(1) So there is first the quarry we call Heredity. The child does not start clear. It finds, like Solomon, materials left by its father. It is handicapped with poor stuff or enriched with capital piled up by the effort of many generations. The " heir of all the ages," as he lies on his mother's knee, has in every eddy of his blood, in every pulsation of his heart, in every throb of his
^ W, Granger.
394 HEWING AND BUILDING
nerves, in every tremor of his brain, the memorial of a human past.
(2) There is also the quarry we call Environment. The child is building from the world outside self the fibre of its own being, the structure of the inner mind. Whittier describes in a poem the development of the universe in the mind of a child, and tells how, as the child goes forth from day to day, the wind and the sun, the procession of the cattle with their bells, the music and the salt scents of the sea, become not only memories of the child, but part of the child. The environment of the child in Whittier's poem contrasts greatly with that of most children. Most are town children, perhaps in some ways to their gain ; but the gain is superficial, while the loss is deep and the perils are increased. The loss lies in the absence of real intimacy with Nature; the peril is that with too little of Nature there is too much of man.
^ Man is not the creature, but the architect of circumstance. It is character which builds an existence out of circumstance. Our strength is measured by our plastic power ; from the same materials one man builds palaces, another hovels ; bricks and mortar are mortar and bricks, until the architect can make them something else.^
(3) There is the quarry of Christian Faith and Experience. We believe that the stone made ready at the quarry of Christian faith and experience is the material children need most, and that the issue will prove it both by its beauty and by its stability. The great attributes of God appeal naturally to the child ; the life and character of Jesus are perfectly intelligible and endlessly fascinating to the child, and the attraction of the Gospels, if you do not mar its effect by doctrinal subtleties, is irresistible.
Souls are built as temples are — Sunken deep, unseen, unknown, Lies the sure foundation stone, Then the courses framed to bear Lift the cloisters pillared fair, Last of all the airy spire, Soaring heavenward, higher and higher, Nearest sun and nearest star.
1 Oarlyle.
I KINGS VI. 7 395
Souls are built as temples are — Inch by inch in gradual rise Mount the layered masonries. Warring questions have their day, Kings arise and pass away, Labourers vanish one by one, Still the temple is not done, Still completion seems afar.
Souls are built as temples are — Here a carving rich and quaint, There the image of a saint j Here a deep-hued pane to tell Sacred truth or miracle; Every little helps the much, Every careful, careless touch Adds a charm or leaves a scar.
Souls are built as temples are — Based on truth's eternal law, Sure and steadfast, without flaw. Through the sunshine, through the snows, Up and on the building goes ; Every fair thing finds its place, Every hard thing lends a grace. Every hand may make or mar.
^ Which has the greater influence in the making of character, heredity or training ? — the influences before birth, or those after ? The question has been asked by scores of persons. It is surprising how often it has been met with hesitancy, as though a thing not thought into. And surprising, too, how indecisive the replies usually are.
Yet careful thought makes it plain, and then plainer, that while heredity is great beyond any power of calculation, training is infinitely greater. Or it would be better said thus: training may be made infinitely greater. Training can be made the greater, yet with the vast majority, as a matter of fact, it is not. The bent before birth, and the chance, weedy growth after, actually make up the character of the great crowd, with training, properly so called, playing no part, because it has no chance.
Training is by far the greater in its possible power. Heredity, with the chance environment it has stumbled across, has actually been the most potent factor, and is. If the start be early enough, heredity can be wholly overcome by training, though it rarely is.
396 HEWING AND BUILDING
In many instances it is partially overcome. With the vast crowd, the child runs wild like an unkempt vine, or rank weed, and so heredity plus whatever is absorbed by mere chance decides the life. Bad blood is bad. Bad training is yet worse. Good blood is good, but good training is better. It is easier to train where there is good blood. But then most blood is good, though the pedigree is not recorded. It is rather startling to remember that good training with bad or not-good blood, if you can begin early enough, will give a better life than the best of blood with bad training, or with the shiftless, weedy no-training.^
ii. The Silent Building of the Church.