ldren when they forget
themselves. But they ought to be aware that the child, when he forgets
himself in the beauty of the world, is passing through a sacred
experience which will enrich and glorify the whole of his life.
Children, because they are not engaged in the struggle for life, are
more capable of this aesthetic self-forgetfulness than they will
afterwards be; and they need all of it that they can get, so that they
may remember it and prize it in later years. In these heaven-sent
moments they know what disinterestedness is. They have a test by which
they can value all future experience and know the dullness and staleness
of worldly success. Therefore it is a sin to check, more than need be,
their aesthetic delight" (_The Ultimate Belief_).

We cannot all give to our children the experiences we should like to
supply, but if we are clear that we are aiming at enjoyment of Nature,
and not at supplying information, we shall come nearer to what is
desirable. For years, almost since it opened in 1908, Miss Reed of the
Michaelis Free Kindergarten has taken her children to the country. It
means a great deal of work and responsibility, it means collecting funds
and giving up one's scanty leisure, it means devoted service, but it has
been done, and it has been kept up even during war time, though with
great difficulty as to funds, because of the inestimable benefit to the
children. Miss Stokes of the Somers Town Nursery School secured a
country holiday for her little ones in various ways, partly through the
Children's Country Holiday Fund, but since the war she has been unable
to secure help of that kind, and has managed to take the children away
to a country cottage. A paragraph in the report says: "The children in
the country had a delightful time, and what was seen and done during
their holiday is still talked about continually. These joys entered into
all the work of the nursery school and helped the children for months
to retain a breath of the country in their London surroundings. They
realised much from that visit. Cows now have horns, wasps have wings and
fly--alas they sting also. Hens sit on eggs, an almost unbelievable
thing. Fishes, newts, tadpoles, were all met with and greeted as
friends. Children and helpers alike returned home full of health and
vigour and longing for the next time. One little maid wept bitterly, and
there seemed no joy in life at home until she came across the school
rabbit, which was ten