EDUC. DEPT.
Manuals of religious Education
for parents and teachers
Edited by Charles Foster Kent
In collaboration with Sidney A. Weston
CHILDHOOD and CHARACTER
An Introduction to the Study of the
Religious Life of Children
By HUGH HARTSHORNE
Assistant Professor of Religious Education in
The Union Theological Seminary
THE PILGRIM PRESS
{Department of Educational Publications)
BOSTON CHICAGO
L5 V / 7 /s
W 3
COPTBIOHT 1919
Bt HUGH HARTSHORNE
SSi
EOUC. DEPT.
THE PILGRIM PRESS
BOSTON
TO
434 17G
Digitized by the Internet Arciiive
in 2007 witii funding from
IVIicrosoft Corporation
http://www.archive.org/details/childlioodcharactOOhartrich
PREFACE
This book is an effort to introduce teachers to the
study of childhood religion at first hand. Its aim is
increase not so much of information as of insight, by
thoughtful observation and control of children. It is
in no sense a substitute for boys and girls as objects of
study, and it ^hould be used as a way of learning rather
than as something to be learned — a guide to the real
facts, which are living children, not books.
For some time there has been a widely felt need for
a book that will unite the study of children with the
study of society. The social point of view in religion, in
psychology, in attitude toward youth, has not so far
given birth to a text for the guidance of teachers. Most
current text-books are too abstract, too general, too
Uttle interested in problems of religious development,
too individualistic in their point of view, or too crowded
with facts of lesser importance. They leave the stu-
dent with an idea of the dissected body and mind of " the
child," but without a notion of children Uving in the
fellowship of a social whole which includes them as well
as adults. Young and old together constitute society.
The youthful ingredient of society in the religious aspect
of its development is the subject of this volume.
The chapters are arranged in the order in which it is
felt it will be most useful to read them. After seeing
the point of view from which the subject is approached,
the reader is introduced at once to the study of children,
in the course of which study the problem of how to
vi PREFACE
observe the religious life of children is discussed. The
latter part of the book deals with factors that enter
into the education of children in religion. A bibUography
and a considerable amount of fresh data are placed in
the appendix.
All who are familiar with recent psychological and
educational literature will readily recognize the author^s
indebtedness to Edward L. Thorndike, to John Dewey,
and especially to George A. Coe. Special thanks are
due the publishers and authors who generously granted
or confirmed permission to print various articles, poems
and quotations, acknowledgment of which is made in
the text.
H. H.
New York,
April 1, 1919.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
PAGE
Preface v
I The Point of Visiw 3
II Babies 7
Foundations of the Religious Life
III Five-Year-Olds 24
Achieving Selfhood
IV Observing the Religious Life of Children 45
The Science of Child Study
V Little Fellows Six to Eight 60
Helping Children Grow in the Religious Life
VI Likenesses and Differences 82
Some Facts and Laws
VII Boys and Girls 97
The Religious Life of Later Childhood
VIII The Transition 118
From Childhood to Youth
IX Our Inherited Equipment 134
The Physical Basis
X Our Inherited Equipment {Continued) 147
Nature's Provision for Social Living
XI Making Over Human Nature 156
Factors in the Educational Process
1. Action
XII Making Over Human Nature (Continued) 167
2. Thinking
3. Worship
vU
viii CONTENTS
CHAPTBB PAOB
XIII Motives 177
The Fourth Factor in the Educational Process
XIV Health 191
The Relation of Health to Character
XV Work and Play 203
Psychological Relations
XVI Work and Play (Continued) 217
The Educational Use of Work, Play and Recreation
XVII Character 229
Discipline for Democracy
APPENDIX
I Things Children Do and Say 241
Part I : Stories by an Eight-Year-Old Girl
Part II : Incidents from Child Life
II Bibliography 268
1. On Problems of Method
2. On Facts of Behavior and Growth
3. Popular Books for General Reading
4. The Moral and Religious Nature of Children
5. Books Containing Data for Study
6. References for the Several Chapters
III Charts 276
A. Form for a Chart of Social Development
B. Coe's Syllabus
C. Form for a Time Schedule
Index ' 279
CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
CHAPTER I
THE POINT OF VIEW
Back of the millions of money and the millions of
men and women devoted to the welfare and nurture
of the young, there hes a deeper interest than the love
of children. This more insistent demand upon our time
and effort is made by the call of the ideal society. To
some, this is the perpetuation of the present social order
through the passing on of all that is deemed best in the
present and the past. To others, the future society
takes more definite form in the picture of a purified
nation, from which personal and poHtical corruption
has been removed. Others see ahead a theocracy in
which every individual shall have his appointed place,
whether as subject to the will of a ruling tradition, or as
custodian and interpreter of this tradition and its sup-
posed benefits. But more and more the minds of
thoughtful people are being captivated by the vision of
the New Democracy, the coming, not the old, social
order, super-national, super-ecclesiastical, whose motive
is love, whose ideal is the brotherhood of man, and
whose destiny is the commonwealth of God.
The child is in our midst in a sense far more signifi-
cant than as an object of curiosity or of concern for his
own future happiness. That his soul must be saved is
only a half truth. To be sure it must, and precious is
every son of man in the eyes of an all-loving God. But
3
AM ;••: ;-idHn:.t)fiO'aD.''AND CHARACTER
saved for what? And saved how? There is something
more important than the child whose soul we are intent
upon saving — more important because without it
there is no sense in which his salvation has any mean-
ing, any more than has his present Ufe. There never
would be any soul to save were it not for the other souls
in the midst of whose ministrations and in the presence of
whose visible acts the " candidate for personahty " is
living and growing. The child does not exist in any
" pure " or unrelated or unattached way as an inde-
pendent individual, but is in his very essence a one of
many. Whatever may be the all-inclusive society, the
ideal society, toward which we move, the individual's
salvation must be related to it, and indeed must consist
in some sort of permanent and all-to-be-desired life
within it. Apart from the social whole, the personal
life has no permanent meaning.
To have made education completely child-centered
was the splendid achievement of the nineteenth century :
" The child's interests must rule, and the child's interest
must determine the form of family and school Ufe; all
adult affairs must give way before the insistent demands
of child-nature; King Child is on the throne and must
be obeyed." That such a view contains fundamental
truth no one will deny. But it is quite as one-sided as
the previous reign of King Grown-up. The twentieth
century has dethroned King Child, and is teaching him
that he must take his proper place as a citizen with in-
creasing rights and duties in the new democracy. De-
mocracy is concerned, not merely with the separate
interests of either children or adults, but with the in-
terests of all persons, young and old, wherever they may
happen to live.
THE POINT OF VIEW 5
As this point of view is fundamental to all our suc-
ceeding work, let us formulate briefly its various factors :
"1. Man has a destiny that is conceived to be some
kind of superior activity. This superior activity is self-
directed and essentially satisfying. Superior activity
can be achieved only by experience in its two-fold as-
pect of activity within the relation to be perfected, and
reflection upon that activity and its purpose.
" 2. Education is the process by which the ideals of
man's destiny become gradually incarnated in the
fabric of society and the characters of its individual
members. Religion defines man's destiny as a social
destiny, or a superior activity which is not only self-
directed and essentially satisfying, but which is also
socially motived. Man's social destiny is to be achieved
only through social experience progressively understood
and directed. Religious education, therefore, is the
process by which the individual, in response to a con-
trolled environment, achieves a progressive, conscious,
social adjustment, dominated by the spirit of brother-
hood, and so directed as to promote the growth of a
social order based on regard for the worth and destiny
of every individual.
"3. The process of reUgious education takes place
as the individual Uves among people, comes into touch
with the highest type of spiritual hfe in the present and
in the past, and responds to this Hfe and this ideal by
developing the habits, attitudes and purposes that serve
to give range and direction to the constructive social
tendencies, and to hold in check or direct or convert
such tendencies as are destructive of the social good.
Identical with the process of reUgious education is the
individual's increasing participation in the worship,
6 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
work and fellowship of the world, and his increasing
contribution to its progress toward the social ideal.
" 4. In order that this development of the individual
may take place, society must provide for every child :
" a. A community dominated by the spirit of brother-
hood, whose individual, cooperative and institutional
activities in worship, work and fellowship he may
imitate and share.
" b. Within this community, definite training for
skill in these activities, and in their intelligent direction
and control through study and discussion.
" 5. The goal of reHgious education for the individual
is thus seen to be the completely sociaUzed will, expressed
in a life which is sharing increasingly in the knowledge
and work of an eternal society, and in the joy ot human
and divine companionship — in a word, world-citizen-
ship.
*' The goal of reHgious education for society is the
reorganization of institutions and enterprises in such a
way as to provide for all individuals the stimulus of the
reHgious heritage of the race, and equal opportunities
for health, education, work, play and worship — in a
word, world-brotherhood.''^
^Religious Education, June, 1917.
CHAPTER II
BABIES
Foundations of the Religious Life
During their first three years, children are laying
foundations of selfhood, of individualized personality.
They are building up an experience with which to fare
forth into the world. They are preparing to proceed
under their own steam and without orders.
The Baby's Mind. It is hard for us to realize the
utter emptiness of the baby's mind. WilUam James
has somewhat ambiguously referred to the child's world
as a big, blooming, buzzing confusion. But confusion-
impHes a contrast with an already organized experi-
ence, and the baby has no such standard of comparison.
Furthermore, we are conscious only of what we react
to, and the baby reacts only to simple and selected
stimuU. His consciousness, so far as it exists, has to
acquire definiteness. He has to learn to give more than
fleeting attention to any one thing. His mind is perhaps
in something the same condition as ours is when we look
at a bright jewel so hard that everything else fades out
of our vision. We see and feel nothing but that jewel.
That is all there is to our consciousness — as though
we were identified with the bright object and it were the
sum and substance of hfe for us. Everything else is
emptiness. Our consciousness has no margin. Now if
we can imagine this narrow field of consciousness to
shift from one sensation to another, each sensation being
8 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
for the moment the sum total of consciousness, we will
approximate what the child's mind must be like. It is
very simple and vague, and probably chiefly a sense of
pleasure or pain, of satisfaction or dissatisfaction.
The repetition of experiences that satisfy and that
annoy gradually builds up a broader mental field.
There are memories and expectations as well as imme-
diate pleasures and pains. Certain events, hke having
a bottle, are associated with certain other events,
such as a feeUng of hunger followed by a feeling of satis-
faction, or with the appearance of the same visual,
tactile and aural stimuli caused by the approach and the
voice of the mother. Certain bonds are being fixed
between definite situations and definite responses, so
that the repetition of the situations sets going the
responses. At first only the whole situation effects the
response, only the mother plus the bottle plus the milk
plus the feeling of the strong arms and the sound of the
comforting voice. But gradually the response of feed-
ing is made or attempted to one or another part of this
total situation. The appearance of the mother may start
going the sucking motion of jaw and Hps and the wriggle
of arms and legs that show an expectation of being picked
up. If no bottle comes with the mother and the baby is
hungry, there is annoyance, and the baby cries, unless
other satisfactions crowd out the disappointment.
The Basis of Morality. Such simple bonds are
being made in considerable numbers as the result of what
grown persons do. The more regular the treatment
by grown persons, the more quickly will the baby get
meaning out of his experiences, and learn the signals or
part-situations that indicate what is going to happen.
If the display of the bonnet and the cheerful " we're
BABIES 9
going out now," is always followed by a ride, it will
always mean a ride. If it is sometimes followed by a
ride and sometimes not, it will not be understood, and
baby will be confused and helpless or unresponsive.
The same is true of all the other signals we give. They
must be uniform to be intelligible and effective. If
baby has learned from experience what the objectiona-
ble, but common, " mamma spank " means, and then
the phrase is used as an unfulfilled threat, it will lose
force as a means of control. Or if punishment follows
some misdeed one day but not the next, or if the same
punishment follows a wilful disobedience or harmful
act as is attached to some harmless prank, the child has
no basis for forming any independent moral standards.
His world is arbitrary and erratic: he will be arbitrary
and erratic. With no definite and recurring associations
between conduct and standards of conduct, his action
will be determined not by standards nor by habits,
but by caprice or the effort to escape punishment.
A moral bei ng can be produced only by a moral
environment.
We all understand how our interpretation of new
experiences is based upon our old experiences, how the
old comes forth to meet and absorb the new. We see
all things through the colored glasses of our experience.
Each step depends on what precedes, and each step
influences all that follows. The further back we go, the
more important, therefore, is our experience. If our
first experiences are with a harsh, unsympathetic, auto-
cratic and irregular social environment, we grow up
with this sort of an experience as our only means of
interpreting the world, and our whole life is warped and
twisted because of it. It is exceedingly important,
10 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
therefore, that every effort be made, from the earliest
beginning of consciousness, to provide a sane, loving,
iust treatment, unvarying in its rules and promises and
routine.
The Basis of Self-Control. Such regularity of
treatment not only provides the foundation in experi-
ence for the growth of ideas of order and justice, but
also establishes the definite habits that constitute the
basis of self-control. Before the age of four or five such
self-control is, of course, rather mechanical. All it
means is that this little bit of humanity will perform
certain acts not only at the moment when his mother is
present to require it of him, but also when she is not
present. If in his creeping voyages of discovery he
has, by proper training, acquired the habit of not touch-
ing certain books on low shelves, he will refrain from
touching them without physical restraint. If he has
not acquired any such habit, he will have to be constantly
controlled from outside and will lack the kind of experi-
ence which can be developed as time goes on into con-
scious choice of acts; for, as Royce says, one cannot
.choose effectively to do what one has not already done.
In building up a world of order, where things happen
in ways which can be anticipated, the child is laying the
foundation of the sense of justice and of moral law that
will come as he grows older. And in acquiring habits of
regular and correct response to the regularly recurring
situations of his limited world, he is laying the founda-
tions of the self-control which his growing consciousness
of self will one day recognize as his own.
The Common Consciousness. Consciousness is a
social product. What the baby is aware of is determined
by what the mother and nurse and father and older
BABIES 11
brother and sister decide upon. He is fed and bathed
and played with by persons who are themselves con-
scious of certain things. I]^_Jbaby^ consciousness is a
reflection of theirs. His instinctive tendencies find
expression in the channels which their minds have al-
ready laid out. Everything he touches is a human
product or is interpreted by the uses to which human
inteUigence has put it. His daily regimen on the basis of
which he is gaining a sense of order and of goodness is
planned by others. Whatever mind he has is so built up,
therefore, as to fit in with other minds. His mind is
other minds. Their consciousness is his, and he has no
other.
But it is not only in his notions about the world of
things that he is reflecting the minds of others. He also
picks up their attitudes and moods. Just what the
mechanism of his emotional sympathy is is uncertain.
It may be that the subtle facial expressions associated
with elemental emotions such as fear are instinctively
responded to by the baby in such a way as to arouse the
same mood in him. At least he will frequently show
signs of similar emotion even though the object which
stirred the emotion in his elders is absent or entirely
incapable of affecting him. At all events, Jbhie color
of the family consciousness is in some way responded to
by the children, and they either absorb it or react against
it. They are happy when the rest are happy, sad when
they are sad, nervous when they are nervous, calm when
they are calm, cross when they are cross. They are at
one with the rest. Their consciousness is a common
consciousness.
Professor Kirkpatrick* gives several instances of be-
1 Tht Individual in the Making, pp. 70, 80.
12 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
havior which illustrate this reflection of the feehngs of
others :
" Girl of fifteen months. Nearly always smiles, even if crying,
when anyone smiles at her."
" Girl of twenty-two months says * cry ' in a pathetic tone when
looking at a picture of some one crying. She did this once when
only the attitude indicated grief."
" Girl of two years. She heard some one say in an expressive
tone, ' I was scared when I saw how much oatmeal there was.'
She dropped her spoon and seemed afraid of the oatmeal she was
about to eat until reassured regarding it."
" Boy three years. His mother was uneasy, not knowing where
his sister was, but said nothing about it and tried not to show it.
Soon he said he wished he could see his sister, and finally, ' I am
not happy, Mamma,' evidently having caught the feeUng from his
mother."
Premonitions of Selfhood. The process by which
this common consciousness is broken up into parts
corresponding to individuals is gradual. At first even
the body is not distinguished from other objects. By
getting a double sensation when touching one part of
the body with another, as when the hand hits the toes,
a difference is distinguished which in time becomes
standardized. It seems necessary, however, to have all
sorts of sensations on every part of the body before the
distinction between the body and other objects is com-
plete, if it ever is complete. A child was observed to
bump her head against her bed. Feeling her head in a
puzzled way, she went up to the bed and bumped her
head purposely. Another child of three bit her fingers
till one bled to see if the fingers were a part of herself.^
Then comes the time when, sometimes seriously, some-
times in play, the children look upon all objects as just
1 Kirkpatrick, E. A., op. cit., p. 82.
BABIES 13
like themselves. Trees, animals, persons, dolls, all are
treated alike, with the expectation that they can under-
stand the usual signals by which wants are made known,
and will do as they are told. This, however, may be
largely, if not wholly, the result of the way others talk
to children about inanimate objects and animals, as
having thoughts and feelings, and as being able to talk.
But the gradual growth of an independent train of
memories, tied up with the individual tendencies to
behavior that more and more emerge in consciousness
as, " baby wants this," or " baby wants that," begins
to reveal to the child that consciousness is not general
but individual. Naturally he does not use these words.
He just is conscious, now and then, of a difference.
He has desires that do not all meet with approval.
His activities are broken into by others. He is aware
that people laugh at some kinds of acts and frown at
other kinds. He discovers that among the signals he
is learning to use there is one that refers to himself, and
others that refer to other persons. This difference,
between baby and mother, say, is at first the same as
between kitty and mother. But around the idea of
baby there come to be associated these thwarted desires,
these approvals and disapprovals, so that these experi-
ences become " baby's " experiences.
The next step, or better, the next stage, for it comes
rather as the tide comes, in waves that roll farther and
farther up the shore — the next stage is the " I " stage,
where the thinker becomes aware that the thinker's and
the " baby's " experiences are the same thing, set over
against other thinkers or " I's " who do not have the
same experiences. This separation is never complete
in any of us. In mob action, to which we all are sus-
14 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
V ceptible, this distinction between self and others is broken
down, and the individual is " lost " in the crowd much
as he was when a baby. All of us are more or less
" suggestible." That is, all of us respond, without any-
inhibiting thoughts of our own, to many ideas and
situations presented by others. We eat what is set
before us. We dress as fashion dictates. We are
colloquial in ideas and words and behavior. Out of
this mass of suggested and uncriticized behavior the
child slowly emerges to a certain level which he maintains
till adolescence brings its new experiences to send the
consciousness of self shooting still higher.
These emergings of the consciousness of self begin^to^
appear with the use of language. There is a good deal
of the experimental about them, as though the child were
playing with a new toy to see what it would do. With
each new success in independent action, he gains more
confidence, till one day he will deliberately " disobey,"
just to see what will happen.
If this separation of the self from the common con-
sciousness takes place too rapidly, before there is suf-
ficient experience to give it body and substance, there is
danger that the child will become morbidly self-conscious
— a person set apart, lacking in sympathy and unre-
sponsive to the group Hfe. When punishment, which
usually disrupts the common consciousness, is not
accompanied by some means of restoring the child to the
common hfe, it is a deadly weapon, especially later in
childhood. Continuous disapproval unrelieved by a
sharing of interests with a child is almost certain to make
the child either " self-willed " or " sullen " or openly
obedient while inwardly rebellious. Too much atten-
. tion leads to similar results. Display before strangers.
BABIES 15
doing tricks to make friends laugh, being the center of
interest constantly for any cause at all, carries in its
train a host of problems in the achievement of a normal
personality that ought never to arise. Far better is
it for the child to come into the possession of himself
through the normal processes of social Uving, in which
adjustments to the group life are gradually made, and in
which he is able to discover himself not as the cynosure
of admiring eyes but as a member of a cooperating house-
hold working together for some recognized common
interests.
As the child lays the foundation for self-control and
a sense of an ordered universe through his regimen of
daily hving and consistent treatment, so does he lay the
foundation for social-mindedness in the attitudes that
he picks up from his associates and in the kind of a self
that they encourage in him.
Laying the Foundations op Religion
1. The Sense of Justice and Order. The child's
capacity for rehgion does not begin at any one moment.
It comes gradually, just as his consciousness of selfhood
comes gradually. The child can be rehgious just as
soon as he can be a person and maintain a self-directed
relation to other persons. But the nature of this child-
hood rehgion, which comes into its own between the
ages of four and six, depends on what has happened to the
individual during the preceding years. His religious de-
velopment may be greatly facilitated or greatly hindered
according as its foundations are wisely or unwisely laid.
The necessity of providing an ordered experience as
the basis of a sense of justice has already been suggested*
Children's minds work logically. Not distorted by
16 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
prejudices, they go directly to a conclusion from the
facts offered. A boy three years and eight months old
prayed that God would make all the days Sundays so
that papa would be home all the time. He had thought
that all out by himself. This is an example of how babies
put two and two together in ways that often startle us.
The results are of course often absurd from our point of
view, just as the ideas of savages seem absurd. But with
the same data, the same vague ideas to work with, we
would do about as well. Listen to people talking about
something about which they know little or nothing, but
about which you know a great deal! Women are amused
at men's comments on dressmaking, and men heretofore
have been amused at women's struggles to make sense
out of a political platform, which, again, seems to the
economist so stupid a document. It is not the com-
ments of the imbecile that amuse us, but the comments
of the intelUgent upon an unfamiliar subject. So the
children amuse us by their efforts to build a world out
of nothing.
Some sort of a world they are going to build, and it
will be a reasonable world, a world governed by law.
The law may be, '' Insist on having your own way and
you'll get it," or, " Wheedling pays," or, " Do unto
others as they do unto you," or, *' Crying hurries the
bottle." Or it may be, " There's no use fussing," or,
" To put away toys is part of the game," or, " Trying
always pleases," or, " Penalties never fail," or, " Mother
knows best," or, " Love rules." It is hard to put into
words the rudimentary ideas of babies. Yet they seem
to understand far more than they can themselves formu-
late, and can get meanings long before they can communi-
cate meanings in words. From the day they are born
BABIES 17
their training begins, and the impressions are being
made which will gradually broaden out into a knowledge
of the world. If love never fails — or, faiUng, acknowl-"
edges its failure — if the grown-up world gives evidence
of being controlled by a beneficent purpose and not by
selfishness, if "to be good " is associated with the
maintenance of the common consciousness rather than
with the whims and fancies of petulant parents; in
other words, if the child is born into and lives in a Chris-
tian family, there is some chance of his waking up some
day to find himself a Christian. God can mean vastly
more to a child who has experienced justice and love
than he can to a child to whom justice and love are.
foreign. To such an unfortunate, God, if the name
be used at all, will be a word to conjure with, or a reckless
and terrible Being to fear. There will be no possibility
of aspiration toward the good, nor of the organization^
of the tender character in terms of an ideal person, unless
there is some just, permanent and loving Standard in
the child's experience to which he can refer, and upon,
whose approval he can count. And as yet, his standard
is a person, not a formula. His associates, therefore,
need more carefully to adopt something of the inflexi-
biUty, the decisiveness and uncompromising clearness of
a definitely stated standard. Granted such an ideal
environment, the child can easily aspire toward something
bigger and better than himself and can conserve his
achievements by his sense of parental approval. And
this effort is, for the baby, religion.
2. Foundations in Habits. Religion is more than
aspiration and more than a philosophy of life. It is
life itself improving itself. It is mind at work upon
the problem of being a person, of moving toward the
18 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
achievement of the personal ideal. Spiritual progress is
not made apart from the hard facts of every-day physical
living. A good man is not one who spins beautiful
ideals the while he curses his neighbor for disturbing
him in the process. Character is physiological. It is
an equipment as well as a purpose. It implies that a
person can do what he would do.
This moral machinery of living the child, too, must
begin to build, if he is to acquire character. The babies
in the cradles are, as a matter of fact, beginning to build
this machinery from the moment they make any re-
sponse at all to human beings, which is right soon. The
foundations of long standing habits are being laid from
the very beginning. If these foundations are weak and
shaky in view of the building that is to be built on them,
there will be a general disaster later in the form of a
weak and shaky individual.
The secret of our modern success in bringing up babies
lies just in this definite training in habits that will count
for future living — habits of eating, sleeping, playing,
waiting, and so on, that enable the child to take his
place in the family life rather than make the family
life take its place in the baby's daily schedule. Such
harmonious functioning as will promote general good
feeling is a distinct contribution to the kind of atmos-
phere that favors the growth of Christian sweetness of
temper. Regularity in daily living becomes conscious,
and consciously desired, only if it is already experienced
and found desirable. And if this regularity is a part of a
family regimen, the emergence of it in consciousness will
carry with it the recognition of the family regimen and the
desirability of choosing to work with the family rather
than against it.
BABIES ^ 19
Those who have seen babies growing up with the ex-
pectation of " having their own way " irrespective of the
effect of their own way on others reahze how frequent
are the disruptions of harmony, and how irregular the
happiness of all concerned. License breeds Hcense, and
the process of overcoming the essentially self-centered
point of view that is the outgrowth of such a scheme of
life is exceedingly painful. A child brought up as one'~
member of a cooperating group into whose life he is
made to fit until the desire to cooperate is born of the
satisfactions such cooperation brings has no such diffi-
culty in adjusting himself to the common life. He has^
acquired the habits on the basis of which his ideals and
purposes, as fast as he becomes conscious of them, can
be built into the structure of character.
3. Foundations in Attitudes. No less important
for rehgion are the attitudes that are generated in the
child's mind during these early months of first experi-
ences. The deHberate cultivation of habitual attitudes
that characterize the Christian religion is entirely pos-
sible if we apply the laws of learning to the process. >
Attitudes are the antecedents of ideas and purposes. -
They are our virgin responses to all that affects us. It
is the attitudes of our friends that most interest us, not
the words they use in expressing them. They can be
expressed without words in the universal language of
facial expressions and gestures. The expression, to be
sure, can be imitated and assumed, but not the attitude.
We need assurance of the way our friends feel toward us,
not of the way they think of us. Love covereth a
multitude of sins. The open-hearted acceptance of
friends is the basis of all higher social intercourse.
These attitudes toward persons and toward behavior
20 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
begin to be formed very early. The flavor of family
life is reflected in the faces of the little tots before they
can talk. The disposition of good-will or the disposition
of cantankerousness is easily cultivated by the way the
baby is treated by mother or nurse, and by the way
mother and nurse and father and brother and sister
treat one another in the baby's presence. The preva-
-lence of unchristian attitudes in the family relation-
ships is almost certain to promote the same attitudes
and the same customary emotions in the heart of the
.baby. If their opposites can be made the law of the
family, the baby will gain a tremendous start along
the road of friendship and love that one day will lead
into the City of God.
Mrs. Mumford ^ calls attention to the effect upon
children of the prayer attitude of parents. The regular
recurrence of the evening quiet time on going to bed
begins to make its impression upon the baby before it
can understand the words that are said. With the
evening hour there comes to be associated the voice
tones, the softened manner, the family hush and slowing
down that are essential for the sober reflection of wor-
ship. This should not be a sad hour, but rather one of
renewed fellowship, in which the less boisterous, yet
not unplayful activities, such as story-telUng, singing
and reminiscing, are the expected and enjoyable events.
The mood that accompanies a true prayer by the mother
at the child's bedside will find expression in the mother's
subdued voice and in the subtle facial expressions to
which children are so sensitive. And so the habit
of the reverential attitude necessary to worship will
be established as the accustomed attitude of bedtime,
» The Dawn of Religion in the Mind of the Child.
BABIES 21
making the practise of evening prayer, as the child grows
old enough to pray by himself, a natural and easy thing.
What a relief in contrast with the all-too-frequent bed-
time complaints and outbursts of temper on the part
of both parents and children!
The morning, too, has its appropriate mood of joyous
anticipation of the day's experiences. If this is real to
the parents, it cannot help affecting the children — and,
unfortunately, the reverse is equally true. Many a good
hour is saved for work and play by the habit of alertness
in the morning. The prayer of morning is a prayer of
outreaching faith, and carries with it an exuberant and
overflowing eagerness that colors the whole day's work.
There is no room in such a mood for dawdling and fretting
over dressing, which, to say the least, is distressing to
everybody, and therefore an unsocial way of behaving.
The early establishment of the opposite attitude as the
morning attitude will go a long way toward preventing
the growth of the characteristic dilatoriness of childhood,
and will make it easier to invest the difficult art of dress-
ing and bodily care with a much needed interest.
4. Foundations in Common Consciousness. Ref-
erences have already been made to the maintenance of
the common consciousness natural to childhood, out of
which the individual consciousness emerges, and with
which it is contrasted. The feeling of oneness with the
group is one which comes after the individual has begun
to become conscious of his selfhood. The appreciation
of union is therefore simply an accompaniment of the
appreciation of selfhood. They are two sides of a shield,
and neither is possible without the other.
Both may be distorted, however. The child's con-
sciousness of self may be the outgrowth of an unsocial
22 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
experience, in which case he will be himself unsocial.
His sense of self will be developed in opposition to others
rather than in cooperation with others, and he will
become a misanthrope or recluse. His independence
will be bravado and seK-glorification, or self-seeking,
rather than deUberate seK-effacement in the larger
interests of the group life.
As is his consciousness of persons so will be his con-
sciousness of God. God, the great Father, should at
first be absorbed as part of the mental furniture which
he unquestioningly takes for granted. God should be
a part of the common consciousness, a member of the
group. And when the transition to personal conscious-
ness takes place, God should be individuaHzed as well
as father and mother, and in the same general way.
That is, there should grow up a rapport, a consciousness
of two selves who are yet in harmony with one another,
because they choose to be. As such common conscious-
ness among individuals is maintained by common action,
so it is with God. Doing as God does or as God wishes
keeps up the feeling of union. Doing as God does not
wish breaks the feeling of harmony and makes necessary
a readjustment. If God is associated with all that is
best, with all the childish aspirations and moral successes,
there will be built up the foundations of a vital rehgious
fellowship which can readily grow in meaning as the
child's world grows. A universe that is at bottom-
personal rather than capricious is a universe which even
a child can feel at home in ; and it is such an interpreta-
tion of the meaning of life, I take it, which Jesus
believed in and associated with the calm confidence of
childhood in the goodness of everything.
BABIES 23
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
Locate several children under five years of age, and, if possible-
ranging all the way from a few weeks old, and make plans to observe
these children occasionally when they are awake. Children passing
by in their go-carts or playing in the parks or streets are just as real
and just as interesting as when they are at home.
1. What do these babies seem to be interested in? What do they
do? Don't say they " play." Say exactly what they do with arms
and legs and voice.
2. What do they take pleasure in? What causes them annoyance?
3. Describe instances of apparent self-control or self-direction,
recording the exact age, and the circumstances. Compare Case 1,
App. I, page 254.
4. Describe the social enviroimient of the children you are observ-
ing, from the point of view of the children. With whom do they
come into contact? What do these persons do? How are the child's
satisfactions and desires dependent on them?
5. Read the cases of children under four in App. I, pp. 254—257.
The following books will be found to be of especial service:
Mrs. E. E. R. Mumford, The Dawn of Religign in the Mind oj the
Child.
H. "i*^. Cope, Religious Education in the Family.
CHAPTER III
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS
Achieving Selfhood
Cooperation and the Discovery of Self. What the
babies learn in the way of religious behavior they learn
from their elders chiefly : by their efforts to put two and
two together, making up their own little worlds of
thought out of the fragments thrown to them from the
great unknown world of grown-ups; by their attempts
to please father and mother, and do what wins their
approval; by their gradual discovery of the possibility
of getting what they want by making use of people;
and, finally, if they have been wisely trained, by their
additional discovery that there are other desires besides
theirs that are seeking satisfaction and that they are
happiest when deferring to the desire of the home group
as it finds expression in the family regime or in parental
control.
By the time a child goes to the Beginners^ Class, he
should be trying to make his adjustments to the group
hfe. He should have at least occasional lapses into a
cooperative frame of mind. By the time he has en-'
tered the second year of the Beginners^ work, that is,
when he has passed his fifth birthday and is in his sixth
year, he should be habitually cooperative. Otherwise,
his presence with the other five-year-olds is a disturbing
factor and destroys the unity of the class. Ordinarily,
then, the four- and five-year-olds should not be in the
24
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 25
same class in church school, and the criterion of advance-
ment should be primarily the actual abiUty to take an
intelligent part in the activities of the older children.
The training we can give to the four-year-old is more
of the type that he gets at home. It is a continuation
of the older person's effort to help the youngster find
himself and to find other folks. He is hovering on the
threshold of true self-consciousness, ' and we must pa-
tiently wait for him to enter, of his own accord, the
larger world of real persons, before we confront him with
the more serious problems of conscious social adjustment.
The Enlargement of Experience. Coincident with
this stretching of the child's social imagination is his
entrance into a larger world. Home has been his sphere,
or rather his home base, from which he took his frequent
departure on long excursions into the childish world of
fancy. But now come school, new playmates of his
own age, teacher, the sight of older children at play.
The world is not just father and mother and brother and
sister and cousins. It is these plus, oh, so many, many
children. Try to recall the first time you were in a great
crowd such as gathers in a college stadium or a circus.
How vivid were the people and how keen was your
consciousness of the presence of humanity in the large.
And so the child feels, when for the first time he walks
into the kindergarten room with its twenty or thirty
children, or sees the older children marching through the
halls in never-ending lines to their various classrooms.
No wonder the youngsters are at first dismayed. They
didn't know there were so many people in all the world.
At once upon entrance into this bigger world of
children, the child's former world of toys and dolls and
blocks and whistles and convenient father and mother
CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
takes on new meaning. These articles of the soli-
tary play of imagination become spiritually marketable.
They become the materials of social cooperation. They
are also the interests of others and therefore the basis
of a common interest through which the dehghts and the
difficulties of social Hving arise.
The Clash of Imaginary Worlds and the Discovery
of the Real World. The delights and difficulties are
both real and both essential to proper development.
Were it not a pleasure to play with others, the little
conflicts of thought and feeling which spur the children
to clarify their thinking would not occur. They would
continue to play alone. And when the imaginary world
of one is little by Httle brought into touch with the
imaginary world of the others, the fancy-free way of
thinking receives a check, and the children are all forced
back upon their common experience with a common
world of things and ' people as the final arbiter of truth
and reality.
The Cosmopolitan. The child's world is further
enlarged by his seeing what 6ther children do. Each
one of these kindergarten children has been brought
up in a home whose life he has been exclusively sharing
and whose way of doing things he has been imitating.
Now these different children, from different homes, and
representing the characteristics of the different homes,
all come together, and therefore bring into one room all
their various interests and activities. Instead of having
simply their own home life to imitate, the children
now can imitate a great variety of behavior. Johnnie
plays with his blocks in a most fascinating way, and
Edward must do it just as Johnnie does. Likewise
Edward's particular strut and puff as he pulls his train
. FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 27
of cars is an accomplishment that stirs Johnnie's ambi-
tion. And so the different ways of doing things which
the different children bring with them are pooled in a
common stock of experience and the whilom provincial
member of the Tenny family becomes a cosmopoUtan,
brushing up against the Olsons and Smiths, the Mac-
Dougals and Murphys, the Hahns, and Trabues, and so
minghng not only the family traits but also the national
habits that appear in the plays and games of the off-
spring.
Individual Interests and Their Submergence in
the Group-Life. But the pleasure in doing what the
other girl or the other boy does is not the only enjoy-
ment of the five-year-old. He also wants to l^ave his
own way and to display his own talents. That is why
he has something to be imitated. He does it his way
first and shows the rest how. He wants his chance. His
story must get a hearing. This is a wholesome thing,
provided it does not mean simply the display of conceit.
What we desire is that each child shall make his contribu-
tion to the group life, and that his contribution shall be
his own.
The transition from display to cooperation is well
illustrated by the responses of the different children to
the teacher's request for illustrations of the subject of
the story. One child gives an apt illustration from his
own experience. Another cannot think of any, and so,
apparently in a cooperative spirit, begins to tell a story
of her own that has no particular relation to the subject
under discussion. A third is insistent on reciting a
poem entirely irrelevant to the theme in hand and with
the obvious desire to show off. How to help the second
child to make her contribution intelUgent, and how to
28 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
secure the cooperation of the third, are real problems in
kindergarten teaching.
Natural Tendencies and Characteristics. The
'' animal " life of the immature human has analogies
with the immature life of other species. There is the
same delight in multiform activity. The essential wrig-^
gle of the confined child is not a sign of degeneracy but
of health. It is normal for a child of five to be active
with his whole body. The finer control of energy, by
which the larger muscles are allowed to rest while a small
group of closely coordinated muscles — hand and eye —
are kept in continuous operation, has not been attained.
To draw a picture, therefore, requires the motion or
tension of legs and trunk and mouth and tongue as well
as of arm and hand and eye.
But not only is action imperative; it is also impulsive.
There are few pauses for reflection upon consequences.
One act leads directly to another with little intervening
thought. This does not mean the absence of imagery.
It means that the mental life is like the observed physi-
cal activity — a series of rather disconnected and play-
ful images accompanying a series of rather disconnected
and playful acts. As activity is playing with things, so
thought is playing with images of play. It is not so
much the object or scene that is imaged as the action.
The story of the Little Blind Girl ^ was once told to
a group of children including some six years old. The
climax of the story, from the adult point of view, is
where, for the first time, the child sees her mother's face.
Yet not one of the younger children afterwards expressed
any interest in this dramatic ending. It is not the
mother's face but her action that interests most children.
^ Lane, First Book of Religion.
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 29
The famous Ketchup Story ^ well illustrates this
playing with images:
Once there was a man who ate ketchup. He ate ketchup on his
bread and on his meat and on everything. He ate too much ketchup.
His friends all said, " If you eat so much ketchup, you will be sick."
But he kept right on eating ketchup.
And then, one day, his arm fell o£f. But he kept right on eating
ketchup. He ate ketchup on bread and on meat and on every-
thing. He ate too much ketchup. And his friends all said, " If
you eat so much ketchup, you will be sick." But he kept right on
eating ketchup.
And then, one day, his leg fell off. But he kept right on eating
ketchup. He ate it on bread and on meat and on everything. He
ate too much ketchup. And his friends all said, " If you eat so
much ketchup, you will be sick." But he kept right on eating
ketchup.
And then, one day, his head fell off. And then he was scared.
And he ran straight to the doctor. And the doctor looked him in
the eye and said, " Young man, if you don't stop eating ketchup,
something's going to happen to you ! "
The Interest in Activities and Purposes. Kirk-
patrick^ quotes the definitions which a four-year-old
child gave of common objects:
Ankle — means to walk with.
Apple — means to eat — just to eat.
Baby — it means babies that creep just like this.
Ball — it means balls for playing tennis or anything.
Book — A book you read. You're reading a book.
Boy — Oh, boys — They're boys that walk of course. The boys
go in the house and play and walk around.
Chair — A chair means to sit in.
Girl — Why, girl means to go to school.
Hat — To wear on your head.
Papa — To take care of you.
1 The author does not know the source of this story and tells it from a single
hearing of some years' standing. If it does violence to the original, he begs pardon.
* Kirkpatrick, The Indiv \dual in the Making, p. 163.
30 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
More and more the imagination of children is taking
in the future as well as the present. There is a growing
sense of continuity and custom, and a growing interest
in standardizing modes of behavior. The function of
objects, more than their appearance, arouses their
curiosity. This is a matter of no small importance to
reUgious education. It offers a problem as well as an
opportunity, however, for once the function of an ob^ct
or mode of behavior is grasped, any change or enlarge-
ment of the idea of what the object or act is for is
difficult. The vividness of imagery apparently rejects
changes automatically. Any stimulus, such as a story,
which has once set going a set of images, must be told
again in exactly the same way. The change of a word
is resented, for it probably interferes with the imagery
already fixed.
Similarly, if a particular act has ever secured a pleas-
ing result, the act will be carefully repeated when the
same result is again desired, although there may be no
logical connection between them. And if the expected
result does not occur, violence is done to the child's
notion of a stable world.
A small boy was asked one day to say grace at table.
It happened that his uncle, of whom he was very fond,
was sick. So he said for grace, '' God bless Uncle George
and make him well." That was a quite satisfactory
way to meet this situation of having to say grace. And
so, thereafter for some time, long after Uncle George
was quite well, the boy's grace at table was, ^' God bless
Uncle George and make him well."
The advantage that the interest in activity and in
standard activity or fixed forms gives us is of several '
kinds. In the first place, it is relatively easy to form -
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 31
habits of conduct. Behavior, as such, is prominent in
the child^s mind, and correct behavior, that is, customary
behavior, is all-important. The child wants to do the
right thing and insists that others shall also. How many
youngsters are shocked by the table manners of their
fathers! But only when they have been taught some
other way of holding fork or spoon. It is exceedingly
important that the habits which are formed are correct, \
therefore, not only in the child's eyes, but in the eyes \
of the " best people.*' The standards of behavior for I-
the child must be Christian standards from the very /
beginning.
In the second place, the interest in activity is, in^
germ, an interest in purposes. To be sure, the five-year-
old does not form very extensive purposes. But he wants
to know what things are for^ what their behavior is,^
what they are used for by people. And he wants to
know why he has to do some things and not others. -"
Here is one opportunity to help the child make the
beginning of a religious interpretation of his life and of
the world. He is systematizing his thinking already.
What kinds of purposes is he himself forming, and what
kinds of purposes does he find others forming? From
the Christian point of view, what are things for, and what
is the reason for our behavior?
The Parental Instinct. Besides the original ten-
dency to activity of various kinds with its mental asso-
ciates which we have been describing, there are other
instinctive tendencies that provide fairly definite forms
of behavior. The most significant just now is the pa-
rental instinct, with its nursing activities. The child
fondles and pets everything, including father and mother.
This is largely automatic, and the mental reflections of
32 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
this sort of activity gain definiteness only with an ex-
tended experience of the results of this indiscriminate
mothering.
^ It is quite important, therefore, for the proper develop-
ment of Christian habits of conduct and thought, that
the parental instinct be given direction. The tender-
ness of feeling that apparently accompanies mothering
activity must not be allowed to become sentimental
or mushy. The desire to help must be made intelligent
in its operation. The children must be taught to find
satisfaction in activities that really help. That is, the
relatively automatic acts of superficial helpfulness must
gradually become purposeful. Delightful as is the spon-
taneous and impulsive caress, we must not confuse
it with true thoughtfulness, which has a conscious aim,
namely, the interest of the other person. By emphasis
on thoughtfulness for others, by encouraging the gener-
ous impulse to work its way through a consideration of
various possible generous acts to the selection of the
act that best meets the other person's interest, we can
gradually transform the blind impulse into a controlling
purpose, which is Christian in its essence.
A certain wise teacher of Beginners is accustomed
to ask each pupil why he brings a penny with him.
This is a puzzler for most children. If they have any
idea at all, beyond the fact that mother said it was the
proper thing to do, it is usually a general notion
of miscellaneous and undirected helpfulness. But the
pennies accumulate, and the question arises as to what
to do with them. The teacher is not contented with im-
pulsive answers, such as '^ give them to the poor chil-
dren." She desires an intelligent grappling with the
problem of giving. So as various definite objects of
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 33
expenditure are suggested, she encourages an estimate
of need, and tries to secure a judgment as to the relative
needs of the different objects, and a real endeavor to
find out how the money will cause the most happiness
or do the most good. The blind generosity of the chil-
dren is being transformed gradually into a wise Chris-
tian purpose. One of the objects which is of particularly
vital interest to this class of Beginners is the purchasing
of milk for some babies in a near-by day nursery. The
children understand the babies' need of milk and can
be shown how important it is that they have good milk.
Their parental tendency to care for these Uttle ones finds
a wise as well as a satisfying outlet in spending their
savings in this way.
Children's Fears. A great deal has been said about
children's fears, and of their place in '' primitive " child-
hood reUgion. Undoubtedly fear was a component of
primitive man's religious experience. But we are no
longer primitive, and the things that made him afraid
are not the bug-a-boos of civilized man. One achieve-
ment of the Christian religion has been to eUminate
fear from the heart of man. Why should the child be
dragged through the experiences of the savage, when,
as we know, the child's native tendencies to confidence
and love are precisely the central attitudes of Chris-
tianity?
That children have fears is true, though frequently
these can be traced to the vicious stories of nurse-maids,
or even to foolish mothers, who try to scare their chil-
dren into good behavior. Better were it that a millstone
were hung about their necks and that they were cast into
the midst of the sea. A child once possessed by fear is
in some degree always abnormal. The very structure of
34 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
his brain builds itself around the acts and fancies that
grow out of a dominating terror, and forever after those
connections or habits of act and thought survive to
destroy his peace and efficiency of mind.
- Our work as teachers of religion is to prevent any such
fears arising and to disperse them as rapidly as possible
by corrective teaching if they have already taken pos-
session of the child. That religious (Christian) teaching
is a powerful antidote to such conditions is well estab-
lished.
A pleasing result of teaching a child about the Father^s
care is seen in the following quotation from a mother's
account of her efforts to train her daughter in the use of
prayer: " She is a very timid child and has been afraid
of imaginary things after she was in bed. This fall I
have taught her to ask the Father to take care of her.
She has done so and the fear has practically vanished. *'
(Age, six years.)
The Desire for Approval. One other strong ten-
dency of childhood remains for our attention. It is the
great satisfaction children of this age take in the approval
of their superiors — parents, teachers, and older chil-
dren — and the pain caused by the disapproval of these
same associates. Here is a powerful weapon for good
or ill. Out of it grows that desire for the approval of
one's own best self, for the approval of the best selves in
others, for the approval of God as he makes his will
known through conscience and the demands of the ideal
society. It is a dangerous weapon, however, for it may
lead to the desire for popular approval, for the acclaim
of the crowd, or for the insidious flattery of those whom
we contemn. It may rest satisfied with what the lower
self dictates, or it may be constantly vacillating between
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 35
one master and another, seeking now one approbation
and now another. A unified source of approval is
essential for a unified personality, and this should be,
of course, what we mean by the approval of God. Some
such unifying will as is formulated in the idea of God, and
some such unifying experience as is typified in the experi-
ence of fellowship with an over-will, are essential for
the achievement of that unity of soul which it is the func-
tion of rehgion to secure.
The Experience of God. The beginnings of the
God-consciousness as they are taught by parents have
already been discussed. The children in the Beginners'
Department are not strictly beginners. They began
their reHgious life before they came to the church school,
and they bring with them also some idea of God. What
should be the normal idea of God by the time the child
is ready to enter the first grade? What sort of an ex-
perience of God will promote this rehgious development?
For we must not suppose that all ideas of God or God-
experiences are helpful. Some may actually be irrelig-
ious, as this instance suggests:
" A little girl of five years, during that period of the child's life
when it exhibits more or less the tendency to run away from home,
became quite a runaway and visitor to other homes in the com-
munity, going at any hour of the day.
" This habit came to be a matter of great anxiety to her parents
and a nuisance to neighbors and friends. The parents tried various
methods to overcome the habit. They admonished her but it did
no good. Then they tried keeping her indoors but this did not
avail for, after her periods of confinement to the house, sooner or
later she would be off from home. As a last resort, her father in-
structed the people in the community to ask Mary, his daughter,
if she had the consent of her parents to go out a-visiting. If she
replied that she had not, she should be refused admission and sent
home.
36 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
" Shortly after the above arrangements had been made by my
friend with his neighbors, Miss Mary set out to go a-caUing on
a Mrs. J . When Mrs. J , on answering the raps at her door,
found that it was Mary she immediately inquired if she had gotten
her father's permission to come. On receiving the negative answer,
Mrs. J asked if she had then obtained her mother's consent.
Upon learning that this consent neither had been obtained, she
asked her Uttle caller as to what she was doing there when she
hadn't obtained permission from father or mother. ' Oh,' repUed
Mary, ' I do have permission. I asked God before I came and he
said I could.'
" The child had been taught by the father to be reUgious, that
is, in so far as he felt the child mind could grasp it, and particu-
larly did he point her to God as the one whom we should all love and
obey; and if we did, he would be our helper, and to him we could take
all our troubles and difficulties and he would help us through them.
" She couldn't resist that strong tendency to run off, but as she
must not go now without permission, she determined to go out on
the campus in a comer and talk to God about getting the privilege
to go a-visiting to Mrs. J . She claimed that she did explain
it all and seemingly to her childish mind came the right, the privilege,
to go, and on the strength of her conviction she went.
" She had been taught that there was a value in prayer — that if
she prayed and had faith, God would answer her prayer."^
-Here is a child of five, who made use of God for
unworthy purposes. Her God was distinctly inferior to
her best self, though she regarded him as the final
authority.
There was evidently an error in this child's teaching.
An unethical mystical experience was taught as superior
to her own moral judgment. This child should be taught
to associate God with her own best self, not her worst
self, and through the wise regulations of her family life
she should have found ample experience of God's good-
ness and wisdom. Inasmuch as she was ethically, even
» See also Cases 12 and 19, App. I, pp. 25S and 262.
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 37
though not physically, superior to her God, her God was
not a part of her real religious life. This is the sort of
God that will soon be cast aside as superstition, unless
this girl's vital experience can be transformed so as to
promote her own religious growth.
On the other hand, many a child gets the idea that
God is a great master-mechanic, doing astonishing tricks
with stones and earth. The child can understand some-
thing of the achievements of such a God, because he has
tried to make mud pies. But if we expect to get a
reverential attitude toward God (and apart from the
attitude of reverence, the idea of God is not religious),
we shall be disappointed. A small boy of three and a
half who had been taught that God makes the wind blow
was exceedingly annoyed at God for blowing his hair
into his eyes. What more natural? But this is not the
basis of reverence. Indeed, a more natural idea of God
was possessed by the boy who, in trying to estimate
God's abiUty, said, *' Why, he's so big he could spit from
here to the barn.'' The God of nature, of stars and
infinite spaces, is an adolescent's God. He depends for -
his supremacy upon a breadth and depth of imagina-
tion quite out of the five-year-old's range.
No. It is not God the Santa Glaus, nor God the
magician that supplies the religious needs of Beginners
in religion. It is God the Father. Let us take our cue
from the child's own interest in functions, in actions and
purposes, in behavior. Let us interpret God to him*
through the behavior, not of things, but of people, and
teach him to look for God in what men and women do
when they are at their best.
The unseen companions of childhood are well known —
not simply fairies with Santa Glaus as the biggest fairy
38 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
of all; but ordinary little sisters and brothers with whom
the imaginative child carries on what seems to be a
vital fellowship. The notion of God as an unseen com-
panion is not a difficult one for childhood. But what
should distinguish God, the great Companion, from these
other inhabitants of his world? First, of course, he is
distinguished by his purpose, which is not to bring nice
presents to good children nor to keep it from raining on
the Fourth of July. His purpose must be interpreted
in appropriate terms at each step in the child's progress,
as the establishment of the Family or Commonwealth
of God. Jesus was insistent in emphasizing God's
purpose for the present and the future in terms of a
reorganized society, and a new kind of person, who comes
Jnto being because of his relation to this new society.
So the child's God must be a God of love and justice,
and every advance in the child's moral consciousness
must definitely be capitalized in his idea of God. His
God must grow in moral purpose as he does, else he will
be cast aside or cease to be an instrument of religion.
' In the second place, the child's God is distinguished
from his other unseen associates by the fact that he be-
longs to the fellowship which he does see. Father and
mother and teacher, brothers and sisters and class-
mates, old and young ahke, all acknowledge this fellow-
ship of God and frequently speak with him. Only by
this consciousness of social fellowship can the idea of
God maintain itself in the child's growing experience of
the world, and only so can his idea of God grow with his
growing social experience.
Prayer. This leads us to the problem of prayer as a
means of rehgious development. Up to this time the
child's prayers have been largely his mother's. He is
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 39
trying to participate himself, especially in the family
prayers, if he is so fortunate as to find them in his home.
He has listened as his mother spoke with God at his
bedside, and he has occasionally ventured to add a word
of his own. But the need is growing for a more definite
and complete fellowship, such as can come only through
greater effort.
The major part of the training in prayer belongs
properly to the parents. Unfortunately this work will
be left undone in most instances. Much will depend,
therefore, on the way the church-school teacher handles
this problem.^
This is not the place to discuss the methods involved.
The principle, however, is clear, and is well illustrated
by the following incident:
Unsatisfied with the classic " Now I lay me," a mother sought a
more natural prayer for her six-year-old son. The best she could
think of was a modification which read as follows:
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord me safe to keep,
And when the morning comes again,
Please help me to be good. Amen.
The first time he used this prayer happened to be after an occa-
sion of recognized moral delinquency. A small cousin wanted to
play with the boy's Hallowe'en cap, but was refused permission on
purely selfish grounds. After saying this prayer, the boy jumped
out of bed, ran and got the cap and took it to his cousin, saying,
" This is the way to be good."
Defective as this prayer is in some respects, it at least
was answered on the spot in a way quite within the
comprehension of a child.
Many children so love the repetition of the same words
» Teachers of Beginners would do well to consult Mary E. Rankin's A Courat
for Beginners in Relioioua Education, on this problem.
40 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
that the thought-content is crowded out and the repeti-
tion becomes a mere incantation. This mere chanting
of words has httle if any value for the child beyond the
momentary pleasure he has in saying the familiar form.
The habit of saying the same form over and over again
without thought as to its meaning may become so firmly
fixed that the child may not dare to go to sleep without
this ritual. This is of course mere superstition and is
the farthest removed from Christian prayer. Many
boys and girls on arriving at years of independence have
suddenly waked up to the fact that they were saying a
child's prayer every night which meant nothing to them,
and, not knowing any more adequate ways of praying,
have given up the practise altogether.
Even the child who found so much help in the prayer
quoted above soon got to using it mechanically. Its
rhythmical form helped in this devitaUzing process.
A prose form, with more intimate touch with the
child's life, would help solve the problem. Here is one
suggested by Professor Coe:
" Jesus, when he was a boy like me, obeyed his parents; when
he grew up he went about helpmg people, and was forgiving towards
those who did him wrong. Help me, our Father, to be like him, and
especially to be helpful to father and mother, to be truthful, and to
be kind even to those who are imkind to me. Amen."
Opportunity for the insertion of special reasons for
gratitude, or special events of the day for which the need
of forgiveness is felt, or special interests and aspirations,
or petitions, is desirable. The best guide to the en-
couragement of such intimate and personal relations
with the Father is found in the mother's own prayer or
in the family prayers, where the grown-ups themselves
humbly confess their own shortcomings and their desire
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 41
for a closer approximation to the ideal of life for them-
selves and for every one.
Children must begin to organize their hves about an
ideal which has as its sanction fellowship with an ideal
companion. The keenest punishment for a normal child
is the loss of desired companionship. He is quickly-
affected by any changes in the temperature of the
spiritual atmosphere. He can be helped to be sensitive
also to the attitude of the divine Father whose will is
made known through his own higher desires, and through
the higher selves of others.
The Child's Jesus. Teachers will ask, " What place
has Jesus in the religion of a Beginner? " Obviously,
any attempt to indoctrinate the youngsters with a
philosophical formulation of the place of Christ in sys-
tematic theology is sublimely ridiculous. Fortunately
it usually does httle harm. But it may do harm by con-
fusing the child's notion of God. " God is hke Jesus,"
is a legitimate approach. But we find that Jesus'
Godlike qualities can be understood by the child only
through the medium of the child's own experience of
these qualities in his own immediate associates. It is
at best a secondary experience of God that the child gets
if he must wait until he understands Jesus before he
understands God. The simpUcity of the gospel makes
its direct appeal in present human life.
On the other hand, the Beginners are beginners. They
have a long future before them in which Jesus will take
a more and more prominent place. Such stories about
him as will win their interest and affection are, therefore,
wholesome even at this early stage. The baby Jesus
they love. It is with the baby Jesus they should begin.
But let us not introduce hopeless confusion into their
42 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
little minds by trying to get them to identify the baby
Jesus with God, save as all babies are a manifestation of
God in the love that they call forth. No wonder people
are worried by doubts and difficulties when they are
taught as children to pray to the baby Jesus for the
gifts of fatherhood!
The acknowledgment of the leadership of the man
Jesus, Master of life, will come later, when the appeal of
his wonderful personality will enhst the enthusiastic
devotion of the hero-worshiper. It is sufficient for the
present that the boy Jesus should himself exhibit to the
child all that is desirable in childhood, and that his love
for children, when he grew up, should be a famiUar story.
For so will the childish ideals gradually cluster around
him, and the childish heart respond to the call of his
affection.
Summary of the Needs of Five- Year-Olds. Let
us finally sum up the needs of youngsters of five which
challenge the teacher of reUgion, and endeavor to formu-
late the aim and method of our work with them.
We must not forget the limitations in experience and physical
equipment which determin.e the range of their activities. They
can neither read nor write, but they can draw and sing and make
things. They require activity, both physical and mental, for they
cannot long remain still nor can they learn without doing things
themselves. But their action must be directed so as to form habits
of conduct which bear the Christian stamp. They do not respond
readily to ideas of conduct, however. They need actual situations
as stimuli to conduct, rather than aphorisms and proverbs and ser-
mons. In forming notions of correct behavior, they need standard
images of behavior in the form of stories and incidents embodying
the desired behavior in recognizable form. But better than stories,
even, is the conduct of teachers and pupils and parents, offering
objects for imitation. As an offset to self-seeking tendencies and
as a basis of Christian morality, they need the cultivation and ra-
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 43
tionalizing of the parental instinct. They need habits of feeling as
well as of conduct, — the cultivation of Christian attitudes in the
relations of home and school. They need, finally, a definite social
interpretation of self and of the world, reaching as early as possible
a notion of self as one of God's children, and a notion of the worid
as a friendly place to hve in, and a place in which people are trying
to do what God, the All-Father, desires.
The Purpose of Religious Education for Five-
Year-Olds. To formulate our purpose briefly, then, it
is this :
1. To develop a Christian type of social response in action and
attitude, within the child's limited environment, both real and
imaginary.
2. To assist him to a social interpretation of his environment which ^
shall include God as the great Father of all.
3. To assist the growing consciousness of self to come to a head in ^
a self-consciousness which includes a recognition of the reality and
the claims of other selves, as also children of God.
The Essentials of Method Formulated. The
essentials of our method can be formulated thus:
1. There must be a cooperative group-life in the class in which-
all participate as best they can. The children must find some
common enterprises, which carry out in one way or another some
truly Christian motive. The best condition is attained when this
enterprise is itself definite cooperation with others outside the class,
whether in-the rest of the school or with some neighboring family
or with neglected or over-favored children or with children of dis-
tant lands who are needed to enlarge the fellowship of the beginners
and who also, it may be, need the loving help of our children.
2. Intimately associated with this cooperation in many forms of
activity is the training in worship, through songs and prayers and -
verses, that serves to assist conscious fellowship with the Father,
and to identify the best the children know and desire with his will.
3. And finally, there should be assistance from the teacher in ^
the way of stories which embody examples of the desired conduct
and which elicit the desired attitude and help to formulate the
44 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
desired ideal — stories of action giving vivid experiences of animals
or children or men in situations that are like those the pupils them-
selves constantly meet.
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. Study the home and school life of a live-year-old and make a
list (a) of conditions which favor Christian growth, and (b) condi-
tions which hinder the same child's Christian growth.
2. Compare the plays of five-year-olds with those of twelve-year-
olds.
3. How would you make the Christian idea of God vivid to chil-
dren of five who come from non-Christian or unchristian homes?
4. What ideas of God have you discovered among five-year-old
children? How would you change these ideas?
6. What play activities of five-year-olds can be made use of to
promote growth in Christian living? How may these plays be used
in a scheme of religious education?
6. Read Cases 10-19, App. I, pp. 257 ff.
CHAPTER IV
OBSERVING THE RELIGIOUS LIFE OF CHILDREN
The Science of Child Study ^
If the suggestions made at the close of the two pre-
ceding chapters have been taken, the reader has by this
time entered on that fascinating voyage of discovery,
the observation of children. Probably certain of the
difficulties that one meets in studying children have
already been encountered. What shall we observe?
What Hght will the things we observe throw on the prob-
lem of the religious life of children? How can we make
the best use of the results of our observations? Before
undertaking the interpretation of the next period of
growth, we will take time now, therefore, to discuss these
questions.
Selecting our Field of Study. Interesting as are
all the facts of child-life, the needs of our study compel
us to confine our attention to certain classes of facts,
and, for the most part, to children who have passed the
years of babyhood. So far as other classes of facts con-
cern us, we shall have to take for granted a few general
statements, or investigate their accuracy at some other
time.
How to study children is by no means a new problem,
as the numerous results of such study clearly indicate.
We wish to know what children do. We cannot look
directly into their minds and see their thoughts and
1 This chapter is based largely on an article by the author in Religious Education
for October, 19 J 5. quotations from which are freely made.
45
46 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
feelings, nor would these necessarily point to what they
are going to do next, even if we could see them. The
only insight into their thoughts and purposes we can
get is through the observation of what they do, nor is it
unreasonable to suppose that what they think is what
they do.
But all that they do is not of equal importance for our
particular interest, necessary as is complete knowledge
for a complete psychology of childhood. For such com-
prehensive knowledge, so far as it exists, we must go to
the standard works on child-nature.
Our selection of facts for study is based on our interest
in the child's religious development. It is his religious
acts that most concern us.
Religious Behavior. What we are trying to produce «
in our schools of rehgion is the Christian type of life.
And our product for each successive year is a type of
Hfe as nearly Christian as we can make it, in view of the
limitations of the pupil in capacity and experience and
environment. It is at once seen that it is far easier to
describe and test the final product, than to describe and
test the steps by which this product is reached. What,
for example, should be expected of a child of ten in the
way of Christian attitudes? In this or that situation,
what may we rightly expect him to do, as the result of
his Christian training? We know fairly well what to
expect of him when he is grown, but we know very Httle
about what we ought to expect of him along the way.
Until we do know, we shall not be able properly to formu-
late our purposes with respect to each grade, nor to
decide intelligently upon just the methods and the course
of study needed to produce this desired result.
This does not mean that we have no aims, beyond our
OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 47
desire to have our boys and girls grow to full Christian
maturity. Rather have we been obliged in formulating
these aims to depend almost altogether on the knowledge
of childhood accumulated by persons not concerned with
rehgious development. We know a good deal about all
sorts of behavior which is more or less involved in relig-
ious behavior. But our direct knowledge of specifically
religious reactions of children is very hmited.
Here are some illustrations of the sort of facts that we
should try to gather. A story was told in the service of
worship in a certain church school which aimed to de-
velop in the children grateful appreciation of what
mothers do for them without pay, and to stimulate the
resolve to make their acts correspond with this sense of
obligation. That is, an effort was made to develop a
conscious purpose to control their acts in accordance with
an ideal. A seven-year-old boy had been in the habit
of depending on his mother for help in dressing. One
morning she was in a hurry and asked him to put on his
stockings himself. He refused, but finally suggested
that he would if his mother would give him a piece of
candy. His mother asked him how it would do for him
to put his stockings on first and for her to give him the
candy afterwards. He thought a minute and then
decided that he would have to put them on anyway and
not take the candy, giving as his reason the fact that the
principal had told a story about being paid for things
(*' What Bradley Owed "). He could not reproduce the
story, but the attitude developed by the story had found
actual expression in his daily life, and he achieved a
moral victory that would have been impossible for him
without that experience.
This, you see, is a brief description of a child's reaction
48 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
in a social situation. Now, suppose we had a thousand
similar instances about children of seven, or of six, or of
five. Would we not be justified in saying that self-
control of the type mentioned can be developed in chil-
dren of a certain age, to at least the degree described,
provided proper aid be given?
Shortly after a certain school adopted the practise of
using unison prayers written especially for the children,
the fourth grade pupils suggested to their teacher that
they have a prayer to be used just in their own class. So
the teacher said that any who wished might compose the
prayer they thought would do, and bring it the following
Sunday. Ten of the children responded, and quite of
their own free will wrote out what they thought such a
prayer should be Hke. Here are one or two of them :
" Our heavenly Father, we thank thee for all the things thou
givest us. We have sinned many times but we hope thou wilt
forgive us. You have given us our earthly mothers and fathers,
our eyes to see with, our nose to smell with, our arms and hands to
feel with, our legs to walk with, our ears to hear with, and our
mouth to eat with and many other wonderful things.
" We thank thee and wish thee to help us to use them in the right
way.
" This we ask in Jesus' name. Amen."
" Dear Lord, help us to be good, and help us to have sweet tem-
pers, and be kind to all people who are worse off than we. Please
help us to be satisfied with all we have. And please give us all we
need. Please forgive us all our sins, for we are sorry for all the
wrong we do. Sometimes we know we're doing something wrong,
and then we are very sorry; other times we forget. We thank thee,
heavenly Father, for all you have given us. All the toys that we
have, our lovely homes, and the good schools we are sent to, and all
the food and clothing we have. And we thank thee heartily for our
fathers and mothers whom thou hast sent to care for us, and we pray
that nothing may happen to them. Amen."
f
OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 49
From a study of these two prayers no assured facts
as to the religious capacity of nine-year-olds can be ob-
tained. It is clear to see that at least these children, with
their particular background of experience, showed evi-
dence of certain definite religious needs and appreciations.
But supposing we had a thousand such prayers, prepared
under conditions accurately described, would we not be
able at least to suggest a few preliminary standards con-
cerning certain attitudes we may expect to develop in
children of nine years?
One more instance. A class of fourteen-year-old boys
started the year with the readiness to discuss and the
reluctance to do that are so often the despair of teachers.
It did not seem as though the problems of Christian con-
duct that they took up in class had any intimate relation
to their own practises. Rehgion and life were things
apart. But in three months the whole situation had
changed. Calls for sympathy and help from classmates
or from persons in distress were no longer disregarded.
Those who had been quite indifferent early in the year
became now enthusiastic volunteers in every enterprise.
And best of all, they all saw why they were doing these
things. They were consciously putting their new-formed
ideals and principles into practise. They were making
experiments in reUgion and were discovering that re-
ligion and life are one.
We are not now discussing methods of teaching.
But suppose we had a complete description of how that
teacher went to work, of the subjects discussed, the ideals
formed, the purposes carried through; and suppose a
thousand other teachers should record similar observa-
tions — would we not have immensely valuable informa-
tion as to the possibilities of boys of fourteen?
50 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Let us now define what we are to have in mind in our
study of religious behavior. We are interested in relig-
ious reactions. But how are we going to know a
religious reaction when we see it? Let us recognize at
once that we are not trying to distinguish moral from
rehgious acts so as to cultivate one apart from the other.
In point of fact, they cannot be so separated in practise.
This is an age of social religion and religious morality.
-ReKgion finds its highest expression in an ideal, perma-
nent, social relation, and morality finds its sanction and
motive in religious experience. The religious quahty
of an act is not to be discovered by observing the act,
simply. Rather do we assign it a religious quaUty when
we know its relation to the individual's past acts, his
values, and purposes. It is when a person's acts are"
expressions of his highest purposes, the means to the
attainment of his highest values, that we call them
religious acts.
Acts which in themselves have no rehgious quahty
may become rehgious acts, when, in the mind of the
individual who performs them, they are consciously
related to the work and fellowship of the divine-human
society we call the kingdom of God. A man is rehgious
just to the extent that his whole being responds to the
world of things permanent and things ideal. Naturally,
all men do not have the same ideals nor the same no-
tions of what is real, and of what is of most worth.
That is why we have the Mohammedan rehgion and the
Hindu rehgion and the Christian rehgion, the rehgion
of the child and the rehgion of the adult. The child is-
a Christian only in so far as his acts are controlled by
the ideas and values we call Christian; but he is rehg-
ious in so far as he is capable of organizing his whole
OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 51
being around what is conceived by him to be of most
worth. We have, thus, two types of growth in religion.
-One is growth in capacity to form and carry out purposes ;
_the other is growth in the quaUty of purposes formed
and the quahty of the ideals and values with reference
to which they are formed. What we need to know is:
What sort of working ideals do children have, and can
children have, at various stages of growth?
So we have to consider such questions as these :
1. How does the child behave in various social situations?
2. What is the relation of his behavior to his consciousness of
what ought to be done in these situations?
3. What purposes does the child form? Does he carry them out?
4. What is the child's idea of God? What place does God have
in the child's experience?
5. What does the child value most? What experiences, or things,
or relations, does he regard as of most worth?
If questions of this character could be asked concern-
ing a great many children of various ages, and the
answers could be properly tabulated, we would be
in a fair way to state the degree of Christianity
that one might expect of any normal child at the
age given.
But this does not tell us how much progress a child
ought to make under given conditions.
In order to discover this, it would be necessary to -
check up the results just indicated by a study of individ-
ual children covering a period of time. That is, in
order to measure progress one must know the state at
the beginning and at the end of the period in question^
and compare the two in such a way as to show the
difference between them. The account of the class of
high-school boys was such a study. With good teaching
52 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
it was found that certain customary opinions concerning
the relation of rehgion to Ufe could be completely re-
versed in a stated time. The same sort of observation
should be made on a great many different matters and
with a great many different children, in order that the
amount of growth and progress proper to each of these
matters in a given space of time and with individuals
under different conditions may be ascertained.
The General Principles of Observation. So much
for what we shall observe. But how shall we go at it?
All we can do here is to outline the general principles
involved and sketch a method for discussion.
First, as to principles of child-study. There is a
large amount of data on children's ways that is almost
worthless because it is incomplete in one respect. We
are told, for example, that at a certain age a child has a
tendency to get angry; at another age he develops a
tendency to fear ; at another age he is capable of love and
hate. But unless we know under just what conditions
he is angry or afraid, or just what he loves and hates and
what experiences lead up to his loving and hating, then
the mere knowledge that he is capable of anger and all
the rest is of little use. The first principle in observa-
tion is, therefore, to observe the situation^ as well as the
act or idea that is called forth by the situation. In studying
a child's prayers, for example, it is not enough to say
that the child said this or that. It is necessary to record
also the experience that led up to his saying this or that,
and the character of the total situation in which the
prayer was said — the mood, the attitude, the experi-
ences of the day, the suggestions of the mother, and 80
on.i
»Cf. the instance in Chapter III, p. 39.
OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 53
The second principle is this: To discover if possible
the relation of the act observed to the child^s notion of why
he did it. We are not content to develop automatons
which perform the desired acts at the proper time.
We want intelHgent human beings, acting in accordance
with self-chosen purposes, and with understanding of the
relation of their acts to the social group of which each is
a member. The boy referred to in Chapter III, who
gave away his cap, had a motive for doing so. He did
it because he knew it was expected of him as a member
of that Uttle society of which God and Jesus and father
and mother and playmates were all members. We
might wish that he had been generous also, but for him
this act represented a motive higher than mere good
feeling. It was the attempt to carry out a self-chosen
purpose to be obedient and kind as God's child should
be. It is this attitude of mind that gave this act its
religious quality.
Attempts should be made to discover motives, and
purposes, and ideals, and notions of right and wrong, and
of other social relations, not by guessing, but by making
more observations, by observing the total reactions of a
child to whole situations.
The two principles so far mentioned — to regard acts
as responses to situations, and to note, if possible, the
relation of the acts to purposes and values — are con-
cerned with the methods of observing isolated acts. The
accumulation of facts of this character would be of great
value for certain purposes ; but it would be of only shght
use for precise description of the Unes and periods of
growth unless checked by a study of the growth of in-
dividual children. Given such and such a degree of
skill, how long should it take to acquire such another
54 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
degree of skill? Or in view of this child's previous train-
ing in religion, what ought we to try to accompUsh with
him during this church-school year?
An approach to the solution of this difficult problem of
individual rates of growth will be made if we can plan
our observations of reHgious reactions to cover definite
periods of time. We will describe what a child does in
a given situation in November, and then find out what
he does in a similar situation in April, and compare the
two reactions, not forgetting to indicate the influences
that have been brought to bear upon him between these
dates. And so we have the third principle of study:
To observe the reactions of a child to similar situations at
different times.
Guiding Rules for Observers. It will be helpful to
indicate in a few brief rules how these principles of obser-
vation will affect our own study of children.
^ 1. In making an observation, record the date, the age
and sex of the child, and some key, such as the child's
name or initials, by which the observation can later be
referred to or identified.
2. The home life of a child is usually a determining
factor in his rehgious and moral reactions. If possible,
therefore, observe and record how religion is treated in
his home, and what the general conditions are. What
are the religious attitudes and habits of each parent?
Is religion talked about in the home? What is said
about it? Describe the family worship, if there is any.
What type of rehgion is characteristic of those employed
to attend the child? What is the method of family
government and discipline? What are the intellectual
interests of the home? About how much is the family
income?
OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 55
3. Exclude from the record of observations all items
of hearsay.
- 4. Distinguish between what is observed and what is
inferred. We can not observe emotions, ideas, motives,
or choices in others. We can only observe acts and words
and other modes of expression, and the consequences and
products of a child's acts. Exclude opinions such as
" One day when Ohver had been naughty " — say what
he did.
5. Record ordinary as well as extraordinary conduct.
We need to know what any ordinary child may be ex-
pected to do and say under ordinary circumstances.
6. With the record of an act should go a careful state-
ment of the situation in which the act occurred. By
*' situation " is meant anything that throws hght on
what he desired, attempted, enjoyed or disHked, thought
about, meant by his words, and why he made just this
reaction rather than some other, e. g., where was the
child? who was present? what was going on? what had
the child been doing immediately before? what had been
said in his hearing? what previous experience had he had
of such situations?
7. Observe a child under as many different situations
as possible. In this way one reaction will throw Hght
upon another. The most valuable records are those of
the same child over a period of years.
8. Get hold of diaries, journals, letters, stories written,
drawings, and the Hke, that throw Ught on the child's
moral and reUgious growth. Photographs showing chil-
dren doing any spontaneous act are of great value. ^
1 Readers may be interested in a pamphlet called Cooperative Study of the Relig-
ious Life of Children, which contains a set of valuable questions for the guidance
of observation. It is printed by the Religious Education Association, 1440 East
57th Street, Chicago, and will be sent free on request.
56 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Experimental Observation. Suppose hundreds of
cases, such as those suggested here, were to be accumu-
lated and classified by types of situation and types of
behavior. It would be discovered that a few children of
a certain age were capable of behaving in a certain way
under certain conditions, and in another way under
other conditions, and so on, through every type of be-
havior reported on and for each age. A list of observed
behaviors would result. But are these behaviors char-
acteristic or normal? The only way to find out is to try
out a lot more children and see what proportion of them
behave in the way indicated for the appropriate ages.
By repeating experiments and changing the tests, a set
of standard types of behavior would gradually be de-
veloped for each age of childhood, so that we could say
confidently, " Eighty out of one hundred children of
professional parents will, by the second birthday, be
able to ignore books on the lowest shelves, or at least will
not touch them when requested not to "; or, " Seventy
out of every one hundred children of all classes will
possess a similar seK-control.'' And so on, through a
long list of typical situations of childhood. We would
know that the twenty or thirty per cent of children who
could not do this are to this extent below standard and
need special training or patience.
It will be a long time before such laws of behavior will
result from the study of children. Meanwhile, the best
we can do is to accumulate facts and classify them as
best we may. The following ways of putting together
things that belong together are suggested :
System in Observation. Students would do well
to have a child-study notebook, loose leaf. This should
have a sort of daybook and ledger arrangement, so that
OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 57
the facts concerning different children can be kept
separate, and facts concerning the same type of behavior
be assembled. If only one child is being studied, the
diary-form is satisfactory, with the separate obser-
vations carefully listed. If several children are being
studied for any length of time, each should have his own
pages in the notebook.
As far as possible, each complete observation should
occupy a separate page so that it can be easily removed
and placed with similar observations for purposes of
comparison. This necessitates some simple system of
identification, so that pages once removed can be easily
reassembled. Such a method is represented below.
Age Sex Date Classification.
Name or Identification
Significant facts about child's family
Significant facts about child's home life, etc.
What the child said and did, and the occasion, i. e., the situation
and the response. Include all essentials, not forgetting: persons
present, previous happenings, the time and place.
But some guide to constructive thinking about the
facts observed is needed. We should have a scheme
or diagram on which to hang our facts. This diagram
should approximate wholeness and comprehensiveness,
so as to avoid our getting into the habit of thinldng of
the child as a diagram or as made up of various quahties
and abilities. Further, the emphasis in this chart
58
CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
should be on the child's behavior in its setting. The
bare bones of such a scheme will be found in Appendix
III, Chart A.
Various summaries of facts by which groups of differ-
ent ages can be compared more definitely are also help-
ful, e. g., Question 1, below, would secure the detailed
information on the basis of which a chart Hke the follow-
ing could be prepared.
THE WAT BOYS SPEND THEIR TIME
The time, in hours, is the average per week for those reporting
the activity.
AVERAGE HOURS FOR NUMBER REPORTING
ACTIVITY THOSE REPORTING IN EACH GROUP
Age groups: 12-14 15-17 12-14 15-17
Asleep 70.4 63 14 7
Awake 97.6 105 14 7
At Home 35.6 34.5 14 7
At School 33 27 14 6
Study 8 10.4 14 6
Church School 1.5 1.5 11 6
Study for Church School. . . 0.3 ?
Special Lessons 4.5 1.5 7 2
Entertainments 5 7.3 5 6
Housework 2.3 1.5 4 3
Business 1.5 1.5 1 1*
Indoor Play 8.6 6.4 7 5
Outdoor Play 11.7 8.5 14 7
Meals and Dressing 14.5 14 14 7
Miscellaneous 6 4.5 4 2
Unaccounted for 9 9 11 7
♦Of those in school.
Help will also be found in E. P. St. John's chart,^
and in Coe's chart reproduced in Appendix III.
» A valuable Chart of Childhood, published by The Pilgrim Press, Boston.
OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 59
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. Secure detailed time schedules from as many children as
possible (one is better than none), and summarize your findings as
shown above, under " The Way Boys Spend Their Time." A con-
venient form for recording facts is shown in Appendix III, Chart C.
2. If you have any other way of thinking of " religious acts "
than that described in this chapter, write out your point of view and
give illustrations of acts you would prefer to call religious. Analyze
the illustrations.
3. Visit a child at home and then at school and compare his
behavior in the two situations. How does this child behave in
church school? What is the relation between his behavior at home
and at either school?
- 4. Start a collection of children's prayers.
6. The following references will be found useful at this stage of
our study:
George A. Coe, Education in Religion and Morals, Chapters I
and II.
George A. Coe, A Social Theory of Religious Education, Chapter IV.
E. A. Kirkpatrick, The Individual in the Making, Chapter I.
CHAPTER V
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT
Helping Children Grow in the Religious Life
General Changes of Mind and Body. By the
time a child is in Grade I, he will have become fairly
steady in his grip upon the real world of persons and
things. Some children, to be sure, seem to let go of
their imaginary world with difficulty, and confuse the
fanciful and the actual for a long time. Others are
excessively matter-of-fact and find no pleasure in flights
of fancy. They want hard facts and cold truth. Most
children, however, still enjoy fairy stories, and, while
not really believing them, can enter into the spirit of the
tale with whole-hearted enthusiasm. They " play up '^
easily and respond with ready feehng to the lead
of teacher or pupil. This readiness to respond in all
sorts of unexpected ways to all sorts of unforeseen stimuli
is a perplexing problem for the teacher. With active
minds and bodies, the seven-year-olds, unless subdued
by an oppressive school or home Hfe or by weakness,
offer a fund of exuberant vitahty which only waits the
guiding hand of the teacher to be transformed into con-
trolled cooperation.
During these years, most of the children will learn to
read and write and figure. But reading and writing are
not yet so well under control as to be economical means
of expression. It is not in the control of the finer
coordinations needed for free use of eye and hand that
60
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 61
growth is most conspicuous. It is in the use of arms and
legs that most progress is made. Watch how much more
sure-footed and vigorous the eight -year-old is than the
five-year-old. The httle fellows seem very small to be
sure when compared with those of ten or twelve, but
they are far more able to care for themselves than they
were three years before. Running games are favorites.
Tag is universal. Just to chase another is a dehght,
and of equal excitement is it to be chased.
Physical Limitations. But it is easy for these little
fellows to overdo. Their love of activity goes beyond
their endurance, and they finish many a day quite worn
out. This is partly due to the fact that their hearts and
lungs have not developed as rapidly as their locomotive
powers, and so cannot keep up the strain of constant
recuperation from muscular fatigue. Care must be
taken, therefore, that older children do not tempt
the younger ones to play beyond their strength.
Growing Stability and Self -Control. Coupled
with this growth in size and control is the growth of
experience with things and people. Part of the increas-
ing stability is due simply to the fixing of habits, the
achieving of particular skills in acts that heretofore have
consumed much time and energy. It is no longer a
supreme task to get dressed and undressed. The friction
of conflict of desires is lessening by the achievement of
a social consciousness that recognizes the superiority of'
the group and by a gradual accumulation of habits
of adjustment which ehminate conscious strains and
efforts. Obedience to the customs of the family hfe, •
if these are wise, should be fast becoming automatic.
The increasing desire to " stay up," for example, should
be anticipated by creating a delight in the regular bed-
62 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
time hour. The crystaKzing of routine should relieve
the impulsive and whimsical little fellows of the tyranny
of their own caprice.
Growing stability is due also to an increase in the
accuracy of images of conduct, and the increasing con-
trol of conduct by practical concepts which assist in the
recognition of famihar elements in new situations and
in calling out appropriate responses. The " cues "
to proper action are increasing in number, and less and
less is the child dependent on the unintelligent impulse
of original nature. In other words, the children are
accumulating a stock of experience on which they can
draw, and on the basis of which they can interpret and
control the future.
The Purposeful Organization of Acts and In-
terests. To just what extent purposes can be formed
and utilized by children of six, seven and eight we do
not fully know. Nor do we know just the nature of
the purposes that are most effective in controlling con-
duct. We do know that even more than with adults
the actual connections between ideas and acts must be
made in experience if ideas of acts are to serve as agents
of control. The child who cannot stop an impulsive
tendency and cannot anticipate in imagination the
consequences of various possible reactions and choose
among them is not yet capable of rehgious behavior.
He is moving not toward organization, but toward dis-
organization of life.
The boy learns the uses of tools by watching and help-
ing his father use tools. The girl learns the purpose of a
broom by having a broom of her own with which she
can perform the same acts that her mother performs.
In the same way, the boy learns to foresee results and
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 63
adapt means to ends by participating with his father in
an enterprise which involves planning toward a desired
result. The girl discovers her mother's purpose in the
cleanliness of the room by sharing in the work of making
two square feet of the room clean. These are simple
elements in a complex sharing of purposes and plans with
the whole family and with other cooperating groups of
children and grown-ups, by which the child acquires
social experience and social purposes.
The Broadening of Human Interest and Contact.
The range of the social contacts of children in the
elementary grades is of course much broader than that
of the Beginners. School Ufe is more complex. The
street is more often accessible, and for too many children
it is the only playground. The Uttle fellows are learn-
ing to buy things in stores, and so they meet in a con-
crete way certain real economic problems and problems
of social adjustment. They ride on the cars, they see
the postman make his rounds; the same delivery boy
that brings things to eat to his home is now seen pushing
his cart or driving his horse ; and the goods that used to
appear mysteriously on the table are now seen piled up
on counters and purchased by buyers of every descrip-
tion.
The imaginary world is also enlarging by the increasing
fund of stories and incidents listened to in school, at
table — and from under the table when nobody knows
that the big ears of the little pitchers are keenly on the
job.
Intellectual Interests. A growing curiosity about
things and people makes instruction relatively easy
up to a certain point, but beyond this point it becomes
relatively hard. For the interest of childhood is various,
64 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
not persistent. Quickly satisfied with an easy and
shallow explanation, the children of fortune become
blase and all-wise, and for them there is about some
topics " nothing new under the sun.''
Guiding the Instincts. Intellectual life, in other -
words, is relatively of minor importance. The working ^
out of great physical instincts makes an irresistible
demand upon attention and interest, and the training we
provide largely concerns the proper guidance of these
tendencies in channels of valuable experience. The^
unorganized games of childhood in which every man is
for himself yet without keen desire for victory provide
splendid training in muscular control and afford also
an experience in at least a limited cooperation for a
good time. The very limitations in the capacity for
team-play call attention to problems of adjustment
and to the underlying conditions of having fun together.
The parental instinct can be directed into channels of
social usefulness as an antidote to the tendency to tease ^
and annoy, while the teasing can be brought vividly to
consciousness as an undesirable type of activity by a
social scorn which deprives the offender of the right to '
cooperate in the common fun.
The Educational Value of Imitative Plays. Be-
yond making use of the instinctive activities mentioned,
however, we have a splendid ally in the delight children
take in representing the activities of their elders. By
playing at housekeeping, at buying and selling, at
school-teaching, and so on, the children acquire a basis
in experience for a better understanding of these social
enterprises, and a group of habits that makes more con-
scious cooperation easier. But this more conscious co-
operation should not be postponed. The spirit of play
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 65
is not destroyed when the children can be made to feel
that playing at keeping house may be of real value to
the family hfe. It all depends on the degree to which
the older members of the family can put the play spirit
into the round of household duties. Why should not
parents and children together play at their work, the
elders entering into the reaUty of the child's world of
play and the children catching the spirit of the game of
life from the good sportsmanship of father and mother?
The Development of Attitudes. What the family
does and feels determines chiefly the social development
of the children of this age. The principle of learning
the acts and purposes connected with the use of things
through cooperation with others who are using things for
a purpose applies also to the learning of the forms and
purposes of Christian behavior. The Christian attitude,
is caught, just as the unchristian attitude is. Children
are not naturally snobs. Though some may be born
snobs, most of our httle snobs have had snobbishness
thrust upon them by their fussy parents. The race
problem among children is the natural consequence of
racial antagonism among parents. Let the children
alone and matters of color and race are not within the
field of attention. In the fraternity of childhood, all
are welcome who will play the game.
Socialization Through Loyalty to Family. Loyalty
to the family and its attitudes is at once a hope and a
stumbling-block for the teacher of religion. The child
resents any reflection on his parents' superiority. He
has a real family pride even at the tender age of six.-
This is a worthy feehng. We desire not less of such
loyalty, but more. The child not only is a part of the
little group; he is now becoming conscious of the fact
66 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
that there are other similar groups. At the same time
that he is emerging as a self-conscious member of a-
Uttle circle of family and playmates, his family itself is
emerging in his consciousness as a social unit, which he
identifies now with himself. By and by he will identify
himself with other and larger units until finally this
socializing process completes itself in identification with
the universal society, the achievement of a completely
socialized will.
Elementary Cooperation in the Christian Pro-
gram. The church -school class can make a vital con-
tribution to this process. It can make cooperation in
some Christian endeavor the most interesting thing
in the world. The particular forms of Christian activity
that are appropriate to the early years of childhood are '
largely the forms of simple neighborliness. Problems of
social reconstruction to which the children can make no
present contribution should not be forced upon their
attention. If these are problems which they face, how-
ever, in their daily Hves, they cannot be ignored, and
the children will have to be convinced that some one is
trying to help matters. The son of a wage-earner who
can find no employment is directly confronted with a
great social problem about which Christianity has some-
thing to say. Although the seven-year-old son can
himself as yet do nothing about the removal of the con-
dition of unemployment, he can be led to have the
Christian's resentment at the condition, and to beheve
(if true) that Christians are trying, not only to help his -
father get work now, but to help all fathers always. If
the strain arises between loyalty to family and loyalty
to the church as represented in the church-school class, r
it will be because the church is faiUng in its Christian
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 67
duty toward the family, and church and child alike will
be the victims of this tragic neglect.
'* Cooperation " versus ** Charity." The question
is always raised : What can children of these tender years
actually do in the way of real social cooperation?
Let us first get rid of certain notions of service which
are vicious in their effect upon the child's rehgious de-
velopment. By simple neighborUness we do not mean
condescending hand-outs to '* the poor," nor are we
Hmited in our social horizon to a series of geographic
circles ever widening in their area.
The Achievement of Friendship and Justice.
Anything which creates class consciousness is to be
avoided as the invention of the devil. But how? It is
clear that here, as in so many other cases, no man can
be saved alone. As long as some are outside and some
inside, the children of the insiders will look down on the
outsiders and vice versa. And to be inside instead of
outside means, psychologically, to be working together
for a common purpose. It means being friends, not
dolers and recipients of charity. It means giving the
child's instinctive love the controlling vision of justice.
Not that love should first seek justice for itself and tem-
per its good-will with calculation of its own right, but
that it should first seek justice for all, and infuse into its
good-will a glowing enthusiasm for the rights of all, even
the rights of enemies.
The benevolences, therefore, are to be transformed into
the costs of justice and the gifts of friendship.
Cultivating the Attitude of Brotherhood. One
of the ways by which a universal attitude of brotherhood
can be cultivated, in contrast with the counterfeit
called by this name, is this. Our attitudes are simply
68 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
phases of our activity. They are a part of our general
movement toward some biological or human end. It
is helpful, however, to pick them out of the stream of
life and center our attention on them. We can some-
times best get our interpretation of action by studying -
the attitude that goes with it.
We find that we can insert an influence into the stream
of life's activity at the point where attitude is prominent
in consciousness, and, by controlHng the attitude, con-
trol also the thought and act. Attitudes foretell our
acts as well as our thoughts. But they also grow out of
acts and thoughts. Each achievement reflects upon the
general attitudes that precede future achievements, and
each achievement influences each next achievement, not
merely by the extra wear upon the ruts of our nervous
mechanism, but by the effect upon our whole mental set.
To establish relatively permanent mental sets that are
characteristically Christian is one of our main objects.
We must therefore plan for the kind of action which will
have as part of its effect the forming of these social atti-
tudes.
To allow the child to find satisfaction in snobbish acts
is to confirm him in snobbish attitudes and to assist him
to organize his whole outlook on life in aristocratic forms.
If he is to have the same friendly and humble attitude
toward all, he must treat all aUke, and assume in all the
same fundamental desire for the great end of life, which
is social justice. Among his circle of friends, therefore,
the child must count children of as many classes and
races as possible, and with all he must assume a friendly
cooperation for the good of all. This means, for the-
child, sharing good times, giving presents which add to
another's happiness, exchanging postals with other chil-
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 69
dren, or doing other things that will increase the feeling
of friendship, and doing these things entirely without
reference to the other child's geographical or social or
economic or intellectual position.
World Fellowship. This brings us to the second
problem, that of the theory of concentric circles. The
child of course begins his social contacts somewhere, and
gradually increases them. But these increases are not
by any means geographically determined. They might
have been so determined when there were no means
of transportation or communication with those outside
one's own hamlet. But today the world is one com-
munity, and what goes on in China is known here before it
is known by China's own four hundred milHons. It is
as easy to send a postal to Beirut or Lahore as it is to send
one to the next town. The problem is the estabhsh-
ment of real social contacts. The enlargement of a
child's horizon might and should be so planned as to
embrace from the beginning the whole world community
and to spread out not so much geographically as in the
kind and complexity of social contacts and social prob-
lems involved in human fellowship. The same kind of
problems of adjustment should be faced by the six-year-
old in his relationships with immigrants from southern
Italy as are faced in his daily school hfe. As he grows
and encounters fresh problems, these enlargements of
the sphere of active social hving will include his relations
with the children and grown-ups of other places, together
with whom he is gradually entering into the fulness of
the world's Hfe.
One of the enterprises of a first-grade class was the
preparation of a book containing pictures of American
homes and public buildings, personal messages, and so
70 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
on, which was to be sent to some children in China.
These Chinese children were just school children Uke
themselves, but they had not seen America and wanted
to know how American children hved. And these
American children were telling them in the language of
pictures and by little friendly letters. Here was the
reality of world brotherhood in the simplest and most
effective form — the fellowship of children.
Some Typical Childhood Interests. There are a
few typical interests of these childhood days that we
should keep in mind. The indefatigable investigating
desire — the insistence upon experiencing and knowing
— this, when it is not blunted by over-stimulation, is a
constant source of satisfaction to the real teacher. This
inquisitiveness includes as its objects, of course, the
things of nature: flowers, and stones, and bugs. These
occupy a large part of conscious attention if the child has
access to them, and without access to them his Ufe in-
terests are necessarily impoverished.
A seven-year-old boy offered the following exquisite
prayer after a happy Thanksgiving :
" Dear God, we thank thee for the creatures that swimmeth in
the sea, for the wild beasts that prowleth in the forests, for the flowers
that waveth in the breeze, for the bee that bringeth honey, even
for the fly that buzzeth in the summertime; and in the end we thank
thee for our lovely Thanksgiving dinner. Amen."
Witness the miscellaneous assortment of specimens
in a small boy's pocket and back yard. He loves to
accumulate little odd things, precious objects of play
or of exchange, and will bargain the less precious for
the coveted possessions of his neighbors. This interest
in barter is only beginning, however, and among city
children has Httle opportunity for proper expression.
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 71
The puzzle interest is beginning, and can be made some
use of, although the type of puzzle is of course very-
simple. Children love to play with words, to make --
rhymes and simple puns. Their use of language is
relatively self-conscious, and they seem to take dehght
in the mere sound of words, and to gather meanings from
the tone and inflection with extraordinary facility.
They are ready to see a story in almost anything, whether -
a picture or a piece of music, and love to act out the
events, taking parts unconsciously so far as action is
concerned, and vividly representing, with the help of
literal symbolism, almost any sort of narrative. A
second-grade class dramatized on the spur of the mo-^
ment an animal story which included the personifying
of animals, trees, flowers and insects. The children had
no hesitation in being a tree or a toadstool or a squirrel
and behaved in the appropriate manner. There is -
considerable evidence that this dramatizing process
goes on even though the children merely Usten to a story.
They readily put themselves in the places of the char-
acters and sympathetically experience what they experi-
ence. An imaginary letter from an Armenian orphan
was read in a service of worship telling how the little girl
lived without any home, hunting for food, and exposed
to cold and danger. When asked afterward, *' How did
you feel when you heard the letter? " a httle eight-
year-old boy said, " I felt just as though it all was hap-
pening to me."
They do not easily express themselves spontaneously
in spoken words, however, and spontaneous representa-
tion must, therefore, depend on action for its effect.
But they take great pleasure in saying things they have
learned, particularly if they are strongly rhythmical.
72 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
I have seen a seven-year-old break right into the class
work by the first line of "It was the night before
Christmas," and immediately the whole class was
stampeded into a choral chanting of the whole poem.
Nothing could have stopped them but violence.
Religious Behavior and Religious Needs. In
what does the rehgious life of these httle fellows consist
and how can normal growth in the rehgious Hfe be
promoted?
We have to ask here, as at all stages of growth, What
sort of purposes can they form and carry out? What
habits and what insight into social action do they require
to make the purposes they do form effective? What is
the nature of a childish ideal and how can children be
helped to put value upon ever higher and higher ideals?
The children are moving in a realm of relatively simple
human relationships as we saw above. Their rehgious
life must concern these relationships. Their major
interests include fun and helpfulness and curiosity.
Rehgion must have something to say about good times
and friendship and the pursuit of knowledge. The
Christian standards of sportsmanship and brotherhood
and truthfulness must become the children's standards,
and these must be in a form sufficiently concrete for
them to grasp and apply. They must discover their
freedom and joy in cooperation, not in selfishness ; and
in their cooperation, not in their isolation, they should
find fellowship with God. The conditions of this
fellowship are the same as for the Beginner, but God will
mean more and more to the growing child as the child's
experience grows and this insight into the meaning of
a father's (or, it may be, a teacher's) love is given
definiteness.
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 73
Prayers of Childhood. A magnificent opportunity
for securing religious organization is afforded in the bed-
time prayers of childhood; but how often is this neg-
lected! We saw in the last chapter one instance of
effective prayer. Children are not learned in the wiles
of the world. Most of them are not capable of maintain-
ing permanently a calm exterior over a memory stored
with explosive regrets. They desire moral fellowship,
and this they know can be preserved only in an atmos-
phere of frank sincerity. Many a child's soul is saved
by a parent's thoughtful sympathy in encouraging the
confession of misdeeds and in giving assurance of a re-
stored fellowship with God. Little assurance need be
given, for the child finds in his own peace of mind the
secret of the answering of prayer. ^
Securing the Control of Acts by Christian Ideals
and Motives. What is then the form of the mental
process called religious in early childhood? In general,
as we have seen, the process is a movement within the
impulses and desires of fife by which these are criticized
and revalued and constantly reorganized in terms of, or
under the dominance of, some supreme motive. As the
child grows, this criticism is made more and more
independently, by the use of standards which are more
and more abstract in their form. The dominant and
organizing principle is gradually more perfectly defined
in terms of a life purpose. In early childhood neither
abstract standards nor an intelhgent life purpose is
possible. The standards by which conduct is judged
are necessarily concrete examples of conduct or simple
rules or propositions which define conduct in terms of
^An interesting instance of this desire for harmony of mind is seen in a story
quoted in Case 18, App. I, which see.
74 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
deeds rather than in terms of qualities or principles.
The meaning of the term " justice " for example cannot
be grasped by the average child of seven or eight except
as another name for a particular kind of act, such as
giving back a stolen knife. But these just deeds are of
great interest to them, and simple rules which formu-
late what they themselves have found to be the condi-
tions of happy cooperation are exceedingly useful as
means of self-control.
The older children in a settlement had a council
through which they participated in the conduct of the
organization. The Htter left in the hall- ways was ob-
jectionable. So the council included among the house
rules that halls must be kept clean. But the children
under eleven or twelve did not respond to this ideal at
all. So another rule was made saying that paper must
not be left in the halls. This worked. It described
the actual deed, rather than a general purpose.
The organized purposes of children should therefore
be in terms of deeds and their immediate consequences,
rather than in the abstract terms of adult life. These are
the first steps toward the control of acts by far-seeing
and therefore relatively general and abstract purposes
which require long experience and a more mature type
of mental action to make them effective in present
conduct.
For the little fellows these practical rules are a vital
factor in their self -organization. It is the teacher's
task to see that the rules describe Christian types of
action and are understood by the children in terms of
actual experience. Little by Httle as the child's ability
to grasp larger and larger relations grows, the rules
grow more general until finally they are all included under
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 75
the single great purpose and principle of the Christian
life, which is love.
It is of course essential that the little rules and prov-
erbs which children use as means of self-control and as
standards of action should be their own. If the teacher
makes the rule or gets it out of a book and expects the
children to obey it because of some superior authority
which she or the book possesses, the rule will be a means
of enslaving, rather than a means of hberating, the will.
What we seek in rehgion is control from within. Con-
trol from without is the antithesis of rehgion. The
process of growth in rehgion is a process of liberation
from external control and, at the same time, of increase
in inner control.
Of recent years, in our effort to gain freedom from the
external control, we have sometimes placed too little
emphasis on the necessity of corresponding self-control.
The result has frequently been the subjection of the
child to his own unorganized desires. Unless these
happen by accident to be of a social rather than
an anti-social color, the result is the criminal, the
selfish, the cranky, the dehumanized man or woman.
Better far than this is a continuation of external
control which secures at least the appearance of
goodness.
This process of making a rule one's own is the same as
for any kind of action involving the control of one's
own acts. The fact that the problems we are interested
in are problems of conduct in human relations does not
reheve us of the necessity of studying these relations
and our own acts. There is a widespread fear lest this
direct approach to problems of behavior result in some
kind of moral weakness or abnormahty. Whether of
76 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
not it does so depends upon the motives that are
encouraged.
As this problem is discussed more fully in the chapters
on " Motives " and " Character," we can leave it at
this point. Meanwhile, let us not forget that children
want to do the right thing and welcome the slogan or
rule or proverb that will help them at the right moment
to keep their impulses under control.
Children vary tremendously in their ability to control
their acts by ideas of their consequences, or by rules or
principles. An impulsive child may be far better-
natured than a thoughtful child, and yet the thoughtful
child may overcome a selfish desire sooner than the
better-natured child, because he is so constructed that
he can stop and weigh the consequences before he acts.
Some children can respond to abstract principles more
easily than their elders, and others, of a lower level of
intelligence, never reach the point where an ideal or
principle is really understood or effective as an organizer
of conduct. The wise teacher must study each child
and help him to reach a constantly higher and higher
level of self-control, as his abihty to analyze and general-
ize increases.
The Christian life of these children will be, therefore,
living childhood's own life on its highest level. The
Christian child will first play fairly, for play is his
chief occupation. He will participate with others in the
family of God in the Christian enterprise, in its several
aspects, including worship and friendship, relief, and
social reconstruction, according to his ability. He will
five his own fife abundantly because he is achieving a
measure of freedom from impulsive caprice, and a fund
of purposes which direct his hfe into the channels of
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 77
social cooperation where the permanent satisfactions of
life are found.
The Purpose of Christian Education for Early
Childhood. Let us now formulate briefly the aims
of rehgious education for children in the early years
of childhood.
1. To assist the children to adjust themselves to their new social
relations — in the street, in school, etc. — in a Christian way — that
is, in the consciousness that all these persons with whom they come
in touch are children in God's family. The simple forms of Christian
friendship are already familiar to them from their experience in the
Beginners' class. But we cannot assume that the friendly deed at
home will be duphcated at school. These new problems of adjust-
ment must be consciously attacked, so that with the expanding
social contacts there will be a like expansion of friendly deeds and
attitudes.
If the children's own natural relations are not expanding, then it
is a part of our purpose also to assist them into larger social spheres,
so as to secure in experience the basis of growth in Christian ways of
life. As rapidly as possible the child's consciousness of his own
hiunanity, of his brotherhood with all sorts and conditions of chil-
dren and men and women, must be established.
But we do not wish to limit the Christian principle of life to per-
sonal friendships. It is important also that the children should
participate in the larger phases of the Christian program, such as are
represented in the reUef of distress wherever found, and in the en-
deavor to make social machinery conform to the Christian ideal of
love and justice. There is little of this that is within the reach of
the Uttle fellows, but the lack of food in India, or China, or Belgium
is quite well understood by them, and the fact that some children
have to go to work and have no time to play or to go to school is
something they can readily appreciate. In the removal of these
conditions they should therefore have a share. And to help buy
milk for children whose mothers cannot afford it — this is a real bit
of Christian service. And so our second purpose is:
2. To secure cooperation in the Christian program for the world.
But we do not want mere automatism. All these good deeds
might be present and yet the spirit and purpose of the thing be
78 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
lacking. Imitation may be the first introduction to kindness or
helpfulness, but, as mere imitation, the deed lacks religious signifi-
cance. In the third place therefore our purpose is:
3. To assist the children to develop and organize ideals of conduct
in terms of Christian etiquette and concrete examples of Christian
conduct which are known as Christian. And finally,
4. To assist the children to realize vividly the family of God, and their
own relation to it.
Principles of Method. The particular methods and
material for this work cannot be discussed here, but
certain general principles underlie our work, and these
can be profitably stated at this point.
1. In the first place, any church-school class should be primarily
a cooperating group. It should have some kind of common life.
The children should be doing together the things which children like
to do together. Sharing in a common pleasure, and sharing gener-
ously and fairly — this, as far as it goes, is exactly what we desire for
children. And in this group life there will be opportunity for the
practise of Christian etiquette under conditions of control by the
teacher. She will see to it that social situations arise in which
the problems of adjustment, of courtesy, thoughtfulness, etc., can
be squarely faced and be worked out deliberately. There will be
the need of reflection here, and of stories which reveal the desirabil-
ity of certain ways of behavior.
2. The home life should offer a similar environment for the child.
Here, too, the basis of the group life should be cooperation. With
children of six, seven and eight this is difficult to manage, as the
direction of their contribution to the family welfare frequently
takes more time than the doing of the task would take. But when
we come to the point where the family will be recognized as funda-
mentally an educational institution, these additional responsibiUties
on the part of the parents will not seem so unreasonable as they do
now.
One of the ways in which children can cooperate in the family life
is by having specific duties to perform. The five-year-old can see
that waste baskets are emptied daily. The six-year-old can keep
the floor of the hall closet in order. The seven-year-old can help
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 79
with dishes and dusting. The eight-year-old can make his or her >.
bed, keep the rest of the hall closet in order, etc. All can take care
of their own toys and help keep the rooms neat. All should have a
share in the great family decisions. One family I know would not
think of buying a piece of furniture without holding a family council -»
in which every child takes part. The chair or table that is pur-
chased becomes our chair or table in a new sense. More and more,
wise parents are making definite budgets, providing definite al-v
lowances for the children and for themselves. The children keep
accounts, purchase what they can pass judgment upon, save for
desired gifts or toys or tools, contribute through the family purse
or through the school or church treasury to social betterment as far
as they can understand the nature or at least the purpose of the
causes.
3. They should thus be led to participate together in activities _
that take them outside of their own group. Things are going on
in the school and in the world in which they should have a part.
Making picture cards for sick children, sending pictures and toys .
to natives of other lands, contributing to causes in which the school
is interested, taking part with other Christians in supporting relief
work — these are illustrations of forms of organized service in which
the children should be engaged. Here again, the teacher will have
to help by providing much of the material for this cooperation in
the way of stories of work done by other children, stories of children
of other lands, stories which stir the desire to help, or which increase
admiration for others, or which portray in concrete form the way
Christians do things in the world.
These stories will probably be organized in some way, and so we
provide
4. A course of study, or a selection of human experiences that
are needed by these children to help them organize their deeds and
their ideas and their attitudes. These stories will provide op-
portunities for the exercise of moral judgment, distinguishing be-
tween different kinds of deeds and their various consequences.
They will help the children to see their own experience in the deeds
of others and will make attractive to them certain ways of behavior -
which otherwise would not be emphasized or promoted. And this
aspect of the work naturally includes the formulation and the learn-
ing of practical slogans for the guidance of conduct and of practical
80 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
standards for the judgment of acts. The Bible affords many-
examples of excellent slogans, such as '' He that ruleth his spirit is
greater than he that taketh a city," or the " Golden Rule."
5. In connection with the mastery of this subject matter, there
will be appropriate instructional activities to assist the memorizing
of verses, or the clarifying of ideas, or the practise of the particular
form of cooperation described. Picture pasting if properly done
has a place in the program. Drawing, dramatizing the story, singing,
reciting, visiting other classes to tell about the class work, discussion,
and so on, are themselves a basis for group cooperation, and also
effective means for increasing the intellectual grip upon the problem
at hand.
6. Finally, there is cooperation in worship. This necessitates
training in the use and understanding of the forms and materials of
worship which are used. It is exceedingly important that in this
significant Christian enterprise the children feel that they are doing
something that all Christians do. If the only worship they share is
their own, their notion of worship will be provincial and defective.
Indeed they cannot worship as members of God's family apart from
other members of his family. They learn by taking part with those
who know how, just as they learn how to use tools. It is part of
our work therefore to have available for these children services
of worship with older children and with adults so that they can
regularly participate.
But they need also the more intimate and free fellowship that is
possible in class worship, and in family worship and the bedside
prayer. Naturalness in our conversation with God is important
if God is to be a factor in the control of conduct. Reverence for
him, which so many fear we shall lose by our emphasis upon his
approachableness, is gained properly by attention to his character
and purpose, rather than by attention to his physical power or his
enthronement among the stars.
Each class session should include its own worship, its own recogni-
tion of the presence of God and its own constant emphasis on God's
goodness and nearness, and on the reality of a sonship which makes
God depend upon his children for the carrying out of his desire.
LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 81
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. Examine the hymns used by the children in your Primary
Department. Are the words of a character to promote Christian
growth? In what particulars?
2. In what cooperative activities do the children in your (or
some other) school engage, and with whom are they associated in
these common enterprises? Are these enterprises Christian in
character, that is, are they efforts at the increase of love and justice
in any particular sphere or relation?
3. What instinctive tendency is common to Cases 20-22 in
Appendix I? In what respects are Cases 23 and 24 alike?
4. What sorts of conduct characteristic of children between six
and nine do you think should be changed? What sort of conduct
have you observed that is on the Christian level?
CHAPTER VI
LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES
Some Facts and Laws
In our study and observation we have all noticed that
no two children, even twins, are alike. Are there any
laws in accordance with which likenesses and differences
occur? Before proceeding further with our analysis of
children, let us note some facts and formulate some laws
that will be of service in our further observation.
Twins resemble one another more completely and in
more particulars than siblings, or children of the same
parents who are not twins. And siblings are apt to be
more ahke in more ways than children of different fami-
lies. If children were all ahke, our work as teachers and
parents would be relatively easy and uninteresting. The
extraordinary surprises, the endless variety, the obstinate
refusal of any child to come within the text-book defini-
tion, or indeed within the scope of our own experience,
these are what challenge our interest and urge us on to
the discovery of the new law which will include this new
species of conduct, only to find that the very next young-
ster we see thoughtlessly contradicts our rule. And the
differences we find in the same child from day to day,
indeed from moment to moment, are almost as per-
plexing as those we find among different children. " What
is that boy going to do next? " is a question that is never
completely answered until he does it. Then we know
what he was going to do next, and so does he.
82
LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 83
The Laws of Behavior. One of our troubles is that
we are looking for the wrong kind of a law. We are
looking for some kind of statement which will apply
equally well to every single case. We want too much.
We are contented enough with the statement, " wood
burns " ; and yet we know that under some conditions
wood does not burn, for example, when we want to make
a fire in the open on a wet day. The complete state-
ment would include a qualification of the proposition,
such as, " dry wood burns," or, " wood bums when the
temperature rises to a certain degree, the combustion
degree varying with kinds of wood, stages of greenness,
etc." Iron burns, too, if it is hot enough, but we don't
bother our heads much about that fact. We use it as
though it did not burn, because we know that for our
practical purposes, under the conditions we are Ukely
to meet, iron won't be so obstreperous.
A law is useful to the extent that it enables us to predict
what is Hkely to happen under ordinary conditions, even
if it does not enable us to predict what will happen under
every possible condition. If we can go further, and say
that something is or is not Hkely to happen in so many
cases out of every hundred, our law will be still more
useful. If we could know, for example, that seven four-
year-olds in ten are afraid when left alone in the dark,
our prediction would be more reliable for any new case
than if we knew simply that some children are afraid
in the dark. Unfortunately, there are very few traits
of childhood that have been suflB.ciently studied to war-
rant any such accurate statement of probability, and
our generaUzations will have to take the usual form.
What do we know, then, about children in general that
will help us to understand particular children? Are
84 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
there any useful classifications of children or of childish
traits that will enable us to place a child and so to find
out more readily how to treat him? Is there any
" genius " of childhood, any key to its mysteries, any
wand or symbol that can disperse the mists of age that
hide from our view
" . . . boyhood's time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon " ?
The Marks of Childhood
The two aspects of childhood which we are most prone
to forget and yet which it is most necessary for us as
teachers to keep constantly in mind are these — obvious
enough when we stop to think about it : inexperience and
potentiality.
Children Differ from One Another in Experience
partly, of course, because children are not all of the same
age, partly because they live under different conditions,
and partly because they are by nature equipped to be-
have differently and so to gain various experiences. But
the fact remains that experience must grow. It cannot
be gained at one stroke in toto. All children are moving
from a stage of relatively simple experience to a stage of
relatively complex experience. The meanings of things
that depend on having had certain experiences are non-
existent for the child who has not had those experiences.
If a child who had never come into contact with the heat
of a flame were told that the flame would burn him if he
should touch it, he could have no idea what " burned "
means. If he dechned to touch it, it would be out of
regard for the person who told him not to, or because he
feared punishment. It would not be because of any-
thing the fire might do to him, for of that he knows noth-
LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 85
ing. Listen for a few minutes to the questions of a nine-
year-old boy — these are not such puzzlers as those of a
four-year-old, but they are hard enough to answer. We
assume the presence of knowledge in children because we
ourselves have forgotten that we ever lacked it. Only
recently I heard a small boy of nine ask, as he looked at a
stretch of water, *' What makes the waves come in, the
wind? " And he was brought up where waves were a
common sight. What would a poor fellow know about
waves who had never seen or felt any? Few city chil-
dren have ever seen a flock of sheep or even one of the
species. Practically none have ever seen a shepherd of
the East care for his sheep, and none but the natives of
Syria have actually experienced the search for pasturage,
the dangers of the lonely mountains, the evening cor-
raling of the flock. By what magic is the city child,
then, to understand the twenty-third Psalm? This, for
its literalism — and as for its symbolism of the deeper
experiences that come with maturity, of this the child is
fortunately unaware.
Wise indeed is the teacher or parent who can walk
surefooted in the paths of childhood. It is easier far
to gain experience than it is to lose it or to cast it off,
once gained. Indeed, that cannot be done. We can
recall dimly what it was to be a child, but no one really
remembers himself, his original and virgin experiences
with the world of things and people. What he re-
members is his previous memory of these originals, and
with each recollection there are inevitable alterations in
the pictures that creep in because of later experiences.
-■Vividness of recollection does not guarantee accuracy.
*How vividly we recall things which never happened!
Gifted with sympathetic insight, we can imagine the
86 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
child's world, however. But if this imaginary world is
to resemble the reality and not be constructed simply of
beautiful symbolic pictures of sweet innocence, it must
be based on our experience of children. We must
observe, observe, observe! and mull over our observa-
tion, until it is as natural for us to think in terms of
childhood experience as it is for a veteran motorist to
follow the freaks and fancies of a gasoHne engine.
The Second Mark of Childhood is Its Potenti-
ality. This in two senses. On the one hand the child
is not a small specimen of a man or woman. The de-
sires and passions, the ideals and temptations of maturity
are not there. The child is a different sort of person
altogether. But his difference has a pecuUar quaHty
that distinguishes it from the dog's difference from the
mature human being. The child will become the man,
the dog will not. As Professor Coe has so aptly said,
the child is a ^' candidate for personaUty."
Of the way in which the new capacities characteristic
of maturity appear, one by one, as the child grows, more
will be seen later. What we need to remember now is
that the child does not grow up all at once, and that he
does really grow. Time is a wonderful physician for
many ills of body and soul, since, if given time, the
physical and spiritual resources of the individual will
have opportunity to develop.
A youngster of four is rebellious and " naughty,"
braving parental wrath in the delight of disobedience or
of '' wilfulness." One such sat all morning in his chair
rather than eat his oatmeal as his mother requested him
to do. He was experimenting with his environment,
trying to bend it to his own fancy. Appetite, more in-
sistent than fancy, finally demanded its right, and the
LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 87
conflict was at an end. The child ate the oatmeal and
was " himself " once more. A punishment so natural
as to be no longer punishment but simply the normal
working of the mechanism of life — eat or starve —
furnished valuable data for the child's growing con-
sciousness of self to work upon. A few more such ex-
periments and a few more weeks or months will find
him as cooperative a member of the family group as
could be desired. But time is needed for the transition,
time for the growth from within as well as for the changes
wrought by experiences with the outer world.
The changes in mood and behavior that accompany
adolescence are too obvious to dwell upon. The power
of emotion, the social consciousness, the feelings toward
the opposite sex, these are not due simply to more ex-
perience; they are largely due to growth, inner changes,
provided for in the cell structure of the individual, just
as the tree is provided for in the seed.
We must be content to wait for much that we desire
in the way of character until body and mind are ripened
by experience and growth.
Individual Differences
So much for the distinguishing characteristics of child-
hood, inexperience and potentiality. The other quali-
ties that we Uke to associate with the youth of the race —
humility, wonder, faith, loyalty — what are these but
the operation of the child's Hmited powers in a world of
which he has had little experience? Fortunate indeed
it is that the baby is born unequipped and also inex-
perienced. If he came to us with the power of an adult,
but with no experience of the world, or with the capaci-
ties of a baby, yet wise in the ways of the world, what a
88 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
monstrosity he would be! Since he lacks both power and
experience, there is the possibility of an infinite diversity
of combinations of these two variables, with the resulting
infinite diversities of human nature.
The Causes of Variations. There are many causes
at work tending to make a child different from some
children and Hke others. Besides the effects of age or
growth, there are the effects of experience, already
mentioned, including all the environmental forces that
play constantly upon the child — education, accidents,-
health, the effect of ancestry, near and remote, and sex.
The fact that all these causes are at work at any one time
in producing and modifying any given trait makes it
exceedingly difficult to assign to any one cause its due
proportion of effectiveness. Many attempts have been
made, however, to do this, and some conclusions are
being reached. Certain of these are of interest to us as
teachers of religion.
Differences between Boys and Girls. Certain of
these are obvious. We know, for example, that girls
are more interested in dolls than boys are, whereas
boys Hke rough-and-tumble fights more than girls do.
Girls are more sensitive, as a rule, and at the same time
more amenable to control. Boys are stronger at certain
ages, and are outstripped by the girls in size and some-
times in strength also, at other ages. The '' tomboy "
is an exception just as the " sissy "is. It is hard to
discover just what differences between boys and girls
are due to the fact that they are boys and girls, and what
differences are due to differences in training and in the
conventions of modern life. Extensive studies, into
the details of which we need not go, seem to justify
these conclusions :
LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 89
" A child is, for example, by being a girl rather than a
boy, hkely to be more observant of small visual details,
less often color-blind, less interested in things and their
mechanisms, more interested in people and their feel-
ings, less given to pursuing, capturing and maltreating
hving things, and more given to nursing, comforting
and reUeving them. It is no accident that girls learn
to spell more easily, do better relatively in Uterature
than in physics, and have driven men from the profes-
sion of nursing/'^
In any group of girls and boys, or in a class of girls as
compared with a class of boys, the girls will tend to be
more aUke than the boys. One is not apt to find either
such dulness or such brightness among them, and in
almost every other particular the differences among
the boys will be greater than the differences among the
girls. This is of minor importance educationally and
does not particularly affect one's methods of teaching.
It helps to explain some of the puzzling facts of hfe,
however, as, for example, the greater frequency of
genius and of imbecility among men than among
women. There are relatively more men leaders, both
in science and rehgion, than there are women leaders.
But this need not discourage the women, for it does
not follow that girls are therefore as a class inferior to
boys. On the contrary, there are as many traits in
which the general average is higher for girls than for
boys as the reverse. According to a study made by
Karl Pearson,^ boys tend to be more athletic and noisy,
less shy, yet more self-conscious, less conscientious and
more quick tempered. These differences are sUght,
i Thorndike, E. L., Education, p. 68.
» Quoted by Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Vol. Ill, pp. 197-8. Cf. also
pp. 262-3.
90 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
however, and are not so important and far-reaching as
differences in certain elemental instincts, the operation
of which leads to the differences mentioned and to many-
others as well. These are the fighting instinct and the
parental instinct. Both sexes have both, but boys are
better fighters and the girls are better mothers.
Other differences, such as those mentioned in the
following quotation,^ are perhaps chiefly due to the
more fundamental biological differences just named:
" In detail the exact measurements of intellectual
abihties show a sHght superiority of the women in recep-
tivity and memory, and a sHght superiority of the men
in control of movement and in thought about mechanical
situations. . . . They (men) excel in muscular tests,
in abihty to ' spurt,' whereas women do better in en-
durance tests."
Differences Due to Race. Of more interest are
differences among individuals which are due to other
causes than sex. There is a wide divergence of opinion
as to the effect of race on a person's mental make-up
and capacity. Between the lowest and highest races
the gap is clear, but among men of highly developed
races, the differences are not so obvious. " My own
estimate," says Thorndike,^ " is that greater differences
will be found in the case of the so-called * higher '
traits, such as the capacity to associate and to analyze,
thinking with parts or elements and originality, than in
the case of the sensory and sensori-motor traits, but
that there will still be very great overlapping — the
differences in original nature within the same race are,
except in extreme cases, many times as great as the
* Strayer and Norsworthy, How to Teach, p. 153.
*0p. cit., p. 224.
LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 91
differences between races as wholes." The history of
achievement by foreign students in our own colleges
and universities should give pause to any tendency to
regard all who Hve outside of our own land as inferior.
There are more relatively dull persons and fewer rela-
tively brilliant among some races than among others,
but there are plenty of ordinary folks among them all
who are of similar intelUgence and who constitute the
basic material of the world fellowship, which shall be
willing to make use of intellectual leadership wherever
found, and which shall devote itself to the elimination of
the inferior as rapidly as is consistent with common
humanity.
Differences Due to Family. One's own immediate
family stock is of more significance than his racial stock
in determining his place among his fellows. But his
family stock is complex, and, apart from occasional
reversions to an old type, the observable influences seem
to be exerted mostly by parents. The effect of this
influence is not to make children dupUcates of their
parents, but to make them vary from the general human
average in the same direction as their parents do.
It is difficult, if not impossible, to eliminate entirely
other influences than those of family, such as training,
when measuring resemblances and differences, except
in the case of physical characteristics not affected by
training. The composition — the quahty — of the brain
is one of these inborn physical characteristics not affected
by training. A child's destiny, so far as his upper and
lower limits of development are concerned, is fixed by
nature. The point in between this lowest and highest
possibility which the individual reaches is determined
chiefly by training.
92 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
How specific the resemblances to parents are in emo-
tional types, morality, and so on, is not clearly known.
Children of the same parents and the same upbringing
certainly vary tremendously in mental characteristics;
but in any specific trait, it is fair to say that a child is
more Ukely to resemble his own parents and his own
brothers and sisters than some one else's parents or chil-
dren of these other parents. These resembling tendencies,
however, are subject to changes, and, save as limits, do
not determine the individual's growth.
Differences Due to Experience. Training is more
significant in settling a child's future than is his ancestry.
It cannot raise him above his inherited limitations,
however. The dull boy will never overtake the bright
boy, for the bright boy goes faster. As each generation
grows up, those naturally well equipped forge ahead,
and those ill equipped get further and further behind.
The ill equipped make progress, but their progress is
absolute, not relative; and their general status in society,
so far as intellectual attainments are concerned, remains
the same.
To pit one child against another may spur both to
action, but if one is much superior in native ability to
the other, it is cruel to subject the latter to the certain
humiliation of defeat. Better far would it be to pit
him against his own record, and to encourage satisfac-
tion in absolute progress. The feeling of superiority
that results from surpassing the inferior gives the bright
boy a false sense of progress and an insufferable pride
that is exceedingly difficult to overcome.
But any trait can be improved with training. How
much of this improvement is due to sheer growth and
how much to educational influences is not known.
LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 93
Some children of nine are intellectually superior to some
of eighteen. Yet growth is certainly a factor in mental
development. Changes in brain structure take place
which make possible more and more complex associa-
tions. New desires arise which affect the direction of
interest and attention, and, in turn, these new interests
affect achievement. Without the stimulus of the en-
vironment, however, these new interests might never
be called into effect, and certainly the nature of the en-
vironment determines largely the specific forms which
instinctive interests will take, and the specific materials
on which the mind will work.
The particular conventions, the habits and ideas of
social life, which constitute the machinery of morality —
all these are learned. No child is born with habits or
ideas of any sort. All these he gets from his environ-
ment, and these constitute at once his freedom and his
bondage. How far he will transcend these environ-
mental limitations or how completely he will be subject
to them depends largely on his native capacity, and this
in turn is the gift of race and family, plus the unac-
counted-for variation upward or downward that he him-
self exhibits as an altogether new specimen of human
life.
The Necessity of Recognizing Differences. It
is important for us as teachers of reUgion to recognize
both the possibilities and the limitations of our pupils.
We know that all except some of the defectives can be-
come conventionally moral by training — but not with-
out training. We know that most can become, not
only conventionally moral, but independently moral,
acquiring standards and principles of conduct through
their own critical study of human life. This, too, re-
94 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
quires training. And we know that a few will not only
be independent but prophetic, born leaders of men and
architects of the new social order.
Who knows whether such a potential prophet may not
be in his own class? The leaders of tomorrow are now
in training somewhere, and whether or not they will be
leaders in crime or leaders in progress depends upon
what is happening to them now. And the world is
waiting for the issue. It is as teachers of the future
leaders of the church that we have our greatest re-
sponsibility and our greatest opportunity.
Miscellaneous Dififerences. A word should be
said finally about other sorts of differences than those
mentioned above, differences which do not materially
affect one's leadership or one's morality, but which do
affect our method of teaching. These differences con-
cern the form of one's mental life. They are primarily
differences in types of interest. The causes of these
varieties in interest lie back in ancestry, sex and experi-
ence. There is, for example, the practical, common-
sense child, as contrasted with the fanciful dreamer.
These find it hard to understand one another. One is
interested mostly in his own thought process ; the other,
in what is going on around him. Some children enjoy
getting away from concrete things and working with
intellectual symbols. Others prefer to work directly
with objects. Some children are constantly reflecting,
valuing, " sizing up." Others rarely " stop to think,"
but just plunge ahead, reckless of consequences. Some
enjoy the sense of power that comes from managing
people. Others confine their attention to the control of
things. Some are delicate and discriminating in their
appreciation and sympathies. Others are coarse and
LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 95
blunt and hard to move. Some are easily led, amenable
to suggestion. Others are independent.
Frequently these differences and their numerous
combinations are characteristic of the same child at
different times. He has his fancy-free moods and his
common-sense moods; his thoughtful moods and his
reckless moods; his moments of interest in things and
his moments of interest in abstractions; sometimes he
is the philosopher, sometimes the poet, sometimes the
scientist, or the moraHst.
It is helpful to recognize these varying moods or types
of behavior, for they represent in any case a fairly con-
stant set of phenomena. We soon learn what to expect
from the fanciful child or the fanciful mood, and can
anticipate the actions of the practical child or the practi-
cal mood. To name a thing is in part to control it, for
the name affords a basis for the organization of ideas.
As we gather our data, therefore, it might be wise to
record not only the situation and the child's response,
but also the child's dominant type of interest, if known,
or what seems to be his immediate mood, if that is
known, giving the evidence for the judgment expressed.
We shall soon find that as teachers we shall have to
counterbalance these dominant tendencies with the
encouragement of their opposites, if we are to develop
well rounded personalities, sensitive, yet not weak;
aggressive, but not overbearing; leaders, but not bullies;
thoughtful, but not cowardly; courageous, but not reck-
less; rich in fancy, but not unbalanced.
96 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. The stories quoted in Appendix I were written by a girl eight
years old. Read them, and make a note of the dominant interests
that appear in them.
2. Ordinarily children are placed in the same class in the church
school because they are of the same age or in the same grade in day
school. Is this practise wise? Give detailed reasons, and suggest
other possible ways of selecting children who are to be in the same
class.
3. What provision do you make, or have you seen made, in
church-school assignments, for differences among the pupils in
ability or interest?
4. Those who are interested in further study of individual differ-
ences will find any of the following books by E. L. Thorndike of
great help :
Individuality.
Education, Chapter IV.
Educational Psychology, Briefer Course, Part III.
.^Educational Psychology, Volume III.
CHAPTER VII
BOYS AND GIRLS
The Religious Life of Later Childhood
Social Relations. The years from nine to eleven or
twelve are conspicuous for two changes in the lives of the
boys and girls. First, they are physically far more-
vigorous and tough than in early childhood. Second,
they are Uving in a vastly bigger world. Home is less
significant than it was, partly because it absorbs less of
the children's time, and partly because other interests
are growing which lead away from home and compete
with the home influences. Boys go off together, either
playing games or exploring and foraging. Girls, less
adventurous, stay nearer the hearthstone, but never-
theless are much more in the company of other girls and
less under the oversight of adults.
The teachers of children are now largely of their own
age: the children look more to their own group for ap-
proval and disapproval. The codes of cooperation are
becoming fairly well established, and standards of con-
duct are being fixed. Every man is still for himself most
of the time, but spontaneous groups are forming which
make demands upon the individual's loyalty. The gangs
are rather flexible in membership, but they are sufficiently
distinct in the minds of the boys to form the basis of a
large part of their activity. Street gangs fight one
another as groups, not as individuals. Girls belong to
different sets, each scorning the social standards of other
97
98 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
sets. Team-play is attempted, but the teams find it
difficult to play without fighting over individual pref-
erences, and as like as not the team evaporates in the
course of a game or a day or a week. When representing
a larger institution, Uke a school, however, or under
competent leadership, the team, even of ten-year-olds,
tends to last longer, which indicates that the years of
later childhood are exhibiting larger and larger capacity
for group action and group loyalty on an ever widening
scale.
Growth and Instinctive Tendencies. Height and
weight increase gradually. The girls begin to grow
more rapidly before the boys do, so that at the
end of childhood and the beginning of adolescence
the boys seem much younger than girls of the same
age. This no doubt accounts in part for the tendency
of boys and girls to hold one another in apparent
contempt.
Significant instincts like fighting and the parental in-
stinct are increasing in the strength of their impulsion.
The conditions of civilized Hfe put restraints on pug-
nacious behavior which sometimes are irritating to the
small boy. It is not surprising that he breaks out oc-
casionally, either in street fights, or in some form of
bullying or teasing. Rivalry is keen among both boys
and girls. They delight in competition of any kind and
take great pride in their achievements.
Fortunately, however, we have a strong tendency
still present to care for and fondle. Pets are universally
desired — anything alive — snakes, cats, turtles, dogs,
rabbits, canaries. How tender a boy is with his own dog,
and how proud of its abiHty to eat up all the dogs in the
neighborhood!
BOYS AND GIRLS 99
Here is a real incident which brings out certain of these
boyish traits.
" An eleven-year-old boy tested us to the limit by his stubborn
resistance to all control. He was either bad or indifferent most of
the time. Sometimes the teacher held him by main force, while
teaching the lesson, or sent him to the church-school superintendent.
Once she sent him home.
It became unbearable, and in my round of calls I came to this
home. As luck would have it the boy came to the door. His
face beamed as he saw it was a visitor for him, as well as for mother.
He called his mother, grandmother and sister, then sat on the edge
of the chair and listened for four or five minutes, while we talked.
He finally ventured — "I have some rabbits."
" How many? " I asked.
" I had the father and mother, then seven little ones came, but
the Ginnies stole four, one died, and I have two left."
" Oh, may I see them? "
" Do you really want to? "
" Why, yes."
" Well, come on."
So I followed through the kitchen, down the rickety back-stairs
into the yard. There we found the rabbits. I took up the prettiest
baby to fondle it. Henry took up the homeUest one and said, " I
like this one best, it's so homely and cuddles up close to you."
He told me what they ate, how they slept, showed me the dog
and cat, told of two Httle white mice he had had and lost, of his
newspaper route and customers, also how easy it was for him to get
up in the morning.
By this time we were back up-stairs, and the mother began to
tell me how she was not well and that Henry helped her clean the
floor, wash the dishes and even hang up clothes.
He got red, and uncomfortable, as she talked, so got up and said,
" Guess I'll go nowl "
That was the last of Henry as a bad boy in the church school,
for his teacher and I talked it all over and learned to understand.
Every Sunday, however, he came early so as to come up and talk
for a few minutes about the rabbits, etc., especially the new baby,
which became his chief treasure."^
^ Quoted from a student's observation.
100 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Some one has suggested how to get an idea of the ex-
uberant abundance of hfe and energy of the years of
later childhood. Think of how you feel some fine crisp
morning after a good night's rest, awake and ready for
the day's work. Then multiply your feeling of strength
and energy ten times. You are ten times as hungry,
ten times as desirous of shouting and singing, ten times
as good natured, ten times as full of mischief, ten times
as eager for the next act. That is the way a boy feels.
Here is a letter written by a boy of eleven years who
had been sick in bed and still had a cold. It is addressed
to his father. Note his overflowing good spirits.
" Professor, Doctor, Reverand Esq.
Hello! there — alright.
Mother probably told you that I was sick in bed about two weeks
ago — well I'm alright now except a Httle cold that will soon be
gone.
E. H., R. D., R. L., A. W., B. Q., K. L., D. McL., G. W. (each
name was written in full) and myself make up a BASEBALL TEAM
of which I am captain. Spud H. is manager and Gordon assistant
manager. We play the Cypress Street Team tomorrow at 2.30
o'clock. H. M. isUMP,
MR. G . has sent those stories about the slaves he told us
about and mother wants to read to us now.
So solong old sport.
Your left hand man . "
This letter reveals another tendency that it is import-
ant for us to remember. Notice the interest in the indi-
viduals with whom he plays. He mentioned them all
by name. Beginning now at ten or eleven, this interest
in individuals increases through the early years of
adolescence till it reaches its height in the chums of
middle and later adolescence. These chums, many at
first, and becoming fewer, are generally of the same sex.
BOYS AND GIRlia }r ^M'^rMW^.
But the plays and games of boys and girls do not ex-
clude those of the opposite sex by any means. It is not
until the latter part of this period that the problem of
cooperation between the sexes becomes acute.
Technical Skill. Physical and mental activity is
becoming more skilful, and the children take more and
more dehght in proficiency for its own sake. Boys and
girls can make things extraordinarily well. The finer
skills we call technique are possible now and appeal to
them. Except for the feehng that comes with maturity,
the boy or girl of eleven can play the piano with con-
siderable abiUty, and produce paintings or drawings that
continually astonish us for their sense of form. Artistic
and mechanical abilities that had begun to show them-
selves earlier are now rapidly developing. A group of
boys at a summer camp built an observation tower
twenty feet high in fifty minutes, having nothing but
growing trees and tools to work with. A few directions
were given them at the beginning, and then they set to
and produced a mechanically perfect structure from raw
material.
Writing is becoming easy and so can be used as a
ready means of expression. Reading is so easy as to be
a temptation. Stories of an exciting and adventurous
kind are consumed at an alarming rate although, in this
as in all other characteristics, children differ from one
another greatly. But they Hke books and hke to own
them.
Dramatic Interests. In spite of this increasing
interest in and grip upon language, however, they do not
yet find discussion easy, nor is conversation fluent except
in the form of chatter. Yet the dramatic sense is keen
and the representation of stories is a never-ending source
4^? <.*' 'CraLDHOOD AND CHARACTER
of pleasure. With a native genius for dramatic effects
they get up plays, make scenery and costumes, prepare
speeches — and charge admission!
The following outline describes in a boy^s own words a
play that he and three other children, one of them a girl,
prepared and produced at a camp in the woods. The
author was eleven.
THE LAST STAND
By Lynd Ward
Cast of Characters
Little Beaver Buffalo Bill
Showandassee Jim
Scene I
Time: Sunset. Place: Indian Camp.
Showandassee preparing evening meal when Little Beaver comes
home from hunt with deer.
Showandassee (without looking up) — Did you get anything this
time?
Little Beaver — Yes, I got a deer, but it was very hard to get him.
S. — My, he is a big one!
L. B. — Yes, he was the biggest one I could find.
S. — Well, supper is ready; let us eat.
They have supper and then go to bed.
Scene II
Time: Next Morning. Place: Cowboy Camp.
Jim — Say, Bill, do you suppose there are any Indians around
here?
Bill — Oh, I don't know. Let us go and see.
They start off in opposite direction from Indian camp. During
their absence Little Beaver takes some spying in hand, finds out
their strength and position. He then returns to his camp. Cow-
boys return home after fruitless hunt.
BOYS AND GIRLS 103
Scene III
Time: Midnight. Place: Both Camps.
Little Beaver creeping upon Cowboy Camp which is fast asleep.
By some mishap he steps upon a dead twig and they awake. He
dodges behind a large tree that is near at hand. They see no harm,
and so go back to bed. Little Beaver then returns to his camp and
bed.
Scene IV
Time: Next Morning. Place: Cowboy Camp.
The Cowboys are ambushed on their way home from a hunt by
Little Beaver and Showandassee and taken to the Indian Camp and
tied to a young tree.
Scene V
Time: Near Midnight. Place: Indian Camp.
Indians asleep. Cowboys tied loosely. After much quiet
squirming Bill gets loose and unties Jim and together they kill the
Indians.
This play consisted almost entirely of " business."
There was very little speaking. There was no " star."
Several meals were prepared, eaten and cleared away.
Each scene was a unit, however, and the whole play
moved on naturally to a dramatic climax.
The next year, when the author was twelve, he pre-
pared another play of which he was the hero. He had
looked forward to it all winter and had saved up money
to buy his costume, which was an Indian suit. In con-
nection with the play was a long speech by the hero.
This was never written out and so is not preserved. The
players chose a most beautiful spot for this outdoor pro-
duction, with an eye for scenic effects. In the actual
production they had the assistance of a woman who had
had dramatic training, but as far as possible she merely
assisted them in carrying out their own ideas.
104 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
The interest in the dramatic takes another form in
story-writing and poetry. These stories and poems
throw considerable Hght on some of the interests of later
childhood. Turn, for example, to the one printed in
Appendix I.
Individuality and the Critical Frame of Mind.
Individual differences are more conspicuous as time goes
on, but the variations are more obviously in the direction
of the family type. This is no doubt largely due to the
Ufe in the family. But httle traits crop out that assure
us that Jimmy is a chip of the old block. But he has a
mind of his own, however, and is less willing to be a chip.
He wants to be a whole block. He will no longer swal-
low whole everything that is told him. Long experience
with the world has taught him caution and increduHty,
which easily becomes shallow cynicism. Childish fancies
and practises are now to be put away. Unreflecting and
universal doubt is the small boy's armor behind which
he goes forth to combat.
A fine-illustration of this growing independence of
thought and enjoyment in making decisions is seen
almost every year in the sixth or seventh grades of a
certain school. It has been the custom in this school to
help support a local day nursery. The children also
contribute to this philanthropy through their day school,
so that by the time they are eleven or twelve it is an old
story. It usually occurs to some one in these and sub-
sequent grades to object to doing what they have always
done. And then ensues a debate. On one occasion a
committee was appointed to look into the matter. On
this committee was the boy who had objected most to
continuing the contribution. The committee went to
the institution, saw for themselves what was being done
BOYS AND GIRLS 105
there for the babies, and reported so enthusiastically
about the work that the class had to be advised not to
vote all its accumulated resources to this one institution.
The boy who had opposed the idea himself proposed that
the class give all it had. All he needed was to be shown.
In a certain fifth grade, stories from the Old Testament
are used, not in a hteral way, but as good and wholesome
stories. The attention of the children is directed to the
values in the story and to their representation of uni-
versal human relations. When the story of David and
GoHath was told, one boy piped up with, " I do not be-
lieve there ever was a man ten feet tall." After some
argument the class decided that it did not matter
whether Goliath was ten feet tall or not ; anyway, David
was a brave man in the presence of danger.
The Interest in Conduct and in tlie Prowess of
Heroes. One aspect of this critical tendency is the
effort to form standards of conduct, to organize conduct
under acceptable ideals. These acceptable and usable
ideals cannot be too general or absolute. They need to
be in the form of rules or customs or simply the concrete
acts of heroes who have won their admiration. It is
not their qualities but their deeds that appeal to the
responsive and alert minds of these children. Heroic
behavior, prowess, physical and moral, power and skill
in all its manifold forms — these are the deHght of child-
hood. The movie makes its appeal at this point. The
graphic exhibition of power and the intensely dramatic
or " rough-house scenes " swiftly following upon one
another are the very bread of life to an eleven- or twelve-
year-old; and these visualizations of conduct must in-
evitably go far toward forming his standards and sug-
gesting to him his own behavior.
106 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
It would be interesting to know how far movie heroes
are replacing baseball heroes in the minds of the boys.
Competition and Cooperation. We have thought
thus far chiefly of the interests and capacities of the chil-
dren. We should keep constantly in mind the actual
situations in which they find themselves from day to day,
the persons they are with, and the effect upon them of
these relations. An examination of the schedules of
boys and girls will reveal an exceedingly crowded day,
spent mostly in the company of children of the same age.
The characteristic free behavior of children with one
another is a combination of keen competition and cooper-
ation. Both are wholesome. The stimulus of rivalry
is not to be despised. Seeing another do something
automatically makes a boy or girl desire to excel in that
activity. And in thus plunging into the combat and
the chase, the children discover their own capacities and
Umitations. It is hard indeed to convince the small boy
that he is beaten. There is no such word as fail to the
ten-year-old. Failure is an adolescent experience. When
the boy gives in he gives in for poUcy's sake, but his
spirit is not conquered, and when he gets around the
corner he again shouts defiance at his adversary. But
he is learning caution, nevertheless, and knows himself
better both by defeat and by victory.
This indomitable or obstinate or individuahstic
spirit does not mean, however, that there can be no
leaders among boys and girls. The one who proves his
abiHty to get desired results can be the leader, although
he may have to earn the right to lead by his physical
superiority. The latter is by no means always the case,
and the street gang will often follow the weaker but
more intelhgent boy. The man is permitted to lead the
BOYS AND GIRLS 107
" bunch/ ^ not primarily because he is strong, but rather
because he can control the situations which the group
enjoys. He can provide amusements and games. He
can do interesting things that the boys want to do.
He can make possible the hikes and expeditions which
the boys could not undertake alone. He releases the
boys from certain responsibilities, and reduces the amount
of thinking they have to do in order to have a good time.
He is a good provider, and a greatly to be admired
paragon, a miniature god to whom one gives ready
allegiance — up to a certain point.
This delight in leadership merges with the enjoyment
of cooperative activities. Leadership is at its best when
it facilitates cooperation for common ends. The boys
Uke to be together and the girls Hke to be together, and
under certain conditions the boys and girls Uke to be
together. Being with others affords the necessary
condition of the competitive activity which is so much
enjoyed. Cooperation for competition more nearly
characterizes this period of development than its re-
verse, competition in cooperation. But in thus rivaUng
one another's achievements they are securing all un-
consciously the training in cooperation that is essential
for their social development.
The teacher's task Ues in providing suitable occasions
for rivalry, suitable objects for competition, and in so
arranging the conditions of competition that the group
will gradually translate its competitive efforts into
-cooperative efforts.
Group Loyalty. The basis for this transition is in
the incipient group consciousness which identifies one's
own interest with that of the group when another group
appears on the horizon threatening the prestige or prop-
108 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
erty of the first or the safety of the individuals concerned.
Loyalty is born in conflict, in the competition of groups.
But this group competition involves a certain degree of
cooperation, just as in the case of individuals. The
group enjoy their competition only when they agree to
compete. There is no fun fighting when the other
fellow won't fight back. And, furthermore, just as
competing individuals become transformed into co-
operating individuals by the mere appearance of another
set of individuals on the horizon, so a group of competing
groups is transformed into a cooperating whole when all
the groups are confronted with a common enemy or a
common task. It is the teacher's task to secure this
transformation of competing groups into cooperating
groups as rapidly as possible.
Higher Loyalties through Cooperating Groups.
But the interesting thing is that the relation between the
individuals in any one group is not changed when the
group ceases to compete with another and starts to
cooperate with it instead. The presence of the larger
task seems to inhibit the individualistic tendencies and
to encourage the social tendencies. In terms of church-,
school practise this means that all individual competi-
tion for exclusive honors such as badges for attendance
should be transformed into cooperative activity for the
sake of the class group. Class competition is enjoyed
exceedingly. But class competition also should give
way before the higher form of activity involved in co-
operation among classes. The awarding of class ban-
ners for attendance, therefore, although on a higher
social level than the giving of individual badges, is not
on the Christian level, for it involves the recognition
not only of success, but of victory, that is, of another's
BOYS AND GIRLS 109
defeat. If all had banners there would be less fun in
it. The joy of defeating the rest is thus encouraged at
the expense of the cooperative spirit. It should be said
in palliation of this practise that it is far superior to the
rewarding of successes which in the nature of the case
consist in another's loss or humiliation. It is better,
for example, than the social recognition that comes to a
man who has made his wealth by refusing to share equita-
bly with those who have helped him in his work. But
it is not good enough. A higher and equally enjoyable
procedure is to get every class to work for the record of
the school, so that the school may beat its own record
every year. Cooperation for a common purpose is
here the essential motive. To make it thoroughly
Christian it only remains for the pupils to see the rela-
tion between attendance at church school and the prog-
ress of the kingdom of God. If there is none, of course
attendance must naturally be a matter of small moment
to every one!
The Religious Assets of Later Childhood. What
then is the religious Hfe of the boys and girls? What
rehgious problems do they face? How can the church
school and the home assist them to grow reUgiously?
Let us count up the religious assets of later childhood.
There is, first, what we have called the parental instinct.
Covered up though it may be in many children by habits
of a contrary character, it is still there, and even in the
worst bully will occasionally show itself in an attach-
ment for a pet. Here is a real basis in human nature
for much that is characteristically Christian.
Second, there is increasing fondness for a closer form
of social cooperation. The group, as such, rather than
as a mere opportunity for a good time, is beginning to
no CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
enlist budding loyalties that transcend individual in-
terests. Here is the basis in life of true Christian
socialization of will.
Third, there is intellectual alertness, manifesting it-
self in incredulity, in exploration, in reading, in rabid
inquisitiveness, and coupled with an ever increasing
ability to subject action to intellectual control. Stand-
ards of conduct can be increasingly effective and pur-
poses can include wider and wider ranges of conduct and
extend over longer periods of time. Witness, for
example, the case of the boy who planned all winter for
the play he was going to give the following summer.
Here is the basis in mental ability for the increasing
organization of hfe and its purposes in terms of the
Christian standard.
Finally, there is the increasing interest in persons and
their deeds, which reaches its maximum at early adoles-
cence in what is called hero-worship, and in a shghtly
different form, at middle adolescence, in chumming.
The idealization of personality, the setting up of a
picture of what one wants a person to be and identifying
this ideal with the person as he is — here is the basis,
in appreciation, of the peculiarly Christian emphasis
on the ultimate and supreme worth of every indi-
vidual.
Hindrances to Religious Life. Over against these
wonderful religious assets of later childhood we have
to set certain other tendencies of individual and social
life that make our work as teachers of religion
difficult.
There is nothing in the physical and mental make-up
that is really antagonistic to our purposes as Christian
educators except the presence of those natural desires
BOYS AND GIRLS 111
and tendencies which are anti-social in character.
The chief trouble comes from the bad habits already
formed: habits of disrespect and irreverence, habits of
selfish indulgence or of indifference to others* rights;
habits of subterfuge and deception, of indecency in
thought and practise. These are the direct results of
unchristian surroundings. The boys and girls them-
selves are not at fault for being Httle savages when so-
ciety itself provides them with no opportunity for being
anything else. The city gang is the result of social
neglect. The marauding gang is a rare thing in the
country. There is abundant opportunity in the rural
districts for wholesome activity, but what can a bunch
of boys in the city do? In the country there is still
some semblance of normal family hfe, but what can the
family in the city do? How many famihes take their
recreation all together? How many boys would have
a good time doing the kinds of things that are possible
for adults in the city?
But beyond these gaps in the provision which society
makes for normal childhood, there are the vicious in-
fluences, some blatant, some insidious, that surround
the youth on every side. Fortunately much of the
moral laxity of modern Hfe is not within the range of the
boys' and girls* understanding and does them no harm.
But much that is not understood, even, is quietly form-
ing the standards of business and sex relations that will
persist through Hfe. It is these early standards that
are the most permanent. The throes of adolescence
leave the individual on an apparently higher moral level,
largely because of the persistence of early standards,
which were themselves on a high level. Give us the
child until he is eight, say the Roman Catholics, and
112 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
we care not what you do to him afterwards. How much
more is this true if the period can be extended to ten or
twelve!
Having been brought up in an atmosphere of indiffer-
ence to the rights of individuals in school and business
and every-day concerns, of quiet assumption of low
moral standards of relations between the sexes, as exhib-
ited in conversation, on bill boards, and at movies, is it
strange that adolescence frequently finds itself utterly
unable to withstand the sohcitations of evil-mindedness?
Overworked Childhood. Another problem arises
out of the preoccupation of children with affairs not
strictly reHgious. What a busy day the nine-year-olds
have! The typical day affords small opportunity for^
leisure or for play of a spontaneous character, and none
for the preparation of church-school work. City chil-
dren keep up the pace till late at night. They get up
just in time to scramble into clothes, snatch a bite to
eat and race for school. The better-to-do have spare
time taken up with special lessons : music, language and
dancing. The children are too busy to be rehgious, too
much engaged in their own affairs to take part in the
building of the city of God.
The Responsiveness of Later Childhood. But
give them a chance, and their capacity for Christian
conduct is amazing. Their environment is a challenge
as well as a drawback. Here and now they can try out
their powers as Uttle citizens of the Kingdom. By
worship and study and training in Christian coopera-
tion under wise leadership they can arm themselves
fully for the present conflict and against the day of the
greater trials and temptations of adolescence. Speak-
ing out of his own heart, one ten-year-old boy wrote
BOYS AND GIRLS 113
this prayer of aspiration, a true product of childhood
religion :
" O Lord, we do a good many wrongs in a day, but you are kind
and tender, and you forgive us. And we must try to do better, and
we must keep on trying, and we will keep on trying for you are in
us, and helping us all of the time."
The Purpose of Religious Education for Children
Nine to Twelve. As an aid in the discovery of our
method, let us now formulate the purpose of religious
education for boys and girls in the later years of child-
hood.
With adolescence comes increasing capacity and need
for organization of personality. From nine to twelve
this organization can only be approached. But so far
as organization of life in terms of the Christian purpose
is possible, this must be achieved. Fundamental to
the subsequent unifying of personality is the formation
of correct habits of thought and conduct and feeUng
now. Many such habits have already been formed.
There are many left, the need for which arises out of the
far broader fellowship of the boys and girls.
As our first purpose, therefore, let us remind ourselves of the
necessity of actual training in Christian living which has as its object
specific habits of conduct : clean thinking, clean living, the doing of
good turns, generous treatment of others, fair play, regular prayer,
if possible, or at any rate the constant thought of God as companion
in the moral struggle.
And, second, to bolster up these habits, the acquisition of ideals
or rules of conduct which embody the Christian standard, and which
imply the moral leadership of Jesus, in whose conduct the boys and
girls shall find their most appeahng ideal and their most effective
rule of life. As will be seen in our formulation of method, these rules
must of course be the product of the children's own thinking and be
114 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
worked out in imagination and in practise in every possible sort of
situation.
Third, to give body and color to the Christian standard concern-
ing the details of behavior by constantly enlarging and intensifying
the children's consciousness of their world citizenship, of their
kinship with the children of the whole world, of the Christian move-
ment as a mighty cause to which they are, as a matter of course, to
devote their lives.
^ Fourth, to anticipate adolescent changes with suitable information
on matters of sex, associated intimately with all that is sacred and
noble in the child's own imagination and with the hours of highest
fellowship between father and son and mother and daughter.
General Principles of Method. So much for our
purpose. Our method follows the same general princi-
ples already outlined, with adaptations to the special
needs and problems of children from nine to twelve.
1. There is the necessity of providing some kind of organized
group hfe, either in the church-school class, or in the Junior de-
partment, or in clubs, or in all these. The need for cooperating
companionships and the desire for competition should be met in
such a way as to insure the intensive and extensive development
of social motives, so that by twelve or thirteen years of age the child's
interest and loyalty shall be attached to the church of Christ, either
through some organization or by direct membership. We must seek
to Christianize the present social relations of the pupils in class,
school, home, day school, and so on, by interpreting this present life
in terms of Christian standards, and by providing such activities
as will give training in Christian ways of doing things. Class duties,
school duties, home duties, all of which contribute definitely to the
happiness and efficiency of the group, are needed. Organized service
in the community through the care and expenditure of class funds;
visits to homes for crippled children, day nurseries, homes for the
aged, schools for the blind, with a view to adding to the cheer of the
inmates; correspondence with children of other lands, and the mak-
ing of things that will be useful to others; relief work of all sorts,
and many other activities which have social interest are essential
and enjoyed by the boys and girls.
BOYS AND GIRLS 115
2. Training in worship that is proper for them.
"3. The children will need the help that comes from hearing and
reading stories of deeds involving moral struggles and problems
like their own and showing the natural social consequences of right
and wrong choices. Many of the Old Testament stories are admi-
rable for this purpose. The nine-year-old can well appreciate
Abraham's generosity to Lot. The ten-year-old responds to the
stirring appeals of Amos for justice to the poor, and enters into
his clever trap for securing the attention of the crowd at Bethel.
These Old Testament stories have the additional advantage of
providing the background for the appreciation of the life of Jesus,
which is also well adapted to the latter part of this period. But,
suitable as are the Bible stories, much more is needed to give the
pupil the wide social sympathy and understanding that we desire
for him. Stories of inmiigrants and of people of other lands are
a great help, and the children are capable of considerable caref'il
research into the ways of foreign Ufe so well described in periodicals
like Everyland and in many books published by the Missionary
Education Movement. It is important, however, that they should
not be led to suppose that " Missions " is a separate subject of
study or interest in the church school — as though to be friendly with
one's neighbors were a sort of afterthought instead of the very
heart of Christianity.
Whatever story material is used will be of added value if it is
freely dramatized by the pupils. This appUes particularly to the
first two or three years of this period. Old Testament stories
lend themselves to spontaneous representation, and the pupils
enjoy taking parts and reproducing freely the meaning and the words
of the characters. The words will be few, but the expectation of
taking a part adds interest to the preparation of the lesson and in-
creases the vividness of the children's imagery. Pictures also greatly
help in getting the children into the atmosphere of ancient Israel
or of modern China.
Prepared dramas, unless written by the children, take too much
time as a rule to justify their inclusion in our program. But it is a
fine piece of training for a group of children to get up a short BibUcal
or " Missionary " play themselves, studying and making costimies
and scenery, writing the lines, and so on.
All these matters are a part of our effort to make vivid sections
116 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
of human experience which will help the children understand and
improve their own experience.
4. The children need also formulated ideals or rules of conduct
in the form of texts, poems, verses, psalms, hymns, which express
Christian standards and appreciations. They learn these readily
and enjoy using them in concert.
5. They need, in addition to what has been described above,
some specific information concerning some of the great social in-
stitutions, such as the church, and of certain church practises,
such as baptism, the Lord's Supper, the church year, the services.
Here is a splendid chance for the pastor to come into close touch
with every young member of his parish.
6. Various instructional activities are possible now that would be
too difficult for the younger children: writing answers to questions,
writing short essays, making charts of attendance, decorating, mak-
ing a class book, and the like. Discussion is now more profitable,
and story-telUng by the pupils as well as the dramatizing mentioned
above are more effective.
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. It is customary to separate boys and girls between the ages of
nine and twelve in the church school. What differences between
boys and girls have you noticed that would make desirable or re-
quire this practise?
2. What is there about the youngest Junior children that justifies
or requires or makes desirable their separation from Primary chil-
dren? Should they be separated for all purposes?
3. If you can do so, ask several children ten or eleven years old
to state what kinds of motion pictures they prefer, and who their
favorite actors and actresses are. The following form might be used
to record the answers:
1. Your name.
2. Your age.
3. What kind of a picture do you like best?
4. What actor or actress do you like best?
5. Which one do you like second best?
6. What well known picture do you like best?
BOYS AND GIRLS 117
After looking over the results of this investigation, define some of
the problems of religious education for children of this age.
4. Have schedules similar to Appendix III, Chart C, filled out by
a group of children from nine to twelve years of age. Summarize
the results as was suggested for the younger children.
5. Cases 25 to 30 belong to the period studied in this chapter.
They may suggest similar instances from your observation.
CHAPTER VIII
THE TRANSITION
From Childhood to Youth
Some General Facts. The charts given below
reveal astonishing facts that may challenge the credulity
of some of the readers who examine them. Doubtless,
however, they would be matched by charts of almost any
1765 r^
1214
425 / \
8 /o iZ /!/ /C iS iO io-*-
Figure 1
church-school's enrolment. The charts on crime and
conduct can be checked by making others on the basis
of the police statistics and school conduct marks in one's
own town or city.
The first chart is taken from a table in G. Stanley
Hall's Adolescence, Vol. I, page 326. It shows graphic-
ally the number of sentences imposed on 7475 boys from
118
THE TRANSITION
119
eight to twenty years old. The figures at the left in-
dicate the number of cases, and the figures at the bottom
the ages of the boys.
On page 346 of the same volume, Hall gives a chart
showing the school marks for conduct of 3012 Italian
Age^' II II /3 i4 IS Ik n t%
It
Jo
41
u
U
6o
Si
Figxire 2
boys, from eleven to eighteen years old. " Conduct was
marked as good, bad and indifferent, according to the
teacher's estimate, and was good at (age) eighteen in 74
per cent of the cases ; at eleven in 70 per cent ; at seven-
teen in 69 per cent; and at fourteen in only 58 per cent."
Figures 3, 4 and 5 are taken from Coe's The Spiritual
Life. The first one shows the age distribution of the
rehgious awakenings of 99 men. It reads thus: Eight
per cent of the men report a religious awakening at
eleven years ; nineteen per cent report a religious awak-
ening at twelve years; twenty-two per cent at thirteen
years; only nine per cent at fourteen years, etc.
120
CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Figure 4 shows the age of the decisive religious awak-
ening of 84 of these 99 men. The curve is more irregular,
but the high and low points are at about the same ages.
It reads the same as figure 3.
In Figure 5 the same interesting facts appear. This
shows the age given by 272 ministers as the age of their
own conversion. It is remarkably like the last curve.
These curves represent what is going on in the young
THE TRANSITION
121
people. Let us compare these facts with the influences
being brought to bear on them. Figures 6 and 7 show
the curve of ehmination in two city schools.^ The
ages are at the bottom. The number of pupils is at the
left. The curve represents the number of pupils of
each age enrolled in the schools.
Not less significant are the facts of church-school
enrolment. In a survey, not in print, made by the
students of the Y. M. C. A. Training School at Spring-
field, Mass., the following facts are brought out con-
cerning the enrolment and attendance of boys in
'The figures for these graphs are found in Strayer, Age and Grade Censua of
Schools and ColUgw. U. S. Bureau of Education Bulletin 451.
CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Elimination curve for Somerville, Mass.
g J ,o tl /«. tA lU IS- t^ *7 'f tf X.O
Figure 7
Elimination curve for Philadelphia, Penn.
THE TRANSITION
123
thirty-four Springfield church schools.^ Figure 8 shows
the enrolment in actual numbers. The enrolment in-
creases to thirteen years, at which point it is the highest.
That is, there are more boys of thirteen enrolled in the
o
7 /« // /2. /5 lU ,s- tL // It /f 2o
Figure 8. — Enrolment
Springfield schools than of any other age. But see what
happens next!
Figure 9 gives the percentage of attendance for a short
period. Ages ten and twelve are the high points here
and then there is a steady decHne in the attendance of
the boys as well as in the number on the roll.
» These two sets of facts were compiled by O. C. Fowler.
124
So .
20.
.
CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Figure 9. — Attendance
»^ i<t 20 ZOf
Some Particular Facts. From this bird^s-eye view
let us turn to some individual young people, just to see
what they are like. Here is a thirteen-year-old girl:
"1. Physical: Very slender but growing taller; very little
strength. One night she challenged me to a race of about fifty
yards. She gave up and stopped before it was half over.
" 2. New interest in self: Very dressy, wearing large ribbon or
fancy tulle bows on her hair and very large white furs. She often
fusses with her clothes during class and delights in ' counting off '
the buttons on her own or some other girl's dress.
"3. Social instincts: She says she has a girl chum and likes her
'because she is handsome and kind.' She is sensitive to all the
life around her— so much so that it is extremely difiicult to interest
her in anything else. She is full of Ufe and independent. With
THE TRANSITION 125
girls who are timid she is inclined to be overbearing. Altruism:
She always wants to do things to help, but when the time comes she
lets Uttle things hinder her. For instance, although she had of her
own accord promised to help with the Christmas dinner that our
class was to take to a poor family, she failed to come to help. One
day she went with a friend to see a bUnd woman and girl and read
to them. She was very enthusiastic when she gave her account of it.
" Interest in the other sex: She is very fond of boys. She talks
about them a great deal to the other girls and always looks at them
very admiringly and comments on them when they go to the plat-
form with their birthday offerings. Once when a certain night was
mentioned as a possible one for a social she said, ' I can't come.
That's beau night.' Her attitude with boys is partially shown in
the following incident: Once when we were at a social meeting of
the class she said, * I know a grand game. Let's play it. We
played it with a crowd of boys and girls and it was the most fun I
ever had.' It turned out to be a game full of harmful possibilities,
a kissing game in which the kissing is done when the two are in a
room alone. This girl seemed absolutely unconscious of any idea
that it was not a proper game.
" 4. Control by ideals: Once on going by the home of another
girl, she said, * What an old dump you Uve inl ' I was told of this
by the girl's mother. The next social meeting was to be in the
home of this poor girl. To my great reUef the girl about whom I
am writing acted in a very ladyUke way during the whole evening,
showing that she had some good ideals of how to receive hospitaUty.
There was an old grandfather in the home to whom she was very
sweet and attentive. She often hummed or whispered during prayer
at Sunday school, and didn't always assume an attitude of kindness
or attention to the speaker on the platform. She wants to bring
rag-time music to all of the social meetings.
" 5. Religious: She is a member of the church, but as can be
gathered from the above she is not yet consciously accepting the
ideals of Christ as her own ideals. Her home and other environ-
ment evidently pull strongly the other way." ^
Some boys fourteen and fifteen years of age were
asked to write down their idea of an ideal classmate, to
1 From a student's observations.
126 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
indicate which of their classmates represented this ideal,
and to give incidents showing what they meant. Here is
one such statement.
" I think John is an ideal classmate. By an ideal classmate I
mean that he is a sensible, well behaving young chap. He is fond
of athletics and is full of fun and jokes. He likes to take long walks
around the corridors and talk about interesting things. When he
gets in trouble or a scrape he does not try to wiggle out of it but takes
his medicine as well as the rest. One of his best traits is that he is not
selfish and if any one does him a good turn he gladly does it back at
another time.
" That he is an ideal classmate is shown by the following instances.
He has often done me a favor in study-halls by asking the teacher
questions for me. He also loaned me his science book so I could get
mine copied up and handed in in time."
Certain other typical interests are suggested by the
following quotations from a boy's diary.
Age 13j. Went to school. After school I went skating on the
pond, but it was not good. I went over to the playground. Helen,
Jim, Rea, Dora, Alice, and some others were there. After supper
I went over to Mrs. H's. She had invited all the boys in our room
to come. We had a peach of a time. Had phonograph and games,
riddles, refreshments. All the boys but George were there. Had
fine time. Got home at 10.30 p.m.
Age IQ. This morning went to H. in the car. Went up to
Henry's and left my overcoat. Then went up to Benny's. Saw
him. Then went up to Harriet's. Had fine time. Came down
and had some soda with Benny. Went up to Harriet's. Had din-
ner there. Had an elegant time. Best I ever had about. She
gave me her picture. It is just elegant. I invited her to come out
Saturday. She is coming. Went over to Jim's and to Mr. C's,
the Principal of the high school. He was out. Came up on Oak
Street, went over to fair grounds, and played baseball with Jack,
Henry, Jim, and Mat and some others. My side beat 4-3. I
pitched. Came home on 5.45 car. Got to N. 6.15 p.m. Went up
to house. Today has been one of the happiest days I have had for a
good while. Next Saturday I expect a good time also.
THE TRANSITION 127
The Growth of Sex Consciousness. These few
instances will call to our minds many other similar ones
in our own experience or in what we have seen in young
people.
Very obviously, these children are very different from
those nine to twelve years old. They are beginning to
shoot up. Their feet and hands are getting too big.
They are awkward in body and mind. They are forever
getting in their own and other people's way. Heretofore
they have fitted into the scheme of things as they are.
They no longer fit. They bring a new factor, namely,
themselves, into the scheme, and we have to readjust
ourselves in recognition of the fact that they are.
During the preceding years, we have been obliged to
set off the boys from the girls in our consciousness, but
it was boys and girls we were distinguishing, and the
sex differences of manhood and womanhood were not
apparent. But now sex is a factor to be reckoned with.
We are dealing with young men and young women in
whom physiological changes are taking place by which
they are to win title to membership in the community of
full grown males and females.
These physiological changes are sources of interest and
anxiety and temptation. They frequently are not un-
derstood and frequently are misrepresented by the talk
of the street. Boys suffer most from vicious suggestion,
and the deadly stimulus of half truths impelling with
extraordinary insistence to the discovery of the whole
truth by hook or crook. Girls suffer more from sheer,
ignorance, lacking the intensity of interest of the boys.
But there is also with them the danger of misled curiosity
and of over-stimulation of interest.
We might as well recognize these facts at the beginning,
128 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
and by frankly facing them ourselves, help to dispel the
unholy and prurient silence, not to say embarrassment,
that curses our every effort toward a wholesome recog-
nition of the facts of sex.
The greatest need for information is just before
puberty. If we can develop the right attitudes toward
the opposite sex, attitudes of chivalry and cooperation,
secure habits of cleanhness in thought and speech and
act, explain the characteristic phenomena accompanying
the maturing of the reproductive organs, which the boy
or the girl must expect, surround the whole with an
atmosphere of matter-of-fact every-dayness, answering
accurately every question, replacing the modern taboo
with a practical idealism which faces facts unafraid, we
shall have adequately prepared the way for the ripening
of the consciousness of sex. It will be easy then to an-
swer the new questions that arise, and to cultivate a
manly and womanly expectation of family Ufe. In-
formation concerning the opposite sex will be demanded,
if the relations between child and parent are already on
a confidential basis. No more should be given than is
asked for, and such as is given should allay, not arouse,
curiosity.
The regimen of wholesome sex life during these years
depends on these factors:
1. Personal hygiene, including every precaution against irrita-
tion of any kind, whether from too little exercise, too rich food, hot
rooms, or too little bathing. The physical tone must be kept up
and excess energy must be worked off in outdoor exercise.
2. Frequent association with the opposite sex in groups, on the
same plane as the association of brothers and sisters as equals in the
same family, so that the attitudes of wholesome democratic family
relationships will characterize the attitudes of boys and girls of
different families toward one another. A practical brotherhood
THE TRANSITION 129
and sisterhood is the greatest defense there is against abnormal
stimulation of sex interests.
3. Information concerning one's own sex life, increasing gradually
to cover the essential facts of reproduction, based on information
familiar since childhood, and imparted by the parents, and concern-
ing the individual and social consequences of illicit intercourse in
contrast with the Christian ideal of a sacrificial family life.
4. An abundance of intellectual interest.
5. Consecration to the Christian ideal for the world.
Just to bring concretely before us the untutored atti-
tudes of man toward woman and of woman toward man,
I shall quote the following primitive accounts. The
first is an extract from a story in Sanskrit.^ It repre-
sents what man thinks about woman when his thoughts
are unaffected by any sort of appreciation of her human-
ity.
" In the beginning, when Twashtri came to the creation of woman
he found that he had exhausted his materials in the making of man,
and that no solid elements were left. In this dilemma, after pro-
found meditation, he did as follows. He took the rotundity of the
moon, and the curves of creepers, and the clinging of tendrils, and
the trembling of grass, and the slenderness of the reed, and the bloom
of flowers, and the lightness of leaves, and the timidity of the hare,
and the vanity of the peacock, and the clustering of rows of bees,
and the joyous gaiety of sunbeams, and the weeping of clouds, and
the fickleness of the winds, and the softness of the parrot's bosom, and
the hardness of adamant, and the sweetness of honey, and the cruelty
of the tiger, and the warm glow of fire, and the coldness of snow, and
the chattering of jays, and the cooing of the kokila, and the hypocrisy
of the crane, and the fideUty of the chakrawaka, and compounding
all these together, he made woman and gave her to man. But after
one week, man came to him and said: Lord, this creature that you
have given me makes my life miserable. She chatters incessantly
and teases me beyond endurance, never leaving me alone; and she
requires incessant affection, and takes all my time up, and cries
* Quoted by Thomas, W. I,, in (Source Book for Social Origin*, University of
Chicago Press.
130 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
about nothing, and is always idle; and so I have come to give her
back again, as I cannot live with her. So Twashtri said: Very well.
And he took her back. Then, after another week, man came back
to him and said: Lord, I find that my hfe is very lonely, since I
gave you back that creature. I remember how she used to dance
and sing to me, and look at me out of the comer of her eye, and
play with me and cling to me; and her laughter was music, and she
was beautiful to look at, and soft to touch; so give her back again.
Then after only three days, man came back to him again and said:
Lord, I know not how it is; but after all I have come to the conclu-
sion that she is more of a trouble than a pleasure to me; so please
take her back again. But Twashtri said: Out on you! Be off!
I will have no more of this. You must manage how you can.
Then man said: But I cannot Uve with her. And Twashtri repHed:
Neither could you live without her. And he turned his back on
man, and went on with his work. Then man said: What is to be
done? For I cannot hve either with her or without her."
The second is from the journal of a girl of fifteen. It
represents a perfectly natural attitude which is inhibited
in some girls, and is even more outspoken in others, but
which, in greater or less degree, is present in all.
" Jan. 3. Just think of it, Jim says he is going to claim me ten
years from tonight, but he will forget all about it by that time. . . .
Jan. 7. Jim was up this evening and that is the only thing that has
happened of any importance. . . . Jan. 8. Jim left right away
after dinner because he had promised to take Miss A. out riding. . . .
Went to C. E. and church. Jim had Miss A. to church but I don't
care. Jan. 9. The weather has been too disagreeable for anything
today and I guess I have too, at least L. said I had. I haven't
seen Jim all day, guess he went to see Miss A. this evening. (I
think he must be getting pretty badly stuck on her.) Jan. 10 . . .
As Jim did not put in his appearance here I suppose he must have gone
up to Miss A.'s (dear me, but I wish she would go). Jan. 11. I
didn't go to school today and this afternoon I went up to Helen's
and then Helen, Alice, Florence and myself went sleigh-riding with
Jack. Jim came up this evening but I went off with the girls to the
C. E. social in the music rooms and left Mamma to entertain him
which I think she done with success, but at the social George, Jack
THE TRANSITION 131
and Max acted like perfect fools, that is the only word that will
express how they acted. Jan. 12. Jack and George have made me so
disgusted with them all day in school, acted very near as bad as they
did last night, but Jim came up this evening so I got over my disgust
for I come to the conclusion that at least one person in the world
could behave themselves and act like a gentleman. Jan. 13. . . .
Haven't seen Jim today, too bad, isn't it? "
Growing Intellectual and Emotional Capacity.
There are many other matters that concern us, however,
besides the changing attitudes toward the opposite sex.
The physiological growth characteristic of these years
is accompanied by an enlarging capacity for abstract
thinking. It is now that most of those who are to grow
up intellectually at all achieve the characteristic mental
activity of normal inteUigence. These early years see
an exaggeration in the direction of interest in generaliza-
tions, in the Universal, the Absolute, in Truth, Beauty
and Goodness, as things forever fixed and supreme. The
new feeling for logical procedure leads to extreme con-
clusions, to rigid ideals and standards, to excessive criti-
cism of self and others.
Along with this growing intellectual capacity comes
an intensification of emotional response. The body
responds more completely to contrasts and shocks which
would leave a child unaffected. The somatic rumblings
and sharp detonations of true emotion are now possible,
nor does it take much of a spark to touch off internal
explosions. This is no doubt partly due to the fact that
inhibitions are more numerous, and the precise behavior
called for by a situation is not so certain as it was in
childhood. And so, not being able to respond ade-
quately to a difficult situation by fighting, or calling
names, or running away, the adolescent is swamped by
132 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
the overflow of dammed-up energy into the inner muscu-
lar and vascular systems. The circulation is thrown
out of gear, digestive organs behave queerly, and various
other things happen which tend to confuse his conscious-
ness.
These new capacities and experiences call for a re-
organization of self; they make the old self conspicuous
in consciousness and they make a new self essential. At
first this new self is sought by a self-assertion that
catches hold of any impulse and sets it up as master in
the house. The old ''I want " of the four-year-old
becomes the " I will " of the fourteen-year-old. He
objects to restraint. He insists on his own independence.
He revolts against authority.
Then comes the time when the seeker for a self becomes
more keenly conscious of other selves of the same and
opposite sex. He tries to be somebody else, perhaps.
He revels in personaUty as in a newly discovered country.
Persons loom large in his consciousness. He forgets him-
self in his absorption into the society of selves, and he
finds himself at last in the larger selfhood of a world
society. Before adolescence he would give and get with
equal enthusiasm. Then when the transition came he
was for a time intent on getting more than on giving.
But this gave way, under encouragement, to the desire
to give, and in this dominant motive, just to give, he
found life.
But these are moods. Unless attached to some ap-
propriate activity they tend to pass away, and a con-
stitutional temperament, deeper than the adolescent
irruptions, becomes the permanent attitude of the in-
dividual.
Thus we have seen the basis of the adolescent hero-
THE TRANSITION 133
worship, the capacity for loyalty and team-play, the
development of the social spirit, the desire for self-dis-
covery and self-expression, the kaleidoscopic change of
interests. It is easy to understand the youth ^s " yeasti-
ness " of mind, as Coe calls it, the welter of inconsistencies
between ideals and conduct, the seething imagination
occupied with self, with persons and personal relations
or standards of personal conduct. What a splendid
opportunity for reHgious education — the longings, the
idealism, the interest in destiny, the capacity for con-
secrated activity in loyalty to the church of Christ, for
new understanding of the worth of the individual human
being, and hence for a new appreciation of God! And
what are we doing about it? Some few get into the
church. But what of the rest? Figures 8 and 9 tell us.
Look at them once more.
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. Make a list of things some high-school boy or girl you know is
interested in.
2. What difiference is there between the ways high-school boys and
girls behave toward one another, and the ways in which grammar-
school boys and girls behave toward one another? Is the interest
of boys in girls and of girls in boys good, or bad, or neither? What
are its social impUcations? What use can be made of it in reHgious
education?
3. At what age should children join the church? On what
psychological facts do you base your conclusion?
4. In terms of the educational process, what is the precise value of
Decision Day? Is there anything about it that deserves to be re-
tained in a thoroughgoing school of reUgion? If so, point out how
its values can be conserved without its deleterious effects.
On the problem of sex education, Maurice A. Bigelow's book,
Sex Education, will be found particularly helpful.
For further reading on Adolescence, consult the BibHography,
Appendix II.
CHAPTER IX
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT
The Physical Basis
" Where have I come from, where did you pick me up? " the baby
asked its mother.
She answered half crying, half laughing, and clasping the baby to
her breast, —
" You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darHng.
" You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with
clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made and unmade
you then.
" You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship
I worshiped you.
" In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my mother
you have lived.
" In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have
been nursed for ages.
" When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered
as a fragrance about it.
" Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful hmbs, like a glow
in the sky before the sunrise.
" Heaven's first darling, twin-bom with the morning Ught, you
have floated down the stream of the world's life, and at last you have
stranded on my heart.
" As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong
to all have become mine.
" For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What
magic has snared the world's treasure in these slender arms of
mine? " ^ — Tagore
The Beginning of Life. For many thousands of
years there has been going on an immense experiment
1 Reprinted by permission of the publishers, The Macmillan Company, from
The Crescent Moon, copyright, 1913, by The Macmillan Co.
134
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 135
in life. Since the first combination of chemical elements
occurred which possessed spontaneity, which responded
actively from within its little exclusive bulk to the
less Uving ooze without, this experiment in Ufe has been
going on. Having gathered to itself a new chemical
reaction, this new combination of elements proceeded
to do what had never been done before, it began to grow
by absorbing something outside of itself into its own
structure. Instead of yielding its structure, its particu-
lar chemical combination, to the forces playing upon it,
as all other combinations had done, it succeeded in be-
coming itself a center of creative force, transforming in-
stead of merely being transformed by the stuff of the world.
Only the great universe had possessed this mysterious
spontaneity, and it could only change its form. The
universe could not grow, and nothing within it could
transform anything else into a means for growing. Only
this new thing could do that, and so it Uved. It be-
came a new creative force, a new center of Ufe within the
physical universe.
That little germ of life did not possess in itself all the
complex structure of vegetable and animal existence
that now covers the earth. All it had was life. But it
started going a process that has been going on ever since.
It is essentially a process of conservation, of holding on,
of resisting forces that tend to disintegrate the particu-
lar chemical combination involved. This thread of
resisting, creating life has never been completely broken.
Every Uving thing, including trees and men, can trace
its life back to the primeval ooze.
With changing habitat, the original structure of the
life-carrier changed, and of the various types evolved,
some resisted outside forces better than others, growing
136 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
faster and breaking up into new centers faster than some
other structures, and so crowding out the less adapted
forms. The existence of the hfe-carriers themselves
constituted a change in the physical environment which
the living organisms had to face. Life met life, and, as
when Greel^ met Greek, something different had to
happen. Here were two resisting, creating centers at
the same job in the same place. They must either
cooperate or fight. Some fought and some cooperated,
and then the cooperating groups had the better of it.
The cooperating groups were not all ahke. Some suc-
ceeded better than others in maintaining themselves.
The Continuation of Life. These successful groups
were the first real individuals. Heretofore life was con-
tinued simply by having the life carriers break up into
two pieces. There was no death. Now the continua-
tion of the structure became a more complicated task.
It still had to be done by breaking up, but the most
successful groups were those that were made of Hfe-
carriers some of which did the breaking up while others
obtained food. This division of labor among the differ-
ent cells composing the new Ufe units became finally so
complete that even the reproducing cells specialized
into two kinds, both of which were necessary for the
process of cell division by which Hfe was continued in
new individuals. When the reproducing cells became
so speciaHzed that they had to do all the reproducing,
they had, of course, to reproduce all the different kinds
of cells needed in the new organism, including the
speciaHzed reproducing cells, which would do the same
thing over again for the new organism. Thus the Hne
of life is not from organism to organism, but from re-
production cells to reproduction cells. It is not the
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT
137
individual that is reproduced, but the stock. Diagramat-
ically the process is as follows :
B
K '
^—
■^
f<
. —
•r'
--
■''
B
B
B
Figure 10
R = Reproductive cells or germ plasm. B = Rest of body or somataplasm
As the single cell from which the new structure grows
begins to divide, these new cells speciaUze on the kind of
tissue to be produced: bones, muscles, digestive organs,
nerve tissue, reproductive organs. It is not the bones
and muscles and digestive organs, etc., which produce
the offspring of the new individual, but the reproductive
cells, or germ plasm, which grew from that group of cells
that speciaUzed in this direction at the very beginning
of the process of cell division mentioned a moment ago.
Providing for Variation. This method of produc-
ing new individuals would not be very successful were
it not for further specialization of reproductive cells
into two kinds, male and female, which brings about the
combination of many Unes of ancestry in each individual,
and so makes possible an infinite number of variations
within the species.
How stocks converge upon the individual is clearly
seen by the accompanying diagram. If the total num-
ber of individuals from which the species is reproduced
remains confined to narrow limits, it will be seen how the
stock will run out for lack of new varieties. The nar-
rower the limits of ancestry, the more completely will
the offspring resemble one another.
The immense intermingUng even of varied stocks in
138
CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
a species results in considerable similarity of offspring,
and maintains a community of interests and abilities,
and, therefore, of understanding, that would not be
possible if each stock were independent of every other.
There is a certain amount of original nature common to
all individuals of the species, no matter what their stock
may be. This original nature represents the result of
Figure 11
Convergence of stocks. D = Male; O =* Female
the conserving process spoken of at the beginning of the
chapter. Each new union of individuals makes possible
a new combination of traits, both in the new individual
and in the reproductive possibilities of the new individual.
Whatever advantage this new combination gives is
conserved in the stock, therefore, and added to the future
possibilities of the species. The result is that each
individual is both new and old. He is hke his stock and
his species, tending to differ from the species as a whole
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 139
just as his immediate ancestry differs from it, and tend-
ing to differ from either Hne of ancestry by the infusion
of traits conspicuous in the other.
The Meaning of Infancy. As traits accumulate
and are conserved and handed on, it naturally follows
that the road from cell to complete individual gets
longer and longer. From a matter of hours and days,
the production of new individuals becomes a matter of
weeks and months and even years. Furthermore, the
longer and more complicated the process, the fewer the
individuals that can be produced by a single parent, and
the more important the individual offspring.
At the same time, a larger and larger part of the
individual offspring's growth takes place in separation
from the mother, in direct touch with the environment.
This means that a new factor is introduced into the
individual's development. Heretofore, the individual
was simply the thing that the particular combination of
ancestral traits made him. Now what he is depends
upon these ancestral traits plus the influence brought
to bear upon the way these traits develop. This in-
fluence, however, does not affect the reproductive cells
from which the new offspring emerge, so the new offspring
have a chance to develop as their particular environ-
ment may later determine. It is clear that the individual
who has the largest number of possibiHties because of
his long and varied ancestry, whose structure is most
comphcated and slowest to develop, will be most influ-
enced by the environment with which he is surrounded
after separation from the parent.
This is the significance of human infancy. It gives
the individual a chance to emerge from the common stock
and be an individual.
140 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Human infancy is extended over many years. Com-
pare the length of time required to make a dog self-
sufficient with the time required to make a child self-
sufficient. Physical maturity is not reached till from
eighteen to twenty-four years. Intellectual maturity
is equally long in developing. Economic infancy varies
from fourteen to thirty, and political maturity is set at
twenty-one. And this extended period of dependence
is made significant also because of the complexity of
the child's structure as compared with the dog's. The
child is not tied down to a few types of action. He is
equipped to behave in a vastly larger variety of ways,
and these various ways of acting can be combined in
an infinite variety of new ways according to the dic-
tates of experience. How few tricks one can teach a
dog! That is all he can learn. But we have not yet
reached the Hmit of man's capacity to learn, that is, to
change his ancestral equipment into something different
from what this ancestry alone could have produced.
Recapitulation. We have been saying that the
stream of Hfe passes down unbroken from one generation
to the next, accumulating new structures that give
advantage to the individuals, and accumulating pos-
sibilities of constantly new types through the combina-
tion of all sorts of old types. Obviously the changing
structures will parallel a change in the physical habitat.
As outside situations change, structures will be conserved
which maintain life in the changing situations. It is
also true that this conserving process passes on into new
environments the structures developed previously and
suited to previous environments. These lingering struc-
tures, unless useful, tend to dwindle away and disappear.
Some of them are hindrances, such as toes to animals
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 141
walking on the ground, and wisdom teeth to animals
that eat cooked food. But the conserving tendency
is strong, and what once functioned in maintaining hfe
is apt to leave vestiges in all new individuals. Each
individual thus, in a rough way, repeats in its develop-
ment the process through which animal Ufe has passed.
Resemblances to early forms of Hfe, such as fish, can be
detected in the human foetus, and of course the same
traits that made primitive man a successful hunter and
warrior appear in children and men and women. They are
present, many of them, in many other species besides man.
It is a mistake, however, to suppose, as some do, that
this repetition of ancestral life in the individual is any-
thing more than a way of growing. The individual
has to grow somehow, and at many points, as would be
expected, his growth parallels that of the race as a whole.
At other points, it obviously does not. It is impossible
to draw any conclusions concerning the way the indi-
vidual grows from a study of the way the race has
developed, and any conclusions concerning race develop-
ment based merely upon a study of individual develop-
ment would be equally unreUable. There is no necessary
organic relation between the two. Comparisons are
simply analogies, not laws. To hold, therefore, that the
individual must necessarily be a fish, a monkey and a
savage before he can be a human being of the twentieth
century is absurd mythology. He has to be a child
before he can be a man, but he is a man-child, not a
frog-child. And the only way to find out how he grows
from a child into a man is to watch him grow.
What is Inherited. What is it that is passed on
from generation to generation, which forms the raw
material that meets the environment and is changed by
142 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
it into human as distinct from animal nature? Briefly
it is this: Structures or organs, and organic functions.
The various organs are so built as to possess definite
functions within the organism. The organism as a whole
has definite functions in relation to its own and other
species, and so with reference to life as a whole. In
complex animals these functions are performed by means
of specialized organs which are all organized together
into a system which acts in an organized way. This
organized action is made possible by a central nervous
system, a set of organs (senses) which receive and trans-
mit stimuH from without and from within the organism
to the central system, and a set of organs (muscles)
which move the whole body or parts of it so as to do the
thing in the situation which we have described as the
function of the organism as a whole. That from which
stimuli come to the sense organs is called the situation,
and what the organism as a whole does is called the
response. The particular neural connections in the
central system which determine that this or that response
shall be made in any situation are many of them in-
herited. When the connection is unalterable, when the
response is invariably the same and is not controlled
at will, the response is called a reflex. Sneezing, wink-
ing at an approaching object, are examples. When the
connection is inherited, but is not so clear-cut or un-
alterable, it is called an instinct. Defending oneself
or others from attack, running away, and eating are
examples. Still more general tendencies to behavior,
representing complex connections or at least possibilities
of connections in the central system, are called capacities,
such as the capacity to paint pictures or to learn new
ways of doing things.
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 143
These responses are the slow accumulation of the
adjustments achieved by our ancestors. It is entirely-
conceivable that we could make a complete list of e very-
possible original response to every situation. Such a
task is complicated by the fact that inherited responses
are so soon modified. The unmodified responses would
constitute the original nature or raw material out of
which the complex unity of individual life is built. The
unmodified connections and tendencies and capacities
are all that '' nature ^^ provides. The rest is the product
of experience in a world of things and men.
It is important that those who are to control the child's
education should know what the original equipment of
the children is and how it is changed into the equipment
needed for modern life. The process of learning, or of
changing original tendencies, will be the problem of the
next chapter. The remainder of this discussion will be
devoted to calling attention to some of the more impor-
tant ways of behavior which we can count upon as present
in all children.
Original Tendencies. The most complete analysis
that has been made of this inherited equipment is found
in E. L. Thorndike's Original Nature of Man} What
follows depends upon his researches.
A brief list will put us in touch with the sort of re-
sponses a child makes in more or less complete form
without being taught. First there are the large body
movements, placing the body in position or moving it
from one place to another: sitting up, lying down,
standing, walking, running. Then there are movements
of the body itself such as kicking, scratching, breathing,
laughing, crying, making noises, reaching; and when
> Educational Psychology. Vol. 1.
144 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
objects are grasped, they are pounded, shaken, shoved,
and explored with eyes and fingers, or put in the mouth,
or eaten, or concealed, or collected with other Kke
objects. Moving the body and parts of the body comes
as the response to certain situations in which the in-
dividual is placed, and such movements are made in
complex combinations which can best be described as
food getting, which includes hunting or chasing, capturing,
tearing, eating; shelter getting, which includes running
to cover, hiding, crouching, lying still, burrowing,
building; defense, which includes attacking, running
away, warding off missiles, and a host of responses
usually called fighting or fear; and sex behavior, which
is not prominent before adolescence.
In addition there are other responses included under
such general heads as play, a complicated response, dis-
cussed in another chapter ; a set of responses to persons,
called social responses, such as following the crowd,
rivalry, imitation; and certain general tendencies, such
as the tendency to change the original responses and to
develop skill not present in original nature, the tendency
to pick a situation to pieces, and to respond to certain
aspects of it; the tendency to get sensations and to be
satisfied with mental control of sensations (frequently
called curiosity, constructiveness and destructiveness,
but probably not thus distinguished in original nature) ;
the tendency to be satisfied when an instinctive response
is successful and annoyed when it is not, or to be satisfied
by certain sensations or conditions and annoyed by
others.
Satisfiers and Annoyers. These satisfiers and an-
noyers are so important as guides of actions and as
sources of desires and values that we shall have to look
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 145
more closely at them. In general it may be said that
any act which brings satisfaction tends to be repeated,
and any act which is annoying tends to be discontinued,
or avoided. It is satisfying to do what the organism is
ready to do, and it is annoying to be kept from doing
what the organism is ready to do or to be forced to do
what the organism is not ready to do. For a dog to be
kept chained when he wants to chase a cat is annoying,
and he won't let himself be chained if he can help it.
But to chase a cat is a great satisfaction — unless he
gets scratched, in which case he may be less precipitate.
Since satisfying and annoying consequences are so
influential in the formation of habits or permanent
tendencies, it is important to know what sort of things
independently satisfy and annoy. Thorndike names
the following: pain, " bitter tastes, the sight, touch and
smell of entrails, excrement and putrid flesh, touching
slimy things, depression as in fear, grief, the absence of
human beings, their disapproving behavior, and very
intense sensory stimuli of all sorts.'* The chief inde-
pendent satisfiers are " sweet, meaty, fruity, and nutty
tastes, gUtter, color and motion in objects seen, being
rocked, swung and carried (in childhood), rhythm in
percepts and movements, elation; the presence of human
beings, their manifestations of satisfaction and their
instinctive approving behavior." " Other things being
equal, to have sensations, to initiate movements and to
make things happen are satisfying. . . . Tendencies to
general mental activity and general physical activity
(though they are not as a matter of fact absolutely
general) when given exercise satisfy, and when denied
exercise annoy. The conduction units involved in
many situation-response series also in due time ' crave
146 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
exercise ' — that is, become * ready to act ' — so that
imaging or thinking may become as true a want as food
when hungry, or capture after a chase."
" On the whole it seems best to assume, subject to
further knowledge, the truth of this hypothesis that
any state of affairs is originally satisfying which lets a
conduction unit that is ready to conduct do so, and that
any state of affairs is originally annoying which forces
an unready conduction unit to conduct or restrains from
conducting one that is in readiness." ^
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY
The following references will be found useful if the reader desires
to pursue further the study of original nature. In reading these
chapters, these problems may well be kept in mind :
In what respects is a man's destiny predetermined by his heredity?
What social values have resulted from the fact of human infancy?
George A. Coe, A Social Theory of Religious Education, Chap-
ter X.
E. L. Thorndike, Education, Chapter IV.
John Fiske, The Meaning of Infancy.
^Thorndike, op. cit, p. 132.
CHAPTER X
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT (Continued)
Nature's Provision for Social Living
The Organization of Tendencies. All these ten-
dencies we have been describing, when added together,
do not make human nature as it is. The first responses
are determined merely by the inherited mechanism, but
this mechanism is at once changed by the response and
its effect, so that the next time the same situation recurs,
the response that is made then will be made by the
changed mechanism. The original tendencies are mod-
ified by experience, are overlaid by habits, are never
" pure," as we see them. Yet it is on them that we
build when we teach habits of any kind.
The specific responses we mentioned are important or
unimportant according to our interest, or the interest
of the individual or the species. They do not exist in
the body in classifications: '^ self -preserving," "social,"
" altruistic," and so on. They exist piecemeal. They
are the deposits of generations of selective adjustment.
Some, such as hunting, are inappropriate to modern
ways of life, though at one time they served to give an
advantage to the species in its effort to keep alive. They
have accumulated in a more or less haphazard way.
They are tools, these instincts, just as muscles and bones
are tools. Muscles and bones without the mechanism
and the tendency to movement in the presence of certain
stimuli, would be as useless as the paralyzed limbs of the
victim of poUomyelitis. The specific tendencies to
147
148 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
behavior are as much a part of the equipment we inherit
as are our hands and feet. The one equipment we can
see, the other is just as real, but is hidden away in the
nerve cells of brain and spinal column. The microscope
would reveal the route of the " nerve current " as it
proceeds from the organs of sense along the nerves to the
sense centers of the brain, is distributed among co-
ordinating centers, passes on to motor centers, releasing
there the energy that is transmitted by other nerves to
the muscles, which contract and relax according to the
signals. It is an extremely complicated and wonderful
process. The microscope will help us see how it takes
place, but it will not show why it takes place. This
can be found out only by reference to the interest that
the act serves, and this interest lies beyond the act and
the mechanism which makes the act possible. The
explanation of the chasing, capturing, tearing and de-
vouring lies not in this series of acts, but in the situation
in which these acts take place — a large animal hungry,
a small animal running across the large animal's field of
vision. The relation of the small animal to the large
is an organic one. The large animal has evolved in a
world in which small animals constitute food. Hence
the equipment or mechanism by which that food is
secured.
Almost the same mechanism will be used when the
small animal is forced to defend itself against the large
animal. It runs, it turns and fights, it may even defeat
the enemy and chase it away. But here the reason for
the use of the equipment is different. Or an animal may
pursue its prospective mate, using the same equipment
as is used in chasing the small animal. Again the ex-
planation of the act is different. In the one case the
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 149
organism is " set " to eat, in the second, to defend itself,
in the third, to mate. These organic sets correspond
to what prove to be necessary functions, or behavior
leading to necessary results, if the individual and the
species are to be kept aUve. That is, those species not
getting sufficient food or offspring have ceased to exist.
Those that have persisted, do, therefore, have mecha-
nisms for the performance of these fundamental functions,
which for convenience we may call biological functions:
nutrition, defence, shelter and reproduction. Those
responses have survived and are transmitted as instincts
which have enabled the individual members of the species
to perform these functions.
Social Instincts. Our original responses to persons
are largely for the performance of these functions. The
parental instinct, or helping, fondling, petting, relieving,
protecting offspring, or anything small or in need;
preferring the crowd, or gregariousness, an essential pro-
tection against common enemies; cooperation in hunt-
ing; all these are related to defense, food getting and
reproduction in their origin.
There are many other responses, however, than those
immediately concerned with the preservation of life
by nutrition or fighting that have accumulated in the
course of evolution as by-products or secondarily neces-
sary acts. It is original, for example, for a child to
give attention to human beings, to turn the head so
that another's face will be kept in view. It is also
instinctive to try to gain the mastery over another
individual, or to submit to another who is recognized as
superior. It is characteristic of human nature to be
pleased with another's approval and to be annoyed at
another's disapproval, and to approve or disapprove of
150 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
others^ actions by some gesture or expression. Shyness
or hesitant action in the presence of strangers or num-
bers; display of body or of achievements; rivaky, or
increased vigor of action in the presence of another who
is engaged in the same act, such as pursuing an object;
envy, or the desire to displace another who is enjoying
a desired privilege, such as the mother's lap; teasing,
bullying, which is a sort of combination of mastery,
hunting, scornful behavior, and curiosity as to results;
greed or acquisitiveness; and imitation or satisfaction
in doing as others do; all these are social responses that
have grown up as the result of age-long associations
among individuals of the same species. Some are de-
sirable tendencies. Some are undesirable. The child
is not responsible for having either the " good " or
" bad " tendencies. He is not good or bad because he
is gentle to his younger sister or " cruel " to the cap-
tured fly. He is what nature made him. Nature
turns him over to society to do what it likes with him.
Society can make the original nature into something
good, or it can let it grow up into something which will
be disowned and outlawed by the very forces that pro-
duced it. In the last analysis, it is the mature members
of society who are responsible for the sins of the next
generation. The sins of the fathers are visited upon
the children, but so are their virtues.
Helps and Hindrances. Certain of the social
responses are more important than others in rehgious
education, either because they afford the foundation
on which characteristically Christian behavior is built
or because they are the basis of typical faults that have
to be overcome.
— First among the constructive instincts is the parental,
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 151
or the tendency to respond by fondling, petting, caring
for persons or objects which are small, cute or conceived
to be in need. This tendency, which is the exact oppo-
site of the grabbing and teasing responses, is one of the
earUest to appear and one of the strongest. Mother-
love, utterly forgetful of self, leads to the highest reaches
of service and sacrifice. It is the gentle prompting that
leads the child to care tenderly for dolls and dogs and
tramps. It is the only basis there is for filial affection,
which is nothing more than the child's own parental
instinct stimulated by the parents' need, whether real
or imagined.
Like most instincts, parental responsiveness is an
impulse or general tendency rather than a complete
set of acts for every possible situation. The instinct
is blind. The hen will sit on glass eggs as dutifully as
on her own. Mothers will feed their babies on coffee
as fondly as on milk, and quiet them with candy from
the same impulses. No instinct uninformed is com-
petent to deal with modern complex social situations.
On the great constructive instincts must be built intelh-
gent habits which will provide adapted channels through
which the underlying forces of human life can flow in
regulated and useful streams rather than in the chaotic
and destructive torrents of unschooled passion and
impulse.
Probably the next most significant social response
is the sensitiveness to approval and disapproval by others
coupled with the instinctive approval or disapproval
of others. Here we have the basis in original nature of
much that is characteristically human. Pubhc opinion
becomes an educational force, or, as we say, a moral
force, because people are sensitive to the opinion of
152 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
others. Coupled with the tendency to find satisfaction
in doing as others do, this conforming force becomes a
tremendous civilizing power. Custom and conscience
find here their roots. Standards of action are social
products, and God is the judge of conduct, the personified
conscience, the embodiment of the ideal, who approves
and disapproves, and whose judgments are a great deep.
It is easy to see how greed, bullying, the tendency to
display, fighting propensities, envy and sex interests
get children and youth into difficulties. But to be
forewarned is to be forearmed, and our educational
procedure must make provision for bringing all anti-
social tendencies under control.
The Roots of Religion. In none of the lists of the
specific tendencies of original nature will we find a
rehgious instinct, such as the instinct to fight an attack-
ing animal or to eat when hungry. Yet we are in the
habit of saying that all men are religious. It is not a
man's acts, however, that make him religious, such as
saying prayers, kneeling, going to church, doing Red
Cross work. It is rather a man's dissatisfaction with
his acts, in contrast with his imagination of what those
acts might be and might accomplish, and his effort to
change his acts so that they will conform to this ideal or
carry out this purpose. This tendency to idealize and
organize Hfe is part of our original equipment. But it is
not a separate and specific response to a specific situa-
tion. It is rather one's total response to the total situa-
tion made possible by the organizing power of the mind,
which sees the whole and which controls and organizes
its own relation to the whole.
We are interested in the religious life of children. We
are interested, therefore, in the use the mind makes of
OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 153
the physical equipment that has been caught out of the
stream of hfe into the little whirling eddy we call the
individual.
5, The characteristic activity of mind is to choose; the
characteristic of rehgion is to choose the ideal, the not-
^ yet-realized. The basis of choice is experience. The
thing idealized is an experience. Experience is de-
termined by the tendencies of human nature operating
in the association of individuals. In human beings,
experience is originally and always social. The fact
of human association puts a premium on what we called
the " social responses." Other things being equal, the
individual that is responsive to other persons but weak
in his responsiveness to things and animals will get along
better than an individual, who, though strong in his
responsiveness to things and animals, is weak in his
responsiveness to human beings. Value is set on social
relations, and it is these social experiences that are
idealized and made the basis of organizing purposes.
Mind extends the scope and range of action both in
space and time, and religion is mind at work upon the
problem of securing a permanent, universal, unified,
ideal social experience, an ideal society.
Our religious life grows out of and makes use of our
original capacities. But something is going to be
idealized and made dominant in Ufe. As teachers, let
us see to it that this something is big and positive and
constructive. This biggest thing in our human equip-
ment we shall probably find to be the parental instinct.
Let us build on this, make it grow and reach outward and
upward till kindness and justice and love shall become
the all-inclusive force in the divine human society of
which we are a part.
154 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY
1. What part should Eugenics play m a program of social recon-
struction?
2. What effect will the entrance of women into poUtical and in-
dustrial life have upon
a. Human institutions such as the home?
b. Human progress as determined by institutions such as the
home?
3. What do you think should be done with mental defectives?
4. What relation has the size of a family to the significance of
human infancy?
5. How are the problems discussed in this chapter related to the
problems of economic readjustment such as the minimum wage,
child-labor laws, working conditions, compensation, insurance,
widows' pensions, industrial democracy?
CHAPTER XI
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE
Factors in the Educational Process
Nature's Provision for Education. Among the
tendencies that man inherits is the tendency of all his
tendencies to cooperate in securing greater and more
permanent satisfactions. Original equipment provides
for changing itself in the direction indicated by satisfac-
tions that come from the operation of this equipment
in a human environment. What this human environ-
ment does, therefore, to promote this or that individual
satisfaction in the younger members of the group is of
supreme importance. It is out of these satisfactions
that the individual's values come, and consequently
his ideals and motives.
Original nature thus provides for its own development,
for its own evolution. When human nature becomes
conscious of the fact that it can influence itself, and
change itself in this or that direction, and provides the
means for making this change, we have what we call
education, or " conscious evolution," to use Davidson's
phrase. On the one side we have what the child is
born with, his inherited tendencies and capacities, the
push of the race, welhng up within him, urging him on
to do something, to reach out and grasp and conquer
the new world. These tendencies and capacities form"^
the raw material of growth and education in religion
just as in everything else. But no single racial push or^
155
156 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
combination of impulses makes a man religious. There
is, on the other side, the self-conscious factor, the pur-
poses and ideals and ideas of action. This factor is
developed through experience. The individual, to be
sure, has a tendency to be conscious, to have ideas and
ideals, else he would have none; but what these ideas and
ideals are depends not upon his physical heredity, but
upon his experience among men. There is a social
as well as a physical heritage. There is a racial pull
as well as a racial push. Just as the achieved instincts
and tendencies, physically transmitted, are the raw
material of impulses, so the achieved culture of the race,
transmitted by human fellowship, is the raw material
of the individual's ideas and ideals. Education is a
way of controlHng and molding original nature by the
ideals of the race, so that the vital elements of civiliza-
tion are transmitted to each succeeding generation.
We have, then, these two factors, the child with his
physical heritage and society with its cultural heritage.
The child grows by bringing to this social environment
his original equipment, which works upon and absorbs
and contributes to this racial culture. Apart from life
in the institutions of society, the home, the school, the
state, the church, and industry, there is no individual
life and growth. The individuals of each generation
emerge from the racial stock and from the social milieu
into which they are born. They may emerge only partly
and reproduce faithfully the life of their fathers, becom-
ing conventional, provincial replicas of a limited, hide-
bound caste or class or community. They may emerge
completely, building on the world's experience, and
becoming free citizens of the world, and prophets of a
new social order.
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 157
The Value of Infancy. The great difference be-
tween men and animals lies in just this capacity to be-
come superior to inherited equipment, to change old
ways of doing things and make new ones. As was sug-
gested in the preceding chapter, it takes a long time to
make these changes, much longer than to make a bee or
a butterfly or a bird. The human being gets its chance
in its long infancy, and its chance is measured by the
education which is provided for it. Were the infant
not physically helpless, it is hard to see how it would
have secured the training necessary to give it control of
the experience of the race. Even the wolf puppy asso-
ciates with its parents long enough to learn to do as
they do, and so to conserve such adjustments as have
not been built into the inherited mechanism. The
parents are the first teachers, because they are the care-
takers.
The physical helplessness of children'" thus automati-
cally makes available a personal environment which is
fairly continuous and sympathetic and helpful. The
effect of this on original equipment is of the utmost
importance, for it tends to give social direction to
original tendencies, to cultivate the parental or tender
reactions to the exclusion of the coarser and more brutish.
Family life at its best is the norm and source of all social
education and organization and the type of ideal social
relations. And here we find also, in brotherhood and
fatherhood and sonship, the ground-work of the rehgion
of Jesus.
The Contribution of Culture. It is clear, then,
that human nature is provided by heredity with the
tendency and the mechanism for changing itself into
something nearer to its heart's desire; that the nature of
158 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
the changes that take place depends upon the environ-
mental influences brought to bear upon the individual
during his long infancy; and that these determining
influences, when consciously controlled by society, are
called "education." Just what does education do?
How does it work? How is original nature changed?
There are four specific contributions made by racial
culture to the individual, which society makes more or
less specific according to the degree to which education
is organized: habits and skills; information and ideas;
desires, ideals, and motives; and attitudes. These are
necessary in controlling social relations as well as in the
use of things. We do not want occasional and fortuitous
successes in morality. We want people to do and say
the right thing at the right time every time. We all
Hke children when they are good. The high levels of
spiritual life of which all children are capable should
somehow be made permanent. This can be done only
by developing knowledge of what to do and skill in the
doing. It is not enough to know in a general way that
one should help his neighbor. The tactless but well-
intentioned person who intrudes and says the wrong
thing we all know. Courtesy is more than an ideal.
It is a way of doing things. Prayer is something that
requires skill in the doing.
So we need not only ideals and motives but the moral
machinery for carrying them out.
Another type of moral machinery is acquaintance
with the social institutions by which Christian ideals
are being expressed in the life of society: the church,
the machinery of legislation, local, state and national;
societies for the improvement of conditions, such as the
S. P. C. A., the National Child Labor Committee,
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 159
mission boards, charity organization societies, town
improvement societies. All these must be known not
only by hearsay but through membership and coopera-
tion. So only can the children be equipped for reUgious
living. A small girl overheard her mother turn away a
tramp from the door, explaining that she had no money
for him. " Oh, mother," cried the little girl, " don't
send him away. See, I have some money for him.'*
And she brought out her small savings to be handed to
the tramp. She had not been provided with the moral
machinery for carrying out her good purpose. She did
not know that there was a cooperative association in
the city for ministering to the needs of indigent strangers,
through which she could work much more effectively
than as an individual with a few pennies to give away.
And, lacking this information and this contact with
society, the girl was prevented from being as rehgious
as she was capable of being.
Let us take up these four factors involved in making
over human nature — action, thinking and worship,
somewhat briefly, and motives more extensively in the
next chapter.
1. Action
, Our chief work as teachers of religion is to develop
wholesome religious activity. As a type of this sort of
work, take the Boy Scouts or the Camp Fire Girls.
Their peculiar contribution is that they represent relig-
ion at work in the world instead of religion a spectator
of the world. Each class has, first of all, to be an active
rehgious group, Uving and working together for the
common good. We used to think of the class as a group
of docile goody-goodies who Ustened reverently to the
160 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
teacher while she discoursed on spiritual themes and
told them to be good. But we have recovered from
that. We realize now that the business of the church
school is to help make the community Christian by
establishing within itself a Christian community. If
the churches are to contribute to the establishment of a
Christian democracy, they will have to begin at home by
making their own government, their own methods and
their own educational work democratic.
Whatever phases of religious life we emphasize in
class, it is essential to remember that the universal
method of learning is in and through activity, both
physical and mental, and that the younger the pupils
are the more closely must learning be associated with
muscular activity at the moment of learning.
This does not mean that a pupil should never sit still
and listen. The trouble is that this sitting still and
listening has been the sum and substance of religion to
most people. Relaxation is all right in the right place.
But the essential ideals of religion have so long been
associated with passivity and relaxation that the Chris-
tian religion finds insufficient means of expressing it-
self, and breaks out in forms of action that have been
developed for other purposes, as war, for example. Re-
figion is frequently anemic because people are expected
to be passive in the presence of religious ideals, instead
of actively engaged in realizing these ideals in construc-
tive social endeavor. We may not learn war, nowa-
days, but we turn to war as a means to our ends because
we have not thoroughly learned peace.
It is commonly held that there must be some stimulus,
whether arising within the body or without, for every
act the child does. It is this belief which leads to the
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 161
naming of these acts " responses '* and to the method of
interpreting all acts in terms of the situations in which
they arise. One does not fear in general; he fears
something. The only way to affect a child's acts is to
do something that will serve as a stimulus capable of
eliciting a response. We cannot act directly upon the
child's motor centers. We can act only on his environ-
ment. Can we expect a child to become habitually
loving, helpful and cheerful if there is nothing in his
environment to which love, helpfulness and good cheer
are the child's natural reactions? How can we expect a
child to become Christian unless we provide him with a
Christian environment? We may find ourselves as
teachers frequently obliged to be a Christian community
for the child, and to provide in our own persons a con-
stant source of stimulation for the sort of action we desire
to have become habitual in those whom we teach.
Religious Action. The church school has been
peculiarly subject to the notion of learning without
doing on account of its cultural heritage. It has a
double tradition of passivity behind it, one educational
and one religious, so that it is peculiarly hard for it to
think of religious education in terms of growth through
activity. When it does get a little activity into its
machinery it is added on without being built into the
structure of the system. We have added certain forms
of handwork to the curriculum, for example, but the
curriculum itself has remained for the most part un-
changed.
We should probably agree that among religious acts
would be included, objectively considered, praying,
helping one another, and promoting justice and good
fellowship. How then are we to promote skill in these
162 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
types of action? We want a child to develop religious
habits. Very well, what stimuli are we providing to
call forth from him religious responses? What influences
do we surround him with? Let us see.
If he is a Primary child, he comes to the church school,
sings a few pretty songs in a room that is supposed to
be bright and cheery. Teacher tells him a nice story.
He pastes a picture in a book, then sings a good-bye
Bong and goes home. Sometimes he sings a song to
welcome a new pupil or to recognize a birthday. If it is
his own it costs him six to eight cents — but never mind :
those two songs constitute the essentially religious
part of that program. Next Sunday he does it over
again. Does this recurring situation tend to call forth
rehgious acts and fix them in useful habits? We need
stories and lessons, of course, but let us not overestimate
their effect. A dream world, peopled with fairies and
filled with castles and cool woods, is all very well for a
child of fortune, but it is a poor substitute for a good
mother or a square meal or a bit of green grass or a warm
garment. We may tell the children stories of love and
friendship and helpfulness for an hour on Sunday, but
if they get nothing but blows and toil and lonehness all
the week, what is the use? Forgetfulness? Yes, but
it is not so much our stories that they need as it is
just ourselves, and the type of life for which we as
Christians are supposed to stand.
In Schools of Tomorrow there is a description of how a
single interest was pursued by a class of day-school
children throughout the year.
" In the fifth grade, class activities were centered around a bunga-
low that the children were making. The boys in the class made the
bungalow in their manual training hours. But before they started
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 163
it every pupil had drawn a plan to scale of the house, and worked
out, in their arithmetic period, the amount and cost of the lumber
they would need, both for their own play bungalow and for a full
sized one; they had done a large number of problems taken from the
measurements of the house, such as finding the floor and wall areas
and air space of each room, etc. The children very soon invented
a family for their house and decided they would have them live on a
farm. The arithmetic work was then based on the whole farm.
First, this was laid out for planting, plans were drawn to scale and
from information the children themselves gathered they made their
own problems, basing them on their play farm: such as the size of
the corn field, how many bushels of seeds would be needed to plant
it; how big a crop they could expect, and how much profit. The
children showed great interest and ingenuity in inventing problems
containing the particular arithmetical process they were learning
and which still would fit their farm. They built fences, cement
sidewalks, a brick wall, did the marketing for the family, sold the
butter, milk and eggs, and took out fire insurance. When they were
papering the house, the number of area problems connected with
buying, cutting, and fitting the paper were enough to give them all
the necessary drill in measurement of areas.
" English work centered in much the same way around the build-
ing of the bungalow and the life of its inhabitants. The spelling
lessons came from the words they were using in connection with the
building, etc. The plans for the completed bungalow, a descrip-
tion of the house and the furnishings, or the Hfe of the family that
dwelt in it, furnished inexhaustible material for compositions and
writing lessons. Criticism of these compositions as they were read
aloud to the class by their authors became work in rhetoric; even
the grammar work became more interesting because the sentences
were about the farm.
" Art lessons were also drawn from the work the children were
actually doing in building and furnishing the house. The pupils
were very anxious that their house should be beautiful, so the color
scheme for both the inside and outside furnished a number of
problems in coloring and arrangement. Later they found large op-
portunities for design, in making wall-paper for the house, choosing
and then decorating curtains and upholstery. Each pupil made
his own design, and then the whole class decided which one they
164 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
wanted to use. The pupils also designed and made clay tiles for
the bathroom floor and wall, and planned and laid out a flower
garden. The girls designed and made clothes for the doll inmates of
the house. The whole class enjoyed their drawing lessons im-
mensely because they drew each other posing as different members
of the family in their different occupations on the farm. The work
of this grade in expression consisted principally in dramatizations
of the Ufe on the farm which the children worked out for themselves.
Not only were the children " learning by doing " in the sense that
nearly all the school work centered around activities which had
intrinsic meaning and value to the pupils, but most of the initiative
for the work came from the children themselves. They made their
own number problems; suggested the next step in the work on the
house; criticized each other's compositions, and worked out their
own dramatizations." *
Have we anything equivalent to this in religious educa-
tion? One near approach to it is the practise followed
in some of the older classes in the Union School of Relig-
ion. It has become the custom to search the neighbor-
hood for opportunities of service, utilizing the city in-
stitutions as far as possible. The Charity Organization
Society is asked for the names of families who need help.
The class picks out one that appeals to it and assumes
certain responsibilities toward it for the winter months,
such as supplying food and clothing, rent, work for the
boys, visiting the family regularly and becoming as
friendly as possible with the members. One class took
the mother and children on a picnic and, while they
were gone, a committee of the class got a big lunch ready
for them to eat when they returned. Although the girls
had worked hard to get it and were hungry, they refused
to eat any of the lunch, but waited on Mrs. H. and the
children and left all that they did not eat, refusing to
1 John and Evelyn Dewey, Schools of Tomorrow, pp. 74-77. Published by E. P.
Dutton & Co.
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 165
take anything. But this family served as the center of
social interest all winter long, and out of the experi-
ences that came to the girls in being neighbors to them
came many discussions of social problems that would
have been abstract and uninteresting if taken up simply
as a lesson to be studied.
This is typical of what we must do. We must make
the life of the class one with the hfe of the community,
estabUsh areas of cooperation, make this our chief work,
building our instruction upon the pupils' immediate
experience of social problems.
Furthermore, enterprises involving the whole group
afford opportunities for training in good fellowship.
Children must learn to get along together not by sitting
still together under the thumb of the teacher, but by
doing things together — things which require leadership,
loyal cooperation, sympathy, forbearance. These things
cannot be learned by talking about them or by telhng
stories about them. They must be observed and prac-
tised and made desirable and necessary for the promo-
tion of a happy group hfe.
Perhaps it is clear by now that what we need is not
simply better text-books, not simply better handwork,
not simply a few good deeds called social service, but
rather an entire reorganization of the school as a group
of clubs or societies engaged actively in cooperating with
the individuals and institutions of the community for
common social ends.
Just as the farmer needed his children, so we need
them, though for a higher purpose, and we must recognize
them as an asset in our reUgious hfe. They have con-
tributions to make to the welfare of the community,
real contributions, and by making these contributions
166 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
they will become conscious that they are a part of the
community.
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. If you have ever been a teacher, when did you learn most
easily, quickly and thoroughly the thing you taught, while you
were a student, or after you became a teacher? Why? What
bearing has your answer on the problem of learning ideas of Christian
behavior?
2. Can you suggest ways in which the school work could be ar-
ranged so that the children would have opportunity to learn to do
the things a Christian should be able to do by doing them? Or
should they do such things outside of school hours? What part has
the home to play in Christian education?
3. Suggest a project, analagous to the building of the bungalow,
that might serve as a unifying class interest in reUgious education
throughout a year.
4. Read William James' Chapter on Habit in his Talks to Teachers
or in his Psychology, Briefer Course. How does what he says apply
to religion?
5. On the promotion of acts of service the following books will be
found helpful:
W. N. Hutchins, Graded Social Service for the Sunday School.
R. E. Diffendorfer, Missionary Education in Home and School.
CHAPTER XII
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE {Continued)
2. Thinking
The Functional View of Thinking. So far, we
have been considering that phase of activity which can
be seen. But there is another phase, quite as important,
which cannot be seen, which we call thinking. Think-
ing is simply action become conscious, or action which
has a conscious element in it. It is awareness of what
we are doing. It is not something other than the doing,
for without the doing there would be no thinking in
any true sense. The doing and the thinking constitute
one process of adjustment between an individual and a
situation. Thinking is intelligent action, action which
foresees its own consequences and which makes constant
changes in its course because of these foreseen conse-
quences. Thinking is " being alive," as Dewey says,
moving forward, going somewhere, changing things in-
stead of being changed by them.
Unfortunately, the well-meant effort to bring activity
into the day schools and church schools has usually
neglected this aspect of activity, which gives it its
essentially human quality. It was thought enough to
have the children do things. Tasks were " assigned,"
work "required." They were told what to do, but
not why they did it. This is of course abnormal.
167
168 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
It is not what the children will have to do when they
are grown up and have to decide things for themselves.
Such activity involves no thinking at all and has no
particular relation to the formation of character even
when the activity itself may be social service. It is
external to the will of the child and in engaging in it he
is a mere automaton. His motive is desire for approval,
to please the teacher, fear of punishment or hope of
reward in the shape of marks, pins, or prizes.
IntelUgence in a child is not different from intelligence
in an adult. It means having a purpose and trying to
carry it out by organizing one's acts as means to that
purpose as an end. It means that one must foresee
what is hkely to happen and choose the course of action
that moves in the direction of the desired goal. Hence
arise difficulties and problems which make study neces-
sary, an investigation of all the facts that bear on the
case, experiments in one direction or another, the re-
making of one's plan of action, the achievement of one's
end, and the achievement of an increment of wisdom.
Growth in character involves growth in the capacity
to think and that requires practise in thinking, which
means practise in the adaptation of means to self -chosen
ends. The value of the building of the bungalow, which
was described above, is now seen more clearly. The
children had something to do which was interesting in
itself, a real job, not a make-believe one. It was just
the thing children would do outside of school. It was
their own life they were Uving, not another's. And
in the course of construction they found real need for
many facts of arithmetic and art and English which
they now had a motive for learning. They could see
their use, their relation to the ends they were pursuing.
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 169
They simply had to know these things in order to ac-
complish their growing purpose.
The Place of Thinking in Religion. Without
entering upon the consideration of the technic of think-
ing, which there is not space to discuss, let us suggest
the place of thinking in religion. Character is not a-
thing. It is a process, a going on, a way of meeting
life's situations. It might be called a tendency to grow
wise, that is, to think, and to think always more ade-
quately, foreseeing the consequences of action and choos-
ing those hues of action that will accomplish our purposes.
But what about these purposes? Where do they come
from and how do we decide which to follow? We have
opposing purposes or desires leading us in opposite
directions. The vacillating individual, who follows
now one purpose, now another, lacks something of the
stabiUty we feel belongs to the highest type of character.
His purposes are not harmonious. His hfe is not or-
ganized. He has no supreme purpose controlHng all
the rest. He does not consider ultimate consequences,
but thinks rather of the consequences of each isolated
activity he may be engaged in, or thinks only of the
consequences to himself. We all know the type of man,
now happily growing scarcer, that in private hfe and
church hfe is all that we could ask for in kindness,
gentleness and generosity, but who in business or pro-
fessional life follows the relentless policy of cut-throat
competition, paying starvation wages, requiring long
hours and employing children to do the work of adults.
There is no doubt but that this successful man thinks.
But he thinks only about means. The ends he is pursu-
ing, or the consequences they entail, do not occupy his
attention. The values he stands for in private hfe,
170 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
good-will, kindness, fairness, he repudiates in public
life. He is an unorganized or divided personality.
He has failed to think about the ultimate consequences
of his acts and to harmonize his life in accordance with
some purpose which he has dehberately chosen to follow
because he deems it to be the highest for him.
When a man brings his purposes into his thinking,
weighs carefully the relative value of possible ends of
action and the probable consequences of action, and then,
with his whole soul, follows that line of action which
will most worthily accomplish what seems to him to
be the best, then that man is religious. If the purpose
he follows is the Christian purpose and if the means
he employs conform to Christian standards, then he is
Christian.
An illustration may help to make clear the place
thinking should occupy in our class work.
The present typical method of teaching a lesson is to
bring out some specific quality, such as generosity, that
the hero or heroine displays, and to arouse enthusiasm
for the possession of that quahty. Beyond the fact
that it is hard to get enthusiastic over the achievement
of an abstract quaUty, it should be noted that what we
are chiefly studying here is not character, but the use of
the English language. We name a way of behaving
and then presume that the name has some power over
the behavior. In analyzing qualities we get no further
than names of ways of behaving.
Now as we have seen, the very essence of intelligence
is the foreseeing of consequences. Suppose, then, in-
stead of emphasizing one or another of the many estima-
ble quaUties a hero possesses, we go at the thing more
naturally. Let us ask what the hero does, why he does
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 171
it, and what effect it has on everybody concerned.
What did Joseph do ? That is what the children are
interested in. Why did he do it? What happened in
consequence, to his father, brothers, and the Egyptians?
Were those consequences desirable? Did they depend
on his acting the way he did or would they have hap-
pened anyway? Was it worth while for Joseph to have
done what he did?
And then, we must make the daily experiences and
problems of the pupils the basis of our work. They
must be taught to analyze their own problems: What
situations do they meet that are hke the situation Joseph
was in? In what various ways can they meet those
situations? What will be the probable effect of each
way? Which is the best way? How can we actually
get this way of acting put through? That is, let us
make plans to carry out this specific purpose to get a
specific effect or consequence; for example, to rehabili-
tate a poor family; that is what Joseph did! Then
comes the discussion of success or failure.
As far as possible there must be developed, as the basis
of thought and planning, a class life, including the
activity on Sunday and activity during the week. The
class must become conscious of what it is doing as a
part of the community. The real social problems must
come to the attention of the pupils in natural ways, by
walks and visits and discussions of what others have
seen and done. Whatever means the class can command
must be used to solve or help solve these problems.
Here is where the pupil's money comes in. The class
should be using this money to carry out its own purposes.
They must find for themselves the occasions for spending
it and they must decide for which of the many possible
172 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
causes they will spend it. Otherwise, the giving is not
a factor in character development.
We cannot insist too strongly on the place of thinking \
in all the child does. Mere activity is stultifying.
Mere discussing and planning is morally debihtating.
Without intelligent action, growth in character will be^j
due to influences outside the church-school teaching.
3. Worship
Worship and Character. In our discussion of the
place of thinking in religion, we have already pointed
out that successful thinking is purposive thinking, and
that stability of character implies, not simply the abihty
to think out how to carry out miscellaneous purposes,
but also the possession of a supreme purpose which
controls and harmonizes life. Christian character imv
phes more than the performance of customary Christian
practises; it implies also insight into the relation of\
these practises to the Ufe of the world, or to God's will
or kingdom, and the conscious attempt to organize life
in harmony with this will or kingdom.
This insight and consecration does not generally come
by doing deeds even when these deeds are done skil-
fully and thoughtfully. There is needed also reflection
upon deeds and upon their relation to the will of God.
This contemplative phase of experience, in which the
individual will meets and recognizes the universal Will
and seeks to become identified with it, we call worship.
In such moments the details of instruction and of human
relationships are brought into consciousness together
with God himself, so that the light of his personahty
is shed over the whole of hfe, and the inertia of society
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 173
as we know it and live it is overcome by the momentum
of this ideal society of which we become conscious in
worship. Without this experience or its equivalent,
no individual attains to the level of organization and
power that is possible for him at his stage of develop-
ment. During the early years of hfe, when fragmentary
experiences are beginning to be understood, and when
untrained impulses are first coming under the control
of ideals and hard-won purposes, it is of fundamental
importance that the organizing and stimulating function
of worship should be recognized as an indispensable
educational force.
The Cultivation of Christian Attitudes through
Worship. As has already been suggested, the pecuhar
contribution worship makes to life is in the realm of
feelings, attitudes, purposes. Religion has to do with
the purposive organization of life. It is the process by
which the mind is constantly reset, redirected, pointed,
oriented, with reference to what is happening to it.
Our hearts are set on many things. The absence of
rehgion means that these many values are competing
with one another for mastery. They are not cooperating
with one another in an organized system with a com-
mon, superior value at the top which is the desire to
desire the best, whatever this may prove to be. In the
Christian religion we feel that this best is the will of God.
Hence we seek to know and do his will.
Now in worship we are not so much concerned with
the means by which our purposes shall be accompKshed
as we are with the fundamental values in relation to
which we form our purposes. We stop our business for
the moment to consider what we are doing and why we
are doing it. We give our attention to the values we
174 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
imagine ourselves to be seeking, so that these may freshly
take possession of us, and may cheer us on our way when
we return to the daily routine. We cannot be con-
stantly thinking of our ultimate purposes in every least
act. When I sit at my desk I cannot give my thought
constantly to the exact contribution my work is making
to the progress of the kingdom of God. This would
make me self-conscious and inhibit my thinking. And
yet some such interpretation of my work I occasionally
need so as to keep' it going. This occasional falling
back upon or reaching up to the values that I confidently
believe to be present in my work is worship. Here
I get my mind set toward the proper ends of life. I
acquire attitudes which carry through my action and
my thinking. I feel about things, rather than critically
analyze things. I see things in wholes. I get perspec-
tive, and vision, and motive; for in worship I reahze
intensely myself, my fellows, and God, and the meaning
of this fellowship in our common human experience.
In private worship we usually leave to chance the
decision of what feelings are to be aroused. But public
worship requires leadership, and wherever there is
leadership there is control and guidance. Our prob-
lem as leaders is to exercise this control intelligently and
to accomplish through worship the sort of results that
are natural to worship and that contribute definitely
to Christian character. Some feelings are going to be
aroused in real worship. We must see to it that these
feelings are Christian.
What are the feelings that characterize the Christian
religion? For most of us, the all-inclusive Christian
attitude is love, the taking of another's interest as one's
own, or in its largest sense, the will to work for the wel-
MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 175
fare of the world in the consciousness that in so doing
one is making common cause with the purpose of God
supremely manifested in Jesus. How love shall express
itself depends upon circumstances. But there are
certain universal attitudes that make for the fulfilment
of love in our ordinary human relations, and these atti-
tudes we desire to have become habitual. By what-
ever names we call them, they will include these five:
gratitude, good-will, reverence, faith and loyalty.
These are the attitudes that determine the direc-
tion of our thought and action so that the details of
experience move constantly toward the Christian pur-
pose. Equipped with these fundamental mental "sets "
we are freed from the control of unchristian impulses
and can devote ourselves fully to the working out of
the Christian purpose in human relationships, through
our thinking and our action.
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1, What is the difference between a desire and an ideal? Where
do ideals come from? What sort of ideals do children have?
2. How do you find out what problems children actually face?
How do you help children see what their problems really are?
- 3. Read F. M. McMurry, How to Study, Chapter III, and apply
this method to your next church-school lesson, showing how you
would help your pupils to learn how to study properly.
4. From your own experience of worship, what do you regard as
its value for you? What effect does worship have on you, at the
moment of worship and afterwards?
5. Outline your own church-school opening exercises and answer
these questions:
(1) Is there a spirit of worship?
(2) What is the aim of the exercises?
(3) Is there either instruction or training in worship during the
exercises or at some other time?
176 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
(4) What religious ideas are prominent in the hymns sung?
Are these ideas characteristic of wholesome reUgious Hfe in children?
On thinking, see John Dewey, How We Think, and John and Eve-
lyn Dewey, Schools of Tomorrow.
On worship, see the author's Manual for Training in Worship.
CHAPTER XIII
MOTIVES
The Fourth Factor in the Educational Process
In the fifth chapter of Matthew there is a defense of
a religion of faith. In the second chapter of James
there is a defense of a religion of works. ^ Jesus was not
trying to behttle good acts. He was sick of seeing good
acts turned out wholesale as the purchase price of per-
sonal advantage. How many passages bear out this
insistence upon purity of heart: the whited sepulcher,
the cup clean outside, but dirty on the inside, " out
of the heart come forth evil thoughts, murders, thefts,
raihngs." A tree is known by its fruits, to be sure, but
a thorn does not bear figs. The man is of more impor-
tance than what he does, though what he does is in
part an indicator of what he is.
It is not simply what a man does, that counts in a
world that is made up of human beings. Being some-
body is more than doing something. The external,
overt act is only part of the total spiritual fact which
constitutes the unit of fellowship. How hollow is the
friendship that is built up around conventional courte-
sies, rendered without personal regard, but because of
the demands of " society." How futile is the charity
of the rich proffered out of a full purse, from a passing
sense of duty without fellow-feeling; or in mere good
nature. How often the machinery of organized relief
» Matt. 5 : 8. 22, 28. James 1 : 27; 2 : 14-26.
177
178 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
"^ crushes and maims the souls of those for whom it is
manufacturing philanthropy.
^ After all, relief is a poor blessing, justified in part
when it is an incident of friendship, but a ghastly carica-
ture of the Christian spirit when it is not likewise an
incident in the Christian demand for justice between
men, for the sake of men, a demand which should find
expression not in more charity machinery, but in
such social and political changes as will make charity
\ increasingly unnecessary.
What are Motives? We frequently say, ''His mo-
tives were mixed. '^ Or we ask, '' What were his ulterior
motives? " We imply that a person often has more
than one reason for doing things. We are in the habit
of classifying these reasons as '' selfish '^ and " un-
selfish," or as " seK-regarding " and " seK-denying "
or " other-regarding." What we mean is that there are
two main inducements for any sort of action to which all
motives can be reduced, namely, the thought of one's own
advantage, and the thought of some one else's advantage.
Are our motives thus capable of being classified and
reduced? Or is this attempt to pigeonhole our motives
artificial, an abstraction from real Hfe?
In our discussion of thinking, it was suggested that
intelligent action was action undertaken in the Hght of
foreseen consequences. It is these foreseen consequences
that are the true motives of one's action. When we act
without foreseeing or expecting consequences, we act
without motive, or blindly, Hke a machine.
Motives as Foreseen Consequences. We are
interested in many different kinds of consequences,
some more clearly defined than others. Frequently
we get interested in one consequence and forget about
MOTIVES 179
or do not foresee other consequences which follow from
the same act. We get to thinking about how good it
would feel to go in bathing some hot day, and we forget
that a cold dip right after dinner is fraught with danger.
Or we go in in the morning, when we feel hot, and then
cannot go in in the afternoon with all the rest, because
the doctor says once a day is enough. In each case,
the immediate sensuous satisfaction was the conse-
quence which was effective in getting us to act ; in the
first place, in spite of possible danger to health, and in the
second place, in spite of the greater, but postponed,
satisfaction of going in with the rest.
Why was one consequence foreseen, rather than the
other, or, if both were foreseen, why did we take one
rather than the other? We know some people who
would always consider the immediate satisfaction of the
senses as of more consequence than health. Others
would usually prefer the immediate pleasure to post-
ponement for the sake of being sociable. What is the
difference between these individuals and those who
would postpone immediate satisfaction for the sake of
health or sociabihty? And is the one type using higher
motives than the other? If so, can we get the " higher "
motives to operate instead of the " lower "?
Two things are involved : First, foreseeing other conse-
quences than merely those that are obvious; second,
preferring or choosing consequences of one sort rather
than another. Can we train children to look for conse-
quences and to prefer one sort rather than another?
If we can, then we can train their motives, as well as
their external behavior.
Let us begin by thinking of " consequences " as the
results of activities or enterprises. Instead of classify-
180 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
ing consequences as selfish and unselfish, let us forget
all about self, and think of what that self is doing. Do
children, as a matter of fact, stop to choose between
acts which will bring pleasure to themselves rather than
to others, or do they rather follow out certain lines
of behavior in which they happen to be engaged, without
regard to consequences to either self or others? They
do not stop and say, '^ Go to now, I will get my soldiers
out because that will bring me happiness." They say:
" I will get my soldiers out for a great battle.'' If
you try to force an answer other than this simple conse-
quence, they will say: ^' Just because I want to."
Unless already spoiled by unwise teaching, the child is
not intent on seeking his own happiness, but on follow-
ing out certain interests, whithersoever they may lead
him. What is the important thing to him? Neither
his own nor any one else's happiness, but the enterprise;^
and consequences are foreseen and chosen or set aside
because of their relation to this enterprise. Such mo-
tives are pure in the best sense.
But this Purity of Motive is Usually Destroyed.
We adults come along, and by our punishments and
rewards we get the poor little duffers thinking not about
things to do, and bigger and smaller enterprises, but
about their own happiness or unhappiness, or their own
pleasure or pain, and then, when we have distorted their
motives by forcing them prudently to consider what
effect a deed has upon their pleasure, we try to correct
the fault by persuading them that pleasure is to be found,
not by seeking it for oneself, but by seeking it for others,
and so we substitute a " higher " seH-regard, which
deliberately chooses to serve because, by serving, one
can attain temporary or eternal bhss.
MOTIVES 181
This procedure is neither natural, nor necessary for
the achievement of social-mindedness. It deliberately
makes for the type of anti-social or individualistic
mindedness that causes trouble in adolescence, when the
boy or girl " wakes up " to find that he has been a selfish
animal, and in the throes of a conversion experience
tries to undo in five minutes the bad effects of fifteen
years of misguided teaching. It is a good deal to
expect.
What is the alternative? In general, it is this : Keep
his attention upon enterprises, rather than upon " mo-^
tives "; or upon social consequences rather than upon his
own states of mind; and engage him in activities that
will call into exercise his own potentialities and that will
lead into the great human enterprises which are themselves
the end to he achieved by men. Teach the children to seek
first the Kingdom, and to find their satisfaction, not in
the " added things/' hut in the life of the Kingdom itself.
The Growth of Motives. With very young chil-
dren, the motives for activity lie naturally within the
activity itself. They do not see beyond their play
anything that is being accomplished by it. The
mother does, however. She sees the relation of this
play to the winning of necessary muscular coordinations
and habits of self-control. The child sees only the
activity. It has no " consequences " for him. It just
is. But gradually his plays grow more complex. He
takes his nest of blocks apart and later puts the blocks
together. Then he puts them on top of one another in
constantly more varied ways, seeking constantly more
distant ends. Even these units, such as " playing
blocks," " playing dolls," get taken up into larger
enterprises: he builds a house for his dolls with his
182 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
blocks, and does things, therefore, with his blocks that
the blocks alone would not have suggested to him.
He sees both blocks and dolls as part of a larger whole:
building a doll's house. This new synthesis later com-
bines with other interests, and he will perhaps set up
housekeeping with his dolls, developing all sorts of new
activities which grow right out of the old, and which now
constitute the motive for the lesser and contributory
activities such as handling the blocks.
In a similar way, the child begins as a member of a
social unit, the family. Little by little, as he partici-
pates in the family's life and becomes conscious of it,
we want him to feel that this immediate activity is
just part of a bigger enterprise, which includes the first.
So with his day school and his church school, and his
clubs and his unorganized relationships. The bigger
enterprise gradually absorbs them all and constitutes
the motive for them all. This all-inclusive social enter-
prise is the Christian cause, the kingdom or common-
wealth or democracy of God. It is this that the teacher
sees from the beginning. To help the child participate
in, and fit himself more perfectly for, this last and biggest
thing is the teacher's aim. As soon as the pupil reaches
the point where he sees what he does as a part of this
world movement, his aim and the teacher's are the
same. Each class session becomes then a cooperative
effort to contribute something to this enterprise or to
achieve some bit of skill or information which is needed
for larger and more effective work elsewhere.
Developing Motives through Activity. Instead of
trying to persuade our pupils to be '' generous," " un-
selfish," " thoughtful " and the hke, let us see how we
can engage them in the right sort of action, utiHzing
MOTIVES 183
at each step the appeal to the instincts which are by
nature socially directed, and making this appeal not
by preaching but by presenting actual situations re-
quiring social adjustment, and by directing attention
to the consequences that appeal to these same instincts.
Any particular kind of situation after a while develops
a selected response, or habit. This in time becomes
modified by attention to consequences until a specific
skill results. When this particular kind of response is
formulated and accepted as the desired response for
other Uke situations, it becomes an ideal. When sup-
ported by definite social sanctions, this ideal becomes
" duty.'^
The Basic, Enduring Motives are Instinctive,
but are in Need of Modification. We can depend in
the long run upon the parental instinct to get a particu-
lar habit or interest started. But we cannot depend on
the instinct to guide us in emergencies. Uninformed
mothering does not cure disease, though those who study
how to cure disease may be prompted to do so because
of the instinct to care for those in trouble. We depend
on the desire for approval and the annoyance of disap-
proval to get acts going which otherwise we cannot start.
But as a permanent motive this is unsatisfactory as it
stands. Whose approval is to be sought? Discrimina-
tion among approvers must be taught. The desire to
do what others are doing is a strong tendency in young
children and often must be called into play in getting
them started doing things which will later develop in-
herent motives. The child takes part in family prayers
at first just because the rest do. Professor Coe gives
a charming instance : A child who had learned to count
up to eight joined with the family when they repeated
184 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
the Lord^s Prayer by counting " one, two, three, — "
up to eight, repeating the performance till the prayer
was ended. She was prompted to do this by her desire
to be " in the game," but this desire alone could not
provide her with the necessary forms of cooperation.
These have to be learned.
It is equally true that to foresee consequences and
let foreseen consequences get in their work on our
instincts and acquired habits and interests takes time.
In emergencies we have frequently to fall back on the
habits already acquired as giving form to responses
appropriate to similar situations, or upon the sense of
duty that bolsters up parental instinct as against the
instinct of self-defense, and calls into play the skill,
if we have it, necessary for rescuing the child, assuming
leadership of the crowd, or merely maintaining silence
and a " cool head " long enough to analyze the situation,
if there is time to do so.
Resume. These then are the sources of action:
Instincts, pushing up within us, providing us with
tendencies to behavior and with promptings or readi-
nesses to types of behavior; acquired interests, based
on instincts and representing the combination of various
instincts and capacities developed in specific channels,
and constituting acquired tendencies and promptings
or readinesses to particular forms of behavior; ideals,
including " duty," being formulations of desired be-
havior, and bringing to bear the pressure of a real or
ideal society upon the conduct of the moment.
And these tendencies, general and specific, are called
into play both by the immediate stimulus and by the
imagined consequences of imagined action.
What do we desire for our children, then? Simply
MOTIVES 185
gradual enlistment in the great human enterprises and
interests: in family, school, church, industry and state;
in art, science, literature, reHgion and organized life; in
the pursuit and the practise of world-wide democracy
in education, in industry, in art and in politics; and in
the reUef of distress. This means development to the
full of special capacities or interests, as well as coopera-
tion with others in practical affairs. And all this
cooperation and this development of capacity is for the
sake of the common good. This is the consequence to
which we wish to make constant appeal and this conse-
quence must be associated with the sense of duty, with
the constructive social instincts, with all our skills and
all our information. If we succeed in establishing this
motive, we shall have relieved ourselves of the dilemma
of having to start individualistic motives and then to
change them into social motives, for the very same
enterprises in which the child of six is engaged are those
also in which the adolescents and adults are engaged,
and all are working from the same motive — foresight
of the common good. There will be no whited sepul-
chers with dead men's bones within, or half-washed
cups, for the Christian enterprise shall have grown
up within the children and shall have been espoused for
its own sake, and not for selfish advantage.
It is exceedingly important, therefore, that we begin
at the very beginning to utiHze instincts that are nat-
urally directed toward cooperation with others, to form
ideals that look toward types of cooperative behavior,
to establish habits of friendship, and justice, and co-
operative dehberation upon the results of different
ways of acting, with a view to choosing the behavior
that promotes best the common good.
186 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Typical Problems. How little attention we ordi-
narily give to the provision of motives for action is well
illustrated by the two following problems :
1. How shall we teach our pupils the practise of
prayer?
2. How shall we secure home work?
1. What Motives are there for the Ten-year-olds to Pray at
night or morning, say? What desirable consequences of praying
are evident to these children? What have they prayed for or about?
What has been the effect? Are they aware of any efifect? Do they
" pray " for gifts? Do they receive them?
What ideals concerning prayer have been cultivated in them?
Do they feel any obligation to pray? Is any social pressure exerted
to lead them to pray?
What instincts are there to lead to prayer, and what is the stimu-
lus that starts the activity? Desire for approval? — Who approves?
Imitation? — Who else prays? Desire to cooperate? — With
whom? The parental instinct? — Have they been taught to pray
for others? Fear? — It may be.
They are not in the habit of praying. We cannot depend on
that to keep the praying activity going.
What then shall we do?
Suppose we supply all these deficiencies, beginning with ourselves.
^We can ourselves pray if for no other reason than to let them know
some one prays. We can get the whole class to try it. We can en-
list the feeUng of wanting to do what all the rest do. We can discuss
what prayer means and what its consequences are. We might even
sometimes add a sense of obligation by starting the equivalent
of the Y. M. C. A. " morning watch " pledge and so appealing to
the sense of honor to get the promised task done, which might be
of use to get the activity going. We can provide an immediate
stimulus in the way of a printed prayer or list of topics to be placed
in the bedroom mirror. Added motive is afforded if these topics are
worked out by the class, and are of a nature to stimulate such ten-
dencies as the parental interest in others; the desire for approval —
God's approval; the desire to cooperate — to share ia God's work;
the tendency to criticize and ideaUze — leading to repentance,
aspiration and resolution.
MOTIVES 187
Thus it will become an important cooperative enterprise with
consequences for the common good, and incidentally the habit will
be started.
2. As for Home Work, how many teachers do you
suppose actually take time to get the pupils interested
in the next lesson? What reason do they have for study-
ing it at aU? Simply desire to please the teacher or
fear of his disapproval? Whatever motive the pupils
have, evidently it is not a powerful one, for the amount
of home work accomphshed even in the best schools is
depressingly meager.
The peculiar difficulties of church-school work at once suggest
themselves: There is usually only one session a week, and a week is
a long time to carry over an interest in a course of study; the work
is voluntary; there is a strong tradition beUttling the importance
of the school work and sometimes making it a sign of mental weak-
ness to study the lesson; and finally, sad to say, there is the accumu-
lated effect of bad methods of teaching and lesson-making, which
make the study of the lesson an uninteresting or even disagreeable
drudgery. Witness the practise once used of assigning for daily
Bible reading one verse of the next Sunday's story! Imagine a
child's reading Treasure Island at the rate of three Unes a day!
This is typical of preposterous methods now happily being out-
grown.
To apply some of the principles discussed in the preceding
pages, we must find, first, a sort of home work that will really^
contribute something to the class work. And second, we must seCs^
to it that the pupils understand the relation between home work
and class work. That is, the home work must be, in the minds of
the pupils, an essential part of a cooperative enterprise in which
they are already interested, and each pupil must feel that his home
work makes a necessary contribution to this enterprise.
This is a counsel of perfection. It is this state of affairs that we
desire to attain to. Meanwhile, we must use, frequently, motives
that are on a lower plane. It may be, for example, that one pupil
will not do anything for the sake of the class work, unless some special
188 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
interest of his, such as an interest in drawing, can be called into
play. If this pupil can be asked to make a map or a note-book
cover for class use, he will do so because he likes to draw. And then
if he can be made to feel the importance of his map or cover for the
class work and can receive the satisfaction of the class's approval,
the first step will have been taken toward developing a truly coopera-
tive motive.
Let us caution ourselves at this point not to confuse the motive
that leads one to do something jor the sake of the social approval
of the group with the motive that leads one to do something for
the sake of the group, or the work in which the group is engaged. We
.may use social approval wisely in order to strengthen the desire to
work for the sake of the cause, but we need to be on our guard
against the danger that the social approval itself will be the sole
object for which the child works. The child that is habitually
compelled to " show off " for the benefit of admiring callers is in
the way of becoming a sycophant, ever playing to the galleries, with
no mind of his own, blown about by every wind of doctrine, intent
only on applause and unhappy without it.
This is not the place to go into details of method.
A suggestion or two, however, may serve to illustrate
the psychological laws involved.
1. In order to stimulate interest in the class enterprise, describe
to the class the plan of having a " class book," containing a record
of what the class does. The minutes of the sessions, photographs,
a class attendance chart, records of special events, the budget and
treasurer's report, and anything else of common interest are put into
this loose-leaf note-book which is displayed at the school exhibit
at the end of the year. This gives concrete, tangible evidence that a
piece of home work, such as an essay on some problem arising in
class, is a real contribution to the class enterprise.
2. In order to assure the maintenance of interest from week to
week, care should be taken to seize upon problems that arise in a
class session which can be made the starting point for the following
session. The problem may be entirely within the subject matter,
as, for example. What was there about Harriet Beecher Stowe's
ancestry or early training or environment that would account for
MOTIVES 189
her ability to write Uncle Tom's Cabinf Such problems can be led
up to as the concluding feature of a lesson, and then it can be pointed
out carefully how the next lesson can be used to find the answer to
the problem. Practical problems can be handled in the same way.
The class may reach a clear-cut conclusion as to how to treat people
who do wrong because of ignorance or under the pressure of starva-
tion. " But you were just asking what to do about those who, in
spite of all their advantages and from the motive of sheer greed,
commit terrible crimes. Well, the next lesson takes up this problem.
Notice the title. And the references, you see, are to just such cases,
and to the various ways in which such criminals have been treated.
And you will see on page so and so how you can hunt out the Chris-
tian way of dealing with this problem " — and so on.
3. Make provision for the employment of special interests or
talent, by letting pupils choose which parts of the lesson they will
prepare or which problems they will take; or by assigning such
problems or work as you know will appeal to the individual pupil.
4. Teach the pupils how to study. Assist them in getting a"^
place to keep their work, and in arranging their schedules so as to
allow time for the study of the lesson or for hunting out something
in connection with the lesson. Use a variety of methods — let the
home work be flexible. Occasionally mail reminders of the work or
make special requests for special work during the week. Be sure
that any work to be done is understood and written down. Get the
parents interested in the problems discussed by the class. Grade
the home work carefully according to the age and abihties of the
pupils; keep it difficult but not so difficult as to discourage all effort.
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. Why do children go to school?
2. Does your school try to improve attendance and increase enrol-
ment? What means are used? What motives are being developed
by these means? Are these the highest of which the children are
capable? Can you suggest a better way of proceeding?
3. Observe a class, and note to what motives the teacher appeals
to secure order; to provide for the study of the next lesson. What
would you have done as the teacher of this class?
4. Study the Boy Scouts, or Camp Fire Girls, or Girl Scouts in
190 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
the matter of prizes and honors. How are these awards affected by
the method of their presentation? Does the fact that the awards
symbolize social approval justify their use? What evidence can
you get as to the effect on the boys and girls? How do such prizes
differ from monetary or other valuable prizes in their influence upon
character? Do you approve of marks in day school? In church
school? What sort of marks?
5. Describe the method of missionary education in your school.
What provision is made for knowing and foreseeing the consequences
of giving?
6. In what home activities should children of different ages en-
gage? Which is better, to pay a child for performing routine home
duties, or to have him perform them as a bit of family cooperation?
How about special services?
7. On the problem of human motives, R. C. Cabot, What Men
Live By, will be found useful.
CHAPTER XIV
HEALTH
The Relation of Health to Character -
Thoroughgoing Christianity Requires the Prac-
tise and Promotion of Health. This has both a
positive and a negative meaning. It concerns both
personal and public hygiene. Cleanliness is next to
godUness in a far deeper sense than the author of this
phrase imagined.
We have already learned that one cannot be truly
religious without considering carefully the consequences
of his acts and choosing the acts that make for the com-
mon good. Disease does not make for the common
good. Being below par does not make for the com-
mon good. Voluntary choice of a personal regimen that
permits the decay of one^s vitaUty is unchristian.
Submission to conditions of public sanitation in cars,
schools, public buildings, sewerage removal, plumbing,
water supply, milk supply, food supply, coal supply,
housing, which permit the breeding of disease or the
lowering of the vitaUty of others is unchristian. And
surely to expose others unnecessarily to infection from
one's own cold or other disease is a flagrant violation
of good-will, and far removed from the Christian idea of
social obHgation.
Personal Health. It is not the place here to suggest
a detailed program for the maintenance of the health of
children. Parents will find programs adequately de-
191
192 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
scribed in such books as The Mothercraft Manual^ Mary
L. Read; The Care and Feeding of Children, L. E. Holt;
Short Talks with Young Mothers, C. G. Kerley; A
Layman^ s Handbook of Medicine, R. C. Cabot; How
to Liive, Fisher and Fisk.
The last two volumes should be in every church-
school library, and the last one should be owned by
every teacher. The first of these two helps the social
worker to detect the evidences of disease, and the second
deals with the conditions essential to health. No one
who attempts to be a leader of children can afford to
neglect his own health, both for their protection and
their inspiration. But beyond this a great deal can be
done to promote the children's interest in health as an
attainable ideal, and as a proper function of childhood.
The interest in physique for its own sake does not
seem to come till early adolescence. At that time ap-
peals for proper care of oneself can usually be made
effective if the relation of hygiene to physical develop-
ment is understood.
This conception of the relation of hygiene to de-
velopment is not sufficient with younger children, how-
ever. It is even difficult to get them to avoid candy
for the sake of avoiding a stomach ache. It is hard to
get children over six to eat so they will " grow.'' Even
Hkening the body to a steam engine which needs coal
(food) and careful cleaning (baths and brushing teeth)
will not usually serve as an incentive strong enough to
overcome temporary recalcitrant moods.
But some interest in the regimen itself can be de-
veloped, particularly if it is made a cooperative affair
in which all the members of the family participate as in
a sort of game. The game has rules of course. So the
HEALTH 193
family has rules of hygiene — even rituals and forms
and ceremonies, which add color to the monotony
of morning exercises and the washing of face and
hands. Exercising and dressing to the accompani-
ment of march music on the phonograph become
almost recreation.
Appropriate instruction in the mechanism of the
body should be given as soon as interest in the subject
will permit it.^ The direct study of the body and of its\^
wonderful care of itself will be a far better incentive to
proper hygiene than any comparisons with steam en--^
gines. Nor is it difficult to help the child to see the
importance of simple precautions for the sake of others :
the careful disposal of handkerchiefs, washcloths and
towels, washing the hands, coughing into the handker-
chief. These things they will do for the sake of others,
even when the more burdensome ^' setting up " exercises
are neglected.
It is more and more becoming the custom to use one's
doctor to prevent rather than to cure disease, to main-
tain the highest possible physical efficiency. Many
families have their children periodically examined
whether they are sick or not. Thus little things are
detected before they become big, and many a serious ill-
ness is avoided. It is no longer considered necessary
that children should have all the " children's diseases "
while they are young, any more than that a young
man should sow his wild oats. What a splendid thing
it would be if there were no diseases to maim and kill
the children, who are not responsible as we adults are
for the perpetuation of sickness. As long as every one
1 A good text book on Biology is the Bigelows' Introduction to Biology, or their
Applied Biology. Cabot's book, referred to above, gives sufficient anatomy and
physiology for the average teacher.
194 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
is "just a little " careless, epidemics of death-dealing
disease may be expected. It must be that we don't
care. If we cared enough, we would stop it.
Many diseases, if detected in time, are less disabhng;
and by maintaining top-notch condition, many diseases
will be warded off even when the children are exposed
to infection. Top-notch efficiency depends, however,
upon attention to many things besides contagious
diseases: enlarged tonsils, adenoid growths, decaying
or misplaced teeth, heart weakness, constipation, eye-
strain, foot trouble, and many other conditions. These
can frequently be remedied before serious damage is
done, but if allowed to go unattended to, they leave in
their wake more serious and often incurable conditions:
spinal curvature, tuberculosis, " rheumatic heart,"
intestinal adhesions, failing eyesight, misshapen jaws,
bad teeth, flat feet, and all the rest. Get a doctor who
understands health as well as disease, and who can
detect incipient troubles before they get well started,
to see that your children are kept well.
The elements of healthful living are these: air, food,
exercise, rest, work, recreation and peace of mind.
One can get along, of course, with defects in any or all
of these elements, but he will not be able to maintain
top-notch efficiency without plenty of all seven. As
Professor Thorndike is reported to have said when asked
how long a man should work, " Take enough time to
sleep, to play and exercise, to eat — and work all the
rest of the time."
It is not necessary to be a " fresh air fiend " and to
make all your friends hate you in order to get enough
fresh air. But if a child is below par, an open-air school-
room is an advantage. Certainly windows are to be
HEALTH 195
wide open at night, and better still is the outdoor sleep-
ing porch or some makeshift which provides the maximum
of fresh air without depriving the body of needed protec-
tion from cold. Draughts are of no consequence unless
they chill the surface exposed to them. Cold bathing
increases local resistance to cold draughts. Care should
be taken to avoid chilling the body, however, for when
the temperature is below normal, resistance is decreased,
and any disease germs that happen to be already in the
body are given a chance to grow and get rooted. This
is particularly true of " colds " which often seem to
start after unusual exposure, but which really simply
get a chance to take hold when resistance is decreased.
Resistance is maintained by proper food and free
ehmination of waste through skin, kidneys and bowels.
In order to maintain body temperature, and to provide
building material and storage of surplus, a well-rounded
diet is particularly necessary for children. Relatively
to their bulk, they need more food than adults. They
are growing, and Uving at a higher pace. They have
less endurance, and cannot go so long without food.
Immediate depreciation of vitahty is noticed when the
food supply is cut down.
Rest is indeed important for children. They need
plenty of sleep. They grow when they are asleep!
And their excessive expenditure of energy requires a
long recuperative process. The good old custom of an
early bedtime was a sound one. It helped make healthy
children. For younger children, and as long as they
can be persuaded to do so, an afternoon nap is a great
blessing for the whole family. Certainly there should
be time for rest if not for a nap.
As has already been suggested, exercise is normal to
196 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
childhood. Healthy children will usually take all they
need. Those who lack vitality, however, are apt to
choose sedentary occupations, just as grown-ups do,
and to require special incentives to exercise, such as
games. Special exercises assist symmetrical develop-
ment, and counterbalance the asymmetrical effects of
some games. Handball counteracts baseball, for ex-
ample, by calling both arms into play. Swimming
uses the whole body, rather than just legs, or just arms.
When neither handball nor swimming are available,
various " setting up '' exercises, or gymnasium work,
will artificially accomplish the same results.
The public schools are to be held accountable for bad
as well as good physical results. All too little attention
has been paid to sanitary conditions and to exercise.
Children used to be required to sit for hours in much the
same cramped position. No wonder many grew up
with hollow chests, round shoulders and crooked spines.
If adults need frequent change of position and stirring
up of the circulation, how much more do the children,
who are building their bodies? Getting up and stretch-
ing, walking around the room, group exercises with
windows open — or better, in a gymnasium — these
things help to compensate for the tendency to sit still
too long. But beyond these relaxations, there should of
course be opportunity for physical development under
expert supervision, through athletics, gymnasium work,
swimming, hikes, and so on. The church should stand
for physical education, whether in the schools or under
other auspices, as an essential part of the educational
program of every child.
Peace of Mind. That there is an intimate connec-
tion between mental condition and health is well under-
HEALTH 197
stood. The irritable mood is as likely to be directly
due to indigestion or constipation or eye-strain or too
little fresh air and exercise, as to a disappointment.
When predisposed by physical condition to irritabiUty,
of course almost any incident is seized upon as the occa-
sion of annoyance. Some such occasions are absurdly
trifling, and would hardly distract attention under
normal conditions. Frequent disabihty may easily
lead to a habit of irritabihty, however, that continues
between the physical occasions and becomes a permanent
mental characteristic. Mere restoration to health will
have to be supplemented by rigorous mental hygiene if
such chronic bad temper or nervousness is to be overcome.
On the other hand, the physical condition is largely
dependent on the individual's state of mind. Shock
from disappointment or fear or excitement is apt to upset
digestion; this upset then starts the usual train of un-
happy consequences. Hurry and worry and bad feel-
ing are not conducive to good health. Over-excitement
may be followed by depression with its craving for more
excitement. Children who hve in a tense atmosphere
in which everything that happens causes explosive com-
ments by the elders, where there is frequent clash of
wills and display of temper, where every one is in a hurry,
or always late or afraid of being late, where impending
disaster looms high in imagination and all are worried
to death over troubles that never come, such children
are only too hkely to grow up semi-nem"otics, Hable to
all sorts of physical ills, and to be regarded as " nervous,"
or " cranky," or " moody," or " queer," all their Uves.
Health does not generally blossom out of a desert of
gloom and worry. It needs the peaceful, warm-hearted
sunshine of adult self-control and mutual good-will
198 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
for its nurture. Patience, calmness, moderation in
expression, low-voiced rather than strident conversa-
tion, slowness to wrath, and constant attention to the
hopeful, happy, wholesome things by the parents and
teachers will do more than almost anything else to
create an atmosphere favorable to health.
Public Hygiene. We cannot begin too early to
interest the children in pubhc health. Our Christian
program for the world includes the promotion of the
world's health. The child's contribution to it begins
with his care for his own health. But he can very early
participate in helping the family to keep well, in helping
his classmates to keep well, and in helping other families
to keep well. His contacts with hospitals for children
can begin quite as soon as he enters the church school.
He will help make scrap-books for the sick children
to look at. This helps the doctors and nurses. He can
go to see the crippled children and cheer them up.
He can give his money for milk for babies who need it
to keep well.
Soon he can take an interest in clean streets, in gar-
bage disposal, in campaigns against flies and mosquitoes
and rats. Gradually, bigger and more difficult problems
will present themselves: housing, sewage, and so on.
In these matters children have already been engaged in
great numbers. It is hard to see how a successful cam-
paign against flies or mosquitoes could be conducted
without children. In this and similar matters they have
a real contribution to make to community welfare.
But they will soon see that people of other countries
are sick, too, and need help. They need to be made
well not only for their own sake but also for the world's
health. If sickness is to go, it must go from every
HEALTH 199
corner of the earth. No spot must be left uncleansed
from which it can spread again.
And what a wealth of romance and adventure the
battle against disease has recorded; nurses and doctors
have risked and given their lives to make others well,
or to discover some treatment which could be used by
others to cure disease. One by one we are conquering
them: smallpox, typhoid, diphtheria, hydrophobia;
and the ravages of tuberculosis, plague, scarlet fever
are being slowly reduced and limited. What a splendid
war this is to engage in! Suppose we succeeded in enhst-
ing every child among the forces so intelligently and
determinedly arrayed against the forces of disease, it
wouldn't take long to blot it out forever from the life
of men. And this great Christian enterprise — to
make the world well — is one of those in which it is
most natural and easy to enUst the children. Does it
not grow right out of their tender care for their dolls
and their sick mothers or brothers and sisters? And
see how many of our finest men and women are already
doing this neighborly work. It is so completely human,
and yet so splendidly divine a task.
Let's begin at home and at the church school right
away. How would it do to have health standards for
both home and school and to try to hve up to them?
These would include, for the home, such matters as
these :
Home Hygiene.
Regular hours for meals, and promptness at meals.
Food chosen and prepared with scientific care. (This will mean,
for many, less time in the kitchen and more at the desk.)
DeUberate attempts to keep meals happy — if a member cannot
keep up the spirit let him eat alone.
200 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Regular bed time for all and kept by all, naturally varying according
to age and duties. Let this hour be set down in each member's
" rules " and there will be less difficulty about keeping it. Only
the most extraordinary occasions should justify exceptions.
Regular rising hours — letting the children's rest come at the early
part of the night and so permitting a rising hour early enough to
give time to perform all necessary household and personal duties
without wasteful and irritating haste.
A personal health regimen — cold sponge or hot bath according to
doctor's directions, exercises, water, etc; rest at noon, outdoor
exercise in afternoon; recreation faithfully allowed for; water
between meals (avoiding common drinking cup) ; proper clothing,
neither too much nor too Uttle; fresh air day and night; proper use
of Ught and care of eyes; periodic attention to teeth and examina-
tion for physical defects. Family health grades (A. B. C. D.)
might be devised, to be awarded each month to each member.
School Hygiene.
Building. One room for each class or curtained or screened space
for each class, the windows on the left of the pupils. Younger
pupils should be above the ground but on the first and second floors.
There should be easy exit arrangements in case of fire.
Ventilation and heat. If the janitor cannot attend to this vital
matter, a special officer should be appointed to see that rooms
are freshly aired and dusted, and that the temperature stays at
about 68° F. A small investment in thermometers will greatly
assist in this. Pupils can take care of their own rooms.
Hallways. Wide, light, unobstructed, if possible, and leading
straight to exit.
Cloak Rooms. Wraps should be hung up and not kept on during the
school session. If well aired and lighted cloakrooms are not
available, racks or hooks can be placed in hallways.
Toilets. Separate toilets for younger pupils on same floor as class
rooms. All toilets kept thoroughly clean and aired and well Hghted.
Water. Bubbhng fountain or paper cups, and not placed in toilets.
If spring water is used, the inverted bottle or else a clean tank
with faucet is needed to insure cleanliness of supply.
Furniture. Chairs and tables adapted to size of children. Kinder-
garten and Primary chairs * should vary from ten to fourteen inches
• The Mosher model is satisfactory.
HEALTH 201
in height, and the tables from twenty to twenty-five inches.
Feltoid tips on chairs and tables prevent noise and slipping.
Junior chairs and tables should also be smaller than for adults.
Each child should be seated comfortably, with feet securely on the
floor.
Facilities for outdoor and indoor play and exercise. If health is to
be given a central place in our scheme of religious education, the
conditions of health must be recognized in church buildings.
Few towns or cities have too many gymnasiums and playgrounds,
with proper bathing arrangements, and yet these are essential for
the health of children in cities and are a valuable aid in small
towns. Churches might easily cooperate in a plan for providing
adequate play faciUties for their children. It is a splendid thing
for children of all classes of society to play together imder religious
auspices.
A health program, individual and social. Each child should be
stimulated to keep at top-notch health and to develop as sym-
metrically and completely as nature will permit. Physical
eflficiency tests of not too technical a nature can be devised and
proper grading can be awarded regularly. Charts are helpful
incentives.
The schedules, even for one Sunday morning program, can give
adequate attention to the physical needs of the children by op-
portunities for relaxation, exercise and recreation. And during
the week there is abundant opportunity for definite emphasis on
the discipline and development of the body, which is the temple of
God. Whether by gymnasium work by the boys or folk-dancing
and esthetic dancing by the girls, which is the line of natural
interest, or by some other suitable methods, the place of health
and abounding vitahty in the Christian religion should be recog-
nized by every church.
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. At what hour does your church school meet? If in the after-
noon, how does the children's physical condition compare with their
early morning condition? If after church, what should be the na-
ture of the school session to offset the confinement of the church
service?
2. Is there a recess between church service and church school in
202 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
your church? What is done during this period if there be one?
Should there be one? How can it best be spent?
3. Observe some class closely to see which pupils are least re-
sponsive. Discover if you can whether this unresponsiveness is
due to physical conditions, such as overstudy, lack of nourishment,
adenoids.
4. Examine the ventilation of the rooms where the pupils meet.
Is it adequate? Is the air kept fresh and moving? What is the
temperature? Do children keep their wraps on? Change the air in
a close, hot room and watch for any change in the behavior of the
children.
5. How can your school best promote the health of the com-
munity?
CHAPTER XV
WORK AND PLAY
Psychological Relations
When Children Are Let Alone, They Play. What
is more, they play hard. They do things that require
great effort, long concentration, ingenuity, and co-
operation with others. At first their play is indistin-
guishable from other waking activities. They just
act in a variety of pleasing ways in response to the
strange and multiform stimuU that throng in upon their
sense organs. The world invites them to experiment,
to enjoy, to discover, to conquer — to play.
These virginal responses of animals are valuable in
many ways. The machinery of response is, of course,
largely inherited. What the animals do is naturally
what the race has been equipped to do by long struggle
and selection. In responding according to the dictates
of ancestral experience, the young are therefore begin-
ning their own experiment in living. They are getting
practise in the use of their equipment, making such
improvement in it as the length of infancy will allow
them. The higher up we go in the scale of development,
the more the offspring play, and the longer they play.
Their play activities give them an unquestionable ad-
vantage in the game of Hfe which they are thus learning
in the shelter of the domestic circle. They learn to
hunt without running the dangers of the real hunt.
They learn to fight with friends who have no destructive
203
204 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
intention, and so acquire the technique they will later
use with enemies. They learn to care for dolls in antici-
pation of the duties of motherhood. By the same
tendencies that lead their elders into the intricate opera-
tions of social life, buying and selling, building, hoard-
ing wealth or art, fighting, home-making, the children
are led to undertake similar activities. The form of the
activity is determined largely by the adult life which
they dehght in imitating; the impulse comes from the
deep-lying instincts to do these elemental things, and to
have a share in the common Hfe. If we did not de-
Uberately teach children anj^thing, we would find them
learning all our tricks, eagerly helping us, and begging
to be admitted into the mysteries of adulthood.
The Beginning of Work. About the only standard
we have of what real play is, then, is what children do
when they are free to do as they please. When the facts
of the unprotecting, undomestic larger world confront
them, when, by the authority of those who are superior
in strength they are required to do this or that, to go
to school, to fetch or carry, to practise or study, the
original area of care-free, undictated activity is infringed
upon. What is left is still " play," but the intruder,
who makes demands upon their time and strength, by
necessity or by authority, is called '^ work." The activi-
ties may indeed be identical. The child would have
hewn wood and drawn water and searched for the mean-
ing of the printed page because something within him
urged him to do so, and it would have been play. Now,
something without compels him to, and the deed be-
comes work.
In an undomesticated universe, where men are un-
sheltered from the hard blows of stern reaHty, compul-
WORK AND PLAY 205
sion — the compulsion of natural law — is always pres-
ent. In addition to these compulsions of natural law,
which make work necessary for the sake of liveUhood
and rest, there are man-made compulsions, that have
grown up as the result of men's efforts to meet these
natural compulsions in cooperation. Many of them
are in the form of laws, disobedience to which brings
punishment, just as disobedience to natural law brings
its own disastrous consequences. On obedience to
these laws, the life of society depends. They regulate
the way the individual members of society shall work
together for the protection of all. Other man-made
compulsions are unwritten laws, customs, usages, taboos,
etiquette, folk-ways, which have grown up more or less
unconsciously, and which are more or less binding on
individuals, being enforced by the approval and disap-
proval of the group. These determine even more
specifically and completely the way people shall behave,
and so make still further inroads upon the area of play.
Finally, the way by which men and women shall meet
the necessities of life by their own industry are fixed
chiefly by others. Industrial life is almost completely
mechanized. The worker is a cog in the machine. He
can no longer even meet nature's requirement in his
own way. If he would live he must work as some one
else directs, and for as long as some one else requires.
In the professions the situation is only sHghtly better.
Routine almost completely absorbs a person's time
whether he teaches, or practises medicine or law. Artists
are sometimes regarded with envy because they can
paint what they Uke and when they want to. So they
can, if they are willing to risk starving to death. But if
art is a mode of livelihood and not a form of recreation,
206 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
they must sell their product. And here again, society
dictates what shall be painted to keep the pot boiUng.
And picture the mechanical routine of housework!
An efficient woman soon masters the technique. She
may be free in decorating her home to her taste, once;
but once done, it is done. One cannot buy new furnish-
ings every year, as one's taste grows. And now even
babies must be brought up by rule.
What is Left of Play? Is this almost complete
mechanizing of life and almost complete elimination of
the area of free self-activity that is original with child-
hood, a desirable state of affairs? If so, let us continue
the good work, and oppose every attempt to establish
a Hving wage or to reduce the hours of labor, or to in-
crease facihties for the enjoyment of leisure, or to train
men to be independent contributing members of a de-
mocracy. Democracy protests against the usurping of
all a man's time by the compulsion of either necessity
or authority, and it seeks a way of organizing human life
so that the compulsion of necessity shall be reduced to a
minimum and the compulsion of authority be confined
to maintaining conditions that benefit all alike. The right
to play in a protected society, with which a child is born,
must not be denied to him as he grows up into citizen-
ship in a bigger world than the family. Society must
protect him from the fear of starvation and attack and
the piracy of profiteers, and so give him room to be some-
thing more than a pawn or a cog or a draught animal.
Providing for Botli Work and Play. However
we fix it, compulsions will remain. Food must be raised,
goods produced, and the necessary social machinery
kept running. Work must be done, and children must
therefore learn to work.
WORK AND PLAY 207
But there are two ways in which the play Hfe, or the
Ufe of free self -activity, can still be provided for. One
way is by transforming work itself so that it will be a
joy rather than a burden, an educating, rather than
a dehumanizing, force. The other is to make pro-
vision through recreation for the operation of the play
spirit.
Reform by Recreation. The second of these two
methods of relieving the situation is the one men nat-
urally seek. It represents the hne of least social re-
sistance. It interferes least with privilege — indeed it
is supported Uberally by those who accumulate profits
out of the work that precedes the recreation. Most of
our social reforms look in the direction of the better use
of leisure. Leisure is what men work for, from their
own point of view. Work is what men need recreation
for, from their employer's point of view. From both
points of view, desirable, that is, re-creating, refreshing,
recreation, is worth paying for.
The school is not an employer, although it has some-
times assumed the attitude of an employer toward the
children. Children must play so they can work better.
Recess, as the name impUes, is an interlude between
periods of school work. The interlude is not important
enough to have a name of its own. But this attitude is
rapidly changing, and the " play periods " and " play
methods " are indications of the desire to make educa-
tional use of the natural powers and interests with
which nature has so lavishly endowed children.
Transforming and Interpreting Work. Of the
possible and necessary transformation of work, this is
not the place to speak. That machines must be made
to fit men, and not men to fit machines, is obvious. Yet
208 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
only by the use of machines can enough goods be pro-
duced to allow for other activities than those of supply-
ing immediate necessities. And many other forms
of mechanical work must be done if leisure for play is
to be secured. But the mechanical work can be given
Hfe and interest by being made an intelHgible part of a
process of manufacture or management that is under-
stood as a whole by the machine-worker or the clerk
who does the isolated part. The work of getting a
living for the human race out of this old world is a
fascinating enterprise in which every man, woman and
child is interested, and in the control of which every
man, woman and child has a right to share. We must
educate for the world's work, as well as train for a
trade, if we are to humanize the process of getting
a living.
ReHgious education has a particularly important
function to perform here. The interpretation of work
as a vocation of service to the world, rather than as a
means of selfish plunder; the dignifying of work as a
worthy human enterprise, essentially ahke in its spirit
whether the activity be mining coal or operating for
appendicitis ; the beautifying of work by getting the
spirit of Christ into control of its human relations — all
these are tasks appropriate to Christian education and
should find a place in any course of study and training
that has for its purpose the making of Christians.
Balancing Work and Play. Could work be thus
transformed and understood, it would partake largely
of the spirit of play, for men would achieve free self-
realization through the consecration of their powers to
the common good. Even so, however, there would still
be much routine, much compulsory activity, in order
WORK AND PLAY 209
that this service might avoid the wastes of unorganized
or competing effort. There will still be the need for
recreation, even though men find ample opportunity
for self-expression in their work. One cannot work at
one thing indefinitely any more than one can play
at one thing without becoming exhausted. Under the
best conditions, change in activity will be necessary to
keep the human machine in good condition.
If this is true of the ideal society, how much more is
it true that recreation is necessary for society as now
organized! For the majority of people, recreation will
offer the only chance for free self-expression, for the
exercise of the higher powers of mind that are now denied
activity. We must train children, not only to see the
defects of our present way of doing things and to help
reconstruct our social order, but also to get along as
well as possible, meanwhile, with the social order as it
is. The more abundant Ufe can be begun now, without
waiting for the millennium. For most children, as they
grow up, the road to this more abundant fife will run
through the land of play, not of work. They will have
to turn from work to play to find both recreation and
their own highest life. Let us not doubly rob them, by
first denying to them the right to find Ufe in work and
then denying them the opportunity for wholesome use of
leisure. Training for any vocation is no more necessary
than training for the avocation, or leisure occupation,
that can best be coupled with it to make a complete
hfe of service and selfhood. Provision for appropriate
recreation for each vocation is just as much a social
function as provision for work. We must harness
man's nature that it may do the world's work in the
quickest, easiest, happiest way; and we must release
210 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
it again, when work is done, to wing its own unimpeded
way toward the heavenly City.
The Psychology of Recreation. Recreation is
the effort to win release from toil and fatigue and the
restraint of prescribed routine. Such release is essen-
tially individual. Its nature depends upon the physi-
ological condition of the person that needs recreation:
the condition, that is, that results from his predominating
activity, his state of health and his temperament. The
effort to secure this immediate and temporary release
is similar in many respects to the effort of rehgion to
secure ultimate and permanent release. The same de-
sire for satisfaction is present as constitutes the motive
of religion, only religion is concerned with more im-
portant and more lasting issues. Rehgion is mind at
work upon ultimate realities, supreme values, and the
relation of the self to its own destiny and the forces that
are supposed to determine that destiny. Rehgion ex-
hibits the same alternation between repression and
release as is found in recreation, only recreation is con-
tent with the fragmentary and passing joys that drown
care, that give us a taste of freedom, and send us back to
the daily conflict with a song in our hearts. The dif-
ference is, therefore, in the relative importance and
permanence of the interests and values that afford re-
lease, and in the completeness and depth of purpose with
which one seeks to escape into the '* large place." Conse-
quently, when the values sought in recreation become
more significant for the individual, more fundamental,
more social, recreation merges into religion. And
when rehgion tends by formalism or by decay, or in its
elementary stages, to seek temporary and fragmentary
values, it merges into recreation. In the beginning,
WORK AND PLAY 211
the two are not distinguishable, and certain modern
religious ceremonies can be regarded simply as sheer
recreation for many.
Let us see more particularly what is meant by this
merging of recreation and religion. It was suggested
that religion and recreation are in the same series of
facts, but nevertheless are not the same. At one end of
the series is recreation, with its interest in activities
that bring temporary rehef to the individual from
strain and fatigue. The temporary satisfactions are
those that are commonly sought, and they are sought
pretty much without regard to ultimate consequences
to self or others. But these activities frequently do
involve others. Individuals associate with one another
in their recreation. Mutual forbearance and accom-
modation take place. The fact of a social situation
sets going other interests than those of mere recreation
or individual rehef and relaxation. As this social
horizon enlarges and as the social accommodations
increase, recreation begins to lose something of its
immediate interest. And when the boundaries of
present social existence are broken through, and one
seeks relief from the temporal in an eternal social order
in which he finds his true self, we have recreation trans-
formed into rehgion. Somewhere in the series, it will
be hard to tell whether the activity is recreation or
rehgion. In certain pageantry, for example, undertaken
for rehgious purposes, to express an ideal and to raise
the general level of social hving, and yet functioning for
recreation for all who participate or observe, have we
rehgion or recreation or both? This hne of progress is
indicated in Figure 12.
But it is to be noted that the same transformation is
212 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
observable in the case of work. Work, too, becomes
religion, when its ends are socialized and idealized.
^ Qomrnoty ^
^ ^ (grouty ^ Tft-llf^'ion
Figure 12
Working at first for mere existence, for temporary and
self -centered ends, man comes in time to devote his
strength to tasks that have as their object the social
good. As the social horizon broadens and includes within
its circle a realm of moral permanence, work becomes
the labor of limitless love, the devotion to the Kingdom,
the duty of the citizen of the eternal Democracy. And
figure 13 shows this progress:
. V Cornrrfnn \ 5erv>ce. .
WorJ< Ground {,'^^h'gi or\ J
Figure 13
Now play also exhibits the same transformation into
the aspect of rehgion. Play, at first just the overflowing
of life in instinctive channels, the sheer joy of hving for
the sake of living, becomes gradually concerned with
other individuals, with ideas and fancies as well as
things. Life itself becomes a great game, or a great
opportunity for free and glorious achievement. And
when one comes to stake his all on the eternal issues, to
assume the mastery of his fate, to play in his imagination
with destiny and with the prophecy of a new world,
his play becomes rehgion, perhaps worship. Figure 14
represents the transition:
I .^ Com mow ^ M/ovsfr*> ,
T/a^ ^ Oroun<L ^ CReJigr'on)
Figure 14
Strictly speaking, in experience, we do not have a
straight work-Hne and a straight play-Hne paralleling
WORK AND PLAY 213
one another continuously. Rather is there a constant
alternation between the two, as represented in Figure 15 :
"Tfecreatron
Figure 15
The lower hne of work merely joins the troughs of the
waves, and the upper Hne of play joins the crests of the
waves, and the alternation or movement from one to
the other is " recreation." At the left or less developed
end of the series, recreation is on the level of work and
play; as is one's work and play, so is one's recreation.
The recreation is not an independent enterprise; it is
simply the pulsing alternation between the two enter-
prises of work and play. Engaged in meeting the neces-
sities of physical existence, the primitive individual
plays in crude and exciting ways suited to the process of
rest and refreshment that is required by his physiologi-
cal condition. ReUgion for him would be an effort al-
most wholly in the realm of duty, or else would be a
recreation characterized by the emotional excesses of
primitive festivals and revivals. But as his work be-
comes socialized and his play more refined, as he seeks
his true self in moral rather than physical conditions
and relations, so his recreation becomes an alternation
more within the area of religion — an alternation, if
you like, between worship and service. Worship serves
as the great recreator for those whose tasks are com-
pletely spirit uaH zed by rehgion.
What distinguishes the play-line from the work-line?
Children play at work and work at play. To one man
214 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
music is play. To another it is work. The difference
is not in the act. Nor is it in the man; for at one time
a man will find an act work which under other circum-
stances is play, for example, writing a book. The
difference is in the relation of the individual to the activ-
ity, or, in other words, in the function of the activity.
The performance of the biological functions which are
necessary for existence is work. The higher or preferen-
tial^ functions are the area of play, of choice, of enter-
prise. The alternation between the line of biological
functioning and preferential functioning is the recreative
process.
This does not mean that the exercise of instincts
connected with biological functions is not, at times,
play. Instincts are not functions. Indeed when the
biological functions are on the strictly physiological
level, the play of the individual is apt to involve basic
instincts of sex, gregariousness, eating, fighting, and the
nke. As the biological function extends to cover the
meaning of personal existence in a permanent spiritual
world, the play activity takes on the form of valuations,
choices, the joy of being intellectually alive, and aware
of the meaning of the existence for which one is laboring
both physically and morally.
Both recreation and rehgion, then, are movements
toward values that are conceived of in contrast with
present conditions. Rehgion, as a movement or process
of mind, may be thought of as a lesser and a greater
alternation. The lesser alternation is the alternation
between work on the rehgious level and worship on the
religious level. The greater alternation is between the
1 Cf. the discussion by G. A. Coe, A Proposed Clasaijicatio /Mental Fun«tiont,
Psychological Review, XXII, No. 2. March, 1915.
WORK AND PLAY 215
whole fact of physical and spiritual limitation, transiency,
fear, loneliness, and the whole fact of faith, or the as-
surance of hoped-for freedom, permanence, confidence
and ideal companionship. That from which recreation
is the release may be thought of as temporary fatigue,
external control, worry, care, routine, work. Rehgion
releases a man from the temporal into the eternal.
Recreation releases a man from work into play. That
toward which play moves is free creation, admitting no
limitations save such as are self-imposed. Play and
worship are of the same spirit, therefore, and merge into
one another in reUgious drama, art, music and pageantry;
and play and service, likewise, converge in all sorts of
philanthropic and political activity that is undertaken
for the joy of the work and which contributes to the
common good.
As work and play grow into the activities and moods
of reUgion, so the work and play lines converge, and the
alternations become less extreme. In the end, work
and play will be identical, because both will have arrived
at the same goal, the complete and unified self, as is
suggested in Figure 16:
Figure 10
We must have recreation as long as we must work.
But we work for the achievement of a world where play
will be the normal activity of mind, and in true play we
find a foretaste of the eternal.
216 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. Secure time schedules of the way children spend their time
on Saturdays, holidays or vacations.
2. How does the procedure in kindergarten or first grade differ
from what you would call play?
3. Compare the games of five-year-olds with those of nine-year-
olds. What have these plays in common?
4. Is there anything injurious to character in play? List chil-
dren's games in two sets, those that help and those that hinder
Christian growth.
5. Ought children to work? What are the effects of various kinds
of work as you have observed them?
CHAPTER XVI
WORK AND PLAY (Continued)
The Educational Use of Work, Play and Rec-
reation
The Value of Recreation. Our analysis of work and
play and of their relation to each other has brought
to our attention two significant problems: first, the
relation of recreation to work — the kind of recreation
best suited to maintain efficiency, together with proper
training therefor; and second, the relation of recrea-
tion to life — the kind of recreation best suited to assure
an individual the fullest self -development, together with
proper training therefor.
Psychologically, we have said, recreation is release
from some kind of restraint. Restraint may be brought
about by either desirable or undesirable activity. Play
itself under our physical hmitations may require an
antidote. The essential change, therefore, is not from
any one kind of activity to any other kind, but from a
given activity to an activity that brings satisfying release.
Whether or not this or that leisure occupation is recrea-
tional will depend, therefore, on what precedes it, and
upon the state of mind of the individual who partici-
pates in it. Shakespearean drama may be recreation
for the cultured woman of leisure. It may be hard work
for the dramatic critic, or for the " tired business man.''
Baseball may afford satisfying release for the mechanic
in an ammunition factory. The bookkeeper in the same
factory may prefer dancing or just " fanning." What is
217
218 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
recreation for the seaman on reaching port grows weari-
some before he sails again; he seeks fresh contrasts to
excite and entertain. He may even long to get back
to his ship to get relief from the strain of shore life.
Whether or not one can find recreation in this or that
activity depends then upon the individual's experience
of satisfying contrast and release in this activity, and
upon the mood in which he finds himself. Whether or
not this or that recreation activity is desirable from the
point of view of the individual's welfare depends upon
the effect this activity has upon him. Drink may afford
a satisfying release from the strain of worry. This gives
it recreational value to many. But the consequences
are too serious to justify its use for this purpose. Gam-
bling is undoubtedly a splendid recreation to many a
man who is in need of emotional excitement, or who has
acquired the habit of constant excitement in his work.
But its use as a form of recreation is influenced by the
effects upon the gambler. We must find for each an
activity that will both bring the required release and
have valuable, not disastrous, consequences.
In general it may be said that individuals who have
acquired definite interests outside of their work find
recreation in the pursuit of these interests. The man
who hkes to make furniture turns to this handicraft in
his leisure, whether he is a teacher or a mechanic, and
finds in designing and building cabinets and chairs the
sort of release that satisfies. Those who have no such
well developed interest, however, are forced to depend
on others for their recreation. What they do will
depend upon the nature of their work. If they have an
interesting occupation which affords scope for initiative
and the satisfaction of ambition, the recreation sought
WORK AND PLAY 219
will very likely be of the kind to stimulate the incipient
activity of strong instincts, as in the drama, vaudeville,
baseball fanning, dancing, reading, courtship, cards.
Entertainment which can be passively witnessed and
which will not be too exciting is desired. Some, of
course, turn to sport: athletic games, hunting, fishing,
and so on; but these usually have a well developed
interest in these directions which thus finds outlet after
being restrained from activity by the confinement of
work. Those who are engaged in mechanical work,
the repetition of the same physical or mental operation
for hours at a stretch, or for whom work has become
mere routine requiring no mental effort or intelHgent
control, find recreation in excitement and emotional
experiences. They have been irritated by constant
repetition of one kind of response. They are ready to
explode not in the specific direction afforded by a hobby
or well developed creative interest, but in all directions.
Diffuse emotional excitement is therefore what they
prefer: the movie, dancing, flirting, the noise and Hghts
and loud comedy of the amusement park, drinking,
gambling, all that brings laughter, shouting, crying, and
mental excitement. When such emotional experiences
are unavailable, there is chafing, depression, instabihty
or dulness.^
Many find in religion, as we have seen, an antidote to
almost any kind of work. Religion is protean in form
1 If it be true, as W. B. Cannon holds, in his Bodily Changes in Pain, Hunger,
Fear and Raije, that adrenalin is secreted under conditions of emotional excite-
ment, and that adrenalin acts as an anti-toxin to the toxins of physiological fatigue,
then this accounts for the recreating effect of emotional excitement for those who
are muscularly fatigued. The mentally fatigued, however, should have non-
emotional recreation, inasmuch as emotional excitement, when not needed for
recuperation, will provide an oversupply of physiological stimulant and induce
vascular and digestive derangements, as in the case of fear.
Under conditions of adult life, joyous excitement seems to provide a much needed
stimulant for the maintenance of mental and physical health. Readers are re-
ferred to books listed in Appendix II, Nos. 114, 115, 116, 125.
220 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
and satisfies the desire of every living thing. The young
people's meeting, for example, is an opportunity for
religious emotion, for courtship, for the exercise of leader-
ship and initiative, for the adventurous participation
in prayer, or the display of one's powers as a speaker,
for singing, and laughter and love. Finding such things
better provided for elsewhere, young people today,
especially young men, tend to omit the prayer meeting
from their weekly schedule. There is not sufficient
" recreation " here for them.
Childhood Recreation. What sort of recreation
do children need to balance up the day's work in which
society has engaged them? This will all depend upon
the character of their school work, and of any other
tasks which society or nature may require of them.
The newer schools are giving children a chance to be
individuals rather than cog-wheels. They do not be-
come so fatigued by school. Recreation or rehef from
the more rigid types of work, such as drill in arithme-
tic, is provided for in the school itself. Even so, however,
the whole system is a constraint, from which the child
bursts forth with joy, just as he returns to it with joy.
But any kind of play will do as a mere recreation. Let
alone, the child, when released, will pursue interests
begun in school, or will revert to the biological plays:
running, fighting, climbing, imitating adults, building,
housekeeping. He needs a place to play more than
anything else, and will get recreation out of the most
meager equipment. With almost inexhaustible interests,
he usually has no difficulty in knowing what to do with
his leisure.
His initiative, however, may run the gamut of his
games and be at a loss what to do next. Or he may have
WORK AND PLAY 221
so many budding interests that they interfere with one
another. Sometimes he has so many toys or possibiK-
ties of action, he cannot choose among them, and is in the
state of mind of the ass who found himself half-way
between two hay mows, and starved to death before he
could decide which one to go to. This is the typical
Sunday afternoon problem: " Mama, what can I do?"
It comes from the six-year-old and from the fourteen-
year-old ahke. Probably what these children need is
not recreation but work. They are sick of recreating.
The natural alternation between work and play is
interrupted by the Sunday schedule. They want some-
thing given them to do. They want a task. They need
to be set going. The social mechanism that keeps them
going during the week has stopped running, so they stop
running too. The remedy is a social mechanism of the
family circle developed for Sunday with the children's
leisure in mind. Let the family as a whole do something,
an excursion, reading aloud, a '^ Sunday afternoon club "
in which all take part, and there will be no requests for
" something to do."
The use of recreation as an educational force is com-
ing to be widely recognized. The work of the Play-
ground and Recreation Association of America, the
increase of supervised play in schools, the building of
gymnasiums and club rooms in connection with churches,
the astonishing spread of Scouting and Hke movements,
the organization of recreation in and around the training
camps, the appearance of many books on play, the use
of the festival, the pageant and the drama in connection
with both public and church schools — all these things
bear witness to the awakening of our people to the signifi-
cance of play as a means of education both for work and
222 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
for leisure. If play is a function of childhood, work is
a function of adulthood. As part of play is to anticipate
adult functions, so children naturally play at " work."
But, granted the necessity of work, recreation is also an
adult function. Children, therefore, play at grown-up
recreation, and so develop interests that will subse-
quently be pursued in hours of leisure. In their play
we must help them to anticipate adult experience
in all its phases, to learn control and cooperation,
to learn the value of a purpose and the satisfaction
of creation.
It is our duty, therefore, to do everything we can to
promote the recreation movement, and to provide for
children and young people the sort of play that will
develop, not destroy, their powers.
Work and Education. But " playing at " work
is not working. Should children really work? Should
the attitudes and consequences characteristic of real
work be taught them? Should they always be com-
pletely sheltered from ultimate consequences, from the
impingement of social obUgations? The school life
makes provision in the experience of the child for what,
to an adult, is work. Whenever children are allowed to
make anything of marketable value and to sell it for
American money, this is work. If they can buy with
their legitimate savings or earnings in the open market
and take the consequences of their judgment, this is
work. If they can keep an account of their income and
expenditures and have their accounts audited, this is
work. If they could be responsible to the state for
certain social duties, such as raising vegetables and
flowers, sweeping house-paths, shoveling snow from
walks, policing playgrounds and schools, making equip-
WORK AND PLAY 223
ment for younger children, printing church bulletins,
caring for certain phases of school government — if
they could be responsible to the state for such matters,
be given absolute control, and be subject to no one but
the elected officers of government among whom they
would be represented,^ we would have here not " play
at " work, but work itself, by which the children would
be trained in the attitudes as well as the activities of
work. The actual deeds would be the same, but the
spirit of work would transform them into true social
functions, for the children would be doing work by which
they would be educated, not work by which they are
prevented from being educated, as is the case in factories
and mines and sweatshops.
In religious education there must be provision for
programs both of work and play. There must be real
religious work and play at forms of religious work into
which the children shall grow. And there must also be
recreation or relief from the work that society imposes
properly or improperly on childhood.
The Program of Work. The church school should
of course set its face against " child labor " and all
forms of exploitation of childhood by employers, schools
and parents. The children themselves can be enlisted
in the effort to secure for every child adequate op-
portunities for education and health. The school should
also promote such public-school and community move-
ments as will recognize the true place of children in
society and will provide them with suitable work. In
this, too, the cooperation of the children themselves
is of great value.
' See article by G. A. Coe, on The Functiont of Childrtn in Religious Education
for February, 1918, XIII, 1. p. 26.
224 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
The preparation of a program of work for the children
of the local church would require an analysis of church
functions and the assignment, to children of different
ages and abilities, of functions appropriate to them and
of educational value. Looking after class affairs such as
the treasury, the attendance records, the causes of ab-
sence, the securing of new pupils, the preparation of a
class exhibit; participation in community betterment
or individual relief work; the performance of school
duties such as the choir, ushering, the bulletin boards,
care of materials, participation in the leadership of
assemblies, school government, the management of
school festivals and picnics, preparing an exhibit; the
performance of church duties, ushering, printing, mes-
senger service, decorations, care of property, attention
to shut-ins, assistance in surveys and campaigns, sing-
ing in choir — all these and many other necessary activi-
ties could be graded and distributed among the children
so that every child would take his turn at a social duty
every year. Training for specialized forms of service
would of course be a part of the work of young people,
and should be recognized as just as much '' work " as
singing in the choir.
The Program of Play. When play is "provided
for,^' or a program of play is " prepared,*' play loses
something of its native spontaneity and its value as a
form of complete self-expression. A true program of
play would be a gap in the day's work in which each child
could do exactly as he pleased. At all events, to main-
tain anything of its spirit, play must be voluntary, not
required, and children should be allowed scope for both
initiative and choice.
There are many activities in which children are too
WORK AND PLAY 225
young to assume full responsibility but which they
enjoy playing at. Dramatizing, both spontaneous and
formal, can be utilized to give insight into many future
activities as well as to make vivid a Biblical event, or a
mission field. Here belong church pageants which por-
tray the work of the church or of some related insti-
tution,^ as well as the childish imitations of church
services, representation of stories of Red Cross work,
the " pioneering " of Boy Scouts, the domestic dis-
cipline of Camp Fire Girls, the chivalry of the Knights
of King Arthur, the Indian lore of the Woodcraft
League.
But of equal importance are all games that afford
opportunity for learning elemental forms of self-control
and cooperation. The play spirit, the idea of sportsman-
ship, the " rules of the game," habits of courtesy and
forbearance and comradeship are all learned in the art of
playing cooperative and competitive games, where in
the heat of friendly strife and individual strain, in the
joy of physical activity and the excitement of conflict,
the habits are built up that make the difference between
clean and dirty playing. In situations of Uke character
these habits will work, and, as men and women play
games all their Uves, this training is of fundamental
importance. Without special effort to form ideals and
habits of true sportsmanship in other activities also,
however, there is no assurance that the boy who learns
to play fair in baseball will also play fair in business
relations. Fair play in work must be learned in the
'' program of work " by working fairly.
The Program of Recreation. Recreation as we
have seen is not distinguished in its activities from either
» See A Pageant of the Church by Misses Stone, and Forman, Y. W. C. A. Press.
226 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
play or work. Play is the customary form of recreation
for children. It affords the needed change from the
physical constraint of the classroom and the social
restraint of " duties/' The kind of recreation that is
provided for each age will depend upon what else the
children of each age are doing. Recreation is a balanc-
ing occupation, maintaining equilibrium. As it has to
be continued through life, it must not only be engaged
in for its own sake but must be prepared for. Children
should develop interests that will afford recreation as
they grow older. Many a man's life has been saved by
an absorbing interest in stones, or bugs, or birds, or
flowers, or camp-craft, or photography, started in youth.
Some of course are capable of beginning such interests
late in Hfe, but for most people these avocations and
hobbies will be started in youth or not at all.
But it is not only the grown person that is fortunate
in having a hobby. The high-school or college boy or
girl is provided with a splendid safeguard against many
temptations who has some regulating interest, such as
dogs, or electricity, or music, or art, with which to
occupy his mind during leisure hours. And the boy or
girl at work is sadly handicapped who has no big, com-
pelhng, creative activity to turn to when work is done.
We must begin early to start going many lines of interest
in the hope that at least one will stick, which will later
provide suitable relief from whatever work the young
man or woman may choose.
This training for recreation may be a part of the
child's work or play or recreation. Out of the study of
botany, geology, biology, physics and all the rest come
many avocational interests in the pursuit of which a
man finds his freedom and joy. Out of games and sports
WORK AND PLAY 227
of youth, many a person develops lasting athletic
interests. Out of organized recreational activities, Uke
the Boy or Girl Scouts, come general interests such as
camp-craft, which endure as forms of adult recreation.
Our program of recreation, therefore, must be antici-
pated for each age by preparation in the years preceding,
as well as organized for any age with reference to the^
dominant work activities of that age. For the younger
children, recreation may well be merely free play.--
For boys and girls, the usual games and plays may be an
insufficient antidote to the school work, and such or-
ganized recreations as are provided in the Pioneers,
Brownies, Boy Rangers, will be needed. And in adoles-
cence play will be almost wholly confined to the few
hours available for recuperation from work, and will,
therefore, be almost wholly determined by the nature of
the work. Segregation of the sexes must be counter-
balanced by mixed parties; study, by scouting or
athletic sports; prescribed reading or prescribed book-
keeping, by creative activities in the writing and giving
of plays; mechanical work, by dancing, music, scouting,
athletics, and such creative work as can be done.
For each age there will be work and play. As work
gradually increases and encroaches on play, care must
be taken that sufficient time is left for the recreative
effects of play, and that play properly counterbalances
and relieves work. Programs of play then become
chiefly programs of recreation, through which the
individual is not only physically recuperated for more
work, but also spiritually enriched by engaging in activi-
ties of value in themselves as the means of full and free
self-expression.
228 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION
1. Which do children enjoy more, supervised or unsupervised
play?
2. Suggest a graded program of work for children by which they
shall perform a real service to the community or church or home, and
be trained for future work in the Christian democracy. Help will
be found in Graded Social Service for the Sunday School, by W. N.
Hutchins.
3. Suggest a graded program of play for children, by which they
shall play at important rehgious activities in which they shall later
engage, and by which they shall secure training in Christian sports-
manship. Help will be found in Play and Education, by Joseph Lee;
Education hy Plays and Games, by G. E. Johnson; The Dramatic
Instinct in Education, by E. W. Curtis; The Dramatization of Bible
Stories, by EHzabeth E. Miller.
4. Suggest a graded program of recreation and training for recrea-
tion, providing for the proper use of play as an antidote to work
and as an opportunity for self-realization. Help will be found in
the books just named and also in Recreation 'and the Church, by
H. W. Gates.
CHAPTER XVII
CHARACTER
Discipline for Democracy
" I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul."
— Henley.
Character and Democracy. The preceding discus-
sions have tended toward this conclusion: Character
is not a mechanical way of doing things imposed by
society upon individuals. Neither is it a sort of super-
social will which an individual imposes upon society.
It is rather a deliberate responsiveness to social need,
a responsiveness which looks toward a social ideal that
has been consciously adopted by the individual as his
own. Such responsiveness is not original in man's
nature. Neither can it be forced upon a man by law
or custom. Law and custom alone would tend to make
the individual mechanically responsive, not deliberately
and freely responsive, to the needs of society. One who
is trained merely to obey orders has no character at all.
He is only a tool, a machine. Democracy is a theory of
character as well as a theory of social organization.
The two things go together. The individual is the
sort of person the state allows him to become. The
state is the kind of state that its individual members
make it. Autocratic forms of social organization can-
not allow individual freedom, or character, among sub-
jects. A state whose members possessed " character "
would not be an autocracy. Democracy is character in
229
230 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
terms of social organization. Character is democracy
in terms of its individual components. They are two
aspects of the identical thing. Democracy, except as
an ideal, is not something which exists in the world
independently of the character of its individual members.
Nor is character something which exists in individuals
independently of their life in social groups. Men
achieve character only by living together, and by exactly
the same process and at the same time they are a so-
ciety or social group. If the individuals in the group
live together by exploiting one another, or by submitting
to some external authority, or by training some members
to obey and others to rule, we have neither character
nor democracy. But if they Hve together by dehberately
cooperating for the common good, submitting to the
common will, and training all to serve, each according
to his abihty, we have both character and democracy.
Christianity and Democracy. Christianity is com-
ing to throw the weight of its influence on the side of
democracy, although its history has not been free from
the theory and practise of autocracy. Jesus revolted
against the spiritual autocracy of his day in the interest
of spiritual democracy. His followers soon set up an
ecclesiastical autocracy that survives now as the Roman
Church. At the time of the Reformation there came a
reaction against this absolutism of the church in the
interest of ecclesiastical democracy. And later, as part
of the same movement, in France and England and
America, there came a reaction against the divine right
of kings and princes in the interest of poUtical democracy.
None of these movements has completed its course.
ReHgious customs, religious organizations, states, still
largely dominate individuals, preserving the ancient
CHARACTER 231
order of autocracy, and consistently opposing all move-
ments for the development of self -directing character.
And now, in these latter days, revolt is rapidly spreading
against plutocratic control of the processes of industry
in the interest of industrial democracy. This move-
ment cannot be dissociated from the rest, because of
the interlacing of all the forces of autocracy, spiritual,
ecclesiastical, poUtical and industrial. One after an-
other of these revolts against authority is being es-
poused by Christianity. More and more clearly the
lines are being drawn between the power of privilege in
high places and the power of the people. More and more
clearly the issues of the great World War have been
stated in terms of democracy against autocracy, and
over the whole world, these two fundamental forces
are being arrayed against each other in more and more
open conflict. Whichever way we turn, the fight is on.
Education and Democracy. Shall we educate for
democracy or for autocracy? Shall we develop indi-
viduals whose function it is to direct themselves by
the Ught of a social ideal toward which they freely
and gladly move, or shall we develop individuals whose
function it is to obey other individuals so that these
other individuals may reap the fruits of their obedient
and docile labor? Machines, or human beings — we
must choose which we shall make of our children. If
we are free to choose, or are not already so well regi-
mented by our own training as to be incapable of choice,
we shall of course choose democracy. Wherever there
is real choice there is democracy already, and our con-
clusion is foregone.
Self-Direction. If democracy be the outcome we
desire for our educational process, we shall have to pro-
232 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
vide for certain elements in that process which will make
for the development of character, of deliberate re-
sponsiveness to the social need in the direction of a social
ideal. And if we are to characterize further our social
ideal as " Christian," we shall have to add to these
fundamental elements whatever we understand by the
Christian standard of character and of society. All
through our educational process, from the cradle to
graduation from school, we shall have in mind the self-
directing individual who forms an integral part of a
democratic society, increasingly controlled by Christian
motives. To say that a child has a right to self -direct ion
from the beginning seems rank absurdity. Let us chal-
lenge our thought by putting it even more strongly:
a child has the duty of self -direction from the beginning
if he is to be a member of a democratic society! It is
no less absurd to say a man is not fit to be a member of a
democratic society because society says to him, ** You
shall not drink intoxicating hquors," than it is to say
a child is not fit to be a member of a democratic
society because society, through the agency of the family,
says, " You shall not eat what will prevent your being a
healthy child. '^ It is just a matter of degree. As
rapidly as possible, within the field where choice per-
mits a process of learning to take place, choice must be
made, else the power to choose will be distorted or never
developed. As a matter of fact, the field of self -direction
is considerable, even with a baby. He gurgles and coos
and moves his arms around, following his mother with
his eyes until he can follow her with his feet. Within
limits set by the good of the group of which he is a part,
he has his own way, playing as he pleases. But the
range of choice might be considerably extended in the
►^
CHARACTER 233
average home, and the children might have a far larger
share in the determination of the family life, by which
they would learn a vast deal about practical democracy.
Only by having an experience of social responsibility
can children contrast the effects of cooperating and of
failing to cooperate, and so learn to direct themselves.
If they are always under the autocratic control of
parents, submitting to them in every last detail when
an issue arises, they will be well trained for submission
to the authority of other forms of privilege later on.
This story is told by a prominent American educator
about his son, a lad of eight years. The boy said one
day, '* Papa, you and mamma are just tyrants. I
always have to do just as you say." The father said
he was sorry he felt that way about it and explained
that mother and father were older and knew best what
was good for little boys, and only wanted him to do what
was good for him. " That doesn't make any difference.
I have to do as you say." " Well," said the father,
" you know you don't have to do as I say. You really
can do just as you please." " Oh, can I? " said the boy.
" Why yes," said the father. *' See, here's my pocket-
book. You take it, and do just as you please, and
I'll not stop you." With a whoop the boy ran upstairs
and began to pack his suit-case to go somewhere. The
father began to be a bit nervous, but he decided he'd
see it through. Pretty soon, the boy came to his night
clothes, and then he must have thought of how lone-
some it would be to go to bed at night without his
mother, for he came softly downstairs again and said to
his father, " I think I'd better take mother with me."
And that was the end of his independence. He had dis-
covered his place in the family group not by being
234 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
" shown his place " but by tr3dng to fill a place too big
for him.
Only in real social experience can the knowledge of
one's real social function be obtained, and just to the
degree that this knowledge is one's own will one possess
character, and be a democratic citizen rather than the
subject of an autocrat. Self-knowledge is essential to
character.
Self- Knowledge. Many have feared that knowl-
edge of one's own abiUty or inability to perform social
functions was appropriate only to adolescence, and that
children should be unconsciously inducted into the habits
of correct behavior much as a sapling grows, it knows
not how, into the great tree. But children grow up in a
society which automatically approves and disapproves,
and which stamps its sanction upon certain acts called
" good " and its veto on certain acts called " bad." A
child cannot help knowing that some kinds of acts, if
known, will be called good, and some bad, and that the
same words will be appKed to himself. This is the begin-
ning of his notion of right and wrong. Any puppy can
learn as much by proper punishments and rewards and
will show the same signs of a guilty conscience that a
child does when detected in the act called " bad." The
unconscious type of moraUty leaves children pretty much
on the puppy level, and does them and society gross
injustice. It defeats our purpose to educate for democ-
racy by denying the child the right and the duty to be a
human being.
The opposite of this method is to help the child to a
real knowledge of himself and of his motives and pur-
poses so that he knows "goodness," not in terms of a word
arbitrarily applied to some acts and not to others, but
CHARACTER 235
in terms of the results of his behavior; in particular,
the effects which lead others to approve or disapprove
of it. Instead of constantly interposing its judgment
between a child and the results of his acts, and so pre-
venting him from forming judgments on the basis of
facts, society must let the child see the thing through and
so arrive at the same source of knowledge that his elders
have. Obviously we must not let a child kill himself by
experimenting too soon in a compUcated environment
for which nature did not equip him. But experiment
he must, and as widely as safety permits. Very likely,
also, if we take the comfort of children into account,
as well as the comfort of adults, many customs concern-
ing the " proper " behavior of children will be changed.
Democracy requires mutual forbearance, and adults
as well as children will have to yield to the common
interest. Adults as well as children need discipUne for
democracy.
Self -Discipline. We have spoken of self-knowledge
and self-direction as essential to democratic character.
The kind of discipUne a democratic society will provide
is the kind that will lead as rapidly as possible to self-
discipline. As soon as the individual, whether he be six
or fifty, learns how to direct his own conduct toward
social ends, and, therefore, to discipline himself, the
discipline of society ceases. Society steps in at the point
where an individual has not yet achieved control of
himself, and helps toward self-control. Or, to put it
the other way around, society steps out from control
just as rapidly as the individual learns to control him-
self; hut it gives him every chance to learn. That is, it
provides him with the kind of discipline that will emanci-
pate him. Children desire this kind of discipline.
236 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
Frequently they are glad to be freed by punishment or
encouragement from the dominance of some mood or
desire. When a child is asked why he does not behave,
a frequent answer is, " Because I can^t," and, unless
the misdeed is really trivial, the child will welcome the
means that will lead to self-control.
Social Control for Self-Discipline. The agent of
this social control which looks toward the freeing of
the individual from external constraint is sometimes the
family, sometimes the class, sometimes the club, or the
unorganized play groups. But the control is exercised
for the sake of the larger society only when some one is
present who can act for the larger society, and mediate
its authority. This the parents and teachers do, some-
times well and sometimes poorly. But when social
discipline is necessary to preserve the life of the group,
it is not the parentis or teacher's private will that rules,
but the will of society. This the individual child should
be made aware of as soon as he can understand any sort
of social control. It is an interesting question how far
this social will back of the parent or teacher should be
thought of as the will of the ideal society, or the will of
God, and how far it should be regarded as the will of the
state. So far as the will of the state is expressed in
laws, it is generally easy to answer this question. The
ideal social will and the will of the state are here fre-
quently identical. But in the case of conduct outside
of existing law, or in the case of ideals of conduct which
contradict legal standards, the question is more difficult
to answer. The present state law may contradict the
demands of an ideal society just as many of the old
" blue laws '' of Pennsylvania and Connecticut contra-
dict modern standards. But the state itself is in the
\
CHARACTER 237
process of becoming more democratic, and therefore
more moral, and must consequently be supported at its
present level as well as urged on to higher levels.
There should be no hesitation in training children to
obedience to the ideal world society, if we are sincere
in our intent to gain the conditions of peace. No disci-
pline for any kind of autocracy will be tolerable. De-
mocracy will one day come to its own in church and
state and industry, and therefore in the school, and back
of every teacher and every parent will be the will of the
ideal society.
The New Character. This idea of character and
the method of its achievement will lead to many changes
in our educational practise. The most notable change
will probably be in the direction of a clearer definition
of character in terms of the intelhgent control of social
activity, and the effort to measure achievement in
character. By observation and experiment we shall
have to discover what the standards of moral achieve-
ment are for each stage of childhood. In terms of actual
behavior in actual situations, what is it to be " good "
at a given age? How Christian can a child of six really
be? And how much progress can he be expected to
make in a year? What good habits should he have?
What characteristic childish " faults " should he be
able to overcome? How much responsibihty can safely
be placed on his shoulders? How responsive can he be
expected to be to the needs of others? How much can
he comprehend and desire of the " ideal society "?
These things we should know just as we know how
much progress he can be expected to make in arithmetic
and writing and language. And when we have succeeded
in stating the characteristic achievements of a six-year-
\
238 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
old, we must help him to see these possible achievements
objectively, as things which he is expected to measure
up to, and he must know whether or not he is making
progress in the business of social intercourse just as he
must know whether or not he is making progress in
school. He must be in a position to measure himself
by reference to some standard, if he is really to make
intelhgent progress in the achievement of character.
Doubtless many will object that this is pharisaism, and
that such knowledge of one's " goodness " would lead
to insufferable priggishness. That depends on how we
define " goodness/' If we define it in the individualistic
sense of superiority, we shall get intolerance and pride.
If we define it in the sense of being equipped to take one's
full part in the world's work, and of actually taking that
part, not thinking about it, we will get humihty com-
bined with confidence. If we define our standards in
terms of good and bad as quahties to be achieved, and
if the performance of certain deeds is accompanied by
approval for the quality, then we shall have the self-
conscious, self-righteous prigs we all dishke. But if we
define these standards in terms of deeds and results,
both social results and the mastery of self, we shall have
an objective character, that knows itself, and yet is
unconscious of its own " virtue." Its worth will be
measured by its contribution to the good of others, not
by its happiness or its possession of abstract qualities.
This will require a revision of our vocabulary of ethics.
We lack words with which to describe these social
achievements. We have only the words that are asso-
ciated with individualistic ethics and a " faculty "
psychology, such as honesty, generosity, courtesy,
patience. These words measure abstractions, not con-
CHARACTER 239
Crete achievements, though they may help, to be sure,
in the conquering of special faults or weaknesses. In
their stead we need such terms as " cooperation,"
" health," " work," " playing the game," " according
to rule," " justice " (in the sense of an objective rela-
tionship), " friendship," " peace," together with princi-
ples of conduct in terms of actual deeds, such as " love
one another," " play fair," '' lend a hand," " think of
others first," " be a good sport," " in everything give
thanks," rather than '' be kind," " be cheerful," " be
good," ^' be honest," and the Hke. In any case, the
need is that the interest and the ideal be centered in the
deed and its purpose rather than in the quality of
character the deed is supposed to manifest. Such a
practise would make it entirely practicable for us to
discuss our deeds as freely and unconsciously as people
used to discuss their " experience " in the old-fashioned
prayer meeting. We would confer with one another on
the interests of the Kingdom, each reporting his share of
work done, whether that consisted in helping a blind
old man across the street, giving a dollar to the Red
Cross or taking the minutes of a committee meeting.
Without some such frank and open discussion of our
mutual work in the world, it is hard to see how we shall
ever bring to bear upon one another the pressure of
opinion and interest that is necessary if we are to be as
successful in organizing the forces of Christian de-
mocracy as we are in organizing business and poUtics.
Something must be done to give currency and vigor to
the Christian ideal in practical social relations. Why
not try talking about it, as Jesus did, and getting others
also to experiment with it, as he did, lifting it out of the
limbo of the undiscussable and the fantastic by our own
240 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER
demonstration of its naturalness and its success? "Char-
acter " will become popular when it ceases to be the mark
of the Pharisee and is recognized as the prerogative of
all who seek, each in his own way, to make
"... justice roll down Uke waters.
And righteousness as a mighty stream."
APPENDIX I
Things Children Do and Sat
In cases where this book is used as a text, teachers
will sometimes find it of help in the interpretation of
childhood to read with the class some of the famous
poems of childhood. Most of these that are suggested
are found in The Home Book of Verse for Young People. ^
Rabindranath Tagore, The HerOj^ Playthings,^ Voca-
tion?
R. L. Stevenson, My Shadow, Young Night Thought,
The Land of Counterpane.
Eugene Field, Seein^ Things.
J. W. Riley, The Raggedy Man, A Boy^s Mother,
H. S. Cornwell, The Sunset City.
Gabriel Setoun, The World's Music.
Laurence Alma-Tadema, Playgrounds.
WiUiam Allingham, The Fairies.
PART I
STORIES BY AN EIGHT-YEAR-OLD GIRL
This story was written without suggestion or help.
The spelling and punctuation are not reproduced except
where they enhance the effect.
ROSE MALAND STORIES
30 Chapters
THE ADVENTURES OF ROSE MALAND
A Lovely Story for Little Folks
» B. E. Stevenson, editor. Published by Holt.
'In The Cre«centjAfoon,|Macmillan.
241
242 APPENDIX I
Contents
Rose's Broken Arm and Cut Head 1
Rose at Breakfast and Her Birthday 7
Rose's Birthday Presents 10
Rose's Meeting Isabel 12
Rose Playing with Mary 14
Rose's Birthday Party and the Afternoon 16
Isabel Asking to be Forgiven 18
Conversation between Isabel and Rose 19
Getting Ready for the Party 20
CHAPTER I
ROSE MALAND STORIES
Rose Maland's Bkoken Arm and Cut Forehead
Rose Maland was a happy, good little girl. One day she was hav-
ing a race with Isabel Clifford and Mary Parline and Prudy Conro
at school. One, two, three, go, said the teacher, and off they went
like a flash of light. Isabel knew Rose would win. She was de-
termined to win and get the prize. So, just as Rose was going to
give a dash, Isabel put out her foot to trip her. Rose fell with a
scream. She lay SENSELESS.
The teacher bent over her pale, bleeding forehead. It was cut
open. Miss Helen picked her up and carried her in school. The
girls held up their hands in horror at the mean trick. Isabel, you
are dismissed from school, said the angry teacher. Isabel sneaked
in silence. The girls gave the cry of cheat. Rose lay in her little
white bed a long time. The doctor worked busily over the broken
arm and cut head. Rose's teacher came to see her and gave her
lots of flowers. It was her birthday and the first day she got up and
got dressed. The nurse had to hold her up because she was a httle
dizzy from being in bed two months. And still she had her arm in a
sHng and her head was still bandaged and was very sore. And
when she was all dressed and ready to go downstairs it was a happy
little girl that breakfast and I will tell in the next chapter.
CHAPTER II
Rose at Breakfast and Her Birthday
Rose's nurse helped her get into her chair. Happy Birthday,
Rose! said her father and mother. Rose tried to smile. She sat
APPENDIX I 243
down; and oh, what a lot of presents for her! She opened one box
and there was a ring. It was gold with an emerald in the middle
with two pearis on each side and two diamonds on each side of the
pearls, and two rubies on each side of the diamonds and between the
rubies was a sapphire.
She put it on her finger. Thank you, papa dear and mamma dear,
she said. Next she opened another box, and there were four silk
handkerchiefs embroidered with gold and pink embroidery and
pearis around them. Dear me, said she, how pretty. Thank you.
She opened another big box and there was a lady doll just like
chisup (?). O who-o-o-o said Rose. Thank, thank you, dear, dear,
dear papa, mamma. She opened another big box and that had a
doll house just like chisey's (presumably she means Chesley's, this
being the name of a friend of an older sister). And she opened
another box and there was a Uttle doll carriage. She opened an-
other big box and there was a tricycle like Ernest's (another
neighbor).
CHAPTER III
Rose's Birthday Presents
Rose soon heard a bark and in bounded a great big Saint Bernard
dog. Rose ran and put both httle fat arms around the dog's neck.
He Ucked her face and wagged his tail. I'll name him Hero, he's
such a good doggy. Yes, and he's for you, dear, said her father.
Then her mother took four Uttle kitties and said, These too are for
you, dear. Thank you mamma. Thank you, papa. And she
kissed them both. And off she went to play in the garden, the
first day she had been out.
CHAPTER nil
Rose's Meeting Isabel
Rose met Isabel aroimd the second turn of the garden. Isabel
did not know what to say. But just as Isabel came, Mary came
after her. She rushed to Rose and whispered, Isabel got a whitpen
from her father. Rose whispered. Is she sorry or mad at me? She
said she was mad and she told her ma and pa she was sorry, said
Mary. Rose said, She tells Hes. Doesn't she? Mary said. Rose
gave one glance at Isabel and then Mary and Rose both turned
their backs on Isabel. Isabel went sulkily away.
244 APPENDIX I
CHAPTER V
Playing with Mart
Rose showed Mary her birthday presents and they played with
the doll-house. Rose told Mary that her mother was making a
beautiful cake with some white frosting and little pink candies
making Rose's name on the cake. It was an angel cake and it had
in the center a lot of almonds, pink white yellow green violet
brown orange red blue and a $ for the prize. I'm going to have
a lovely party tonight, said Rose, and I'm going to invite you and
Isabel Prudy and Grace and Lilian, Betty Carolyn Ruth Anna
and EUzabeth, Zaner, Robert and Bod and Maxwell, Ernest Howard
Edward, Dunceit and Duncan, the twins, Violet, Diana, Daner
(mostly names or attempts at names of neighbors). 22 children
and counting you. Rose, there'll be 23, murmured Mary. Yes,
said Rose, there'll be 23 counting me. There's going to be a
great big Christmas tree with lots of things on it tonight, said Rose.
Good-by, Mary.
CHAPTER 6
Rose's Birthday Party and in the Afternoon
Rose had just eaten her dinner when the door bell rang ding ding
ding. Up jumped Rose and rushed to the door. She had thought
it would be Mary come to play with her, but when she opened the
door there stood Isabel with downcast eyes. I'm awfully sorry,
Rose.
CHAPTER 7
Isabel Asking to be Forgiven
Oh Isabel, I have forgiven you for a long time. Come in, please,
come in. Yes I will. May I see your birthday presents? Here
is my present for you. Thank you, dear Isabel. Rose opened the
little bundle and there was — could you guess? — a gold watch with
emeralds all over it. Thank you, thank you, dear Isabel.
CHAPTER 8
Conversation between Isabel and Rose
After Isabel had looked at Rose's presents, she said, I guess I'll
have to go home and get dressed for the party. So you will, and I
will too. Isabel ran home with a hght heart and a smiling face.
APPENDIX I 245
CHAPTER 9
The Getting Ready for the Party
Mrs. Maland was very busy getting ready for the party. She
made a cake and bought some lovely ice cream. She made
a beautiful salad and candies and cookies. She made the
Christmas tree very beautiful with tinsel and other things. The
room looked very beautiful when it was ready. She had new
silk curtains with gold braid on them hung up before every door in
the house and Christmas bells were tinkling all over the house.
CHAPTER 10
Rose Gets Ready for the Party
Rose went up stairs and had a bath. Her mother put clean
clothes for her, a lace petticoat with green ribbons running through
it and light green stockings and green shoes spangled with emeralds,
a green silk dress with a white veil over it and gold beads spangle.
There was a high room with blue wall paper and a silver moon on it
and little gold stars. Rose had a green ribbon with gold beads on
it and a green sash with green emeralds on it. Rose's curls were
brushed. Rose wore a gold bracelet with 5 emeralds in it and a
birthday ring and the watch Isabel had given her. She had gold
heels on her shoes and a gold chain with emeralds on it. She had
a emerald pendant too.
CHAPTER 10
Rose Greets Her Friends
Go down and greet your friends to our party. Rose ran down to
open the door. She had invited Mr. J. E. and all the children were
crowding in. Tut, tut, said Rose, you must not crowd, or I won't
know where to find you.
CHAPTER 11
The Party
They all went to a big room and bobbed apples and played ever
BO many games and had a peanut himt and such a lovely time. They
did everything.
CHAPTER 11
Christmas Night
That night when Rose went to bed she thanked her mamma very
much. She then went to the fireplace and got a big stocking and
246 APPENDIX I
hung it up. Good night, mamma, she said. Good night, papa.
And up stairs she went.
CHAPTER 12
Christmas Day and Christmas Morning
About one o'clock in the morning Rose woke up and listened.
What was that noise? Could it be Santa Claus? Yes, it was,
she said to herself, and she tucked herself up and waited to the
first streak of Ught came in the window. Up she jumped out of
her bed. She went very quickly to the stairs, down one step, she
peered into the dining room. Her stocking was chuck full of toys.
She ran upstairs again and got dressed very quickly. Then up got
Rose's mother and father and they were dressed quickly too, and down
they went to the dining room. Rose dashed to the fireplace. She
called her brother Kenneth downstairs. He heard her and he got
dressed very quickly. Downstairs he went. They both sat down to
open their stockings. Dear me, said Rose, as she pulled out a doll,
a ball, a chain a ring a doll's chair and lots of other things. As for
her brother, he and she were almost buried with their toys. When
they had had a good look at the Christmas tree and had had their
breakfast they played with their toys. Mary came over with her
doll and Rose and Mary played dolls. Mary went home and pretty
soon company came to dinner. Before dinner they had the Christ-
mas presents.
CHAPTER 12
The Dinner
For dinner they had turkey cranberry jelly, and pickles and
squash and mashed potatoes and rasberry vinegar, and all kinds of
nuts and raisens and lots and lots of Cristmas candy and lots of
other kinds of candy. They had a great big Redfrosted cake and
snow pudding and ice cream and pumkin pie.
CHAPTER 13
Hallowe'en Night
It was Hallowe'en night. Oh mamma, said Rose, get my skull
mask and my grey cloak. Her mother got her things on. But just
as she put in the last pin, the door bell rang. She flew downstairs
and opened the door. There stood a ghost. Rose, are you ready
to come out with me? Yes, said Rose, I got my flash Ught. Out-
APPENDIX I 247
doors they scampered. Rose put her flash light into a room where a
mother was putting her baby to bed. The lady screamed at the
sight of the terrible face and hght. But it only made the girls laugh
and the baby squram. Rose and Mary go to a Hallowe'en party.
CHAPTER 14
Valentine's Day
I got lots and lots of beautiful valentines, Mary, said Rose, pulling
them out of her rosewood desk with the gold pen. I'm invited to a
valentine party, said Rose, shaking her golden curls. But see all the
pretty valentines. I'm going to give 30 of them, said Rose. I'm
invited to the same party.
CHAPTER 15
They Go to the Valentine Party
Rose and Mary started out to the party. Oh, but did they not
have a lot of good times at the party. I had a lovely time at the
party, Mrs. Clifford.
CHAPTER 16
Thanksgiving Day
Thanksgiving Day came at last. Rose had on her white silk
embroidered dress and a white silk ribbon some white silk stockings
some white silk shoes. Pretty soon they all sat down to dinner.
There were nuts raisens cranberry jelly pickles and the same kind
of things they had to eat on Christmas. What a lovely dinner
there was and how many Thanksgiving cards there were for Rose,
Kenneth and Mary. It's a day, said Rose to her mother. Yes, dear,
it was, said Mrs. Maland.
CHAPTER 17
Momrele (Memorial) Day Rose Sees the Soldiers March
Mamma, I want a flag, a flag, said Rose, dancing about her
mother. Here's one. Rose, said Mrs. Maland. Rose took the
flag and went to see the solgers. Trum trum trum turmtetum
teum trum. That's what the drums are saying, said Rose. What a
lot of solgers there are. Let's follow them to the Mamorele (Me-
morial) Hall. They got a lot of salted peanuts and a lot of pink
248 APPENDIX I
white corn on the way home they went to the park and saw the
monkeys and had a ride on the merry-go-round. Next they had a
real ride on some real ponies. In the afternoon they had a long ride.
CHAPTER 18
A School Day
Ding ding ding went the school gong. Get in line, said Miss
Ellen. Left left left right left ready march. When the children
were all in their seats Miss Ellen read the sarm. Then they had
the Lord's prayer. Then the morning song. In arithmetic Rose
got 100 and in spelling she got 100, and in all her work she got 100.
At recess the teacher bathed Rose's head and put the bandage on to
keep it from getting hot. She did not use her arm much at all.
CHAPTER 19
Summer Days for Happy Rose
I'm going to the beach next week, said Rose, peeking out of the
hammock. Are you going to any beach, Mary? said Rose. I
don't know, Rose. I have been to England but on the way I was
seasick, said Rose. Let's play with our lady dolls. Rose. Yes, we
will play under that tree. So they played for such a long time that
it was 5 o'clock when they stopped. Come in and have your supper
now, dear, called Kenneth from the door. Mamma said you could
go out after supper and stay out till 8 o'clock.
CHAPTER 20
The Terrible Thunder Storm
Next day it rained so hard that Rose could not go out. In the
afternoon it began to thunder. There -^as an awful crash that
made Rose shiver and shake. It grew very black and the lightning
was very bad. Rose saw two men get struck and 3 trees and
one horse.
CHAPTER 20
The Hurricane
Next morning there* was a terrebuU wind. It was blowing up
houses and tearing trees up by the roots. Rose was in Isabel's
house when the house went flying way, way up in the air. Rose
saw great waves upon the ocean. It was a real hurricane.
APPENDIX!! 249
CHAPTER 21
Rose at the Seaside
Goodby, Isabel and Mary. I'm going to the beach now. When
she got to the beach it was very warm. I want something to eat,
Mamma dear, said Rose. You shall have it, dear. Can we go in
bathing Ma? Yes, down the little road. They ran into the water.
They splashed in it. Rose began to swim to the raft that was
rocking on the blue waves. When she got to the raft she dived
off and swam under water. When she came up she floated on the
water.
CHAPTER 22
Rose Going Down in the Ocean with the Diver and sees
Great and Wonderful. Things
Rose was going down in the ocean with a diver. They take their
lights and down they dive for a long distance. Rose put her hand
out and felt the sand. She looked around and saw some coral and
pearls. She took a lot of sea gems and went along with the diver.
Soon she saw a huge shark. She clung to the diver. Then she saw
a gigantic cuttle fish, its goggle eyes staring everywhere. Then she
saw a whale. She saw so many wonderful things I could not tell
you all of them. Pretty soon thej'^ went up out of the water and
Rose's clothes were not wet.
CHAPTER 23
Rose Comes Home from the Beach
Today I'm going home, said Rose. On the train Rose's mother
bought her a bannaner. When she got to the place to get out there
were Mary and Isabel waiting with their fathers. We were waiting
for you, Rose. Rose was so happ}' she could not speak.
CHAPTER 24
Spring Time Hunting for Flowers
Mamma, take us to walk. We must get our flowers for our May
baskets. The children came home loaded with violets, blueits,
ennemones, star flowers and ferns. These will be beautiful for our
May baskets. Rose arranged her flowers in a bowl so they would
not fade.
250 APPENDIX I
CHAPTER 25
Making May Baskets
My May baskets are all done. Are they not pretty? said Rose.
Yes, said Mary and Isabel together. Rose put her May baskets on
the table.
CHAPTER 26
May Day and May Night
Rose arranged her flowers in the May baskets and put lots and
lots of candy in them. Look, look, how pretty they do look, said
Rose, as she put them in a big basket. She rang all the door bells.
She got 30 May baskets.
CHAPTER 27
Winter and Rose Goes Skating
Rose fastened on her skates and flew around on the ice. She slid
on the ice in her sled. What a lovely time she had skating and
coasting.
CHAPTER 28
Easter
I got 30 Easter eggs and lots of Bunnys and chickens, said Rose
and I got a hat. How many eggs have you eaten? I have eaten
10 easter eggs, said Rose. I'm going over to Mary's house and
show her my Easter presents.
CHAPTER 29
The Gypsees Steal Rose and Mary
Rose and Mary were walking along on a Uttle lonesome road
when something got in their feet. Mary looked around and at once
saw that they were in a gypsees camp. A man jumped out of the
bushes and picked up both children and ran at a great pace. Rose
screamed and Mary yelled. At last the man stopped before a dirty
camp. He put Rose and Mary in the camp. An old gypsee wanted
to tell Rose's fortune but Rose would not let her. Just then Rose's
father came in. [He picked up Rose and Mary and took them
home.
APPENDIX I 251
CHAPTER 30
Sunday
It was Sunday and the children had to go to church. After
church the children sat in chairs thinking about the years that had
come and gone while Rose was melting away from the ears of men.
The End
This story, exhibiting so clearly the idealizing power
of a child, as well as her feeling for what she thought was
the proper substance and form of a story, was only one
of a series. The Second Book is about many interesting
and mysterious experiences, such as " The Secret
Drawer," '' The Little Door in the Attic,'' " The Buried
Place," " Rose Finds a Mystery," " The Flood," " Rose
Gets Lost." Some of the ideas are from a story by
Kenneth Graham, for which due acknowledgment is
made by the young author! The Third Book is about
Rose at the Beach, and was written a year or so after the
first story. The child had been to the beach several
times, and had had one or two boat trips, but the Baha-
mas and Florida are fiction, so far as the author's own
experience is concerned. So is the brother.
ROSE MARLAND AT THE BEACH
And the End Tells where she Comes Home the
Day before Christmas
THIRD BOOK
Contents
Rose Goes to the Beach 1
Brother to the Rescue 3
Florida 4
252 APPENDIX I
Rose Marland Goes to the Beach
Rose was so excited over going to the beach that she did not notice
where she was going and sat down in a bowl of water. Old Mammy
Blue got her up instantly and changed her clothes. Rose stayed
home most all the time in winter, and she was going to Florida
this winter. This was the morning to start. Tickets had been
gotten, trunks packed and nothing forgotten. Rose thought her
brother a nice boy to pull off her ribbon the very minute they were
to start. Well, all the Marlands were at last ready to go, and they
went aboard the big steamer. Mother had a Httle stateroom all to
herself, and Rose and her brother had a Httle stateroom all by them-
selves, so they were all right. Come on let's go out on deck and see
what it's Uke, Rose, whispered her brother. All right. Rose opened
the door to their stateroom and they went out on the deck. It was
a beautiful day, every minute getting hotter. We are going to have
a terrible storm at sea, shouted the captain. Rose and her brother
started for the cabin, but it was too late.
Brother to the Rescue
The boat that moment pitched forward and Rose was swung
head first over the bow of the boat. Evrybody saw her. She disap-
peared for a moment under the waves, but a big wave raised her
way up. Her brother who had been in a corner holding fast to the
rail came forward in a bathing suit, and before any one could stop
him he dived off the railing and vanished. Evryone was breathless
until Kenneth appeared holding Rose in his arms. The stewards
lowered some ropes and Kenneth cUmbed up. For brave, shouted
the people. Is he all right? whispered Rose as she came too. Get
the boat surgeon and we'll see if both of you are all right. Send a
sailor. The boat surgeon was found in the dining salloone under a
wreckage of tables, chairs, etc. He was soon brought out. When
the captain appeared, Thank God, he said, that they came safely
threw, and, said he, addressing the people, we are now at the wharf
at Florida. Three cheers, said the sailors, once more remembering
Kenneth. Three cheers, for he's a born sailor.
Florida
At last the Marlands were safely on shore, and the ship, I'm sorry
to say, the ship's chain busted, as the sailors called it, and the ship
APPENDIX I 253
got away, and you could jest see the top of ther ship, said the old
captain. The stormy day ended, Rose and Kenneth were snug in
bed. Next day dawned and Rose was out in the garden. . . .
The story proceeds in similar vein for several
chapters.
PART II
INCIDENTS FROM CHILD LIFE
Children do and say many revealing things. The
literature of child study contains much concrete ma-
terial that might well be accumulated and classified for
fresh study. Illustrations of these valuable data, to-
gether with some unpubhshed material that has come to
the writer's hand, are printed below. These incidents
are numbered for convenience of reference, and are
roughly classified by age. Teachers will do well to
familiarize themselves with the illustrations and to use
them as occasion offers. Some of the stories are defec-
tive for accurate study on account of the absence of
detail concerning the circumstances or situations. These
can be used, however, to give insight into the possibiU-
ties of behavior, and are therefore included.
In reading the incidents attention should be given to
what the child actually says or does, and to the situa-
tion, so far as it is given, in which he says and does it.
His age and sex should be carefully noted, together with
any comments that may be made concerning his family
or temperament. Care should be taken not to generalize
too hastily from such fragmentary data as are given.
We are just looking at children, individual children.
The reader should, however, try to state for himself any
general principle or law he already knows which is
254 APPENDIX I
illustrated or confirmed by each incident, or some preju-
dice concerning children that the incident throws doubt
upon. What does Case 4 suggest concerning children's
pranks and their treatment? What idea of God will
be natural to children of four if they spontaneously be-
have as described in Case 12? What capacity for self-
judgment or at least for making a discriminating com-
parison between conduct and a standard is found in a
child under three in Case 2? Can children under two
exercise self-control? In Case 1, one such child seems to
have been able to do so. And so on.
1. Boy. Sixteen months. Had been warned by mother not to
touch table legs thus, when he attempted to do so: "No, no.
Mustn't touch," with cautioning gesture. Had not been punished
for doing so. Was observed when alone to start for the table legs
on hands and knees, and then suddenly to stop, sit up, look at the
legs in an eager yet puzzled way, develop an expression as though
about to cry, making incipient motions toward the table, yet not
moving toward it. Finally, brightened up and went off in another
direction.
2. Girl. Two years, ten months. A little girl was being taught
by her mother to " say her prayers." Following the mother's
dictation, she repeated: " Thank you (God) for making me a good
girl today." Then she looked up and said: " But I cried." (She
had been an exceptionally good girl with the exception of the one
cry because her supper wasn't ready as soon as she wanted it.)
3. Boy. Three years. On a motor trip a small campfire was
made. He did not like it at all. " The fire isn't in the grate, and it
might run away," he said.
4. Boy. Three years. " The minister's Uttle three-year-old
had a beautiful head of golden curls, and thick bangs that hung over
his waxy forehead down to his eyebrows. This lovely head was real
gold to the proud mother, and quite as much to the father, whose
bald head set a high estimate on a fine crop of hair.
APPENDIX I 255
" One day the child was left in a darkened room to take his mid-
day nap, as usual. In due time his mother moved quietly into the
boy's room, supposing him to be asleep. But the little fellow, seeing
her shadowy form, called out, * Here, Mamma! Here's some hair! *
at the same time holding up a handful of yellow locks.
" The shocked mother instantly saw the situation. A pair of
scissors had been left on the bed, and the boy had diligently applied
them quite close to the cranium.
" The mother held no fireside court, but called the act by the name
that seemed, on hasty judgment, to fit it best, and deUvered her
opinion of the moral aspect of the deed with an immediate paddling.
" Her custom seems to have been the conmioner one of condemn-
ing and punishing first and then interrogating afterwards. The
criminal's trial follows his punishment in such case. So the mother
took the boy on her knee and said, * Little son, what made you do
that? '
" The beautiful lips trembled, the great, glorious eyes overflowed
with tears, and with convulsive sobs the child answered, ' Mamma,
I was trying to look Uke papa.' " *
5. Boy. Three years. He is such a comrade we almost forget
he is still an infant, only three years old. He likes best to work
with his father with real tools, in the shop. He constantly devises
new games, and his imagination enables him to impersonate any
animal. His morning stunt now is to play he is the eagle and swoop
down and carry off my baby (my hair brush) from under the hay
cock, and fly with it to his nest in the mountain (his daddy's bed).
Then I run screaming up the mountain and rescue it. He runs across
both our beds, and around the window seat, so he has quite a flight.
This game is repeated from the time he awakens until M. is ready
to dress him.
6. Boy. Three and a half years. Here is something from the
boy; it represents a tough nut to crack, I think. One evening, at
dinner he was discarding from his plate several crusts of bread which
were perfectly good; M. thinking to persuade him to eat them,
said, "There are lots of hungry little boys in the world who
would be glad to get those nice crusts." I added, to impress him
more strongly, that some little boys were so hungry they would be
1 Patterson Du Bois, Fireside Child Study. Copyright, 1903, Dodd, Mead & Co.
256 APPENDIX I
glad to pick the crusts out of the ash box and eat them. He seemed
to be greatly interested and his eyes were wide open in astonish-
ment. After a moment, in a haK tearful, half impatient voice, he
said: " O dear! why doesn't our heavenly Father give those little
boys something to eat? " We of course were rather startled at his
remark, and noticing our faces he added : " But he gives me my food
doesn't he? "
7. Boy. Three and a half years. Seeing his mother dress to
go out my nephew, who is three and a half years old, asked her
where she was going. She told him she was going to see Miss W.
** Why? " he asked. " Because she is ill," his mother answered.
After a moment he said, " Don't you want to take something to
her, mother? " Of course she did. So he went to his play room,
brought back a cherished toy and wrapped it up for the invalid.
8. Girl. Three and a half years. The parents of a little girl of
three and a half years had forbidden her to have any chocolate
candy for a limited time on account of an unhealthy condition of
her blood. She was out visiting friends and in the absence of her
parents was offered some of the forbidden sweets. She looked long-
ingly at the tempting dish, but rephed, " I mayn't eat candy."
On returning home she told her mother of the incident with ap-
parent self-satisfaction, adding, " Some children would have just
taken it anyhow." I might have added that the temptation was
augmented by the little son of the hostess who was present and said
to the Uttle girl when she refused the candy, " But your daddy isn't
here now."
9. Boy. Three and a half years. It took place last Christmas
Day. The child, a boy three and a half years old, had been longing
for the possession of a particular kind of toy, which he got on that
day. His happiness seemed to increase in intensity as the hours
went by. He pleaded to be allowed to hold it all the time, also
during meals; for the rest of the day he neglected the company" of
friends who were most dear to him, in order to play with, and enjoy
his new toy. He wanted to take the toy to bed when time came to
retire ; after almost a struggle, he was granted the permission to do
so. He put the toy inside the night-dress, so as to be sure to have
it, holding his hand over it on the outside of the garment. When his
APPENDIX I 257
mother knelt beside his cot to hear him say his prayers, he turned
to her and asked that she hold the toy while he thanked Jesus for it.
10. Girl. Four years. " One day I noticed that a Uttle girl
who was very self-willed was sewing the card given her in an irregular
and disorderly manner. ' Oh, Ehzabeth! ' I exclaimed, ' you are
not doing that right! Come here and let me show you how to do it.*
* No,' answered the child in a seK-satisfied tone, ' Elizabeth likes it
this way.' I saw that I must appeal to the public opinion of the
table of babies about her in order that I might lead her to voluntarily
undo the work. So I asked her to show the card to the other chil-
dren. As is usually the case, pubhc opinion decided in the right, and
the children said they did not like it. * But Elizabeth likes it,'
persisted the child. ' It's Elizabeth's card, and she is going to make
it this way.' I saw that the httle community of her own equals
had not sufficient weight to influence her, and from her manner I
knew that it was mere caprice on her part. So I said, * Come with
me and we will go over to brother's table and see what they think of
it.' We held the card up before the next older children, and I said
pleasantly, ' Children, what do you think of this card? ' * It is
wrong,' they exclaimed, ' The soldiers ' (meaning the vertical lines)
' are all tumbling down.' By this time the pubUc opinion of our
little community had begun to have an effect, and the child turned
to me and exclaimed, ' It is a bad, nasty card, and EUzabeth will
throw it into the fire,' starting at the same time toward the open
grate in the room. ' Oh, no, my dear,' I exclaimed, * let's go over
to the table where the big children are. Perhaps they can tell us
something to do with it.' With that we walked across the room to
the table at which my older and better-trained children were at
work. After praising the forms which they were making with their
sticks, in order to arouse within the child's mind a still higher ap-
preciation of their judgment, I said, ' Our little EUzabeth has a card
she wants to show you and see if any of you can tell her what to do
with it.' The card was held up, somewhat unwiUingly this time,
and the children without hesitation said, ' She must take out the
crooked stitches and put them in straight.' The oldest boy at the
table added, ' Come here, Elizabeth; I'll show you how to do it.'
With that her little chair was drawn up beside his larger one, and for
ten minutes the two patiently worked over the tangled card. At
the end of that time Elizabeth brought the card to me and in tri-
258 APPENDIX I
umphant delight exclaimed, * Now everybody will say that Eliza-
beth's card is pretty!' I had no further trouble with the child in
this particular direction of taking out work when wrongly done.
This, of course, would not be the right method of dealing with a very
sensitive child. The story shows the need of increasing the standard
of judgment by which the child is to be measured, in proportion to
the child's estimate of the work and value of his own opinions." ^
11. Boy. Age ? Mrs. McD. was a nurse and spent most
of her time away from home. Her husband was a " no- good "
and had left her. The four-year-old Uttle boy, Kendall, one day
ran in front of the street-car, and lost one arm up to the elbow and
from the hand of the other were torn all but one finger; he would be
a great charge.
But her step-son, Gordon, offered to take care of Kendall in every
way he could that his step-mother might not have to discontinue her
nursing. And day after day he played with the maimed, peevish
child, got books from the library and read to him and stayed home
from play with other boys whenever he was needed.
12. Girl. Four and a half years. Margaret, a little girl four and
a half years old, was sitting in a rocking chair in front of a window,
persevering with some crocheting which she wanted to do because I
was doing it. Her mother and I were busy about our work in the
same room. After an hour or two of silence she suddenly said, " My
back is hot," for the sun had come around to that window.
" What will you move, Margaret, the chair or the sun? " her
mother asked.
" The chair," was the decided answer. Thereupon my curiosity
was aroused and I asked, " Why didn't you have the sun move,
Margaret dear? "
She answered, " But God does that." Without one word she
bowed her head and prayed, " Please, dear God, will you move
the sun for me? "
13. Boy. Four years, eight months. I will note down the items
of the boy's adjustment between the real and the imaginative.
He seems to be very clear about the difference. This morning he
asked me if God was real, or a fairy. I had so often told him that
1 From A Study of Child Nature, copyright, 1890, by Elizabeth Harrison. Pub-
lished by the National Kindergarten and Elementary College.
APPENDIX I 259
the gods in the stories of the myths were fairies, that he wanted to
be sure about the heavenly Father. He often asks, regarding habits
of animals, whether it is real, or a story. M. is puzzled by his relat-
ing things to her which he knows are not true, and so does she.
He says then that they are stories. To her they are lies. He cleariy
understands the difference between fact and fancy, but has not
always grasped when he should tell only the facts. I can see daily
signs of a better understanding. He often adds, " That is not really
true, it is only a story, Mother," with a questioning look. His
present interest is divided between a most fanciful Santa Claus
book, and The Tree Dwellers, by Dopp, of Chicago. He likes to
take trips on maps, and soon will understand this better.
14. Boy. Four and a half years. His father brought him a small
electric cell, with buzzer and push-button. He disconnects every-
thing, and reconnects them, with imending joy. He is learning
many simple truths about electricity. The spark delights him.
All physical phenomena interest him. He weaves these facts into
new games. At first he had a bell instead of a buzzer. He made
this into a fire alarm, gave a toy auto to his two playmates, and
all rushed to put out the fire. This game lasted a long time, with
exciting variations.
Last Christmas the lad invented a play with the star of Bethle-
hem. We were seated in the Uving room with some guests. He
had me light a candle upon the table, and turn out the other Ught.
This was the sun. He brought in an apple for the moon. Then he
blew out the Ught and announced that he was God, and would bring
in the star. He carried in a contraption, made of sticks of wood
nailed across each other, and as tall as he. After marching around
the table, the star was taken to the reception hall, the candle lighted,
and the game was over. He explained that stars were really bigger
than the sun; his mother had said so. You can imagine our feelings
when he announced that he was God, and would now bring in the
starl He is interested in savages, and the Geographic Magazine
suits his fancy. He asks often if the pictures are real, or fairy.
15. Girl. Five years. A little girl, on her way from school,
ran across a neighbor's lawn. As the child passed a bed of chrysan-
themums, she paused before one particularly beautiful one. Her
body bent slightly, her right hand was raised a little and she seemed
260 APPENDIX I
to be about to seize the flower. Suddenly the child clasped her
hand behind her and ran to her home.
16. Girl. Five years. The child about whom this incident
was told was a little girl of about five years of age. The older
Bister, Mary, who was keeping house in the home concerned, was not
eehng well on the day when the Httle girl felt she ought to do some-
thing to help. In fact Mary had a severe headache. The baby
sister noticed this, and going up to Mary, she climbed on her lap,
and said, " Mary's sick, and Httle Freda wants to help her, what
can she do? " The dinner dishes had not been washed, and Httle
Freda, seeing this, ran and began washing the dishes in her own way.
Mary was not so sick but that she could work when it was very
necessary, so she went and together Mary and Freda washed the
dishes.
17. Girl. Five years. EHzabeth aged seven and Josephine
aged five attended the Beginner's Class in the church school.
The time had come for EHzabeth 's promotion, but as she went to
join her class Josephine wept vociferously. Attempts to quiet her
were unavailing and the expected promotion was deferred for the
sake of the other children.
The Sunday following, however, the teacher said that EHzabeth
must not be kept back on account of her sister. Josephine wept
bitterly for a while, but finaUy became interested in her class work.
At the close of the session she promised to be a good girl in the future.
The third Sunday each sister took her appointed place at the be-
ginning of the school.
Little Josephine's face was a study. She was undoubtedly labor-
ing under a temporary nervous strain, but trying with all her might
not to cry. She conquered herself. The result was shown most
amusingly at the next session by the maturely independent manner
in which she took her place.
18. Boy. Five years. " * Mamma, mamma! ' called Httle Henry
from his bed upstairs to his mother, who was reading to father in
the hall below, ' Please come up and stay with me.'
" This was an unusual request, as Henry had, since his fifth birth-
day three months before, talked or sung himself to sleep, con-
tented with the thought that mother and father were within calling
distance.
APPENDIX I 261
" * No, my darling,' said mamma; * I cannot come up. But
father and mother will be right here.' But this assurance did not
satisfy, and again the request came, this time more urgent than be-
fore, * Please, mamma, come. I'm afraid to stay by myself.'
" This tone indicated distress, which must not be despised,
but recognized, and reasonably dealt with. ' Go to sleep, my little
boy,' said father; ' Jesus will take care of you. You know he
watches over all the children while they sleep.'
" This seemed to have the desired effect, and for a few minutes all
was quiet upstairs. But the composure was only outward; the
trouble within had not been allayed. The little heart was not yet
satisfied, for the silence was soon broken by a plaintive voice, which
asked, * Papa, does Jesus take care of bad boys? '
" What prompted this question? Why should he ask it tonight,
when all day long he had been cheerful, patient and obedient?
Neither mother nor father could remember any word or act of the
day to make specially appropriate tonight this implied classification
of himself with bad boys. But the question must be answered with-
out waiting to inquire why it should be asked at this particular time.
To endeavor to use it as a lever to pry open the heart of the child
would be to take an unfair advantage and might lead him next time to
keep his thoughts and fears to himself.
" These reflections were the rapid work of a moment, for delay
in the answer might suggest doubt of its truth. So, without at-
tempting to follow the lead of his question, I promptly replied, ' Yes
Henry; Jesus takes care of bad boys too. He loves them, and is
sorry they are bad; and if they are sorry and want to be good, he'll
help them to do right.'
" A few moments of silence, and then, * I want to be good,' came
back from the little room upstairs. There were no more calls for
mother, and ten minutes later, when I had occasion to go up for
something, he was sleeping the quiet sleep of the just.
" Next morning, as we finished breakfast, Henry asked, * Mamma,
may I have the rest of my candy now? ' Some one had given him
four chocolate drops the day before, two of which he was allowed
to eat after dinner, the remaining two being put away in the side-
board to be eaten next day.
" As I arose to get them for him, Henry said, in that quizzical
tone which in the fulness of its suggestiveness is an inimitable
262 APPENDIX I
characteristic of childhood, * I 'spec' the rats have been eating my
candy.' As I took up the saucer which held them, I noticed on
each of the chocolate drops the prints of two little teeth, which had
just scraped the brown surface, and left their marks on the creamy
white within. They were not rats' teeth, but evidently those of a
httle human sinner. ' Yes,' said I, as I stooped to kiss the sinner on
the cheek, ' and here's the rat that did it. This is the rat that ate the
malt that lay in the house that Jack built.' This led to a frank
confession that late in the afternoon he had climbed on a chair and
taken out the candy ' just to see if it tasted like the other.'
" My silent questions of the night before were answered, though
I did not tell him that I had either asked those questions or found
their answer." ^
19. Boy. Five and a half years. Edward, aged five and a half
years, " says his prayers " kneeling in his bed beside his mother, but
gets down on his knees beside his bed to " pray " when he wants to
ask any special gift or favor. The night before the Fourth of July,
having heard his father remark that it would probably rain, as there
had been a dull sunset, Edward knelt by his bed and prayed : " God,
keep your bad sunset till a day when Bobby and I want to play with
our trains." Then he called to assure his father that it wouldn't
rain because he had asked God not to let it rain. And the next day
was clear.
Some day when Edward's " prayer " is not so satisfactorily and
mmediately answered there will be opportunity for another lesson
in his reUgious training!
20. Girl. Six years. " Many a mother thoughtlessly says to her
child, ' Be good to little brother while I am gone, and I will buy you
some candy.' * Give that to little sister, and I will give you some-
thing better.' SeK-control must not, in this way, be connected in
the child's mind with gratification of physical appetite, nor can the
child learn the sweet joy of unselfishness through the feeding of his
greed of possession. I once discovered that a little girl in a primary
class had written her spelling lesson upon the wrong side of the hem
of her linen apron. Upon my afterwards showing her the dishonesty
of the deed, she burst into tears and sobbed out, ' I couldn't help it;
1 Quoted from the Sunday School Times, by Patterson Du Bois in Fireside Child
Study, copyright, 1903, by Dodd, Mead & Co. Du Bois' own comments on this
story are important.
APPENDIX I 263
I couldn't help it. Papa promised me a diamond ring if I wouldn't
miss in my spelling this year.* The desire to obtain the coveted
jewel was so great that the bounds of honesty and integrity had been
overstepped, I once knew a church-school superintendent to say,
'Everybody who comes early for a month shall have a present.'
Doubtless, punctuality was obtained, but at the price of moral
degradation. Another illustration in the childhood of a woman
shall be told in her own words: 'Once when I was a Uttle girl,'
she said, ' our parents had left my older sister and myself alone for
the evening. Getting sleepy, we went into our mother's bedroom,
and cHmbing upon the bed drew a shawl over us, preparatory to a
nap before their return. In a little while my sister complained of
feeling cold. With the loving impulse of a generous child, I gave
her my part of the shawl; with a real pleasure I spread it over her,
and we were soon asleep. Upon the return of our parents, the ques-
tion was asked why my sister had all the covering while I had none.
Innocently enough, explanation was made in the words, ' She was
colder than I, so I gave her my part.' ' You dear, blessed, unselfish
little thing! ' exclaimed my father, ' here's ten cents for you to reward
you for your unselfishness.' A few evenings after, our parents were
again invited out, and again we children were left alone in our part
of the house. I began at once planning a scheme to coax my sister
to again go into our mother's bedroom for a nap in order that I
might repeat the deed which had earned me ten cents. I succeeded,
although this time it was with some coaxing that I got her to accept
the extra portion of the covering. For nearly an hour I lay waiting
for the return of my father, in order that I might gain financial
profit by my conduct. Thus easily and quickly the sweet, generous
unselfish impulse of a childish heart was changed by the mere thought
of material gain into sordid, selfish and deceptive conduct." *
21. Girl. Six years old. My niece who was staying with me
annoyed me greatly by visiting children whose home was very dirty.
I first forbade her going without giving any reason. Then I talked
with her saying that I feared she would get ill. She listened quietly
until I finished. Then in emphatic tones that expressed surprise at
my Umited knowledge, she said, " Why auntie you don't under-
stand, I shan't get sick. I'm clean and don't you see, nobody goes
> From A Study of Child Nature, copyright, 1890, by Elizabeth Harrison. Pub-
lished by the National Kindergarten and Elementary College.
264 APPENDIX I
to see them and I must." I said nothing but thought much and
finally decided to invite those children to play in my garden. I
must add that they came clean.
I reahze that many elements enter and various explanations may
be given but as my niece spoke to me I firmly believe that she had
a feeUng of sympathy for those children. She was six years old.
She was not generally disobedient and was a very affectionate child.
22. Boy. Six years. John's playmate, Robert, had been seri-
ously ill. When Robert was convalescent, John, who was six
years old, was allowed to go to see him accompanied by his mother.
John's mother noted his preoccupation during the morning and
could account for it later when they were about to start to see
Robert, for John had his beloved toy horse wrapped clumsily in
paper under his arm and upon his mother's inquiry he said it was to
be Robert's now.
23. Boy. Seven years. A country boy of seven hved a mile
from the post-ofl&ce and it was his duty to go for the mail each
evening at seven o'clock. On one evening he learned that there
was to be a free Victrola concert in the school building near the
post-ofiice at 7.30. He would not have time to go home to get
permission to stay for the concert and he knew that if he stayed later
than usual his parents would worry about him. He wanted very
much to hear the Victrola because he had only heard one in his life
before and there were very few opportunities in his community for
that kind of entertainment. He finally decided to miss this op-
portunity and go home as usual.
24. Boy. Seven years. He was asked by a neighbor's child to
help put in kindling. His friend said: " Mother will give us some
pennies for doing this." The boy replied, " Sure I'll help, but I
don't want any pennies. I don't think Mr. Hale would want me
to take them." This followed the celebration of Edward Everett
Hale Day at the church school.
25. Boy. Nine years. To illustrate from my own experience
when about nine years of age. In connection with a lesson about
John the Baptist, we had a beautiful large chart picture of the child
John scantily clad in rough shepherd's attire with a beautiful lamb
at his side. The result on me was that I wanted to look Uke the
picture and have a lamb like that. It affected my brother in the
APPENDIX I 265
same way. Frequently large herds of sheep passed our house and
we invariably used to go out and beg a lamb and finally bought
one which caused no small amount of trouble. I also remember
a picture of David with his sling that led to bad results. The
objects of the lessons in those cases were not attained; they were
rather defeated.
26. Boy. Nine years. Boy of nine asked by mother to go on
errand. Mother didn't want to ask, as boy was about to go to
play ball. " It would be a great help to me." " Sure I'll go," he
said . At night mother offered him a piece of money, but he wouldn't
take it. He said he had heard a story at school that made him feel
he ought to do his share at home. (The story was " What Bradley
Owed " in Children's Story Sermons, by H. T. Kerr.)
27. Boy. Nine years. A boy of about nine while playing with
his boy companions was asked by them to come along to a small
creek some distance away, to which he had been forbidden to go by
his parents. He would not let himself be persuaded. To silence
his friends he asked them in a somewhat self-righteous way if they
did not remember the golden text of last Sunday's lesson: " My
son, if sinners entice thee consent thou not ! "
28. Girls. Ten to twelve years. Answers to questions in a game
of Bible Characters:
Adam. — First man. God put Adam and Eve in the Garden of
Eden, and in that garden was a magic tree which God told them not
to touch. The devil tempted them and they ate of the tree. Then
God drove them out of the garden and they starved to death.
Abraham. — He was very poor and only had three books when
he was a boy. (Lincoln.)
— Father of the Jews.
Moses. — He was a baby. Were he and Jesus the same? (Child
nine years old.)
Joshua. — The man who wouldn't let the king kill all the baby
boys.
Ahah. — A king of Israel who had Jezebel for a wife. She wor-
shiped idols.
He ruled the country but she ruled the king.
Jesus. — Jesus was a Jew until they crucified him, then he rose
from the dead a Christian.
266 APPENDIX I
29. Boy. Twelve years. As I was walking through a crowded
business street down-town, I noticed a little pony that was harnessed
to a little cart. The pony was in danger of being hurt or perhaps
killed. Then just as quick as a flash a boy about the age of twelve,
at the risk of his own Hfe, darted out between the wagons and auto-
mobiles, threw his arm around the pony's neck and brought him
safely to the edge of the curb. The little boy then turned to his
companions and said, " Those greedy fellows wouldn't care if they
killed the poor httle horse." He stayed with the pony until he
was sure of his being safe and out of danger.
30. Boy. Twelve years. Scene: A Boys' Camp (a religious
organization); athletic field; championship events; 100 yard dash
for championship among younger boys.
Situation: W. T. age 12, recognized as best runner; entered with
seven boys, eleven to fourteen years.
The starter lined boys on the mark and conamanded: " On your
mark; get set; go! "
W. T. got an " early " start, ran about three yards, was ahead
of other boys, then slowed down. The other boys passed him and
finished the race. He dropped out and passed through the crowd
of witnesses.
The starter noticed all, and asked W. T., " What is the matter?
Why did you stop? " W. T. answered: " I beheve my start was a
' steal ' and I couldn't run; God wouldn't Uke it."
Note: W. T. lost the championship.
31. Boy. Sixteen years. Tony, sixteen years old, was captain
and catcher for one of the camp clubs. His team was playing the
final and deciding game for the championship. The inning was the
last of the ninth; two men were out; second and third were occupied,
and Louis the best batter of the other team was " up." According
to the common ethics of the game, the play was to deliberately walk
him; especially in this game as he had hit safely on his previous trips
to the plate. The pitcher wished to throw four wide balls, but Tony
ordered him to try to put Louis out, although he reaUzed the game
hung on the play.
Louis knocked a two bagger which brought over the plate the
tying and winning runs.
APPENDIX I 267
By this act, done in the full reaUzation of the consequences, Tony
had striven with his best to show a higher form of sportsmanship.
32. Girl. Age ? A young girl once rushed into a burning room
in order to save a pet of hers. Upon being told of the folly and
danger of such an act, she stated that it was a sin to be cruel to
dumb animals, and that she thought it very cruel to allow the
animals to be roasted.
33. Boy. Age ? A certain boy had been looking forward with
eagerness to a game of ball in which he was to participate. His
younger sister had for days been much distressed over the loss of a
pet kitten.
The afternoon on which the great game was to come off the lad
heard that a stray kitten had been seen quite a distance from his
home. He knew that if he went to this part of town to find out
whether or no the kitten was the one belonging to his sister he could
not return in time for the ball game. Nevertheless he started off,
and late that afternoon returned bringing in his arms his sister's pet.
APPENDIXjiI
Bibliography
For convenience of reference, the books mentioned in the text,
together with others that will be of use for further study of problems
raised in the several chapters, are Usted below, with the names of the
publishers. The first five sections include books of general interest
in the field of child psychology. In Section 6 the books are listed
by problems, following the arrangement of the chapters of the text.
Books that deal with the problem of method in the study of
children:
1 King, Irving. — The Psychology of Child Development, Uni-
versity of Chicago Press.
2 Thorndike, E. L. — Notes on Child Study, Teachers College
Columbia University.
3 McMannis, J. T. — The Study of the Behavior of an Individual
Child, Warwick and York.
Books that deal with fundamental facts of behavior and growth:
4 Judd, C. H. — Genetic Psychology for Teachers, Appletons.
5 Kirkpatrick, E. A. — Fundamentals of Child Study, Edition of
1917, Macmillan. Topically arranged.
6 Kirkpatrick, E. A. — The Individual in the Making, Houghton
Miflflin. Arranged by stages of growth. Full of excellent
concrete material, and dealing with the child as a gi'owing
social being.
7 Sully, James. — Studies of Childhood, Appletons. Contains
"A Father's Diary." Children's Ways, Appletons. A briefer
form of the above. Both are rich in concrete material.
8 Tanner, A. E. — The Child, His Thinking, Feeling and Doing,
268
APPENDIX II 269
Rand, McNally. Valuable compendium of infonnation on
many topics. Extensive bibliographies.
9 Norsworthy and Whitley. — Psychology of Childhood, Macmil-
lan. Comprehensive study giving considerable attention
to the psychology of learning, and to original nature.
More popular books for general reading or class use:
10 DuBois, Patterson. — Bedkoninga from Littk Hands, Dodd,
Mead.
11 DuBois, Patterson. — Fireside Child Studies, Dodd, Mead,
12 DuBois, Patterson. — The Culture of Justice, Dodd, Mead.
These books are especially useful in estabhshing a sympathetic
attitude toward children. Should be read by all parents.
13 Forbush, W. B. — Child Study and Child Training, Scribner's.
A text for a class of parents or young people. Thirty-six
lessons and twenty-seven laboratory experiments.
14 Harrison, Ehzabeth. — A Study of Child Nature, National
Kindergarten and Elementary College. Elementary. Help-
ful in getting teachers to see the child's point of view.
15 Lamoreaux, A. B. — The Unfolding Life, Revell. Popular
elementary training course.
16 St. John, E. F. — Child Nature and Child Nurture, Pilgrim
Press. A good text for a class of teachers or parents.
17 Weigle, L. A. — The Pupil and the Teacher, Doran. Section
on " The Pupil." See also the section dealing with the child
in the Pilgrim Training Course for Teachers.
4
Books more particularly concerned with the moral and religion ^
nature of children:
18 Coe, G. A. — Education in Religion and Morals, Revell. An
essential book.
19 Coe, G. A. — Articles in Hastings' Encyclopedia of Religion
and Ethics, on " Infancy," " Childhood," " Adolescence,"
" Growth," and " Morbidness."
20 Dawson, G. E. — The Child and His Religion, University of
Chicago Press. A study of children's interests.
270 APPENDIX II
21 Dewey, John. — Moral Principles in Education, Houghton
Mifflin. Short and clear.
22 Forbush, W. B. — The Coming Generation, Appletons.
^ 23 Griggs, E. H. — Moral Education. Huebsch.
24 Koons, W. G. — The Child's Religious Life, Jennings and
Graham.
25 MacCunn, John. — The Making of Character, Macmillan.
Theoretical treatment of educational problems, containing
much wise comment on moral development.
26 Mumford, Edith E. R. — The Dawn of Character, Longmans,
Green. A book of sound insight and great practical value.
27 Mumford, Edith E. R. — The Dawn of Religion in the Mind of^
a Child, Longmans, Green. Indispensable. Shows real
sympathy for the child's religious experience.
28 Shand, A. — Foundations of Character, Macmillan.
29 Sharp, F. C. — Education for Character, Bobbs-Merrill.
^ 30 Sisson, E. O. — The Essentials of Character, Macmillan. " A
practical study of the aim of moral education."
Books containing data for study. (List taken from Kirkpatrick's
Fundamentals of Child Study.) :
31 Aldrich. — Story of a Bad Boy, Houghton Mifflin.
32 Burnett. — The One I knew Best of All, Houghton Mifflin.
33 Canton. — W. V., Her Book and Various Verses, Stone and
Kimball.
34 Howells. — A Boy^s Town, Harper.
35 Keller. — The Story of My Life, Doubleday, Page.
36 Kelly. — Little Citizens, McClure, Phillips.
37 Laughlin. — Johnnie, The Bowen Merrill Co.
38 Loti. — Romance of a Child, Rand, McNally.
39 Martin. — Emmy Lou, McClure, PhiUips.
40 Meynell, Alice. — The Children, John Lane.
41 Phillips. — Just about a Boy, Herbert S. Stone.
42 Shinn. — Biography of a Baby, Houghton Miffln.
43 Smith, W. H. — The Evolution of Dodd, Rand, McNally.
44 Sully, J. — "A Father's Diary " in Studies of Childhood.
45 Tracy. — The Psychology of Childhood, D. C. Heath.
APPENDIX II 271
46 Warner. — Being a Boy, Houghton MifHin.
47 White. — Court of Boyville, Doubleday and McClure Co.
Attention should be called to Mark Twain, Booth Tarkington,
Owen Johnson, and other noveUsts of childhood, whose writings
have helped to break down the barriers between youth and age.
6
Special references for the topics discussed in the several chapters :
CHAPTER I
The Point of View
48 Coe, G. A. — A Social Theory of Religious Education, Scribner's.
49 Cooley, C. H. — Human Nature and the Social Order, Scribner's.
60 Cope, H. F. — Religious Education in the Church, Scribner's.
51 Dewey, John. — Democracy and Education, Macmillan.
52 Fiske, John. — The Meaning of Infancy, Houghton Mifliin.
CHAPTER IV
Observing the Religious Life of Children
See books 1, 2, 3, 6, 18 and 48.
53 Coe, G. A. — The Psychology of Religion, University of Chicago
Press.
64 Hartshome, H. — Worship in the Sunday School (Out of print) .
CHAPTERS II, III AND V
The First Eight Years
See books under the first five sections of the bibUography, particu-
larly 6, 10-12, 17, 18, 19, 26, 27; also 103-105, 110.
55 Cope, H. F. — Religious Education in the Family, University of
Chicago Press.
56 Fitz, Mrs. R. K. and G. W. — Problems of Babyhood, Holt.
57 Major, D. R. — First Steps in Mental Growth, Macmillan.
58 Preyer, W. — The Mind of the Child, Appletons.
69 Preyer, W. — Mental Development in the Child, Appletons.
60 Rankin, M. E. — A Course for Beginners in Religious Educa-
tion, Scribner's.
272 APPENDIX II
CHAPTER VII
Boys and Girls
See books under the first five sections of this bibliography, particu-
larly 6, 17, 18, 19; also 100, 109, 110.
61 Forbush, W. B. — The Boy Problem, Pilgrim Press.
62 McKeever, W. A. — Training the Boy, Macmillan.
63 McKeever, W. A. — Training the Girl, Macmillan.
64 Moxcey, M. E. — Girlhood and Character, Abingdon Press,
CHAPTER VIII
The Transition
See books under the first five sections of this bibliography, par-
ticularly 6, 17, 18, 19; also 61-64, 100 (Sex Education), 102, 109,
110.
65 Alexander, J. L. — The Sunday School and the Teens, Associa-
tion Press.
66 Coe, G. A. — The Spiritual Life, Revell.
67 Hall, G. S. — Adolescence, Appletons. Two volumes.
68 Hall, G. S. — Youth, Its Education, Regimen and Hygiene.
Sixty-seven abridged. Appletons.
69 King, Irving. — The High School Age, Bobbs-Merrill.
CHAPTER VI
Likenesses and Differences
70 Strayer and Norsworthy. — How to Teach, Macmillan.
71 Thorndike, E. L. — Education, Macmillan.
72 Thorndike, E. L. — Educational Psychology, Vol. Ill, Teachers
College.
73 Thorndike, E. L. — Educational Psychology, Briefer Course.
74 Thorndike, E. L. — Individuality, Houghton Mifflin.
CHAPTERS IX AND X
Our Inherited Equipment
See books under Sections I and II and under Chapters I and VI,
and also 48.
, 75 Calhoim, A. W. — A Social History of the American Family,
from Colonial Times to the Present, Clark.
APPENDIX II 273
76 Downing, Elliott. — The Third and Fourth Generation^ Uni-
versity of Chicago Press.
^1 Goodsell, W. — A History of the Family as a Social and Educa-
tional Institution, Macmillan.
78 Thorndike, E. L. — Educational Psychology, Vol. I, Teachers
College.
CHAPTERS XI AND XII
Making Over Human Nature
79 Colvin, S. S. — The Learning Process, Macmillan.
80 Swift, E. J. — Mind in the Making, Scribner's.
81 Thorndike, E. L. — Educational Psychology, Vol. II, Teachers
College.
Concerning Action: See books under Chapters IX and X, also
82 Dewey, J. and E. — Schools of Tomorrow, E. P. Dutton.
83 Diffendorfer, R. E. — Missionary Education in Home and School,
Abingdon Press.
84 Hutchins, W. N. — Graded Social Service for the Sunday School,
University of Chicago Press.
85 Hutton, J. G. — The Missionary Education of Juniors, Mis-
sionary Education Movement.
86 James, William. — Psychology, Briefer Course, X, Holt.
87 James William. — Talks to Teachers, VIII, Holt.
88 Kirkpatrick, E. A. — The Use of Money, How to Save and How
to Spend, Bobbs-Merrill.
Concerning Thinking:
89 Dewey, John. — How We Think, D. C. Heath.
90 McMurry, F. M. — Elementary School Standards, World Book
Co
91 McMurry, F. M. — How to Study, Houghton Mifflin.
92 Miller, I. E. — The Psychology of Thinking, Macmillan.
93 Woodworth, R. S. — Dynamic Psychology, Columbia University
Press.
Concerning Worship: See 54, also
94 Hartshorne, H. — Manual for Training in Worship, Scribner's.
CHAPTER XIII
Motives
See book 93.
95 Cabot, R. C. — What Men Live By, Houghton Mifflin.
274 APPENDIX II
96 Dewey, John. — Interest and Effort in ifducation, Houghton
Mifflin.
97 Galloway, T. W. — The Use of Motives in the Teaching of
Morals and Religion, Pilgrim Press.
CHAPTER XIV
Health
98 Bigelow, M. A. and A. N. — Applied Biology, Macmillan.
99 Bigelow, M. A. and A. N. — Introduction to Biology, Mac-
millan.
100 Bigelow, M. A. — Sex Education, Macmillan.
101 Cabot, R. C. — A Layman's Handbook of Medicine, Houghton
Mifflin.
102 Fisher and Fisk. — How to Live, Funk and Wagnall.
103 Holt, L. E. — The Care and Feeding of Children, Appletons
104 Kerley, C. G. — Short Talks with Young Mothers, Putnam.
105 Oppenheim, N. — The Development of the Child, Macmillan.
106 O'Shea and Kellog. — The Body in Health, Macmillan.
107 Read, M. L. — Mother craft Manual, Little, Brown.
108 Rowe, S. H. — The Physical Nature of the Child and How to
Study It, Macmillan.
109 Taylor, C. K. — The Boys' Camp Manual, Century.
110 Tyler, J. M. — Growth and Education, Macmillan — Extensive
Bibliography.
CHAPTERS XV AND XVI
Work and Play
See books 5, 28, 48, 68, 69, 78, 80, 81, 95.
111 Atkinson, H. A. — The Church and the People's Play, Pilgrim
Press.
112 Bancroft, J. H. — Games for Playground, Home, School and
Gymnasium, Macmillan.
113 Bates and Orr. — Pageants and Pageantry, Ginn.
114 Cannon, W. B. — Bodily Changes in Pain, Hunger, Fear and
Rage, Appletons. Technical discussion referred to in the
text.
115 Colvin and Bagley. — Human Behavior. Macmillan. Espe-
cially Chapter V on " Behavior and the Feelings."
APPENDIX II 275
116 Crile, G. W. — The Origin and Nature of the Emotions, W. B.
Saunders Co. Technical discussion from the medical stand-
point, referred to in the text.
117 Curtis, H. S. — Education through Play, Macmillan.
118 Curtis, H. S. — The Play Movement and Its Significance,
Macmillan.
119 Curtis, E. W. — The Dram/jUic Instinct in Education, Houghton
Mifflin.
120 Gates, H. W. — Recreation and the Church, University of Chi-
cago Press.
121 Johnson, G. E. — Education by Plays and Games, Ginn.
122 Lee, J. — Play in Education, Macmillan.
123 Mackay, C. D. — How to Produce Children's Plays, Holt.
124 Mackay, P. — A Substitute for War, Macmillan.
125 McDougall, W. — Social Psychology, Luce. Especially Chap-
ters III, V, and VI.
126 Patrick, G. T. W. — Psychology of Relaxation.
CHAPTER XVII
Character
See Section IV of this bibUography, and also 48.
127 Hoben, Allan. — The Church School of Citizenship, University of
Chicago Press.
128 Schoff, H. K. — The Wayward Child. A study of the causes of
crime. Bobbs-Merrill.
APPENDIX III. — Chart A
CHART OF SOCIAL DEVELOPMENT
To be made out for some one child or for children in general
Age
1 2 3
4 5
6 7 8
9 10 11
12 1
Associates:
Constant
contacts
mother, chil-
dren of own
age, police-
man, etc.
Occasional
contacts
Self-chosen
contacts
Places where most time
is spent
Predominant Activity
Plays and Games
Work (see Ch. XV)
Stronger Instincts
Things valued highly
(willingly sacrificed for)
Time-span of recalled and
imagined experience —
one day, one month,
one year, etc.
Persons most influential
Motives — how influenced
— suggestion, example,
argument, threats, re-
wards, etc.
Typical Purposes
Problems of Social Ad-
justment
Problems of Intellectual
Adjustment
276
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APPENDIX III. — Chart C
TIME SCHEDULE
DIRECTIONS : The schedule is to be filled
out every day by pupil or parent, showing
as fully and accurately as possible, how each
day is spent between rising and going to bed.
The time is important. Return the Sched-
ule to the School next Sunday.
Pupil's name. „
Day School S. S. Grade
D. S. Grade Week of. 1
SUMMARY
Hour
Sunday
Hour
Monday
Hour
Tuesday
{Do not fill in)
At home
At school
Indoor play
Outdoor play
Home study or
practise
Special Lessons
House work
Business „...
Entertainments
Meals, dressing, etc.
Unaccounted for
Total waking hours
1
<
o
a
o
o
CO
a
t
CO
-'
00
06
00
2
Hour
Wednesday
Hour
Thursday
Hour
Friday
Hour
Saturday
INDEX
Adolescence, characteristics,
llSfif.
Air, a factor in health, 194.
Attitudes, significance of in
religion, 19-21; caught in
family Ufe, 20, 65; develop-
ment of, 68, 173; a means
of self-control, 47; Christian
attitudes, 65, 67, 174.
B
Behavior, laws of, 83. See
Rehgious behavior.
Bibhography, 268ff.
Boys, a diary quoted, 126;
differences from girls, 88;
a boy's feelings, 100; inci-
dent of a "bad" boy, 99;
boys' opinions of boys, 125;
pugnacious behavior, 98; how
boys spend their time, 68;
technical skill, 101.
Brotherhood, attitude of, 67f.
Bungalow, building a bungalow
in the fifth grade, 162.
Cases for study, 254ff.
Coe, G. A., 40, 86, 183; conver-
sion graphs, 120, 121. Sylla-
bus of Childhood, 277.
Competition, 106, 107, 108.
Consciousness, common, 10, 21;
a baby's, 11; individual, 12,
13, 21; of God, 22; self-, 14,
21.
Consequences, foresight of, 168,
180.
Conversion, 119, 120.
Cooperation, as rehgious asset,
109; and competition, 106-107;
in the Christian program, 66,
77; in class, 43; necessary
for kindergarten work, 24-25;
spirit of, 18, 65, 72, 106f ., 225;
versiis charity, 67.
Culture, 156f., 158.
Definitions, by four-year-old, 29.
Democracy and character, 229;
and Christianity, 230; and
education, 159f., 231; and
leisure, 206; and work, 207;
democratic view of child-
hood, 4.
Dewey, John, 162.
Diary, quotation from a boy's,
126; from a girl's, 130.
Discipline, theory of, 235.
Disease, ehmination of, 193f.
Dramatization, as a method,
115; capacity for, 71 ; drama-
tic interests of boys and
girls, lOlff.
279
280
INDEX
E
Education, and democracy, 231;
capacity for, 147ff., 155; fac-
tors in, 155ff.; theory of,
5, 6; versiLs heredity, 92, 93;
work and play in, 217£f.
EUmination curves, 122, 123.
Emotional capacity, 131.
Environment, effect of, 92, 93,
111, 161.
Exercise, a factor in health, 195.
Experience, differences in, 84;
individual differences due to,
92; enlargement of, 9, 25;
effects of, 10, 12, 15, 17, 84,
87; religious, 153.
Family, see Habit; basis of
common life, 19; differences
due to, 91; loyalty to, 65;
socialization through, 182;
source of attitudes, 20; sys-
tem needed, 18.
Fears, 33.
Food, a factor in health, 195.
Freedom and self-control, 75,
232ff.
Friendship, 67, 69.
Functions, biological and prefer-
ential, 214; controlHng ten-
dencies and capacities, 147f.;
functions of children, 222, 223.
Games, 61, 64, 65. See Recrea-
tion.
Girls, case of generous impulse,
159; diary quoted, 130; de-
scription of a thirteen-year-
old, 124; differences from
boys, 88.
God, 17, 22, 35, 37, 38, 41, 172.
Grace at table, 30.
Group competition and co-
operation, 106ff.; loyalty to
groups, 107.
Growth, 60, 61, 86, 92, 98, 192.
H
Habit, 17, 18, 19, 20, 31, 32, 113.
Hall, G. S., graphs from his
Adolescence, 118, 119.
Heredity, 90, 91, 92, 134ff.,
141ff.
V Hero-worship, 105, 110.
Hobbies, value of, 218, 225.
Hygiene, home, 199; mental,
196f.; personal, 191; pubUc,
198; school, 200.
Ideals, control by, 72, 73, 76,
125; development of, 78, 113,
155f.; ideaUzation, 110, 126.
Imagination, 16, 17, 25, 28,
29, 30, 60, 71.
Images, 28, 62.
Imitation, 26, 27.
Incidents from child life, 254ff.
Individuality, 12, 104f.
Individual differences, 88ff.
Infancy, 139, 157, 203.
Instincts, as tools, 147; in-
herited, 141, 143; Hst of,
143ff . ; of boys and girls, 98.
Parental instinct, 31, 32, 64,
98, 109, 151, 153.
INDEX
281
Social instincts, 149. In- Motives, 53, 73, 177.
stincts and motives, 183; Mumford, Edith E. R., 20.
instincts and play, 203.
Guiding the instincts, 32, q
Observation, methods of, 45ff.
Order, sense of, 15ff.
Original nature, 143, 153, 155.
64, 151, 183.
InteUigence, adolescent changes q^~^^^^ ^^^^ J- ""£
in, 131; and reUgion, 153,
167; babies, 7; meaning of,
167f.; individual differences
in, 89, 90, 91. P
Interests, intellectual, 63, 110, Peace of mind, a factor in
131; of childhood, 28, 29, 70, health, 196.
105.
J
Jesus, for the five-year-old, 41,
42.
Justice, sense of, 15, 17, 67.
K
Ketchup story, 29.
Kirkpatrick, E. A., 12, 29.
Leadership, 106, 107.
Learning, process of, 160ff.
Leisure, 209, 219, 226.
Lesson planning, 170, 187.
Life, development of, 135ff.
Loyalty, 65, 107, 108.
Pearson, Karl, 89.
Physical changes, 43, 60, 61,
97, 124, 127, 192.
Play, 64, 65, 203ff.
PotentiaUty, mark of childhood,
86.
Prayer, 20, 34, 38, 39, 40, 73,
113, 186.
Prayers of children, 30, 34, 39,
48, 70, 184.
Projects in reUgious education,
162, 164.
Purposes, 29, 50, 62, 72, 109.
168f.,
Purposes of Christian education,
for Beginners, 42; for early
childhood, 77; for later child-
hood, 113.
M
Race, differences due to, 90.
Methods in reUgious education. Recapitulation, 140.
43, 78, 114, 165, 170, 181, Recreation, 206, 208, 210ff., 220.
186. Typical Sunday-school ReUgion, 15, 17, 19, 21, 34, 109,
methods, 159, 162, 170. 112, 119, 120, 152, 153, 160,
Money, use of, 32, 33, 171. 169, 210.
Morality, moral machinery, 8, ReUgious behavior, 46, 50, 72,
18, 93, 158. See Habit. 75, 110, 161.
282
INDEX
Reproduction, process of cell
division, 136f .
Rest, a factor in health, 195.
Royce, J., 10.
S
Satisfaction, causes of, 144flF.
Self, idea of, 12, 25, 26, 132,
234, 237.
Self-control, 10, 47, 61, 74; and
democracy, 231, 236.
Service, social, 33, 66, 69, 114,
115, 164, 171.
Sex, consciousness, 127, 132;
differences due to, 88ff., 138;
education, 114, 128; interest
in, 125; separation of sexes,
100, 101.
Snobbishness, 65, 68, 237.
Social education, 78, 79, 106ff.,
109, 110, 165, 236.
Social relations, 25, 26, 77, 97,
147, 164.
Social tendencies, 5, 15, 25, 26,
68, 132, 149.
Socialization, 65, 107, 110, 132,
182.
Society and education, 3, 6.
Standards of religious conduct,
30, 46, 62, 72, 105, 237;
needed by children, 113; pro-
vided by environment. 111;
use of, 73.
Stories by an eight-year-old girl, j
241ff.
Strayer and Norsworthy, 90.
Study of children, see Observa-
tion.
Sunday, use of, 221.
Tagore, Rabindranath, The Be-
ginning, 134.
Thomas, W. I., 129.
The Last Stand, a play, 102.
Thorndike, E. L., 89, 90, 143,
145, 194.
Variation, how provided for,
137. See Individual differ-
W
Springfield Sunday-school sur- Woman, creation of, 129.
vey, 122, 123.
Worship, 80, 172. See Prayer.
14 DAY USE
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LOAN DEPT.
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