THE FATHER AT THE TABLE.
By John L. Sewall
[Rev. John L. Sewall, in the Congregationalist.] We all agree in theory with the suggestion of a quaint little book on domestic life: “The right administration of the table is an important item in home education. The meals are more than means for sustaining physical wants; they are opportunities of improvement and social happiness. Is there danger of affixing undue importance to that which may teach, at the rate of three lessons a day, punctuality, order, neatness, temperance, self-denial, kindness, generosity, and hospitality?” If these lessons are to be taught, some one must give thought to preparing and impressing them, and this burden should not be put upon the mother alone. In ancient days, when dining was a fine art, every feast had its master, who not only regulated the potations, but controlled the various courses of intellectual entertainment, the choice of themes, and the direction of thought. The average meal of the typical American home will not suffer from similar guidance, and who, if not the father, shall undertake this duty? Table manners indeed must be taught, line upon line, but there are other lessons than those of forks and spoons and the proper dimensions of a mouthful. In many of the homes where these words will be read, meal-time is the father’s only work-day chance for genuine acquaintance with his children, following their daily work and play, keeping in touch with their progress, and sharing their ideas and purposes. Unrecognized, this chance will pass unimproved; appreciated, it may become a priceless opportunity. The father may direct and not simply drift upon the stream of talk, which with five vigorous children around him is not likely to suffer from feebleness of volume, and may easily pass into uselessness or ill-tempered disputation. Let the father plan somewhat for topics, and skillfully bring them forward in a natural manner. Above all things, let him thus drive out personal and petty discussion of neighborhood affairs, which are unworthy of minds having or hoping for any greatness. One lovely home has its meal-times spoiled, according to my thought and feeling, by perpetual attention to minute details of the affairs of other people. As a result a large circle of bright and otherwise finely-trained children are being taught by their elders some sad lessons of petty gossip. There is no reason why large themes should not have brief and bright discussion at the table. In these days, when current events are so engrossing, when the doings of our own nation and of other lands have so much which children ought to know and in which their schools are now frequently trying to interest them, the father’s duty at the table is a plain one. Each child’s progress in school work, favorite lines of study, questions of school ethics, kindly and just judgment of the traits and deeds of schoolmates, reports of one’s reading items in the daily press worth noticing—here are a few of the directions in which a father may turn the thought and conversation at meal-time, so that it shall be equally pleasant and profitable. Success in this, however, means earnest thought, hard work, constant struggle against selfish absorption in one’s personal moods, and unwavering patience. One more privilege and duty of the father at the table deserves emphasis. It is here that the Christian father’s priestly function may reveal itself, not with unnatural obtrusiveness, but with great and vital power. The blessing at the beginning of the meal must be thoughtful and not mechanical; and there is, in my judgment, no such hour or place for week-day family worship as at the breakfast table, when all the family are together for the first (and sometimes the last) time in the day. The waiting fruit or cereal will suffer no harm while there comes a reading from the Sabbath-school lesson study, or a familiar psalm recited in unison, and a prayer, in which the family gratitude shall be voiced, with specific petitions for daily needs. There is no father so hurried by the approaching train or electric car that he can not, under ordinary circumstances, accomplish this, maintaining thus the reality of family worship, while escaping the formalism which has had so much to do with its disappearance. If to these things the father is willing to give thought and persistent effort, great will be his reward.