In contrast with this the presence of an altar or nursery shrine, though not a plaything, gives a different tone to play—­a tone of joy and heavenliness that go down into the soul and take root there to grow into something lasting and beautiful.  There are flowers to be brought, and lights, and small processions, and evening recollection with quietness of devotion, with security in the sense of heavenly protection, with the realization of the “great cloud of witnesses” who are around to make play safe and holy, and there is through it all the gracious call to things higher, to be strong, to be unselfish, to be self-controlled, to be worthy of these protectors and friends in heaven.

There is another side also to the question of nursery play, and that is what may be called the play-values of the things provided.  Mechanical toys are wonderful, but beyond an artificial interest which comes mostly from the elders, there is very little lasting delight in them for children.  They belong to the system of over-indulgence and over-stimulation which measures the value of things by their price.  Their worst fault is that they do all there is to be done, while the child looks on and has nothing to do.  The train or motor rushes round and round, the doll struts about and bleats “papa,” “mama,” the Teddy-bear growls and dances, and the owner has but to wind them up, which is very poor amusement.  Probably they are better after they have been over-wound and the mechanical part has given way, and they have come to the hard use that belongs to their proper position as playthings.  If a distinction may be drawn between toys and playthings, toys are of very little play-value, they stand for fancy play, to be fiddled with; while playthings stand as symbols of real life, the harder and more primitive side of life taking the highest rank, and all that they do is really done by the child.  This is the real play-value.  Even things that are not playthings at all, sticks and stones and shells, have this possibility in them.  Things which have been found have a history of their own, which gives them precedence over what comes from a shop; but the highest value of all belongs to the things which children have made entirely themselves—­bows and arrows, catapults, clay marbles, though imperfectly round, home-made boats and kites.  The play-value grows in direct proportion to the amount of personal share which children have in the making and in the use of their playthings.  And in this we ought cordially to agree with them.

After the nursery age, in the school or school-room, play divides into two lines—­organized games, of which we hear a great deal in school at present, and home play.  They are not at all the same thing.  Both have something in their favour.  So much has been written of late about the value of organized games, how they bring out unselfishness, prompt and unquestioning obedience, playing for one’s side and not for oneself, etc., that it seems as if