RECREATION
The time has passed in which the amusements
of the community can be neglected or dismissed with
mere condemnation. In the husbandry of the country
every factor must be counted. We are dealing no
longer with a fatalistic country life, but with the
economy of all resources. Therefore the neglecting
of the play life and ignoring the leisure occupations
of a country people are inconsistent with the new economy.
Moreover the ancient method of condemning
all recreations passed away with the austere economy
of earlier days. The churches in the country no
longer discipline their members for “going to
frolics.” The country community no longer
is of one mind as to the standard by which recreation
shall be governed. Yet every event of this sort
is closely inspected by the general attention.
The experience of the cities, in which
social control has gone much farther than in the country
under the deliberate harmonizing of life with economic
principles, has much to contribute for the building
up of rural society through various means, among which
is recreation.
The need of recreative activities
in the country is shown by recent surveys undertaken
in Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri and Kentucky
by the Presbyterian Department of Church and Country
Life. Generally, throughout the farming population,
it was discovered that no common occasions and no
common experiences fell to the lot of the country
community. In the course of the round year there
is, in thousands of farming communities in Pennsylvania,
Indiana and Illinois, no single meeting that brings
all the people together. The small town has its
fireman’s parade, to the small city comes once
a year the circus and to the great city comes an anniversary
or an exposition. Every year there is some common
experience which welds the population, increases acquaintance
and intensifies social unity. The tillage of the
soil in those farming communities from which the blacksmith,
the storekeeper, the peddler and the shoemaker have
departed, is very lonely.
The telephone is the new system of
nerves for the rural organism, but the telephone is
a cold, steel wire instead of the warm and cordial
personal meetings with which the countryside was once
enlivened. In eighty country towns in Pennsylvania,
of which fifty are purely agricultural, we found in
our survey only three that had a common leadership
and a common assembling. The life of the people
in these communities is so solitary as to be almost
repellent. Their social habits are those of aggressive
loneliness. This isolation in the pioneer days
made the country people cordial to the visitor:
but in the coming of the new economy the farmer shrinks
from strangers, because he has become accustomed to
social divisions and classifications in which he feels
himself inferior; so that the loneliness of country
life has become not merely geographical, but sociological.
The farmer is shut in not merely by distances in miles,
but by distances of social aversion and suspicion.
Difference has become a more hostile influence in the
country than distance.
Organized industry necessitates organized
recreation. The subjection of mind and body to
machine labor requires a reaction in the form of play.
All factory and industrial populations, without exception,
provide themselves with play-grounds of some sort.
In the city where no public provision is made the
streets are used by the boys for their games, even
at the risk of injury or death from the passing traffic.
Jane Addams has shown, in a fine literary appeal in
her “The Spirit of Youth and the City Streets,”
the necessity of some provision for the recreations
of the young and of working people in a great city.
This necessity is not primarily due
to congestion of the population. Its real sources
are in the system and organization by which modern
work is done. This necessity is as characteristic
of the rural community as it is of the city, for on
the farms as well as in the factory towns labor is
performed by machinery. This means that through
the working hours of the day, from eight to twelve
in number, the attention of the worker must be concentrated
upon one task, patiently and steadfastly pursued.
The machine worker exerts himself in the control of
great powers, horse power or steam power, committed
to his charge. He has no opportunity for languor
or rest. He has no choice. His job drives
him. His movements are fixed and regulated by
the nature of the machine with which he is working,
and of the task to be accomplished. At the end
of the day he has acted involuntarily and mechanically
until his own powers of will and choice are accumulated.
Being repressed through long hours of prescribed labor
he is ready for a rebound. His nature demands
self-expression. This self-expression takes the
form of play.
The recreation which results is organized.
The laborer in a factory or on a railroad is conscious
of organization by the very nature of his work.
He labors with a machine driven by powers unseen but
of whose operation he is aware, in a great plant wherein
his own labor is co-ordinated with that of other workers
like unto himself. The hours of self-devotion
and prescribed attention leave him free for sympathy
with the other workers, whose action and whose toil
are organized with his own, and on whose skill and
devotion his life and limb and the continuance of
his job are dependent. When he turns to recreation
he naturally seeks to continue the silent communion
with his fellow-workers. The repressed personal
energies are already prepared for team work.
He comes out of the factory bubbling over with good
fellowship and seeking for comradeship in the self-expression
which the long hours of the day have denied him.
The result is that in every factory
town the open spaces are devoted to playground uses.
Vacant lots, unoccupied fields, and the open street
are used by men and boys for their games.
Exactly the same experience results
from school and college organization of education
work. The student in the common schools does not
choose his course; it is prescribed for him by his
family and by society. He does not go to school
because he is mentally ambitious, but because the
standards of universal education require it of him.
Especially in the colleges which inherit a great name
and attract young men and women for social advantage,
the students are characterized by an involuntary subjection
to the routine of modern pedagogy. Educational
discipline is imposed upon them through the long hours
of lectures and laboratory and recitations. The
students in high school and college are accumulating
a rebound of voluntary action. This organized
self-expression takes the form of school and college
athletics, which has long since been adopted as a
part of the educational routine. No considerable
number of educators are in favor of abolishing it,
and only a few venture to believe in restricting college
athletics. Its moral value is everywhere tacitly
recognized, and pretty generally it is consciously
accepted by college and school faculties.
Play of this sort has great moral
value. We are hired to work, and we do it without
choice or enthusiasm, but in play the natural forces
and the personal choice are at their maximum.
Every action is chosen and is saturated with the pleasure
of self-expression. The result is that play has
high ethical value.
Especially has organized recreation
great moral power, because it involves team work,
and the subjection of the individual to the success
of the team. Organized recreation teaches self-denial
in a multitude of experiences which are all the more
powerful because they are not prescribed by any teacher
or preacher, but are the free natural expression of
the human spirit under the government of chosen associates
working out together a common purpose.
Therefore it is necessary to use play
for the recreation of country life. The word
is literal, not figurative. It is not a problem
merely of games, nor the question of gymnasium, but
a profound ethical enterprise of disciplining the
whole population through the use of the play spirit.
This question must be approached on the high plane
of the teaching of modern theorists, and the experience
of such practical organizations as the Young Men’s
Christian Association.
The Christian Associations began their
work in the lifetime of present generations and for
accomplishing certain purposes they have used recreation.
They provided a gymnasium, at first, in order to get
men into the prayer-meeting. They offered social
parlors in which young men could always hear the sound
of sacred song. But the Young Men’s Christian
Association has traveled far from its crude and early
use of recreation. Some of the early Association
leaders are still living and still leading. They
have steadily advanced with care and wisdom in the
use of recreation. Within very recent years the
leaders of the Associations have countenanced the
use of billiard tables. No longer is the gymnasium
an annex to the prayer-meeting. It has values
of its own. Without moralizing, these practical
men have discovered that the social parlors were good
for ends of their own and not merely as a place for
hearing the distant sound of hymns. In other words,
recreation is a form of ethical culture.
Rev. C. O. Gill, who was captain of
the Yale football team in 1890, has had an extended
experience among farmers. He says, “The
reason why farmers cannot co-operate is in the fact
that they did not play when they were boys. They
never learned team work. They cannot yield to
one another, or surrender themselves to the common
purpose.” The writer, observing Mr. Gill
coaching a university team, commented upon the good
spirits with which a player yielded his place on the
team just before the victory. Mr. Gill had removed
him, as he explained to him, not because he played
poorly, but because a new formation required a rearrangement
of the team. In reply to comment upon the player’s
self-forgetfulness, Mr. Gill said, “Football
is the greatest school of morals in the country.
I learned more ethics from the coaches when I was
an undergraduate in Yale, than from all other sources
combined.”
It is this high ethical value of recreation
which causes the working man to defend his amateur
baseball team, and makes it so hard to repress Sunday
games. The working man admits the high value of
the Sabbath, but he sets a value also upon recreation,
and without analysis of the philosophy either of the
Sabbath or of the play-ground, stoutly maintains the
goodness of recreation and its necessity for those
who have labored all the week. “I work
six days in the week, and I must have some time for
recreation,” is the working man’s answer
to all Sunday reformers. Waiving for a moment
the question of the Sabbath, the human process to
which the working man testifies is exactly as he describes
it. Organized labor and systematic industry will
react on any population in the form of systematic
recreation.
The Play-ground Movement, therefore,
is extending itself throughout the country by the
very influence of modern industry. Given intelligence
to interpret it, and one understands at once the desire
of philanthropic and public spirited men and women
to provide “a playground beside every school
building, open for all the people.”
Dr. Luther H. Gulick, who was born
of missionary parents, was trained in religious schools,
graduated as a physician, employed for years in the
Young Men’s Christian Association, and then made
Play-Ground Director in the New York Public Schools,
has become legitimately the heir of the experiences
of the modern social conscience. He has summed
up the philosophy of working men, students, and of
the people whose lives are systematized, in a sentence:
“There is a higher morality in the reactions
of play than in the experiences of labor.”
The tradition of the church has been
opposed to amusement and recreation. The church
of our fathers recognized the moral possibilities
of play by calling all play immoral. The early
Quakers filled their records in the eighteenth century
with denunciations of “frollicks.”
Consciously they denounced amusement, acting no doubt
in a wise understanding of the rude, boisterous character
of the pioneer’s social gatherings. Only
unconsciously did the Quakers cultivate the spirit
of recreation in their social gatherings. It
was permitted to have but few and repressed opportunities.
The decadence of the Quaker church is probably due,
in a considerable measure, to their stubborn unwillingness
to see both sides of this question. They saw that
recreation was immoral. They refused to see that
its possible moral value was as great as its moral
danger.
Extensive correspondence with working
pastors, by means of a system of questions sent out
from a New York office, has brought this result.
In answer to the question, “What amusements
of moral value are there in the community?”
the answer, “Baseball, boating, tennis, golf,
bicycling, etc.” A smaller number
of recreations was named in answer to the inquiry
for immoral sports. The subsequent question, “What
is your position before the community?” brought
from the minister very often this answer: “I
am known to be opposed to all sports.” Few
ministers realize the inconsistency of this position.
They stand before the community as the professed advocates
of public and private morality, and they stand also
before the community as the professed and violent opponents,
often, of the public sports which are known to the
young men and workingmen generally as promoters of
ethical culture and moral training. Is it any
wonder that the churches, in these communities, are
often deserted by the common people?
In Lewistown, Pa., the old Presbyterian
Church there, seeing the congested character of the
town population and the need of breathing-places for
the young people and working people, looked about
for a recreation field. The only available ground
is the old cemetery, in which the earlier members
of the congregation have buried their dead. This,
the only open spot in the center of the town, it has
been proposed to turn into a playground, the bodies
of the dead to be disinterred and laid reverently
away in a quieter place, and the ground newly consecrated
to the needs of the living, and of the young.
The action contemplated by this fine old church is
emblematic of the modern spirit. Christianity
is no longer a mere reverence for death and the other
world. But it is an energetic service to the young,
and the working people, in this present world.
It is no longer a solemn reverence for the salvation
of the individual soul in a heaven unseen, but it is
a social service, no less serious, unto the living
and unto the young and the employed.
Certain modern sports, such as baseball,
are free from the corruption which has attached itself
to horse-racing and pugilism. This corruption
is not in racing a horse, or punching an opponent.
It is in the dishonesty of the race, for horsemen
believe that “there never was an honest horse-race,”
and the followers of the prize ring are constantly
suspicious that the fight will be “fixed.”
The first question they ask after the decision of
the referee is generally, “Was it a frame-up?”
The moral power of baseball, tennis, football and
the other most popular sports, is in the confidence
that the game is fairly played. This fairness
of the game is the widest extended school of ethical
culture that the American and British population know.
Honorable recreation trains in courage, manliness,
co-operation, obedience, self-control, presence of
mind, and in every other of the general social virtues.
It makes men citizens and good soldiers when need
comes. This was the meaning of the remark of
the Duke of Wellington, when, after the conquest of
Napoleon, he returned to view the playground at Eton,
and said, “Here the Battle of Waterloo was won.”
For the building up of a community,
therefore, the promotion of recreation is an essential.
Just as necessary as the providing of common schools
for all the people, is the provision of public play-grounds
for all the people. As many as are the school
houses so many, generally speaking, should be the
play-grounds accessible to all, under the care of
trained and responsible leaders, in which, without
too much government, the free movements of the young
and the abounding self-expression of the great mass
of the employed shall have opportunity to work out
their own education through play, into public righteousness.
The training of citizens for days
to come demands exactly the qualities which are imparted
on the play-ground. Morality is not taught and
ethical culture is not imparted by precept, though
precept and exhortation have their due place in the
analysis of moral and spiritual matters, for the thoughtful.
But the great number of people are not ethically thoughtful,
and in the acquirement of righteousness all people
are unconscious. The desired action in moral growth
is universally spontaneous. The most sober and
intellectual of men must be caught off his guard and
must be lured into voluntary actions before any moral
habits can be formed in him. Mere analysis of
truth or self-examination makes no man good.
But men become good by doing things first, and thinking
of them afterward. They can be just as good if
they never think about them, though thinking about
ethical matters renders a service to the community
as a whole.
It should be the duty, therefore,
of the churches, who are acknowledged before the whole
community as repositories of the conscience of men,
to promote public recreation. Where necessary
the church should even provide a play-ground.
In Galesburg, Ill., fifteen churches are co-operating,
through their men’s societies, in a central council
of forty members. This Council is made up in
the form of four Committees of ten. Each Committee
considers one great interest of the community.
One of these interests is recreation. It is the
duty of this Committee in winter to provide musical
and literary entertainment and lectures. In the
summer this Committee has secured the use of the Knox
College recreation field, and employing a trained
man, has opened it throughout the summer as a play-ground
for all the children of the city.
The use of recreation for the building
up of a community seems to involve expensive apparatus
and sometimes does so. Mrs. Russell Sage at Sag
Harbor, Long Island, has expended many thousands of
dollars in the experiment. Interested in the
children, of whom there are about eight hundred in
the town, through the experience of giving them a Christmas
tree, she determined to devote to their use a piece
of land on the borders of the village, formerly used
as a fair ground. This work is to have local
value for the children of this community, and has been
used as a demonstration center of the efficiency of
recreation as a moral discipline among the young.
But most communities have not so much
money to spend. The proposal of a play-ground
or of a gymnasium is itself sufficient to condemn the
doctrine of play. “We cannot afford it,”
settles the whole question. In the country expensive
apparatus is not necessary; nor do the farmer’s
son and daughter require in recreation so much physical
exercise. The gymnasium is an artificial and
expensive machinery for inducing sweat, but the farmer
needs no such artificial machine. The problem
is purely one of play, not of exercise. For this
purpose a careful study of the community, and of its
tendencies and inclinations, is necessary. The
great essential of recreation in the country is the
opportunity to meet and to talk. Therefore the
social life of gatherings in the church, and in the
schoolhouse, no matter what their program, provided
it be innocent, is valuable. Farmers will attend
an auction, and go a long way to a horse-race, or
gather at a fair, without any intention of buying or
selling. The fundamental service rendered by the
county fair and the auction is an opportunity afforded
to converse. This exercise of the tongue is far
more important in rural recreation than the exercise
of the biceps. But country people cannot talk
without an occasion which unlocks their tongues.
They must not be directly solicited to converse or
they are silent. If the occasion is provided and
is made to be sufficiently plausible its greatest
success will be in conversation.
In almost every country community,
therefore, there should be revival, in various forms,
of the old “Bees,” which had so much of
a place in the former economy. If there is a
widow who has no one to cut her wood, the men of the
country church should assemble to do it. If there
is a household whose bread winner and husbandman has
died at the time of planting corn, let the men of
the community gather at an appointed day and till
the ground for the family, whose grief is greater at
that moment than their need. Let the women of
the community assemble at noon to provide an abundant
repast. This was recently done by a countryside,
at the instigation of the minister, and the effect
of it was lasting in its values as well as intense
in the joy of the day’s work. It seems,
in view of the need of recreation, that no other quality
is so important in the country community as a lively
leader. Resourceful, energetic and fertile men
in the rural ministry can accomplish vastly more than
conventional, orderly and proper men.
The church in which I began my ministry
used to have a play every Christmas. We built
out the pulpit platform with boards, we hung it around
with curtains, giving dressing-room space, and we placed
lanterns in front for foot-lights. The first
play we gave made us anxious, for the neighborhood
was an old Quaker settlement; but we found that the
Quakers enjoyed the play immensely and were the best
actors. We made it a genuine expression of the
Christmas spirit. We abolished the old “speaking
pieces.” Our little stage offered the young
people team work, instead of individual elocution.
The rehearsals filled a whole month with happy and
valuable meetings. Everybody co-operated in the
labor necessary to prepare the decorations and to
take them down, during Christmas week, and on the
night of the play everybody was on hand, Catholic,
Protestant and heathen.
The holidays of the passing year suggest
the recreations of the country church. These
should not necessarily be productive of sweat, but
the country boy and girl do need the recreation of
laughter and happy meeting and social liveliness.
Farm work is lonely and monotonous. Such immorality
as there is in the country has direct connection with
the tedium and dullness of long hours out-doors, alone.
The recreations of country life should be meetings
for the celebration of great events of the year.
Easter expresses ideas which are age-old among country
people: it is both a pagan festival and a Christian
anniversary. If Easter is developed in a celebration
of song or procession, of sermon and of decoration,
with full use of its symbolic value, it is sure to
bring the whole countryside together, in an experience
of the New Year rising from the grave of winter and
of the divine Lord risen from the dead.
Most country communities have no such
celebration. In very many the whole year passes
without neighbors meeting for a common social experience.
This is why people move to the city, because every
city, great and small, has in the course of the year
some events which bring all the people to the curbstone.
Country life has few such times and therefore it is
dull, because the richest experience of mankind is
the experience of common social joy. The best
recreation is acquaintance and conversation.
The farmer’s son spends many hours in silence.
He wants someone to help him to talk, and to talk
unto some purpose.
The Fourth of July is celebrated in
Rock Creek, an Illinois community, by a “wild
animal show.” Instead of explosives, which
are discouraged, the boys of the community bring together
in small cages their animal pets. The boys are
encouraged to make small carts for the transportation
of their pets, and the crowning event of the day is
the procession of these carts, in an open place, before
the great dinner, at which the countryside sits down
together.
Recreation in the country, above all,
should revolve about something to eat. The farmer’s
business is to feed the world, and country people
love, above all things, the social joy of eating.
Farmers’ wives are the best cooks and the country
household perpetuates its culinary traditions.
Especially does a permanent farm population enrich
its household tradition with delicious recipes and
beautiful customs of the table. Thanksgiving
Day should be the great celebration of the round year
in the country. What a comment upon the country
community it is that so few communities in the country
meet together, in response to the President’s
proclamation of thanksgiving, to express gratitude
unto the bountiful Father of all.
The country church should minister
to country people in some effective gathering of all
the countryside. A most fruitful method now in
use is a corn judging contest for the boys.
In the Middle West the Corn Clubs
for boys have had an extraordinary value, and in the
South, also, the Farmer’s Co-operative Demonstration
Work has made use of the boys in the country community
for demonstrating progressive methods on the farm.
Thanksgiving Day can be prepared for in the preceding
spring, and the boys and girls who have managed a garden,
or half acre, through the summer can make their showing
at that time. Such a competitive showing in the
country, in the production of the staple crop, is
sure to bring together the whole countryside.
The local history of the country community
is a fruitful source of recreation. Farmers look
to the past, and even the new people in the country
are keen to hear the story of the old settlers and
of the early pioneers. Nothing is of greater
value in developing and refreshing country life than
to enrich it by celebrating its early history.
Recreation is essential to the moral
life of any people. It is the constructive method
of making individuals into good citizens. Especially
valuable is it as a means of educating the young people
and the working people of the community. The
craving for this social training and ethical experience
drives many out of the country community. Conversely,
training in social morality is to be undertaken especially
by the church, which possesses the conscience of the
country community. This training is expressed
in the one phrase; the promotion of recreation.