Life — March 13, 1902 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

216 Self-Consciousness as a Fine Art. (LP HAT Aine group of enthusiasts who have been so long engaged in re- ducing ence, whose ranks have been so steadily aug- mented by adoles- cent psychologists and restive old maids, have never, until recently at least, displayed any signs of that unanimity of purpose so neces- sary to accomplish the highest results. They've bickered and fought among themselves. New systems have arisen and lasted for a day, only to be over- thrown by something still newer. Babel was & monosyllabic saints’ rest com- pared with our modern educational movement. The ideal aimed at in each case has, of course, been 9 model fac tory to turn out finished offsprin; place where any child could be put in at one end as raw material, and crammed, mannered, fluted and frilled, ironed out and perfected by an automatic and patented process at the other, duly stamped and certified. This ideal has never yet been reached, but there has been great fun trying at it. About the only thing that hasn’t been neglected is the non-education of the child. One great thing, however, has been accomplished — one lasting, beautiful, symmetrical, effective result. If there have been division and discord and mutterings and gnashings of teeth in the ranks of the educators, at least in one respect they have presented a united front. They have all agreed that in the child self-consciousness is the great thing to cultivate. This hitherto drooping and practically un- known exotic has been pruned and grafted and watered and tended until now it has attained a respectable growth, with a future before it. The idea is very simple. The main point is to make the child aware of himself at as carly an age as possible. *LIPE« Every new system that succeeds in reminding him more of himself is a distinct advance on all that has gone before. Here is where psychology steps in and does such good work. To know that the efferent nerves are the (un- happy) medium of co-ordinating im- pulses conveyed to the cortex by vibratory phenomena in heterogeneous ways hitherto unsuspected, when play- ing baseball, is a fine stimulus. We learn that play is not a form of enjoyment, but in reality an effort on the part of the child to develop his inherent forces, and is but a process in biological evolution. Very good. The next step is to make it plain to the child, that he may know all about it— so that, in kicking a football, climbing atree or running a foot race, he may appreciate the fact that the initial im- pulses of these movements have their proper beginning in the racial ances- tral paleolithic background, of which he is the scientific outcome. What's the use of having fun when you are unconscious of the wheels ? In the face of the grand results that are being achieved by modern educa- tionalists, it must be with deep sighs of pity and regret that we look back upon those untutored, unautomatic, uncultured fogies of old. When Colum- bus pat forth upon an unknown sea, what a burning shame that he could not have been conscious of the psycho- logical process! Nodoubt it would have spurred him on. Poor Will Shakes- peare! Those plays of his would never have been permitted in onr day. He would never have been al- lowed so far to forget himself as to write Hamlet. Every child should have hisat- tention constantly called to the fact that he is being educated. That’s the idea. If—say at twenty-five or thirty—hedoubts the process, bury him deep. He has failed. Tom Masson. In Ignorance. PARKE: You say youare no longer a Democrat. Have you any idea, sir, what the principles of the Democratic party are? Lane : None whatever. Ihave been studying them too closely for the past eight years. A Lenten Litany. (BALLADE,) NOTHER season done: +A How fast the winter goes! Here's Lent again begun th all its sombre prose. nd-bye to rhyme and Rose! od-bye to dance and dinner! Love, heal me of my woes: Have mercy ona sinner! She dresses like a nun, In black from head to toes ; Frivolity and fan Her smile no longer shows ; Her cheeks are like the snows, Pale as the white soul in her: Love, heal me of my toes: Hace mercy on a sinner ! She breakfasts on a bun,— Abundance, I suppose,— But rarely more than one ; Then church ; and Heaven knows That day by day she grows In grace, of course, but thinner! Love, heal me of my toes : Have mercy on a sinner! E Before my sw Away I fain would win her. Love, heal me of my woes: Have mercy ona sinner! Feliz Carmen. YANCY PORTRAIT OP THE PRESIDENT OP THE NEW YORK CENTRAL RAILNOAD ON BEING ADVISED To RIDE THROUGH THE TUNNEL. comicbooks.com