made the discovery of life, but not the discovery of spirit. They have felt how far sentient existence surpasses all inanimate being, and understood that the living worm is a higher creation than the lifeless star. Realizing the mystery of sentient existence, but not attaining to solution of the mystery in free spirit, they worship animals in whom the soul is still shut up and dulled by the physical organization. This obtuse life is the counterpart of their obtuse consciousness.

Retracing the rise of thought from mere animism to animal worship, we begin to appreciate that epoch-making transition in the child's life disclosed by his distinction of living objects from objects not alive, and his identification of the former as belonging to the same class with himself. His ball is motionless save as he gives it movement. It is his own trot or gallop which transforms a mere stick into a horse. Even the doll's eyes open and shut only at his will. But the bird flies high in the air, the fish darts gayly through the water, the kitten laps her milk and purrs, the caged canary hops and sings, the dog runs and leaps, barks in his joy, growls when angry, whines when hurt. Here is movement, here is feeling, here is life answering to

life, and with eyes from which the scales have fallen the living child looks out upon all " singing, humming, whistling, buzzing, croaking, flying, creeping, crawling, climbing, burrowing, splashing, diving things," and knows that he has found comrades. Is it strange that his countenance is lighted with joy? Is it wonderful that all the doings of these new-found comrades have for him an irresistible charm?

Watching a mother who was teaching her baby to beckon with tiny finger to some little chickens, Froebel recognized the expression of "life's living feeling that it is not alone in life," and under the inspiration of this experience wrote the first in order of time of the Mother-Play Songs. In the picture which accompanies it he seeks to open our ears, so that we too may hear the call of life to life. He shows us a baby who, loving himself to coo and chatter, listens with delight to the gobbling turkey, the clucking hen, the peeping chickens. A little girl in whom stir incipient motherly impulses of watchfulness and care beckons the hen to come to her chickens. Her younger sister cares not for the mother-hen, but, crouched on the ground, watches intently the tiny chickens, to

whom she feels strangely akin. Each child sees in the "looking-glass of Nature" the energy that throbs in his own pulses. Life calls to life; life looks at life; life recognizes life; life experiences the joy of life. Therefore, whatever the little ones feel in their own hearts they confidently seek in the actions of their newly discovered comrades, and the lesson of our play is simply to reveal to children their own mysterious life through its reflection in the sentient creatures who have not yet risen above life into consciousness.

As Beckoning the Chickens sounds the call of life to life, so Beckoning the Pigeons repeats the answer of life to life. One reason why the child loves animals is because they can respond to him. His dog knows his voice, his goat obeys bridle and whip, his kitten enjoys caresses, and pigeons and sparrows fly to get the food he scatters for them. His experience is like that of Donatello, who "spoke in a dialect broad as the sympathies of Nature to the inarticulate brotherhood that prowl the woods or soar upon the wing"; or, if you prefer historic to imaginary examples, like the relationship of St. Francis to his brethren the birds, and like the experience of Thoreau, in whose hands fish

would lie quietly, as if knowing the touch of a friend.*

At an age when true companionship with mature human beings is impossible and the companionship of child with child somewhat marred by mutual defect, the companionship of the child with the mute creatures to whom he already feels himself strangely superior, and therefore strangely bound, is of the utmost importance. It discloses elementary traits and elementary relationships, and thus accelerates the progress of self-discovery; it reveals in naked hideousness propensities of anger, vanity, and greed, which in the human being early seek masks and disguises; and, most important of all, it calls forth the impulses of care and nurture.

Since the activities of animals are preponderantly reflex and instinctive they have a stability which is not to be looked for in the actions of human beings. We can predict with tolerable certainty what a dog will do under all circumstances, but we can utter no confident prophecy with regard

*Miss Cody, of Toronto, tells me she knows a little boy whose companionship with birds is so sympathetic that many of them gather round him in response to a cooing sound which he makes.