Part 9

Whatever is universal is beautiful.

Nothing disperses, so to speak, the fogs enveloping the thought of sex like the realization of its universality. The air clears when we know that every living thing is bound by the same laws, even the flowers in our gardens.

We have an interesting testimony as to the helpfulness of this thought from one of the great educators of youth, Fröbel. Speaking of his own childhood when he became conscious of what his father, who was a minister, was constantly meeting in his parish work, he says:

"Matrimonial and family relations were often the subject of his admonitory and corrective conversation and remonstrances. The way in which my father spoke of this, made me consider the subject as one of the most pressing and difficult for man, and in my youth and innocence, I felt deep grief and pain that man alone among created things should pay the penalty of such a sexual difference that made it hard for him to do right.... Just then my oldest brother, who lived away from home, came back for a time, and when I told him my delight in the purple threads of the hazel buds, he made me notice a similar sexual difference among flowers.

"Now my mind was satisfied. I learned that what had troubled me was a widespread arrangement throughout nature to which even the quiet, beautiful growths of flowers were subject. Henceforth human and natural life, soul and flower existence, were inseparable in my eyes, and my hazel blossoms I see still, like angels that opened to me the great temple of nature.... Henceforth it seemed as if I had the clue of Ariadne, which would lead me through all the wrong and devious ways of life; and a life of more than thirty years with nature, often, it is true, falling back and clouded for great intervals, has taught me to know this, especially the plant and tree world, as a mirror--I might say, an emblem--of man's life in its highest spiritual relations; so that I look upon it as one of the greatest and deepest conceptions of human life and spirit when in holy Scripture the comparison of good and evil is drawn from a tree. Nature, as a whole,--even the realms of crystals and stones,--teaches us to discriminate good from evil; but, for me, not so powerfully, quietly, clearly, and openly as the plant and flower kingdom."

The stronger this feeling of the universality of sex, the more dispersive, as it were, is the thought of the subject. It would be difficult to connect personal and impure thoughts or feelings with a star whose distance in space was realized; and so with all other thoughts, the more they can be elevated into wide, general regions, the less disturbing they will be likely to become.

All the facts of sex-life can be learned in the flower, and the associations thus indelibly impressed cannot fail to leave at least a trace of fragrance and loveliness on even an obtuse nature. No matter what the later experiences or mistakes may be, the whole conception of this side of life cannot sink so low as might be the case if there were not this flower-sweet background. And that is worth something.

It is not difficult to pass at once from the flower life to human life, and there are cases where this may be advisable. When, however, the beginning-work has been done with young children, and when we consider all the stress laid upon nature-work these days in school and out, and all the books written and all the stories told of living creatures of all kinds, it is helpful and easy to linger in the delightful and impersonal realm of the lower life yet longer, with this distinct advantage, that the feeling of universality, which is very different from the thought of it, will be strengthened.

For several reasons, the step from plant life to animal life can well be taken by means of the fish, particularly with little children. There is nothing prettier than living fishes in water. The fascination they have for all conditions and ages is shown by the crowds always seen at exhibitions of live fish in aquaria.

The child can have his little aquarium at home, which may consist of a glass globe plentifully supplied with some pretty water weed and a goldfish or two. Fishes do not like the bright light all around them, and should be provided with some sort of refuge, like the water weed, or if the tank is large enough, with stones piled up to make a cave. For the same reason, the globe should not be set in the window or on the middle of a small table, but should be placed where at least one side of it may be shadowed by something. Pebbles should be put in the bottom of the tank and not too many fishes crowded together. They need room to move freely, and also plenty of fresh water for breathing. At the bird-stores small aquaria can usually be bought and fitted out with the proper amount of water plants to balance the breathing of the fishes. For the impurity breathed out by the fish is the same as that breathed out by all creatures, the carbon dioxide which it discharges into the water being just what the water plant needs to grow on. Also the water plant returns pure oxygen to the water, which is just what the fish needs to breathe. This story of the interdependence of the two, and the possibility of so balancing the plant and animal life in the tank that it is never necessary to change the water, can be made very interesting, and, needless to say, very illuminating. The fish cannot live out of the water, and yet it breathes air. There is always air in the water unless it has been artificially removed as by boiling, and this little bit of air is enough for the fish, which is cold-blooded and does not need so much fuel to keep its vital forces burning. But this little it must have, and it will suffer for the want of it, just as we suffer in a very close, unventilated room; and if the supply should become too small, the fish will die, just as we should die in a room where no fresh air could enter. So the fish must have the water changed unless there is enough plant life in its tank to keep the air pure. When suffering for air, the fish shows signs of distress, which should never be ignored. If it keeps close to the surface of the water with its mouth up and frequently swallows the outside air, that is a sign it needs fresh water. If it does not have it after a while it will die, as it cannot live on air undiluted by water.

Fishes need very little feeding, particularly if there are water plants in the tank; they find food from them. The best way is to follow the directions of the man who sells you the fishes. If too much food is given them it quickly fouls the aquarium, and then the water must be changed and everything cleaned up. In changing the water, care should be taken to have that which is put in about the same temperature as that taken out. A sudden application of too cold water is not good for the fishes. The children should take care of their pets themselves and see that they do not suffer.

The motions of the fish are what make it so attractive. How does it swim? Not with its fins to any extent. The whole back part of the body, including the tail, is moved from side to side as the fish swims. It moves its tail as a paddle is used at the stern of a boat, and so the fish paddles himself along. The fins are used more as balancers. They keep the fish upright in the water. As soon as it stops using them, it turns over on one side.

The fish opens and shuts its mouth constantly; it appears to be swallowing water. And so it is, so far as its mouth is concerned, but the water it takes in does not go down into the stomach. It is not really swallowed, but passes out at the gills, which are also constantly opening and shutting. The gills are red inside and are covered with a fine network of blood vessels. The air in the water moves against these delicate blood vessels, which are able to take what they need--the oxygen--from it. Thus the fish uses gills instead of lungs for breathing.

Sometimes, fishes pick up pebbles in their mouths and drop them again. Some fishes, but not goldfishes, make noises.

The adaptation of the fish to its surroundings is interesting. Not only is its form the very best for moving quickly through the water, but its covering is peculiarly appropriate, many fishes having a hard, protecting coat of shining scales. These scales, besides being beautiful and useful, are interesting in another way, for we know that they are only modified hairs, growing from the skin as hairs grow but having their form and size developed in special ways to serve their purpose. Scales and feathers are only another form of hairs.

Many interesting stories of fishes can be told or read to the children, and among other things they can learn about the swim-bladder, the large, strong air-sac, which can be compressed or distended at pleasure, making the fish lighter or heavier and enabling it to rise to the surface of the water or sink to the bottom. In Nova Scotia, where many codfishes are caught, the swim-bladders are called sounds, and are cooked as a delicacy.

In the spring of the year we eat the roe of fish, which is nothing more nor less than fish eggs. Wherever shad are used, the children will be familiar with the shad roe; and in the South mullet roes are universally used. The people there dry them in the sun, and the children particularly are very fond of them. The Russian caviare is the eggs of a species of fish, and is considered a great delicacy by some people.

Where do these eggs come from? The fish market or the kitchen on fish day will answer the question. The child who is privileged to pass part of the summer at the seashore where fishermen ply their trade will have ample opportunity to know, as will the child who goes fishing in any brook or pond and is allowed (as he always should be) to clean and cook the fish he has caught. Also the smelts, which are cooked whole, only the intestines being removed through a hole near the gills, will answer the question.

The eggs of the fish are contained in a sort of double pouch or sac, shaped something like an old-fashioned silk purse. These sacs open into the intestine near its exit. They are the ovaries of the fish. From the inside of each ovary the tiny eggs, or ova, grow, just as the ovules grow in the plant ovary or seed-pod. At first they are a part of the ovary; later they grow larger and fall loose, until the ovary is filled with them. The ovary is always inside the fish. It is there when the fish is born, and even then there are the tiniest hints of ova in it. But the ova do not grow large until the fish is mature; they wait until the fish has developed its strength, its bone, and muscle. Then in the springtime they grow rapidly. They grow until they are ripe, when they lie free in the ovary; and others grow and are freed in the same way until the ovary, which has also enlarged to accommodate them, is quite full. The female fish is larger than the male, and looks plump and rounded at this season. In course of time the eggs thus developed will be shed--or born--whether they are fertilized or not. But, if they are not fertilized, no further growth will take place in them, and they will soon perish.

The child, knowing about the fertilization of flowers, can easily be led to see that the fish ova, like the flower ovules, cannot develop without pollen. The anthers containing the pollen are found in the male fish, and look like the ovaries, only they are not so large and their contents are not so firm. They seem filled with a formless substance instead of with little globular eggs. Under the microscope this formless substance is seen to be made of a semi-fluid material in which are held millions of pollen grains! Only we no longer call them pollen grains. We may call them fertilizing cells if we please, though there are several names for them. But they are essentially the same as pollen. They grow, in the same way, from the inside of the anther (which may now be called the testicle) and become free when ripe. The pollen grains cannot move of themselves; the fertilizing cells can. Each fertilizing cell is like an ovum, excepting that it is not so spherical and is lengthened into a sort of lash by which it can propel itself through the water. When the ova are laid by one fish, the other swims over them and the fertilizing fluid is expelled into the water just as the eggs were. There is no union whatever between the parents for the purpose of fertilization. As soon as a fertilizing cell comes in contact with an ovum it seeks to enter into its substance, and as soon as this has happened, the two cells thus united begin to develop into a very tiny fish. As soon as the change begins, we have the embryo of the fish, which thus corresponds to the embryo of the seed.

There is one great difference between the ovary of the plant and that of the fish. When the plant ovary is ripe, its seeds are shed, and then the ovary itself falls off. The plant ovary thus bears only one set of seeds. In the fish, the ovary always remains in the fish, and after the eggs are shed, it shrinks up to a very small size, and remains so until it again develops and becomes distended with more eggs the following season. The same is true of the fish's testicles. When the time comes, the fertilizing material is expelled. After this the sac shrinks up to small size until the following season.

When the embryo has grown to its perfect form, the egg-shell is broken and out swims the young fish. When it leaves the shell we say it hatches, just as we say the plant embryo sprouts when it leaves the egg-shell or seed-shell. Like the pollen of the flower, the fertilizing cells of the fish cannot act upon any ova but those of its own species.

The young fish, like the young plant, inherits characteristics from both parents. From its father it may acquire a certain shape, certain markings, a certain disposition. Since the father's part in the creation of his offspring is less obvious and apparently less intimate than that of the mother, the child can be helped to put a certain value on the thought of fatherhood which later will strengthen the bond of union between himself and his own father, deepening his love for his father and his confidence in him. That the boy love his father is as necessary to his welfare as that he love his mother, and the mother should, in all the early years in which the sex instruction may fall most heavily on her, impress upon the young heart the beauty and glory of paternity. The sacrifice of the father who gives all his strength and time, scarce allowing himself a moment of relaxation or absence from business that he may provide for the needs of the family, is as great as the sacrifice of the mother who devotes her time and strength to caring for the home and the children. The tendency in teaching young people is to lay all the stress on motherhood and mother love, which is a manifest injustice to the human father, who deserves not only the natural love of his children, but the deeper, more consecrated love which comes from a pure and perfect knowledge of fatherhood.

Perhaps nothing will help a young man at the most critical age of his life so much as his love and faith in his father. And perhaps nothing will tend to lift the whole subject of paternity in the popular mind to the plane where it belongs, as will this love and knowledge, when it is bred in the child from his early years. Many difficulties in handling this subject that become insuperable might never even exist if the knowledge of fatherhood, if love and respect for it and for the father as the giver of life, were bred into the boy at an early age. Moreover a certain shyness, which often makes it more difficult for fathers to talk to their sons on these matters than for the mothers to do so, would not have existed if they themselves as children and youth had been educated to a complete knowledge of the sex-life by one or both parents. The cause of this shyness is in many cases ignorance of how to present the facts, and a misconception of the difficulties of speaking to a pure-minded child about them. Nothing surprises the parent more than the way difficulties vanish when once the course of instruction to the youth has been entered upon.

In the lower life the father seldom cares for his offspring; and this is true among the fishes, where neither parent as a rule assumes any other responsibility than properly disposing of and fertilizing the eggs. Where, however, any care is taken, it not infrequently devolves upon the father instead of the mother. This is true of the fresh-water black bass and of the stickleback, where the father protects the eggs until they are hatched, and protects and cares for the young fish. In the case of the stickleback, the father even makes a nest to contain the eggs.

Thus far, the process of the renewal of life is, so to speak, impersonal. The eggs are laid by one fish and fertilized by the other, this being necessary to the development of the young. The parents are endowed with an instinct which informs them when the time is at hand; and the male fish guided by this instinct applies the fertilizing material where it is needed,--that is, over the surface of the fresh-laid eggs. The number of eggs laid by fishes should be noticed, as it is a fact which will be useful later. Several millions of eggs have been counted in the ovaries of one fish. The number of fertilizing cells in one testicle would be incalculable. Fish eggs and young fishes are liable to many fatalities; they are destroyed in immense numbers. Consequently, if the race is to survive, there must be an almost inexhaustible supply.

Fishes kept in confinement will not as a rule multiply. Nothing is so sensitive as the reproductive system. Lacking certain stimuli which it finds in its natural surroundings, it will not become active. The goldfish in the globe will, if a female, have the ovary containing undeveloped ova, the male will have the testicles containing the fertilizing cells, but these will not mature. It is as though the whole system of the fish missed the freedom of space, the changes of season, the variety of substances at the bottom of the water,--all that goes to make "home" for it, and so languished in body as well as spirits.

The child who, in connection with a multitude of other interesting facts concerning fish life, learns those concerning its multiplication, will look upon them as perfectly natural and matter-of-fact.