An interesting point that has been brought out by studies is the fact that degrading ideals are practically wanting in children. You were no doubt shocked to discover that Eddy was planning to become a burglar, or a pirate chief, or a tramp, or an ordinary highwayman.

But a careful a.n.a.lysis of the motives and experiences of the boy will show that the particular feature that Eddy admires in his hero is far removed from the ones that shock you. The boy is dreaming of travel and adventure, of the excitement of chasing or of being chased, of trying his ingenuity in conflict with the professionally ingenious minions of the law, of being brave in the face of danger, of testing his fort.i.tude in the time of trouble, of the loyalty of his comrades to himself as leader, or of his loyalty to his chief when the latter is beset by his enemies. But courage and loyalty and fort.i.tude and ingenuity are no more degrading ideals than are material possessions and intellectual accomplishments. Only it happens that many boys find these particular ideals embodied in heroes and personalities that we feel we must disapprove for various reasons. Robin Hood appeals to the children not because he violated the laws of the land or because he deprived people of their property, but because he was brave, and clever, and just, and kind to the poor.

In comparing the ideals of children raised in the city with those of children raised in the country, interesting differences appear. The city children are in general less inclined to be altruistic than country children at the same age. On the other hand, city children draw upon a wider range of characters from history and from fiction for their ideals. In the matter of future occupations, city children were often satisfied to mention some preference from the various occupations of which they had heard, without elaborating the details, whereas the country children, although they did not select from so wide a range, frequently described special features of some occupation as the interesting elements leading to a choice.

From the various studies that have been made we may see that the kind of ideals that a child is likely to have depends a great deal upon the _people_ with whom he becomes familiar, upon the _ideas_ with which he becomes familiar, and upon the _activities_ with which he becomes familiar. The child should have an opportunity to discover the best that is available in his immediate environment. His earliest heroes should be his parents; then the acquaintances near home should furnish the qualities that will arouse his interest and admiration. It is a mistake to thrust upon the child ideals ready made and imported for the purpose. A hero thrust upon the young imagination may do service for a while, but is likely to be discarded later when that particular hero's virtues really need to be kept before the child much more than they did in the earlier period. George Washington and his hatchet have furnished us a legend that is a good ill.u.s.tration of this. The hero is dressed up to be attractive to children of nursery age, and endowed with nursery virtues. When the children grow up and so outgrow their nursery ideals, they discard interest in and admiration for George Washington: this is a serious loss to our national idealism.

The results of the studies also indicate how significant is suitable literature in the formation of ideals. A comparison of returns from girls with those from boys throws an important side light on this problem. In nearly every group of answers received it was evident that most girls, when they get to a certain age, adopt ideals that are decidedly masculine. The explanation of this seems to lie in the fact that the characters of history and of literature with whom they become most familiar are those showing distinctly masculine qualities. There are real differences between the mind of a girl and the mind of a boy, and these should be taken into consideration in their training. There is great need for the clearer recognition and sharper definition of distinctly feminine ideals. It is not enough to transfer some imitation masculine ideals to the minds of our girls.

We should make a special effort to discover our children's ideals, for several reasons. First of all, by knowing what the girl or boy has nearest the heart we shall be able to enter into closer sympathy with the child, we shall be able to understand much of the conduct that would otherwise baffle as well as annoy us. In the second place, by watching the rise of ideals we shall be better able to direct the child's playing and his reading and those other activities that are needed to supply the experiences and ideas that seem to be lacking, or to discourage tendencies that seem to us undesirable. In the third place, if we know our children's ideals we can make use of these as motive forces in helping us to carry out our larger plans. It is when the boy is in the military stage of his ambitions that we should try to make the virtues of the soldier habitual parts of his character. It is when the girl is ambitious to make a fine garden that we should try to make her fix the habits of orderliness, regularity, and attention to details. Of course, not every girl will want to have a garden, and many a boy never cares to be a soldier; but at every stage there are ideals that can be called upon to fix the heart upon certain virtues until the latter become habits.

It is very easy to ridicule the ideals and ambitions of children when they seem to us too high-flown or futile. But a person's ideals stand too close to the centre of his character to be treated so rudely. It is better to ignore the many trifling flights of fancy that are not likely to have any permanent effect, and to throw the child into circ.u.mstances that will force the emergence of more deep-seated or far-reaching ambitions.

There is another danger in the ease with which a child's faith in ideals is destroyed, when these happen to interfere with our own immediate comfort and desires. When a boy has gotten into some mischief with his friends, and is the only one caught, we are tempted to bring pressure to bear upon him to make him tell who the other culprits were. Joe is ready to take his own punishment, and that of his fellow malefactors, too, rather than "snitch." But for some reason we feel that "justice" demands the conviction of every individual involved. The conflict is not between our sense of justice and the boy's stubbornness or wilfulness; it is rather a struggle between our demand for retribution and the boy's ideal of loyalty. If, through threats and cajolery or more indirect methods, we at last succeed in finding out that it was Mrs. Brown's Bob who was responsible for the whole affair, we have at last broken down Joe's inclination to act according to certain ideal standards. Joe has fallen in his own estimation beyond calculation. It is better to let Bob go "unpunished" than to make Joe go back on his principles.

One important outcome of a study of our children's ideals and ambitions should be the direction of their vocational choices. We have read of Benjamin Franklin's father, who took his boys about to various shops with a view to helping them make up their minds as to what kind of trade they should follow. Nowadays we should consider this method rather crude; but for a variety of reasons most of us do not do even this much for our children. A study of children's plans and hopes for their future work brings out the fact that the desire to "earn money" as a motive in the choice increases up to the age of twelve years, and then declines rapidly. This may be taken to mean that, apart from the enlarged range of interests that comes with increased experience, there is also an efflorescence of the fancy that leads to increased concern with ideal ends. This is confirmed by a comparison of the choice made by children of well-to-do families with those made by children of rather poor people. The children of the poor, in tragically large numbers, appear to accept the fact of working as a necessity of life; they accept this doggedly as a matter of course. The children of more prosperous families, on the other hand, though frequently expressing preferences for the same kinds of occupations, have their hearts set on the joy of achievement, or on the ideal of service, or on the fun of _doing_, in much larger proportions.

From answers written by English children in a factory district these examples are typical:

A boy of eight: "I should like to be a Carpenter. Because my mother says I can be one."

A girl of twelve: "I should like to go out when I am older to earn my own living."

Another girl of twelve: "I think it would be nice to go out to a situation."

In contrast with these are the answers given by children of the same ages who came from homes of culture, if not always of wealth:

A boy of eight: "I would like to be like Major ---- because I like carpentering very much and he carpenters beautifully. Once he bought a box for his silver and there was one tray to it and he wanted to make little fittings for the silver so first he painted some names on some paper of all the different things he had; then he cut them out and supposing he wanted to put knives and forks quickly he would have a little name written down where they ought to go and he made the fittings most beautifully quite as well as any shop would."

A girl of thirteen: "One thing I should like to do would be to be a very clever naturalist, and to know everything about everything alive or in the country world."

A girl of ten: "I should like to be a piano teacher, when I grow up, for then I shall be able to learn to play many pieces of poetry."

A part of this difference is no doubt due to the fact that in many families there are traditional ideals of the obligations of privilege, which the children readily imitate; or to the fact that these children do not have to think about the necessity of earning a livelihood, and so give their attention to the enjoyments that can be derived from various kinds of activity.

The subject of vocational guidance, which has come into great prominence during the past few years, includes so many ideas that are confusing and misleading that large numbers of people have become alarmed and are fighting the movement. In the first place, the t.i.tle itself is misleading. Most people do not enter upon "callings" in the true sense of that word; they get into some kind of occupation or business, but could just as readily have adjusted themselves to any one of a thousand other occupations. Then the matter of _guidance_ is misleading. It is impossible for anyone to-day to undertake to guide young people into their occupations.

All that can be hoped for is that children may be given an opportunity to find out about the different types of work that need to be done, and about the different human qualities that are of value in the various occupations.

The question that concerns the parent is: What special inclinations has the child that can be utilized in a future occupation? It is not so much a question of making full use of your child's talents as it is of giving him an opportunity to do the kind of work in which he will be most happy. Society at large is interested in conserving all the different kinds of ability, but the individual child is concerned with realizing his own ideals, with living, so far as possible, his own life. At the same time, the evidence which we have on the subject--not very much, to be sure--shows that there is really a close connection between what a child likes to do and what he can do well. It is, of course, true that one can learn to do well what at first comes hard, and then learn to like it. But we must not forget that strong inclinations must be carefully considered when future work is being decided upon.

Our children are so imitative that a child with marked talents will occasionally not reveal these in surroundings that lay emphasis on qualities unrelated to these talents. So many a boy with high-grade musical ability will fail to show this where music is looked down upon as something unworthy of a man. In the same way children will develop ideals in imitation of what goes on around them. Every child is likely at some time in his career to look forward to money-making as the most desirable end in life; but most normal children will pa.s.s beyond this ideal before adolescence. If, however, the atmosphere in which the child lives is one of money-getting, the child without strong tendencies toward other ideals is likely to allow this ideal to persist into adolescence and young manhood or womanhood. In such cases the ideal becomes fixed without indicating that the individual is "by nature" of an avaricious temperament or materialistically inclined.

The same principle of imitativeness would, of course, apply to other ideals. This explains to us why the recurrence of certain ideals or modes of life in successive generations of a family leads to the supposition that there are "hereditary" elements at work. It is also a good reason why we should guard against the contaminating influence of unworthy ideals. It is impossible for us to carry about imitation virtues and fool our children into imitating them.

Children begin to form their ideals early in life, and their first standards are derived from the people and the things about them that contribute to their pleasures--sweets and parents and the heroes of the fairy tales.

As the child's experience broadens he borrows ideals from new acquaintances and the characters he meets in his reading.

The child absorbs from his surroundings, from his acquaintances, and from his reading, as well as from the instruction that he receives in school or in church, materials for building a world of what _ought_ to be. And in this world he himself plays a very important role. We must therefore make sure that the materials for ideals which are within our control shall be of the best.

Loose conversation, cynicism, open disrespect for the n.o.ble things in human character, lack of faith in human nature cannot be exhibited to the child day after day without having their sinister effect. It is true that some children, here and there, will resist these unfavorable influences, and will come out of the struggle strong and self-reliant, with faith in their own ideals and with faith in mankind. But we cannot afford to treat the developing character of the child on the theory that it needs exercise and temptation as a gymnast needs exercise and trying tasks. The temptation that becomes a habitual stimulus to wrong doing or wrong thinking has no moral value. The child is only too ready to follow the path of least resistance, and the temptations will come aplenty after the ideals begin to form.

High ideals in the home, and not merely good words; loyalty to ideals and a spirit of confidence in the children, are needed to give the children that confidence in themselves which they need to make them loyal to their own ideals when these are out of harmony with vulgar fashion.

XII.

THE STORK OR THE TRUTH

"Mother, where do babies come from?"

Some day you will be asked this question by your little girl or your little boy--if you have not already been asked. What will your answer be?

Even if you have been accustomed to giving frank answers to your children's questions about all sorts of subjects, you are likely to hesitate when it comes to this. You will be tempted to say what you were probably told yourself, under similar circ.u.mstances. You will perhaps say that the doctor brings babies in his satchel, or that the stork brings babies in his bill. Or perhaps you will feel impelled to tell Harry to go out and play, and ask you again a few years later when he will be old enough to understand.

The telling of a myth like the stork story is harmless enough for the time being. We have entertained Santa Claus for ages without undermining the morals of our children. And we shall continue to retell the fairy stories, for, although they are not, strictly speaking, "true" stories, they have their place in the life of the child. Why can we not go on, then, as we have done in the past, leaning upon the stork?

The difference between the story of where babies come from and the story of Santa Claus or Mother Hubbard is a very important one.

Santa Claus and Mother Hubbard represent ideas and interests that are but pa.s.sing phases in the child's development, whereas knowledge about reproduction is something that grows in interest with the years and reaches its deepest significance just at the time when you can hardly, if at all, regain your hold upon your child, once you have lost it. It does not matter much who disillusions your child about Santa Claus. The disappointment is brief, and soon the child can look upon the legend as a joke. But it does matter very much who tells your child that the stork story is all a lie, and _how_ he is told.

It is well for mothers to realize that the embarra.s.sment which they may feel when this question is first asked is quite foreign to the child, for the child at this time has no knowledge whatever of s.e.x.

To him it is simply a question for satisfying his momentary curiosity. Later on, when the child has become aware of the idea of s.e.x, he is not likely to ask his mother embarra.s.sing questions, or, if he should ask them, the situation would be equally embarra.s.sing to both--unless you have in the meanwhile kept in close sympathy with your children, and they feel that they can come to you with any question and be answered frankly. And the way to keep them in close sympathy is by meeting frankly every question as it arises. It is not necessary to answer every question by telling everything you know; it is necessary merely to tell enough to satisfy the child's immediate need. Not only, then, does your frank answer tend to keep the child in touch with the mother, but you protect him in this manner against going for his information to sources that are frequently contaminating. The information that boys and girls give one another about s.e.x matters is often something appalling, not only in its distance from the truth, but in the amount of filth with which it is encrusted. It is the desire to keep his mind clean, then, that should prompt the mother to tell her child what he wants to know when he wants to know it. A third consideration is found in the fact that many children, when they do not receive satisfactory answers to their queries, will reflect and brood about the subject to a degree that becomes morbid. This is especially likely to happen where the subject of the child's inquiry is treated as though it were an improper or a wicked one to speak about, so that the child dares not ask others for enlightenment.

That the early answering of the child's questions may offset both morbid curiosity and the danger of resorting to filthy sources of information is ill.u.s.trated by the story of a seven-year-old boy who was invited by an older boy to come to the wood-shed for the purpose of being told an important secret. "If you promise not to tell any one," the older boy began, "I will tell you where babies come from."

"Why, I know where babies come from," replied the second, not greatly interested. "Oh, yes you do! I suppose you think that a stork brings them? Well, you're 'way off there. The stork ain't got nothing to do with it," the instructor continued breathlessly, for fear of being deprived of his opportunity to impart his precious secret. At last the secret was out; but the younger replied, coolly, "That's nothing. My mother told me that when I was four years old."

Since the matter had ceased to be a secret, and since the story even lacked novelty, all opportunity for the elaboration of details was destroyed.

But what can you tell to a child of four or five? For that is the age at which the question is likely first to present itself.

Remember that the child is not asking a s.e.x question, but one about the direct source of himself, or about some particular baby that he has seen. You can say that the baby grew from a tiny egg, which is in a little chamber that grows as the baby grows, until the baby is big enough to come out. This will satisfy most children for a considerable time, but some children will immediately ask, "Where is that little room?" To which you may reply, "The growing baby must be kept in the most protected place possible, so it is kept under the mother's heart." Or, you may say that the baby grew from a seed implanted in the mother's body, that it was nourished by her blood until it grew large enough, when it came out at the cost of much suffering. Of course, you will tell the story as personally as you can, about your particular child, and in as simple a way as you can.

If you tell the little girl or boy this much you have told him all that he probably cares to know at this time; you have told the truth so that you have nothing to fear about his being disillusioned either as to the story or as to your own trustworthiness; and you have avoided arousing the suspicion that certain subjects are unworthy of understanding. And then you will find that this new conception of his relation to you, as truly a part of your being, will deepen and strengthen his natural feeling of affection and sympathy. It is also well with the first telling to impress the child--in so many words, if necessary--with the idea that he must always come to you for anything he wants to know, and that you are always glad to tell him.

As the child grows older his knowledge of life must grow also. In the country and in small towns the child becomes familiar with many important facts about life without any special effort being required to inform him. He learns that chickies hatch out of eggs and that the eggs have been laid by the mother hen. He learns that the field and garden plants grow from seeds and that the seeds were borne by the mother plants. He learns about the coming of the calf and the colt; and even city children can learn that kittens and puppies come from mother animals. It is a comparatively simple matter for a child with such knowledge to get the further information that the baby brother developed from an egg that mother kept near her heart during the hatching time. Much of this knowledge that the country child acquires incidentally must be brought to the city child through special efforts and devices, in the school as well as in the home, that he may acquire the fundamental facts of bearing and rearing young, in plants as well as in animals, and that he may look upon these facts not as strange or disconcerting marvels, but as natural happenings.

Miss Garrett, one of the most successful teachers of s.e.x and reproduction, tells the story of some city boys who had been taught these things, and who had decided, in their club, to raise rabbits.

The selection of a father rabbit and a mother rabbit was too important a matter to leave to a committee, so the whole club went in a body to attend to these preliminaries. The care the boys took of the mother rabbit during her pregnancy was in itself an education. Later Miss Garrett saw the leader of the club--who had been the "toughest" of the gang--with another boy on the street, while a pregnant woman was trying to cross with a heavy basket.

"Come on, Jim," he called, "let's help her across." This same boy but a few months back would have ridiculed the poor woman in her plight.

Every child can learn what Jim and his companion learned. He can learn to respect motherhood and to be considerate of mothers as mothers. It is very interesting to see the great differences in this regard between families in which the fact of motherhood is a secret, and those in which it is a matter of common knowledge. I was visiting a friend whose six-year-old boy knew that another baby was expected, and he was very careful to avoid annoying his mother. Of course, the att.i.tude of the other members of the family also had an influence upon the conduct of this child. But another mother complained that she received very little consideration during pregnancy from her oldest son--a boy of fourteen--although all the other members of the family were as careful and as thoughtful as could be desired. This second mother, however, had allowed her older boys to grow up on the a.s.sumption that s.e.x and reproduction had nothing to do with life, or, at any rate, were of no concern to them and were not suitable subjects to know about; so that her boys did _not_ know that something unusual was in the air, or that something special was expected of them.

The important thing for the mother to do during these growing years is to retain the confidence of the children, and to give them an opportunity to become acquainted with the everyday facts about plants and animals. The questions that come to the child's mind will be questions of motherhood and babyhood, chiefly, and not questions of s.e.x or fatherhood. When these questions do at last arise, as they are sure to almost any time after twelve years, and sometimes even before, you have a great advantage if your child brings his questions to you instead of to his casual acquaintances of the school or street, even if you are not prepared to answer all the questions for him. The girl will come to her mother, and the boy will come to his father, if they have acquired the habit of coming with frankness and confidence. Then, if for any reason you are not qualified to tell what needs to be told, you may just as frankly say so and refer the child to the right instructor, who may be a teacher or the family physician. Older children may even be sent to suitable books. But the most desirable condition is that in which the parents have prepared in advance to answer all the questions themselves, and even to antic.i.p.ate some questions.

[Ill.u.s.tration: In the country children become acquainted with the facts of life.]

The child should receive instruction along these lines at various stages in his development, even up to young manhood or womanhood, corresponding to his physical development and to his mental development, which normally proceed in close relation to each other.

The girl should be informed how to care for her health. The boy should be instructed about the s.e.x life of the opposite s.e.x to know what they have a right to expect, or rather what they have no right to demand of the other. Boys during the adolescent period, which has been called the "age of chivalry and romance," are keen to appreciate the rights of others and their own duties to the weak; it is at this time that we are to appeal to their sense of honor in establishing ideals of purity, and the sense of responsibility as bearers of the life stream. The standards of s.e.x morals are established during this period, for girls as well as for boys. Their strength to time of temptation will lie in the ideals which now become fixed. We want our girls to grow up demanding purity of the young men they will meet, not pretending that they do not know the difference. And we want our boys to grow up with faith in the literal truth of that fine line about Sir Galahad: