Tag: two

  • GESTATION OR PREGNANCY

    GESTATION OR PREGNANCY

    Gestation is “the act of carrying young in the Uterus, from the time of conception to that of parturition.” Conception occurs at the moment of the impregnation of the ovum; parturition is the act of delivery, or childbirth. Pregnancy is “the state of being with child.” The terms “period of gestation,” and “period of pregnancy,” respectively, are employed by medical authorities to designate the time during which the mother carries the young within her own body—from the moment of the impregnation of the ovum until the moment of the final delivery of the child into the outer world.

    The term of pregnancy in woman continues for over nine calendar months (or ten lunar months)—from about 275 to 280 days, though in exceptional cases it may be terminated in seven calendar months, or on the other hand may continue for ten calendar months. The usual method is to figure 280 days from the first day of the last menstruation. A simple method of calculating the probable date of delivery is as follows: Count back three months, and then add seven days, and you will have the date of probable delivery. Example: A woman’s first day of last menstruation is March 28. Counting back three months gives us December 28; and adding seven days to this gives us January 4, as the date of probable delivery. There will always be a possible margin of a few days before or after the ascertained probable date—but the delivery will very closely approximate said date. Ignore the shortage of days of February in this calculation, the same being covered by the general margin allowed.

    Development of the Impregnated Ovum. In the preceding lesson we terminated our consideration of the impregnated ovum at the point at which, after the process of segmentation, the “primitive trace” had appeared. This primitive trace appears as an opaque streak, or straight line, formed of an aggregation of cells of a distinctive quality. This delicate “trace” or “streak” is the first indication of the form of the coming child. It is the basis, pattern, or mould, in or around which the spinal column is to be formed, and around which the entire young body is to be developed by the wonderful and intricate processes of dividing and reduplication, and the folding and combination of cells. From one end of this “trace” develops the head; from the other end develops the lower end of the spine. At a later stage there appear tiny “buds” in the positions at which the arms and legs should be; these gradually develop, and their ends split into tiny fingers and toes, and finally are transformed into perfect little arms and legs, miniatures of those of the adult human being.

    The term “the embryo” is employed to designate the developing young creature in the earlier stages of its development, particularly before the end of the third month of its existence. After the end of the third month the embryo is called “the fetus.” In the short space of 280 days the young creature evolves and develops from a single simple cell into a complex organism—a perfect miniature human being. Nature works a wonderful miracle here, and yet so common is it that we take it all as a matter of course, and lose sight of the miracle. From the most simple forms are formed in the developing creature the most complex organs and parts. The heart is formed from a tiny straight line of cells, by enlargement and partition. The stomach and intestines, likewise, develop from a tiny straight line of cells arranged as a tiny tube—the stomach is formed by dilation of one part of the tube, while the large intestine experiences a similar though lesser distention and a greater growth in length; the smaller intestines being formed by growth in length and circumference. The other organs evolve from similar simple beginnings.

    The embryo is nourished during its earlier stages by means of the “yolk sack,” or “umbilical vesicle,” which is outside the body of the embryo, being joined to it by means of the umbilical duct. This yolk sack (originally formed by a “drawing together” in the ovum, which thus separates itself into two portions or areas) is an important feature of the life of the embryo, as it nourishes and sustains it in its earlier stages. Blood vessels form in this yolk sack, and after a time its fluid is absorbed, and after the third month the sack gradually disappears.

    After the passing away of the yolk sack, the embryo is nourished and sustained by the “allantois,” another peculiar sack which is formed. This sack readily becomes filled with blood-vessels, and serves to nourish the embryo by sustenance obtained from the body of the mother through the walls of the Uterus, a direct communication with the blood-vessels of the mother thus being secured. The blood in the embryo, and that in the mother, come into close contact, thus allowing the embryo to be nourished by the blood of the mother. After a time, in turn, the allantois diminishes and dwindles away, its offices being taken up and performed by the “placenta” or “afterbirth.”

    The Placenta or Afterbirth. The Placenta, or afterbirth, is a round, flat substance or organ, contained within the Uterus, by which communication and connection is established and maintained between the fetus and the mother, by means of the umbillical cord. It is a flat, circular mass, about seven inches in diameter, and weighing about sixteen ounces. It is attached to the sides of the Uterus of the mother during the period of gestation, and is expelled from the body of the mother, as “the afterbirth,” after the birth of the child.

    Let us pause a moment, and reconsider the several steps in Nature’s plan for nourishing the embryo and fetus. In the first place, as we have seen, there is the yolk sack or umbillical vesicle, filled with a fluid which nourishes the embryo. This gradually disappears in time, and is replaced by the “allantois” which by connection with the walls of the Uterus is enabled to nourish the fetus from and by the blood of the mother. For a short time, however, the embryo is nourished by both the yolk sack and the allantois. Then the allantois assumes the entire task, and the yolk sack passes away. Then, later, the placenta replaces the allantois, and the latter passes away as did its predecessor. The placenta works along the same general lines as the allantois, but is a far more complex way and with a much higher degree of efficiency, as we shall see presently.

    The placenta is connected with the body of the fetus by what is known as “the umbillical cord.” The “umbillicus” or “navel” in the human being marks the place at which the umbillical cord entered the body of the fetus, from which it was severed after the birth of the child. The purpose of the umbillical cord is to contain and support the umbillical arteries and veins through which the fetus obtains nourishment from the placental substance, and through which the return blood flows. The rich red arterial blood is carried from the placenta to the fetus, and is then distributed over the body of the fetus, nourishing and building it up; the dark venous blood, laden with the waste products of the body of the fetus, is carried back to the placenta, there to be repurified and rendered again rich and nourishing.

    The story of the circulation of the blood of the fetus is most interesting. Although the fetal blood is derived from that of the mother, as we have said, yet the maternal blood does not pass directly from the circulatory system of the mother into that of the fetus; nor does the blood of the fetus return directly into the circulatory system of the mother. In fact, the fetal blood never comes in direct contact with that of the mother, or vice versa. The fetus has an independent circulatory system of its own, and yet, at the same time, from the moment of the placental connection until the moment of childbirth, all its nourishment is derived from its mother.

    The secret of the above paradoxical statement is made apparent when we understand the meaning of the scientific term “osmosis.” Osmosis is “the passage of a fluid through a membrane”; it is a chemical process, caused by the chemical affinity between two liquids or gases separated one from the other by a porous diaphragm or substance. In the process of osmosis in the case before us, the fetal blood takes up nourishing substances and oxygen from the blood of the mother, and passes on to the latter the waste products of the fetal system, by means of passing these substances through the thin porous membranes which separate the two independent systems of blood vessels, i. e., the system of the fetus, and that of the mother. Before birth, in fact, the fetus has its blood nourished and oxygenated by means of the food partaken of by its mother, and the oxygen taken in by the mother in her breathing. After its birth, the infant eats and breathes for itself, and thus nourishes its blood supply directly, instead of receiving it indirectly from the mother.

    The Placenta begins to be formed about the third month of gestation, and continues to develop steadily from that time. At the time of the delivery of the child the Placenta covers nearly or quite one-third of the inner space of the distended Uterus of the mother. The total “afterbirth” consists of the Placenta, the umbillical cord, and the remaining membranes of the ovum, all of which are expelled after the birth of the child.

    The Amnion. An important appendage contained in the Uterus in connection with the developing fetus is that known as “The Amnion.” This is an inner sack which forms within the womb, and which serves to enclose the fetus, and also to sheath the umbillical cord. The Amnion encloses the embryo very snugly during the early stages of its development, but it gradually becomes distended with a pale watery fluid, known as “the amniotic fluid,” the purpose of which is to “float” the fetus and to give it mechanical support on all sides. This fluid is composed of water carrying in solution small quantities of albumin, urea, and salt.

    Sex in the Embryo and Fetus. It is impossible to determine the sex of the embryo during its early stages. During the fourth week the first traces of the sexual glands appear, but not until the fifth week can the sex be determined even by the microscope. If the embryo is to become a male, certain ducts are transformed into convoluted tubules, and each is attached to the testes which have been formed from the genital nucleus. If the embryo is to become a female, the ducts join to form the uterus and vagina, other portions being transformed into the fallopian tubes and connecting with the ovaries which have been formed otherwise. The outer genitals appear in the early stages of the embryo, but there is no apparent distinction between the sexes, the external organs being the same in all cases, and consisting of a small tubular organ with a small lateral fold of skin on either side. Later, in the male, a groove appears on the under side of this primitive organ, thus forming the urethra, the scrotum being formed from the folded skin at the side. In the female, the primitive organ ceases to develop as in the male, and thus becomes proportionately smaller, and evolves into the clitoris of the female; the two lateral folds, on each side, being transformed into the labia majora, or “outer lips” of the female external genitals.

    Position of the Fetus. During the period of gestation the fetus lies “curled up” in the bag of the amnion. The head is usually relaxed and inclined forward, the chin resting on the breast; the feet are bent up in front of the legs, the legs bent up on the thighs, the knees separated from each other, but the heels almost touching on the back of the thighs; the arms bent forward and the hands placed between them as though to receive the chin between them. The folded-up fetus forms an oval, the longest diameter of which is about eleven inches at its greatest stage of growth. Nature here shows a wonderful ability to pack the fetus into as little space as possible, and in such a position as to protect it from injury, and to discommode the mother as little as possible.

    The following interesting statement made by Helen Idleson, M. D., in a European medical journal several years ago, gives a very clear idea, expressed in popular terms, of the appearance and characteristics of the embryo or fetus in the various stages of its development:

    “The growth of the embryo after fecundation is very rapid. On the tenth day it has the appearance of a semi-transparent grayish flake. On the twelfth day it is nearly the size of a pea, filled with fluid, in the middle of which is an opaque spot, presenting the first appearance of an embryo, which may be clearly seen as an oblong or curved body, and is plainly visible to the naked eye on the fourteenth day. The twenty-first day the embryo resembles an ant or a lettuce seed. Many of its parts now begin to show themselves, especially the cartilaginous beginnings of the spinal column, the heart, etc. The thirtieth day the embryo is as large as a horse-fly, and resembles a worm, bent together. There are as yet no limbs, and the head is larger than the rest of the body. When stretched out it is nearly half an inch long. Toward the fifth week the heart increases greatly in proportion to the remainder of the body, and the rudimentary eyes are indicated by two black spots toward the sides, and the heart exhibits its external form, bearing a close resemblance to that in an adult. In the seventh week, bone begins to form in the lower jaw and clavicle. Narrow streaks on each side of the vertebral column show the beginning of the ribs. The heart is perfecting its form, the brain enlarging, and the eyes and ears growing more perfect, and the limbs sprouting from the body. The lungs are mere sacks, and the trachea is a delicate thread, but the liver is very large. In the seventh week are formed the renal capsules and kidneys.

    “At two months, the forearm and hand can be distinguished, but not the arm; the hand is larger than the forearm, but it is not supplied with fingers. The distinction of sex is yet difficult. The eyes are prominent. The nose forms an obtuse eminence. The nostrils are rounded and separated. The mouth is gaping, and the epidermis can be distinguished from the true skin. The embryo is from one-half to two inches long, the head forming more than one-third of the whole. At the end of three months, the eyelids are distinct but shut; the lips are drawn together; the forehead and nose are clearly traceable, and the organs of generation prominent. The heart beats with force; the larger vessels carry red blood; the fingers and toes are well defined, and the muscles begin to be developed.

    “At the fourth month, the embryo takes the name of ‘fetus.’ The body is six to eight inches in length. The skin has a rosy color, and the muscles produce a sensible motion. A fetus born at this time might live several hours. At five months the length of the body is from eight to ten inches. At six months, the length is twelve and one-half inches. The hair appears on the head, the eyes closed, the eyelids somewhat thicker, and their margins, as well as their eyebrows, are studded with very delicate hairs. At seven months, every part has been increased in volume and perfection; the bony system is nearly complete; length, twelve to fourteen inches. If born at this period, the fetus is able to breathe, cry and nurse, and may live if properly cared for.

    “At eight months, the fetus seems to grow rather in length than in thickness; it is only sixteen to eighteen inches long, and yet weighs from four to five pounds. The skin is very red, and covered with down and a considerable quantity of sebaceous matter. The lower jaw, which at first was very short, is now as long as the upper one. Finally, at term, nine months, the fetus is about nineteen to twenty-three inches long, and weighs from six to eight pounds. The red blood circulates in the capillaries, and the skin performs the functions of perspiration; the nails are fully developed.”

    Another writer says: “There is a superstition that a child born at eight months is not as liable to live as if born at seven months; indeed, many suppose that an eight months’ child never survives. Facts do not prove this idea to be correct. Personally, I have known several eight months’ babies to live and do well, and I believe that their chance of life is much greater than if born at seven months.”

    Children born in the seventh month of gestation are capable of living, though great care is required to rear them for the first few months after birth. The “incubators” now so common in large cities have greatly increased the chances of the “seven months’ child,” and, for that matter, of those born even earlier. There are a number of cases of record where children have been born after six months of gestation, and a few even before the six months, but these cases are rare and unusual, and such children usually die soon after birth.

    The following table, given by a good authority, shows the average length and weight of the human embryo and fetus:

    Age. Length in inches. Weight.
    2 weeks 0.1 Not given
    3 weeks 0.2 3 grains
    4 weeks 0.3 Not given
    5 weeks 0.5 Not given
    6 weeks 0.7 Not given
    7 weeks 0.9 Not given
    8 weeks 1.5 4 drachms
    3 months 3.0 2 ounces
    4 months 6.0 5 ounces
    5 months 9.0 10 ounces
    6 months 12.0 1 pound
    7 months 15.0 3 pounds
    8 months 17.0 5 pounds
    9 months 20.0 6 to 9 pounds

    Professor Clark holds that if at birth the infant weighs less than 5 pounds, it rarely thrives, though the records show that many infants weighing much less than this have lived and thrived. In very rare cases, infants have been known to weigh no more than one pound at birth, and to have still survived and thrived. And, on the other hand, many cases are known where infants were born, and thrived, who weighed more than twice the average weight. So, at the last, it is difficult to lay down hard and fast rules in the case.

    Delivery. At the termination of the period of gestation, the child is born into the world, and, instead of depending upon the blood of the mother for nourishment and oxygen, it begins to ingest its own food, to eliminate its own waste matter through the regular channels of the body, and to use its own lungs for the purpose of obtaining oxygen for its blood and to burn up the waste products in the lungs.

    The process of bringing a child into the world is called “parturition.” The fetus is expelled from the body of the mother by the contraction of the muscles of and around the Uterus, and also by the contraction of the abdominal walls. In the early stages of labor, the uterine muscles are brought into play; but when the fetus enters into the vaginal passage the abdominal muscles manifest their energy. The uterine and abdominal muscular movements are purely involuntary, although the mother may aid in the delivery by voluntary muscular movements. The involuntary muscular movements are due to the reflex action originating, probably, in a part of the spinal cord.

    The uterine contractions are rhythmical, and have been compared to the contraction of the muscles of the heart. Each “labor pain” begins with a minimum of contraction, the activity increasing until a maximum is reached, when it gradually decreases, only to be followed a little later by a new contraction. When the fetus is finally expelled from the Uterus (followed later by the placenta or “afterbirth”) that organ begins a gradual contraction to its normal size, shape, and condition, the restorative process usually lasting over several weeks.

    The Physical Signs of Pregnancy. The physical signs of pregnancy in the case of women of normal health are as follows:

    (1) Cessation of the menses, or menstruation. While it is true that a non-pregnant woman may occasionally pass over a menstrual period, yet as a general rule the complete cessation of a period by a married woman, particularly when the woman has previously been regular in this respect, may be considered a probable indication of pregnancy; and when the second period has been passed the probability merges almost into a certainty. An examination by a competent physician will set all doubts at rest.

    (2) Enlargement of the breasts. This indication usually manifests itself in about six or eight weeks after conception. This enlargement is usually preceded by a sensation of tingling and throbbing. The enlargement is manifested in the form of a rather hard and knotty increase, differing from the ordinary fatty increase; the lobules, arranged regularly around the nipple, are plainly distinguishable beneath the skin by means of the touch of the fingers.

    (3) Darkening of the areolar tissue surrounding the nipple. In the unimpregnated condition this tissue is of a pinkish shade; but after impregnation the shade grows darker and the circle increases in size. However, when the woman bears several children in somewhat rapid succession, this dark color may become permanent and accordingly ceases to be an indication.

    (4) Enlargement of the abdomen. This indication manifests itself about the second month, at which time the Uterus begins to elevate the intestines by rising up from the pelvis. In the fourth month the Uterus has risen so far out of the pelvis that it assumes the form and appearance of a hard round tumor. The entire abdomen then begins to enlarge. The Uterus causes an enlargement in the region of the navel at the sixth month, and the region of the diaphragm at the ninth month.

    (5) Quickening, or “signs of life.” This indication manifests first from the fourth month to the fifth—at about the exact half of the entire period of gestation. At this time, and afterward, the movements of the embryo are plainly discernable to the mother.

    The Disorders of Pregnancy. There are a number of physical disorders usually accompanying pregnancy, some of which are trifling, but some of which require the advice of a competent physician. The best plan is for the woman to consult a physician shortly after she discovers herself to be pregnant, and thereafter to visit him occasionally for advice during the period of gestation. The too common plan of postponing the call upon the physician until the eighth or ninth month is not a wise one, for in many cases the advice of a competent physician at an earlier stage of the pregnancy will obviate serious complications. The call upon the physician should usually be made not later than the third or fourth month, and positively not delayed longer than the fifth month. The physician should make an examination to ascertain whether the child is in the normal position in the Uterus, and should also examine the urine each month to ascertain whether the kidneys are functioning normally.

    What is called “morning sickness” is one of the most common of the disorders of pregnancy. It is marked by nausea or vomiting, or both, early in the morning, usually shortly after arising. Some women have at least faint symptoms of this disorder from the very beginning of conception, but usually it does not manifest until the third, fourth, or fifth week of pregnancy. It usually ceases at the end of the third or fourth month. Except in very severe cases, in which the physician should be consulted, the disorder is not serious, and requires but a little common-sense treatment, and rational habits of living. An authority says: “Eat of some fruit that best agrees with palate or stomach; drink hot water; eat nothing until a real hunger demands food. Where nausea occurs after eating, a tart apple or orange is good.” Another authority says: “Let women suffering from morning sickness try acid fruit—apples, oranges, or even lemons, if their sourness is not unpleasant. If a single orange or apple after each meal does not suffice, let them try two; let them eat ten if that number is necessary to conquer the distress. The principle is a correct one, and the relief certain. Let fruit be eaten at all hours of the day—before meals and after, on going to bed at night and at getting up in the morning. If berries are in season, let them be eaten in the natural state—that is, without sugar. If the sickness still continues, omit a meal now and then, and substitute fruit in its stead. By persistence in this course, not only will nausea be conquered, but an easy confinement guaranteed.”

    The pregnant woman often develops a capricious appetite. This disorder may manifest in one or more of several forms, as for instance: the woman may lose her appetite, and take but little food; or she may develop an abnormally large appetite, and eat much more than is necessary; or she may take a dislike to certain kinds of food—many women have an aversion toward meat during pregnancy; or she may have a “craving” for certain articles of food, sometimes for kinds of food not liked at other times, such as sour pickles, sour cabbage, etc. A little common sense, and the presence of attractive articles of fruits, etc., will do much to relieve these troubles; in extreme cases the physician’s advice will help.

    The pregnant woman should have her teeth put in good order as soon as possible, as troubles with teeth sometimes manifest themselves during pregnancy, and give much trouble and annoyance. Difficulty in urination, constipation, piles, irritation or itching of the genital organs, varicose veins, liver spots, and similar disorders, which are sometimes manifest during pregnancy, in some form or degree, should receive the attention and care of a competent physician.

    The following general advice from a competent authority is worthy of being followed: “If everything is satisfactory, if there is no severe vomiting, kidney trouble, etc., the usual mixed diet may continue. The only changes I would make are the following: Drink plenty of hot water during the entire time of pregnancy: a glass or two in the morning, two or three glasses in the afternoon, the same at night. From six to twelve glasses may be consumed. Also plenty of milk, buttermilk and fermented milk. Plenty of fruit and vegetables. Meat only once a day. For the tendency to constipation, whole wheat bread, rye bread, bread baked of bran, or bran with cream. As to exercise, either extreme must be avoided. Some women think that as soon as they become pregnant, they must not move a muscle; they are to be put in a glass case, and kept there until the date of delivery. Other women, on the other hand, of the ultra-modern type, indulge in strenuous exercise, and go out on long fatiguing walks up to the last day. Either extreme is injurious. The right way is moderate exercise, and short, non-fatiguing walks. Bathing may be kept up to the day of the delivery. But warm baths, particularly during the last two or three months, are preferable to cold baths.”

    Childbirth. The first indication of approaching delivery of the child is that of the descent of the child into the pelvis of the mother, from its former position up near the diaphragm. When this occurs, the mother usually experiences a feeling of relief, and a greater ease in breathing because of the relaxation of the former pressure on the diaphragm. Sometimes this occurs several days preceding delivery, while in other cases it occurs only a few hours before delivery. There usually occurs about the same time a slight discharge of mucus tinged with blood. The latter is called “the show,” and is caused by the unsealing of the mouth of the womb, and indicates that the Uterus is preparing to discharge its contents.

    Labor, in childbirth, consists of three stages. In the first stage, the Uterus alone contracts, and the mouth of the womb dilates; in the second stage, the abdominal muscles assist the Uterus in expelling the child; in the third stage, the Placenta (afterbirth) and membranes are expelled.

    After the delivery of the child, and after the pulsation in the umbillical cord has ceased (usually from ten to thirty minutes after delivery), the umbillical cord is severed and tied by the physician. In natural labor, the expulsion of the afterbirth occurs from within a few minutes to an hour after the delivery of the child. Nature is sometimes slow in expelling the afterbirth, but caution should be exercised in the matter of using force to assist Nature in this matter, for injury to the Uterus has often resulted from malpractice in such a case. The afterbirth is not firmly attached to the womb, but is like the peel of an orange which Nature sloughs off in due time.

    PRIVATE Sex Advice to Women By R. B. Armitage, M. D.

    For Young Wives and those who Expect to be Married.

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  • PHYSIOLOGY OF THE FEMALE SEX ORGANISM

    PHYSIOLOGY OF THE FEMALE SEX ORGANISM

    In the preceding lesson you have been shown “just what” each one of the sex organs of the woman is. In the present lesson you will be shown “just what” each of these organs does—what its functions and offices are. The preceding lesson dealt with the anatomy of these organs; the present lesson will deal with the physiology thereof.

    Beginning with the Ovaries, the fundamental and basic sex organs of the woman, you will have explained to you the wonderful processes performed by each of these organs in turn.

    The Ovaries. The Ovaries in the woman are akin to the testicles in the man. Without the Ovaries there would be no ova or eggs, and without the ova there would be possible no reproductive purposes, and therefore no office for the sex organs at all, for reproduction is the fundamental office, function, and purpose of the entire sexual organism.

    In our consideration of the office, purposes, and functions of the Ovaries, however, we must not overlook a certain secondary phase of such functioning. While it is true that the primary purpose of both the testicles of the male, and the Ovaries of the female, is that of providing seed from which the offspring of the individual may be produced, it is likewise true that there exists a secondary purpose which may be called the “individual” purpose as contrasted with the “racial” and primary one.

    This secondary or “individual” purpose of the Ovaries is that of manufacturing certain secretions which are absorbed by the blood of the woman, and which play an important part in her physical and mental well-being and activities. These secretions begin before puberty in the woman, and continue after her menopause; whereas the manufacture of the ova begins only at puberty, and ceases with the menopause, keeping pace with the manifestation of menstruation in its beginning and its ending.

    Nature provides these chemical secretions from the Ovaries for the purpose of giving the woman her characteristic physical form and contour, her form, her breasts, her long hair, her broad pelvis, her soft voice, and other secondary sex characteristics; and also of providing for the normal development of the other sex organs. As a proof of this statement, science shows us that if a woman’s ovaries are completely removed there is usually a consequent atrophy or “drying up” of the Uterus and the Vagina, and often even of the Vulva. Moreover, the presence of this internal secretion manifests in arousing and maintaining in the woman her normal sexual desire, and her normal pleasure in the company of her mate; it being noted that if the ovaries are removed, particularly in early life, the woman is apt to lose all sexual desire and normal womanly feeling toward the other sex. And, finally, these secretions make for general physical and mental health and well-being in the woman, and contribute to her vivacity, energy, and activity in all directions. As writers on the subject have well pointed out, this is the reason that capable surgeons usually try to leave at least a portion of the Ovaries when performing an operation for the removal of those organs on account of diseased condition.

    The Ovum. The Ovum, or human egg, is a small spherical body, measuring from one two-hundred-and-fortieth to one one-hundred-and-twentieth of an inch in diameter. It has a colorless transparent envelope, the latter enclosing the yolk which consists of granules or globules of various sizes embedded in a viscid fluid. In the center of the yolk is found a very small vesicular body consisting of a tenuous transparent membrane, which is known as “the germinal vesicle;” this, in turn, contains a very tiny granular structure, opaque, of yellow color, known as “the germinal spot.”

    When the time is reached in which the ovum or egg is to be discharged, the Graafian follicle becomes enlarged by reason of the accumulation of the fluids in its interior, and exerts such a steady and increasing pressure from within, outward, that the surrounding tissue yields to it, and it finally protrudes from the Ovary, from whence it is then expelled with a gush, owing to the elasticity and reaction of the neighboring tissues.

    Following this rupture there occurs an abundant hemorrhage from the vesicles of the follicle, the cavity being filled with blood, which then coagulates and is retained in the Graafian follicle. The formation and development of the Graafian follicle begins at puberty and continues until the menopause or “change of life” of the woman. Many follicles are produced, but many do not produce ova, and so gradually atrophy. The ripening and discharge of the eggs produce a peculiar condition of congestion of the entire female sexual organism, including the Fallopian Tubes, the Uterus, the Vagina, and even of the Vulva, which results in a condition of Sexual Excitement. Among the lower animals the female will allow the male to approach her for copulation only at this period, this being the time when the egg is ready for fertilization.

    When the female infant is born, her Ovaries contain the germs of about 100,000 ova. The greater portion of these, however, disappear, until at the time of her puberty the number of germs of ova contains only about 30,000 ova. This number is far more than the woman will ever need, and is Nature’s provision against diseased portions of the Ovaries, accidents, etc. Only one ovum ripens and matures each month from puberty until menopause, so that the woman really requires only about 300 to 350 ova on the average. This liberality on the part of Nature, however, does not begin to approach her lavishness in the case of seed of the male, for in his case while only one spermatozoon is required to fertilize an ovum (and in fact only one is permitted to do so), we find that in each normal act of ejaculation of semen by the male over 250,000 spermatozoa are projected.

    The ripening and discharge of the egg from the Ovaries, and the consequent congestion above referred to, accompanied by what is called Menstruation, occurs regularly each lunar month (28 days). What is called Ovulation consists of the monthly maturing and expulsion of the ripe ovum or egg, while Menstruation (as we shall see later on) consists of the monthly discharge of blood and mucus from the inner surface of the Uterus; the two processes occur in connection with each other, yet neither can be considered as the cause of the other.

    Menstruation. It may be well to call your attention at this point to the process known as Menstruation, or “the monthly flow,” or “the courses” of women. Menstruation is the monthly flow of bloody fluid which occurs in all healthy (non-pregnant) women from puberty to the menopause or “change of life.”

    By “Puberty” is meant the age at which a woman begins her period of possible child-bearing experience. In temperate climates the average age of puberty is about fourteen years, while in tropical countries it is often a year or so earlier, and in arctic countries a year or so later. The time, however, depends materially upon the temperament, race, hygiene, and general environment of the individual girl. At this period the girl gradually changes into the young woman. Her figure changes, her bust develops, her hips broaden, and her mental and emotional nature undergoes a change. Also the menstrual flow begins to manifest at this time; at first scanty and irregular, but gradually changing into the characteristic flow each month.

    At the period of puberty, the girl undergoes marked emotional changes. She becomes very “emotional” as a rule, and quite “sensitive.” She becomes filled with strange, unaccountable longings, ideas, and “notions.” She usually manifests a great emotional interest in her girl friends, and often manifests marked jealousy in connection with these friendships. The girl is apt to indulge in day-dreaming at this period, and becomes quite romantic and “flighty.” She devours love stories, and delights in imagining herself as the heroine of similar adventures. The period from the beginning of puberty to that of the attainment of full sexual maturity is known as the period of “adolescence,” and generally extends to about the age of eighteen in the case of girls.

    By the Menopause is meant that period of the woman’s “change of life,” the average time of which is about the age of forty-five years, although this varies greatly in different individuals. As a rule, it is held that the period of the woman’s child-bearing possibility extends over an average period of thirty years. At the Menopause the woman’s reproductive activity declines and finally ends. The Ovaries diminish in size, the Graafian follicles cease to form and develop; the Fallopian Tubes atrophy; and there occur other physical, mental, and emotional changes in the woman. While the age of forty-five is held to be the average age at which the Menopause occurs in women, still it is not at all uncommon to find women who menstruate regularly up to the age of fifty, or fifty-two, or even fifty-five, while a large number of women menstruate regularly at the age of forty-eight.

    Some women undergo little or no physical or emotional disturbance at the time of the Menopause. In such cases their periods become more or less irregular, with extending intervals between periods; the flow becomes more and more scanty; then several periods are skipped altogether; and finally the periods cease entirely. Other women, however, experience more or less physical disturbance during the years of the “change.” They sometimes experience loss of appetite, or a capricious appetite, headaches, loss of weight, or else a sudden taking on of fatty tissue. They often become quite irritable and “notiony,” and often become quarrelsome and pugnacious, and in some cases manifest unreasonable jealousy. But, in the opinion of many of the best authorities, much of this trouble comes from the mental expectancy of them by the woman, resulting from the notion that a woman must have these things happen to her. The power of the mind over the body is now well known, and we have here another instance of its effect. The remedy is obvious.

    Another matter which disturbs the woman at this time, in many cases, is the common belief that after “the change” she will lose all of her sex attractiveness, and her sexual feelings, etc. This is a grave error, for the experience of all observing physicians is that no such results follow this period of the woman’s life. Many women become even more attractive to the other sex after this time, by reason of acquiring a certain maturity and “ripeness” which proves very attractive to many men—often to young men as well as older ones. Moreover, the sexual desires do not cease with the cessation of the reproductive functions. On the contrary, it often happens that such emotions and desires are increased in the woman at, and after, this time of her life. So true is this that this period has been called “The Dangerous Age” for women, and the experience of many a woman of forty-five to fifty will corroborate this statement. The woman at this time should beware of contracting unwise love affairs and entanglements, and of yielding to impulses toward men other than her mate. A word to the wise should be sufficient in this case.

    To return to the main subject of Menstruation, it may be said that the monthly flow, when once established, occurs at intervals of every twenty-eight days, on the average, although in some individual cases it occurs as often as every twenty-one days, while in others it occurs as seldom as once in every six weeks, all without exceeding the bounds of normal functioning. Menstruation ceases temporarily during pregnancy, in normal cases, and often also ceases during the period of lactation or nursing. The menstrual period lasts on an average for four or five days, the flow increasing for the first half of the period, and decreasing during the last half. At the beginning of the period there is often manifested a general congestion of all of the sexual organs of the woman, and often of the breasts as well. There is also usually found a sense of physical discomfort, from which more or less irritable feeling arises. In rare cases there are found severe cramps and pains, and in some cases the woman finds it necessary to call in medical aid, or to go to bed, or both. In such cases a cure is often worked by improving the general health, and by observing common sense hygienic rules.

    Menstruation is caused by a hypertrophy of the mucus membrane of inner surface of the Uterus, which is followed by a shedding of the hypertrophied membrane. This leaves exposed the underlying vessels, which bleed. New mucus membrane is formed after the period. The menstrual flow consists of a thin, bloody fluid, having peculiar odor, in which is combined blood, thin skin, and mucus membrane, and also mucus from the Uterus and the Vagina, the blood being light in consistency and not clotted.

    During the menstrual period the ovum, or egg, is discharged, and enters the Uterus, as we shall see presently.

    The Life-History of the Ovum. The physiology of the remaining sexual organs of the woman may perhaps best be studied by considering the story of the Life-History of the Ovum, or human egg, for the functions of such organs are concerned with such life-history of the egg, and really exist merely to create such a history, or rather, to produce the process which constitutes the basis of such history.

    The ovum, or egg, when discharged from the ovary, is at first surrounded by a few cells which serve as nourishment, but which soon disappear. It enters the Fallopian Tube and begins its journey toward the Uterus, being urged on its way by the constant movement of the lining-cells of the interior of the tube, in the direction of the Uterus. Certain changes in structure occur. Its passage to the Uterus may be interrupted, and the ovum lost and finally cast off. But the ovum that is successful finally arrives at the Uterus where it awaits impregnation or fertilization by the spermatozoon of the male.

    If copulation occurs within a reasonable time after the arrival of the ovum, it is impregnated or fertilized. Fecundation results and conception ensues, the ovum then remaining attached to the walls of the Uterus, and in time develops into the foetus. If, however, the ovum is not impregnated, because of absence of copulation or from other causes, it gradually loses its vitality, and is finally cast off with the several uterine secretions.

    It should be explained here that the “spermatozoon” of the male (the plural of the term is “spermatozoa”) is the male generative “seed.” The sperum, semen, or seminal fluid of the male is filled with hundreds of thousands of spermatozoa. Each spermatozoon is a minute living, moving creature, resembling a microscopic tadpole. It has a head, a rod-like body, and a thin hair-like tail, the latter being kept in constant motion from side to side, by means of which the tiny creature is enabled to travel rapidly from one point to another. The human spermatozoon measures about one six-hundredth of an inch in length. It is composed of protoplasm, the substance of which all living creatures are composed. The spermatozoa are believed to be developed from a parent sperm-cell, by the process of segmentation or subdivision, which process is common to all cell-life. The numerous spermatozoa dwell in a gelatinous substance, which, mingling with the other fluidic secretions of the glands of the male, constitutes the male seminal fluid, sperm, or semen, which is ejaculated by the male during the process of copulation.

    Fecundation (i. e. fertilization, impregnation; the process by which the male reproductive element is brought in contact with the female ovum or egg) is brought about by the blending of the male reproductive element (or spermatozoon) with the female reproductive element (or ovum, or egg). This blending is of course accomplished by the bringing together in mutual contact the two reproductive elements just mentioned. The sexual act which results in this “bringing together” of the two elements is known as “copulation,” or “coition.” In copulation or coition the seminal fluid of the male, containing an enormous number of spermatozoa, is ejaculated from the male intromittent organ into the receptive canal or channel of the female (the Vagina), and in this way finally comes into actual contact with the female ovum or egg which is awaiting it in the Uterus of the female.

    The spermatozoa (in the process of copulation) are deposited in the Vagina of the female, usually at its upper end, but sometimes in the lower portion; and in rare andpeculiar cases even at or about the Vaginal Orifice or outer vaginal opening. In either case they travel up the remaining portion of the Vagina and finally enter the Uterus or womb. The spermatozoa possess wonderful vitality and power of locomotion. There are cases recorded in which the spermatozoa deposited on or about the outer female genitals have managed to travel inward and upward until they have finally reached the Uterus, where conception has resulted. Such cases, of course, are rare, but they exist, well authenticated and accepted by medical science as facts.

    It must not be supposed, however, that the impregnation of the ovum occurs only in the womb proper. Cases are known in which the spermatozoa have traveled along the Fallopian Tubes and impregnated the ovum there; and in very rare cases the spermatozoon seems to have penetrated even to the Ovary itself, and there impregnated the ovum on the surface of the Ovary. Some excellent authorities, in fact, insist that all normal impregnation occurs at the end of the Fallopian Tube—the point of its entrance into the upper part of the womb, rather than in the body of the womb, or at its mouth, as the older authorities taught. But wherever the actual contact of spermatozoon and ovum occurs, the blending of the elements is performed and fertilization, impregnation, or fecundation is accomplished.

    As a result of copulation, then, the spermatozoon (or a number of spermatozoa) comes in contact with the female ovum or egg. Then one or more of them, by means of a furious lashing of the tiny tail, manages to penetrate the outer covering of the ovum, and enters the space between the outer covering and the real body of the egg. Several spermatozoa may effect an entrance into this outer space, but only one is permitted to enter the real body of the egg. [Twins are produced by the impregnation of two ova by two spermatozoa, at the same time. The presence of the two ova at the same time is unusual]. The moment that the real body of the ovum is penetrated by the successful spermatozoon, a tough covering or thick membrane forms around the ovum and thus prevents the entrance of other spermatozoa. The successful spermatozoon then loses its tail, and the remaining head and body become what is known as “the male pronucleus.”

    The authorities are uncertain as to the exact nature of the change which occurs when the ovum is penetrated by the spermatozoon. The outward manifestations of the change and transformation arising from the blending of the male and female elements are of course well known, but the “life process” eludes the power of the microscope. When Nature forms the thick membranous coating over the impregnated ovum, she draws the veil over one of her most important secrets. The first segmentation-nucleus having been formed by the blending and forging together of the male and female pronuclei, the process of segmentation begins.

    Segmentation proceeds as follows: the impregnated egg splits into halves, forming two joined cells; then into quarters, forming four joined cells; then into sixteenths, then into thirty-seconds, sixty-fourths, and so on, until the ovum consists of a combined mass of very minute granular-like cells, the whole resembling a mulberry. The segmentation of the nucleus precedes and then continues with the segmentation of the yolk. After the egg has been divided into a great number of these cells, the latter begin a centrifugal action resulting in the formation of a complete inner lining of closely packed cells, with a central cavity filled with the yolk liquid.

    In the meantime, the Uterus has been prepared for the reception of the impregnated and transformed ovum. A thick, spongy, juicy, mucus membrane forms, into whichthe changing ovum passes and attaches itself; the mucus membrane soon enveloping it and shutting it off from the rest of the Uterus. There now appears at one point on the ovum an opaque streak, which is called “the primitive trace” of the embryo—the first beginning of the young living creature. The “primitive trace” then grows in length and breadth. At this point we must leave the history of the ovum, or human egg, for the present; its further development will be related in the succeeding lesson, the subject of which is “Gestation.”

    PRIVATE Sex Advice to Women By R. B. Armitage, M. D.

    For Young Wives and those who Expect to be Married.

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  • ANATOMY OF THE FEMALE SEX ORGANISM

    ANATOMY OF THE FEMALE SEX ORGANISM

    Every woman should be given plain, practical, sane, sensible instruction concerning the sex organism of woman, its functions, its laws, its use, and its abuse. This important feature of the physical organism plays an all powerful part in the life of every woman, and particularly in the life of the married woman. It is nature’s mechanism for the reproduction of the race. Every child that is born into the world is conceived, gestated, and finally delivered as a result of the functioning of this organism. Therefore, such instruction and knowledge is vitally necessary, not only for the intelligent performance of the duties of parenthood, but also for the best interests of race-preservation, race-culture, and the physical well-being and health of the individual woman.

    And yet, custom and ancient prejudice have drawn the veil over this most important subject, so that it is difficult for the average woman to find practical, clean information concerning her own anatomy and physiological functions concerned with her sex-life. To many it has appeared that the particular organs and parts of the body concerned with the reproductive functions of the woman are base, unclean, and impure, and that any woman discussing them, or seeking information regarding them, must be immoral or at least not “respectable.” Anatomical charts and physiological treatises on the subject are tabooed outside of the doctor’s office. Women are considered immodest if they seek to acquaint themselves with the facts of life concerning one of their most important classes of physical functions. It is considered “not nice” for a young woman to know anything about her physical being in those phases which play the most important part in her life. Can there be anything more ridiculous and insane? This is a matter which excites the most intense surprise, disgust, and despair in the average person possessing a scientific tendency. But the dawn is breaking, and a better day is ahead of the race concerning these things.

    The sex organs of the woman are divided into two classes, as follows: (1) The external organs; and (2) the internal organs. Let us consider each of these classes in turn.

    THE EXTERNAL SEX ORGANS OF THE WOMAN.

    The external sex organs of the woman are as follows: The Mons Veneris; the Labia Majora; the Labia Minora; the Clitoris; the Meatus Urinarius; and the Vaginal Orifice. The term “the Vulva” is applied to the external sex organs of the woman in general, but more particularly to the Labia Majora and the Labia Minora (the larger and smaller “lips,” respectively). The term “Vulva” is the Latin term meaning “folding doors.”

    The Mons Veneris is the fatty eminence or elevation just above the other external organs, which forms a mount from which its name (literally, “The Mount of Venus”) is derived. At puberty it becomes covered with hair.

    The Labia Majora are the large “outer lips” or folds of skin which enclose the Vaginal Orifice, and which are situated just below the Mons Veneris.

    The Labia Minora are the small “inner lips” of folds of membrane, which are concealed within the Labia Majora, or “outer lips,” and are seen only when the latter are parted.

    The Clitoris is a small organ, about an inch in length, situated at the upper part of the Labia Minora or “inner lips,” and usually being partly or wholly covered by the upper borders thereof. At its extremity it has a small rounded enlargement which is extremely sensitive and excitable, and which is the principal seat of sensation in the woman’s sexual organism.

    The Meatus Urinarius is the orifice of the urethra of the woman, the purpose of which is to afford an exit for the urine. It is located about an inch below the Clitoris and is just above the Vaginal Orifice. It is a common error among uninformed women that the urine passes out through the Vagina; but this, of course, is incorrect, as the two canals and their respective orifices are entirely separate from each other, though situated closely together.

    The Vaginal Orifice is the outer entrance to the Vagina, or Vaginal Canal or Channel. This orifice is located just below the Meatus Urinarius. In the virgin it is usually partly closed by what is known as “The Hymen,” (vulgarly known as the “maiden head”), although in many cases the latter is absent even in the case of young girl infants. It was formerly regarded as an infallible sign of virginity, and its absence was regarded as a proof that virginity was lacking. But this old superstition is passing away, for science has shown that the Hymen is often absent even in the case of young children and infants, and, on the other hand, is sometimes present after several years of married life, and even during pregnancy. Much unhappiness has been caused in some cases where the husband has doubted the virginity of his wife because of the absence of the Hymen, but consultation with a capable physician usually removes this misunderstanding.

    The Hymen is a membranous fold, sometimes circular in shape, with an opening in the center, though in other cases it extends only across the lower part of the orifice. The opening in the center is for the purpose of allowing the menstrual blood and the other secretions of Uterus and Vagina to flow through. In a few cases this opening is absent, the Hymen being what is called “imperforate”; in which case the girl experiences difficulty when menstruation begins, and a physician is required to make a slit or opening in it. In some girls and women the Hymen is quite tough, while in others it is very thin and is easily broken. In the latter cases the young girl frequently breaks the membrane during vigorous exercise, such as jumping rope, etc. And, as has before been said, in some cases infant girls are born without even a trace of the Hymen. Under the circumstances, it is seen that the presence or absence of the Hymen is far from being an infallible proof of the presence or absence of virginity, and the belief in the same is now regarded as almost a superstition of the past.

    THE INTERNAL SEX ORGANS OF THE WOMAN.

    The internal sex organs of the woman are as follows: The Vagina; the Uterus and its appendages; the Fallopian Tubes; the Ovaries, and their ligaments, and the round ligaments.

    The Vagina is the canal or channel leading from the Vaginal Orifice to the Uterus or womb. It is situated in front of the rectum, and behind the bladder. In length, it averages from three to five inches; and it curves upward and backward, reaching to the lower part of the neck of the womb, or Uterus, which part of the neck is enclosed by it. It is a strong fibro-muscular structure, lined with mucous membrane; and is not smooth inside, but is arranged in inner folds or rings which are capable of great extension.

    On either side of the Vagina, near the outer orifice, are two small glands, about the size of a pea, which secrete a peculiar fluid, and which are known as the Glands of Bartholine. The office of the Vagina is that of a complementary to the male organ during the copulative process; to also sustain the weight of the Uterus; to also afford a passage for the infant at the time of its birth; and also to serve as a passage for the menstrual fluid.

    The Uterus, or Womb, is the internal sex organ of the woman which serves to hold the fertilized ovum, or egg, from the time of impregnation, during the period of pregnancy during which the ovum develops into the young child, and until the time of the delivery of the child.

    The Uterus is a hollow pear-shaped muscular organ, about three inches in length, nearly an inch thick, and about two inches broad across its upper part, or fundus; the lower part, or cervix, being much narrower. The cervix, or “neck” of the womb, projects into the Vagina, forming the “os uteri,” or “mouth of the womb,” at that point. The Uterus is composed chiefly of a muscular coat, its walls consisting of strong muscular fibres which contract independently of the will, as do similar muscles in the stomach and bladder. These muscular walls are capable of enormous distention during pregnancy. The muscles of the healthy womb are capable of a tremendous pressure and resistance, and are capable of expelling the child with but slight labor at the time of delivery.

    The Uterus is located just behind and slightly above the bladder, and is supported by eight ligaments which, in a healthy condition, hold it firmly and easily in place. Displacements of the Uterus are due to the weakening or relaxing of some or all of these ligaments, generally caused by general weakness or else by excessive physical exercise or labor. The principal Displacements of the Uterus are as follows: Prolapsus, or lowering of the womb in the vagina; Antroversion, or the bending forward of the womb; Anteflexion, or the “doubling up” of the womb forward on itself; Retroversion, or the bending backward of the womb; and Retroflexion, or the “doubling up” of the womb backward on itself. Extreme degrees of the last four mentioned forms of displacement often interfere with impregnation.

    The internal surface of the Uterus is lined with mucous membrane thickly studded with minute hairlike cells which manifest continuous motion. This motion, in the lower part of the womb, is in the direction of the fundus or upper part of the womb; in the upper part of the womb, the motion is in the opposite direction; the purpose of these opposing movements being to carry the male elements toward that portion of the womb into which the Fallopian Tubes discharge the products of the Ovaries, as we shall see presently.

    The Uterus is supplied with follicles around its neck which secrete a very firm, adhesive mucus substance, which serves as a gate or door across the mouth of the womb during the period of pregnancy, and which also serves to prevent the accidental displacement of the ovum or egg. During and just after menstruation, the Uterus becomes enlarged and more vascular. During pregnancy, it largely increases in weight. After delivery, it resumes its normal size, but the cavity is larger than before conception. In old age, it becomes atrophied and denser in structure.

    The Fallopian Tubes are the ducts of the Ovaries, and serve to convey the ova, or eggs, from the Ovaries to the cavity in the Uterus. They are two in number, one on each side, each tube being about four inches in length. They extend from either side of the fundus of the womb, through the broad ligaments which hold them and the Ovaries in position until they communicate with the Ovaries. They are lined with a membrane composed of the same kind of peculiar hair-like cells which are found in the lining of the womb, the purpose in this case being to urge forward the ova or eggs toward the Uterus.

    At the ovarian end of the tubes the latter expand into a fringed, trumpet-shaped extremity, the fringe being known as “the fimbria.” The tubes are only about one-sixteenth of an inch in diameter, and their small caliber makes it easy for them to clog up as the result of slight inflammation, or to become clogged up or sealed at their mouths or openings, thus causing sterility or inability of the woman to conceive. If the tubes are clogged, or sealed up, it of course is impossible for the ova or eggs to reach the uterus.

    The Ovaries are the two oval-shaped bodies lying one on either side of the Uterus. In them the ova, or eggs, are formed. They are each about one and one-half inches long, about one inch wide, and about one-half an inch thick. In addition to their attachment to the broad ligament, they are held in position by folds or ligaments running to the fundus of the Uterus and to the fimbriated extremities of the Fallopian Tubes. The Ovaries are covered by a dense, firm coating which encloses a soft fibrous tissue, abundantly supplied with blood-vessels, which is called the stroma. Imbedded in the mesh-like tissue of the stroma are found numerous small, round, transparent vesicles, in various stages of development, known as the Graafian follicles, which are lined with a layer of peculiar granular cells. These Graafian follicles are the receptacles or sacs which contain the ova, or eggs, which constitute the female reproductive germ. Each vesicle contains a single ovum or egg.

    Summary.

    From the foregoing, it is seen that we may enumerate the sex organs of the woman as follows, proceeding from the external to the internal organism: First, the Mons Veneris, or prominent eminence above the more important external sex organs; then the Labia Majora, or large outer “lips” or folds, which are plainly discernable to the ordinary view; then the Labia Minora, or smaller inner “lips” or folds, and the Clitoris or small sensitive organ, and the Meatus Urinarius or urinary orifice, all of which are discernable only when the folds of the Labia Majora are parted or opened. Then, proceeding upward and backward from the Vaginal Orifice, we find the Vagina, or channel or canal leading to the Uterus or Womb; then we find the Uterus or Womb at the upper end of the canal or channel of the Vagina. Then extending from either side of the Uterus or Womb we find those two important sets of organs known as the Fallopian Tubes, and the Ovaries, respectively. The Ovaries discharge their ova, or eggs, into the Fallopian Tubes, from whence they are conveyed to the Uterus or Womb, with which the tubes are connected and into which they open at its upper and large end.

    The Pelvis is that bony arch in the cavity of which are contained the internal sex organs of the woman. The Pelvis is a bony basin which holds and supports the pelvic organs, and is composed of three important parts, as follows: (1) The Sacrum, consisting of five sections of the vertebral column, or spine, fused together so as to constitute the solid part of the lower spine and the back of the Pelvis; (2) the two Hip-Bones, one on each side of the Pelvis; (3) the Pubic Arch, or the front part of the Pelvis, formed by the junction of the two Hip-Bones in front. Attached to the Hip-Bones are the thighs, and also the large Gluteal Muscles which constitute the buttocks, or “seat.”

    The Pelvis of the woman is quite different from that of the man. It is shallower and wider, and lighter in structure than that of the male, and the margins of the Hip-Bones are more widely separated, thus making the hips of the woman far more prominent than those of the man. Also, the Sacrum is shorter than that of the man, and the Pubic Arch wider and more rounded than his. This difference in the bony structure is made necessary by the demand for larger space in the female Pelvis required for the purposes of childbirth. These differences are not so perceptible in childhood, but become marked and pronounced at puberty.

    PRIVATE Sex Advice to Women By R. B. Armitage, M. D.

    For Young Wives and those who Expect to be Married.

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  • Monkeys made their way from Africa to South America at least twice

    Monkeys made their way from Africa to South America at least twice

    Two lineages of ancient monkey migrated from Africa to South America more than 30 million years ago. But we’re not sure which ones got there first
    Monkeys made their way from Africa to South America at least twice
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    https://www.newscientist.com/article/2240325-monkeys-made-their-way-from-africa-to-south-america-at-least-twice/?utm_campaign=RSS%7CNSNS&utm_source=NSNS&utm_medium=RSS&utm_content=home

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  • Search Engine Optimization and Pay-Per-Click: A Holistic Approach

    Far too often, online marketers separate natural search engine optimization practices from pay-per-click (also known as PPC or paid search).

    Clearly, they both involve very distinct disciplines, but they may have a common landing page or potentially keyword and traffic data that can be shared to make initiatives more powerful and efficient.

    In this guide, we?ll take a look at how the two facets of search engine marketing can work together. In addition, we?ll provide insights about how to make the most of SEO and PPC in their own right.

    Paid search involves the sponsored listings at the top and to the right of the natural results that dominate the top search engine results pages (also known as SERPs).

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    http://www.associationofmarketing.org/whitepapers/view.php?whitepaper_id=69

    Views: 0

  • Living with pets during MCO

    Living with pets during MCO

    Living with pets during MCO 1

    KUALA LUMPUR: Working from home (WFH) is not as easy as many people think, especially when you have young children and pets.

    Yes, even pets. To others, it might seem easy having pets in the house. After all, don’t you just let them be and you do not have to give much attention to them?

    In reality however, looking after pets is just as much a responsibility as looking after young children. A look at the postings on Facebook and Twitter will show that many see the responsibility as similar, for to them, pets are as much a member of the family as children.

    Going into 24 days of the Movement Control Order (MCO) period, which means 24 days of WFH, the stories on the social media abound of the struggles that pet owners, especially those with cats, face juggling the responsibilities of work and looking after their pets.

    Interior decorate Intan Suhaiza Razak, 35, found that there were many secrets her cats kept from her which she only found out after she started to work from home from March 18.

    “It is only now that I am really getting to know my three cats. I did not spend much time with them before but now that I am with them all day, I am slowly learning their behaviour.

    “For instance, I was shocked to find out that they could turn the tap in the kitchen sink and would play with the water,” she told Bernama.

    Auditor Amirul Iqbal Razali, 30, has found that working from home can be quite challenging when you have cats.

    “I have three, and the minute I turn on the computer, they come around demanding my attention.

    “That would be the time they want to sit on my lap and play, and ask for food, even though I had prepared everything for them. And my work-station has become their bed,” he said.

    Media practitioner Muhamad Saufee Rosman thinks his cat Ethan loves the fact that he and his housemates now have to work from home during the MCO period.

    “He is extra demanding now, maybe because he enjoys the fact that we are home now, whereas previously, he was always left alone in the house. Now, he keeps snuggling up to us all the time,” he said.

    Muhamad Saufee and his housemates do not find Ethan’s demand for attention troublesome, and in fact, he is a stress-buster to them.

    “Life is less boring with him around. Sometimes, he does get in the way, but it would be lonely without him,” he said.

    To these animal-lovers, the Health Ministry’s announcement that pets do not carry the COVID-19 virus was good news.

    “In the beginning, it was a bit worrying, so it was a relief when the ministry said that pet-owners did not have to worry and do not have to take their pets for Covid-19 screenings.

    Nurana Mukhriz, 29, who works in information technology said she cannot imagine being separated from her two cats which she had bred since five years ago.

    “I live alone, so my cats ‘Adik’ and ‘Che Yam’ are my companions. Talking to them reduces my stress level and I don’t feel so lonely during the MCO period,” she said. – Bernama

    Living with pets during MCO
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    https://www.thesundaily.my/local/living-with-pets-during-mco-EF2241413

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  • Moneylenders, pawnbrokers agree to 3-month moratorium: Zuraida

    Moneylenders, pawnbrokers agree to 3-month moratorium: Zuraida

    Moneylenders, pawnbrokers agree to 3-month moratorium: Zuraida 2

    PUTRAJAYA: The Licensed Money Lenders Association or the Credit Community, as well as the pawnbrokers association have agreed to a three-month moratorium to ease the burden on borrowers, according to Housing and Local Government Minister Zuraida Kamaruddin.

    Licensed moneylenders registered with the ministry, meanwhile, had agreed not to impose late charges throughout the Movement Control Order (MCO), she said in a statement today.

    She said the matter was agreed after discussions with the respective associations following the announcement of additional measures under the Prihatin Rakyat economic stimulus package on April 6.

    In the announcement, Prime Minister Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin called on licensed moneylenders registered under the Moneylenders Act 1951 that provide credit facilities to impose a six-month moratorium on loans for SMEs beginning April 2020, similar to that provided by banks in the country.

    “The Credit Community is also advised not to charge interest rates in excess of what is stipulated under the Moneylenders Act 1951 (Act 400), namely 12% for secured loans and 18% for unsecured loans during the MCO period,“ he said.

    Zuraida announced the matter after the daily press conference by Senior Minister (Security Cluster) Datuk Seri Ismail Sabri Yaakob, following the Special Ministerial Committee meeting on the MCO here.

    Zuraida said the government had also agreed that the premises of companies from the credit community or pawnbrokers be allowed to operate for two days a week.

    The operating hours would be limited from 9am to 2pm to allow SMEs to carry out their transactions.

    According to Zuraida, her ministry had received many inquiries from the public about the services of the credit community and pawnbrokers via its hotline during the MCO.

    Zuraida said the companies would have to comply all with the directives and regulations under the Prevention and Control of Infectious Diseases Act 1988 (Act 342), including maintaining a social distance of at least one metre, wearing a three-ply face mask, and providing hand sanitiser to customers.

    They should also regularly carry out the disinfection process at their premises, she said.

    Members of the public and SMEs involved can obtain further information on the ministry’s services via its hotline at 03-8891 3975. – Bernama

    Moneylenders, pawnbrokers agree to 3-month moratorium: Zuraida
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  • Glossary of Youth: Its Education, Regimen, and Hygiene, by G. Stanley Hall

    Glossary of Youth: Its Education, Regimen, and Hygiene, by G. Stanley Hall

    GLOSSARY

    AGAMIC. Unmarried; unmarriageable, sometimes non-sexed.

    AGENIC. Lacking in reproductive power; sterile.

    AMPHIMIXIS. That form of reproduction which involves the mingling of substance from two individuals so as to effect a mixture of hereditary characteristics. It includes the phenomena of conjugation and fertilization among both unicellular and multicellular organisms.

    ANABOLISM. See METABOLISM.

    ANAMNESIC. Pertaining to or aiding recollection.

    ANEMIC. Deficient in blood; bloodless.

    ANTHROPOMORPHISM. The attributing of human characteristics to natural, supernatural, or divine beings.

    ANTHROPOMETRY. Science of measurement of the human body.

    ARTIFACT. Any artificial product.

    APHASIA. Impairment or lose of the ability to understand or use speech.

    ASSOCIATIONISM. The psychological theory which regards the laws of association as the fundamental laws of mental action and development.

    ATAVISTIC. Pertaining to reversion through the influence of heredity to remote ancestral characteristics.

    ATAXIC. Pertaining to inability to coördinate voluntary movements; irregular.

    CALAMO-PAPYRUS. Reed papyrus or pen-paper.

    CATABOLISM. See METABOLISM.

    CATHARSIS. Purgation or cleansing. Aristotle’s esthetic theory that little renders immune for much.

    CEREBRATION. Brain action, conscious or unconscious.

    CHOREA. St. Vitus’s dance; a nervous disease marked by irregular and involuntary movements of the limbs and face.

    CHRESTOMATHY. A collection of extracts and choice pieces.

    CHRISTENTHUM. The Christian belief; the spirit of Christianity.

    COMMANDO EXERCISES. Gymnastic exercises whose order is dependent upon the spoken command of the director.

    CORTEX. The gray matter of the brain, mostly on its surface.

    CORTICAL. Pertaining to the cortex.

    CRANIOMETRY. The measurement of skulls.

    CRYPTOGAMOUS. Having an obscure mode of fertilization; or, of plants that do not blossom.

    CULTUS. A system of religious belief and worship.

    DEUTSCHENTHUM. The spirit of the German people.

    DIATHESIS. A constitutional predisposition.

    EPHEBIC. Pertaining to the Greek system of instruction given to young men to fit them for citizenship; adolescent.

    EPIGONI. Successors; followers who only follow.

    EPISTEMOLOGY. The theory of knowledge; that branch of logic which undertakes to explain how knowledge is possible and to define its limitations, meaning, and worth.

    EUPEPTIC. Having good digestion.

    EUPHORIA. The sense of well-being; of fullness of life.

    EVIRATION. Emasculation; loss of manly characteristics.

    FERAL. Wild by nature; untamed; undomesticated.

    FORMICARY. An artificial ants’ nest.

    GEMÜTH. Disposition; the entire affective soul and its habitual state.

    HEBETUDE. Dullness; stupidity.

    HEDONISTIC. Relating to hedonism, that form of Greek philosophy which taught that pleasure is the chief end of existence.

    HETAERA. A Greek courtesan. This class was often highly trained in music and social art, and represented the highest grade of culture among Greek women.

    HETEROGENY. (1) The spontaneous generation of animals and vegetables, low in the scale of organization, from inorganic elements. (2) That kind of generation in which the parent, whether plant or animal, produces offspring differing in structure or habit from itself, but in which after one or more generations the original form reappears.

    HETERONOMOUS. Having a different name.

    HOROLOGY. The science of measuring time and of constructing instruments for that purpose.

    HYGEIA. The Greek goddess of health; health.

    HYPERMETHODIC. Methodic to excess; overmethodic.

    HYPERTROPHY. Excessive growth.

    INDISCERPTIBLE. Incapable of being destroyed by separation of parts.

    INHIBITION. Interference with the normal result of a nervous excitement by an opposing force.

    IRRADIATION. The diffusion of nervous stimuli out of the path of normal discharge which, as a result of the excitation of a peripheral end organ may excite other central organs than those directly connected with it.

    KINESOLOGICAL. Pertaining to the science of tests and measurements of bodily strength.

    KINESOMETER. An instrument for measuring muscular strength.

    MEDULLATION. The investment of nerve fibers with a protective covering or medullary sheath, consisting of white, fat-like matter.

    MERISTIC. Pertaining to the levels or spinal and cerebral segments of the body.

    METABOLISM. The act or process by which, on the one hand, dead food is built up into living matter—anabolism, and by which, on the other, the living matter is broken down into simpler products within a cell or organism—catabolism.

    METAMORPHOSIS. Change of form or structure; transformation.

    METEMPSYCHOSIS. The doctrine of the transmigration of the soul from one body to another.

    MONOPHRASTIC. Pertaining to or consisting of a single phrase.

    MONOTECHNIC. Pertaining to a single art or craft.

    MORPHOLOGY. The science of form and structure of plants and animals without regard to function.

    MYOLOGY. The scientific knowledge of the muscular system.

    MYTHOPOEIC. Producing or having a tendency to produce myths.

    NOETIC. Of, pertaining to, or conceived by, mind.

    NUANCE. Slight shade; difference; distinction; degree.

    ORTHOGENIC. Pertaining to right beginning and development.

    ORTHOPEDIC. Relating to the art of curing deformities.

    OSSUARY. A depository of dry bones.

    PALEOPSYCHIC. Pertaining to the antiquity of the soul.

    PANTHEISTIC. Relating to that doctrine which holds that the entire phenomenal universe, including man and nature, is the ever-changing manifestation of God, who rises to self-consciousness and personality only in man.

    PATRISTICS. That department of study occupied with the doctrines and writings of the fathers of the Christian Church.

    PHOBIA. Excessive or morbid fear of anything.

    PHYLETICALLY. In accordance with the phylum or race; racially.

    PHYLETIC. Pertaining to a race or clan.

    PHYLOGENY. The history of the evolution of a species or group; tribal history; ancestral development as opposed to ontogeny or the development of the individual.

    PHYLUM. A term introduced by Haeckel to designate the great branches of the animal and vegetable kingdoms. Each phylum may include several classes.

    PICKELHAUBE. The spiked helmet of the German army.

    PLANKTON. Sea animals and plants collectively; distinguished from coast or bottom forms and floating in a great mass.

    POLYGAMIC (LOVE). Pertaining to the habit of having more than one mate of the opposite sex.

    POLYPHRASTIC. Having many phrases; pertaining to rambling, incoherent speech.

    POST-SIMIAN. Pertaining to an age later than that in which simian or monkey-like forms prevailed.

    PRENUBILE. Pertaining to the age before sexual maturity or marriageability is reached.

    PRIE DIEU. A praying desk.

    PROPEDEUTIC. Preliminary; introductory.

    PROPHYLACTIC. Any medicine or measure efficacious in preventing disease.

    PSEUDOPHOBIAC. Pertaining to a morbid condition in which the subject is continually in fear of having said something not strictly true.

    PSYCHOGENESIS. The origin and development of soul.

    PSYCHONOMIC. Pertaining to the laws of mind.

    PSYCHOSIS. Mental constitution or condition; any change in consciousness, especially if abnormal.

    PUBERTY. The age of sexual maturity.

    PUBESCENT. Relating to the dawning of puberty.

    PYGMOID. Of pygmy size and form.

    RABULIST. A chronic wrangler; one who argues about everything.

    SCHEMA. A synopsis; a summary. In the Kantian sense, a general type.

    SCHEMATISM. An outline of any systematic arrangement; an outline.

    SUPERFOETATION. A second conception some time after a prior one, by which two foetuses of different age exist together in the same female. Often used figuratively.

    TEMIBILITY. (From Italian temibile, to be feared.) The principle of adjustment of penalty to crime in just that degree necessary to prevent a repetition of the criminal act.

    TIC. A nervous affection of the muscles; a twitching.

    TRANSCENDENTAL. In the Kantian system having an a priori character, transcending experience, presupposed in and necessary to experience.

    TRAUMATA. Wounds.

    TRAUMATISM. A wound; any morbid condition produced by wounds or other external violence.

    VERBIGERATION. The continual utterance of certain words or phrases at short intervals, without reference to their meaning, as seen in insane Gedankenflucht or rapid flight of thought.

    Extract from Youth: Its Education, Regimen, and Hygiene, by G. Stanley Hall

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  • MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF THE YOUTH

    MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF THE YOUTH

    MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING

    Dangers of muscular degeneration and overstimulus of brain—Difficulties in teaching morals—Methods in Europe—Obedience to commands—Good habits should be mechanized—Value of scolding—How to flog aright—Its dangers—Moral precepts and proverbs—Habituation—Training will through intellect—Examinations—Concentration—Originality—Froebel and the naive—First ideas of God—Conscience—Importance of Old and New Testaments—Sex dangers—Love and religion—Conversion.

    From its nature as well as from its central importance it might be easily shown that the will is no less dependent on the culture it receives than is the mind. It is fast becoming as absurd to suppose that men can survive in the great practical strain to which American life subjects all who would succeed, if the will is left to take its doubtful chances of training and discipline, as to suppose that the mind develops in neglect. Our changed conditions make this chance of will-culture more doubtful than formerly. A generation or two ago[1] most school-boys had either farm work, chores, errands, jobs self-imposed, or required by less tender parents; they made things, either toys or tools, out of school. Most school-girls did house-work, more or less of which is, like farm-work, perhaps the most varied and most salutary as well as most venerable of all schools for the youthful body and mind. They undertook extensive works of embroidery, bed-quilting, knitting, sewing, mending, if not cleaning, and even spinning and weaving their own or others’ clothing, and cared for the younger children. The wealthier devised or imposed tasks for will-culture, as the German Kaiser has his children taught a trade as part of their education. Ten days at the hoe-handle, axe, or pitchfork, said an eminent educator lately in substance, with no new impression from without, and one constant and only duty, is a schooling in perseverance and sustained effort such as few boys now get in any shape; while city instead of country life brings so many new, heterogeneous and distracting impressions of motion rather than rest, and so many privileges with so few corresponding duties, that with artificial life and bad air the will is weakened, and eupeptic minds and stomachs, on which its vigor so depends, are rare. Machines supersede muscles, and perhaps our athleticism gives skill too great preponderance over strength, or favors intense rather than constant, long-sustained, unintermittent energy. Perhaps too many of our courses of study are better fitted to turn out many-sided but superficial paragraphists, than men who can lay deep plans, and subordinate many complex means to one remote end. Meanwhile, if there is any one thing of which our industries and practical arts are in more crying need than another, it is the old-fashioned virtue of thoroughness, of a kind and degree which does not address merely the eye, is not limited by the letter of a contract, but which has some regard for its products for their own sake, and some sense for the future. Whether in science, philosophy, morals, or business, the fields for long-ranged cumulative efforts are wider, more numerous, and far more needy than in the days when it was the fashion for men contentedly to concentrate themselves to one vocation, life-work, or mission, or when cathedrals or other yet vaster public works were transmitted, unfinished but ever advancing, from one generation of men to another.

    It is because the brain is developed, while the muscles are allowed to grow flabby and atrophied, that the deplored chasm between knowing and doing is so often fatal to the practical effectiveness of mental and moral culture. The great increase of city and sedentary life has been far too sudden for the human body—which was developed by hunting, war, agriculture, and manifold industries now given over to steam and machinery—to adapt itself healthfully or naturally to its new environment. Let any of us take down an anatomical chart of the human muscles, and reflect what movements we habitually make each day, and realize how disproportionately our activities are distributed compared with the size or importance of the muscles, and how greatly modern specialization of work has deformed our bodies. The muscles that move the scribbling pen are insignificant fraction of those in the whole body, and those that wag the tongue and adjust the larynx are also comparatively few and small. Their importance is, of course, not underrated, but it is disastrous to concentrate education upon them too exclusively or too early in life. The trouble is that few realize what physical vigor is in man or woman, or how dangerously near weakness often is to wickedness, how impossible healthful energy of will is without strong muscles which are its organ, or how endurance and self-control, no less than great achievement, depend on muscle-habits. Both in Germany and Greece, a golden age of letters was preceded, by about a generation, by a golden age of national gymnastic enthusiasm which constitutes, especially in the former country, one of the most unique and suggestive chapters in the history of pedagogy. Symmetry and grace, hardihood and courage, the power to do everything that the human body can do with and without all conceivable apparatus, instruments, and even tools, are culture ideals that in Greece, Rome, and Germany respectively have influenced, as they might again influence, young men, as intellectual ideals never can do save in a select few. We do not want “will-virtuosos,” who perform feats hard to learn, but then easy to do and good for show; nor spurtiness of any sort which develops an erethic habit of work, temper, and circulation, and is favored by some of our popular sports but too soon reacts into fatigue. Even will-training does not reach its end till it leads the young up to taking a intelligent, serious and life-long interest in their own physical culture and development. This is higher than interest in success in school or college sport; and, though naturally later than these, is one of the earliest forms of will-culture in which it is safe and wise to attempt to interest the young for its own sake alone. In our exciting life and trying climate, in which the experiment of civilization has never been tried before, these thoughts are merely exercises.

    But this is, of course, preliminary. Great as is the need, the practical difficulties in the way are very great. First, there are not only no good text-books in ethics, but no good manual to guide teachers. Some give so many virtues or good habits to be taught per term, ignoring the unity of virtue as well as the order in which the child’s capacities for real virtue unfold. Advanced text-books discuss the grounds of obligation, the nature of choice or freedom, or the hedonistic calculus, as if pleasures and pains could be balanced as measurable quantities, etc., so that philosophic morality is clearly not for children or teachers. Secondly, evolution encourages too often the doubt whether virtue can be taught, when it should have the opposite effect. Perversity and viciousness of will are too often treated as constitutional disease; and insubordination or obstinacy, especially in school, are secretly admired as strength, instead of being vigorously treated as crampy disorders of will, and the child is coddled into flaccidity. Becomes the lowest develops first, there is danger that it will interfere with the development of the higher, and thus, if left to his own, the child may come to have no will. The third and greatest difficulty is, that with the best effort to do so, so few teachers can separate morality from religious creed. So vital is the religions sentiment here that it is hard to divorce the end of education from the end of life, proximate from ultimate grounds of obligation, or finite from infinite duties. Those whose training has been more religious than ethical can hardly teach morality per se satisfactorily to the noli me tangere [Touch me not] spirit of denominational freedom so wisely jealous of conflicting standards and sanctions for the young.

    How then can we ever hope to secure proper training for the will?

    More than a generation ago Germany developed the following method: Children of Lutheran, Catholic and Jewish parentage, which include most German children, were allowed one afternoon a week for several years, and two afternoons a week for a few months preceding confirmation, to spend half of a school day with instructors of these respective professions, who were nominated by the church, but examined by the state as to their competence. These teachers are as professional, therefore, as those in the regular class work. Each religion is allowed to determine its own course of religious instruction, subject only to the approval of the cultus minister or the local authorities. In this way a rupture between the religious sentiments and teaching of successive generations is avoided and it is sought to bring religious training to bear upon morals. These classes learn Scripture, hymns, church service,—the Catholics in Latin and the Jewish in Hebrew,—the history of their church and people, and sometimes a little systematic theology. In some of these schools, there are prizes and diplomas, and the spirit of competition is appealed to. A criticism sometimes made against them, especially against the Lutheran religious pedagogy, is that it is too intellectual. It is, of course, far more systematic and effective from this point of view than the American Sunday School, so that whatever may be said of its edifying effects, the German child knows these topics far better than the American. This system, with modifications, has been adopted in some places in France, England and in America, more often in private than in public schools, however.

    The other system originated in France some years after the Franco-Prussian War when the clerical influence in French education gave way to the lay and secular spirit. In these classes, for which also stated times are set apart and which are continued through all the required grades under the name of moral and civic instruction, the religious element is entirely absent, except that there are a few hymns, Bible passages and stories which all agree upon as valuable. Most of the course is made up of carefully selected maxims and especially stories of virtue, records of heroic achievements in French history and even in literature and the drama. Everything, however, has a distinct moral lesson, although that lesson is not made offensively prominent. We have here nearly a score of these textbooks, large and small. It would seen as though the resources of the French records and literature had been ransacked, and indeed many deeds of heroism are culled from the daily press. The matter is often arranged under headings such as cleanliness, acts of kindness, courage, truthfulness versus lying, respect for age, good manners, etc. Each virtue is thus taught in a way appropriate to each stage of childhood, and quite often bands of mercy, rescue leagues and other societies are the outgrowth of this instruction. It is, of course, exposed to much criticism from the clergy on the cogent ground that morality needs the support of religion, at the very least, in childhood. This system has had much influence in England where several similar courses have been evolved, and in this country we have at least one very praiseworthy effort in this direction, addressed mainly, however, to older children.

    Besides this, two ways suggest themselves. First, we may try to assume, or tediously enucleate a consensus of religious truth as a basis of will training, e.g., God and immortality, and, ignoring the minority who doubt these, vote them into the public school. Pedagogy need have nothing whatever to say respecting the absolute truth or falsity of these ideas, but there is little doubt that they have an influence on the will, at a certain stage of average development, greater and more essential than any other; so great that even were their vitality to decay like the faith in the Greek or German mythology, we should still have to teach God and a future life as the most imperative of all hypotheses in a field where, as in morals, nothing is so practical as a good theory; and we should have to fall to teaching the Bible as a moral classic, and cultivate a critical sympathy for its view of life. But this way ignores revelation and supernatural claims, while some have other objections to emancipating or “rescuing” the Bible from theology just yet. Indeed, the problem how to teach anything that the mind could not have found out for itself, but that had to be revealed, has not been solved by modern pedagogy, which, since Pestalozzi, has been more and more devoted to natural and developing methods. The latter teaches that there must not be too much seed sown, too much or too high precept, or too much iteration, and that, in Jean Paul’s phrase, the hammer must not rest on bell, but only tap and rebound, to bring out a clear tone. Again, a consensus of this content would either have to be carefully defined and would be too generic and abstract for school uses, or else differences of interpretation, which so pervade and are modified by character, culture, temperament, and feeling, would make the consensus itself nugatory. Religious training must be specific at first, and, omitting qualifications, the more explicit the denominational faith the earlier may religious motives affect the will.

    This is the way of our hopes, to the closer consideration of which we intend to return in the future, though it must be expected that the happiest consensus will be long quarantined from most schools. Meanwhile a second way, however unpromising, is still open. Noble types of character may rest on only the native instincts of the soul or even on broadly interpreted utilitarian considerations. But if morality without religion were only a bloodless corpse or a plank in a shipwreck, there is now need enough for teachers to study its form, drift, and uses by itself alone. This, at least, is our purpose in considering the will, and this only.

    The will, purpose, and even mood of small children when alone, are fickle, fluctuating, contradictory. Our very presence imposes one general law on them, viz., that of keeping our good will and avoiding our displeasure. As the plant grows towards the light, so they unfold in the direction of our wishes, felt as by divination. They respect all you smile at, even buffoonery; look up in their play to call your notice, to study the lines of your sympathy, as if their chief vocation was to learn your desires. Their early lies are often saying what they think will please us, knowing no higher touchstones of truth. If we are careful to be wisely and without excess happy and affectionate when they are good, and saddened and slightly cooled in manifestations of love if they do wrong, the power of association in the normal, eupeptic child will early choose right as surely as pleasure increases vitality. If our love is deep, obedience is an instinct if not a religion. The child learns that while it can not excite our fear, resentment or admiration, etc., it can act on our love, and this should be the first sense of its own efficiency. Thus, too, it first learns that the way of passion and impulse is not the only rule of life, and that something is gained by resisting them. It imitates our acts long before it can understand our words. As if it felt its insignificance, and dreaded to be arrested in some lower phase of its development, its instinct for obedience becomes almost a passion. As the vine must twine or grovel, so the child comes unconsciously to worship idols, and imitates bad patterns and examples in the absence of worthy ones. He obeys as with a deep sense of being our chattel, and, at bottom, admires those who coerce him, if the means be wisely chosen. The authority must, of course, be ascendancy over heart and mind. The more absolute such authority the more the will is saved from caprice and feels the power of steadiness. Such authority excites the unique, unfathomable sense of reverence, which measures the capacity for will-culture, and is the strongest and soundest of all moral motives. It is also the most comprehensive, for it is first felt only towards persons, and personality is a bond, enabling any number of complex elements to act or be treated as whole, as everything does and is in the child’s soul, instead of in isolation and detail. In the feeling of respect culminating in worship almost all educational motives are involved, but especially those which alone can bring the will to maturity; and happy the child who is bound by the mysterious and constraining sympathy of dependence, by which, if unblighted by cynicism, a worthy mentor directs and lifts the will. This unconscious reflection of our character and wishes is the diviner side of childhood, by which it is quick and responsive to everything in its moral environment. The child may not be able to tell whether its teacher often smiles, dresses in this way or that, speaks loud or low, has many rules or not, though every element of her personality affects him profoundly. His acts of will have not been choices, but a mass of psychic causes far greater than consciousness can estimate have laid a basis of character, than which heredity alone is deeper, before the child knows he has a will. These influences are not transient but life-long, for if the conscious and intentional may anywhere be said to be only a superficial wave over the depths of the unconscious, it is in the sphere of will-culture.

    But command and obedience must also be specific to supplant nature. Here begins the difficulty. A young child can know no general commands. “Sit in your chair,” means sit a moment, a sort of trick, with no prohibition to stand the next instant. Any just-forbidden act may be done in the next room. All is here and now, and patient reiteration, till habit is formed, and no havoc-making rules which it cannot understand or remember, is our cue. Obedience can, however, be instinct even here, and is its chief virtue, and there is no more fear of weakening the will by it than in the case of soldiers. As the child grows older, however, and as the acts commanded are repugnant, or unusual, there should be increasing care, lest authority be compromised, sympathy ruptured, or lest mutual timidity and indecision, if not mutual insincerity and dissimulation, as well as parodied disobedience, etc., to test us, result. We should, of course, watch for favorable moods, assume no unwonted or preternatural dignity or owlish air of wisdom, and command in a low voice which does not too rudely break in upon the child’s train of impressions. The acts we command or forbid should be very few at first, but inexorable. We should be careful not to forbid where we cannot follow a untrusty child, or what we can not prevent. Our own will should be a rock and not a wave. Our requirements should be uniform, with no whim, mood, or periodicity of any sort about them. If we alternate from caresses to severity, are fields and capricious instead of commanding by a fixed and settled plan, if we only now and then take the child in hand, so he does not know precisely what to expect, we really require the child to change its nature with every change in us, and well for the child who can defy such a changeable authority, which not only unsettles but breaks up character anew when it is just at the beginning of the formative period. Neglect is better than this, and fear of inconsistency of authority makes the best parents often jealous of arbitrariness in teachers. Only thus can we develop general habits of will and bring the child to know general maxims of conduct inductively, and only thus by judicious boldness and hardihood in command can we bring the child to feel the conscious strength that comes only from doing unpleasant things. Even if instant obedience be only external at first, it will work inward, for moods are controlled by work, and it is only will which enlarges the bounds of personality.

    Yet we must not forget that even morality is relative, and is one thing for adults and often quite another for children. The child knows nothing of absolute truth, justice, or virtues. The various stimuli of discipline are to enforce the higher though weaker insights which the child has already unfolded, rather than to engraft entirely unintuited good. The command must find some ally, feeble though it be, in the child’s own soul. We should strive to fill each moment with as little sacrifice or subordination, as mere means or conditions to the future, as possible, for fear of affectation and insincerity. But yet the hardier and sounder the nature, the more we may address training to barely nascent intuitions, with a less ingredient of immediate satisfaction, and the deeper the higher element Of interest will be grounded in the end. The child must find as he advances towards maturity, that every new insight, or realization of his own reveals the fact that you have been there before with commands, cultivating sentiments and habits, and not that he was led to mistake your convenience or hobby for duty, or failed to temper the will by temporizing with it. The young are apt to be most sincere at an age when they are also most mistaken, but if sincerity be kept at its deepest and best, will be least harmful and easiest overcome. If authority supplement rather than supersede good motives, the child will so love authority as to overcome your reluctance to apply it directly, and as a final result will choose the state and act you have pre-formed in its slowly-widening margin of freedom, and will be all the less liable to undue subservience to priest or boss, or fashion or tradition later, as obedience gives place to normal, manly independence.

    In these and many other ways everything in conduct should be mechanized as early and completely as possible. The child’s notion of what is right is what is habitual, and the simple, to which all else is reduced in thought, is identified with the familiar. It is this primitive stratum of habits which principally determines our deepest belief which all must have over and above knowledge—to which men revert in mature years from youthful vagaries. If good acts are a diet and not a medicine, are repeated over and over again, as every new beat of the loom pounds in one new thread, and sense of justice and right is wrought into the very nerve-cells and fibers; if this ground texture of the soul, this “memory and habit-plexus,” this sphere of thoughts we oftenest think and acts we oftenest do, is early, rightly and indiscerptibly wrought, not only does it become a web of destiny for us, so all-determining is it, but we have something perdurable to fall back on if moral shock or crisis or change or calamity shall have rudely broken up the whole structure of later associations. Not only the more we mechanize thus, the more force of soul is freed for higher work, but we are insured against emergencies in which the choice and deed is likely to follow the nearest motive, or that which acts quickest, rather than to pause and be influenced by higher and perhaps intrinsically stronger motives. Reflection always brings in a new set of later-acquired motives and considerations, and if these are better than habit-mechanism, then pause is good; if not, he who deliberates is lost. Our purposive volitions are very few compared with the long series of desires, acts and reactions, often contradictory, many of which were never conscious, and many once willed but now lapsed to reflexes, the traces of which crowding the unknown margins of the soul, constitute the organ of the conscious will.

    It is only so far as this primitive will is wrong by nature or training, that drastic reconstructions of any sort are needed. Only those who mistake weakness for innocence, or simplicity for candor, or forget that childish faults are no less serious because universal, deny the, at least, occasional depravity of all children, or fail to see that fear and pain are among the indispensables of education, while a parent, teacher, or even a God, all love, weakens and relaxes the will. Children do not cry for the alphabet; the multiplication table is more like medicine than confectionery, and it is only affected thoroughness that omits all that is hard. “The fruits of learning may be sweet, but its roots are always bitter,” and it is this alone that makes it possible to strengthen the will while instructing the mind. The well-schooled will comes, like Herder, to scorn the luxury of knowing without the labor of learning. We must anticipate the future penalties of sloth as well as of badness. The will especially is a trust we are to administer for the child, not as he may now wish, but as he will wish when more mature. We must now compel what he will later wish to compel himself to do. To find his habits already formed to the same law that his mature will and the world later enjoin, cements the strongest of all bonds between mentor and child. Nothing, however, must be so individual as punishment. For some, a threat at rare intervals is enough; while for others, however ominous threats may be, they become at once “like scarecrows, on which the foulest birds soonest learn to perch.” To scold well and wisely is an art by itself. For some children, pardon is the worst punishment; for others, ignoring or neglect; for others, isolation from friends, suspension from duties; for others, seclusion—which last, however, is for certain ages beset with extreme danger—and for still others, shame from being made conspicuous. Mr. Spencer’s “natural penalties” can be applied to but few kinds of wrong, and those not the worst. Basedow tied boys who fell into temptation to a strong pillar to brace them up; if stupid and careless, put on a fool’s cap and bells; if they were proud, they were suspended near the ceiling in a basket, as Aristophanes represented Socrates. Two boys who quarreled, were made to look into each other’s eyes before the whole school till their angry expressions gave way before the general sense of the ridiculous. This is more ingenious than wise. The object of discipline is to avoid punishment, but even flogging should never be forbidden. It maybe reserved, like a sword in its scabbard, but should not get so rusted in that it can not be drawn on occasion. The law might even limit the size and length of the rod, and place of application, as in Germany, but it should be of no less liberal dimensions here than there. punishment should, of course, be minatory and reformatory, and not vindictive, and we should not forget that certainty is more effective than severity, nor that it is apt to make motives sensuous, and delay the psychic restraint which should early preponderate over the physical. But will-culture for boys is rarely as thorough as it should be without more or less flogging. I would not, of course, urge the extremes of the past. The Spartan beating as a gymnastic drill to toughen, the severity which prevailed in Germany for a long time after its Thirty Years’ Wars,[2] the former fashion in many English schools of walking up not infrequently to take a flogging as a plucky thing to do, and with no notion of disgrace attaching to it, shows at least an admirable strength of will. Severe constraint gives poise, inwardness, self-control, inhibition, and not-willingness, if not willingness, while the now too common habit of coquetting for the child’s favor, and tickling its ego with praises and prizes, and pedagogic pettifogging for its good-will, and sentimental fear of a judicious slap to rouse a spoiled child with no will to break, to make it keep step with the rest in conduct, instead of delaying a whole school-room to apply a subtle psychology of motives on it, is bad. This reminds one of the Jain who sweeps the ground before him lest he unconsciously tread on a worm. Possibly it may be well, as Schleiermacher suggests, not to repress some one nascent bad act in some natures, but let it and the punishment ensue for the sake of Dr. Spankster’s tonic. Dermal pain is not the worst thing in the world, and by a judicious knowledge of how it feels at both ends of the rod, by flogging and being flogged, far deeper pains may be forefended. Insulting defiance, deliberative disobedience, ostentatious carelessness and bravado, are diseases of the will, and, in very rare cases of Promethean obstinacy, the severe process of breaking the will is needful, just as in surgery it is occasionally needful to rebreak a limb wrongly set, or deformed, to set it over better. It is a cruel process, but a crampy will in childhood means moral traumatism of some sort in the adult. Few parents have the nerve to do this, or the insight to see just when it is needed. It is, as some one has said, like knocking a man down to save him from stepping off a precipice. Even the worst punishments are but very faint types of what nature has in store in later life for some forms of perversity of will, and are better than sarcasm, ridicule, or tasks, as penalties. The strength of obstinacy is admirable, and every one ought to have his own will; but a false direction, though almost always the result of faulty previous training when the soul more fluid and mobile, is all the more fatal. While so few intelligent parents are able to refrain from the self-indulgence of too much rewarding or giving, even though it injures the child, it is perhaps too much to expect the hardihood which can be justly cold to the caresses of a child who seeks, by displaying all its stock of goodness and arts of endearment, to buy back good-will after punishment has been deserved. If we wait too long, and punish in cold blood, a young child may hate us; while, if we punish on the instant, and with passion, a little of which is always salutary, on the principle, ohne Affekt kein Effekt, [Without passion, no effect] an older child may fail of the natural reactions of conscience, which should always be secured. The maxim, summum jus summa injuria, [The rigor of the law may be the greatest wrong] we are often told, is peculiarly true in school, and so it is; but to forego all punishment is no less injustice to the average child, for it is to abandon one of the most effective means of will-culture. We never punish but a part, as it were, of the child’s nature; he has lied, but is not therefore a liar, and we deal only with the specific act, and must love all the rest of him.

    And yet, after all, indiscriminate flogging is so bad, and the average teacher is so inadequate to that hardest and most tactful of all his varied duties, viz., selecting the right outcrop of the right fault of the right child at the right time and place, mood, etc., for best effect, that the bold statement of such principles as above is perhaps not entirely without practical danger, especially in two cases which Madame Necker and Sigismund have pointed out, and in several cases of which the present writer has notes. First, an habitually good child sometimes has a saturnalia of defiance and disobedience; a series of insubordinate acts are suddenly committed which really mark the first sudden epochful and belated birth of the instinct of independence and self-regulation, on which his future manliness will depend. He is quite irresponsible, the acts are never repeated, and very lenient treatment causes him, after the conflict of tumultuous feelings has expanded his soul, to react healthfully into habitual docility again, if some small field for independent action be at once opened him. The other case is that of ennui, of which children suffer such nameless qualms. When I should open half a dozen books, start for a walk, and then turn back, wander about in mind or body, seeking but not finding content in anything, a child in my mood will wish for a toy, an amusement, food, a rare indulgence, only to neglect or even reject it petulantly when granted. These flitting “will-spectres” are physical, are a mild form of the many fatal dangers of fatigue; and punishment is the worst of treatment. Rest or diversion is the only cure, and the teacher’s mind must be fruitful of purposes to that end. Perhaps a third case for palliative treatment is, those lies which attend the first sense of badness. The desire to conceal it occasionally accompanies the nascent effort to reform and make the lie true. These cases are probably rare, while the temptation to lie is far greater for one who does ill than for one who does well, for fear is the chief motive, and a successful lie which concealed would weaken the desire to cure a fault.

    We have thus far spoken of obedience, and come now to the later necessity of self-guidance, which, if obedience has wrought its perfect work, will be natural and inevitable. It is very hard to combine reason and coercion, yet it is needful that children think themselves free long before we cease to determine them. As we slowly cease to prescribe and begin to inspire, a very few well-chosen mottoes, proverbs, maxims, should be taught very simply, so that they will sink deep. Education has been defined as working against the chance influences of life, and it is certain that without some precepts and rules the will will not exert itself. If reasons are given, and energy is much absorbed in understanding, the child will assent but will not do. If the mind is not strong, many wide ideas are very dangerous. Strong wills are not fond of arguments, and if a young person falls to talking or thinking beyond his experience, subjective or objective, both conduct and thought are soon confused by chaotic and incongruous opinions and beliefs; and false expectations, which are the very seducers of the will, arise. There can be little will-training by words, and the understanding can not realize the ideals of the will. All great things are dangerous, as Plato said, and the truth itself is not only false but actually immoral to unexpanded minds. Will-culture is intensive, not extensive, and the writer knows a case in which even a vacation ramble with a moralizing fabulist has undermined the work of years. Our precepts must be made very familiar, copiously illustrated, well wrought together by habit and attentive thought, and above all clear cut, that the pain of violating them may be sharp and poignant. Vague and too general precepts beyond the horizon of the child’s real experience do not haunt him if they are outraged. Now the child must obey these, and will, if he has learned to obey well the command of others.

    One of the best sureties that he will do so is muscle-culture, for if the latter are weaker than the nerves and brain, the gap between knowing and doing appears and the will stagnates. Gutsmuths, the father of gymnastics in Germany before Jahn, used to warn men not to fancy that the few tiny muscles that moved the pen or tongue had power to elevate men. They might titillate the soul with words and ideas; but rigorous, symmetrical muscle-culture alone, he and his Turner societies believed, could regenerate the Fatherland, for it was one thing to paint the conflict of life, and quite another to bear arms in it. They said, “The weaker the body the more it commands; the stronger it is the more it obeys.”

    In this way we shall have a strong, well-knit soul-texture, made up of volitions and ideas like warp and woof. Mind and will will be so compactly organized that all their forces can be brought to a single point. Each concept or purpose will call up those related to it, and once strongly set toward its object, the soul will find itself borne along by unexpected forces. This power of totalizing, rather than any transcendent relation of elements, constitutes at least the practical unity of the soul, and this unimpeded association of its elements is true or inner freedom of will. Nothing is wanting or lost when the powers of the soul are mobilized for a great task, and its substance is impervious to passion. With this organization, men of really little power accomplish wonders. Without it great minds are confused and lost. They have only velleity or caprice. The will makes a series of vigorous, perhaps almost convulsive, but short, inconsistent efforts. As Jean Paul says, there is sulphur, charcoal, and saltpetre in the soul, but powder is not made, for they never find each other. To understand this will-plexus is preeminent among the new demands now laid on educators.

    But, although this focalizing power of acting with the whole rather than with a part of the soul, gives independence of many external, conventional, proximate standards of conduct, deepening our interests in life, and securing us against disappointment by defining our expectations, while such a sound and simple will-philosophy is proof against considerable shock and has firmness of texture enough to bear much responsibility, there is, of course, something deeper, without which all our good conduct is more or less hollow. This is that better purity established by mothers in the plastic heart, before the superfoetation of precept is possible, or even before the “soul takes flight in language”; it is perhaps pre-natal or hereditary. Much every way depends on how aboriginal our goodness is, whether the will acts with effort, as we solve an intricate problem, in solitude, or as we say the multiplication table, which only much distraction can confuse, or as we repeat the alphabet, which the din of battle could not hinder. Later and earlier training should harmonize with each other and with nature. Thrice happy he who is so wisely trained that he comes to believe he believes what his soul deeply does believe, to say what he feels and feel what he really does feel, and chiefly whose express volitions square with the profounder drift of his will as the resultant of all he has desired or wished, expected, attended to, or striven for. When such an one comes to his moral majority by standing for the first time upon his own careful conviction, against the popular cry, or against his own material interests or predaceous passions, and feels the constraint and joy of pure obligation which comes up from this deep source, a new, original force is brought into the world of wills. Call it inspiration, or Kant’s transcendental impulse above and outside of experience, or Spencer’s deep reverberations from a vast and mysterious past of compacted ancestral experiences, the most concentrated, distilled and instinctive of all psychic products, and as old as Mr. Tyndall’s “fiery cloud”—the name or even source is little. We would call it the purest, freest, most prevailing, because most inward, will or conscience.

    This free, habitual guidance by the highest and best, by conviction with no sense of compulsion or obligation, impractical if not dangerous ideal, for it can be actually realized only by the rarest moral genius. For most of us, the best education is that which makes us the best and most obedient servants. This is the way of peace and the way of nature, for even if we seriously try to keep up a private conscience at all, apart from feeling, faction, party or class spirit, or even habit, which are our habitual guides, the difficulties are so great that most hasten, more or less consciously and voluntarily, to put themselves under authority again, serving only the smallest margin of independence in material interests, choice of masters, etc, and yielding to the pleasing and easy illusion that inflates the minimum to seem the maximum of freedom, and uses the noblest ideal of history, viz., that of pure autonomous oughtness, as a pedestal for idols of selfishness, caprice and conceit. The trouble is in interpreting these moral instincts, for even the authorities lack the requisite self-knowledge in which all wisdom culminates. The moral interregnum which the Aufklärung [Enlightenment] has brought will not end till these instincts are rightly interpreted by in intelligence. The richest streams of thought must flow about them, the best methods must peep and pry till their secrets are found and put into the idea-pictures in which most men think.

    This brings us, finally, to the highest and also immediately practical method of moral education, viz., training the will by and for intellectual work. Youth and childhood must not be subordinated as means to maturity. Learning is more useful than knowing. It is the way and not the goal, the work and not the product, the acquiring and not the acquisition, that educates will and character. To teach only results, which are so simple, without methods by which they were obtained, which are so complex and hard, to develop the sense of possession without the strain of activity, to teach great matters too easily or even as play, always to wind along the lines of least resistance into the child’s mind, is imply to add another and most enervating luxury to child-life. Only the sense and power of effort, which made Lessing prefer the search to the possession of truth, which trains the will in the intellectual field, which is becoming more and more the field of its activity, counts for character and makes instruction really educating. This makes mental work a series of acts, or living thoughts, and not merely words. Real education, that we can really teach, and that which is really most examinable, is what we do, while those who acquire without effort may be extremely instructed without being truly educated.

    It is those who have been trained to put forth mental power that come to the front later, while it is only those whose acquisitions are not transpeciated into power who are in danger of early collapse.

    It is because of this imperfect appropriation through lack of volitional reaction that mental training is so often dangerous, especially in its higher grades. Especially wherever good precepts are allowed to rest peacefully beside undiscarded bad habits, moral weakness is directly cultivated. Volitional recollection, or forcing the mind to reproduce a train of impressions, strengthens what we may call the mental will; while if multifarious impressions which excite at the time are left to take their chances, at best, fragmentary reproduction, incipient amnesia, the prelude of mental decay, may be soon detected. Few can endure the long working over of ideas, especially if at all fundamental, which is needful to full maturity of mind, without grave moral danger. New standpoints and ideas require new combinations of the mental elements, with constant risk that during the process, what was already secured will fall back into its lower components. Even oar immigrants suffer morally from the change of manners and customs and ideas, and yet education menus change; the more training the more change, as a rule, and the more danger during the critical transition period while we oscillate between control by old habits, or association within the old circle of thought, and by the new insights, as a medical student often suffers from trying to bring the regulation of his physical functions under new and imperfect hygienic insights. Thus most especially if old questions, concerning which we have long since ceased to trust ourselves to give reasons, need to be reopened, there is especial danger that the new equilibrium about which the dynamic is to be re-resolved into static power will be established, if at all, with loss instead of with gain. Indeed, it is a question not of schools but of civilization, whether mental training, from the three R’s to science and philosophy, shall really make men better, as the theory of popular education assumes, and whether the genius and talent of the few who can receive and bear it can be brought to the full maturity of a knowledge fully facultized—a question paramount, even in a republic, to the general education of the many.

    The illusion is that beginnings are hard. They are easy. Almost any mind can advance a little way into almost any subject. The feeblest youth can push on briskly in the beginning of a new subject, but he forgets, and so does the examiner who marks him, that difficulties increase not in arithmetical but in almost geometrical ratio as he advances. The fact, too, that all topics are taught by all teachers and that we have no specialized teaching in elementary branches, and that examinations are placed in the most debilitating part of our peculiarly debilitating spring, these help us to solve the problem which China has solved so well, viz., how to instruct and not to educate. A pass mark, say of fifty, should be given not for mastery of the first half of the book, or for knowledge of half the matter in it, but for that of three-fourths or more. Suppose one choose the easier method of tattooing his mind by attaining the easy early stages of proficiency in many subjects, as is possible and even encouraged in too many of our school and college curricula, he weakens the will-quality of his mind. Smattering is dissipation of energy. Only great, concentrated and prolonged efforts in one direction really train the mind, because only they train the will beneath it. Many little, heterogeneous efforts of different sorts leave the mind in a muddle of heterogeneous impressions, and the will like a rubber band is stretched to flaccidity around one after another bundle of objects too large for it to clasp into unity. Here again, in der Beschränkung zeigt sich der Meister [The master shows himself in self-limitation]; all-sidedness through one-sidedness; by stalking the horse or cow out in the spring time, till he gnaws his small allotted circle of grass to the ground, and not by roving and cropping at will, can he be taught that the sweetest joint is nearest the root, are convenient symbols of will-culture in the intellectual field. Even a long cram, if only on one subject, which brings out the relations of the parts, or a “one-study college,” as is already devised in the West, or the combination of several subjects even in primary school grades into a “concentration series,” as devised by Ziller and Rein, the university purpose as defined by Ziller of so combining studies that each shall stand in the course next to that with which it is inherently closest connected by matter and method, or the requirements of one central and two collateral branches for the doctorate examination—all these devices no doubt tend to give a sense of efficiency, which is one of the deepest and proudest joys of life, in the place of a sense of possession so often attended by the exquisite misery of conscious weakness. The unity of almost any even ideal purpose is better than none, if it tend to check the superficial one of learning to repeat again or of boxing the whole compass of sciences and liberal arts, as so many of our high schools or colleges attempt.

    Finally, in the sphere of mental productivity and originality, a just preponderance of the will-element makes men distrust new insights, quick methods, and short cuts, and trust chiefly to the genius of honest and sustained work, in power of which perhaps lies the greatest intellectual difference between men. When ideas are ripe for promulgation they have been condensed and concentrated, thought traverses them quickly and easily—in a word, they have become practical, and the will that waits over a new idea patiently and silently, without anxiety, even though with a deepening sense of responsibility, till all sides have been seen, all authorities consulted, all its latent mental reserves heard from, is the man who “talks with the rifle and not with the water-hose,” or, in a rough farmer’s phrase, “boils his words till he can give his hearers sugar and not sap.” Several of the more important discoveries of the present generation, which cost many weary months of toil, have been enumerated in a score or two of lines, so that every experimenter could set up his apparatus and get the results in a few minutes. Let us not forget that, in most departments of mental work, the more we revise and reconstruct our thought, the longer we inhibit its final expression, while the oftener we return to it refreshed from other interests, the clearer and more permeable for other minds it becomes, because the more it tends to express itself in terms of willed action, which is “the language of complete men.”

    So closely bound together are moral and religious training that a discussion of one without the other would be incomplete. In a word, religion is the most generic kind of culture as opposed to all systems or departments which are one sided. All education culminates in it because it is chief among human interests, and because it gives inner unity to the mind, heart, and will. How now should this common element of union be taught?

    To be really effective and lasting, moral and religious training must begin in the cradle. It was a profound remark of Froebel that the unconsciousness of a child is rest in God. This need not be understood in guy pantheistic sense. From this rest in God the childish soul should not be abruptly or prematurely aroused. Even the primeval stages of psychic growth are rarely so all-sided, so purely unsolicited, spontaneous, and unprecocious, as not to be in a sense a fall from Froebel’s unconsciousness or rest in God. The sense of touch, the mother of all the other senses, is the only one which the child brings into the world already experienced; but by the pats, caresses, hugs, etc., so instinctive with young mothers, varied feelings and sentiments are communicated to the child long before it recognizes its own body as distinct from things about it. The mother’s face and voice are the first conscious objects as the infant soul unfolds, and she soon comes to stand in the very place of God to her child. All the religion of which the child is capable during this by no means brief stage of its development consists of those sentiments—gratitude, trust, dependence, love, etc., now felt only for her—which are later directed toward God. The less these are now cultivated toward the mother, who is now their only fitting if not their only possible object, the more feebly they will later be felt toward God. This, too, adds greatly to the sacredness and the responsibilities of motherhood. Froebel perhaps is right that thus fundamental religious sentiments can be cultivated in the earliest months of infancy. It is of course impossible not to seem, perhaps even not to be, sentimental upon this theme, for the infant soul has no other content than sentiments, and because upon these rests the whole superstructure of religion in child or adult. The mother’s emotions, and physical and mental states, indeed, imparted and reproduced in the infant so immediately, unconsciously, and through so many avenues, that it is no wonder that these relations see mystic. Whether the mother is habitually under the influence of calm and tranquil emotions, or her temper is fluctuating or violent, or her movements are habitually energetic or soft and caressing, or she be regular or irregular in her ministrations to the infant in her arms, all these characteristics and habits are registered in the primeval language of touch upon the nervous system of the child. From this point of view, poise and calmness, the absence of all intense annuli and of sensations or transitions which are abrupt or sudden, and an atmosphere of quieting influences, like everything which retards by broadening, is in the general line of religious culture. The soul of an infant is well compared to a seed planted in a garden. It is not pressed or moved by the breezes which rustle the leaves overhead. The sunlight does not fall upon it, and even dew and evening coolness scarcely reach it; but yet there is not a breath of air or a ray of sunshine, nor a drop of moisture to which it is responsive, and which does not stir all its germinant forces. The child is a plant, must live out of doors in proper season, and there must be no forcing. Religion, then, at this important stage, at least, is naturalism pure and simple, and religious training is the supreme art of standing out of nature’s way. So implicit is the unity of soul and body at this formative age that care of the body is the most effective ethico-religious culture.

    Next to be considered are the sentiments which unfold under the influence of that fresh and naive curiosity which attends the first impressions of natural objects from which both religion and science spring as from one common root. The awe and sublimity of a thunderstorm, the sights and sounds of a spring morning, objects which lead the child’s thoughts to what is remote in time and space, old trees, ruins, the rocks, and, above all, the heavenly bodies—the utilization of these lessons is the most important task of the religious teacher during the kindergarten stage of childhood. Still more than the undevout astronomer, the undevout child under such influences is abnormal. In these directions the mind of the child is as open and plastic as that of the ancient prophet to the promptings of the inspiring Spirit. The child can recognize no essential difference between nature and the supernatural, and the products of mythopoeic fancy which have been spun about natural objects, and which have lain so long and so warm about the hearts of generations and races of men, are now the best of all nutriments for the soul. To teach scientific rudiments only about nature, on the shallow principle that nothing should be taught which must be unlearned, or to encourage the child to assume the critical attitude of mind, is dwarfing the heart and prematurely forcing the head. It has been said that country life is religion for children at this stage. However this may be, it is clear that natural religion is rooted in such experiences, and precedes revealed religion in the order of growth and education, whatever its logical order in systems of thought may be. A little later, habits of truthfulness[3] are best cultivated by the use of the senses in exact observation. To see a simple phenomenon in nature and report it fully and correctly is no easy matter, but the habit of trying to do so teaches what truthfulness is and leaves the impress of truth upon the whole life and character. I do not hesitate to say, therefore, that elements of science should be taught to children for the moral effects of its influences. At the same time all truth is not sensuous, and this training alone at this age tends to make the mind pragmatic, dry, and insensitive or unresponsive to that other kind of truth the value of which is not measured by its certainty so much as by its effect upon us. We must learn to interpret the heart and our native instincts as truthfully as we do external nature, for our happiness in life depends quite as largely upon bringing our beliefs into harmony with the deeper feelings of our nature as it does upon the ability to adapt ourselves to our physical environment. Thus not only all religious beliefs and moral acts will strengthen if they truly express the character instead of cultivating affectation and insincerity in opinion, word, and deed, as with mistaken pedagogic methods they may do. This latter can be avoided only by leaving all to naturalism and spontaneity at first, and feeding the soul only according to its appetites and stage of growth. No religious truth must be taught as fundamental—especially as fundamental to morality—which can be seriously doubted or even misunderstood. Yet it must be expected that convictions will be transformed and worked over and over again, and only late, if at all, will an equilibrium between the heart and the truth it clings to as finally satisfying be attained. Hence most positive religious instruction, or public piety, if taught at all, should be taught briefly as most serious but too high for the child yet, or as rewards to stimulate curiosity for them later, but sacred things should not become too familiar or be conventionalized before they can be felt or understood.

    The child’s conception of God should not be personal or too familiar at first, but He should appear distant and vague, inspiring awe and reverence far more than love; in a word, as the God of nature rather than as devoted to serviceable ministrations to the child’s individual wants. The latter should be taught to be a faithful servant rather than a favorite of God. The inestimable pedagogic value of the God-idea consists in that it widens the child’s glimpse of the whole, and gives the first presentment of the universality of laws, such as are observed in its experiences and that of others, so that all things seem comprehended under one stable system or government. The slow realization that God’s laws are not like those of parents and teachers, evadible, suspensible, but changeless, and their penalties sure as the laws of nature, is most important factor of moral training. First the law, the schoolmaster, then the Gospel; first nature, then grace, is the order of growth.

    The pains or pleasures which follow many acts are immediate, while the results that follow others are so remote or so serious that the child must utilize the experience of others. Artificial rewards and punishments must be cunningly devised so as to simulate and typify as closely as possible the real natural penalty, and they must be administered uniformly and impartially like laws of nature. As commands are just, and as they are gradually perceived to spring from superior wisdom, respect arises, which Kant called the bottom motive of duty, and defined as the immediate determination of the will by law, thwarting self-love. Here the child reverences what is not understood as authority, and to the childish “Why?” which always implies imperfect respect for the authority, however displeasing its behest, the teacher or parent should always reply, “You cannot understand why yet,” unless quite sure that a convincing and controlling insight can be given, such as shall make all future exercise of outward authority in this particular unnecessary. From this standpoint the great importance of the character and native dignity of the teacher is best seen. Daily contact with some teachers is itself all-sided ethical education for the child without a spoken precept. Here, too, the real advantage of male over female teachers, especially for boys, is seen in their superior physical strength, which often, if highly estimated, gives real dignity and commands real respect, and especially in the unquestionably greater uniformity of their moods and their discipline.

    During the first years of school life, a point of prime importance in ethico-religious training is the education of conscience. This latter is the most complex and perhaps the most educable of all our so-called “faculties.” A system of carefully arranged talks, with copious illustrations from history and literature, about such topics as fair play, slang, cronies, dress, teasing, getting mad, prompting in class, white lies, affectation, cleanliness, order, honor, taste, self-respect, treatment of animals, reading, vacation pursuits, etc., can be brought quite within the range of boy-and-girl interests by a sympathetic and tactful teacher, and be made immediately and obviously practical. All this is nothing more or less than conscience-building. The old superstition that children have innate faculties of such a finished sort that they flash up and grasp the principle of things by a rapid sort of first “intellection,” an error that made all departments of education so trivial, assumptive and dogmatic for centuries before Comenius, Basedow and Pestalozzi, has been banished everywhere save from moral and religious training, where it still persists in full force. The senses develop first, and all the higher intuitions called by the collective name of conscience gradually and later in life. They first take the form of sentiments without much insight, and are hence liable to be unconscious affectation, and are caught insensibly from the environment with the aid of inherited predisposition, and only made more definite by such talks as the above. But parents are prone to forget that healthful and correct sentiments concerning matters of conduct are, at first, very feeble, and that the sense of obligation needs the long and careful guardianship of external authority. Just as a young medical student with a rudimentary notion of physiology and hygiene is sometimes disposed to undertake a more or less complete reform of his diet, regimen, etc., to make it “scientific” in a way that an older and a more learned physician would shrink from, so the half-insights of boys into matters of moral regimen are far too apt, in the American temperament, to expend, in precocious emancipation and crude attempts at practical realization, the force which is needed to bring their insights to maturity. Authority should be relaxed gradually, explicitly, and provisionally over one definite department of conduct at a time. To distinguish right and wrong in their own nature is the highest and most complex of intellectual processes. Most men and all children are guided only by associations of greater or less subtlety. Perhaps the whole round of human duties might be best taught by gathering illustrations of selfishness and tracing it in its countless disguises and ramifications through every stage of life. Selfishness is opposed to a sense of the infinite and is inversely as real religion, and the study of it is not, like systematic ethics, apt to be confused and made unpractical by conflicting theories.

    The Bible, the great instrument in the education of conscience, is far less juvenile than it is now the fashion to suppose. At the very least, it expresses the result of the ripest human experience, the noblest traditions of humanity. Old Testament history, even more than most very ancient history, is distilled to an almost purely ethical content. For centuries Scripture was withheld from the masses for the same reason that Plato refused at first to put his thoughts into writing, because it would be sure to be misunderstood by very many and lead to that worst of errors and fanaticism caused by half-truths. Children should not approach it too lightly.

    The Old Testament, perhaps before or more than the New, is the Bible for childhood. A good, protracted course of the law pedagogically prepares the way for the apprehension of the Gospel. Then the study of the Old Testament should begin with selected tales, told, as in the German schools, impressively, in the teacher’s language, but objectively, and without exegetical or hortatory comment. The appeal is directly to the understanding only at first, but the moral lesson is brought clearly and surely within the child’s reach, but not personally applied after the manner common with us.

    Probably the most important changes for the educator to study are those which begin between the ages of twelve and sixteen and are completed only some years later, when the young adolescent receives from nature a new capital of energy and altruistic feeling. It is physiological second birth, and success in life depends upon the care and wisdom with which this new and final invoice of energy is husbanded. These changes constitute a natural predisposition to a change of heart, and may perhaps be called, in Kantian phrase, its schema. Even from the psychophysic standpoint it is a correct instinct which has slowly led churches to center so much of their cultus upon regeneration. In this I, of course, only assert here the neurophysical side, which is everywhere present, even if everywhere subordinate to the spiritual side. As everywhere, so here, too, the physical may be called in a sense regulative rather than constitutive. It is therefore not surprising that statistics show that far more conversions, proportionately, take place during the adolescent period, which does not normally end before the age of twenty-four or five, than during any other period of equal length. At this age most churches confirm.

    Before this age the child lives in the present, is normally selfish, deficient in sympathy, but frank and confidential, obedient to authority, and without affectation save the supreme affectation of childhood, viz., assuming the words, manners, habits, etc., of those older than itself. But now stature suddenly increases, and the power of physical and mental endurance and effort diminishes for a time; larynx, nose, chin change, and normal and morbid ancestral traits and features appear. Far greater and more protracted, though unseen, are the changes which take place in the nervous system, both in the development of the cortex and expansion of the convolutions and the growth of association-fibers by which the elements shoot together and relation of things are seen, which hitherto seemed independent, to which it seems as if for a few years the energies of growth were chiefly directed. Hence this period is so critical and changes in character are so rapid. No matter how confidential the relations with the parent may have been, an important domain of the soul now declares its independence. Confidences are shared with those of equal age and withheld from parents, especially by boys, to an extent probably little suspected by most parents. Education must be addressed to freedom, which recognizes only self-made law, and spontaneity of opinion and conduct is manifested, often in extravagant and grotesque forms. There is now a longing for that kind of close sympathy and friendship which makes cronies and intimates; there is a craving for strong emotions which gives pleasure in exaggerations; and there are nameless longings for what is far, remote, strange, which emphasizes the self-estrangement which Hegel so well describes, and which marks the normal rise of the presentiment of something higher than self. Instincts of rivalry and competition now grow strong in boys, and girls grow more conscientious and inward, and begin to feel their music, reading, religion, painting, etc., and to realize the bearing of these upon their future adult life. There is often a strong instinct of devotion and self-sacrifice toward some, perhaps almost any, object, or in almost any cause which circumstances may present. Moodiness and perhaps a love of solitude are developed. “Growing fits” make hard and severe labor of body and mind impossible without dwarfing or arresting the development, by robbing of its nutrition some part of the organism—stomach, lungs, chest, heart, back, brain, etc.—which is peculiarly liable to disease later. It is never so hard to tell the truth plainly and objectively and without any subjective twist. The life of the mere individual ceases and that of person, or better, of the race, begins. It is a period of realization, and hence often of introspection. In healthy natures it is the golden age of life, in which enthusiasm, sympathy, generosity, and curiosity are at their strongest and best, and when growth is so rapid that, e.g., each college class is conscious of a vast interval of development which separates it from the class below; but it is also a period subject to Wertherian crises, such as Hume, Richter, J.S. Mill, and others passed through, and all depends on the direction given to these new forces.

    The dangers of this period are great and manifest. The chief of these, far greater even than the dangers of intemperance, is that the sexual elements of soul and body will be developed prematurely and disproportionately. Indeed, early maturity in this respect is itself bad. If it occurs before other compensating and controlling powers are unfolded, this element is hypertrophied and absorbs and dwarfs their energy and it is then more likely to be uninstructed and to suck up all that is vile in the environment. Far more than we realize, the thoughts and feelings of youth center about this factor of his nature. Quite apart, therefore, from its intrinsic value, education should serve the purpose of preoccupation, and should divert attention from an element of our nature the premature or excessive development of which dwarfs every part of soul and body. Intellectual interests, athleticism, social and esthetic tastes, should be cultivated. There should be some change in external life. Previous routine and drill-work must be broken through and new occupations resorted to, that the mind may not be left idle while the hands are mechanically employed. Attractive home-life, friendships well chosen and on a high plane, and regular habits, should of course be cultivated. Now, too, though the intellect is not frequently judged insane, so that pubescent insanity is comparatively rare, the feelings, which are yet more fundamental to mental sanity, are most often perverted, and lack of emotional steadiness, violent and dangerous impulses, unreasonable conduct, lack of enthusiasm and sympathy, are very commonly caused by abnormalities here. Neurotic disturbances, such as hysteria, chorea, and, in the opinion of some physicians, sick-headache and early dementia are peculiarly liable to appear and become seated during this period. In short, the previous selfhood is broken up like the regulation copy handwriting of early school years, and a new individual is in process of crystallization. All is solvent, plastic, peculiarly susceptible to external influences.

    Between love and religion, God and nature have wrought a strong and indissoluble bond. Flagellations, fasts, exposure, excessive penances of many kinds, the Hindoo cultus of quietude, and mental absorption in vacuity and even one pedagogic motive of a cultus of the spiritual and supernatural, e. g. in the symposium of Plato, are all designed as palliatives and alteratives of degraded love. Change of heart before pubescent years, there are several scientific reasons for thinking means precocity and forcing. The age signalized by the ancient Greeks as that at which the study of what was comprehensively called music should begin, the age at which Roman guardianship ended, as explained by Sir Henry Maine, at which boys are confirmed in the modern Greek, Catholic, Lutheran and Episcopal churches, and at which the child Jesus entered the temple, is as early as any child ought consciously to go about his heavenly Father’s business. If children are instructed in the language of these sentiments too early, the all-sided deepening and broadening of soul and of conscience which should come with adolescent years will be incomplete. Revival sermon which the writer has heard preached to very young children are analogous to exhorting them to imagine themselves married people and inculcating the duties of that relation. It is because this precept is violated in the intemperate haste for immediate results that we may so often hear childish sentiments and puerile expressions so strangely mingled in the religious experience of otherwise apparently mature adults, which remind one of a male voice constantly modulating from manly tones into boyish falsetto. Some one has said of very early risers that they were apt to be conceited all the forenoon, and stupid and uninteresting all the afternoon and evening. So, too, precocious infant Christians are apt to be conceited and full of pious affectations all the forenoon of life, and thereafter commonplace enough in their religious life. One is reminded of Aristotle’s theory of Catharsis, according to which the soul was purged of strong or bad passions by listening to vivid representations of them on the stage. So, by the forcing method we deprecate, the soul is given just enough religious stimulus to act as an inoculation against deeper and more serious interest later. At this age the prescription of a series of strong feelings is very apt to cause attention to concentrate on physical states in a way which may culminate in the increased activity of the passional nature, or may induce that sort of self-flirtation which is expressed in morbid love of autobiographic confessional outpourings, or may issue in the supreme selfishness of incipient and often unsuspected hysteria. Those who are led to Christ normally by obeying conscience are not apt to endanger the foundation of their moral character if they should later chance to doubt the doctrine of verbal inspiration or some of the miracles, or even get confused about the Trinity, because their religious nature is not built on the sand. The art of leading young men through college without ennobling or enlarging any of the religious notions of childhood is anti-pedagogic and unworthy philosophy, and is to leave men puerile in the highest department of their nature.

    At the age we have indicated, when the young man instinctively takes the control of himself into his own hands, previous ethico-religious training should be brought to a focus and given a personal application, which, to be most effective, should probably, in most cases, be according to the creed of the parent. It is a serious and solemn epoch, and ought to be fittingly signalised. Morality now needs religion, which cannot have affected life much before. Now duties should be recognised as divine commands, for the strongest motives, natural and supernatural, are needed for the regulation of the new impulses, passions, desires, half insights, ambitions, etc., which come to the American temperament so suddenly before the methods of self-regulation can become established and operative. Now a deep personal sense of purity and impurity are first possible, and indeed inevitable, and this natural moral tension is a great opportunity to the religious teacher. A serious sense of God within, and of responsibilities which transcend this life as they do the adolescent’s power of comprehension; a feeling for duties deepened by a realization and experience of their conflict such as some have thought to be the origin of religion itself in the soul—these, too, are elements of the “theology of the heart” revealed at this age to every serious youth, but to the judicious emphasis and utilization of which, the teacher should lend his consummate skill. While special lines of interest leading to a career must be now well grounded, there must also be a culture of the ideal and an absorption in general views and remote and universal ends. If all that is pure and disciplining in what is transcendent, whether to the Christian believers, the poet or the philosopher, had even been devised only for the better regulation of human energies set free at this age, but not yet fully defined or realized, they would still have a most potent justification on this ground alone. At any rate, what is often wasted in excess here, if husbanded, ripens into philosophy, the larger love to the world, the true and the good, in a sense not unlike that in the symposium of Plato.

    Finally, there is danger lest this change, as prescribed and formulated by the church, be too sudden and violent, and the capital of moral force which should last a lifetime be consumed in a brief, convulsive effort, like the sudden running down of a watch if its spring be broken. Piety is naturally the slowest because the most comprehensive kind of growth. Quetelet says that the measure of the state of civilization in a nation is the way in which it achieves its revolutions. As it becomes truly civilized, revolutions cease to be sudden and violent, and become gradually transitory and without abrupt change. The same is true of that individual crisis which psycho-physiology describes as adolescence, and of which theology formulates a higher spiritual potency as conversion. The adolescent period lasts ten years or more, during all of which development of every sort is very rapid and constant, and it is, as already remarked, intemperate haste for immediate results, of reaping without sowing, which has made so many regard change of heart as an instantaneous conquest rather than as a growth, and persistently to forget that there is something of importance before and after it in healthful religious experience.

    [Footnote 1: See author’s Boy Life, in Massachusetts Country Town Forty Years Ago. Pedagogical Seminary, June, 1906, vol. 13, pp. 192-207.]

    [Footnote 2: Those interested in school statistics may value the record kept by a Swabian schoolmaster named Hauberle, extending over fifty-one years and seven months’ experience as a teacher, as follows: 911,527 blows with a cane; 124,010 with a rod; 20,939 with a ruler; 136,715 with the hand; 19,295 over the mouth; 7,905 boxes on the ear; 1,115,800 snaps on the head; 22,763 nota benes with Bible, catechism, hymnbook and grammar; 777 times boys had to kneel on peas; 613 times on triangular blocks of wand; 5,001 had to carry a timber mare; and, 7,701 hold the rod high; the last two being punishments of his own invention. Of the blows with the cane 800,000 were for Latin vowels, and 76,000 of those with the rod for Bible verses and hymns. He used a scolding vocabulary of over 3,000 terms, of which one-third were of his own invention.]

    [Footnote 3: For most recent and elaborate study of children’s lies see Zeitschrift für pädagogische Psychologie, Pathologie und Hygiene, Juli, 1905. Jahrgang 7, Heft 3, pp. 177-205.]

    * * * * *

    Extract from Youth: Its Education, Regimen, and Hygiene, by G. Stanley Hall

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  • THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS

    THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS

    THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS

    Equal opportunities of higher education now open—Brings new dangers to women—Ineradicable sex differences begin at puberty, when the sexes should and do diverge—Different interests—Sex tension—Girls more mature than boys at the same age—Radical psychic and physiological differences between the sexes—The bachelor women—Needed reconstruction—Food—Sleep—Regimen—Manners—Religion—Regularity—The topics for a girls’ curriculum—The eternal womanly.

    The long battle of woman and her friends for equal educational and other opportunities is essentially won all along the line. Her academic achievements have forced conservative minds to admit that her intellect is not inferior to that of man. The old cloistral seclusion and exclusion is forever gone and new ideals are arising. It has been a noble movement and is a necessary first stage of woman’s emancipation. The caricatured maidens “as beautiful as an angel but as silly as a goose” who come from the kitchen to the husband’s study to ask how much is two times two, and are told it is four for a man and three for a woman, and go back with a happy “Thank you, my dear”; those who love to be called baby, and appeal to instincts half parental in their lovers and husbands; those who find all the sphere they desire in a doll’s house, like Nora’s, and are content to be men’s pets; whose ideal is the clinging vine, and who take no interest in the field where their husbands struggle, will perhaps soon survive only as a diminishing remainder. Marriages do still occur where woman’s ignorance and helplessness seem to be the chief charm to men, and may be happy, but such cases are no farther from the present ideal and tendency on the one hand than on the other are those which consist in intellectual partnerships, in which there is no segregation of interests but which are devoted throughout to joint work or enjoyment.

    A typical contemporary writer[1] thinks the question whether a girl shall receive a college education is very like the same question for boys. Even if the four K’s, Kirche, Kinder, Kuchen, and Kleider (which may be translated by the four C’s, Church, Children, Cooking, and Clothes), are her vocation, college may help her. The best training for a young woman is not the old college course that has proven unfit for young men. Most college men look forward to a professional training as few women do. The latter have often greater sympathy, readiness of memory, patience with technic, skill in literature and language, but lack originality, are not attracted by unsolved problems, are less motor-minded; but their training is just as serious and important as that of men. The best results are where the sexes are brought closer together, because their separation generally emphasizes for girls the technical training for the profession of womanhood. With girls, literature and language take precedence over science; expression stands higher than action; the scholarship may be superior, but is not effective; the educated woman “is likely to master technic rather than art; method, rather than substance. She may know a good deal, but she can do nothing.” In most separate colleges for women, old traditions are more prevalent than in colleges for men. In the annex system, she does not get the best of the institution. By the coeducation method, “young men are more earnest, better in manners and morals, and in all ways more civilized than under monastic conditions. The women do more work in a more natural way, with better perspective and with saner incentives than when isolated from the influence of the society of men. There is less silliness and folly where a man is not a novelty. In coeducational institutions of high standards, frivolous conduct or scandals of any form are rarely known. The responsibility for decorum is thrown from the school to the woman, and the woman rises to the responsibility.” The character of college work has not been lowered but raised by coeducation, despite the fact that most of the new, small, weak colleges are coeducational. Social strain, Jordan thinks, is easily regulated, and the dormitory system is on the whole best, because the college atmosphere is highly prized. The reasons for the present reaction against coeducation are ascribed partly to the dislike of the idle boy to have girls excel him and see his failures, or because rowdyish tendencies are checked by the presence of women. Some think that girls do not help athletics; that men count for most because they are more apt to be heard from later; but the most serious new argument is the fear that woman’s standards and amateurishness will take the place of specialization. Women take up higher education because they like it; men because their careers depend upon it. Hence their studies are more objective and face the world as it is. In college the women do as well as men, but not in the university. The half-educated woman as a social factor has produced many soft lecture courses and cheap books. This is an argument for the higher education of the sex. Finally, Jordan insists that coeducation leads to marriage, and he believes that its best basis is common interest and intellectual friendship.

    From the available data it seems, however, that the more scholastic the education of women, the fewer children and the harder, more dangerous, and more dreaded is parturition, and the less the ability to nurse children. Not intelligence, but education by present man-made ways, is inversely as fecundity. The sooner and the more clearly this is recognized as a universal rule, not, of course, without many notable and much vaunted exceptions, the better for our civilization. For one, I plead with no whit less earnestness and conviction than any of the feminists, and indeed with more fervor because on nearly all their grounds and also on others, for the higher education of women, and would welcome them to every opportunity available to men if they can not do better; but I would open to their election another education, which every competent judge would pronounce more favorable to motherhood, under the influence of female principals who do not publicly say that it is “not desirable” that women students should study motherhood, because they do not know whether they will marry; who encourage them to elect “no special subjects because they are women,” and who think infant psychology “foolish.”

    Various interesting experiments in coeducation are now being made in England.[2] Some are whole-hearted and encourage the girls to do almost everything that the boys do in both study and play. There are girl prefects; cricket teams are formed sometimes of both sexes, but often the sexes matched against each other; one play-yard, a dual staff of teachers, and friendships between the boys and girls are not tabooed, etc. In other schools the sexes meet perhaps in recitation only, have separate rooms for study, entrances, play-grounds, and their relations are otherwise restricted. The opinion of English writers generally favors coeducation up to about the beginning of the teens, and from there on views are more divided. It is admitted that, if there is a very great preponderance of either sex over the other, the latter is likely to lose its characteristic qualities, and something of this occurs where the average age of one sex is distinctly greater than that of the other. On the other hand, several urge that, where age and numbers are equal, each sex is more inclined to develop the best qualities peculiar to itself in the presence of the other.

    Some girls are no doubt far fitter for boys’ studies and men’s careers than others. Coeducation, too, generally means far more assimilation of girls’ to boys’ ways and work than conversely. Many people believe that girls either gain or are more affected by coeducation, especially in the upper grades, than boys. It is interesting, however, to observe the differences that still persist. Certain games, like football and boxing, girls can not play; they do not fight; they are not flogged or caned as English boys are when their bad marks foot up beyond a certain aggregate; girls are more prone to cliques; their punishments must be in appeals to school sentiment, to which they are exceedingly sensitive; it is hard for them to bear defeat in games with the same dignity and unruffled temper as boys; it is harder for them to accept the school standards of honor that condemn the tell-tale as a sneak, although they soon learn this. They may be a little in danger of being roughened by boyish ways and especially by the crude and unique language, almost a dialect in itself, prevalent among schoolboys. Girls are far more prone to overdo; boys are persistingly lazy and idle. Girls are content to sit and have the subject-matter pumped into them by recitations, etc., and to merely accept, while boys are more inspired by being told to do things and make tests and experiments. In this, girls are often quite at sea. One writer speaks of a certain feminine obliquity, but hastens to say that girls in these schools soon accept its code of honor. It is urged, too, that singing classes the voices of each sex are better in quality for the presence of the other. In many topics of all kinds boys and girls are interested in different aspects of the same theme, and therefore the work is broadened. In manual training, girls excel in all artistic work; boys, in carpentry. Girls can be made not only less noxiously sentimental and impulsive, but their conduct tends to become more thoughtful; they can be made to feel responsibility for bestowing their praise aright and thus influencing the tone of the school. Calamitous as it world be for the education of boys beyond a certain age to be entrusted entirely or chiefly to women, it would be less so for that of girls to be given entirely to men. Perhaps the great women teachers, whose life and work have made them a power with girls comparable to that of Arnold and Thring with boys, are dying out. Very likely economic motives are too dominant for this problem to be settled on its merits only. Finally, several writers mention the increased healthfulness of moral tone. The vices that infest boys’ schools, which Arnold thought a quantity constantly changing with every class, are diminished. Healthful thoughts of sex, less subterranean and base imaginings on the one hand, and less gushy sentimentality on the other, are favored. For either sex to be a copy of the other is to be weakened, and each comes normally to respect more and to prefer its own sex.

    Not to pursue this subject further here, it is probable that many of the causes for the facts set forth are very different and some of them almost diametrically opposite in the two sexes. Hard as it is per se, it is after all a comparatively easy matter to educate boys. They are less peculiarly responsive in mental tone to the physical and psychic environment, tend more strongly and early to special interests, and react more vigorously against the obnoxious elements of their surroundings. This is truest of the higher education, and more so in proportion as the tendencies of the age are toward special and vocational training. Woman, as we saw, in every fiber of her soul and body is a more generic creature than man, nearer to the race, and demands more and more with advancing age an education that is essentially liberal and humanistic. This is progressively hard when the sexes differentiate in the higher grades. Moreover, nature decrees that with advancing civilization the sexes shall not approximate, but differentiate, and we shall probably be obliged to carry sex distinctions, at least of method, into many if not most of the topics of the higher education. Now that woman has by general consent attained the right to the best that man has, she must seek a training that fits her own nature as well or better. So long as she strives to be manlike she will be inferior and a pinchbeck imitation, but she must develop a new sphere that shall be like the rich field of the cloth of gold for the best instincts of her nature.

    Divergence is most marked and sudden in the pubescent period—in the early teens. At this age, by almost world-wide consent, boys and girls separate for a time, and lead their lives during this most critical period more or less apart, at least for a few years, until the ferment of mind and body which results in maturity of functions then born and culminating in nubility, has done its work. The family and the home abundantly recognize this tendency. At twelve or fourteen, brothers and sisters develop a life more independent of each other than before. Their home occupations differ as do their plays, games, tastes. History, anthropology, and sociology, a well as home life, abundantly illustrate this. This is normal and biological. What our schools and other institutions should do, is not to obliterate these differences but to make boys more manly and girls more womanly. We should respect the law of sexual differences, and not forget that motherhood is a very different thing from fatherhood. Neither sex should copy nor set patterns to the other, but all parts should be played harmoniously and clearly in the great sex symphony.

    I have here less to say against coeducation in college, still less in university grades after the maturity which comes at eighteen or twenty has been achieved; but it is high time to ask ourselves whether the theory and practise of identical coeducation, especially in the high school, which has lately been carried to a greater extreme in this country than the rest of the world recognizes, has not brought certain grave dangers, and whether it does not interfere with the natural differentiations seen everywhere else. I recognize, of course, the great argument of economy. Indeed, we should save money and effort could we unite churches of not too diverse creeds. We could thus give better preaching, music, improve the edifice, etc. I am by no means ready to advocate the radical abolition of coeducation, but we can already sum up in a rough, brief way our account of profit and loss with it. On the one hand, no doubt each sex develops some of its own best qualities best in the presence of the other, but the question still remains, how much, when, and in what way, identical coeducation secures this end?

    As has been said, girls and boys are often interested in different aspects of the same topic, and this may have a tendency to broaden the view-point of both and bring it into sympathy with that of the other, but the question still remains whether one be not too much attracted to the sphere of the other, especially girls to that of boys. No doubt some girls become a little less gushy, their conduct more thoughtful, and their sense of responsibility greater; for one of woman’s great functions, which is that of bestowing praise aright, is increased. There is also much evidence that certain boys’ vices are mitigated; they are made more urbane and their thoughts of sex made more healthful. In some respects boys are stimulated to good scholarship by girls, who in many schools and topics excel them. We should ask, however, What is nature’s way at this stage of life? Whether boys, in order to be well virified later, ought not to be so boisterous and even rough as to be at times unfit companions for girls; or whether, on the other hand, girls to be best matured ought not to have their sentimental periods of instability, especially when we venture to raise the question, whether for a girl in the early teens, when her health for her whole life depends upon normalizing the lunar month, there is not something unhygienic, unnatural, not to say a little monstrous, in school associations with boys when she must suppress and conceal her feelings and instinctive promptings at those times which suggest withdrawing, to let nature do its beautiful work of inflorescence. It is a sacred time of reverent exemption from the hard struggle of existence in the world and from mental effort in the school. Medical specialists, many of the best of whom now insist that through this period she should be, as it were, “turned out to grass,” or should lie fallow, so far as intellectual efforts go, one-fourth the time, no doubt often go too far, but their unanimous voice should not entirely be disregarded.

    It is not this, however, that I have chiefly in mind here, but the effects of too familiar relations and, especially, of the identical work, treatment, and environment of the modern school.

    We have now at least eight good and independent statistical studies which show that the ideals of boys from ten years on are almost always those of their own sex, while girls’ ideals are increasingly of the opposite sex, or those of men. That the ideals of pubescent girls are not found in the great and noble women of the world or in their literature, but more and more in men, suggests a divorce between the ideals adopted and the line of life best suited to the interests of the race. We are not furnished in our public schools with adequate womanly ideals in history or literature. The new love of freedom which women have lately felt inclines girls to abandon the home for the office. “It surely can hardly be called an ideal education for women that permits eighteen out of one hundred college girls to state boldly that they would rather be men than women.” More than one-half of the schoolgirls in these censuses choose male ideals, as if those of femininity are disintegrating. A recent writer,[3] in view of this fact, states that “unless there is a change of trend, we shall soon have a female sex without a female character.” In the progressive numerical feminization of our schools most teachers, perhaps naturally and necessarily, have more or less masculine ideals, and this does not encourage the development of those that constitute the glory of womanhood. “At every age from eight to sixteen, girls named from three to twenty more ideals than boys.” “These facts indicate a condition of diffused interests and lack of clear-cut purposes and a need of integration.”

    When we turn to boys the case is different. In most public high schools girls preponderate, especially in the upper classes, and in many of them the boys that remain are practically in a girls’ school, sometimes taught chiefly, if not solely, by women teachers at an age when strong men should be in control more than at any other period of life. Boys need a different discipline and moral regimen and atmosphere. They also need a different method of work. Girls excel them in learning and memorization, accepting studies upon suggestion or authority, but are often quite at sea when set to make tests and experiments that give individuality and a chance for self-expression, which is one of the best things in boyhood. Girls preponderate in our overgrown high school Latin and algebra, because custom and tradition and, perhaps, advice incline them to it. They preponderate in English and history classes more often, let us hope, from inner inclination. The boy sooner grows restless in a curriculum where form takes precedence over content. He revolts at much method with meager matter. He craves utility, and when all these instincts are denied, without knowing what is the matter, he drops out of school, when with robust tone and with a truly boy life, such as prevails at Harrow, Eton, and Rugby, he would have fought it through and have done well. This feminization of the school spirit, discipline, and personnel is bad for boys. Of course, on the whole, perhaps, they are made more gentlemanly, more at ease, their manners improved, and all this to a woman teacher seems excellent, but something is the matter with the boy in early teens who can be truly called “a perfect gentleman.” That should come later, when the brute and animal element have had opportunity to work themselves off in a healthful normal way. They still have football to themselves, and are the majority perhaps in chemistry, and sometimes in physics, but there is danger of a settled eviration. The segregation, which even some of our schools are now attempting, is always in some degree necessary for full and complete development. Just as the boys’ language is apt to creep into that of the girl, so girls’ interests, ways, standards and tastes, which are crude at this age, sometimes attract boys out of their orbit. While some differences are emphasized by contact, others are compromised. Boys tend to grow content with mechanical, memorized work and, excelling on the lines of girls’ qualities, fail to develop those of their own. There is a little charm and bloom rubbed off the ideal of girlhood by close contact, and boyhood seems less ideal to girls at close range. In place of the mystic attraction of the other sex that has inspired so much that is best in the world, familiar comradeship brings a little disenchantment. The impulse to be at one’s best in the presence of the other sex prows lax and sex tension remits, and each comes to feel itself seen through, so that there is less motive to indulge in the ideal conduct which such motives inspire, because the call for it is incessant. This disillusioning weakens the motivation to marriage sometimes on both sides, when girls grow careless in their dress and too negligent in their manners, one of the best schools of woman’s morals; and when boys lose all restraints which the presence of girls usually enforces, there is a subtle deterioration. Thus, I believe, although of course it is impossible to prove, that this is one of the factors of a decreasing percentage of marriage among educated young men and women.

    At eighteen or twenty the girl normally reaches a stage of first maturity when her ideas of life are amazingly keen and true; when, if her body is developed, she can endure a great deal; when she is nearest, perhaps, the ideal of feminine beauty and perfection. Of this we saw illustrations in Chapter VIII. In our environment, however, there is a little danger that this age once well past there will slowly arise a slight sense of aimlessness or lassitude, unrest, uneasiness, as if one were almost unconsciously feeling along the wall for a door to which the key was not at hand. Thus some lose their bloom and, yielding to the great danger of young womanhood, slowly lapse to a anxious state of expectancy, or desire something not within their reach, and so the diathesis of restlessness slowly supervenes. The best thing about college life for girls is, perhaps, that it postpones this incipient disappointment; but it is a little pathetic to me to read, as I have lately done, the class letters of hundreds of girl graduates, out of college one, two, or three years, turning a little to art, music, travel, teaching, charity work, one after the other, or trying to find something to which they can devote themselves, some cause, movement, occupation, where their capacity for altruism and self-sacrifice can find a field. The tension is almost imperceptible, perhaps quite unconscious. It is everywhere overborne by a keen interest in life, by a desire to know the world at first hand, while susceptibilities are at their height. The apple of intelligence has been plucked at perhaps a little too great cost of health. The purely mental has not been quite sufficiently kept back. The girl wishes to know a good deal more of the world and perfect her own personality, and would not marry, although every cell of her body and every unconscious impulse points to just that end. Soon, it may be in five or ten years or more, the complexion of ill health is in these notes, or else life has been adjusted to independence and self-support. Many of these bachelor women are magnificent in mind and body, but they lack wifehood and yet more—motherhood.

    In fine, we should use these facts as a stimulus to ask more searchingly the question whether the present system of higher education for both sexes is not lacking in some very essential elements, and if so what these are. Indeed, considering the facts that in our social system man makes the advances and that woman is by nature more prone than man to domesticity and parenthood, it is not impossible that men’s colleges do more to unfit for these than do those for women. One cause may be moral. Ethics used to be taught as a practical power for life and reënforced by religious motives. Now it is theoretical and speculative and too often led captive by metaphysical and epistemological speculations. Sometimes girls work or worry more over studies and ideals than is good for their constitution, and boys grow idle and indifferent, and this proverbially tends to bad habits. Perhaps fitting for college has been too hard at the critical age of about eighteen, and requirements of honest, persevering work during college years too little enforced, or grown irksome by physiological reaction of lassitude from the strain of fitting and entering. Again, girls mature earlier than boys; and the latter who have been educated with them tend to certain elements of maturity and completeness too early in life, and their growth period is shortened or its momentum lessened by an atmosphere of femininity. Something is clearly wrong, and more so here than we have at present any reason to think is the case among the academic male or female youth of other lands. To see and admit that there is an evil very real, deep, exceedingly difficult and complex in its causes, but grave and demanding a careful reconsideration of current educational ideas and practises, is the first step; and this every thoughtful and well-informed mind, I believe, must now take.

    It is utterly impossible without injury to hold girls to the same standards of conduct, regularity, severe moral accountability, and strenuous mental work that boys need. The privileges and immunities of her sex are inveterate, and with these the American girl in the middle teens fairly tingles with a new-born consciousness. Already she occasionally asserts herself in the public high school against a male teacher or principal who seeks to enforce discipline by methods boys respect, in a way that suggests that the time is at hand when popularity with her sex will be as necessary in a successful teacher as it is in the pulpit. In these interesting oases where girl sentiment has made itself felt in school it has generally carried parents, committeemen, the press, and public sentiment before it, and has already made a precious little list of martyrs whom, were I an educational pope, I would promptly canonize. The progressive feminization of secondary education works its subtle demoralization on the male teachers who remain. Public sentiment would sustain them in many parental exactions with boys which it disallows in mixed classes. It is hard, too, for male principals of schools with only female teachers not to suffer some deterioration in the moral tone of their virility and to lose in the power to cope successfully with men. Not only is this often confessed and deplored, but the incessant compromises the best male teachers of mixed classes must make with their pedagogic convictions in both teaching and discipline make the profession less attractive to manly men of large caliber and of sound fiber. Again, the recent rapid increase of girls, the percentage of which to population in high schools has in many communities doubled in but little more than a decade, almost necessarily involves a decline in the average quality of girls, perhaps as much greater for them as compared with boys as their increase has been greater. When but few were found in these institutions they were usually picked girls with superior tastes and ability, but now the average girl of the rank and file is, despite advanced standard, of admission, of an order natively lower. From this deterioration both boys and teachers suffer, even though the greatest good for the greatest number may be enhanced. Once more, it is generally admitted that girls in good boarding-schools, where evenings, food, and regimen are controlled, are in better health than day pupils with social, church, and domestic duties and perhaps worries to which boys are less subject. This is the nascent stage of periodicity to the slow normalization of which, during these few critical years, everything that interferes should yield. Some kind of tacit recognition of this is indispensable, but in mixed classes every form of such concession is baffling and demoralizing to boys.

    The women who really achieve the higher culture should make it their “cause” or “mission” to work out the new humanistic or liberal education which the old college claimed to stand for and which now needs radical reconstruction to meet the demands of modern life. In science they should aim to restore the humanistic elements of its history, biography, its popular features at their best, and its applications in all the more non-technical fields, as described in Chapter XII, and feel responsibility not to let the moral, religious, and poetic aspects of nature be lost in utilities. Woman should be true to her generic nature and take her stand against all premature specialization, and when the Zeitgeist [Spirit of the Times] insists on specialized training for occupative pursuits without waiting for broad foundations to be laid, she should resist all these influences that make for psychological precocity. Das Ewig-Weibliche [The eternal womanly] is no iridescent fiction but a very definable reality, and means perennial youth. It means that woman at her best never outgrows adolescence as man does, but lingers in, magnifies and glorifies this culminating stage of life with its all-sided interests, its convertibility of emotions, its enthusiasm, and zest for all that is good, beautiful, true, and heroic. This constitutes her freshness and charm, even in age, and makes her by nature more humanistic than man, more sympathetic and appreciative. It is not chiefly the 70,000 superfluous Massachusetts women of the last census, but representatives of every class and age in the 4,000 women’s clubs of this country that now find some leisure for general culture in all fields, and in which most of them no doubt surpass their husbands. Those who still say that men do not like women to be their mental superiors and that no man was ever won by the attraction of intellect, on the one hand, and those who urge that women really want husbands to be their intellectual superiors, both misapprehend. The male in all the orders of life is the agent of variation and tends by nature to expertness and specialisation, without which his individuality is incomplete. In his chosen line he would lead and be authoritative, and he rarely seeks partnership in it in marriage. This is no subjection, but woman instinctively respects and even reveres, and perhaps educated woman coming to demand, it in the man of her whole-hearted choice. This granted, man was never more plastic to woman’s great work of creating in him all the wide range of secondary sex qualities which constitute his essential manhood. In all this, the pedagogic fathers we teach in the history of education are most of them about as luminous and obsolete as is patristics for the religious teacher, or as methods of other countries are coming to be in solving our own peculiar pedagogic problems. The relation of the academically trained sexes is faintly typified by that of the ideal college to the ideal university, professional or technical school. This is the harmony of counterparts and constitutes the best basis of psychic amphimixis. For the reinstallation of the humanistic college, the time has come when cultivated woman ought to come forward and render vital aid. If she does so and helps to evolve a high school and an A.B. course that is truly liberal, it will not only fit her nature and needs far better than anything now existing, but young men at the humanistic stage of their own education will seek to profit by it, and she will thus repay her debt to man in the past by aiding him to de-universitize the college and to rescue secondary education from its gravest dangers.

    But even should all this be done, coeducation would by means be thus justified. If adolescent boys normally pass through a generalized or even feminized stage of psychic development in which they are peculiarly plastic to the guidance of older women who have such rare insight into their nature, such infinite sympathy and patience with all the symptoms of their storm and stress metamorphosis, when they seek everything by turns and nothing long, and if young men will forever afterward understand woman’s nature better for living out more fully this stage of their lives and will fail to do so if it is abridged or dwarfed, it by no means follows that intimate daily and class-room association with girls of their own age is necessary or best. The danger of this is that the boy’s instinct to assert his own manhood will thus be made premature and excessive, that he will react against general culture, in the capacity for which girls, who are older than boys at the same age, naturally excel them. Companionship and comparisons incline him to take premature refuge in some one talent that emphasizes his psycho-sexual difference too soon. Again, he is farther from nubile maturity than the girl classmate of his own age, and coeducation and marriage between them are prone to violate the important physiological law of disparity that requires the husband to be some years the wife’s senior, both in their own interests, as maturity begins to decline to age, and in those of their offspring. Thus the young man with his years of restraint and probation ahead, and his inflammable desires, is best removed from the half-conscious cerebrations about wedlock, inevitably more insistent with constant girl companionship. If he resists this during all the years of his apprenticeship, he grows more immune and inhibitive of it when its proper hour arrives, and perhaps becomes in soul a bachelor before his time. In this side of his nature he is forever incommensurate with and unintelligible to woman, be she even teacher, sister, or mother. Better some risk of gross thoughts and even acts, to which phylogeny and recapitulation so strongly incline him, than this subtle eviration. But if the boy is unduly repelled from the sphere of girls’ interests, the girl is in some danger of being unduly drawn to his, and, as we saw above, of forgetting some of the ideals of her own sex. Riper in mind and body than her male classmate, and often excelling him in the capacity of acquisition, nearer the age of her full maturity than he to his, he seems a little too crude and callow to fulfil the ideals of manhood normal to her age which point to older and riper men. In all that makes sexual attraction best, a classmate of her own age is too undeveloped, and so she often suffers mute disenchantment, and even if engagement be dreamed of, it would be, on her part, with unconscious reservations if not with some conscious renunciation of ideals. Thus the boy is correct in feeling himself understood and seen through by his girl classmates to a degree that is sometimes quite distasteful to him, while the girl finds herself misunderstood by and disappointed in men. Boys arrive at the humanistic stage of culture later than girls and pass it sooner; and to find them already there and with their greater aptitude excelling him, is not an inviting situation, and so he is tempted to abridge or cut it out and to hasten on and be mature and professional before his time, for thus he gravitates toward his normal relation to her sex of expert mastership on some bread- or fame-winning line. Of course, these influences are not patent, demonstrable by experiment, or measurable by statistics; but I have come to believe that, like many other facts and laws, they have a reality and a dominance that is all-pervasive and inescapable, and that they will ultimately prevail over economic motives and traditions.

    To be a true woman means to be yet more mother than wife. The madonna conception expresses man’s highest comprehension of woman’s real nature. Sexual relations are brief, but love and care of offspring are long. The elimination of maternity is one of the great calamities, if not diseases, of our age. Marholm[4] points out at length how art again to-day gives woman a waspish waist with no abdomen, as if to carefully score away every trace of her mission; usually with no child in her arms or even in sight; a mere figurine, calculated perhaps to entice, but not to bear; incidentally degrading the artist who depicts her to a fashion-plate painter, perhaps with suggestions of the arts of toilet, cosmetics, and coquetry, as if to promote decadent reaction to decadent stimuli. As in the Munchausen tale, the wolf slowly ate the running nag from behind until he found himself in the harness, so in the disoriented woman the mistress, virtuous and otherwise, is slowly supplanting the mother. Please she must, even though she can not admire, and can so easily despise men who can not lead her, although she become thereby lax and vapid.

    The more exhausted men become, whether by overwork, unnatural city life, alcohol, recrudescent polygamic inclinations, exclusive devotion to greed and pelf; whether they become weak, stooping, blear-eyed, bald-headed, bow-legged, thin-shanked, or gross, coarse, barbaric, and bestial, the more they lose the power to lead woman or to arouse her nature, which is essentially passive. Thus her perversions are his fault. Man, before he lost the soil and piety, was not only her protector and provider, but her priest. He not only supported and defended, but inspired the souls of women, so admirably calculated to receive and elaborate suggestions, but not to originate them. In their inmost souls even young girls often experience disenchantment, find men little and no heroes, and so cease to revere and begin to think stupidly of them as they think coarsely of her. Sometimes the girlish conceptions of men are too romantic and exalted; often the intimacy of school and college wear off a charm, while man must not forget that to-day he too often fails to realize the just and legitimate expectations and ideals of women. If women confide themselves, body and soul, less to him than he desires, it is not she, but he, who is often chiefly to blame. Indeed, in some psychic respects, it seems as if in human society the processes of subordinating the male to the female, carried so far in some of the animal species, had already begun. If he is not worshiped as formerly, it is because he is less worshipful or more effeminate, less vigorous and less able to excite and retain the great love of true, not to say great, women. Where marriage and maternity are of less supreme interest to an increasing number of women, there are various results, the chief of which are as follows:

    1. Women grow dollish; sink more or less consciously to man’s level; gratify his desires and even his selfish caprices, but exact in return luxury and display, growing vain as he grows sordid; thus, while submitting, conquering, and tyrannizing over him, content with present worldly pleasure, unmindful of the past, the future, or the above. This may react to intersexual antagonism until man comes to hate woman as a witch, or, as in the days of celibacy, consider sex a wile of the devil. Along these lines even the stage is beginning to represent the tragedies of life.

    2. The disappointed woman in whom something is dying comes to assert her own ego and more or less consciously to make it an end, aiming to possess and realize herself fully rather than to transmit. Despairing of herself as a woman, she asserts her lower rights in the place of her one great right to be loved. The desire for love may be transmuted into the desire for knowledge, or outward achievement become a substitute for inner content. Failing to respect herself as a productive organism, she gives vent to personal solutions; seeks independence; comes to know very plainly what she wants; perhaps becomes intellectually emancipated, and substitutes science for religion, or the doctor for the priest, with the all-sided impressionability characteristic of her sex which, when cultivated, is so like an awakened child. She perhaps even affects mannish ways, unconsciously copying from those not most manly, or comes to feel that she has been robbed of something; competes with men, but sometimes where they are most sordid, brutish, and strongest; always expecting, but never finding, she turns successively to art, science, literature, and reforms; craves especially work that she can not do; and seeks stimuli for feelings which have never found their legitimate expression.

    3. Another type, truer to woman’s nature, subordinates self; goes beyond personal happiness; adopts the motto of self-immolation; enters a life of service, denial, and perhaps mortification, like the Countess Schimmelmann; and perhaps becomes a devotee, a saint, and, if need be, a martyr, but all with modesty, humility, and with a shrinking from publicity.

    In our civilization, I believe that bright girls of good environment of eighteen or nineteen, or even seventeen, have already reached the above-mentioned peculiar stage of first maturity, when they see the world at first hand, when the senses are at their very best, their susceptibilities and their insights the keenest, tension at its highest, plasticity and all-sided interests most developed, and their whole psychic soil richest and rankest and sprouting everywhere with the tender shoots of everything both good and bad. Some such—Stella Klive, Mary MacLane, Hilma Strandberg, Marie Bashkirtseff—have been veritable epics upon woman’s nature; have revealed the characterlessness normal to the prenubile period in which everything is kept tentative and plastic, and where life seems to have least unity, aim, or purpose. By and by perhaps they will see in all their scrappy past, if not order and coherence, a justification, and then alone will they realize that life is governed by motives deeper than those which are conscious or even personal. This is the age when, if ever, no girl should be compelled. It is the experiences of this age, never entirely obliterated in women, that enable them to take adolescent boys seriously, as men can rarely do, in whom these experiences are more limited in range though no less intense. It is this stage in woman which is most unintelligible to man and even unrealized to herself. It is the echoes from it that make vast numbers of mothers pursue the various branches of culture, often half secretly, to maintain their position with their college sons and daughters, with their husbands, or with society.

    But in a very few years, I believe even in the early twenties with American girls, along with rapidly in creasing development of capacity there is also observable the beginnings of loss and deterioration. Unless marriage comes there is lassitude, subtle symptoms of invalidism, the germs of a rather aimless dissatisfaction with life, a little less interest, curiosity, and courage, certain forms of self-pampering, the resolution to be happy, though at too great cost; and thus the clear air of morning begins to haze over and unconsciously she begins to grope. By thirty, she is perhaps goaded into more or less sourness; has developed more petty self-indulgences; has come to feel a right to happiness almost as passionately as the men of the French Revolution and as the women in their late movement for enfranchisement felt for liberty. Very likely she has turned to other women and entered into innocent Platonic pairing-off relations with some one. There is a little more affectation, playing a rôle, and interest in dress and appearance is either less or more specialized and definite. Perhaps she has already begun to be a seeker who will perhaps find, lose, and seek again. Her temper is modified; there is a slight stagnation of soul; a craving for work or travel; a love of children with flitting thoughts of adopting one, or else aversion to them; an analysis of psychic processes until they are weakened and insight becomes too clear; sense of responsibility without an object; a slight general malaise and a sense that society is a false “margarine” affair; revolt against those that insist that in her child the real value of a woman is revealed. There are alternations between excessive self-respect which demands something almost like adoration of the other sex and self-distrust, with, it may be, many dreameries about forbidden subjects and about the relations of the sexes generally.

    A new danger, the greatest in the history of her sex, now impends, viz., arrest, complacency, and a sense of finality in the most perilous first stage of higher education for girls, when, after all, little has actually yet been won save only the right and opportunity to begin reconstructions, so that now, for the first time in history, methods and matter could be radically transformed to fit the nature and needs of girls. Now most female faculties, trustees, and students are content to ape the newest departures in some one or more male institutions as far as their means or obvious limitations make possible with a servility which is often abject and with rarely ever a thought of any adjustment, save the most superficial, to sex. It is the easiest, and therefore the most common, view typically expressed by the female head of a very successful institution,[5] who was “early convinced in my teaching experience that the methods for mental development for boys and girls applied equally without regard to sex, and I have carried the same thought when I began to develop the physical, and filled my gymnasium with the ordinary appliances used in men’s gymnasia.” There is no sex in mind or in science, it is said, but it might as well be urged that there is no age, and hence that all methods adapted to teaching at different stages of development may be ignored. That woman can do many things as well as man does not prove that she ought to do the same things, or that man-made ways are the best for her. Mrs. Alice Freeman Palmer[6] was right in saying that woman’s education has all the perplexities of that of man, and many more, still more difficult and intricate, of its own.

    Hence, we must conclude that, while women’s colleges have to a great extent solved the problem of special technical training, they have done as yet very little to solve the larger one of the proper education of woman. To assume that the latter question is settled, as is so often done, is disastrous. I have forced myself to go through many elaborate reports of meetings where female education was discussed by those supposed to be competent; but as a rule, not without rare, striking exceptions, these proceedings are smitten with the same sterile and complacent artificiality that was so long the curse of woman’s life. I deem it almost reprehensible that, save a few general statistics, the women’s colleges have not only made no study themselves of the larger problems that impend, but have often maintained a repellent attitude toward others who wished to do so. No one that I know of connected with any of these institutions, where the richest material is going to waste, is making any serious and competent research on lines calculated to bring out the psycho-physiological differences between the sexes and those in authority are either conservative by constitution or else intimidated because public opinion is still liable to panics if discussion here becomes scientific and fundamental, and so tend to keep prudery and the old habit of ignoring everything that pertains to sex in countenance.

    Again, while I sympathize profoundly with the claim of woman for every opportunity which she can fill, and yield to none in appreciation of her ability, I insist that the cardinal defect in the woman’s college is that it is based upon the assumption, implied and often expressed, if not almost universally acknowledged, that girls should primarily be trained to independence and self-support, and that matrimony and motherhood, if it come, will take care of itself, or, as some even urge, is thus best provided for. If these colleges are, as the above statistics indicate, chiefly devoted to the training of those who do not marry, or if they are to educate for celibacy, this is right. These institutions may perhaps come to be training stations of a new-old type, the agamic or even agenic woman, be she nut, maid—old or young—nun, school-teacher, or bachelor woman. I recognize the very great debt the world owes to members of this very diverse class in the past. Some of them have illustrated the very highest ideals of self-sacrifice, service, and devotion in giving to mankind what was meant for husband and children. Some of them belong to the class of superfluous women, and others illustrate the noblest type of altruism and have impoverished the heredity of the world to its loss, as did the monks, who Leslie Stephens thinks contributed to bring about the Dark Ages, because they were the best and most highly selected men of their age and, by withdrawing from the function of heredity and leaving no posterity, caused Europe to degenerate. Modern ideas and training are now doing this, whether for racial weal or woe, can not yet be determined, for many whom nature designed for model mothers.

    The bachelor woman is an interesting illustration of Spencer’s law of the inverse relation of individuation and genesis. The completely developed individual is always a terminal representative in her line of descent. She has taken up and utilized in her own life all that was meant for her descendants, and has so overdrawn her account with heredity that, like every perfectly and completely developed individual, she is also completely sterile. This is the very apotheosis of selfishness from the standpoint of every biological ethics. While the complete man can do and sometimes does this, woman has a far greater and very peculiar power of overdrawing her reserves. First she loses mammary functions, so that should she undertake maternity its functions are incompletely performed because she can not nurse, and this implies defective motherhood and leaves love of the child itself defective and maimed, for the mother who has never nursed can not love or be loved aright by her child. It crops out again in the abnormal or especially incomplete development of her offspring, in the critical years of adolescence, although they may have been healthful before, and a less degree of it perhaps is seen in the diminishing families of cultivated mothers in the one-child system. These women are the intellectual equals and often the superiors of the men they meet; they are very attractive as companions, like Miss Mehr, the university student, in Hauptmann’s “Lonely Lives,” who alienated the young husband from his noble wife; they enjoy all the keen pleasures of intellectual activity; their very look, step, and bearing is free; their mentality makes them good fellows and companionable in all the broad intellectual spheres; to converse with them is as charming and attractive for the best men as was Socrates’s discourse with the accomplished hetaerae; they are at home with the racquet and on the golf links; they are splendid friends; their minds, in all their widening areas of contact, are as attractive as their bodies; and the world owes much and is likely to owe far more to high Platonic friendships of this kind. These women are often in every way magnificent, only they are not mothers, and sometimes have very little wifehood in them, and to attempt to marry them to develop these functions is one of the unique and too frequent tragedies of modern life and literature. Some, though by no means all, of them are functionally castrated; some actively deplore the necessity of child-bearing, and perhaps are parturition phobiacs, and abhor the limitations of married life; they are incensed whenever attention is called to the functions peculiar to their sex, and the careful consideration of problems of the monthly rest are thought “not fit for cultivated women.”

    The slow evolution of this type is probably inevitable as civilization advances, and their training is a noble function. Already it has produced minds of the greatest acumen who have made very valuable contributions to science, and far more is to be expected of them in the future. Indeed, it may be their noble function to lead their sex out into the higher, larger life, and the deeper sense of its true position and function, for which I plead. Hitherto woman has not been able to solve her own problems. While she has been more religious than man, there have been few great women preachers; while she has excelled in teaching young children, there have been few Pestalozzis, or even Froebels; while her invalidism is a complex problem, she has turned to man in her diseases. This is due to the very intuitiveness and naïveté of her nature. But now that her world is so rapidly widening, she is in danger of losing her cue. She must be studied objectively and laboriously as we study children, and partly by men, because their sex must of necessity always remain objective and incommensurate with regard to woman, and therefore more or less theoretical. Again, in these days of intense new interest in feelings, emotions, and sentiments, when many a psychologist now envies and, like Schleiermacher, devoutly wishes he could become a woman, he can never really understand das Ewig-Weibliche, [The eternal womanly] one of the two supreme oracles of guidance in life, because he is a man; and here the cultivated woman must explore the nature of her sex as man can not, and become its mouthpiece. In many of the new fields opening in biology since Darwin, in embryology, botany, the study of children, animals, savages (witness Miss Fletcher), sociological investigation, to say nothing of all the vast body of work that requires painstaking detail, perseverance, and conscience, woman has superior ability, or her very sex gives her peculiar advantages where she is to lead and achieve great things in enlarging the kingdom of man. Perhaps, too, the present training of women may in the end develop those who shall one day attain a true self-knowledge and lead n the next step of devising a scheme that shall fit woman’s nature and needs.

    For the slow evolution of such a scheme, we must first of all distinctly and ostensively invert the present maxim, and educate primarily and chiefly for motherhood, assuming that, if that does not come, single life can best take care of itself, because it is less intricate and lower and its needs far more easily met. While girls may be trained with boys, coeducation should cease at the dawn of adolescence, at least for a season. Great daily intimacy between the sexes in high school, if not in college, tends to rub of the bloom and delicacy which can develop in each, and girls suffer in this respect, let us repeat, far more than boys. The familiar comradeship that ignores sex should be left to the agenic class. To the care of their institutions, we leave with pious and reverent hands the ideals inspired by characters like Hypatia, Madame de Staël, the Misses Cobb, Martineau, Fuller, Bronté, by George Eliot, George Sand, and Mrs. Browning; and while accepting and profiting by what they have done, and acknowledging every claim for their abilities and achievements, prospective mothers must not be allowed to forget a still larger class of ideal women, both in history and literature, from the Holy Mother to Beatrice Clotilda de Vaux, and all those who have inspired men to great deeds, and the choice and far richer anthology of noble mothers.

    We must premise, too, that she must not be petted or pampered with regimen or diet unsuited to her needs; left to find out as best she can, from surreptitious or worthy sources, what she most of all needs to know; must recognize that our present civilization is hard on woman and that she is not yet adjusted to her social environment; that as she was of old accused of having given man the apple of knowledge of good and evil, so he now is liable to a perhaps no less serious indictment of having given her the apple of intellectualism and encouraged her to assume his standards at the expense of health. We must recognize that riches are probably harder on her, on the whole, than poverty, and that poor parents should not labor too hard to exempt her from its wholesome discipline. The expectancy of change so stamped upon her sex by heredity as she advances into maturity must not be perverted into uneasiness or her soul sown with the tares of ambition or fired by intersexual competition and driven on, to quote Dr. R.T. Edes, “by a tireless sort of energy which is a compound of conscience, ambition, and desire to please, plus a peculiar female obstinacy.” If she is bright, she must not be overworked in the school factory, studying in a way which parodies Hood’s “Song of the Shirt”; and if dull or feeble, she should not be worried by preceptresses like a eminent lady principal,[7] who thought girls’ weakness is usually imaginary or laziness, and that doctors are to blame for suggesting illness and for intimating that men will have to choose between a healthy animal and an educated invalid for a wife.

    Without specifying here details or curricula, the ideals that should be striven toward in the intermediate and collegiate education of adolescent girls with the proper presupposition of motherhood, and which are already just as practicable as Abbotsholme[8] or L’Ecole des Roches,[9] may be rudely indicated somewhat as follows.

    First, the ideal institution for the training of girls from twelve or thirteen on into the twenties, when the period most favorable to motherhood begins, should be in the country in the midst of hills, the climbing of which is the best stimulus for heart and lungs, and tends to mental elevation and breadth of view. There should be water for boating, bathing, and skating, aquaria and aquatic life; gardens both for kitchen vegetables and horticulture; forests for their seclusion and religious awe; good roads, walks, and paths that tempt to walking and wheeling: playgrounds and space for golf and tennis, with large covered but unheated space favorable for recreations in weather really too bad for out-of-door life and for those indisposed; and plenty of nooks that permit each to be alone with nature, for this develops inwardness, poise, and character, yet not too great remoteness from the city for a wise utilization of its advantages at intervals. All that can be called environment is even more important for girls than boys, significant as it is for the latter.

    The first aim, which should dominate every item, pedagogic method and matter, should be health—a momentous word that looms up beside holiness, to which it is etymologically akin. The new hygiene of the last few years should be supreme and make these academic areas soared to the cult of the goddess Hygeia. Only those who realize what advances have been made in health culture and know something of its vast new literature can realize all that this means. The health of woman is, as we have seen, if possible even more important for the welfare of the race than that of man; and the influence of her body upon her mind is, in a sense, greater, so that its needs should be supreme and primary. Foods should favor the completest digestion, so that metabolism be on the highest plane. The dietary should be abundant, plain, and varied, and cooked with all the refinements possible in the modern cooking-school, which should be one of its departments, with limited use of rich foods or desserts and stimulating drinks, but with wholesome proximity to dairy and farm. Nutrition is the first law of health and happiness, the prime condition and creator of euphoria; and the appetite should be, as it always is if unperverted, like a kind of somatic conscience steadfastly pointing toward the true pole of needs.

    Sleep should be regular, with a fixed retiring hour and curfew, on plain beds in rooms of scrupulous neatness reserved chiefly for it with every precaution for quiet, and, if possible, with windows more or less open the year round, and, like other rooms, never overheated. Bathing in moderation, and especially dress and toilet should be almost raised to fine arts and objects of constant suggestion. Each student should have three rooms, for bath, sleep, and study, respectively, and be responsible for their care, with every encouragement for expressing individual tastes; but will, an all-dominant idea of simplicity, convenience, refinement, and elegance, without luxury. Girls need to go away from home a good part of every year to escape the indiscretion and often the coddling of parents and to learn self-reliance; and a family dormitory system, with but few, twelve to twenty, in each building, to escape nervous wear and distraction, to secure intimacy and acquaintance with one or more matrons or teachers and to ensure the most pedagogic dietetics, is suggested.

    Exercise comes after regimen, of which it is a special reform. Swedish gymnastics should be abandoned or reduced to a minimum of best points, because it is too severe and, in forbidding music, lays too little stress upon the rhythm element. Out-of-door walks and games should have precedence over all else. The principle sometimes advocated, that methods of physical training should apply to both boys and girls without regard to sex, and with all the ordinary appliances found in the men’s gymnasia introduced, should be reversed and every possible adjustment made to sex. Free plays and games should always have precedence over indoor or uniform commando exercises. Boating and basket-ball should be allowed, but with the competition element sedulously reduced, and with dancing of many kinds and forms the most prominent of indoor exercises. The dance cadences the soul; the stately minuet gives poise; the figure dances train the mind; and pantomime and dramatic features should be introduced and even specialties, if there are strong individual predispositions. The history of the dance, which has often been a mode of worship, a school of morals, and which is the root of the best that is in the drama, the best of all exercises and that could be again the heart of our whole educational system, should be exploited, and the dancing school and class rescued from its present degradation. No girl is educated who can not dance, although she need not know the ballroom in its modern form.[10]

    Manners, a word too often relegated to the past as savoring of the primness of the ancient dame school or female seminary, are really minor or sometimes major morals. They can express everything in the whole range of the impulsive or emotional life. Now that we understand the primacy of movement over feeling, we can appreciate what a school of bearing and repose in daily converse with others means. I would revive some of the ancient casuistry of details, but less the rules of the drawing-room, call and party, although these should not be neglected, than the deeper expressions of true ladyhood seen in an exquisite, tender and unselfish regard for the feelings of others. Women’s ideal of compelling every one whom they meet to like them is a noble one, and the control of every automatism is not only a part of good breeding, but nervous health.

    Regularity should be another all-pervading norm. In the main, even though he may have “played his sex symphony too harshly,” E.H. Clark was right. Periodicity, perhaps the deepest law of the cosmos, celebrates its highest triumphs in woman’s life. For years everything must give way to its thorough and settled establishment. In the monthly Sabbaths of rest, the ideal school should revert to the meaning of the word leisure. The paradise of stated rest should be revisited, idleness be actively cultivated; reverie, in which the soul, which needs these seasons of withdrawal for its own development, expatiates over the whole life of the race, should be provided for and encouraged in every legitimate way, for, in rest, the whole momentum of heredity is felt in ways most favorable to full and complete development. Then woman should realize that to be is greater than to do; should step reverently aside from her daily routine and let Lord Nature work. In this time of sensitiveness and perturbation, when anemia and chlorosis are so peculiarly immanent to her sex, remission of toil should not only be permitted, but required; and yet the greatest individual liberty should be allowed to adjust itself to the vast diversities of individual constitutional needs. (See Chapter VII on this point.) The cottage home, which should take the place of the dormitory, should always have special interest and attractions for these seasons.

    There should always be some personal instruction at these seasons during earlier adolescent years. I have glanced over nearly a score of books and pamphlets that are especially written for girls; while all are well meant and far better than the ordinary modes by which girls acquire knowledge of their own nature if left to themselves, they are, like books for boys, far too prolix, and most are too scientific and plain and direct. Moreover, no two girls need just the same instruction, and to leave it to reading is too indirect and causes the mind to dwell on it for too long periods. Best of all is individual instruction at the time, concise, practical, and never, especially in the early years, without a certain mystic and religious tone which should pervade all and make everything sacred. This should not be given by male physicians—and indeed most female doctors would make it too professional, and the maiden teacher must forever lack reverence for it—but it should come from one whose soul and body are full of wifehood and motherhood and who is old enough to know and is not without the necessary technical knowledge.

    Another principle should be to broaden by retarding; to keep the purely mental back and by every method to bring the intuitions to the front; appeals to tact and taste should be incessant; a purely intellectual man is no doubt biologically a deformity, but a purely intellectual woman is far more so. Bookishness is probably a bad sign in a girl; it suggests artificiality, pedantry, the lugging of dead knowledge. Mere learning is not the ideal, and prodigies of scholarship are always morbid. The rule should be to keep nothing that is not to become practical; to open no brain tracts which are not to be highways for the daily traffic of thought and conduct; not to overburden the soul with the impedimenta of libraries and records of what is afar off in time or zest, and always to follow truly the guidance of normal and spontaneous interests wisely interpreted.

    Religion will always bold as prominent a place in woman’s life as politics does in man’s, and adolescence is still more its seedtime with girls than with boys. Its roots are the sentiment of awe and reverence, and it is the great agent in the world for transforming life from its earlier selfish to its only really mature form of altruism. The tales of the heroes of virtue, duty, devotion, and self-sacrifice from the Old Testament come naturally first; then perhaps the prophets paraphrased as in the pedagogic triumph of Kent and Saunders’s little series; and when adolescence is at its height then the chief stress of religious instruction should be laid upon Jesus’s life and work. He should be taught first humanly, and only later when the limitations of manhood seem exhausted should His Deity be adduced as welcome surplusage. The supernatural is a reflex of the heart; each sustains and neither can exist without the other. If the transcendent and supernal had no objective existence, we should have to invent and teach it or dwarf the life of feeling and sentiment. Whatever else religion is, therefore, it is the supremest poetry of the soul, reflecting like nothing else all that is deepest, most generic and racial in it. Theology should be reduced to a minimum, but nothing denied where wanted. Paul and his works and ways should be for the most part deferred until after eighteen. The juvenile well as the cyclone revivalist should be very carefully excluded; and yet in every springtime, when nature is recreated, service and teaching should gently encourage the revival and even the regeneration of all the religious instincts. The mission recruiter should be allowed to do his work outside these halls, and everything in the way of infection and all that brings religion into conflict with good taste and good sense should be excluded, while esthetics should supplement, reënforce, and go hand in hand with piety. Religion is in its infancy; and woman, who has sustained it in the past, must be the chief agent in its further and higher development. Orthodoxies and all narrowness should forever give place to cordial hospitality toward every serious view, which should be met by the method of greater sympathy rather than by that of criticism.

    Nature in her many phases should, of course, make up a large part of the entire curriculum, but here again the methods of the sexes should differ somewhat after puberty. The poetic and mythic factors and some glimpses of the history of science should be given more prominence; the field naturalist rather than the laboratory man of technic should be the ideal especially at first; nature should be taught as God’s first revelation, as an Old Testament related to the Bible as a primordial dispensation to a later and clearer and more special one. Reverence and love should be the motive powers, and no aspect should be studied without beginning and culminating in interests akin to devotion. Mathematics should be taught only in its rudiments, and those with special talents or tastes for it should go to agamic schools. Chemistry, too, although not excluded, should have a subordinate place. The average girl has little love of sozzling and mussing with the elements, and cooking involves problems in organic chemistry too complex to be understood very profoundly, but the rudiments of household chemistry should be taught. Physics, too, should be kept to elementary stages. Meteorology should have a larger, and geology and astronomy increasingly larger places, and are especially valuable because, and largely in proportion as, they are taught out of doors, but the general principles and the untechnical and practical aspects should be kept in the foreground. With botany more serious work should be done. Plant-lore and the poetic aspect, as in astronomy, should have attention throughout, while Latin nomenclature and microscopic technic should come late if at all, and vulgar names should have precedence over Latin terminology. Flowers, gardening, and excursions should never be wanting. Economic and even medical aspects should appear, and prominent and early should come the whole matter of self cross-fertilization and that by insects. The moral value of this subject will never be fully understood till we have what might almost be called a woman’s botany, constructed on lines different from any of the text-books I have glanced at. Here much knowledge interesting in itself can be early taught, which will spring up into a world of serviceable insights as adolescence develops and the great law of sex unfolds.

    Zoology should always be taught with plenty of pets, menagerie resources, and with aquaria, aviaries, apiaries, formicaries, etc., as adjuncts. It should start in the environment like everything else. Bird and animal lore, books, and pictures should abound in the early stages, and the very prolific chapter of instincts should have ample illustration, while the morphological nomenclature and details of structure should be less essential. Woman has domesticated nearly all the animals, and is so superior to man in insight into their modes of life and psychoses that many of them are almost exemplifications of moral qualities to her even more than to man. The peacock is an embodied expression of pride; the pig, of filth; the fox, of cunning; the serpent, of subtle danger; the eagle, of sublimity; the goose, of stupidity; and so on through all the range of human qualities, as we have seen. At bottom, however, the study of animal life is coming to be more and more a problem of heredity, and its problems should have dominant position and to them the other matter should grade up.

    This shades over into and prepares for the study of the primitive man and child so closely related to each other. The myth, custom, belief, domestic practises of savages, vegetative and animal traits in infancy and childhood, the development of which is a priceless boon for the higher education of women, open of themselves a great field of human interest where she needs to know the great results, the striking details, the salient illustrations, the basal principles rather than to be entangled in the details of anthropometry, craniometry, philology, etc.

    All this lays the basis for a larger study of modern man—history, with the biographical element very prominent throughout, with plenty of stories of heroes of virtue, acts of valor, tales of saintly lives and the personal element more prominent, and specialization in the study of dynasties, wars, authorities, and controversies relegated to a very subordinate place. Sociology, undeveloped, rudimentary, and in some places suspected as it is, should have in the curriculum of her higher education a place above political economy. The stories of the great reforms, and accounts of the constitution of society, of the home, church, state, and school, and philanthropies and ideals, should to the fore.

    Art in all its forms should be opened at least in a propædeutic way and individual tastes amply and judiciously fed, but there should be no special training in music without some taste and gift, and the aim should be to develop critical and discriminative appreciation and the good taste that sees the vast superiority of all that is good and classic over what is cheap and fustian.

    In literature, myth, poetry, and drama should perhaps lead, and the knowledge of the great authors in the vernacular be fostered. Greek, Hebrew, and perhaps Latin languages should be entirely excluded, not but that they are of great value and have their place, but because a smattering knowledge is bought at too high a price of ignorance of more valuable things. German, French, and Italian should be allowed and provided for by native teachers and by conversational methods if desired, and in their proper season.

    In the studies of the soul of man, generally called the philosophic branches, metaphysics and epistemology should have the smallest, and logic the next least place. Psychology should be taught on the genetic basis of animals and children, and one of its tap-roots should be developed from the love of infancy and youth, than which nothing in all the world is more worthy. If a woman Descartes ever arises, she will put life before theory, and her watchword will be not cogito, ergo sum, [I think, therefore I am] but sum, ergo cogito [I am, therefore I think]. The psychology of sentiments and feelings and intuitions will take precedence of that of pure intellect; ethics will be taught on the basis of the whole series of practical duties and problems, and the theories of the ultimate nature of right or the constitution of conscience will have small place.

    Domesticity will be taught by example in some ideal home building by a kind of laboratory method. A nursery with all carefully selected appliances and adjuncts, a dining-room, a kitchen, bedroom, closets, cellars, outhouses, building, its material, the grounds, lawn, shrubbery, hothouse, library, and all the other adjuncts of the hearth will be both exemplified and taught. A general course in pedagogy, especially its history and ideals, another in child study, and finally a course in maternity the last year taught broadly, and not without practical details of nursing, should be comprehensive and culminating. In its largest sense maternity might be the heart of all the higher training of young women.

    Applied knowledge will thus be brought to a focus in a department of teaching as one of the specialties of motherhood and not as a vocation apart. The training should aim to develop power of maternity in soul as well as in body, so that home influence may extend on and up through the plastic years of pubescence, and future generations shall not rebel against these influences until they have wrought their perfect work.

    The methods throughout should be objective, with copious illustrations by way of object-lessons, apparatus, charts, pictures, diagrams, and lectures, far less book work and recitation, only a limited amount of room study, the function of examination reduced to a minimum, and everything as suggestive and germinal as possible. Hints that are not followed up; information not elaborated into a thin pedagogic sillabub or froth; seed that is sown on the waters with no thought of reaping; faith in a God who does not pay at the end of each week, month, or year, but who always pays abundantly some time; training which does not develop hypertrophied memory-pouches that carry, or creative powers that discover and produce—these are lines on which such an institution should develop. Specialization has its place, but it always hurts a woman’s soul more than a man’s, should always come later, and if there is special capacity it should be trained elsewhere. Unconscious education is a power of which we have yet to learn the full ranges.

    In most groups in this series of ideal departments there should be at least one healthful, wise, large-souled, honorable, married and attractive man, and, if possible, several of them. His very presence in an institution for young women gives poise, polarizes the soul, and gives wholesome but long-circuited tension at root no doubt sexual, but all unconsciously so. This mentor should not be more father than brother, though he should combine the best of each, but should add another element. He need not be a doctor, a clergyman, or even a great scholar, but should be accessible for confidential conferences even though intimate. He should know the soul of the adolescent girl and how to prescribe; he should be wise and fruitful in advice, but especially should be to all a source of contagion and inspiration for poise and courage even though religious or medical problems be involved. But even if he lack all these latter qualities, though he so poised that impulsive girls can turn their hearts inside out in his presence and perhaps even weep on his shoulder, the presence of such a being, though a complete realization of this ideal could be only remotely approximated, would be the center of an atmosphere most wholesomely tonic.

    In these all too meager outlines I have sketched a humanistic and liberal education and have refrained from all details and special curriculization. Many of the above features I believe would be as helpful for boys as for girls, but woman has here an opportunity to resume her exalted and supreme position, to be the first in this higher field, to lead man and pay her debt to his educational institutions, by resuming her crown. The ideal institutions, however, for the two will always be radically and probably always increasingly divergent.

    As a psychologist, penetrated with the growing sense of the predominance of the heart over the mere intellect, I believe myself not alone in desiring to make a tender declaration of being more and more passionately in love with woman as I conceive she came from the hand of God. I keenly envy my Catholic friends their Maryolatry. Who ever asked if the Holy Mother, whom the wise men adored, knew the astronomy of the Chaldees or had studied Egyptian or Babylonian, or even whether she knew how to read or write her own tongue, and who has ever thought of caring? We can not conceive that she bemoaned any limitations of her sex, but she has been an object of adoration all these centuries because she glorified womanhood by being more generic, nearer the race, and richer in love, pity, unselfish devotion and intuition than man. The glorified madonna ideal shows us how much more whole and holy it is to be a woman than to be artist, orator, professor, or expert, and suggests to our own sex that to be a man is larger than to be gentleman, philosopher, general, president, or millionaire.

    But with all this love and hunger in my heart, I can not help sharing in the growing fear that modern woman, at least in more ways and places than one, is in danger of declining from her orbit; that she is coming to lack just confidence and pride in her sex as such, and is just now in danger of lapsing to mannish ways, methods, and ideals, until her original divinity may become obscured. But, if our worship at her shrine is with a love and adoration a little qualified and unsteady, we have a fixed and abiding faith without which we should have no resource against pessimism for the future of our race, that she will ere long evolve a sphere of life and even education which fits her needs as well as, if not better than those of man fit his.

    Meanwhile, if the eternally womanly seems somewhat less divine, we can turn with unabated faith to the eternally childish, the best of which in each are so closely related. The oracles of infancy and childhood will never fail. Distracted as we are in the maze of new sciences, skills, ideals, knowledges that we can not fully coördinate by our logic or curriculize by our pedagogy; confused between the claims of old and new methods; needing desperately, for survival as a nation and a race, some clue to thrid the mazes of the manifold modern cultures, we have now at least one source to which we can turn—we have found the only magnet in all the universe that points steadfastly to the undiscovered pole of human destiny. We know what can and will ultimately coördinate in the generic, which is larger than the logical order, all that is worth knowing, teaching, or doing by the best methods, that will save us from misfits and the waste ineffable of premature and belated knowledge, and that is in the interests and line of normal development in the child in our midst that must henceforth ever lead us which epitomizes in its development all the stages, human and prehuman; that is the proper object of all that strange new love of everything that is naive, spontaneous, and unsophisticated in human nature. The heart and soul of growing childhood is the criterion by which we judge the larger heart and soul of mature womanhood; and these are ultimately the only guide into the heart of the new education which is to be, when the school becomes what Melanchthon said it must be—a true workshop of the Holy Ghost—and what the new psychology, when it rises to the heights of prophecy, foresees as the true paradise of restored intuitive human nature.

    [Footnote 1: David Starr Jordan: The Higher Education of Women.
    Popular Science Monthly, December, 1902, vol. 62, pp. 97-107. See also
    my article on this subject in Munsey’s Magazine, February, 1906, and
    President Jordan’s reply in the March number, 1906.]

    [Footnote 2: Coeducation. A series of essays by various authors, edited by Alice Woods, with an introduction by M.E. Sadler. Longmans, Green and Co., London 1903, p. 148 et seq.]

    [Footnote 3: The Evolution of Ideals. W.G. Chambers, Pedagogical
    Seminary, March, 1903, vol. 10, pp. 101-143. Also, B.E. Warner: The
    Young Woman in Modern Life. Dodd, Mead & Co., New York, 1903, p. 218.]

    [Footnote 4: The Psychology of Woman. Translated by G.A. Etchison.
    Richards, London, 1899.]

    [Footnote 5: Physical Development of Women and Children. By Miss M.E.
    Allen. American Association for Physical Education., April, 1890.]

    [Footnote 6: A Review of the Higher Education of Women. Forum, September, 1891, vol. 12, pp 25-40. See also G. von Bunge: Die zunehmende Unfähigkeit der Frauen ihre Kinder zu stillen. München Reinhardt, 1903, 3d ed. Also President Harper’s Decennial Report, pp. xciv-cxi.]

    [Footnote 7: Physical Hindrances to Teaching Girls, by Charlotte W.
    Porter. Forum, September, 1891, vol. 12, pp. 41-49.]

    [Footnote 8: Abbotsholme, 1889-1899: or Ten Years’ Work in an
    Educational Laboratory, by Cecil Reddie, G. Allen London, 1900.]

    [Footnote 9: See L’Ecole des Roches, a school of the Twentieth Century, by T.R. Croswell. Pedagogical Seminary, December, 1900, vol. 7, pp. 479-491.]

    [Footnote 10: See Chapter VI.]

    Extract from Youth: Its Education, Regimen, and Hygiene, by G. Stanley Hall

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