Part 37

This was only one of the many interests which he had plenty of time to follow, with the same sort of enthusiasm. At the age of fourteen, his laboratory was a thing of the past, but for all that, years after, at college, among his various other achievements, he had no trouble in winning a prize scholarship in chemistry.

Another boy, brought up in a similar way and having learned to read without teaching, first took a lively interest in automobiles. When the family car went wrong, he watched the repairs, asked questions, and was ready to lend a helping hand. Many of the troubles on a modern car are apt to be in connection with the electrical equipment--battery, lights, magneto, timer, self-starter, etc. Sooner or later, a boy who takes an interest, is apt to become more or less familiar with the principle of all these things, especially if his nerves and brain are not deadened by forced application. At any rate, this boy soon did. This led to an interest in other electrical things--the ringing of bells and buzzers about the house, and the installation of an electric motor which would run the sewing machine, or a grindstone, or a little lathe. Then he got hold of a booklet about wireless telegraphy. There is something thrilling about the idea which appeals to the imagination--the receiving of mysterious messages from afar, through the air, and sending back from your little instrument the far-flying answers.

At the age of twelve, this boy with the aid of a Japanese servant, had set up his own aerial and apparatus, had learned the code alphabet and was thoroughly familiar with all the delicate intricacies of detector, tuning coil, sparker and the rest of it. He had gotten in touch with certain other wireless operators within a radius of ten miles and, although he had never seen any of them, he could recognize instantly the sound of their different instruments and it was a joy and delight to hold conversations with them and call them up for a good-night, before he went to bed. And before he was thirteen, he undertook to construct with his own hands a tuning coil which would be better for his purposes than the kind he could afford to buy at the store. After much determined effort, he succeeded and installed it and had the satisfaction of finding that it was, indeed, decidedly better.

Another boy, who had never had to bother his head with school-books, but who had also learned to read, in due time got started on a new interest by a printing-press, which was given to him for Christmas. He puzzled with it and worked over it, until he learned to set up type and operate it very nicely. Then he began printing visiting cards--first for himself, then mother and father, then the servants and friends. It was great fun to take orders from them and charge them ten cents a dozen, in a business-like way. Next he got a larger press and different kinds of type, and by dint of perseverance he found among the trades-people a few kindly souls, who allowed him to print their business cards for them at so much a hundred.

Out of this interest grew a more ambitious one. How fine it would be to print and publish a little newspaper, with stories and verses and advertisements and subscriptions and everything! This appealed to the imagination and became an absorbing ambition. In this particular case, the newspaper project soon outdistanced the printing press. The newspaper must be bigger and finer than a press of that kind could possibly manage. So the boy went to a regular printer and found out about the cost and details of publishing such a paper as he had in mind. He didn't have enough money of his own for that, but he figured out that by going again to the tradespeople and getting them to pay for advertising in his paper and by making people pay for subscriptions to the paper, the problem could be solved. He decided to limit the scope of his enterprise to the publication of six numbers, one every month. He went to different tradespeople with whom the family dealt, stated his intentions, and asked for advertisements at the rate of fifty cents a number. He was only twelve years old at the time and they naturally had doubts about his ability to carry out the project; but some were found with enough kindly sympathy to agree to pay him, when he brought them the paper containing the advertisement. In the same way, among relatives and friends and neighbors, he sought subscriptions at the rate of five cents a copy and succeeded in obtaining a sufficient number for his purpose.

He chose a name for his paper by himself but, when it came to the question of the reading matter, he did not presume to attempt much of that, at first, but felt he could do better by appealing to his mother and aunt and others for the kind of contributions he had in mind.

He carried out his project, to the letter,--six numbers, one a month--and at the end of it, he not only had the satisfaction of a fine effort well done, but he had also earned a clear profit of over fifteen dollars. Likewise, he had helped the growth of character, the taste for literary achievement, the acquisition of much useful experience and information, and considerable mental training of an admirable sort.

I might continue in this way, almost indefinitely, telling about the interests and results which may come quite naturally to boys and girls freed from the routine of school training.

Enough has been said, however, to suggest food for thought. With a feeling of interest, or enthusiasm, behind it, almost any kind of mental exercise, or physical exercise, takes on the color of gladness. Without interest, or enthusiasm, almost any kind of compulsory effort becomes drab and drear and irksome. The intellect can be a splendid friend to the feelings--it can bring all sorts of suggestions to them, and point out their usefulness and their charm--but if, for some reason which may be entirely intuitive and fundamental and all-wise, the feelings refuse to respond, or to cooeperate, any further compulsion is apt to prove futile and unproductive of the right growth of character.

These are a few of the considerations which led to the remark, in connection with our boy, Bob, that the question of schools and school education is one of the most perplexing and troubling.

No loving mother is responsible for the existing school system, nor could she alter it, if she wanted to. Even if she has a little pinch of the heart at the thought of subjecting her sensitive boy to such an ordeal, how can she dare to do otherwise? Among people of all classes, it is considered proper and necessary, for children to be sent to school.

But provided a mother has a clear understanding that her child's feelings and vitality are the most important things, it is always possible for her to seek some sort of a compromise in his favor. She can delay the time of sending him away, until nine, or ten, or eleven. If he goes to a private school, she can very often arrange matters so that he need only attend the morning session, and never be "kept in," after hours, for punishment. She can help him with the studies which he brings home, and take great pains never to scold him, or show displeasure, or disappointment, if he gets bad marks. She can explain to him that while it is only natural for a school-teacher to attach an exaggerated importance to the training of the brain, mothers and fathers care a great deal more about deeper and finer interests and the right kind of conduct.

That is about all most mothers can do,--no matter how great their love--as long as the present system remains in force. When, or how, it will ever be changed radically, is something about which it would be futile to express an opinion.

Another question which naturally arises in this connection has to do with college and the very difficult entrance examinations which a modern boy is required to pass. How is he to do that, unless he is sent to school in time to be prepared? Many mothers and fathers want their boys to have a college education.

To this objection, there is an easy and reassuring answer.

Even if your boy has never seen the inside of a school-book, before the age of thirteen or fourteen, that need not prevent him from being prepared for college, just as well and at about the same time, as the average boy who has been attending school from the age of five, or six.

All of the boys I have referred to, passed their examinations far better than the average. All those thousands of hours which were devoted to other interests, entirely apart from school-books, did not have the effect of retarding the boys' mental development and training. It was only a different kind of training, more in accordance with the methods of nature. When these boys arrived at the age of thirteen, they had more character, more self-control, more determination and more mental equipment, than the vast majority of boys acquire at school. I think it is a fair presumption, that under favorable conditions, such a result may be expected.

It was the college question that eventually brought these boys to preparatory schools, at the ages of thirteen, or fourteen. And in order to enter a preparatory school and get used to the ways of school-books, it may be necessary for the boy to do some preliminary studying, for a few months, with some one to help him. But by that time, he has an object in view, his interest is involved, and he will seldom require the slightest urging. Without exception, the boys I have referred to attained high rank, both in school and in college.

There remains one more thing to think about in connection with the bringing up of children. What about religion? Here is also a consideration which can hardly be avoided.

If the parents are church-goers and still believe in the truth and teachings of the Bible,--that is one thing. In that case, all a mother has to do is to encourage her children in the same belief, take them to church and Sunday School, and teach them to say their prayers from earliest childhood.

But there are also many parents, who no longer go to church and whose faith in the traditional teachings has become very much shaken. Their numbers have been increasing very rapidly, for reasons which we have referred to, and are extremely likely to keep on increasing. Suppose a loving mother belongs to this class--what is best and wisest for her to do with her son?

"Mother, where did I come from? And who made all these other people? What for?"

Those are simple and natural questions, which are apt to come fairly soon in the growth of intelligence. They call for some sort of answer. It is the first beginning of a soul feeling, a groping for a faith of some sort in human destiny.

What is to be mother's answer?

If she says she doesn't know--nobody does--that is very unsatisfactory and very troubling. The groping will still continue, with more and more persistency. If mother has a reason for refusing to tell, the information must be sought elsewhere. And it will very soon be forthcoming from some one--the nurse, or the cook, or the waitress. God made the world--He lives in heaven--He rewards people if they are good, by making them angels; and if they are bad, He sends them to hell, to be roasted by the devil. The churches, which the child has seen, are where people go to pray to God and worship Him.

This answers the question and is perfectly satisfactory, for the time being. But the attitude of mother is apt to give rise to suspicion that she was only pretending, when she said she didn't know. If the nurse knows--and all the people who go to church, know--then mother must know, too. Perhaps mother, for reasons of her own, doesn't wish him to know yet, and would blame the nurse for telling him? Then the nurse would blame him. If mother chooses to conceal things from him, he can avoid trouble by concealing things from mother. This implies a breach of confidence between mother and son--which is not at all good for a forming character.

It is far better for mother to show a sympathetic understanding of the soul need and respond to it accordingly. A child has no end of imagination, and feelings to correspond. It is the spirit and meaning of ideas which signify, and not their material accuracy. Rhymes and jingles and mother goose and fairy tales and Santa Claus are all founded on an understanding of this. They supply in fanciful form a very real and necessary food for the inner nature. In the same way, with this religious groping, food that will satisfy must be given in some form.

But as a religious belief is something which it is hoped will last through life, it would seem best to clothe it, as far as possible, in ideas that will not have to be discarded by the intellect, when that becomes enlightened.