What we remember best is that which we learned dramatically. “The fact acted out is the fact remembered,” says Mrs. Herts. What we remember out of books is that which we have in some fashion ourselves reproduced. Our memories of the Bible even are chiefly those related to some dramatic event, such as the ritual of the church, a revival or some dramatic method which was used incidentally or purposefully in our Bible study. Letting the children act out such stories as those of Moses, Joseph and Samuel, as is being done in many of our church schools to-day, not only arouses interest but helps to fix the knowledge of the Bible’s wonderful hero stories firmly in their minds. “That which the child understands,” says Gesell, “must bear an intimate and personal relation. Just as he must take into his hands the concrete thing he studies, and by physical contact understand it, so, to understand thought, emotion, character, he must assimilate them, lose himself in them, and become for the time being that thing which he interprets. Through such interpretation the child touches heights and depths which otherwise might never enter into his experience. Life becomes larger as he learns to lay aside his own limitations and put himself in the other man’s place. He need not wait to enlist in the army to become a soldier, nor carry a real gun to acquire a martial step. He need not do wrong himself in order to know the remorse of wrongdoing.” A child who merely reads about a foreign people gathers only a dull catalog of external facts, which he soon forgets; but the child who puts on a foreign costume and endeavors to imitate the actions of its owner begins to get from his experiences the feeling which the other has. “Recently I went into a practice school connected with the University of Chicago,” writes President Faunce, “where I saw the children gathered round a teacher who was reading to them the poem of ‘Hiawatha,’ and their eyes were wide with wonder. Then they went over into the Field Columbian Museum and saw the materials of Indian life, the tents and the wampum, the feathers and the moccasins, and all the utensils of the Indian household. Then they returned and modeled in clay an Indian village, with Hiawatha at one end of it, and all over it the marks of the creative imagination.” In contrast, Dr. Faunce says: “I too learned ‘Hiawatha,’ side by side with Mr. Colburn’s ingenuities. I could spell the name of every tree in Hiawatha’s forest, but would not have known one of them if I had seen it. I could pronounce the name of every beast on the American continent or in Noah’s ark, but knew nothing about any one of them.”