Talks to Teachers on Psychology and to Students on Some of Life’s Ideals
{"WorkMasterId":7518,"WpPageId":288903,"ParentWpPageId":193821,"Slug":"talks-to-teachers","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/william-james/talks-to-teachers/","RelativeUrl":"theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/william-james/talks-to-teachers/","HasFullText":true,"RawHtmlLength":457897,"CleanHtmlLength":402199,"Kicker":"Philosophy Work","Title":"Talks to Teachers on Psychology and to Students on Some of Life\u0027s Ideals","Deck":"James applies psychology to education, attention, habit, interest, conduct, ideals, and the moral energies of life.","BackLink":{"Text":"Back to William James","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/william-james/"},"AuthorCard":{"Label":"Author","Title":"William James","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/william-james/","MediaHref":"","ImageSrc":"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/william-james-01-alice-boughton-portrait.jpg","ImageAlt":"William James by Alice M. Boughton","FilterTerra":"North America","ClickText":"William James","ClickHref":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/william-james/","Copies":["1842 CE – 1910 CE","New York City, New York","American philosopher and psychologist whose pragmatism, radical empiricism, stream-of-consciousness psychology, pluralism, and philosophy of religion reshaped modern philosophy."]},"ContextCards":[{"Label":"Period","Key":"Period:4","Title":"Modern History","DateText":"1800 CE – 1944 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-modern-history/"},{"Label":"Era","Key":"Era:11","Title":"Long 19th Century","DateText":"1870 CE – 1913 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-modern-history/philosophers-of-the-long-19th-century/"},{"Label":"Composition","Title":"1899 CE","Url":"","DateText":""}],"DateNote":"Displayed as 1899 CE for the published lectures.","GeoCards":[{"Label":"Region","Key":"Region:1"},{"Label":"Terra Avita","Key":"TerraAvita:6"},{"Label":"Terra Avita Region","Key":"TerraAvitaRegion:25"},{"Label":"Modern Country","Key":"Country:USA:6"}],"OriginalTitle":"Talks to Teachers on Psychology and to Students on Some of Life\u0027s Ideals","Language":"English","DisciplineCards":[{"Label":"Primary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:ethics"},{"Label":"Secondary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:philosophy-of-mind"}],"Tradition":"American pragmatism, radical empiricism, psychology, moral philosophy, and philosophy of religion","FullText":{"Title":"Full Text","Copy":"Public-domain full text from Project Gutenberg eBook #16287 .","Url":"","Label":"","Kicker":"","Cards":[]},"CoreThesis":["James applies psychology to education, attention, habit, interest, conduct, ideals, and the moral energies of life."],"Classification":{"AlternateTitles":"Talks to Teachers; Talks to Students","KeyConcepts":"education; habit; attention; interest; conduct; ideals; psychology","Methodology":"Direct William James work-cluster record based on SEP, IEP, Britannica, Harvard/Houghton, William James Studies, public edition surfaces, catalog records, and scholarship. No full text is imported.","Structure":"Work page with explicit integer display year, date note, evidence note, source linkage, and no full-text badge."},"Arguments":["James applies psychology to education, attention, habit, interest, conduct, ideals, and the moral energies of life."],"Influence":{"InfluencedBy":"Charles Sanders Peirce, British empiricism, Renouvier, Darwinian science, psychical research, medical psychology, religious experience, Henry James Sr., Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Harvard intellectual culture.","InfluenceOn":""},"Significance":["Accepted as a direct James work through public edition, catalog, and education/psychology scholarship.","James remains central for pragmatism, truth, belief, experience, pluralism, stream of consciousness, religious experience, psychology, moral choice, and democratic public philosophy."],"EvidenceNote":["Accepted as a direct James work through public edition, catalog, and education/psychology scholarship."],"MainSections":[{"Kind":"RawSection","Title":"Full Versions","BodyHtml":"\u003cdiv class=\"dz-philo__full-version-grid\"\u003e\n \u003carticle class=\"dz-philo__full-version-card\"\u003e\n \u003cp class=\"dz-philo__full-version-provider\"\u003eProject Gutenberg\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003ch3 class=\"dz-philo__full-version-title\"\u003eProject Gutenberg eBook #16287\u003c/h3\u003e\n \u003cp class=\"dz-philo__full-version-meta\"\u003eHtmlText · Imported\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003ca class=\"dz-philo__full-version-link\" href=\"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16287\"\u003eOpen full version\u003c/a\u003e\n \u003c/article\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e"},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Core Thesis","Paragraphs":["James applies psychology to education, attention, habit, interest, conduct, ideals, and the moral energies of life."]},{"Kind":"FieldSection","Title":"Classification","Fields":[{"Label":"Alternate Titles","Value":"Talks to Teachers; Talks to Students"},{"Label":"Key Concepts","Value":"education; habit; attention; interest; conduct; ideals; psychology"},{"Label":"Methodology","Value":"Direct William James work-cluster record based on SEP, IEP, Britannica, Harvard/Houghton, William James Studies, public edition surfaces, catalog records, and scholarship. No full text is imported."},{"Label":"Structure","Value":"Work page with explicit integer display year, date note, evidence note, source linkage, and no full-text badge."}]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Arguments","Paragraphs":["James applies psychology to education, attention, habit, interest, conduct, ideals, and the moral energies of life."]},{"Kind":"FieldSection","Title":"Influence","Fields":[{"Label":"Influenced By","Value":"Charles Sanders Peirce, British empiricism, Renouvier, Darwinian science, psychical research, medical psychology, religious experience, Henry James Sr., Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Harvard intellectual culture."},{"Label":"Influence On","Value":"American pragmatism, radical empiricism, psychology, phenomenology of experience, philosophy of religion, pluralism, moral psychology, process thought, analytic pragmatism, and modern discussions of consciousness."}]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Significance","Paragraphs":["Accepted as a direct James work through public edition, catalog, and education/psychology scholarship.","James remains central for pragmatism, truth, belief, experience, pluralism, stream of consciousness, religious experience, psychology, moral choice, and democratic public philosophy."]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Evidence Note","Paragraphs":["Accepted as a direct James work through public edition, catalog, and education/psychology scholarship."]},{"Kind":"RawSection","Title":"Full Text","BodyHtml":"\u003cp class=\"dz-philo__section-copy dz-philo__full-text-source\"\u003ePublic-domain full text from \u003ca href=\"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16287\"\u003eProject Gutenberg eBook #16287\u003c/a\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003carticle class=\"dz-philo__full-text-body\"\u003e\r\n\u003ch1\u003eTALKS TO TEACHERS\u003c/h1\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ch2\u003eON PSYCHOLOGY:\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ch2\u003eAND TO STUDENTS ON SOME OF LIFE\u0027S IDEALS,\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ch2\u003eBy WILLIAM JAMES\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ch4\u003eNEW YORK\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nHENRY HOLT AND COMPANY\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n1925\u003c/h4\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ch5\u003eCOPYRIGHT, 1899, 1900\u003c/h5\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ch5\u003eBY WILLIAM JAMES\u003c/h5\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ch5\u003ePRESS OF GEO. H. ELLIS CO. (INC.) BOSTON\u003c/h5\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003ch2\u003ePREFACE.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn 1892 I was asked by the Harvard Corporation to give a few\r\npublic lectures on psychology to the Cambridge teachers. The talks\r\nnow printed form the substance of that course, which has since then\r\nbeen delivered at various places to various teacher-audiences. I\r\nhave found by experience that what my hearers seem least to relish\r\nis analytical technicality, and what they most care for is concrete\r\npractical application. So I have gradually weeded out the former,\r\nand left the latter unreduced; and now, that I have at last written\r\nout the lectures, they contain a minimum of what is deemed\r\n\u0027scientific\u0027 in psychology, and are practical and popular in the\r\nextreme.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSome of my colleagues may possibly shake their heads at this;\r\nbut in taking my cue from what has seemed to me to be the feeling\r\nof the audiences I believe that I am shaping my book so as to\r\nsatisfy the more genuine public need.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTeachers, of course, will miss the minute divisions,\r\nsubdivisions, and definitions, the lettered and numbered headings,\r\nthe variations of type, and all the other mechanical artifices on\r\nwhich they are accustomed to prop their minds. But my main desire\r\nhas been to make them conceive, and, if possible, reproduce\r\nsympathetically in their imagination, the mental life of their\r\npupil as the sort of active unity which he himself feels it to be.\r\n\u003ci\u003eHe\u003c/i\u003e doesn\u0027t chop himself into distinct processes and\r\ncompartments; and it would have frustrated this deeper purpose of\r\nmy book to make it look, when printed, like a Baedeker\u0027s handbook\r\nof travel or a text-book of arithmetic. So far as books printed\r\nlike this book force the fluidity of the facts upon the young\r\nteacher\u0027s attention, so far I am sure they tend to do his intellect\r\na service, even though they may leave unsatisfied a craving (not\r\naltogether without its legitimate grounds) for more nomenclature,\r\nhead-lines, and subdivisions.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eReaders acquainted with my larger books on Psychology will meet\r\nmuch familiar phraseology. In the chapters on habit and memory I\r\nhave even copied several pages verbatim, but I do not know that\r\napology is needed for such plagiarism as this.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe talks to students, which conclude the volume, were written\r\nin response to invitations to deliver \u0027addresses\u0027 to students at\r\nwomen\u0027s colleges. The first one was to the graduating class of the\r\nBoston Normal School of Gymnastics. Properly, it continues the\r\nseries of talks to teachers. The second and the third address\r\nbelong together, and continue another line of thought.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI wish I were able to make the second, \u0027On a Certain Blindness\r\nin Human Beings,\u0027 more impressive. It is more than the mere piece\r\nof sentimentalism which it may seem to some readers. It connects\r\nitself with a definite view of the world and of our moral relations\r\nto the same. Those who have done me the honor of reading my volume\r\nof philosophic essays will recognize that I mean the pluralistic or\r\nindividualistic philosophy. According to that philosophy, the truth\r\nis too great for any one actual mind, even though that mind be\r\ndubbed \u0027the Absolute,\u0027 to know the whole of it. The facts and\r\nworths of life need many cognizers to take them in. There is no\r\npoint of view absolutely public and universal. Private and\r\nuncommunicable perceptions always remain over, and the worst of it\r\nis that those who look for them from the outside never know\r\n\u003ci\u003ewhere\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe practical consequence of such a philosophy is the well-known\r\ndemocratic respect for the sacredness of individuality,\u0026mdash;is,\r\nat any rate, the outward tolerance of whatever is not itself\r\nintolerant. These phrases are so familiar that they sound now\r\nrather dead in our ears. Once they had a passionate inner meaning.\r\nSuch a passionate inner meaning they may easily acquire again if\r\nthe pretension of our nation to inflict its own inner ideals and\r\ninstitutions \u003ci\u003evi et armis\u003c/i\u003e upon Orientals should meet with a\r\nresistance as obdurate as so far it has been gallant and spirited.\r\nReligiously and philosophically, our ancient national doctrine of\r\nlive and let live may prove to have a far deeper meaning than our\r\npeople now seem to imagine it to possess.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003csmall\u003eCAMBRIDGE, MASS., March, 1899.\u003c/small\u003e \u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003chr style=\u0027width: 65%;\u0027 /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003eCONTENTS.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\u0027width: 65%;\u0027 /\u003e\r\n\u003ca href=\"#TALKS_TO_TEACHERS\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eTALKS TO TEACHERS.\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e \u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n \u003ca href=\"#I__PSYCHOLOGY_AND_THE_TEACHING_ART\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eI. PSYCHOLOGY AND\r\nTHE TEACHING ART\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe American educational organization,\u0026mdash;What teachers may\r\nexpect from psychology,\u0026mdash;Teaching methods must agree with\r\npsychology, but cannot be immediately deduced therefrom,\u0026mdash;The\r\nscience of teaching and the science of war,\u0026mdash;The educational\r\nuses of psychology defined,\u0026mdash;The teacher\u0027s duty toward\r\nchild-study.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#II__THE_STREAM_OF_CONSCIOUSNESS\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eII. THE STREAM OF\r\nCONSCIOUSNESS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOur mental life is a succession of conscious\r\n\u0027fields,\u0027\u0026mdash;They have a focus and a margin,\u0026mdash;This\r\ndescription contrasted with the theory of \u0027ideas,\u0027\u0026mdash;Wundt\u0027s\r\nconclusions, note.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#III__THE_CHILD_AS_A_BEHAVING_ORGANISM\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eIII. THE CHILD\r\nAS A BEHAVING ORGANISM\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eMind as pure reason and mind as practical guide,\u0026mdash;The\r\nlatter view the more fashionable one to-day,\u0026mdash;It will be\r\nadopted in this work,\u0026mdash;Why so?\u0026mdash;The teacher\u0027s function is\r\nto train pupils to behavior.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#IV__EDUCATION_AND_BEHAVIOR\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eIV. EDUCATION AND\r\nBEHAVIOR\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eEducation defined,\u0026mdash;Conduct is always its\r\noutcome,\u0026mdash;Different national ideals: Germany and England.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#V__THE_NECESSITY_OF_REACTIONS\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eV. THE NECESSITY OF\r\nREACTIONS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNo impression without expression,\u0026mdash;Verbal\r\nreproduction,\u0026mdash;Manual training,\u0026mdash;Pupils should know their\r\n\u0027marks\u0027.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#VI__NATIVE_REACTIONS_AND_ACQUIRED_REACTIONS\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eVI.\r\nNATIVE REACTIONS AND ACQUIRED REACTIONS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe acquired reactions must be preceded by native\r\nones,\u0026mdash;Illustration: teaching child to ask instead of\r\nsnatching,\u0026mdash;Man has more instincts than other mammals.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#VII__WHAT_THE_NATIVE_REACTIONS_ARE\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eVII. WHAT THE\r\nNATIVE REACTIONS ARE\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFear and\r\nlove,\u0026mdash;Curiosity,\u0026mdash;Imitation,\u0026mdash;Emulation,\u0026mdash;Forbidden\r\nby Rousseau,\u0026mdash;His error,\u0026mdash;Ambition, pugnacity, and pride.\r\nSoft pedagogics and the fighting\r\nimpulse,\u0026mdash;Ownership,\u0026mdash;Its educational\r\nuses,\u0026mdash;Constructiveness,\u0026mdash;Manual\r\nteaching,\u0026mdash;Transitoriness in instincts,\u0026mdash;Their order of\r\nsuccession.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#VIII__THE_LAWS_OF_HABIT\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eVIII. THE LAWS OF\r\nHABIT\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eGood and bad habits,\u0026mdash;Habit due to plasticity of organic\r\ntissues,\u0026mdash;The aim of education is to make useful habits\r\nautomatic,\u0026mdash;Maxims relative to habit-forming: 1. Strong\r\ninitiative,\u0026mdash;2. No exception,\u0026mdash;3. Seize first opportunity\r\nto act,\u0026mdash;4. Don\u0027t preach,\u0026mdash;Darwin and poetry: without\r\nexercise our capacities decay,\u0026mdash;The habit of mental and\r\nmuscular relaxation,\u0026mdash;Fifth maxim, keep the faculty of effort\r\ntrained,\u0026mdash;Sudden conversions compatible with laws of\r\nhabit,\u0026mdash;Momentous influence of habits on character.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#IX__THE_ASSOCIATION_OF_IDEAS\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eIX. THE ASSOCIATION OF\r\nIDEAS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA case of habit,\u0026mdash;The two laws, contiguity and\r\nsimilarity,\u0026mdash;The teacher has to build up useful systems of\r\nassociation,\u0026mdash;Habitual associations determine\r\ncharacter,\u0026mdash;Indeterminateness of our trains of\r\nassociation,\u0026mdash;We can trace them backward, but not foretell\r\nthem,\u0026mdash;Interest deflects,\u0026mdash;Prepotent parts of the\r\nfield,\u0026mdash;In teaching, multiply cues.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#X__INTEREST\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eX. INTEREST\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe child\u0027s native interests,\u0026mdash;How uninteresting things\r\nacquire an interest,\u0026mdash;Rules for the\r\nteacher,\u0026mdash;\u0027Preparation\u0027 of the mind for the lesson: the pupil\r\nmust have something to attend with,\u0026mdash;All later interests are\r\nborrowed from original ones.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#XI__ATTENTION\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eXI. ATTENTION\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eInterest and attention are two aspects of one\r\nfact,\u0026mdash;Voluntary attention comes in beats,\u0026mdash;Genius and\r\nattention,\u0026mdash;The subject must change to win\r\nattention,\u0026mdash;Mechanical aids,\u0026mdash;The physiological\r\nprocess,\u0026mdash;The new in the old is what excites\r\ninterest,\u0026mdash;Interest and effort are\r\ncompatible,\u0026mdash;Mind-wandering,\u0026mdash;Not fatal to mental\r\nefficiency.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#XII__MEMORY\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eXII. MEMORY\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eDue to association,\u0026mdash;No recall without a cue,\u0026mdash;Memory\r\nis due to brain-plasticity,\u0026mdash;Native\r\nretentiveness,\u0026mdash;Number of associations may practically be its\r\nequivalent,\u0026mdash;Retentiveness is a fixed property of the\r\nindividual,\u0026mdash;Memory \u003ci\u003eversus\u003c/i\u003e memories,\u0026mdash;Scientific\r\nsystem as help to memory,\u0026mdash;Technical\r\nmemories,\u0026mdash;Cramming,\u0026mdash;Elementary memory\r\nunimprovable,\u0026mdash;Utility of verbal\r\nmemorizing,\u0026mdash;Measurements of immediate memory,\u0026mdash;They\r\nthrow little light,\u0026mdash;Passion is the important factor in human\r\nefficiency,\u0026mdash;Eye-memory, ear-memory, etc.,\u0026mdash;The rate of\r\nforgetting, Ebbinghaus\u0027s results,\u0026mdash;Influence of the\r\nunreproducible,\u0026mdash;To remember, one must think and connect.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#XIII__THE_ACQUISITION_OF_IDEAS\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eXIII. THE ACQUISITION\r\nOF IDEAS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eEducation gives a stock of conceptions,\u0026mdash;The order of their\r\nacquisition,\u0026mdash;Value of verbal material,\u0026mdash;Abstractions of\r\ndifferent orders: when are they assimilable,\u0026mdash;False\r\nconceptions of children.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#XIV__APPERCEPTION\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eXIV. APPERCEPTION\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOften a mystifying idea,\u0026mdash;The process defined,\u0026mdash;The\r\nlaw of economy,\u0026mdash;Old-fogyism,\u0026mdash;How many types of\r\napperception?\u0026mdash;New heads of classification must continually be\r\ninvented,\u0026mdash;Alteration of the apperceiving mass,\u0026mdash;Class\r\nnames are what we work by,\u0026mdash;Few new fundamental conceptions\r\nacquired after twenty-five.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ca href=\"#XV__THE_WILL\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eXV. THE WILL\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe word defined,\u0026mdash;All consciousness tends to\r\naction,\u0026mdash;Ideo-motor action,\u0026mdash;Inhibition,\u0026mdash;The\r\nprocess of deliberation,\u0026mdash;Why so few of our ideas result in\r\nacts,\u0026mdash;The associationist account of the will,\u0026mdash;A balance\r\nof impulses and inhibitions,\u0026mdash;The over-impulsive and the\r\nover-obstructed type,\u0026mdash;The perfect type,\u0026mdash;The balky\r\nwill,\u0026mdash;What character building consists in,\u0026mdash;Right action\r\ndepends on right apperception of the case,\u0026mdash;Effort of will is\r\neffort of attention: the drunkard\u0027s dilemma,\u0026mdash;Vital importance\r\nof voluntary attention,\u0026mdash;Its amount may be\r\nindeterminate,\u0026mdash;Affirmation of free-will,\u0026mdash;Two types of\r\ninhibition,\u0026mdash;Spinoza on inhibition by a higher\r\ngood,\u0026mdash;Conclusion.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n \u003ca href=\"#TALKS_TO_STUDENTS\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eTALKS TO STUDENTS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n \u003ca href=\"#I__THE_GOSPEL_OF_RELAXATION\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eI. THE GOSPEL OF\r\nRELAXATION\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n \u003ca href=\"#II__ON_A_CERTAIN_BLINDNESS_IN_HUMAN_BEINGS\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eII. ON A\r\nCERTAIN BLINDNESS IN HUMAN BEINGS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n \u003ca href=\"#III__WHAT_MAKES_A_LIFE_SIGNIFICANT\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eIII. WHAT MAKES A\r\nLIFE SIGNIFICANT\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"TALKS_TO_TEACHERS\" id=\"TALKS_TO_TEACHERS\"\u003eTALKS TO\r\nTEACHERS\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"I__PSYCHOLOGY_AND_THE_TEACHING_ART\"\r\nid=\"I__PSYCHOLOGY_AND_THE_TEACHING_ART\" /\u003eI. PSYCHOLOGY AND THE\r\nTEACHING ART\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the general activity and uprising of ideal interests which\r\nevery one with an eye for fact can discern all about us in American\r\nlife, there is perhaps no more promising feature than the\r\nfermentation which for a dozen years or more has been going on\r\namong the teachers. In whatever sphere of education their functions\r\nmay lie, there is to be seen among them a really inspiring amount\r\nof searching of the heart about the highest concerns of their\r\nprofession. The renovation of nations begins always at the top,\r\namong the reflective members of the State, and spreads slowly\r\noutward and downward. The teachers of this country, one may say,\r\nhave its future in their hands. The earnestness which they at\r\npresent show in striving to enlighten and strengthen themselves is\r\nan index of the nation\u0027s probabilities of advance in all ideal\r\ndirections. The outward organization of education which we have in\r\nour United States is perhaps, on the whole, the best organization\r\nthat exists in any country. The State school systems give a\r\ndiversity and flexibility, an opportunity for experiment and\r\nkeenness of competition, nowhere else to be found on such an\r\nimportant scale. The independence of so many of the colleges and\r\nuniversities; the give and take of students and instructors between\r\nthem all; their emulation, and their happy organic relations to the\r\nlower schools; the traditions of instruction in them, evolved from\r\nthe older American recitation-method (and so avoiding on the one\r\nhand the pure lecture-system prevalent in Germany and Scotland,\r\nwhich considers too little the individual student, and yet not\r\ninvolving the sacrifice of the instructor to the individual\r\nstudent, which the English tutorial system would seem too often to\r\nentail),\u0026mdash;all these things (to say nothing of that coeducation\r\nof the sexes in whose benefits so many of us heartily believe), all\r\nthese things, I say, are most happy features of our scholastic\r\nlife, and from them the most sanguine auguries may be drawn.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eHaving so favorable an organization, all we need is to\r\nimpregnate it with geniuses, to get superior men and women working\r\nmore and more abundantly in it and for it and at it, and in a\r\ngeneration or two America may well lead the education of the world.\r\nI must say that I look forward with no little confidence to the day\r\nwhen that shall be an accomplished fact.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNo one has profited more by the fermentation of which I speak,\r\nin pedagogical circles, than we psychologists. The desire of the\r\nschoolteachers for a completer professional training, and their\r\naspiration toward the \u0027professional\u0027 spirit in their work, have led\r\nthem more and more to turn to us for light on fundamental\r\nprinciples. And in these few hours which we are to spend together\r\nyou look to me, I am sure, for information concerning the mind\u0027s\r\noperations, which may enable you to labor more easily and\r\neffectively in the several schoolrooms over which you preside.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFar be it from me to disclaim for psychology all title to such\r\nhopes. Psychology ought certainly to give the teacher radical help.\r\nAnd yet I confess that, acquainted as I am with the height of some\r\nof your expectations, I feel a little anxious lest, at the end of\r\nthese simple talks of mine, not a few of you may experience some\r\ndisappointment at the net results. In other words, I am not sure\r\nthat you may not be indulging fancies that are just a shade\r\nexaggerated. That would not be altogether astonishing, for we have\r\nbeen having something like a \u0027boom\u0027 in psychology in this country.\r\nLaboratories and professorships have been founded, and reviews\r\nestablished. The air has been full of rumors. The editors of\r\neducational journals and the arrangers of conventions have had to\r\nshow themselves enterprising and on a level with the novelties of\r\nthe day. Some of the professors have not been unwilling to\r\nco-operate, and I am not sure even that the publishers have been\r\nentirely inert. \u0027The new psychology\u0027 has thus become a term to\r\nconjure up portentous ideas withal; and you teachers, docile and\r\nreceptive and aspiring as many of you are, have been plunged in an\r\natmosphere of vague talk about our science, which to a great extent\r\nhas been more mystifying than enlightening. Altogether it does seem\r\nas if there were a certain fatality of mystification laid upon the\r\nteachers of our day. The matter of their profession, compact enough\r\nin itself, has to be frothed up for them in journals and\r\ninstitutes, till its outlines often threaten to be lost in a kind\r\nof vast uncertainty. Where the disciples are not independent and\r\ncritical-minded enough (and I think that, if you teachers in the\r\nearlier grades have any defect\u0026mdash;the slightest touch of a\r\ndefect in the world\u0026mdash;it is that you are a mite too docile), we\r\nare pretty sure to miss accuracy and balance and measure in those\r\nwho get a license to lay down the law to them from above.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs regards this subject of psychology, now, I wish at the very\r\nthreshold to do what I can to dispel the mystification. So I say at\r\nonce that in my humble opinion there \u003ci\u003eis\u003c/i\u003e no \u0027new psychology\u0027\r\nworthy of the name. There is nothing but the old psychology which\r\nbegan in Locke\u0027s time, plus a little physiology of the brain and\r\nsenses and theory of evolution, and a few refinements of\r\nintrospective detail, for the most part without adaptation to the\r\nteacher\u0027s use. It is only the fundamental conceptions of psychology\r\nwhich are of real value to the teacher; and they, apart from the\r\naforesaid theory of evolution, are very far from being new.\u0026mdash;I\r\ntrust that you will see better what I mean by this at the end of\r\nall these talks.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI say moreover that you make a great, a very great mistake, if\r\nyou think that psychology, being the science of the mind\u0027s laws, is\r\nsomething from which you can deduce definite programmes and schemes\r\nand methods of instruction for immediate schoolroom use. Psychology\r\nis a science, and teaching is an art; and sciences never generate\r\narts directly out of themselves. An intermediary inventive mind\r\nmust make the application, by using its originality.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe science of logic never made a man reason rightly, and the\r\nscience of ethics (if there be such a thing) never made a man\r\nbehave rightly. The most such sciences can do is to help us to\r\ncatch ourselves up and check ourselves, if we start to reason or to\r\nbehave wrongly; and to criticise ourselves more articulately after\r\nwe have made mistakes. A science only lays down lines within which\r\nthe rules of the art must fall, laws which the follower of the art\r\nmust not transgress; but what particular thing he shall positively\r\ndo within those lines is left exclusively to his own genius. One\r\ngenius will do his work well and succeed in one way, while another\r\nsucceeds as well quite differently; yet neither will transgress the\r\nlines.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe art of teaching grew up in the schoolroom, out of\r\ninventiveness and sympathetic concrete observation. Even where (as\r\nin the case of Herbart) the advancer of the art was also a\r\npsychologist, the pedagogics and the psychology ran side by side,\r\nand the former was not derived in any sense from the latter. The\r\ntwo were congruent, but neither was subordinate. And so everywhere\r\nthe teaching must \u003ci\u003eagree\u003c/i\u003e with the psychology, but need not\r\nnecessarily be the only kind of teaching that would so agree; for\r\nmany diverse methods of teaching may equally well agree with\r\npsychological laws.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo know psychology, therefore, is absolutely no guarantee that\r\nwe shall be good teachers. To advance to that result, we must have\r\nan additional endowment altogether, a happy tact and ingenuity to\r\ntell us what definite things to say and do when the pupil is before\r\nus. That ingenuity in meeting and pursuing the pupil, that tact for\r\nthe concrete situation, though they are the alpha and omega of the\r\nteacher\u0027s art, are things to which psychology cannot help us in the\r\nleast.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe science of psychology, and whatever science of general\r\npedagogics may be based on it, are in fact much like the science of\r\nwar. Nothing is simpler or more definite than the principles of\r\neither. In war, all you have to do is to work your enemy into a\r\nposition from which the natural obstacles prevent him from escaping\r\nif he tries to; then to fall on him in numbers superior to his own,\r\nat a moment when you have led him to think you far away; and so,\r\nwith a minimum of exposure of your own troops, to hack his force to\r\npieces, and take the remainder prisoners. Just so, in teaching, you\r\nmust simply work your pupil into such a state of interest in what\r\nyou are going to teach him that every other object of attention is\r\nbanished from his mind; then reveal it to him so impressively that\r\nhe will remember the occasion to his dying day; and finally fill\r\nhim with devouring curiosity to know what the next steps in\r\nconnection with the subject are. The principles being so plain,\r\nthere would be nothing but victories for the masters of the\r\nscience, either on the battlefield or in the schoolroom, if they\r\ndid not both have to make their application to an incalculable\r\nquantity in the shape of the mind of their opponent. The mind of\r\nyour own enemy, the pupil, is working away from you as keenly and\r\neagerly as is the mind of the commander on the other side from the\r\nscientific general. Just what the respective enemies want and\r\nthink, and what they know and do not know, are as hard things for\r\nthe teacher as for the general to find out. Divination and\r\nperception, not psychological pedagogics or theoretic strategy, are\r\nthe only helpers here.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut, if the use of psychological principles thus be negative\r\nrather than positive, it does not follow that it may not be a great\r\nuse, all the same. It certainly narrows the path for experiments\r\nand trials. We know in advance, if we are psychologists, that\r\ncertain methods will be wrong, so our psychology saves us from\r\nmistakes. It makes us, moreover, more clear as to what we are\r\nabout. We gain confidence in respect to any method which we are\r\nusing as soon as we believe that it has theory as well as practice\r\nat its back. Most of all, it fructifies our independence, and it\r\nreanimates our interest, to see our subject at two different\r\nangles,\u0026mdash;to get a stereoscopic view, so to speak, of the\r\nyouthful organism who is our enemy, and, while handling him with\r\nall our concrete tact and divination, to be able, at the same time,\r\nto represent to ourselves the curious inner elements of his mental\r\nmachine. Such a complete knowledge as this of the pupil, at once\r\nintuitive and analytic, is surely the knowledge at which every\r\nteacher ought to aim.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFortunately for you teachers, the elements of the mental machine\r\ncan be clearly apprehended, and their workings easily grasped. And,\r\nas the most general elements and workings are just those parts of\r\npsychology which the teacher finds most directly useful, it follows\r\nthat the amount of this science which is necessary to all teachers\r\nneed not be very great. Those who find themselves loving the\r\nsubject may go as far as they please, and become possibly none the\r\nworse teachers for the fact, even though in some of them one might\r\napprehend a little loss of balance from the tendency observable in\r\nall of us to overemphasize certain special parts of a subject when\r\nwe are studying it intensely and abstractly. But for the great\r\nmajority of you a general view is enough, provided it be a true\r\none; and such a general view, one may say, might almost be written\r\non the palm of one\u0027s hand.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eLeast of all need you, merely \u003ci\u003eas teachers\u003c/i\u003e, deem it part\r\nof your duty to become contributors to psychological science or to\r\nmake psychological observations in a methodical or responsible\r\nmanner. I fear that some of the enthusiasts for child-study have\r\nthrown a certain burden on you in this way. By all means let\r\nchild-study go on,\u0026mdash;it is refreshing all our sense of the\r\nchild\u0027s life. There are teachers who take a spontaneous delight in\r\nfilling syllabuses, inscribing observations, compiling statistics,\r\nand computing the per cent. Child-study will certainly enrich their\r\nlives. And, if its results, as treated statistically, would seem on\r\nthe whole to have but trifling value, yet the anecdotes and\r\nobservations of which it in part consist do certainly acquaint us\r\nmore intimately with our pupils. Our eyes and ears grow quickened\r\nto discern in the child before us processes similar to those we\r\nhave read of as noted in the children,\u0026mdash;processes of which we\r\nmight otherwise have remained inobservant. But, for Heaven\u0027s sake,\r\nlet the rank and file of teachers be passive readers if they so\r\nprefer, and feel free not to contribute to the accumulation. Let\r\nnot the prosecution of it be preached as an imperative duty or\r\nimposed by regulation on those to whom it proves an exterminating\r\nbore, or who in any way whatever miss in themselves the appropriate\r\nvocation for it. I cannot too strongly agree with my colleague,\r\nProfessor M\u0026uuml;nsterberg, when he says that the teacher\u0027s\r\nattitude toward the child, being concrete and ethical, is\r\npositively opposed to the psychological observer\u0027s, which is\r\nabstract and analytic. Although some of us may conjoin the\r\nattitudes successfully, in most of us they must conflict.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe worst thing that can happen to a good teacher is to get a\r\nbad conscience about her profession because she feels herself\r\nhopeless as a psychologist. Our teachers are overworked already.\r\nEvery one who adds a jot or tittle of unnecessary weight to their\r\nburden is a foe of education. A bad conscience increases the weight\r\nof every other burden; yet I know that child-study, and other\r\npieces of psychology as well, have been productive of bad\r\nconscience in many a really innocent pedagogic breast. I should\r\nindeed be glad if this passing word from me might tend to dispel\r\nsuch a bad conscience, if any of you have it; for it is certainly\r\none of those fruits of more or less systematic mystification of\r\nwhich I have already complained. The best teacher may be the\r\npoorest contributor of child-study material, and the best\r\ncontributor may be the poorest teacher. No fact is more palpable\r\nthan this.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo much for what seems the most reasonable general attitude of\r\nthe teacher toward the subject which is to occupy our\r\nattention.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"II__THE_STREAM_OF_CONSCIOUSNESS\"\r\nid=\"II__THE_STREAM_OF_CONSCIOUSNESS\" /\u003eII. THE STREAM OF\r\nCONSCIOUSNESS\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI said a few minutes ago that the most general elements and\r\nworkings of the mind are all that the teacher absolutely needs to\r\nbe acquainted with for his purposes.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow the \u003ci\u003eimmediate\u003c/i\u003e fact which psychology, the science of\r\nmind, has to study is also the most general fact. It is the fact\r\nthat in each of us, when awake (and often when asleep), \u003ci\u003esome\r\nkind of consciousness is always going on\u003c/i\u003e. There is a stream, a\r\nsuccession of states, or waves, or fields (or of whatever you\r\nplease to call them), of knowledge, of feeling, of desire, of\r\ndeliberation, etc., that constantly pass and repass, and that\r\nconstitute our inner life. The existence of this stream is the\r\nprimal fact, the nature and origin of it form the essential\r\nproblem, of our science. So far as we class the states or fields of\r\nconsciousness, write down their several natures, analyze their\r\ncontents into elements, or trace their habits of succession, we are\r\non the descriptive or analytic level. So far as we ask where they\r\ncome from or why they are just what they are, we are on the\r\nexplanatory level.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn these talks with you, I shall entirely neglect the questions\r\nthat come up on the explanatory level. It must be frankly confessed\r\nthat in no fundamental sense do we know where our successive fields\r\nof consciousness come from, or why they have the precise inner\r\nconstitution which they do have. They certainly follow or accompany\r\nour brain states, and of course their special forms are determined\r\nby our past experiences and education. But, if we ask just\r\n\u003ci\u003ehow\u003c/i\u003e the brain conditions them, we have not the remotest\r\ninkling of an answer to give; and, if we ask just how the education\r\nmoulds the brain, we can speak but in the most abstract, general,\r\nand conjectural terms. On the other hand, if we should say that\r\nthey are due to a spiritual being called our Soul, which reacts on\r\nour brain states by these peculiar forms of spiritual energy, our\r\nwords would be familiar enough, it is true; but I think you will\r\nagree that they would offer little genuine explanatory meaning. The\r\ntruth is that we really \u003ci\u003edo not know\u003c/i\u003e the answers to the\r\nproblems on the explanatory level, even though in some directions\r\nof inquiry there may be promising speculations to be found. For our\r\npresent purposes I shall therefore dismiss them entirely, and turn\r\nto mere description. This state of things was what I had in mind\r\nwhen, a moment ago, I said there was no \u0027new psychology\u0027 worthy of\r\nthe name.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eWe have thus fields of consciousness\u003c/i\u003e,\u0026mdash;that is the\r\nfirst general fact; and the second general fact is that the\r\nconcrete fields are always complex. They contain sensations of our\r\nbodies and of the objects around us, memories of past experiences\r\nand thoughts of distant things, feelings of satisfaction and\r\ndissatisfaction, desires and aversions, and other emotional\r\nconditions, together with determinations of the will, in every\r\nvariety of permutation and combination.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn most of our concrete states of consciousness all these\r\ndifferent classes of ingredients are found simultaneously present\r\nto some degree, though the relative proportion they bear to one\r\nanother is very shifting. One state will seem to be composed of\r\nhardly anything but sensations, another of hardly anything but\r\nmemories, etc. But around the sensation, if one consider carefully,\r\nthere will always be some fringe of thought or will, and around the\r\nmemory some margin or penumbra of emotion or sensation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn most of our fields of consciousness there is a core of\r\nsensation that is very pronounced. You, for example, now, although\r\nyou are also thinking and feeling, are getting through your eyes\r\nsensations of my face and figure, and through your ears sensations\r\nof my voice. The sensations are the \u003ci\u003ecentre\u003c/i\u003e or \u003ci\u003efocus\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nthe thoughts and feelings the \u003ci\u003emargin\u003c/i\u003e, of your actually\r\npresent conscious field.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOn the other hand, some object of thought, some distant image,\r\nmay have become the focus of your mental attention even while I am\r\nspeaking,\u0026mdash;your mind, in short, may have wandered from the\r\nlecture; and, in that case, the sensations of my face and voice,\r\nalthough not absolutely vanishing from your conscious field, may\r\nhave taken up there a very faint and marginal place.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAgain, to take another sort of variation, some feeling connected\r\nwith your own body may have passed from a marginal to a focal\r\nplace, even while I speak.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe expressions \u0027focal object\u0027 and \u0027marginal object,\u0027 which we\r\nowe to Mr. Lloyd Morgan, require, I think, no further explanation.\r\nThe distinction they embody is a very important one, and they are\r\nthe first technical terms which I shall ask you to remember.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the successive mutations of our fields of consciousness, the\r\nprocess by which one dissolves into another is often very gradual,\r\nand all sorts of inner rearrangements of contents occur. Sometimes\r\nthe focus remains but little changed, while the margin alters\r\nrapidly. Sometimes the focus alters, and the margin stays.\r\nSometimes focus and margin change places. Sometimes, again, abrupt\r\nalterations of the whole field occur. There can seldom be a sharp\r\ndescription. All we know is that, for the most part, each field has\r\na sort of practical unity for its possessor, and that from this\r\npractical point of view we can class a field with other fields\r\nsimilar to it, by calling it a state of emotion, of perplexity, of\r\nsensation, of abstract thought, of volition, and the like.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eVague and hazy as such an account of our stream of consciousness\r\nmay be, it is at least secure from positive error and free from\r\nadmixture of conjecture or hypothesis. An influential school of\r\npsychology, seeking to avoid haziness of outline, has tried to make\r\nthings appear more exact and scientific by making the analysis more\r\nsharp.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe various fields of consciousness, according to this school,\r\nresult from a definite number of perfectly definite elementary\r\nmental states, mechanically associated into a mosaic or chemically\r\ncombined. According to some thinkers,\u0026mdash;Spencer, for example,\r\nor Taine,\u0026mdash;these resolve themselves at last into little\r\nelementary psychic particles or atoms of \u0027mind-stuff,\u0027 out of which\r\nall the more immediately known mental states are said to be built\r\nup. Locke introduced this theory in a somewhat vague form. Simple\r\n\u0027ideas\u0027 of sensation and reflection, as he called them, were for\r\nhim the bricks of which our mental architecture is built up. If I\r\never have to refer to this theory again, I shall refer to it as the\r\ntheory of \u0027ideas.\u0027 But I shall try to steer clear of it altogether.\r\nWhether it be true or false, it is at any rate only conjectural;\r\nand, for your practical purposes as teachers, the more unpretending\r\nconception of the stream of consciousness, with its total waves or\r\nfields incessantly changing, will amply suffice.\u003ca\r\nname=\"FNanchor_A_1\" id=\"FNanchor_A_1\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_1\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_1\" id=\"Footnote_A_1\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_1\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e In the\r\nlight of some of the expectations that are abroad concerning the\r\n\u0027new psychology,\u0027 it is instructive to read the unusually candid\r\nconfession of its founder Wundt, after his thirty years of\r\nlaboratory-experience:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"The service which it [the experimental method] can yield\r\nconsists essentially in perfecting our inner observation, or\r\nrather, as I believe, in making this really possible, in any exact\r\nsense. Well, has our experimental self-observation, so understood,\r\nalready accomplished aught of importance? No general answer to this\r\nquestion can be given, because in the unfinished state of our\r\nscience, there is, even inside of the experimental lines of\r\ninquiry, no universally accepted body of psychologic\r\ndoctrine….\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"In such a discord of opinions (comprehensible enough at a time\r\nof uncertain and groping development), the individual inquirer can\r\nonly tell for what views and insights he himself has to thank the\r\nnewer methods. And if I were asked in what for me the worth of\r\nexperimental observation in psychology has consisted, and still\r\nconsists, I should say that it has given me an entirely new idea of\r\nthe nature and connection of our inner processes. I learned in the\r\nachievements of the sense of sight to apprehend the fact of\r\ncreative mental synthesis…. From my inquiry into time-relations,\r\netc.,… I attained an insight into the close union of all those\r\npsychic functions usually separated by artificial abstractions and\r\nnames, such as ideation, feeling, will; and I saw the\r\nindivisibility and inner homogeneity, in all its phases, of the\r\nmental life. The chronometric study of association-processes\r\nfinally showed me that the notion of distinct mental \u0027images\u0027\r\n[\u003ci\u003ereproducirten Vorstellungen\u003c/i\u003e] was one of those numerous\r\nself-deceptions which are no sooner stamped in a verbal term than\r\nthey forthwith thrust non-existent fictions into the place of the\r\nreality. I learned to understand an \u0027idea\u0027 as a process no less\r\nmelting and fleeting than an act of feeling or of will, and I\r\ncomprehended the older doctrine of association of \u0027ideas\u0027 to be no\r\nlonger tenable…. Besides all this, experimental observation\r\nyielded much other information about the span of consciousness, the\r\nrapidity of certain processes, the exact numerical value of certain\r\npsychophysical data, and the like. But I hold all these more\r\nspecial results to be relatively insignificant by-products, and by\r\nno means the important thing.\"\u0026mdash;\u003ci\u003ePhilosophische Studien\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nx. 121-124. The whole passage should be read. As I interpret it, it\r\namounts to a complete espousal of the vaguer conception of the\r\nstream of thought, and a complete renunciation of the whole\r\nbusiness, still so industriously carried on in text-books, of\r\nchopping up \u0027the mind\u0027 into distinct units of composition or\r\nfunction, numbering these off, and labelling them by technical\r\nnames.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"III__THE_CHILD_AS_A_BEHAVING_ORGANISM\"\r\nid=\"III__THE_CHILD_AS_A_BEHAVING_ORGANISM\" /\u003eIII. THE CHILD AS A\r\nBEHAVING ORGANISM\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI wish now to continue the description of the peculiarities of\r\nthe stream of consciousness by asking whether we can in any\r\nintelligible way assign its \u003ci\u003efunctions\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt has two functions that are obvious: it leads to knowledge,\r\nand it leads to action.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eCan we say which of these functions is the more essential?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAn old historic divergence of opinion comes in here. Popular\r\nbelief has always tended to estimate the worth of a man\u0027s mental\r\nprocesses by their effects upon his practical life. But\r\nphilosophers have usually cherished a different view. \"Man\u0027s\r\nsupreme glory,\" they have said, \"is to be a \u003ci\u003erational\u003c/i\u003e being,\r\nto know absolute and eternal and universal truth. The uses of his\r\nintellect for practical affairs are therefore subordinate matters.\r\n\u0027The theoretic life\u0027 is his soul\u0027s genuine concern.\" Nothing can be\r\nmore different in its results for our personal attitude than to\r\ntake sides with one or the other of these views, and emphasize the\r\npractical or the theoretical ideal. In the latter case, abstraction\r\nfrom the emotions and passions and withdrawal from the strife of\r\nhuman affairs would be not only pardonable, but praiseworthy; and\r\nall that makes for quiet and contemplation should be regarded as\r\nconducive to the highest human perfection. In the former, the man\r\nof contemplation would be treated as only half a human being,\r\npassion and practical resource would become once more glories of\r\nour race, a concrete victory over this earth\u0027s outward powers of\r\ndarkness would appear an equivalent for any amount of passive\r\nspiritual culture, and conduct would remain as the test of every\r\neducation worthy of the name.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is impossible to disguise the fact that in the psychology of\r\nour own day the emphasis is transferred from the mind\u0027s purely\r\nrational function, where Plato and Aristotle, and what one may call\r\nthe whole classic tradition in philosophy had placed it, to the so\r\nlong neglected practical side. The theory of evolution is mainly\r\nresponsible for this. Man, we now have reason to believe, has been\r\nevolved from infra-human ancestors, in whom pure reason hardly\r\nexisted, if at all, and whose mind, so far as it can have had any\r\nfunction, would appear to have been an organ for adapting their\r\nmovements to the impressions received from the environment, so as\r\nto escape the better from destruction. Consciousness would thus\r\nseem in the first instance to be nothing but a sort of super-added\r\nbiological perfection,\u0026mdash;useless unless it prompted to useful\r\nconduct, and inexplicable apart from that consideration.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eDeep in our own nature the biological foundations of our\r\nconsciousness persist, undisguised and undiminished. Our sensations\r\nare here to attract us or to deter us, our memories to warn or\r\nencourage us, our feelings to impel, and our thoughts to restrain\r\nour behavior, so that on the whole we may prosper and our days be\r\nlong in the land. Whatever of transmundane metaphysical insight or\r\nof practically inapplicable \u0026aelig;sthetic perception or ethical\r\nsentiment we may carry in our interiors might at this rate be\r\nregarded as only part of the incidental excess of function that\r\nnecessarily accompanies the working of every complex machine.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI shall ask you now\u0026mdash;not meaning at all thereby to close\r\nthe theoretic question, but merely because it seems to me the point\r\nof view likely to be of greatest practical use to you as\r\nteachers\u0026mdash;to adopt with me, in this course of lectures, the\r\nbiological conception, as thus expressed, and to lay your own\r\nemphasis on the fact that man, whatever else he may be, is\r\nprimarily a practical being, whose mind is given him to aid in\r\nadapting him to this world\u0027s life.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the learning of all matters, we have to start with some one\r\ndeep aspect of the question, abstracting it as if it were the only\r\naspect; and then we gradually correct ourselves by adding those\r\nneglected other features which complete the case. No one believes\r\nmore strongly than I do that what our senses know as \u0027this world\u0027\r\nis only one portion of our mind\u0027s total environment and object.\r\nYet, because it is the primal portion, it is the \u003ci\u003esine qua\r\nnon\u003c/i\u003eof all the rest. If you grasp the facts about it firmly, you\r\nmay proceed to higher regions undisturbed. As our time must be so\r\nshort together, I prefer being elementary and fundamental to being\r\ncomplete, so I propose to you to hold fast to the ultra-simple\r\npoint of view.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe reasons why I call it so fundamental can be easily told.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFirst, human and animal psychology thereby become less\r\ndiscontinuous. I know that to some of you this will hardly seem an\r\nattractive reason, but there are others whom it will affect.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSecond, mental action is conditioned by brain action, and runs\r\nparallel therewith. But the brain, so far as we understand it, is\r\ngiven us for practical behavior. Every current that runs into it\r\nfrom skin or eye or ear runs out again into muscles, glands, or\r\nviscera, and helps to adapt the animal to the environment from\r\nwhich the current came. It therefore generalizes and simplifies our\r\nview to treat the brain life and the mental life as having one\r\nfundamental kind of purpose.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThird, those very functions of the mind that do not refer\r\ndirectly to this world\u0027s environment, the ethical utopias,\r\n\u0026aelig;sthetic visions, insights into eternal truth, and fanciful\r\nlogical combinations, could never be carried on at all by a human\r\nindividual, unless the mind that produced them in him were also\r\nable to produce more practically useful products. The latter are\r\nthus the more essential, or at least the more primordial\r\nresults.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFourth, the inessential \u0027unpractical\u0027 activities are themselves\r\nfar more connected with our behavior and our adaptation to the\r\nenvironment than at first sight might appear. No truth, however\r\nabstract, is ever perceived, that will not probably at some time\r\ninfluence our earthly action. You must remember that, when I talk\r\nof action here, I mean action in the widest sense. I mean speech, I\r\nmean writing, I mean yeses and noes, and tendencies \u0027from\u0027 things\r\nand tendencies \u0027toward\u0027 things, and emotional determinations; and I\r\nmean them in the future as well as in the immediate present. As I\r\ntalk here, and you listen, it might seem as if no action followed.\r\nYou might call it a purely theoretic process, with no practical\r\nresult. But it \u003ci\u003emust\u003c/i\u003e have a practical result. It cannot take\r\nplace at all and leave your conduct unaffected. If not to-day, then\r\non some far future day, you will answer some question differently\r\nby reason of what you are thinking now. Some of you will be led by\r\nmy words into new veins of inquiry, into reading special books.\r\nThese will develop your opinion, whether for or against. That\r\nopinion will in turn be expressed, will receive criticism from\r\nothers in your environment, and will affect your standing in their\r\neyes. We cannot escape our destiny, which is practical; and even\r\nour most theoretic faculties contribute to its working out.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThese few reasons will perhaps smooth the way for you to\r\nacquiescence in my proposal. As teachers, I sincerely think it will\r\nbe a sufficient conception for you to adopt of the youthful\r\npsychological phenomena handed over to your inspection if you\r\nconsider them from the point of view of their relation to the\r\nfuture conduct of their possessor. Sufficient at any rate as a\r\nfirst conception and as a main conception. You should regard your\r\nprofessional task as if it consisted chiefly and essentially in\r\n\u003ci\u003etraining the pupil to behavior\u003c/i\u003e; taking behavior, not in the\r\nnarrow sense of his manners, but in the very widest possible sense,\r\nas including every possible sort of fit reaction on the\r\ncircumstances into which he may find himself brought by the\r\nvicissitudes of life.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe reaction may, indeed, often be a negative reaction.\r\n\u003ci\u003eNot\u003c/i\u003e to speak, \u003ci\u003enot\u003c/i\u003e to move, is one of the most\r\nimportant of our duties, in certain practical emergencies. \"Thou\r\nshalt refrain, renounce, abstain\"! This often requires a great\r\neffort of will power, and, physiologically considered, is just as\r\npositive a nerve function as is motor discharge.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"IV__EDUCATION_AND_BEHAVIOR\"\r\nid=\"IV__EDUCATION_AND_BEHAVIOR\" /\u003eIV. EDUCATION AND BEHAVIOR\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn our foregoing talk we were led to frame a very simple\r\nconception of what an education means. In the last analysis it\r\nconsists in the organizing of \u003ci\u003eresources\u003c/i\u003e in the human being,\r\nof powers of conduct which shall fit him to his social and physical\r\nworld. An \u0027uneducated\u0027 person is one who is nonplussed by all but\r\nthe most habitual situations. On the contrary, one who is educated\r\nis able practically to extricate himself, by means of the examples\r\nwith which his memory is stored and of the abstract conceptions\r\nwhich he has acquired, from circumstances in which he never was\r\nplaced before. Education, in short, cannot be better described than\r\nby calling it \u003ci\u003ethe organization of acquired habits of conduct and\r\ntendencies to behavior\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo illustrate. You and I are each and all of us educated, in our\r\nseveral ways; and we show our education at this present moment by\r\ndifferent conduct. It would be quite impossible for me, with my\r\nmind technically and professionally organized as it is, and with\r\nthe optical stimulus which your presence affords, to remain sitting\r\nhere entirely silent and inactive. Something tells me that I am\r\nexpected to speak, and must speak; something forces me to keep on\r\nspeaking. My organs of articulation are continuously innervated by\r\noutgoing currents, which the currents passing inward at my eyes and\r\nthrough my educated brain have set in motion; and the particular\r\nmovements which they make have their form and order determined\r\naltogether by the training of all my past years of lecturing and\r\nreading. Your conduct, on the other hand, might seem at first sight\r\npurely receptive and inactive,\u0026mdash;leaving out those among you\r\nwho happen to be taking notes. But the very listening which you are\r\ncarrying on is itself a determinate kind of conduct. All the\r\nmuscular tensions of your body are distributed in a peculiar way as\r\nyou listen. Your head, your eyes, are fixed characteristically.\r\nAnd, when the lecture is over, it will inevitably eventuate in some\r\nstroke of behavior, as I said on the previous occasion: you may be\r\nguided differently in some special emergency in the schoolroom by\r\nwords which I now let fall.\u0026mdash;So it is with the impressions you\r\nwill make there on your pupil. You should get into the habit of\r\nregarding them all as leading to the acquisition by him of\r\ncapacities for behavior,\u0026mdash;emotional, social, bodily, vocal,\r\ntechnical, or what not. And, this being the case, you ought to feel\r\nwilling, in a general way, and without hair-splitting or farther\r\nado, to take up for the purposes of these lectures with the\r\nbiological conception of the mind, as of something given us for\r\npractical use. That conception will certainly cover the greater\r\npart of your own educational work.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf we reflect upon the various ideals of education that are\r\nprevalent in the different countries, we see that what they all aim\r\nat is to organize capacities for conduct. This is most immediately\r\nobvious in Germany, where the explicitly avowed aim of the higher\r\neducation is to turn the student into an instrument for advancing\r\nscientific discovery. The German universities are proud of the\r\nnumber of young specialists whom they turn out every\r\nyear,\u0026mdash;not necessarily men of any original force of intellect,\r\nbut men so trained to research that when their professor gives them\r\nan historical or philological thesis to prepare, or a bit of\r\nlaboratory work to do, with a general indication as to the best\r\nmethod, they can go off by themselves and use apparatus and consult\r\nsources in such a way as to grind out in the requisite number of\r\nmonths some little pepper-corn of new truth worthy of being added\r\nto the store of extant human information on that subject. Little\r\nelse is recognized in Germany as a man\u0027s title to academic\r\nadvancement than his ability thus to show himself an efficient\r\ninstrument of research.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn England, it might seem at first sight as if the higher\r\neducation of the universities aimed at the production of certain\r\nstatic types of character rather than at the development of what\r\none may call this dynamic scientific efficiency. Professor Jowett,\r\nwhen asked what Oxford could do for its students, is said to have\r\nreplied, \"Oxford can teach an English gentleman how to \u003ci\u003ebe\u003c/i\u003e an\r\nEnglish gentleman.\" But, if you ask what it means to \u0027be\u0027 an\r\nEnglish gentleman, the only reply is in terms of conduct and\r\nbehavior. An English gentleman is a bundle of specifically\r\nqualified reactions, a creature who for all the emergencies of life\r\nhas his line of behavior distinctly marked out for him in advance.\r\nHere, as elsewhere, England expects every man to do his duty.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"V__THE_NECESSITY_OF_REACTIONS\"\r\nid=\"V__THE_NECESSITY_OF_REACTIONS\" /\u003eV. THE NECESSITY OF\r\nREACTIONS\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf all this be true, then immediately one general aphorism\r\nemerges which ought by logical right to dominate the entire conduct\r\nof the teacher in the classroom.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eNo reception without reaction, no impression without\r\ncorrelative expression\u003c/i\u003e,\u0026mdash;this is the great maxim which the\r\nteacher ought never to forget.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAn impression which simply flows in at the pupil\u0027s eyes or ears,\r\nand in no way modifies his active life, is an impression gone to\r\nwaste. It is physiologically incomplete. It leaves no fruits behind\r\nit in the way of capacity acquired. Even as mere impression, it\r\nfails to produce its proper effect upon the memory; for, to remain\r\nfully among the acquisitions of this latter faculty, it must be\r\nwrought into the whole cycle of our operations. Its \u003ci\u003emotor\r\nconsequences\u003c/i\u003e are what clinch it. Some effect due to it in the\r\nway of an activity must return to the mind in the form of the\r\n\u003ci\u003esensation of having acted\u003c/i\u003e, and connect itself with the\r\nimpression. The most durable impressions are those on account of\r\nwhich we speak or act, or else are inwardly convulsed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe older pedagogic method of learning things by rote, and\r\nreciting them parrot-like in the schoolroom, rested on the truth\r\nthat a thing merely read or heard, and never verbally reproduced,\r\ncontracts the weakest possible adhesion in the mind. Verbal\r\nrecitation or reproduction is thus a highly important kind of\r\nreactive behavior on our impressions; and it is to be feared that,\r\nin the reaction against the old parrot-recitations as the beginning\r\nand end of instruction, the extreme value of verbal recitation as\r\nan element of complete training may nowadays be too much\r\nforgotten.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen we turn to modern pedagogics, we see how enormously the\r\nfield of reactive conduct has been extended by the introduction of\r\nall those methods of concrete object teaching which are the glory\r\nof our contemporary schools. Verbal reactions, useful as they are,\r\nare insufficient. The pupil\u0027s words may be right, but the\r\nconceptions corresponding to them are often direfully wrong. In a\r\nmodern school, therefore, they form only a small part of what the\r\npupil is required to do. He must keep notebooks, make drawings,\r\nplans, and maps, take measurements, enter the laboratory and\r\nperform experiments, consult authorities, and write essays. He must\r\ndo in his fashion what is often laughed at by outsiders when it\r\nappears in prospectuses under the title of \u0027original work,\u0027 but\r\nwhat is really the only possible training for the doing of original\r\nwork thereafter. The most colossal improvement which recent years\r\nhave seen in secondary education lies in the introduction of the\r\nmanual training schools; not because they will give us a people\r\nmore handy and practical for domestic life and better skilled in\r\ntrades, but because they will give us citizens with an entirely\r\ndifferent intellectual fibre. Laboratory work and shop work\r\nengender a habit of observation, a knowledge of the difference\r\nbetween accuracy and vagueness, and an insight into nature\u0027s\r\ncomplexity and into the inadequacy of all abstract verbal accounts\r\nof real phenomena, which once wrought into the mind, remain there\r\nas lifelong possessions. They confer precision; because, if you are\r\n\u003ci\u003edoing\u003c/i\u003e a thing, you must do it definitely right or definitely\r\nwrong. They give honesty; for, when you express yourself by making\r\nthings, and not by using words, it becomes impossible to\r\ndissimulate your vagueness or ignorance by ambiguity. They beget a\r\nhabit of self-reliance; they keep the interest and attention always\r\ncheerfully engaged, and reduce the teacher\u0027s disciplinary functions\r\nto a minimum.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOf the various systems of manual training, so far as woodwork is\r\nconcerned, the Swedish Sloyd system, if I may have an opinion on\r\nsuch matters, seems to me by far the best, psychologically\r\nconsidered. Manual training methods, fortunately, are being slowly\r\nbut surely introduced into all our large cities. But there is still\r\nan immense distance to traverse before they shall have gained the\r\nextension which they are destined ultimately to possess.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNo impression without expression, then,\u0026mdash;that is the first\r\npedagogic fruit of our evolutionary conception of the mind as\r\nsomething instrumental to adaptive behavior. But a word may be said\r\nin continuation. The expression itself comes back to us, as I\r\nintimated a moment ago, in the form of a still farther\r\nimpression,\u0026mdash;the impression, namely, of what we have done. We\r\nthus receive sensible news of our behavior and its results. We hear\r\nthe words we have spoken, feel our own blow as we give it, or read\r\nin the bystander\u0027s eyes the success or failure of our conduct. Now\r\nthis return wave of impression pertains to the completeness of the\r\nwhole experience, and a word about its importance in the schoolroom\r\nmay not be out of place.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt would seem only natural to say that, since after acting we\r\nnormally get some return impression of result, it must be well to\r\nlet the pupil get such a return impression in every possible case.\r\nNevertheless, in schools where examination marks and \u0027standing\u0027 and\r\nother returns of result are concealed, the pupil is frustrated of\r\nthis natural termination of the cycle of his activities, and often\r\nsuffers from the sense of incompleteness and uncertainty; and there\r\nare persons who defend this system as encouraging the pupil to work\r\nfor the work\u0027s sake, and not for extraneous reward. Of course, here\r\nas elsewhere, concrete experience must prevail over psychological\r\ndeduction. But, so far as our psychological deduction goes, it\r\nwould suggest that the pupil\u0027s eagerness to know how well he does\r\nis in the line of his normal completeness of function, and should\r\nnever be balked except for very definite reasons indeed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAcquaint them, therefore, with their marks and standing and\r\nprospects, unless in the individual case you have some special\r\npractical reason for not so doing.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"VI__NATIVE_REACTIONS_AND_ACQUIRED_REACTIONS\"\r\nid=\"VI__NATIVE_REACTIONS_AND_ACQUIRED_REACTIONS\" /\u003eVI. NATIVE\r\nREACTIONS AND ACQUIRED REACTIONS\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe are by this time fully launched upon the biological\r\nconception. Man is an organism for reacting on impressions: his\r\nmind is there to help determine his reactions, and the purpose of\r\nhis education is to make them numerous and perfect. \u003ci\u003eOur\r\neducation means, in short, little more than a mass of possibilities\r\nof reaction,\u003c/i\u003e acquired at home, at school, or in the training of\r\naffairs. The teacher\u0027s task is that of supervising the acquiring\r\nprocess.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis being the case, I will immediately state a principle which\r\nunderlies the whole process of acquisition and governs the entire\r\nactivity of the teacher. It is this:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eEvery acquired reaction is, as a rule, either a complication\r\ngrafted on a native reaction, or a substitute for a native\r\nreaction, which the same object originally tended to\r\nprovoke.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe teacher\u0027s art consists in bringing about the substitution\r\nor complication, and success in the art presupposes a sympathetic\r\nacquaintance with the reactive tendencies natively there\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWithout an equipment of native reactions on the child\u0027s part,\r\nthe teacher would have no hold whatever upon the child\u0027s attention\r\nor conduct. You may take a horse to the water, but you cannot make\r\nhim drink; and so you may take a child to the schoolroom, but you\r\ncannot make him learn the new things you wish to impart, except by\r\nsoliciting him in the first instance by something which natively\r\nmakes him react. He must take the first step himself. He must\r\n\u003ci\u003edo\u003c/i\u003e something before you can get your purchase on him. That\r\nsomething may be something good or something bad. A bad reaction is\r\nbetter than no reaction at all; for, if bad, you can couple it with\r\nconsequences which awake him to its badness. But imagine a child so\r\nlifeless as to react in \u003ci\u003eno\u003c/i\u003e way to the teacher\u0027s first\r\nappeals, and how can you possibly take the first step in his\r\neducation?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo make this abstract conception more concrete, assume the case\r\nof a young child\u0027s training in good manners. The child has a native\r\ntendency to snatch with his hands at anything that attracts his\r\ncuriosity; also to draw back his hands when slapped, to cry under\r\nthese latter conditions, to smile when gently spoken to, and to\r\nimitate one\u0027s gestures.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuppose now you appear before the child with a new toy intended\r\nas a present for him. No sooner does he see the toy than he seeks\r\nto snatch it. You slap the hand; it is withdrawn, and the child\r\ncries. You then hold up the toy, smiling and saying, \"Beg for it\r\nnicely,\u0026mdash;so!\" The child stops crying, imitates you, receives\r\nthe toy, and crows with pleasure; and that little cycle of training\r\nis complete. You have substituted the new reaction of \u0027begging\u0027 for\r\nthe native reaction of snatching, when that kind of impression\r\ncomes.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow, if the child had no memory, the process would not be\r\neducative. No matter how often you came in with a toy, the same\r\nseries of reactions would fatally occur, each called forth by its\r\nown impression: see, snatch; slap, cry; hear, ask; receive, smile.\r\nBut, with memory there, the child, at the very instant of\r\nsnatching, recalls the rest of the earlier experience, thinks of\r\nthe slap and the frustration, recollects the begging and the\r\nreward, inhibits the snatching impulse, substitutes the \u0027nice\u0027\r\nreaction for it, and gets the toy immediately, by eliminating all\r\nthe intermediary steps. If a child\u0027s first snatching impulse be\r\nexcessive or his memory poor, many repetitions of the discipline\r\nmay be needed before the acquired reaction comes to be an ingrained\r\nhabit; but in an eminently educable child a single experience will\r\nsuffice.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne can easily represent the whole process by a brain-diagram.\r\nSuch a diagram can be little more than a symbolic translation of\r\nthe immediate experience into spatial terms; yet it may be useful,\r\nso I subjoin it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\u0027ctr\u0027\u003e\u003cimg src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/gutenberg-talks-to-teachers-illus051.gif\" width=\"798\"\r\nheight=\"452\"\r\nalt=\"FIGURE 1. THE BRAIN-PROCESSES BEFORE EDUCATION.\"\r\n title=\"FIGURE 1. THE BRAIN-PROCESSES BEFORE EDUCATION.\" /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFigure 1 shows the paths of the four successive reflexes\r\nexecuted by the lower or instinctive centres. The dotted lines that\r\nlead from them to the higher centres and connect the latter\r\ntogether, represent the processes of memory and association which\r\nthe reactions impress upon the higher centres as they take\r\nplace.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\u0027ctr\u0027\u003e\u003cimg src=\"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/gutenberg-talks-to-teachers-illus052.gif\" width=\"791\"\r\nheight=\"439\"\r\nalt=\"FIGURE 2. THE BRAIN-PROCESS AFTER EDUCATION.\"\r\ntitle=\"FIGURE 2. THE BRAIN-PROCESS AFTER EDUCATION.\" /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn Figure 2 we have the final result. The impression \u003ci\u003esee\u003c/i\u003e\r\nawakens the chain of memories, and the only reactions that take\r\nplace are the \u003ci\u003ebeg\u003c/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003esmile\u003c/i\u003e. The thought of the\r\n\u003ci\u003eslap\u003c/i\u003e, connected with the activity of Centre 2, inhibits the\r\n\u003ci\u003esnatch\u003c/i\u003e, and makes it abortive, so it is represented only by\r\na dotted line of discharge not reaching the terminus. Ditto of the\r\n\u003ci\u003ecry\u003c/i\u003e reaction. These are, as it were, short-circuited by the\r\ncurrent sweeping through the higher centres from \u003ci\u003esee\u003c/i\u003e to\r\n\u003ci\u003esmile\u003c/i\u003e. \u003ci\u003eBeg\u003c/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003esmile\u003c/i\u003e, thus substituted for the\r\noriginal reaction \u003ci\u003esnatch\u003c/i\u003e, become at last the immediate\r\nresponses when the child sees a snatchable object in some one\u0027s\r\nhands.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe first thing, then, for the teacher to understand is the\r\nnative reactive tendencies,\u0026mdash;the impulses and instincts of\r\nchildhood,\u0026mdash;so as to be able to substitute one for another,\r\nand turn them on to artificial objects.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is often said that man is distinguished from the lower\r\nanimals by having a much smaller assortment of native instincts and\r\nimpulses than they, but this is a great mistake. Man, of course,\r\nhas not the marvellous egg-laying instincts which some articulates\r\nhave; but, if we compare him with the mammalia, we are forced to\r\nconfess that he is appealed to by a much larger array of objects\r\nthan any other mammal, that his reactions on these objects are\r\ncharacteristic and determinate in a very high degree. The monkeys,\r\nand especially the anthropoids, are the only beings that approach\r\nhim in their analytic curiosity and width of imitativeness. His\r\ninstinctive impulses, it is true, get overlaid by the secondary\r\nreactions due to his superior reasoning power; but thus man loses\r\nthe \u003ci\u003esimply\u003c/i\u003e instinctive demeanor. But the life of instinct is\r\nonly disguised in him, not lost; and when the higher\r\nbrain-functions are in abeyance, as happens in imbecility or\r\ndementia, his instincts sometimes show their presence in truly\r\nbrutish ways.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI will therefore say a few words about those instinctive\r\ntendencies which are the most important from the teacher\u0027s point of\r\nview.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"VII__WHAT_THE_NATIVE_REACTIONS_ARE\"\r\nid=\"VII__WHAT_THE_NATIVE_REACTIONS_ARE\" /\u003eVII. WHAT THE NATIVE\r\nREACTIONS ARE\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFirst of all, \u003ci\u003eFear\u003c/i\u003e. Fear of punishment has always been\r\nthe great weapon of the teacher, and will always, of course, retain\r\nsome place in the conditions of the schoolroom. The subject is so\r\nfamiliar that nothing more need be said about it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe same is true of \u003ci\u003eLove\u003c/i\u003e, and the instinctive desire to\r\nplease those whom we love. The teacher who succeeds in getting\r\nherself loved by the pupils will obtain results which one of a more\r\nforbidding temperament finds it impossible to secure.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNext, a word might be said about \u003ci\u003eCuriosity\u003c/i\u003e. This is\r\nperhaps a rather poor term by which to designate the \u003ci\u003eimpulse\r\ntoward better cognition\u003c/i\u003e in its full extent; but you will\r\nreadily understand what I mean. Novelties in the way of sensible\r\nobjects, especially if their sensational quality is bright, vivid,\r\nstartling, invariably arrest the attention of the young and hold it\r\nuntil the desire to know more about the object is assuaged. In its\r\nhigher, more intellectual form, the impulse toward completer\r\nknowledge takes the character of scientific or philosophic\r\ncuriosity. In both its sensational and its intellectual form the\r\ninstinct is more vivacious during childhood and youth than in after\r\nlife. Young children are possessed by curiosity about every new\r\nimpression that assails them. It would be quite impossible for a\r\nyoung child to listen to a lecture for more than a few minutes, as\r\nyou are now listening to me. The outside sights and sounds would\r\ninevitably carry his attention off. And, for most people in middle\r\nlife, the sort of intellectual effort required of the average\r\nschoolboy in mastering his Greek or Latin lesson, his algebra or\r\nphysics, would be out of the question. The middle-aged citizen\r\nattends exclusively to the routine details of his business; and new\r\ntruths, especially when they require involved trains of close\r\nreasoning, are no longer within the scope of his capacity.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe sensational curiosity of childhood is appealed to more\r\nparticularly by certain determinate kinds of objects. Material\r\nthings, things that move, living things, human actions and accounts\r\nof human action, will win the attention better than anything that\r\nis more abstract. Here again comes in the advantage of the\r\nobject-teaching and manual training methods. The pupil\u0027s attention\r\nis spontaneously held by any problem that involves the presentation\r\nof a new material object or of an activity on any one\u0027s part. The\r\nteacher\u0027s earliest appeals, therefore, must be through objects\r\nshown or acts performed or described. Theoretic curiosity,\r\ncuriosity about the rational relations between things, can hardly\r\nbe said to awake at all until adolescence is reached. The sporadic\r\nmetaphysical inquiries of children as to who made God, and why they\r\nhave five fingers, need hardly be counted here. But, when the\r\ntheoretic instinct is once alive in the pupil, an entirely new\r\norder of pedagogic relations begins for him. Reasons, causes,\r\nabstract conceptions, suddenly grow full of zest, a fact with which\r\nall teachers are familiar. And, both in its sensible and in its\r\nrational developments, disinterested curiosity may be successfully\r\nappealed to in the child with much more certainty than in the\r\nadult, in whom this intellectual instinct has grown so torpid as\r\nusually never to awake unless it enters into association with some\r\nselfish personal interest. Of this latter point I will say more\r\nanon.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eImitation\u003c/i\u003e. Man has always been recognized as the\r\nimitative animal \u003ci\u003epar excellence\u003c/i\u003e. And there is hardly a book\r\non psychology, however old, which has not devoted at least one\r\nparagraph to this fact. It is strange, however, that the full scope\r\nand pregnancy of the imitative impulse in man has had to wait till\r\nthe last dozen years to become adequately recognized. M. Tarde led\r\nthe way in his admirably original work, \"Les Lois de l\u0027Imitation\";\r\nand in our own country Professors Royce and Baldwin have kept the\r\nball rolling with all the energy that could be desired. Each of us\r\nis in fact what he is almost exclusively by virtue of his\r\nimitativeness. We become conscious of what we ourselves are by\r\nimitating others\u0026mdash;the consciousness of what the others are\r\nprecedes\u0026mdash;the sense of self grows by the sense of pattern. The\r\nentire accumulated wealth of mankind\u0026mdash;languages, arts,\r\ninstitutions, and sciences\u0026mdash;is passed on from one generation\r\nto another by what Baldwin has called social heredity, each\r\ngeneration simply imitating the last. Into the particulars of this\r\nmost fascinating chapter of psychology I have no time to go. The\r\nmoment one hears Tarde\u0027s proposition uttered, however, one feels\r\nhow supremely true it is. Invention, using the term most broadly,\r\nand imitation, are the two legs, so to call them, on which the\r\nhuman race historically has walked.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eImitation shades imperceptibly into \u003ci\u003eEmulation\u003c/i\u003e. Emulation\r\nis the impulse to imitate what you see another doing, in order not\r\nto appear inferior; and it is hard to draw a sharp line between the\r\nmanifestations of the two impulses, so inextricably do they mix\r\ntheir effects. Emulation is the very nerve of human society. Why\r\nare you, my hearers, sitting here before me? If no one whom you\r\never heard of had attended a \u0027summer school\u0027 or teachers\u0027\r\ninstitute, would it have occurred to any one of you to break out\r\nindependently and do a thing so unprescribed by fashion? Probably\r\nnot. Nor would your pupils come to you unless the children of their\r\nparents\u0027 neighbors were all simultaneously being sent to school. We\r\nwish not to be lonely or eccentric, and we wish not to be cut off\r\nfrom our share in things which to our neighbors seem desirable\r\nprivileges.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the schoolroom, imitation and emulation play absolutely vital\r\nparts. Every teacher knows the advantage of having certain things\r\nperformed by whole bands of children at a time. The teacher who\r\nmeets with most success is the teacher whose own ways are the most\r\nimitable. A teacher should never try to make the pupils do a thing\r\nwhich she cannot do herself. \"Come and let me show you how\" is an\r\nincomparably better stimulus than \"Go and do it as the book\r\ndirects.\" Children admire a teacher who has skill. What he does\r\nseems easy, and they wish to emulate it. It is useless for a dull\r\nand devitalized teacher to exhort her pupils to wake up and take an\r\ninterest. She must first take one herself; then her example is\r\neffective, as no exhortation can possibly be.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eEvery school has its tone, moral and intellectual. And this tone\r\nis a mere tradition kept up by imitation, due in the first instance\r\nto the example set by teachers and by previous pupils of an\r\naggressive and dominating type, copied by the others, and passed on\r\nfrom year to year, so that the new pupils take the cue almost\r\nimmediately. Such a tone changes very slowly, if at all; and then\r\nalways under the modifying influence of new personalities\r\naggressive enough in character to set new patterns and not merely\r\nto copy the old. The classic example of this sort of tone is the\r\noften quoted case of Rugby under Dr. Arnold\u0027s administration. He\r\nimpressed his own character as a model on the imagination of the\r\noldest boys, who in turn were expected and required to impress\r\ntheirs upon the younger set. The contagiousness of Arnold\u0027s genius\r\nwas such that a Rugby man was said to be recognizable all through\r\nlife by a peculiar turn of character which he acquired at school.\r\nIt is obvious that psychology as such can give in this field no\r\nprecepts of detail. As in so many other fields of teaching, success\r\ndepends mainly on the native genius of the teacher, the sympathy,\r\ntact, and perception which enable him to seize the right moment and\r\nto set the right example.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAmong the recent modern reforms of teaching methods, a certain\r\ndisparagement of emulation, as a laudable spring of action in the\r\nschoolroom, has often made itself heard. More than a century ago,\r\nRousseau, in his \u0027\u0026Eacute;mile,\u0027 branded rivalry between one pupil\r\nand another as too base a passion to play a part in an ideal\r\neducation. \"Let \u0026Eacute;mile,\" he said, \"never be led to compare\r\nhimself to other children. No rivalries, not even in running, as\r\nsoon as he begins to have the power of reason. It were a hundred\r\ntimes better that he should not learn at all what he could only\r\nlearn through jealousy or vanity. But I would mark out every year\r\nthe progress he may have made, and I would compare it with the\r\nprogress of the following years. I would say to him: \u0027You are now\r\ngrown so many inches taller; there is the ditch which you jumped\r\nover, there is the burden which you raised. There is the distance\r\nto which you could throw a pebble, there the distance you could run\r\nover without losing breath. See how much more you can do now!\u0027 Thus\r\nI should excite him without making him jealous of any one. He would\r\nwish to surpass himself. I can see no inconvenience in this\r\nemulation with his former self.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eUnquestionably, emulation with one\u0027s former self is a noble form\r\nof the passion of rivalry, and has a wide scope in the training of\r\nthe young. But to veto and taboo all possible rivalry of one youth\r\nwith another, because such rivalry may degenerate into greedy and\r\nselfish excess, does seem to savor somewhat of sentimentality, or\r\neven of fanaticism. The feeling of rivalry lies at the very basis\r\nof our being, all social improvement being largely due to it. There\r\nis a noble and generous kind of rivalry, as well as a spiteful and\r\ngreedy kind; and the noble and generous form is particularly common\r\nin childhood. All games owe the zest which they bring with them to\r\nthe fact that they are rooted in the emulous passion, yet they are\r\nthe chief means of training in fairness and magnanimity. Can the\r\nteacher afford to throw such an ally away? Ought we seriously to\r\nhope that marks, distinctions, prizes, and other goals of effort,\r\nbased on the pursuit of recognized superiority, should be forever\r\nbanished from our schools? As a psychologist, obliged to notice the\r\ndeep and pervasive character of the emulous passion, I must confess\r\nmy doubts.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe wise teacher will use this instinct as he uses others,\r\nreaping its advantages, and appealing to it in such a way as to\r\nreap a maximum of benefit with a minimum of harm; for, after all,\r\nwe must confess, with a French critic of Rousseau\u0027s doctrine, that\r\nthe deepest spring of action in us is the sight of action in\r\nanother. The spectacle of effort is what awakens and sustains our\r\nown effort. No runner running all alone on a race-track will find\r\nin his own will the power of stimulation which his rivalry with\r\nother runners incites, when he feels them at his heels, about to\r\npass. When a trotting horse is \u0027speeded,\u0027 a running horse must go\r\nbeside him to keep him to the pace.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs imitation slides into emulation, so emulation slides into\r\n\u003ci\u003eAmbition\u003c/i\u003e; and ambition connects itself closely with\r\n\u003ci\u003ePugnacity\u003c/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003ePride\u003c/i\u003e. Consequently, these five\r\ninstinctive tendencies form an interconnected group of factors,\r\nhard to separate in the determination of a great deal of our\r\nconduct. The \u003ci\u003eAmbitious Impulses\u003c/i\u003e would perhaps be the best\r\nname for the whole group.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003ePride and pugnacity have often been considered unworthy passions\r\nto appeal to in the young. But in their more refined and noble\r\nforms they play a great part in the schoolroom and in education\r\ngenerally, being in some characters most potent spurs to effort.\r\nPugnacity need not be thought of merely in the form of physical\r\ncombativeness. It can be taken in the sense of a general\r\nunwillingness to be beaten by any kind of difficulty. It is what\r\nmakes us feel \u0027stumped\u0027 and challenged by arduous achievements, and\r\nis essential to a spirited and enterprising character. We have of\r\nlate been hearing much of the philosophy of tenderness in\r\neducation; \u0027interest\u0027 must be assiduously awakened in everything,\r\ndifficulties must be smoothed away. \u003ci\u003eSoft\u003c/i\u003e pedagogics have\r\ntaken the place of the old steep and rocky path to learning. But\r\nfrom this lukewarm air the bracing oxygen of effort is left out. It\r\nis nonsense to suppose that every step in education \u003ci\u003ecan\u003c/i\u003e be\r\ninteresting. The fighting impulse must often be appealed to. Make\r\nthe pupil feel ashamed of being scared at fractions, of being\r\n\u0027downed\u0027 by the law of falling bodies; rouse his pugnacity and\r\npride, and he will rush at the difficult places with a sort of\r\ninner wrath at himself that is one of his best moral faculties. A\r\nvictory scored under such conditions becomes a turning-point and\r\ncrisis of his character. It represents the high-water mark of his\r\npowers, and serves thereafter as an ideal pattern for his\r\nself-imitation. The teacher who never rouses this sort of\r\npugnacious excitement in his pupils falls short of one of his best\r\nforms of usefulness.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe next instinct which I shall mention is that of\r\n\u003ci\u003eOwnership\u003c/i\u003e, also one of the radical endowments of the race.\r\nIt often is the antagonist of imitation. Whether social progress is\r\ndue more to the passion for keeping old things and habits or to the\r\npassion of imitating and acquiring new ones may in some cases be a\r\ndifficult thing to decide. The sense of ownership begins in the\r\nsecond year of life. Among the first words which an infant learns\r\nto utter are the words \u0027my\u0027 and \u0027mine,\u0027 and woe to the parents of\r\ntwins who fail to provide their gifts in duplicate. The depth and\r\nprimitiveness of this instinct would seem to cast a sort of\r\npsychological discredit in advance upon all radical forms of\r\ncommunistic utopia. Private proprietorship cannot be practically\r\nabolished until human nature is changed. It seems essential to\r\nmental health that the individual should have something beyond the\r\nbare clothes on his back to which he can assert exclusive\r\npossession, and which he may defend adversely against the world.\r\nEven those religious orders who make the most stringent vows of\r\npoverty have found it necessary to relax the rule a little in favor\r\nof the human heart made unhappy by reduction to too disinterested\r\nterms. The monk must have his books: the nun must have her little\r\ngarden, and the images and pictures in her room.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn education, the instinct of ownership is fundamental, and can\r\nbe appealed to in many ways. In the house, training in order and\r\nneatness begins with the arrangement of the child\u0027s own personal\r\npossessions. In the school, ownership is particularly important in\r\nconnection with one of its special forms of activity, the\r\ncollecting impulse. An object possibly not very interesting in\r\nitself, like a shell, a postage stamp, or a single map or drawing,\r\nwill acquire an interest if it fills a gap in a collection or helps\r\nto complete a series. Much of the scholarly work of the world, so\r\nfar as it is mere bibliography, memory, and erudition (and this\r\nlies at the basis of all our human scholarship), would seem to owe\r\nits interest rather to the way in which it gratifies the\r\naccumulating and collecting instinct than to any special appeal\r\nwhich it makes to our cravings after rationality. A man wishes a\r\ncomplete collection of information, wishes to know more about a\r\nsubject than anybody else, much as another may wish to own more\r\ndollars or more early editions or more engravings before the letter\r\nthan anybody else.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe teacher who can work this impulse into the school tasks is\r\nfortunate. Almost all children collect something. A tactful teacher\r\nmay get them to take pleasure in collecting books; in keeping a\r\nneat and orderly collection of notes; in starting, when they are\r\nmature enough, a card catalogue; in preserving every drawing or map\r\nwhich they may make. Neatness, order, and method are thus\r\ninstinctively gained, along with the other benefits which the\r\npossession of the collection entails. Even such a noisome thing as\r\na collection of postage stamps may be used by the teacher as an\r\ninciter of interest in the geographical and historical information\r\nwhich she desires to impart. Sloyd successfully avails itself of\r\nthis instinct in causing the pupil to make a collection of wooden\r\nimplements fit for his own private use at home. Collecting is, of\r\ncourse, the basis of all natural history study; and probably nobody\r\never became a good naturalist who was not an unusually active\r\ncollector when a boy.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eConstructiveness\u003c/i\u003e is another great instinctive tendency\r\nwith which the schoolroom has to contract an alliance. Up to the\r\neighth or ninth year of childhood one may say that the child does\r\nhardly anything else than handle objects, explore things with his\r\nhands, doing and undoing, setting up and knocking down, putting\r\ntogether and pulling apart; for, from the psychological point of\r\nview, construction and destruction are two names for the same\r\nmanual activity. Both signify the production of change, and the\r\nworking of effects, in outward things. The result of all this is\r\nthat intimate familiarity with the physical environment, that\r\nacquaintance with the properties of material things, which is\r\nreally the foundation of human \u003ci\u003econsciousness\u003c/i\u003e. To the very\r\nlast, in most of us, the conceptions of objects and their\r\nproperties are limited to the notion of what we can \u003ci\u003edo with\r\nthem\u003c/i\u003e. A \u0027stick\u0027 means something we can lean upon or strike\r\nwith; \u0027fire,\u0027 something to cook, or warm ourselves, or burn things\r\nup withal; \u0027string,\u0027 something with which to tie things together.\r\nFor most people these objects have no other meaning. In geometry,\r\nthe cylinder, circle, sphere, are defined as what you get by going\r\nthrough certain processes of construction, revolving a\r\nparallelogram upon one of its sides, etc. The more different kinds\r\nof things a child thus gets to know by treating and handling them,\r\nthe more confident grows his sense of kinship with the world in\r\nwhich he lives. An unsympathetic adult will wonder at the\r\nfascinated hours which a child will spend in putting his blocks\r\ntogether and rearranging them. But the wise education takes the\r\ntide at the flood, and from the kindergarten upward devotes the\r\nfirst years of education to training in construction and to\r\nobject-teaching. I need not recapitulate here what I said awhile\r\nback about the superiority of the objective and experimental\r\nmethods. They occupy the pupil in a way most congruous with the\r\nspontaneous interests of his age. They absorb him, and leave\r\nimpressions durable and profound. Compared with the youth taught by\r\nthese methods, one brought up exclusively by books carries through\r\nlife a certain remoteness from reality: he stands, as it were, out\r\nof the pale, and feels that he stands so; and often suffers a kind\r\nof melancholy from which he might have been rescued by a more real\r\neducation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere are other impulses, such as love of approbation or vanity,\r\nshyness and secretiveness, of which a word might be said; but they\r\nare too familiar to need it. You can easily pursue the subject by\r\nyour own reflection. There is one general law, however, that\r\nrelates to many of our instinctive tendencies, and that has no\r\nlittle importance in education; and I must refer to it briefly\r\nbefore I leave the subject. It has been called the law of\r\ntransitoriness in instincts. Many of our impulsive tendencies ripen\r\nat a certain period; and, if the appropriate objects be then and\r\nthere provided, habits of conduct toward them are acquired which\r\nlast. But, if the objects be not forthcoming then, the impulse may\r\ndie out before a habit is formed; and later it may be hard to teach\r\nthe creature to react appropriately in those directions. The\r\nsucking instincts in mammals, the following instinct in certain\r\nbirds and quadrupeds, are examples of this: they fade away shortly\r\nafter birth.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn children we observe a ripening of impulses and interests in a\r\ncertain determinate order. Creeping, walking, climbing, imitating\r\nvocal sounds, constructing, drawing, calculating, possess the child\r\nin succession; and in some children the possession, while it lasts,\r\nmay be of a semi-frantic and exclusive sort. Later, the interest in\r\nany one of these things may wholly fade away. Of course, the proper\r\npedagogic moment to work skill in, and to clench the useful habit,\r\nis when the native impulse is most acutely present. Crowd on the\r\nathletic opportunities, the mental arithmetic, the verse-learning,\r\nthe drawing, the botany, or what not, the moment you have reason to\r\nthink the hour is ripe. The hour may not last long, and while it\r\ncontinues you may safely let all the child\u0027s other occupations take\r\na second place. In this way you economize time and deepen skill;\r\nfor many an infant prodigy, artistic or mathematical, has a\r\nflowering epoch of but a few months.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne can draw no specific rules for all this. It depends on close\r\nobservation in the particular case, and parents here have a great\r\nadvantage over teachers. In fact, the law of transitoriness has\r\nlittle chance of individualized application in the schools.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch is the little interested and impulsive psychophysical\r\norganism whose springs of action the teacher must divine, and to\r\nwhose ways he must become accustomed. He must start with the native\r\ntendencies, and enlarge the pupil\u0027s entire passive and active\r\nexperience. He must ply him with new objects and stimuli, and make\r\nhim taste the fruits of his behavior, so that now that whole\r\ncontext of remembered experience is what shall determine his\r\nconduct when he gets the stimulus, and not the bare immediate\r\nimpression. As the pupil\u0027s life thus enlarges, it gets fuller and\r\nfuller of all sorts of memories and associations and substitutions;\r\nbut the eye accustomed to psychological analysis will discern,\r\nunderneath it all, the outlines of our simple psychophysical\r\nscheme.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eRespect then, I beg you, always the original reactions, even\r\nwhen you are seeking to overcome their connection with certain\r\nobjects, and to supplant them with others that you wish to make the\r\nrule. Bad behavior, from the point of view of the teacher\u0027s art, is\r\nas good a starting-point as good behavior. In fact, paradoxical as\r\nit may sound to say so, it is often a better starting-point than\r\ngood behavior would be.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe acquired reactions must be made habitual whenever they are\r\nappropriate. Therefore Habit is the next subject to which your\r\nattention is invited.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"VIII__THE_LAWS_OF_HABIT\"\r\nid=\"VIII__THE_LAWS_OF_HABIT\" /\u003eVIII. THE LAWS OF HABIT\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is very important that teachers should realize the importance\r\nof habit, and psychology helps us greatly at this point. We speak,\r\nit is true, of good habits and of bad habits; but, when people use\r\nthe word \u0027habit,\u0027 in the majority of instances it is a bad habit\r\nwhich they have in mind. They talk of the smoking-habit and the\r\nswearing-habit and the drinking-habit, but not of the\r\nabstention-habit or the moderation-habit or the courage-habit. But\r\nthe fact is that our virtues are habits as much as our vices. All\r\nour life, so far as it has definite form, is but a mass of\r\nhabits,\u0026mdash;practical, emotional, and\r\nintellectual,\u0026mdash;systematically organized for our weal or woe,\r\nand bearing us irresistibly toward our destiny, whatever the latter\r\nmay be.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSince pupils can understand this at a comparatively early age,\r\nand since to understand it contributes in no small measure to their\r\nfeeling of responsibility, it would be well if the teacher were\r\nable himself to talk to them of the philosophy of habit in some\r\nsuch abstract terms as I am now about to talk of it to you.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI believe that we are subject to the law of habit in consequence\r\nof the fact that we have bodies. The plasticity of the living\r\nmatter of our nervous system, in short, is the reason why we do a\r\nthing with difficulty the first time, but soon do it more and more\r\neasily, and finally, with sufficient practice, do it\r\nsemi-mechanically, or with hardly any consciousness at all. Our\r\nnervous systems have (in Dr. Carpenter\u0027s words) \u003ci\u003egrown\u003c/i\u003e to the\r\nway in which they have been exercised, just as a sheet of paper or\r\na coat, once creased or folded, tends to fall forever afterward\r\ninto the same identical folds.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eHabit is thus a second nature, or rather, as the Duke of\r\nWellington said, it is \u0027ten times nature,\u0027\u0026mdash;at any rate as\r\nregards its importance in adult life; for the acquired habits of\r\nour training have by that time inhibited or strangled most of the\r\nnatural impulsive tendencies which were originally there.\r\nNinety-nine hundredths or, possibly, nine hundred and ninety-nine\r\nthousandths of our activity is purely automatic and habitual, from\r\nour rising in the morning to our lying down each night. Our\r\ndressing and undressing, our eating and drinking, our greetings and\r\npartings, our hat-raisings and giving way for ladies to precede,\r\nnay, even most of the forms of our common speech, are things of a\r\ntype so fixed by repetition as almost to be classed as reflex\r\nactions. To each sort of impression we have an automatic,\r\nready-made response. My very words to you now are an example of\r\nwhat I mean; for having already lectured upon habit and printed a\r\nchapter about it in a book, and read the latter when in print, I\r\nfind my tongue inevitably falling into its old phrases and\r\nrepeating almost literally what I said before.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo far as we are thus mere bundles of habit, we are stereotyped\r\ncreatures, imitators and copiers of our past selves. And since\r\nthis, under any circumstances, is what we always tend to become, it\r\nfollows first of all that the teacher\u0027s prime concern should be to\r\ningrain into the pupil that assortment of habits that shall be most\r\nuseful to him throughout life. Education is for behavior, and\r\nhabits are the stuff of which behavior consists.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo quote my earlier book directly, the great thing in all\r\neducation is to \u003ci\u003emake our nervous system our ally instead of our\r\nenemy\u003c/i\u003e. It is to fund and capitalize our acquisitions, and live\r\nat ease upon the interest of the fund. \u003ci\u003eFor this we must make\r\nautomatic and habitual, as early as possible, as many useful\r\nactions as we can\u003c/i\u003e, and as carefully guard against the growing\r\ninto ways that are likely to be disadvantageous. The more of the\r\ndetails of our daily life we can hand over to the effortless\r\ncustody of automatism, the more our higher powers of mind will be\r\nset free for their own proper work. There is no more miserable\r\nhuman being than one in whom nothing is habitual but indecision,\r\nand for whom the lighting of every cigar, the drinking of every\r\ncup, the time of rising and going to bed every day, and the\r\nbeginning of every bit of work are subjects of express volitional\r\ndeliberation. Full half the time of such a man goes to the deciding\r\nor regretting of matters which ought to be so ingrained in him as\r\npractically not to exist for his consciousness at all. If there be\r\nsuch daily duties not yet ingrained in any one of my hearers, let\r\nhim begin this very hour to set the matter right.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn Professor Bain\u0027s chapter on \u0027The Moral Habits\u0027 there are some\r\nadmirable practical remarks laid down. Two great maxims emerge from\r\nthe treatment. The first is that in the acquisition of a new habit,\r\nor the leaving off of an old one, we must take care to \u003ci\u003elaunch\r\nourselves with as strong and decided an initiative as possible\u003c/i\u003e.\r\nAccumulate all the possible circumstances which shall reinforce the\r\nright motives; put yourself assiduously in conditions that\r\nencourage the new way; make engagements incompatible with the old;\r\ntake a public pledge, if the case allows; in short, envelope your\r\nresolution with every aid you know. This will give your new\r\nbeginning such a momentum that the temptation to break down will\r\nnot occur as soon as it otherwise might; and every day during which\r\na breakdown is postponed adds to the chances of its not occurring\r\nat all.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI remember long ago reading in an Austrian paper the\r\nadvertisement of a certain Rudolph Somebody, who promised fifty\r\ngulden reward to any one who after that date should find him at the\r\nwine-shop of Ambrosius So-and-so. \u0027This I do,\u0027 the advertisement\r\ncontinued, \u0027in consequence of a promise which I have made my wife.\u0027\r\nWith such a wife, and such an understanding of the way in which to\r\nstart new habits, it would be safe to stake one\u0027s money on\r\nRudolph\u0027s ultimate success.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe second maxim is, \u003ci\u003eNever suffer an exception to occur till\r\nthe new habit is securely rooted in your life\u003c/i\u003e. Each lapse is\r\nlike the letting fall of a ball of string which one is carefully\r\nwinding up: a single slip undoes more than a great many turns will\r\nwind again. Continuity of training is the great means of making the\r\nnervous system act infallibly right. As Professor Bain\r\nsays:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"The peculiarity of the moral habits, contradistinguishing them\r\nfrom the intellectual acquisitions, is the presence of two hostile\r\npowers, one to be gradually raised into the ascendant over the\r\nother. It is necessary above all things, in such a situation, never\r\nto lose a battle. Every gain on the wrong side undoes the effect of\r\nmany conquests on the right. The essential precaution, therefore,\r\nis so to regulate the two opposing powers that the one may have a\r\nseries of uninterrupted successes, until repetition has fortified\r\nit to such a degree as to enable it to cope with the opposition,\r\nunder any circumstances. This is the theoretically best career of\r\nmental progress.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA third maxim may be added to the preceding pair: \u003ci\u003eSeize the\r\nvery first possible opportunity to act on every resolution you\r\nmake, and on every emotional prompting you may experience in the\r\ndirection of the habits you aspire to gain.\u003c/i\u003e It is not in the\r\nmoment of their forming, but in the moment of their producing motor\r\neffects, that resolves and aspirations communicate the new \u0027set\u0027 to\r\nthe brain.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNo matter how full a reservoir of maxims one may possess, and no\r\nmatter how good one\u0027s sentiments may be, if one have not taken\r\nadvantage of every concrete opportunity to act, one\u0027s character may\r\nremain entirely unaffected for the better. With good intentions,\r\nhell proverbially is paved. This is an obvious consequence of the\r\nprinciples I have laid down. A \u0027character,\u0027 as J.S. Mill says, \u0027is\r\na completely fashioned will\u0027; and a will, in the sense in which he\r\nmeans it, is an aggregate of tendencies to act in a firm and prompt\r\nand definite way upon all the principal emergencies of life. A\r\ntendency to act only becomes effectively ingrained in us in\r\nproportion to the uninterrupted frequency with which the actions\r\nactually occur, and the brain \u0027grows\u0027 to their use. When a resolve\r\nor a fine glow of feeling is allowed to evaporate without bearing\r\npractical fruit, it is worse than a chance lost: it works so as\r\npositively to hinder future resolutions and emotions from taking\r\nthe normal path of discharge. There is no more contemptible type of\r\nhuman character than that of the nerveless sentimentalist and\r\ndreamer, who spends his life in a weltering sea of sensibility, but\r\nnever does a concrete manly deed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis leads to a fourth maxim. \u003ci\u003eDon\u0027t preach too much to your\r\npupils or abound in good talk in the abstract\u003c/i\u003e. Lie in wait\r\nrather for the practical opportunities, be prompt to seize those as\r\nthey pass, and thus at one operation get your pupils both to think,\r\nto feel, and to do. The strokes of \u003ci\u003ebehavior\u003c/i\u003e are what give\r\nthe new set to the character, and work the good habits into its\r\norganic tissue. Preaching and talking too soon become an\r\nineffectual bore.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere is a passage in Darwin\u0027s short autobiography which has\r\nbeen often quoted, and which, for the sake of its bearing on our\r\nsubject of habit, I must now quote again. Darwin says: \"Up to the\r\nage of thirty or beyond it, poetry of many kinds gave me great\r\npleasure; and even as a schoolboy I took intense delight in\r\nShakespeare, especially in the historical plays. I have also said\r\nthat pictures formerly gave me considerable, and music very great\r\ndelight. But now for many years I cannot endure to read a line of\r\npoetry. I have tried lately to read Shakespeare, and found it so\r\nintolerably dull that it nauseated me. I have also almost lost my\r\ntaste for pictures or music…. My mind seems to have become a kind\r\nof machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of\r\nfacts; but why this should have caused the atrophy of that part of\r\nthe brain alone, on which the higher tastes depend, I cannot\r\nconceive…. If I had to live my life again, I would have made a\r\nrule to read some poetry and listen to some music at least once\r\nevery week; for perhaps the parts of my brain now atrophied would\r\nthus have been kept alive through use. The loss of these tastes is\r\na loss of happiness, and may possibly be injurious to the\r\nintellect, and more probably to the moral character, by enfeebling\r\nthe emotional part of our nature.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe all intend when young to be all that may become a man, before\r\nthe destroyer cuts us down. We wish and expect to enjoy poetry\r\nalways, to grow more and more intelligent about pictures and music,\r\nto keep in touch with spiritual and religious ideas, and even not\r\nto let the greater philosophic thoughts of our time develop quite\r\nbeyond our view. We mean all this in youth, I say; and yet in how\r\nmany middle-aged men and women is such an honest and sanguine\r\nexpectation fulfilled? Surely, in comparatively few; and the laws\r\nof habit show us why. Some interest in each of these things arises\r\nin everybody at the proper age; but, if not persistently fed with\r\nthe appropriate matter, instead of growing into a powerful and\r\nnecessary habit, it atrophies and dies, choked by the rival\r\ninterests to which the daily food is given. We make ourselves into\r\nDarwins in this negative respect by persistently ignoring the\r\nessential practical conditions of our case. We say abstractly: \"I\r\nmean to enjoy poetry, and to absorb a lot of it, of course. I fully\r\nintend to keep up my love of music, to read the books that shall\r\ngive new turns to the thought of my time, to keep my higher\r\nspiritual side alive, etc.\" But we do not attack these things\r\nconcretely, and we do not begin \u003ci\u003eto-day.\u003c/i\u003e We forget that every\r\ngood that is worth possessing must be paid for in strokes of daily\r\neffort. We postpone and postpone, until those smiling possibilities\r\nare dead. Whereas ten minutes a day of poetry, of spiritual reading\r\nor meditation, and an hour or two a week at music, pictures, or\r\nphilosophy, provided we began \u003ci\u003enow\u003c/i\u003e and suffered no remission,\r\nwould infallibly give us in due time the fulness of all we desire.\r\nBy neglecting the necessary concrete labor, by sparing ourselves\r\nthe little daily tax, we are positively digging the graves of our\r\nhigher possibilities. This is a point concerning which you teachers\r\nmight well give a little timely information to your older and more\r\naspiring pupils.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAccording as a function receives daily exercise or not, the man\r\nbecomes a different kind of being in later life. We have lately had\r\na number of accomplished Hindoo visitors at Cambridge, who talked\r\nfreely of life and philosophy. More than one of them has confided\r\nto me that the sight of our faces, all contracted as they are with\r\nthe habitual American over-intensity and anxiety of expression, and\r\nour ungraceful and distorted attitudes when sitting, made on him a\r\nvery painful impression. \"I do not see,\" said one, \"how it is\r\npossible for you to live as you do, without a single minute in your\r\nday deliberately given to tranquillity and meditation. It is an\r\ninvariable part of our Hindoo life to retire for at least half an\r\nhour daily into silence, to relax our muscles, govern our\r\nbreathing, and meditate on eternal things. Every Hindoo child is\r\ntrained to this from a very early age.\" The good fruits of such a\r\ndiscipline were obvious in the physical repose and lack of tension,\r\nand the wonderful smoothness and calmness of facial expression, and\r\nimperturbability of manner of these Orientals. I felt that my\r\ncountrymen were depriving themselves of an essential grace of\r\ncharacter. How many American children ever hear it said by parent\r\nor teacher, that they should moderate their piercing voices, that\r\nthey should relax their unused muscles, and as far as possible,\r\nwhen sitting, sit quite still? Not one in a thousand, not one in\r\nfive thousand! Yet, from its reflex influence on the inner mental\r\nstates, this ceaseless over-tension, over-motion, and\r\nover-expression are working on us grievous national harm.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI beg you teachers to think a little seriously of this matter.\r\nPerhaps you can help our rising generation of Americans toward the\r\nbeginning of a better set of personal ideals.\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_2\"\r\nid=\"FNanchor_A_2\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_2\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_2\" id=\"Footnote_A_2\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_2\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e See the\r\nAddress on the Gospel of Relaxation, later in this volume.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo go back now to our general maxims, I may at last, as a fifth\r\nand final practical maxim about habits, offer something like this:\r\n\u003ci\u003eKeep the faculty of effort alive in you by a little gratuitous\r\nexercise every day.\u003c/i\u003e That is, be systematically heroic in little\r\nunnecessary points, do every day or two something for no other\r\nreason than its difficulty, so that, when the hour of dire need\r\ndraws nigh, it may find you not unnerved and untrained to stand the\r\ntest. Asceticism of this sort is like the insurance which a man\r\npays on his house and goods. The tax does him no good at the time,\r\nand possibly may never bring him a return. But, if the fire\r\n\u003ci\u003edoes\u003c/i\u003e come, his having paid it will be his salvation from\r\nruin. So with the man who has daily inured himself to habits of\r\nconcentrated attention, energetic volition, and self-denial in\r\nunnecessary things. He will stand like a tower when everything\r\nrocks around him, and his softer fellow-mortals are winnowed like\r\nchaff in the blast.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI have been accused, when talking of the subject of habit, of\r\nmaking old habits appear so strong that the acquiring of new ones,\r\nand particularly anything like a sudden reform or conversion, would\r\nbe made impossible by my doctrine. Of course, this would suffice to\r\ncondemn the latter; for sudden conversions, however infrequent they\r\nmay be, unquestionably do occur. But there is no incompatibility\r\nbetween the general laws I have laid down and the most startling\r\nsudden alterations in the way of character. New habits \u003ci\u003ecan\u003c/i\u003e\r\nbe launched, I have expressly said, on condition of there being new\r\nstimuli and new excitements. Now life abounds in these, and\r\nsometimes they are such critical and revolutionary experiences that\r\nthey change a man\u0027s whole scale of values and system of ideas. In\r\nsuch cases, the old order of his habits will be ruptured; and, if\r\nthe new motives are lasting, new habits will be formed, and build\r\nup in him a new or regenerate \u0027nature.\u0027\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAll this kind of fact I fully allow. But the general laws of\r\nhabit are no wise altered thereby, and the physiological study of\r\nmental conditions still remains on the whole the most powerful ally\r\nof hortatory ethics. The hell to be endured hereafter, of which\r\ntheology tells, is no worse than the hell we make for ourselves in\r\nthis world by habitually fashioning our characters in the wrong\r\nway. Could the young but realize how soon they will become mere\r\nwalking bundles of habits, they would give more heed to their\r\nconduct while in the plastic state. We are spinning our own fates,\r\ngood or evil, and never to be undone. Every smallest stroke of\r\nvirtue or of vice leaves its never-so-little scar. The drunken Rip\r\nVan Winkle, in Jefferson\u0027s play, excuses himself for every fresh\r\ndereliction by saying, \"I won\u0027t count this time!\" Well, he may not\r\ncount it, and a kind Heaven may not count it; but it is being\r\ncounted none the less. Down among his nerve-cells and fibres the\r\nmolecules are counting it, registering and storing it up to be used\r\nagainst him when the next temptation comes. Nothing we ever do is,\r\nin strict scientific literalness, wiped out.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOf course, this has its good side as well as its bad one. As we\r\nbecome permanent drunkards by so many separate drinks, so we become\r\nsaints in the moral, and authorities and experts in the practical\r\nand scientific spheres, by so many separate acts and hours of work.\r\nLet no youth have any anxiety about the upshot of his education,\r\nwhatever the line of it may be. If he keep faithfully busy each\r\nhour of the working day, he may safely leave the final result to\r\nitself. He can with perfect certainty count on waking up some fine\r\nmorning to find himself one of the competent ones of his\r\ngeneration, in whatever pursuit he may have singled out. Silently,\r\nbetween all the details of his business, the \u003ci\u003epower of\r\njudging\u003c/i\u003e in all that class of matter will have built itself up\r\nwithin him as a possession that will never pass away. Young people\r\nshould know this truth in advance. The ignorance of it has probably\r\nengendered more discouragement and faint-heartedness in youths\r\nembarking on arduous careers than all other causes put\r\ntogether.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"IX__THE_ASSOCIATION_OF_IDEAS\"\r\nid=\"IX__THE_ASSOCIATION_OF_IDEAS\" /\u003eIX. THE ASSOCIATION OF\r\nIDEAS\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn my last talk, in treating of Habit, I chiefly had in mind our\r\n\u003ci\u003emotor\u003c/i\u003e habits,\u0026mdash;habits of external conduct. But our\r\nthinking and feeling processes are also largely subject to the law\r\nof habit, and one result of this is a phenomenon which you all know\r\nunder the name of \u0027the association of ideas.\u0027 To that phenomenon I\r\nask you now to turn.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eYou remember that consciousness is an ever-flowing stream of\r\nobjects, feelings, and impulsive tendencies. We saw already that\r\nits phases or pulses are like so many fields or waves, each field\r\nor wave having usually its central point of liveliest attention, in\r\nthe shape of the most prominent object in our thought, while all\r\naround this lies a margin of other objects more dimly realized,\r\ntogether with the margin of emotional and active tendencies which\r\nthe whole entails. Describing the mind thus in fluid terms, we\r\ncling as close as possible to nature. At first sight, it might seem\r\nas if, in the fluidity of these successive waves, everything is\r\nindeterminate. But inspection shows that each wave has a\r\nconstitution which can be to some degree explained by the\r\nconstitution of the waves just passed away. And this relation of\r\nthe wave to its predecessors is expressed by the two fundamental\r\n\u0027laws of association,\u0027 so-called, of which the first is named the\r\nLaw of Contiguity, the second that of Similarity.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe \u003ci\u003eLaw of Contiguity\u003c/i\u003e tells us that objects thought of in\r\nthe coming wave are such as in some previous experience were\r\n\u003ci\u003enext\u003c/i\u003e to the objects represented in the wave that is passing\r\naway. The vanishing objects were once formerly their neighbors in\r\nthe mind. When you recite the alphabet or your prayers, or when the\r\nsight of an object reminds you of its name, or the name reminds you\r\nof the object, it is through the law of contiguity that the terms\r\nare suggested to the mind.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe \u003ci\u003eLaw of Similarity\u003c/i\u003e says that, when contiguity fails to\r\ndescribe what happens, the coming objects will prove to\r\n\u003ci\u003eresemble\u003c/i\u003e the going objects, even though the two were never\r\nexperienced together before. In our \u0027flights of fancy,\u0027 this is\r\nfrequently the case.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf, arresting ourselves in the flow of reverie, we ask the\r\nquestion, \"How came we to be thinking of just this object now?\" we\r\ncan almost always trace its presence to some previous object which\r\nhas introduced it to the mind, according to one or the other of\r\nthese laws. The entire routine of our memorized acquisitions, for\r\nexample, is a consequence of nothing but the Law of Contiguity. The\r\nwords of a poem, the formulas of trigonometry, the facts of\r\nhistory, the properties of material things, are all known to us as\r\ndefinite systems or groups of objects which cohere in an order\r\nfixed by innumerable iterations, and of which any one part reminds\r\nus of the others. In dry and prosaic minds, almost all the mental\r\nsequences flow along these lines of habitual routine repetition and\r\nsuggestion.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn witty, imaginative minds, on the other hand, the routine is\r\nbroken through with ease at any moment; and one field of mental\r\nobjects will suggest another with which perhaps in the whole\r\nhistory of human thinking it had never once before been coupled.\r\nThe link here is usually some \u003ci\u003eanalogy\u003c/i\u003e between the objects\r\nsuccessively thought of,\u0026mdash;an analogy often so subtle that,\r\nalthough we feel it, we can with difficulty analyze its ground; as\r\nwhere, for example, we find something masculine in the color red\r\nand something feminine in the color pale blue, or where, of three\r\nhuman beings\u0027 characters, one will remind us of a cat, another of a\r\ndog, the third perhaps of a cow.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003ePsychologists have of course gone very deeply into the question\r\nof what the causes of association may be; and some of them have\r\ntried to show that contiguity and similarity are not two radically\r\ndiverse laws, but that either presupposes the presence of the\r\nother. I myself am disposed to think that the phenomena of\r\nassociation depend on our cerebral constitution, and are not\r\nimmediate consequences of our being rational beings. In other\r\nwords, when we shall have become disembodied spirits, it may be\r\nthat our trains of consciousness will follow different laws. These\r\nquestions are discussed in the books on psychology, and I hope that\r\nsome of you will be interested in following them there. But I will,\r\non the present occasion, ignore them entirely; for, as teachers, it\r\nis the \u003ci\u003efact\u003c/i\u003e of association that practically concerns you,\r\nlet its grounds be spiritual or cerebral, or what they may, and let\r\nits laws be reducible, or non-reducible, to one. Your pupils,\r\nwhatever else they are, are at any rate little pieces of\r\nassociating machinery. Their education consists in the organizing\r\nwithin them of determinate tendencies to associate one thing with\r\nanother,\u0026mdash;impressions with consequences, these with reactions,\r\nthose with results, and so on indefinitely. The more copious the\r\nassociative systems, the completer the individual\u0027s adaptations to\r\nthe world.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe teacher can formulate his function to himself therefore in\r\nterms of \u0027association\u0027 as well as in terms of \u0027native and acquired\r\nreaction.\u0027 It is mainly that of \u003ci\u003ebuilding up useful systems of\r\nassociation\u003c/i\u003e in the pupil\u0027s mind. This description sounds wider\r\nthan the one I began by giving. But, when one thinks that our\r\ntrains of association, whatever they may be, normally issue in\r\nacquired reactions or behavior, one sees that in a general way the\r\nsame mass of facts is covered by both formulas.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is astonishing how many mental operations we can explain when\r\nwe have once grasped the principles of association. The great\r\nproblem which association undertakes to solve is, \u003ci\u003eWhy does just\r\nthis particular field of consciousness, constituted in this\r\nparticular way, now appear before my mind?\u003c/i\u003e It may be a field of\r\nobjects imagined; it may be of objects remembered or of objects\r\nperceived; it may include an action resolved on. In either case,\r\nwhen the field is analyzed into its parts, those parts can be shown\r\nto have proceeded from parts of fields previously before\r\nconsciousness, in consequence of one or other of the laws of\r\nassociation just laid down. Those laws \u003ci\u003erun\u003c/i\u003e the mind:\r\ninterest, shifting hither and thither, deflects it; and attention,\r\nas we shall later see, steers it and keeps it from too zigzag a\r\ncourse.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo grasp these factors clearly gives one a solid and simple\r\nunderstanding of the psychological machinery. The \u0027nature,\u0027 the\r\n\u0027character,\u0027 of an individual means really nothing but the habitual\r\nform of his associations. To break up bad associations or wrong\r\nones, to build others in, to guide the associative tendencies into\r\nthe most fruitful channels, is the educator\u0027s principal task. But\r\nhere, as with all other simple principles, the difficulty lies in\r\nthe application. Psychology can state the laws: concrete tact and\r\ntalent alone can work them to useful results.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile it is a matter of the commonest experience that our\r\nminds may pass from one object to another by various intermediary\r\nfields of consciousness. The indeterminateness of our paths of\r\nassociation \u003ci\u003ein concreto\u003c/i\u003e is thus almost as striking a feature\r\nof them as the uniformity of their abstract form. Start from any\r\nidea whatever, and the entire range of your ideas is potentially at\r\nyour disposal. If we take as the associative starting-point, or\r\ncue, some simple word which I pronounce before you, there is no\r\nlimit to the possible diversity of suggestions which it may set up\r\nin your minds. Suppose I say \u0027blue,\u0027 for example: some of you may\r\nthink of the blue sky and hot weather from which we now are\r\nsuffering, then go off on thoughts of summer clothing, or possibly\r\nof meteorology at large; others may think of the spectrum and the\r\nphysiology of color-vision, and glide into X-rays and recent\r\nphysical speculations; others may think of blue ribbons, or of the\r\nblue flowers on a friend\u0027s hat, and proceed on lines of personal\r\nreminiscence. To others, again, etymology and linguistic thoughts\r\nmay be suggested; or blue may be \u0027apperceived\u0027 as a synonym for\r\nmelancholy, and a train of associates connected with morbid\r\npsychology may proceed to unroll themselves.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the same person, the same word heard at different times will\r\nprovoke, in consequence of the varying marginal preoccupations,\r\neither one of a number of diverse possible associative sequences.\r\nProfessor M\u0026uuml;nsterberg performed this experiment methodically,\r\nusing the same words four times over, at three-month intervals, as\r\n\u0027cues\u0027 for four different persons who were the subjects of\r\nobservation. He found almost no constancy in their associations\r\ntaken at these different times. In short, the entire potential\r\ncontent of one\u0027s consciousness is accessible from any one of its\r\npoints. This is why we can never work the laws of association\r\nforward: starting from the present field as a cue, we can never\r\ncipher out in advance just what the person will be thinking of five\r\nminutes later. The elements which may become prepotent in the\r\nprocess, the parts of each successive field round which the\r\nassociations shall chiefly turn, the possible bifurcations of\r\nsuggestion, are so numerous and ambiguous as to be indeterminable\r\nbefore the fact. But, although we cannot work the laws of\r\nassociation forward, we can always work them backwards. We cannot\r\nsay now what we shall find ourselves thinking of five minutes\r\nhence; but, whatever it may be, we shall then be able to trace it\r\nthrough intermediary links of contiguity or similarity to what we\r\nare thinking now. What so baffles our prevision is the shifting\r\npart played by the margin and focus\u0026mdash;in fact, by each element\r\nby itself of the margin or focus\u0026mdash;in calling up the next\r\nideas.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor example, I am reciting \u0027Locksley Hall,\u0027 in order to divert\r\nmy mind from a state of suspense that I am in concerning the will\r\nof a relative that is dead. The will still remains in the mental\r\nbackground as an extremely marginal or ultra-marginal portion of my\r\nfield of consciousness; but the poem fairly keeps my attention from\r\nit, until I come to the line, \"I, the heir of all the ages, in the\r\nforemost files of time.\" The words \u0027I, the heir,\u0027 immediately make\r\nan electric connection with the marginal thought of the will; that,\r\nin turn, makes my heart beat with anticipation of my possible\r\nlegacy, so that I throw down the book and pace the floor excitedly\r\nwith visions of my future fortune pouring through my mind. Any\r\nportion of the field of consciousness that has more potentialities\r\nof emotional excitement than another may thus be roused to\r\npredominant activity; and the shifting play of interest now in one\r\nportion, now in another, deflects the currents in all sorts of\r\nzigzag ways, the mental activity running hither and thither as the\r\nsparks run in burnt-up paper.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne more point, and I shall have said as much to you as seems\r\nnecessary about the process of association.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eYou just saw how a single exciting word may call up its own\r\nassociates prepotently, and deflect our whole train of thinking\r\nfrom the previous track. The fact is that every portion of the\r\nfield \u003ci\u003etends\u003c/i\u003e to call up its own associates; but, if these\r\nassociates be severally different, there is rivalry, and as soon as\r\none or a few begin to be effective the others seem to get siphoned\r\nout, as it were, and left behind. Seldom, however, as in our\r\nexample, does the process seem to turn round a single item in the\r\nmental field, or even round the entire field that is immediately in\r\nthe act of passing. It is a matter of \u003ci\u003econstellation\u003c/i\u003e, into\r\nwhich portions of fields that are already past especially seem to\r\nenter and have their say. Thus, to go back to \u0027Locksley Hall,\u0027 each\r\nword as I recite it in its due order is suggested not solely by the\r\nprevious word now expiring on my lips, but it is rather the effect\r\nof all the previous words, taken together, of the verse. \"Ages,\"\r\nfor example, calls up \"in the foremost files of time,\" when\r\npreceded by \"I, the heir of all the\"\u0026mdash;; but, when preceded by\r\n\"for I doubt not through the,\"\u0026mdash;it calls up \"one increasing\r\npurpose runs.\" Similarly, if I write on the blackboard the letters\r\nA B C D E F,… they probably suggest to you G H I…. But, if I\r\nwrite A B A D D E F, if they suggest anything, they suggest as\r\ntheir complement E C T or E F I C I E N C Y. The result depending\r\non the total constellation, even though most of the single items be\r\nthe same.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eMy practical reason for mentioning this law is this, that it\r\nfollows from it that, in working associations into your pupils\u0027\r\nminds, you must not rely on single cues, but multiply the cues as\r\nmuch as possible. Couple the desired reaction with numerous\r\nconstellations of antecedents,\u0026mdash;don\u0027t always ask the question,\r\nfor example, in the same way; don\u0027t use the same kind of data in\r\nnumerical problems; vary your illustrations, etc., as much as you\r\ncan. When we come to the subject of memory, we shall learn still\r\nmore about this.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo much, then, for the general subject of association. In\r\nleaving it for other topics (in which, however, we shall abundantly\r\nfind it involved again), I cannot too strongly urge you to acquire\r\na habit of thinking of your pupils in associative terms. All\r\ngovernors of mankind, from doctors and jail-wardens to demagogues\r\nand statesmen, instinctively come so to conceive their charges. If\r\nyou do the same, thinking of them (however else you may think of\r\nthem besides) as so many little systems of associating machinery,\r\nyou will be astonished at the intimacy of insight into their\r\noperations and at the practicality of the results which you will\r\ngain. We think of our acquaintances, for example, as characterized\r\nby certain \u0027tendencies.\u0027 These tendencies will in almost every\r\ninstance prove to be tendencies to association. Certain ideas in\r\nthem are always followed by certain other ideas, these by certain\r\nfeelings and impulses to approve or disapprove, assent or decline.\r\nIf the topic arouse one of those first ideas, the practical outcome\r\ncan be pretty well foreseen. \u0027Types of character\u0027 in short are\r\nlargely types of association.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"X__INTEREST\" id=\"X__INTEREST\" /\u003eX. INTEREST\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAt our last meeting I treated of the native tendencies of the\r\npupil to react in characteristically definite ways upon different\r\nstimuli or exciting circumstances. In fact, I treated of the\r\npupil\u0027s instincts. Now some situations appeal to special instincts\r\nfrom the very outset, and others fail to do so until the proper\r\nconnections have been organized in the course of the person\u0027s\r\ntraining. We say of the former set of objects or situations that\r\nthey are \u003ci\u003einteresting\u003c/i\u003e in themselves and originally. Of the\r\nlatter we say that they are natively uninteresting, and that\r\ninterest in them has first to be acquired.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNo topic has received more attention from pedagogical writers\r\nthan that of interest. It is the natural sequel to the instincts we\r\nso lately discussed, and it is therefore well fitted to be the next\r\nsubject which we take up.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSince some objects are natively interesting and in others\r\ninterest is artificially acquired, the teacher must know which the\r\nnatively interesting ones are; for, as we shall see immediately,\r\nother objects can artificially acquire an interest only through\r\nfirst becoming associated with some of these natively interesting\r\nthings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe native interests of children lie altogether in the sphere of\r\nsensation. Novel things to look at or novel sounds to hear,\r\nespecially when they involve the spectacle of action of a violent\r\nsort, will always divert the attention from abstract conceptions of\r\nobjects verbally taken in. The grimace that Johnny is making, the\r\nspitballs that Tommy is ready to throw, the dog-fight in the\r\nstreet, or the distant firebells ringing,\u0026mdash;these are the\r\nrivals with which the teacher\u0027s powers of being interesting have\r\nincessantly to cope. The child will always attend more to what a\r\nteacher does than to what the same teacher says. During the\r\nperformance of experiments or while the teacher is drawing on the\r\nblackboard, the children are tranquil and absorbed. I have seen a\r\nroomful of college students suddenly become perfectly still, to\r\nlook at their professor of physics tie a piece of string around a\r\nstick which he was going to use in an experiment, but immediately\r\ngrow restless when he began to explain the experiment. A lady told\r\nme that one day, during a lesson, she was delighted at having\r\ncaptured so completely the attention of one of her young charges.\r\nHe did not remove his eyes from her face; but he said to her after\r\nthe lesson was over, \"I looked at you all the time, and your upper\r\njaw did not move once!\" That was the only fact that he had taken\r\nin.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eLiving things, then, moving things, or things that savor of\r\ndanger or of blood, that have a dramatic quality,\u0026mdash;these are\r\nthe objects natively interesting to childhood, to the exclusion of\r\nalmost everything else; and the teacher of young children, until\r\nmore artificial interests have grown up, will keep in touch with\r\nher pupils by constant appeal to such matters as these. Instruction\r\nmust be carried on objectively, experimentally, anecdotally. The\r\nblackboard-drawing and story-telling must constantly come in. But\r\nof course these methods cover only the first steps, and carry one\r\nbut a little way.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eCan we now formulate any general principle by which the later\r\nand more artificial interests connect themselves with these early\r\nones that the child brings with him to the school?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFortunately, we can: there is a very simple law that relates the\r\nacquired and the native interests with each other.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eAny object not interesting in itself may become interesting\r\nthrough becoming associated with an object in which an interest\r\nalready exists. The two associated objects grow, as it were,\r\ntogether: the interesting portion sheds its quality over the whole;\r\nand thus things not interesting in their own right borrow an\r\ninterest which becomes as real and as strong as that of any\r\nnatively interesting thing.\u003c/i\u003e The odd circumstance is that the\r\nborrowing does not impoverish the source, the objects taken\r\ntogether being more interesting, perhaps, than the originally\r\ninteresting portion was by itself.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis is one of the most striking proofs of the range of\r\napplication of the principle of association of ideas in psychology.\r\nAn idea will infect another with its own emotional interest when\r\nthey have become both associated together into any sort of a mental\r\ntotal. As there is no limit to the various associations into which\r\nan interesting idea may enter, one sees in how many ways an\r\ninterest may be derived.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eYou will understand this abstract statement easily if I take the\r\nmost frequent of concrete examples,\u0026mdash;the interest which things\r\nborrow from their connection with our own personal welfare. The\r\nmost natively interesting object to a man is his own personal self\r\nand its fortunes. We accordingly see that the moment a thing\r\nbecomes connected with the fortunes of the self, it forthwith\r\nbecomes an interesting thing. Lend the child his books, pencils,\r\nand other apparatus: then give them to him, make them his own, and\r\nnotice the new light with which they instantly shine in his eyes.\r\nHe takes a new kind of care of them altogether. In mature life, all\r\nthe drudgery of a man\u0027s business or profession, intolerable in\r\nitself, is shot through with engrossing significance because he\r\nknows it to be associated with his personal fortunes. What more\r\ndeadly uninteresting object can there be than a railroad\r\ntime-table? Yet where will you find a more interesting object if\r\nyou are going on a journey, and by its means can find your train?\r\nAt such times the time-table will absorb a man\u0027s entire attention,\r\nits interest being borrowed solely from its relation to his\r\npersonal life. \u003ci\u003eFrom all these facts there emerges a very simple\r\nabstract programme for the teacher to follow in keeping the\r\nattention of the child: Begin with the line of his native\r\ninterests, and offer him objects that have some immediate\r\nconnection with these\u003c/i\u003e. The kindergarten methods, the\r\nobject-teaching routine, the blackboard and manual-training\r\nwork,\u0026mdash;all recognize this feature. Schools in which these\r\nmethods preponderate are schools where discipline is easy, and\r\nwhere the voice of the master claiming order and attention in\r\nthreatening tones need never be heard.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eNext, step by step, connect with these first objects and\r\nexperiences the later objects and ideas which you wish to instill.\r\nAssociate the new with the old in some natural and telling way, so\r\nthat the interest, being shed along from point to point, finally\r\nsuffuses the entire system of objects of thought.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis is the abstract statement; and, abstractly, nothing can be\r\neasier to understand. It is in the fulfilment of the rule that the\r\ndifficulty lies; for the difference between an interesting and a\r\ntedious teacher consists in little more than the inventiveness by\r\nwhich the one is able to mediate these associations and\r\nconnections, and in the dulness in discovering such transitions\r\nwhich the other shows. One teacher\u0027s mind will fairly coruscate\r\nwith points of connection between the new lesson and the\r\ncircumstances of the children\u0027s other experience. Anecdotes and\r\nreminiscences will abound in her talk; and the shuttle of interest\r\nwill shoot backward and forward, weaving the new and the old\r\ntogether in a lively and entertaining way. Another teacher has no\r\nsuch inventive fertility, and his lesson will always be a dead and\r\nheavy thing. This is the psychological meaning of the Herbartian\r\nprinciple of \u0027preparation\u0027 for each lesson, and of correlating the\r\nnew with the old. It is the psychological meaning of that whole\r\nmethod of concentration in studies of which you have been recently\r\nhearing so much. When the geography and English and history and\r\narithmetic simultaneously make cross-references to one another, you\r\nget an interesting set of processes all along the line.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf, then, you wish to insure the interest of your pupils, there\r\nis only one way to do it; and that is to make certain that they\r\nhave something in their minds \u003ci\u003eto attend with\u003c/i\u003e, when you begin\r\nto talk. That something can consist in nothing but a previous lot\r\nof ideas already interesting in themselves, and of such a nature\r\nthat the incoming novel objects which you present can dovetail into\r\nthem and form with them some kind of a logically associated or\r\nsystematic whole. Fortunately, almost any kind of a connection is\r\nsufficient to carry the interest along. What a help is our\r\nPhilippine war at present in teaching geography! But before the war\r\nyou could ask the children if they ate pepper with their eggs, and\r\nwhere they supposed the pepper came from. Or ask them if glass is a\r\nstone, and, if not, why not; and then let them know how stones are\r\nformed and glass manufactured. External links will serve as well as\r\nthose that are deeper and more logical. But interest, once shed\r\nupon a subject, is liable to remain always with that subject. Our\r\nacquisitions become in a measure portions of our personal self; and\r\nlittle by little, as cross-associations multiply and habits of\r\nfamiliarity and practice grow, the entire system of our objects of\r\nthought consolidates, most of it becoming interesting for some\r\npurposes and in some degree.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAn adult man\u0027s interests are almost every one of them intensely\r\nartificial: they have slowly been built up. The objects of\r\nprofessional interest are most of them, in their original nature,\r\nrepulsive; but by their connection with such natively exciting\r\nobjects as one\u0027s personal fortune, one\u0027s social responsibilities,\r\nand especially by the force of inveterate habit, they grow to be\r\nthe only things for which in middle life a man profoundly\r\ncares.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut in all these the spread and consolidation have followed\r\nnothing but the principles first laid down. If we could recall for\r\na moment our whole individual history, we should see that our\r\nprofessional ideals and the zeal they inspire are due to nothing\r\nbut the slow accretion of one mental object to another, traceable\r\nbackward from point to point till we reach the moment when, in the\r\nnursery or in the schoolroom, some little story told, some little\r\nobject shown, some little operation witnessed, brought the first\r\nnew object and new interest within our ken by associating it with\r\nsome one of those primitively there. The interest now suffusing the\r\nwhole system took its rise in that little event, so insignificant\r\nto us now as to be entirely forgotten. As the bees in swarming\r\ncling to one another in layers till the few are reached whose feet\r\ngrapple the bough from which the swarm depends; so with the objects\r\nof our thinking,\u0026mdash;they hang to each other by associated links,\r\nbut the \u003ci\u003eoriginal\u003c/i\u003e source of interest in all of them is the\r\nnative interest which the earliest one once possessed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"XI__ATTENTION\" id=\"XI__ATTENTION\" /\u003eXI. ATTENTION\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhoever treats of interest inevitably treats of attention, for\r\nto say that an object is interesting is only another way of saying\r\nthat it excites attention. But in addition to the attention which\r\nany object already interesting or just becoming interesting\r\nclaims\u0026mdash;passive attention or spontaneous attention, we may\r\ncall it\u0026mdash;there is a more deliberate attention,\u0026mdash;voluntary\r\nattention or attention with effort, as it is called,\u0026mdash;which we\r\ncan give to objects less interesting or uninteresting in\r\nthemselves. The distinction between active and passive attention is\r\nmade in all books on psychology, and connects itself with the\r\ndeeper aspects of the topic. From our present purely practical\r\npoint of view, however, it is not necessary to be intricate; and\r\npassive attention to natively interesting material requires no\r\nfurther elucidation on this occasion. All that we need explicitly\r\nto note is that, the more the passive attention is relied on, by\r\nkeeping the material interesting; and the less the kind of\r\nattention requiring effort is appealed to; the more smoothly and\r\npleasantly the classroom work goes on. I must say a few more\r\nwords, however, about this latter process of voluntary and\r\ndeliberate attention.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne often hears it said that genius is nothing but a power of\r\nsustained attention, and the popular impression probably prevails\r\nthat men of genius are remarkable for their voluntary powers in\r\nthis direction. \u003ci\u003eBut a little introspective observation will show\r\nany one that voluntary attention cannot be continuously\r\nsustained,\u0026mdash;that it comes in beats.\u003c/i\u003e When we are studying\r\nan uninteresting subject, if our mind tends to wander, we have to\r\nbring back our attention every now and then by using distinct\r\npulses of effort, which revivify the topic for a moment, the mind\r\nthen running on for a certain number of seconds or minutes with\r\nspontaneous interest, until again some intercurrent idea captures\r\nit and takes it off. Then the processes of volitional recall must\r\nbe repeated once more. Voluntary attention, in short, is only a\r\nmomentary affair. The process, whatever it is, exhausts itself in\r\nthe single act; and, unless the matter is then taken in hand by\r\nsome trace of interest inherent in the subject, the mind fails to\r\nfollow it at all. The sustained attention of the genius, sticking\r\nto his subject for hours together, is for the most part of the\r\npassive sort. The minds of geniuses are full of copious and\r\noriginal associations. The subject of thought, once started,\r\ndevelops all sorts of fascinating consequences. The attention is\r\nled along one of these to another in the most interesting manner,\r\nand the attention never once tends to stray away.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn a commonplace mind, on the other hand, a subject develops\r\nmuch less numerous associates: it dies out then quickly; and, if\r\nthe man is to keep up thinking of it at all, he must bring his\r\nattention back to it by a violent wrench. In him, therefore, the\r\nfaculty of voluntary attention receives abundant opportunity for\r\ncultivation in daily life. It is your despised business man, your\r\ncommon man of affairs, (so looked down on by the literary awarders\r\nof fame) whose virtue in this regard is likely to be most\r\ndeveloped; for he has to listen to the concerns of so many\r\nuninteresting people, and to transact so much drudging detail, that\r\nthe faculty in question is always kept in training. A genius, on\r\nthe contrary, is the man in whom you are least likely to find the\r\npower of attending to anything insipid or distasteful in itself. He\r\nbreaks his engagements, leaves his letters unanswered, neglects his\r\nfamily duties incorrigibly, because he is powerless to turn his\r\nattention down and back from those more interesting trains of\r\nimagery with which his genius constantly occupies his mind.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eVoluntary attention is thus an essentially instantaneous affair.\r\nYou can claim it, for your purposes in the schoolroom, by\r\ncommanding it in loud, imperious tones; and you can easily get it\r\nin this way. But, unless the subject to which you thus recall their\r\nattention has inherent power to interest the pupils, you will have\r\ngot it for only a brief moment; and their minds will soon be\r\nwandering again. To keep them where you have called them, you must\r\nmake the subject too interesting for them to wander again. And for\r\nthat there is one prescription; but the prescription, like all our\r\nprescriptions, is abstract, and, to get practical results from it,\r\nyou must couple it with mother-wit.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe prescription is that \u003ci\u003ethe subject must be made to show new\r\naspects of itself; to prompt new questions; in a word, to\r\nchange\u003c/i\u003e. From an unchanging subject the attention inevitably\r\nwanders away. You can test this by the simplest possible case of\r\nsensorial attention. Try to attend steadfastly to a dot on the\r\npaper or on the wall. You presently find that one or the other of\r\ntwo things has happened: either your field of vision has become\r\nblurred, so that you now see nothing distinct at all, or else you\r\nhave involuntarily ceased to look at the dot in question, and are\r\nlooking at something else. But, if you ask yourself successive\r\nquestions about the dot,\u0026mdash;how big it is, how far, of what\r\nshape, what shade of color, etc.; in other words, if you turn it\r\nover, if you think of it in various ways, and along with various\r\nkinds of associates,\u0026mdash;you can keep your mind on it for a\r\ncomparatively long time. This is what the genius does, in whose\r\nhands a given topic coruscates and grows. And this is what the\r\nteacher must do for every topic if he wishes to avoid too frequent\r\nappeals to voluntary attention of the coerced sort. In all\r\nrespects, reliance upon such attention as this is a wasteful\r\nmethod, bringing bad temper and nervous wear and tear as well as\r\nimperfect results. The teacher who can get along by keeping\r\nspontaneous interest excited must be regarded as the teacher with\r\nthe greatest skill.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere is, however, in all schoolroom work a large mass of\r\nmaterial that must be dull and unexciting, and to which it is\r\nimpossible in any continuous way to contribute an interest\r\nassociatively derived. There are, therefore, certain external\r\nmethods, which every teacher knows, of voluntarily arousing the\r\nattention from time to time and keeping it upon the subject. Mr.\r\nFitch has a lecture on the art of securing attention, and he\r\nbriefly passes these methods in review; the posture must be\r\nchanged; places can be changed. Questions, after being answered\r\nsingly, may occasionally be answered in concert. Elliptical\r\nquestions may be asked, the pupil supplying the missing word. The\r\nteacher must pounce upon the most listless child and wake him up.\r\nThe habit of prompt and ready response must be kept up.\r\nRecapitulations, illustrations, examples, novelty of order, and\r\nruptures of routine,\u0026mdash;all these are means for keeping the\r\nattention alive and contributing a little interest to a dull\r\nsubject. Above all, the teacher must himself be alive and ready,\r\nand must use the contagion of his own example.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut, when all is said and done, the fact remains that some\r\nteachers have a naturally inspiring presence, and can make their\r\nexercises interesting, while others simply cannot. And psychology\r\nand general pedagogy here confess their failure, and hand things\r\nover to the deeper springs of human personality to conduct the\r\ntask.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA brief reference to the physiological theory of the attentive\r\nprocess may serve still further to elucidate these practical\r\nremarks, and confirm them by showing them from a slightly different\r\npoint of view.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhat is the attentive process, psychologically considered?\r\nAttention to an object is what takes place whenever that object\r\nmost completely occupies the mind. For simplicity\u0027s sake suppose\r\nthe object be an object of sensation,\u0026mdash;a figure approaching us\r\nat a distance on the road. It is far off, barely perceptible, and\r\nhardly moving: we do not know with certainty whether it is a man or\r\nnot. Such an object as this, if carelessly looked at, may hardly\r\ncatch our attention at all. The optical impression may affect\r\nsolely the marginal consciousness, while the mental focus keeps\r\nengaged with rival things. We may indeed not \u0027see\u0027 it till some one\r\npoints it out. But, if so, how does he point it out? By his finger,\r\nand by describing its appearance,\u0026mdash;by creating a premonitory\r\nimage of \u003ci\u003ewhere\u003c/i\u003e to look and of \u003ci\u003ewhat\u003c/i\u003e to expect to see.\r\nThis premonitory image is already an excitement of the same\r\nnerve-centres that are to be concerned with the impression. The\r\nimpression comes, and excites them still further; and now the\r\nobject enters the focus of the field, consciousness being sustained\r\nboth by impression and by preliminary idea. But the maximum of\r\nattention to it is not yet reached. Although we see it, we may not\r\ncare for it; it may suggest nothing important to us; and a rival\r\nstream of objects or of thoughts may quickly take our mind away.\r\nIf, however, our companion defines it in a significant way, arouses\r\nin the mind a set of experiences to be apprehended from\r\nit,\u0026mdash;names it an enemy or as a messenger of important\r\ntidings,\u0026mdash;the residual and marginal ideas now aroused, so far\r\nfrom being its rivals, become its associates and allies. They shoot\r\ntogether into one system with it; they converge upon it; they keep\r\nit steadily in focus; the mind attends to it with maximum\r\npower.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe attentive process, therefore, at its maximum may be\r\nphysiologically symbolized by a brain-cell played on in two ways,\r\nfrom without and from within. Incoming currents from the periphery\r\narouse it, and collateral currents from the centres of memory and\r\nimagination re-enforce these.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn this process the incoming impression is the newer element;\r\nthe ideas which re-enforce and sustain it are among the older\r\npossessions of the mind. And the maximum of attention may then be\r\nsaid to be found whenever we have a systematic harmony or\r\nunification between the novel and the old. It is an odd\r\ncircumstance that neither the old nor the new, by itself, is\r\ninteresting: the absolutely old is insipid; the absolutely new\r\nmakes no appeal at all. The old \u003ci\u003ein\u003c/i\u003e the new is what claims\r\nthe attention,\u0026mdash;the old with a slightly new turn. No one wants\r\nto hear a lecture on a subject completely disconnected with his\r\nprevious knowledge, but we all like lectures on subjects of which\r\nwe know a little already, just as, in the fashions, every year must\r\nbring its slight modification of last year\u0027s suit, but an abrupt\r\njump from the fashion of one decade into another would be\r\ndistasteful to the eye.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe genius of the interesting teacher consists in sympathetic\r\ndivination of the sort of material with which the pupil\u0027s mind is\r\nlikely to be already spontaneously engaged, and in the ingenuity\r\nwhich discovers paths of connection from that material to the\r\nmatters to be newly learned. The principle is easy to grasp, but\r\nthe accomplishment is difficult in the extreme. And a knowledge of\r\nsuch psychology as this which I am recalling can no more make a\r\ngood teacher than a knowledge of the laws of perspective can make a\r\nlandscape painter of effective skill.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA certain doubt may now occur to some of you. A while ago,\r\napropos of the pugnacious instinct, I spoke of our modern pedagogy\r\nas being possibly too \u0027soft.\u0027 You may perhaps here face me with my\r\nown words, and ask whether the exclusive effort on the teacher\u0027s\r\npart to keep the pupil\u0027s spontaneous interest going, and to avoid\r\nthe more strenuous path of voluntary attention to repulsive work,\r\ndoes not savor also of sentimentalism. The greater part of\r\nschoolroom work, you say, must, in the nature of things, always be\r\nrepulsive. To face uninteresting drudgery is a good part of life\u0027s\r\nwork. Why seek to eliminate it from the schoolroom or minimize the\r\nsterner law?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA word or two will obviate what might perhaps become a serious\r\nmisunderstanding here.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is certain that most schoolroom work, till it has become\r\nhabitual and automatic, is repulsive, and cannot be done without\r\nvoluntarily jerking back the attention to it every now and then.\r\nThis is inevitable, let the teacher do what he will.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt flows from the inherent nature of the subjects and of the\r\nlearning mind. The repulsive processes of verbal memorizing, of\r\ndiscovering steps of mathematical identity, and the like, must\r\nborrow their interest at first from purely external sources, mainly\r\nfrom the personal interests with which success in mastering them is\r\nassociated, such as gaining of rank, avoiding punishment, not being\r\nbeaten by a difficulty and the like. Without such borrowed\r\ninterest, the child could not attend to them at all. But in these\r\nprocesses what becomes interesting enough to be attended to is not\r\nthereby attended to \u003ci\u003ewithout effort\u003c/i\u003e. Effort always has to go\r\non* derived interest, for the most part, not awakening attention\r\nthat is \u003ci\u003eeasy\u003c/i\u003e, however spontaneous it may now have to be\r\ncalled. The interest which the teacher, by his utmost skill, can\r\nlend to the subject, proves over and over again to be only an\r\ninterest sufficient \u003ci\u003eto let loose the effort\u003c/i\u003e. The teacher,\r\ntherefore, need never concern himself about \u003ci\u003einventing\u003c/i\u003e\r\noccasions where effort must be called into play. Let him still\r\nawaken whatever sources of interest in the subject he can by\r\nstirring up connections between it and the pupil\u0027s nature, whether\r\nin the line of theoretic curiosity, of personal interest, or of\r\npugnacious impulse. The laws of mind will then bring enough pulses\r\nof effort into play to keep the pupil exercised in the direction of\r\nthe subject. There is, in fact, no greater school of effort than\r\nthe steady struggle to attend to immediately repulsive or difficult\r\nobjects of thought which have grown to interest us through their\r\nassociation as means, with some remote ideal end.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Herbartian doctrine of interest ought not, therefore, in\r\nprinciple to be reproached with making pedagogy soft. If it do so,\r\nit is because it is unintelligently carried on. Do not, then, for\r\nthe mere sake of discipline, command attention from your pupils in\r\nthundering tones. Do not too often beg it from them as a favor, nor\r\nclaim it as a right, nor try habitually to excite it by preaching\r\nthe importance of the subject. Sometimes, indeed, you must do these\r\nthings; but, the more you have to do them, the less skilful teacher\r\nyou will show yourself to be. Elicit interest from within, by the\r\nwarmth with which you care for the topic yourself, and by following\r\nthe laws I have laid down.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf the topic be highly abstract, show its nature by concrete\r\nexamples. If it be unfamiliar, trace some point of analogy in it\r\nwith the known. If it be inhuman, make it figure as part of a\r\nstory. If it be difficult, couple its acquisition with some\r\nprospect of personal gain. Above all things, make sure that it\r\nshall run through certain inner changes, since no unvarying object\r\ncan possibly hold the mental field for long. Let your pupil wander\r\nfrom one aspect to another of your subject, if you do not wish him\r\nto wander from it altogether to something else, variety in unity\r\nbeing the secret of all interesting talk and thought. The relation\r\nof all these things to the native genius of the instructor is too\r\nobvious to need comment again.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne more point, and I am done with the subject of attention.\r\nThere is unquestionably a great native variety among individuals in\r\nthe type of their attention. Some of us are naturally\r\nscatterbrained, and others follow easily a train of connected\r\nthoughts without temptation to swerve aside to other subjects. This\r\nseems to depend on a difference between individuals in the type of\r\ntheir field of consciousness. In some persons this is highly\r\nfocalized and concentrated, and the focal ideas predominate in\r\ndetermining association. In others we must suppose the margin to be\r\nbrighter, and to be filled with something like meteoric showers of\r\nimages, which strike into it at random, displacing the focal ideas,\r\nand carrying association in their own direction. Persons of the\r\nlatter type find their attention wandering every minute, and must\r\nbring it back by a voluntary pull. The others sink into a subject\r\nof meditation deeply, and, when interrupted, are \u0027lost\u0027 for a\r\nmoment before they come back to the outer world.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe possession of such a steady faculty of attention is\r\nunquestionably a great boon. Those who have it can work more\r\nrapidly, and with less nervous wear and tear. I am inclined to\r\nthink that no one who is without it naturally can by any amount of\r\ndrill or discipline attain it in a very high degree. Its amount is\r\nprobably a fixed characteristic of the individual. But I wish to\r\nmake a remark here which I shall have occasion to make again in\r\nother connections. It is that no one need deplore unduly the\r\ninferiority in himself of any one elementary faculty. This\r\nconcentrated type of attention is an elementary faculty: it is one\r\nof the things that might be ascertained and measured by exercises\r\nin the laboratory. But, having ascertained it in a number of\r\npersons, we could never rank them in a scale of actual and\r\npractical mental efficiency based on its degrees. The total mental\r\nefficiency of a man is the resultant of the working together of all\r\nhis faculties. He is too complex a being for any one of them to\r\nhave the casting vote. If any one of them do have the casting vote,\r\nit is more likely to be the strength of his desire and passion, the\r\nstrength of the interest he takes in what is proposed.\r\nConcentration, memory, reasoning power, inventiveness, excellence\r\nof the senses,\u0026mdash;all are subsidiary to this. No matter how\r\nscatter-brained the type of a man\u0027s successive fields of\r\nconsciousness may be, if he really \u003ci\u003ecare\u003c/i\u003e for a subject, he\r\nwill return to it incessantly from his incessant wanderings, and\r\nfirst and last do more with it, and get more results from it, than\r\nanother person whose attention may be more continuous during a\r\ngiven interval, but whose passion for the subject is of a more\r\nlanguid and less permanent sort. Some of the most efficient workers\r\nI know are of the ultra-scatterbrained type. One friend, who does a\r\nprodigious quantity of work, has in fact confessed to me that, if\r\nhe wants to get ideas on any subject, he sits down to work at\r\nsomething else, his best results coming through his\r\nmind-wanderings. This is perhaps an epigrammatic exaggeration on\r\nhis part; but I seriously think that no one of us need be too much\r\ndistressed at his own shortcomings in this regard. Our mind may\r\nenjoy but little comfort, may be restless and feel confused; but it\r\nmay be extremely efficient all the same.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"XII__MEMORY\" id=\"XII__MEMORY\" /\u003eXII. MEMORY\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe are following a somewhat arbitrary order. Since each and\r\nevery faculty we possess is either in whole or in part a resultant\r\nof the play of our associations, it would have been as natural,\r\nafter treating of association, to treat of memory as to treat of\r\ninterest and attention next. But, since we did take the latter\r\noperations first, we must take memory now without farther delay;\r\nfor the phenomena of memory are among the simplest and most\r\nimmediate consequences of the fact that our mind is essentially an\r\nassociating machine. There is no more pre-eminent example for\r\nexhibiting the fertility of the laws of association as principles\r\nof psychological analysis. Memory, moreover, is so important a\r\nfaculty in the schoolroom that you are probably waiting with some\r\neagerness to know what psychology has to say about it for your\r\nhelp.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn old times, if you asked a person to explain why he came to be\r\nremembering at that moment some particular incident in his previous\r\nlife, the only reply he could make was that his soul is endowed\r\nwith a faculty called memory; that it is the inalienable function\r\nof this faculty to recollect; and that, therefore, he necessarily\r\nat that moment must have a cognition of that portion of the past.\r\nThis explanation by a \u0027faculty\u0027 is one thing which explanation by\r\nassociation has superseded altogether. If, by saying we have a\r\nfaculty of memory, you mean nothing more than the fact that we can\r\nremember, nothing more than an abstract name for our power inwardly\r\nto recall the past, there is no harm done: we do have the faculty;\r\nfor we unquestionably have such a power. But if, by faculty, you\r\nmean a principle of \u003ci\u003eexplanation of our general power to\r\nrecall\u003c/i\u003e, your psychology is empty. The associationist\r\npsychology, on the other hand, gives an explanation of each\r\nparticular fact of recollection; and, in so doing, it also gives an\r\nexplanation of the general faculty. The \u0027faculty\u0027 of memory is thus\r\nno real or ultimate explanation; for it is itself explained as a\r\nresult of the association of ideas.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNothing is easier than to show you just what I mean by this.\r\nSuppose I am silent for a moment, and then say in commanding\r\naccents: \"Remember! Recollect!\" Does your faculty of memory obey\r\nthe order, and reproduce any definite image from your past?\r\nCertainly not. It stands staring into vacancy, and asking, \"What\r\nkind of a thing do you wish me to remember?\" It needs in short, a\r\n\u003ci\u003ecue\u003c/i\u003e. But, if I say, remember the date of your birth, or\r\nremember what you had for breakfast, or remember the succession of\r\nnotes in the musical scale; then your faculty of memory immediately\r\nproduces the required result: the \u003ci\u003e\u0027cue\u0027\u003c/i\u003e determines its vast\r\nset of potentialities toward a particular point. And if you now\r\nlook to see how this happens, you immediately perceive that the cue\r\nis something \u003ci\u003econtiguously associated\u003c/i\u003e with the thing\r\nrecalled. The words, \u0027date of my birth,\u0027 have an ingrained\r\nassociation with a particular number, month, and year; the words,\r\n\u0027breakfast this morning,\u0027 cut off all other lines of recall except\r\nthose which lead to coffee and bacon and eggs; the words, \u0027musical\r\nscale,\u0027 are inveterate mental neighbors of do, r\u0026eacute;, mi, fa,\r\nsol, la, etc. The laws of association govern, in fact, all the\r\ntrains of our thinking which are not interrupted by sensations\r\nbreaking on us from without. Whatever appears in the mind must be\r\n\u003ci\u003eintroduced\u003c/i\u003e; and, when introduced, it is as the associate of\r\nsomething already there. This is as true of what you are\r\nrecollecting as it is of everything else you think of.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eReflection will show you that there are peculiarities in your\r\nmemory which would be quite whimsical and unaccountable if we were\r\nforced to regard them as the product of a purely spiritual faculty.\r\nWere memory such a faculty, granted to us solely for its practical\r\nuse, we ought to remember easiest whatever we most \u003ci\u003eneeded\u003c/i\u003e to\r\nremember; and frequency of repetition, recency, and the like, would\r\nplay no part in the matter. That we should best remember frequent\r\nthings and recent things, and forget things that are ancient or\r\nwere experienced only once, could only be regarded as an\r\nincomprehensible anomaly on such a view. But if we remember because\r\nof our associations, and if these are (as the physiological\r\npsychologists believe) due to our organized brain-paths, we easily\r\nsee how the law of recency and repetition should prevail. Paths\r\nfrequently and recently ploughed are those that lie most open,\r\nthose which may be expected most easily to lead to results. The\r\nlaws of our memory, as we find them, therefore are incidents of our\r\nassociational constitution; and, when we are emancipated from the\r\nflesh, it is conceivable that they may no longer continue to\r\nobtain.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe may assume, then, that recollection is a resultant of our\r\nassociative processes, these themselves in the last analysis being\r\nmost probably due to the workings of our brain.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eDescending more particularly into the faculty of memory, we have\r\nto distinguish between its potential aspect as a magazine or\r\nstorehouse and its actual aspect as recollection now of a\r\nparticular event. Our memory contains all sorts of items which we\r\ndo not now recall, but which we may recall, provided a sufficient\r\ncue be offered. Both the general retention and the special recall\r\nare explained by association. An educated memory depends on an\r\norganized system of associations; and its goodness depends on two\r\nof their peculiarities: first, on the persistency of the\r\nassociations; and, second, on their number.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet us consider each of these points in turn.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFirst, the persistency of the associations. This gives what may\r\nbe called the \u003ci\u003equality of native retentiveness\u003c/i\u003e to the\r\nindividual. If, as I think we are forced to, we consider the brain\r\nto be the organic condition by which the vestiges of our experience\r\nare associated with each other, we may suppose that some brains are\r\n\u0027wax to receive and marble to retain.\u0027 The slightest impressions\r\nmade on them abide. Names, dates, prices, anecdotes, quotations,\r\nare indelibly retained, their several elements fixedly cohering\r\ntogether, so that the individual soon becomes a walking\r\ncyclop\u0026aelig;dia of information. All this may occur with no\r\nphilosophic tendency in the mind, no impulse to weave the materials\r\nacquired into anything like a logical system. In the books of\r\nanecdotes, and, more recently, in the psychology-books, we find\r\nrecorded instances of monstrosities, as we may call them, of this\r\ndesultory memory; and they are often otherwise very stupid men. It\r\nis, of course, by no means incompatible with a philosophic mind;\r\nfor mental characteristics have infinite capacities for\r\npermutation. And, when both memory and philosophy combine together\r\nin one person, then indeed we have the highest sort of intellectual\r\nefficiency. Your Walter Scotts, your Leibnitzes, your Gladstones,\r\nand your Goethes, all your folio copies of mankind, belong to this\r\ntype. Efficiency on a colossal scale would indeed seem to require\r\nit. For, although your philosophic or systematic mind without good\r\ndesultory memory may know how to work out results and recollect\r\nwhere in the books to find them, the time lost in the searching\r\nprocess handicaps the thinker, and gives to the more ready type of\r\nindividual the economical advantage.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe extreme of the contrasted type, the type with associations\r\nof small persistency, is found in those who have almost no\r\ndesultory memory at all. If they are also deficient in logical and\r\nsystematizing power, we call them simply feeble intellects; and no\r\nmore need to be said about them here. Their brain-matter, we may\r\nimagine, is like a fluid jelly, in which impressions may be easily\r\nmade, but are soon closed over again, so that the brain reverts to\r\nits original indifferent state.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut it may occur here, just as in other gelatinous substances,\r\nthat an impression will vibrate throughout the brain, and send\r\nwaves into other parts of it. In cases of this sort, although the\r\nimmediate impression may fade out quickly, it does modify the\r\ncerebral mass; for the paths it makes there may remain, and become\r\nso many avenues through which the impression may be reproduced if\r\nthey ever get excited again. And its liability to reproduction will\r\ndepend of course upon the variety of these paths and upon the\r\nfrequency with which they are used. Each path is in fact an\r\nassociated process, the number of these associates becoming thus to\r\na great degree a substitute for the independent tenacity of the\r\noriginal impression. As I have elsewhere written: Each of the\r\nassociates is a hook to which it hangs, a means to fish it up when\r\nsunk below the surface. Together they form a network of attachments\r\nby which it is woven into the entire tissue of our thought. The\r\n\u0027secret of a good memory\u0027 is thus the secret of forming diverse and\r\nmultiple associations with every fact we care to retain. But this\r\nforming of associations with a fact,\u0026mdash;what is it but thinking\r\n\u003ci\u003eabout\u003c/i\u003e the fact as much as possible? Briefly, then, of two\r\nmen with the same outward experiences, \u003ci\u003ethe one who thinks over\r\nhis experiences most\u003c/i\u003e, and weaves them into the most systematic\r\nrelations with each other, will be the one with the best\r\nmemory.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut, if our ability to recollect a thing be so largely a matter\r\nof its associations with other things which thus becomes its cues,\r\nan important p\u0026aelig;dagogic consequence follows. \u003ci\u003eThere can be\r\nno improvement of the general or elementary faculty of memory:\r\nthere can only be improvement of our memory for special systems of\r\nassociated things\u003c/i\u003e; and this latter improvement is due to the\r\nway in which the things in question are woven into association with\r\neach other in the mind. Intricately or profoundly woven, they are\r\nheld: disconnected, they tend to drop out just in proportion as the\r\nnative brain retentiveness is poor. And no amount of training,\r\ndrilling, repeating, and reciting employed upon the matter of one\r\nsystem of objects, the history-system, for example, will in the\r\nleast improve either the facility or the durability with which\r\nobjects belonging to a wholly disparate system\u0026mdash;the system of\r\nfacts of chemistry, for instance\u0026mdash;tend to be retained. That\r\nsystem must be separately worked into the mind by itself,\u0026mdash;a\r\nchemical fact which is thought about in connection with the other\r\nchemical facts, tending then to stay, but otherwise easily dropping\r\nout.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have, then, not so much a faculty of memory as many faculties\r\nof memory. We have as many as we have systems of objects habitually\r\nthought of in connection with each other. A given object is held in\r\nthe memory by the associates it has acquired within its own system\r\nexclusively. Learning the facts of another system will in no wise\r\nhelp it to stay in the mind, for the simple reason that it has no\r\n\u0027cues\u0027 within that other system.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe see examples of this on every hand. Most men have a good\r\nmemory for facts connected with their own pursuits. A college\r\nathlete, who remains a dunce at his books, may amaze you by his\r\nknowledge of the \u0027records\u0027 at various feats and games, and prove\r\nhimself a walking dictionary of sporting statistics. The reason is\r\nthat he is constantly going over these things in his mind, and\r\ncomparing and making series of them. They form for him, not so many\r\nodd facts, but a concept-system, so they stick. So the merchant\r\nremembers prices, the politician other politicians\u0027 speeches and\r\nvotes, with a copiousness which astonishes outsiders, but which the\r\namount of thinking they bestow on these subjects easily\r\nexplains.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe great memory for facts which a Darwin or a Spencer reveal in\r\ntheir books is not incompatible with the possession on their part\r\nof a mind with only a middling degree of physiological\r\nretentiveness. Let a man early in life set himself the task of\r\nverifying such a theory as that of evolution, and facts will soon\r\ncluster and cling to him like grapes to their stem. Their relations\r\nto the theory will hold them fast; and, the more of these the mind\r\nis able to discern, the greater the erudition will become.\r\nMeanwhile the theorist may have little, if any, desultory memory.\r\nUnutilizable facts may be unnoted by him, and forgotten as soon as\r\nheard. An ignorance almost as encyclopedic as his erudition may\r\ncoexist with the latter, and hide, as it were, within the\r\ninterstices of its web. Those of you who have had much to do with\r\nscholars and \u003ci\u003esavants\u003c/i\u003e will readily think of examples of the\r\nclass of mind I mean.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe best possible sort of system into which to weave an object,\r\nmentally, is a \u003ci\u003erational\u003c/i\u003e system, or what is called a\r\n\u0027science.\u0027 Place the thing in its pigeon-hole in a classificatory\r\nseries; explain it logically by its causes, and deduce from it its\r\nnecessary effects; find out of what natural law it is an\r\ninstance,\u0026mdash;and you then know it in the best of all possible\r\nways. A \u0027science\u0027 is thus the greatest of labor-saving\r\ncontrivances. It relieves the memory of an immense number of\r\ndetails, replacing, as it does, merely contiguous associations by\r\nthe logical ones of identity, similarity, or analogy. If you know a\r\n\u0027law,\u0027 you may discharge your memory of masses of particular\r\ninstances, for the law will reproduce them for you whenever you\r\nrequire them. The law of refraction, for example: If you know that,\r\nyou can with a pencil and a bit of paper immediately discern how a\r\nconvex lens, a concave lens, or a prism, must severally alter the\r\nappearance of an object. But, if you don\u0027t know the general law,\r\nyou must charge your memory separately with each of the three kinds\r\nof effect.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA \u0027philosophic\u0027 system, in which all things found their rational\r\nexplanation and were connected together as causes and effects,\r\nwould be the perfect mnemonic system, in which the greatest economy\r\nof means would bring about the greatest richness of results. So\r\nthat, if we have poor desultory memories, we can save ourselves by\r\ncultivating the philosophic turn of mind.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere are many artificial systems of mnemonics, some public,\r\nsome sold as secrets. They are all so many devices for training us\r\ninto certain methodical and stereotyped \u003ci\u003eways of thinking\u003c/i\u003e\r\nabout the facts we seek to retain. Even were I competent, I could\r\nnot here go into these systems in any detail. But a single example,\r\nfrom a popular system, will show what I mean. I take the\r\nnumber-alphabet, the great mnemonic device for recollecting numbers\r\nand dates. In this system each digit is represented by a consonant,\r\nthus: 1 is \u003ci\u003et\u003c/i\u003e or \u003ci\u003ed\u003c/i\u003e; 2, \u003ci\u003en\u003c/i\u003e; 3, \u003ci\u003em\u003c/i\u003e; 4,\r\n\u003ci\u003er\u003c/i\u003e; 5, \u003ci\u003el\u003c/i\u003e; 6, \u003ci\u003esh, j, ch\u003c/i\u003e, or \u003ci\u003eg\u003c/i\u003e; 7, \u003ci\u003ec,\r\nk, g\u003c/i\u003e, or \u003ci\u003equ\u003c/i\u003e; 8, \u003ci\u003ef\u003c/i\u003e or \u003ci\u003ev\u003c/i\u003e; 9, \u003ci\u003eb\u003c/i\u003e or\r\n\u003ci\u003ep\u003c/i\u003e; 0, \u003ci\u003es, c\u003c/i\u003e, or \u003ci\u003ez\u003c/i\u003e. Suppose, now, you wish to\r\nremember the velocity of sound, 1,142 feet a second: \u003ci\u003et, t, r,\r\nn\u003c/i\u003e, are the letters you must use. They make the consonants of\r\n\u003ci\u003etight run\u003c/i\u003e, and it would be a \u0027tight run\u0027 for you to keep up\r\nsuch a speed. So 1649, the date of the execution of Charles I., may\r\nbe remembered by the word \u003ci\u003esharp\u003c/i\u003e, which recalls the\r\nheadsman\u0027s axe.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eApart from the extreme difficulty of finding words that are\r\nappropriate in this exercise, it is clearly an excessively poor,\r\ntrivial, and silly way of \u0027thinking\u0027 about dates; and the way of\r\nthe historian is much better. He has a lot of landmark-dates\r\nalready in his mind. He knows the historic concatenation of events,\r\nand can usually place an event at its right date in the\r\nchronology-table, by thinking of it in a rational way, referring it\r\nto its antecedents, tracing its concomitants and consequences, and\r\nthus ciphering out its date by connecting it with theirs. The\r\nartificial memory-systems, recommending, as they do, such\r\nirrational methods of thinking, are only to be recommended for the\r\nfirst landmarks in a system, or for such purely detached facts as\r\nenjoy no rational connection with the rest of our ideas. Thus the\r\nstudent of physics may remember the order of the spectral colours\r\nby the word \u003ci\u003evibgyor\u003c/i\u003e which their initial letters make. The\r\nstudent of anatomy may remember the position of the Mitral valve on\r\nthe Left side of the heart by thinking that L.M. stands also for\r\n\u0027long meter\u0027 in the hymn-books.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eYou now see why \u0027cramming\u0027 must be so poor a mode of study.\r\nCramming seeks to stamp things in by intense application\r\nimmediately before the ordeal. But a thing thus learned can form\r\nbut few associations. On the other hand, the same thing recurring\r\non different days, in different contexts, read, recited on,\r\nreferred to again and again, related to other things and reviewed,\r\ngets well wrought into the mental structure. This is the reason why\r\nyou should enforce on your pupils habits of continuous application.\r\nThere is no moral turpitude in cramming. It would be the best,\r\nbecause the most economical, mode of study if it led to the results\r\ndesired. But it does not, and your older pupils can readily be made\r\nto see the reason why.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt follows also, from what has been said, that \u003ci\u003ethe popular\r\nidea that \u0027the Memory,\u0027 in the sense of a general elementary\r\nfaculty, can be improved by training, is a great mistake\u003c/i\u003e. Your\r\nmemory for facts of a certain class can be improved very much by\r\ntraining in that class of facts, because the incoming new fact will\r\nthen find all sorts of analogues and associates already there, and\r\nthese will keep it liable to recall. But other kinds of fact will\r\nreap none of that benefit, and, unless one have been also trained\r\nand versed in \u003ci\u003etheir\u003c/i\u003e class, will be at the mercy of the mere\r\ncrude retentiveness of the individual, which, as we have seen, is\r\npractically a fixed quantity. Nevertheless, one often hears people\r\nsay: \"A great sin was committed against me in my youth: my teachers\r\nentirely failed to exercise my memory. If they had only made me\r\nlearn a lot of things by heart at school, I should not be, as I am\r\nnow, forgetful of everything I read and hear.\" This is a great\r\nmistake: learning poetry by heart will make it easier to learn and\r\nremember other poetry, but nothing else; and so of dates; and so of\r\nchemistry and geography.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut, after what I have said, I am sure you will need no farther\r\nargument on this point; and I therefore pass it by.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut, since it has brought me to speak of learning things by\r\nheart, I think that a general practical remark about verbal\r\nmemorizing may now not be out of place. The excesses of\r\nold-fashioned verbal memorizing, and the immense advantages of\r\nobject-teaching in the earlier stages of culture, have perhaps led\r\nthose who philosophize about teaching to an unduly strong reaction;\r\nand learning things by heart is now probably somewhat too much\r\ndespised. For, when all is said and done, the fact remains that\r\nverbal material is, on the whole, the handiest and most useful\r\nmaterial in which thinking can be carried on. Abstract conceptions\r\nare far and away the most economical instruments of thought, and\r\nabstract conceptions are fixed and incarnated for us in words.\r\nStatistical inquiry would seem to show that, as men advance in\r\nlife, they tend to make less and less use of visual images, and\r\nmore and more use of words. One of the first things that Mr. Galton\r\ndiscovered was that this appeared to be the case with the members\r\nof the Royal Society whom he questioned as to their mental images.\r\nI should say, therefore, that constant exercise in verbal\r\nmemorizing must still be an indispensable feature in all sound\r\neducation. Nothing is more deplorable than that inarticulate and\r\nhelpless sort of mind that is reminded by everything of some\r\nquotation, case, or anecdote, which it cannot now exactly\r\nrecollect. Nothing, on the other hand, is more convenient to its\r\npossessor, or more delightful to his comrades, than a mind able, in\r\ntelling a story, to give the exact words of the dialogue or to\r\nfurnish a quotation accurate and complete. In every branch of study\r\nthere are happily turned, concise, and handy formulas which in an\r\nincomparable way sum up results. The mind that can retain such\r\nformulas is in so far a superior mind, and the communication of\r\nthem to the pupil ought always to be one of the teacher\u0027s favorite\r\ntasks.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn learning \u0027by heart,\u0027 there are, however, efficient and\r\ninefficient methods; and, by making the pupil skilful in the best\r\nmethod, the teacher can both interest him and abridge the task. The\r\nbest method is of course not to \u0027hammer in\u0027 the sentences, by mere\r\nreiteration, but to analyze them, and think. For example, if the\r\npupil should have to learn this last sentence, let him first strip\r\nout its grammatical core, and learn, \"The best method is not to\r\nhammer in, but to analyze,\" and then add the amplificative and\r\nrestrictive clauses, bit by bit, thus: \"The best method is of\r\ncourse not to hammer in \u003ci\u003ethe sentences\u003c/i\u003e, but to analyze\r\n\u003ci\u003ethem and think\u003c/i\u003e.\" Then finally insert the words \u0027\u003ci\u003eby mere\r\nreiteration\u003c/i\u003e,\u0027 and the sentence is complete, and both better\r\nunderstood and quicker remembered than by a more purely mechanical\r\nmethod.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn conclusion, I must say a word about the contributions to our\r\nknowledge of memory which have recently come from the\r\nlaboratory-psychologists. Many of the enthusiasts for scientific or\r\nbrass-instrument child-study are taking accurate measurements of\r\nchildren\u0027s elementary faculties, and among these what we may call\r\n\u003ci\u003eimmediate memory\u003c/i\u003e admits of easy measurement. All we need do\r\nis to exhibit to the child a series of letters, syllables, figures,\r\npictures, or what-not, at intervals of one, two, three, or more\r\nseconds, or to sound a similar series of names at the same\r\nintervals, within his hearing, and then see how completely he can\r\nreproduce the list, either directly, or after an interval of ten,\r\ntwenty, or sixty seconds, or some longer space of time. According\r\nto the results of this exercise, the pupils may be rated in a\r\nmemory-scale; and some persons go so far as to think that the\r\nteacher should modify her treatment of the child according to the\r\nstrength or feebleness of its faculty as thus made known.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow I can only repeat here what I said to you when treating of\r\nattention: man is too complex a being for light to be thrown on his\r\nreal efficiency by measuring any one mental faculty taken apart\r\nfrom its consensus in the working whole. Such an exercise as this,\r\ndealing with incoherent and insipid objects, with no logical\r\nconnection with each other, or practical significance outside of\r\nthe \u0027test,\u0027 is an exercise the like of which in real life we are\r\nhardly ever called upon to perform. In real life, our memory is\r\nalways used in the service of some interest: we remember things\r\nwhich we care for or which are associated with things we care for;\r\nand the child who stands at the bottom of the scale thus\r\nexperimentally established might, by dint of the strength of his\r\npassion for a subject, and in consequence of the logical\r\nassociation into which he weaves the actual materials of his\r\nexperience, be a very effective memorizer indeed, and do his\r\nschool-tasks on the whole much better than an immediate parrot who\r\nmight stand at the top of the \u0027scientifically accurate\u0027 list.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis preponderance of interest, of passion, in determining the\r\nresults of a human being\u0027s working life, obtains throughout. No\r\nelementary measurement, capable of being performed in a laboratory,\r\ncan throw any light on the actual efficiency of the subject; for\r\nthe vital thing about him, his emotional and moral energy and\r\ndoggedness, can be measured by no single experiment, and becomes\r\nknown only by the total results in the long run. A blind man like\r\nHuber, with his passion for bees and ants, can observe them through\r\nother people\u0027s eyes better than these can through their own. A man\r\nborn with neither arms nor legs, like the late Kavanagh,\r\nM.P.\u0026mdash;and what an icy heart his mother must have had about him\r\nin his babyhood, and how \u0027negative\u0027 would the\r\nlaboratory-measurements of his motor-functions have been!\u0026mdash;can\r\nbe an adventurous traveller, an equestrian and sportsman, and lead\r\nan athletic outdoor life. Mr. Romanes studied the elementary rate\r\nof apperception in a large number of persons by making them read a\r\nparagraph as fast as they could take it in, and then immediately\r\nwrite down all they could reproduce of its contents. He found\r\nastonishing differences in the rapidity, some taking four times as\r\nlong as others to absorb the paragraph, and the swiftest readers\r\nbeing, as a rule, the best immediate recollectors, too. But\r\nnot,\u0026mdash;and this is my point,\u0026mdash;\u003ci\u003enot\u003c/i\u003e the most\r\n\u003ci\u003eintellectually capable subjects\u003c/i\u003e, as tested by the results of\r\nwhat Mr. Romanes rightly names \u0027genuine\u0027 intellectual work; for he\r\ntried the experiment with several highly distinguished men in\r\nscience and literature, and most of them turned out to be slow\r\nreaders.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the light of all such facts one may well believe that the\r\ntotal impression which a perceptive teacher will get of the pupil\u0027s\r\ncondition, as indicated by his general temper and manner, by the\r\nlistlessness or alertness, by the ease or painfulness with which\r\nhis school work is done, will be of much more value than those\r\nunreal experimental tests, those pedantic elementary measurements\r\nof fatigue, memory, association, and attention, etc., which are\r\nurged upon us as the only basis of a genuinely scientific pedagogy.\r\nSuch measurements can give us useful information only when we\r\ncombine them with observations made without brass instruments, upon\r\nthe total demeanor of the measured individual, by teachers with\r\neyes in their heads and common sense, and some feeling for the\r\nconcrete facts of human nature in their hearts.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eDepend upon it, no one need be too much cast down by the\r\ndiscovery of his deficiency in any elementary faculty of the mind.\r\nWhat tells in life is the whole mind working together, and the\r\ndeficiencies of any one faculty can be compensated by the efforts\r\nof the rest. You can be an artist without visual images, a reader\r\nwithout eyes, a mass of erudition with a bad elementary memory. In\r\nalmost any subject your passion for the subject will save you. If\r\nyou only care enough for a result, you will almost certainly attain\r\nit. If you wish to be rich, you will be rich; if you wish to be\r\nlearned, you will be learned; if you wish to be good, you will be\r\ngood. Only you must, then, \u003ci\u003ereally\u003c/i\u003e wish these things, and\r\nwish them with exclusiveness, and not wish at the same time a\r\nhundred other incompatible things just as strongly.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne of the most important discoveries of the \u0027scientific\u0027 sort\r\nthat have recently been made in psychology is that of Mr. Galton\r\nand others concerning the great variations among individuals in the\r\ntype of their imagination. Every one is now familiar with the fact\r\nthat human beings vary enormously in the brilliancy, completeness,\r\ndefiniteness, and extent of their visual images. These are\r\nsingularly perfect in a large number of individuals, and in a few\r\nare so rudimentary as hardly to exist. The same is true of the\r\nauditory and motor images, and probably of those of every kind; and\r\nthe recent discovery of distinct brain-areas for the various orders\r\nof sensation would seem to provide a physical basis for such\r\nvariations and discrepancies. The facts, as I said, are nowadays so\r\npopularly known that I need only remind you of their existence.\r\nThey might seem at first sight of practical importance to the\r\nteacher; and, indeed, teachers have been recommended to sort their\r\npupils in this way, and treat them as the result falls out. You\r\nshould interrogate them as to their imagery, it is said, or exhibit\r\nlists of written words to their eyes, and then sound similar lists\r\nin their ears, and see by which channel a child retains most words.\r\nThen, in dealing with that child, make your appeals predominantly\r\nthrough that channel. If the class were very small, results of some\r\ndistinctness might doubtless thus be obtained by a painstaking\r\nteacher. But it is obvious that in the usual schoolroom no such\r\ndifferentiation of appeal is possible; and the only really useful\r\npractical lesson that emerges from this analytic psychology in the\r\nconduct of large schools is the lesson already reached in a purely\r\nempirical way, that the teacher ought always to impress the class\r\nthrough as many sensible channels as he can. Talk and write and\r\ndraw on blackboard, permit the pupils to talk, and make them write\r\nand draw, exhibit pictures, plans, and curves, have your diagrams\r\ncolored differently in their different parts, etc.; and out of the\r\nwhole variety of impressions the individual child will find the\r\nmost lasting ones for himself. In all primary school work this\r\nprinciple of multiple impressions is well recognized, so I need say\r\nno more about it here.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis principle of multiplying channels and varying associations\r\nand appeals is important, not only for teaching pupils to remember,\r\nbut for teaching them to understand. It runs, in fact, through the\r\nwhole teaching art.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne word about the unconscious and unreproducible part of our\r\nacquisitions, and I shall have done with the topic of memory.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eProfessor Ebbinghaus, in a heroic little investigation into the\r\nlaws of memory which he performed a dozen or more years ago by the\r\nmethod of learning lists of nonsense syllables, devised a method of\r\nmeasuring the rate of our forgetfulness, which lays bare an\r\nimportant law of the mind.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eHis method was to read over his list until he could repeat it\r\nonce by heart unhesitatingly. The number of repetitions required\r\nfor this was a measure of the difficulty of the learning in each\r\nparticular case. Now, after having once learned a piece in this\r\nway, if we wait five minutes, we find it impossible to repeat it\r\nagain in the same unhesitating manner. We must read it over again\r\nto revive some of the syllables, which have already dropped out or\r\ngot transposed. Ebbinghaus now systematically studied the number of\r\nreadings-over which were necessary to revive the unhesitating\r\nrecollection of the piece after five minutes, half an hour, an\r\nhour, a day, a week, a month, had elapsed. The number of rereadings\r\nrequired he took to be a measure of the \u003ci\u003eamount of forgetting\u003c/i\u003e\r\nthat had occurred in the elapsed interval. And he found some\r\nremarkable facts. The process of forgetting, namely, is vastly more\r\nrapid at first than later on. Thus full half of the piece seems to\r\nbe forgotten within the first half-hour, two-thirds of it are\r\nforgotten at the end of eight hours, but only four-fifths at the\r\nend of a month. He made no trials beyond one month of interval;\r\nbut, if we ourselves prolong ideally the curve of remembrance,\r\nwhose beginning his experiments thus obtain, it is natural to\r\nsuppose that, no matter how long a time might elapse, the curve\r\nwould never descend quite so low as to touch the zero-line. In\r\nother words, no matter how long ago we may have learned a poem, and\r\nno matter how complete our inability to reproduce it now may be,\r\nyet the first learning will still show its lingering effects in the\r\nabridgment of the time required for learning it again. In short,\r\nProfessor Ebbinghaus\u0027s experiments show that things which we are\r\nquite unable definitely to recall have nevertheless impressed\r\nthemselves, in some way, upon the structure of the mind. We are\r\ndifferent for having once learned them. The resistances in our\r\nsystems of brain-paths are altered. Our apprehensions are\r\nquickened. Our conclusions from certain premises are probably not\r\njust what they would be if those modifications were not there. The\r\nlatter influence the whole margin of our consciousness, even though\r\ntheir products, not being distinctly reproducible, do not directly\r\nfigure at the focus of the field.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe teacher should draw a lesson from these facts. We are all\r\ntoo apt to measure the gains of our pupils by their proficiency in\r\ndirectly reproducing in a recitation or an examination such matters\r\nas they may have learned, and inarticulate power in them is\r\nsomething of which we always underestimate the value. The boy who\r\ntells us, \"I know the answer, but I can\u0027t say what it is,\" we treat\r\nas practically identical with him who knows absolutely nothing\r\nabout the answer at all. But this is a great mistake. It is but a\r\nsmall part of our experience in life that we are ever able\r\narticulately to recall. And yet the whole of it has had its\r\ninfluence in shaping our character and defining our tendencies to\r\njudge and act. Although the ready memory is a great blessing to its\r\npossessor, the vaguer memory of a subject, of having once had to do\r\nwith it, of its neighborhood, and of where we may go to recover it\r\nagain, constitutes in most men and women the chief fruit of their\r\neducation. This is true even in professional education. The doctor,\r\nthe lawyer, are seldom able to decide upon a case off-hand. They\r\ndiffer from other men only through the fact that they know how to\r\nget at the materials for decision in five minutes or half an hour:\r\nwhereas the layman is unable to get at the materials at all, not\r\nknowing in what books and indexes to look or not understanding the\r\ntechnical terms.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBe patient, then, and sympathetic with the type of mind that\r\ncuts a poor figure in examinations. It may, in the long examination\r\nwhich life sets us, come out in the end in better shape than the\r\nglib and ready reproducer, its passions being deeper, its purposes\r\nmore worthy, its combining power less commonplace, and its total\r\nmental output consequently more important.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch are the chief points which it has seemed worth while for me\r\nto call to your notice under the head of memory. We can sum them up\r\nfor practical purposes by saying that the art of remembering is the\r\nart of \u003ci\u003ethinking\u003c/i\u003e; and by adding, with Dr. Pick, that, when we\r\nwish to fix a new thing in either our own mind or a pupil\u0027s, our\r\nconscious effort should not be so much to \u003ci\u003eimpress\u003c/i\u003e and\r\n\u003ci\u003eretain\u003c/i\u003e it as to \u003ci\u003econnect\u003c/i\u003e it with something else\r\nalready there. The connecting \u003ci\u003eis\u003c/i\u003e the thinking; and, if we\r\nattend clearly to the connection, the connected thing will\r\ncertainly be likely to remain within recall.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI shall next ask you to consider the process by which we acquire\r\nnew knowledge,\u0026mdash;the process of \u0027Apperception,\u0027 as it is\r\ncalled, by which we receive and deal with new experiences, and\r\nrevise our stock of ideas so as to form new or improved\r\nconceptions.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"XIII__THE_ACQUISITION_OF_IDEAS\"\r\nid=\"XIII__THE_ACQUISITION_OF_IDEAS\" /\u003eXIII. THE ACQUISITION OF\r\nIDEAS\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe images of our past experiences, of whatever nature they may\r\nbe, visual or verbal, blurred and dim, vivid and distinct, abstract\r\nor concrete, need not be memory images, in the strict sense of the\r\nword. That is, they need not rise before the mind in a marginal\r\nfringe or context of concomitant circumstances, which mean for us\r\ntheir \u003ci\u003edate\u003c/i\u003e. They may be mere conceptions, floating pictures\r\nof an object, or of its type or class. In this undated condition,\r\nwe call them products of \u0027imagination\u0027 or \u0027conception.\u0027 Imagination\r\nis the term commonly used where the object represented is thought\r\nof as an individual thing. Conception is the term where we think of\r\nit as a type or class. For our present purpose the distinction is\r\nnot important; and I will permit myself to use either the word\r\n\u0027conception,\u0027 or the still vaguer word \u0027idea,\u0027 to designate the\r\ninner objects of contemplation, whether these be individual things,\r\nlike \u0027the sun\u0027 or \u0027Julius C\u0026aelig;sar,\u0027 or classes of things, like\r\n\u0027animal kingdom,\u0027 or, finally, entirely abstract attributes, like\r\n\u0027rationality\u0027 or \u0027rectitude.\u0027\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe result of our education is to fill the mind little by\r\nlittle, as experiences accrete, with a stock of such ideas. In the\r\nillustration I used at our first meeting, of the child snatching\r\nthe toy and getting slapped, the vestiges left by the first\r\nexperience answered to so many ideas which he acquired\r\nthereby,\u0026mdash;ideas that remained with him associated in a certain\r\norder, and from the last one of which the child eventually\r\nproceeded to act. The sciences of grammar and of logic are little\r\nmore than attempts methodically to classify all such acquired ideas\r\nand to trace certain laws of relationship among them. The forms of\r\nrelation between them, becoming themselves in turn noticed by the\r\nmind, are treated as conceptions of a higher and more abstract\r\norder, as when we speak of a syllogistic relation\u0027 between\r\npropositions, or of four quantities making a \u0027proportion,\u0027 or of\r\nthe \u0027inconsistency\u0027 of two conceptions, or the \u0027implication\u0027 of one\r\nin the other.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo you see that the process of education, taken in a large way,\r\nmay be described as nothing but the process of acquiring ideas or\r\nconceptions, the best educated mind being the mind which has the\r\nlargest stock of them, ready to meet the largest possible variety\r\nof the emergencies of life. The lack of education means only the\r\nfailure to have acquired them, and the consequent liability to be\r\n\u0027floored\u0027 and \u0027rattled\u0027 in the vicissitudes of experience.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn all this process of acquiring conceptions, a certain\r\ninstinctive order is followed. There is a native tendency to\r\nassimilate certain kinds of conception at one age, and other kinds\r\nof conception at a later age. During the first seven or eight years\r\nof childhood the mind is most interested in the sensible properties\r\nof material things. \u003ci\u003eConstructiveness\u003c/i\u003e is the instinct most\r\nactive; and by the incessant hammering and sawing, and dressing and\r\nundressing dolls, putting of things together and taking them apart,\r\nthe child not only trains the muscles to co-ordinate action, but\r\naccumulates a store of physical conceptions which are the basis of\r\nhis knowledge of the material world through life. Object-teaching\r\nand manual training wisely extend the sphere of this order of\r\nacquisition. Clay, wood, metals, and the various kinds of tools are\r\nmade to contribute to the store. A youth brought up with a\r\nsufficiently broad basis of this kind is always at home in the\r\nworld. He stands within the pale. He is acquainted with Nature, and\r\nNature in a certain sense is acquainted with him. Whereas the youth\r\nbrought up alone at home, with no acquaintance with anything but\r\nthe printed page, is always afflicted with a certain remoteness\r\nfrom the material facts of life, and a correlative insecurity of\r\nconsciousness which make of him a kind of alien on the earth in\r\nwhich he ought to feel himself perfectly at home.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI already said something of this in speaking of the constructive\r\nimpulse, and I must not repeat myself. Moreover, you fully realize,\r\nI am sure, how important for life,\u0026mdash;for the moral tone of\r\nlife, quite apart from definite practical pursuits,\u0026mdash;is this\r\nsense of readiness for emergencies which a man gains through early\r\nfamiliarity and acquaintance with the world of material things. To\r\nhave grown up on a farm, to have haunted a carpenter\u0027s and\r\nblacksmith\u0027s shop, to have handled horses and cows and boats and\r\nguns, and to have ideas and abilities connected with such objects\r\nare an inestimable part of youthful acquisition. After adolescence\r\nit is rare to be able to get into familiar touch with any of these\r\nprimitive things. The instinctive propensions have faded, and the\r\nhabits are hard to acquire.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAccordingly, one of the best fruits of the \u0027child-study\u0027\r\nmovement has been to reinstate all these activities to their proper\r\nplace in a sound system of education. \u003ci\u003eFeed\u003c/i\u003e the growing human\r\nbeing, feed him with the sort of experience for which from year to\r\nyear he shows a natural craving, and he will develop in adult life\r\na sounder sort of mental tissue, even though he may seem to be\r\n\u0027wasting\u0027 a great deal of his growing time, in the eyes of those\r\nfor whom the only channels of learning are books and verbally\r\ncommunicated information.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is not till adolescence is reached that the mind grows able\r\nto take in the more abstract aspects of experience, the hidden\r\nsimilarities and distinctions between things, and especially their\r\ncausal sequences. Rational knowledge of such things as mathematics,\r\nmechanics, chemistry, and biology, is now possible; and the\r\nacquisition of conceptions of this order form the next phase of\r\neducation. Later still, not till adolescence is well advanced, does\r\nthe mind awaken to a systematic interest in abstract human\r\nrelations\u0026mdash;moral relations, properly so called,\u0026mdash;to\r\nsociological ideas and to metaphysical abstractions.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis general order of sequence is followed traditionally of\r\ncourse in the schoolroom. It is foreign to my purpose to do more\r\nthan indicate that general psychological principle of the\r\nsuccessive order of awakening of the faculties on which the whole\r\nthing rests. I have spoken of it already, apropos of the\r\ntransitoriness of instincts. Just as many a youth has to go\r\npermanently without an adequate stock of conceptions of a certain\r\norder, because experiences of that order were not yielded at the\r\ntime when new curiosity was most acute, so it will conversely\r\nhappen that many another youth is spoiled for a certain subject of\r\nstudy (although he would have enjoyed it well if led into it at a\r\nlater age) through having had it thrust upon him so prematurely\r\nthat disgust was created, and the bloom quite taken off from future\r\ntrials. I think I have seen college students unfitted forever for\r\n\u0027philosophy\u0027 from having taken that study up a year too soon.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn all these later studies, verbal material is the vehicle by\r\nwhich the mind thinks. The abstract conceptions of physics and\r\nsociology may, it is true, be embodied in visual or other images of\r\nphenomena, but they need not be so; and the truth remains that,\r\nafter adolescence has begun, \"words, words, words,\" must constitute\r\na large part, and an always larger part as life advances, of what\r\nthe human being has to learn. This is so even in the natural\r\nsciences, so far as these are causal and rational, and not merely\r\nconfined to description. So I go back to what I said awhile ago\r\napropos of verbal memorizing. The more accurately words are\r\nlearned, the better, if only the teacher make sure that what they\r\nsignify is also understood. It is the failure of this latter\r\ncondition, in so much of the old-fashioned recitation, that has\r\ncaused that reaction against \u0027parrot-like reproduction\u0027 that we are\r\nso familiar with to-day. A friend of mine, visiting a school, was\r\nasked to examine a young class in geography. Glancing, at the book,\r\nshe said: \"Suppose you should dig a hole in the ground, hundreds of\r\nfeet deep, how should you find it at the bottom,\u0026mdash;warmer or\r\ncolder than on top?\" None of the class replying, the teacher said:\r\n\"I\u0027m sure they know, but I think you don\u0027t ask the question quite\r\nrightly. Let me try.\" So, taking the book, she asked: \"In what\r\ncondition is the interior of the globe?\" and received the immediate\r\nanswer from half the class at once: \"The interior of the globe is\r\nin a condition of \u003ci\u003eigneous fusion\u003c/i\u003e.\" Better exclusive\r\nobject-teaching than such verbal recitations as that; and yet\r\nverbal reproduction, intelligently connected with more objective\r\nwork, must always play a leading, and surely \u003ci\u003ethe\u003c/i\u003e leading,\r\npart in education. Our modern reformers, in their books, write too\r\nexclusively of the earliest years of the pupil. These lend\r\nthemselves better to explicit treatment; and I myself, in dwelling\r\nso much upon the native impulses, and object-teaching, and\r\nanecdotes, and all that, have paid my tribute to the line of least\r\nresistance in describing. Yet away back in childhood we find the\r\nbeginnings of purely intellectual curiosity, and the intelligence\r\nof abstract terms. The object-teaching is mainly to \u003ci\u003elaunch\u003c/i\u003e\r\nthe pupils, with some concrete conceptions of the facts concerned,\r\nupon the more abstract ideas.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo hear some authorities on teaching, however, you would suppose\r\nthat geography not only began, but ended with the school-yard and\r\nneighboring hill, that physics was one endless round of repeating\r\nthe same sort of tedious weighing and measuring operation: whereas\r\na very few examples are usually sufficient to set the imagination\r\nfree on genuine lines, and then what the mind craves is more rapid,\r\ngeneral, and abstract treatment. I heard a lady say that she had\r\ntaken her child to the kindergarten, \"but he is so bright that he\r\nsaw through it immediately.\" Too many school children \u0027see\u0027 as\r\nimmediately \u0027through\u0027 the namby-pamby attempts of the softer\r\npedagogy to lubricate things for them, and make them interesting.\r\nEven they can enjoy abstractions, provided they be of the proper\r\norder; and it is a poor compliment to their rational appetite to\r\nthink that anecdotes about little Tommies and little Jennies are\r\nthe only kind of things their minds can digest.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut here, as elsewhere, it is a matter of more or less; and, in\r\nthe last resort, the teacher\u0027s own tact is the only thing that can\r\nbring out the right effect. The great difficulty with abstractions\r\nis that of knowing just what meaning the pupil attaches to the\r\nterms he uses. The words may sound all right, but the meaning\r\nremains the child\u0027s own secret. So varied forms of words must be\r\ninsisted on, to bring the secret out. And a strange secret does it\r\noften prove. A relative of mine was trying to explain to a little\r\ngirl what was meant by \u0027the passive voice\u0027: \"Suppose that you kill\r\nme: you who do the killing are in the active voice, and I, who am\r\nkilled, am in the passive voice.\" \"But how can you speak if you\u0027re\r\nkilled?\" said the child. \"Oh, well, you may suppose that I am not\r\nyet quite dead!\" The next day the child was asked, in class, to\r\nexplain the passive voice, and said, \"It\u0027s the kind of voice you\r\nspeak with when you ain\u0027t quite dead.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn such a case as this the illustration ought to have been more\r\nvaried. Every one\u0027s memory will probably furnish examples of the\r\nfantastic meaning which their childhood attached to certain verbal\r\nstatements (in poetry often), and which their elders, not having\r\nany reason to suspect, never corrected. I remember being greatly\r\nmoved emotionally at the age of eight by the ballad of Lord Ullin\u0027s\r\nDaughter. Yet I thought that the staining of the heather by the\r\nblood was the evil chiefly dreaded, and that, when the boatman\r\nsaid,\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ccenter\u003e\"I\u0027ll row you o\u0027er the ferry.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nIt is not for your silver bright,\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nBut for your winsome lady,\"\u003c/center\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003ehe was to receive the lady for his pay. Similarly, I recently\r\nfound that one of my own children was reading (and accepting) a\r\nverse of Tennyson\u0027s In Memoriam as\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003ccenter\u003e\"Ring out the \u003ci\u003efood\u003c/i\u003e of rich and poor,\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1.5em;\"\u003eRing in \u003ci\u003eredness\u003c/i\u003e to all\r\nmankind,\"\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003c/center\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eand finding no inward difficulty.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe only safeguard against this sort of misconceiving is to\r\ninsist on varied statement, and to bring the child\u0027s conceptions,\r\nwherever it be possible, to some sort of practical test.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet us next pass to the subject of Apperception.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"XIV__APPERCEPTION\" id=\"XIV__APPERCEPTION\" /\u003eXIV.\r\nAPPERCEPTION\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u0027Apperception\u0027 is a word which cuts a great figure in the\r\npedagogics of the present day. Read, for example, this\r\nadvertisement of a certain text-book, which I take from an\r\neducational journal:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cdiv style=\"margin-left: 7em; margin-right: 7em;\"\u003e\r\n\u003ccenter\u003e\u003cb\u003eWHAT IS APPERCEPTION?\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/center\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor an explanation of Apperception see Blank\u0027s PSYCHOLOGY,\r\nVol. \u0026mdash;\u0026mdash; of the \u0026mdash;\u0026mdash; Education Series, just\r\npublished.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe difference between Perception and Apperception is explained\r\nfor the teacher in the preface to Blank\u0027s PSYCHOLOGY.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eMany teachers are inquiring, \"What is the meaning of\r\nApperception in educational psychology?\" Just the book for them is\r\nBlank\u0027s PSYCHOLOGY in which the idea was first expounded.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe most important idea in educational psychology is\r\nApperception. The teacher may find this expounded in Blank\u0027s\r\nPSYCHOLOGY. The idea of Apperception is making a revolution in\r\neducational methods in Germany. It is explained in Blank\u0027s\r\nPSYCHOLOGY, Vol. \u0026mdash;\u0026mdash; of the \u0026mdash;\u0026mdash; Education\r\nSeries, just published.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBlank\u0027s PSYCHOLOGY will be mailed prepaid to any address on\r\nreceipt of $1.00.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch an advertisement is in sober earnest a disgrace to all\r\nconcerned; and such talk as it indulges in is the sort of thing I\r\nhad in view when I said at our first meeting that the teachers were\r\nsuffering at the present day from a certain industrious\r\nmystification on the part of editors and publishers. Perhaps the\r\nword \u0027apperception\u0027 flourished in their eyes and ears as it\r\nnowadays often is, embodies as much of this mystification as any\r\nother single thing. The conscientious young teacher is led to\r\nbelieve that it contains a recondite and portentous secret, by\r\nlosing the true inwardness of which her whole career may be\r\nshattered. And yet, when she turns to the books and reads about it,\r\nit seems so trivial and commonplace a matter,\u0026mdash;meaning nothing\r\nmore than the manner in which we receive a thing into our\r\nminds,\u0026mdash;that she fears she must have missed the point through\r\nthe shallowness of her intelligence, and goes about thereafter\r\nafflicted with a sense either of uncertainty or of stupidity, and\r\nin each case remaining mortified at being so inadequate to her\r\nmission.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow apperception is an extremely useful word in pedagogics, and\r\noffers a convenient name for a process to which every teacher must\r\nfrequently refer. But it verily means nothing more than the act of\r\ntaking a thing into the mind. It corresponds to nothing peculiar or\r\nelementary in psychology, being only one of the innumerable results\r\nof the psychological process of association of ideas; and\r\npsychology itself can easily dispense with the word, useful as it\r\nmay be in pedagogics.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe gist of the matter is this: Every impression that comes in\r\nfrom without, be it a sentence which we hear, an object of vision,\r\nor an effluvium which assails our nose, no sooner enters our\r\nconsciousness than it is drafted off in some determinate direction\r\nor other, making connection with the other materials already there,\r\nand finally producing what we call our reaction. The particular\r\nconnections it strikes into are determined by our past experiences\r\nand the \u0027associations\u0027 of the present sort of impression with them.\r\nIf, for instance, you hear me call out A, B, C, it is ten to one\r\nthat you will react on the impression by inwardly or outwardly\r\narticulating D, E, F. The impression arouses its old associates:\r\nthey go out to meet it; it is received by them, recognized by the\r\nmind as \u0027the beginning of the alphabet.\u0027 It is the fate of every\r\nimpression thus to fall into a mind preoccupied with memories,\r\nideas, and interests, and by these it is taken in. Educated as we\r\nalready are, we never get an experience that remains for us\r\ncompletely nondescript: it always \u003ci\u003ereminds\u003c/i\u003e of something\r\nsimilar in quality, or of some context that might have surrounded\r\nit before, and which it now in some way suggests. This mental\r\nescort which the mind supplies is drawn, of course, from the mind\u0027s\r\nready-made stock. We \u003ci\u003econceive\u003c/i\u003e the impression in some\r\ndefinite way. We dispose of it according to our acquired\r\npossibilities, be they few or many, in the way of \u0027ideas.\u0027 This way\r\nof taking in the object is the process of apperception. The\r\nconceptions which meet and assimilate it are called by Herbart the\r\n\u0027apperceiving mass.\u0027 The apperceived impression is engulfed in\r\nthis, and the result is a new field of consciousness, of which one\r\npart (and often a very small part) comes from the outer world, and\r\nanother part (sometimes by far the largest) comes from the previous\r\ncontents of the mind.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI think that you see plainly enough now that the process of\r\napperception is what I called it a moment ago, a resultant of the\r\nassociation of ideas. The product is a sort of fusion of the new\r\nwith the old, in which it is often impossible to distinguish the\r\nshare of the two factors. For example, when we listen to a person\r\nspeaking or read a page of print, much of what we think we see or\r\nhear is supplied from our memory. We overlook misprints, imagining\r\nthe right letters, though we see the wrong ones; and how little we\r\nactually hear, when we listen to speech, we realize when we go to a\r\nforeign theatre; for there what troubles us is not so much that we\r\ncannot understand what the actors say as that we cannot hear their\r\nwords. The fact is that we hear quite as little under similar\r\nconditions at home, only our mind, being fuller of English verbal\r\nassociations, supplies the requisite material for comprehension\r\nupon a much slighter auditory hint.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn all the apperceptive operations of the mind, a certain\r\ngeneral law makes itself felt,\u0026mdash;the law of economy. In\r\nadmitting a new body of experience, we instinctively seek to\r\ndisturb as little as possible our pre-existing stock of ideas. We\r\nalways try to name a new experience in some way which will\r\nassimilate it to what we already know. We hate anything\r\n\u003ci\u003eabsolutely\u003c/i\u003e new, anything without any name, and for which a\r\nnew name must be forged. So we take the nearest name, even though\r\nit be inappropriate. A child will call snow, when he sees it for\r\nthe first time, sugar or white butterflies. The sail of a boat he\r\ncalls a curtain; an egg in its shell, seen for the first time, he\r\ncalls a pretty potato; an orange, a ball; a folding corkscrew, a\r\npair of bad scissors. Caspar Hauser called the first geese he saw\r\nhorses, and the Polynesians called Captain Cook\u0027s horses pigs. Mr.\r\nRooper has written a little book on apperception, to which he gives\r\nthe title of \"A Pot of Green Feathers,\" that being the name applied\r\nto a pot of ferns by a child who had never seen ferns before.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn later life this economical tendency to leave the old\r\nundisturbed leads to what we know as \u0027old fogyism.\u0027 A new idea or a\r\nfact which would entail extensive rearrangement of the previous\r\nsystem of beliefs is always ignored or extruded from the mind in\r\ncase it cannot be sophistically reinterpreted so as to tally\r\nharmoniously with the system. We have all conducted discussions\r\nwith middle-aged people, overpowered them with our reasons, forced\r\nthem to admit our contention, and a week later found them back as\r\nsecure and constant in their old opinion as if they had never\r\nconversed with us at all. We call them old fogies; but there are\r\nyoung fogies, too. Old fogyism begins at a younger age than we\r\nthink. I am almost afraid to say so, but I believe that in the\r\nmajority of human beings it begins at about twenty-five.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn some of the books we find the various forms of apperception\r\ncodified, and their subdivisions numbered and ticketed in tabular\r\nform in the way so delightful to the pedagogic eye. In one book\r\nwhich I remember reading there were sixteen different types of\r\napperception discriminated from each other. There was associative\r\napperception, subsumptive apperception, assimilative apperception,\r\nand others up to sixteen. It is needless to say that this is\r\nnothing but an exhibition of the crass artificiality which has\r\nalways haunted psychology, and which perpetuates itself by\r\nlingering along, especially in these works which are advertised as\r\n\u0027written for the use of teachers.\u0027 The flowing life of the mind is\r\nsorted into parcels suitable for presentation in the\r\nrecitation-room, and chopped up into supposed \u0027processes\u0027 with long\r\nGreek and Latin names, which in real life have no distinct\r\nexistence.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere is no reason, if we are classing the different types of\r\napperception, why we should stop at sixteen rather than sixteen\r\nhundred. There are as many types of apperception as there are\r\npossible ways in which an incoming experience may be reacted on by\r\nan individual mind. A little while ago, at Buffalo, I was the guest\r\nof a lady who, a fortnight before, had taken her seven-year-old boy\r\nfor the first time to Niagara Falls. The child silently glared at\r\nthe phenomenon until his mother, supposing him struck speechless by\r\nits sublimity, said, \"Well, my boy, what do you think of it?\" to\r\nwhich, \"Is that the kind of spray I spray my nose with?\" was the\r\nboy\u0027s only reply. That was his mode of apperceiving the spectacle.\r\nYou may claim this as a particular type, and call it by the Greek\r\nname of rhinotherapeutical apperception, if you like; and, if you\r\ndo, you will hardly be more trivial or artificial than are some of\r\nthe authors of the books.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eM. Perez, in one of his books on childhood, gives a good example\r\nof the different modes of apperception of the same phenomenon which\r\nare possible at different stages of individual experience. A\r\ndwelling-house took fire, and an infant in the family, witnessing\r\nthe conflagration from the arms of his nurse, standing outside,\r\nexpressed nothing but the liveliest delight at its brilliancy. But,\r\nwhen the bell of the fire engine was heard approaching, the child\r\nwas thrown by the sound into a paroxysm of fear, strange sounds\r\nbeing, as you know, very alarming to young children. In what\r\nopposite ways must the child\u0027s parents have apperceived the burning\r\nhouse and the engine respectively!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe self-same person, according to the line of thought he may be\r\nin, or to his emotional mood, will apperceive the same impression\r\nquite differently on different occasions. A medical or engineering\r\nexpert retained on one side of a case will not apperceive the facts\r\nin the same way as if the other side had retained him. When people\r\nare at loggerheads about the interpretation of a fact, it usually\r\nshows that they have too few heads of classification to apperceive\r\nby; for, as a general thing, the fact of such a dispute is enough\r\nto show that neither one of their rival interpretations is a\r\nperfect fit. Both sides deal with the matter by approximation,\r\nsqueezing it under the handiest or least disturbing conception:\r\nwhereas it would, nine times out of ten, be better to enlarge their\r\nstock of ideas or invent some altogether new title for the\r\nphenomenon.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThus, in biology, we used to have interminable discussion as to\r\nwhether certain single-celled organisms were animals or vegetables,\r\nuntil Haeckel introduced the new apperceptive name of Protista,\r\nwhich ended the disputes. In law courts no \u003ci\u003etertium quid\u003c/i\u003e is\r\nrecognized between insanity and sanity. If sane, a man is punished:\r\nif insane, acquitted; and it is seldom hard to find two experts who\r\nwill take opposite views of his case. All the while, nature is more\r\nsubtle than our doctors. Just as a room is neither dark nor light\r\nabsolutely, but might be dark for a watchmaker\u0027s uses, and yet\r\nlight enough to eat in or play in, so a man may be sane for some\r\npurposes and insane for others,\u0026mdash;sane enough to be left at\r\nlarge, yet not sane enough to take care of his financial affairs.\r\nThe word \u0027crank,\u0027 which became familiar at the time of Guiteau\u0027s\r\ntrial, fulfilled the need of a \u003ci\u003etertium quid\u003c/i\u003e. The foreign\r\nterms \u0027d\u0026eacute;s\u0026eacute;quilibr\u0026eacute;,\u0027 \u0027hereditary degenerate,\u0027\r\nand \u0027psychopathic\u0027 subject, have arisen in response to the same\r\nneed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe whole progress of our sciences goes on by the invention of\r\nnewly forged technical names whereby to designate the newly\r\nremarked aspects of phenomena,\u0026mdash;phenomena which could only be\r\nsqueezed with violence into the pigeonholes of the earlier stock of\r\nconceptions. As time goes on, our vocabulary becomes thus ever more\r\nand more voluminous, having to keep up with the ever-growing\r\nmultitude of our stock of apperceiving ideas.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn this gradual process of interaction between the new and the\r\nold, not only is the new modified and determined by the particular\r\nsort of old which apperceives it, but the apperceiving mass, the\r\nold itself, is modified by the particular kind of new which it\r\nassimilates. Thus, to take the stock German example of the child\r\nbrought up in a house where there are no tables but square ones,\r\n\u0027table\u0027 means for him a thing in which square corners are\r\nessential. But, if he goes to a house where there are round tables\r\nand still calls them tables, his apperceiving notion \u0027table\u0027\r\nacquires immediately a wider inward content. In this way, our\r\nconceptions are constantly dropping characters once supposed\r\nessential, and including others once supposed inadmissible. The\r\nextension of the notion \u0027beast\u0027 to porpoises and whales, of the\r\nnotion \u0027organism\u0027 to society, are familiar examples of what I\r\nmean.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut be our conceptions adequate or inadequate, and be our stock\r\nof them large or small, they are all we have to work with. If an\r\neducated man is, as I said, a group of organized tendencies to\r\nconduct, what prompts the conduct is in every case the man\u0027s\r\nconception of the way in which to name and classify the actual\r\nemergency. The more adequate the stock of ideas, the more \u0027able\u0027 is\r\nthe man, the more uniformly appropriate is his behavior likely to\r\nbe. When later we take up the subject of the will, we shall see\r\nthat the essential preliminary to every decision is the finding of\r\nthe right \u003ci\u003enames\u003c/i\u003e under which to class the proposed\r\nalternatives of conduct. He who has few names is in so far forth an\r\nincompetent deliberator. The names\u0026mdash;and each name stands for a\r\nconception or idea\u0026mdash;are our instruments for handling our\r\nproblems and solving our dilemmas. Now, when we think of this, we\r\nare too apt to forget an important fact, which is that in most\r\nhuman beings the stock of names and concepts is mostly acquired\r\nduring the years of adolescence and the earliest years of adult\r\nlife. I probably shocked you a moment ago by saying that most men\r\nbegin to be old fogies at the age of twenty-five. It is true that a\r\ngrown-up adult keeps gaining well into middle age a great knowledge\r\nof details, and a great acquaintance with individual cases\r\nconnected with his profession or business life. In this sense, his\r\nconceptions increase during a very long period; for his knowledge\r\ngrows more extensive and minute. But the larger categories of\r\nconception, the sorts of thing, and wider classes of relation\r\nbetween things, of which we take cognizance, are all got into the\r\nmind at a comparatively youthful date. Few men ever do acquaint\r\nthemselves with the principles of a new science after even\r\ntwenty-five. If you do not study political economy in college, it\r\nis a thousand to one that its main conceptions will remain unknown\r\nto you through life. Similarly with biology, similarly with\r\nelectricity. What percentage of persons now fifty years old have\r\nany definite conception whatever of a dynamo, or how the\r\ntrolley-cars are made to run? Surely, a small fraction of one per\r\ncent. But the boys in colleges are all acquiring these\r\nconceptions.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere is a sense of infinite potentiality in us all, when young,\r\nwhich makes some of us draw up lists of books we intend to read\r\nhereafter, and makes most of us think that we can easily acquaint\r\nourselves with all sorts of things which we are now neglecting by\r\nstudying them out hereafter in the intervals of leisure of our\r\nbusiness lives. Such good intentions are hardly ever carried out.\r\nThe conceptions acquired before thirty remain usually the only ones\r\nwe ever gain. Such exceptional cases of perpetually self-renovating\r\nyouth as Mr. Gladstone\u0027s only prove, by the admiration they awaken,\r\nthe universality of the rule. And it may well solemnize a teacher,\r\nand confirm in him a healthy sense of the importance of his\r\nmission, to feel how exclusively dependent upon his present\r\nministrations in the way of imparting conceptions the pupil\u0027s\r\nfuture life is probably bound to be.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"XV__THE_WILL\" id=\"XV__THE_WILL\" /\u003eXV. THE WILL\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSince mentality terminates naturally in outward conduct, the\r\nfinal chapter in psychology has to be the chapter on the will. But\r\nthe word \u0027will\u0027 can be used in a broader and in a narrower sense.\r\nIn the broader sense, it designates our entire capacity for\r\nimpulsive and active life, including our instinctive reactions and\r\nthose forms of behavior that have become secondarily automatic and\r\nsemi-unconscious through frequent repetition. In the narrower\r\nsense, acts of will are such acts only as cannot be inattentively\r\nperformed. A distinct idea of what they are, and a deliberate\r\n\u003ci\u003efiat\u003c/i\u003e on the mind\u0027s part, must precede their execution.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch acts are often characterized by hesitation, and accompanied\r\nby a feeling, altogether peculiar, of resolve, a feeling which may\r\nor may not carry with it a further feeling of effort. In my earlier\r\ntalks, I said so much of our impulsive tendencies that I will\r\nrestrict myself in what follows to volition in this narrower sense\r\nof the term.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAll our deeds were considered by the early psychologists to be\r\ndue to a peculiar faculty called the will, without whose fiat\r\naction could not occur. Thoughts and impressions, being\r\nintrinsically inactive, were supposed to produce conduct only\r\nthrough the intermediation of this superior agent. Until they\r\ntwitched its coat-tails, so to speak, no outward behavior could\r\noccur. This doctrine was long ago exploded by the discovery of the\r\nphenomena of reflex action, in which sensible impressions, as you\r\nknow, produce movement immediately and of themselves. The doctrine\r\nmay also be considered exploded as far as ideas go.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe fact is that there is no sort of consciousness whatever, be\r\nit sensation, feeling, or idea, which does not directly and of\r\nitself tend to discharge into some motor effect. The motor effect\r\nneed not always be an outward stroke of behavior. It may be only an\r\nalteration of the heart-beats or breathing, or a modification in\r\nthe distribution of blood, such as blushing or turning pale; or\r\nelse a secretion of tears, or what not. But, in any case, it is\r\nthere in some shape when any consciousness is there; and a belief\r\nas fundamental as any in modern psychology is the belief at last\r\nattained that conscious processes of any sort, conscious processes\r\nmerely as such, \u003ci\u003emust\u003c/i\u003e pass over into motion, open or\r\nconcealed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe least complicated case of this tendency is the case of a\r\nmind possessed by only a single idea. If that idea be of an object\r\nconnected with a native impulse, the impulse will immediately\r\nproceed to discharge. If it be the idea of a movement, the movement\r\nwill occur. Such a case of action from a single idea has been\r\ndistinguished from more complex cases by the name of \u0027ideo-motor\u0027\r\naction, meaning action without express decision or effort. Most of\r\nthe habitual actions to which we are trained are of this ideo-motor\r\nsort. We perceive, for instance, that the door is open, and we rise\r\nand shut it; we perceive some raisins in a dish before us, and\r\nextend our hand and carry one of them to our mouth without\r\ninterrupting the conversation; or, when lying in bed, we suddenly\r\nthink that we shall be late for breakfast, and instantly we get up\r\nwith no particular exertion or resolve. All the ingrained\r\nprocedures by which life is carried on\u0026mdash;the manners and\r\ncustoms, dressing and undressing, acts of salutation,\r\netc.\u0026mdash;are executed in this semi-automatic way unhesitatingly\r\nand efficiently, the very outermost margin of consciousness seeming\r\nto be concerned in them, while the focus may be occupied with\r\nwidely different things.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut now turn to a more complicated case. Suppose two thoughts to\r\nbe in the mind together, of which one, A, taken alone, would\r\ndischarge itself in a certain action, but of which the other, B,\r\nsuggests an action of a different sort, or a consequence of the\r\nfirst action calculated to make us shrink. The psychologists now\r\nsay that the second idea, B, will probably arrest or \u003ci\u003einhibit\u003c/i\u003e\r\nthe motor effects of the first idea, A. One word, then, about\r\n\u0027inhibition\u0027 in general, to make this particular case more\r\nclear.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne of the most interesting discoveries of physiology was the\r\ndiscovery, made simultaneously in France and Germany fifty years\r\nago, that nerve currents do not only start muscles into action, but\r\nmay check action already going on or keep it from occurring as it\r\notherwise might. \u003ci\u003eNerves of arrest\u003c/i\u003e were thus distinguished\r\nalongside of motor nerves. The pneumogastric nerve, for example, if\r\nstimulated, arrests the movements of the heart: the splanchnic\r\nnerve arrests those of the intestines, if already begun. But it\r\nsoon appeared that this was too narrow a way of looking at the\r\nmatter, and that arrest is not so much the specific function of\r\ncertain nerves as a general function which any part of the nervous\r\nsystem may exert upon other parts under the appropriate conditions.\r\nThe higher centres, for example, seem to exert a constant\r\ninhibitive influence on the excitability of those below. The\r\nreflexes of an animal with its hemispheres wholly or in part\r\nremoved become exaggerated. You all know that common reflex in\r\ndogs, whereby, if you scratch the animal\u0027s side, the corresponding\r\nhind leg will begin to make scratching movements, usually in the\r\nair. Now in dogs with mutilated hemispheres this scratching reflex\r\nis so incessant that, as Goltz first described them, the hair gets\r\nall worn off their sides. In idiots, the functions of the\r\nhemispheres being largely in abeyance, the lower impulses, not\r\ninhibited, as they would be in normal human beings, often express\r\nthemselves in most odious ways. You know also how any higher\r\nemotional tendency will quench a lower one. Fear arrests appetite,\r\nmaternal love annuls fear, respect checks sensuality, and the like;\r\nand in the more subtile manifestations of the moral life, whenever\r\nan ideal stirring is suddenly quickened into intensity, it is as if\r\nthe whole scale of values of our motives changed its equilibrium.\r\nThe force of old temptations vanishes, and what a moment ago was\r\nimpossible is now not only possible, but easy, because of their\r\ninhibition. This has been well called the \u0027expulsive power of the\r\nhigher emotion.\u0027\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is easy to apply this notion of inhibition to the case of our\r\nideational processes. I am lying in bed, for example, and think it\r\nis time to get up; but alongside of this thought there is present\r\nto my mind a realization of the extreme coldness of the morning and\r\nthe pleasantness of the warm bed. In such a situation the motor\r\nconsequences of the first idea are blocked; and I may remain for\r\nhalf an hour or more with the two ideas oscillating before me in a\r\nkind of deadlock, which is what we call the state of hesitation or\r\ndeliberation. In a case like this the deliberation can be resolved\r\nand the decision reached in either of two ways:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e(1) I may forget for a moment the thermometric conditions, and\r\nthen the idea of getting up will immediately discharge into act: I\r\nshall suddenly find that I have got up\u0026mdash;or\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e(2) Still mindful of the freezing temperature, the thought of\r\nthe duty of rising may become so pungent that it determines action\r\nin spite of inhibition. In the latter case, I have a sense of\r\nenergetic moral effort, and consider that I have done a virtuous\r\nact.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAll cases of wilful action properly so called, of choice after\r\nhesitation and deliberation, may be conceived after one of these\r\nlatter patterns. So you see that volition, in the narrower sense,\r\ntakes place only when there are a number of conflicting systems of\r\nideas, and depends on our having a complex field of consciousness.\r\nThe interesting thing to note is the extreme delicacy of the\r\ninhibitive machinery. A strong and urgent motor idea in the focus\r\nmay be neutralized and made inoperative by the presence of the very\r\nfaintest contradictory idea in the margin. For instance, I hold out\r\nmy forefinger, and with closed eyes try to realize as vividly as\r\npossible that I hold a revolver in my hand and am pulling the\r\ntrigger. I can even now fairly feel my finger quivering with the\r\ntendency to contract; and, if it were hitched to a recording\r\napparatus, it would certainly betray its state of tension by\r\nregistering incipient movements. Yet it does not actually crook,\r\nand the movement of pulling the trigger is not performed. Why\r\nnot?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSimply because, all concentrated though I am upon the idea of\r\nthe movement, I nevertheless also realize the total conditions of\r\nthe experiment, and in the back of my mind, so to speak, or in its\r\nfringe and margin, have the simultaneous idea that the movement is\r\nnot to take place. The mere presence of that marginal intention,\r\nwithout effort, urgency, or emphasis, or any special reinforcement\r\nfrom my attention, suffices to the inhibitive effect.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd this is why so few of the ideas that flit through our minds\r\ndo, in point of fact, produce their motor consequences. Life would\r\nbe a curse and a care for us if every fleeting fancy were to do so.\r\nAbstractly, the law of ideo-motor action is true; but in the\r\nconcrete our fields of consciousness are always so complex that the\r\ninhibiting margin keeps the centre inoperative most of the time. In\r\nall this, you see, I speak as if ideas by their mere presence or\r\nabsence determined behavior, and as if between the ideas themselves\r\non the one hand and the conduct on the other there were no room for\r\nany third intermediate principle of activity, like that called \u0027the\r\nwill.\u0027\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf you are struck by the materialistic or fatalistic doctrines\r\nwhich seem to follow this conception, I beg you to suspend your\r\njudgment for a moment, as I shall soon have something more to say\r\nabout the matter. But, meanwhile yielding one\u0027s self to the\r\nmechanical conception of the psychophysical organism, nothing is\r\neasier than to indulge in a picture of the fatalistic character of\r\nhuman life. Man\u0027s conduct appears as the mere resultant of all his\r\nvarious impulsions and inhibitions. One object, by its presence,\r\nmakes us act: another object checks our action. Feelings aroused\r\nand ideas suggested by objects sway us one way and another:\r\nemotions complicate the game by their mutual inhibitive effects,\r\nthe higher abolishing the lower or perhaps being itself swept away.\r\nThe life in all this becomes prudential and moral; but the\r\npsychologic agents in the drama may be described, you see, as\r\nnothing but the \u0027ideas\u0027 themselves,\u0026mdash;ideas for the whole\r\nsystem of which what we call the \u0027soul\u0027 or character\u0027 or \u0027will\u0027 of\r\nthe person is nothing but a collective name. As Hume said, the\r\nideas are themselves the actors, the stage, the theatre, the\r\nspectators, and the play. This is the so-called \u0027associationist\u0027\r\npsychology, brought down to its radical expression: it is useless\r\nto ignore its power as a conception. Like all conceptions, when\r\nthey become clear and lively enough, this conception has a strong\r\ntendency to impose itself upon belief; and psychologists trained on\r\nbiological lines usually adopt it as the last word of science on\r\nthe subject. No one can have an adequate notion of modern\r\npsychological theory unless he has at some time apprehended this\r\nview in the full force of its simplicity.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet us humor it for a while, for it has advantages in the way of\r\nexposition.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eVoluntary action, then, is at all times a resultant of the\r\ncompounding of our impulsions with our inhibitions.\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom this it immediately follows that there will be two types of\r\nwill, in one of which impulsions will predominate, in the other\r\ninhibitions. We may speak of them, if you like, as the precipitate\r\nand the obstructed will, respectively. When fully pronounced, they\r\nare familiar to everybody. The extreme example of the precipitate\r\nwill is the maniac: his ideas discharge into action so rapidly, his\r\nassociative processes are so extravagantly lively, that inhibitions\r\nhave no time to arrive, and he says and does whatever pops into his\r\nhead without a moment of hesitation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eCertain melancholiacs furnish the extreme example of the\r\nover-inhibited type. Their minds are cramped in a fixed emotion of\r\nfear or helplessness, their ideas confined to the one thought that\r\nfor them life is impossible. So they show a condition of perfect\r\n\u0027abulia,\u0027 or inability to will or act. They cannot change their\r\nposture or speech or execute the simplest command.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe different races of men show different temperaments in this\r\nregard. The Southern races are commonly accounted the more\r\nimpulsive and precipitate: the English race, especially our New\r\nEngland branch of it, is supposed to be all sicklied over with\r\nrepressive forms of self-consciousness, and condemned to express\r\nitself through a jungle of scruples and checks.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe highest form of character, however, abstractly considered,\r\nmust be full of scruples and inhibitions. But action, in such a\r\ncharacter, far from being paralyzed, will succeed in energetically\r\nkeeping on its way, sometimes overpowering the resistances,\r\nsometimes steering along the line where they lie thinnest.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eJust as our extensor muscles act most truly when a simultaneous\r\ncontraction of the flexors guides and steadies them; so the mind of\r\nhim whose fields of consciousness are complex, and who, with the\r\nreasons for the action, sees the reasons against it, and yet,\r\ninstead of being palsied, acts in the way that takes the whole\r\nfield into consideration,\u0026mdash;so, I say, is such a mind the ideal\r\nsort of mind that we should seek to reproduce in our pupils. Purely\r\nimpulsive action, or action that proceeds to extremities regardless\r\nof consequences, on the other hand, is the easiest action in the\r\nworld, and the lowest in type. Any one can show energy, when made\r\nquite reckless. An Oriental despot requires but little ability: as\r\nlong as he lives, he succeeds, for he has absolutely his own way;\r\nand, when the world can no longer endure the horror of him, he is\r\nassassinated. But not to proceed immediately to extremities, to be\r\nstill able to act energetically under an array of\r\ninhibitions,\u0026mdash;that indeed is rare and difficult. Cavour, when\r\nurged to proclaim martial law in 1859, refused to do so, saying:\r\n\"Any one can govern in that way. I will be constitutional.\" Your\r\nparliamentary rulers, your Lincoln, your Gladstone, are the\r\nstrongest type of man, because they accomplish results under the\r\nmost intricate possible conditions. We think of Napoleon Bonaparte\r\nas a colossal monster of will-power, and truly enough he was so.\r\nBut, from the point of view of the psychological machinery, it\r\nwould be hard to say whether he or Gladstone was the larger\r\nvolitional quantity; for Napoleon disregarded all the usual\r\ninhibitions, and Gladstone, passionate as he was, scrupulously\r\nconsidered them in his statesmanship.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA familiar example of the paralyzing power of scruples is the\r\ninhibitive effect of conscientiousness upon conversation. Nowhere\r\ndoes conversation seem to have flourished as brilliantly as in\r\nFrance during the last century. But, if we read old French memoirs,\r\nwe see how many brakes of scrupulosity which tie our tongues to-day\r\nwere then removed. Where mendacity, treachery, obscenity, and\r\nmalignity find unhampered expression, talk can be brilliant indeed.\r\nBut its flame waxes dim where the mind is stitched all over with\r\nconscientious fear of violating the moral and social\r\nproprieties.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe teacher often is confronted in the schoolroom with an\r\nabnormal type of will, which we may call the \u0027balky will.\u0027 Certain\r\nchildren, if they do not succeed in doing a thing immediately,\r\nremain completely inhibited in regard to it: it becomes literally\r\nimpossible for them to understand it if it be an intellectual\r\nproblem, or to do it if it be an outward operation, as long as this\r\nparticular inhibited condition lasts. Such children are usually\r\ntreated as sinful, and are punished; or else the teacher pits his\r\nor her will against the child\u0027s will, considering that the latter\r\nmust be \u0027broken.\u0027 \"Break your child\u0027s will, in order that it may\r\nnot perish,\" wrote John Wesley. \"Break its will as soon as it can\r\nspeak plainly\u0026mdash;or even before it can speak at all. It should\r\nbe forced to do as it is told, even if you have to whip it ten\r\ntimes running. Break its will, in order that its soul may live.\"\r\nSuch will-breaking is always a scene with a great deal of nervous\r\nwear and tear on both sides, a bad state of feeling left behind it,\r\nand the victory not always with the would-be will-breaker.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen a situation of the kind is once fairly developed, and the\r\nchild is all tense and excited inwardly, nineteen times out of\r\ntwenty it is best for the teacher to apperceive the case as one of\r\nneural pathology rather than as one of moral culpability. So long\r\nas the inhibiting sense of impossibility remains in the child\u0027s\r\nmind, he will continue unable to get beyond the obstacle. The aim\r\nof the teacher should then be to make him simply forget. Drop the\r\nsubject for the time, divert the mind to something else: then,\r\nleading the pupil back by some circuitous line of association,\r\nspring it on him again before he has time to recognize it, and as\r\nlikely as not he will go over it now without any difficulty. It is\r\nin no other way that we overcome balkiness in a horse: we divert\r\nhis attention, do something to his nose or ear, lead him round in a\r\ncircle, and thus get him over a place where flogging would only\r\nhave made him more invincible. A tactful teacher will never let\r\nthese strained situations come up at all.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eYou perceive now, my friends, what your general or abstract duty\r\nis as teachers. Although you have to generate in your pupils a\r\nlarge stock of ideas, any one of which may be inhibitory, yet you\r\nmust also see to it that no habitual hesitancy or paralysis of the\r\nwill ensues, and that the pupil still retains his power of vigorous\r\naction. Psychology can state your problem in these terms, but you\r\nsee how impotent she is to furnish the elements of its practical\r\nsolution. When all is said and done, and your best efforts are\r\nmade, it will probably remain true that the result will depend more\r\non a certain native tone or temper in the pupil\u0027s psychological\r\nconstitution than on anything else. Some persons appear to have a\r\nnaturally poor focalization of the field of consciousness; and in\r\nsuch persons actions hang slack, and inhibitions seem to exert\r\npeculiarly easy sway.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut let us now close in a little more closely on this matter of\r\nthe education of the will. Your task is to build up a\r\n\u003ci\u003echaracter\u003c/i\u003e in your pupils; and a character, as I have so\r\noften said, consists in an organized set of habits of reaction. Now\r\nof what do such habits of reaction themselves consist? They consist\r\nof tendencies to act characteristically when certain ideas possess\r\nus, and to refrain characteristically when possessed by other\r\nideas.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOur volitional habits depend, then, first, on what the stock of\r\nideas is which we have; and, second, on the habitual coupling of\r\nthe several ideas with action or inaction respectively. How is it\r\nwhen an alternative is presented to you for choice, and you are\r\nuncertain what you ought to do? You first hesitate, and then you\r\ndeliberate. And in what does your deliberation consist? It consists\r\nin trying to apperceive the ease successively by a number of\r\ndifferent ideas, which seem to fit it more or less, until at last\r\nyou hit on one which seems to fit it exactly. If that be an idea\r\nwhich is a customary forerunner of action in you, which enters into\r\none of your maxims of positive behavior, your hesitation ceases,\r\nand you act immediately. If, on the other hand, it be an idea which\r\ncarries inaction as its habitual result, if it ally itself with\r\n\u003ci\u003eprohibition\u003c/i\u003e, then you unhesitatingly refrain. The problem\r\nis, you see, to find the right idea or conception for the case.\r\nThis search for the right conception may take days or weeks.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI spoke as if the action were easy when the conception once is\r\nfound. Often it is so, but it may be otherwise; and, when it is\r\notherwise, we find ourselves at the very centre of a moral\r\nsituation, into which I should now like you to look with me a\r\nlittle nearer.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe proper conception, the true head of classification, may be\r\nhard to attain; or it may be one with which we have contracted no\r\nsettled habits of action. Or, again, the action to which it would\r\nprompt may be dangerous and difficult; or else inaction may appear\r\ndeadly cold and negative when our impulsive feeling is hot. In\r\neither of these latter cases it is hard to hold the right idea\r\nsteadily enough before the attention to let it exert its adequate\r\neffects. Whether it be stimulative or inhibitive, it is \u003ci\u003etoo\r\nreasonable\u003c/i\u003e for us; and the more instinctive passional\r\npropensity then tends to extrude it from our consideration. We shy\r\naway from the thought of it. It twinkles and goes out the moment it\r\nappears in the margin of our consciousness; and we need a resolute\r\neffort of voluntary attention to drag it into the focus of the\r\nfield, and to keep it there long enough for its associative and\r\nmotor effects to be exerted. Every one knows only too well how the\r\nmind flinches from looking at considerations hostile to the\r\nreigning mood of feeling.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOnce brought, however, in this way to the centre of the field of\r\nconsciousness, and held there, the reasonable idea will exert these\r\neffects inevitably; for the laws of connection between our\r\nconsciousness and our nervous system provide for the action then\r\ntaking place. Our moral effort, properly so called, terminates in\r\nour holding fast to the appropriate idea.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf, then, you are asked, \"\u003ci\u003eIn what does a moral act\r\nconsist\u003c/i\u003e when reduced to its simplest and most elementary form?\"\r\nyou can make only one reply. You can say that \u003ci\u003eit consists in the\r\neffort of attention by which we hold fast to an idea\u003c/i\u003e which but\r\nfor that effort of attention would be driven out of the mind by the\r\nother psychological tendencies that are there. \u003ci\u003eTo think\u003c/i\u003e, in\r\nshort, is the secret of will, just as it is the secret of\r\nmemory.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis comes out very clearly in the kind of excuse which we most\r\nfrequently hear from persons who find themselves confronted by the\r\nsinfulness or harmfulness of some part of their behavior. \"I never\r\n\u003ci\u003ethought\u003c/i\u003e,\" they say. \"I never \u003ci\u003ethought\u003c/i\u003e how mean the\r\naction was, I never \u003ci\u003ethought\u003c/i\u003e of these abominable\r\nconsequences.\" And what do we retort when they say this? We say:\r\n\"Why \u003ci\u003edidn\u0027t\u003c/i\u003e you think? What were you there for but to\r\nthink?\" And we read them a moral lecture on their\r\nirreflectiveness.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe hackneyed example of moral deliberation is the case of an\r\nhabitual drunkard under temptation. He has made a resolve to\r\nreform, but he is now solicited again by the bottle. His moral\r\ntriumph or failure literally consists in his finding the right\r\n\u003ci\u003ename\u003c/i\u003e for the case. If he says that it is a case of not\r\nwasting good liquor already poured out, or a case of not being\r\nchurlish and unsociable when in the midst of friends, or a case of\r\nlearning something at last about a brand of whiskey which he never\r\nmet before, or a case of celebrating a public holiday, or a case of\r\nstimulating himself to a more energetic resolve in favor of\r\nabstinence than any he has ever yet made, then he is lost. His\r\nchoice of the wrong name seals his doom. But if, in spite of all\r\nthe plausible good names with which his thirsty fancy so copiously\r\nfurnishes him, he unwaveringly clings to the truer bad name, and\r\napperceives the case as that of \"being a drunkard, being a\r\ndrunkard, being a drunkard,\" his feet are planted on the road to\r\nsalvation. He saves himself by thinking rightly.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThus are your pupils to be saved: first, by the stock of ideas\r\nwith which you furnish them; second, by the amount of voluntary\r\nattention that they can exert in holding to the right ones, however\r\nunpalatable; and, third, by the several habits of acting definitely\r\non these latter to which they have been successfully trained.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn all this the power of voluntarily attending is the point of\r\nthe whole procedure. Just as a balance turns on its knife-edges, so\r\non it our moral destiny turns. You remember that, when we were\r\ntalking of the subject of attention, we discovered how much more\r\nintermittent and brief our acts of voluntary attention are than is\r\ncommonly supposed. If they were all summed together, the time that\r\nthey occupy would cover an almost incredibly small portion of our\r\nlives. But I also said, you will remember, that their brevity was\r\nnot in proportion to their significance, and that I should return\r\nto the subject again. So I return to it now. It is not the mere\r\nsize of a thing which, constitutes its importance: it is its\r\nposition in the organism to which it belongs. Our acts of voluntary\r\nattention, brief and fitful as they are, are nevertheless momentous\r\nand critical, determining us, as they do, to higher or lower\r\ndestinies. The exercise of voluntary attention in the schoolroom\r\nmust therefore be counted one of the most important points of\r\ntraining that take place there; and the first-rate teacher, by the\r\nkeenness of the remoter interests which he is able to awaken, will\r\nprovide abundant opportunities for its occurrence. I hope that you\r\nappreciate this now without any further explanation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI have been accused of holding up before you, in the course of\r\nthese talks, a mechanical and even a materialistic view of the\r\nmind. I have called it an organism and a machine. I have spoken of\r\nits reaction on the environment as the essential thing about it;\r\nand I have referred this, either openly or implicitly, to the\r\nconstruction of the nervous system. I have, in consequence,\r\nreceived notes from some of you, begging me to be more explicit on\r\nthis point; and to let you know frankly whether I am a complete\r\nmaterialist, or not.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow in these lectures I wish to be strictly practical and\r\nuseful, and to keep free from all speculative complications.\r\nNevertheless, I do not wish to leave any ambiguity about my own\r\nposition; and I will therefore say, in order to avoid all\r\nmisunderstanding, that in no sense do I count myself a materialist.\r\nI cannot see how such a thing as our consciousness can possibly be\r\n\u003ci\u003eproduced\u003c/i\u003e by a nervous machinery, though I can perfectly well\r\nsee how, if \u0027ideas\u0027 do accompany the workings of the machinery, the\r\n\u003ci\u003eorder\u003c/i\u003e of the ideas might very well follow exactly the\r\n\u003ci\u003eorder\u003c/i\u003e of the machine\u0027s operations. Our habitual associations\r\nof ideas, trains of thought, and sequences of action, might thus be\r\nconsequences of the succession of currents in our nervous systems.\r\nAnd the possible stock of ideas which a man\u0027s free spirit would\r\nhave to choose from might depend exclusively on the native and\r\nacquired powers of his brain. If this were all, we might indeed\r\nadopt the fatalist conception which I sketched for you but a short\r\nwhile ago. Our ideas would be determined by brain currents, and\r\nthese by purely mechanical laws.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut, after what we have just seen,\u0026mdash;namely, the part played\r\nby voluntary attention in volition,\u0026mdash;a belief in free will and\r\npurely spiritual causation is still open to us. The duration and\r\namount of this attention \u003ci\u003eseem\u003c/i\u003e within certain limits\r\nindeterminate. We \u003ci\u003efeel\u003c/i\u003e as if we could make it really more or\r\nless, and as if our free action in this regard were a genuine\r\ncritical point in nature,\u0026mdash;a point on which our destiny and\r\nthat of others might hinge. The whole question of free will\r\nconcentrates itself, then, at this same small point: \"Is or is not\r\nthe appearance of indetermination at this point an illusion?\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is plain that such a question can be decided only by general\r\nanalogies, and not by accurate observations. The free-willist\r\nbelieves the appearance to be a reality: the determinist believes\r\nthat it is an illusion. I myself hold with the\r\nfree-willists,\u0026mdash;not because I cannot conceive the fatalist\r\ntheory clearly, or because I fail to understand its plausibility,\r\nbut simply because, if free will \u003ci\u003ewere\u003c/i\u003e true, it would be\r\nabsurd to have the belief in it fatally forced on our acceptance.\r\nConsidering the inner fitness of things, one would rather think\r\nthat the very first act of a will endowed with freedom should be to\r\nsustain the belief in the freedom itself. I accordingly believe\r\nfreely in my freedom; I do so with the best of scientific\r\nconsciences, knowing that the predetermination of the amount of my\r\neffort of attention can never receive objective proof, and hoping\r\nthat, whether you follow my example in this respect or not, it will\r\nat least make you see that such psychological and psychophysical\r\ntheories as I hold do not necessarily force a man to become a\r\nfatalist or a materialist.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet me say one more final word now about the will, and therewith\r\nconclude both that important subject and these lectures.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere are two types of will. There are also two types of\r\ninhibition. We may call them inhibition by repression or by\r\nnegation, and inhibition by substitution, respectively. The\r\ndifference between them is that, in the case of inhibition by\r\nrepression, both the inhibited idea and the inhibiting idea, the\r\nimpulsive idea and the idea that negates it, remain along with each\r\nother in consciousness, producing a certain inward strain or\r\ntension there: whereas, in inhibition by substitution, the\r\ninhibiting idea supersedes altogether the idea which it inhibits,\r\nand the latter quickly vanishes from the field.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor instance, your pupils are wandering in mind, are listening\r\nto a sound outside the window, which presently grows interesting\r\nenough to claim all their attention. You can call the latter back\r\nagain by bellowing at them not to listen to those sounds, but to\r\nkeep their minds on their books or on what you are saying. And, by\r\nthus keeping them conscious that your eye is sternly on them, you\r\nmay produce a good effect. But it will be a wasteful effect and an\r\ninferior effect; for the moment you relax your supervision the\r\nattractive disturbance, always there soliciting their curiosity,\r\nwill overpower them, and they will be just as they were before:\r\nwhereas, if, without saying anything about the street disturbances,\r\nyou open a counter-attraction by starting some very interesting\r\ntalk or demonstration yourself, they will altogether forget the\r\ndistracting incident, and without any effort follow you along.\r\nThere are many interests that can never be inhibited by the way of\r\nnegation. To a man in love, for example, it is literally\r\nimpossible, by any effort of will, to annul his passion. But let\r\n\u0027some new planet swim into his ken,\u0027 and the former idol will\r\nimmediately cease to engross his mind.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is clear that in general we ought, whenever we can, to employ\r\nthe method of inhibition by substitution. He whose life is based\r\nupon the word \u0027no,\u0027 who tells the truth because a lie is wicked,\r\nand who has constantly to grapple with his envious and cowardly and\r\nmean propensities, is in an inferior situation in every respect to\r\nwhat he would be if the love of truth and magnanimity positively\r\npossessed him from the outset, and he felt no inferior temptations.\r\nYour born gentleman is certainly, for this world\u0027s purposes, a more\r\nvaluable being than your \"Crump, with his grunting resistance to\r\nhis native devils,\" even though in God\u0027s sight the latter may, as\r\nthe Catholic theologians say, be rolling up great stores of\r\n\u0027merit.\u0027\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSpinoza long ago wrote in his Ethics that anything that a man\r\ncan avoid under the notion that it is bad he may also avoid under\r\nthe notion that something else is good. He who habitually acts\r\n\u003ci\u003esub specie mali\u003c/i\u003e, under the negative notion, the notion of\r\nthe bad, is called a slave by Spinoza. To him who acts habitually\r\nunder the notion of good he gives the name of freeman. See to it\r\nnow, I beg you, that you make freemen of your pupils by habituating\r\nthem to act, whenever possible, under the notion of a good. Get\r\nthem habitually to tell the truth, not so much through showing them\r\nthe wickedness of lying as by arousing their enthusiasm for honor\r\nand veracity. Wean them from their native cruelty by imparting to\r\nthem some of your own positive sympathy with an animal\u0027s inner\r\nsprings of joy. And, in the lessons which you may be legally\r\nobliged to conduct upon the bad effects of alcohol, lay less stress\r\nthan the books do on the drunkard\u0027s stomach, kidneys, nerves, and\r\nsocial miseries, and more on the blessings of having an organism\r\nkept in lifelong possession of its full youthful elasticity by a\r\nsweet, sound blood, to which stimulants and narcotics are unknown,\r\nand to which the morning sun and air and dew will daily come as\r\nsufficiently powerful intoxicants.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI have now ended these talks. If to some of you the things I\r\nhave said seem obvious or trivial, it is possible that they may\r\nappear less so when, in the course of a year or two, you find\r\nyourselves noticing and apperceiving events in the schoolroom a\r\nlittle differently, in consequence of some of the conceptions I\r\nhave tried to make more clear. I cannot but think that to\r\napperceive your pupil as a little sensitive, impulsive,\r\nassociative, and reactive organism, partly fated and partly free,\r\nwill lead to a better intelligence of all his ways. Understand him,\r\nthen, as such a subtle little piece of machinery. And if, in\r\naddition, you can also see him \u003ci\u003esub specie boni\u003c/i\u003e, and love him\r\nas well, you will be in the best possible position for becoming\r\nperfect teachers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"TALKS_TO_STUDENTS\" id=\"TALKS_TO_STUDENTS\" /\u003e\u003cb\u003eTALKS\r\nTO STUDENTS\u003c/b\u003e\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"I__THE_GOSPEL_OF_RELAXATION\"\r\nid=\"I__THE_GOSPEL_OF_RELAXATION\" /\u003eI. THE GOSPEL OF RELAXATION\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI wish in the following hour to take certain psychological\r\ndoctrines and show their practical applications to mental\r\nhygiene,\u0026mdash;to the hygiene of our American life more\r\nparticularly. Our people, especially in academic circles, are\r\nturning towards psychology nowadays with great expectations; and,\r\nif psychology is to justify them, it must be by showing fruits in\r\nthe pedagogic and therapeutic lines.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe reader may possibly have heard of a peculiar theory of the\r\nemotions, commonly referred to in psychological literature as the\r\nLange-James theory. According to this theory, our emotions are\r\nmainly due to those organic stirrings that are aroused in us in a\r\nreflex way by the stimulus of the exciting object or situation. An\r\nemotion of fear, for example, or surprise, is not a direct effect\r\nof the object\u0027s presence on the mind, but an effect of that still\r\nearlier effect, the bodily commotion which the object suddenly\r\nexcites; so that, were this bodily commotion suppressed, we should\r\nnot so much \u003ci\u003efeel\u003c/i\u003e fear as call the situation fearful; we\r\nshould not feel surprise, but coldly recognize that the object was\r\nindeed astonishing. One enthusiast has even gone so far as to say\r\nthat when we feel sorry it is because we weep, when we feel afraid\r\nit is because we run away, and not conversely. Some of you may\r\nperhaps be acquainted with the paradoxical formula. Now, whatever\r\nexaggeration may possibly lurk in this account of our emotions (and\r\nI doubt myself whether the exaggeration be very great), it is\r\ncertain that the main core of it is true, and that the mere giving\r\nway to tears, for example, or to the outward expression of an\r\nanger-fit, will result for the moment in making the inner grief or\r\nanger more acutely felt. There is, accordingly, no better known or\r\nmore generally useful precept in the moral training of youth, or in\r\none\u0027s personal self-discipline, than that which bids us pay primary\r\nattention to what we do and express, and not to care too much for\r\nwhat we feel. If we only check a cowardly impulse in time, for\r\nexample, or if we only \u003ci\u003edon\u0027t\u003c/i\u003e strike the blow or rip out with\r\nthe complaining or insulting word that we shall regret as long as\r\nwe live, our feelings themselves will presently be the calmer and\r\nbetter, with no particular guidance from us on their own account.\r\nAction seems to follow feeling, but really action and feeling go\r\ntogether; and by regulating the action, which is under the more\r\ndirect control of the will, we can indirectly regulate the feeling,\r\nwhich is not.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThus the sovereign voluntary path to cheerfulness, if our\r\nspontaneous cheerfulness be lost, is to sit up cheerfully, to look\r\nround cheerfully, and to act and speak as if cheerfulness were\r\nalready there. If such conduct does not make you soon feel\r\ncheerful, nothing else on that occasion can. So to feel brave, act\r\nas if we \u003ci\u003ewere\u003c/i\u003e brave, use all our will to that end, and a\r\ncourage-fit will very likely replace the fit of fear. Again, in\r\norder to feel kindly toward a person to whom we have been inimical,\r\nthe only way is more or less deliberately to smile, to make\r\nsympathetic inquiries, and to force ourselves to say genial things.\r\nOne hearty laugh together will bring enemies into a closer\r\ncommunion of heart than hours spent on both sides in inward\r\nwrestling with the mental demon of uncharitable feeling. To wrestle\r\nwith a bad feeling only pins our attention on it, and keeps it\r\nstill fastened in the mind: whereas, if we act as if from some\r\nbetter feeling, the old bad feeling soon folds its tent like an\r\nArab, and silently steals away.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe best manuals of religious devotion accordingly reiterate the\r\nmaxim that we must let our feelings go, and pay no regard to them\r\nwhatever. In an admirable and widely successful little book called\r\n\u0027The Christian\u0027s Secret of a Happy Life,\u0027 by Mrs. Hannah Whitall\r\nSmith, I find this lesson on almost every page. \u003ci\u003eAct\u003c/i\u003e\r\nfaithfully, and you really have faith, no matter how cold and even\r\nhow dubious you may feel. \"It is your purpose God looks at,\" writes\r\nMrs. Smith, \"not your feelings about that purpose; and your\r\npurpose, or will, is therefore the only thing you need attend\r\nto…. Let your emotions come or let them go, just as God pleases,\r\nand make no account of them either way…. They really have nothing\r\nto do with the matter. They are not the indicators of your\r\nspiritual state, but are merely the indicators of your temperament\r\nor of your present physical condition.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut you all know these facts already, so I need no longer press\r\nthem on your attention. From our acts and from our attitudes\r\nceaseless inpouring currents of sensation come, which help to\r\ndetermine from moment to moment what our inner states shall be:\r\nthat is a fundamental law of psychology which I will therefore\r\nproceed to assume.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA Viennese neurologist of considerable reputation has recently\r\nwritten about the \u003ci\u003eBinnenleben\u003c/i\u003e, as he terms it, or buried\r\nlife of human beings. No doctor, this writer says, can get into\r\nreally profitable relations with a nervous patient until he gets\r\nsome sense of what the patient\u0027s \u003ci\u003eBinnenleben\u003c/i\u003e is, of the sort\r\nof unuttered inner atmosphere in which his consciousness dwells\r\nalone with the secrets of its prison-house. This inner personal\r\ntone is what we can\u0027t communicate or describe articulately to\r\nothers; but the wraith and ghost of it, so to speak, are often what\r\nour friends and intimates feel as our most characteristic quality.\r\nIn the unhealthy-minded, apart from all sorts of old regrets,\r\nambitions checked by shames and aspirations obstructed by\r\ntimidities, it consists mainly of bodily discomforts not distinctly\r\nlocalized by the sufferer, but breeding a general self-mistrust and\r\nsense that things are not as they should be with him. Half the\r\nthirst for alcohol that exists in the world exists simply because\r\nalcohol acts as a temporary an\u0026aelig;sthetic and effacer to all\r\nthese morbid feelings that never ought to be in a human being at\r\nall. In the healthy-minded, on the contrary, there are no fears or\r\nshames to discover; and the sensations that pour in from the\r\norganism only help to swell the general vital sense of security and\r\nreadiness for anything that may turn up.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eConsider, for example, the effects of a well-toned\r\n\u003ci\u003emotor-apparatus\u003c/i\u003e, nervous and muscular, on our general\r\npersonal self-consciousness, the sense of elasticity and efficiency\r\nthat results. They tell us that in Norway the life of the women has\r\nlately been entirely revolutionized by the new order of muscular\r\nfeelings with which the use of the \u003ci\u003eski\u003c/i\u003e, or long snow-shoes,\r\nas a sport for both sexes, has made the women acquainted. Fifteen\r\nyears ago the Norwegian women were even more than the women of\r\nother lands votaries of the old-fashioned ideal of femininity, \u0027the\r\ndomestic angel,\u0027 the \u0027gentle and refining influence\u0027 sort of thing.\r\nNow these sedentary fireside tabby-cats of Norway have been\r\ntrained, they say, by the snow-shoes into lithe and audacious\r\ncreatures, for whom no night is too dark or height too giddy, and\r\nwho are not only saying good-bye to the traditional feminine pallor\r\nand delicacy of constitution, but actually taking the lead in every\r\neducational and social reform. I cannot but think that the tennis\r\nand tramping and skating habits and the bicycle-craze which are so\r\nrapidly extending among our dear sisters and daughters in this\r\ncountry are going also to lead to a sounder and heartier moral\r\ntone, which will send its tonic breath through all our American\r\nlife.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI hope that here in America more and more the ideal of the\r\nwell-trained and vigorous body will be maintained neck by neck with\r\nthat of the well-trained and vigorous mind as the two coequal\r\nhalves of the higher education for men and women alike. The\r\nstrength of the British Empire lies in the strength of character of\r\nthe individual Englishman, taken all alone by himself. And that\r\nstrength, I am persuaded, is perennially nourished and kept up by\r\nnothing so much as by the national worship, in which all classes\r\nmeet, of athletic outdoor life and sport.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI recollect, years ago, reading a certain work by an American\r\ndoctor on hygiene and the laws of life and the type of future\r\nhumanity. I have forgotten its author\u0027s name and its title, but I\r\nremember well an awful prophecy that it contained about the future\r\nof our muscular system. Human perfection, the writer said, means\r\nability to cope with the environment; but the environment will more\r\nand more require mental power from us, and less and less will ask\r\nfor bare brute strength. Wars will cease, machines will do all our\r\nheavy work, man will become more and more a mere director of\r\nnature\u0027s energies, and less and less an exerter of energy on his\r\nown account. So that, if the \u003ci\u003ehomo sapiens\u003c/i\u003e of the future can\r\nonly digest his food and think, what need will he have of\r\nwell-developed muscles at all? And why, pursued this writer, should\r\nwe not even now be satisfied with a more delicate and intellectual\r\ntype of beauty than that which pleased our ancestors? Nay, I have\r\nheard a fanciful friend make a still further advance in this\r\n\u0027new-man\u0027 direction. With our future food, he says, itself prepared\r\nin liquid form from the chemical elements of the atmosphere,\r\npepsinated or half-digested in advance, and sucked up through a\r\nglass tube from a tin can, what need shall we have of teeth, or\r\nstomachs even? They may go, along with our muscles and our physical\r\ncourage, while, challenging ever more and more our proper\r\nadmiration, will grow the gigantic domes of our crania, arching\r\nover our spectacled eyes, and animating our flexible little lips to\r\nthose floods of learned and ingenious talk which will constitute\r\nour most congenial occupation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI am sure that your flesh creeps at this apocalyptic vision.\r\nMine certainly did so; and I cannot believe that our muscular vigor\r\nwill ever be a superfluity. Even if the day ever dawns in which it\r\nwill not be needed for fighting the old heavy battles against\r\nNature, it will still always be needed to furnish the background of\r\nsanity, serenity, and cheerfulness to life, to give moral\r\nelasticity to our disposition, to round off the wiry edge of our\r\nfretfulness, and make us good-humored and easy of approach.\r\nWeakness is too apt to be what the doctors call irritable weakness.\r\nAnd that blessed internal peace and confidence, that\r\n\u003ci\u003eacquiescentia in seipso\u003c/i\u003e, as Spinoza used to call it, that\r\nwells up from every part of the body of a muscularly well-trained\r\nhuman being, and soaks the indwelling soul of him with\r\nsatisfaction, is, quite apart from every consideration of its\r\nmechanical utility, an element of spiritual hygiene of supreme\r\nsignificance.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd now let me go a step deeper into mental hygiene, and try to\r\nenlist your insight and sympathy in a cause which I believe is one\r\nof paramount patriotic importance to us Yankees. Many years ago a\r\nScottish medical man, Dr. Clouston, a mad-doctor as they call him\r\nthere, or what we should call an asylum physician (the most eminent\r\none in Scotland), visited this country, and said something that has\r\nremained in my memory ever since. \"You Americans,\" he said, \"wear\r\ntoo much expression on your faces. You are living like an army with\r\nall its reserves engaged in action. The duller countenances of the\r\nBritish population betoken a better scheme of life. They suggest\r\nstores of reserved nervous force to fall back upon, if any occasion\r\nshould arise that requires it. This inexcitability, this presence\r\nat all times of power not used, I regard,\" continued Dr. Clouston,\r\n\"as the great safeguard of our British people. The other thing in\r\nyou gives me a sense of insecurity, and you ought somehow to tone\r\nyourselves down. You really do carry too much expression, you take\r\ntoo intensely the trivial moments of life.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow Dr. Clouston is a trained reader of the secrets of the soul\r\nas expressed upon the countenance, and the observation of his which\r\nI quote seems to me to mean a great deal. And all Americans who\r\nstay in Europe long enough to get accustomed to the spirit that\r\nreigns and expresses itself there, so unexcitable as compared with\r\nours, make a similar observation when they return to their native\r\nshores. They find a wild-eyed look upon their compatriots\u0027 faces,\r\neither of too desperate eagerness and anxiety or of too intense\r\nresponsiveness and good-will. It is hard to say whether the men or\r\nthe women show it most. It is true that we do not all feel about it\r\nas Dr. Clouston felt. Many of us, far from deploring it, admire it.\r\nWe say: \"What intelligence it shows! How different from the stolid\r\ncheeks, the codfish eyes, the slow, inanimate demeanor we have been\r\nseeing in the British Isles!\" Intensity, rapidity, vivacity of\r\nappearance, are indeed with us something of a nationally accepted\r\nideal; and the medical notion of \u0027irritable weakness\u0027 is not the\r\nfirst thing suggested by them to our mind, as it was to Dr.\r\nClouston\u0027s. In a weekly paper not very long ago I remember reading\r\na story in which, after describing the beauty and interest of the\r\nheroine\u0027s personality, the author summed up her charms by saying\r\nthat to all who looked upon her an impression as of \u0027bottled\r\nlightning\u0027 was irresistibly conveyed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBottled lightning, in truth, is one of our American ideals, even\r\nof a young girl\u0027s character! Now it is most ungracious, and it may\r\nseem to some persons unpatriotic, to criticise in public the\r\nphysical peculiarities of one\u0027s own people, of one\u0027s own family, so\r\nto speak. Besides, it may be said, and said with justice, that\r\nthere are plenty of bottled-lightning temperaments in other\r\ncountries, and plenty of phlegmatic temperaments here; and that,\r\nwhen all is said and done, the more or less of tension about which\r\nI am making such a fuss is a very small item in the sum total of a\r\nnation\u0027s life, and not worth solemn treatment at a time when\r\nagreeable rather than disagreeable things should be talked about.\r\nWell, in one sense the more or less of tension in our faces and in\r\nour unused muscles is a small thing: not much mechanical work is\r\ndone by these contractions. But it is not always the material size\r\nof a thing that measures its importance: often it is its place and\r\nfunction. One of the most philosophical remarks I ever heard made\r\nwas by an unlettered workman who was doing some repairs at my house\r\nmany years ago. \"There is very little difference between one man\r\nand another,\" he said, \"when you go to the bottom of it. But what\r\nlittle there is, is very important.\" And the remark certainly\r\napplies to this case. The general over-contraction may be small\r\nwhen estimated in foot-pounds, but its importance is immense on\r\naccount of its \u003ci\u003eeffects on the over-contracted person\u0027s spiritual\r\nlife\u003c/i\u003e. This follows as a necessary consequence from the theory\r\nof our emotions to which I made reference at the beginning of this\r\narticle. For by the sensations that so incessantly pour in from the\r\nover-tense excited body the over-tense and excited habit of mind is\r\nkept up; and the sultry, threatening, exhausting, thunderous inner\r\natmosphere never quite clears away. If you never wholly give\r\nyourself up to the chair you sit in, but always keep your leg- and\r\nbody-muscles half contracted for a rise; if you breathe eighteen or\r\nnineteen instead of sixteen times a minute, and never quite breathe\r\nout at that,\u0026mdash;what mental mood \u003ci\u003ecan\u003c/i\u003e you be in but one of\r\ninner panting and expectancy, and how can the future and its\r\nworries possibly forsake your mind? On the other hand, how can they\r\ngain admission to your mind if your brow be unruffled, your\r\nrespiration calm and complete, and your muscles all relaxed?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow what is the cause of this absence of repose, this\r\nbottled-lightning quality in us Americans? The explanation of it\r\nthat is usually given is that it comes from the extreme dryness of\r\nour climate and the acrobatic performances of our thermometer,\r\ncoupled with the extraordinary progressiveness of our life, the\r\nhard work, the railroad speed, the rapid success, and all the other\r\nthings we know so well by heart. Well, our climate is certainly\r\nexciting, but hardly more so than that of many parts of Europe,\r\nwhere nevertheless no bottled-lightning girls are found. And the\r\nwork done and the pace of life are as extreme an every great\r\ncapital of Europe as they are here. To me both of these pretended\r\ncauses are utterly insufficient to explain the facts.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo explain them, we must go not to physical geography, but to\r\npsychology and sociology. The latest chapter both in sociology and\r\nin psychology to be developed in a manner that approaches adequacy\r\nis the chapter on the imitative impulse. First Bagehot, then Tarde,\r\nthen Royce and Baldwin here, have shown that invention and\r\nimitation, taken together, form, one may say, the entire warp and\r\nwoof of human life, in so far as it is social. The American\r\nover-tension and jerkiness and breathlessness and intensity and\r\nagony of expression are primarily social, and only secondarily\r\nphysiological, phenomena. They are \u003ci\u003ebad habits\u003c/i\u003e, nothing more\r\nor less, bred of custom and example, born of the imitation of bad\r\nmodels and the cultivation of false personal ideals. How are idioms\r\nacquired, how do local peculiarities of phrase and accent come\r\nabout? Through an accidental example set by some one, which struck\r\nthe ears of others, and was quoted and copied till at last every\r\none in the locality chimed in. Just so it is with national tricks\r\nof vocalization or intonation, with national manners, fashions of\r\nmovement and gesture, and habitual expressions of face. We, here in\r\nAmerica, through following a succession of pattern-setters whom it\r\nis now impossible to trace, and through influencing each other in a\r\nbad direction, have at last settled down collectively into what,\r\nfor better or worse, is our own characteristic national\r\ntype,\u0026mdash;a type with the production of which, so far as these\r\nhabits go, the climate and conditions have had practically nothing\r\nat all to do.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis type, which we have thus reached by our imitativeness, we\r\nnow have fixed upon us, for better or worse. Now no type can be\r\n\u003ci\u003ewholly\u003c/i\u003e disadvantageous; but, so far as our type follows the\r\nbottled-lightning fashion, it cannot be wholly good. Dr. Clouston\r\nwas certainly right in thinking that eagerness, breathlessness, and\r\nanxiety are not signs of strength: they are signs of weakness and\r\nof bad co-ordination. The even forehead, the slab-like cheek, the\r\ncodfish eye, may be less interesting for the moment; but they are\r\nmore promising signs than intense expression is of what we may\r\nexpect of their possessor in the long run. Your dull, unhurried\r\nworker gets over a great deal of ground, because he never goes\r\nbackward or breaks down. Your intense, convulsive worker breaks\r\ndown and has bad moods so often that you never know where he may be\r\nwhen you most need his help,\u0026mdash;he may be having one of his \u0027bad\r\ndays.\u0027 We say that so many of our fellow-countrymen collapse, and\r\nhave to be sent abroad to rest their nerves, because they work so\r\nhard. I suspect that this is an immense mistake. I suspect that\r\nneither the nature nor the amount of our work is accountable for\r\nthe frequency and severity of our breakdowns, but that their cause\r\nlies rather in those absurd feelings of hurry and having no time,\r\nin that breathlessness and tension, that anxiety of feature and\r\nthat solicitude for results, that lack of inner harmony and ease,\r\nin short, by which with us the work is so apt to be accompanied,\r\nand from which a European who should do the same work would nine\r\ntimes out of ten be free. These perfectly wanton and unnecessary\r\ntricks of inner attitude and outer manner in us, caught from the\r\nsocial atmosphere, kept up by tradition, and idealized by many as\r\nthe admirable way of life, are the last straws that break the\r\nAmerican camel\u0027s back, the final overflowers of our measure of wear\r\nand tear and fatigue.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe voice, for example, in a surprisingly large number of us has\r\na tired and plaintive sound. Some of us are really tired (for I do\r\nnot mean absolutely to deny that our climate has a tiring quality);\r\nbut far more of us are not tired at all, or would not be tired at\r\nall unless we had got into a wretched trick of feeling tired, by\r\nfollowing the prevalent habits of vocalization and expression. And\r\nif talking high and tired, and living excitedly and hurriedly,\r\nwould only enable us to \u003ci\u003edo\u003c/i\u003e more by the way, even while\r\nbreaking us down in the end, it would be different. There would be\r\nsome compensation, some excuse, for going on so. But the exact\r\nreverse is the case. It is your relaxed and easy worker, who is in\r\nno hurry, and quite thoughtless most of the while of consequences,\r\nwho is your efficient worker; and tension and anxiety, and present\r\nand future, all mixed up together in our mind at once, are the\r\nsurest drags upon steady progress and hindrances to our success. My\r\ncolleague, Professor M\u0026uuml;nsterberg, an excellent observer, who\r\ncame here recently, has written some notes on America to German\r\npapers. He says in substance that the appearance of unusual energy\r\nin America is superficial and illusory, being really due to nothing\r\nbut the habits of jerkiness and bad co-ordination for which we have\r\nto thank the defective training of our people. I think myself that\r\nit is high time for old legends and traditional opinions to be\r\nchanged; and that, if any one should begin to write about Yankee\r\ninefficiency and feebleness, and inability to do anything with time\r\nexcept to waste it, he would have a very pretty paradoxical little\r\nthesis to sustain, with a great many facts to quote, and a great\r\ndeal of experience to appeal to in its proof.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWell, my friends, if our dear American character is weakened by\r\nall this over-tension,\u0026mdash;and I think, whatever reserves you may\r\nmake, that you will agree as to the main facts,\u0026mdash;where does\r\nthe remedy lie? It lies, of course, where lay the origins of the\r\ndisease. If a vicious fashion and taste are to blame for the thing,\r\nthe fashion and taste must be changed. And, though it is no small\r\nthing to inoculate seventy millions of people with new standards,\r\nyet, if there is to be any relief, that will have to be done. We\r\nmust change ourselves from a race that admires jerk and snap for\r\ntheir own sakes, and looks down upon low voices and quiet ways as\r\ndull, to one that, on the contrary, has calm for its ideal, and for\r\ntheir own sakes loves harmony, dignity, and ease.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo we go back to the psychology of imitation again. There is\r\nonly one way to improve ourselves, and that is by some of us\r\nsetting an example which the others may pick up and imitate till\r\nthe new fashion spreads from east to west. Some of us are in more\r\nfavorable positions than others to set new fashions. Some are much\r\nmore striking personally and imitable, so to speak. But no living\r\nperson is sunk so low as not to be imitated by somebody. Thackeray\r\nsomewhere says of the Irish nation that there never was an Irishman\r\nso poor that he didn\u0027t have a still poorer Irishman living at his\r\nexpense; and, surely, there is no human being whose example doesn\u0027t\r\nwork contagiously in \u003ci\u003esome\u003c/i\u003e particular. The very idiots at our\r\npublic institutions imitate each other\u0027s peculiarities. And, if you\r\nshould individually achieve calmness and harmony in your own\r\nperson, you may depend upon it that a wave of imitation will spread\r\nfrom you, as surely as the circles spread outward when a stone is\r\ndropped into a lake.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFortunately, we shall not have to be absolute pioneers. Even now\r\nin New York they have formed a society for the improvement of our\r\nnational vocalization, and one perceives its machinations already\r\nin the shape of various newspaper paragraphs intended to stir up\r\ndissatisfaction with the awful thing that it is. And, better still\r\nthan that, because more radical and general, is the gospel of\r\nrelaxation, as one may call it, preached by Miss Annie Payson Call,\r\nof Boston, in her admirable little volume called \u0027Power through\r\nRepose,\u0027 a book that ought to be in the hands of every teacher and\r\nstudent in America of either sex. You need only be followers, then,\r\non a path already opened up by others. But of one thing be\r\nconfident: others still will follow you.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd this brings me to one more application of psychology to\r\npractical life, to which I will call attention briefly, and then\r\nclose. If one\u0027s example of easy and calm ways is to be effectively\r\ncontagious, one feels by instinct that the less voluntarily one\r\naims at getting imitated, the more unconscious one keeps in the\r\nmatter, the more likely one is to succeed. \u003ci\u003eBecome the imitable\r\nthing\u003c/i\u003e, and you may then discharge your minds of all\r\nresponsibility for the imitation. The laws of social nature will\r\ntake care of that result. Now the psychological principle on which\r\nthis precept reposes is a law of very deep and wide-spread\r\nimportance in the conduct of our lives, and at the same time a law\r\nwhich we Americans most grievously neglect. Stated technically, the\r\nlaw is this: that \u003ci\u003estrong feeling about one\u0027s self tends to\r\narrest the free association of one\u0027s objective ideas and motor\r\nprocesses\u003c/i\u003e. We get the extreme example of this in the mental\r\ndisease called melancholia.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA melancholic patient is filled through and through with\r\nintensely painful emotion about himself. He is threatened, he is\r\nguilty, he is doomed, he is annihilated, he is lost. His mind is\r\nfixed as if in a cramp on these feelings of his own situation, and\r\nin all the books on insanity you may read that the usual varied\r\nflow of his thoughts has ceased. His associative processes, to use\r\nthe technical phrase, are inhibited; and his ideas stand\r\nstock-still, shut up to their one monotonous function of\r\nreiterating inwardly the fact of the man\u0027s desperate estate. And\r\nthis inhibitive influence is not due to the mere fact that his\r\nemotion is \u003ci\u003epainful\u003c/i\u003e. Joyous emotions about the self also stop\r\nthe association of our ideas. A saint in ecstasy is as motionless\r\nand irresponsive and one-idea\u0027d as a melancholiac. And, without\r\ngoing as far as ecstatic saints, we know how in every one a great\r\nor sudden pleasure may paralyze the flow of thought. Ask young\r\npeople returning from a party or a spectacle, and all excited about\r\nit, what it was. \"Oh, it was \u003ci\u003efine\u003c/i\u003e! it was \u003ci\u003efine\u003c/i\u003e! it\r\nwas \u003ci\u003efine\u003c/i\u003e!\" is all the information you are likely to receive\r\nuntil the excitement has calmed down. Probably every one of my\r\nhearers has been made temporarily half-idiotic by some great\r\nsuccess or piece of good fortune. \"\u003ci\u003eGood\u003c/i\u003e! GOOD! GOOD!\" is all\r\nwe can at such times say to ourselves until we smile at our own\r\nvery foolishness.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow from all this we can draw an extremely practical conclusion.\r\nIf, namely, we wish our trains of ideation and volition to be\r\ncopious and varied and effective, we must form the habit of freeing\r\nthem from the inhibitive influence of reflection upon them, of\r\negoistic preoccupation about their results. Such a habit, like\r\nother habits, can be formed. Prudence and duty and self-regard,\r\nemotions of ambition and emotions of anxiety, have, of course, a\r\nneedful part to play in our lives.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut confine them as far as possible to the occasions when you\r\nare making your general resolutions and deciding on your plans of\r\ncampaign, and keep them out of the details. When once a decision is\r\nreached and execution is the order of the day, dismiss absolutely\r\nall responsibility and care about the outcome. \u003ci\u003eUnclamp\u003c/i\u003e, in a\r\nword, your intellectual and practical machinery, and let it run\r\nfree; and the service it will do you will be twice as good. Who are\r\nthe scholars who get \u0027rattled\u0027 in the recitation-room? Those who\r\nthink of the possibilities of failure and feel the great importance\r\nof the act. Who are those who do recite well? Often those who are\r\nmost indifferent. \u003ci\u003eTheir\u003c/i\u003e ideas reel themselves out of their\r\nmemory of their own accord. Why do we hear the complaint so often\r\nthat social life in New England is either less rich and expressive\r\nor more fatiguing than it is in some other parts of the world? To\r\nwhat is the fact, if fact it be, due unless to the over-active\r\nconscience of the people, afraid of either saying something too\r\ntrivial and obvious, or something insincere, or something unworthy\r\nof one\u0027s interlocutor, or something in some way or other not\r\nadequate to the occasion? How can conversation possibly steer\r\nitself through such a sea of responsibilities and inhibitions as\r\nthis? On the other hand, conversation does flourish and society is\r\nrefreshing, and neither dull on the one hand nor exhausting from\r\nits effort on the other, wherever people forget their scruples and\r\ntake the brakes off their hearts, and let their tongues wag as\r\nautomatically and irresponsibly as they will.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThey talk much in pedagogic circles to-day about the duty of the\r\nteacher to prepare for every lesson in advance. To some extent this\r\nis useful. But we Yankees are assuredly not those to whom such a\r\ngeneral doctrine should be preached. We are only too careful as it\r\nis. The advice I should give to most teachers would be in the words\r\nof one who is herself an admirable teacher. Prepare yourself in the\r\n\u003ci\u003esubject so well that it shall be always on tap\u003c/i\u003e: then in the\r\nclass-room trust your spontaneity and fling away all further\r\ncare.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eMy advice to students, especially to girl-students, would be\r\nsomewhat similar. Just as a bicycle-chain may be too tight, so may\r\none\u0027s carefulness and conscientiousness be so tense as to hinder\r\nthe running of one\u0027s mind. Take, for example, periods when there\r\nare many successive days of examination impending. One ounce of\r\ngood nervous tone in an examination is worth many pounds of anxious\r\nstudy for it in advance. If you want really to do your best in an\r\nexamination, fling away the book the day before, say to yourself,\r\n\"I won\u0027t waste another minute on this miserable thing, and I don\u0027t\r\ncare an iota whether I succeed or not.\" Say this sincerely, and\r\nfeel it; and go out and play, or go to bed and sleep, and I am sure\r\nthe results next day will encourage you to use the method\r\npermanently. I have heard this advice given to a student by Miss\r\nCall, whose book on muscular relaxation I quoted a moment ago. In\r\nher later book, entitled \u0027As a Matter of Course,\u0027 the gospel of\r\nmoral relaxation, of dropping things from the mind, and not\r\n\u0027caring,\u0027 is preached with equal success. Not only our preachers,\r\nbut our friends the theosophists and mind-curers of various\r\nreligious sects are also harping on this string. And with the\r\ndoctors, the Delsarteans, the various mind-curing sects, and such\r\nwriters as Mr. Dresser, Prentice Mulford, Mr. Horace Fletcher, and\r\nMr. Trine to help, and the whole band of schoolteachers and\r\nmagazine-readers chiming in, it really looks as if a good start\r\nmight be made in the direction of changing our American mental\r\nhabit into something more indifferent and strong.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWorry means always and invariably inhibition of associations and\r\nloss of effective power. Of course, the sovereign cure for worry is\r\nreligious faith; and this, of course, you also know. The turbulent\r\nbillows of the fretful surface leave the deep parts of the ocean\r\nundisturbed, and to him who has a hold on vaster and more permanent\r\nrealities the hourly vicissitudes of his personal destiny seem\r\nrelatively insignificant things. The really religious person is\r\naccordingly unshakable and full of equanimity, and calmly ready for\r\nany duty that the day may bring forth. This is charmingly\r\nillustrated by a little work with which I recently became\r\nacquainted, \"The Practice of the Presence of God, the Best Ruler of\r\na Holy Life, by Brother Lawrence, being Conversations and Letters\r\nof Nicholas Herman of Lorraine, Translated from the French.\"\u003ca\r\nname=\"FNanchor_A_3\" id=\"FNanchor_A_3\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_3\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e I extract a few passages, the\r\nconversations being given in indirect discourse. Brother Lawrence\r\nwas a Carmelite friar, converted at Paris in 1666. \"He said that he\r\nhad been footman to M. Fieubert, the Treasurer, and that he was a\r\ngreat awkward fellow, who broke everything. That he had desired to\r\nbe received into a monastery, thinking that he would there be made\r\nto smart for his awkwardness and the faults he should commit, and\r\nso he should sacrifice to God his life, with its pleasures; but\r\nthat God had disappointed him, he having met with nothing but\r\nsatisfaction in that state….\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_3\" id=\"Footnote_A_3\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_3\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Fleming H.\r\nRevell Company, New York.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"That he had long been troubled in mind from a certain belief\r\nthat he should be damned; that all the men in the world could not\r\nhave persuaded him to the contrary; but that he had thus reasoned\r\nwith himself about it: \u003ci\u003eI engaged in a religious life only for\r\nthe love of God, and I have endeavored to act only for Him;\r\nwhatever becomes of me, whether I be lost or saved, I will always\r\ncontinue to act purely for the love of God. I shall have this good\r\nat least, that till death I shall have done all that is in me to\r\nlove Him\u003c/i\u003e…. That since then he had passed his life in perfect\r\nliberty and continual joy.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"That when an occasion of practising some virtue offered, he\r\naddressed himself to God, saying, \u0027Lord, I cannot do this unless\r\nthou enablest me\u0027; and that then he received strength more than\r\nsufficient. That, when he had failed in his duty, he only confessed\r\nhis fault, saying to God, \u0027I shall never do otherwise, if You leave\r\nme to myself; it is You who must hinder my failing, and mend what\r\nis amiss.\u0027 That after this he gave himself no further uneasiness\r\nabout it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"That he had been lately sent into Burgundy to buy the provision\r\nof wine for the society, which was a very unwelcome task for him,\r\nbecause he had no turn for business, and because he was lame, and\r\ncould not go about the boat but by rolling himself over the casks.\r\nThat, however, he gave himself no uneasiness about it, nor about\r\nthe purchase of the wine. That he said to God, \u0027It was his business\r\nhe was about,\u0027 and that he afterward found it well performed. That\r\nhe had been sent into Auvergne, the year before, upon the same\r\naccount; that he could not tell how the matter passed, but that it\r\nproved very well.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"So, likewise, in his business in the kitchen (to which he had\r\nnaturally a great aversion), having accustomed himself to do\r\neverything there for the love of God, and with prayer upon all\r\noccasions, for his grace to do his work well, he had found\r\neverything easy during fifteen years that he had been employed\r\nthere.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"That he was very well pleased with the post he was now in, but\r\nthat he was as ready to quit that as the former, since he was\r\nalways pleasing himself in every condition, by doing little things\r\nfor the love of God.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"That the goodness of God assured him he would not forsake him\r\nutterly, and that he would give him strength to bear whatever evil\r\nhe permitted to happen to him; and, therefore, that he feared\r\nnothing, and had no occasion to consult with anybody about his\r\nstate. That, when he had attempted to do it, he had always come\r\naway more perplexed.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe simple-heartedness of the good Brother Lawrence, and the\r\nrelaxation of all unnecessary solicitudes and anxieties in him, is\r\na refreshing spectacle.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe need of feeling responsible all the livelong day has been\r\npreached long enough in our New England. Long enough exclusively,\r\nat any rate,\u0026mdash;and long enough to the female sex. What our\r\ngirl-students and woman-teachers most need nowadays is not the\r\nexacerbation, but rather the toning-down of their moral tensions.\r\nEven now I fear that some one of my fair hearers may be making an\r\nundying resolve to become strenuously relaxed, cost what it will,\r\nfor the remainder of her life. It is needless to say that that is\r\nnot the way to do it. The way to do it, paradoxical as it may seem,\r\nis genuinely not to care whether you are doing it or not. Then,\r\npossibly, by the grace of God, you may all at once find that you\r\n\u003ci\u003eare\u003c/i\u003e doing it, and, having learned what the trick feels like,\r\nyou may (again by the grace of God) be enabled to go on.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd that something like this may be the happy experience of all\r\nmy hearers is, in closing, my most earnest wish.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"II__ON_A_CERTAIN_BLINDNESS_IN_HUMAN_BEINGS\"\r\nid=\"II__ON_A_CERTAIN_BLINDNESS_IN_HUMAN_BEINGS\" /\u003eII. ON A CERTAIN\r\nBLINDNESS IN HUMAN BEINGS\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOur judgments concerning the worth of things, big or little,\r\ndepend on the \u003ci\u003efeelings\u003c/i\u003e the things arouse in us. Where we\r\njudge a thing to be precious in consequence of the \u003ci\u003eidea\u003c/i\u003e we\r\nframe of it, this is only because the idea is itself associated\r\nalready with a feeling. If we were radically feelingless, and if\r\nideas were the only things our mind could entertain, we should lose\r\nall our likes and dislikes at a stroke, and be unable to point to\r\nany one situation or experience in life more valuable or\r\nsignificant than any other.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow the blindness in human beings, of which this discourse will\r\ntreat, is the blindness with which we all are afflicted in regard\r\nto the feelings of creatures and people different from\r\nourselves.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe are practical beings, each of us with limited functions and\r\nduties to perform. Each is bound to feel intensely the importance\r\nof his own duties and the significance of the situations that call\r\nthese forth. But this feeling is in each of us a vital secret, for\r\nsympathy with which we vainly look to others. The others are too\r\nmuch absorbed in their own vital secrets to take an interest in\r\nours. Hence the stupidity and injustice of our opinions, so far as\r\nthey deal with the significance of alien lives. Hence the falsity\r\nof our judgments, so far as they presume to decide in an absolute\r\nway on the value of other persons\u0027 conditions or ideals.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTake our dogs and ourselves, connected as we are by a tie more\r\nintimate than most ties in this world; and yet, outside of that tie\r\nof friendly fondness, how insensible, each of us, to all that makes\r\nlife significant for the other!\u0026mdash;we to the rapture of bones\r\nunder hedges, or smells of trees and lamp-posts, they to the\r\ndelights of literature and art. As you sit reading the most moving\r\nromance you ever fell upon, what sort of a judge is your\r\nfox-terrier of your behavior? With all his good will toward you,\r\nthe nature of your conduct is absolutely excluded from his\r\ncomprehension. To sit there like a senseless statue, when you might\r\nbe taking him to walk and throwing sticks for him to catch! What\r\nqueer disease is this that comes over you every day, of holding\r\nthings and staring at them like that for hours together, paralyzed\r\nof motion and vacant of all conscious life? The African savages\r\ncame nearer the truth; but they, too, missed it, when they gathered\r\nwonderingly round one of our American travellers who, in the\r\ninterior, had just come into possession of a stray copy of the New\r\nYork \u003ci\u003eCommercial Advertiser\u003c/i\u003e, and was devouring it column by\r\ncolumn. When he got through, they offered him a high price for the\r\nmysterious object; and, being asked for what they wanted it, they\r\nsaid: \"For an eye medicine,\"\u0026mdash;that being the only reason they\r\ncould conceive of for the protracted bath which he had given his\r\neyes upon its surface.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe spectator\u0027s judgment is sure to miss the root of the matter,\r\nand to possess no truth. The subject judged knows a part of the\r\nworld of reality which the judging spectator fails to see, knows\r\nmore while the spectator knows less; and, wherever there is\r\nconflict of opinion and difference of vision, we are bound to\r\nbelieve that the truer side is the side that feels the more, and\r\nnot the side that feels the less.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet me take a personal example of the kind that befalls each one\r\nof us daily:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSome years ago, while journeying in the mountains of North\r\nCarolina, I passed by a large number of \u0027coves,\u0027 as they call them\r\nthere, or heads of small valleys between the hills, which had been\r\nnewly cleared and planted. The impression on my mind was one of\r\nunmitigated squalor. The settler had in every case cut down the\r\nmore manageable trees, and left their charred stumps standing. The\r\nlarger trees he had girdled and killed, in order that their foliage\r\nshould not cast a shade. He had then built a log cabin, plastering\r\nits chinks with clay, and had set up a tall zigzag rail fence\r\naround the scene of his havoc, to keep the pigs and cattle out.\r\nFinally, he had irregularly planted the intervals between the\r\nstumps and trees with Indian corn, which grew among the chips; and\r\nthere he dwelt with his wife and babes\u0026mdash;an axe, a gun, a few\r\nutensils, and some pigs and chickens feeding in the woods, being\r\nthe sum total of his possessions.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe forest had been destroyed; and what had \u0027improved\u0027 it out of\r\nexistence was hideous, a sort of ulcer, without a single element of\r\nartificial grace to make up for the loss of Nature\u0027s beauty. Ugly,\r\nindeed, seemed the life of the squatter, scudding, as the sailors\r\nsay, under bare poles, beginning again away back where our first\r\nancestors started, and by hardly a single item the better off for\r\nall the achievements of the intervening generations.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTalk about going back to nature! I said to myself, oppressed by\r\nthe dreariness, as I drove by. Talk of a country life for one\u0027s old\r\nage and for one\u0027s children! Never thus, with nothing but the bare\r\nground and one\u0027s bare hands to fight the battle! Never, without the\r\nbest spoils of culture woven in! The beauties and commodities\r\ngained by the centuries are sacred. They are our heritage and\r\nbirthright. No modern person ought to be willing to live a day in\r\nsuch a state of rudimentariness and denudation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThen I said to the mountaineer who was driving me, \"What sort of\r\npeople are they who have to make these new clearings?\" \"All of us,\"\r\nhe replied. \"Why, we ain\u0027t happy here, unless we are getting one of\r\nthese coves under cultivation.\" I instantly felt that I had been\r\nlosing the whole inward significance of the situation. Because to\r\nme the clearings spoke of naught but denudation, I thought that to\r\nthose whose sturdy arms and obedient axes had made them they could\r\ntell no other story. But, when \u003ci\u003ethey\u003c/i\u003e looked on the hideous\r\nstumps, what they thought of was personal victory. The chips, the\r\ngirdled trees, and the vile split rails spoke of honest sweat,\r\npersistent toil and final reward. The cabin was a warrant of safety\r\nfor self and wife and babes. In short, the clearing, which to me\r\nwas a mere ugly picture on the retina, was to them a symbol\r\nredolent with moral memories and sang a very p\u0026aelig;an of duty,\r\nstruggle, and success.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI had been as blind to the peculiar ideality of their conditions\r\nas they certainly would also have been to the ideality of mine, had\r\nthey had a peep at my strange indoor academic ways of life at\r\nCambridge.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWherever a process of life communicates an eagerness to him who\r\nlives it, there the life becomes genuinely significant. Sometimes\r\nthe eagerness is more knit up with the motor activities, sometimes\r\nwith the perceptions, sometimes with the imagination, sometimes\r\nwith reflective thought. But, wherever it is found, there is the\r\nzest, the tingle, the excitement of reality; and there \u003ci\u003eis\u003c/i\u003e\r\n\u0027importance\u0027 in the only real and positive sense in which\r\nimportance ever anywhere can be.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eRobert Louis Stevenson has illustrated this by a case, drawn\r\nfrom the sphere of the imagination, in an essay which I really\r\nthink deserves to become immortal, both for the truth of its matter\r\nand the excellence of its form.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Toward the end of September,\" Stevenson writes, \"when\r\nschool-time was drawing near, and the nights were already black, we\r\nwould begin to sally from our respective villas, each equipped with\r\na tin bull\u0027s-eye lantern. The thing was so well known that it had\r\nworn a rut in the commerce of Great Britain; and the grocers, about\r\nthe due time, began to garnish their windows with our particular\r\nbrand of luminary. We wore them buckled to the waist upon a cricket\r\nbelt, and over them, such was the rigor of the game, a buttoned\r\ntop-coat. They smelled noisomely of blistered tin. They never\r\nburned aright, though they would always burn our fingers. Their use\r\nwas naught, the pleasure of them merely fanciful, and yet a boy\r\nwith a bull\u0027s-eye under his top-coat asked for nothing more. The\r\nfishermen used lanterns about their boats, and it was from them, I\r\nsuppose, that we had got the hint; but theirs were not bull\u0027s-eyes,\r\nnor did we ever play at being fishermen. The police carried them at\r\ntheir belts, and we had plainly copied them in that; yet we did not\r\npretend to be policemen. Burglars, indeed, we may have had some\r\nhaunting thought of; and we had certainly an eye to past ages when\r\nlanterns were more common, and to certain story-books in which we\r\nhad found them to figure very largely. But take it for all in all,\r\nthe pleasure of the thing was substantive; and to be a boy with a\r\nbull\u0027s-eye under his top-coat was good enough for us.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"When two of these asses met, there would be an anxious \u0027Have\r\nyou got your lantern?\u0027 and a gratified \u0027Yes!\u0027 That was the\r\nshibboleth, and very needful, too; for, as it was the rule to keep\r\nour glory contained, none could recognize a lantern-bearer unless\r\n(like the polecat) by the smell. Four or five would sometimes climb\r\ninto the belly of a ten-man lugger, with nothing but the thwarts\r\nabove them,\u0026mdash;for the cabin was usually locked,\u0026mdash;or chose\r\nout some hollow of the links where the wind might whistle overhead.\r\nThen the coats would be unbuttoned, and the bull\u0027s-eyes discovered;\r\nand in the chequering glimmer, under the huge, windy hall of the\r\nnight, and cheered by a rich steam of toasting tinware, these\r\nfortunate young gentlemen would crouch together in the cold sand of\r\nthe links, or on the scaly bilges of the fishing-boat, and delight\r\nthem with inappropriate talk. Woe is me that I cannot give some\r\nspecimens!… But the talk was but a condiment, and these\r\ngatherings themselves only accidents in the career of the\r\nlantern-bearer. The essence of this bliss was to walk by yourself\r\nin the black night, the slide shut, the top-coat buttoned, not a\r\nray escaping, whether to conduct your footsteps or to make your\r\nglory public,\u0026mdash;a mere pillar of darkness in the dark; and all\r\nthe while, deep down in the privacy of your fool\u0027s heart, to know\r\nyou had a bull\u0027s-eye at your belt, and to exult and sing over the\r\nknowledge.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"It is said that a poet has died young in the breast of the most\r\nstolid. It may be contended rather that a (somewhat minor) bard in\r\nalmost every case survives, and is the spice of life to his\r\npossessor. Justice is not done to the versatility and the unplumbed\r\nchildishness of man\u0027s imagination. His life from without may seem\r\nbut a rude mound of mud: there will be some golden chamber at the\r\nheart of it, in which he dwells delighted; and for as dark as his\r\npathway seems to the observer, he will have some kind of bull\u0027s-eye\r\nat his belt.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e…\"There is one fable that touches very near the quick of\r\nlife,\u0026mdash;the fable of the monk who passed into the woods, heard\r\na bird break into song, hearkened for a trill or two, and found\r\nhimself at his return a stranger at his convent gates; for he had\r\nbeen absent fifty years, and of all his comrades there survived but\r\none to recognize him. It is not only in the woods that this\r\nenchanter carols, though perhaps he is native there. He sings in\r\nthe most doleful places. The miser hears him and chuckles, and his\r\ndays are moments. With no more apparatus than an evil-smelling\r\nlantern, I have evoked him on the naked links. All life that is not\r\nmerely mechanical is spun out of two strands,\u0026mdash;seeking for\r\nthat bird and hearing him. And it is just this that makes life so\r\nhard to value, and the delight of each so incommunicable. And it is\r\njust a knowledge of this, and a remembrance of those fortunate\r\nhours in which the bird \u003ci\u003ehas\u003c/i\u003e sung to \u003ci\u003eus\u003c/i\u003e, that fills us\r\nwith such wonder when we turn to the pages of the realist. There,\r\nto be sure, we find a picture of life in so far as it consists of\r\nmud and of old iron, cheap desires and cheap fears, that which we\r\nare ashamed to remember and that which we are careless whether we\r\nforget; but of the note of that time-devouring nightingale we hear\r\nno news.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e…\"Say that we came [in such a realistic romance] on some such\r\nbusiness as that of my lantern-bearers on the links, and described\r\nthe boys as very cold, spat upon by flurries of rain, and drearily\r\nsurrounded, all of which they were; and their talk as silly and\r\nindecent, which it certainly was. To the eye of the observer they\r\n\u003ci\u003eare\u003c/i\u003e wet and cold and drearily surrounded; but ask\r\nthemselves, and they are in the heaven of a recondite pleasure, the\r\nground of which is an ill-smelling lantern.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"For, to repeat, the ground of a man\u0027s joy is often hard to hit.\r\nIt may hinge at times upon a mere accessory, like the lantern; it\r\nmay reside in the mysterious inwards of psychology…. It has so\r\nlittle bond with externals … that it may even touch them not, and\r\nthe man\u0027s true life, for which he consents to live, lie together in\r\nthe field of fancy…. In such a case the poetry runs underground.\r\nThe observer (poor soul, with his documents!) is all abroad. For to\r\nlook at the man is but to court deception. We shall see the trunk\r\nfrom which he draws his nourishment; but he himself is above and\r\nabroad in the green dome of foliage, hummed through by winds and\r\nnested in by nightingales. And the true realism were that of the\r\npoets, to climb after him like a squirrel, and catch some glimpse\r\nof the heaven in which he lives. And the true realism, always and\r\neverywhere, is that of the poets: to find out where joy resides,\r\nand give it a voice far beyond singing.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"For to miss the joy is to miss all. In the joy of the actors\r\nlies the sense of any action. That is the explanation, that the\r\nexcuse. To one who has not the secret of the lanterns the scene\r\nupon the links is meaningless. And hence the haunting and truly\r\nspectral unreality of realistic books…. In each we miss the\r\npersonal poetry, the enchanted atmosphere, that rainbow work of\r\nfancy that clothes what is naked and seems to ennoble what is base;\r\nin each, life falls dead like dough, instead of soaring away like a\r\nballoon into the colors of the sunset; each is true, each\r\ninconceivable; for no man lives in the external truth among salts\r\nand acids, but in the warm, phantasmagoric chamber of his brain,\r\nwith the painted windows and the storied wall.\"\u003ca\r\nname=\"FNanchor_A_4\" id=\"FNanchor_A_4\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_4\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_4\" id=\"Footnote_A_4\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_4\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e \u0027The\r\nLantern-bearers,\u0027 in the volume entitled \u0027Across the Plains.\u0027\r\nAbridged in the quotation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThese paragraphs are the best thing I know in all Stevenson. \"To\r\nmiss the joy is to miss all.\" Indeed, it is. Yet we are but finite,\r\nand each one of us has some single specialized vocation of his own.\r\nAnd it seems as if energy in the service of its particular duties\r\nmight be got only by hardening the heart toward everything unlike\r\nthem. Our deadness toward all but one particular kind of joy would\r\nthus be the price we inevitably have to pay for being practical\r\ncreatures. Only in some pitiful dreamer, some philosopher, poet, or\r\nromancer, or when the common practical man becomes a lover, does\r\nthe hard externality give way, and a gleam of insight into the\r\nejective world, as Clifford called it, the vast world of inner life\r\nbeyond us, so different from that of outer seeming, illuminate our\r\nmind. Then the whole scheme of our customary values gets\r\nconfounded, then our self is riven and its narrow interests fly to\r\npieces, then a new centre and a new perspective must be found.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe change is well described by my colleague, Josiah\r\nRoyce:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"What, then, is our neighbor? Thou hast regarded his thought,\r\nhis feeling, as somehow different from thine. Thou hast said, \u0027A\r\npain in him is not like a pain in me, but something far easier to\r\nbear.\u0027 He seems to thee a little less living than thou; his life is\r\ndim, it is cold, it is a pale fire beside thy own burning\r\ndesires…. So, dimly and by instinct hast thou lived with thy\r\nneighbor, and hast known him not, being blind. Thou hast made [of\r\nhim] a thing, no Self at all. Have done with this illusion, and\r\nsimply try to learn the truth. Pain is pain, joy is joy,\r\neverywhere, even as in thee. In all the songs of the forest birds;\r\nin all the cries of the wounded and dying, struggling in the\r\ncaptor\u0027s power; in the boundless sea where the myriads of\r\nwater-creatures strive and die; amid all the countless hordes of\r\nsavage men; in all sickness and sorrow; in all exultation and hope,\r\neverywhere, from the lowest to the noblest, the same conscious,\r\nburning, wilful life is found, endlessly manifold as the forms of\r\nthe living creatures, unquenchable as the fires of the sun, real as\r\nthese impulses that even now throb in thine own little selfish\r\nheart. Lift up thy eyes, behold that life, and then turn away, and\r\nforget it as thou canst; but, if thou hast \u003ci\u003eknown\u003c/i\u003e that, thou\r\nhast begun to know thy duty.\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_5\"\r\nid=\"FNanchor_A_5\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_5\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_5\" id=\"Footnote_A_5\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_5\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e The\r\nReligious Aspect of Philosophy, pp. 157-162 (abridged).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis higher vision of an inner significance in what, until then,\r\nwe had realized only in the dead external way, often comes over a\r\nperson suddenly; and, when it does so, it makes an epoch in his\r\nhistory. As Emerson says, there is a depth in those moments that\r\nconstrains us to ascribe more reality to them than to all other\r\nexperiences. The passion of love will shake one like an explosion,\r\nor some act will awaken a remorseful compunction that hangs like a\r\ncloud over all one\u0027s later day.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis mystic sense of hidden meaning starts upon us often from\r\nnon-human natural things. I take this passage from \u0027Obermann,\u0027 a\r\nFrench novel that had some vogue in its day: \"Paris, March\r\n7.\u0026mdash;It was dark and rather cold. I was gloomy, and walked\r\nbecause I had nothing to do. I passed by some flowers placed\r\nbreast-high upon a wall. A jonquil in bloom was there. It is the\r\nstrongest expression of desire: it was the first perfume of the\r\nyear. I felt all the happiness destined for man. This unutterable\r\nharmony of souls, the phantom of the ideal world, arose in me\r\ncomplete. I never felt anything so great or so instantaneous. I\r\nknow not what shape, what analogy, what secret of relation it was\r\nthat made me see in this flower a limitless beauty…. I shall\r\nnever enclose in a conception this power, this immensity that\r\nnothing will express; this form that nothing will contain; this\r\nideal of a better world which one feels, but which it would seem\r\nthat nature has not made.\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_6\"\r\nid=\"FNanchor_A_6\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_6\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_6\" id=\"Footnote_A_6\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_6\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e De\r\nS\u0026eacute;nancour: Obermann, Lettre XXX.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWordsworth and Shelley are similarly full of this sense of a\r\nlimitless significance in natural things. In Wordsworth it was a\r\nsomewhat austere and moral significance,\u0026mdash;a \u0027lonely\r\ncheer.\u0027\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 0.5em;\"\u003e\"To every natural form, rock,\r\nfruit, or flower,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eEven the loose stones that cover\r\nthe highway,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eI gave a moral life: I saw them\r\nfeel\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eOr linked them to some feeling: the\r\ngreat mass\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eLay bedded in some quickening soul,\r\nand all\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eThat I beheld respired with inward\r\nmeaning.\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_7\" id=\"FNanchor_A_7\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#Footnote_A_7\" class=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_7\" id=\"Footnote_A_7\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_7\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e The\r\nPrelude, Book III.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Authentic tidings of invisible things!\" Just what this hidden\r\npresence in nature was, which Wordsworth so rapturously felt, and\r\nin the light of which he lived, tramping the hills for days\r\ntogether, the poet never could explain logically or in articulate\r\nconceptions. Yet to the reader who may himself have had gleaming\r\nmoments of a similar sort the verses in which Wordsworth simply\r\nproclaims the fact of them come with a heart-satisfying\r\nauthority:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 16em;\"\u003e\"Magnificent\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eThe morning rose, in memorable\r\npomp,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eGlorious as ere I had beheld. In\r\nfront\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eThe sea lay laughing at a distance;\r\nnear\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eThe solid mountains shone, bright\r\nas the clouds,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eGrain-tinctured, drenched in\r\nempyrean light;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eAnd in the meadows and the lower\r\ngrounds\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eWas all the sweetness of a common\r\ndawn,\u0026mdash;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eDews, vapors, and the melody of\r\nbirds,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eAnd laborers going forth to till\r\nthe fields.\"\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 0.5em;\"\u003e\"Ah! need I say, dear Friend,\r\nthat to the brim\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eMy heart was full; I made no vows,\r\nbut vows\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eWere then made for me; bond unknown\r\nto me\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eWas given, that I should be, else\r\nsinning greatly,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eA dedicated Spirit. On I\r\nwalked,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eIn thankful blessedness, which yet\r\nsurvives.\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_8\" id=\"FNanchor_A_8\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#Footnote_A_8\" class=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_8\" id=\"Footnote_A_8\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_8\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e The\r\nPrelude, Book IV.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs Wordsworth walked, filled with his strange inner joy,\r\nresponsive thus to the secret life of nature round about him, his\r\nrural neighbors, tightly and narrowly intent upon their own\r\naffairs, their crops and lambs and fences, must have thought him a\r\nvery insignificant and foolish personage. It surely never occurred\r\nto any one of them to wonder what was going on inside of \u003ci\u003ehim\u003c/i\u003e\r\nor what it might be worth. And yet that inner life of his carried\r\nthe burden of a significance that has fed the souls of others, and\r\nfills them to this day with inner joy.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eRichard Jefferies has written a remarkable autobiographic\r\ndocument entitled The Story of my Heart. It tells, in many pages,\r\nof the rapture with which in youth the sense of the life of nature\r\nfilled him. On a certain hill-top he says:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I was utterly alone with the sun and the earth. Lying down on\r\nthe grass, I spoke in my soul to the earth, the sun, the air, and\r\nthe distant sea, far beyond sight…. With all the intensity of\r\nfeeling which exalted me, all the intense communion I held with the\r\nearth, the sun and sky, the stars hidden by the light, with the\r\nocean,\u0026mdash;in no manner can the thrilling depth of these feelings\r\nbe written,\u0026mdash;with these I prayed as if they were the keys of\r\nan instrument…. The great sun, burning with light, the strong\r\nearth,\u0026mdash;dear earth,\u0026mdash;the warm sky, the pure air, the\r\nthought of ocean, the inexpressible beauty of all filled me with a\r\nrapture, an ecstasy, an inflatus. With this inflatus, too, I\r\nprayed…. The prayer, this soul-emotion, was in itself, not for an\r\nobject: it was a passion. I hid my face in the grass. I was wholly\r\nprostrated, I lost myself in the wrestle, I was rapt and carried\r\naway…. Had any shepherd accidentally seen me lying on the turf,\r\nhe would only have thought I was resting a few minutes. I made no\r\noutward show. Who could have imagined the whirlwind of passion that\r\nwas going on in me as I reclined there!\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_9\"\r\nid=\"FNanchor_A_9\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_9\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSurely, a worthless hour of life, when measured by the usual\r\nstandards of commercial value. Yet in what other \u003ci\u003ekind\u003c/i\u003e of\r\nvalue can the preciousness of any hour, made precious by any\r\nstandard, consist, if it consist not in feelings of excited\r\nsignificance like these, engendered in some one, by what the hour\r\ncontains?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eYet so blind and dead does the clamor of our own practical\r\ninterests make us to all other things, that it seems almost as if\r\nit were necessary to become worthless as a practical being, if one\r\nis to hope to attain to any breadth of insight into the impersonal\r\nworld of worths as such, to have any perception of life\u0027s meaning\r\non a large objective scale. Only your mystic, your dreamer, or your\r\ninsolvent tramp or loafer, can afford so sympathetic an occupation,\r\nan occupation which will change the usual standards of human value\r\nin the twinkling of an eye, giving to foolishness a place ahead of\r\npower, and laying low in a minute the distinctions which it takes a\r\nhard-working conventional man a lifetime to build up. You may be a\r\nprophet, at this rate; but you cannot be a worldly success.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_9\" id=\"Footnote_A_9\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_9\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e \u003ci\u003eOp.\r\ncit.\u003c/i\u003e, Boston, Roberts, 1883, pp. 5, 6.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWalt Whitman, for instance, is accounted by many of us a\r\ncontemporary prophet. He abolishes the usual human distinctions,\r\nbrings all conventionalisms into solution, and loves and celebrates\r\nhardly any human attributes save those elementary ones common to\r\nall members of the race. For this he becomes a sort of ideal tramp,\r\na rider on omnibus-tops and ferry-boats, and, considered either\r\npractically or academically, a worthless, unproductive being. His\r\nverses are but ejaculations\u0026mdash;things mostly without subject or\r\nverb, a succession of interjections on an immense scale. He felt\r\nthe human crowd as rapturously as Wordsworth felt the mountains,\r\nfelt it as an overpoweringly significant presence, simply to absorb\r\none\u0027s mind in which should be business sufficient and worthy to\r\nfill the days of a serious man. As he crosses Brooklyn ferry, this\r\nis what he feels:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eFlood-tide below me! I watch you,\r\nface to face;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eClouds of the west! sun there half\r\nan hour high! I see\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003eyou also face to face.\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eCrowds of men and women attired in\r\nthe usual costumes!\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ehow curious you are to\r\nme!\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eOn the ferry-boats, the hundreds\r\nand hundreds that cross,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ereturning home, are more curious to\r\nme than you suppose;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eAnd you that shall cross from shore\r\nto shore years hence,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003eare more to me, and more in my\r\nmeditations, than you\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003emight suppose.\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eOthers will enter the gates of the\r\nferry, and cross from\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003eshore to shore;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eOthers will watch the run of the\r\nflood-tide;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eOthers will see the shipping of\r\nManhattan north and west,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003eand the heights of Brooklyn to the\r\nsouth and east;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eOthers will see the islands large\r\nand small;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eFifty years hence, others will see\r\nthem as they cross, the\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003esun half an hour high.\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eA hundred years hence, or ever so\r\nmany hundred years\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ehence, others will see\r\nthem,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eWill enjoy the sunset, the pouring\r\nin of the flood-tide, the\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003efalling back to the sea of the\r\nebb-tide.\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eIt avails not, neither time or\r\nplace\u0026mdash;distance avails not.\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eJust as you feel when you look on\r\nthe river and sky, so I\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003efelt;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eJust as any of you is one of a\r\nliving crowd, I was one of a\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ecrowd;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eJust as you are refresh\u0027d by the\r\ngladness of the river and\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ethe bright flow, I was\r\nrefresh\u0027d;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eJust as you stand and lean on the\r\nrail, yet hurry with the\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003eswift current, I stood, yet was\r\nhurried;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eJust as you look on the numberless\r\nmasts of ships, and the\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ethick-stemmed pipes of steamboats,\r\nI looked.\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eI too many and many a time cross\u0027d\r\nthe river, the sun half\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ean hour high;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eI watched the Twelfth-month\r\nsea-gulls\u0026mdash;I saw them high in\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ethe air, with motionless wings,\r\noscillating their bodies,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eI saw how the glistening yellow lit\r\nup parts of their bodies,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003eand left the rest in strong\r\nshadow,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eI saw the slow-wheeling circles,\r\nand the gradual edging\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003etoward the south.\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eSaw the white sails of schooners\r\nand sloops, saw the ships\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003eat anchor,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eThe sailors at work in the rigging,\r\nor out astride the spars;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eThe scallop-edged waves in the\r\ntwilight, the ladled cups,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ethe frolicsome crests and\r\nglistening;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eThe stretch afar growing dimmer and\r\ndimmer, the gray\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003ewalls of the granite store-houses\r\nby the docks;\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eOn the neighboring shores, the\r\nfires from the foundry chimneys\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 2em;\"\u003eburning high … into the\r\nnight,\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eCasting their flicker of black …\r\ninto the clefts of streets.\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cspan style=\"margin-left: 1em;\"\u003eThese, and all else, were to me the\r\nsame as they are to you.\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_10\"\r\nid=\"FNanchor_A_10\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_10\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd so on, through the rest of a divinely beautiful poem. And,\r\nif you wish to see what this hoary loafer considered the most\r\nworthy way of profiting by life\u0027s heaven-sent opportunities, read\r\nthe delicious volume of his letters to a young car-conductor who\r\nhad become his friend:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_10\" id=\"Footnote_A_10\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_10\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e \u0027Crossing\r\nBrooklyn Ferry\u0027 (abridged).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cp class=\u0027blockquot\u0027 style=\"text-align:right\"\u003e\"NEW YORK, Oct. 9,\r\n1868.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp class=\u0027blockquot\u0027 style=\"text-align:left\"\u003e\"\u003ci\u003eDear\r\nPete\u003c/i\u003e,\u0026mdash;It is splendid here this forenoon\u0026mdash;bright and\r\ncool. I was out early taking a short walk by the river only two\r\nsquares from where I live…. Shall I tell you about [my life] just\r\nto fill up? I generally spend the forenoon in my room writing,\r\netc., then take a bath fix up and go out about twelve and loafe\r\nsomewhere or call on someone down town or on business, or perhaps\r\nif it is very pleasant and I feel like it ride a trip with some\r\ndriver friend on Broadway from 23rd Street to Bowling Green, three\r\nmiles each way. (Every day I find I have plenty to do, every hour\r\nis occupied with something.) You know it is a never ending\r\namusement and study and recreation for me to ride a couple of hours\r\non a pleasant afternoon on a Broadway stage in this way. You see\r\neverything as you pass, a sort of living, endless\r\npanorama\u0026mdash;shops and splendid buildings and great windows: on\r\nthe broad sidewalks crowds of women richly dressed continually\r\npassing, altogether different, superior in style and looks from any\r\nto be seen anywhere else\u0026mdash;in fact a perfect stream of\r\npeople\u0026mdash;men too dressed in high style, and plenty of\r\nforeigners\u0026mdash;and then in the streets the thick crowd of\r\ncarriages, stages, carts, hotel and private coaches, and in fact\r\nall sorts of vehicles and many first class teams, mile after mile,\r\nand the splendor of such a great street and so many tall,\r\nornamental, noble buildings many of them of white marble, and the\r\ngayety and motion on every side: you will not wonder how much\r\nattraction all this is on a fine day, to a great loafer like me,\r\nwho enjoys so much seeing the busy world move by him, and\r\nexhibiting itself for his amusement, while he takes it easy and\r\njust looks on and observes.\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_11\"\r\nid=\"FNanchor_A_11\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_11\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_11\" id=\"Footnote_A_11\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_11\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Calamus,\r\nBoston, 1897, pp. 41, 42.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTruly a futile way of passing the time, some of you may say, and\r\nnot altogether creditable to a grown-up man. And yet, from the\r\ndeepest point of view, who knows the more of truth, and who knows\r\nthe less,\u0026mdash;Whitman on his omnibus-top, full of the inner joy\r\nwith which the spectacle inspires him, or you, full of the disdain\r\nwhich the futility of his occupation excites?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen your ordinary Brooklynite or New Yorker, leading a life\r\nreplete with too much luxury, or tired and careworn about his\r\npersonal affairs, crosses the ferry or goes up Broadway, \u003ci\u003ehis\u003c/i\u003e\r\nfancy does not thus \u0027soar away into the colors of the sunset\u0027 as\r\ndid Whitman\u0027s, nor does he inwardly realize at all the indisputable\r\nfact that this world never did anywhere or at any time contain more\r\nof essential divinity, or of eternal meaning, than is embodied in\r\nthe fields of vision over which his eyes so carelessly pass. There\r\nis life; and there, a step away, is death. There is the only kind\r\nof beauty there ever was. There is the old human struggle and its\r\nfruits together. There is the text and the sermon, the real and the\r\nideal in one. But to the jaded and unquickened eye it is all dead\r\nand common, pure vulgarism, flatness, and disgust. \"Hech! it is a\r\nsad sight!\" says Carlyle, walking at night with some one who\r\nappeals to him to note the splendor of the stars. And that very\r\nrepetition of the scene to new generations of men in \u003ci\u003esecula\r\nseculorum\u003c/i\u003e, that eternal recurrence of the common order, which\r\nso fills a Whitman with mystic satisfaction, is to a Schopenhauer,\r\nwith the emotional an\u0026aelig;sthesia, the feeling of \u0027awful inner\r\nemptiness\u0027 from out of which he views it all, the chief ingredient\r\nof the tedium it instils. What is life on the largest scale, he\r\nasks, but the same recurrent inanities, the same dog barking, the\r\nsame fly buzzing, forevermore? Yet of the kind of fibre of which\r\nsuch inanities consist is the material woven of all the\r\nexcitements, joys, and meanings that ever were, or ever shall be,\r\nin this world.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo be rapt with satisfied attention, like Whitman, to the mere\r\nspectacle of the world\u0027s presence, is one way, and the most\r\nfundamental way, of confessing one\u0027s sense of its unfathomable\r\nsignificance and importance. But how can one attain to the feeling\r\nof the vital significance of an experience, if one have it not to\r\nbegin with? There is no receipt which one can follow. Being a\r\nsecret and a mystery, it often comes in mysteriously unexpected\r\nways. It blossoms sometimes from out of the very grave wherein we\r\nimagined that our happiness was buried. Benvenuto Cellini, after a\r\nlife all in the outer sunshine, made of adventures and artistic\r\nexcitements, suddenly finds himself cast into a dungeon in the\r\nCastle of San Angelo. The place is horrible. Rats and wet and mould\r\npossess it. His leg is broken and his teeth fall out, apparently\r\nwith scurvy. But his thoughts turn to God as they have never turned\r\nbefore. He gets a Bible, which he reads during the one hour in the\r\ntwenty-four in which a wandering ray of daylight penetrates his\r\ncavern. He has religious visions. He sings psalms to himself, and\r\ncomposes hymns. And thinking, on the last day of July, of the\r\nfestivities customary on the morrow in Rome, he says to himself:\r\n\"All these past years I celebrated this holiday with the vanities\r\nof the world: from this year henceforward I will do it with the\r\ndivinity of God. And then I said to myself, \u0027Oh, how much more\r\nhappy I am for this present life of mine than for all those things\r\nremembered!\u0027\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_12\" id=\"FNanchor_A_12\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#Footnote_A_12\" class=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_12\" id=\"Footnote_A_12\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_12\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Vita, lib.\r\n2, chap. iv.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut the great understander of these mysterious ebbs and flows is\r\nTolsto\u0026iuml;. They throb all through his novels. In his \u0027War and\r\nPeace,\u0027 the hero, Peter, is supposed to be the richest man in the\r\nRussian empire. During the French invasion he is taken prisoner,\r\nand dragged through much of the retreat. Cold, vermin, hunger, and\r\nevery form of misery assail him, the result being a revelation to\r\nhim of the real scale of life\u0027s values. \"Here only, and for the\r\nfirst time, he appreciated, because he was deprived of it, the\r\nhappiness of eating when he was hungry, of drinking when he was\r\nthirsty, of sleeping when he was sleepy, and of talking when he\r\nfelt the desire to exchange some words…. Later in life he always\r\nrecurred with joy to this month of captivity, and never failed to\r\nspeak with enthusiasm of the powerful and ineffaceable sensations,\r\nand especially of the moral calm which he had experienced at this\r\nepoch. When at daybreak, on the morrow of his imprisonment, he saw\r\n[I abridge here Tolsto\u0026iuml;\u0027s description] the mountains with\r\ntheir wooded slopes disappearing in the grayish mist; when he felt\r\nthe cool breeze caress him; when he saw the light drive away the\r\nvapors, and the sun rise majestically behind the clouds and\r\ncupolas, and the crosses, the dew, the distance, the river, sparkle\r\nin the splendid, cheerful rays,\u0026mdash;his heart overflowed with\r\nemotion. This emotion kept continually with him, and increased a\r\nhundred-fold as the difficulties of his situation grew graver….\r\nHe learnt that man is meant for happiness, and that this happiness\r\nis in him, in the satisfaction of the daily needs of existence, and\r\nthat unhappiness is the fatal result, not of our need, but of our\r\nabundance…. When calm reigned in the camp, and the embers paled,\r\nand little by little went out, the full moon had reached the\r\nzenith. The woods and the fields roundabout lay clearly visible;\r\nand, beyond the inundation of light which filled them, the view\r\nplunged into the limitless horizon. Then Peter cast his eyes upon\r\nthe firmament, filled at that hour with myriads of stars. \u0027All that\r\nis mine,\u0027 he thought. \u0027All that is in me, is me! And that is what\r\nthey think they have taken prisoner! That is what they have shut up\r\nin a cabin!\u0027 So he smiled, and turned in to sleep among his\r\ncomrades.\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_13\" id=\"FNanchor_A_13\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#Footnote_A_13\" class=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_13\" id=\"Footnote_A_13\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_13\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e La Guerre\r\net la Paix, Paris, 1884, vol. iii. pp. 268, 275, 316.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe occasion and the experience, then, are nothing. It all\r\ndepends on the capacity of the soul to be grasped, to have its\r\nlife-currents absorbed by what is given. \"Crossing a bare common,\"\r\nsays Emerson, \"in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky,\r\nwithout having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good\r\nfortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. I am glad to the\r\nbrink of fear.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eLife is always worth living, if one have such responsive\r\nsensibilities. But we of the highly educated classes (so called)\r\nhave most of us got far, far away from Nature. We are trained to\r\nseek the choice, the rare, the exquisite exclusively, and to\r\noverlook the common. We are stuffed with abstract conceptions, and\r\nglib with verbalities and verbosities; and in the culture of these\r\nhigher functions the peculiar sources of joy connected with our\r\nsimpler functions often dry up, and we grow stone-blind and\r\ninsensible to life\u0027s more elementary and general goods and\r\njoys.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe remedy under such conditions is to descend to a more\r\nprofound and primitive level. To be imprisoned or shipwrecked or\r\nforced into the army would permanently show the good of life to\r\nmany an over-educated pessimist. Living in the open air and on the\r\nground, the lop-sided beam of the balance slowly rises to the level\r\nline; and the over-sensibilities and insensibilities even\r\nthemselves out. The good of all the artificial schemes and fevers\r\nfades and pales; and that of seeing, smelling, tasting, sleeping,\r\nand daring and doing with one\u0027s body, grows and grows. The savages\r\nand children of nature, to whom we deem ourselves so much superior,\r\ncertainly are alive where we are often dead, along these lines;\r\nand, could they write as glibly as we do, they would read us\r\nimpressive lectures on our impatience for improvement and on our\r\nblindness to the fundamental static goods of life. \"Ah! my\r\nbrother,\" said a chieftain to his white guest, \"thou wilt never\r\nknow the happiness of both thinking of nothing and doing nothing.\r\nThis, next to sleep, is the most enchanting of all things. Thus we\r\nwere before our birth, and thus we shall be after death. Thy\r\npeople,… when they have finished reaping one field, they begin to\r\nplough another; and, if the day were not enough, I have seen them\r\nplough by moonlight. What is their life to ours,\u0026mdash;the life\r\nthat is as naught to them? Blind that they are, they lose it all!\r\nBut we live in the present.\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_14\"\r\nid=\"FNanchor_A_14\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_14\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_14\" id=\"Footnote_A_14\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_14\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Quoted by\r\nLotze, Microcosmus, English translation, vol. ii. p. 240.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe intense interest that life can assume when brought down to\r\nthe non-thinking level, the level of pure sensorial perception, has\r\nbeen beautifully described by a man who \u003ci\u003ecan\u003c/i\u003e write,\u0026mdash;Mr.\r\nW.H. Hudson, in his volume, \"Idle Days in Patagonia.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I spent the greater part of one winter,\" says this admirable\r\nauthor, \"at a point on the Rio Negro, seventy or eighty miles from\r\nthe sea.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e…\"It was my custom to go out every morning on horseback with\r\nmy gun, and, followed by one dog, to ride away from the valley; and\r\nno sooner would I climb the terrace, and plunge into the gray,\r\nuniversal thicket, than I would find myself as completely alone as\r\nif five hundred instead of only five miles separated me from the\r\nvalley and river. So wild and solitary and remote seemed that gray\r\nwaste, stretching away into infinitude, a waste untrodden by man,\r\nand where the wild animals are so few that they have made no\r\ndiscoverable path in the wilderness of thorns…. Not once nor\r\ntwice nor thrice, but day after day I returned to this solitude,\r\ngoing to it in the morning as if to attend a festival, and leaving\r\nit only when hunger and thirst and the westering sun compelled me.\r\nAnd yet I had no object in going,\u0026mdash;no motive which could be\r\nput into words; for, although I carried a gun, there was nothing to\r\nshoot,\u0026mdash;the shooting was all left behind in the valley….\r\nSometimes I would pass a whole day without seeing one mammal, and\r\nperhaps not more than a dozen birds of any size. The weather at\r\nthat time was cheerless, generally with a gray film of cloud spread\r\nover the sky, and a bleak wind, often cold enough to make my\r\nbridle-hand quite numb…. At a slow pace, which would have seemed\r\nintolerable under other circumstances, I would ride about for hours\r\ntogether at a stretch. On arriving at a hill, I would slowly ride\r\nto its summit, and stand there to survey the prospect. On every\r\nside it stretched away in great undulations, wild and irregular.\r\nHow gray it all was! Hardly less so near at hand than on the\r\nhaze-wrapped horizon where the hills were dim and the outline\r\nobscured by distance. Descending from my outlook, I would take up\r\nmy aimless wanderings again, and visit other elevations to gaze on\r\nthe same landscape from another point; and so on for hours. And at\r\nnoon I would dismount, and sit or lie on my folded poncho for an\r\nhour or longer. One day in these rambles I discovered a small grove\r\ncomposed of twenty or thirty trees, growing at a convenient\r\ndistance apart, that had evidently been resorted to by a herd of\r\ndeer or other wild animals. This grove was on a hill differing in\r\nshape from other hills in its neighborhood; and, after a time, I\r\nmade a point of finding and using it as a resting-place every day\r\nat noon. I did not ask myself why I made choice of that one spot,\r\nsometimes going out of my way to sit there, instead of sitting down\r\nunder any one of the millions of trees and bushes on any other\r\nhillside. I thought nothing about it, but acted unconsciously. Only\r\nafterward it seemed to me that, after having rested there once,\r\neach time I wished to rest again, the wish came associated with the\r\nimage of that particular clump of trees, with polished stems and\r\nclean bed of sand beneath; and in a short time I formed a habit of\r\nreturning, animal like, to repose at that same spot.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"It was, perhaps, a mistake to say that I would sit down and\r\nrest, since I was never tired; and yet, without being tired, that\r\nnoon-day pause, during which I sat for an hour without moving, was\r\nstrangely grateful. All day there would be no sound, not even the\r\nrustling of a leaf. One day, while \u003ci\u003elistening\u003c/i\u003e to the silence,\r\nit occurred to my mind to wonder what the effect would be if I were\r\nto shout aloud. This seemed at the time a horrible suggestion,\r\nwhich almost made me shudder. But during those solitary days it was\r\na rare thing for any thought to cross my mind. In the state of mind\r\nI was in, thought had become impossible. My state was one of\r\n\u003ci\u003esuspense\u003c/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003ewatchfulness\u003c/i\u003e; yet I had no expectation\r\nof meeting an adventure, and felt as free from apprehension as I\r\nfeel now while sitting in a room in London. The state seemed\r\nfamiliar rather than strange, and accompanied by a strong feeling\r\nof elation; and I did not know that something had come between me\r\nand my intellect until I returned to my former self,\u0026mdash;to\r\nthinking, and the old insipid existence [again].\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"I had undoubtedly \u003ci\u003egone back\u003c/i\u003e; and that state of intense\r\nwatchfulness or alertness, rather, with suspension of the higher\r\nintellectual faculties, represented the mental state of the pure\r\nsavage. He thinks little, reasons little, having a surer guide in\r\nhis [mere sensory perceptions]. He is in perfect harmony with\r\nnature, and is nearly on a level, mentally, with the wild animals\r\nhe preys on, and which in their turn sometimes prey on him.\"\u003ca\r\nname=\"FNanchor_A_15\" id=\"FNanchor_A_15\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_15\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_15\" id=\"Footnote_A_15\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_15\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e \u003ci\u003eOp.\r\ncit.\u003c/i\u003e, pp. 210-222 (abridged).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor the spectator, such hours as Mr. Hudson writes of form a\r\nmere tale of emptiness, in which nothing happens, nothing is\r\ngained, and there is nothing to describe. They are meaningless and\r\nvacant tracts of time. To him who feels their inner secret, they\r\ntingle with an importance that unutterably vouches for itself. I am\r\nsorry for the boy or girl, or man or woman, who has never been\r\ntouched by the spell of this mysterious sensorial life, with its\r\nirrationality, if so you like to call it, but its vigilance and its\r\nsupreme felicity. The holidays of life are its most vitally\r\nsignificant portions, because they are, or at least should be,\r\ncovered with just this kind of magically irresponsible spell.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd now what is the result of all these considerations and\r\nquotations? It is negative in one sense, but positive in another.\r\nIt absolutely forbids us to be forward in pronouncing on the\r\nmeaninglessness of forms of existence other than our own; and it\r\ncommands us to tolerate, respect, and indulge those whom we see\r\nharmlessly interested and happy in their own ways, however\r\nunintelligible these may be to us. Hands off: neither the whole of\r\ntruth nor the whole of good is revealed to any single observer,\r\nalthough each observer gains a partial superiority of insight from\r\nthe peculiar position in which he stands. Even prisons and\r\nsick-rooms have their special revelations. It is enough to ask of\r\neach of us that he should be faithful to his own opportunities and\r\nmake the most of his own blessings, without presuming to regulate\r\nthe rest of the vast field.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003chr style=\"width: 65%;\" /\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca name=\"III__WHAT_MAKES_A_LIFE_SIGNIFICANT\"\r\nid=\"III__WHAT_MAKES_A_LIFE_SIGNIFICANT\" /\u003eIII. WHAT MAKES A LIFE\r\nSIGNIFICANT\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn my previous talk, \u0027On a Certain Blindness,\u0027 I tried to make\r\nyou feel how soaked and shot-through life is with values and\r\nmeanings which we fail to realize because of our external and\r\ninsensible point of view. The meanings are there for the others,\r\nbut they are not there for us. There lies more than a mere interest\r\nof curious speculation in understanding this. It has the most\r\ntremendous practical importance. I wish that I could convince you\r\nof it as I feel it myself. It is the basis of all our tolerance,\r\nsocial, religious, and political. The forgetting of it lies at the\r\nroot of every stupid and sanguinary mistake that rulers over\r\nsubject-peoples make. The first thing to learn in intercourse with\r\nothers is non-interference with their own peculiar ways of being\r\nhappy, provided those ways do not assume to interfere by violence\r\nwith ours. No one has insight into all the ideals. No one should\r\npresume to judge them off-hand. The pretension to dogmatize about\r\nthem in each other is the root of most human injustices and\r\ncruelties, and the trait in human character most likely to make the\r\nangels weep.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eEvery Jack sees in his own particular Jill charms and\r\nperfections to the enchantment of which we stolid onlookers are\r\nstone-cold. And which has the superior view of the absolute truth,\r\nhe or we? Which has the more vital insight into the nature of\r\nJill\u0027s existence, as a fact? Is he in excess, being in this matter\r\na maniac? or are we in defect, being victims of a pathological\r\nan\u0026aelig;sthesia as regards Jill\u0027s magical importance? Surely the\r\nlatter; surely to Jack are the profounder truths revealed; surely\r\npoor Jill\u0027s palpitating little life-throbs \u003ci\u003eare\u003c/i\u003e among the\r\nwonders of creation, \u003ci\u003eare\u003c/i\u003e worthy of this sympathetic\r\ninterest; and it is to our shame that the rest of us cannot feel\r\nlike Jack. For Jack realizes Jill concretely, and we do not. He\r\nstruggles toward a union with her inner life, divining her\r\nfeelings, anticipating her desires, understanding her limits as\r\nmanfully as he can, and yet inadequately, too; for he is also\r\nafflicted with some blindness, even here. Whilst we, dead clods\r\nthat we are, do not even seek after these things, but are contented\r\nthat that portion of eternal fact named Jill should be for us as if\r\nit were not. Jill, who knows her inner life, knows that Jack\u0027s way\r\nof taking it\u0026mdash;so importantly\u0026mdash;is the true and serious\r\nway; and she responds to the truth in him by taking him truly and\r\nseriously, too. May the ancient blindness never wrap its clouds\r\nabout either of them again! Where would any of \u003ci\u003eus\u003c/i\u003e be, were\r\nthere no one willing to know us as we really are or ready to repay\r\nus for \u003ci\u003eour\u003c/i\u003e insight by making recognizant return? We ought,\r\nall of us, to realize each other in this intense, pathetic, and\r\nimportant way.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf you say that this is absurd, and that we cannot be in love\r\nwith everyone at once, I merely point out to you that, as a matter\r\nof fact, certain persons do exist with an enormous capacity for\r\nfriendship and for taking delight in other people\u0027s lives; and that\r\nsuch persons know more of truth than if their hearts were not so\r\nbig. The vice of ordinary Jack and Jill affection is not its\r\nintensity, but its exclusions and its jealousies. Leave those out,\r\nand you see that the ideal I am holding up before you, however\r\nimpracticable to-day, yet contains nothing intrinsically\r\nabsurd.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have unquestionably a great cloud-bank of ancestral blindness\r\nweighing down upon us, only transiently riven here and there by\r\nfitful revelations of the truth. It is vain to hope for this state\r\nof things to alter much. Our inner secrets must remain for the most\r\npart impenetrable by others, for beings as essentially practical as\r\nwe are are necessarily short of sight. But, if we cannot gain much\r\npositive insight into one another, cannot we at least use our sense\r\nof our own blindness to make us more cautious in going over the\r\ndark places? Cannot we escape some of those hideous ancestral\r\nintolerances and cruelties, and positive reversals of the\r\ntruth?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor the remainder of this hour I invite you to seek with me some\r\nprinciple to make our tolerance less chaotic. And, as I began my\r\nprevious lecture by a personal reminiscence, I am going to ask your\r\nindulgence for a similar bit of egotism now.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA few summers ago I spent a happy week at the famous Assembly\r\nGrounds on the borders of Chautauqua Lake. The moment one treads\r\nthat sacred enclosure, one feels one\u0027s self in an atmosphere of\r\nsuccess. Sobriety and industry, intelligence and goodness,\r\norderliness and ideality, prosperity and cheerfulness, pervade the\r\nair. It is a serious and studious picnic on a gigantic scale. Here\r\nyou have a town of many thousands of inhabitants, beautifully laid\r\nout in the forest and drained, and equipped with means for\r\nsatisfying all the necessary lower and most of the superfluous\r\nhigher wants of man. You have a first-class college in full blast.\r\nYou have magnificent music\u0026mdash;a chorus of seven hundred voices,\r\nwith possibly the most perfect open-air auditorium in the world.\r\nYou have every sort of athletic exercise from sailing, rowing,\r\nswimming, bicycling, to the ball-field and the more artificial\r\ndoings which the gymnasium affords. You have kindergartens and\r\nmodel secondary schools. You have general religious services and\r\nspecial club-houses for the several sects. You have perpetually\r\nrunning soda-water fountains, and daily popular lectures by\r\ndistinguished men. You have the best of company, and yet no effort.\r\nYou have no zymotic diseases, no poverty, no drunkenness, no crime,\r\nno police. You have culture, you have kindness, you have cheapness,\r\nyou have equality, you have the best fruits of what mankind has\r\nfought and bled and striven for tinder the name of civilization for\r\ncenturies. You have, in short, a foretaste of what human society\r\nmight be, were it all in the light, with no suffering and no dark\r\ncorners.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI went in curiosity for a day. I stayed for a week, held\r\nspell-bound by the charm and ease of everything, by the\r\nmiddle-class paradise, without a sin, without a victim, without a\r\nblot, without a tear.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd yet what was my own astonishment, on emerging into the dark\r\nand wicked world again, to catch myself quite unexpectedly and\r\ninvoluntarily saying: \"Ouf! what a relief! Now for something\r\nprimordial and savage, even though it were as bad as an Armenian\r\nmassacre, to set the balance straight again. This order is too\r\ntame, this culture too second-rate, this goodness too uninspiring.\r\nThis human drama without a villain or a pang; this community so\r\nrefined that ice-cream soda-water is the utmost offering it can\r\nmake to the brute animal in man; this city simmering in the tepid\r\nlakeside sun; this atrocious harmlessness of all things,\u0026mdash;I\r\ncannot abide with them. Let me take my chances again in the big\r\noutside worldly wilderness with all its sins and sufferings. There\r\nare the heights and depths, the precipices and the steep ideals,\r\nthe gleams of the awful and the infinite; and there is more hope\r\nand help a thousand times than in this dead level and quintessence\r\nof every mediocrity.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch was the sudden right-about-face performed for me by my\r\nlawless fancy! There had been spread before me the\r\nrealization\u0026mdash;on a small, sample scale of course\u0026mdash;of all\r\nthe ideals for which our civilization has been striving: security,\r\nintelligence, humanity, and order; and here was the instinctive\r\nhostile reaction, not of the natural man, but of a so-called\r\ncultivated man upon such a Utopia. There seemed thus to be a\r\nself-contradiction and paradox somewhere, which I, as a professor\r\ndrawing a full salary, was in duty bound to unravel and explain, if\r\nI could.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo I meditated. And, first of all, I asked myself what the thing\r\nwas that was so lacking in this Sabbatical city, and the lack of\r\nwhich kept one forever falling short of the higher sort of\r\ncontentment. And I soon recognized that it was the element that\r\ngives to the wicked outer world all its moral style, expressiveness\r\nand picturesqueness,\u0026mdash;the element of precipitousness, so to\r\ncall it, of strength and strenuousness, intensity and danger.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhat excites and interests the looker-on at life, what the\r\nromances and the statues celebrate and the grim civic monuments\r\nremind us of, is the everlasting battle of the powers of light with\r\nthose of darkness; with heroism, reduced to its bare chance, yet\r\never and anon snatching victory from the jaws of death. But in this\r\nunspeakable Chautauqua there was no potentiality of death in sight\r\nanywhere, and no point of the compass visible from which danger\r\nmight possibly appear. The ideal was so completely victorious\r\nalready that no sign of any previous battle remained, the place\r\njust resting on its oars. But what our human emotions seem to\r\nrequire is the sight of the struggle going on. The moment the\r\nfruits are being merely eaten, things become ignoble. Sweat and\r\neffort, human nature strained to its uttermost and on the rack, yet\r\ngetting through alive, and then turning its back on its success to\r\npursue another more rare and arduous still\u0026mdash;this is the sort\r\nof thing the presence of which inspires us, and the reality of\r\nwhich it seems to be the function of all the higher forms of\r\nliterature and fine art to bring home to us and suggest. At\r\nChautauqua there were no racks, even in the place\u0027s historical\r\nmuseum; and no sweat, except possibly the gentle moisture on the\r\nbrow of some lecturer, or on the sides of some player in the\r\nball-field.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch absence of human nature \u003ci\u003ein extremis\u003c/i\u003e anywhere seemed,\r\nthen, a sufficient explanation for Chautauqua\u0027s flatness and lack\r\nof zest.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut was not this a paradox well calculated to fill one with\r\ndismay? It looks indeed, thought I, as if the romantic idealists\r\nwith their pessimism about our civilization were, after all, quite\r\nright. An irremediable flatness is coming over the world.\r\nBourgeoisie and mediocrity, church sociables and teachers\u0027\r\nconventions, are taking the place of the old heights and depths and\r\nromantic chiaroscuro. And, to get human life in its wild intensity,\r\nwe must in future turn more and more away from the actual, and\r\nforget it, if we can, in the romancer\u0027s or the poet\u0027s pages. The\r\nwhole world, delightful and sinful as it may still appear for a\r\nmoment to one just escaped from the Chautauquan enclosure, is\r\nnevertheless obeying more and more just those ideals that are sure\r\nto make of it in the end a mere Chautauqua Assembly on an enormous\r\nscale. \u003ci\u003eWas im Gesang soll leben muss im Leben untergehn\u003c/i\u003e.\r\nEven now, in our own country, correctness, fairness, and compromise\r\nfor every small advantage are crowding out all other qualities. The\r\nhigher heroisms and the old rare flavors are passing out of life.\u003ca\r\nname=\"FNanchor_A_16\" id=\"FNanchor_A_16\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_16\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_16\" id=\"Footnote_A_16\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_16\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e This\r\naddress was composed before the Cuban and Philippine wars. Such\r\noutbursts of the passion of mastery are, however, only episodes in\r\na social process which in the long run seems everywhere tending\r\ntoward the Chautauquan ideals.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWith these thoughts in my mind, I was speeding with the train\r\ntoward Buffalo, when, near that city, the sight of a workman doing\r\nsomething on the dizzy edge of a sky-scaling iron construction\r\nbrought me to my senses very suddenly. And now I perceived, by a\r\nflash of insight, that I had been steeping myself in pure ancestral\r\nblindness, and looking at life with the eyes of a remote spectator.\r\nWishing for heroism and the spectacle of human nature on the rack,\r\nI had never noticed the great fields of heroism lying round about\r\nme, I had failed to see it present and alive. I could only think of\r\nit as dead and embalmed, labelled and costumed, as it is in the\r\npages of romance. And yet there it was before me in the daily lives\r\nof the laboring classes. Not in clanging fights and desperate\r\nmarches only is heroism to be looked for, but on every railway\r\nbridge and fire-proof building that is going up to-day. On\r\nfreight-trains, on the decks of vessels, in cattle-yards and mines,\r\non lumber-rafts, among the firemen and the policemen, the demand\r\nfor courage is incessant; and the supply never fails. There, every\r\nday of the year somewhere, is human nature \u003ci\u003ein extremis\u003c/i\u003e for\r\nyou. And wherever a scythe, an axe, a pick, or a shovel is wielded,\r\nyou have it sweating and aching and with its powers of patient\r\nendurance racked to the utmost under the length of hours of the\r\nstrain.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs I awoke to all this unidealized heroic life around me, the\r\nscales seemed to fall from my eyes; and a wave of sympathy greater\r\nthan anything I had ever before felt with the common life of common\r\nmen began to fill my soul. It began to seem as if virtue with horny\r\nhands and dirty skin were the only virtue genuine and vital enough\r\nto take account of. Every other virtue poses; none is absolutely\r\nunconscious and simple, and unexpectant of decoration or\r\nrecognition, like this. These are our soldiers, thought I, these\r\nour sustainers, these the very parents of our life.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eMany years ago, when in Vienna, I had had a similar feeling of\r\nawe and reverence in looking at the peasant-women, in from the\r\ncountry on their business at the market for the day. Old hags many\r\nof them were, dried and brown and wrinkled, kerchiefed and\r\nshort-petticoated, with thick wool stockings on their bony shanks,\r\nstumping through the glittering thoroughfares, looking neither to\r\nthe right nor the left, bent on duty, envying nothing,\r\nhumble-hearted, remote;\u0026mdash;and yet at bottom, when you came to\r\nthink of it, bearing the whole fabric of the splendors and\r\ncorruptions of that city on their laborious backs. For where would\r\nany of it have been without their unremitting, unrewarded labor in\r\nthe fields? And so with us: not to our generals and poets, I\r\nthought, but to the Italian and Hungarian laborers in the Subway,\r\nrather, ought the monuments of gratitude and reverence of a city\r\nlike Boston to be reared.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf any of you have been readers of Tolsto\u0026iuml;, you will see\r\nthat I passed into a vein of feeling similar to his, with its\r\nabhorrence of all that conventionally passes for distinguished, and\r\nits exclusive deification of the bravery, patience, kindliness, and\r\ndumbness of the unconscious natural man.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhere now is \u003ci\u003eour\u003c/i\u003e Tolsto\u0026iuml;, I said, to bring the truth\r\nof all this home to our American bosoms, fill us with a better\r\ninsight, and wean us away from that spurious literary romanticism\r\non which our wretched culture\u0026mdash;as it calls itself\u0026mdash;is\r\nfed? Divinity lies all about us, and culture is too hidebound to\r\neven suspect the fact. Could a Howells or a Kipling be enlisted in\r\nthis mission? or are they still too deep in the ancestral\r\nblindness, and not humane enough for the inner joy and meaning of\r\nthe laborer\u0027s existence to be really revealed? Must we wait for\r\nsome one born and bred and living as a laborer himself, but who, by\r\ngrace of Heaven, shall also find a literary voice?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd there I rested on that day, with a sense of widening of\r\nvision, and with what it is surely fair to call an increase of\r\nreligious insight into life. In God\u0027s eyes the differences of\r\nsocial position, of intellect, of culture, of cleanliness, of\r\ndress, which different men exhibit, and all the other rarities and\r\nexceptions on which they so fantastically pin their pride, must be\r\nso small as practically quite to vanish; and all that should remain\r\nis the common fact that here we are, a countless multitude of\r\nvessels of life, each of us pent in to peculiar difficulties, with\r\nwhich we must severally struggle by using whatever of fortitude and\r\ngoodness we can summon up. The exercise of the courage, patience,\r\nand kindness, must be the significant portion of the whole\r\nbusiness; and the distinctions of position can only be a manner of\r\ndiversifying the phenomenal surface upon which these underground\r\nvirtues may manifest their effects. At this rate, the deepest human\r\nlife is everywhere, is eternal. And, if any human attributes exist\r\nonly in particular individuals, they must belong to the mere\r\ntrapping and decoration of the surface-show.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThus are men\u0027s lives levelled up as well as levelled\r\ndown,\u0026mdash;levelled up in their common inner meaning, levelled\r\ndown in their outer gloriousness and show. Yet always, we must\r\nconfess, this levelling insight tends to be obscured again; and\r\nalways the ancestral blindness returns and wraps us up, so that we\r\nend once more by thinking that creation can be for no other purpose\r\nthan to develop remarkable situations and conventional distinctions\r\nand merits. And then always some new leveller in the shape of a\r\nreligious prophet has to arise\u0026mdash;the Buddha, the Christ, or\r\nsome Saint Francis, some Rousseau or Tolsto\u0026iuml;\u0026mdash;to redispel\r\nour blindness. Yet, little by little, there comes some stable gain;\r\nfor the world does get more humane, and the religion of democracy\r\ntends toward permanent increase.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis, as I said, became for a time my conviction, and gave me\r\ngreat content. I have put the matter into the form of a personal\r\nreminiscence, so that I might lead you into it more directly and\r\ncompletely, and so save time. But now I am going to discuss the\r\nrest of it with you in a more impersonal way.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTolsto\u0026iuml;\u0027s levelling philosophy began long before he had the\r\ncrisis of melancholy commemorated in that wonderful document of his\r\nentitled \u0027My Confession,\u0027 which led the way to his more\r\nspecifically religious works. In his masterpiece \u0027War and\r\nPeace,\u0027\u0026mdash;assuredly the greatest of human novels,\u0026mdash;the\r\nr\u0026ocirc;le of the spiritual hero is given to a poor little soldier\r\nnamed Karata\u0026iuml;eff, so helpful, so cheerful, and so devout that,\r\nin spite of his ignorance and filthiness, the sight of him opens\r\nthe heavens, which have been closed, to the mind of the principal\r\ncharacter of the book; and his example evidently is meant by\r\nTolsto\u0026iuml; to let God into the world again for the reader. Poor\r\nlittle Karata\u0026iuml;eff is taken prisoner by the French; and, when\r\ntoo exhausted by hardship and fever to march, is shot as other\r\nprisoners were in the famous retreat from Moscow. The last view one\r\ngets of him is his little figure leaning against a white\r\nbirch-tree, and uncomplainingly awaiting the end.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"The more,\" writes Tolsto\u0026iuml; in the work \u0027My Confession,\u0027\r\n\"the more I examined the life of these laboring folks, the more\r\npersuaded I became that they veritably have faith, and get from it\r\nalone the sense and the possibility of life…. Contrariwise to\r\nthose of our own class, who protest against destiny and grow\r\nindignant at its rigor, these people receive maladies and\r\nmisfortunes without revolt, without opposition, and with a firm and\r\ntranquil confidence that all had to be like that, could not be\r\notherwise, and that it is all right so…. The more we live by our\r\nintellect, the less we understand the meaning of life. We see only\r\na cruel jest in suffering and death, whereas these people live,\r\nsuffer, and draw near to death with tranquillity, and oftener than\r\nnot with joy…. There are enormous multitudes of them happy with\r\nthe most perfect happiness, although deprived of what for us is the\r\nsole good of life. Those who understand life\u0027s meaning, and know\r\nhow to live and die thus, are to be counted not by twos, threes,\r\ntens, but by hundreds, thousands, millions. They labor quietly,\r\nendure privations and pains, live and die, and throughout\r\neverything see the good without seeing the vanity. I had to love\r\nthese people. The more I entered into their life, the more I loved\r\nthem; and the more it became possible for me to live, too. It came\r\nabout not only that the life of our society, of the learned and of\r\nthe rich, disgusted me\u0026mdash;more than that, it lost all semblance\r\nof meaning in my eyes. All our actions, our deliberations, our\r\nsciences, our arts, all appeared to me with a new significance. I\r\nunderstood that these things might be charming pastimes, but that\r\none need seek in them no depth, whereas the life of the\r\nhard-working populace, of that multitude of human beings who really\r\ncontribute to existence, appeared to me in its true light. I\r\nunderstood that there veritably is life, that the meaning which\r\nlife there receives is the truth; and I accepted it.\"\u003ca\r\nname=\"FNanchor_A_17\" id=\"FNanchor_A_17\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_17\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn a similar way does Stevenson appeal to our piety toward the\r\nelemental virtue of mankind.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"What a wonderful thing,\" he writes,\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_B_18\"\r\nid=\"FNanchor_B_18\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_B_18\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[B]\u003c/a\u003e \"is this Man! How surprising are his\r\nattributes! Poor soul, here for so little, cast among so many\r\nhardships, savagely surrounded, savagely descended, irremediably\r\ncondemned to prey upon his fellow-lives,\u0026mdash;who should have\r\nblamed him, had he been of a piece with his destiny and a being\r\nmerely barbarous?… [Yet] it matters not where we look, under\r\nwhat climate we observe him, in what stage of society, in what\r\ndepth of ignorance, burdened with what erroneous morality; in ships\r\nat sea, a man inured to hardship and vile pleasures, his brightest\r\nhope a fiddle in a tavern, and a bedizened trull who sells herself\r\nto rob him, and he, for all that, simple, innocent, cheerful,\r\nkindly like a child, constant to toil, brave to drown, for\r\nothers;… in the slums of cities, moving among indifferent\r\nmillions to mechanical employments, without hope of change in the\r\nfuture, with scarce a pleasure in the present, and yet true to\r\nhis virtues, honest up to his lights, kind to his neighbors,\r\ntempted perhaps in vain by the bright gin-palace,… often repaying\r\nthe world\u0027s scorn with service, often standing firm upon a\r\nscruple;… everywhere some virtue cherished or affected, everywhere\r\nsome decency of thought and courage, everywhere the ensign of man\u0027s\r\nineffectual goodness,\u0026mdash;ah! if I could show you this! If I\r\ncould show you these men and women all the world over, in every\r\nstage of history, under every abuse of error, under every\r\ncircumstance of failure, without hope, without help, without\r\nthanks, still obscurely fighting the lost fight of virtue, still\r\nclinging to some rag of honor, the poor jewel of their souls.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_17\" id=\"Footnote_A_17\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_17\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e My\r\nConfession, X. (condensed).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_B_18\" id=\"Footnote_B_18\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_B_18\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[B]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Across the\r\nPlains: \"Pulvis et Umbra\" (abridged).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAll this is as true as it is splendid, and terribly do we need\r\nour Tolsto\u0026iuml;s and Stevensons to keep our sense for it alive.\r\nYet you remember the Irishman who, when asked, \"Is not one man as\r\ngood as another?\" replied, \"Yes; and a great deal better, too!\"\r\nSimilarly (it seems to me) does Tolsto\u0026iuml; overcorrect our social\r\nprejudices, when he makes his love of the peasant so exclusive, and\r\nhardens his heart toward the educated man as absolutely as he does.\r\nGrant that at Chautauqua there was little moral effort, little\r\nsweat or muscular strain in view. Still, deep down in the souls of\r\nthe participants we may be sure that something of the sort was hid,\r\nsome inner stress, some vital virtue not found wanting when\r\nrequired. And, after all, the question recurs, and forces itself\r\nupon us, Is it so certain that the surroundings and circumstances\r\nof the virtue do make so little difference in the importance of the\r\nresult? Is the functional utility, the worth to the universe of a\r\ncertain definite amount of courage, kindliness, and patience, no\r\ngreater if the possessor of these virtues is in an educated\r\nsituation, working out far-reaching tasks, than if he be an\r\nilliterate nobody, hewing wood and drawing water, just to keep\r\nhimself alive? Tolsto\u0026iuml;\u0027s philosophy, deeply enlightening\r\nthough it certainly is, remains a false abstraction. It savors too\r\nmuch of that Oriental pessimism and nihilism of his, which declares\r\nthe whole phenomenal world and its facts and their distinctions to\r\nbe a cunning fraud.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eA mere bare fraud is just what our Western common sense will\r\nnever believe the phenomenal world to be. It admits fully that the\r\ninner joys and virtues are the \u003ci\u003eessential\u003c/i\u003e part of life\u0027s\r\nbusiness, but it is sure that \u003ci\u003esome\u003c/i\u003e positive part is also\r\nplayed by the adjuncts of the show. If it is idiotic in romanticism\r\nto recognize the heroic only when it sees it labelled and\r\ndressed-up in books, it is really just as idiotic to see it only in\r\nthe dirty boots and sweaty shirt of some one in the fields. It is\r\nwith us really under every disguise: at Chautauqua; here in your\r\ncollege; in the stock-yards and on the freight-trains; and in the\r\nczar of Russia\u0027s court. But, instinctively, we make a combination\r\nof two things in judging the total significance of a human being.\r\nWe feel it to be some sort of a product (if such a product only\r\ncould be calculated) of his inner virtue \u003ci\u003eand\u003c/i\u003e his outer\r\nplace,\u0026mdash;neither singly taken, but both conjoined. If the outer\r\ndifferences had no meaning for life, why indeed should all this\r\nimmense variety of them exist? They \u003ci\u003emust\u003c/i\u003e be significant\r\nelements of the world as well.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eJust test Tolsto\u0026iuml;\u0027s deification of the mere manual laborer\r\nby the facts. This is what Mr. Walter Wyckoff, after working as an\r\nunskilled laborer in the demolition of some buildings at West\r\nPoint, writes of the spiritual condition of the class of men to\r\nwhich he temporarily chose to belong:\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"The salient features of our condition are plain enough. We are\r\ngrown men, and are without a trade. In the labor-market we stand\r\nready to sell to the highest bidder our mere muscular strength for\r\nso many hours each day. We are thus in the lowest grade of labor.\r\nAnd, selling our muscular strength in the open market for what it\r\nwill bring, we sell it under peculiar conditions. It is all the\r\ncapital that we have. We have no reserve means of subsistence, and\r\ncannot, therefore, stand off for a \u0027reserve price.\u0027 We sell under\r\nthe necessity of satisfying imminent hunger. Broadly speaking, we\r\nmust sell our labor or starve; and, as hunger is a matter of a few\r\nhours, and we have no other way of meeting this need, we must sell\r\nat once for what the market offers for our labor.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"Our employer is buying labor in a dear market, and he will\r\ncertainly get from us as much work as he can at the price. The\r\ngang-boss is secured for this purpose, and thoroughly does he know\r\nhis business. He has sole command of us. He never saw us before,\r\nand he will discharge us all when the d\u0026eacute;bris is cleared\r\naway. In the mean time he must get from us, if he can, the utmost\r\nof physical labor which we, individually and collectively, are\r\ncapable of. If he should drive some of us to exhaustion, and we\r\nshould not be able to continue at work, he would not be the loser;\r\nfor the market would soon supply him with others to take our\r\nplaces.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"We are ignorant men, but so much we clearly see,\u0026mdash;that we\r\nhave sold our labor where we could sell it dearest, and our\r\nemployer has bought it where he could buy it cheapest. He has paid\r\nhigh, and he must get all the labor that he can; and, by a strong\r\ninstinct which possesses us, we shall part with as little as we\r\ncan. From work like ours there seems to us to have been eliminated\r\nevery element which constitutes the nobility of labor. We feel no\r\npersonal pride in its progress, and no community of interest with\r\nour employer. There is none of the joy of responsibility, none of\r\nthe sense of achievement, only the dull monotony of grinding toil,\r\nwith the longing for the signal to quit work, and for our wages at\r\nthe end.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"And being what we are, the dregs of the labor-market, and\r\nhaving no certainty of permanent employment, and no organization\r\namong ourselves, we must expect to work under the watchful eye of a\r\ngang-boss, and be driven, like the wage-slaves that we are, through\r\nour tasks.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"All this is to tell us, in effect, that our lives are hard,\r\nbarren, hopeless lives.\"\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd such hard, barren, hopeless lives, surely, are not lives in\r\nwhich one ought to be willing permanently to remain. And why is\r\nthis so? Is it because they are so dirty? Well, Nansen grew a great\r\ndeal dirtier on his polar expedition; and we think none the worse\r\nof his life for that. Is it the insensibility? Our soldiers have to\r\ngrow vastly more insensible, and we extol them to the skies. Is it\r\nthe poverty? Poverty has been reckoned the crowning beauty of many\r\na heroic career. Is it the slavery to a task, the loss of finer\r\npleasures?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch slavery and loss are of the very essence of the higher\r\nfortitude, and are always counted to its credit,\u0026mdash;read the\r\nrecords of missionary devotion all over the world. It is not any\r\none of these things, then, taken by itself,\u0026mdash;no, nor all of\r\nthem together,\u0026mdash;that make such a life undesirable. A man might\r\nin truth live like an unskilled laborer, and do the work of one,\r\nand yet count as one of the noblest of God\u0027s creatures. Quite\r\npossibly there were some such persons in the gang that our author\r\ndescribes; but the current of their souls ran underground; and he\r\nwas too steeped in the ancestral blindness to discern it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf there \u003ci\u003ewere\u003c/i\u003e any such morally exceptional individuals,\r\nhowever, what made them different from the rest? It can only have\r\nbeen this,\u0026mdash;that their souls worked and endured in obedience\r\nto some inner \u003ci\u003eideal\u003c/i\u003e, while their comrades were not actuated\r\nby anything worthy of that name. These ideals of other lives are\r\namong those secrets that we can almost never penetrate, although\r\nsomething about the man may often tell us when they are there. In\r\nMr. Wyckoff\u0027s own case we know exactly what the self-imposed ideal\r\nwas. Partly he had stumped himself, as the boys say, to carry\r\nthrough a strenuous achievement; but mainly he wished to enlarge\r\nhis sympathetic insight into fellow-lives. For this his sweat and\r\ntoil acquire a certain heroic significance, and make us accord to\r\nhim exceptional esteem. But it is easy to imagine his fellows with\r\nvarious other ideals. To say nothing of wives and babies, one may\r\nhave been a convert of the Salvation Army, and had a nightingale\r\nsinging of expiation and forgiveness in his heart all the while he\r\nlabored. Or there might have been an apostle like Tolsto\u0026iuml;\r\nhimself, or his compatriot Bondareff, in the gang, voluntarily\r\nembracing labor as their religious mission. Class-loyalty was\r\nundoubtedly an ideal with many. And who knows how much of that\r\nhigher manliness of poverty, of which Phillips Brooks has spoken so\r\npenetratingly, was or was not present in that gang?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003e\"A rugged, barren land,\" says Phillips Brooks, \"is poverty to\r\nlive in,\u0026mdash;a land where I am thankful very often if I can get a\r\nberry or a root to eat. But living in it really, letting it bear\r\nwitness to me of itself, not dishonoring it all the time by judging\r\nit after the standard of the other lands, gradually there come out\r\nits qualities. Behold! no land like this barren and naked land of\r\npoverty could show the moral geology of the world. See how the hard\r\nribs … stand out strong and solid. No life like poverty could so\r\nget one to the heart of things and make men know their meaning,\r\ncould so let us feel life and the world with all the soft cushions\r\nstripped off and thrown away…. Poverty makes men come very near\r\neach other, and recognize each other\u0027s human hearts; and poverty,\r\nhighest and best of all, demands and cries out for faith in God….\r\nI know how superficial and unfeeling, how like mere mockery, words\r\nin praise of poverty may seem…. But I am sure that the poor man\u0027s\r\ndignity and freedom, his self-respect and energy, depend upon his\r\ncordial knowledge that his poverty is a true region and kind of\r\nlife, with its own chances of character, its own springs of\r\nhappiness and revelations of God. Let him resist the\r\ncharacterlessness which often goes with being poor. Let him insist\r\non respecting the condition where he lives. Let him learn to love\r\nit, so that by and by, [if] he grows rich, he shall go out of the\r\nlow door of the old familiar poverty with a true pang of regret,\r\nand with a true honor for the narrow home in which he has lived so\r\nlong.\"\u003ca name=\"FNanchor_A_19\" id=\"FNanchor_A_19\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#Footnote_A_19\" class=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_19\" id=\"Footnote_A_19\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_19\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Sermons.\r\n5th Series, New York, 1893, pp. 166, 167.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe barrenness and ignobleness of the more usual laborer\u0027s life\r\nconsist in the fact that it is moved by no such ideal inner\r\nsprings. The backache, the long hours, the danger, are patiently\r\nendured\u0026mdash;for what? To gain a quid of tobacco, a glass of beer,\r\na cup of coffee, a meal, and a bed, and to begin again the next day\r\nand shirk as much as one can. This really is why we raise no\r\nmonument to the laborers in the Subway, even though they be our\r\nconscripts, and even though after a fashion our city is indeed\r\nbased upon their patient hearts and enduring backs and shoulders.\r\nAnd this is why we do raise monuments to our soldiers, whose\r\noutward conditions were even brutaller still. The soldiers are\r\nsupposed to have followed an ideal, and the laborers are supposed\r\nto have followed none.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eYou see, my friends, how the plot now thickens; and how\r\nstrangely the complexities of this wonderful human nature of ours\r\nbegin to develop under our hands. We have seen the blindness and\r\ndeadness to each other which are our natural inheritance; and, in\r\nspite of them, we have been led to acknowledge an inner meaning\r\nwhich passeth show, and which may be present in the lives of others\r\nwhere we least descry it. And now we are led to say that such inner\r\nmeaning can be \u003ci\u003ecomplete\u003c/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003evalid for us also\u003c/i\u003e, only\r\nwhen the inner joy, courage, and endurance are joined with an\r\nideal.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut what, exactly, do we mean by an ideal? Can we give no\r\ndefinite account of such a word?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo a certain extent we can. An ideal, for instance, must be\r\nsomething intellectually conceived, something of which we are not\r\nunconscious, if we have it; and it must carry with it that sort of\r\noutlook, uplift, and brightness that go with all intellectual\r\nfacts. Secondly, there must be \u003ci\u003enovelty\u003c/i\u003e in an\r\nideal,\u0026mdash;novelty at least for him whom the ideal grasps. Sodden\r\nroutine is incompatible with ideality, although what is sodden\r\nroutine for one person may be ideal novelty for another. This shows\r\nthat there is nothing absolutely ideal: ideals are relative to the\r\nlives that entertain them. To keep out of the gutter is for us here\r\nno part of consciousness at all, yet for many of our brethren it is\r\nthe most legitimately engrossing of ideals.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eNow, taken nakedly, abstractly, and immediately, you see that\r\nmere ideals are the cheapest things in life. Everybody has them in\r\nsome shape or other, personal or general, sound or mistaken, low or\r\nhigh; and the most worthless sentimentalists and dreamers,\r\ndrunkards, shirks and verse-makers, who never show a grain of\r\neffort, courage, or endurance, possibly have them on the most\r\ncopious scale. Education, enlarging as it does our horizon and\r\nperspective, is a means of multiplying our ideals, of bringing new\r\nones into view. And your college professor, with a starched shirt\r\nand spectacles, would, if a stock of ideals were all alone by\r\nitself enough to render a life significant, be the most absolutely\r\nand deeply significant of men. Tolsto\u0026iuml; would be completely\r\nblind in despising him for a prig, a pedant and a parody; and all\r\nour new insight into the divinity of muscular labor would be\r\naltogether off the track of truth.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut such consequences as this, you instinctively feel, are\r\nerroneous. The more ideals a man has, the more contemptible, on the\r\nwhole, do you continue to deem him, if the matter ends there for\r\nhim, and if none of the laboring man\u0027s virtues are called into\r\naction on his part,\u0026mdash;no courage shown, no privations\r\nundergone, no dirt or scars contracted in the attempt to get them\r\nrealized. It is quite obvious that something more than the mere\r\npossession of ideals is required to make a life significant in any\r\nsense that claims the spectator\u0027s admiration. Inner joy, to be\r\nsure, it may \u003ci\u003ehave\u003c/i\u003e, with its ideals; but that is its own\r\nprivate sentimental matter. To extort from us, outsiders as we are,\r\nwith our own ideals to look after, the tribute of our grudging\r\nrecognition, it must back its ideal visions with what the laborers\r\nhave, the sterner stuff of manly virtue; it must multiply their\r\nsentimental surface by the dimension of the active will, if we are\r\nto have \u003ci\u003edepth\u003c/i\u003e, if we are to have anything cubical and solid\r\nin the way of character.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe significance of a human life for communicable and publicly\r\nrecognizable purposes is thus the offspring of a marriage of two\r\ndifferent parents, either of whom alone is barren. The ideals taken\r\nby themselves give no reality, the virtues by themselves no\r\nnovelty. And let the orientalists and pessimists say what they\r\nwill, the thing of deepest\u0026mdash;or, at any rate, of comparatively\r\ndeepest\u0026mdash;significance in life does seem to be its character of\r\n\u003ci\u003eprogress\u003c/i\u003e, or that strange union of reality with ideal\r\nnovelty which it continues from one moment to another to present.\r\nTo recognize ideal novelty is the task of what we call\r\nintelligence. Not every one\u0027s intelligence can tell which novelties\r\nare ideal. For many the ideal thing will always seem to cling still\r\nto the older more familiar good. In this case character, though not\r\nsignificant totally, may be still significant pathetically. So, if\r\nwe are to choose which is the more essential factor of human\r\ncharacter, the fighting virtue or the intellectual breadth, we must\r\nside with Tolsto\u0026iuml;, and choose that simple faithfulness to his\r\nlight or darkness which any common unintellectual man can show.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut, with all this beating and tacking on my part, I fear you\r\ntake me to be reaching a confused result. I seem to be just taking\r\nthings up and dropping them again. First I took up Chautauqua, and\r\ndropped that; then Tolsto\u0026iuml; and the heroism of common toil, and\r\ndropped them; finally, I took up ideals, and seem now almost\r\ndropping those. But please observe in what sense it is that I drop\r\nthem. It is when they pretend \u003ci\u003esingly\u003c/i\u003e to redeem life from\r\ninsignificance. Culture and refinement all alone are not enough to\r\ndo so. Ideal aspirations are not enough, when uncombined with pluck\r\nand will. But neither are pluck and will, dogged endurance and\r\ninsensibility to danger enough, when taken all alone. There must be\r\nsome sort of fusion, some chemical combination among these\r\nprinciples, for a life objectively and thoroughly significant to\r\nresult.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eOf course, this is a somewhat vague conclusion. But in a\r\nquestion of significance, of worth, like this, conclusions can\r\nnever be precise. The answer of appreciation, of sentiment, is\r\nalways a more or a less, a balance struck by sympathy, insight, and\r\ngood will. But it is an answer, all the same, a real conclusion.\r\nAnd, in the course of getting it, it seems to me that our eyes have\r\nbeen opened to many important things. Some of you are, perhaps,\r\nmore livingly aware than you were an hour ago of the depths of\r\nworth that lie around you, hid in alien lives. And, when you ask\r\nhow much sympathy you ought to bestow, although the amount is,\r\ntruly enough, a matter of ideal on your own part, yet in this\r\nnotion of the combination of ideals with active virtues you have a\r\nrough standard for shaping your decision. In any case, your\r\nimagination is extended. You divine in the world about you matter\r\nfor a little more humility on your own part, and tolerance,\r\nreverence, and love for others; and you gain a certain inner\r\njoyfulness at the increased importance of our common life. Such\r\njoyfulness is a religious inspiration and an element of spiritual\r\nhealth, and worth more than large amounts of that sort of technical\r\nand accurate information which we professors are supposed to be\r\nable to impart.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo show the sort of thing I mean by these words, I will just\r\nmake one brief practical illustration and then close.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe are suffering to-day in America from what is called the\r\nlabor-question; and, when you go out into the world, you will each\r\nand all of you be caught up in its perplexities. I use the brief\r\nterm labor-question to cover all sorts of anarchistic discontents\r\nand socialistic projects, and the conservative resistances which\r\nthey provoke. So far as this conflict is unhealthy and\r\nregrettable,\u0026mdash;and I think it is so only to a limited\r\nextent,\u0026mdash;the unhealthiness consists solely in the fact that\r\none-half of our fellow-countrymen remain entirely blind to the\r\ninternal significance of the lives of the other half. They miss the\r\njoys and sorrows, they fail to feel the moral virtue, and they do\r\nnot guess the presence of the intellectual ideals. They are at\r\ncross-purposes all along the line, regarding each other as they\r\nmight regard a set of dangerously gesticulating automata, or, if\r\nthey seek to get at the inner motivation, making the most horrible\r\nmistakes. Often all that the poor man can think of in the rich man\r\nis a cowardly greediness for safety, luxury, and effeminacy, and a\r\nboundless affectation. What he is, is not a human being, but a\r\npocket-book, a bank-account. And a similar greediness, turned by\r\ndisappointment into envy, is all that many rich men can see in the\r\nstate of mind of the dissatisfied poor. And, if the rich man begins\r\nto do the sentimental act over the poor man, what senseless\r\nblunders does he make, pitying him for just those very duties and\r\nthose very immunities which, rightly taken, are the condition of\r\nhis most abiding and characteristic joys! Each, in short, ignores\r\nthe fact that happiness and unhappiness and significance are a\r\nvital mystery; each pins them absolutely on some ridiculous feature\r\nof the external situation; and everybody remains outside of\r\neverybody else\u0027s sight.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eSociety has, with all this, undoubtedly got to pass toward some\r\nnewer and better equilibrium, and the distribution of wealth has\r\ndoubtless slowly got to change: such changes have always happened,\r\nand will happen to the end of time. But if, after all that I have\r\nsaid, any of you expect that they will make any \u003ci\u003egenuine vital\r\ndifference\u003c/i\u003e on a large scale, to the lives of our descendants,\r\nyou will have missed the significance of my entire lecture. The\r\nsolid meaning of life is always the same eternal thing,\u0026mdash;the\r\nmarriage, namely, of some unhabitual ideal, however special, with\r\nsome fidelity, courage, and endurance; with some man\u0027s or woman\u0027s\r\npains.\u0026mdash;And, whatever or wherever life may be, there will\r\nalways be the chance for that marriage to take place.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eFitz-James Stephen wrote many years ago words to this effect\r\nmore eloquent than any I can speak: \"The \u0027Great Eastern,\u0027 or some\r\nof her successors,\" he said, \"will perhaps defy the roll of the\r\nAtlantic, and cross the seas without allowing their passengers to\r\nfeel that they have left the firm land. The voyage from the cradle\r\nto the grave may come to be performed with similar facility.\r\nProgress and science may perhaps enable untold millions to live and\r\ndie without a care, without a pang, without an anxiety. They will\r\nhave a pleasant passage and plenty of brilliant conversation. They\r\nwill wonder that men ever believed at all in clanging fights and\r\nblazing towns and sinking ships and praying hands; and, when they\r\ncome to the end of their course, they will go their way, and the\r\nplace thereof will know them no more. But it seems unlikely that\r\nthey will have such a knowledge of the great ocean on which they\r\nsail, with its storms and wrecks, its currents and icebergs, its\r\nhuge waves and mighty winds, as those who battled with it for years\r\ntogether in the little craft, which, if they had few other merits,\r\nbrought those who navigated them full into the presence of time and\r\neternity, their maker and themselves, and forced them to have some\r\ndefinite view of their relations to them and to each other.\"\u003ca\r\nname=\"FNanchor_A_20\" id=\"FNanchor_A_20\" /\u003e\u003ca href=\"#Footnote_A_20\"\r\nclass=\"fnanchor\"\u003e[A]\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"footnote\"\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca name=\"Footnote_A_20\" id=\"Footnote_A_20\" /\u003e\u003ca\r\nhref=\"#FNanchor_A_20\"\u003e\u003cspan class=\"label\"\u003e[A]\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/a\u003e Essays by\r\na Barrister, London, 1862, p. 318.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn this solid and tridimensional sense, so to call it, those\r\nphilosophers are right who contend that the world is a standing\r\nthing, with no progress, no real history. The changing conditions\r\nof history touch only the surface of the show. The altered\r\nequilibriums and redistributions only diversify our opportunities\r\nand open chances to us for new ideals. But, with each new ideal\r\nthat comes into life, the chance for a life based on some old ideal\r\nwill vanish; and he would needs be a presumptuous calculator who\r\nshould with confidence say that the total sum of significances is\r\npositively and absolutely greater at any one epoch than at any\r\nother of the world.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eI am speaking broadly, I know, and omitting to consider certain\r\nqualifications in which I myself believe. But one can only make one\r\npoint in one lecture, and I shall be well content if I have brought\r\nmy point home to you this evening in even a slight degree. \u003ci\u003eThere\r\nare compensations\u003c/i\u003e: and no outward changes of condition in life\r\ncan keep the nightingale of its eternal meaning from singing in all\r\nsorts of different men\u0027s hearts. That is the main fact to remember.\r\nIf we could not only admit it with our lips, but really and truly\r\nbelieve it, how our convulsive insistencies, how our antipathies\r\nand dreads of each other, would soften down! If the poor and the\r\nrich could look at each other in this way, \u003ci\u003esub specie\r\n\u0026aelig;ternatis\u003c/i\u003e, how gentle would grow their disputes! what\r\ntolerance and good humor, what willingness to live and let live,\r\nwould come into the world!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp\u003eTHE END.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/article\u003e"}],"SectionSequence":["Back Link","Work Title","Deck","Author","Period","Era","Composition","Date Note","Region","Terra Avita","Terra Avita Region","Modern Country","Original Title","Language","Primary Discipline","Secondary Discipline","Tradition","Full Versions","Core Thesis","Classification","Arguments","Influence","Significance","Evidence Note","Full Text"],"Counts":{"ContextCards":3,"GeoCards":4,"DisciplineCards":2,"Links":11,"Sections":25,"Styles":3,"Scripts":1}}