118 THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF SOCIOLOGY
and joy. In school the child has too often a separate stream of thought, or a stagnant pool, totally separate from his real life. A child should have one life, wholesome and complete, and the home life and the school life should each supplement the other. However loving a teacher may be, the method of teaching rarely discloses a deep sympathy, which is the best there is in any teacher. We tried to make the children happy, so happy that they should love to go to school. The rod was well-nigh banished. The doctrine of total depravity will have much to answer for in the day of judgment. Flogging is the direct result of the belief that the child is innately bad, and must be whipped into goodness.
We knew that the child is good, if he has a chance, an environment of goodness. This knowledge came to us from actual experience. One beauti- ful incident threw a flood of light upon the child's soul. Little Bumpus, who was blind, entered Mrs. Follett's class of six-year-olds. Without suggestion, the dear little folks put their arms around him and said : " We'll help you." Humanity begets humanity. Children long for something to do, and they love right-doing far more than they love wrong-doing.
The systematic cultivation of selfishness by bribery per cents., material rewards, and prizes was banished. The dark clouds were cleared away, and a higher motive, a nobler ideal, came into view. The humane treatment of children cannot be brought about by any particular method. It must spring from a deep sympathy, backed by courage and skill. The old- fashioned, stiff, unnatural order was broken up. The torture of sitting per- fectly still with nothing to do was ruled out, and in came an order of work, with all the whispering and noise compatible with the best results. The child began to feel that he had something to do for himself, that he was a member of society, with the responsibilities that accompany such an important position.
I might end this description here, for I have told all that is essential. But there are mistaken opinions to correct, opinions that have done much harm. For one thing, we did not banish text-books ; we added to them ; change, not banishment, was the order. It was the custom for pupils to read through in a year one little book that a bright, well-taught child can read from end to end in a few hours, providing always that he is not disgusted with the contents. They learned the book, often by heart, from their older brothers and sisters; they could say every word, chant it, sing it, repeat it in their sleep, behold it in nightmares. It did not require much wisdom, or even common-sense, to furnish the children with all the best literature then published. The committee appropriated $500 for children's reading, and I spent it as best I could. I packed the precious freight of new books into an express wagon and drove from school to school, taking up books and furnishing fresh sets. The flood of literature for schools we have now is not twenty-five years old. The introduction of so-called supplementary reading now well-nigh universal, was then exceptional.
