











THE UNFOLDING LIFE

A Study of Development with Reference to Religious Training

by

ANTOINETTE ABERNETHY LAMOREAUX

With Introduction by Marion Lawrance

1907







TO

My Precious Father and Mother,
in whose daily ministry
I have seen the beauty and learned the meaning
of Christian Nurture,
this book is affectionately dedicated.




CONTENTS

  CHAPTER

   I FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF DEVELOPMENT
  II EARLY CHILDHOOD
 III EARLY CHILDHOOD--Continued
  IV EARLY CHILDHOOD--Concluded
   V CHILDHOOD--SIX TO TWELVE
  VI THE JUNIOR AGE--NINE TO TWELVE
 VII ADOLESCENCE
VIII MIDDLE AND LATE ADOLESCENCE




INTRODUCTION


Having read with much care the proof sheets of this book, I am prepared
to say three things about it, and it gives me pleasure to say them here.

1. THE BOOK IS WELL NAMED. "THE UNFOLDING LIFE." Turn which way we will,
we see life unfolding all about us, and yet how faintly are its
mysteries understood! And is it not the one thing above all others,
which teachers, mothers, fathers and all of us, need to understand? It
is well that our attention has been called to this most vital of all
themes by a book, whose very name compels attention to its content, and
whose content is but its name in fuller treatment.

2. THE BOOK IS WELL WRITTEN. Such books as this should be read slowly
and pondered well; but this book by its fascination will tempt one to
read too rapidly. Its line of argument is logical; its diction is as
pure as the bubbling stream; its truths are evident and compelling. It
presents the purest psychology stripped of all mystifying
technicalities, and clothed in language which even a child can
understand. The reason for this is plain. It is the "Beaten Oil" drawn
from the rich and ripe experience of one of the best students of
childhood and teachers of children in our land.

3. THE BOOK IS WELL TIMED. Teachers are seeking now as never before to
understand the soil in which the living seed of God's Word is to be
cast. Nothing can be more important than this. The author deals largely
with the every day problems of the average home and Sunday School, thus
rendering the highest service to the great army of ordinary teachers and
mothers. While this book will be hailed with joy by all such, it will
nevertheless command a place by the side of the highest grade books on
the subject. There never was a time when any book on any subject was
more greatly needed than this book is needed now. It would be a boon
indeed to every home, and to every Sunday School as well, if all
teachers, mothers, yes, and fathers too, would read and re-read "THE
UNFOLDING LIFE."

MARION LAWRANCE.

Chicago, March, 1908.




FOREWORD


The greatest thing in the world is a human life. The greatest work in
the world is the helpful touch upon that life. Here and there an artist
in soul culture is found at the task, but the many are unskilled and the
product of the labor is far from a manhood "perfect in Christ."

In dealing with things, the vessel marred in the making can be set aside
or fashioned anew, but a life is for eternity. The faulty work can not
be undone. The mistake can never be wholly rectified, for life never
yields up what is given it. The look, the word, the invisible atmosphere
of the home and church, the sights and sounds of all the busy days enter
the super-sensitive and retentive soul of the child and are woven into
life tissue. Character has no other from which to fashion itself.
Therefore its final beauty and worth will be determined in large
measure by the quality of the material which entered in.

It is with earnest desire to help some parent or teacher in the divine
work of soul nurture, that this volume is offered. There is no attempt
to add to knowledge in Child Study or Psychology, but rather to
interpret certain of their fundamental facts and principles with
reference to Religious Training.




CHAPTER I

FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF DEVELOPMENT.


Row upon row they stretched, fifteen acres of regal chrysanthemums,
roses pink, yellow, white and red, fragile lilies of the valley,
carnations and vivid orchids, no two alike, yet all expressions of plant
life. Skilled gardeners from England and Germany were busy with these
exquisite flower children, watering, pruning and training upon slender
cords, that every bud might come to perfect unfolding. The laws of the
plant world and the law of each individual flower were well known to
them. They knew that all required sunshine and soil, warmth and
moisture, but in varying amount. The chrysanthemums grew in the
sunlight, while only a few days before cutting could the lilies of the
valley be released from their darkened beds. All needed cultivation but
not in the same way. Some were massed, while yonder were thousands of
carnations, and every one sole monarch of its own little garden plot.
Painstakingly and completely, day after day, the needs of each frail
life were met, until the flowers grown in this greatest of Canadian
greenhouses have become renowned far across the border for their
unsurpassed beauty, coloring and size.

The quiet walk between the glorious masses of bloom that October
afternoon brought a vision of a greater Child garden, with an infinite
variety of human plants to be tended, every one with its own
individuality, needs, possibilities and a divine purpose for it
cherished in the heart of the Heavenly Gardener. The work of nurture He
has given to parents and teachers, longing unspeakably that it shall be
so wise and tender that His plan for every life may be realized.

But as the earnest soul takes up the task, it seems so bewildering.
"Three little ones in the home, and every one different! Ten boys in the
Sunday School class and no two alike! Where does nurture begin? How is
it carried on?"

Though the differences in human lives are countless, there are certain
great likenesses. All have life, needs, possibilities; they all grow and
develop in the same general way. From these common likenesses have been
formulated a few principles which are as helpful to a child gardener as
a knowledge of the laws of plant life to one who nurtures roses and
carnations. Their understanding is not dependent upon physical
parenthood. God will interpret the meaning to any one whom He calls into
fellowship with Himself in the matchless work of soul culture.

I. The First Principle deals with the nature of life--What is it? Some
answer must be given in order to arrive at an aim, a method, and an
inspiration for work. If a child is only a beautiful figure upon which
to display dainty garments, the mother has a plain pathway marked out
for her. If a boy is a capacity to be filled, or a machine to grind out
facts or dollars, the teacher's course of action is clear.

God's conception of life is surely greater than these, yet He never
gave a definition. Jesus said it is more than meat, that it is worth
more than all the world, that it does not consist in abundance of
things, that it is eternal, but He nowhere tells us what it is, for He
can not. It is a part of God. He can only make us understand it in any
wise by giving its characteristics and values. Perhaps these may come to
us more clearly through considering first what life is not.

1. Life is not merely "plastic clay" to be moulded, or a "block of
marble" to be hewn according to the will of the sculptor.

This poetic conception emphasizes rightly the tremendous power of
environment and personality in shaping character, but it is really a
dangerous half truth. If the child were a block of marble, he would be
no different from the dead, inert lump that lies in the studio awaiting
the will of the sculptor. They would both be things. But a child has
life, and the difference between life and thing lies in an inner power
or activity which life possesses and uses when and as it will. This
activity has to be reckoned with. Sun and rain and earth can not make a
plant grow if it does not use its own mysterious inner force upon them.
No sort of influence can affect a life, if the life does not respond to
it. This response will be either receiving or rejecting the influences
that come, working with or against them. Assuredly this is a condition
very different from "plastic clay." Two great tasks, therefore, are
included in the work of nurture: the first, to see that all that comes
to plastic life from the outside is what it ought to be; the second, to
somehow arouse the power within to vigorous effort upon the best things.

2. Life is not a "pure white page," even in its beginning.

There is here also a half truth, and an error. Life is unstained by
guilt in its early years. It comes innocent from the hand of God, but
fingers long since vanished have traced lines that mar the perfect
whiteness. There are tendencies away from God as well as toward Him, and
these are not the result of environment. Environment will cultivate
tendencies but can not implant them. Favoring conditions will make an
apple tree produce magnificent apples, but they will never implant in it
any tendency to bear roses or produce thorns. Failure to recognize the
fact of two sets of tendencies in the life will lead to a fatal mistake
in nurture. Christ will be presented only as an Example and not as a
Savior also, thus setting before a life its pattern and leaving it
impotent to reach it.

3. A life in its beginning is not a "little man."

The element of truth in this conception is perhaps less than in either
of these preceding. It is indeed true that child life is that out of
which man life is to come, but the difference is more vital than that of
inches or strength. The bulb shelters a lily life, but the difference is
greater than size. The chrysalis will bring forth the butterfly, but the
two are not identical. Childhood will unfold into manhood, but each has
its own characteristics and needs, differing in largest degree.

The physiologist tells us that it would be hard to find many important
points beyond the most fundamental laws in which the infant and the
adult exactly resemble each other. (Oppenheim.) In bodily proportions,
in actual composition of bones, muscles, blood and nerves, in size and
development of the organs, the differences are wide.

The psychologist proves that there is equal variance in mental
conditions. The man has a sense of responsibility to his neighbor and to
God, unknown to child life. He thinks and reasons and judges as the
child mind can not. His whole outlook upon life is opposite from that of
the child.

We recognize this difference in caring for the body, and the babe is fed
on milk and the boy on meat. But the difference must be recognized as
equally important in caring for the soul. Just as meat is meat, whether
minced or uncut, and therefore unsuited for a tiny life, so doctrine is
doctrine, whether stated in words of one syllable or four, and equally
unsuited to a beginning life. Paul refers to those who need milk and not
solid food, spiritually, because they are "without experience of the
word of righteousness," clearly indicating a difference in the kind of
instruction, not the amount. The subject matter must be adapted to the
life, not merely the number of syllables, the method of teaching, as
well as the length of the lesson. Without this careful adaptation of
food and method, the developing life will be under-nourished, and the
most vigorous maturity be impossible.

But these negative statements only safeguard against mistakes by telling
us what to avoid. A real working basis must be found in a positive
principle.

The study of an unfolding life at any time in its development always
reveals two supreme facts, possibilities peculiar to that period, and
self activity. The First Principle of development combines these two
facts and gives us our nearest approach to a definition.

"Life is a bundle of possibilities and self activity."

The block of marble has possibilities, so has molten metal and a tube of
paint; but life has possibilities plus inner power. The three
imperative "Oughts" for the parent or teacher are herein suggested.

First, he ought to be able to recognize each possibility as it appears.

Second, he ought to know how best to deal with it.

Third, he ought to know how to stimulate the activity to greatest
endeavor.

II. The Second Principle states the relation of nurture to the unfolding
of these possibilities.

"The direction and degree of development are largely determined by
nurture."

Every possibility in a life, unless it die out, must develop either
upward or downward, toward the best or worst. This development, whether
in a plant or a boy, depends on what is given the life to work with and
the use that is made of it, or, stated in more dignified terms--the
development is a result of influences that come to a life and the
response made to them by activity. The sort of influences and the sort
of response given will determine the sort of development. When some one
is consciously endeavoring to make both outer influences and the inner
working of the life the best possible, it is called nurture.

The responsibility that grows out of this thought of nurture is almost
crushing, yet its opportunity is sublime. To make a boy strong for his
life work, because the right word was spoken at the critical moment, the
encouragement given just when his purpose was faltering, to help a girl
reach glorious young womanhood because the inspiration came as she stood
at the parting of the ways--surely this, in a very real sense, is
working with God. The story of almost every life of marked power,
reveals a human touch at the cross roads. Is this one meaning in the
Master's words, "Inasmuch as ye did it," or "Inasmuch as ye did it not?"
"I would have been on the foreign mission field seven years ago," said a
splendid young man, "had not my Sunday School teacher laughed at me when
I told him my new born desire. I expect to go now, but what of those
seven years?"

If the home and the church should begin at once to obey God's command
to nurture the children "In the chastening and admonition of the Lord,"
with all that means, the next generation would see the kingdoms of this
world given to Christ and the advent of the King.

III. The Third Principle defines the work of nurture.

"Nurture must care for both nourishment and activity."

1. The Watch Care over Nourishment.

Nourishment is the general term for all that upon which the life feeds.
It is given both consciously and unconsciously and is absorbed in like
manner, but in its effect upon the life, the unconscious nourishment has
greater power.

(1) Unconscious Nourishment.

(a) The first factor in unconscious nourishment is personality.

Just as truly as the physical life is nourished by life, so is the
mental and the spiritual. Standards of living, ideas, a sense of values,
opinions, do not come from text-books but fathers and mothers. The
lesson from the printed page may fail to gain entrance, but the lesson
from the teacher's life, never. This explains the success of many a
humble mother and the failure of many an intellectual teacher. It is at
the very heart of all work for another.

Its first message is a personal one. It tells the worker that his life
is more compelling than his voice; that the Word must again become flesh
to give it authority. It tells him further that if he is to be the bread
of life to growing souls, his own pasturage must not be things, but in
reality, the living Christ.

The other message applies to his work. While every life that touches his
will always carry away something from the contact, the most helpful
human life can never suffice for another's nourishment. Each soul needs
the complete Christ for itself. The amazing thing among parents and
teachers is their unconcern over His absence from the lives of the
children. Years pass, and precept, lesson and admonition are given,
while Christ, the Life, is not definitely and personally offered.
"According to their pasture so were they filled." Is not this the
explanation of so many meagre lives?

(b) The second factor of unconscious nourishment is environment with
its subtle atmosphere.

The importance of environment is found in this great law, that life
tends to become like that which is around it. So strong is the tendency
that the only escape from conformity lies in real struggle. This a
little child rarely puts forth, and an adult not always, for it is far
easier to follow the line of least resistance and "be like other
people."

Growing out of this power of environment comes the problem of all
philanthropic and religious work--how to overcome the influence of
harmful surroundings. The need is obvious when the surroundings are
vicious, yet the home does not need to be in the slums to injure a
growing life. It only needs to be Christless. This may seem a very
radical statement, but it is nevertheless true. Arresting the highest
development is as truly an injury as giving to life wrong direction. Has
not a plant been positively injured when its most beautiful
possibilities are unrealized because of unfavoring conditions? Is not a
body, undersized and stunted because of lack of fresh air and food, as
truly deformed as though the back were bent? Has not that soul received
the most cruel of all injuries, when its divinest possibilities can
never be attained either because of spiritual starvation or
misdirection? The Church and the Sunday School attempt to furnish a
counteracting environment, but it is infrequent and brief. The only
power which can render this temporary, religious environment mote
effective in influencing character than a harmful, permanent one, is the
Divine. A church building or a Sunday School session of itself, can
accomplish little, placed over against a home. Methods of grading and
forms of worship are impotent in themselves. It is only a living Christ,
actually vitalizing the lesson and the sermon and the plan of work Who
makes them efficacious.

If this be so, then the teacher who goes to the home itself to press the
claims of a personal Savior on the father and mother, has after all
reached the heart of the problem of environment.

(c) The third factor of unconscious nourishment is the Superhuman
Power.

This thought has been suggested in connection with personality and
environment, but it demands separate emphasis. It is not an easy thing
in the stress of the visible to remember the greater power of the
Invisible. The most earnest Christian worker is sometimes overwhelmed by
discouragement or, again, unduly confident because of the perfection of
system and method, forgetting that God knows no obstacle, and that He
alone can put life into a plan of work.

But though God uses men and methods, He does not always so approach a
life He deals directly with a soul through the influence of the Holy
Spirit, and life receives its most holy nurture in those sacred hours.
Therefore, the highest service permitted a Sunday School teacher is to
pray effectually for the brooding Spirit to rest upon the pupils in his
class. The mother can do nothing which shall mean so much for the
precious life in her arms as learning, herself, the secret of prevailing
prayer, for, "If we ask anything according to His Will, He heareth us;
and if we know that He heareth us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we
have the petitions which we have asked of Him." Therefore, O Lord,
"Teach us to pray."

(2) Conscious Nourishment.

This is definite instruction so given to a life that it is appropriated.
A large part of attempted instruction is never taken in. "I have told
you over and over again," says the despairing mother, but telling does
not always involve receiving. Placing nourishing food before the boy
does not necessarily mean stronger muscle and purer blood. He must eat
and digest it. Teaching, to be nourishment, requires first, careful
adaptation of the subject matter, then presentation in such a way that
the mind will voluntarily reach out, lay hold upon and assimilate it.
God again gives the key to real teaching in the word "engraft." Its
process in the physical and mental world is identical. First, the
delicate adjustment, then a vital union, and lastly, new life resulting.

2. The Watch Care over Activity.

We have considered nurture in its work of supplying the best
nourishment to growing souls, and now its care for activity must be
noted. Since the subject will be discussed more fully in a succeeding
chapter, only the necessity for the nurture will be considered here.
This necessity appears in the four-fold result of activity.

(1) New Experiences.

This is the first result to the child from ceaseless movement of hands
and feet and eager eyes. In early life he is not conscious of seeking
the new experience, he only wants to be in motion. In later life, energy
is definitely put forth for some desired end. But whatever the motive,
experiences helpful or harmful, according to the sort of activity,
result, and they enter character at par value.

(2) Growth or Increase in Size.

Activity is necessary before anything given to the body or the soul can
become a part of life. Food must be acted upon by the digestive,
circulatory and assimilative organs to make it bone and muscle and
nerve. The mind must think upon the fact in order to add it to the store
of knowledge. The heavenly vision must be obeyed before Christian
experience is enlarged by it.

But there is another aspect of this same thought. Just as truly as
activity must precede assimilation, so truly does assimilation follow
activity. It may be stated more simply in this way. Nothing can become a
part of the life until it has been acted upon; when it has been acted
upon it can not be taken out of the life. When digestion is finished and
the food is bone and muscle, it can not be withdrawn. When the idea has
been thought in or acted upon, it has by that process become a part of
the life, and though it may fade from memory its influence is abiding.

(3) Development or Increase of Power and Skill.

Every muscle exercised gains greater freedom. Every knotty problem
mastered means increased mental ability. Every victory means greater
power in resisting temptation. Whatever the action, whether good or bad,
helpful or harmful, greater skill and power in that direction follows
it.

This other very important fact needs to be clear, that no amount of
energy put forth for another will mean development for him. He must
exercise his own arm for strength and solve his own problem. Development
only comes through the effort of each individual for himself; hence the
best teacher is the one who can rouse the pupil to the greatest
endeavor.

(4) Habit Formation.

It is impossible to act, physically, mentally or spiritually, without
making it easier to repeat the action, and soon ease passes to tendency,
then tendency to compulsion, and life is in the grip of a habit. This is
the inevitable outcome of activity, until "nine-tenths of life is lived
in the mould of habit."

If it be true that habit is "ten times second nature," the importance of
directing activity toward the formation of right habits needs no
discussion.

IV. The Fourth Principle of unfolding life deals with its crises. "The
crucial points in development are those times when new possibilities
begin to unfold."

The life comes from God complete in its possibilities, but at the
beginning all is in germ. As life progresses, development of these
possibilities proceeds, but it is not uniform. The body acquires ability
to control the larger muscles before it can adjust the finer and more
complex ones, as instanced in the child's ability to walk before he can
thread a needle. The mind is able to imagine before it can reason
clearly. The feelings center on self before they reach out to the world
around. As every new possibility begins to develop, two serious facts
must be remembered:

(1) Direction must be given in the beginning before tendencies are
fixed.

A beginning is always a time of easy adjustment and flexibility.
Business corporations can readily alter a course of action before a
policy has been established. The nurseryman can easily secure the
straight trunk of the mature tree in the yielding sapling. The law is
just as true when it touches human life. The trend of any possibility is
determined largely in the beginning of its unfolding. After that time
has gone by, conditions are practically fixed, and he that is unjust
will be unjust still, and he that is holy will be holy still.

(2) Future strength and vigor are largely determined in the beginning of
development.

It is well nigh impossible to overcome the effect of early neglect. If
the culture of the growing stalk is passed over, the corn in the ear can
not be full. If the bodily needs of the boy are unmet, he can not reach
his full development as a man. If his budding intellectual life, his
awakening feeling life, or the delicate unfolding of his spiritual life
is neglected, a complete, rounded out maturity is impossible. A starved
childhood is always the prophecy of a stunted manhood, while life
nourished in its beginning foretells vigorous maturity.

V. The very important question now arises, "How may these crucial times
be recognized?" The answer is given in the Fifth Principle. "A new
interest always accompanies an awakening possibility."

The increasing love of a story discloses a growing imagination. The
passionate hero worship of a boy's heart reveals the fact of a budding
ideal. The interest in clubs and desire for companionship tell of
awakening social feelings. Life is always the exponent of its own need
to one who cares to know, and it further reveals what should be given
it, and how.

VI. The Sixth Principle has already been touched upon in the preceding
discussion, but it needs the emphasis of special statement, because of
its importance. "Development is from within, out, through what is
absorbed, not from without, in, through external application without
absorption."

If development were a matter of external application, the post would
grow and the stone and the stick, because they have earth and air and
moisture around them. If it came from without, in, the most admonished
child would be the best, the most talked to pupil the wisest, but the
reverse is usually true. That which adheres simply to the surface of
rock and child is veneer, which the testing circumstance will rub off.
Only that which is assimilated is of any value to the life.

These are the great principles revealed in the development of life from
infancy to maturity. The factor of human contact appears in every one.
The question, "What is my touch upon this unfolding life?" can not be
evaded. The stonecutter takes the marble and hews out the rough block;
the sculptor finds its hidden soul. The artisan takes the canvas and the
common sign appears; the artist makes it immortal. But God gives life to
parents and teachers to fashion. Will hands clumsy and unskilled, miss
the perfect beauty, or the touch of master workmanship bring forth a
likeness to the Christ?




CHAPTER II

EARLY CHILDHOOD


The first period of life, Early Childhood, includes the years from birth
to about six or, in Sunday School phraseology, the "Cradle Roll," from
birth to three, and the "Beginners," from three to six.

It is a temptation to note at length the marvelous achievements of a
little life in its earliest years, as it comes,

    "Out from the shore of the great unknown,
    Blind and wailing and alone,
    Into the light of day.
           *       *       *       *       *.
    "From the unknown sea that reels and rolls,
    Specked with the barks of little souls,
    Barks that were launched on the other side,
    And slipped from Heaven on an ebbing tide."

The wealth of material, however, clustering around each period of
developing life is so great that selection must be made. Therefore only
those facts illuminating the chosen theme of religious nurture will be
considered.

The baby's world is a "big, blooming, buzzing confusion," according to
James, but gradually, cosmos emerges from chaos. The senses, clouded at
first, become clear and active. Adjustment and voluntary control of the
larger muscles are secured. The art of walking is mastered, and the
great feat of learning a language practically unaided, is well under
way. The awakening mind learns to know certain objects and simplest
relationships within a very limited sphere, and through ceaseless
activity, new experiences are constantly coming in to the soul.

Guided by instinct and impulse, responding to any wind that blows,
sensitive and retentive as the plate of a camera,

    "Just a-yearning
    To be learning
    Anything at all,"

can any religious nurture be given to this tiny little bundle of
possibilities? Manifestly, it will not be through precept and
admonition, for they are meaningless, yet never will life be more open
to the influences of impression and atmosphere than at this time. The
child can not understand their import as they come, but he will feel
them. He does not understand love, but he feels it. He can not
comprehend personality, but his restless little body grows quiet in the
tender arms of a strong father. He responds to the fretfulness or
gentleness of the mother, the noisy confusion or peace of the home.
These multitudinous impressions become his life, though he can not grasp
their meaning.

Just as surely does he drink in impressions which have the Divine
element. What they speak to him only God knows, but some message is
theirs. The picture of the "Good Shepherd," of "Jesus Blessing Little
Children," of the "Madonna and Child," perform their silent ministry to
his soul. He is peculiarly sensitive to the reverence and worship in
lofty music. In the evening tide of a Sabbath day, a father was seated
at the piano, while the two older children stood near, and a wee one of
two and a half years listened from his mother's arms. The songs used in
Sunday School were sung one after the other, and then came the baby
voice, "Papa, sing about Dod." "Do you mean, 'Holy, Holy, Holy is the
Lord'?" he asked. "Yes," was the answer, and in the hush of the
twilight, the worship of the children blended with the worship of the
angels, and who shall say they did not all behold the Father's face?

The nurture of these years is as silent as that of the dewdrop upon the
blade of grass, but it is as real. God's voice is the still, small voice
that ever speaks in quietness. The stillness of the moment at the
mother's knee, the prayer repeated in the reverent, low tone of the
mother's voice, the earnest prayer for him offered in his presence, the
Christ-like living in the home, all carry their holy influence to his
soul. He feels God, without knowing Him. But there shall come a day when
the Voice that has gently called him will be recognized, and he will
say, "Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth."

But general nurture must be supplemented by the definite nurture of
each growing possibility. Though the principles underlying this careful
watch care and training are stated in connection with Early Childhood,
they are applicable to every succeeding period where the same power is
developing.

PHYSICAL ACTIVITY

The most marked characteristic of the entire period of early childhood
is physical activity, manifesting itself largely in restlessness. The
nervous force which later will be used in complex mental processes, now
seeks expression through hands and feet and tireless body.

In early infancy activity is entirely purposeless and unwilled, merely
the instinctive movement of every part of the body. Gradually, however,
through the contact with different objects brought about by his
restlessness, the baby learns to reach out for what he wants, and
purpose in the activity begins to appear. Later, play affords an outlet
for the constant flow of this pent-up power, and the child lives over
again those activities of the busy life around which appeal to him.

From the previous discussion of activity, we know that the child is
bringing about far-reaching results, all unconscious to himself, through
this never ceasing restlessness of every waking moment. He is growing,
through the kneading process of constant movement; he is developing
freer use of his muscles; he is building new experiences into character,
and he is forming habits of life. How then may this great force be
nurtured so that greatest results shall follow?

The law of activity must first be understood. It has been very
succinctly stated, "Activity must act, explode or cease to generate."

If it cease to generate entirely it means death, for every organ of the
body is using it. If it lessen in amount, it means lowered vitality, and
indicates illness or abnormal conditions in some way. The over-strained
mother who says to a little one of this age, "I wish you could keep
still for five minutes," does not realize what she is expressing. It has
been demonstrated in scientific tests, that the perfectly normal child
under six can keep absolutely still but few consecutive seconds,
therefore the desire could only be fulfilled through some disturbed
physical condition which would lessen the amount of life itself. Any
diminution is everywhere felt, for the same activity which impels hands
and feet, impels also the hungry senses, the eager curiosity and every
part of a growing mental life. Fortunately for the child, God's finger
is on the dynamo of his life, and as long as He wills the activity can
not cease to generate.

There are but two alternatives left, an action or an explosion, for
activity can no more be confined than steam in an engine. If the
explosion has occurred, it has resulted from successful repression. The
stopper, "Don't," has been inserted in the last opening through which
the nervous force could expend itself, and after a moment of dangerous
calm, the inevitable occurs, and the happiness and peace of the entire
home is for the time destroyed. The result is just as sure as that of
confining an expanding gas, while its disaster is wrought in the mental
and moral as well as the physical realms. Fortunately again for the
well-being of the child, it is difficult to secure the last outlet, so
fertile is his busy brain.

But without the explosion, the results that come to a child from a
policy of repression are very serious. Briefly stated, they are first,
irritability and nervousness. The refinement of cruelty is dealt to a
little child, compelled by superior force to act contrary to God's law
for him and "Keep quiet." Activity which should normally be expended,
when confined, reacts upon the cells of the body so that soon there are
physical reasons beyond the child's control for his nervousness and
crossness.

Second, Friction, in which defiance and stubbornness appear. The
severest test which could be imposed upon adults would be a constant and
apparently arbitrary thwarting of their desires. Is it to be wondered at
that a little, unreasoning life which hears "don't" by the scores of
times from morning till night, grows rebellious, vindictive and
obstinate?

Third, Unhappiness and a sense of alienation. Sympathy between two
persons is impossible when they are at cross purposes, and happiness
which is God's gift to childhood can never be realized when souls are
out of touch. Further, discouragement and consequent loss of incentive
to effort must inevitably overwhelm a little life that never does
anything right.

Fourth, weakened will and character. This is the most serious result of
all. One of the great principles already stated makes it clear that
development can come only through the activity of the individual
himself. If the child is constantly withheld from doing by the word
"don't," he can not reach the fullest development of character.
Furthermore, character is not built negatively but positively. A
building can never be erected by merely keeping out of it all unworthy
material. There must be an actual putting together of brick and mortar,
and the great truth is evident that whenever a place is filled by the
good, the bad is in that very act kept out, whether in buildings or
character. The motive back of many a "don't" is worthy, and often there
may be no alternative but to instantly check an action, but for the
effect on character building there is a more excellent way than
repression. It lies in the expression suggested in the law of activity,
but expression under direction.

Some parents realize the necessity of allowing the child's activity to
be expended, but fail to see the other side of the matter, namely, that
while activity means development, the sort of development that follows
will depend on the character of the activity. It is important that a
boy's energy be given an outlet, but it is more important whether it
make of him a gentleman or a hoodlum. The guidance or neglect of the
activity will determine which it is to be.

Too frequent emphasis can not be put upon the fact that every outgoing
activity traces a little deeper some pathway that tends toward a habit.
The mistake is often made of thinking that habits can be formed only by
"taking thought." It is true that some of the finest habits of life are
built into character with painstaking effort, but untidiness and
selfishness and irreverence and all their kin reach fullest unfolding in
the thoughtless outflow of activity, when no one is attending.

But activity, untrammeled, means more than wrong habits. It means
lawlessness and undisciplined character. The child who has learned no
higher authority for his acts than his own erratic whims, has laid good
foundation for future disregard of the laws of man and God.

The converse of all that has been said concerning both repression and
neglect of activity characterizes its wise direction. When the child,
ignorant and unskilled, hears a voice saying, "This is the way, walk ye
in it," his willing response means activity going out in right channels
or the formation of right habits. It means a dual joy for him, the joy
of activity itself and also the joy from the approval and sympathy of
the parent or teacher. Under encouragement he puts forth greater
effort, which means constant development of greater power. Yet more than
all, it means that he is learning the greatest lesson of early life,
obedience.

Obedience is only activity under law. It begins with submission to the
will of the parent, but when at last it is a response of the whole life
to the will of God and rendered of voluntary and loving choice, it has
reached its highest unfolding. This is the goal toward which all nurture
of activity must be directed, else no life is safe after it goes out
from the restraints of the home. In the heart of the parent who is a
seer, the mere closing of the door or putting away of the toy in
response to a request is not the thing most desired, for that is
external and true obedience is internal. The father, possessing insight,
wants the heart as well as the hand of the boy to close the door or put
away the toy. Without this, no victory is gained. The act itself is the
least of all. "Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire. ... Then
said I, Lo, I come. ... I delight to do Thy will, O my God; yea, Thy law
is within my heart." This attitude of voluntary heart acquiescence to
the will of another is never the product of compelling power, else God
would force His children to obey, since obedience is the thing He most
desires. Force can sway the hand but not the heart. Paul, whose tireless
activity spent itself out under the direction of his Master, discloses
the great secret when he says, "The love of Christ constraineth us." The
eternal Father says to His child, "I have loved thee with an everlasting
love; therefore with loving kindness have I drawn thee."

It is by love, by words of approval, by patient encouragement and help,
and also by experiencing the consequences of each act, whether joyous or
painful, that the child is led to follow the one who points out the path
for his activity. Soon he faces the words, "right," and "wrong," and
though knowing only at first that "right" is the thing permitted, and
"wrong," the thing denied, he feels the difference in the results of
each. Then he learns that the pathway of the thing called "right," is
not an arbitrary one laid down by mother or teacher, but the pathway
traced by God Himself, wherein we all must walk, parent and child,
teacher and pupil alike. When with dimmest understanding but loving
heart, he first sets faltering foot in that path, because he catches
glimpse of its shining light, that "shineth more and more unto the
perfect day," the one who has nurtured him will hear God's voice
speaking to his soul, "Well done, good and faithful servant."


HUNGRY SENSES

Hungry senses, directed in their quest by a hungrier mind, mark the
second great characteristic of early childhood. These are the channels
through which the world around comes into the life of the child. The
sights and sounds of the physical realm, when carried beyond the portals
of the senses, under the marvelous transmutation of God's touch, become
ideas. The process, in so far as its secret has been revealed, will not
be discussed at this point, but rather the relation of these impressions
to character.

In early years the senses are undiscriminating as far as the real worth
of an impression is concerned. The vulgar picture will be admired as
quickly as the beautiful one, if its colors are attractive. The impure
word is caught as readily as the pure. There is no standard of values;
even taste is not yet formed, and eyes and ears hungrily reach out for
anything to satisfy their voracious appetite. Each sensation which is
reported to the mind through the senses and intricate nervous system,
supplies an idea, embodying itself. It is with these that all the
thinking of the child is done, these rouse his feelings and prompt his
actions and, finally, mean character. Manifestly, then, his life can be
no better than the things he sees and hears, handles and tastes, for he
lives in a world of sensations and not of ideas. This was the thought of
the mother who said, "I never wash my little children's faces at night,
and put them to bed all sweet and clean on the outside, that I don't
think that I would give all the world if I could somehow get inside and
wash that too." But the inner cleansing from the influence of sight and
sound no hand can perform. God forgives sin, but even His touch does not
remove the impression of the picture or the word which memory has put
away. The only hope of beautiful character lies in bringing to the
unfolding life helpful influences which shall be stronger in their power
than the vitiating. When some definite counteracting impression is
needed, it is in the sacred confidences of the twilight hour, and at the
confessional of a mother's knee, that it can be most effectively given.

Aside from the moral import of the impressions, there is a vital
relationship between the senses and the quality of the intellectual
life. Since knowledge can come to the child only through his senses, the
amount of knowledge, as well as its sort, depends upon the story the
senses tell. If they be dull, the knowledge is meagre and life has
little with which to build. If they be defective, the impression is
either falsely reported or not at all. Tests have revealed the amazing
fact that over fifty per cent of children have imperfect sight and
hearing. This means that the first idea given through eye or ear may be
wrong; consequently each subsequent idea growing out of it is wrong, at
least in part, and ultimately, false conceptions and mistaken courses of
action appear, all traceable directly to the ear that did not hear
accurately and the eye that told a false tale.

There is also a direct connection between defective senses and conduct.
Naturally, the boy who can't see the blackboard, pays no attention to
the work placed upon it, and the child partially deaf, disregards the
words of the teacher. The overwhelming number of personally observed
cases of difficult discipline, disclosed the unvarying fact of defect,
either in the senses or the body itself. Therefore a teacher or parent
should be very sure that the "bad boy problem" is not physical rather
than moral, lest cruel injustice be done.

While the dull senses call for limitless patience, that life be not
pitifully narrow, and the defective senses call for wise and remedial
attention, the normal, keen, wide-awake senses exact the most from the
conscientious parent or teacher. Eternal vigilance is the price of
beautiful building material for the character in such an unfolding life.
Each day adds to the store put away in the brain, to reappear later. "We
must soon be careful what we do before the baby," says the mother who
half grasps the connection between impressions and character building,
not realizing that the work is already far under way, that foundations
are in. Nurture of the senses must begin with the first dim reaching out
for impressions, that only the best may enter, that right tastes may be
formed, and self control in this fiercest battle-field of life be
learned.




CHAPTER III

THE PERIOD OF EARLY CHILDHOOD--Continued.


As we come to consider the soul of the child, using this term not in its
religious sense, but to include all of life but the physical, we
understand that in reality it is indivisible. There are no separate
parts or faculties possessing unique powers such as reasoning,
remembering, feeling or willing. The whole soul remembers, feels and
wills. However, for the sake of clearness and convenience, when it is
reasoning, we are accustomed to speak of soul power in that direction as
reason, or imagining as imagination or willing as will.

We must understand, also, that the soul of the child is as complete in
its possibilities as the soul of the adult, only they are undeveloped.
As life and environment grow more complex, new needs arise and these new
needs awaken soul power in a new direction. The expression "I didn't
know he had it in him," is frequently heard, as some one has shown
unexpected ability under sudden pressure of circumstances. Every brain
has millions of undeveloped cells, scientists affirm, signifying that
every life is infinitely poorer than it might be. The need is something
to arouse its latent power.


CURIOSITY

The little child is at first in a world of total mystery. Sights,
sounds, sensations from contact come to him and all are unintelligible.
As they are carried to his brain, somewhere, somehow, they awaken a
desire to know their meaning, and as the tiny fingers are extended
toward objects the soul is reaching also. This soul reaching is
curiosity, one of God's most gracious and wonderful provisions for the
life, but so often its significance is misunderstood. If there were no
curiosity, there would never be any eager attempt to explore the field
of knowledge. The disciplined spirit of inquiry that makes for the
world's progress, is only a fuller development of the untutored and
disastrous effort of the child to find out about things. We forget that
before there can be a flower there must be a bud. Before there can be a
scientist who shall pick the rock to pieces to learn its secret, there
must be a child who picks a doll to pieces to see what is inside. The
pathos of childhood is its bowed head and mute lips under the blow and
the stinging word, because judgment is passed, not on motives, as the
parent demands for himself, but on the external appearance of the act.
We look into our Heavenly Father's face, out of the wreckage and
mistakes of a day, and say, "I meant to do it aright, but I am so
ignorant," and we are comforted that He looks at the heart and
understands. Can we be less pitifully tender toward His little ones?

There are three marked manifestations of curiosity during this period of
childhood.

(1) Questions.

In the wordless years of earliest life, mysteries around the child can
receive only partial solution. But the day comes when language gives
him a key whereby to unlock the doors, and he begins to ask, "What is
it," then "Why," and "Where," and "How." This questioning period
commences about the age of three, and is in strong evidence for some
time. The answers involve for the most part nouns and verbs, not
adjectives nor adverbs, signifying that the child is not yet ready for
abstract qualities and characteristics. Simple facts only are sought at
first. Questions concern the names of things, activities connected with
them, causes and ends and the age-long mystery of origins.

Passing by reluctantly any further discussion of this most fascinating
subject of children's questions, four great facts bearing upon nurture
must be noted.

1. Repression of the sincere questioning of a child tends to weaken his
effort to acquire knowledge.

2. Questions reveal a need felt by the child, and are a guide to the
kind of instruction he is ready to receive.

3. A question not only reveals a need, but is also an assurance that
the instruction given will be received, for what the mind wants to
learn, it will learn.

4. A sincere question demands a sincere answer.

This statement would seem superfluous, if its need were not apparent in
questions dealing with the origin of life. God gives to the mother,
first, the sacred privilege of investing these most holy mysteries with
purity and sanctity, and through this confidence drawing the life of the
child into closer fellowship with her own. If the opportunity be cast
away through the evasive or untruthful answer, the facts may come with a
taint upon them which can never be wholly removed.

(2) Mischief.

(3) Destructiveness.

A word must suffice upon these other manifestations of curiosity. When
truly understood, they reveal only an eager mind trying to obtain new
experiences to add to knowledge. It is not total depravity that leads a
child to pull the articles from the workbasket, or tear the book, or
demolish the toy. He merely wants to see the object under as great a
variety of conditions as possible, to find out all he can about it. It
is identical with the spirit of the scientist who essays new
combinations to see what the results may be, only in its inception it is
crude and unskilled.

Assuredly, instead of dealing harshly with an instinct which in later
years may make the whole world richer, it would be wiser to give it
legitimate outlet. Toys and blocks which admit of being taken apart and
readjusted may begin the training of an Edison or a Stephenson.


INTERESTS

Just as in the realm of the physical, appetite for one sort of food may
be greater than for another, even in hunger, so a varying appetite
appears in connection with the soul hunger of curiosity. It is strongest
in the direction of that in which the life is naturally interested at
any given time.

The interests of early childhood are primarily in things which exhibit
or suggest activity and in simplest relationships, found in the little
world bounded by home, neighborhood, Kindergarten and Sunday School.
Nature makes strong appeal, not on the aesthetic side of tint and
shadow, but through the charm of her multiform movements and family life
akin to the child's. The bird's nest fascinates because there is
connected with it the story of the building and the hungry little brood
it sheltered. Tales of animals, fairies and real folk, busy in simple
and familiar occupations hold him entranced, and he will watch with rapt
attention the performance of most common tasks. It is noteworthy that
his interest in all this is not so much in the end to be accomplished,
as in the activity itself. Even in his play, the preparations are often
more delightful and satisfying than the game which follows.

All this has a deep meaning for one who is trying to help the little
life in its unfolding.

1. "Wise education takes the tide at the flood," says James. These
interests reveal the fact that in this period, instruction should deal
with things, not with statements of ideas, apart from things, or, in
other words, with the concrete, not the abstract.

2. The greater the knowledge of things gained while interest attaches to
them, the greater the resources for clear, broad thinking as life
matures.

3. When instruction is in line with interests, attention and consequent
learning are assured.

4. The child's religious interests will be identical in character with
the other interests of this period. He will not be interested in the
Being or attributes of God, but God in His great activities as Creator
and Wonder-Worker, and in His relation as Father. Jesus will make
appeal, not in His discourses, but in His acts of helpfulness and power,
and His love.

The great law of teaching is here involved, that interest in and
knowledge of the unknown can come only through interest in and knowledge
of something which is like it. Paul says in Romans, "For the invisible
things of Him since the world began are clearly seen, being perceived
through the things that are made, even His everlasting power and
divinity." Therefore the first definite religious instruction which the
child receives, must be upon spiritual truths illustrated in his own
known world of interests.


IMITATION

The result of the efforts of curiosity, senses and activity is a
constantly increasing store of ideas in the child's mind, relating to
these things in which he is interested. As these ideas enter his mind,
applying this term to the "intellectual function of the soul," he
immediately wants to act upon them, according to a law inborn that an
idea always tends to go out into action, unless it is held back. Adults
have fixed habits of expressing ideas that come to them, but not so the
child. An interesting activity is always a suggestion to him to
reproduce it exactly, if possible. This difference between habit and
suggestion in action is illustrated in the case of a long-suffering
kitten in the hands of a resourceful child. The sight will arouse in
another child an irresistible impulse to try the same experiment, while
it always leads his mother to attempt a rescue.

This tendency to exact reproduction of activity is the instinct of
imitation, and is a marked characteristic of childhood. As these words
are written, a glance through the window discloses surveyors at work
with tape and red chalk. Following in their wake is a five year old with
diminutive string and piece of red crayon, laying out distances and
taking measurements, in exact copy of his predecessors, a genuine
"pocket edition" of the original.

While such elaborate exactness characterizes imitation in this period of
childhood alone, the impulse to conform is never entirely lost. The
desire grows more complex and general as the years go on, and from
reproduction of definite acts, the life tries to emulate the spirit and
achievements of its hero, and later to be in some harmony, at least,
with public opinion. Brave, indeed, is the soul that dares to be a
nonconformist in regard to the standards "they" have established.

The results of imitation are profoundly important in character
building.

1. When a child re-enacts what he sees, he comes to a better
understanding of its meaning. This is one purpose of the imitation of
common activities in Kindergarten games.

2. The idea which is acted upon becomes an inseparable part of the life.

3. Habit is the outcome of repeated imitation.

4. Life grows like what it imitates.

With these facts in view, the application to the work of nurture is too
obvious for discussion.


IMAGINATION

The child is not content alone to imitate activities. He likes to
transform objects and make over familiar situations. This he does
through that power of his soul called imagination.

The imagination of this period is "fancy-full," crude, and unbridled by
reason or will. The child lives in a world of make believe. He sees
whole menageries in the back yard, and performs exploits worthy of a
David or Samson. He gives soul to inanimate objects, and endows them
with feelings like his own. He plays with companions of his own
creation, and peoples the dark with weird forms. Things are changed at
will to suit his whims, the stick becoming the untamed steed and the
rocking chair the storm-tossed boat. The magic of his alchemy may extend
to himself, and make him for days another person, or even an animal.

This world of make believe is as real to him as the world which is seen
through his eyes, and often he can not distinguish between the two. Many
a little heart has quivered over the punishment inflicted for "lying",
when willful misrepresentation was not in his thoughts. However, harsh
treatment of a vivid imagination may result in real deception later on,
for the child can not help "seeing things," too wonderful to be enjoyed
alone, and then, perforce, there must be deliberate planning to escape
the punishment.

This harshness also begins to raise an invisible barrier between the
child and parent. It was felt by a little maiden of rare fancy, who
said in a whisper at the conclusion of one of these marvellous tales,
"But don't tell Mamma." The impassable wall between many a mother and
daughter in later years, once consisted of but a scattered stone here
and there.

Passing by the play life of the child where the imagination has fullest
scope, the question arises as to the meaning of this power in character
building. One purpose stands paramount over every other. It is the
"ideal making factory" of the life. From transforming sticks and chairs,
the soul will one day pass to transforming memories and thoughts,
putting away the unattractive features and investing the attractive with
even more charm, through dreams of what might be. From constructing
houses out of blocks, the soul will begin to construct ideals out of its
experiences and visions, according to a pattern shown on some mount.

As childhood recedes and manhood beckons, the soul unveils this ideal,
fashioned in its secret workshop out of all that appeared most
desirable, and with strange, magnetic power, it begins to draw the life
after it. Worthy or unworthy, the years to come will see some part, at
least, of the ideal, a reality. The character of the imagination,
therefore, becomes a matter of supreme concern to nurture. It will be
healthy or diseased morally, according to the quality of the material
supplied for its use. The two great sources of this material are every
day experiences and the story. The meaning of these experiences to the
child's life has already been emphasized in various connections, and
repetition is unnecessary, but the story holds a unique place in point
of influence. Since it comes with deepest significance to the child in
the next period of development, when imagination is less mixed with
fancy, its discussion will be reserved for that time.


MEMORY

The child has an unfortunate experience with a hot stove and tender
fingers bear the cruel scar. Must some one always watch him, year after
year, to save him from a succession of burns? He is taken to school by
his mother; must she forever accompany him to insure his safe arrival?
Is there no way of understanding a present experience except by passing
through it? Life would be an unsatisfactory thing indeed, if this were
true, but the soul has the power of retaining past experiences in order
that they may throw light upon the present. The business man does not
deliberately do again that which was disastrous before, for he remembers
the past misfortune. The child will not tomorrow press his little burned
hand against the heated iron, for he recalls the pain of yesterday. This
gracious gift of God to life, we call memory. Without it, there could be
no understanding, no reasoning, no imagination, no knowledge, no growth.

The physical side of memory is most interesting. On the covering of the
brain, each in its own place, the images or impression brought in by the
senses and the activity are registered. So sensitive and susceptible are
the brain cells during childhood, that these impressions are received as
clay receives the touch of the sculptor's finger, and under right
conditions, they are ineffaceable. When the soul acts upon these images,
they live again, and we say, "We remember."

Two important questions are suggested by these facts. First, what kind
of impressions should we attempt to store in the memory during
childhood? Second, how may these impressions be made permanent?

To the first question, the child himself makes answer through what he
most easily retains and through his needs.

Since he is interested and curious in regard to things, since he spends
all his physical activity upon them, since he desires them and thinks
about them, we would expect that things, together with experiences and
ideas associated with them, would naturally fill his memory. Any
observer of childhood knows that this is true. The memory of a little
child is overwhelmingly for the concrete, the impressions through the
senses and from what he does being far more easily retained than ideas
alone. A child will recall the story of the Good Samaritan more readily
than the isolated verse, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." The
reward or punishment of an act makes a more lasting impression than the
dissertation upon it. Since the concrete must be the starting point of
thinking, it must come to his soul at some time, and, judged by every
condition, this is God's time for it.

The child's needs are also a guide in this matter. The soul is growing
in every direction, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually if
properly nurtured, and memory holds the constantly increasing food for
its growth. Is it to be treated as a stockroom, where packages
unavailable for the present are to be laid away until needed, or as a
store-house supplied with nourishing food for the present? If memory is
a stockroom, then it should be filled with definitions, statements,
terms, facts, anything which may be needed sometime. This can be done,
for the brain will retain the sound of the words, but meantime, what
shall the child feed on? What shall he use? The soul can feed on or make
use of only that which is at least partially understood. This means
largely the concrete, for abstract statements can be understood only
through the experience or reason, and the child has meagre resources in
either direction. Only when a thought embodies what he has experienced,
can he grasp and use it.

Is it not the work of nurture to see that memory is provided with that
out of which it can supply every need of the developing life today?
That, "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of
things not seen," may mean much to his mature heart, but what if the
child should be frightened tomorrow and need to have his budding faith
strengthened from memory? Would not the story of God's care over the
baby Moses, Jesus' care for the disciples in the blackness of the storm,
with the words, "He careth for you," if these were stored in memory,
quiet more quickly the beating heart, and more surely increase his
faith? True nurture will not starve life in the present to hoard for the
future. Memory now requires all its store for immediate use. Later,
after growth is well under way in every direction, memory not only can
supply present needs, but it will also demand a surplus for future use.

The second question, relating to the permanency of these impressions, is
answered in meeting the following conditions:

1. A healthy, non-fatigued brain when the impression is made.

2. Close attention.

3. A clear, easily understood and forceful presentation of the thing to
be remembered.

4. The use of as many senses as possible. When an impression has been
given through eye and ear and touch, for example, it is more definite in
the mind than when it has come only through the sense of hearing.

5. A natural association of the new impression with others well known
and interesting to the child.

6. Immediate and frequent recall.




CHAPTER IV

THE PERIOD OF EARLY CHILDHOOD--Concluded

THE FEELINGS


A child receives a coveted toy and his face is aglow with delight. He is
sharply reproved and anger or grief appears. Another child comes to play
with him, and he may assert that all his guest desires "is mine," and
tears, and even blows ensue before amicable adjustment can be made. And
so through the hours of a kaleidoscopic day, the emotional pendulum
keeps swinging from love to anger, from pride to humility, from
selfishness to sporadic and angelic bits of generosity. What is the
significance of it all in the life of the child?

Before considering this vital question, shall we note some
characteristics of the feelings in Early Childhood?

They center about self, and instinctive feelings, such as hunger and
thirst, pain and pleasure, fear, pride and anger, are strongest. Love
is present in its first stages, not the self sacrificing sort, but love
given in response to love and attention. The child's feelings are easily
aroused, fleeting, and usually more or less superficial. Abstractions,
such as beauty, duty, responsibility, and relationships in general have
but slight effect upon his soul, and the lack of feeling in these
directions is commonly expressed by saying that the higher feelings are
not yet developed.

The child's feelings in response to religious truth can not, therefore,
be those of the adult. He will feel love for God as he feels it for his
mother, because of His love, provision and care for him. God's power and
the mystery that envelops Him will awaken a response of awe and wonder
in his soul, and absolute confidence that He can do anything. But this
same power and majesty, carelessly presented, may call out fear, not the
godly sort that is afraid of grieving Him by sin, but the physical fear
that casts out love. He does not have the sense of moral obligation to
God, for that again goes into the abstraction of thought. His religious
life begins in feeling, pure and simple, and his creed is in I John, "We
love Him because He first loved us."

Most interesting lines of discussion open out from the subject, but they
are not pertinent to the chosen theme of this book. The only legitimate
question is, "What is the work of nurture in connection with the
feelings?"

Before this can be answered, the purpose of the feelings in character
building must be clear. Then we shall know what nurture must do.

No feeling has a right to exist for itself. There is a task for it to
perform, namely, to lead the soul to action. If unhindered it will
always do this. The careful analysis of any action will reveal a motive
power in some feeling, ranging from the lowest desires for self
gratification to the sublime heights of love that denies self for the
Master's sake. Knowledge alone does not suffice for action. A man may be
familiar with the claims of Jesus and even acknowledge them, but until
he feels a great need of Him, he will not become a Christian. The
sermon may compel the admiration of the mind, but unless it move the
heart no man will practice it. Jesus summed up his commands in "Love,"
not "Know," for He knew that loving meant God-like living. It is
significant that the fruitage of the Spirit appears in the feelings of
"love, joy, peace," before it can be manifest in the acts of
"long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, self
control."

This indissoluble relation between feeling and action gives deep meaning
to the words of Dr. W.H. Payne, "At least the half, and perhaps the
better half of education consists in the formation of right feelings."

The work of nurture in connection with the feelings is now apparent. It
must endeavor to develop right feelings in order to secure right actions
and consequent strong character. This development is secured through
repeatedly arousing the feelings, and giving them expression in action
until they are habitual.

1. How may the Feelings be Aroused? Passing by all the physiological and
psychological processes involved, and using the term, feeling, as it is
popularly understood, the law that governs its appearance may be stated
thus: "A feeling is occasioned by the touch of an impression upon the
soul." With older people, these impressions may come from without or
from a thought within, but with little children they come almost
entirely from without. The sort of feeling aroused will evidently depend
upon the sort of impression that comes, as well as the condition of the
soul that receives it. This difference in conditions, or difference in
lives as we ordinarily say, explains why the Sunday School lesson has
such varied effects in the same class, or even upon the same child at
different times.

Keeping in mind the law that some impression must precede a feeling,
true nurture asks, "In what way can these impressions best be given,
that desired feelings may be aroused?"

1. They are not given through command.

Common sense would recognize the absurdity of attempting to awaken
anger by saying to a group of happy children, "Be angry." But why is
the absurdity not equally apparent in saying, "Be loving," "Be sorry,"
"Be reverent?" Yet this is a method on which countless teachers and
parents place their dependence. Suppose, for instance, reverence be the
feeling desired; a thought of God's greatness and power and holiness
must be given. If, to the sensitive soul of the child, the teacher bring
the story of Sinai, or the story of Majestic Power as it is set forth in
the 104th Psalm, or the glory of the Heavenly throne with the adoring
multitudes, following with the words, softly sung,

"Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts,
Heaven and earth are full of Thee,
Heaven and earth are praising Thee,
    Oh Lord, most high."

the result will be true reverence.

2. Suggestion is a most effective way of conveying these impressions.

Instead of saying to the child, "This is the thought you should have,
and this is what you should feel, and this is what you ought to do," he
is allowed to draw meanings and have feelings of his own, for then they
are genuinely a part of his soul, not something foisted upon him.

But even though the application is not made, nurture will consciously
present impressions intended to suggest certain feelings. The Sunday
School lesson, the missionary story, the visit to the poor family, the
song carefully selected, all fall in this class. Special mention should
be made of the great effect upon the child in making attractive in
another, the feeling desired for him. A single incident will illustrate
this: A frightened little candidate for the Beginners' Class and his
stern mother stood one Sunday morning before the Primary superintendent.
"He's got to stay in here by himself today," she said; "I won't have
such nonsense. Look at him, with his first trousers on! I'm ashamed of
him!" The superintendent did look and saw the new trousers, and in them
the trembling little body, and a soul speechless with terror at facing
for the first time, alone, the unknown experience of a great world, even
though it was enclosed in four walls. There was no trace of relenting
in the mother's face, and any plea for pity was useless. But the new
trousers gave a possible key to the situation. "Why, so he has new
trousers on!" the superintendent said. "I want to see them," and very
thoroughly and enthusiastically they were inspected. "I didn't know that
he was so nearly a man that he could wear trousers instead of dresses. I
am sure he will stay alone today because men do and are not at all
afraid." She waited. Gradually the little head lifted as the thought of
bravery began to make its appeal. He put his hand into the hand of the
superintendent, and without hesitation started on the perilous journey
across the room to the Beginners' section, where no punishment could
have driven him a few moments earlier, and proud and heroic sat by
himself through the hour. Such is the power of suggestion.

Two points, however, must be carefully guarded in deliberate effort to
arouse a feeling.

1. Care must be exercised not to over stimulate feeling, as an excess
beyond that which can be expended in action has an after weakening and
reactionary effect. This has its illustration in certain methods of
evangelistic work with children, where results are measured by their
hysterical condition when the meeting concludes. Contrast with this the
gentleness which breathes through the story of the Master's touch, as He
took them in His arms and blessed them, laying His hands upon them, when
He had said, "Suffer the little children to come unto Me."

2. It is as injurious to a child to attempt to force a feeling before
its normal time, as to a bud, to pry open its petals to hasten God's
processes. Even the Divine Child "grew." "That is not first which is
spiritual, but that which is natural, then that which is spiritual," is
God's law of unfolding life.

But these consciously presented impressions form only a small part of
the sources of suggestion to the child. The countless sights and
circumstances of his everyday life all have a voice for him, and a
feeling follows their message.

Every mother who has suffered mortification over the unaccountable
behavior of her child toward a guest, knows the sometimes untoward as
well as helpful working of suggestion from personality. Atmosphere has
the same power. "I don't know what there is in your home," said a
visitor to her hostess; "I can't define it, but it makes me want to be
good." Music may be suggestive, aside from what it actually says. It
would seem as if no sane superintendent would prepare for prayer by a
two step song, or follow the lesson on, "The Washing of the Disciples'
Feet", by, "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean," but it was done. It would
seem as though no primary teacher could be so insensible to suggestion
from objects, as to try to teach worship in giving by taking the
offering through a hole in the tail of a jointed tin rooster, but that
self-same rooster is no myth.

The subject expands into endless ramifications. True nurture essays the
difficult task of analyzing the impressions that come from
suggestion--guarding against the harmful, and multiplying the helpful.

3. Impressions may be given and feelings aroused through doing the act
which would naturally result from the feeling.

This is the reason why a reverential attitude helps to arouse real
reverence, and a smiling face and cheery tone actually bring
cheerfulness in a case of the blues. Little children are so imitative
that they quickly copy the outward manifestations of a feeling, and the
inner state tends to follow. This is further a reason for leading them
into acts of loving service, that love and kindred gracious feelings may
gain strength through the reflex influence of the action upon the soul.

One word should be spoken on the negative side. Since each recurrence of
a feeling strengthens its power, nurture will seek to avoid the
conditions which would arouse wrong feelings. "But should not the child
control himself?" some one asks. Instinctive feelings are stronger than
the power of self control in the beginning, and life needs shielding
more than testing. God says, "Fathers, provoke not your children to
anger," or, literally, "Fathers, irritate not your children beyond
measure, but nourish them fully in the instruction and admonition of the
Lord."

2. The Expression of the Feelings.

Every normal feeling tends irresistibly to express itself in action
unless it is held in leash. The story of the poor family needs the
addition of no impassioned appeal; the child is already wondering
whether he can empty his bank for their help. If expression is denied to
the feeling, it tends to die out, and continual repression means a
lessening either in power to act or power to feel. "Sentimentalists"
have lost power to act except in tears or ejaculations when their
emotions are stirred, and "hardened" people have lost the power to feel
under ordinary stimulation. Therefore nothing is more fatal to vigorous
development of the feelings of the child than to allow them to be
dissipated without expression in the action they naturally suggest.

But nurture will see that little hands are allowed to hinder by
"helping" to make the beds, or dust the room or carry the package, not
simply that love may grow stronger, but that in after years there may
be the desire to lift the burdens in reality from wearied shoulders, for
the higher feelings of life develop from the instinctive feelings, if
they have proper expression in the beginning. Love that is almost barter
in early years, since it is bestowed for value received, if given
constant expression in acts of helpfulness, will become the self-denying
love of later years. Love for self, which is so strong in a child, can
be developed toward its manifestation of self respect, by using it at
first in childhood, "to help this good body grow both strong and tall."
Childish hate may be directed against wrong things, in preparation for
indignation against sin of future years. It must not be forgotten,
however, that in God's economy every feeling, if properly used, has its
work to do in character building in every stage of its development, so
that even the foundation stones may be laid in beauty and strength.


THE WILL

The power of the soul to make deliberate choice of action, and
unwaveringly to execute it, is undeveloped in this period of Early
Childhood. The child does not balance reasons or desires. Instead, he
acts impetuously and unthinkingly, as the feeling of the passing moment
impels him. Often one desire so completely absorbs his mind as to
obscure everything else, and he will make any effort to gain his end.
His case is like that of a man who "sets his heart" on a thing, or who
harbors an alluring temptation too long, until it overpowers him. This
is the explanation of most cases of obstinacy and strong will, as is
proven by the disappearance of the "will" when the mind is diverted.

One of the deepest desires of every parent and teacher is that there
shall in truth be a strong will as the life matures, and so its training
is sought. But just what is meant by it? We know there is no separate
faculty to be strengthened as the arm is strengthened. What can be
trained? The only training possible is in helping the soul to form the
habit of choosing to do the right thing, or, analyzing still more
closely, of following the promptings of the noblest feelings of the
heart.

The inseparable relation between feeling and action has been noted. If
the noblest feelings can be made the strongest, they will be followed.
The previous discussion shows that their strength is increased every
time they are aroused and acted upon, and this leads to habit in both
feeling and action. The nurture of the will or executive power of the
soul is seen, therefore, to be most intimately connected with the
nurture of the feelings, and its work will consist in making the right
course of action so appealing that the child will desire and choose it
for himself, until it becomes habitual, and consequently, undebatable.
Forcing him to follow it, secures the action; it does not arouse the
feelings that would lead him to choose to do the act himself.

An act compelled is like an apple tied to a fruit tree; it did not grow
there and has no connection with the life of the tree. A fruit tree that
can not bear its own fruit is worthless, and a life that does not reach
the point of producing its own right actions, independent of human
coercion, is a failure. The comparison may be pressed still further. No
quantity of apples tied upon a tree will ever make it produce apples,
and even so, no number of right acts imposed upon a child will, in
itself, make him do right things voluntarily. This can only come through
strengthening in his own soul the processes that lead to right action.
The truth of this is proven in the case of thousands of boys who did the
right things at home because they were compelled to do so, but when they
left home they went wrong. The one who should have nurtured was too
busy, or too thoughtless, to take the time to lead into strength and
uprightness the thinking and feeling and choosing of the soul while it
was developing. It was easier to say peremptorily, "Do this," with the
inevitable result, that when compulsion was removed character gave way
because it was weak.

But some one is saying, "That is a very questionable doctrine; 'Let the
child do as he pleases, if he don't want to do the right, don't force
him.'"

Such a deduction from the argument entirely misses the point. The child
must do the right, but, in a nutshell--which is the stronger
constraint--outer or inner? Which makes character surer, the voice
without, saying, 'You must,' or the voice within which says it? No
external power could have made Paul's record of service, or Brainerd's
or Paton's. All the force of the Russian government was powerless to
obtain that which each Japanese soldier poured out upon his country's
altar in the fight for supremacy in Manchuria. These deeds are the
soul's response to the most irresistible power in the world--a consuming
passion. It was such a passion, intense beyond earthly fathom, that led
the Savior through Gethsemane to Calvary.

Because this is so, the Heavenly Father's effort to secure right action
from His children is not evident in external compulsion. Through His
favor and fellowship, the joy of His approval, the peace that passeth
understanding, the "Well done," the eternal reward, He endeavors to
arouse love for Himself and what He desires, in order that His will may
be chosen.

According to this Divine pattern human nurture labors. At the very
first, the parent must make choice for the child, but earlier than is
usually appreciated, definite training may be begun. The loving smile of
the mother and her known wish, her approval or disapproval, her
recognition and encouragement, the knowledge that, "Whatsoever a man
soweth that must he also reap," gained through bearing the penalty or
enjoying the reward of each choice, the right course made attractive in
the story of some one who chose it, or, most magnetic of all, in the
life of the one who is nurturing, all these will begin to arouse the
inner constraint that compels, and with glad acquiescence the soul will
say, "Necessity is laid upon me."

When the life shall learn that the most blessed joy that inheres in
right actions is not human approval but God's favor, and for His sake,
with face steadfastly set, the right is followed, even though shorn of
all external attractiveness, the highest development possible for a
soul has been realized.


APPLICATION TO SUNDAY SCHOOL WORK

The Sunday School is such an important factor in religious training that
a special application of the foregoing discussion to its methods and
work seems wise. It is evident that plans can not be detailed, but only
some principles underlying the methods be suggested.


THE CRADLE ROLL

In the first department known as the Cradle Roll, nurture can be given
by the Sunday School only as it touches the parents. Any Cradle Roll
work that culminates in the sentiment of securing the babies' names and
calling them, "Our Sweet Peas", has missed its purpose. A peculiar
opportunity comes with the flood tide of new parental love. "If I had
not been a Christian when my boy was born, I could very easily have been
led to Christ, my heart was so tender and full of gratitude," said the
father of an only son.

The Sunday School will nurture its babes through choosing as Cradle
Roll Superintendent, a consecrated Christian woman, trained in the
school of life's experience, who can come close to other mothers because
she, too, has known the valley of the shadow and the sacred joy of a new
born life in her arms. A unique opportunity is hers to lead the parents
to Christ or into closer fellowship with Him, and to help them
understand the meaning of the life He has lent them.


THE BEGINNERS' DEPARTMENT

The Beginners' Department will care for the years between three and six.
Nurture will be concerned first with the teacher.

The Teacher.--The child's conception of Christ will be what he sees in
the teacher. He can not conceive of any love or tenderness or gentleness
greater than appears in her. A mother came to the teacher of her little
boy one day and said, "John was playing on the floor this afternoon, and
all at once he stopped and watched me, and then said, 'Mamma, I wish you
were as much like Jesus as my teacher is'" The lesson, the music, the
prayer and all the differentiation of the day and place tend to elevate
the teacher above those who share his daily life, and envelop her with
an atmosphere more mystic and holy. She is connected not with clothes
and bread and butter episodes, but wholly with the thought of Jesus, and
stands by His side in the child's thought and love, and if he love not
the teacher whom he has seen, he can not love God whom he has not seen.
Even the physical charm of the teacher will make his picture of the
Christ more beautiful. Nurture demands above all else that the teacher
of a Beginners' Class suggest "One altogether lovely," to the sensitive,
imaginative and imitative soul of the child, for her message to him is
ever silently, but irresistibly, "Be ye imitators of me as I am of
Christ."

The Place.--The place of meeting must fulfill certain conditions to give
proper nurture.

Because of the restlessness of these years, it ought to afford
opportunity for physical movement. Even if a separate room is not
available, screens or curtains should make it possible for the children
to change their position frequently. The separation will also remove the
temptation for curiosity to obtain satisfaction through roving eyes. The
place should provide comfortable seating arrangements, for impressions
carried within from strained muscles and tired limbs are far stronger
than from ideas that the teacher gives, and these will consequently
receive the attention.

But it is not sufficient to plan for seclusion and comfort. Nurture
thinks beyond and deeper than this. The child is gaining his first
impressions of religious things during these years, and his ideas will
be derived from what his senses give him. There is no way to give him
the thought of the beauty of holiness, and the joy that the religion of
Jesus Christ brings, except to make every thing associated with it as
glad and beautiful as may be. Choice pictures, flowers, sunshine, order,
all mysteriously transmit their beauty to the child's thought of God.
The more attractive the visible things, the more magnetic the charm of
the invisible. "Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God hath
shined."

The Equipment.--The equipment is not to be a heterogeneous collection of
things, and yet the child must be taught through his senses. A Bible
which can be kept before the children and reverently handled, to teach
reverence by suggestion, is of first importance. Little chairs, or an
equally comfortable substitute, a blackboard and an instrument, if
possible, will give good working capital.

Since taste is forming at this time and every thing has an influence in
determining its direction, the beautiful pictures in black and white are
gaining favor through their artistic execution and subdued coloring. To
this equipment may be added special objects designed to make the facts
of special lessons clearer--the sand table occasionally, or models.
Thoughtful teachers are more and more convinced that while Kindergarten
principles should obtain, the Kindergarten should not be moved bodily
into the Sunday School. Values must be balanced, and over against the
reasons which might be given for bringing in all the equipment of the
week-day environment, there is this great fact:--the child is to be
taught that religion is the supreme thing in the world, and he can learn
it only by differentiating it in a tangible way from other things. This
means that the methods, music, material and beauty associated with it
ought to make it distinctive, and more attractive than any of the
week-day surroundings.

After he learns that it is the chief thing in the world, he can learn
how to bring it down to the common things of life without sacrificing
its supremacy, instead of dragging the every-dayness into it.

The Program.--The program must be varied, because self control is weak,
and attention will be given to one thing only so long as interest is
active. Music should have a prominent place, provided it is meaningful,
choice, and suggestive of the thought desired, in music as well as
words. Since this is the rhythmic and imitative period of life, motion
songs can be occasionally used, provided the motions are not mechanical
and artificial. The foot notes which say that at I the hands should be
clasped, at 2 they should wave, and at 3 be raindrops, miss the point of
a motion song. Unless the child spontaneously expresses the thought
which the song suggests to him, the motions have no value, aside from a
rest exercise.

The entire program should be planned around the thought of leading the
child into a genuine love for God. Nature is beautiful, but its place in
Sunday School is subordinate to Him. The most exquisite song that ends
with birds and flowers falls below the highest nurture. Love must be
both aroused and expressed during the hour's session. Music, Scripture,
the enumeration of His blessings, the joy over birthdays and new
scholars He has sent, the lesson, the carefully selected pictures and
stories of what His love has done for other boys and girls unlike them,
an atmosphere of gladness and reverence will kindle it; the offering
service, the prayer, Scripture and music will express it. The suggestion
from teacher, place, program and lesson combined, should be a great,
wonderful God who loves little children, as well as a Christ who took
the children in His arms.

The Lesson.--The course known as "The Two Years' Course for Beginners"
affords the best subject matter for the lessons for the following
reasons:

1. Bible truths needed first in the life of a little child have been
carefully selected and arranged in their logical order.

2. As many lessons as are needed to make each truth clear and to fix it
in memory are devoted to it.

3. The setting for the truths to be taught is given in stories, not
abstract statements.

4. The same Golden Text is used for all the lessons teaching one truth,
is simple, intelligible and, by repetition in connection with several
lessons, can be fixed.

5. The pictures accompanying the lessons are very choice both in theme
and execution.

Since the only ideas the child will receive of the lesson must come
through his senses and bodily activity, and since, of his senses, sight
and touch make a clearer impression than hearing, large use should be
made of them. Further, as this is the period of imitation of definite
acts, the lesson should present forcibly and fascinatingly, an activity
within his power to imitate.

The end sought, as a result of the nurture of this period, is that the
child may become truly a child of God, and never know a time when he did
not love Him.

This may be achieved, for the heart of a little child is open and
peculiarly sensitized to the matchless story of Jesus Christ. When it is
presented to him aright, he always responds in faith and love. In this
response, the conditions upon which spiritual sonship is conferred are
met, for, "As many as received Him, to them gave He the right to become
children of God, even to them that believe on His name."




CHAPTER V

CHILDHOOD--SIX TO TWELVE


No abrupt change marks the transition from the period of Early Childhood
to Childhood, but development is continuous and rapid in every
direction. The larger social world, entered through school life, and the
new intellectual world, revealed through ability to read, widen the
child's vision and develop possibilities hitherto latent, because
unneeded.

The Sunday School divides the period of Childhood into the "Primary
Age," from six to nine, and the "Junior Age," from nine to twelve,
basing the division as accurately as is possible upon the awakening of
these latent possibilities. The development of this period will
therefore be considered according to this classification.


THE PRIMARY AGE--SIX TO NINE

During these years the characteristics of Early Childhood remain in more
or less modified form. Physical growth is still rapid in all parts of
the body, the brain reaching almost full size by the ninth year.
Parallel with this vigorous physical growth is a mental growth and
development equally rapid and many sided. Curiosity is as hungry as
ever, still more eager concerning things than abstract ideas, and still
a goad to active senses. The mind has increased power to retain what is
given it, and about the ninth year enters upon its "Golden Memory
Period." The ability to reason is gradually increasing, though it is
used more upon relationships between things than between ideas.

The child's feelings are still self-centered, yet development of the
social and altruistic feelings is apparent. Children enjoy companionship
more than in earlier years, but the longing for others does not reach
the intensity which demands the club and gang until later. A feeling of
sympathy and desire to help must still be awakened by definite cases of
need, plus the influence of parent or teacher, as the child does not yet
know life's hard experiences well enough to read their meaning and give
response to them of himself.

If nurture has met its opportunity in the preceding period, the child's
love for God and confidence in Him have grown stronger. The Heavenly
Father will be as real to him as an earthly friend, and His help a
living experience. "How is it that you always have a perfect spelling
lesson at school?" a primary teacher asked of one of her boys. "Why,
don't you know that Jesus sits in the seat with me every day and helps
me?" he replied. The teacher's face betokened her surprise, and the
child emphatically reiterated, "He truly does sit with me and help me."
Would that God's older children could live as actually in the Presence
that was promised for "all the days."

Actions continue to be largely impulsive, carried out according to the
strongest present desire, and though right and wrong are more clearly
understood than formerly, they do not often determine an act unsupported
by other considerations. This is evident in the matter of obedience,
whose strengthening into a habit is one of the most imperative tasks of
nurture during childhood. Abstract laws and principles of right, so
weighty in middle adolescence, have but slight influence over the child,
unless joined with them is a strong personality whom the child loves or
fears, and whose favor he desires to win through obeying.

There are certain modifications of earlier characteristics, which demand
more than a passing notice, because they necessitate greater change in
the methods of nurture.


ACTIVITY

Though the restlessness of the preceding period is still in evidence,
more and more activity is becoming purposeful and willed. While the
child continues to love activity for itself, he is more interested in
what it will accomplish than formerly, but an end is not yet
sufficiently attractive in itself to hold him to an unpleasant activity
for its achievement. For example, he enjoys both the weaving and the
basket, the pasting and the scrap-book, but if pasting and weaving were
laborious and difficult, he would not voluntarily go through them to
obtain the basket or the scrap-book.

It must be noted further, that activity still expends itself more
readily in the realm of the physical than the mental, though there is
increasing pleasure in the quest for knowledge, if wisely directed. The
Sunday School is beginning to recognize what the day school has learned,
that the child both enjoys and masters a lesson which can be approached
through physical as well as mental avenues. In consequence, hand work is
being introduced to aid in religious instruction, as manual work in the
public schools for secular education, with most gratifying results in
both cases.


THE SENSES

More skill, more accuracy and more discrimination characterize the work
of the senses than in Early Childhood. The impressions are richer in
detail and meaning, because of the increased knowledge possessed by the
child. It is a commonplace that we receive from anything in proportion
to what we bring to it. The ear of the musician hears in an orchestra
what the child or the adult without the knowledge of music could never
detect, because he listens with more than they. The child can see in a
picture or circumstance, and hear in a conversation or a song, what once
he could not, because he brings a larger experience to bear upon it.
Criticism of others in the home, the lapses from Christ-like living, the
scenes of the street, things pernicious as well as helpful have greater
significance in character building than ever before. This gives still
graver emphasis to the work of nurture in guarding these wide-open
doorways to a hungry soul.

Growing out of the fact that the senses are the greatest source of
information to the child's mind, the method of teaching by means of
objects has arisen. Rightly used, there is great value in this mode of
instruction, but a serious perversion of its legitimate use has
developed in connection with religious instruction of little children.
Though the discussion of this may be a possible digression, it seems
necessary in order to safeguard nurture from a mistake.

There are two helpful methods of using an object with children in the
Beginners' and Primary age. The first is to explain an unfamiliar fact,
or make it clear. A model of an oriental house or curios from a mission
field are examples of this. The second use is to illustrate a fact. The
flower is the visible expression of God's loving care; the table, heaped
high with grains and fruits and vegetables at the Thanksgiving service,
teaches as no mere words could the fact of God's provision for our need.
Objects used in this way require no reasoning power to make their
meaning clear. It is only a matter of perception.

The use of an object, however, in order to deduce spiritual truth
therefrom for children with reasoning powers undeveloped, is a mistake.
Instead of making the thought clearer to their minds it obscures it.
Close examination reveals the reason for this. A child is both
imaginative and literal. Through his imagination he can transform one
object into another object, as we have already observed, but in this
case he is asked to transform an object into an abstract idea. This he
does not easily do, since such transformation is made by reason, not by
imagination. Further, the spiritual teachings are drawn from the
abstract idea which the object is supposed to represent, not from the
object itself. Manifestly, therefore, if he does not get the idea he
will not get the deductions from it. His mind does not follow beyond the
point where he can understand, consequently, his thought remains with
the object as it literally is.

To illustrate, take the familiar object lesson of a cup overflowing with
water, used to teach the thought of God's manifold blessings in the
life. The child is asked to change the cup into the abstract thought of
life, and water into the thought of blessing. This is difficult, for it
involves reason and deals with resemblances which are artificial, not
real. The child's literalism, therefore, asserts itself, and the cup
remains a cup and the water is still water, and while the teacher is
drawing conclusions, the child is probably wondering whether her dress
will get wet or how he can get a drink.

The same principle obtains in regard to certain types of blackboard
illustrations. The child is asked to change a cross into suffering, a
crown into victory, a red cardboard heart into life, and a picture of
Jesus Christ pinned upon it into regeneration. He does not make these
transformations until reason is more fully developed than in this
period. Lines remain lines, cardboard is still cardboard and spiritual
deductions do not reach his understanding.

The fact that an object or drawing is always interesting does not alter
the principle at all, for being interested and being instructed are not
necessarily equivalent terms. The lesson must always be interesting, but
it must also gain entrance according to the laws of the mind to be
instructive.


INTERESTS

The interests of this period include those of the preceding period, but
they are more diverse and far-reaching than in Early Childhood. They
still center around the concrete, and especially physical activity.
Crude and amazingly heterogeneous collections begin to make their
appearance in boys' pockets and girls' treasure boxes. Dolls are never
so dear to their fond mothers as in this period. Games and active
outdoor sports appeal to both boys and girls, those games being
particularly enjoyable which give the individual an opportunity to
shine. Real team play is impossible at this time, since in honor each
prefers himself. Any scepticism upon this point will be dispelled by
listening to the modest aspirants for office when the positions in a
football game are being assigned. The explanation for this lies
partially in the instinct of rivalry, which arrays individual against
individual, all through the early years of life. When the social
feeling which welds individuals into groups becomes strong, rivalry will
appear between gangs and clubs rather than between individuals.

A significant change occurs in connection with that which the child
desires to imitate. At first, definite acts focused the most of his
interest and aroused imitation, now, interest begins to attach itself to
the actor as well, and the child not only desires to imitate the deed
but also to emulate the doer. Out of this a little later comes real hero
worship, an incentive to action than which life holds no greater.
Another fact in connection with this is also significant; those whom he
desires to resemble need not be in the home circle nor in his
environment, as at first, but may be distant in time and place. This new
interest in people whom he can not see lends added charm and value to
Bible stories and, if told aright, they will do for his life what can be
done in no other way so effectively.

Surely Agur, the son of Jakeh, saw no eager little faces upturned to
his, pleading, "Tell me another," or he would have added to the things
that are never satisfied, nor say, "It is enough," the hunger of a child
for a story. Since hunger is always indicative of a need in the
developing life, there must be a reason for this craving. It is found in
connection with the rapid development and requirements of the
imagination.

There are two ways in which a truth may be taught. One is through an
abstract statement, such as, "Intemperance destroys the happiness of a
home." The other is through the concrete, or the story of a home
blighted by liquor. The first appeals to reason, and can be understood
only in the light of experience; the second requires simply the exercise
of a vivid imagination. Of reasoning power, the child at this time has
little, but he has an imagination vivid, strong and hungry, eagerly
reaching out for something to feed upon. The well-told story fully
satisfies his hunger, and at the same time meets the greatest need of
the whole soul, namely, the placing of right ideals before it in such a
way that they will be worked out into character.

To accomplish this result three things are necessary: first, the thought
suggesting the ideal must be understood; second, it must rouse the
feelings; third, it must lead to action. The story meets every demand.

1. It makes the truth concrete. The statement, "Love will endure
hardships for the sake of Jesus Christ," is only a thought in the brain.
The story of Paul or Livingston brings the truth out of that intangible
world, puts flesh upon it and the breath of life within, and the child
can in imagination exercise his sense of sight, of hearing and of touch
upon it.

2. It makes the truth visible, and therefore to be grasped through the
senses or imagination.

A thought can not be seen by itself, but if lived out in the life of a
person it may be seen by the physical eye, or, if mountains and
centuries intervene, still by the eye of the soul--the imagination.
When it is seen, the fact itself is understood, though the reasons for
it may not be comprehended. While no man may ever know why God so loved
the world that He gave His only begotten Son, we understand that He does
love us, as we see the Babe in the manger and the blessed Savior upon
the cross. Only when a truth is so seen does it become real and,
consequently, of any worth to the life. Herein lies the need and the
power of "Living Epistles," not only in the material world, but also in
the world of the imagination.

3. When the truth is seen it always arouses feeling.

A thought which is merely known does not move men. It is possible to
read of a terrible tragedy with measured pulse and indifferent heart,
but if the reader was an eye witness, or allows imagination to picture
it for him, his soul quivers in its presence. One of the greatest needs
of our teachers is to see the Master among the hills and by the blue
waters of Gennesaret, to look into His face, to hear His voice till
hearts burn. Then they will not repeat words, but, "Looking upon Jesus
as He walked," say, "Behold Him!" in such a way that the children will
see Him also, and a great love for Him be born in their hearts, and a
longing to follow.

4. The truth that is seen and felt impels to action.

This has already been discussed in connection with the feelings, and an
illustration will suffice at this time.

A mission Sunday School was listening to a talk on the fixedness of
habits formed in youth, and to make it clearer the speaker said, "Boys,
do they ever lay cement walks in this neighborhood?" Every eye was
riveted on him, as they answered, "Yes!" "Did you know," he continued,
"that if you were to take a sharp-pointed stick and write your name in
the cement while it was soft, it would harden and remain there as long
as the walk lasted?" "Of course," he hastily added, as a significant
expression appeared on their faces, "no boy here would be mean enough
to do such a thing," but it was too late--the picture had done its work
and the purpose of handing autographs down to posterity would be
executed at the first opportunity.

Such is the power of the image or picture to lead to action. Only the
Father knows how many sons have come home from the far country because
of the matchless story of the prodigal. Only He knows how many
consecrated men and women are in Africa and China and Japan because they
saw the heroes in God's Hall of Fame. Surely this is why the Holy Spirit
inspired Paul to write, "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things
are honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure,
whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if
there be any virtue, if there be any praise, think on these things."

5. If the imagination steadily hold the picture, some day the life will
be like it.

It is impossible for the soul to look day after day upon anything
without unconsciously being changed into its likeness. Hawthorne has
exquisitely portrayed the transformation of Ernest into the image of the
Great Stone Face, and, in so doing, has told the story of every life
that gazes fixedly on its ideal. Herein lies the blessed secret of
Christ-likeness: "We all, with unveiled face reflecting as a mirror the
glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image, from glory to
glory even as from the Lord, the Spirit."

In the light of these wonderful possibilities growing out of "seeing the
invisible," the oft-quoted words of Stanley Hall are most significant,
"Of all the things that a teacher should know how to do, the most
important, without any exception, is to know how to tell a story."


APPLICATION TO SUNDAY SCHOOL WORK

The requirements of the Primary department in regard to teacher, place
and equipment are similar to those in the Beginners' class, save that a
song roll may now be helpfully added, since the children are learning to
read. In the matter of instruction, however, some variation from
preceding methods is necessary, owing to the rapid mental development of
the children.


I. General Program.

In addition to the thought of making the service worshipful and joyous,
the program must be planned with reference to three important things:

(1) The Truth to be presented in the lesson.

This should be a guide to program building in the preceding department
as well, but it becomes imperative in this and the Junior departments,
since the truth to be taught changes weekly, and therefore must be
fastened during one hour's work. Memory in this period depends upon the
force of the impression rather than upon association, as in later
periods, hence all songs and exercises should emphasize the one thought
to be given in the lesson. This does not require new songs and services
weekly. It merely requires that the old songs and exercises be
approached from the standpoint of the lesson, that which is pertinent to
it being developed in each.

The results of this plan are two-fold: first, a freshness in the program
each week, even with familiar features, and second, cumulative emphasis
upon one truth, thus fulfilling the conditions of memory, and therefore
of nurture.

(2) The Activity of the children.

The increased mental ability will permit interesting exercises to take
the place of some of the physical outlets for activity necessary in the
preceding period, but they must be brief and compelling in their
attractiveness.

The use of motion songs is outgrown, especially with boys. During many
years there has remained in memory the expression in the face of a boy,
head and shoulders taller than any other child in the primary
department, as he stood pointing to pedal extremities, not less than
number fours, and singing, "Little feet, be very careful where you take
me to." The sentiment could not possibly have been wrung from him had
not the superintendent been his mother.

Hand work suggestive of the lesson, such as pasting, coloring, tearing,
cutting and simplest writing for the older ones, is growing in favor as
a means of utilizing the activity and impressing the lesson. An outline
of the methods of this work is impossible here, but three words of
caution must be spoken.

First: Choose the time for hand work carefully.

While it will give wise outlet for activity and aid memory, if used in
the wrong place it will tend to dissipate the influence of the lesson.
Even the pasting of a picture when the feelings are deeply stirred could
give them sufficient expression so that they would be satisfied without
further action. They ought to impel to imitation of the action in the
story with all the intensity that has been aroused, instead of being
expended in a mechanical way. In view of this fact, the proper subject
of the hand work would seem to be the lesson of the week preceding, and
the best time for it, just prior to the beginning of the session, if
that be of the usual hour length. This time is practicable even where
the session immediately follows the church service, and it has three
advantages. It will counteract lack of punctuality, will utilize
activity at its most disastrous stage--the unoccupied minutes before the
program proper begins--and will not crowd out from the hour any other
training equally important.

Second: Remember that valuable as the hand work is in clarifying and
impressing the lesson, it is only a shell containing the truth.
Therefore, a teacher who occupies a large part of the hour in this way
is not giving the child sufficient spiritual nourishment.

Third: This work must be raised above the level of similar week-day
occupations.

This may be done through emphasizing the fact that the child is making a
book of Bible stories, and special care must be used to make it
beautiful and worthy. A mission of help or cheer to some one else may
also be held out as a climax to its completion.

(3) The program must be planned with reference to training in habit
formation.

Though the latter part of Childhood is the habit forming period of life,
pre-eminently, yet habits of Christian activity must be begun during
these earlier years. The children in this department are not too young
to lay the foundations of regular and punctual attendance, bringing of
Bibles, giving to church expenses and benevolences, interest in and
gifts for missionary work, daily prayer and, under proper conditions,
church attendance.

II. Instruction.

While special teaching must be given in connection with each habit to be
formed, the supplemental work and the lesson constitute the principal
subjects of instruction.

1. Supplemental Work.

Scripture for memorization in this period should be chosen primarily to
help the children in habit formation. Information about the Bible and
storing for future use belong in the next period of "Golden memory."
Verses that give the thought of God's love, and incite loving obedience
to Him and to their parents, and loving service to others, are
fundamental and should predominate. The Twenty-third Psalm and Lord's
Prayer will have real meaning, and therefore help for the child at this
time, if carefully taught. A few of the great stories of the Bible,
including those of Christmas and Easter, may be added, and some of the
hymns of the church expressing God's majesty and the thought of service.

2. The Lesson.

Every principle of nurture already discussed bears upon the presentation
of the lesson.

(1) The lesson must bring an ideal to the child in concrete form. This
will be the truth connected in some way with a person. Where the lesson
gives the negative side, or the absence of the truth in life, the
positive side must also be presented and made more attractive, since
the child's impulse to imitate, even when warned against it, is stronger
than the warnings. He must always be sent away with something to do,
rather than not to do.

(2) This ideal must always be given in a story. When the lesson material
is abstract, like the Epistles or Psalms, a truth to be taught should be
selected from it, and then made concrete and living in some Bible story.

(3) The story itself is the mainspring to action, not the application.

The forceful, vivid and realistic presentation of the story, made
possible as the teacher lives in it, impels the child to imitation; the
application, or "ought," appeals to his reason and compels him, and
action is always more hearty when impelled than when compelled. The only
after touch upon the story which is helpful to little children lies in
plans for imitating the activity which has been pictured. Even this is
not always to be done. Jesus left the most wonderful story He ever told
with no words of application, for they were unnecessary. He knew that
every prodigal would feel a tug at the heartstrings and an impulse to go
home. At the conclusion of the story of the Good Samaritan He merely
said, "Go thou and do likewise." Allowing the children to suggest what
they would like to do if they so desire, or making the suggestion
indirectly by song, or prayer, or the teacher's announcement of her own
purpose will carry far more weight than any injunction to act, for, "The
deepest spring of action in us is the sight of action in another."




CHAPTER VI

THE JUNIOR AGE--NINE TO TWELVE


The years we are now to consider are among the most interesting in all
the period of development, and among the most exacting, as well, in the
problems they present. These problems are related, in the main, to the
"new invoice of energy" which has come into the life, the social
feelings, habit formation and hero worship, and knowledge and patience
are almost exhausted in their solution.

A general survey of the period reveals much that we are already familiar
with, together with certain new conditions. We find that some of the
winsomeness and much of the demonstrativeness and dependency of earlier
childhood are gone. The sense of approaching manhood or womanhood is
beginning to stir in the soul and, coincident with it, a growing
independence is manifest. While the child must still be under authority,
the wisest nurture will consult his feelings and wishes as far as
possible, for just beyond this period lies life's crisis, and every bond
of sympathy and confidence must unite the helper to the one to be helped
as the stormy passage is entered upon.

With all this growing independence, however, life is very far from
possessing the marks of maturity. It is careless and care free,
irresponsible in general, yet proud to carry definite responsibilities.
There is delight in anything which suggests pre-eminence over others,
such as badges, buttons and regalia of any kind, or public recognition
and reward. Frankness almost to the point of brutality is a frequent
trait, particularly of boys of this age, for they do not lend themselves
as easily as the girls to the polite usages and subterfuges of society.
This characteristic must have its counterbalance in genuineness and
freedom from any affectation, especially a pious one, on the part of
those dealing with the children, in order to win their love and respect.

A marked literalism is also apparent, and instead of the delicately
imaginative child of earlier years a matter of fact young person stands
out with a desire for exact statement and, if need be, under such oath
as, "Upon your word," or "Cross your heart and hope to die." There is a
strong sense of honor connected with such asseverations, and woe betide
the one who swears falsely or tinkers with the truth.

There are certain conspicuous characteristics which demand a more
detailed consideration, and the first to be noted is the energy.


ENERGY

The very sound of the word is indicative of the nervous force that
dominates the life during these years. It is well nigh impossible for
action to be noiseless or measured in this period, especially during the
latter part. The energy continues to be more vigorous in the physical
realm, and active sports of all kinds are attractive. One of the
greatest problems of nurture at this time, as has already been
suggested, centers around the wise use of this energy in the home, the
day school, the Sunday School and, most important of all, in the hours
unoccupied with definite tasks, for habits are forming through its
outgoing.


THE SOCIAL FEELINGS

Another striking characteristic of this period appears in the rapid
development of the social feelings. No longer is the child content with
one or two playmates, but he craves the companionship of several of the
same age and sex. This desire finds expression in the coterie of bosom
friends, the gang and the club so prevalent between the ages of ten and
fourteen. The bonfire with its circle of kindred spirits, the cave with
its password and dark plottings, the street corner and recruiting
whistle have almost irresistible fascination. What one boy does not
dare, the gang will attempt, and the composite conscience may fall far
below that of the individual. The sense of honor already mentioned is
very strong among the members, and in absolute loyalty to one another
they stand or fall.

These organizations exist among the girls as well as boys, but differ in
the purpose for which they are formed, the girls organizing more as
adults, while the boys' clubs are overwhelmingly to expend energy,
lawfully or otherwise.

The dangers and opportunities growing out of this strong tendency toward
segregation can not be overestimated. A walk along a city street in the
evening reveals the fact that the nurture of the sidewalk and the ice
cream parlor has largely supplanted the nurture of the home on the
social side. The table with the evening lamp--"the home's
lighthouse"--and the family circle complete about it, are an almost
unknown experience in the life of the average American child. In a
recent convention a speaker, who is in charge of a great penal
institution filled with human derelicts, said he believed it to be as
much a duty of the church to preserve at least one evening a week sacred
to the home, as to designate another for the prayer meeting or preaching
service.

The home ought to be the center of the child's social life. Why can not
the lights and music and companionship there be made as attractive as
the lights of the corner store, or billiard hall, or the sound of the
street piano, which pave the way to the saloon and the dance hall later?
That boys and girls will congregate during this period and the next is a
law unchangeable as the laws of the Medes and Persians. Nurture asks
whether the home does not furnish a better environment during this
energetic, habit forming and irresponsible period than the corner store
or the "gang?" It asks whether the society of those invited within its
doors for a good time, under the sympathetic and watchful eye of the
father and mother, is not apt to be more conducive to true character
building than the society of the chance acquaintance with no credentials
save his skill in story telling and initiation into fascinating
mysteries? It asks still further, in this age of hero worship, whether
the home should not erect the ideals of manhood and womanhood through
example, through books, through honored guests who have achieved true
distinction instead of delegating this privilege to the group around the
bonfire or the man who gathers the admiring circle to listen to the
salacious tale? The home which provides for this social craving within
its sheltering walls, blending the faces of father and mother with those
of companions in the most joyous of good times, and, after the evening
altar, when the lights are darkened, knows that each pillow is pressed
by its own pure face, that home is a bulwark of the nation and the ante
chamber to one of God's many mansions.

May God have pity on the thousands of children who live in houses, but
are homeless.


HERO WORSHIP

In this new interest in his fellows, all figures do not stand out in
equal proportion against the child's horizon. Some loom very high, and
in the inner chamber of the soul, incense is burning at their shrine.
Out of the earlier interest in people, and desire to imitate their
actions, there begins to emerge the great passion of hero worship with
all its power in shaping ideals and determining character. If it be
true, indeed, that life grows like what it gazes fixedly upon, then
nurture has here an important work.

The hero of any period must inevitably embody that which the life most
admires at the time, hence physical strength and skill, courage and
daring will be prominent factors in a boy's hero in this period. This
hero may be, perchance, the physical director of the Y.M.C.A., the
champion baseball or football player, an explorer or adventurer, a
desperado, or--happy case--a father who has not forgotten how to swim
and fish and hunt and play ball. A boy always longs to place his father
on the throne of his heart, if he is given a chance, but the fathers who
covet that place enough to pay the price for it are too few.

A hard working mechanic said to a friend, "I made up my mind I would
rather have a backache when my boys were little than a heartache later
on," and so no day's task was so heavy, up toil so exhausting that when
he came home at night his two boys could not claim him. The cramped
muscles would unlimber behind the bat, the tired limbs would forget
their weariness in the jaunt that had been planned with father, and
during the hours of freedom the three were chums in sports, in
interests, in confidence. They say there is no more beautiful sight in
that town today than two stalwart, manly fellows arm in arm with the
father, who counts it the joy and pride of his life to have mounted the
hero's throne in the hearts of his sons.

While boys always choose a man as their hero, girls may choose either
the masculine or feminine character. They are still near enough Nature's
heart to glory in wildness and abandon, and the subtle delicacy of true
womanhood has not the charm for them now it will have later. Yet it is
part of the priceless dower of motherhood to so share in the daughter's
life through sympathy and understanding that, to "be like mother" will
embody all the aspirations of a girlish heart.


"THE READING CRAZE"

The flame of hero worship is fed from two sources--the life of some one
near to the child and the passionate delight in reading which
characterizes the years from about ten to fifteen and is especially
marked from twelve to fourteen. The choice of books will naturally be
governed by the strongest interests. We are not surprised, therefore,
that every page must teem with life and chronicle some achievement,
preferably in the physical realm, for in the thought of the junior,
"Greater is he that taketh a city than he who ruleth his own spirit."

Toward the latter part of this period the sentimental novel, with all of
its froth and perverted ideals of life, appeals to the girl, and it is
an open question which is more pernicious, "Deadwood Dick and the
Indians" or "Love at Sight."

When it is remembered that during these years the desire for reading is
so great that it will be satisfied, surreptitiously if not openly, that
the heroes and heroines strengthen ideals of their own type in the soul
of the child, that these are the years in which taste is being formed,
not only in reading but in living, nurture again has a great task
outlined. "What is the best way to keep a boy from eating green apples?"
a prominent Sunday School worker often asks in a convention. The answer
never varies: "Give him ripe ones to eat." The child who has plenty of
well-selected, wholesome literature will have no appetite for the
baneful. Biography of the heroic type, exploration, adventure and
charming romances like the "Waverley Novels" will help to lay sane and
pure foundations of character. The missionary boards are now putting out
books as thrilling and stirring in their situations as any yellow-backed
novel. These the children devour and the spiritual heroism makes its
silent appeal along with the physical.

This delight in reading makes comparatively easy the formation of the
habit of daily Bible reading. If the life is more than meat, then the
time taken by the father or mother to select fascinating Bible
biographies and stories, and tactfully to supervise the reading, is at
least as wisely expended as that used in training a grape vine or sewing
a lace edge on a ruffle. Is it not strange that there is such distorted
perspective and false balance of values in regard to what is worth
while? The cares of this world crowd out so many supreme things. Many a
temptation in later life would have its antidote if the Holy Spirit
could bring the needed Scripture to mind, but because some one
substituted the lesser for the greater, solicitude for external
appearance instead of inner furnishing, the Word is not there to be
recalled.


HABIT FORMATION

The discussion of these marked characteristics of the life is given
added import when we realize that these years are in the height of the
habit forming period. All through Early Childhood and Childhood every
act has left its faint tracing upon the plastic cells of the brain, and
some of the markings are deep ere now. Just as water will follow its
channel rather than cut a new course, so activity will expend itself in
the well-traced pathways unless prevented from so doing, and the same
thought or stimulus will always tend to go out in the same action. No
thinking is necessary upon these habitual acts which constitute "nine
tenths of life"--they have become mechanical. Not only in the body does
life acquire fixed habits, but also in the soul, in thinking, feeling
and choosing.

The seriousness as well as the value of a habit lies in its tenacity. No
harder task ever confronts a life than to break up one habit and
substitute another after the brain cells grow hard. The process requires
not only that activity be directed away from the pathway that
irresistibly draws it, but at the same time a new groove be traced upon
the hard, unyielding cells. The task is difficult beyond expression.
This is why reformed men always have a hidden fear of lapsing into the
former life. It is the call of the old pathway, traced so deeply in the
brain.

A mature woman, brought up to the strictest Sabbath observance, came to
believe that "the Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath,"
and therefore essayed to act on that day according to her reason and
judgment. The attempt was soon abandoned. "There is no pleasure in it,"
she said. "I am constantly fighting the old habits of my girlhood life,
and they will not cease their call to me." This is what the wise king
meant when he said, "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when
he is old he will not depart from it." The whole tendency is to "ask for
the old paths," that there "may be rest to the soul." A part of the
miracle of conversion in later life appears in God's power to trace new
pathways when the brain is hardened, and to keep life in them, moment by
moment, against the tug of the old.

Three statements will crystallize the discussion. First: The years up
to twelve present two conditions for habit formation--plastic brain
cells and action easily secured--as no succeeding years present them.

Second: Habit formation, either right or wrong, is constantly going on,
for every action leaves its impress and makes repetition easier.

Third: Right habits may be formed as easily as wrong, if the task is
definitely undertaken.

Since the importance of these years is clearly evident, the method of
habit formation may be briefly stated. First, secure the desired action;
second, secure its successive repetition without a lapse, as far as
possible.

We have already learned that action is the natural result of an aroused
feeling; therefore, nurture will endeavor to make the act attractive and
appealing where it can be done, that the cordial co-operation of the
child may be had. Hero worship may aid here, the example in the home is
imperative and future considerations begin to carry weight.
Encouragement, recognition, new interest and new motives will all
contribute toward securing repetition, until unconsciously the action
carries its own constraint and outer influence is unnecessary.


THE "GOLDEN MEMORY PERIOD"

During the years from about nine to fifteen memory is in its most
glorious period for storing away. In early life a fact is retained
chiefly through its impress on the soft brain cells, for the power of
association is little developed. In later life a fact is retained almost
wholly through association with other facts, for the cells grow hard and
an imprint therefore is faint. In the "Golden Memory Period" the fact
has the double hold of impress and association, for the cells are still
plastic and associative powers are developed. The task and its haste are
evident, for this dual condition never recurs.

The brain will now receive everything, the abstract, that which is not
understood, the uninteresting, as well as that which is pleasing. This
is the drill period, when mechanical repetition will fix anything,
regardless of the child's desire to learn, and full comprehension is
unnecessary. It is also the period of verbal memory, and that which
ought to be memorized exactly should be given now.


RELIGIOUS LIFE

If nurture has cared for the spiritual life of the child, he will
probably desire during this period to publicly confess his love for
Jesus Christ. Even if he has not been so nurtured, every condition in
his life makes it easier now than it ever will be later to lead him to
acceptance of Christ. Though there comes a great spiritual awakening in
adolescence, there is at the same time more in the life to oppose the
decision for Christ than in childhood. The Christian life has not the
meaning for him that it will have later on, spiritual vision is not
broad nor deep, but if the child genuinely loves the Savior and wants to
use his energy for Him, he is laying at the Master's feet all he has
now to give, and if Christ accepts the gift, the church ought to accept
the giver. There is no greater crime against childhood than to bar the
doors to these babes in Christ, nor, assuredly, can any act bring keener
pain to the Passionate Lover of little children, who said, "Let them
come unto me, and forbid them not."


APPLICATION TO SUNDAY SCHOOL WORK

Perhaps a resume of the conditions which the Sunday School must meet in
this period will make the situation more definite.

The child is increasingly independent and outspoken, but easily won by
love and confidence. He responds to responsibility, craves recognition,
glories in show and regalia, wants to know the truth about things. He is
a hero worshipper, abounds with energy and considers it his inalienable
right to have fun with his chums. He devours books and magazines,
retains what he reads and memorizes as never before. He is forming
habits of life. He ought to be a sincere child Christian before he
leaves the Junior department.

Manifestly, in dealing with this period, the problem of nurture must
find a large part of its solution in the teacher himself. Three things
must be vitally true of the one holding this responsible office: first,
an abiding touch with God that shall mean Divine wisdom, moment by
moment, for the exegencies of Junior work far outnumber the tread mill
experiences; second, an understanding of and genuine sympathy with the
life of the children; third, a personality that shall meet the
conditions of hero worship. Some day the church will give to every boys'
class, in this and succeeding periods, a trained Christian man to be
hero first, and then teacher, for no boy aspires to be like a woman, no
matter how much he may love her. But, though a woman may not reach up to
a boy's ideals along physical lines, nor should she attempt it, there is
abundant opportunity through outings, tramps, picnics and genuine
interest in their sports to touch even that side of the life of both
boys and girls.

The social needs must be met through frequent class and department
gatherings, preferably in the homes, for the habit of reverence in God's
house will receive almost fatal counteraction in the average social
gathering of this age held in the church. Organizations like the
"Knights of King Arthur," for boys, and the "Sunshine Club," for girls,
are to be highly commended because of their social features, their
appeal to the love of uniform, password and secrets, to hero worship and
to activity through the ideals of life and service they make concrete
and alluring.

Discipline of these independent, outspoken boys and girls is easy if the
teacher will only lay hold of the heart instead of the coat collar, but,
alas, the latter method takes less time. The world holds nothing truer
and sweeter than the love of a child at this age, free as it is from all
affectation and policy, and it is there in every heart, awaiting the
touch of the teacher who can find the hidden spring. The contact on
Sunday is not sufficient, however, to reveal it. The child must know
through the letter, the call, the invitation to the teacher's home, the
loving sympathy in his life and interests that the teacher wants him,
not his Golden Text and offering, and in this knowledge the magic spring
is found.

Besides the social life, the teacher should feel a responsibility in
regard to what the children are reading. Papers like the Youth's
Companion circulated among the members, suggestions as to books in the
Sunday School or public library, books loaned to the children and
questions as to their reading may save many a soul from the slimy trail
of the serpent coiled in the dime novel.

A few suggestions may be added relative to the work in the School
itself.


PLACE

The Juniors should have a separate department and place, for their work
is distinct in character and methods from the Primary and Intermediate
departments. Maps and charts should be added to the equipment,
individual and personally owned Bibles, and where they can be had,
tables for each class.


ORGANIZATION

For two important reasons the department should be divided into classes
and the teaching done by the teachers, presupposing they have risen to
their privilege and are trained. First, the week-day shepherding becomes
an increasingly serious matter as the child is broadening in his
relationships, and no superintendent can give it alone. Second, the
recitation must give large opportunity for individual work on the part
of the pupil during the lesson, and this is impossible in a department
taught as a whole.


PROGRAM

The program should give prominence to supplemental work taught largely
through drills, including--during the Golden Memory Period--the Books of
the Bible, passages, chapters, facts concerning the Bible and training
in its use, geography of the Holy Land, the catechism where used and the
hymns of the church. Public recognition in badges, certificates and roll
of honor will aid in securing the desired work along this and other
lines.

Systematic and careful training in habits of Christian service ranks
with the lesson in importance. Responsibilities in various committees
through the week may be used to strengthen habits and utilize energy.
Missionary heroes should be made as familiar to the children as their
own personal friends, and there should be regular contributions to
definite objects, not abstractions like "Missions" or "Benevolences."

Music of a martial type is greatly enjoyed by the children, also that
suggesting action, but never the meditative, introspective sort. Great
care should be taken to guard the voices from overstrain in loud
singing, as irreparable damage may be done for all time to come.

THE LESSON

The Junior lesson should be prepared to meet the children's interest in
facts and love of a hero. They are not ready yet for truth in the
abstract--it must be seen in a person. Instead of the story, as in the
Primary class, there must be a mingling of vivid word pictures by the
teacher and question and answer. The children should not be told to
"study the lesson," for they do not know how, but rather have assigned
to them one definite thing to prepare for the recitation. Make use of
their love of reading in this connection. Use energy and hold attention
by means of pad and pencil, written answers in the books they are making
on the current lessons, map drawing, looking up references and a
stereoscope if possible. Time before the session and in the social
gatherings of the class can be most fascinatingly and profitably used in
making pulp and sand maps and models of Oriental objects.

Toward the latter part of this period, a questioning in regard to Divine
things may come, but a questioning unmixed with the doubt of later
years. "And when He was twelve years old, ... they found Him in the
temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them and
asking them questions." With this desire to know reasons for belief
comes the teacher's golden opportunity for strengthening the foundations
of faith through history and the testimony of ancient monuments, where
it can be adduced, through experience and through God's Word itself.

May nurture be so true to God and the life that the child shall leave
his childhood and face the dawn of manhood as that One of old with the
eager heart and heavenly vision, "Wist ye not that I must be about my
Father's business?"




CHAPTER VII

ADOLESCENCE


Between the quiet unfolding of childhood and the full development of
maturity, there lies a period so fraught with danger and so filled with
opportunity, that it is rightly considered life's crisis. A mistake at
this point is more disastrous than at any other, while wisdom in dealing
with the soul never has such rich reward.

In a general way, this period, known as Adolescence, extends with boys
from about twelve to twenty-four, and with girls from about eleven to
twenty-one, or from the beginning of manhood and womanhood to full
maturing.

A study of the conditions that obtain during these years clearly reveals
the reason for their crucial character.

1. It is an awakening time of new possibilities, physical, mental, moral
and spiritual.

We are already familiar with the peril and opportunity that attend the
first stages of any development, because the future direction and
strength of the possibility are then so largely determined. When we
realize that the highest possibilities of the soul, as well as some of
the lowest, are now unfolding, the gravity of the period is apparent.

The changes that come with the soul's awakening are so great, that often
the youth becomes a stranger to those who know him best. Ideals,
ambitions, feelings, thoughts and power only dimly, if ever, recognized
in childhood take possession of the life. A new conception of God is
born and a larger sense of responsibility to Him, to the neighbor and to
the world. In these awakening possibilities are heard the siren voices
of passion, society, wealth and fame and the clear call of
self-sacrifice and duty, and the soul is bewildered, not knowing which
to heed. Surely nurture is needed, for the choices of Adolescence are in
all probability the choices of eternity.

2. These are the years of the greatest susceptibility to influence.

Everything that comes to the life now has an impelling force that it
did not have in childhood. Life is in a state of unstable equilibrium,
and a touch may move it. The influence of one book, of one friend, of
one hasty word of criticism or passing word of encouragement may
determine the future of a soul.

3. During this period habits become permanent.

The pathways traced through childhood and adolescence become settled,
the cells gradually lose power to change, and by the close of
Adolescence, character is practically determined, unless a Divine power
"makes all things new."

4. The influence of heredity is strongly felt during the early part of
Adolescence.

A child may be defrauded of his inheritance in stocks and bonds and
estates, but the bequest of tendencies to which his parents and
grandparents and the long line back have made him heir, can not be
diverted.

There is danger of over-emphasizing the doctrine of heredity and
lessening the sense of personal responsibility for conduct. There is
also danger of minimizing it, and consequently failing to give the help
that many a life needs in its effort to overcome an evil inheritance.

Heredity means simply a pull upon the life in a certain direction,
because of the way those before have lived. It is easier to climb
upward, if "the hands of twenty generations are reached down from the
heights to help, than as if they reached up from below to drag down."
But whatever the inherited tendencies, any life may have the "antithetic
heredity," which is a part of its glorious inheritance in Jesus Christ.

5. This period contains the largest number of first commitments for
crime.

Three coincident facts demand serious and careful consideration.

First. The greatest number of first commitments occur from twelve to
sixteen.

Second. The greatest spiritual awakenings occur between twelve and
sixteen.

Third. "Girls are most susceptible to influence for good or evil between
eleven to seventeen, with the climax about fourteen, and boys from
twelve to nineteen, with the climax about sixteen." Is not the work of
nurture plain?

6. During the early part of this period, by far the heaviest losses from
church and Sunday School occur.

"While thy servant was busy here and there, he was gone." Who was gone?
A soul in its crisis, making eternal choices, easily influenced by a
word, a look or a touch, in the grip of fierce temptations, but catching
sight of Divine possibilities, needing help as at no time before or
later, this is the soul that slipped away, in all probability, not to be
brought back. You who let it slip, "How will you go up to your Father
and the lad be not with you?"

In turning to a more detailed consideration of Adolescence, we find the
wealth of material so far exceeding the limitations of our space, that
the study must be selective, not analytic. Only those conditions in the
life, therefore, which seem most imperative in their demands upon
nurture will be chosen for discussion.

EARLY ADOLESCENCE

The first period of Adolescence covers about four years, approximately
from twelve to sixteen with boys and eleven to fifteen with girls, and
is perhaps the most trying of all to deal with.

The crisis in these years is a physical one, arising in connection with
the functioning of new physical powers. Coincident with this the
passions are born, bringing to many lives the severest of temptations.
If ever a close intimacy is needed between father and son and mother and
daughter, it is at this time of mystery and question, when the life does
not understand itself nor the meaning of what God now gives it. The
sacred confidence between parent and child is infinitely better than the
best intended book upon the subject, which arouses further curiosity and
kindles the imagination. When the home fails in nurture at this point,
the Sunday School teacher must earnestly consider what of responsibility
falls upon him.

The rapid physical growth of these years is often accompanied by
awkwardness, due to the fact that the muscles are developing faster
than the bones, making delicate adjustment impossible. There is painful
sensitiveness over this, especially with boys, as hands and feet must be
in the open, and they will easily construe any criticism or ridicule
into a desire to be rid of their presence.

    " ... And what if their feet,
    Sent out of houses, sent into the street,
    Should step round the corner and pause at the door
    Where other boys' feet have paused often before;
    Should pass through the gateway of glittering light,
    Where jokes that are merry and songs that are bright
    Ring out a warm welcome with flattering voice,
    And temptingly say, 'Here's a place for the boys!'
    Ah, what if they should! What if your boy or mine
    Should cross o'er the threshold which marks out the line
    'Twixt virtue and vice, 'twixt pureness and sin,
    And leave all his innocent boyhood within?
    Ah, what if they should, because you and I,
    While the days and the months and the years hurry by,
    Are too busy with cares and with life's fleeting toys
    To make round our hearthstone a place for the boys."

There is a sense of pressure and nervous excitement throughout the whole
life, for the "invoice of energy" is not exhausted. Athletics afford
physical relief, and slang, which is at its height from about thirteen
to fifteen, offers somewhat of an emotional safety-valve. Experiences
are never commonplace during this period, nor any individual ordinary.
The strongest superlatives and most extravagant metaphors will scarcely
do a situation adequate justice, but nurture can afford to be patient,
for "this, too, will pass," and of itself, as life grows calmer.

The feverish excitement is not at all to the distaste of the adolescent
but, on the contrary, he courts it. The "reading craze" is at its height
in this period, and books which give "thrills" are sought by both boys
and girls. There is increasing necessity of wise oversight in the choice
of reading when the mind is so inflammable and easily led, and the fact
that a book is on the shelf of the Sunday School library is unhappily
not always a guarantee against the need of further parental inspection.

The abounding energy of this period, when brought into conjunction with
the enlarged vision of life, often gives rise to a restlessness and
desire, to leave school and go to work. This is augmented by the new
money sense, which is strong about the age of fourteen, and leads to an
effort to secure money to save as well as to spend. This desire ought to
be met by a regular allowance or an opportunity for earning a stipulated
sum. Its neglect is often the explanation for the breaking open of
Sunday School banks or theft from household funds.

But even the satisfying of this desire will not allay restlessness, and
many a school-room seat becomes vacant in the early teens. If, instead
of the harsh measures so often used, the boy could know he had not only
the loving sympathy but also the pride of his parents in this harbinger
of approaching manhood; if, in place of force, he were given choice,
after all the considerations had been carefully weighed; if he could
feel the confidence of father and mother that he would do the manly
thing because he is almost a man, he would rarely fail to meet the
issue, for "at no time in life will a human being respond so heartily if
treated by older and wise people as if he were an equal." The result
will be not only renewed zest in the erstwhile hated task, but a new
bond between parents and son that will help to hold him true when
greater crises come.

The strong appeal that sympathy and consideration now make to the
adolescent is due to the new consciousness of self that has come to the
life. It has many manifestations. There is a welcome external one that
is evident in care for the personal appearance. The days of maternal
solicitude for linen and ears come to an end in this period, and it is
well, for the new standard of correctness is so high as to be
unattainable by any one save the individual himself.

A new sense of pride in one's family and position appears, and an
aristocracy based on the accidents of birth succeeds the democracy of
childhood. The girl who was sincerely thankful that she was not as
others and assumed Pharisaic superiority because she had been born a
Republican, an Allopath and, crown of all, a Baptist, lived in this
period some years ago.

This consciousness of self and of approaching manhood and womanhood
tends to make the life independent, and "any attempt to treat a child at
Adolescence as an inferior is instantly fatal to good discipline." In
this super-sensitive state, a public reproof, even in the home circle,
carries with it humiliation beyond expression, and inevitably arouses
resentment and not penitence. "At no time in life does a word of
encouragement mean so much, or criticism leave such an ineffaceable
scar." If those who touch a life through its unfolding only realized
that what they sow of gentleness and consideration or of harshness and
neglect when that life is defenceless and they are strong will be reaped
when they in turn are without recourse and the child has become a man,
would there not be more tenderness and love in some homes? "For with the
same measure that ye mete, withal, it shall be measured to you again."

Another condition of great import to nurture appears in the increasing
power of the social feelings over the life. Society begins to fascinate,
and the problem of a High School education is complicated with the
problem of secret societies and school dances. Friends are chosen not so
much for real worth as for clothes, position, attractive features or,
where there is no interchange of confidences between parents and
children, for sympathetic understanding. The longing for companionship
is God given and must be fostered, else the youth will enter maturity a
recluse and self-occupied, but nurture must carefully deal with it while
life is in a state of flux. The only course to be at all considered is a
substitutive, not prohibitory one, giving opportunity for social
intercourse under proper conditions.

The development of the affectional side of the life during this period
must be briefly noted.

Hero love and worship are more passionate than before. The object of
admiration is usually some one outside of the home, often a favorite
teacher who understands the heart of a boy and a girl. The patterning of
the life after its ideal is most seriously undertaken, even to imitation
of personal mannerisms. The privilege and responsibility of being the
lode star of an unresisting, unpoised life is tremendous, for this
influence overpowers all others at the time.

Strange manifestations of that which will later be love, holy and
beautiful, between man and woman characterize these years. At first
there is a mutual repulsion between the sexes. The boys are "so rough
and horrid," and as for the girls--the masculine sentiment concerning
them was voiced by one young cavalier in the words, "Oh, mush!" when his
Sunday School class was asked if they would like to invite their "lady
friends" to the coming class party.

But this stage does not continue, and soon nurture must deal with notes
written by foolish maidens and the first glamour of the great passion,
"sicklied o'er" with callowness and sentimentality. There is no more
perplexing problem in Adolescence than how to handle wisely this vernal
manifestation of love.

Blessed is the home where there are congenial and sympathetic brothers
and sisters, and wholesome and absorbing occupations. It is the vacuous,
roaming soul which is a prey to the multi-temptations of this period. If
the tastes and wishes of the young people can be satisfied in the home,
and a hearty and natural companionship of the sexes be welcomed in this
healthy environment, nurture will be bringing sanest measures to bear
upon the situation.

Against this complex background, the necessity of a personal
acquaintance with the Lord Jesus Christ stands out in startling relief.
Though God comes to a soul in a marked way during Adolescence, nurture
is taking a dangerous and often fatal risk in allowing life, as far as
human effort can go, to enter its crisis without Him. The spiritual
awakening of this period (to be considered in the succeeding chapter)
would seem to be God's call to larger service, rather than His first
summons to "Follow Me."

With the Master's authority to let the children come, and with every
condition in child life God prepared for their coming, there is no
tenable position but belief that our Father meant every life to enter
its period of "storm and stress," in step with Jesus Christ.


APPLICATION TO SUNDAY SCHOOL WORK

Sunday School work during Adolescence and maturity lays less emphasis
upon methods and equipment than in the earlier periods, and more
emphasis on the personal relation between teacher and pupil. For this
reason the preceding study, in so far as it interprets the lives of the
boys and girls, applies directly to Sunday School work, for a
sympathetic understanding is the key to the relationship. "There is no
greater blessing that can come to a boy (or girl) at this age when he
does not understand himself, than a good, strong teacher who
understands him, has faith in him, and will day by day lead him till he
can walk alone." Far more than a pedagogue, the adolescent needs a
friend in his Sunday School teacher, who shares his ambitions, knows his
temptations, sympathizes with his successes and failures and, through it
all, trusts him. This understanding and confidence, made long-suffering
and tender by the love that never fails, will be a binding cord that can
not be broken even by the most restless, wayward life.

Because of the close relationship to be sought between teacher and
pupil, other things being equal, it is wise for a class of boys to be
taught by a man, and girls by a woman. The counsel of one who has passed
through the same experiences and known the same temptations and
difficulties always comes with especial helpfulness. But the question of
sex is not as vital as that of sympathy, nor the manner of previous
experience as the manner of present love.

The new consciousness of distinction will make the class work difficult,
if there is any marked difference in the social standing of its
members. The leader must be won to the right attitude in private, the
appeal being based on personal feeling for the teacher and on the new
ideals of relationship to others, which are beginning to take form.

An organization of the class in this and succeeding periods is necessary
for the best work. It should place definite responsibilities upon each
member, either as officer or committee-man, for habits of Christian
service must be solicitously nurtured during these days.

Frequent social gatherings are very important. This is the age when the
young people begin to think that, "a Christian can not have any fun,"
and it rests with the church and Sunday School to prove to them the
contrary. The only convincing proof is in experiencing the fact itself
that the best times have a religious association, therefore a class
party should be as carefully and as prayerfully planned as a Sunday
School lesson.

As these years are included in the Golden Memory-period, supplemental
work of more advanced type should be continued. Note books are helpful
in amplifying and impressing the lesson, and brief essays upon pertinent
topics add interest.

The teaching itself must deal more and more with the relationships of
life. To the majority of young people, the Bible belongs to an uncertain
and remote past. The goal of work in these unsettled years is to help
them see how the Book solves all problems of present-day living, and how
Jesus Christ meets every personal need of the life.




CHAPTER VIII

MIDDLE AND LATE ADOLESCENCE


The crisis of adolescence may be said to culminate about the years from
fifteen to seventeen with girls, and sixteen to eighteen with boys, or
the period of Middle Adolescence. During these years the feelings and
the imagination are a great storm center, largely because of the rapid
development of the altruistic feelings, and the enlarged conception of
life with the new ideals it has given.

Divine Wisdom in the order of the soul's unfolding can be seen nowhere
more clearly than in connection with the growth of responsibility for
another. There must first be the self feelings in the little child, to
help him learn his own individuality. When that knowledge comes, his
life must be related to other lives, hence the social feelings awaken,
yet it is for his personal pleasure that contact with others is sought.
But God's plan for a life does not leave it self centered, and under
His touch through these lives a sense of responsibility toward them
begins to be felt, and the realization comes that "No man liveth unto
himself." Ideals which make the good of others first, enter into
conflict with childish ideals which made personal gain first. A new
impulse to forget self in loving service confronts the old self seeking
and self love. Then the truth that "No man can serve two masters,"
fastens itself upon the soul and decision waits between self and
selflessness. In a struggle that often shakes a life to its foundations,
the great choice is made and the soul yields itself servant to obey.
Though a reversal of either choice is possible, it rarely occurs. This
decision usually determines destiny.

A new meaning and value in early nurture is revealed in the light of
this struggle. If love for Jesus Christ has grown through the years in
the heart of the child and the youth, a decision that means fuller
allegiance to Him and greater blessing to the world is assured. If also
during these years nurture has traced pathways of service, as an
expression of child love to God and to others, habit adds the influence
of its tendencies to the choice of ministering life, and offers channels
already prepared for the outflow of sacrificial love.

The years preceding have not been utterly devoid of altruistic feeling,
but adolescence presents marked difference in its manifestation, other
than that of intensity.

In early life, the willingness to consider others before self was
usually aroused through the influence of some one else; now the longing
and constraint is within the individual himself. Again, in childhood,
these feelings were called out only by some definite, concrete object;
now they are stimulated by great ideas as well. Patriotism, humanity,
suffering, duty, art and science have power to kindle flame on the altar
of sacrifice. The more difficult the task suggested, the greater the
power of its wooing. It is doubtful whether any Christian life ever
passes through this period without considering the ministry or the
mission field, or whether every life does not at some moment long to go
in quest of a Holy Grail.

The issues growing out of this crisis are too momentous to leave with
even the wisest human nurture. God Himself must deal with the soul face
to face, and lead it to this higher love and complete surrender.

In early years He revealed Himself as Creator, Heavenly Father and
Friend to the loving, trusting heart of the little child. Now the time
has come to make His glory pass before the soul. The marvels of creation
in Nature, in constellation and atom, the infinities of eternity and
space, the mysteries of life and death, His own holiness and justice and
all the attributes of His matchless character, the unspeakable love that
gave a Bethlehem and a Calvary to a sin sick race are revealed in new
light and meaning, and the revelation is overwhelming. Existence that
had been accepted without question now becomes complex and baffling. God
is no longer the gentle Lover and strong Protector of childhood days,
but the great "I AM," and in the terrible crystal of His presence the
soul is prostrate. With deep, added meaning the Cross stands out. Its
message of salvation, not only to this soul conscious of its need, but
to a sinning world, is heard anew; but with it comes the voice of the
crucified and risen Lord, "If any man will come after Me, let him deny
himself, and take up his cross and follow Me."

The answer cannot be returned in emotional love. It must be the love of
all the heart, soul, mind and strength, born in self surrender. If this
be the soul's response, the final triumph and glory of the life of self
losing is pledged, not in the fluctuating efforts of a human will, but
in the changeless strength of the Son of God.

It is not to be wondered at that when a soul is in the throes of such
experiences as these, it is a time of storm and stress. Yet often the
struggle is carried on alone, in silence, for life becomes secretive.
The open frankness of childhood is gone, and only to one in close
sympathy will thoughts and feelings which sound foundation depths be
revealed. It does not at all follow that because there is a physical tie
between two lives, that there will be union of spirit in this time of
need. The tragedy of so many homes is disclosed in the distance between
father and son, and mother and daughter, that has widened almost
imperceptibly through the years from lack of sympathy and confidence.

This close relationship which admits to the Holy Place of the soul in
its crisis cannot be lightly cast away, and as easily renewed at will.
It is a growth of the years, to be nurtured patiently, prayerfully,
watchfully, steadily. A guest in the home of a busy physician noted the
peculiarly tender and close relationship which existed between the
father and his son, a splendid boy of about ten years of age. In answer
to her comment upon it, the father said with moist eyes, "We are very
close to one another. I know there is a time coming in his life when he
will need a father as he has never needed him before, and I mean to be
ready. I never take a long drive in the country, that I do not have him
excused from school to go with me. He wants to be a surgeon, so whenever
I have to perform an operation, I always have him help me in some way.
Up to this time there is nothing that weighs for a minute with him over
against an opportunity to be with me, and I am trying to keep his life
so close to mine that nothing can ever come between us." When that boy
reaches his crisis and life closes up, his father will be shut inside
with him. Is there any question as to the outcome, with a father and a
father's God within?

If, in the busy cares of life, the intimacy that God intended in the
home has been lost, it may be found again if the price of its recovery
be paid, but it is often a dear price, payable in the coin of self
humiliation, sacrifice and tears.

The need of this close touch with another is apparent in the unspeakable
longing of the adolescent heart for understanding and sympathy, for
appreciation and recognition, for help in choosing the life work, and
for love that is patient and deep. Perhaps the greatest longing of all
is to be trusted, to feel the strong grip of a hand and hear a voice
vibrant with encouragement and assurance say, "I know you can do it." If
the greatest successes in reformatory work come today through loving
confidence in the one who has started wrong, who can measure the
energizing power of such confidence in a life already striving toward
the best?

The pathetic side of this craving for confidence appears in the distrust
of self which is almost universal at times during these years. A great
wave of ambition and enthusiasm will sweep over the soul, and nothing
seems too great to be attained, nor any obstacles unsurmountable. As
suddenly it will recede, the ideals become impossible, the individual
but an atom in God's great universe, the sky grows gray and hope dies
out. In the vacillation between energy and indifference, enthusiasm and
apathy, self loving and self hating, goodness and badness, confidence
and despair, the ebb and flow of the tide in the soul is revealed to
understanding eyes.

For this fluctuation of purpose and failure to reach its high ideals,
stern sentence is passed at the inner bar of judgment, and though the
censure of another is resented, the soul bears great scars of
flagellation, self inflicted. The standard of measurement by which the
life tests itself and others is a new consciousness that there is
absolute right and absolute wrong apart from all external coverings. The
statements of others are examined, their actions are stripped of all
veneer, profession and practice are balanced, and death sentence is
passed upon the influence of any life that fails to meet the test. The
compassion that remembers that we are but dust has no place in the heart
as yet. Suffering will call out sympathy, but not failure to reach the
mark. A life must ring true to God, true to its fellow men and true to
the ideals conceived as belonging to it by these self-appointed judges,
if it is to be of any help to them. It is therefore not a question
whether the professing Christian, be he parent, teacher or church
member, can indulge in doubtful amusements or uncertain practices
without injury to himself. It is rather, "Are these things included in
the ideal of a Christian life, as it is held by those whom I want to
touch?" If they who bear the name of Christ exemplified more completely
the ideals by which they are measured, would there be so many who
question the reality of divine things?

It is during the closing period of Adolescence, ending with young men
about twenty-four and with young women about twenty-one, that doubt most
frequently appears. It comes rather as a questioning and bewilderment to
the Christian, and scepticism to the one who has had no experience of
divine things. Spiritual truth is not accepted because another has said
it is so, but each desires to know for himself the foundation upon which
he stands, that he may have a reason for the hope that is in him.
Investigation seems to show that at least two out of three pass through
this period of intellectual unrest, young men being in the majority.

Many causes contribute to this condition, but chief among them is the
maturing strength of reason and will. The new power to think God's
thoughts after Him, to trace cause and effect, to understand subtle
relationships, intoxicates the soul. Everywhere in the world around, the
pre-eminence of reason is acknowledged. The atmosphere of the university
and the college which surrounds the favored young men and women is an
atmosphere of scientific accuracy, where reason applies the tests. The
world of business, of finance and of statecraft all bow to reason,--why
not the spiritual world, and then by searching, the soul attempts to
find out God. As in the wisdom of God divine things do not yield up
their treasures in intellectual investigation but in revelation, the
thick darkness gathers. Even that which had been once known by faith
seems strange and unreal from this new view point. It is a critical time
for a soul when it is learning that in one realm reason does not go
before, but faith. Any harshness or lack of sympathy on the part of
another or evident disappointment in the life is very serious at this
point. The will asserts itself under such measures and from the pliant
attitude, "I cannot believe what I cannot explain," it takes the defiant
attitude, "I will not believe what I cannot explain."

The marvelous dealing of our Lord with Thomas is a picture of His
gracious dealing with every doubting heart, and ought to be the
perpetual model for every one who attempts to give help at this time.
When the Master stood before that disciple who said he would not believe
unless he had the indubitable proof of a physical testing, He spoke no
words of censure, no words of His pain that Thomas had been so long time
with Him and yet did not know Him in faith. "Jesus said, 'Peace be unto
you. Reach hither thy finger, and see My hands, and reach thither thy
hand and put it into My side and be not faithless but believing,' and
Thomas answered and said unto Him, 'My Lord and my God!'"

With like patience and infinite tenderness, the Spirit deals with the
troubled heart today. He makes the past days with God live again in
memory, if the life has known Him, and the soul can not deny in its
reason the reality of what it has lived through in its experience. He
uses every Christian life that can bear the search light as an
irrefutable argument of the verity of the unseen. He brings the peace of
God that passeth understanding, yet fills and thrills the soul as every
service for Him is rendered even in the darkness. He calls through hard
experience where reason can bring no comfort and the will is palsied,
through the abiding unrest and longing of a heart that is feeling after
God in its own way, instead of His, and through the drawing of childhood
habits of love and trust. When at last, spent out with struggle and
longing, the soul is willing to come back to the Heavenly Father as the
little child who used to be, asking only to walk hand in His, in dark or
light, a new consciousness dawns, clear, sure and absolute that, "Thus
saith the Lord," is more than reason, and the triumphant song rings
out, "I know whom I have believed, My Lord and My God!"


APPLICATION TO SUNDAY SCHOOL WORK

The Sunday School touches a life just entering maturity at the focal
point toward which all nurture has been tending. Enriched by years of
absorption, with ideals defined and channels of expression traced, the
soul faces an open door, bearing the inscript "Service." It is that each
soul may enter the door and give back to a waiting world its best, that
nurture has brooded and guarded through the years.

The great work of the Sunday School is to impel the soul to take this
step, and taking it, say, "I am debtor." This can not be done through
any system of methods, neither are narrow interests or unexacting tasks
sufficient to arouse all that the soul has now to give. The great sweep
and mighty force of world movements are alone adequate for a soul in
touch with God and infinities.

There has never been a time in the history of Sunday School work when
there were such far reaching, thrilling movements through which to
appeal to manhood and womanhood as at the present time, and God's Hand
is not hidden in the matter.

The Adult Bible Class movement, enlisting the greatest company of
thinking men and women ever gathered for the study of the Word, is a
call to open loyalty to the Book and to the church, that is winning
recruits by the thousands.

The great Teacher Training movement, with its exacting standards and
high ideals of preparation, is leading the choicest young people to seek
the holy service of teaching.

The world encircling Missionary movements, the definite plan to give the
gospel to every man, woman and child in this generation, the marvellous
ingatherings already reported from the foreign field, the unparalleled
opportunities to make richest investment of life in the waking Orient,
these arouse the enthusiasm and conviction which issue in prayers and
gifts and pledge of Student Volunteers.

In our own land, the ethical awakening with its triumphs for Temperance
and civic righteousness, the great conventions and conferences held for
the Kingdom, the sweeping evangelistic campaigns with their trophies for
Christ, and the new life stirring in the church, movements all, God
initiated, God directed, throbbing with His Almighty power and revealing
the oncoming of His triumph, these give the challenge and the
inspiration to men and women, and response is coming in ever swelling
volume, "Here am I, send me!"

It is the crowning mission of the Sunday School to relate these great
interests to individual lives, and interpret for them the meaning in
terms of love and service. To whom shall the task be given? To the
teacher of transparent life, who can hold the world and the one in his
heart, who can read the signs of the times and the signs of the soul,
and who has nurtured with the Divine One through the years, to him shall
be given God's crowning task with an Unfolding Life.




