- -*'
 
 A TEXT-BOOK IN THE PRINCIPLES 
 OF EDUCATION
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO 
 ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED 
 
 LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA 
 MELBOURNE 
 
 THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. 
 
 TORONTO
 
 A TEXT-BOOK 
 
 IN THE 
 
 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 
 
 BY 
 
 ERNEST NORTON HENDERSON, PH.D. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF EDUCATION AND PHILOSOPHY 
 IN ADELPHI COLLEGE, BROOKLYN 
 
 Wefo fforft 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 1910 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 ' 
 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1910, 
 BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 
 
 Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1910. 
 
 J. 8. Gushing Co. Berwick <fc Smith Co. 
 Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
 
 I DEDICATE THIS VOLUME 
 TO MY WIFE 
 
 2056345
 
 PREFACE 
 
 IN the following pages I have endeavored to present in a 
 systematic way the outlines of a theory of education from the 
 point of view of evolution. The evolutionary conception has 
 been applied to educational theory more or less consistently 
 by all writers on the subject since the time of Froebel. The 
 development of more and more scientific knowledge in regard 
 to the history of life, of mind, and of society has, however, 
 made possible constant reconstruction of the general princi- 
 ples, in terms of which the process of evolution through edu- 
 cation is to be conceived. I have tried to draw into a unified 
 scheme what seem to me the essential features of current 
 thought on this subject to-day. 
 
 To accomplish this result in anything like an adequate 
 manner, and at the same time make those practical applica- 
 tions of principles which a book on the " Principles of Edu- 
 cation " may be expected to offer, it has been necessary to 
 give to certain fundamental conceptions a very condensed 
 and, I fear, somewhat abstract treatment. Such is especially 
 the case in the chapter on " Conscious Learning," which, had 
 space been clearly available, I should gladly have expanded 
 by the addition of more illustration. In the chapter on 
 " Readjustment, its Meaning, Conditions, and Methods," I 
 have given the essential features of my theory of evolution. 
 To the schoolman interested primarily in practice this may 
 seem like a somewhat formidable introduction to so practical 
 a subject as the Principles of Education should be. I am, 
 however, convinced that the conceptions there presented form 
 the clew to at least one fundamental aspect of the meaning of 
 the process of education, i.e. its part in the mechanics of
 
 viii Preface 
 
 evolution. It is, moreover, upon these conceptions that the 
 later more practical phases of the treatment turn. I hope, 
 therefore, that the reader interested in the "practical" will 
 not lose heart too soon. 
 
 Since the conception of evolution plays so important a 
 part in the discussion, I have of necessity treated mind, con- 
 science, and, indeed, all the higher powers of the individual 
 from the " functional " or utilitarian point of view. I have, 
 however, tried to combine with this an idealistic interpreta- 
 tion of the history of life, both in the individual and the race, 
 which I trust will not escape attention for lack of emphasis. 
 I am confident that in the long run Idealism cannot lose from 
 the study of facts, and, while the trend of thought and prac- 
 tice in educational matters to-day may seem discouraging to 
 those who regard the higher culture as too precious to be put 
 to use, it is not unlikely that a newer Idealism of service may 
 prove on the whole a more satisfactory philosophy than the 
 older one that consisted so much in withdrawal from the 
 utilities. 
 
 In the hope that the book may prove widely serviceable as 
 a text on the principles of education, I have added a topical 
 outline which appears as marginal notes. At the end I have 
 offered a teacher's bibliography, which aims to give one or a 
 few easily available references on each of the principal topics 
 discussed in the text. 
 
 The book is itself the result of the gradual evolution dur- 
 ing the past ten years of an attempt on my part to treat the 
 principles of education as an application of a conception of 
 evolution. It began with the endeavor to draw together three 
 significant biological facts : reproduction, the helpless period 
 of infancy, and the lack of inheritance, at least to any appre- 
 ciable degree, of acquired characters. The results of this bit 
 of reflection are given in a short paper entitled " Some Prob- 
 lems in Education and Evolution," published in the University
 
 Preface ix 
 
 of California Publications in Philosophy, Vol. I, 1904. This 
 paper constitutes the foundation of the ideas developed in 
 the chapters on " Readjustment, its Meaning, Conditions, and 
 Methods," and " Education and Heredity." The material of 
 the other chapters has been slowly brought into the present 
 form, and it is difficult to make acknowledgments to the many 
 sources of influence that have determined its character. I 
 wish, however, to thank the students and friends who during 
 these years have, by their appreciative attitude and helpful 
 criticisms, done very much toward making possible the publi- 
 cation of the book. Especially I acknowledge my obligation 
 to Professor Monroe, the editor of this series, for many valu- 
 able suggestions in putting my material in its final form, and 
 to my wife for her assistance toward that same end. 
 
 ADELPHI COLLEGE, BROOKLYN, 
 May, 1910.
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 INTRODUCTION. VARIOUS CONCEPTIONS OF THE AIM OF 
 EDUCATION 
 
 SECTION PAGE 
 
 1 . The typical ideals of personal culture I 
 
 2. Efficiency versus personal culture as the educational aim . . 16 
 
 PART I 
 
 EDUCATION AS A FACTOR IN ORGANIC AND SOCIAL 
 EVOLUTION 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 READJUSTMENT, ITS MEANING, CONDITIONS, AND METHODS 
 
 3. Meaning and fundamental conditions of readjustment . . 27 
 
 4. Environmental variability 32 
 
 5. The evolution of wants 41 
 
 6. Types of readjustment 47 
 
 7. The theory of infancy 61 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 HEREDITY AND EDUCATION 
 
 8. Differentiation of heredity and education 72 
 
 9. Heredity as a basis for education 85 
 
 10. Education as supplementing heredity 96 
 
 11. Education as antagonizing heredity 99 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 EDUCATION AND SOCIETY 
 
 12. Early evolution of social heredity 109 
 
 13. The rise of the school . .116 
 
 14. Education and social control 124 
 
 zi
 
 Xll 
 
 PART II 
 
 THE PROCESS OF EDUCATION IN THE INDIVIDUAL 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 THE CONDITIONS OF INDIVIDUAL DEVELOPMENT 
 
 SECTION PACK 
 
 15. The problem of individual development 139 
 
 16. Heredity and individual development 140 
 
 17. Experimentation and selection ....... 144 
 
 18. Consciousness and readjustment ...... 149 
 
 19. Habit and readjustment 152 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 RECAPITULATION 
 
 20. Various theories of recapitulation 163 
 
 21. Psycho-physiological recapitulation and education . . . 169 
 
 22. Cultural recapitulation 183 
 
 23. General notion of learning . . . . . .190 
 
 24. The evolution of feeling 194 
 
 25. Perceptual readjustment 198 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 CONSCIOUS LEARNING 
 
 26. Factors in conscious learning ....... 209 
 
 27. The evolution of ideas . 215 
 
 28. The evolution of judgment 235 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 THE EDUCATION OF THE REASON 
 
 29. General problem of educating the reason 251 
 
 30. The accumulation of mental materials ..... 258 
 
 31. The cultivation of the rational attitudes 270
 
 Table of Contents xiii 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 THE QUESTION OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE 
 
 SECTION PACK 
 
 32. The rise of the conception of formal discipline .... 283 
 
 33. Criticism of formal discipline by recent psychology . . . 294 
 
 34. The theory of formal discipline as an educational principle . 309 
 
 , CHAPTER XI 
 
 IMITATION 
 
 35. The general function of imitation 318 
 
 36. Psycho-physiological mechanism of imitation .... 323 
 
 37. Psychical effects of imitation 331 
 
 38. Social mechanism of imitation 341 
 
 39. Imitation in the history of education 351 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 LANGUAGE 
 
 40. Oral language and the development of thought .... 359 
 
 41. Social memory and written language 368 
 
 42. Education in language 375 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 PLAY 
 
 43. General theory of play 383 
 
 44. The games of childhood 388 
 
 45. The game in the history of education ..... 396 
 
 46. Play in the education of the future 405 
 
 PART III 
 
 THE EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 ANALYSIS OF EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 
 
 47. The educational institutions 429 
 
 48. The educational materials 434
 
 xiv Table of Contents 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 THE EVOLUTION OF THE SCHOOL 
 
 SECTION PAGE 
 
 49. The differentiation of the school 440 
 
 50. The rise of academic freedom 451 
 
 51. Interdependence of the school and society 468 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE FUNCTION OF THE SCHOOL 
 
 52. The examination conception of education 478 
 
 53. The function of secondary education 486 
 
 54. The school as determinative of social heredity .... 496 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE ACADEMIC AND THE PRACTICAL 
 
 55. The evolution of the academic 502 
 
 56. The reaction against the academic . . . . . .513 
 
 57. The ultimate end of education 523 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 LIBERAL AND VOCATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 58. The evolution of liberal education 535 
 
 59. The rise of vocational training 540 
 
 60. The function of education in a democracy 550 
 
 61. The ideal of education in a democracy 561
 
 A TEXT-BOOK IN THE PRINCIPLES 
 OF EDUCATION
 
 TEXT-BOOK IN THE PRINCIPLES 
 OF EDUCATION 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 INTRODUCTION : VARIOUS CONCEPTIONS OF THE AIM OF EDU- 
 
 CATION 
 
 SECTION i. The typical ideals of personal culture 
 
 No one can formulate a theory of education except from the The concep- 
 standpoint of a conception of its aim. Even though we em- p^ess of 
 
 brace in our treatment those phases of the life of lower animals education 
 that foreshadow human education, our thinking will be domi- O n the con- 
 nated by the teleology manifest therein. Education every- ^^ of 
 where has a function, and it is upon one's view of the nature of 
 this function that not only his conception of the significance 
 of the entire process, but also his analysis of its details, will 
 largely depend. It will, therefore, be practically necessary for 
 us to consider first of all the use in terms of which education 
 can most accurately be conceived. 
 
 In general, the aims of human education can be grouped The two lead- 
 under two main headings: efficiency and personal culture. culureTnd 
 These we commonly regard as the utilitarian and perfection- practical 
 istic aims, associated respectively with the worldliness or the 
 idealism of peoples or of teachers. They are not utterly 
 divorced. It would be, perhaps, true to say that no age, 
 however persistently it pursues the ideal of personal culture, 
 fails to take account of its uses ; for the very devotion to this 
 aim which is characteristic of the time makes it practically 
 certain that the surest road to social recognition, and so the
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 personal 
 culture 
 
 highest utility, will be found in an apparently non-utilitarian 
 culture of the individual. Moreover, there is probably no 
 utilitarianism so crass that it does not find some few activities 
 worth while for their own sake, some few possessions that can 
 be idealized and regarded as ends in themselves. 
 
 Although it is doubtless impossible for any age to free itself 
 entirely from utilitarianism or idealism, nevertheless, it may 
 with justice be said that learned education, the education of 
 the school, from the Middle Ages until the nineteenth century, 
 The ideals of was dominated by the conception of personal culture. This 
 ideal appeared in various forms. Stating the most important 
 of these in their historic sequence, we have : (i) spiritual 
 culture; (2) aristocratic, social, and aesthetic culture ; (3) uni- 
 versal knowledge; (4) the perfectly disciplined mind ; (5) the 
 adequate self-realization of the individual. A study of the 
 growth of these aims reveals an evolution in which the factor 
 of utility plays a constantly increasing part. This fact and the 
 reasons for it are sufficiently important to make it worth while 
 to consider more carefully the specific nature of each ideal. 
 
 (i) Spiritual Culture. During the Middle Ages the ideal 
 of learned education was predominantly religious. With the 
 development of the Universities, it is true, the professions of 
 law and medicine became provided for in the educational 
 scheme. Nevertheless, the characteristic feature of the instruc- 
 tion of the time was the religious purpose. The perfect life is 
 conceived to be the life of attention to purely spiritual things. 
 Education is the purification of the spirit from the taint of 
 earth. In the words of a leading scholar and thinker, a monk 
 of the twelfth century, Hugo of St. Victor : 
 
 Medieval "The end and purpose of all human actions and pursuits 
 
 ideal of which are controlled by reason ought to be this, that the integ- 
 rity of our nature may be restored, or the constraint of those 
 defects under which our present life lies be relieved. More
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 3 
 
 plainly : there are two elements in man, good and evil, nature 
 and sin. The good, because it partakes of the nature of exist- 
 ence itself, because it is corrupted, because it is deficient, must 
 be restored by training. The evil, because it is sin, because it 
 is corruption, because it partakes of the nature of non-exist- 
 ence, should be shut out, and if it cannot be entirely exter- 
 minated, at least it should be controlled through the applica- 
 tion of a remedy. . . . The integrity of human life should 
 be maintained by two means, knowledge and virtue, which 
 together constitute the sole thing in us that is like the super- 
 natural and divine existences." 1 
 
 This conception of the purpose of life was not original with Spiritual cui- 
 
 the Middle Ages, but it was derived from a long line of devotees, ardent 
 
 reaching back to the remote ascetics of the earliest civilization. ideal 
 Plato symbolizes it as : 
 
 "The release of the prisoners from chains, and their transla- 
 tion from the shadows to the images and the light, and their 
 ascent from the underground den to the sun . . . elevating 
 the highest principle in the soul to the contemplation of that 
 which is best in existence." 2 
 
 Such a notion did not of necessity utterly disparage the in- 
 ferior knowledge, the aim of which is health and earthly pros- 
 perity. To Hugo that was a knowledge of "instrumentalities," 
 indispensable, indeed, but required merely because of our 
 fallen state. The mediaeval scholastic world did not waste an 
 inordinate amount of time in the endeavor to master the empir- 
 ical facts of "those objects which have both beginning and end 
 and are called temporal." 3 The world beyond the gates of 
 monastery and cathedral was overawed by the majesty and the 
 mystery of the conception of life illustrated behind them. The 
 highest aspirations of the finest spirits, whether of priests or of 
 
 1 Libri Didascalici, Book VI. * Republic, Book VII. 
 
 3 Libri Didascalici, Ch. VH.
 
 4 Principles of Education 
 
 laymen, were turned toward the eternal order. Excommunica- 
 tion was the direst of penalties. The recovery of the Holy Land 
 from the Infidel was the loftiest of enterprises for the warrior, 
 who alone among those [who were not clergymen possessed a 
 profession that could be called noble. 
 
 The Renais- (2) Aristocratic , Social, and ^Esthetic Culture. The Renais- 
 thcTreviVai sance constitutes an attack upon the supremacy in learned 
 of worldly education of the religious ideal. Its characteristic feature is 
 the development among the aristocracy of an interest in the 
 literature and culture of classical antiquity, which the revival 
 of learning had recently brought to light. Important causes 
 for this interest were the growth of wealth, the cessation of 
 general warfare, the gradual evolution of elegant court life, 
 among the refined activities of which poetry and letters played 
 a constantly increasing part, and in the field of statecraft the 
 development of diplomacy as a partial substitute for general- 
 ship. All these conditions tended to create a society to which 
 the humanist was most welcome. He brought artistic social 
 ideals and charming employments for leisure. He brought 
 a standard in linguistic matters that appealed powerfully to 
 those who wished to lead in the struggle where persuasion was 
 so rapidly supplanting mere force. The new learning affected 
 the old scholastic world, it is true, but far stronger was its 
 effect upon the polite society which needed occupation for its 
 new-found leisure. Hence, it may be said that the dominant 
 purpose of that literary education which was characteristic 
 of the Renaissance was that it should be liberal in the ancient 
 sense. It was preparation for leisure and for leadership. The 
 first of these aims is well brought out by one of the ablest of 
 humanists, Guarino, Professor of Rhetoric at Bologna and at 
 
 Renaissance FeiTara : 
 ideal of 
 
 education "I would urge you to consider the function of letters as an 
 e adornment of leisure. Cicero, as you remember, declares
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 5 
 
 Learning to be the inspiration of youth, the delight of age, 
 the ornament of happy fortunes, the solace of adversity. A 
 recreation in the Study, abroad it is no hindrance. In our 
 work, in our leisure, whether we keep vigil or whether we court 
 sleep, Letters are ever on hand as our surest resource. Do 
 we seek refreshment for our minds? Where can we find it 
 more happily than in the pursuit which affords alike utility 
 and delight? If others seek recreation in dice, in ball play, 
 in the theater, do you seek it in acquiring knowledge. There 
 you will see nothing which you may not admire ; you will hear 
 nothing which you would gladly forget. ... A life spent 
 amidst such interests deserves the title which the younger 
 Pliny gives to it "the true, the kingly life"; or as Attilius 
 was wont to say, no leisure could be more nobly occupied than 
 that spent amongst books. Learned labor, he said, was 
 'pleasanter than any pleasures.' " 1 
 
 Here then we have the characteristic purpose of humanistic 
 culture. But it is not to be supposed that learning was not 
 regarded as having, in addition to its uses as an adornment of 
 leisure, some value for the business of life. This second aim 
 is brought out with especial clearness by the eminently prac- 
 tical ^Eneas Sylvius, at one time secretary to the Emperor 
 Frederick III, later Pope Pius II. In writing concerning the 
 education of Ladislas, the youthful King of Bohemia, he says: 
 
 "Need I, then, impress upon you the importance of the Renaissance 
 study of Philosophy, and of Letters, without which indeed ideal f 
 Philosophy itself is barely intelligible ? By this twofold wisdom f or uc s a t a e n _ 
 a Prince is trained to understand the laws of God and of man, by craft 
 it we are all enlightened to see the realities of the world around 
 us. Literature is our guide to the true meaning of the past, 
 to a right estimate of the present, to a sound forecast of the 
 future. Where letters cease, darkness covers the land ; and a 
 Prince who cannot read the lessons of history is a helpless prey 
 of flattery and intrigue." 2 
 
 1 De Ordine Docendi et Studendi. * De Liberorum Educaiione.
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Renaissance 
 ideal of 
 education 
 for social 
 culture 
 
 The prince and the statesman may, therefore, find letters 
 the true guide to an insight into those laws of human nature 
 and of society upon which the craft of politics depends. Above 
 all they may thus learn to know more clearly those laws of 
 God by which the conduct of states should be controlled. 
 
 The essay from which this extract is taken is largely devoted 
 to showing the value of humanities in the art of government. 
 This is not their sole utility. The same laws of God and man 
 that are fundamental for the statesman are the basis of the 
 art of social and civic life for the community in general, for 
 those who are governed as well as for those who govern. This 
 further extension of the practical value of letters to include their 
 reaction on morals and customs in society at large is well de- 
 fended by the man who is, perhaps, the greatest of humanists, 
 Erasmus. Of him Professor Woodward says : * 
 
 "The organized life of the civilized community is to Erasmus 
 the only life worth living; his educational aim is therefore a 
 social aim. It does not stop short with the perfection of the 
 individual, the preparation of a self-contained life. When he 
 speaks of a knowledge of Christ and his glory as totius eruditionis 
 scopus? he by no means implies that the end of right training is 
 personal salvation. He has given in De civilitate morum puer- 
 ilium his description of education in definite terms. 'Sicut 
 prima (pars}, ita prczcipua est ut tenellus animus imbibat pietatis 
 seminaria, proximo, ut liberates disciplinas et amet et perdiscat, 
 tertia esl, ut a vita qfficia instruatur, quarta est ut a primis statim 
 cevi rudimentis civilitati morum adsuescat.' " 3 
 
 To Erasmus letters constituted one of the vital elements in 
 this social culture that would make the recipient refined, 
 
 1 Erasmus Concerning Education. 2 The extent of all learning. 
 
 "The first and also the principal function (of education) is that the tender 
 spirit may drink in the seeds of piety, the next that he may love and learn 
 thoroughly the liberal studies, the third is that he may be informed concerning the 
 duties of life, the fourth is that from the earliest childhood he may be habituated 
 in courteous manners."
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 7 
 
 courteous, conscientious, and capable in those political and 
 social functions the existence of which formed for the man of 
 education of that age his proper vocation. Put briefly, the 
 conception is that of learning as preparation for effectiveness 
 in social relations, and in this may be found the broadest ideal 
 of the Renaissance. 
 
 (3) Universal Knowledge. In this we have the ideal of the Knowledge 
 learned man, the philosopher, scholar, or scientist. Of all the ^ady'uni- 
 types of the ideal of personal culture it is most general, and, versai of 
 unless it is expressly excluded, most likely to be found asso- of^rsooal 
 
 ciated with the other forms. It is the ideal of Plato and Aris- C- 0111 "" 5 
 
 ** 
 totle. In a religious guise it becomes the "beatific vision" of 
 
 Dante. We note its presence in the views of Hugo of St. 
 Victor, already quoted. To him knowledge constituted an 
 indispensable instrumentality of salvation, as well as the goal 
 of this process. In the former capacity it concerned temporal 
 affairs, in the latter it dealt with the Divine. 
 
 The ideal of universal knowledge received new life and a new 
 form as a result of the learning, the philosophy, and the science 
 of the Renaissance. The extent and the possibilities of knowl- 
 edge of temporal matters were suddenly and enormously 
 widened. Men plunged with passionate enthusiasm into the 
 task of exploiting these new fields. The interest in worldly 
 knowledge threatened to sweep away that in the Divine. 
 Indeed, Divine Knowledge came to be regarded as after all 
 to be sought in a study of the works of God as manifest in na- 
 ture and in humanity. Thus Milton declares : 
 
 "The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first Renaissance 
 parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that and . Refor - 
 knowledge to love Him, to imitate Him, and to be like Him, 
 as we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, 
 which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes up the 
 
 i . , r ,. r>. j- t 
 
 mghest perfection. But because our understanding cannot in
 
 8 Principles of Education 
 
 this body found itself but on sensible things, nor arrive so dearly 
 at a knowledge of God and things invisible as by orderly conning 
 over the visible and inferior creature, the same method is neces- 
 sarily to be followed in all discreet teaching. And seeing every 
 nation affords not experience and tradition enough for all kinds 
 of learning, therefore we are chiefly taught the languages of 
 those people who have at any time been most industrious after 
 wisdom; so that language is but the instrument conveying 
 to us things useful to be known." 
 
 In a similar strain Comenius asserts: 
 
 Pansophic "It is evident, then, that the ultimate end of man is eternal 
 
 ideal of happiness with God. The subordinate ends are ... to be 
 
 (i) acquainted with all things ; (2) endowed with power over 
 
 all things and over himself; (3) to refer himself and all things 
 
 to God, the source of all." 2 
 
 And again: 
 
 "The seeds of knowledge, of virtue, and of piety are, as we 
 have seen, naturally implanted in us ; but the actual knowl- 
 edge, virtue, and piety are not so given. These must be 
 acquired by prayer, by education, and by action." 3 
 
 The educational ideals of Milton and of Comenius and even 
 * Bacon may properly be termed pansophy. This word is a 
 scientific favorite one with Comenius, and it is illustrated in the scheme 
 f textbooks that he planned, in the course of instruction that 
 he would give, and in the contents of the schoolbooks which 
 he wrote. The arm of education is "to know all things." 
 No less pansophic is the extraordinary course of study that 
 Milton outlines for his ideal academy : and Bacon, dreaming 
 of a quick reconstruction of all the sciences under the guidance 
 of his new method, proposed to complete by his own labors 
 the account of the natural universe and to present this to the 
 world in a series of works that might properly constitute the 
 
 1 Tractate on Education. * Magna Didactica, Ch. IV. 3 Ibid., Ch. VI.
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 9 
 
 foundation of the future course of study for all learned men. 
 The age was encyclopedic. Largely unconscious of the possi- 
 bilities of science and of the true significance of the new method, 
 it planned to sum up earthly knowledge as the Middle Ages 
 had striven to state the science of the Eternal. 
 
 The pansophic ideal of the seventeenth century cannot be 
 said to have produced an immediate and profound reaction 
 upon the schools. As a positive proposal for a course of study 
 it was open to two criticisms. First, the new science had not 
 as yet achieved enough to make a strong plea for admission 
 to the curriculum, much less to hope to dominate it. Second, 
 the odds and ends of knowledge that the devotees of realism 
 put into their textbooks 1 resulted in instruction that must 
 have been almost as meaningless and as dry as the memoriz- 
 ing of Latin grammar that it was to replace. 
 
 The strength of pansophy came from its protest against the Attack of 
 exclusive devotion to linguistic study, the verbalism into In^e^ 
 which the classical schools had degenerated. The reformers guistk cur- 
 succeeded admirably in displaying the formalism, the artificial- 
 ity, the uselessness of much of the work of the school. They 
 put humanism on the defensive, and paved the way for more 
 rational methods of teaching, and for the expansion of the cur- 
 riculum as new forces made this imperative. Meanwhile, 
 humanism discovered a new argument to justify its program, 
 and so successful was this argument that it put off about two 
 centuries the day of doom for the classical curriculum. More- 
 over, this debate brought to the front more clearly than ever 
 before the ideal of mental discipline, one of the most important 
 of the ideals of personal culture. 
 
 (4) Menial Discipline. The notion of education for dis- 
 cipline, as Professor Monroe points out, 2 harks back to the 
 
 1 Compare the Orbis Piclus of Comenius. 
 
 2 Textbook in History of Education, Ch. IX.
 
 10 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Mental disci- Middle Ages, and from thence to the sources of the religious 
 piine as a concep tions at that time dominant. Historically it has been 
 
 defense of . . . . 
 
 the classi- associated with the negations of asceticism, of sen-control, and 
 
 j"SS of the righteous life. In the eighteenth century it came into 
 
 ulum a n ew service. It became the guard of honor for a linguistic 
 
 curriculum long outworn, a forlorn hope to save schools and 
 
 teachers until a new learning with new uses might come to 
 
 their reenforcement. After all, say the disciplinarians, it does 
 
 not matter what we study so long as our faculties are trained. 
 
 The refined nature, the keen mind, the steady will, these are 
 
 the almost certain outcome of that excellent system of discipline 
 
 that has come down from the Renaissance. 
 
 Wolf on dis- "This therefore is the point of the classical studies: all- 
 
 dpiinary round development of all powers of the soul, of the intellectual 
 
 as of the moral and aesthetic, through discipline of every kind, 
 
 from the most elementary to the most advanced and difficult." * 
 
 Thus Paulsen sums up the arguments of F. A. Wolf (1759- 
 1824) in defense of the classical program in the gymnasium. 
 The conception which we here find so clearly denned in the 
 eighteenth century was coming to the front in the seventeenth. 
 Among those who betray its influence in the earlier period, 
 Professor Monroe singles out John Locke. 
 
 Locke on "The business of education is not to make the young perfect 
 
 dis - in any one of the sciences, but so to open and dispose their 
 
 Ac Me "of mm ds as may best make them capable of any when they shall 
 
 culture apply themselves to it. ... It is therefore to give them this 
 
 freedom that I think they should be made to look into all sorts 
 
 of knowledge and exercise their understanding in so wide a 
 
 variety of stock of knowledge. But I do not propose it as a 
 
 variety and stock of knowledge, but a variety and freedom of 
 
 thinking ; as an increase in the powers and activities of the 
 
 mind, not as an enlargement of its possessions." 2 
 
 1 Geschichte des gelehrten Unterrickts : Paulsen. 
 3 Conduct of the Understanding.
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 1 1 
 
 Although Locke thus clearly conceived the idea of mental Locke not 
 discipline, he does not use it to support the narrow classical 
 curriculum, but rather in defense of a broad and varied one. 
 Stated in this form, the disciplinary idea is unquestionably 
 capable of a strong defense, a defense that will be considered in 
 detail later. 1 That Locke was not a narrow disciplinarian may 
 further be seen from his rejection of the common notion that 
 mere strength of memory can be increased by training. 
 
 "I hear it said, that children should be employed in getting 
 things by heart, to exercise and improve their memories. I 
 could wish this were said with as much authority of reason, 
 as it is with forwardness of assurance, and that this practice 
 were established upon good observation more than old custom. 
 For it is evident that strength of memory is owing to an happy 
 constitution, and not to any habitual improvement got by 
 exercise." 2 
 
 Here Locke is especially attacking the prevalent defense of 
 the custom of "learning pages of Latin by heart," which he 
 declares "no more fits the memory for retention of anything 
 else than the graving of one sentence in lead makes it the more 
 capable of retaining firmly any other characters." 
 
 Thus his statements furnish us with an account, on the one 
 hand, of the narrow disciplinary view, at any rate so far as this 
 is embraced in the discipline of the memory, and, on the other, 
 of a broad view, which, although it ran counter to the prevail- 
 ing practices in the classical schools, was nevertheless a notion 
 of mental discipline. 
 
 Unfortunately for the progress of the schools it was the nar- Prevalence of 
 row rather than the broad conception of mental discipline that rather than 
 came to prevail during the next two centuries. As the end of the bro ? d 
 
 , . , ,. ..,., ideal of dis- 
 
 education was thought to be the training of the powers, so c ipiine in 
 the ideal curriculum was thought to be, not one rich in a variety ^ schools 
 
 1 Compare Ch. X. 2 Thoughts on Education, 176.
 
 12 Principles of Education 
 
 of content, but rather one bare of all material that through its 
 inherent interest would distract the mind from attention to 
 the mere process of learning. Such severe training was re- 
 garded as the one thing needful. A man educated by such 
 methods had no need of a memory crammed with this or that 
 bit of knowledge, nor would he be embarrassed by the lack of 
 this or that mechanic art or professional device. Not the facts, 
 but the ability to find them surely and quickly ; not rules of 
 thumb, but the intelligence to learn, improve, or invent these as 
 circumstances may make wise ; such powers are the basis of 
 the highest efficiency, and they are the goal of standard edu- 
 cation. So reasons the disciplinarian, and the argument 
 seems fascinating, plausible. No doubt in part it is true. 
 
 But in practice it has one great tactical weakness. It can 
 be used to defend almost any curriculum. It saved the school- 
 master while he remained exclusively a classicist. When, 
 however, new subjects came one by one knocking at the gate 
 of the temple of learning, it was futile to deny them admission 
 on the ground that the old subjects furnished such valuable 
 discipline. This merit must be ascribed to any study properly 
 done. 
 
 Seif-reaiiza- (5) Sdf-realization. The Enlightenment of the eighteenth 
 ideaUf the century brought with it a new realization of the importance of 
 Enlighten- individuality. Whether as a revolution against the formalism, 
 the artificiality, and the tyranny of social conventions, litera- 
 ture, religion, government, and education during the preceding 
 absolutistic age, or as an attempt at a reconstruction of these 
 phases of human activity on sound and stable foundations, it 
 is the rights of man, the sacredness of personality, that are 
 everywhere emphasized. In consequence, the age formulated 
 more clearly than had ever been done before the ethical and 
 educational ideal of self-realization. 
 
 The revolutionary phase of this ideal is illustrated in the
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 13 
 
 conception of negative education entertained by Rousseau. 
 Education, he thinks, like government, should "let alone." 
 The best government is that which imposes least restraint; 
 the best education is self-education. This proposition is based 
 on the idea that the child has within him all that is necessary 
 to insure the most fitting destiny, and that his growth toward 
 this goal is warped or stunted by positive education. 
 
 "Everything is good as it came from the author of nature ; Rousseau 
 everything degenerates in the hands of man. All that on natura ' 
 
 , . , . . , j i i i self-devel- 
 
 we have not at birth, and which we require when grown up, opm ent 
 is bestowed on us by education. This education we receive 
 from nature, from men, or from things. The internal develop- 
 ment of our organs and faculties is the education of nature ; 
 the use we are taught to make of the development is the edu- 
 cation given us by men ; and in the acquisitions made by our 
 own experience in regard to the objects that surround us con- 
 sists our education from things. . . . Since the concurrence 
 of these three kinds of education is necessary, it is by that one 
 which is entirely independent of us that we must regulate the two 
 others." 1 
 
 Education should therefore, Rousseau believes, be "accord- 
 ing to Nature." It should aim simply to insure the free 
 development of those potentialities with which nature has 
 endowed the child. In this conception Pestalozzi and Froebel 
 were followers of Rousseau. Thus Pestalozzi asserts : 
 
 "All the pure and beneficent powers of humanity are neither Pestalozzi 
 the products of art nor the results of chance. They are really andFroe- 
 a natural possession of every man." 2 realization' 
 
 "If we desire to aid the poor man, the very lowest among 
 the people, this can be done in one way only, that is by chang- 
 ing his schools into true places of education, in which the moral, 
 intellectual, and physical powers which God has put into our 
 nature may be drawn out. 1 ' 3 
 
 1 Emile, Book I. * Evening Hours of a Hermit, No. 8. 
 
 1 Quoted by Morf, Part i, p. an.
 
 14 Principles of Education 
 
 In the same strain Froebel declares : 
 
 "By education, then, the divine essence of man should be 
 unfolded, brought out, lifted into consciousness, and man 
 himself raised into free conscious obedience to the divine prin- 
 ciple that lives in him and to a free representation of this prin- 
 ciple in his life." 1 
 
 Emphasis on But the Swiss and the German were not merely negative 
 LstnictLm an( ^ revolutionary in their notion of the aim and process of 
 for seif-de- education. To each the course of self-realization was one that 
 
 velopment, , . . 
 
 especially required the constant support and supervision of the teacher 
 by Herbart j es |. j t g O wron g. The importance of this process of instruction 
 is so much emphasized by Herbart that one is likely to lose 
 sight of the fact that he too may be called a believer in the ideal 
 of self-realization. Nevertheless, we cannot characterize his 
 views otherwise. 
 
 "We call the first part of the educational aim, many-sidedness 
 of interest, which must be distinguished from its exaggeration 
 dabbling in many things." This must be "proportionate many- 
 sidedness. We shall thus get the meaning of the common 
 expression 'harmonious cultivation of all the powers.' " 2 
 
 This many-sidedness, according to Herbart, finds its function 
 in furnishing the material in thought and feeling upon which 
 moral strength of character may be founded. 
 
 "Thus it is not a certain number of separate aims that hover 
 before us now, .^ . . but chiefly the activity of the growing 
 man the totality of his inward unconditioned vitality and 
 susceptibility. The greater this totality the fuller, more 
 expanded and harmonious the greater is the perfection, 
 and the greater the promise of the realization of our good 
 will." 3 
 
 1 Education of Man, 5. Science of Education, Book I, Ch. II, II. 
 
 3 Ibid.
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 15 
 
 Thus the Herbartian conception is that of feeding all the 
 interests that are innate in the individual, so that when fully 
 expanded, or when, in other words, the circle of thought is 
 complete, the will may be free and righteous. Here we have 
 the ideal of perfection, and of perfection through what is in 
 effect self-realization, although the realism of Herbart leads 
 him to dwell rather more upon the instruction of the teacher 
 than upon the self-activity of the pupil. 
 
 In the idea of self-realization the conception of personal 
 culture receives its most philosophic, its most inclusive state- 
 ment. The " harmonious development of all the powers" ization 
 constitutes a formula that covers spiritual culture, social and 
 aesthetic culture, knowledge, and discipline. These powers 
 may be conceived as the faculties of the disciplinarian, the 
 interests of Herbart, or the instincts of modern psychology. 
 We may with the evolutionist look upon their development 
 as the budding forth in the individual of the inheritance which 
 we draw from the countless ages of the history of life ; or after 
 the fashion of the idealists, Fichte and Hegel, we may regard 
 this process as the revelation of mind to itself. 
 
 These considerations suggest that our formula is so compre- Conception 
 hensive as to be meaningless. But if it constitutes a summary ka^on^n 
 of all the ideals of personal culture, it can be no more devoid need of 
 of definition than the factors of which it is composed. Indeed, definition 
 one may, if he choose, show that the endeavor to define each 
 of these ideals is likely to involve ultimately all the others. 
 Spiritual culture finds the virtues it inculcates largely by noting 
 the needs of society. Universal knowledge is an aim both of 
 spiritual culture and of education for leisure. Mental disci- 
 pline includes spiritual discipline, and, like it, gets meaning 
 from the social, artistic, and intellectual uses to which it can 
 be put. Thus we may suspect that, if self-realization is an 
 indefinite ideal, its vagueness arises from an inherent quality
 
 jg Principles of Education 
 
 in all ideals of personal culture. This point becomes more 
 clear when we compare this educational aim with its antithesis, 
 the aim of efficiency. 
 
 SECTION 2. Efficiency versus personal culture as the educa- 
 tional aim 
 
 Method of de- Any one who conceives the ideal of education to be personal 
 the mean- culture is compelled to look within the individual to find that 
 ing d) of w hich constitutes the objective point of all training. Thus 
 Sre! some form of psychological analysis of the personality must be 
 invoked. We look within, and find a soul longing for perfection 
 of some sort, for an eternal reign of righteousness to satisfy 
 its ethical cravings, for universal knowledge to meet its intel- 
 lectual powers and aspirations, for beauty and social elegance 
 to please its taste, and in these somewhat abstract objects 
 toward which the elemental human functions direct themselves 
 we find the goal of education. Or, perhaps, looking still further 
 within, we find in the cultivation of the functions themselves 
 without reference to results a more fundamental educational 
 aim. Mental discipline or self-realization, processes which 
 derive their content wholly from an analysis of the nature 
 of the individual, are fixed upon as the essence of education. 
 One is led to think that the schoolmaster is not concerned 
 with satisfying human cravings, but rather with nourishing 
 these and training their power to feed themselves. 
 ( a ) of effi- On the other hand, the ideal of efficiency directs the atten- 
 tion not within, but outward to the environment, to the condi- 
 tions of life. Assuming' human nature to be what it is, the 
 utilitarian considers the problem of training it to do in the 
 life situations in which it finds itself the things that are felt 
 to be worth while. The question is not what powers does the 
 individual possess, but rather what powers wiU he need?
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 17 
 
 Psychology 
 as deter- 
 minative 
 of the 
 means of 
 education ; 
 the condi- 
 tions of 
 life as de- 
 termining 
 its end 
 
 Psychological analysis from this point of view finds its use as a 
 method of arriving at a knowledge of the means of education 
 rather than of its ends. To teach a child, one must know 
 what and how this child can learn. But to determine the ends 
 of education, we must discover by objective analysis the nature 
 of the circumstances with which the cultured man will have to 
 cope. He will need certain virtues to get on satisfactorily in 
 society, and certain social accomplishments not only to enjoy 
 himself therein, but also to command social influence, that 
 most important of all instrumentalities for effective living. 
 As for knowledge, he should have only what he can use, and 
 if that be too much for him to learn, then the school should 
 teach him that which he is likely to find of the greatest use. 
 The question of whether the child is realizing the potentialities 
 of his nature is unimportant. The vital consideration is 
 whether he is learning to do those things which will make him 
 as an adult one who in the judgment of the world is an efficient 
 man and citizen. 
 
 One of the most interesting and best known formulations of 
 the aim of efficiency is that of Herbert Spencer. Education, 
 he thinks, is for "complete living," which includes 
 
 "Not how to live in the mere material sense only, but in the Spencer on 
 widest sense. The general problem which comprehends every the details 
 special problem is the right ruling of conduct in all direc- 
 tions under all circumstances. In what way to treat the body ; 
 in what way to treat the mind ; in what way to manage our 
 affairs ; in what way to bring up a family ; in what way to 
 behave as a citizen ; in what way to utilize all those sources 
 of happiness which nature supplies ? " l 
 
 All this we may sum up in that favorite phrase of the evo- 
 lutionist "adaptation to environment." By environment is 
 here meant not merely that of physical nature, but also that of 
 
 1 Education, Ch. I. 
 c 
 
 of complete 
 living
 
 1 8 Principles of Education 
 
 civilization into which nature has so largely been transformed. 
 Thus President Butler declares : 
 
 Butler on the "The entire educational period after the physical adjust- 
 factors of a men t has been made, after the child can walk alone, can feed 
 justment *to itself, can use its hands, and has therefore acquired physical 
 life of to-day and bodily independence, is an adjustment to what may be 
 called our spiritual environment. Thus education means 
 a gradual adjustment to the spiritual possessions of the race. 
 Those possessions may be variously classified, but they cer- 
 tainly are at least fivefold. The child is entitled to his scien- 
 tific inheritance, to his literary inheritance, to his aesthetic 
 inheritance, to his institutional inheritance, and to his religious 
 inheritance. Without them he cannot become a truly edu- 
 cated or a cultivated man." * 
 
 We must be adjusted to this spiritual, this social environ- 
 ment in order to succeed, to be efficient. To find what edu- 
 cation should aim to do we must study the specific problems 
 that time, place, and circumstance will bring to confront the 
 graduates of our schools. Each type of school will have a 
 special task, if, indeed, the classification of its pupils does not 
 reveal several tasks that are quite distinct. The teachers must 
 study the natures of their pupils, not primarily to find out 
 what there is to be brought to realization, but rather to dis- 
 cover to what uses they can be put. Psychological analysis 
 reveals a mass of raw material in the way of instincts, powers, 
 tastes, and it is the first problem of the schoolmaster to deter- 
 mine what of this crude ore it will pay to work, 
 utility of the In discussing the relation of these two ideals, efficiency and 
 
 education , ,^ _ . , 
 
 for personal personal culture, I wish at this time to emphasize two points. 
 The first of these has already been mentioned. It is that, 
 although in different ages the school may emphasize now the 
 one, now the other educational aim, nevertheless, neither is 
 
 1 The Meaning of Education.
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 19 
 
 ever wholly neglected. All the forms of personal culture have 
 fostered efficiency. The practical service of the ideal of spirit- 
 ual culture in the social evolution of man was unquestionably 
 enormous. Even the asceticism of the Middle Ages had a 
 tremendous effect in exalting the standards of value in worldly 
 conduct. The constant presence in those rude ages of the 
 spectacle of cowl of monk and spire of cathedral kept the mind 
 infused with the sense of the eternity that they symbolized. 
 In stirring intellectual aspiration, heroic devotion to truth, 
 justice, and charity, in promoting peace and good will, this 
 consciousness worked to prepare not merely for eternity but 
 also for civilization. The educational ideal of the Renaissance, 
 aiming to train for leadership in statecraft and especially in 
 diplomacy through literary and philosophic culture, was 
 explicitly utilitarian. Bacon, who may be called the leading 
 inspirer of the pansophic ideal, dreamed of a reconstruction 
 of the conditions of life through the discoveries of the new 
 science. 
 
 "Now the true and lawful goal of the sciences is none other Bacon on 
 than this : that human life be endowed with new discoveries scientific 
 and powers. But of this the great majority have no feeling, 
 but are merely hireling and professional ; except when it occa- of recon- 
 sionally happens that some workman of acuter wit and covetous stmcting 
 of honor applies himself to a new invention ; which he mostly ^ ar 
 does at the expense of his fortunes. But, in general, so far are 
 men from proposing to themselves to augment the mass of 
 arts and sciences that from the mass already at hand they 
 neither take nor look for anything more than they can turn to 
 use in their lectures, or to gain, or to reputation, or to some 
 similar advantage." * 
 
 The possibilities of human intelligence, when once it turns 
 itself resolutely to the task of endowing human life with 
 
 1 Novum Organum, Book I, Aphorism LXXXI.
 
 2o Principles of Education 
 
 "new discoveries and powers," are partially foreshadowed in 
 the dream of "Saloman's House" or the "College of the Six 
 Days' Work," of which he says : 
 
 "The end of our Foundation is the knowledge of Causes 
 and secret motions of things and the enlargement of the bounds 
 of Human Empire, to the effecting of all things possible." 1 
 
 It is true that the pansophic ideal could hardly be said either 
 in the school or in life to have been interpenetrated with the 
 utilitarian spirit until in the last century. Herein lies, perhaps, 
 the reason for its failure to influence more widely the curricu- 
 lum. Realism had to show its uses before it could shake the 
 reign of the classics, for these had been useful, and even after 
 their specific use came to be doubtful, the argument from their 
 disciplinary value was a distinct endeavor to save them 
 because of the higher utility thus attributed to them. It 
 follows that mental discipline aims in reality at efficiency, 
 somewhat vaguely conceived. The ideal of self-realization 
 however, seems to be without mitigation individualistic and 
 perfectionistic. But it is to be noted that with Rousseau, and 
 especially with Pestalozzi, it included the ability to make one's 
 livelihood through a vocation rather closely in contact with 
 Nature. So, too, Froebel, idealist though he was, found in the 
 vocation a symbol of the divine activity which education 
 should foster. 
 
 Personal oil- It may be asked why, if these ideals all have their utilitarian 
 dude s m but s ^ e > the * r reaction upon practical life, do we speak of them as 
 fails to ideals of personal culture rather than of efficiency. The answer 
 
 emphasize , . . 
 
 efficiency is that it is largely a matter of emphasis. In the past we have 
 been thinking of personal culture as an end in itself. Effi- 
 ciency was not utterly neglected, but it was overshadowed 
 by idealism. Similarly, it cannot be said that the utilitarian- 
 
 1 Nova Atlantis.
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 21 
 
 ism of to-day means a total abandonment of idealism. It is 
 merely a question of emphasis, and from the standpoint of 
 general progress we may suspect that this shifting of attention 
 has been on the whole a symptom of health. By this I mean 
 no defense of utilitarianism as an ultimate philosophy of life, 
 but rather an insistence on the place and service of the practical 
 attitude in relation to human progress. 
 
 The tentative definition of that service constitutes the Function of 
 second point which I wish to make in criticism of the relation 
 
 of the ideals of personal culture and of efficiency. Put briefly, dencv ^ 
 
 . . / rr selective 
 
 we may say that the essential junction of the conception of effi- 
 ciency is to serve as a criterion to determine among rival courses 
 of study and methods of teaching those which should prevail. 
 The ideals of personal culture furnish us no such criteria. 
 One of the most effective expressions of this fact is that of 
 Professor Dewey. 
 
 "It is said the end of education may be stated in purely Dewey's crit- 
 
 individual terms. For example, it is said to be the harmonious ttuTiack of 
 
 development of all the powers of the individual. Here we have meaning in 
 
 no apparent reference to social life or membership, and yet it the idea 
 
 is argued we have an adequate and thoroughgoing definition harmom- 
 
 of what the goal of education is. But if this definition is taken pment of 
 
 independently of social relationship, we shall find that we have all the 
 
 no standard or criterion for telling what is meant by any one P wers " 
 of the terms concerned. We do not know what a power is ; we 
 do not know what development is ; we do not know what har- 
 mony is ; a power is a power with reference to the use to which 
 it is put, the function it has to serve." 1 
 
 The positive conclusion to which this criticism forces us is 
 that we cannot determine the end of education except by a 
 consideration of the social life for an entrance to which it 
 constitutes the preparation. To use Professor Dewey's illus- 
 
 1 Ethical Principles underlying Education.
 
 22 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 All ideals of 
 personal 
 culture 
 need defi- 
 nition 
 through 
 use 
 
 tration, as a manufacturer's aim is to supply a demand which 
 he discovers from a study of what people like and need, so the 
 teacher's work should be determined by a consideration of 
 what society as a whole requires of those who succeed. Edu- 
 cation should aim at adaptation to environment. 
 
 When we endeavor to put content into any of the ideals of 
 personal culture, we find the same difficulty as with the ideal 
 of self-realization. What is spiritual culture? What educa- 
 tion prepares for eternity? We know so little about that 
 career of immortality that we are compelled to decide in favor 
 of that which demonstrates its value for life here, and it is 
 evident that those spiritual excellences that have survived as 
 permanent aims for the culture of to-day are such as have 
 proved their efficacy in fostering our civilization. Asceticism 
 remains as long as extreme examples of disregard for worldly 
 success are necessary to progress in general worldly prosperity. 
 It tends to disappear just in so far as it becomes useless. 
 Social and aesthetic culture have no means of determining what 
 fashions and manners or what artistic cults should be en- 
 couraged in education except as these contribute to the general 
 effectiveness of social life, or, in other words, furnish the 
 adaptation to a social order that proves through persistent 
 survival its title to permanence. The absurdity of the pan- 
 sophic scheme of education, when faced with the almost infinite 
 variety of knowledge that research has to-day accumulated, is 
 so evident that the need of a criterion to winnow out the 
 small fraction of the known that should be taught goes without 
 question. Again, we have seen how mental discipline, since it 
 can be obtained equally well from any subject, provided this 
 be studied properly, leaves us to study what we choose, or 
 what the schoolmaster prefers that we choose. 
 
 Now an aim of education that does not tell us what the 
 content of education should be is manifestly inadequate.
 
 Various Conceptions of the Aim of Education 23 
 
 of the aim 
 of effi- 
 ciency to 
 determine 
 the ends 
 which 
 utility 
 should 
 serve 
 
 The ideals of personal culture leave the schoolmaster to lead 
 his pupil whither he will, through this desert of famine or that 
 meadow of sport, and on the way he may gather flowers or 
 pebbles or dust and ashes. There is no ultimate goal the 
 arrival at which is the evidence that the route has been properly 
 chosen and the genuine treasures of the wayside discovered 
 and garnered. 
 
 On the other hand, the test of efficiency when taken alone is inadequacy 
 equally inadequate to determine the content of education. 
 The explication and defense of this view will for the most part 
 be left until the outlines of the theory of education that it is 
 intended to present are all sketched in, but we may here note 
 that whatever is useful is useful for something. Hence, in the 
 final good things, when once they have been discovered, must lie 
 the ultimate value of all our utilities. It follows that, while 
 Professor Dewey's criticism of the ideal of self-realization is 
 sound, the implication that it conveys as to the adequacy of 
 the idea of adjustment in determining the definite character 
 of the content of education is in need of amendment, or at 
 least of supplementary explanation. He finds the aim of edu- 
 cation in adjustment to social conditions. It is so largely 
 because these social conditions are embodiments of the ap- 
 proved methods of meeting the wants of the individual. It is 
 my conviction that these wants can be traced to no other source 
 than the nature of the individual who feels them. 
 
 In the succeeding pages an attempt will be made to develop 
 and defend this view. It will suffice here to recall our prelim- 
 inary statement of the function of the ideal of utility. It 
 serves as a criterion to determine among rival courses of study 
 and methods of teaching those that should prevail. It does 
 not answer the question what, but rather the question which. 
 We must have alternatives before we can apply it. It does 
 not create the content of education, nor the ends of life, but
 
 24 Principles of Education 
 
 rather selects the one to fit the other. Like the clearing house 
 it produces no values, but serves the indispensable purpose of 
 adjusting the values that exist. 
 
 Education a The modern tendency is to approach the discussion of the 
 evolution theory of education from the point of view of adjustment, 
 since it This formula can, moreover, be made to involve all the issues 
 justment " that our theory should embrace. Hence, we can do no better 
 than be both modern and comprehensive by denning educa- 
 tion in terms of adjustment, and proceeding to develop the 
 implications of our definition. Since our formula is essen- 
 tially one of evolutionary theory, we are naturally faced at 
 once with the problem of the part of education in organic and 
 social evolution. In this analysis we should discover the prin- 
 ciples that underlie the nature of the process of education in 
 the individual and the character of the educational agencies.
 
 PART I 
 
 EDUCATION AS A FACTOR IN ORGANIC AND SOCIAL 
 EVOLUTION
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 READJUSTMENT: ITS MEANING, CONDITIONS, AND METHODS 
 
 SECTION 3. Meaning and fundamental conditions of 
 readjustment 
 
 WE have agreed to characterize the aim of education as Education as 
 efficiency, as adjustment. The process of education will ment" 5 
 therefore be that by means of which the individual is brought 
 into adaptation to his environment or readjusted. This 
 statement is, indeed, merely a formula, and it may sound at 
 first like a barren one. But it should be remembered that 
 the reasons that force its selection are drawn from the fact that 
 it enables us to decide upon the content of education. Hence, 
 however abstract it may seem, it is nevertheless indispensable, 
 and an analysis of its meaning and implications in connection 
 with life, whether individual or social, becomes in point. 
 
 Let us assume that this investigation should begin with a Readjust- 
 study of the process of readjustment in its lowest terms, ^versai 
 Evidently it is not peculiar to human beings, but applies to all " Ufe 
 life. If we conceive of education as readjustment, we can 
 scarcely limit it to man. The distinction between training 
 and education, the latter being confined in its application to 
 humanity, 1 disappears. Education is an universal process in 
 the world of organisms. Wherever there is an inner activity 
 striving to preserve its identity and to foster its own peculiar 
 aims in the midst of circumstances, some hostile, some favor- 
 able, there we have that struggle toward adaptation which 
 
 1 See Rosenkranz, Philosophy of Education, 14. 
 27
 
 28 Principles of Education 
 
 constitutes the fundamental nature of the process of educa- 
 tion. We have outer stimuli, the effect of which is dissatis- 
 faction ; we have inner growth, the proper result of which is 
 a restoration of the equilibrium of the feelings. The entire 
 activity must be conceived as teleological, as having an end or 
 aim. 
 
 The ascription of a purposiveness to the activities of all 
 ness^iT 6 " living beings does not involve one in the assumption that con- 
 simpler sciousness in the ordinary sense of the term is universal therein. 
 
 forms of re- . . . , * .11 -i^ 11 
 
 adjust- To suppose this would certainly be to commit the psycholo- 
 gist's fallacy." * One has only to mean by a purpose that ten- 
 dency on the part of each living being to maintain and, 
 perhaps, to enhance the conditions that make for the preserva- 
 tion of its identity. Herein we have a cause, i.e., the perma- 
 nency or continuity of the individual, that seems to point to- 
 ward the future. It is a force from before rather than one from 
 behind. Hence we may justly call it a final cause. That it 
 has not yet assumed the form of clear consciousness does not 
 imply that it must be construed merely as a blind energy. 
 It is a force of direction, not one of execution. 2 Its function 
 in the life of the organism is as little mechanical as is that of 
 the most deliberate volition. An unconscious want is no more 
 to be classed under the head of physical forces than is judg- 
 ment itself. It is a principle of organization, of direction, 
 even though it lacks awareness of its own significance. Its 
 function seems to be that of deciding between alternatives, a 
 statement that applies equally well to the human will and to 
 the selective powers of the paramcecium. 3 
 Education then means a struggle toward better adjustment. 
 
 1 Compare James, Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, Ch. VII. 
 
 2 See Solomon, Alleged Proof of Parallelism from the Conservation of Energy, 
 Philos. Rev., March, 1899. 
 
 1 Compare Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, Ch. III.
 
 Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 29 
 
 It exists because there is a lack of harmony between the organ- 
 ism and its environment, and because the organism has within 
 it a sensitiveness to this condition, and the power to initiate 
 activities that on the whole make for better conditions. The 
 controlling forces in education are the wants of the organism, 
 its capacities, and the external conditions with which these 
 internal forces are striving to cope. All of these forces are 
 intimately related to each other. The capacities evolve into 
 actual powers under the stimulus of the conditions that they 
 seem designed to master. Whether they are merely accidental, 
 inexplicable variations, or whether they are necessary, though 
 at first hidden, properties of living beings, they wait the 
 proper conjunction of circumstances before they can reveal 
 themselves and act. So, too, the wants of the individual take 
 form under the pressure of events. The external conditions 
 set the standard in terms of which desire and capacity are 
 realized, or made specific and concrete. On the other hand, 
 mere circumstances do not account for life, for growth, for 
 evolution. It is the merest platitude to say that conditions 
 do not make the man, but only offer him his opportunity. 
 It is quite as true that external forces can do nothing for any 
 plant or animal except to stimulate inherent tendencies. 
 Cultivation can provide only a better chance for growth, 
 which is always from within. 
 
 By those whose studies have led them to observe the tre- 
 mendous influence that nature has upon history, or the extent 
 to which living processes can be explained in terms of the 
 physical movements and the chemical reactions found illus- 
 trated in the phenomena of the inorganic world, the environ- 
 ment is likely to be regarded as all in all. That each new 
 research into the causes of social evolution states more clearly 
 the external conditions to meet which human growth took 
 place cannot be denied. So, too, each new study of the physics 
 
 Controlling 
 factors in 
 readjust- 
 ment 
 
 Interdepend- 
 ence of the 
 external 
 and inter- 
 nal factors 
 in read- 
 justment 
 
 Evolution 
 not ex- 
 plained by 
 environ- 
 mental 
 conditions
 
 jo Principles of Education 
 
 of living matter convinces us that the intelligent comprehen- 
 sion of its laws can come only through physics and more 
 physics. But while the burden of our effort is thus turned 
 toward the mechanics of life and society, we can scarcely say 
 that the meaning of the processes is in the least made clear by 
 such studies, any more than a thorough knowledge of the mech- 
 anism of a threshing machine would convey to a person who 
 knows nothing whatever about grain any conception concerning 
 its function. Even should the chemist by some trick of manipu- 
 lation succeed in developing in his laboratory a living thing, 
 he could not understand it except in terms of those internal 
 wants and capacities, the analogue to which he finds only in 
 himself considered as a being having feelings and will. 
 
 The fact that both desire and capacity may be said to be 
 dependent upon external conditions for the form that they 
 assume cannot, therefore, be advanced to destroy our natural 
 belief in their distinctness and reality. We have here some- 
 thing more than the physical facts in terms of which they 
 express themselves, as the meaning is more than the word. 
 Accepting, therefore, both the internal and external factors 
 in the life process as equally fundamental, let us attend 
 again to the nature of the situations in which the readjustment 
 Education that we have called education takes place. Manifestly there 
 
 by lack of must be a lack of harmony between organism and environment. 
 
 adaptation Moreover, if the process of growth is to be continuous, there 
 must be in operation agencies that continually frustrate the 
 endeavor of the organism to effect complete adjustment. As 
 a matter of fact, we find that this is so. No such thing as 
 complete adaptation exists in nature. Even where it seems to 
 exist, experience proves that there are forces at work that will 
 ultimately destroy the balance and result in change in the 
 direction either of growth or decay. 
 These forces may be summed up under two heads, changes
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 31 
 
 in the environment and changes in the organism. That the Changes that 
 first of these exists and is continually operative to provoke 
 new adjustment on the part of the organism is patent. The aptaUon 
 character of such changes and the types of environment 
 dependent on this fact offer the initial explanation of the 
 functions of the various classes of living beings and the clew 
 to a comprehension of their evolution. But external change, 
 although the initial stimulus of growth, is not the only one. 
 The process of growth brings about changes in the organism 
 that themselves tend to throw it out of gear with its life con- 
 ditions. Since growth is change, it is subject to a law of inertia 
 that forbids it to stop when the external conditions that stim- 
 ulated it cease to trouble. Newton's first law of motion has 
 its analogy in the physiological and psychical realms. The 
 fuller discussion of these two principles of change will follow 
 in the two succeeding sections. 
 
 To summarize the discussion of this section, we may say Summary 
 that, accepting the definition of education in terms of adjust- 
 ment, we undertake to study more closely the meaning and 
 implications of this as a general process of life and of evolution. 
 It is found to consist in the development on the part of the 
 organism of certain powers whereby it may better secure the 
 satisfaction of its wants in a given environment. Wants and 
 capacities both get their definition from the circumstances in 
 conjunction with which they appear. They are, however, 
 more than these circumstances, and reveal in themselves the 
 true significance of the life process, which is, therefore, teleologi- 
 cal. The occasion for growth is furnished primarily by changes 
 in the environment which stimulate growth. This process of 
 internal expansion, however, is subject to a law of inertia that 
 tends to destroy any equilibrium which may be established 
 between the organism and its external conditions.
 
 32 Principles of Education 
 
 SECTION 4. Environmental variability 
 
 It has been said that changes in the environment constitute 
 ^ e P rmiar y stimulus to growth. A variable environment 
 and educa- will, therefore, be one in which the process of readjustment, 
 of education, will be much in evidence. In general, the varia- 
 bility of environments is in proportion to their complexity. 
 If we were to characterize environments as lower and higher, 
 meaning by these the conditions of life of lower and higher 
 orders of living beings, we should find the higher environments 
 by far the more complex and variable. Since the amount 
 and nature of this variability determines the quantity and 
 character of education, a preliminary comparison of lower and 
 higher environments from this point of view is here in place. 
 To facilitate this purpose the following contrasts are suggested : 
 (i) uniform environments versus those affected by seasonal 
 change ; (2) local versus regional environments ; (3) physical 
 versus social environments ; (4) natural versus artificial 
 environments. 
 
 ariability (i) Uniform environments versus those subject to seasonal 
 men" chm S e - ~ Tm ' s contrast may be concretely illustrated by the 
 seasonal deep-sea environment at the one extreme, and at the other, 
 
 change , , , 
 
 land surfaces in temperate or frigid zones. In general, of 
 course, torrid conditions are more uniform so far as seasons are 
 concerned than temperate or frigid ones, and bodies of water 
 are less affected by such changes than land surfaces. Not 
 only do these cases illustrate respectively uniformity and 
 variability in temperature, but also uniformity and variability 
 in food supply as well. This latter is to a great extent de- 
 pendent on temperature, and, moreover, the constant move- 
 ments in masses of water go far toward equalizing any changes 
 in nutritive conditions that might otherwise come to exist. 
 In contrast to this simplicity and uniformity, regions of
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 33 
 
 seasonal change present complexity and variety. To meet TWO methods 
 this condition new adaptations, new functions appear in the t/on^tcT* 
 organism. The higher environment is one that can be in- seasonal 
 habited only by more complex and more flexible species than 
 those which in the dawn of life find themselves able to exist 
 in the uniform conditions of the sea. The functions that cope 
 with the variations in temperature, food supply, moisture, etc., 
 which characterize seasonal conditions, may be classified under 
 two heads: first, methods of temporary protection against the 
 changes that the seasons bring; second, the power of move- 
 ment by which the animal is able to go from favorable to un- 
 favorable localities. 
 
 The protective adaptations are of great variety. Trees in (0 Protective 
 temperate or frigid zones change their internal conditions to tions * 
 prepare for the rigors of winter. The storing of food in the 
 tuber protected by the earth is another device on the part of 
 some plants to preserve the life of the individual during winter 
 and to provide it with a capital of food in the spring. Water 
 may be stored by desert plants. Animals hibernate, mean- 
 while consuming, if animation be not suspended, their own 
 tissue. With some the covering grows heavier with recurring 
 cold. Some simple organisms are desiccated in dry seasons, 
 and, as it were, come to life again when water is supplied. 1 
 Others contract and become encysted as a protection against 
 cold or other destructive physical or chemical forces. Fish 
 may become practically frozen stiff, so that vital activities are 
 suspended for the time being, to be resumed when the proper 
 temperature recurs. 2 
 
 (2) Local versus regional environments. Protective adap- (2) Power of 
 tations enable life to continue, usually in a passive form, during 
 the unfavorable season. They are for the most part negative 
 
 1 Compare Verworn, General Physiology (tr. by Lee), p. 279. 
 Ibid., p. 288. 
 D
 
 34 Principles of Education 
 
 adjustments. The power of movement permits its possessor 
 to seek a favorable environment, and thus actively to continue 
 the life processes without interruption. But change of 'place, 
 although it brings with it a certain uniformity in vital con- 
 ditions that is not enjoyed by organisms inhabiting one spot 
 or narrow locality, nevertheless requires a complexity of powers 
 and a flexibility in their use that far more than compensates 
 for the variety of protective adaptations that power of move- 
 Movement ment makes unnecessary. In brief, the muscular and sensory 
 ii- organs become necessary, the one to perform the movements, 
 
 cate body the other to direct these performances lest movement lead into 
 
 and the . , ... 
 
 power of mstead of away from unsatisfactory or dangerous conditions. 
 
 perception -j^ connec t these organs the nervous system must exist, and 
 to supply the energy necessary for this vigorous type of life 
 a more specialized digestive, circulatory, and respiratory 
 system must be developed. The animal requires a peculiar 
 and already partially prepared sort of food. It is a parasite 
 upon the plant world, or, perhaps, upon other animals. It 
 requires a more uniform temperature and supply of air, food, 
 etc. The deprivation of any necessity more quickly results 
 in death than in the case of the plant. Injury to one part is 
 more likely to bring about the death of the whole. 
 Evolution of In consequence, the animal must be able to detect the signs 
 
 or symbol of lack of adjustment very quickly. Indeed, it must be able 
 
 world to take account of signs that merely anticipate lack of adjust- 
 ment unless something is done to prevent this. In general, 
 the function that takes account of these symbols is that of 
 sensation. The various forms of sensation are cognizant 
 of the greatest variety of conditions. Delicate changes in 
 temperature or pressure, chemical properties that distinguish 
 tastes or odors, the form and color of objects and the sounds 
 that emanate from them, in short, the great world of perceived 
 things is for the higher animal called into existence by the
 
 ean " 
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 35 
 
 senses in order that it may by interpreting this aright preserve 
 that uniformity in specialized conditions of life that is necessary 
 for its existence. Its great resource is its power of movement. 
 Its great guide in utilizing this resource is its power of sensation. 
 
 This world of sense is therefore a symbolic world. It does 
 not consist of changes in the vital conditions, but rather in Variability in 
 that which is symbolic of these. The symbols are far more ^ e f e 
 numerous, far more complex and variable than the things sensory 
 symbolized. An enemy or food may be suggested by a percep- 
 tion of the eye, by a sound, or by an odor. Indeed, the range 
 of symbols that may be significant seems practically unlimited, 
 whereas the conditions that they indicate are comparatively 
 few and simple. The meaning of a symbol depends upon the 
 context of sensations. A patch of red swaying gently to and 
 fro means a harmless leaf ; one that moves steadily in the same 
 direction may mean a deadly foe. The variety and complex- 
 ity of these symbols implies their variability. The interpreting 
 mind is forced continually to learn new meanings and to un- 
 learn old ones, to distinguish between the significance of a 
 symbol in one context from that in another, to discriminate 
 between infallible and probable signs. 
 
 The more extensive the range of symbols that the animal Protection 
 can perceive and interpret, the greater becomes its power of 
 effecting adjustments through anticipatory action, and hence 
 the more secure its life. It purchases safety at the price of 
 eternal vigilance. It must be alert to a multitude of things 
 that for the lower type of life simply do not exist. Moreover, 
 its power of interpreting carries with it a power of mistaking 
 symbols. It must possess the power of quickly correcting 
 mistakes, of making reinterpretations, or its weapon of defense 
 will prove only the instrument of its own destruction. Ca- 
 pacity for education must keep pace with the evolution of 
 power of movement and its directing sentiency.
 
 36 Principles of Education 
 
 Forms of so- (3) Physical versus social environments. The contrast 
 
 1 between physical "and social environments illustrates similar 
 
 facts. Social phenomena may take the form of competition 
 
 Varieties of or that of cooperation. The lowest form of competition ap- 
 pears as a result of growth. and multiplication of living beings 
 in any locality. Each affects the life of the others because all 
 have a common feeding ground. Such competition is not 
 direct, inasmuch as individuals do not directly attack each 
 other, but merely affect the general life conditions by subtract- 
 ing from the general fund of food, water, sunlight, etc. Higher 
 ' methods of competing are more direct. Parasitism, where one 
 individual or species devours others, illustrates a struggle in 
 which the contest is, as it were, hand to hand. Plants may 
 consume each other, animals all prey upon plants, and the 
 carnivores upon other animals. A higher form of direct com- 
 petition involves the struggle to remove others in order that 
 desirable conditions may be monopolized. Perhaps the highest 
 form of competition is again indirect, involving not competi- 
 tion in consumption but rather in social recognition. Here 
 the endeavor is to gain a social reward through social service 
 or conformity to social ideals. 
 
 Competition The multiplication of living beings makes life itself more 
 seSrity 6 secure, but at the same time renders the problem of life for the 
 
 Ad that ati t nS individual more complex and variable. To meet these condi- 
 requires tions new adjustments arise, and these are particularly in 
 evidence among orders that engage in either direct competi- 
 tion or struggle for social recognition. Muscular strength and 
 swiftness and keenness of sense gain enormously in value, and 
 protective armor, teeth, claws, horns, cunning, evolve to 
 contribute to effectiveness in the fierce struggle. Competi- 
 tion for social recognition involves the social instinct, and, as 
 a rule, the higher intellectual powers which are summed up 
 in rationality.
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Met/iods 37 
 
 The struggle with living beings not only involves an ex- Competition 
 
 . , , *" . , .a continual 
 
 traordmary array of special adaptations, but the problem of readjust- 
 
 readjustment comes especially in evidence. In the contest 
 
 with inorganic nature the organism encounters an adversary ing rival 
 
 that is all-powerful but at the same time blind and mechani- 
 
 cally uniform. The living rival, however, is continually chang- 
 
 ing his tactics to meet the successful inventions of his enemy. 
 
 In competition the animal is compelled continually to readjust 
 
 himself to conditions the variability of which is a function of 
 
 his own power of readjustment. He has to learn to meet, 
 
 not only the present methods of his adversary, but also the 
 
 methods by which this antagonist will counter his new devices. 
 
 He must take account of and strive to fathom that environ- 
 
 ment of mind that to the living being which is concerned only 
 
 with physical nature is non-existent, an environment the va- 
 
 riations of which are dependent upon conditions so capricious 
 
 that the indeterminists have declared them to obey no uniform 
 
 law, and hence to be beyond the ken of foresight. 
 
 But competition alone without cooperation can scarcely Powers in- 
 be said to introduce the animal into the inner depths of that 
 psychical or social environment that lies about him. Co- 
 operation is the true revealer of mind to mind ; or rather, the 
 regime of cooperation in its higher phases is impossible without 
 such revelation, and so without the social and moral instincts 
 and the intelligence that lifts man above the brutes. Co- 
 operation has its lower levels, in which it is a result of mere 
 blind instinct, and in these phases it antedates the higher forms 
 of competition. Indeed, group competition and competition 
 for social recognition depend on cooperation. But on its 
 higher levels cooperation involves more than such knowledge 
 of the activities of mind as enables one to destroy another. 
 In such a contest strength and good fortune are often more 
 effective than wit, and wit itself is of that low order that
 
 38 Principles of Education 
 
 contents itself with "treasons and stratagems." Intelligent 
 cooperation means such mental and moral power as enables 
 one mind to influence another, to control it, to reduce it to 
 subservience, or to inspire it to independence, to govern, to 
 exploit, to educate, to uplift. 
 
 Especial van- If to a rival the problem of struggle is one of continual read- 
 the^condi- justment to one who is himself readjusting, this factor of 
 tionsofco- fathoming and dealing with the variable becomes more in 
 evidence when an attempt is made to reach those mainsprings 
 of human action that must be touched to bring about coopera- 
 tion. To be a companion, a benefactor, a ruler, or a teacher 
 demands a comprehension of human attitudes, ideas, and 
 motives, a knowledge of the laws of human nature that is 
 exhaustless. Hence, the one who cooperates must perpetually 
 learn. He is striving to determine the nature of a mind and 
 will, which because it is a living mind and will is itself contin- 
 ually active, growing and determining in new ways both itself 
 and others. 
 
 Security of The social environment brings with it a security that amply 
 ronment' repays the struggle to preserve adjustment to it, to learn its 
 ofcoopera- variable ways. From parental fosterage to military protec- 
 tion, and on to the law, order, education, and philanthropy of 
 civilization a steady advance has been made in rendering the 
 resources of the individual identical with those of the group 
 New wants as or of humanity. Society is a mutual insurance company 
 
 the price of . , , . * 
 
 society against the uncertainties of the struggle with the elements or 
 with hostile life. Moreover, just as the vital conditions for 
 the animal are more specialized than for the plant, and as 
 through any deficiency it may more quickly be brought to 
 ruin, so the demands of those functions that enable us to dwell 
 in social cooperation are more delicate and more exacting than 
 are the requirements of life in contact merely with physical 
 nature. For society means the interest of all in the welfare
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 39 
 
 of each and the dependence of each on the good will of all. 
 Hence one's needs are no longer limited to food and drink 
 and other physical wants, but include the welfare of one's 
 fellows and their approval. The instabilities of life in society 
 are due far more to the unhappiness of injured sympathies 
 or to the sense of social failure than to the lack of the actual 
 physical necessities of life. 
 
 (4) Natural versus artificial environments. Of all the func- The highest 
 tions, that one which addresses itself most directly to the task thafoT 
 of providing secure conditions of life is the power of creating creating 
 an artificial environment. By an artificial environment is meats " 
 meant those provisions by which a living being assures for him- 
 self the conditions of life when these would not be provided 
 by nature. Food is stored, shelter is provided against the 
 weather and living enemies. There is doubtless a natural 
 evolution from fat and fur to granary and clothing. With 
 the latter we have really come to what we may call an artificial 
 environment. From simply storing what nature gives in 
 excess in her moments of bounty, we come to control and de- 
 velop her powers of production and to elaborate these products. 
 The use of fire, weapons, tools, domestic animals, capital, Security of 
 institutions of society from the court of justice to the public Vj \^, 
 school, all these are illustrations of the ways and means by ronment 
 which man conies to substitute for the uncertainties of climate 
 and soil, for the caprice of fortune and the injustice of his 
 fellows, an artificial condition that means comparative uni- 
 formity, security, fair play, mercy, and finally more constant 
 and rapid progress toward better conditions. 
 
 The artificial environment consists of that which is created Provision for 
 to-day to be utilized to-morrow. It is the environment of J^ adjust- 
 anticipation and provision. In producing it the animal is menttova- 
 
 f nabihty 
 
 adjusting himself, not to the present emergency, but rather itself 
 to one as yet in the future. But if the adjustment to present
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Functions 
 that deal 
 with the 
 variable 
 
 emergencies demands constant learning and relearning, what 
 should we say about the efforts that are aimed to meet the 
 situations of hidden time to come ? When we enter that land 
 of mystery, our activities take on the character of mere prep- 
 arations to readjust, tentative, uncertain steps taken partly 
 to test the character of the ground, partly in the hope that it 
 may prove firm and our effort be not lost. Our products are 
 mere conjectures, hypotheses, surrounded by the atmosphere 
 of doubt, interpenetrated with the uncertainty that over- 
 comes us when we come to realize to how small a degree the 
 gift of prophecy is ours. We pile up alternative securities 
 that we may have abundant resources to fall back upon when 
 some fail. In adjusting ourselves to the future we are in a 
 very real sense endeavoring to cope, not with this or that 
 varying thing, but with variability itself. 
 
 The principal adaptations by which the individual is enabled 
 to create and master an artificial environment are intelligence 
 and persistence. The instincts of prevision expand into the 
 conscious foresight of man. Reasoning Professor James has 
 defined as the "power of dealing with novel data." Useful 
 in all higher environments, since variability is so universal 
 a characteristic of them, it, together with the moral persever- 
 ance which is necessary to render it effective, constitutes the 
 one thing needful in constructing that artificial condition the 
 essence of which is its adaptation to futurity and variability. 
 Reasoning endeavors to seize these fundamental laws of ex- 
 perience in terms of which all variation can be expressed, to 
 accumulate resources by which the situations indicated by 
 these^laws can be satisfactorily controlled, and so to train the 
 individual that these resources will be utilized when needed. 
 Intelligence finds its primary function in readjustment, and 
 in this power, therefore, capacity for education finds its highest 
 expression.
 
 Readjiistment, its Conditions and Methods 41 
 
 Surveying briefly the results of the preceding analysis, we Summary 
 note the one striking fact of the increase in environmental 
 variability as we go from lower to higher environments. A 
 regional environment necessarily takes on the character of 
 surroundings consisting of the symbols of sense. These 
 symbols are indefinite in number, and constantly change their 
 significance as circumstances change. The social environment 
 is variable with what to the onlooker seems like the indeter- 
 minateness of the will. The artificial environment is of the 
 essence of provision against the chance and change of the future. 
 The evolution of functions to meet these higher conditions 
 must, therefore, be a process of perfecting the methods of read- 
 justment. The evolution of life may from this point of view 
 not improperly be called the development of capacity for edu- 
 cation. Thus education is not only a factor in evolution, but 
 an important aspect of its goal. 
 
 SECTION 5. The evolution of wants 
 
 We have seen that readjustment means the development Theevoiu- 
 of new powers in the organism in order that it may more satis- 
 
 factorily gratify in the given environment the wants of its stimulus 
 nature. The stimulus to growth is dissatisfaction, and this j us tment 
 may result either from environmental variations, which render 
 the old methods incapable of attaining to old satisfactions, or 
 from the evolution of new wants within the organism itself, 
 which make it discontented with results hitherto regarded as 
 satisfactory. We have spoken of environmental variability 
 as the primary stimulus to growth. The evolution of wants 
 may for the present be regarded as a secondary stimulus to 
 such activity. 
 
 It will be noted that, since wants spring from within, their La . w f ll . lc 
 
 inertia of 
 
 evolution is a process of growth. Thus growth itself produces growth
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Illustrations 
 of this law 
 in (i) in- 
 crease in 
 size, 
 
 (2) changes 
 in compo- 
 sition or 
 structure, 
 
 wants which stimulate further growth. This principle may be 
 called the inertia of growth. We have stated it more abstractly 
 as follows : the process of growth brings about changes in the 
 organism that themselves tend to throw it out of gear with its life 
 conditions. 1 
 
 The inertia of growth finds one of its simplest illustrations in 
 the supposed cause of the fission of the amoeba. Spencer 2 
 called attention to the fact that, since the amoeba absorbs 
 food through the surface of its body, the amount that it can 
 take in will depend upon the extent of that surface. On the 
 other hand, the amount that it needs depends on its volume. 
 Since by a simple geometrical principle volume in similar 
 solids increases faster than surface, the growing amceba, like 
 population under the law of Malthus, is continually tending to 
 outgrow its powers of nourishing itself. Thus it inevitably 
 comes to a crisis in which the only salvation is a revolutionary 
 restoration of an earlier status, which is accomplished by sim- 
 ply splitting itself in two. 
 
 It is probable that the amoeba here illustrates a compara- 
 tively universal physiological principle. The power of sus- 
 tentation tends to increase its burdens until it can support 
 them only with extreme difficulty, if at all. There are other 
 physiological illustrations of the inertia of growth. Not only 
 in the general increase in size on the part of the individual or 
 the species, but also in the chemical and structural changes 
 that go on in various parts of the body, do we see the tendency 
 for growth to continue beyond the point of perfect adjust- 
 ment. For example, the change of cartilage into bony tissue, 
 by which the skeleton of the child gradually becomes capable 
 of supporting and protecting the body of the man, depends 
 on a chemical change in the constituents of the bones which 
 continues until in old age it renders them brittle and fragile. 
 1 See p. 31 . a Principles of Biology.
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 43 
 
 Professor Minot says of this transformation that it offers a 
 "clear illustration of a principle of change in the very old which 
 is, I take it, perhaps sufficiently well expressed by saying that 
 the change which is natural in the younger stage is in the old 
 carried to excess." 1 The same writer maintains 2 that the 
 processes of growth involve the differentiation or the develop- 
 ment of special characteristics in the cytoplasm of the cells, 
 a change that brings about a loss of the power of multiplica- 
 tion that originally belonged to the cells, and without which the 
 losses by decay and death in the differentiated cells cannot be 
 made good. The inevitable result is senescence and death. 
 Thus growth toward adjustment through differentiation con- 
 tinues until it brings about a need for readjustment through 
 rejuvenation, and a consequent initiation of a new cycle of 
 differentiation in a new generation. 
 
 From the point of view of education, a most important (3) special 
 example of the inertia of growth is found in the physiology of 
 habit. Habit depends on the establishment of special path- forming, 
 ways of discharge through the nervous system. These path- 
 ways are formed through the approximation or synapsis of the 
 delicate nerve endings in the central nervous system. A nerv- 
 ous discharge which was at first sent diffusely through many 
 channels is in consequence conducted in the main through but 
 one. The synapsis involves a special supply of nutrition, and 
 this again involves the neglect, possibly the atrophy, of parts 
 not selected and exercised. Thus growth of one part is fostered 
 at the expense of others. To that which hath is given. But 
 this specialized growth interferes with the power of readjust- 
 ment in case a shifting of conditions should make the resusci- 
 tation and functioning of the atrophied parts desirable. More ! 
 it may continue leading certain parts more and more to mo- 
 nopolize the nutriment until other parts, the cooperation of 
 
 1 Age, Growth, and Death, p. 22. 2 Compare Ibid., pp. 249-250.
 
 44 Principles of Education 
 
 which is essential to sustain the life processes, are no longer 
 able to support the burden of their function, thus bringing 
 about extreme instability, if not positive maladjustment, for 
 the organism as a whole. 
 
 (4) psychic Perhaps for our purposes the most important illustration 
 shown 10 in' ^ tne mert i a f growth is found in functional, especially 
 the evolu- psychic evolution. It is a commonplace that the process of 
 wants' of acquiring the ability to satisfy certain desires usually involves 
 sense, ^ ne cre ation of a number of new ones. To accumulate simply 
 means to breed the desire to accumulate. The increase in 
 wages of the workers brings with it an increase in their stand- 
 ards of living, and they remain as discontented as before. 
 Education often fosters discontent, for it increases desires 
 faster than it supplies the means of their satisfaction. These 
 platitudes of experience find their universal expression in the 
 evolution of consciousness. With the development of power 
 of movement, as we have seen, the function of sentiency is 
 born, or, at any rate, expands from the primitive irritability 
 of unicellular forms of life into the variety and richness that 
 is correlated with the appearance of the various specialized 
 organs of sense. The symbols that appeal to sense become 
 invested with all the interest that in simpler organisms is 
 reserved for conditions immediately affecting the vital pro- 
 cesses. Thus the animal becomes absorbed, not only in the 
 destruction or the building up of its body, but in whatever 
 threatens the one or promises the other. Its wants have 
 expanded to include an environment symbolic only of good. 
 It fears and hopes. Its safety is secured at the cost of becom- 
 ing entangled in the world of meanings. Among these mean- 
 ings are pleasure and pain themselves, which, as premonitory 
 of welfare and danger, come into greater demand the more 
 extensive the resources of the organism for warding off injury 
 or attaining good may be. Thus life evolves from conditions
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 45 
 
 in which the struggle with a hostile environment is simple and 
 passive and slow to forms in which it is alert to a multitude 
 of significances and intensely disturbed by them in order that 
 reaction may be speedy and effective. It is a well-known 
 fact of experimental psychology that reaction time is in a 
 measure a function of the painful or intense character of the 
 stimulus or of the clearness with which this is discriminated. 1 
 Thus with the evolution of swifter activity we find that wants 
 are not only multiplied, but become more sharp. They ex- 
 pand from unconscious vital impulses into definite pains and 
 anxieties. 
 
 The development of cooperation and society, of prevision (ft) wants of 
 and the artificial environment, involves the same increase in 
 the complexity and, doubtless, in the intensity of our wants. 
 The social individual must include in his desires the desires 
 of society. Sympathy, mutual help, and morality involve a 
 keen appreciation of the happiness and the misery, the welfare 
 and the rights of others, and of our duties toward them. To 
 be a social individual means to be incapable of contentment 
 in the midst of the discontent of our fellows, no matter how 
 satisfactory our adjustments are from the physical point of 
 view. Christianity has conceived its leader as one whose inter- 
 ests were as wide as humanity, and hence a "Man of Sorrows." 
 So, too, he who labors now to create conditions to be utilized W wants of 
 in the future becomes by his foresight interested in a universe 
 that for him who is absorbed only in satisfying his immediate 
 needs cannot be said to exist. One who " looks before and 
 after" is one whose "sincerest laughter" is "fraught with 
 pain." The want that creates care comes with the intelli- 
 gence that strives to fathom and forestall the future. 
 
 In a sense the higher environments with their complexity 
 
 1 Compare fienmon, The Time of Perception as a Measure of Differences in 
 Sensation.
 
 46 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Higher en- 
 vironments 
 the product 
 of higher 
 functions 
 
 Unforeseen 
 results of 
 functional 
 evolution 
 
 and variability and consequent demand upon our powers of 
 readjustment are merely the product of the higher functions, 
 the evolution of which is the result of the inner growth of the 
 organism. The sense world cannot exist to the creature 
 unendowed with senses,, nor society to an organism without 
 the instincts and the intelligence that enable the apprehension 
 of other minds. The world of the future is a living reality 
 only to those capable of prophecy. Nature to the amoeba 
 is indeed a poor affair, but the man does not find himself in an 
 environment that differs from that of the amoeba, except 
 through his own increased power of apprehending it. Thus 
 the functions and the corresponding wants summon the higher 
 environments into reality, at least the only reality that is of 
 any importance to the organism. 
 
 But when the function has once called forth the new world, 
 it finds this creation infused with a spirit of independence, 
 intractable, variable with its own caprice, a veritable Franken- 
 stein. Thus, although with the idealist or the pragmatist 
 we may regard the world of reality as an expression of mind or 
 will, it is evident that when we come to cope with this universe, 
 we are compelled with the realist to will or think it to be what 
 it is. It is and remains a problem, a challenge to readjustment, 
 even though it sprang into being because of the rise of powers, 
 the immediate purpose of which was to effect adjustment to 
 lower conditions of life. 
 
 Environmental variability may be characterized as the un- 
 expectedness of the emergencies of life. The inertia of growth 
 is merely a name for the same thing when we look at it from 
 the point of view of the outcome of any effort toward adjust- 
 ment. The conditions of growth are vaster than the imme- 
 diate purpose of the grower. Hence growth does not cease 
 when its immediate results are gained. The environment is 
 not summed up in the definite situation which can be met by
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 47 
 
 definite attainable methods. Hence it is exhaustless in its 
 demands upon readjustment. But although we may agree 
 that in the last analysis the inner and outer stimuli to growth 
 are interdependent and in effect the same, it is not important 
 to insist upon their identity in discussing the methods of read- 
 justment or the concrete problems of education. Apparently 
 the change in wants and functions and the change in external 
 conditions of life are distinct and independent, and we shall 
 not gain in treating our subject by thinking of them otherwise. . 
 
 In conclusion, we may say that the occasion for growth or Summary 
 readjustment may be, not merely variation in the environ- 
 ment, but also changes incidental to the process of readjust- 
 ment itself. These changes we sum up under the title, inertia 
 of growth. They include the increased burdens entailed by 
 general growth, the dangers incidental to prolonged chemical 
 changes, at first useful or indispensable, the loss of power in- 
 volved in differentiation of function and the formation of habit 
 with consequent inability to repair loss, to readjust, to preserve 
 the balance in vital activities, and finally the development 
 with the evolution of new functions of new wants which involve 
 intenser activities of readjustment than were necessary before. 
 Thus not only from the point of view of the environment, 
 but also from that of the inner activity of the organism itself, 
 readjustment makes necessary more readjustment, evolution 
 creates a tendency to faster evolution, education intensifies 
 the need to learn. As the need for readjustment increases its 
 methods change, and we shall now discuss forms that they 
 assume. 
 
 SECTION 6. Types of readjustment 
 
 We have defined education as a process of readjustment, TWO methods 
 and have endeavored to set forth the conditions of such a ? f / ead " 
 
 justment 
 
 process. But although education is readjustment, it is not of
 
 48 Principles of Education 
 
 necessity true that all readjustment may be called a process of 
 education. Strictly speaking, education is only one of the 
 forms which readjustment takes. In the course of evolution 
 another form has appeared to strengthen the resources that 
 have enabled this function to cope with the more and more 
 difficult problems that it has been compelled to face. 
 
 (1) Educa- In the first place, it is evident that education is always a 
 tinuoiTin- P rocess f individual development. We might speak of racial 
 dividual readjustment, which in contrast to this goes on by the process 
 ment" 5 of natural selection, operating upon variations which do not 
 
 arise because of education, but are present at the beginning 
 of the life of the individual. Again, education is a more or less 
 
 (2) Repro- continuous process of growth in the individual. Occasionally, 
 discontinu- however, we note that readjustment is accomplished by a 
 ous racial discontinuous process. Life persists, but there is a sudden 
 ment and revolutionary change in its form. This change is called 
 
 reproduction, which is frequently characterized as discontinu- 
 ous growth. Part of the body of the parent is, as it were, set 
 aside, and begins life on its own account as a distinct individual. 
 This change is frequently accompanied by the death of the 
 parent. In any event, the life cycle of the offspring normally 
 continues for a considerable period after its progenitor has 
 perished. 
 
 Now as continuous growth is normally a process of read- 
 justment, we might assume the same of discontinuous growth. 
 Thus Geddes and Thompson declare : 
 
 "Le Conte and others have pointed out that reproduction 
 really begins with the almost mechanical breakage of a unit 
 mass of living matter, which has grown too large for successful 
 coordination. Reproduction, in fact, begins with rupture. 
 Large cells, beginning to die, save their lives by sacrifice. 
 Reproduction is literally a life-saving against the approach 
 of death. Whether it be the almost random rupture of one
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 49 
 
 of the more primitive forms such as Schizogenes, or the over- 
 flow and separation of multiple buds as in Arcella, or the dis- 
 solution of a few of the infusorians, an organism, which is 
 becoming exhausted, saves itself, and multiplies in reproduc- 
 ing. In some cases, reproduction is effected by outflowing 
 processes of the cell which have gone a little too far. Now, 
 such primitive forms of multiplication, gradually becoming 
 more definite, express a predominant katabolism in the unit 
 mass. Reproduction in its simplest forms is associated with 
 a katabolic crisis." 1 
 
 According to this view, then, reproduction occurs at a crisis Reproduc- 
 when readjustment is necessary, and through it an effective at^a 
 adaptation is secured. Let us examine a little more carefully bolic 
 both the character of the crisis which reproduction alone can 
 meet, and the methods by which it brings about readjustment. 
 
 Reproduction is "associated with a katabolic crisis." Pre- 
 dominance of destructive over constructive processes, when 
 this becomes threatening or critical, forces this revolutionary 
 change in form. However, ordinary continuous growth is, 
 as we have seen, occasioned by some lack of adjustment between 
 the wants and the supply. Katabolism is going on. The 
 loss must be replaced, and with this replacement must come, 
 if the organism be growing, some movement in the direction of 
 greater efficiency in supplying the needs that waste or any 
 other indispensable activity of life creates. But it is the crisis 
 in katabolism that compels reproduction. Now a crisis must 
 be a situation which the normal processes of continuous re- 
 adjustment either aggravate or, at any rate, fail to help. 
 Such a crisis we find may be brought about by revolutionary Causes of 
 changes in the environment or by the inertia of growth or by 
 both. In general, however, it is evident that the inertia of 
 growth is usually in some way concerned in the difficulty, 
 
 1 The Evolution of Sex, Ch. XVII, 2.
 
 50 Principles of Education 
 
 for it is in the inability of continuous growth to reverse itself, 
 to change radically its direction or character, or even to cease 
 to go on as it has, that makes impossible the re adaptation 
 when the extraordinary environmental change takes place. 
 
 The most important revolution in conditions of life that is 
 concerned in forcing the katabolic crisis is seasonal change. 
 Comparatively few organisms survive such change except 
 through reproduction. On the other hand, increase in size, 
 changes in the balance of parts or their chemical composition, 
 or differentiation of structure, all are most fruitful sources of 
 the critical situation. These forms of growth are all fostered 
 by favorable environments, seasons of abundance. Thus 
 we have the curious paradox that the katabolic crisis may 
 result from very favorable conditions, through the promotion 
 by them of processes of growth, the inertia of which carries 
 the organism beyond the condition of perfect adjustment, or 
 from very unfavorable conditions, where the needs of normal 
 metabolism cannot be supplied. Indeed, both conditions 
 conspire, for the more extensive the growth during the favor- 
 able season, the more unstable the condition of the organism 
 to effect the adjustments necessary when the season of hard- 
 ship appears. 
 
 Results of a When we turn to the character of the readjustments effected 
 
 crilf 01 kv reproduction, we find great variety. The katabolic crisis 
 
 may bring about four alternative results: (i) the death of the 
 
 organism ; (2) the resolution of the total body of the parent 
 
 into a number of smaller individuals ; (3) the disruption of the 
 
 body of the parent into parts, one of which dies, while the other 
 
 continues to live as one or a number of individuals; (4) a 
 
 Three advan- similar disruption with a continuation of life on the part of 
 
 results 3 of tne P arent body for a certain period. In the three latter cases 
 
 reproduc- reproduction has effected readjustment, either (i) by putting 
 
 the surviving parts of the parent body in a condition capable
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 51 
 
 of meeting changed life conditions, or (2) by relieving the 
 tension due to the inertia of growth, or (3) by giving rise to 
 offspring in which the direction of growth can be changed into 
 ways impossible for the parent form to enter. Indeed, all 
 these advantages may accrue from a revolutionary change in 
 form. 
 
 The first advantage may be gained from a mere reduction in The first ad- 
 size. The smaller organism may when food supply has become 
 less abundant be able to sustain itself better than the larger 
 one. This gain is illustrated in the fission of the amoeba, and 
 is one of the most general advantages of reproduction. Again 
 the reproduced form may be protected by a cyst or other 
 covering, within which the germ may lie with vital activities 
 temporarily suspended, but at the same time shielded against 
 hostile cold, or scarcity of food or water, or even the attacks of 
 enemies. The encysted protozoon, the seed, the egg, the 
 cocoon, the placental protection of the mammal are all illus- 
 trations of this form of adaptation ; except that in the two 
 latter cases we have abundant food supply and a continuance 
 of vital activities. 
 
 The smaller size, the protected form, and the greater number 
 of the offspring all contribute to effective dispersal of the 
 species. Such dispersal may enable some of the new genera- 
 tion to find a more advantageous habitat than that of the 
 parent. This is particularly important in the case of plants or 
 sessile animals, for the detachment of the reproduced form 
 enables it to be scattered broadcast. Thus the plant accom- 
 plishes through its seed what the animal does through move- 
 ment. It readjusts itself through offspring that are not only 
 protected so that life is preserved indefinitely even though 
 conditions be severe, but are also in a form to be blown about 
 by the winds or carried by water currents or by birds or other 
 animals until some few encounter both the favoring season
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (d) other 
 adaptations 
 
 The second 
 advantage 
 of repro- 
 duction as 
 relief of 
 organic 
 tension 
 
 and other conditions more advantageous than those which 
 surround the abandoned parent. 
 
 Dispersal may be favored by adaptations peculiar to the 
 reproduced form. Thus the seed may be equipped with wing- 
 like or downy structures to facilitate flight, or it may be sur- 
 rounded with food, the main use of which is not to provide it 
 with a store of nutriment when it starts life anew, but rather 
 to attract the birds or other animals which devour the food but 
 disperse the seed itself. The last stage in the metamorphosis 
 of insects is usually a winged form, and in many cases this form 
 is very short-lived, existing merely to insure the dispersal of 
 the eggs that it lays. 
 
 Other adaptations gained by the reproduced form may fit 
 it especially for those life conditions in which its vital activities 
 are likely to be resumed. Thus the larval form of insects is 
 invariably especially adapted to nourish itself on the food 
 that is practically certain to surround it when it hatches out 
 from the egg. This adjustment of the newly born to its food 
 conditions is practically universal. Moreover, the protective 
 coloring, the means of defense, and the instincts of the new 
 generation fit it as a rule especially to its environments. 
 
 The second advantage gained through reproduction is that 
 of relieving the tension due to the inertia of growth. As such 
 tension is an universal characteristic of the katabolic crisis, 
 its relief is an invariable result of any form of reproduction. 
 Especially where the parent survives the birth of its young 
 do we find this advantage representing the gain, in fact the 
 sole gain, of the parent form. But whatever be the immediate 
 occasion of the katabolic crisis, and whatever the gain through 
 reproduction to the parent form, it is evident that the repro- 
 duced forms almost always possess special readjustments 
 that give them at least ultimately a peculiar advantage over 
 the parent in the struggle for existence.
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Method's 53 
 
 For the purpose of the theory of education the most impor- importance 
 tant of these advantages is the third of those recounted above advantage d 
 as resulting from reproduction. In the offspring the direction of of repro- 
 growth may be changed into ways impossible for the parent form r ejuvena- 
 to enter. This change in the direction of growth is accom- t* 00 
 plished for the most part through rejuvenation. The part of 
 the parent body that is segregated is as yet undifferentiated. 
 It is replete with possibilities of growth that have not been 
 utilized. In it, therefore, the direction of growth can be 
 changed to meet whatever variations in emergencies the for- 
 tunes of life have brought. 
 
 It is probable that all reproduced forms are in a measure Reproduc- 
 rejuvenated. Yet it is evident that in many the advantage 
 of rejuvenation is slight as compared with the specific adapta- degree of 
 tion that is gained. The offspring are protected better, or tbn V& 
 are in a condition favorable for dispersal, or possess some spe- 
 cial characteristic in reference to methods of nutrition, etc., 
 that are not capacities to readjust but rather perfect adjust- 
 ments. In respect to these advantages the offspring are as 
 mature as the parent. They are not young. They are simply 
 new. They are not rejuvenated but changed. 
 
 On the other hand, there are many forms in which rejuvena- 
 tion is the great advantage of reproduction to the offspring. 
 While protective adaptations may exist for them, the need for 
 protection arises largely from the fact of youth, the weakness 
 of immaturity, and not especially as an adjustment to seasonal 
 or other environmental change. They are born 'as they are, 
 that the direction of growth may be changed into ways impos- 
 sible for the parent form to enter. They begin again, and 
 along different lines endeavor to meet the changes that cannot 
 be successfully encountered along ancestral pathways. menu to 
 
 It is plain that rejuvenation constitutes an essentially dif- determi- 
 ferent method of readjustment through reproduction than do changes
 
 54 Principles of Education 
 
 the others we have considered. Being a different method, it 
 is capable of coping with a different sort of a situation. Such 
 readjustments as exist perfected in the offspring at birth can 
 evidently be adaptations to such changes only as occur with 
 regularity, and can therefore be, as it were, anticipated by the 
 organism. Periodic changes, whether these are a result of 
 seasonal rhythms or of those physiological rhythms that seem 
 bound up with the inertia of growth, are the only sorts of 
 variation that can be met by a form of readjustment that is 
 specifically determined beforehand. Natural selection would 
 favor and fix a type the nature of which is to reproduce such 
 forms as are adapted to the changes that occur with regularity. 
 Thus determinate forms of discontinuous growth become in- 
 corporated in the heredity of the species in order to adapt it 
 to determinate periodicities. 
 
 Rejuvenation On the other hand, the specific value of rejuvenation lies in 
 ena l es the organism to meet indeterminate, unperiodic 
 
 to indeter- changes. It restores a capacity for growth lost by the parent 
 changes organism as a result of differentiation. The result is that the 
 reproduced form may seek its adaptation in ways quite dif- 
 ferent from those developed in the parent, and in consequence 
 it is hi a better position to encounter situations that never be- 
 fore have confronted the species. Whenever the lines of 
 growth that have become defined in the parent are inadequate 
 to new emergencies, reproduction is necessary. Whenever 
 these emergencies are of such a nature that they cannot be 
 anticipated by the heredity of the species, the reproduced form 
 can gam no advantage from any adaptation save a rejuvena- 
 tion that is in some way associated with a restoration of its 
 capacity for growth. 
 
 We are here not using the term, rejuvenation, as meaning 
 the restoration of any earlier form of the organism, but rather 
 as the restoration of an earlier capacity to become adjusted.
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 55 
 
 That the stage represented by a reproduced form occurred 
 earlier in the life of the parent does not mean that it is entitled 
 to be called youthful. Reproductive adaptations to periodic 
 changes involve revivals of earlier stages in the life of the 
 individual, but in so far as these adjustments are adequate to 
 the preservation of the life of the new-born, they are not indi- 
 cations of youth but of maturity. The earliest stage hi the life 
 history of an individual is, doubtless, as a rule the least dif- 
 ferentiated and the most juvenile, yet there are many life 
 histories in which this fact is not so much in evidence as are the 
 specific adaptations by which the reproduced forms are able to 
 maintain themselves independently of parental help. Hence 
 the new-born are not of necessity youthful, and in many such 
 forms rejuvenation is not apparent. It develops and becomes 
 a striking characteristic of the early stage in the life of such 
 organisms as dwell in the midst of variations so indeterminate 
 that they cannot be anticipated in the hereditary tendencies 
 of the species. 
 
 If we reflect on what has been said about the variability of Rejuvena- 
 the emergencies that higher orders of life are compelled to face, ^ e ?^ 
 it is evident that with them adaptation through rejuvenation portant to 
 would become more and more necessary. The rhythmic species 
 changes of the seasons become less and less occasions for 
 katabolic crises in the life of the individual. Migration, 
 society, artificial conditions of life, all nullify their revolution- 
 ary effect. But these higher environments involve, as we have 
 seen, not less but more variability. Moreover, this variability 
 is increasingly indeterminate. Man can, indeed, say of his 
 life that it is far more secure than is that of lower orders, but 
 not that it is one in which he can predict the exact character 
 of the emergencies of the morrow with anything like the same 
 certainty. He wants so many more things, and his ways of 
 getting them are so numerous and change with such rapidity
 
 56 Principles of Education 
 
 from generation to generation. It follows that with him, and, 
 indeed, with all the higher orders, rejuvenation is the leading 
 if not the sole advantage that is enjoyed by the reproduced 
 form. 
 
 Variation as It may be objected that with the higher orders as well as 
 ^J u t S o~ the lower ones a very important gain from reproduction is 
 indetenni- found in the variations that new generations display. Among 
 these may be found characters that render their possessors 
 far better adapted to the existing conditions of life than were 
 their ancestors. Thus reproduction can adjust to indetermi- 
 Especiai nate change in other ways than by rejuvenation. On the other 
 variation hand, it is evident that with the higher orders the variations 
 toward ca- that natural selection favors are more and more those asso- 
 leam dated with capacity to learn, intelligence. Now it is for the 
 
 sake of this power especially that rejuvenation exists. It is 
 hard to teach an old dog new tricks or for the skilled workman 
 to survive changes in machinery, or for the newly rich to assume 
 the habits of those who are "to the manner born," or for the 
 old fogy to remain efficient when life takes on new issues and 
 demands new methods. Wherever readjustment that conflicts 
 with existing habits of thought and action is necessary, there 
 some sort of rejuvenation is the only resource, and that com- 
 prehensive rejuvenation that comes with the birth of a new 
 generation becomes most helpful. 
 
 Adaptation A comparison of life cycles of organisms for which reproduc- 
 minate tion yields definite adaptations with those of species where it 
 SIT life is lar & el y rejuvenation yields a striking contrast. A life cycle 
 cycles of is a succession of stages in the life history of an individual 
 or s P eci es, at the end of which the initial stage recurs and the 
 cycle is again repeated. The resumption of the initial stage of 
 the cycle is, of course, always by reproduction. But with 
 species where reproduction finds its especial value in effecting 
 determinate adjustment we may find an elaborate life cycle,
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 57 
 
 each transition in which is brought about by discontinuous 
 growth. The two typical forms of such life cycle are meta- 
 morphosis and alternation of generations. Wherever one in- 
 dividual assumes in succession a number of forms apparently 
 utterly distinct in appearance and mode of life, we have meta- 
 morphosis. Whenever at each transition the parent form gives 
 rise to a number of individuals of the new form, we have alter- 
 nation of generations. 
 
 Alternation of generations occurs in nearly all species of (a) Aitema- 
 plants and in very many species of animals. In the ordinary erationfaji 
 jellyfish we have as a first stage a sessile form, that grows under exam P le 
 favorable conditions, finally giving off in succession a number 
 of buds that become free-swimming jellyfish. These even- 
 tually produce offspring in the form of fertilized ova, that 
 become attached to some object, and the series is again repeated. 
 Such an alternation between free-swimming and sessile forms 
 undoubtedly provides the best adjustment for the species. 
 The sessile form is adapted to take advantage of abundant 
 food supply in a certain locality. It grows until its powers of 
 sustentation are taxed. Thereupon it buds, and the free- 
 swimming forms thus given off can seek other environments 
 removed from the competition of the parents, in this manner 
 providing a wider range of food supply for themselves and 
 insuring the dispersal of the species. 
 
 In the remarkable case of the liver fluke there may be dis- The liver 
 tinguished seven stages in development through the' life cycle, niJtrating 
 as follows : (i) Eggs in the alimentary canal of the sheep. alternation 
 These are expelled from the body. (2) From them are hatched t ions 
 minute ciliated organisms that may pass into the bodies of 
 water snails as parasites. (3) Here they become encysted. 
 
 (4) From each cyst a number of minute organisms called rediae 
 appear. These feed on the digestive organs of the snail. 
 
 (5) They reproduce, and among the offspring are organisms
 
 58 Principles of Education 
 
 that pass out of the body of the water snail and swim about. 
 (6) They leave the water and become encysted on .blades of 
 grass. These are eaten by sheep. (7) Being hatched out, 
 they become parasites upon the liver of that animal. Here 
 we have a most elaborate series of changes, the sum of which 
 makes possible a very successful life history on the part of the 
 species in question. We have primarily a set of adaptations 
 that enable the substitution of one host for another, so that the 
 species may survive the death of either, an event quite likely 
 to happen because of the havoc wrought by the parasite itself. 
 We have all the apparatus of encysted forms and of ciliate 
 free-swimming forms that enables preservation in unfavorable 
 conditions and dispersal. In short, we have well represented 
 those devices by which successive, inevitable, and periodic 
 crises in the life processes of an organism can be met. 
 (6) Metamor- The more familiar life cycle of metamorphosis illustrates the 
 same sort f readjustment. The egg, the larva, the cocoon, 
 
 of discon- an d the butterfly are as different as different species, yet they 
 growth are all in a sense the same individual, which, as it were, repro- 
 duces itself, or suffers discontinuous growth at each crisis in 
 its history. Indeed we might speak of the transformation as 
 an alternation of generations where the reproduction is asexual 
 and the offspring a single individual. Each stage in the meta- 
 morphosis illustrates a readjustment to conditions that can 
 definitely be anticipated by heredity. The eggs are protected 
 against unfavorable conditions, but as a rule are deposited 
 where with the recurrence of spring the food supply will be 
 good. The larva represents a stage well fitted for taking 
 advantage of abundant food, favorable weather, etc. When, 
 replete with nourishment, it finds the food supply growing 
 scanty, it assumes the protected form of the cocoon, from 
 thence to emerge as the imago, winged for flight to favorable 
 places for the deposition of its eggs.
 
 Readjiistment, its Conditions and Methods 59 
 
 When we contrast with these transformations the life cycle 
 of an organism where reproduction finds its principal function 
 in rejuvenation, we note a marked difference. The character- 
 istic stages in the life history of such a creature are infancy, 
 maturity, and old age. Here each stage is not an adapted 
 stage, for infancy is characterized by lack of differentiation or 
 adaptation, by immaturity. Again, each stage is not a result 
 of discontinuous growth, for maturity is the product of the 
 continuous development that goes on during the period of 
 infancy. In metamorphosis the specific experience of the 
 individual in an earlier stage does not determine its character- 
 istic structure or peculiarities when transformed. As in all 
 cases of discontinuous growth, the nature of the reproduced 
 form is determined by heredity, and the experience of the parent 
 form counts only through the general effect of good or bad 
 nourishment, presence or absence of diseased tissue, etc. 
 Continuity from one stage to another in the development of 
 the individual is, of course, an indispensable condition for 
 readjustment to indeterminate changes through rejuvenation. 
 
 To sum up the discussion of this section, we may say that 
 although all education is readjustment, it is not true that all 
 readjustment is, properly speaking, education, for frequently 
 this result is accomplished by a process of discontinuous growth. 
 Discontinuous growth is, unless we except the case of meta- 
 morphosis, identical with reproduction. It occurs at a kata- 
 bolic crisis, or a period in the life of the organism when the 
 destructive processes outrun those of building up, and the 
 balance cannot be restored by continuous growth along pre- 
 vailing lines. A katabolic crisis usually springs from the co- 
 operation of revolutionary changes in the environment with 
 the maladjustment due to the inertia of growth, although either 
 one or the other cause may be the dominant factor. Repro- 
 duction may result in the relief of the tension in the parent 
 
 The life cycle 
 of continu- 
 ous growth 
 as illustrat- 
 ing adapta- 
 tion to in- 
 determi- 
 nate 
 changes 
 
 Summary
 
 60 Principles of Education 
 
 organism, thus insuring for it at least a temporary lease on 
 life. The main advantage appears, however, in the reproduced 
 forms, which are either readjusted forms or well suited to 
 become so by continuous growth. 
 
 The specific readjustments effected by reproduction are seen 
 in means of protection or of dispersal, in adaptation to food 
 supply, etc. Such adjustments may occur in a periodic series, 
 thus giving rise to a life cycle of discontinuous growth, such 
 as is found in alternation of generations or metamorphosis. 
 These cycles adapt to determinate periodic changes in environ- 
 mental conditions or inner growth, and hence to crises that 
 can be met by hereditary provision for specific forms of dis- 
 continuous growth. On the other hand, where the variations 
 in the conditions of life occur in nonperiodic indeterminate 
 ways, there the only advantage that can be gained by a repro- 
 duced form is that of rejuvenation, or the restoration of an 
 earlier, less differentiated state in the life of the organism. 
 From such a state a readjustment by continuous growth 
 impossible for the parent form can be effected in the young. 
 
 The higher organisms live in environments relatively free 
 from the revolutionary influence of specific periodic changes. 
 Hence specific readjustment by reproduction, except by relief 
 of tension in the parent organism, is not characteristic of them 
 to any marked degree. So, too, they do not show much evi- 
 dence of the life cycle of discontinuous growth. On the other 
 hand, their environments are exceedingly and indeterminately 
 variable. Hence it is important that they should possess 
 much power of continuous growth, and at the same time show 
 in their reproduced forms a corresponding degree of rejuvena- 
 tion. Only by the former power can the organism secure 
 adaptation to its conditions. Only by the latter provision 
 can the species effect readjustment to conditions that cannot 
 be met along the prevailing lines of continuous growth. The
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 61 
 
 higher organisms, therefore, possess a life cycle characterized 
 by continuous growth, the first stage of which is that of infancy. 
 In fine, having said at the conclusion of the two preceding sec- 
 tions that the higher environments are more' variable and hence 
 require of their inhabitants greater power of readjustment, 
 we may now add that, since these variations grow increasingly 
 indeterminate, the method of readjustment comes more and 
 more to be through rejuvenation and education. 
 
 SECTION 7. The theory of infancy 
 
 The theory of infancy has come to be recognized as an in- 
 tegral part of the theory of education. It is probably just to 
 say that this is due to the discussions of John Fiske and Presi- 
 dent Butler. The former says: 
 
 "But this steady increase in intelligence, as our forefathers Fiske on the 
 began to become human, carried with it a steady prolongation 
 of infancy. As mental life became more complex and various, 
 as the things to be learned kept ever multiplying, less and less 
 could be done before birth, more and more must be left to be 
 done in the earlier years of life. So instead of being born with 
 a few capacities thoroughly organized, man came at last to 
 be born with the germs of many complex capacities which 
 were reserved to be unfolded and enhanced or checked and 
 stifled by the incidents of personal experience in each indi- 
 vidual. In this simple yet wonderful way there has been 
 provided for man a long period during which his mind is 
 plastic and malleable, and the length of the period has in- 
 creased with civilization until it now covers nearly one third 
 of our lives. It is not that our inherited tendencies and 
 adaptations are not still the main thing. It is only that we 
 have at last acquired great power to modify them by training 
 so that progress may go on with ever increasing sureness and 
 rapidity." 1 
 
 1 Excursions of an Evolutionist, pp. 315-316.
 
 62 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Fiske im- 
 plies that 
 infancy is a 
 positive 
 basis for 
 learning 
 
 Real value 
 of infancy 
 negative, 
 consisting 
 in remov- 
 ing ob- 
 structive 
 adjust- 
 ments 
 
 A careful reading of this extract will reveal some confusion 
 in the mind of its author as to the specific function of infancy. 
 It is assumed that its value lies in enabling us to learn many 
 things, to become adapted to a very complex environment. 
 Since heredity cannot give us such a complex adjustment in a 
 perfected form, Mr. Fiske thinks, we are given hereditary 
 tendencies to be "unfolded and enhanced or checked and 
 stifled." Now, as a matter of fact, there is no reason to suppose 
 that heredity cannot transmit in the greatest profusion special 
 adjustments. The only bar to such provision lies in the fact 
 that they might not be the right ones. Mr. Fiske vaguely 
 recognizes this in suggesting that the hereditary tendencies 
 are to be modified "by the incidents of personal experience in 
 each individual," yet in giving the reason for this arrangement 
 he emphasizes the number and variety of things to be learned, 
 and not their variability from age to age. If it were not for 
 this indeterminate variability, there is no reason why the organ- 
 ism should not be perfectly adapted at birth, and, indeed, we 
 have seen that in such respects as can be specifically antici- 
 pated the reproduced form is usually better adjusted than the 
 parent one. 
 
 Since infancy means immaturity, its primary value lies not 
 in what it enables us to do, but in what it permits us to avoid. 
 Immaturity does not mean power to learn many things, nor 
 even anything. It means merely the absence of that which 
 will prevent learning many things. Infancy does not signify in- 
 telligence, for idiots can betray an immaturity from which they 
 never escape. It is true that without the need of readjustment 
 that helpless infancy especially involves, intelligence would 
 have no utility and hence no opportunity by which it may 
 be evoked into being. On the other hand, there is no contra- 
 diction between intelligence and a fairly mature adjustment. 
 It is only when readjustment cannot be effected without a
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 63 
 
 revolutionary change in methods of thinking or acting that 
 rejuvenation becomes valuable. In so far as readjustment can 
 proceed continuously along the lines of earlier mental and motor 
 growth the recurrence of the earlier, undifferentiated state is a 
 positive loss. It is because intelligence and habit get into 
 ways from which there is no exit when changed conditions 
 demand further progress that infancy becomes desirable. 
 It is possible to conceive of methods of thinking and doing 
 so soundly selected, and of intelligence so comprehensively 
 equipped, that there could be for them no radical change in 
 emergencies. To a species thus endowed rejuvenation would 
 have lost its utility. 
 
 If, then, infancy is a merely negative condition of power to Positive basis 
 learn, what are the positive grounds of this capacity? It is 
 
 evident that they are not to be found in lack of differentiation, in definite, 
 
 .,.., 1*1 / though un- 
 
 for this involves nothing beyond the negativity of immaturity, developed 
 
 That vague term, plasticity, must imply some positive qualities, 
 
 as well as that of being at present amorphous. Some light will tions 
 
 be thrown upon the nature of these capacities for growth by 
 
 considering the physiological mechanism that lies back of the 
 
 fact of infancy. It will be seen that this mechanism is a curious 
 
 combination of both differentiation and its absence, of the posi- 
 
 tive and definite structure and powers of maturity deprived 
 
 of just that specific coordination and maturation which is 
 
 necessary in order that they should function efficiently. 
 
 In general, infancy involves a wholesale rejuvenation of the The deveiop- 
 tissues of the body. Beginning in very primitive forms, the e 
 
 cells grow, multiply, and differentiate until the mature form is p^y pro- 
 attained. For the most part this process is controlled by and partly 
 
 heredity. In so far as it is useful for the species that this ^P 03 ^ to 
 
 J p ' e educative 
 
 hereditary control should dominate, the rejuvenated form is influences 
 ordinarily protected against such external influences as would 
 modify or check its inherent method of development. On
 
 64 Principles of Education 
 
 the other hand, wherever it becomes desirable, in view of the 
 likelihood of variations in conditions of life, that the organism 
 should be able to develop forms and functions different from 
 those of its ancestors, there exposure to external influences 
 before the functions in question have become mature is not 
 only permitted but provided for. Thus we find that such 
 powers as are designed to be affected by education have their 
 maturation deferred until after birth, or, perhaps, the mere 
 hereditary tendencies of the organism can never without the 
 cooperation of use and training bring these powers to a spe- 
 cifically useful state. 
 
 nfancy de- Thus infancy involves on the one hand the deferred and on 
 ^thfdT- tlie other the imperfect instinct. By a deferred instinct is 
 fernng of meant one the physiological foundations of which do not ripen 
 until some time after the individual has begun life in contact 
 with environmental conditions similar to those in which the 
 ' instinct will function. In case such an instinct is necessary 
 for mature adjustment, its deferring means the infancy of the 
 organism. The most striking illustration of such deferring is 
 that of the reproductive instinct. Although this instinct is 
 not necessary to the preservation of the life of the individual, 
 the fact that it is deferred exposes it to the culturing influence 
 of surroundings, just as much as though its non-appearance 
 involved a genuine infancy. Indeed, there are many phases 
 of the life of adolescence, such as enhanced sympathy, sense 
 of responsibility, etc., which are closely interwoven with the 
 ripening of the mating instinct, and are, we may properly say, 
 necessary to mature adjustment to the social life of man. In 
 so far, then, the deferring of this instinct may be said to involve 
 genuine infancy, as well as to permit the modifying influence of 
 education, 
 and (6) in- Very clear cases of infancy because of the deferring of the 
 
 StmCtlVe 11 r l r 1 . n 
 
 acts development of native powers may be found in the instinctive
 
 Readjustment^ its Conditions and Methods 65 
 
 acts. In the following discussions a distinction will be Distinction 
 made between these and the instincts. The instincts are the 
 
 functions of the organism considered from the point of view andinstinc- 
 
 of the needs that they supply. Most lists of instincts are 
 
 selected according to this conception, as the feeding instinct, 
 
 the instinct of fear, of sociability, of acquisitiveness, of curios- 
 
 ity. On the other hand, the instinctive act is a complex of 
 
 movements that constitutes an hereditarily preferred method 
 
 of carrying out one or many instincts. Crying, for example, is 
 
 an instinctive act, and it may be resorted to as a means of 
 
 satisfying the instinct of hunger, that of fear, that of sociability, 
 
 and, indeed, almost any instinct that appears during the period 
 
 when this type of activity prevails. Just as one instinctive 
 
 act may be utilized by many instincts, so one instinct may 
 
 function by means of a variety of types of instinctive or habit- 
 
 ual activity. Thus the instinct of fear may lead to a resort 
 
 to the instinctive acts of crouching, lying still, or hiding, or that 
 
 of flight, or in extreme cases, perhaps, that of desperate fighting. 
 
 Now the instinctive acts are fitted to the instincts to which Physiological 
 they constitute hereditarily preferred expressions by coordi- o n the 10 ma- 
 nations in the nervous system. Those parts the tension of turadon of 
 
 ..,., . . ....... instincts 
 
 which involves the sense of want associated with the instinct andinstinc- 
 are thus brought into connection with the muscles through which tlve acts 
 the instinctive act is performed. The maturation of the parts 
 concerned in producing the tensions in question causes the 
 corresponding instincts to emerge. The ripening of the nervous 
 connections by which a certain group of movements is made to 
 coordinate harmoniously to secure specific results means the 
 maturation of an instinctive act, and this process ordinarily 
 involves the association of the group of movements with one 
 or more instincts, to which, in consequence, it constitutes a 
 preferential response. 
 
 A good illustration of a deferred instinctive act is that of
 
 66 Principles of Education 
 
 Walking a walking. Very early in its life the child moves its legs in ways 
 deferred anticipatory of the perfected coordination. Nevertheless, 
 
 instinctive J 
 
 act the actual perfection of the instinctive tendency is invariably 
 
 delayed until the child is nearly a year old, and sometimes 
 much longer. Usually the child learns to walk; that is, 
 on the basis of an instinctive tendency as yet immature, it 
 builds by experience certain habits that perfect the coordina- 
 tion. On the other hand, certain cases cited by Kirkpatrick : 
 indicate that children, who through some peculiarity of mind 
 or body have refused to attempt either to stand or walk until 
 much beyond the usual age, may suddenly and without prac- 
 tice of any sort perform these acts in a comparatively mature 
 fashion. It follows that walking is not, as would seem from 
 most children, an imperfect instinctive act, that is, one that 
 cannot be perfected by heredity alone, but rather one that 
 is merely deferred. 
 
 infancy de- But if the deferring of instincts or instinctive acts usually 
 oITthfim" involves infancy until the hereditary tendencies have fully 
 perfection asserted themselves, even more does the lack of perfection 
 
 of instincts ,.r -.,, -i i 
 
 andinstinc- m tne instinctive tendency bring immaturity conspicuously 
 tive acts before the attention. For a deferred instinctive act may ap- 
 pear about as soon as it is needed, thus leaving no marked 
 gap of maladjustment, whereas an imperfect one necessarily 
 involves a period of learning, when the individual cannot do 
 what is needed, and is, in consequence, immature, infantile. 
 Both instincts and instinctive acts may be looked upon as 
 imperfect, although this quality is more in evidence in the 
 latter. An instinct may be imperfect through lack of defini- 
 tion of its wants until these have gained direction through 
 experiment and experience. The instinctive act may require 
 further additions and reorganization by experimentation be- 
 fore it can function effectively. 
 
 1 Fundamentals of Child Study, pp. 80-81.
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 67 
 
 When we compare the lower and higher animals, we note A rich equip- 
 
 ment of im- 
 perfect he- 
 reditary 
 tendencies 
 the basis of 
 power to 
 learn 
 
 especially the imperfection of the instinctive equipment of the 
 latter. So great is this that it is a commonplace to speak of 
 man as having not instincts but reason. Professor James l 
 has in his usual striking way pointed out both this error and 
 its occasion by showing that man has not fewer but many more 
 instincts than any other animal, but that these instincts are 
 more vague, more imperfect, more likely to conflict with each 
 other and to be modified or suppressed as a result of experience. 
 Thus the immaturity involved in the human infant is brought 
 about in such a way as to preserve all the specific forms of 
 adjustment that are characteristic of the species. They remain 
 as hereditary tendencies upon which the process of reconstruction 
 can proceed, making such reorganizations as experience suggests. 
 Here, then, we find the positive basis of power to learn. 
 
 The physiological mechanism by which the instinctive 
 tendencies are utilized as material for readjustment is in the 
 higher vertebrates that of inter-segmental nervous connections. 
 Of these Professor Donaldson says : 
 
 "Among the higher vertebrates the principal sense organs inter-seg- 
 located exclusively in the head assume a greater relative im- 
 portance, and the reactions of the entire organism become more 
 and more subject to them. This depends upon the fact that 
 the various centers distributed through the spinal cord becorne 
 connected with the cells lying at the head end in such a manner 
 as to be somewhat controlled by them. These connections 
 are mediated by bundles of fibers, which, traversing as they 
 do the length of the cord, disturb the segmental arrangement. 
 Moreover, the great development of nerve elements in the cord 
 at the regions where the nerves controlling the limbs are given 
 off causes a very considerable enlargement, extending through 
 a number of primitive segments. As a result of all these modi- 
 fications, the primitive segmental character of the medullary 
 tube is much obscured in man." 2 
 
 mental con- 
 tinuity in 
 central 
 
 1 Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXIV. 
 
 The Growth of the Brain, p. 188.
 
 68 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Resulting 
 power of 
 readjust- 
 ing reac- 
 tions to 
 stimuli 
 
 Immaturity 
 due to the 
 diffusion 
 of impulses 
 
 This inter-segmental continuity means that any given sense 
 organ may rouse the activity of any group of muscles in the 
 body. Thus if one response fails to meet the situation in a 
 satisfactory way, another may be resorted to. Here we have 
 readjustment by the use of another than the hereditarily pre- 
 ferred response when the latter fails. Moreover, the inter- 
 segmental connections make possible a readier combination of 
 movements of different parts of the body to effect a satisfac- 
 tory adjustment. Finally and especially, since the senses, 
 and particularly the higher senses, involve adjustment to stim- 
 uli the significance of which varies with time and circumstances, 
 that welding together through the central nerves of different 
 parts of the body by which these senses are put in control must 
 be accompanied by some loss of preferential associations between 
 stimuli and responses. Ability to readjust quickly means that 
 certain connections can quickly be abandoned and others 
 tried. As the development of central connections makes 
 the nervous system more and more a unity, the inherent lines 
 of connection lose more and more their tyranny of control. 
 
 The concentration of nervous impulses along specific lines 
 that lead to definitely adaptive action means maturity. The 
 diffusion of these impulses means immaturity. The more 
 variable the conditions the organism is adapted to meet, the 
 greater must be the tendency for nervous impulses to be re- 
 leased from the domination of heredity in regard to the paths 
 they pursue, and to diffuse readily into many paths. Com- 
 plexity of nervous interconnections thus involves a sort of 
 democratic equality among them, an initial equality which is 
 replaced by such preferential arrangements as experience may 
 determine. Thus we have the imperfect instinct in order that 
 the ultimate adjustments of the individual may be more largely 
 habits acquired by himself, and not so much the mere redupli- 
 cation of the instinctive methods of his ancestors.
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 69 
 
 This primitive tendency toward diffusion becomes especially 
 evident in man because of the enormous development in him of 
 cerebral control. Quoting again from Professor Donaldson: - 
 
 "The study of the lower vertebrates after injury to the dif- 
 ferent divisions of the central nervous system shows that in 
 those forms in which cephalization is but little advanced the 
 primary centers of the cranial nerves when alone present may 
 assume a guiding control over the remainder of the system. 
 It thus follows that a frog after loss of the cerebral hemi- 
 spheres can still direct its jumping movements so as to avoid 
 a visible obstacle in its path ; in other words, impressions 
 reach the central nervous system of such a frog through its 
 eyes, and these impressions influence the reactions of the mus- 
 cles of the hind legs despite the absence of the hemispheres. 
 In man, on the other hand, the parts of the brain corresponding 
 to the optic lobes of the frog do not represent a locality in which 
 such connections are established, so that in him the hemi- 
 spheres alone do the work which in the less specialized form 
 may be performed by the lower centers. In this connection 
 we naturally inquire how the cerebral hemispheres may have 
 acquired in the higher vertebrates capabilities which belong 
 to them in a less and less degree as we descend from man 
 through the zoological scale. In the higher forms it appears 
 that incoming impulses, instead of passing over in the primary 
 centers to cells which discharge downwards, pass to a group of 
 afferent central cells which carry impulses to the cortex, that 
 with the reorganization of this second pathway the first be-: 
 comes less possible, and thus the function is transferred, 
 though the causes determining the growth of the central cells 
 on which the change depends are still obscure." * 
 
 However obscure the cause, the value of the change is ap- 
 parent. For the cerebrum is the great center of universal 
 interconnections between sense organs and muscles. More- 
 over, all these connections have to a great degree that initial 
 equality which is the parent of diffusion, immaturity, and the 
 
 1 The Growth of the Brain, pp. 254-255. 
 
 Cerebral con- 
 trol as a 
 cause of 
 diffusion . 
 of impulses 
 and hence 
 of infancy 
 and of 
 power to 
 learn
 
 70 Principles of Education 
 
 need and power of learning. The animal that controls his 
 body almost entirely by his brain must, therefore, learn to 
 control it. We know now that the wriggling of the child is 
 due not so much to superabundant vitality, as to diffusion of 
 nervous currents, lack of coordination. Hence its instinctive 
 tendencies are vague and imperfect, and in so far as they are 
 deferred they may be anticipated by habits that may not only 
 modify them, but actually check them or prevent their ap- 
 pearance. 1 
 
 Summary To summarize this section, we note that the advantage of 
 
 infancy lies not in that it enables adjustment to many things, 
 but in that it paves the way for readjustment when conditions 
 change radically, as they do in the higher environments. In 
 itself infancy means immaturity, a negation, and as such it 
 does not involve capacity to learn. This positive power is, 
 however, dependent in great measure upon the physiological 
 mechanism that has given rise to and prolonged infancy. The 
 rejuvenation in the young of the higher species is not merely 
 a return to an undifferentiated form. It is that plus an heredi- 
 tary tendency that enables rapid development of mature 
 adjustments like those of the parent. In so far as it is in gen- 
 eral well that the young should be like the parent, the infant 
 organism is usually protected, so that the hereditary tendency 
 can alone determine its development. Whenever, on the 
 other hand, it is likely that a change of adjustment will prove 
 desirable in the young, there the individual is before or during 
 the development of its hereditary tendencies exposed to envi- 
 ronmental influences similar to those in which the mature be- 
 ing will function. 
 
 Thus both infancy and the capacity to learn result from a 
 deferring of the instincts and the instinctive acts. But we 
 have yet to describe the mechanism by which exposure to en- 
 
 1 Compare James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXIV.
 
 Readjustment, its Conditions and Methods 71 
 
 vironmental conditions can change the drift of the hereditary 
 tendency. This is to be found in the higher organisms espe- 
 cially in the development of elaborate interconnections in the 
 central nervous system and of an initial equality of permea- 
 bility among lines of association. Thus there results an early 
 diffusion of impulses and lack of coordination, but the ulti- 
 mate outcome is preferential associations or adjustments that 
 are due to experiment and experience rather than to heredity. 
 The highest phase of this initial diffusion of impulses makes its 
 appearance when we have cerebral control. Here the instinc- 
 tive tendencies are not only deferred, but they cease to be 
 capable without the control and guidance of experience of 
 developing into mature adjustments. They are imperfect.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 HEREDITY AND EDUCATION 
 
 SECTION 8. Differentiation of heredity and education 
 
 Race adapta- THE discussions of the preceding chapter may all be sum- 
 tion per- mar i ze d in the conception of race adaptation. The individual, 
 
 manent, in- . . . 
 
 dividual ad- unless we except some of the simplest forms of life, is only tem- 
 
 porarily adjusted so that it can maintain its life. Nature 
 seems to have abandoned the problem of effecting readjust- 
 ments to variable environments by continuous growth, and in 
 resorting to discontinuous growth to have substituted the 
 adaptation of the race or the species for that of the individual. 
 The man has only a temporary, a fleeting adjustment, the 
 race has one that is comparatively permanent, perhaps eternal. 
 
 Heredity the Racial adjustment is made by means of a mechanism that 
 preserves continuity through the discontinuity introduced by 
 tinuity reproduction. The fundamental factor in the preservation 
 of this uniformity is heredity. Heredity may be defined 
 as the inherent tendency on the part of the reproduced form 
 to resemble in structure and function its progenitors. This 
 resemblance consists of three factors: the likeness between 
 parent and reproduced form, the likeness between the off- 
 spring and an earlier stage in the life of the parent, and the 
 inherent tendency on the part of the offspring to develop along 
 
 it adapts to the li nes of growth of the parent. These resemblances exist 
 the abiding to preserve continuity, wherever this is possible, and they may, 
 therefore, be said to adapt the race and the individual to such 
 life conditions as remain invariable age after age. 
 
 72
 
 Heredity and Education 73 
 
 On the other hand, as life advances into more and more Education 
 
 variable environments its capacity for continuous growth fu ap ts to 
 
 * the tempo- 
 
 increases. This is necessary because these higher variabilities rary and is 
 
 are not periodic and capable of being specifically anticipated, 6 
 
 but indeterminate and to be met only by a great variety of tinuity 
 resources for readjustment. As the individual learns he uses 
 up these resources and thus tends to disqualify himself for 
 readjustments that involve a radical change from the habits 
 already acquired. Hence the capacity to learn, which enables 
 rapid and complex readjustment, leads the individual into 
 perilous crises in case the adaptations thus gained are such as 
 fit him to conditions that change in a revolutionary manner. 
 It follows that capacity to learn on the part of the individual 
 must, to insure race adaptation, be coupled with capacity 
 for rejuvenation on the part of the race. 
 
 Race adaptation in indeterminately variable environments Hence, ac- 
 implies, therefore, a sharp separation between that which is 
 inherited and that which is left to be acquired through individ- should not 
 ual experience. Heredity adjusts to the abiding and the extent hv 
 
 periodic, education to that which cannot specifically be antici- 
 pated. The physiological mechanism by which this separa- 
 tion is effected is that of the isolation of the germ cells from 
 the body cells, so that the former are, in great measure at least, 
 protected against those influences that mold the body cells 
 of the parent. 1 The result is that the offspring begin life with 
 substantially the same inheritance as that with which the 
 parents began. They do not to any appreciable extent dis- 
 play the influence of the life history of the progenitor. In the 
 language of biology, acquired characteristics are not inherited. Acquired 
 It is not intended here to take a radical stand on this point. 
 
 However, one does not need to be an expert biologist to see inherited 
 that with human beings very few if any acquired characters degree 
 1 Compare Weissman, The Germ Plasm.
 
 74 Principles of Education 
 
 are inherited. The great mass of such traits, language, man- 
 ners, methods of dress, occupations, nay even morals and 
 ideals, must be relearned by each new generation with pain- 
 ful effort. The task of education seems like that of Sisyphus ; 
 no sooner is it accomplished for one generation than it must 
 be resumed with a new one. The descendants of nobles very 
 quickly assume the manners of the lowly born when hard con- 
 ditions bring the children in close contact with humble com- 
 panions. On the other hand, the marks of descent of a self- 
 made generation do not remain to confute the aristocratic 
 pretensions of their offspring. 
 
 The significant thing for a theory of education is that for 
 
 the most part each new generation has to acquire anew the 
 
 habits learned by its parents, or different ones. It is of 
 
 relatively small importance whether among this mass of 
 
 acquisitions of a parent there may or may not be found a rare 
 
 occasional trait that somehow gets ingrafted on the heredity 
 
 of the stock, and is thus transmitted to the young by the mere 
 
 fact of their being born. The evident fact that such traits 
 
 are, to say the least, infrequent, means plainly that the race 
 
 is better off without the ready embodiment in heredity of the 
 
 manifold characteristics that a high degree of capacity for 
 
 education enables the individual so quickly to assume. 
 
 Lack of at- The utility of the non-inheritance of acquired characters is 
 
 the vahie a matter to which very little attention has been devoted among 
 
 of the non- those who have discussed the facts. This has been due to a 
 
 inheritance 
 
 of acquired variety of reasons, perhaps the least important of which is 
 that they may not have thought of it. A fundamental reason 
 is, doubtless, the scientific sense, which is reluctant to explain 
 the value of anything before it is definitely settled that this 
 thing is a fact. Another important cause of the neglect of the 
 value in question lies in the great emphasis that has naturally 
 been thrown upon learning as the only intelligible ground of
 
 Heredity and Education 
 
 75 
 
 bility of 
 such in- 
 heritance 
 with ra- 
 tionality 
 
 variation. Thus it has seemed that the inheritance of acquired 
 characters is so far from being undesirable that it is the only 
 source of racial variation and progress. This difficulty will 
 be considered later. Here we may note that a few scientists 
 have attended to the positive evils that would spring from such 
 inheritance. 
 
 Professor James says : 
 
 "In the mental world we certainly do not observe that the Jameson the 
 children of great travelers get their geography lessons with incompati- 
 unusual ease, or that a baby whose ancestors have spoken 
 German for thirty generations will, on that account, learn 
 Italian any the less easily from his Italian nurse. But if the 
 considerations we have been led to are true, they explain per- 
 fectly well why this law should not be verified in the human 
 race, and why, therefore, in looking for evidence on the sub- 
 ject we should confine ourselves to the lower animals. In 
 them fixed habit is the essential and characteristic law of nerv- 
 ous action. The brain grows to the exact modes in which it 
 has been exercised, and the inheritance of these modes would 
 have in it nothing surprising. But in man the negation of all 
 fixed modes is the essential characteristic. He owes his whole 
 preeminence as a reasoner, his whole human quality of intel- 
 lect, we may say, to the facility with which a given mode of 
 thought in him may suddenly be broken up into elements which 
 recombine anew. Only at the price of inheriting no settled 
 instinctive tendencies is he able to settle every novel case by 
 the fresh discovery by his reason of novel principles. He is, 
 par excellence, the educable animal. If then the law that habits 
 are inherited were found exemplified in him, he would, in so far 
 forth, fall short of his human perfections ; and when we sur- 
 vey the human races, we actually do find that those which are 
 most instinctive at the outset are those which on the whole 
 are least educated in the end." x 
 
 Professor James, according to the view previously presented, 
 errs in confining the value of non-inheritance of acquired 
 
 1 Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, pp. 367-368.
 
 76 Principles of Education 
 
 characters to man. Wherever an organism dwells in an envi- 
 ronment that varies in indeterminate ways, there the differen- 
 tiation between those permanently useful adjustments that 
 heredity may safely hand on, and those incidentally valuable 
 ones that might prove a bar to readjustment, and may, in conse- 
 quence, better be left to be acquired by the individual, should 
 exist. The wider application of the principle is brought out 
 by Mr. William Platt Ball. 
 
 Ball on the "The effects of use, indeed, are generally beneficial up to a 
 
 bad effects ce rtain point ; for natural selection has sanctioned or evolved 
 
 heritance or g ans which possess the property or potentiality of develop- 
 
 among ing to the right extent under the stimulus of use or nourish- 
 
 brutes ment. But use inheritance would cumulatively alter this 
 
 individual adaptability and would tend to fix the size of the 
 
 organs by the average amount of ancestral use or disuse rather 
 
 than by the actual requirements of the individual." x 
 
 Concrete cases of such possible ill effects of the inheritance 
 of the effects of use are given in the following extract : 
 
 "Use inheritance would crudely and undiscriminatingly 
 proportion parts to actual work done or rather to the vary- 
 ing nourishment and growth resulting from a multiplicity of 
 causes, and this in its various details would often conflict most 
 seriously with the real necessities of the case, such as occasional 
 passive strength, or appropriate shape, lightness, and general 
 adaptation. If its accumulated effects were not corrected by 
 natural or sexual selection, horns and antler would disappear in 
 favor of enlarged hoofs. The elephant's tusks would become 
 smaller than his teeth. Man would have callosities for sitting 
 on, like certain monkeys, and huge corns or hoofs for walking 
 on. Bones would often be modified disastrously. Thus the 
 condyle of the human jaw would become larger than the body 
 of the jaw, because as the fulcrum of the lever it receives more 
 pressure. Some organs (like the heart, which is always at 
 work) would become inconveniently or unnecessarily large. 
 
 1 Are Hie, Effects of Use Inherited? pp. 132-133.
 
 Heredity and Education 
 
 77 
 
 ance es- 
 pecially 
 detrimental 
 to man 
 
 Other absolutely indispensable organs, which are comparatively 
 passive or very seldom used, would dwindle until their ruin 
 caused the weakness of the individual or the extinction of the 
 species. In eliminating various evil results of use inheritance 
 natural selection would be eliminating use inheritance itself" 1 
 
 When we turn to the case of humanity, Professor Ball finds 
 these characteristic difficulties intensified. 
 
 "It (use inheritance) is often mischievous as well as anoma- use inherit- 
 lous in its action. Under civilization with its division of labor, 
 the various functions of mind and body are very unequally 
 exercised. There is overwork or misuse of one part and disuse 
 and neglect of others, leading to the partial breakdown or 
 degeneration of various organs and to a general deterioration 
 of health through the disturbed balance of the constitution. 
 The brain, or rather particular parts of it, are often overstim- 
 ulated, while the body is neglected. In many ways education 
 and civilization foster nervousness and weakness, and under- 
 mine the rude natural health and spirits of the human animal. 
 Alcohol, tobacco, tea, coffee, extra brain work, preservation 
 of the weak, and many other causes help to undermine the 
 modern constitution; so that the prospect of cumulative 
 intensification of these evils by the additional influence of use 
 inheritance is not an encouraging one." 
 
 The utility of such a differentiation of heredity and education view that ac- 
 as makes inevitable little if any inheritance of acquired char- 
 acters seems patent. On the other hand, the evolutionist is, 
 as we have seen, confronted with the difficulty of accounting 
 for the origin of the variations on the basis of which alone prog- 
 ress through natural selection is possible. To say that these 
 were originally acquired characters seems like so easy a way 
 out of this difficulty that many are loath to discard the possi- 
 bility of such inheritance, and to return to the night of ignorance 
 concerning the prime cause of evolution. Other explanations 
 of the cause of variations seem simply to beg the question. 
 
 1 Are the E/ects of Use Inherited? pp. 128-129. * Ibid., p. 15*. 
 
 quired 
 characters 
 are the 
 variations 
 that enable 
 evolution
 
 78 Principles of Education 
 
 This alone has the merit of apparently affording a clear and 
 definite cause, if, indeed, it prove a true one. 
 
 Variation However, a little reflection on the nature of the process of 
 
 aTa basis learning or acquiring characters may serve to dispel the notion 
 
 for the that tj^g j s so s i m pi e anc i fundamental an affair that it would, 
 
 power to 
 
 learn new if we only could use it, afford a lucid explanation of the origin 
 of new characters. In fact, the process of learning is not a 
 process of creating new powers or traits. On the contrary, 
 it is simply a process of selection. One can learn only as he 
 has the capacity to learn, and a capacity to learn is positive 
 and definite, a true character, without which the so-called 
 acquiring of characters cannot go on. Paradoxical as it may 
 sound, we can acquire only what we in a sense already possess. 
 We can learn to do only that which we can do, and learning 
 consists simply and literally in selecting from among our 
 potentialities those which are best fitted to achieve successful 
 results in the various situations of life. 
 
 As this proposition will in the succeeding discussions be 
 repeatedly taken up in order that from a new point of view 
 it may be explained, amplified, and defended, it will be uneco- 
 nomical here to enlarge upon it. We may, however, note two 
 things. In the first place, the conception in question is merely 
 an application of a principle laid down in section 3, that 
 growth is the development of inner powers under the stimulus 
 of a lack of adjustment to the conditions of life. The environ- 
 ment does not explain, nor even suggest the processes by which 
 an organism becomes adapted to it. It merely stimulates 
 these processes and determines which shall survive. Second, 
 since the process of learning is itself founded on capacity for 
 variation, to ascribe the origin of variations to the acquisi- 
 tions of the individual is to beg the question only a little more 
 subtly than when one attributes them to chance. 
 
 In the last analysis, perhaps, it will prove necessary simply
 
 Heredity and Education 79 
 
 to assume on the part of life an inevitable tendency to vary, inherent 
 
 to develop hidden potentialities, to display the unexpected, jj^ten 
 Given this tendency, three conceptions have been formulated dency to 
 as to the manner in which it reveals itself. These have been 
 called the theory of chance variations, that of orthogenesis, Three con- 
 and that of heterogenesis. 1 SflS- 
 
 The theory of chance variations regards the tendency to acter 
 vary as displaying itself in slight departures on the part of the 
 offspring from the norm of the parent. Slight differences in 
 form, size, proportion of parts, composition of tissue, etc., 
 appear and may be ranged around a medium type. With 
 respect to any single character the number displaying a certain 
 variation will be in a general way inversely proportional to the 
 extent of this variation from the normal. Thus we have 
 Galton's curve of distribution. 2 There will be very few very 
 tall or very short men, more who are moderately tall or short, 
 and most who are about the average height. 
 
 In order that slight variations may lead to evolution we must Evolution by 
 have the cooperation of some form of selection. Of this there 
 
 are many types, notable among which are the demonstrably and it3 
 
 * ** . J difficulty 
 
 existent natural and artificial selection, and the hypothetical 
 sexual, germinal, and organic selection. Of all these agencies 
 natural selection is the one which must be relied on most to 
 account for the origin of species ; and right here arises a diffi- 
 culty. It is hard to see that the slight chance variations from 
 the norm of the parents which can everywhere be found in the 
 offspring would be sufficient to assure the possessors of any 
 of them an advantage in the struggle for existence such as 
 would insure their survival when others perish. Unless some 
 slight variations possess this survival value there would be 
 
 1 For an admirable presentation of these views consult Kellogg, Darwinism 
 To-day. 
 
 1 Compare Natural Inheritance.
 
 8o 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Organic 
 selection as 
 giving sur- 
 vival value 
 to slight 
 variations 
 
 Organic 
 selection as 
 disinte- 
 grating 
 and build- 
 ing up in- 
 stinctive 
 acts 
 
 no tendency for them to accumulate under the influence of 
 selection until they really could produce a radical change in 
 the character of a species. 
 
 An ingenious hypothesis to assist in surmounting this diffi- 
 culty is that of organic selection, suggested by Professors 
 Baldwin 1 and Osborn in America and Lloyd Morgan in Eng- 
 land. According to this theory, slight variations, which in 
 themselves would have no survival value, may, if they are 
 possessed by an organism that has at the same time consider- 
 able power of accommodation or learning, be developed through 
 culture until they actually are of great service. The survival 
 of such accommodating organisms would insure the survival 
 of the traits upon which the process of readjustment is founded. 
 Any variation in succeeding generations toward rendering 
 these traits more pronounced would make the process of accom- 
 modation through them more sure, more swift, and more easy. 
 Such variation would therefore have selection value, and might 
 ultimately so develop the trait that it would function advan- 
 tageously without any assistance from accommodation. 
 
 Professor Groos 2 has called attention to the possibility that 
 the power to learn might, instead of favoring the accumula- 
 tion of variations in the direction of perfecting an instinctive 
 act, operate in just the other way. By rendering it unneces- 
 sary for the organism to possess perfect hereditary adjust- 
 ments, the capacity to learn permits and, indeed, encourages 
 the disintegration of perfect instinctive acts in order to favor 
 the power to readjust. Baldwin recognizes this point, and 
 meets it by showing how the power to learn, which manifests 
 itself especially in the form of imitativeness, might lead to the 
 gradual perfecting of certain instinctive acts and the disinte- 
 gration and plasticity of others. 
 
 1 Compare Development and Evolution. 
 
 2 Compare The Play of Animals.
 
 Heredity and Education 
 
 81 
 
 "If an imperfect instinct is in the way of developing for a 
 marked utility, imitation, by supplementing it, would undoubt- 
 edly aid its survival and evolution (to a perfected form). 
 Yet, on the other hand, if an instinct is in process of decay, 
 or if the conditions make its decay desirable, Professor 
 Groos's principle would then come into operation." 1 
 
 The special condition under which we might expect a perfect 
 instinctive act to decay would unquestionably be the develop- 
 ment of an indeterminate environmental variability, such as 
 would make it desirable for each individual to begin life with 
 tendencies to be perfected as circumstances suggest, rather 
 than with fixed adjustments that are either unmodifiable or 
 to be changed only with difficulty. The higher environments, Higher en- 
 involving many new, complex, and variable conditions, would 
 logically favor such a change, and progress into them would 
 bring with it decay of perfect instincts and instinctive acts. 
 Practically this is accomplished by the development of cerebral 
 control, which] has already been discussed, 2 and the cor- 
 responding loss of inherited preferential connections. This 
 change makes it possible to utilize any simple reaction wher- 
 ever it may prove useful, and thus to establish new habits and 
 new organizations of habits. 
 
 It is likely that this tendency is rather more common in the 
 higher reaches of evolution than is that of the fostering of vari- 
 ations by the power of accommodation until they may accumu- 
 late into perfect instinctive acts. However this may be, it is 
 evident that the latter sort of organic selection would suit 
 only conditions where new environmental factors possess a 
 stability that makes a fixed adjustment to them a continuously 
 valuable asset. In that event, the insecurity of the immature 
 condition and the wear and tear of learning would both be 
 minimized by the transformation of such slight variations as 
 
 1 Development and Evolution, p. 29. 
 G 
 
 Compare 7.
 
 82 Principles of Education 
 
 are useful only when supplemented by accommodation into the 
 perfect forms of adjustment that function in a fairly adequate 
 way without any intervention on the part of culture. Thus 
 selection would tend to favor variation in the direction of per- 
 fecting the instinctive tendencies. 
 
 The operation of organic selection would, therefore, follow 
 the general principle that heredity adapts to the permanent 
 and education to the transitory. Wherever in the course of 
 evolution new environments present abiding factors, there 
 heredity advances to perfect an adjustment. Whenever, on 
 the other hand, transitory conditions are to be met, there 
 education is furnished with an initial capital of imperfect, 
 plastic, alternative tendencies, and left to complete the work 
 of readjustment. Inasmuch as organic selection is based on 
 power of accommodation, and this in turn finds its use in con- 
 ditions of indeterminate variability, we might expect that such 
 selection would tend to promote those variations that are useful 
 to education, and thus to bring about the disintegration rather 
 than the perfecting of instincts. 
 
 Orthogenesis The advantage of the conceptions of orthogenesis and of 
 15? !. r0 ~ heterogenesis over that of chance variation lies in the fact 
 
 genesis tun 
 
 effect prog- that they do not need, at least to such a degree, the support of 
 ouTseiec- som e form of selection in order to explain evolution. Ortho- 
 11011 genesis means a tendency to vary in the direction of useful 
 
 functions rather than merely at random. Heterogenesis 
 signifies a tendency toward radical change such as would bring 
 about very suddenly entirely new varieties. If there be ortho- 
 genesis, selection is unnecessary to account for the origin of new 
 species, for the inherent tendency to vary is self-directed toward 
 the evolution of new and better forms of adaptation. If there 
 be heterogenesis, selection might destroy those sports that, are 
 ill adapted, but it would be unnecessary to account for either 
 the origin or the preservation of the type of those that can
 
 Heredity and Education 
 
 live. The inherent tendency to vary displays itself occasion- 
 ally in the rise of a new type that breeds true. 
 
 It is not at all unlikely that the tendency to vary takes all 
 three forms. There is much random variation, which selec- 
 tion converts into new and better adaptations. Again, the 
 variation may, from the beginning, have tended rather toward 
 the better than the worse ; or it may have come to do so be- 
 cause the tendency to variation in an orthogenetic manner has 
 a survival value and other tendencies have been eliminated 
 by natural selection. Finally, extraordinary forms do occa- 
 sionally appear ; variation sometimes proceeds by leaps, and 
 among the new creations thus arising there may well be some 
 that are even better adapted than the parent forms. 
 
 The effect of sex may be expected to strengthen all these 
 tendencies. By mixing strains of heredity it would, as has 
 generally been supposed, 1 increase the amount of variation. 
 Where conditions remain stable for a long period, there effi- 
 cient type forms would, by continual elimination of weaker 
 variants, become practically universal and uniform. Here 
 the tendency towards light variations might well be orthoge- 
 netic. Inbreeding seems to strengthen dominant characters. 
 Thus since the dominant traits are those securing adjustment, 
 variation that tends especially in their direction might properly 
 be regarded as orthogenetic, at least until by what might 
 be called a sort of racial inertia of growth the point of most 
 advantageous adjustment is passed. On the other hand, 
 where conditions are revolutionized, there selection, by favor- 
 ing rapid change, would destroy the dominance of the older 
 adjustments in behalf of the variants, and the mixture of 
 heredity in variant types would rapidly create conditions of 
 heterogenesis. 
 In resume, we may say that for any organisms that in- 
 
 1 Compare Weismann, Essays on Heredity. 
 
 Combination 
 of the 
 forms of 
 variation 
 as likely 
 
 Sex as pro- 
 moting all 
 types of 
 variation
 
 84 Principles of Education 
 
 Summary habit indeterminately variable environments education be- 
 comes differentiated from heredity as the agency by which 
 adaptation to the changing conditions is brought about. 
 This involves the non-inheritance of acquired characters, a 
 result which is attained by the segregation of the germ plasm 
 from the body plasm. Thus heredity everywhere comes to 
 adapt to the abiding, while education is left to deal with the 
 transitory. Many biologists are loath to admit the non-inheri- 
 tance of acquired characters, in spite of its evident utility, 
 because only thus, they think, can we account for the varia- 
 tions through which evolution is made possible. They fail 
 to note that the process of education itself is one of selecting 
 from among the potentialities of the individual those best suited 
 to the conditions of life. Hence it must assume the existence 
 in the individual of a power to vary or of variations. It is 
 just as difficult to account for the variations that make educa- 
 tion possible as it is to explain those through which heredity is 
 improved. It is necessary to assume an inherent tendency 
 on the part of living things to vary. Three theories exist as 
 to the character of these variations : one, that of slight chance 
 variations; a second, that of a tendency to vary toward the 
 better, or orthogenesis; and a third, that of an occasional ten- 
 dency to vary greatly so as to produce immediately what are 
 practically new varieties. All three types of variation probably 
 exist. Chance variation can produce no evolution unless 
 supported by selection. The forms of selection especially 
 important are natural and organic selection. The latter en- 
 hances the survival value of small variations by using them 
 as a basis for accommodations. It thus enables them to accu- 
 mulate into perfect instinctive acts or to bring about the dis- 
 integration of such acts into imperfect instinctive acts, as the 
 exigencies of the times make it advantageous to trust these 
 characters more to heredity or more to education. Finally,
 
 Heredity and Education 85 
 
 under the influence of sex, orthogenesis would be more apt to 
 prevail in times of stability, whereas heterogenesis would ap- 
 pear in revolutionary epochs, bringing into existence in these 
 crises such changes as may alone be adequate to insure 
 survival. 
 
 SECTION 9. Heredity as a basis for education 
 
 We have seen that capacity to learn is a positive rather than Hereditary 
 a negative thing. In the old, this capacity may be exhausted. 
 In the young, it is restored by rejuvenation. It is part of their to learn 
 hereditary equipment because it is an invariably useful pro- 
 vision, more or less adequate, from the resources of which they 
 are to find the material for their specific adjustments or else 
 fail and perish. This capacity for education is probably found 
 to some extent in all living beings. Professor Jennings says 
 of the infusoria : 
 
 "The same individual does not always behave in the same Universality 
 way under the same external conditions, but the behavior of this 
 depends upon the physiological condition of the animal. The anwng 
 reaction to any given stimulus is modified by the past experi- animals 
 ence of the animal, and the modifications are regulatory, not 
 haphazard in character. The phenomena are thus similar 
 to those shown in the learning of higher organisms, save that 
 the modifications depend upon less complex conditions and 
 last a shorter time." 1 
 
 The same statements were shown by Professor Jennings to 
 apply to the amoeba. 2 His evidence seems to indicate some- 
 what conclusively that animals at least can all learn. In gen- 
 eral, this power seems to involve the ability on the part of the 
 organism to change its customary reaction to a certain stimu- 
 lus under the guidance of experimentation. Such accommoda- 
 tion in turn involves a sensitivity to the success or failure of 
 
 1 Behavior of tlie Lower Organisms, p. 179. * Ibid., pp. 24-25.
 
 86 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Factors in 
 learning 
 
 Function in 
 learning 
 of the in- 
 stincts and 
 the action 
 system 
 
 The action 
 system il- 
 lustrated 
 in the 
 stentor 
 
 reactions, and a capacity under the feeling of failure to resort 
 to a different response. For the sake of clearness in treat- 
 ment the factors in this process may be analyzed into four : 
 (i) the instincts or wants of the organism; (2) its action 
 system, or equipment of resources by the use of which it can 
 meet these needs ; (3) a sensitivity that takes account of the 
 existence of lack of adjustment, and both inhibits such re- 
 sponses as prove unsuccessful and stimulates experimentation 
 in the direction of other ones ; (4) a physiological arrangement 
 whereby a ready utilization of the resources of the action 
 system may be brought about under the stimulus of dissatis- 
 faction, and new associations of stimuli and responses quickly 
 made strong under the influence of the opposite feeling. 
 
 The first two of these factors do not of themselves imply 
 any power of learning. However, they furnish the materials 
 upon which the operation of the last two depends. Hence the 
 number of its instincts and the extent of the resources of its 
 action system determines directly the versatility of the learn- 
 ing organism. We have already defined the instincts as the 
 functions or wants of the organism, 1 and have shown how each 
 may become effective through a variety of instinctive acts, 
 just as any instinctive act may be used to satisfy many instincts. 
 Upon the number and variety of the instincts will, of course, 
 depend the range of situations which may call for readjust- 
 ment. On the other hand, upon the number and variety of 
 the elements in the action system will depend the richness of 
 the resources for readjustment, the number of things that 
 can be learned. 
 
 The expression action system is borrowed from Professor 
 Jennings. 2 A good illustration of an action system may be 
 found in that of the stentor, the behavior of which is described 
 
 1 Compare 7. 
 
 2 Compare Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 300.
 
 Heredity and Education 87 
 
 by the same author. 1 The stentor is a minute, trumpet- 
 shaped, aquatic animal, which is usually attached at its foot 
 to some object on the bed of a body of water. Its food is car- 
 ried through its flaring head or mouth down into its body 
 by currents of water, which may be set in motion or controlled 
 by the movements of cilia or hairs that cover the animal's 
 surface. If undesirable foreign substances are introduced 
 into the water and enter the mouth of the stentor, it may bend 
 over, thus getting its mouth in a different place. If the ob- 
 noxious elements continue to disturb it, it may try to remove 
 them by reversing the movement of the cilia. If this fails, 
 it may contract temporarily. Finally, as a last resort, after 
 repeated trials and delays, it may break loose from its attach- 
 ment, and swim away to a more favorable locality. 
 
 Here we have in a very simple organism four alternative 
 methods of meeting a specific situation. These exhaust its 
 list of resources for learning, so far as this case is concerned. 
 It cannot learn to meet the emergency in any other way than 
 has been provided for it by heredity. But higher organisms Complicated 
 have far more complicated action systems. Hence their pow- ^he* 
 ers of learning are correspondingly increased. They possess a tion sys- 
 complicated set of muscles, to which are attached a great 
 variety of adaptive structures, such as teeth, horns, protective Corre- 
 armor, hoofs, etc. Of all these the most extraordinary in the s P ndiQ g 
 
 * resource- 
 
 possibilities of adjustment that they involve are the hand and fulness in 
 
 the vocal organs in man. Through the hand man is able to 
 extend to an almost inconceivable degree the artificial resources 
 of adaptation which make up what we have called the artificial 
 environment. 2 Tools, clothing, weapons, shelter, fire, all 
 that enormous array of instrumentalities by which man im- 
 proves upon the equipment with which nature provides him, 
 are very considerably dependent on the remarkable versatility 
 
 1 Ibid., pp. 170-179. 3 Compare 4.
 
 88 Principles of Education 
 
 of the hand. They give to man an action system incompa- 
 rably richer than that of any lower animal. 
 
 Just as the hand, when reenforced and controlled by ade- 
 quate physical and mental power, enables an enormous expan- 
 sion of the action system in the way of artificial resources, so 
 the vocal organs, when given similar support, put at man's 
 disposal, to such a degree as to revolutionize his life, an action 
 system consisting of methods of social cooperation. Very 
 little that man does fails to utilize in some way such methods, 
 and his extraordinary efficiency in the use of social devices 
 rests on his ability to communicate. 
 
 intelligence The use of the hand and the vocal organs to accomplish 
 an adjunct sucn resu its is, of course, so dependent upon intelligence that 
 action sys- the servants are almost lost to sight from the overwhelming 
 WgheTani- interest in the master. It will be thought that among the 
 mals resources of the action system by far the most significant is 
 mental ability. Such is, indeed, the case, and later in our 
 discussion 1 an endeavor will be made to analyze the function 
 of intelligence, and to determine the point of view from which 
 it constitutes part of the resources for action. That matter 
 may here, however, better be left as a promise, in order not to 
 complicate too much the consideration of the rudimentary fac- 
 tors in learning, which is the object of the present section, 
 interdepend- The possibilities in the way of learning depend, on the one 
 stincts and nan d, on tne number and variety of the instincts and, on the 
 action other, on the richness of the resources of the action system. 
 These two factors are in great measure interdependent. We 
 have already shown in discussing the evolution of wants 2 
 how new types of reaction, when they arise, bring with them 
 new needs. The power of movement brings with it that of 
 sensation to direct it, and this in turn makes its possessor dis- 
 satisfied with unfavorable conditions in regard to the symbols 
 
 1 Compare Chs. V, VII, VIII, etc. 2 Compare 5.
 
 Heredity and Education 89 
 
 of sense. These become quite as important to the adjustment 
 of the individual as are the fundamental conditions of life 
 which they more or less immediately and accurately represent. 
 The expansion of the action system to include apparatus for 
 swifter and more prolonged movement involves the expansion 
 of the functions or instincts to include the need of a satisfac- 
 tory environment of sense. A need could not arise unless there 
 were methods by which it could, in part at least, be met, and 
 the mechanism by which such methods are carried on could 
 scarcely long survive any need for their use. This interde- 
 pendence leads to the customary application of the term 
 junction indifferently to the wants and to the means by which 
 they may be satisfied. Nevertheless, just as we have here 
 limited the term instinct to the need, so perhaps it will be in the 
 interest of clearness to regard the function as the instinct. To 
 speak of an instinct as a function, then, simply emphasizes 
 the fact that it is endowed with an equipment of activities 
 for its realization. Thus we preserve the distinction between 
 the needs and the action system, while recognizing their inter- 
 dependence. 
 
 The value of this distinction comes especially in evidence Factors con- 
 when we pass on to the discussion of the last two factors which 
 were included in our analysis of the condition of learning, effecting 
 These are, sensitivity to lack of adjustment, and a physiologi- 
 cal provision for utilizing other than the customary reactions 
 to meet a certain situation. Here we come upon that part of 
 the hereditary equipment of the organism which exists solely 
 for the sake of readjustment, or learning. It is possible to 
 imagine a creature with a complicated action system and a 
 complicated set of instincts, or needs, but with the responses 
 so perfectly adjusted to the stimuli that there never would be 
 any occasion for readjustment. Moreover, the same creature 
 might have these reactions so mechanically attached to their
 
 90 Principles of Education 
 
 respective stimuli that no others could be substituted. Such a 
 being could not readjust. 
 
 In our hypothetical complicated being with many reactions 
 but no power of readjustment, there would be no occasion to 
 distinguish between the needs and the action system. Such 
 a creature would be like a machine, having no needs, and, 
 except for the purposes of some one who uses it, no functions. 
 It would operate, but not in any true sense react. The dis- 
 tinction between the needs, uses, instincts, or functions and 
 the action system becomes real and important the moment 
 we consider the possibility of refitting the latter to the former. 
 Then it becomes a vital distinction, indispensable to a compre- 
 hension of the nature of the learning process. As we have 
 seen, the needs and the action system expand together. Each 
 new instinct involves a group of typical activities, through 
 Power to which especially it is able to function. The essence of power 
 capacity to to l earn ^ es m tne P ower to use new activities to function at 
 utilize ex- the behest of old instincts as well, or, as is quite as frequently 
 powers in desirable, to be able to use old forms of activity in the inter- 
 new uses es |- o f new purposes. Under such circumstances alone do the 
 number and variety of the instincts and of the resources of 
 the action system become determinative of the degree of the 
 power to learn. 
 
 its physio- The physiological arrangement that makes possible a ready 
 resort from one to another of the resources of the action sys- 
 tem is a central system of nerves bringing together the various 
 segmentary circuits in the nervous system. The evolution 
 of this central connecting system has already been discussed 
 in connection with the evolution of infancy. 1 Given such a 
 system, and the readiness of learning depends on the absence 
 therein of preferential associations between stimuli and re- 
 sponses. Wherever owing to heredity or training such prefer- 
 
 1 Compare 7.
 
 Heredity and Education 91 
 
 ential associations exist, there the power to utilize other than 
 the associated responses is in part interfered with, and rendered 
 slow or difficult. Heredity, therefore, endows one with capacity 
 to learn by the gift of a central nervous system with which all 
 parts of the sensory and motor apparatus are closely connected, 
 and in which the preferential associations tend to be few or 
 feeble and the amount of diffusion in nervous currents cor- 
 respondingly great. 
 
 This primitive equality of permeability among the lines of 
 discharge in the central nervous system is accompanied by a 
 like degree of sensitiveness on the part of the nerves in regard 
 to the success or failure of any reaction. It is probable that 
 both the tendency toward diffusion and the increased sensitive- 
 ness are closely associated with lack of well-established synapses 
 among the nerve endings and a large proportion of gray matter 
 in the nerve centers. The theory that associates the chemical 
 activities of this gray matter both with the energies of read- 
 justment among the nerve associations and the phenomena 
 of feeling and cognition seems in a general way, at least, in 
 accord with facts. In that event, the hereditary basis for 
 education includes unformed synapses and much gray matter. 
 
 We have spoken of the action system as evolving in the race Learning as 
 under the pressure of specific needs, to meet which the power enk^'n* 
 to perform new types of activity appears. Their develop- the action 
 ment is not learning, nor is it primarily for the sake of learn- 
 ing. The power on the part of the individual to learn means, 
 then, in the first instance, not the power to do new things, 
 but rather that of doing old things in response to needs not 
 hitherto associated with these reactions. However, there is 
 a sense in which this power quickly to readjust the action 
 system to the needs involves an actual increase in the resources 
 of the former. This springs from increased power of perform- 
 ing coordinations of movement. A combination of movements
 
 92 Principles of Education 
 
 may be so different in character and function from any of its 
 constituent elements as to rank as a distinct type of activity, 
 a separate constituent of the action system. Therefore, the 
 resources of such a system are composed not only of what 
 might be called certain elemental movements, but of all sorts 
 of possibilities in the way of their coordination. A nervous 
 system that connects various parts of the action system 
 enables coordinated movements. One that learns permits 
 the formation of new coordinations. From both causes we 
 have a positive addition to the resources of the action system, 
 an increase in the number of combinations made possible. 
 Dissociation We may for the sake of analysis distinguish easily two cases 
 in which learning increases the number of coordinations: (i) 
 of the ele- Muscles moved naturally in unison may be brought to move 
 the action separately, and in combinations where each moves differently 
 system from the others, as when the movements of the fingers are 
 dissociated and each takes up a different task responding to a 
 distinct factor in the stimulus. Such new coordinations are 
 well illustrated in piano playing, in typewriting, in speech, 
 etc. (2) Serial coordinations may be built up in which the 
 stimulus to each successive movement arises from the perform- 
 ance of its habitual predecessor rather than from the percep- 
 tion of some external object such as ordinarily arouses the 
 act. Thus, in spelling, the writing of a letter may be suggested 
 by the general thought of the word plus the feeling of the 
 writing of the preceding letter, rather than from the thought 
 of the letter to be written. As a result of dissociation and 
 association such simple serial rhythms as walking, running, 
 etc., are broken up and reorganized into the complicated 
 coordinations of dancing and the like. Thus the complex- 
 ity of both simultaneous and serial coordination is continually 
 increased by dissociation of factors naturally fused and the re- 
 organization of these into new combinations.
 
 Heredity and Education 
 
 93 
 
 the evolu- 
 tion of com- 
 plexity of 
 movement 
 
 The development of complexity of movement parallels that Method of 
 of complexity of consciousness. As the latter begins with a 
 vague, undifferentiated mass of sensation, and proceeds through 
 analysis and under the stimulus of succeeding experience to 
 break this into perceptions and sensations, images, and con- 
 cepts, and all the rest of the complicated content of mature 
 consciousness, so movements are at first crude mass movements 
 rather than coordinations, and later through analysis and 
 new syntheses they become the fine adjustments of skill. A 
 similar history appears in the evolution of a species. Professor 
 Loeb has spoken of instinctive acts as ''bundles of reflexes," 1 
 thus implying that the simple elements preceded the complex 
 organization, and that by their union they make it up. The 
 more usual case is where the reflex represents a special minute 
 adjustment that is evolved in the course of the development 
 and organization of instinctive tendencies. Professor Jennings 
 points out that the actions of primitive organisms are not, 
 strictly speaking, reflex. This is because "the reaction to a 
 given stimulus depends on the physiological state of the organ- 
 ism, not alone on its anatomical structure ; and physiological 
 states are variable." 2 The movements of simple forms of 
 life resemble instinctive activities rather than reflexes, in 
 that they spring from some general need of the body and 
 involve a movement of at least a large part of it, in that they 
 depend on internal conditions quite as much as upon external 
 stimuli, and in that they are replaced by other movements 
 in case the first reactions are unsuccessful. The reflexes in 
 the higher organisms represent localized reactions that are 
 in great measure rendered necessary because of the develop- 
 ment of special organs with such definite adjustments to exter- 
 nal conditions that the control of these adjustments is largely 
 
 1 Comparative Physiology of the Brain. 
 1 Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 280.
 
 94 Principles of Education 
 
 a matter of mere mechanical reaction to outer stimuli. The 
 accommodation of the lens in the eye to the distance of the 
 perceived object is apparently an ideal example. However, 
 even this mechanical reaction is dependent not only on the 
 external stimulus, but also on the internal condition of mental 
 attention, and such reflexes as winking and sneezing can 
 be utilized in emergencies far different from those to which 
 they are the automatic response. Thus the reflex, specialized 
 though it may be, is susceptible to a certain amount of internal 
 control and to utilization for other than its specifically appro- 
 priate emergencies. 
 Power to The powers of coordination and of learning to coordinate lie 
 
 for** back of the differentiation of the action system. This is 
 
 the differ- ^ rue f or fag ver y s j m pi e reason that specialization is impossible 
 
 entiation of . . . , . . 
 
 the action without cooperation. Differentiation and integration are 
 complementary, and for successful living inseparable. Thus 
 the evolution of a central nervous system with its powers of 
 organization and reorganization means the evolution of the 
 condition under which the action system is permitted to dif- 
 ferentiate and become highly specialized. The enlargement 
 of the resources of learning comes as an outgrowth of the 
 capacity to utilize these resources in readjustment. Central 
 coordinating power not only enables the addition of complex 
 movements to the simple ones already possible, but it opens 
 the opportunity for the evolution of new simple adjustments 
 so specialized as to be useless until they are combined with 
 others. 
 Learning as We have spoken of learning as though it were concerned 
 
 tioTof the s l e ty in the refitting of the action system to the instincts. 
 
 instincts Such is, indeed, its primary function. The service of sensi- 
 tivity to this process is merely that of stimulus and guide. 
 However, sensitivity has a second function, in which it co- 
 operates with the power of association to modify and differ-
 
 Heredity and Education 95 
 
 entiate the instincts which it serves. We learn to be sensitive 
 to conditions that were not at first provocative of unrest. 
 We cease to feel the force of wants that earlier tended to over- 
 master us. Thus we learn not merely to satisfy instincts in 
 ways other than the customary ones, but also to change the 
 relative vigor of our original instincts as a result of the conflicts 
 and associations of experience. 
 
 It has been the purpose of this section to state the simplest Summary 
 hereditary conditions of learning, leaving elaboration to sub- 
 sequent discussions. We have seen that power to learn de- 
 pends on the number and variety of the instincts, on the one 
 hand, and on the resources of the action system, on the other. 
 But this complex equipment would not help the possessor 
 in learning unless he also were endowed with the power to 
 readjust the action system to the instincts. Such power comes 
 through sensitivity and a central system of nerves affected by 
 all the wants, and in turn capable of stimulating all or most 
 of the responses that the individual can make. Both condi- 
 tions are met in the domination of the cerebral cortex with its 
 abundance of gray matter and its multitudinous paths of 
 association. Defining automatic, reflex, and instinctive acts 
 as hereditarily preferred reactions to certain instincts, the 
 forms of activity of those who can learn would tend less and 
 less to be of such a character, and so devoted solely or mainly 
 to the use of single instincts, and to become more and more 
 random results of diffused nervous discharges, calculated to 
 evince many new uses and thus to furnish the material for the 
 new or acquired preferential associations of habit. 
 
 Moreover, the power of coordination of such a central 
 nervous system enables an expansion of the action system 
 through the addition of new complex organizations of activity 
 to the simple primitive ones, and through offering an oppor- 
 tunity for the evolution of specialized activities that would
 
 96 Principles of Education 
 
 be useless except in large coordinations. Finally, the associa- 
 tive power of the brain permits us to learn not only how to 
 satisfy our wants, but also what it is better to want. Thus 
 we may reorganize the ranking of the factors to which sensi- 
 tivity is attached, and this again is an important phase of 
 learning. 
 
 SECTION 10. Education as supplementing heredity 
 
 The function of heredity is, of course, essentially conserva- 
 
 tive. The discontinuities established because of reproduction 
 
 it mends in part by restoring to the young about the same 
 
 equipment of adjustments and resources as that with which 
 
 the parents began life. It is racial habit, that upon which 
 
 the species can rely as comparatively permanent, as a 
 
 capital not to be impaired by the gains or losses of any gen- 
 
 eration. In proportion as environments are indeterminately 
 
 variable, these acquired characters become numerous and 
 
 indispensable to mature life. Many, indeed, most of them, 
 
 Human it might be of advantage to preserve. Each generation has 
 
 Led To re- * l earn habits of speech, of manners and morals, of occupa- 
 
 leam most tions, of dress, and of countless other things that it might seem 
 
 quired economical for them to get by heredity. However, the indis- 
 
 P ensa kl e capacity for readjustment must be bought, even at 
 parents such a price. 
 
 On the other hand, the waste is, in part at least, remedied 
 by the function to enable which it is incurred. The greater 
 the power to learn, the more readily the new generation can 
 regain such of the acquired characters of its parents as seem 
 necessary or desirable. The process of learning these ancestral 
 ways is, of course, education, and in performing this service 
 education is a conservative agency and supplements heredity. 
 This function of education is, however, a secondary one.
 
 Heredity and Education 97 
 
 From the point of view of the individual, learning is always Recapituia- 
 readjustment, change, ordinarily progress. When, however, 
 this process concerns itself with relearning the characters supple- 
 previously acquired by the parent, education becomes from heredity 
 the point of view of the race a factor making for conservation 
 rather than for advance. Education devoted to this secondary 
 function we may call recapitulatory. 
 
 Recapitulatory education that takes place by the hard Social hered- 
 method of unassisted individual experience has nothing about ^d to re- 
 it except its conservative effect to ally it with heredity. But capituia- 
 when agencies appear that tend to aid it, these may well be education 
 regarded as instrumentalities of heredity as well as of educa- 
 tion. Such an agency is social intercourse, by which the young 
 of a species endowed with power to learn may acquire with 
 greater rapidity the practices of their ancestry. The relearn- 
 ing of the acquired characters of the race through the aid of 
 social intercourse has been aptly called by Professor Baldwin 
 "social heredity." 1 
 
 Save when it takes the form of social heredity, recapitula- interdepend- 
 tory education is very limited in scope. However, society is, ^jety and 
 as it were, ready and waiting to perform this function. Ca- education 
 pacity to learn, the non-inheritance of acquired characters, and 
 the immaturity of infancy involve each other. But infancy 
 involves parental fosterage, and this means, as Mr. Fiske 
 points out, 2 the existence of society, at any rate in the form 
 of a family consisting of mother and offspring. The coopera- 
 tion of the male parent in the care of the young makes it 
 possible for them to be even more helpless, and hence there 
 results to the species the advantage of greater power to learn. 
 Society has a selection value because of the importance of the 
 educability that it makes possible, and even though it had no 
 
 1 Mental Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, Ch. II. 
 1 Compare Through Nature to God.
 
 98 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 other function this would doubtless account for the tendency 
 of evolution in its direction. But the social intercourse that 
 exists primarily to foster the immature during the period of 
 learning is utilized to hasten the process of reacquiring the 
 parental habits. Parental fosterage enables the growth of 
 capacity to learn, and this in turn profits by the social inter- 
 course that it requires. Thus such intercourse becomes 
 parental training, and social heredity is born. 
 
 The interdependence of society and education will be dis- 
 cussed further in the next chapter. The aim of this section 
 is to point out, first, how education repairs the loss incurred 
 for its own sake, and in the form of recapitulatory education 
 supplements heredity by handing on acquired characters ; 
 and second, how society, indispensable to the protection of 
 immature infancy, combines with the capacity to learn to 
 aid the process of recapitulation, thus giving rise to social 
 heredity. 
 
 Advantage It will be interesting to note that social heredity revives 
 overphysi- somewhat the inflexibility of its physiological prototype. It 
 constrains the individual to follow conservative methods, 
 even though, if untrammeled, he might find better ones. 
 However, there is this advantage. Physiological heredity 
 can be modified only by the slow and savage process of natural 
 selection working upon variations in the drift of heredity it- 
 self. On the other hand, social heredity, however tyrannical 
 it may be, can be revolutionized if man so wills. In general, 
 it occupies, so far as regards the conservatism of its effects, 
 an intermediate position between physiological heredity, on the 
 one hand, and uncontrolled individualism, on the other. The 
 complex question of its evolution will be resumed in the next 
 chapter.
 
 Heredity and Education 99 
 
 SECTION n. Education as antagonizing heredity 
 
 In spite of all her safeguards Nature usually endows her Persistence 
 children with a partially undesirable physiological inheritance. 
 For this case there are two remedies: Either selection may 
 root out those who are seriously handicapped, carrying with 
 them their prospective progeny, a procedure good for the 
 race but severe on the individual, or education, more kind 
 to the victim of a bad inheritance, may strive to protect both 
 him and society from its dangerous consequences. 
 
 Among the undesirable inheritances we may include both 
 instincts and instinctive acts. Some wants may with evolu- 
 tion, and especially with advance to civilization, become less 
 important. Indeed, many of the minor instincts may cease 
 to be desirable at all. Fear and anger are certainly far less 
 useful than they have been, and, if not largely suppressed, do 
 more harm than good. Christianity maintains that the special 
 instinct for vengeance should disappear altogether. Various 
 cults have made war upon this or that instinct, so that very 
 few have escaped the hostility of some idealists. It may 
 safely be said that enlightened humanity favors a far different 
 adjustment among the inherent desires than Nature is wont 
 to provide. The undesirability of native tendencies is still 
 more evident in the case of the instinctive acts. Civilization 
 has little use for the inherent methods of gratifying fear, anger, 
 curiosity, sexual love, rivalry, etc. In respect to them educa- 
 tion has not only the task of establishing approved habits, but 
 also that of breaking up old preferential associations. 
 
 In discussing the question of how this control is brought Types of in- 
 about we may begin by considering a classification of instinc- survivals 
 tive acts from the point of view of their history and general 
 function, (i) A great number of them retain for man to-day 
 their original use in the way of bringing about desirable rela-
 
 ioo Principles of Education 
 
 tions with objects in the environment. This use may be 
 quite as great as it has ever been in the history of the species; 
 for example, such acts as nursing or walking. On the other 
 hand, it may have come to be comparatively rare, as in the 
 cases of striking from anger, or of flight from fear. (2) Many 
 instinctive acts have wholly lost their original use. Such is 
 probably true of unfleshing the teeth, or biting from anger, or 
 paralysis from fear. Acts of this class are either simply sur- 
 vivals with no present function, or they have been transferred 
 to the social use of indicating to others the state of mind of the 
 person who performs them. The instinctive expressions have 
 had in most cases this social value from the beginning. With 
 evolution, the other uses, if they existed, have disappeared, 
 leaving only that of expression. (3) With the growth of power of 
 association instinctive acts may come to constitute the response 
 to stimuli analogous to those to which they were originally 
 attached. Professor James calls this the " principle of react- 
 ing similarly to analogous-feeling stimuli." 1 An illustration is 
 the making of a wry face when some disagreeable situation 
 appears, although it may not in the least appeal to the sense of 
 taste. (4) Finally, we have that large class of internal disturb- 
 ances that constitute, according to the James-Lange theory ? 
 the basis of the emotions. They affect mainly the processes 
 connected with the circulation of the blood, secretion, digestion, 
 and respiration. Their function is in many cases plainly to 
 further the external acts by which the situations that arouse 
 the emotions may be satisfactorily dealt with. Thus the 
 roused heart beat may furnish the increased blood supply 
 for more vigorous action. 
 
 Professor Dewey is inclined to attribute to these internal 
 emotional disturbances the general function of providing the 
 energy that stimulates and fosters readjustment. 
 1 Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXV.
 
 Heredity and Education 
 
 101 
 
 "Whenever there is difficulty in effecting adjustment of 
 means and ends, the agent is thrown into a condition of emo- 
 tion. Whenever we have on one side the idea corresponding 
 to some end or object, and whenever we have on the other side 
 a stirring up of the active impulses and habits, together with 
 a tendency of the latter to focus themselves at once upon the 
 former, there we have a disturbance or agitation, known on 
 its psychical side as emotion. It is a commonplace that, as 
 fast as habit gets definitely formed in relation to its own 
 special end, the feeling element drops out. Now let the usual 
 end to which the habit is adapted be taken away and a sudden 
 demand be made for the old habit to become a means toward 
 a new end, and emotional stress at once becomes urgent. 
 The active side becomes all stirred up, but neither discharges 
 itself at once, without any end, nor yet directs itself toward 
 any accustomed end. The result is tension between habit 
 and aim, between impulse and idea, between means and end. 
 This tension is the essential feature of emotion. 
 
 "It is obvious from this account that the function of emo- 
 tion is to secure a sufficient arousing of energy in critical peri- 
 ods of the life of the agent. When the end is new or unusual 
 and there is great difficulty in attending to it, the natural 
 tendency would be to let it go or to turn away from it. But 
 the very newness of the end often represents the importance 
 of the demand that is being made. To neglect the end would 
 be a serious if not fatal matter for the agent. The very 
 difficulty in effecting the adjustment sends out successive 
 waves of stimuli, which call into play more impulses and hab- 
 its, thus reenforcing the powers, resources, at the agent's com- 
 mand. The function of emotion is thus to brace or reenforce 
 the agent in coping with the novel element in unexpected and 
 immediate situations." 1 
 
 It is evident that each of these four classes of instinctive 
 acts may prove disadvantageous to its possessor. In general, 
 the utilities that have remained most stable are those con- 
 nected with expression and with the emotional disturbances 
 
 1 Interest in Relation to the Training of the Will. 
 
 Organic emo- 
 tional dis- 
 turbances 
 due to ten- 
 sion be- 
 tween habit 
 and aim 
 
 Such tension 
 useful in 
 stimulat- 
 ing read- 
 justment 
 
 Present need 
 of control 
 of most in- 
 stinctive 
 acts
 
 IO2 Principles of Education 
 
 that further readjustment. Instinctive methods of getting 
 results have with civilization come under the ban, and have 
 been replaced by habits far more consonant with social welfare. 
 Even the instinctive forms of expression are usually replaced 
 by quieter methods, and the emotional disturbances are feared 
 lest they lead to a loss by the will of its grip upon conduct. 
 
 We have already spoken of variation and selection as help- 
 ing on in the process of removing hereditary obstacles to success. 
 There can be little doubt that these agencies have been through- 
 out the evolution of civilization at work slowly to transform 
 the instinctive equipment of the advancing races. According 
 to Sutherland: 
 
 "The moral instinct, therefore, is, in social animals, the 
 result of that selective process among the emotions which 
 tends to encourage those that are mutually helpful and to 
 weaken those that are mutually harmful." 1 
 
 Selection accomplishes this result, not merely by the elimi- 
 nation or subordination of instinctive acts hostile to social 
 welfare, but also by encouraging their evolution into deferred 
 or imperfect tendencies. Thus it opens the way for control 
 by education. 
 
 Two methods In the endeavor to master the hereditary activities two 
 
 Unglnstinc- me thods have been employed by education: one negative, the 
 
 tive acts other positive. The negative method bends all its energies 
 
 Defects of toward a direct suppression of undesirable reactions. As 
 
 tiv e e ne< these are for the most part closely associated with emotional 
 
 disturbances, negative discipline aims at asceticism, or, better, 
 
 indifferentism. This policy is generally recognized to be 
 
 faulty in the extreme. It neglects to take account of the fact 
 
 that the tendency to react to situations in some positive way 
 
 is inevitable. Inhibition is never by mere elimination. Its 
 
 1 Origin and Development oj the Moral Instinct, Vol. II, p. 304.
 
 Heredity and Education 103 
 
 primary result is, as Professor Dewey says, emotional disturb- 
 ance, and its secondary one, some consequent reaction. Thus 
 it becomes effective by the positive method of substitution. 
 To attend only to the negative phase of control is to omit to 
 consider the desirability of the substituted reactions by which 
 alone such control can be achieved. 
 
 Substitution aims to establish one preferential association Control by 
 instead of another. It is greatly facilitated by deferred ^ stl 
 maturity in the associations that it is desired to replace. 
 When one becomes accustomed to react toward objects in a 
 certain way, the instinctive tendency to react differently 
 will, if it appears later, very likely be inhibited. Thus we 
 may create what is commonly known as a "happy family," 
 where lions and lambs, foxes and fowls consort together in 
 amity. The instinctive hostility of these species is for all 
 ordinary occasions forestalled by habits that are formed before 
 the tendencies have grown strong. Whether fear of the dark 
 is instinctive or not, a child may be so habituated to it that 
 without encouragement the tendency will either not appear 
 or be very mild. An inherent weakness that predisposes 
 toward intemperance in drink may not display itself if the 
 antagonistic habits are well formed. So, too, the mating im- 
 pulse, because it is so long deferred, may, in spite of its strength, 
 be completely suppressed so far as its normal expression is 
 concerned. 
 
 Substitution may effect either of two results: It may cause Substitution 
 certain instincts, when they are roused, to result in acts which action3 
 have been made their response by training rather than in the or of in- 
 acts instinctively associated with them. Thus we may when 
 angry strive to punish the occasion of our wrath by treating 
 him with contempt or by stinging retorts rather than by a 
 physical attack. On the other hand, substitution may strive 
 to associate certain objects with instincts other than those
 
 IO4 Principles of Education 
 
 which by heredity they tend to arouse. Professor James has 
 it in mind in making the following statement : 
 
 "Another sort of arrest of instincts by habits is where the 
 same class of objects awakens contrary instinctive impulses. 
 Here the impulse first followed toward a given individual 
 of the class is apt to keep him from ever awakening the con- 
 trary impulse in us. In fact the whole class may be protected 
 by this individual specimen from the application to it of this 
 individual impulse." x 
 
 This sort of substitution may be illustrated in the training 
 of wild animals, in the cultivation of the instinct to save 
 rather than to use, or that of treating strangers hospitably 
 rather than of looking upon them with suspicion. It involves 
 a readjustment in regard to the inherent sensitivity of various 
 instincts. Some are encouraged by being habitually attached 
 to objects that naturally rouse others. Thus the others 
 atrophy for lack of occasion to display themselves. 
 
 illustration The methods and effects of substitution in reorganizing 
 troiofemo- nere ditary tendencies can, perhaps, best be illustrated in the 
 tionai ex- case of emotions and the expressions of emotion. Every in- 
 stinct has its emotional side, mild or intense, depending upon 
 the character of the emergency and the nature of the person 
 who faces it. Moreover, the range of emotional expression 
 includes all four classes of instinctive acts that were dis- 
 tinguished earlier in the section. Thus the emotion and its 
 expression include all the factors involved in the readjust- 
 ments we are considering. Taking the example of anger, a 
 child with an hereditary disposition to become violently 
 wrathful might be carefully dealt with on occasions that excite 
 the emotion, until gradually it becomes accustomed to regard 
 these situations in such ways as appeal to its sympathies, its 
 sense of humor, its knowledge of consequences, etc. It will, 
 
 1 Principles of Psychology, Vol. II, p. 395.
 
 Heredity and Education 105 
 
 however, probably be impossible, as well as undesirable, 
 entirely to prevent the appearance of the emotion. Never- 
 theless, when it is roused, its manifestations in merely instinc- 
 tive ways may be inhibited by well-bred methods of attack 
 or defense. If these are successful in meeting the emergency, 
 the occasion for anger has disappeared. 
 
 If, however, the emergency cannot be regarded as other than 
 exasperating, and if habitual or intelligently controlled methods 
 of dealing with it fail of effect, then the emotion usually grows 
 more violent, and the primitive instinctive reactions are apt 
 to be evoked. Emotion, functioning on Dewey's theory 
 as the stimulus to readjustment, provokes the brute heredi- 
 tary responses as a final resort. Suppose, however, that the 
 occasion is one where according to social standards such reac- 
 tions are not permissible. For example, one may not strike 
 a woman. Here the remedy lies in the cultivation of an 
 intense repugnance for this particular sort of act, such that 
 the barest anticipation of it would cause its inhibition. In this 
 case the instinctive act is trained by association to rouse an 
 instinct or feeling that paralyzes and so replaces it. 
 
 We have then the following phases in the control of the Phases of 
 emotion: (i) the substitution of contrary emotions habitually ^j ( 
 associated with its instinctive stimuli, (2) the substitution of 
 habitual expressions for instinctive ones, (3) the inhibition of 
 some instinctive expressions by emotions which they are 
 trained to rouse. Under these conditions we may suppose 
 that no emergency will excite a certain emotion unless in the 
 nature of the case the vigorous effort that will thereby be 
 stimulated is necessary. In that event, the first effect of the 
 emotion will be mild intellectual excitement with habitual Emotion as 
 activity under conscious control. Here emotion favors con- 
 centration of attention, presence of mind. When such methods and absence 
 fail to remove the difficulty, we may suppose that the time has
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 come for more primitive desperate measures, such as could not 
 be initiated in reflective attitudes of mind. Hence the more 
 intense emotion, scattering the attention and producing 
 absence of mind, finds its function, and brings about more 
 violent instinctive or random reactions as a last resource. 
 Even here, however, it is possible to inhibit certain intoler- 
 able acts by associating them firmly with counteracting 
 emotions. 
 
 Emotions It is interesting to note that the emotion itself according 
 
 ressed SU by to tne James-Lange theory is to be controlled, at least in 
 reaction to part, by substantially the last of these methods. For if the 
 pression expressions of emotion give rise to the emotion itself, as these 
 psychologists affirm, all that is necessary to control it is to 
 inhibit these expressions. This may be, and is, in fact, most 
 frequently done by training the individual to be sensitive to 
 the exhibition of self involved in these expressions, or to other 
 objectionable features connected with them. Thus the emo- 
 tion is provided with a safety valve by which it can check its 
 own extremes. Herein lies the oft-mentioned relieving or 
 homeopathic effect of emotional expression. It distracts the 
 attention from that which excites it and thus allows the emo- 
 tion to subside. 
 
 The fact that an emotional state has a tendency to call into 
 activity latent instinctive tendencies that may be undesirable 
 is the basis of the somewhat common notion that it exists to 
 be repressed rather than utilized. This conception has ap- 
 peared continuously in educational theory, especially that of 
 those whose ideal was discipline. Even Herbart, who was 
 far enough from being a disciplinarian, looked upon emotion as 
 something to be put down. 
 
 Herbart on "The more perfectly the human and especially the male 
 the control organism develops, the less is to be seen of all these emotions 
 
 of emotion > . v i j ,. , , . , , . 
 
 in the sphere of educational observation, and this, too, as
 
 Heredity and Education 107 
 
 early as the later years of boyhood and the beginnings of 
 youth." * 
 
 Herbart distinguishes between feeling and emotion, con- 
 demning the view that the latter is simply stronger feeling. 
 Feelings, he thinks, may be profound and yet not disturb 
 our equanimity, whereas emotion always involves a bodily 
 disturbance that is likely to prove a hindrance to the assimi- 
 lation or utilization of experience. Feeling is valuable in that 
 it always enhances the efficiency of ideas ; emotion interferes 
 and, in Herbart's own phrase, " makes feeling dull." 
 
 It is the merit of Professor Dewey's view that it establishes 
 the continuity in nature and function between feeling and emo- 
 tion. However, the more violent emotional disturbances do 
 interfere with thought, and cause a resort to mere instinctive 
 forms of activity. Hence, Herbart and common opinion are 
 right in drawing a distinction between the feelings or milder 
 emotions, which are the dynamic elements of thought, and 
 the intense emotions, with which education has nothing to do 
 except in the way of antagonism. 
 
 In conclusion, we may say that heredity leaves education Summary 
 much to undo. Many instincts and instinctive acts are no 
 longer useful, except, perhaps, in extremes. Some are unde- 
 sirable or even dangerous. This is especially true of the more 
 violent emotions and their expression, which may be taken 
 as the type of that which education must control or suppress. 
 Control can never be by mere negative discipline, but must 
 proceed by the positive method of substitution. This method 
 is made easier in application when the instinctive tendencies 
 are deferred. In any case, it aims to associate with desirable 
 instincts and emotions, the objects or situations that would nat- 
 urally arouse undesirable ones, and to forestall objectionable 
 instinctive responses to these emotions by establishing more 
 
 1 Contributions of Psychology to Education, Letter XIII.
 
 io8 Principles of Education 
 
 satisfactory habitual ones before nature has had its way 
 and hardened its tendencies into habits. When education 
 has done its work properly, it may be hoped that the intenser 
 emotions will never appear except where a resort to daring 
 instinctive experimentation is necessary. Even here intoler- 
 able responses may be paralyzed by training inhibiting emo- 
 tions to play the watchdog upon them.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 EDUCATION AND SOCIETY 
 
 SECTION 12. Early evolution of social heredity 
 THE uses of society have been alluded to from time to time. Fundamental 
 
 At the foundation of them all lies the function of providing 
 for the individual security against conditions that might over- 
 whelm him in isolation. Of all the many phases of this secur- 
 ity, that which consists in the parental care of the young while 
 they are receiving their education, and which supplements 
 this care by positive instruction, is probably the most impor- 
 tant. For without it immaturity could not exist, and, there- 
 fore, all the racial flexibility that comes through non-inherit- 
 ance of acquired characters and great capacity for education 
 would be impossible. Society may be conceived as the pack 
 that hunts more effectively from cooperation, as the granary 
 that sustains the individual when his daily search for food is 
 unsuccessful, as the army that protects him against foreign 
 enemies or the constable that preserves his personal rights, 
 as the organization of industry to utilize the division of labor ; 
 but behind all these functions lies that ultimate one of parent 
 and schoolmaster. Society is primarily an educational insti- 
 tution. 
 
 The utility of society determines the incidence of evolution 
 toward a social regime. Natural selection in the upper strata 
 of life wars upon the non-social. " United we stand, divided 
 we fall" is an epitome of the history of earlier civilization. 
 
 109 
 
 function 
 of society 
 that of 
 education
 
 no Principles of Education 
 
 Whatever makes for social solidarity is, therefore, at a premium 
 in the struggle for existence. The social qualities are, of course, 
 fundamentally hereditary. But they are also partly a product 
 of education. We have parental, social, and moral instincts, 
 but they amount to little unless cultivated in the proper en- 
 vironment. We may expect instinct and training to sup- 
 plement each other more and more effectively as society 
 evolves. 
 
 stages in the The history of this evolution is the history of education, 
 lution of" Each stage in the process brings into play new powers, per- 
 sociai he- na p s ne w instincts, and cultivates these capacities more 
 
 redity: \ 
 
 assiduously. 
 
 ,(i) Parental The beginning of this evolutionary process is found in paren- 
 fosterage ^j fosterage. Sutherland x traces the steps by which the task 
 of perpetuating the race is taken more and more from extraor- 
 dinary fecundity, and placed upon better methods of preserv- 
 ing the young that are brought forth. Among these are devices 
 that make more certain the fertilization of the eggs, guarding 
 the eggs, hatching them by the warmth of the body, nest 
 building, the evolution of the placenta and of vivaparous 
 reproduction. In these advances, made with almost incon- 
 ceivable slowness through countless ages, we see the biologic 
 preparation for parental fosterage. In every case the progress 
 is in the direction of greater economy, fewer offspring, and 
 greater care of those that are born. 
 
 Thus, according to Sutherland, parental fosterage originates 
 as an outcome of evolution in the direction of greater economy 
 in reproduction, prevention of the waste of life. In a sense it 
 is a negative factor, merely protecting the young, but not 
 equipping them with positive adjustments. However, the 
 evolution of fosterage permits readjustment by rejuvenation 
 to become more and more prominent. Thus it enables the 
 1 Compare Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct.
 
 Education and Society 
 
 in 
 
 evolution of capacity to learn. This in turn transforms the 
 social relation of parent and offspring into an educative one. 
 Mere negative fosterage becomes positive training. Com- 
 panionship evolves from protection into education, by the 
 mere growth on the part of the young of the power to profit 
 by it in acquiring the habits of their parents. 
 
 With the growth of power to learn the instinct of parental 
 fosterage becomes supplemented by a tendency to aid the young 
 in their work of development. The beginnings of this instinct 
 to teach may be noted in the lower animals. 1 The classic 
 example is that of the birds striving to teach their young how 
 to fly. Such instruction amounts to little more than forcing 
 the nestlings to use their powers, but it undoubtedly facilitates 
 the process of maturation, and cuts short the period during 
 which the efficiency of the family group is crippled by the help- 
 lessness of some of its members. It seems like a fairly safe 
 generalization to say that the instinct to teach begins with 
 the tendency to thrust the young into positions where at least 
 a partial use of their resources is necessary. 
 
 However this may be, it is evident that the prolonged pro- 
 tecting companionship of the parent offers in itself a fruitful 
 opportunity to the imitativeness which is inevitably involved 
 in any high degree of capacity to learn. This imitativeness 
 has itself been called an instinct. The psycho- physiological 
 basis of it will be discussed later. Here it is necessary only to 
 notice that it appears in all the higher social animals, as a 
 somewhat blind tendency to do the things that are perceived, 
 provided the action system of the animal makes possible such 
 acts. The perception of the act gets associated with its per- 
 formance so that the one inevitably leads to the other. Here 
 we have the "circular reaction" of Professor Baldwin. 2 It 
 
 (2) Parental 
 training 
 
 Forcing the 
 young to 
 learn 
 
 Growth of 
 imitative- 
 ness and 
 of training 
 through 
 prolonged 
 companion- 
 
 1 Compare Letourneau, L' Evolution d' 'Education, Ch. I. 
 
 2 Mental Development, "Methods and Processes," p. 133.
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Great amount 
 learned by 
 uncalculat- 
 ing imi- 
 tation 
 
 Mechanical 
 imitation 
 as leading 
 to intelli- 
 gent use 
 
 does not of necessity involve any notion of the end to be gained 
 through such imitation. 1 Thus the monkey and the parrot 
 imitate a great variety of things the significance or use of which 
 they do not in the least comprehend. It simply happens that 
 they can do these things, and that the association between 
 the perception of the acts and the impulse to perform them 
 can and does get established. 
 
 But however blind the impulse or simple the act, the ten- 
 dency to repeat what is perceived is replete with possibilities 
 in the way of handing on ancestral habits. Indeed, it results 
 in a social heredity almost as mechanical in its methods of 
 transmission as is physiological heredity. Natural selection 
 favors those who set good models on the one hand, and those 
 who imitate on the other. Thus the drift is toward a larger 
 and larger number of racial or group usages, which derive 
 their value either from their service to the individual or to 
 society. By imitation the lower animals learn to seek food 
 or water or safety in certain places. In a similar way they 
 gain some power of interpreting the signs of nature or of the 
 social attitudes of their fellows. They learn to make signs 
 that result in communication. As we sometimes say, they 
 learn to understand one another. 
 
 This uncalculating, almost unconscious imitation may lead 
 the mind, even while the acts are being repeated and made 
 into habits, forward into a dim appreciation of the use of what 
 is being done. Thus it is with the imitative as with instinctive 
 tendencies, that their purpose may come vaguely or clearly 
 to be understood when they have been repeatedly carried into 
 action. The human child imitates words without knowing 
 
 1 Professor Thorndike surmises (Animal Intelligence) that lower animals 
 never consciously endeavor to gain the results of others by imitating them. 
 This view Mr. Hobhouse (Mind in Evolution) rejects, although he admits the 
 rarity of such purposive imitation.
 
 Education and Society 113 
 
 their meaning or intending to use them in communication. 
 But the use of the word is soon learned after the power to make 
 it has been acquired. So brutes may come to use with great 
 skill and considerable intelligence habits at first acquired 
 blindly through imitation. But it must not be supposed that 
 conscious recognition of the value of these habits is indis- 
 pensable to their successful practice. 
 
 We have already emphasized the fact that this social hered- imitative 
 ity is but little more flexible than the physiological inheritance. ^oiTmore 
 It is also usually hammered out in the same savage way. modifiable 
 Those species that have a bad social heredity are eliminated ^^ 
 by selection, because their young acquire their habits almost 
 as blindly and as certainly as though these had come merely 
 by being born. Yet however small the difference, social hered- 
 ity has nevertheless a real advantage in modifiability. A 
 disadvantageous instinct, although it may be suppressed in 
 the parent, will wait its opportunity in the child. A habit, 
 suppressed in the elder generation, is no longer a model for 
 imitation, and without loss of life it disappears from social 
 heredity. Nature or the environment can by coercing the 
 individual eliminate the traits preserved by imitation, and the 
 extinction of the stock or strain of blood is not necessary. 
 Moreover, the destruction of parents or their separation from 
 their offspring before the latter have adopted some of their 
 habits would cause these traits entirely to disappear in a gen- 
 eration without the elimination of the stock. Thus there is 
 real advance in flexibility. 
 
 We have seen that parental training may supplement pa- 
 rental fosterage by instinctively selecting the safe and advan- 
 tageous time for thrusting the young on their own resources. 
 When the young are markedly imitative, and the amount of 
 social heredity to be transmitted correspondingly large, the 
 instinct to prolong the companionship of parent and offspring
 
 114 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (3) General 
 
 its conserv- 
 
 effects 
 
 Preferential 
 
 imitation 
 
 beyond the time of dependence comes to aid the educative 
 process. Thus the two instincts, the one tending to drive the 
 young into independence, and the other preserving social com- 
 munication with them so that they may learn through imita- 
 tion how to get on by themselves, supplement each other. 
 The educative advantages of social intercourse with parents 
 become greatly multiplied in the group life that the higher 
 social animals display. The young imitate other adults be- 
 sides their parents. Thus parental training comes to be sup- 
 plemented by that of society. 
 
 General social training introduces interesting new possi- 
 k^ties ^ n * ne wa Y both of variation and conservation. The 
 model of parental training tends to be interfered with by that 
 presented by others in the social group. Family peculiarities 
 may thus be swamped out, because of the mere numerical 
 preponderance of those who set a different pattern. Thus the 
 children tend toward the norm of society rather than the varia- 
 tion of the parent. Galton's law of regression toward the type 
 finds illustration in social as well as in physiological heredity. 1 
 On the other hand, general social intercourse offers in many 
 cases not one model, but many. Here it tends to break away 
 from the conservatism of family training and to suggest dif- 
 ferentiation and variety. 
 
 The possible conflicts among the models presented by 
 
 . , Al . ,. . .,.." 
 
 society open the way for struggle and for preferential muta- 
 tion. An individual who has acquired habits that are espe- 
 cially efficient or noticeable stands out as a preferred pattern 
 for the young. The leader, the hero, is in evidence even among 
 the brutes, and among men his grip enables him, as chance or 
 his will determines, both to check any tendency to vary from 
 the social norm and to swerve the current of social heredity 
 from its wonted channels. 
 
 1 Compare Natural Inheritance.
 
 Education and Society 115 
 
 We may leave the discussion of the social mechanism of Summary 
 imitation to a later section. 1 The next stage in the evolution 
 of the educative function on the part of society is the rise of 
 conscious education. Its appearance is sufficiently important 
 to constitute a revolution in the history of social heredity, and 
 in consequence we may well devote to it a special section. The 
 earlier evolution of social heredity, as we have seen, is summed 
 up in the stages of (i) parental fosterage ; (2) parental train- 
 ing, that appears, on the one hand, as a tendency to encourage 
 or compel on the part of the young the development of their 
 powers, and, on the other, as prolonged intercourse, that 
 cooperates with imitation to increase the material of social 
 heredity ; (3) general social training, that leads into the 
 complex mechanism of interference among suggestions and 
 of preferential imitation. 
 
 In this evolutionary development we may note the constant 
 tendency toward economy of life and of vital force, and toward 
 flexibility in readjustment. The immaturity of rejuvenation 
 and the loss of acquired characters involve expenditure for the 
 sake of flexibility, but parental fosterage, parental training, and 
 general social training tend successively to repair the losses. 
 Indeed, the losses are so well made good through the unthinking 
 mechanism of imitation that the flexibility, so hardly acquired, 
 is well-nigh lost. However, the advance from physiological 
 heredity to social heredity and from parental training to gen- 
 eral social training brings in each case some increase in the 
 ease of readjustment. Social heredity can be improved with- 
 out the destruction of the stock, and the larger social group 
 presents more opportunity for variation in models than does 
 that of the family. This increase in flexibility becomes 
 especially prominent when we reach conscious education. 
 
 1 Compare 38.
 
 1 1 6 Principles of Education 
 
 SECTION 13. The rise of the school 
 
 Rise of con- The first social unit to strive consciously for the improve- 
 cation in"" ment f tne young through training is, doubtless, the family. 
 the family As imitativeness and inteUigence grow, it results on the one 
 hand, that the amount gained by imitation becomes sufficient 
 to catch the attention, and, on the other, that the capacity to 
 discriminate the presence of such learning and its significance 
 to the child and to society develops. Thus man becomes 
 at last dimly aware of what his children gain through inter- 
 course. This consciousness is, doubtless, sharpened by the 
 spectacle of children whose education has been by comparison 
 with others either defective or positively bad. The evil of 
 their plight and its causes are detected by those who are con- 
 cerned in the welfare of others who might if neglected suffer 
 similarly. Consciousness here, as always, appears primarily 
 as a remedial agency. 
 
 Self-interest Conscious education on the part of the family is a natural 
 tfve of m " outgrowth of the parental instinct. It has concerned itself 
 general primarily with the welfare of the children. In a secondary 
 
 society in 
 
 sciously way the welfare of the family group, family pride, etc., have 
 
 con 
 
 educating become involved, but the primitive altruism of parental affec- 
 tion has always been its dominant note. The teaching of the 
 simpler acts of skill, of the morality of close personal relation- 
 ships, and even to a great extent of the matters that prepare 
 specifically for a vocation has always been attended to pecul- 
 iarly by the family. On the other hand, society, as distin- 
 guished from the family, first consciously addresses itself to 
 education, not so much in order to promote the welfare of the 
 illustration individual, as to train in conduct that will strengthen the group. 
 
 in primi- We may find the program of primitive conscious education 
 nlustrated m those exercises by which savages initiate their 
 young men and women into the rights and duties of adult
 
 Education and Society 
 
 117 
 
 members of the tribe. 1 These exercises may be roughly classi- 
 fied into ordeals, drill, initiatory rites, and instruction in tribal 
 traditions, religious beliefs, laws, and customs. Some of these 
 factors may be defective, if not lacking, in the exercises of cer- 
 tain peoples, but as a rule most or all are represented. 
 
 The ordeal is the test that determines whether the novitiate 
 is worthy of admission into the tribe. Occasionally it may 
 determine his standing therein. One of its almost universal 
 forms is physical mutilation of some sort, of which tattooing is an 
 especially common type. The tattoo marks are not there merely 
 for aesthetic reasons. They are the tribal brand, symbolical of 
 that which the individual is willing to endure to gain public 
 approval. Fasting and isolation from society, especially that 
 of women, or in the case of girls that of men, are also nearly 
 universal. Isolation is, however, properly ceremonial, and 
 finds its utility in impressing upon the youths the enormous 
 importance of the step they are taking. The forms of the 
 ordeal are of the greatest variety. It may consist in any sort 
 of torture that the fancy or the circumstances of the tribe may 
 suggest, from binding the youth on an ant hill, that he may be 
 bitten by these insects, to suspending him by the heels for an 
 indefinite period. The one who undergoes the ordeal most 
 heroically, i.e. most stolidly, comes out with greatest honor. 
 And, indeed, the qualities demanded here are not essentially 
 different from those that make brave and persistent hunters 
 and warriors. The tribe demands of the individual much 
 sacrifice in serving the community through the dire emergencies 
 of savage life. Social solidarity is, it is true, in the long run 
 a source of security to the individual. But it is often purchased 
 at the expense of individual suffering and death, and the willing- 
 ness to face these prospects without flinching when the welfare 
 
 1 Compare Letourneau, L'Evolution d'Educati&n, and Webster, Primitive 
 Secret Societies. 
 
 (i) The ordeal 
 as a test 
 of social 
 efficiency 
 
 Its educa- 
 tional 
 value
 
 n8 Principles of Education 
 
 of the group is at stake is an indispensable condition of this 
 solidarity. It is fitting, therefore, that the young men, and 
 to a certain extent the young women as well, should at the 
 beginning of their adult life realize by direct experience what 
 is expected of them, that the standards of social approval 
 should be applied to them in so serious a fashion as to insure 
 a real test of their courage, and a vivid realization on their 
 part of the glory of success and the shame of failure. 
 
 (2) Drill as The same motive of socialization appears as the basis of the 
 culture other features of primitive adolescent training that we have 
 
 mentioned. The drill trains either in hunting or in war. Its 
 object is to mold the individual into habits that tend to make 
 him merely a part of a larger unit, with no interests separate 
 from this. He must be made subservient to the will of society, 
 whether that be expressed by an autocratic leader or by public 
 outcry. He must acquire habits of cooperation and of obe- 
 dience and ideals of glory, that transform him from a child 
 of nature into a creature of the social order. Ratzenhofer 1 
 and Gumplowicz 2 contend that mankind emerged from the 
 primitive social condition into organized society as a result 
 of the conflict of races and the subjugation of some by others. 
 We may add that in this struggle the determining element was 
 the efficiency of these adolescent exercises, and that among 
 them the special one of drill, by which military skill was per- 
 fected, was of no slight importance. 
 
 (3) initiatory The initiatory rites contribute further to the same end of 
 their sig- efficient socialization. Often apparently meaningless or trivial, 
 nificance they become invested with religious significance, and thus gain 
 
 all the sanctions that spring from terror of the enmity of the 
 supernatural powers or hope of their favor. To the careless 
 observer the childishness, the abject formalism, the incon- 
 sistency, and the stupidity of these customs constitute their 
 
 1 Die Sociologische Erkenntniss. * Die Rassenkampf.
 
 Education and Society 119 
 
 most evident characteristics. Yet to the uncritical savage 
 they seem inevitable, and to one who studies them they come 
 as a whole to evince an utility strangely out of harmony with 
 the irrationality of the specific observances themselves or the 
 superstition of their associated beliefs. The initiatory cere- 
 monial is, in truth, only a phase of the religious life of the 
 people, and it offers an interesting example of the educational 
 function of religion. The rites are unusual, hence they are 
 easily rendered impressive, indeed, solemn. The effect is 
 heightened by the ordeals with which they are accompanied, 
 and the superstitions by which they are interpreted. Again 
 they are mysterious, and their very lack of apparent meaning 
 enhances their mystery, especially since the only intelligible 
 reason that can be urged for them is that they are all com- 
 manded by the powers of the supernatural world. Finally, 
 they almost invariably involve the seclusion of the initiated 
 from society for a certain period, and often the entire cere- 
 mony is rigidly kept secret from the opposite sex and, indeed, 
 from all except the participants. The secrecy enhances the 
 impressiveness of the whole initiation. 
 
 One cannot emphasize too much the importance of the reli- socializing 
 gious element in this adolescent training and, in fact, in the 
 work of fostering the social attitude throughout the life of the 
 individual. That religious beliefs and observances have, 
 apart from their truth or falsity, been an useful if not an 
 indispensable agency for socialization can scarcely be denied. 
 Whether with Voltaire we regard them as largely the inventions 
 of the priests to enslave mankind, or with Benjamin Kidd 1 
 as irrational phases of human thought without which the self- 
 ishness of men cannot be held in check, we must admit that 
 they have constituted a force in the absence of which it is 
 difficult to see how civilization could have been possible. 
 1 Social Evolution.
 
 1 20 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Religion a 
 
 This function is displayed very clearly in the earlier stages of 
 social evolution, where the sacrifices for social ends that are 
 expected of the individual are often too great to be produced 
 by the motive of desire for approval alone. Even a savage 
 may think far enough to realize that social glory will not help 
 him much when he is dead. But if, when he comes to reason 
 thus, he at the same time believes in the efficiency of the 
 supernatural powers to make him unhappy even after death, 
 his intelligence will not undermine the instinctive or habitual 
 social acts that both society and religion are striving to foster. 
 Moreover, even in the present life, these mysterious agencies 
 may be trusted to frustrate all his cunning in endeavoring to 
 evade the social consequences of cowardice, immorality, or 
 crime, such as come under their ban. Thus, while reason, on 
 ^ e one nan d, tends to subvert in the interest of enlightened 
 a check to selfishness certain customs that originate from instinct or 
 
 its non- ... . i , * > 
 
 unintelligent imitation, it, on the other hand, aided by its 
 ally, imagination, creates a belief in the supernatural which 
 rallies to the defense of the threatened social fabric. Instinc- 
 tive or mechanically initiated morality is gradually supple- 
 mented by the morality of superstition. 
 
 That natural selection encourages those superstitions that 
 ma ke for social efficiency can scarcely be doubted. Especially 
 is this evident in military societies, where the natural courage 
 of the individual is enhanced by the belief that he fights under 
 the protection of a tutelary spirit or deity. However, not only 
 in warfare, but also in those early stages in society where 
 castes exist, religion tends to preserve the group. Here the 
 social order depends on a habit of obedience in the subordinated 
 castes which religion fosters, thus insuring peace, the gradual 
 development of social interdependence and conditions that in 
 the long run make for greater intelligence, and a broader 'hu- 
 manity. It is not meant that religion is with primitive men 
 
 social 
 
 Superstition 
 
 natural b 
 selection
 
 Education and Society 
 
 121 
 
 mere superstition, but if we think of superstition as a false 
 belief about the supernatural, it is undoubtedly largely so, 
 although possibly always containing a substratum of truth. 
 However, even as superstition, religion may be of the greatest 
 value, and hence is favored by selection. 
 
 Indeed, not only is superstition the parent form of religion, 
 but also of those other offshoots of intelligence, philosophy 
 and science. Primitive beliefs consist of the hypotheses of a 
 dawning rational power among men. But, though imagination 
 and reason are strong enough in their infancy to frame hypothe- 
 ses, they are not capable of testing them by the methods of 
 philosophy or science. Now hypotheses are not merely true or 
 false. They also have a relation to the practices of life. They 
 are helpful or vicious in their reaction upon conduct. Opin- 
 ions that exaggerate or distort the facts of reality may yet prove 
 for a time valuable assets of institutional life. The notion that 
 a certain individual or group of men are infallible may be the 
 only means by which a people can be compelled to accept from 
 them certain rules or beliefs of the highest worth or truth. 
 Uncritical dogmatism even to-day has its value as a founda- 
 tion for force of will either in an individual or a people. Super- 
 stitions are made up of uncriticised, unverified hypotheses, 
 and they are valuable in those ages in history when a critical 
 attitude lacks such a guidance from racial experience as will 
 prevent it from resulting in mere individualism, skepticism, 
 and feebleness of social will. While science is gathering its 
 data, superstition serves to check the destructive effects of 
 selfish cunning. Such beliefs as make toward this end are 
 preserved, because the society that holds them endures. 
 
 The ordeals, the drill, and the initiatory rites, used by primi- 
 tive men as an adolescent discipline, an introduction to citizen- 
 ship, are naturally associated with the fourth phase of such 
 culture, the instruction in tribal traditions, religious beliefs, 
 
 Superstition 
 as the be- 
 ginning of 
 rationality 
 
 (4) Instruc- 
 tion in 
 traditions, 
 etc. Its 
 growth 
 into the 
 school
 
 122 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The school 
 the out- 
 come of 
 conscious 
 socializa- 
 tion 
 
 laws, and customs. This factor, at first not a distinct element, 
 gradually expands in amount as tradition and law develop. 
 Even with men accounted savage, it may occupy months of 
 training. So great a quantity of material for instruction is 
 eventually collected that the preservation and continuation of 
 it comes to constitute the principal if not the sole duty of a 
 priestly or learned class. Many beliefs become esoteric, 
 simply because the mass of the people have not time to acquire 
 them, or special training or intelligence enough to understand 
 them. Such conditions were typified among the Egyptians, 
 Hindoos, Babylonians, Hebrews, and Peruvians. Indeed, this 
 stage in social evolution is practically universal. Especially 
 is it almost certain to result from the development of a written 
 language, the first uses of which are invariably connected with 
 law, religion, and tradition. Here, then, we have the adoles- 
 cent training expanding into priestly education, and involving a 
 school, the simplest function of which is training in literacy. 
 
 The school, therefore, may be said to evolve out of the con- 
 scious attempt to educate the young. As an institution of 
 society distinct from the family, it finds its function in the 
 endeavor to socialize its people. The family remains in its 
 educative activity primarily interested in the welfare of the 
 child, and only in a secondary way does it concern itself with 
 the improvement of the collective welfare. On the other hand, 
 society first becomes interested in education, not because it 
 wishes to promote the interests of the individual who is to be 
 trained, but because it desires to strengthen itself in the struggle 
 for self-preservation, or in carrying out the enterprises dear 
 to the heart of the community as a whole or, at any rate, 
 of those who control it. 
 
 Thus the conscious education of society first reaches clear 
 expression in the exercises of adolescence. The purpose of 
 these exercises is primarily, one may say solely, that of social-
 
 Ediication and Society 123 
 
 ization. They are to train in habits and ideals that make for 
 the welfare of the group of the initiated even though they 
 involve the sacrifice of the individual. In this work, religion, 
 even in the form of superstition, is of the greatest importance, 
 for by it the belief in the supernatural is rallied to the rescue 
 of society. Thus reason and imagination create beliefs that 
 strengthen social organization in spite of the disintegrating 
 influence of intelligence when in the service of self-interest. 
 Because of this check to the disruptive actions that spring 
 from selfish cunning or the vagaries of reason in the individual, 
 natural selection, usually operative in the interest of social 
 solidarity, is enabled to encourage also the growth of ration- 
 ality. 
 
 Conscious social education is evidently far more flexible than 
 the unconscious training of imitation, for it is of the essence of 
 consciousness to discriminate and hence to present alternatives 
 to conduct. To educate consciously means to entertain the 
 idea of no education or of a different education. It means to 
 open the door to change and to readjustment, by providing, 
 on the one hand, increased sensitiveness to disadvantageous 
 educational conditions and, on the other, increased resources 
 for change in the way of suggestions as to possible methods of 
 doing things. Against the anarchic effects of such flexibility 
 we find, as we have seen, arrayed the force of ethico-religious 
 adolescent culture. 
 
 The tyranny of such culture brings with it the tyranny of 
 civilization. The "state of nature" of which Rousseau dreamed 
 is, in truth, a state of freedom from institutional tyranny, 
 if, indeed, we can anywhere find men so primitive that they 
 have no institutions. Rousseau is right also in regarding in- 
 stitutional tyranny as the outgrowth of education. Social 
 control in its most effective forms is the child of conscious edu- 
 cation and of the school. Thus the fundamental problem of
 
 124 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Purposes of 
 education 
 for social 
 control 
 
 Instincts 
 back of 
 social 
 heredity 
 
 (i) Those 
 favoring 
 passive 
 transmis- 
 sion 
 
 political history is bound up with the evolution of conscious 
 education. 
 
 SECTION 14. Education and, social control 
 
 The evolution of conscious education involves the transfer 
 of social heredity and of social control into the hands of human 
 intelligence and will. They, therefore, come under the sway 
 of purposes. We may distinguish three purposes that enter 
 in to determine the nature of education for social control. 
 These are (i) the aim of promoting the welfare of the children 
 who are trained ; (2) that of fostering society and social wel- 
 fare ; (3) that of exploiting individuals or social groups in the 
 interest of those who control the mechanism of education. 
 
 It is interesting to note that this last purpose is, like the 
 others, grounded in instinct. The advent of consciousness 
 merely furthers the tendencies that nature has implanted in us. 
 If we were to pass in review the instinctive tendencies that lie 
 back of education through social intercourse, we should find 
 the following list to cover fairly well the ground : (i) the 
 instinct to seek the society of one's kind, or sociability ; (2) the 
 instinct to cooperate in specific ways with some and to antag- 
 onize others ; (3) the imitative and sympathetic instincts ; 
 (4) the parental instinct ; (5) the instinct to seek approval ; 
 (6) the instinct to control. 
 
 Sociability is intimately bound up with that "consciousness 
 of kind" which Professor Giddings 1 regards as so fundamental 
 a fact in social life. The instincts of cooperation and rivalry 
 lead to a great variety of specific acts, such as are involved in 
 cooperation in the storing of food, in defense against enemies, 
 in the posting of sentinels, in the building of homes, in the 
 pursuit of prey, in migration, etc. These combine with socia- 
 bility to provide a constancy of intercourse greatly favorable 
 
 1 Compare Principles of Sociology.
 
 Education and Society 125 
 
 to the transmission of social heredity. The imitative and 
 sympathetic instincts go hand in hand, inasmuch as sympathy 
 is furthered by the tendency to imitate the expressions of 
 emotion. On the James-Lange theory of emotion such imita- 
 tion must result in the development on the part of the imitator 
 of some measure of the emotion felt by the one who is imitated. 
 Thus imitation makes for common feeling. Sympathy is 
 not, however, by any means entirely dependent on imitation. 
 The sight of others the situation or the expressions of whom 
 suggest feeling or desire of any sort is wont in sympathetic 
 people immediately to stir similar feelings. It is to be noted 
 that while sympathy, by transferring to one the feelings of 
 another, causes them to act somewhat alike, it does not by that 
 fact cause the sympathetic one to help the other. Sympathy 
 alone leads us to avoid the sight of suffering rather than to go 
 to its assistance. Hence, while it furthers cooperation and 
 sociability, it is not equivalent to these. 
 
 Sociability, cooperation, imitation, and sympathy favor the (2) Those 
 passive, unconscious transmission of social heredity. On the active** 8 
 other hand, the parental instinct, the instinct to seek approval, trans - 
 
 .... , . , - mission 
 
 and the instinct to control may each involve forms of the gen- 
 uine active instinct to teach. The parental instinct leads, 
 as we have seen, first to the prolongation of the companionship 
 of the elders for the sake of the educative effect of their example, 
 then to the instinct to thrust the young on their own resources 
 when proper occasions appear, and finally to the active seeking 
 or artificial creation of such occasions. The last step carries 
 us into the region of human, consciously controlled education. 
 The instinct of parental training spreads by imitation and 
 sympathy, and becomes a general attitude of society toward 
 the rising generation. It gains powerful assistance from the 
 inborn impulse on the part of human beings to gain recognition 
 for themselves and their ideas, not only from others of their
 
 126 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Social value 
 of the in- 
 stinct to 
 exploit 
 
 own age, but also from children, where, perhaps, it may more 
 easily be won. Finally, the instinct to control, to domineer, 
 to exploit, appears to drive its possessor to make use of the 
 tremendous engine of culture in the interest of his own individ- 
 ual caprices or ideals, or of his personal security, ease, and 
 comfort. 
 
 In the history of mankind it is often difficult to determine 
 the extent to which the enterprises of leaders are dominated by 
 altruistic interest in the welfare of society or by the instinct to 
 exploit. A leader who creates or controls a mechanism of 
 education by which a social group is made strong usually brings 
 about, not only an increase in social welfare, but also enhanced 
 prosperity for himself. Even though in his self-denial he re- 
 fuses to take advantage of his power to add to wealth or purely 
 personal goods, he cannot rid himself of his authority or of his 
 prestige. He has identified himself with his social group as a 
 whole, and its welfare becomes in a peculiarly intimate sense 
 that of himself. It is not that he is conceived justly to charge 
 from the community that has profited by his organizing power 
 a commission for his services, but rather that socializing edu- 
 cation has trained all men to think of the welfare of the state 
 as the thing that overshadows every individual interest, and 
 that the leader or governing class symbolizes this community 
 prosperity and, indeed, the community itself. In an age when 
 the materials for scientific criticism of government are few, 
 and when natural selection works fiercely to weed out those 
 social groups with less effective organization or less vigorous 
 loyalty thereto, it is likely that men who are governed almost 
 entirely by the instinct of exploitation may do society its great- 
 est service. 
 
 Exploitation As a matter of fact there can be little doubt that, however 
 of wdU i m P or tant it ma Y be to-day for society to get rid of the use of 
 pr 0g res3 the machinery of social control for the sake of exploitation,
 
 Education and Society 127 
 
 this practice has constituted an integral and necessary phase 
 of human progress in the past. Exploitation has not only 
 served the interests of those who govern, but it has as a rule 
 benefited the governed as well, and in the long run has served 
 as a means of promoting human progress into a truly democratic 
 age. Slavery may often be preferable to a state of nature, 
 so far as the security of life is concerned. Domestication has 
 for the lower animals its disadvantages. It is, however, the 
 price that many pay to avoid extermination. But the greatest 
 gains that spring from this stage of social evolution accrue 
 to civilization in general. They come through the intellectual, 
 social, and aesthetic advances that the governing class is enabled 
 to make from the leisure that it obtains through the system of 
 exploitation. This matter, so important in the evolution of 
 culture, will be discussed more fully later. 
 
 The ethico-religious culture, which constitutes, as we have Exploitation 
 seen, practically the sole educational interest of general society 
 at the dawn of conscious education, drifts naturally into an cation 
 agency for exploitation. This process may take place along 
 two lines. Leaders or governing classes may spring up within 
 a social group, or a governing class may be created by the 
 conquest and subordination of one tribe or race by another. 
 In both cases the role of socializing education is dominant. 
 Such education may spring from the accumulated suggestions 
 of men who are by nature endowed with much of the instinct 
 to control, but the preservation of the material depends largely 
 upon its service to the general efficiency of the tribe. 
 
 Once brought into existence, the material of adolescent 
 culture lends itself to the creation and perpetuation of a sys- 
 tem of leaders. The initiated, by virtue of the strength of 
 their social organization, the secrecy and mystery of their 
 common rites, the superstitions that surround and sanction 
 their customs, are enabled to exercise an extraordinary author-
 
 128 Principles of Education 
 
 (1) Of women ity over the uninitiated. From the very beginning women 
 by men k ave k een as a ru j e exc l uc led from the secret tribal society. 
 
 Thus, while they may have an adolescent training of their own, 
 the more powerful organizations of the men become an effective 
 agency to enhance the dominance of the male sex. 1 It is likely 
 that the superior strength of the male society is due to several 
 reasons, among which we may note first, the fact that the prin- 
 cipal service of the social training which such societies involve 
 is to promote efficiency in war, an occupation not practiced 
 extensively by women, and second, the fact that they tend to 
 run counter to the extreme instinctive partiality of women 
 for their own children. 
 
 Thus in its earlier stages adolescent initiatory education 
 tends to become an agency for the control and, indeed, the 
 exploitation of women, inspiring in them fear and mysterious 
 reverence, compelling them to yield up their children, and 
 reducing them to a kind of slavery, so far as regards the drudg- 
 ery of the economic life. In yet another way such training, 
 even while it remains the common heritage of all the males 
 of the tribe, becomes an agency for the exploitation of some 
 
 (2) of in the interest of others. Inasmuch as its nature is largely a 
 older men X mat ter of tradition, its control falls into the hands of the 
 
 elders, who are thus enabled to assume a position of great 
 authority, and in fact render the younger man quite subser- 
 vient to them. Thus they are able to substitute for the neglect 
 and the privations that the decay of old age naturally brings 
 to those dwelling in a state of nature a life of great honor and 
 comparative ease. 2 Whatever they wish they can obtain 
 through the superstitious respect that their supposed super- 
 natural powers causes them to inspire. They may even mo- 
 nopolize the younger and more attractive women of the tribe, 
 
 1 Compare Webster, Primitive Secret Societies. 
 
 2 Compare ibid., p. 60.
 
 Education and Society 129 
 
 leaving the young men to go without wives or to select them 
 from those whom the elders do not desire. 
 
 The exploitation of women by men and that of the younger (3) Of 
 men by the elders do not exhaust the possibilities of the 
 adolescent culture as a source of power and privilege. In a governing 
 general way, the honor which the initiated enjoy depends on 
 their success in the ordeal. Thus the initiatory exercise nat- 
 urally results in a rough differentiation into leaders and sub- 
 ordinates. This differentiation may be further developed by 
 the growth of the tribal society in two directions. The process 
 of initiation may be expanded, and various grades may appear 
 between the first exercise and final admission into the inner 
 circle of the elect, who really control the society. 1 Again, the 
 conditions of initiation may be such as to exclude many, 
 perhaps all but a few, from entering the society. In both cases 
 the institution tends toward the limitation of the authority 
 and advantage that springs from a control of the adolescent 
 culture to a few. It tends to differentiate the tribe into a 
 governing and a governed class. 
 
 In the further evolution of the tribal society this distinction Rise of aris- 
 may become more and more manifest. The determination culture! 
 of those who shall monopolize the machinery of social control First phase: 
 
 , ,. restriction 
 
 may come to depend on wealth or on heredity or on both, ofmember- 
 instead of upon the inherent quality of the initiates. Under ship in a 
 
 * dominant 
 
 such conditions the tribal society may come to bridge the tribal 
 gap between primitive democracy and genuine aristocratic 
 or monarchical institutions. The ethico-religious culture may 
 thereupon gradually cease to be the peculiar initiation into a 
 powerful and privileged society, and become a training of 
 general custom, that serves to maintain the social control of 
 the dominant classes. In that event, the machinery of the 
 earlier institution may still be preserved, either as a mere formal 
 
 1 Compare ibid., Ch. VI. 
 K
 
 130 Principles of Education 
 
 survival or as a contribution to the forces of conservatism in 
 maintaining the established order. 
 
 Second phase: In the complete evolution of the aristocratic or monarchical 
 state, however, the second method of transformation above 
 
 by another alluded to is, doubtless, an usual if not a necessary phase. 
 
 having a . , , .. . 
 
 superior One tribe with a superior social heredity, so far as war is con- 
 culture cerned, conquers and reduces to subjection another. In this 
 struggle it is evident that efficiency depends to a great extent 
 upon social solidarity and so upon such adolescent culture as 
 we have been considering. Originally the result of such con- 
 flicts was the annihilation of the defeated group. With 
 developing intelligence slavery or some other form of exploita- 
 tion is substituted for extermination. Society is thus broken 
 into the governing and the governed caste. Each maintains 
 to some extent its own educational traditions and methods. 1 
 However, there are modifications. The subjugated caste 
 retains just that ethical training that makes it subservient. 
 Only when its culture lends itself to this change can it escape 
 extinction. The ruling caste emphasizes more and more the 
 social discipline that makes it a coherent and efficient force 
 in war, yet couples this subservience to its own standards with 
 the arrogance of leaders toward the conquered caste. 
 Survivals of The methods and ideas of these early systems of socializing 
 adoksclnt culture survive in many of the institutions of to-day. We still 
 culture have adolescent military drill ; we have secret societies, and 
 the time for joining them as for entering the church is that of 
 early manhood. The Greeks had the manhood examination ; 
 we have the period of assuming the civil and political rights of 
 the adult. Chinese education is practically an expansion of 
 the manhood examination. Originally military in character, it 
 expanded to concern the so-called "six arts," music, archery, 
 horsemanship, writing, and the rites and ceremonies of public 
 1 Compare Gumplowicz, Die Rassenkampf.
 
 Education and Society 131 
 
 and social life. Here we find a caste education that aimed, 
 in part at least, at the exploitation of the lower classes. The 
 later democratic movements in China involved the reduction 
 of the military element to a mere form, and the development 
 of the official system of morality and custom known as Con- 
 fucianism. This is founded on literary and ethical education, 
 the aim of which is to fit the student for office. His success 
 therein is tested by a series of examinations conducted by the 
 state, and the passing of each successive ordeal either brings the 
 student nearer to an official position, or entitles him to one better 
 . than he holds. In India the caste system of education is intact 
 and intrenched. The Persians and Spartans illustrated the 
 preservation by superior military training of the supremacy of 
 a conquering caste over a numerically superior tributary one. 
 
 We have seen that recapitulatory education amounts to Practical 
 little until it takes the form of social heredity. We may add v * lue f 
 
 education 
 
 that the principal function of social heredity is to further social in social 
 life; that is, to socialize the young. This is true even of the 
 unreflective education of imitation and instinct. The acquired 
 characters which each generation of a species needs to relearn 
 consist very largely of methods of dealing with their own kind 
 and with other kinds. By the time social heredity has evolved 
 to constitute an important factor in the equipment of the 
 young, the social environment has evolved into such propor- 
 tions and such complexity as to afford in its cooperations and 
 competitions the principal problems of readjustment. When 
 conscious, social education appears, it devotes itself, as we have 
 seen, almost solely to the business of socialization. Even 
 in the hands of the family its primary object is to train the 
 children to obey, to cooperate, and finally to lead. The art 
 of social life is thus the oldest of the arts, the first to emerge 
 from the rank of an instinct into that of consciously controlled 
 devices. Religion, ethics, the science and art of social control
 
 132 Principles of Education 
 
 are the fields into which all save an almost insignificant part 
 of human thought has gone throughout the ages. The art of 
 getting on has summed itself up in a study of ways of pleasing 
 or exploiting society. 
 
 Society furnishes a medium in which the aims of the individ- 
 ual are all accomplished indirectly. It does for him what he 
 wants in proportion as he succeeds in pleasing or coercing it. 
 Social control is, however, not in the last analysis ever a matter 
 of physical force, but rather of management, of manipulation 
 of the forces that influence the wills of men. The struggle 
 for existence in society is a struggle to influence one's fellows. 
 Rise of the It is a struggle for recognition, in which conquest comes pri- 
 conform manly through conformity to the conditions and the standards 
 of the social will. Thus the natural struggle for existence 
 ceases to have the character and the results that appear in 
 the state of nature. Society is made strong by self-sacrifice. 
 Hence it encourages the development of this quality, and the 
 protection of the weak and the unfit. Its fundamental law 
 is the golden rule, and whether the individual be penetrated 
 with altruism or be purely selfish, he can gain his ends only by 
 pursuing the way of social service, at least in form. The 
 struggle for existence in society may in fact result in the 
 destruction rather than in the survival of the fit. The physi- 
 cally perfect, the brave, the efficient are called upon to serve 
 in the armies and at the front. They perish, while those who 
 are unfit for such duties survive to maintain the race. Presi- 
 dent Jordan has emphasized these negative effects of selection 
 in society. 1 There can be little doubt that the type of man- 
 hood has in many communities degenerated because of long 
 and bloody wars. What to natural man may be a condition 
 of rapid evolution, may to civilized man be an occasion for the 
 reversal of this process. Moreover, society, not content with 
 
 1 The Blood, of the Nation.
 
 Education and Society 133 
 
 thrusting into the post of danger its best blood, strives by its 
 artificial system of charity to preserve pauper and criminal, 
 feeble-minded and insane. 
 
 Thus society wars upon the principle of natural selection, Social war- 
 by the agency of which our fine physiological inheritance has 
 been sifted out. Although it is probable that we need not fear selection 
 racial degeneration as a result of our ethics, nevertheless it 
 does seem not at all unlikely that the advance of the race 
 physiologically will be more and more interfered with, if not 
 positively checked. The average intelligence of the freeman 
 in ancient Athens will, doubtless, never be surpassed in any 
 future community, if, indeed, it be equaled. However, it 
 does not follow from the slackening of progress in respect to 
 physiological heredity that the advance of society is threatened. 
 Nature shuts off each generation from tinkering easily and at 
 random with physiological heredity by providing no means 
 for inheriting acquired characters. The ethics of society still 
 further safeguards the stock against change, especially change 
 in the direction of powers to be used only in the service of self. 
 Nevertheless, in both cases the stability of physiological hered- 
 ity is more than made up by the flexibility of social heredity. 
 Progress ceases to be by the selection of men, and comes to be Progress by 
 by the selection of habits, ideals, institutions, cultures. Thus pavement 
 the destiny of the race is taken out of the hands of the butcher of social 
 and placed in the care of the social reformer, whose work can 
 be carried on without violation of ethics, and, indeed, in the 
 spirit of charity and good will toward all. 
 
 It is not meant that the processes by which the unfit are 
 eliminated have in civilized society ceased. Disease destroys 
 individuals and families. Poverty fosters disease. Sexual 
 selection leaves many of the inefficient or abnormal without 
 mates and offspring. Society in many ways wars upon the 
 non-social and discourages the continuance of traits that either
 
 134 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Consequent 
 increase 
 in the 
 rapidity of 
 readjust- 
 ment 
 
 
 Transforma- 
 tion of 
 recapitula- 
 tory into 
 rational 
 education 
 
 negatively, like indolence or inefficiency, are a burden upon it, 
 or positively, like immorality or the predatory spirit, threaten 
 its disruption. Nevertheless, it seems clear that the respon- 
 sibility for progress has been shifted from the germ plasm and 
 placed upon culture. Many anthropologists are inclined to 
 think that the differences between primitive and civilized men 
 of to-day are mainly due to nurture, and that in nature the races 
 of mankind are after all gifted with much the same capacities. 1 
 
 The shifting of the battle ground of progress from physiolog- 
 ical to social heredity, from nature to nurture, has brought 
 with it two great advances. In the first place, and from the 
 formal point of view, there has been that large gain in adjust- 
 ability, in flexibility, in progressiveness that we have so much 
 emphasized. The evolution of life is in this respect like the 
 movement of a stream that begins as a glacier. Imperceptibly 
 the gathering snows are packed into masses that begin to creep 
 down the mountain side. But the progress of the glacier is, 
 because of its inflexibility, marked by extreme slowness and 
 by terrible struggle, the signs of which are the crevasses, 
 the scoriations, the moraines. When, however, it reaches the 
 region of temperate heat, it melts, and for the rest of the course 
 its advance is swift, fluid, conforming with the greatest ease to 
 the irregularities of its bed. But with all its fluidity of adjust- 
 ment, we must remember that the foundation of the life of the 
 higher species lies in a physiological heredity that seems to 
 share somewhat in the permanence of immortality. 
 
 In the second place, and from the point of view of content, 
 capacity for readjustment, for education, for social inheritance, 
 leads into consciousness, intelligence, morality, self-control, 
 responsibility. When these factors once become clearly effec- 
 tive in the life of mankind, education advances into a third 
 stage in its development. In assuming the function of trans- 
 
 1 Compare Ratzel, History of Mankind, Book I, 3.
 
 Education and Society 135 
 
 mitting the acquired characters it became, as we saw, 1 a con- 
 servative agency. But when such recapitulatory education 
 is taken more and more under the control of consciousness, 
 as an agency to bring about the realization of purposes, we 
 find that it loses its mechanical character and becomes more 
 ideal. Men learn the power of education as a force for social 
 control. They realize that future society will be what present 
 education makes it. Above all, the exercise of intelligence 
 makes them aware of the fact of progress, and the importance 
 of education as an aid thereto. Under such control education 
 becomes rational, progressive, ideal. Its motto is no longer 
 "what was good enough for me is good enough for my chil- 
 dren." It becomes, "my children must have better advan- 
 tages than I enjoyed." Thus the conservatism of recapitu- 
 latory education is gradually replaced by the progressiveness 
 of the education of the reason, that aims not so much to adjust 
 as to equip for readjustment. The discussion of the founda- 
 tions of such education will constitute the main theme of the 
 second part of our subject. 
 
 With the growth of consciousness regarding the consequences Summary 
 of education, then, the amount of training that can be obtained 
 from the exercise of the instincts of sociability, imitation and 
 sympathy, cooperation and hostility, or even from the more 
 active instincts back of teaching, namely, the parental 
 instinct, the instinct to seek approval and the instinct to con- 
 trol, is enormously expanded. Especially do men educate 
 in the hope better to realize the instinct to control, and we find 
 that the exercises of adolescence evolve into elaborate and 
 cunning devices for the exploitation as well as for the better- 
 ment of society. Women are exploited by men, the young by 
 the old, and privileged classes may appear, either by the mo- 
 nopolization of the control of culture by a few, or by the subju- 
 
 1 Compare 10.
 
 136 Principles of Education 
 
 gation of a people with one culture by a community having 
 another which is more efficient for the purpose of war. Such 
 exploitation is not entirely an evil in its day and generation. 
 It may mean efficient organization for war or peace, protection 
 in lieu of extermination, for which tribute or service is exacted, 
 or a stable government with effective machinery for justice. 
 In the long run it means the evolution of the arts of civiliza- 
 tion, which are to a great extent a product of the patronage 
 of the leisure class. 
 
 By the time social heredity has come to assume considerable 
 importance among the processes of life, the social environment 
 attains the position of being the medium through which most 
 of the adjustments of life are made. With man in civilized 
 society, nearly all that is done involves the utilization of the 
 social machinery. Thus education comes in a double sense to 
 be for social control. On the one hand, it aims to socialize 
 men, to bring them under the sway of common ideals and 
 customs, perhaps to exploit them ; on the other, it aims to 
 train them to make use of the social machinery, to know how 
 to get on in society, to please, to cooperate, to lead, to exploit. 
 Throughout the earlier history of civilization the concern that 
 monopolizes almost all the interest of education is the art of 
 social management. In socializing men, education interferes 
 with the operation of the principle of natural selection by 
 exploiting the strong and protecting the weak, by teaching 
 the golden rule and the principle of self-sacrifice for the sake 
 of others. Thus evolution in regard to physiological heredity 
 is checked. However, progress by the improvement of social 
 heredity takes its place, and this process can be brought under 
 the control of the ideals of reason and conscience. The control 
 of reason is favorable to far more rapid change; that of con- 
 science puts the destiny of man in the hands of his own ideals. 
 Thus rational or ideal education takes the place of the blind 
 drift ahead or of mere recapitulation.
 
 PART II 
 
 THE PROCESS OF EDUCATION IN THE 
 INDIVIDUAL
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE CONDITIONS OF INDIVIDUAL DEVELOPMENT 
 
 SECTION 15. The problem of individual development 
 
 IN Part I an attempt has been made to determine the gen- Problem of 
 eral function of education as a factor in organic and especially 
 in social evolution. Put simply, organic evolution is a history 
 of the development of adjustability, of capacity for education. 
 We have seen how difficulties in the way of continuous individ- 
 ual readjustment, together with the need of combining a high 
 degree of adaptability in some respects and great racial stabil- 
 ity in others, has resulted in the functions of reproduction and 
 heredity, the differentiation of heredity from education, the 
 non-inheritance of acquired characters, the life cycle begin- 
 ning with infancy, recapitulatory education, social heredity, 
 and the development of consciousness and conscious control. 
 
 So far the problem that has so constantly confronted us has of Part n 
 been that of racial adaptation, racial readjustment and evolu- 
 tion. Now we may turn to the more minute analysis of the 
 problem of education as a matter of the development of the 
 individual. We have to consider the factors and the methods 
 that appear in the maturation and adjustment of the child of 
 an enlightened race. The importance of consciousness in the 
 process causes the issues involved to be largely questions of 
 psychology. However, their discussion will constantly lead 
 back to the question of general organic and social evolution, 
 the treatment of which not only furnishes the foundation for 
 
 139
 
 140 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Four 
 problems 
 concerning 
 individual 
 develop- 
 ment 
 
 the analysis of the process of individual development, but is 
 itself in turn dependent upon this. 
 
 The problem of individual development presents four large 
 problems, the treatment of each of which yields certain general 
 principles that it will be well to have clearly in mind through- 
 out the following discussions. These problems are: first, 
 that of the hereditary equipment on the basis of which all 
 individual development proceeds ; second, that of the relation 
 between such development and the general process of experi- 
 mentation and selection ; third, the relation between develop- 
 ment and consciousness ; and fourth, the relation of develop- 
 ment to habit. 
 
 redity 
 
 SECTION 16. Heredity and, individual development 
 
 Dependence The development of the individual is often ascribed to hered- 
 fo^educa^ ^ an( ^ education. In fact, since, as we saw in an earlier 
 tion on he- section, 1 education is dependent upon an hereditary basis, the 
 entire process of individual development is limited both in 
 scope and direction by that which comes from nature. We 
 distinguished four factors in the capacity to learn: (i) the 
 instincts ; (2) the action system ; (3) sensitivity to lack of 
 adjustment ; (4) ability to utilize the resources of the action 
 system in new emergencies. Each of these is a gift of heredity. 
 If it be objected that these factors are concerned only in be- 
 havior, while learning concerns consciousness as well as physi- 
 cal activity, we may reply that consciousness is always inti- 
 mately associated with bodily movement. 
 
 It follows that the development of each individual, includ- 
 ing the things that he can learn, is limited, and to a consider- 
 able extent specialized. We differ from each other both in 
 
 1 Compare 9.
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 141 
 
 general power and in the lines along which we are capable of 
 learning. 
 
 "The action system of an organism determines to a con- 
 siderable extent the way in which it shall behave under given 
 external conditions. Under the same conditions organisms of 
 different action systems must behave differently, for to any 
 stimulus the response must be by some component of the ac- 
 tion system." 1 
 
 Progress in flexibility, in intelligence, has meant a growth 
 in the direction of power to do any unexpected thing, as against 
 power to meet certain special situations, yet it is evident that 
 in the most intelligent beings capacity to learn is limited by 
 the range of the action system. 
 
 "Man is no more regulated by pure reason than animals 
 by pure instinct. The basis of human conduct is hereditary 
 character ; the hereditary tendency to feel, to think, to act in 
 a determinate manner. Properly considered the impulse to 
 reason is itself an instinct ; and the methods by which we rea- 
 son, the 'laws of thought,' are in the first place inherited 
 methods of reaction to the appropriate objects. They are 
 indeed improved and refined under the guidance of experience 
 and reflection, but in this respect their history is quite parallel 
 to that of the humbler instincts of animal life." 2 
 
 Not only is intelligence based on instinct and limited to the Hereditary 
 recombination of inherited modes of reaction, but also the 
 
 power to think may be very considerable in some directions mental 
 where instinctive action is well developed, while in others, 
 foreign to the instincts of the animal, it may be very slight. 
 
 "Intelligence, we shall recognize, develops in different forms 
 and in diverse directions. It originates within the sphere of 
 instinct, and in its earlier stages is shaped by the instinct which 
 
 1 Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 300. 
 *Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, p. 318.
 
 142 Principles of Education 
 
 it subserves and expands. We must not expect dog intelli- 
 gence to be quite the same thing as cat intelligence or ape 
 intelligence. It is not only a question of difference in degree, 
 but also, in a sense, of difference in quality arising from differ- 
 ence in origin. Among men we know that A, who is clever at 
 language, is incredibly stupid in mathematics, while with B 
 it is just the opposite. So, a dog may show not merely a highly 
 developed hunting instinct, but real cleverness in the adapta- 
 tion of past experiences, when it is a question of catching a 
 hare, but he may also be an intolerable dullard when it comes 
 to opening a box." 1 
 
 Social hered- The action system by which the learning of civilized man is 
 lty jf? circumscribed includes, we should remember, not only the 
 
 condition 
 
 of learning specific muscular movements and coordinations of movement 
 possible to him, but those instrumentalities that society has 
 developed for the use of the individual. We have tools, 
 clothing, fire, houses, domestic animals, machinery, wealth. 
 We have language, institutions, law, philosophy, science. 
 These expansions of our action system are our social heredity. 
 It is founded on the power to learn that comes to us through 
 physiological heredity, but it is, nevertheless, an expansion of 
 this. So extensive is the superstructure of social heredity 
 that it dwarfs and almost hides its supporting instincts. 
 
 "In fine, in the highest animal species, instinct lays the 
 ground plan of conduct within which details may be remodeled 
 by individual experience. In the human species, the ground plan 
 is itself reconstituted by the organized experience of the race." 2 
 
 The flexibility of social heredity has been in the preceding 
 pages repeatedly emphasized. Yet however easily modified, 
 it determines the lines of development of the individual as 
 positively as does the physiological inheritance. We are 
 children of our age as well as of our blood. It can, then, be 
 
 1 Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, p. 264. 2 Ibid., p. 320.
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 143 
 
 laid down as an universal proposition that one's power to learn 
 is fixed by heredity and expressed in his action system. It 
 will be necessary later on to expand further the conception of 
 the action system in order to include and to provide for con- 
 scious readjustment, but we shall find that this extension will 
 not affect its fundamental relation to physiological and social 
 heredity. The action system grows as does heredity, by 
 virtue of that inner potentiality of growth which furnishes the 
 material for all readjustment. 1 Whether or not its earlier 
 evolution in physiological heredity is governed by a principle 
 of "orthogenesis," it would seem that the later development 
 of social heredity under the control of intelligence and will 
 would manifest clearly the tendency toward the ideal. How- 
 ever, the difference is probably not fundamental, but due rather 
 to the greater ease with which variations not orthogenetic are 
 eliminated under the regime of conscious evolution. 
 
 One other point of great educational importance should be Recapituk- 
 mentioned before we leave the subject of the hereditary basis radai L fo- 
 of individual development. The elements of this inheritance dividual 
 are not, as we have seen, all transmitted to the child at birth. 2 
 This fact is almost as obvious of physiological as of social hered- 
 ity. But it is not so evident that the order of development 
 of these powers in the individual follows to a considerable ex- 
 tent that of their evolution in the history of the race. This par- 
 allelism between the ontogenetic and the phylogenetic series 
 has been and still is made much of in educational theory. 
 From the point of view of the present discussion it may be 
 stated as follows: the action system of the individual tends 
 to expand in the same way that it developed in the history of 
 the race. The extent to which this conception of recapitu- 
 lation and the educational practices based thereon are valid 
 will constitute the subject of the following chapter. 
 
 1 Compare 9. * Compare 7.
 
 144 Principles of Education 
 
 Summary We may sum up the section by reaffirming the principle that 
 
 individual development is determined by heredity. This 
 follows of necessity because of the limitation of the possibilities 
 of modification by education to the resources of an action sys- 
 tem that comes through either physiological or social inherit- 
 ance. We readjust ourselves through the materials that come 
 to us from the ages of organic and social evolution. These 
 resources, to a considerable extent at least, become available 
 in !the individual in the order in which they appear in the 
 race. 
 
 SECTION 17. Experimentation and selection 
 
 Three phases In a general way, it may be said that the formula "experi- 
 
 O f develop- men t a tion (or variation) and selection" covers all readjust- 
 ment by .... . . 
 
 experimen- ment, whether in the individual or in the race. Three distinct 
 
 selection 11 phases of the exemplification of this principle may be discerned. 
 These are: (i) racial evolution by variation and selection; 
 (2) individual development by "trial and error"; (3) individual 
 development by conscious or ideational readjustment. 
 
 The first two of these processes have been already much 
 discussed. The method of learning by "trial and error" is 
 essentially that method the factors in which are described in 
 the section on "heredity as a basis for education." 1 It de- 
 mands on the part of the individual that learns a certain sen- 
 sitivity to lack of adjustment and a power to utilize other than 
 hereditarily preferred responses in the endeavor to meet this 
 situation. The process of learning is stimulated by the sense 
 of dissatisfaction, which immediately results in the inhibition 
 of existing impulses and the initiation of diffused activities. 
 Such of these as are useless or injurious are inhibited and elim- 
 inated. If any succeed in removing the source of the dissatis- 
 
 '9.
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 145 
 
 faction, it is repeated, and a new association is formed, mak- 
 ing it the preferred reaction to the given situation. 
 
 When we compare individual readjustment by trial and 
 error with racial readjustment through variation and selection, 
 we notice an important contrast both in the materials for exper- 
 imentation and in the nature of the selection. In the case of 
 racial evolution the experiments are individuals who vary 
 from each other. The selection is done by the physical influ- 
 ence of nature, destroying all who do not succeed in conform- 
 ing to the conditions of life. If the organism fits, all is well, 
 but failure involves no reaction in the effort to better itself. 
 Such a reaction would illustrate individual rather than racial 
 readjustment. To be a true case of the latter, each new experi- 
 ment must be a new individual, springing from a varying frag- 
 ment of the germ plasm. 
 
 On the other hand, in learning by " trial and error," the ex- 
 periments are not individuals, but impulses, activities. The 
 resources for learning are not potentialities for variation in 
 germinal cells, but the action system of a differentiated body. 
 Such materials are both specialized and capable of being 
 brought into action quickly through the associating power of 
 the central nervous system. Individual readjustment demands 
 effective action speedily; otherwise the time for learning is 
 past, the organism has perished, and the work of readjustment 
 must be left to the race, in the experiment of some other indi- 
 vidual. The action system, in order to be so quickly utilized, 
 must consist of fairly mature types of reaction, or such as 
 can be quickly matured. It is not primitive, undifferentiated, 
 but complex, specialized, and at the immediate beck of a nerv- 
 ous system delicately sensitive to the needs of life. 
 
 Just as learning when compared with racial readaptation 
 involves a change in the materials for experimentation, so it 
 depends upon a new method of selection. The individual must 
 
 Learning by 
 trial and 
 
 (2) method 
 of selection
 
 146 Principles of Education 
 
 assume for itself this function. It must anticipate the de- 
 structive action of the environment. Instead of waiting for 
 nature to settle the question as to whether or not the experi- 
 mental variation is desirable, by favoring or killing the experi- 
 menter, the sense of dissatisfaction or contentment must judge 
 the efficiency of the various reactions. Thus we have, instead 
 of direct natural selection, symbolic individual selection. It 
 is interesting to note that, unlike natural selection, this symbolic 
 selection does not destroy the impulses that it inhibits, but 
 simply puts them in abeyance, to be resuscitated should an 
 emergency serious enough arise. 
 
 Thus trial-and-error learning introduces us to one phase of the 
 inner subjective life, that form of consciousness which is usually 
 called affective. From its function we might well call such 
 consciousness selective, yes or no consciousness, as contrasted 
 with cognition, which is descriptive. Affective consciousness 
 symbolizes the favor or the menace of the environment, thus 
 enabling us to change our ways before it is too late. Some 
 have wondered why we should so generally feel pleasure in 
 what is good for us and dissatisfaction in the injurious, and they 
 have tried to explain the matter by reflecting that natural 
 selection would have eliminated all who felt otherwise. This 
 is only half the truth. Affective consciousness develops, not 
 merely in such a way as to do us no harm, but rather as a fun- 
 damentally important asset of life. It is that without which 
 learning would be impossible. 
 
 We have spoken of affective consciousness as symbolic of 
 the selective agency of the environment. This does not in the 
 least imply any clear consciousness of this symbolism. One 
 feels his way toward the prudent, but does not know the rea- 
 sons that make his course so wise. So disguised is this sym- 
 bolism that ethical schools have sprung up, maintaining, on 
 the one hand, that pleasure and pain are the sole good and
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 147 
 
 evil in life, and, on the other, that they have no relation to 
 either good or evil, and should be utterly disregarded by those 
 in search of the true values of life. Both schools are equally 
 regardless of the function or utility of feeling. 
 
 The principle of experimentation and selection manifests Nature of 
 itself in yet a third way, as the form of conscious learning. 
 In the case of learning by trial and error the experiments are ^^ 
 actual reactions of the body; the selection alone is symbolic, 
 subjective. When we come to conscious learning, however, 
 we find that the experiments themselves have changed. 
 They are not movements, but rather ideas of movements. 
 The inner world has come to symbolize, not only the selective 
 agency of the environment, but also the specific conditions and 
 results associated with our activity therein. We are able to 
 represent or anticipate in detail the consequences of following 
 certain impulses. Cognitive or descriptive consciousness has 
 appeared. Thus the interplay of experimentation and selec- 
 tion becomes wholly a mimic struggle, fought out in the arena 
 of the mind. Instead of acting we think of acting, and, sum- 
 moning into the mind the consequences that will follow such a 
 course, are enabled to tell beforehand what we should do, with- 
 out the wear and tear of actual experimentation. Such learning 
 may be called ideational readjustment, inasmuch as it goes on 
 in idea. 
 
 To have conscious learning the action system must expand 
 to include ideas descriptive of the conditions and results of 
 action. Such ideas are an outcome of conscious memory. 
 They can be acquired only as a result of actual experimenta- 
 tion. We may call them experience. The gathering of expe- 
 
 i mi Primary and 
 
 nence is the function of the cerebral hemispheres. This is secondary 
 
 not their primary, but rather their secondary function. Pri- 
 marily, as we have seen, 1 the hemispheres furnish a complex bmm 
 
 1 Compare 7.
 
 148 Principles of Education 
 
 mass of interconnections in which hereditary preferences are 
 largely wanting. Thus cerebral control means ready diffu- 
 sion of impulses and corresponding facility in readjustment. 
 In this way learning by trial and error becomes easy. With 
 the growth of the power to be affected by the conditions as- 
 sociated with activity so as to retain a symbolic account of 
 experimentation, the brain gains its secondary function, a 
 function that, one might say, ultimately overshadows the 
 primary use. 
 
 The development of cognitive consciousness and of ideational 
 readjustment involves a change in the selective principle as 
 well as in the material for experimentation. Feeling becomes 
 reenforced by cognition and develops into judgment. The 
 details of this transition and of various important phases in 
 the evolution of ideational readjustment will be dealt with in 
 later chapters. 
 
 Experimentation and selection may, then, be said to consti- 
 tute the general form of readjustment. In racial evolution 
 the experiments are individuals, who represent variations from 
 the norm of the stock. Selection is here the natural or elimi- 
 native selection of the environment. In individual develop- 
 ment the process of experimentation and selection assumes 
 two phases. The first is that of learning by trial and error, 
 where the experiments represent reactions drawn from the 
 resources of a differentiated action system, and the selection 
 is by the inhibitive or favoring effect of affective consciousness. 
 Here the inner, symbolic life first manifests itself, in repre- 
 senting the selective influence of the environment. With 
 the development of conscious memory and experience, the 
 action system is supplemented by the addition of many ideas 
 in regard to action. Thus the inner life is equipped not only 
 with the power of selection, but also with plans which furnish 
 the material for ideational readjustment, and learning becomes
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 149 
 
 conscious, symbolic, anticipatory of the physical movements 
 of readjustment, and so facilitating to a remarkable degree this 
 process. 
 
 SECTION 18. Consciousness and readjustment 
 
 The fundamental relation of consciousness to readjustment 
 was indicated in the last section. It anticipates actual by 
 ideational readjustment. Thus learning is made quicker, 
 easier, and less dangerous, and its possibilities are very greatly 
 increased. We learn more quickly because thought can hasten 
 more speedily in its anticipation of the results of action than 
 movement in the realization of these consequences. We gain 
 the ease and safety of mere reflection in place of the effort and 
 the risk of actual trial. Finally, through its powers of analysis 
 and synthesis, thought is able to coordinate very complex move- 
 ments that otherwise would be impossible. Thus the resources 
 of action are enormously enhanced. Very many activities 
 are brought into interplay, and long-continued series of move- 
 ments are integrated through the power of consciousness to 
 review quickly the various factors involved, and to push 
 through in an economic way the organization of a comprehen- 
 sive plan. These advantages will be illustrated in greater 
 detail later. 
 
 We may say, then, that the primary function of conscious- 
 ness is to facilitate readjustment. Three subordinate prin- 
 ciples may be stated to emphasize phases of this fundamental 
 relation. The first of these is that all consciousness is motor. 
 Learning is, as was suggested in an earlier section, 1 always 
 learning to do. Professor Baldwin calls this principle the "law 
 of dynamogenesis," 2 and Professor James makes it one of 
 the "working hypotheses" upon which psychology proceeds. 3 
 
 Primary 
 function 
 of con- 
 sciousness 
 
 Three impli- 
 cations as 
 to its na- 
 ture: (i) 
 Its impul- 
 sive char- 
 acter 
 
 16. 
 
 2 Mental Development, Methods and Processes, p. 165. 
 * Principles of Psychology, Ch. I.
 
 150 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (2) Its de- 
 pendence 
 on emer- 
 gencies 
 
 The principle seems to follow as a natural consequence of the 
 structure of the nervous system, where all paths lead to the 
 muscles. This is true even of the complicated fibers in the 
 cerebral hemispheres, for these ultimately land the currents 
 they bear in the motor areas. It is true that ordinary obser- 
 vation seems to furnish us with cases where men think but do 
 not act. However, minute experimentation invariably reveals 
 some physical expression in eye movements, muscular tension, 
 change in circulation, or the like. 
 
 A second subordinate principle is that consciousness occurs 
 only when readjustment of some sort is necessary. With 
 many psychologists the criterion of consciousness in the lower 
 animals is their power to learn. This is the view of Spencer, 
 Bain, Romanes, Royce, Baldwin, and others too numerous 
 to mention. The newer school of so-called "functional" 
 psychologists reemphasizes this point, declaring that conscious- 
 ness is what it does, and that, in consequence, it never appears 
 except as it functions in readjustment. 
 
 "A closer inspection of the situation will suggest to us the 
 generalization, which is undoubtedly correct, that we shall 
 find consciousness appearing at those points where there is 
 incapacity on the part of the purely physiological mechanism 
 to cope with the demands of the surroundings. If the reflexes 
 and the automatic acts were wholly competent to steer the or- 
 ganism throughout its course, there is no reason to suppose 
 consciousness would ever put in an appearance. Certainly 
 we never find it intruding itself where these conditions are 
 observed, except in pathological instances." * 
 
 (3) Critical The third principle may be immediately derived from this, 
 of The fac- ^ s consciousness is' always the outgrowth of disturbances in 
 tors that it activities that up to that time were performed instinctively, 
 
 represents . r 
 
 so it consists in a gradual process of representing in idea the 
 
 1 Angell, Psychology, p. 50.
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 151 
 
 , 
 
 essential features of the situations where things are going 
 wrong. The preliminary step in this process is inhibition. 
 Inhibition provides the opportunity for the growth and the 
 utilization of ideational or reflective experimentation, if 
 you will, deliberation. Consciousness evolves as a symbolism, 
 representing such features of the situation and of the experi- 
 mental efforts to solve it as prove most valuable in leading to 
 effective action. It is always at the critical point in the 
 struggle for readjustment, and its view is either wholly or for 
 the time limited to attending to such factors in the situations 
 with which it deals as must be distinguished in order that the 
 appropriate reactions may be applied to them. 
 
 Consciousness, therefore, may be conceived as largely con- 
 cerned in rendering intelligent actions that at first were un- 
 consciously performed. Thus the transition from instinct to 
 reason seems like one from an unconscious to a conscious 
 teleology. The mind fathoms the mechanism by which the 
 individual gains his ends, in order to improve it in this or that 
 detail. As this process of taking under control the functions 
 goes on, consciousness attends first to the matters that are more 
 immediate. It learns how to do things before it learns why 
 they are done. Subsequent mental development proceeds TWO direc- 
 in two directions. On the one hand, it goes from the conscious- 
 ness of the end immediately to be gained to more and more 
 remote ends, thus unraveling the teleology of its being. On 
 the other hand, it analyzes each activity into the elements of 
 which it is composed, thereby approaching more nearly to a 
 comprehension of the physical and physiological and even 
 the psychological mechanism upon which its effectiveness 
 depends. Both kinds of knowledge, normative and natural, 
 knowledge of values and of agencies, of final and of efficient 
 causes, are indispensable to a complete and satisfactory 
 adjustment. 
 
 tions in 
 which con- 
 sciousness 
 develops
 
 152 Principles of Education 
 
 Social heredity presents to consciousness the same problem 
 of reconstruction as does physiological heredity. The activ- 
 ities and the instruments of activity, the control of which comes 
 to us by imitation, are not at first comprehended either in their 
 mechanism or in their ultimate significance. But our social, 
 even more than our physiological inheritance needs to be 
 corrected and improved, and one of the principal tasks of con- 
 sciousness is to further this process by learning the meaning 
 of our social practice. 
 
 Summary In summary, we may say that the fundamental function of 
 
 consciousness is that of readjustment. Thus the speed, the 
 ease, the safety, and the possibilities of readjustment are to an 
 extraordinary degree improved. As subordinate principles, 
 we note that consciousness always results in movement, that 
 it never appears except when there is need for readjustment, 
 and that its problem is that of unraveling the plan that lies 
 behind our unconscious instincts and uncomprehended tradi- 
 tions in order to reform it. 
 
 SECTION 19. Habit and readjustment 
 
 The process of readjustment results in the establishment of 
 habits. We have already discussed 1 the physiological condi- 
 tions that give rise to the associations to which we apply this 
 name. Habit is due to specialized growth. A stimulating or 
 unsatisfactory condition leads to diffuse reactions. Those 
 that are unsatisfactory are inhibited and eliminated. If any 
 be satisfactory, the synapsis, or association of nerve fibers 
 through which it was brought about, receives a further supply 
 of nutrition. Thus it becomes a preferred association, while 
 others are permitted to atrophy. It is interesting to note 
 that both the experimental reactions and the strengthening of 
 
 1 Compare 5.
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 153 
 
 the preferred associations are the product of the inner powers 
 of the organism. Here, as everywhere, the general principle 
 that change, variation, growth, is from within, the environ- 
 ment simply acting as a stimulating or selective agency, is 
 illustrated. 
 
 As we have seen, the formation and strengthening of a habit Habit as fo- 
 illustrates ' the inertia of growth. 1 It involves specialization J^of 
 and the loss of a certain amount of flexibility. A result of flexibility 
 readjustment, it would seem to interfere with all readjustment 
 not along dependent lines of development. Every time an 
 experiment is converted into a habit a certain number of experi- 
 ments have been choked out, and are less likely to appear again. 
 The possibilities that have been tried and found wanting are, 
 when the satisfactory solution has been found, no longer as 
 they were at first, liquidated resources, but tied-up or, perhaps, 
 used-up capital. Constant inhibition has led to the abandon- 
 ment of some reactions ; others have been appropriated by 
 certain stimuli. The tendency to diffusion has been checked. 
 The movements of the body have become orderly and signifi- 
 cant, but its power to modify readily its methods of reaction 
 has suffered diminution. 
 
 On the other hand, it must not be supposed that this power 
 of readjusting is completely lost. One becomes less and less 
 likely to resort to any other than the habitual responses to a 
 certain emergency; that is, the amount of dissatisfaction neces- 
 sary in order that this preferred association may be broken up 
 and another substituted has been increased. Here, however, 
 another factor must be considered. It is that of consciousness. 
 Consciousness facilitates greatly, as we have seen, the forming 
 of habits. In the first place, as affective consciousness, its 
 degree of sensitivity is a measure of the intensity of stimula- 
 tion and the force of inhibition, and so of the activity of ex- 
 
 1 Compare 5.
 
 154 Principles of Education 
 
 Cognition as perimentation and the rapidity of selection. As cognitive 
 dectioi consciousness it reenforces inhibitions. When the impulse to 
 in the for- perform a previously inhibited act arises, memory adds an 
 habitT account of the results that followed it. This account 
 
 strengthens the felt repugnance to the act. 
 
 Experiment We may illustrate the manner in which consciousness assists 
 ti on lll u f s J3s in the formation of habits by the experiments of Professor 
 Thorndike on animals. 1 Many species were tested, especially 
 dogs, cats, and monkeys. One method employed was to place 
 food in a box the door to which was secured by a fastening that 
 could be released by pulling a string, pushing up a latch, or, 
 perhaps, simpler movements. The animal, left without nour- 
 ishment until it became quite hungry, was persistent in its 
 endeavors to get at the food. After much effort, largely of a 
 random character, a chance movement usually occurred by 
 which the door was opened and the food obtained. On a 
 second experiment, the same animal showed, as a rule, little 
 or no gain in the ability to single out the successful movement. 
 A long series of trials, however, reduced the time consumed 
 in random efforts, until finally they were all eliminated, and the 
 animal immediately performed the act by which the door was 
 opened. Thus it had learned the trick of getting into the box. 
 It is evident that the growth of a more intelligent conscious- 
 ness would facilitate this process. Keener feelings would 
 intensify the disappointment of failure, thus inhibiting and 
 eliminating more rapidly the unsuccessful movements. On 
 the other hand, unless it were supplemented by attention, that 
 singles out the different acts in order that failures may be 
 distinguished from successes and the proper feelings attached 
 to each, intensity of affective excitement would merely increase 
 the rage for experimental effort without directing it. This 
 sharpening of attention is, doubtless, the forerunner and the 
 1 Compare Animal Intelligence.
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 155 
 
 companion of cognition. We may speak of it as sensation, the 
 mere power to distinguish. Better memory converts it into 
 perception. The meaning of different parts of the box, and 
 of the efforts made to get into it by way of them, becomes 
 attached to the impulses to perform these acts. The animal 
 recognizes, as well as feels, the futility of some impulses and 
 the promise of others. Put briefly, it remembers in the 
 most rudimentary way how it got in, and also how it failed 
 to get in. Thus cognition reenforces affective consciousness 
 in hastening the act of learning. 
 
 Consciousness, therefore, aids in the formation of habits. 
 It assists learning by trial and error. This it does by further- 
 ing the process of selection. Cognitive consciousness is here 
 merely the servant of affective consciousness, the function of 
 which is, as we have seen, that of selection. But cognition has Cognition as 
 another and radically different function. It furnishes the of^read 3 - 
 material for ideational readjustment. Indeed, we may say justing in 
 that from the very beginning this function is apparent. In 
 reenforcing the inhibition of feeling, cognition works by antici- 
 pating the results of impulses, by giving them a meaning. 
 This meaning is a symbolic or ideational element. The rejec- 
 tion through its assistance of the impulse to which it is attached 
 is therefore ideational readjustment. This function is in the 
 case where cognition takes the primitive form of perception 
 concealed by the fact that each perception is dependent on the 
 actual presence of a stimulating sense object. Thus the im- 
 pulses associated with the perceptions come up in very much 
 the same order that they would if the perceptive recognition 
 of them were absent. Perception does not primarily increase 
 the number of impulses. It does not, therefore, add at once 
 to the resources of action, but simply facilitates the rejection 
 or the acceptance of the impulses that would have been sug- 
 gested by mere sensation. However, the character of these
 
 156 Principles of Education 
 
 Cognition as impulses is changed by the reading of meaning into them, 
 a saving of ^hus the way is opened for an addition to the action system, 
 for future This advance appears when a new situation is faced having 
 hence 1 ' " some of the elements of situations that have already been ex- 
 perienced. Here perception does yield suggestions to action 
 that would not come up without its assistance. If, for example, 
 after an animal has learned how to effect its entrance to a box, 
 the character of the fastening is changed, perception might 
 recognize this change, and so inhibit without trial the habitual 
 method of endeavoring to open the door. If much experience 
 in opening doors with various sorts of fastenings had been 
 gained, a new device partly resembling others would be less 
 apt to create difficulty. A method of attack promising suc- 
 cess might be initiated without a lot of preliminary more or 
 less random experimentation. Thus perception would repre- 
 sent experience, an actual expansion of the action system, 
 (i) serving It is evident that in its function of accumulating and recall- 
 and'remote m & experience, perception busies itself with a task the value 
 aim,_and o f which is, to say the least, somewhat indirect and remote. 
 The immediate aim of the process of learning is to get rid of 
 the wrong associations and to establish the right one. But 
 cognition, even in aiding in the process of selection by which 
 a habit is formed, is at the same time saving an account of the 
 impulses that are thus eliminated. By remembering it is 
 able to reject. Elimination is primarily, as it were, forgetful- 
 ness, but here we have elimination by recall. Consciousness 
 helps by remembering not only the successful reaction, which 
 alone is preserved by habit, but also the unsuccessful ones. 
 In short, it saves an account of the conditions and results of 
 experimentation, the sole use of which is to facilitate future 
 experimentation, rather than to strengthen existing tendencies. 
 It is of value to habit only in so far as a habit is not yet formed 
 or needs to be remodeled. Its recall of failures and alterna-
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 157 
 
 tives, of conditions and reasons, merely unsettles a habit that 
 is already established. 
 
 Thus, while, on the one hand, the formation of habits is 
 using up the resources, the flexibility of the organism, on the 
 other, the storing up of experience is increasing these resources. 
 Consciousness is, therefore, constantly aiding in the formation 
 of habits and also accumulating material for their reconstruc- 
 tion. It is a trite proposition that, while habits formed unin- 
 telligently may master us, those formed with consciousness are 
 ordinarily our servants. This does not refer, of course, to the 
 issue of strength of character as against mere knowledge of 
 consequences in the matter of the control of moral habits, but 
 rather to that of the power to apply one's habits accurately 
 and freely to the various emergencies of life. The growth of 
 cognition and of conscious memory means the growth of a 
 power to take account in a more and more delicate way of those 
 preliminary experiments that it is the business of habituation 
 to banish and forget. 
 
 While we are fixing our attention on the fact that experience 
 is engaged in the task of saving a description of the activities 
 that are eliminated in the formation of habits, we should not 
 utterly neglect the antithetical phase of the matter. The 
 experiences that are saved to be recalled tend themselves to 
 be selected or habitual ones. "Repetition is the mother of 
 studies," and this is true whether study concerns habits of 
 action or ways of thinking. The more sensitive the memory, 
 the less likely it is that events which are not repeated will be 
 lost, and the greater the amount of experience that will be saved 
 for the reconstruction of habits. However, even the most 
 sensitive memory finds, as we shall see, great need for selec- 
 tion, for preferential remembering and generous forgetfulness. 
 Some experiences are worth more in the emergencies of life 
 than others. Some contain essential principles that can be 
 
 (2) counter- 
 acting the 
 losses in- 
 volved in 
 habit form- 
 ing 
 
 Habit as con- 
 trolling 
 memory 
 and cogni- 
 tion 1 '
 
 158 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Habits of 
 action as 
 contribu- 
 tory to 
 readjust- ' 
 ment 
 
 used constantly ; others find application only occasionally, 
 or, perhaps, not at all. Others are easily and accurately put 
 into practice. The separation of the useful and the reliable 
 from the unimportant and the fallacious is the work of a process 
 of selection quite analogous to that by which habits are 
 formed. 
 
 Thus, while experience finds its function in the formation 
 and reconstruction of habits, and is a product of the power to 
 save that which is eliminated in ordinary learning by trial and 
 error, it is, on the other hand, itself an example of habit. We 
 have habits of thought as well as of action. Both are results 
 of selection, of elimination, of forgetfulness. But while the 
 primary function of the habit of action is to maintain an adjust- 
 ment, that of the habit of thought is to effect a readjustment. 
 
 We have spoken of habits of action as interfering with read- 
 justment except along dependent lines of development. It 
 should be noted that some such habits are, like some habits of 
 thought, more fundamental, more reliable than others. Such 
 habits will have, in consequence, many dependent lines of 
 development, and will be correspondingly useful in readjust- 
 ment. Thus, while the primary function of habit of action is 
 to maintain an adjustment, if it be a typical or fundamental 
 habit, it will need in order to meet new situations, not elimina- 
 tion, but rather reconstruction or recombination. A long and 
 severe process of selection is wont to leave an individual with 
 a set of habits that possesses to a marked degree this second- 
 ary function of cooperating in readjustment. Here selection 
 works in the individual, as it has through countless ages in the 
 race, to equip it with just that action system which will prove 
 not only most adapted to conditions that remain permanent, 
 but also most adjustable to those that change. Moreover, the 
 results of racial processes of selection get expressed both in the 
 hereditary equipment of the individual and in the habits formed
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 159 
 
 by imitation, for imitation hands on a social heredity that is 
 made up of patterns which have survived ages of selection. 
 
 To comprehend the use of habits of action in situations 
 other than those for which they were originally formed, we 
 must bear in mind the complicated nature of the stimuli to 
 which most reactions are made. It is natural to regard a 
 habit as a mechanical response to a simple stimulus. Such is 
 rarely the case. Indeed, it is not true to any extent even of 
 the reflexes, which, according to Professor Jennings, 1 depend 
 not only on the external stimulus, but also on the " physio- 
 logical state of the organism." A habit is, in the ordinary 
 sense of the term, a more or less complicated response to a set 
 of stimuli. Now the extent to which such a response can be 
 reconstructed depends upon the extent to which the factors in 
 both the stimuli and the response are susceptible of analysis 
 and of recombination in new associations. 
 
 The existence of a habit that is adjusted in part to a new 
 situation gives to its possessor a starting point for experimenta- 
 tion. To a dog, endeavoring in the experiments of Thorndike 
 to get into a box, the situation is not overwhelmingly new. 
 The box is an obstruction of an inanimate sort, and is to be 
 dealt with as such, and not as a living thing. In appearance 
 it is sufficiently frail to suggest the possibility of breaking it 
 open by pawing, gnawing, or what Mr. Hobhouse 2 calls 
 "scrabbling." These suggestions offer a basis from which 
 further experimentation may proceed with a fair prospect of 
 success. Of course, the dog cannot be supposed to be con- 
 scious of the fact that his first endeavors are prompted by 
 what is familiar in the situation. He acts without reflection, 
 but, nevertheless, with the handicap of a sufficient sense of 
 recognition of the emergency to replace what would otherwise 
 
 1 Compare Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 280 ; also 9. 
 1 Mind in Evolution,
 
 i6o 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 struction 
 of habits 
 
 be mere blind experiments by a fairly promising line of 
 effort. 
 
 Value of ex- The process of analysis and reorganization involved in the 
 the^reco advance from the preliminary tentative endeavors to a properly 
 adjusted movement may go on by the method of trial and 
 error. It is, however, greatly facilitated by experience in 
 reference to the habits that are employed. Such experience 
 enables a preliminary stage of reflection and ideational read- 
 justment before the first experiments are permitted. It also 
 constantly illuminates the subsequent experiments, thus has- 
 tening the progress toward a conclusion. A man, before 
 launching into a series of efforts to open a door with a strange 
 fastening, would carefully inspect it, and reflect upon what 
 method of attack would be likely to effect the desired entrance. 
 Moreover, his experience would cause each unsuccessful ex- 
 periment to teach him more than it would the brute. How- 
 ever, even in his reflection he tends to use habitual thought 
 rather than isolated or untested ideas as to the way things 
 may be done. 
 
 The complicated character of the situations which offer the 
 problem of readjustment to the higher animals and to man 
 makes it likely that at least some factors therein contained will 
 be familiar. This familiarity offers the opportunity for pre- 
 viously formed habits of action as well as for habits of thought 
 to aid in readjustment. Thus habits, if they be fundamental, 
 and especially if they be both fundamental and accompanied 
 by experience as to their use, are, so far from being a bar to 
 learning, the indispensable agency of its continuous progress. 
 
 The general relation between habit and readjustment may, 
 then, be stated as follows : Readjustment in the individual 
 means the formation of habits. This process establishes pref- 
 erential associations and eliminates the tendency toward dif- 
 fusion, thus destroying, as it were, the power of experimenta- 
 
 Summary
 
 The Conditions of Individual Development 161 
 
 tion on the basis of which the early capacity to learn is based. 
 Thus habits of action are a result of readjustment, and an ob- 
 stacle to future readjustment except along dependent lines of 
 development. However, the loss of flexibility that learning by 
 trial and error involves is in part, at least, made good by the 
 power of consciousness to retain experience in regard to the 
 rejected experiments. This experience becomes immediately 
 available in the process of experimentation, since it accom- 
 panies the recurrence of impulses to perform acts already found 
 unsuccessful, thus reenforcing by memory of their consequence 
 the felt tendency to inhibit them. Here cognitive consciousness 
 aids affective consciousness in its task of eliminating failures 
 and strengthening successes. When, however, new situations 
 appear, the experience gained by cognition offers sugges- 
 tions toward readjustment that are drawn from the unsuc- 
 cessful as well as the successful experiments. It thus enables 
 suggestions to action to appear which would otherwise have 
 been lost, surrounding them with a description of their condi- 
 tions and results that makes an ideational determination of 
 their availability possible. Thus, while habit strengthens 
 adjustment, cognitive consciousness everywhere exists to 
 further readjustment. 
 
 But while the function of cognition is to provide material 
 for the reconstruction of habits, the experience that it hands 
 on is itself subject to the same laws of selection as are habits 
 of action. We forget experience, just as we inhibit impulses. 
 There are habits of thought as well as of action. Indeed, the 
 relative availability of experience for purposes of readjustment 
 depends upon the excellence of the process of selection by which 
 it has been garnered. In this process the individual is aided 
 by imitation, through which his experience is led to be the same 
 as that of the race. Thus he inherits in his experience the re- 
 sults of ages of social evolution, as in his physical action sys-
 
 1 62 Principles of Education 
 
 tern he inherits the product of aeons of physiological develop- 
 ment. 
 
 Habits of action are an aid to readjustment along dependent 
 lines of development. New situations are seldom wholly new, 
 and in so far as they are familiar, the existing habits of the 
 individual may be and often are applied to them. In such ap- 
 plication they need reconstruction. This process may go on 
 by mere blind trial and error, but it is enormously aided by 
 experience in regard both to the use of the habits and to the 
 process of experimentation by which they were formed or 
 have been in part modified. This experience also makes it 
 more likely that a new situation will be recognized as offer- 
 ing the opportunity for the application of an old habit. In 
 general, therefore, experience everywhere plays about the 
 habits of the individual, saving and, indeed, enhancing his 
 flexibility by converting his very automatisms into capital for 
 progress.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 RECAPITULATION 
 
 SECTION 20. Various theories of recapitulation 
 
 IN discussing the hereditary basis of individual develop- 
 ment 1 mention was made of the fact of recapitulation. Onto- 
 genetic is parallel to phylogenetic development. The action 
 system of the individual tends to become available in the 
 same order in which it evolves in the history of the race. This 
 theory became current in the early part of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury. As a biological principle, it is associated with the no- 
 tion of evolution that then appeared, but it was merely a vague 
 general conception until it reached expression as a fact of em- 
 bryology, first in a suggestion of Agassiz, and later in a more 
 positive way by Von Baer and M tiller. 
 
 As the notion of recapitulation gradually became formu- TWO sorts of 
 lated, it attached itself to two opposing theories of human ^ pltl 
 nature and development. In a sense these two conceptions 
 were the descendants, the one of the theory of innate ideas and 
 the other of the view that all ideas are derived from experience. 
 Thus, according to the first conception, which we may call 
 that of psycho-physiological recapitulation, both the mental 
 and the physical powers of the individual expand, irrespective 
 of training, in the same order in which they develop in the 
 race. They and the manner of their growth are innate. Ac- 
 cording to the second conception, that of cultural recapitula- 
 ^16. 
 
 163
 
 164 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Rise of the 
 idea of psy- 
 cho-physio- 
 logical 
 recapitula- 
 tion 
 
 Reactionary 
 emphasis 
 on culture 
 and cul- 
 tural re- 
 capitula- 
 tion 
 
 tion, the natural order of presenting the experience, by which 
 alone a child's development can be obtained, is that of the ac- 
 quisition of this experience by the race. 
 
 The idea of psycho-physiological recapitulation is fore- 
 shadowed in the theories of Rousseau, in which, curiously 
 enough, we find a very pronounced empiricism, founded on 
 agreement with Locke, together with the conception of develop- 
 ment according to nature, which meant that a child left alone 
 to get his own education in a natural way would grow to the 
 full maturity of his powers by mere inner expansion. It is true 
 that Rousseau counted on the influence of a very simple nat- 
 ural environment, but after all it was the realization of what 
 God or Nature had planted in the child that to him constituted 
 the true goal of education. Froebel adopted this notion of 
 development from within, giving it a philosophical interpre- 
 tation, and declaring it to be an epitome of the evolution of 
 the race, thus stating quite clearly the notion of recapitulation. 
 Unlike Rousseau, he did not regard the formative culture of 
 society as an evil, but he agrees with that revolutionist in 
 placing all emphasis upon inner development. 
 
 Among other German thinkers of the period, however, there 
 was a very decided reaction against Rousseau's rejection of 
 social culture, the heritage of civilization. With them the 
 specific nature of the experience which constitutes the educa- 
 tion of the child becomes again of importance, if not, indeed, 
 the main consideration. In Lessing's Education of the Human 
 Race we find emphasized the notion that humanity has devel- 
 oped through stages of culture, each of which constitutes an 
 inevitable step in its education. It gets to the higher stages 
 only by living through the lower ones. Thus earlier forms of 
 culture that progress has rejected are, after all, indispensable 
 parts of God's scheme in raising us to our present civiliza- 
 tion, a civilization which is not, as Rousseau thought, man-
 
 Recapitulation 
 
 165 
 
 tion con- 
 ceived as a 
 logically 
 necessary 
 order of 
 growth 
 
 made and evil, but God-made, and one to which it is God's 
 plan that we should strive to adapt the child. Moreover, 
 just as the race could reach the higher altitudes only by trav- 
 ersing the intermediate ones, so the child must pass through 
 savagery and barbarism on the road to enlightenment. 
 
 Among the earlier exponents of the view, recapitulation was Recapitula- 
 thought of as a logical necessity rather than as a mere em- 
 pirical fact. Thus psycho-physiological recapitulation was 
 conceived to be a consequence of the laws of mental and bodily 
 development, which must, of course, operate in the race and 
 in the individual alike. Growth, whether of mind or body, 
 was regarded as a realization of the inner potentiality of the 
 soul or of the germ, a self-active process, governed by a law of 
 inner necessity. We have here merely a philosophical premo- 
 nition of the biological view of Von Baer and Miiller. From 
 the notion of a necessary order of development is deduced a 
 consequence that receives somewhat startling confirmation in 
 the discoveries of embryology. 
 
 The same necessity that Froebel saw in psycho-physiological 
 recapitulation Lessing found in cultural recapitulation, or re- 
 capitulation through education. It is thought that the process 
 of absorbing the culture of humanity must pass through cer- 
 tain necessary stages. This is not because the powers of the 
 individual expand in a certain way, but because the culture 
 material of one age constitutes the logical and necessary prep- 
 aration for that of the next in the order of progress. This 
 view is that suggested by Herbart in the ^Esthetic Revelation of 
 the World, and developed by Ziller into the Culture Epoch the- 
 ory. In this form it has played a familiar part in educational 
 theory and experiment both in Germany and in the United 
 States. 
 
 Up to a certain point the criticisms of the two theories of 
 recapitulation are alike. In so far as the order of development
 
 1 66 Principles of Education 
 
 The racial of the physical or mental powers is, as it were, necessary and 
 artiy in- inevitable, both racial evolution and individual development 
 evitabie must reveal this order, and hence correspond to each other, 
 accidental Similarly, wherever the culture of one epoch is an indispensable 
 prerequisite to comprehending the culture of later periods, 
 and ultimately of to-day, it must be given in the order of its 
 history, as an introduction to the life with which the child 
 will have to deal. On the other hand, it is certain that neither 
 biological nor social evolution reveals any logical perfection of 
 progress from antecedent to consequent conditions. Hence 
 the way is opened for individuals to vary from racial develop- 
 Exceptions ment. We might, then, expect, what as a matter of fact is 
 physiobgi- true, that the ontogenetic series should not perfectly reproduce 
 cai recapit- the phylogenetic one in either psycho-physiological or cultural 
 recapitulation. It is in the extent of the exceptions to recapitu- 
 lation and in the manner in which they are made that the main 
 difference between the two types is to be found. Concerning 
 these exceptions to psycho-physiological recapitulation, Mar- 
 shall, who makes much of the general fact, says : 
 
 "The history of development in different animals or groups 
 of animals offers to us, as we have seen, a series of ingenious, 
 determined, varied, but more_ or_les_juisu.ccessful ..efforts to 
 escape from the necessity of recapitulating, and to substitute 
 for the ancestral process a more direct method." 1 
 
 Hence, although the fact of recapitulation remains in general 
 true, there _is often a more direct method of reaching the goal 
 of development. Moreover, this more direct method has in 
 many cases been brought into existence. The most striking 
 modification of recapitulation is the development of infancy. 
 Here, of course, no adult stage of ancestral life is represented. 
 Moreover, the existence of infancy offers at once opportunity 
 and need for further variation in the recapitulatory series. 
 
 1 Biological Lectures and Addresses, "The Recapitulation Theory," p. 255.
 
 Recapitulation 167 
 
 The stage of reproduction is of necessity postponed until 
 maturity, thus coming after epochs that it antedated count- 
 less ages in the phylogenetic series. Associated with the be- 
 ginning of infancy is the development of food yolk in con- 
 nection with the ovum. This store of nourishment removes 
 the need of self-help on the part of the young, and so makes 
 possible immaturity. An earlier but less efficient maturity 
 is thus given up in exchange for a later more efficient one. 
 However, any tendency on the part of the protected and sup- 
 ported young to rush rapidly through the stages of develop- 
 ment receives the support of natural selection, for it relieves 
 the parent by so much of the burden of sustaining other life, 
 and thus increases the total efficiency of the stock. Hence 
 variations toward a more direct process of development than 
 that of recapitulation will be encouraged. Such variations 
 do appear. 
 
 "We are in some danger of assuming tacitly that the mode 
 of development of allied animals will necessarily agree in all 
 important respects, or even in details, and that if the develop- 
 ment of one member of a group be known, that of the others 
 may be assumed to be similar. The more recent progress of 
 embryology is showing us that such inferences are not safe, 
 and that in allied genera and species, or even in different 
 individuals of the same species, variations of development 
 may occur affecting important organs and at almost any stage 
 in their formation." 1 
 
 It is evident that recapitulation is an hereditary trait, de- Method of 
 pendent very largely upon the dynamic properties of the cell. 
 As such, it is liable to variation along with all other hereditary 
 traits. Such variations will, of course, be favored or repressed 
 by natural selection according as they benefit or injure the 
 stock. Under these conditions we might expect that the life 
 
 Ubid.
 
 1 68 Principles of Education 
 
 history of any individual to-day would represent inversions 
 and omissions of the phylogenetic series. These latter are very 
 appropriately called " short cuts" by Professor Baldwin. 1 On 
 the other hand, the ultimate result is not required to be perfect, 
 so long as it works in the conditions of life presented to-day. 
 Recapitulation may, therefore, be regarded as partly the sur- 
 vival of unnecessary but harmless hereditary tendencies, and 
 partly as the only method by which the mature form can be 
 developed. The historical order contains many accidental 
 stages, some of which may have been eliminated from individual 
 development, while others remain as rudimentary. However, 
 those stages that are indispensable to attaining the goal are 
 bound to remain, and to appear in the order of their evolution. 
 Recapitulation is an hereditary tendency more or less well 
 calculated to attain a certain result. This tendency remains 
 so long as no better way of attaining the same end chances 
 to appear and to replace it in the struggle for existence. 
 Need and If the tendency toward psycho-physiological recapitulation 
 
 modifying ^ oes not re P resent the only method of reaching the goal of 
 cultural re- maturity, but is subject to variation and selection, much more 
 tion can this be said of cultural recapitulation. For cultural re- 
 
 capitulation concerns social heredity, and this, as we have 
 seen, is largely made up of characters that are left to be thus 
 handed on in order that they may the more easily be dropped 
 out when the conditions of life to which they are fitted change. 
 To modify a tendency toward psycho-physiological recapitu- 
 lation, nature must have variations, and must eliminate those 
 who do not vary rightly. To modify a tendency toward cul- 
 tural recapitulation mankind has only to change the method of 
 education in such ways as are possible. As a matter of fact 
 the greater part of our cultural history could be left out of the 
 training of the individual without seriously impairing his effi- 
 1 Menial Development, Methods and Processes," Ch. I, 4.
 
 Recap itu la tion 169 
 
 ciency. Consequently much has been left out. Social he- 
 redity is a badly mutilated fragment of recapitulation. Nev- 
 ertheless, much unnecessary recapitulation doubtless remains, 
 because no substitutes have been invented, as the Chinese in 
 Lamb's celebrated "Essay on Roast Pig" continued to burn 
 down their houses in order to secure this prized viand, waiting 
 for chance to reveal a better way. 
 
 We may say then, in conclusion, that in so far as the Summary 
 phylogenetic series in biological or cultural evolution repre- 
 sents a necessary order of development the ontogenetic series 
 will reproduce it. Since, however, this necessary sequence is 
 by no means an universal characteristic of racial history, the 
 way is open for exceptions to recapitulation. The tendency 
 toward psycho-physiological recapitulation can be modified 
 only by the method of variation and selection that consti- 
 tutes the mode of progress for physiological heredity in gen- 
 eral. Nevertheless, it has been extensively modified, espe- 
 cially in connection with the rise of infancy, which has upset 
 considerably the tendency for the racial order of development 
 to appear in the individual. On the other hand, cultural 
 recapitulation is a matter of social heredity, and in so far as 
 it is not the inevitable order of apperceiving experience can 
 be readily modified as chance or reason may suggest. 
 
 SECTION 21. Psycho-physiological recapitulation and educa- 
 
 tion 
 
 The notion of psycho-physiological recapitulation has been TWO forms of 
 applied to education in two general forms. It has been held 
 
 to furnish the clew to the order in which are developed either psycho- 
 
 the faculties of the mind, on the one hand, or the instincts of cai recapit- 
 
 the individual, on the other. The general notion as to the u i atlo to 
 
 education 
 
 order of development of the faculties was not, however, origi-
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Rise of the 
 notion of 
 develop- 
 ment ac- 
 cording to 
 the fac- 
 ulties 
 
 Combination 
 of this 
 view with 
 that of 
 recapitula- 
 tion 
 
 nally an outcome of the theory that we are considering. It 
 antedated that theory, and, in consequence, has no necessary 
 connection therewith. Nevertheless, when the thought of 
 recapitulation became prominent, the older view based on 
 the so-called "faculty" theory of the mind was recognized as 
 in harmony with it. According to this view, all mental de- 
 velopment is thought to begin in sense observation, to be con- 
 tinued in imagination and memory, and to conclude in reason 
 and judgment. The theory became emphasized shortly after 
 the Renaissance, when science began to be differentiated from 
 metaphysics, and philosophy came to be approached from the 
 point of view of psychology. As a result of the one move- 
 ment, it was recognized that the purely speculative methods 
 of the schoolmen should give place to methods founded on ob- 
 servation. Observation becomes, therefore, the first step in 
 scientific progress. The second, or psychological, movement 
 emphasized the dependence of the content of the mind upon 
 the material furnished by the senses. There resulted in edu- 
 cation a realistic tendency, the essential features of which were 
 that it was thought that the subject matter of education should 
 consist largely of things and less of words, and that the initial 
 step in method should be an appeal to the senses. 
 
 No one can doubt the essential truth of these educational 
 principles. It will readily be seen that they can be made part 
 of a theory of recapitulation based on the analysis of mental 
 activity into faculties. The development of the theory ren- 
 dered inevitable this application, and we find it made by many 
 writers of the early nineteenth century. A typical statement 
 is that found in Rosenkranz's Philosophy of Education. 
 According to this writer the presentation of any subject may 
 be according to the logical order of its subject matter, or to 
 the psychological order of the development of the mental 
 powers. From the latter point of view, Rosenkranz divides
 
 Recap it u lation 1 7 1 
 
 the life of the child into an intuitive, an imaginative, and a Application 
 logical epoch. During the first of these periods the appeal view "to 
 should be to the senses. Later, imagination and memory are education 
 called into play, and the entire movement should culminate 
 in stirring up the logical processes. 
 
 In a general way, the view thus indicated is true enough, and criticism of 
 practical as applied to teaching. It needs, however, to be catbn PP 
 subjected to an amendment. It involves the assumption 
 that the faculties are distinct from each other, and that they 
 develop independently. The child, it is assumed, first ob- 
 serves without remembering or imagining to any great extent. 
 He thus develops a power of observation that may be used in 
 any field without reference to subject matter. Later other 
 powers appear, and as soon as one emerges a new form of 
 instruction becomes possible. It is absurd to reason with a 
 child who has not yet attained to the logical period, or to ex- 
 pect him to remember and imagine while he is still in the in- 
 tuitive age. Moreover, when once children have reached the 
 rational age, it is supposed that they will be logical on any sub- 
 ject. All these assumptions are faulty. As a matter of fact, 
 a child usually is in the intuitive epoch in respect to some sub- 
 jects and in the logical one as regards others. The analysis 
 of the mental processes does not, we now realize, mean the 
 discovery of independent faculties, but rather the revelation 
 of the forms through which any given content must pass as 
 the mind reflects upon it and utilizes it in new conditions. As 
 a guide to the method by which new material must be pre- 
 sented, the idea of a psychological order of development is of 
 great value. But as a clew to the way in which a subject must 
 be taught to a child of certain age, no matter what his previous 
 experience with that material may have been, it is, to say the 
 least, to be used with caution. Common sense, indeed, tells 
 us that we cannot expect from young children certain compli-
 
 172 Principles of Education 
 
 cated pieces of reasoning, based on comprehensive experience 
 and a large number of well-mastered concepts. Nevertheless, 
 it is astonishing what seemingly impossible feats such children 
 will perform, provided the ground is properly prepared. 
 Mathematical analysis impossible to untrained though intel- 
 ligent adults can be carried on by children in the primary 
 grades. 
 
 The faculty theory is so intimately connected with that of 
 formal discipline that applications of the former conception are 
 likely to involve the latter one as well. Since the notion of 
 formal discipline will be discussed in a separate chapter, 1 we 
 may here omit to consider it. As concerns the main issue, 
 that of recapitulation, we may say that in so far as the epochs 
 distinguished represent a necessary order in treating a subject 
 matter, they will be illustrated in the learning of that subject 
 matter either by the race or by the child. However, so far 
 as the apperceiving mind is concerned, an intuitive epoch for 
 one subject may be contemporaneous with a logical epoch for 
 another. 
 
 Recapituia- A more original and characteristic application of the idea 
 
 deveiop- the ^ P s y cn -phy s iological recapitulation is found when we apply 
 
 ment of it to the order of development of the instincts. All education 
 
 stincts must address itself to these, because all learning springs from 
 
 activity in the endeavor to satisfy instincts in situations with 
 
 The theory which our instinctive or habitual reactions fail to cope. Until 
 
 to the order certain instincts appear, the child would have no motive for 
 
 ^b-ert? acc l u i r i n g tne experience that naturally clusters about them. 
 
 should be The teacher, could, therefore postpone instruction along these 
 
 lines until the favorable period. Hence, if recapitulation holds 
 
 of the instincts, the teacher will get valuable information from 
 
 a study of the racial history. Thus he will be able to discover 
 
 the kind of material that will be likely successively to interest 
 
 1 Compare Ch. X.
 
 Recap itu la t 'ion 173 
 
 the child, and, since the order of apperception is the order of 
 interest, he will be able to present the content of culture in the 
 form most favorable to its ready assimilation. Moreover, if 
 complete cultural recapitulation is regarded as in great part 
 unnecessary, at any rate the instincts that should be developed 
 may, by consulting the order of the evolution of the culture 
 materials relating to them, be appealed to in the proper se- 
 quence and with appropriate subject matter. 
 
 The idea that instincts are transitory, and that there is a 
 favorable time for appealing to each, is well brought out by 
 Professor James. 
 
 "In all pedagogy the great thing is to strike the iron while James on 
 hot, and to seize the wave of each pupil's interest before the seeing the 
 ebb has come, so that knowledge may be got and a habit of mo ^ent" 
 skill acquired a headway of interest, in short, secured on in educa- 
 which afterward the individual may float. There is a happy tion 
 moment for fixing skill in drawing, for making boys collectors 
 in natural history, and presently dissectors and botanists ; 
 then for initiating them into the harmonies of mechanics and 
 the wonders of physical and chemical law. Later, intro- 
 spective psychology and the metaphysical and religious mys- 
 teries take their turn ; and last of all, the drama of human 
 affairs and worldly wisdom in the widest sense of the term." * 
 
 It is evident that the view here expressed does not involve 
 the notion that the instincts that are transitory in the indi- 
 vidual recur in the order of their appearance in race history. 
 The illustrations are, indeed, by no means calculated to jus- 
 tify such a view, except in a very general way. We may then 
 conclude that the idea of recapitulation finds its value in 
 merely suggesting an appropriate order of appealing to the 
 instincts and of presenting the culture materials, but that 
 the racial order must be verified in the development of the 
 
 1 Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, p. 401.
 
 174 Principles of Education 
 
 individual before it can be regarded as an accredited guide for 
 educational practice. 
 
 The theory The educational application of the idea of recapitulation 
 de according to the instincts becomes a more thoroughgoing 
 
 tereststhat affair with those who see in the development of these instincts, 
 cultivated not merely an agency of education in its endeavor to bring 
 about efficiency, but a goal at which education should aim 
 without regard to the specific utility of the result. Thinkers 
 of this sort believe that all instincts should be cultivated be- 
 cause they represent the order of nature in child growth, and 
 because through their development the child realizes his na- 
 ture. On this view many instincts, such as those associated 
 with fighting and fearing, which education ordinarily neglects 
 or represses, should be fed and given their fling. The con- 
 ception of recapitulation helps us to become aware of this 
 neglect in child culture, and the search of racial culture com- 
 bines with a more scientific child psychology to reveal many 
 interests that a supposedly imperfect educational system has 
 suffered to atrophy in the child. 
 
 This positive culture of all the stages and instincts in racial 
 history that incipiently appear in the development of the 
 child is advocated by President Hall, not merely as a means 
 of self-realization, but also as a measure of the wisest utility. 
 He says : 
 
 Hail on ai- "Rousseau would leave prepubescent years to nature and to 
 lowing the these primal hereditary impulsions and allow the hereditary 
 
 instincts j. -j. f A i'/TMi. i -!-> i i 11 
 
 "their ttaits of savagery their fling till twelve. Biological psychology 
 fling" finds many and cogent reasons to confirm this view, if only the 
 proper environment could be provided. The child revels in 
 savagery, and if its tribal, predatory, hunting, fishing, fighting, 
 roving, idle, playing proclivities could be indulged in the coun- 
 try, and under conditions that now, alas ! seem hopelessly 
 ideal, they could conceivably be so organized and directed as 
 to be far more truly humanistic and liberal than all that the
 
 Recap itu la tion 175 
 
 best modern school can provide. Rudimentary organs of the 
 soul now suppressed, perverted, or delayed, to crop out in 
 menacing forms later, would be developed in their season so 
 that we should be immune from them in maturer years, on the 
 principle of the Aristotelian Catharsis for which I have tried 
 to suggest a far broader application than the Stagirite could 
 see in his day. 
 
 "These nativistic and more or less feral instincts can and 
 should be fed and formed. The deep and strong cravings of 
 the individual to revive the ancestral experiences and occu- 
 pations of the race can and must be met, at least in a second- 
 hand and vicarious way, by tales of the heroic virtues the child 
 can appreciate, and these proxy experiences should make up 
 by variety and extent what they lack in intensity. The teacher 
 art should so vivify all that the resources of literature, tradi- 
 tion, history can supply which represents the crude and rank 
 virtues of the world's childhood, that with his almost visual 
 imagination reenforced by psychonomic recapitulatory im- 
 pulses the child can enter upon his full heritage, live out each 
 stage of his life to the fullest, and realize in himself all its mani- 
 fest tendencies. Echoes out of the vaster richer life of the 
 remote past they must remain, but just these are the mur- 
 murings of the only nurse that can save from the omnipresent 
 dangers of precocity. Thus we not only rescue from the 
 danger of loss, but utilize for further psychic growth, the results 
 of the higher heredity, which are the most precious and poten- 
 tial things on earth." x 
 
 This passage gives us an original and brilliant defense of Three reasons 
 the utility of encouraging all the instincts that the child's j^f^' 
 growth tends to recapitulate. It will be noticed that three capituia- 
 reasons are offered for this policy. In the first place, it is de- 
 clared that if these instincts are not cultivated at the time when 
 they naturally are strongest, their development is retarded, 
 and they are liable to appear later in perverted -forms. Sec- 
 ondly, the point is made that a child who is not allowed to 
 
 1 Adolescence, Preface, pp. x and xi.
 
 176 Principles of Education 
 
 revel in these instinctive occupations runs the risk of arrested 
 development from too early precocity. Finally, by means of 
 the rich fund of material thus developed, President Hall thinks 
 the life of the man is rendered many-sided, significant, and 
 resourceful. The fund of material for variation, both in the 
 individual and in the race, is enormously expanded. He 
 would have this education of the primitive instincts given in 
 the period from five to eight or nine. Thereafter, in his opin- 
 ion, a more coercive school training should be carried on, 
 which should follow to a great extent the methods of " old- 
 fashioned" schoolmasters. 
 
 (i) criticism The conception thus advanced is exceedingly suggestive. 
 tkarsis *" Presented with the enthusiasm and with the richness of illus- 
 theory tration that characterizes the author, it can prove convincing. 
 It is, however, not to be entertained without important res- 
 ervations. The view that all instincts that are not encour- 
 aged at the time when they are at floodtide are apt to mani- 
 fest themselves later in perverted forms is one that masses 
 together much truth and many false implications. There is 
 probably no instinct to which it applies so directly as it does 
 * to the sexual one, an instinct, by the way, that plays the 
 ' Hamlet role in President Hall's discussions. Now while there 
 can be little doubt as to the fact that the control of this in- 
 stinct demanded by civilization leads to many perversions, it 
 is certainly true that the consequences of feeding the instinct, 
 either by actual indulgence or vicariously by stimulating the 
 fancy, are far more dangerous both to the individual and to 
 society than the resolute effort to bring it under control by 
 the methods of antagonizing heredity that have been already 
 discussed. 1 Especially do we find effective the substitution of 
 ideal or romantic love. The tendency of advancing civiliza- 
 tion, while it may favor a certain frankness in such matters, 
 
 1 Compare u.
 
 Recapitulation 177 
 
 and may also avoid puritanical or monastic extremes, is ap- 
 parently constantly in the direction of more careful and effec- 
 tive control. When we consider such savage tendencies as the 
 predatory, the hunting, the fighting, the roving, the idle pro- 
 clivity, one wonders just what serious perversions are apt to 
 result from the failure properly to indulge them in childhood. 
 The idea of a catharsis of these instincts, while intensely inter- 
 esting as a general notion, does not seem to be so vitally im- 
 portant when we consider the dangers against which this sort 
 of vaccination is aimed. Indeed, perversion, or, at any rate, Perversion 
 degeneration, is far more likely to come from an over- indulgence * 
 
 in these tendencies, which so intensifies the interest in the life 
 they involve that the more humane, civilized, and ethical ten- 
 dencies have a difficult battle to displace them. Moreover, it 
 would seem that the infancy, or the immaturity, of these in- 
 stincts would find its value in that it enables us to suppress 
 or modify such relics of a mode of life no longer necessary or 
 desirable. 
 
 If a given instinct is to play an important part in the adult Conditions 
 life of the individual, neglect of it during the period of child- 
 
 n 
 
 hood when it becomes prominent will leave the individual so stincts 
 untrained that his later activities in reference to it may well encouraged 
 seem like perversions. To make a hunter, a tennis player, or 
 one with a graceful presence and readiness of resource in society, 
 the hunting, tennis playing, and social tendencies of the youth 
 must be cultivated. One who late in life takes up for the first 
 time sports involving physical skill, or attempts to play a 
 role in fashionable society after a youth and early manhood 
 spent in entirely different scenes, finds readjustment exceed- 
 ingly difficult, if not impossible. But awkwardness is not in it- 
 self perversion, although it makes one dissatisfied, and may lead 
 to morbidness. The adult who suddenly develops an interest 
 in activities normal to childhood, but neglected then, is bound
 
 1 78 Principles of Education 
 
 to appear ridiculous to the onlooker, because his interest is 
 childish and naive, rather than experienced and sophisticated. 
 However, for a man to play a child's part argues a lack of bal- 
 ance or of training, but not, as a rule, a perversion. 
 
 The important consideration is, after all, the positive one. 
 Instincts should be cultivated if they contribute to the resources 
 of life. If they do not do this, they should not be trained in 
 childhood merely for fear that otherwise peculiarities of nature 
 or of circumstances may lead them to appear in ridiculous 
 forms in adults. There is very little likelihood that they will 
 crop out in adult life unless they form the basis of a very im- 
 portant phase of the life of the normal man or woman. When 
 such is the case, the endeavor on the part of one who has hith- 
 erto neglected the aspect of life that they condition again to 
 resume his heritage will doubtless seem to the onlooker absurd 
 or pitiable. 
 
 (2) criticism The notion that to neglect the cultivation of the instincts 
 theor" 5 of ^ a cn i^ w ^ ^ ea ^ to too early maturity and, in consequence, 
 "arrested to arrested development, or improper maturation, is also one 
 ment" P ~ that st ^ rs enthusiasm as a striking generalization more easily 
 than it compels assent when it is subjected to the test of facts. 
 Causes of this It is both true and trite that when children are pushed too 
 rapidly along the lines of old-fashioned school discipline, they 
 run the risk of a loss of health which may involve arrested 
 development. It is also true that when children are driven 
 to do work in which they have as yet no instinctive interest, 
 or for undertaking which they have no adequate basis of expe- 
 rience, they are likely to acquire a distaste for it which may 
 seriously impair their chance of later success in this field. 
 Moreover, many facts conspire to show that when children 
 are compelled to get their living at an early age, and so to ac- 
 quire what corresponds to an adult adjustment at a time when 
 they do not possess an adult's experience or mental and physi-
 
 Recap itu la lion 179 
 
 cal vigor, there is danger that they may never get beyond the 
 habits thus prematurely ingrained. The child bootblack be- 
 comes the man bootblack. Here habit and specialization may 
 constitute in a peculiar degree a bar to progress, because it 
 prevents the acquisition of a fund of experience and of apti- 
 tudes by which readjustment is rendered possible or easy. 
 
 It is interesting to note that here what may be called the pri- Conflict pi 
 mary function of infancy comes a little in conflict with a sec- mary'and 
 ondary one. The primary function of infancy is not so much 
 to ward off maturity as it is to offer the child a chance to 
 develop the habits best suited to its environment without the 
 interference of hereditary characteristics ill-adapted to the pres- 
 ent conditions. But if the child acquires a mature adjustment 
 too early, it will encounter, when readjustment becomes desir- 
 able, the same difficulties that would have existed had it in- 
 herited acquired characters. Early maturity, whether in 
 individuals or races, usually goes with a low average intelligence 
 and set modes of life. This, if not quite so true of an early 
 maturity that results from training as it is of one that is hered- 
 itary, holds, nevertheless, of both. The bread-winning occu- 
 pations of which a child is capable are of necessity far more 
 limited and in a sense more specialized than those that an adult 
 can carry on. Early specialization does not promote later 
 progress except along the lines of the specialty. Such early 
 maturity is a danger, because it prevents the child from ac- 
 quiring his proper equipment of experience. It is bad because 
 of what it crowds out. It is bad because it means an adjust- 
 ment that for the time contents, and this contentment by con- 
 tinuing is apt to deprive the individual of any incentive for 
 betterment, until the age of readjustment is past. In man 
 the infancy, that exists primarily that each generation may 
 have a freedom to obtain the adjustment peculiar to its con- 
 ditions of life, comes to have the secondary function of afford-
 
 i8o 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Complete 
 recapitula- 
 tion not 
 necessary 
 to prevent 
 arrested 
 develop- 
 ment 
 
 (3) Criticism 
 of the 
 theory of 
 provision 
 for varia- 
 tion 
 
 ing an opportunity for acquiring, not so much specific mature 
 adjustments, as rather a resourceful action system of habits 
 and experience that shall constitute the capital for all later 
 readjustment. 
 
 We may then agree with President Hall that child education 
 should avoid premature specialization; that is, specializa- 
 tion that is likely to be a bar to readjustment or to the accu- 
 mulation of resources for readjustment. We can further sub- 
 scribe to the view that it is in deep plowing of the soil of the 
 instincts that we get the best preparation for broad interests 
 and resourceful intelligence in the emergencies of life. But 
 this does not require that education should encourage tenden- 
 cies that the race has outlived, or interests that play no part 
 in adult life. Many children love to tease and bully. This 
 is a relic of the primitive instinct of leadership, an instinct 
 still very useful, but not to be cultivated by encouraging the 
 cruder acts to which it prompts. The hunting instinct will 
 very likely before many centuries cease to serve any useful 
 educational purpose. Fighting and the predatory instinct 
 are not to be indulged simply because such a course may pre- 
 vent premature maturation. 
 
 When we get away from the negations of the idea that we 
 should cultivate the instincts for the sake of catharsis or of 
 avoiding prematuration, and enter the region of affirmations, 
 we reach President Hall's third point. It is, he thinks, by 
 cultivating the instincts that material for variation, both in 
 the child and in the race, is to be developed. The idea that 
 the race is to be improved in this manner begs the question 
 in favor of the inheritance of acquired characters, but there 
 can be no doubt that an education that aims to equip the 
 individual with power of readjustment must select those inter- 
 ests that are organic in the social life of to-day, and cultivate 
 them in a free and comprehensive way. This does not mean,
 
 Recapitu lation 1 8 1 
 
 however, that much that children may or must like is not to 
 be kept in innocuous slumber. Education everywhere vali- 
 dates its work by reference rather to the needs of life to-day 
 than to the inherited tendencies of the child. The cultivation 
 of the instincts, even when it is providing for readjustment, 
 should be a selective rather than a promiscuous process. 
 Social heredity exists to supplement, direct, modify, or even to 
 suppress physiological heredity, and not merely to promote 
 the course of nature. 
 
 In summary, we may note that the conception of psycho- Summary 
 physiological recapitulation has been applied to education in 
 two forms: first, as indicating the order of development of 
 the faculties, which it is supposed to be the business of edu- 
 cation to cultivate, and second, as pointing out the time of 
 appearance of the instincts, to which education must appeal, 
 if it is not to lack motive and so fail of effect. The idea that 
 the faculties develop in a certain order appeared in education 
 before the idea of recapitulation, but when the latter notion 
 was advanced, it was used to support the former. According 
 to the resulting view the age of the child will determine the 
 method by which any subject should be presented to him. 
 This notion is faulty because a faculty means the power of 
 dealing with specific material in a certain way, a power 
 which depends quite as much upon the child's previous expe- 
 rience and training in the given subject matter as it does upon 
 his age. Thus children may be in the intuitive epoch in regard 
 to some subjects, and in the logical one in respect to others. 
 Little children can reason within limits, and older ones need 
 to have their powers of observation appealed to. In fact, 
 observation, memory, and reason are intimately interrelated, 
 and it would be true to say that reason helps memory and power 
 to observe quite as much as it is helped by them. The treat- 
 ment of any topic will, in general, involve the exercise of the
 
 1 82 Principles of Education 
 
 faculties in the order of recapitulation, but further than this 
 the conception in question does not apply. 
 
 The study of racial history proves more useful to the teacher 
 in revealing the instincts to which he must appeal and the or- 
 der of their appearance. It shows him many useful instincts 
 which he might otherwise have neglected, puts him on the 
 alert for their appearance at certain times, and suggests cul- 
 ture material that can be utilized in stimulating them. It 
 helps to reveal the time at which certain valuable subjects 
 can best be presented. When, however, it is urged that all 
 the racial instincts that tend to reappear in the development 
 of the child should be cultivated, our fundamental conception 
 that in man physiological heredity is largely of such a character 
 as not to determine the specific lines of education, but rather 
 to offer the materials from which education can select the 
 definite adjustments needed at the time, should be applied. 
 Accordingly, we may conclude that many instincts should be 
 neglected or suppressed. However, the life of man to-day is 
 so full of the need for readjustment that the education of the 
 child becomes of necessity more an accumulation of resources 
 for this purpose and less the acquisition of specific adjustments. 
 It follows that education must exercise great care lest instinc- 
 tive tendencies and culture material that may prove useful 
 are not suppressed or neglected because that use cannot be 
 definitely foreseen. In general, a broad cultivation of what 
 nature has given the child for the sake of readjustment is a 
 good preparation to make an adaptable man. Nevertheless, 
 the problem of selection cannot be dodged by the teacher, nor 
 the issue of progress settled by an appeal to the blind forces 
 that come up to us out of the past.
 
 Recapitulation 183 
 
 SECTION 22. Cultural recapitulation 
 
 That our education carries us through stages that have Culture as re- 
 constituted epochs in the history of social progress is a much ^ ltula " 
 more evident fact than that of biological evolution. As soon 
 as one reflects even superficially on the process of education, 
 he is impressed with the fact that it consists very largely in 
 bringing the child up to the standard adjustment of the adult. 
 When we add to the consciousness of this fact the historical 
 knowledge that enables one to understand that human history 
 has been one of progress rather than of degeneration, it is in- 
 evitable that the parallel between the educational development 
 of the child and the gradual evolution of higher adjustments 
 and standards in the race should be quickly recognized. 
 
 Mention has already been made of the general notions of 
 Lessing on what he called The Education of the Human Race. 
 These ideas were further developed by Herder in his Ideas for 
 a Philosophy of History. We find them receiving educational 
 application by Herbart in the following words, which consti- 
 tute the suggestion of the culture-epoch theory, later elaborated 
 by Ziller: 
 
 "It would be somewhat difficult to state the starting point Herbart on 
 of progressive sympathy and to justify the statement. Closer *? c " lture 
 consideration shows that this point cannot lie in the actual the child 
 present. The child's sphere is too narrow, and traversed too 
 soon, the adult's sphere among cultivated people too high and 
 too much determined by relationships which we would not 
 explain to the little boy if we could. But the true successions 
 of history end in the present, and in the beginnings of our 
 culture among the Greeks an illuminated spot for the whole 
 of posterity is formed by the classical representations of an 
 ideal boyhood in the Homeric poems." 1 
 
 1 ^Esthetic Revelation of the World (Felkin's translation).
 
 1 84 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Ziller on 
 culture 
 epochs 
 and con- 
 centration 
 
 The order of 
 cultural 
 history as 
 the order 
 of apper- 
 ception 
 
 This notion that we must go to simpler social conditions 
 and, indeed, to those that constitute the beginnings of culture 
 to find the sort of experience with which the education of the 
 child's sympathies should begin is elaborated by Ziller into the 
 culture-epoch theory. Not only does Ziller suppose that there 
 is a series of stages in racial history that furnishes the materials 
 which are successively most appropriate for the culture of the 
 child's social nature, but by the use of the theory of concentra- 
 tion he was able to outline a scheme for the organization of 
 the study of physical nature on a similar basis. Assuming 
 with Herbart that moral character is the aim in education, 
 and that this expresses itself in the social relations of life, he 
 succeeded in concentrating all the studies of the school about 
 the humanities, and especially history. Mathematics, natural 
 science, grammar, and logic, according to this scheme, are 
 taken up in order to further the comprehension of the culture 
 of the epochs that the sequences of history present. 
 
 It is important to bear in mind that with the Herbartians 
 the fundamental justification of the arrangement of study 
 according to the culture epochs lay in their view that this order 
 is that of proper apperception. The ideas and customs of one 
 age constitute in their view the natural introduction to those 
 of the next. This is the inevitable order of the development 
 of the material of social heredity. It is not a question of suit- 
 ing the instincts as they come into activity, but rather of 
 logical arrangement of the content of education so that it 
 proceeds properly from the old to the new, from the simple 
 to the complex, from the near to the remote. The order of 
 cultural history is supposed to be the order of apperception. 
 
 If, then, any one of the earlier phases of culture is unneces- 
 sary as an introduction to the life of to-day, it may be omitted 
 in the education of the child. We may suppose that there 
 are many such exceptions. Invoking our principle that social
 
 Recap itu lation 
 
 185 
 
 heredity consists in great measure of adaptations to variable 
 and so temporary conditions, we may well believe that any 
 resolute attempt to recapitulate racial epochs would lead not 
 along a highway of continuous progress, but rather into a 
 succession of blind alleys. This difficulty becomes evident 
 when we study specifically the results of Ziller's plan. 
 
 First of all, this plan makes the treatment of subjects out- 
 side of history and literature difficult. To lead the child 
 through the study of the scientific conceptions of earlier periods 
 in human history is a laborious and to a considerable extent 
 an unnecessary task. The history of science, as contrasted 
 with the study of science itself, presents the curious and the 
 abandoned elements of culture, rather than those that are 
 valuable to-day, and while this subject has a place, it is rather 
 at the end than at the beginning of scientific training. Again, 
 the attempt to teach science as a means of comprehending past 
 culture means to run the risk of leaving out much that is very 
 important for the comprehension of modern life and the devel- 
 opment of efficiency. Finally, the endeavor to drag in all the 
 other studies at the heels of a study of history involves an almost 
 unavoidable awkwardness of treatment. Phases of history 
 that have little value from the historic or humanitarian point 
 of view must be emphasized in order to furnish a basis for study- 
 ing indispensable parts of science. It seems impossible to pro- 
 vide for concentration in any but a most artificial way without 
 transcending the possibilities of the ordinary school in both 
 the extent and the difficulty of the program thereby involved. 
 
 These objections to Ziller's plan of concentration are, it is 
 true, partly the result of his notion of the aim of education 
 rather than of the culture-epoch idea itself. If education aims 
 at moral character alone, and does not expand this conception 
 so that it becomes efficiency in all respects, industrial as well 
 as social, it is evident that the humanities are far more impor- 
 
 The culture- 
 epoch 
 theory in- 
 applicable 
 to the 
 teaching 
 of science 
 and mathe- 
 matics 
 
 Difficulties 
 due to con- 
 centration 
 about the 
 humanities
 
 1 86 Principles of Education 
 
 tant elements of culture than science. Indeed, they are the 
 proper core of the curriculum. But the development of the 
 more modern aim of preparation for complete living makes it 
 necessary that we should lay great stress on aspects of culture 
 that do not find their sole aim in that they contribute to social 
 tact or capacity for social control, but instead function in rela- 
 tion to the arts and crafts, and to those professions that involve 
 expert knowledge of the laws of nature. Constantly increasing 
 emphasis, especially in elementary education, on that phase of 
 instruction that is least amenable to treatment on the basis of 
 the principle of recapitulation has caused that idea to fall into 
 neglect as a basis for the organization of prevailing courses of 
 study. 
 
 DeGarmo's To avoid the difficulty here involved, Professor De Garmo 
 co6rdina f ^ as P r P se( l what he calls a scheme of coordination. 1 He 
 tion. Re- would have three groups of closely interrelated subjects: the 
 lion h^the humanistic, where the ethical element is dominant and the 
 
 humanistic [faa, of recapitulation applies ; the scientific, where, of course, 
 the ethical element is absent and the culture-epoch idea has 
 little or no place ; and the economic studies. The function 
 of the last is, he conceives, to connect the ideal results of hu- 
 manistic study with the instrumentalities for realizing these 
 ideals that are revealed by a study of nature. In such a group, 
 geography, or the study of the earth in its relation to man, is 
 central. 
 
 Dewey's The scheme of concentration suggested by Professor Dewey 2 
 
 centra- attem P ts to make the social life of the child the core of the 
 tion about curriculum. This life gives rise to certain interests and prob- 
 life of the l em s. It is supposed that in the endeavor to satisfy the one 
 school. an d to settle the other the child may be led to reach out into all 
 
 Its use of 
 
 recapitula- departments of knowledge that mankind has so far accumu- 
 
 tion 
 
 1 Herbart and the Herbartians, Part III, Ch. IV. 
 
 2 The School and Society.
 
 Recap itu la tion 
 
 lated, and to avail himself of all the instrumentalities for re- 
 search that have been discovered. On such a scheme, it is 
 evident that the development of the social problems in the 
 society of the school would naturally follow to some extent the 
 history of these problems in the evolution of human society. 
 However, as the school life is brought in contact with modern 
 adult conditions at a variety of points, it is evident that the 
 extent of recapitulation will be limited to such issues as are 
 inevitable, and must be met before the child can appreciate 
 and so come face to face with the emergencies of the present 
 day. Everywhere the ultimate aim of efficiency must exert 
 its selective power, abbreviating, modifying, and rearranging 
 the problems that have come up to us out of the past. 
 
 Thus, even though Professor Dewey's scheme of concentra- The cuiture- 
 tion is one that effectively brings science into unity with the 
 humanities, and also offers a chance for recapitulation to play 
 a part in reference to the central element of the scheme, this 
 principle must of necessity be only a mere skeleton of arrange- 
 ment, notable especially for the number of exceptions to it. 
 If science balks at being presented in the racial order, even the 
 humanities dodge, whenever possible, the influence of this prin- 
 ciple of control. The conditions that demand a deviation from 
 the plan of cultural recapitulation are well stated by Lange. 1 
 He points out the impossibility of recreating except in a selec- 
 tive way the cultural conditions of early peoples. They con- 
 stitute adult conditions difficult even for the scientifically 
 trained mind to comprehend from the point of view of those 
 who actually dwelt in their midst. The child can absorb and 
 sympathize with such phases of early culture as fit in with the 
 social conceptions that he is taking in day by day from his 
 modern environment. He sees antique civilization through 
 spectacles that reveal only the colors of the glasses themselves, 
 
 1 Apperception (De Garmo's translation), pp. 110-151. 
 
 epoch 
 scheme not 
 literally 
 applicable 
 even to the 
 humanities
 
 1 88 Principles of Education 
 
 colors derived from the living conditions of to-day. He 
 idealizes and glosses over the deeds of ancient men. Lange 
 emphasizes the view that an elaborate subdivision of the course 
 of study according to culture epochs is artificial and undesir- 
 able, and the fact that much that has been prominent in the 
 history of culture would be positively detrimental to the child. 
 In general he says : 
 
 "In choice of matter from the historical point of view we 
 discover all that is justifiable in Ziller's theory of culture 
 epochs." 
 
 Summary In summary, we may say that the idea of cultural recapitu- 
 
 lation has been emphasized by the Herbartians especially. 
 To them it constitutes the order of apperception of the culture 
 material that the child should absorb. By employing a scheme 
 of concentration the core of which was history, a subject easily 
 treated according to culture epochs, Ziller succeeded in apply- 
 ing this principle in a thoroughgoing way to the curriculum. 
 However, the order of evolution of social heredity is by no 
 means an order that must or should be followed blindly in 
 the education of the child. What is thus handed on is trans- 
 mitted by this agency in order that it may be modified when 
 need arises for so doing. Cultural recapitulation is not in 
 many respects the necessary order of apperception in intro- 
 ducing present culture, and much that it would teach should 
 be left out of education to-day. These difficulties appear 
 especially when it is applied to science, which according to 
 Ziller's scheme was subordinated to the humanities. Professor 
 De Garmo separates science from the humanities and treats 
 the latter in a measure by the plan of recapitulation. 
 Professor Dewey suggests the problems that arise in the social 
 life of the school as the proper core for a scheme of concentra- 
 tion. These problems come up to some extent in the order of
 
 Recapitulation 189 
 
 recapitulation, and they lead into the study of science and 
 industry better than the historical study of Ziller's scheme. 
 However, many historical problems will not arise in a school 
 society of to-day, and the order of appearance of such as do 
 will deviate widely from that of their rise in social evolution.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Learning as a 
 process of 
 inner re- 
 organiza- 
 tion 
 
 Replacement 
 of outer by 
 inner selec- 
 tion 
 
 LEARNING BY TRIAL AND ERROR 
 
 SECTION 23. General notion of learning 
 
 THE general analysis of the process of learning has already 
 been given. 1 We have seen that it is based upon a resourceful 
 action system, a variety of wants, sensitivity to lack of adjust- 
 ment, and the power to utilize resources in experimentation. 
 These factors all have an hereditary basis. Learning is, there- 
 fore, characteristically a process going on within the organism. 
 It is essentially a matter of inner reorganization, for which 
 environmental conditions furnish the stimulus. These ex- 
 ternal forces do not determine what shall be learned. They 
 merely insist that something be learned that will enable the 
 organism to deal with them successfully, the alternative, 
 of course, being elimination. Such outer guidance of the learn- 
 ing process is at best merely passive. The positive effort and 
 the specific devices of readjustment all spring from within. 
 The nature of these devices is determined by the nature of the 
 learning organism, and not at all by the nature of the environ- 
 ment, which everywhere confines itself to the role of approving 
 or rejecting overt results. 
 
 We have seen that even the selective function of the environ- 
 ment has been absorbed by the organism which is able to learn. 
 The environment selects by destroying the individual that 
 reacts to it wrongly. The individual learns by eliminating 
 the faulty reaction before the environment has completed its 
 
 Compare 9, 17, 18, 19. 
 190
 
 Learning by Trial and Error 191 
 
 work of selection by eliminating the individual who makes 
 such a reaction. This power of anticipating and forestalling 
 the selective activity of the environment is that sensitivity 
 which was mentioned as the third of the factors involved in 
 power to learn. It has further been characterized as affective 
 consciousness. Disagreeable affective consciousness symbol- 
 izes the destructive effect of persisting in present courses. It 
 is symbolic, individual selection that anticipates and so re- 
 places natural selection. 
 
 Learning means, then, the power to profit by results. It Learning as a 
 means the power to readjust by making experimental reactions, 
 and preserving the one that proves most successful, or, to state by results, 
 more literally the fact, the one that is least a failure. Failure "M ^ io * n ~ 
 is, indeed, always symbolic. Feeling does not permit the ulti- of results 
 mate result of experimentation to be realized, otherwise there 
 would be no learning for the individual, but merely destruc- 
 tion. Natural selection improves the race, but it cannot 
 teach the individual. However, even if feeling stops experi- 
 mentation before it has gone to the bitter end, we may yet 
 speak of it as a result. Hence learning, which is the power of 
 continuing to do the things that feel most satisfactory, is a 
 process of profiting by results. 
 
 There is one phase of individual readjustment that has by Accustoming 
 some been thought not to be learning because it seems to lack 
 this character. It is .accustoming, or acclimation. Here ceived as 
 conditions that were at first unsatisfactory, possibly even 
 dangerous to life, come to be endurable or even innocuous, 
 apparently not because of any positive reaction that wards 
 off the attack of these conditions, but rather because of a pas- 
 sive change on the part of the organism that leaves it no longer 
 susceptible to their influence. One naturally supposes that 
 the body of the organism is subjected to physical or chemical 
 changes that are the direct effect of the stimulus. The assump-
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Method of 
 explaining 
 accustom- 
 ing as 
 learning 
 
 tion is that, if these changes go on slowly, they do not destroy 
 life. Thus by a slow process one may attain safely a physio- 
 logical condition that could not have been reached swiftly. An 
 organism may by gradual modification come to endure safely 
 extremes of heat or of cold, of darkness, of rarefaction or con- 
 densation of the air. If the degree of salinity in the water in 
 which they live is increased by small increments, animals and 
 plants may become inured to an amount of change that, if 
 brought about suddenly, would destroy life. Thus we may 
 accustom ourselves to eat substances at first injurious or even 
 poisonous. The system comes to tolerate, indeed, to thrive 
 upon them. We become immune to the toxins of various 
 diseases. In the psychical realm, sights, sounds, touches, 
 tastes, smells, and even pains, at first extremely irritating, may 
 come to be utterly neglected or even pleasant, especially if the 
 process of accustoming be gradual. 
 
 Mr. Hobhouse regards accustoming as a type of readjust- 
 ment that is clearly distinct from learning. 
 
 "When after a certain experience the organism adapts itself 
 better to a certain sort of stimulus, it has undoubtedly been 
 modified by its experience, but it has not necessarily learnt 
 anything by experience of results." 1 
 
 It is possible, however, that accustoming may represent 
 genuine learning. Professor Jennings, 2 making use of an idea 
 derived from Ostwald, suggests that we may explain this process 
 as one of selection from among a variety of chemical changes 
 that are stimulated by variations in temperature, by poisons, 
 etc. That change survives which makes possible the continu- 
 ance of life by counteracting the dangerous katabolism set up 
 by the unaccustomed conditions. In that event, we have an 
 illustration of learning by trial and error. The variety of 
 
 1 Mind in Evolution, p. 82. 2 Behavior of the Lower Organisms, p. 346.
 
 Learning by Trial and Error 
 
 193 
 
 chemical changes may be regarded as experiments toward 
 readjustment, and that reaction which nullifies the dangerous 
 effect of the stimulus becomes chronic, or habitual, the others 
 disappearing by inhibition. 
 
 Such an analysis, it will be observed, requires that we should 
 identify in actual cases of accustoming the presence not only 
 of experimental chemical reactions, but also of a process of 
 symbolic, individual selection, like that which constitutes the 
 function of affective consciousness. It is in reference to the 
 last point that the theory is most apt to rouse incredulity. 
 Yet if accustoming does not involve this sort of selection, it 
 cannot be called profiting by results or learning. The indi- 
 vidual must have the power of inhibiting the useless or danger- 
 ous experiments and nourishing the successful one, or there 
 would never be on his part any growth of ability to endure the 
 changed condition. Instead of becoming acclimated, he would 
 be destroyed. 
 
 It would seem likely that accustoming represents, not a Accustoming 
 process of experimental reactions and selection completed in redttary 6 
 the individual, but rather a fixed hereditary reaction to changes adjustment 
 in the conditions of life that are sufficiently common to make 
 an inherited mode of adjustment to them desirable or even 
 necessary. In that event, the power to become inured to a 
 certain environmental change would be, not the power of 
 making experimental reactions, but rather that of immediately 
 setting up the right one so that in time the situation will be 
 met. Natural selection would have eliminated all who failed 
 to develop or to inherit the power to make this fitting adjust- 
 ment. The experiments would have been individuals, each 
 having a tendency to respond somewhat differently to the 
 irritating conditions. Nature would destroy all that failed to 
 react in such a way as to become accustomed. 
 
 However this may be, the suggested explanation of accustom-
 
 194 Principles of Education 
 
 Summary ing as a genuine case of learning may serve our purposes in 
 two ways: It reveals clearly the essential elements involved 
 in learning, and it emphasizes the fact that all adjustments, 
 even those of a process apparently so mechanical as that of 
 acclimation, are the peculiar internal reactions of the organism, 
 and not the mere passive effect of external conditions. Learn- 
 ing, then, must involve first the power to make such character- 
 istic internal reactions, not simply as adjustments definitely 
 assigned by heredity to specific changes in the conditions of life, 
 but rather as mere experiments toward readjustment ; and 
 second, the capacity to profit from the results of this experi- 
 mentation by selecting out the successful reaction, and thus 
 forestalling the destruction of the individual. Affective con- 
 sciousness, or something in function analogous to it, must be 
 operative. 
 
 SECTION 24. The evolution of feeling 
 
 Three condi- Affective consciousness, or feeling, means, as we have seen, 
 agreeable 3 " an mtema l agency for selection. Through it we substitute 
 feeling: for natural selection symbolic, individual selection. Thus 
 learning, or profiting by results, becomes possible to the indi- 
 vidual. It is true, in feeling we do not have the ultimate out- 
 come of the experiment in reality. But we have this ultimate 
 result symbolized in terms that to the inner life of the individ- 
 ual seem quite as important as the destruction or the preserva- 
 tion of life that they signify. In the course of its evolution, 
 feeling may be said to attach to three main conditions. Each 
 condition gives rise either to agreeable or to disagreeable feel- 
 ing, according to circumstances that are, of course, directly 
 
 (i) danger- opposed to each other. The primary condition of disagreeable 
 feeling is the existence in the body of dangerous katabolism; 
 that is, katabolism that threatens, if continued, seriously 
 to injure vitality, or indeed, to destroy life. Agreeable feeling
 
 Learning by Trial and Error 
 
 195 
 
 is here a consequence of the checking or reversal of such de- 
 structive processes. The second type of disagreeable feeling 
 is that roused, not by the actual existence of dangerous katab- 
 olism, but rather by the presence of impulses which, if carried 
 out, will more or less remotely lead to such a condition. This 
 sort of feeling inhibits a wasteful or injurious impulse before 
 the doing of the harm has begun. Corresponding to it we have 
 the pleasure that sanctions an impulse beneficial in its outcome. 
 Feeling, always anticipative of results, is in gaining this second 
 condition enabled to predict them when they are remote. 
 The third condition of disagreeable feeling is the presence of con- 
 flicting impulses to action. The restoration of harmony hi the 
 inner life would here, of course, be a condition of agreeable feeling. 
 
 The second type of feeling rises out of the first by the growth 
 of sensitivity to symbolic conditions, and by the determina- 
 tion of the feeling thus involved through the feeling character- 
 istic of the condition symbolized or anticipated. Stimuli, not 
 in themselves harmful, are yet indicative of the approach of 
 harmful conditions, if these be not warded off. Hence, by 
 association, the apprehension of these symbolic conditions 
 become suffused with the quality of feeling that would ensue 
 were the significances realized. If an organism requires a 
 certain amount of light to carry on its vital processes, the 
 appearance of a shadow in its locality will be an irritating stim- 
 ulus, giving rise to feeling of the first type, and thus rousing a 
 negative reaction. But when an individual upon which the 
 diminution in quantity of light produces no vital effect reacts to 
 a shadow, it is doubtless because of what the shadow means 
 rather than of what it is. It means, for example, the approach 
 of an enemy, and the organism simply transfers to the appre- 
 hension of the shadow the feeling associated with the injuries 
 that this hostile creature is liable to inflict. 
 
 Professor Jennings explains this reaction to representative 
 
 (2) premoni- 
 tory states 
 
 (3) conflict- 
 ing im- 
 pulses 
 
 Two factors 
 involved in 
 the devel- 
 opment of 
 the second 
 from the 
 first condi- 
 tion of feel- 
 ing
 
 196 Principles of Education 
 
 The law of stimuli as an illustration of his law of physiological resolution. 
 cai^sduT States that succeed each other, owing to the succession of the 
 tion stimuli that provoke them, may come to pass readily into each 
 
 other, so that the stimulus to the first may without the aid of 
 the other stimuli rouse in rapid sequence each of the following 
 states. So, too, a condition aroused by a representative 
 stimulus may come to pass rapidly into the state that accom- 
 panies the presence of the condition that is represented. In 
 that event, the representative condition is so quickly resolved 
 into one of vital change that it practically gains the intensity 
 and the quality of the feeling that accompanies such serious 
 disturbances. The symbolic state A passes forthwith into a 
 dangerous one B. They practically fuse, and in effect A be- 
 comes as disagreeable as B was originally. 
 
 its identity Professor Jennings has observed cases for example, the 
 oHrradk unicellular euglena and the sea urchin where stimuli that 
 tion of feel- at first met no response came ultimately to receive one because 
 they represent other more vital threatening conditions. The 
 same general principle finds common enough an illustration 
 in the transference * or irradiation 2 of the feelings in human 
 experience. The uneasiness that was at first attached only 
 to a certain state comes to accompany an earlier premonitory 
 one. Feelings provoked by certain objects are thus in ways 
 quite unaccountable to their subject attached to other objects. 
 Introspection does not reveal the subtle associations through 
 which many experiences derive their interest, their power to 
 annoy or to delight. 
 
 Derivation The third type of disagreeable feeling that we have dis- 
 faom tbe tinguished is connected with the struggle of conflicting im- 
 secpnd con- pulses to action. It is evident that this sort of a condition is a 
 feeling normal outcome of disagreeable feeling. Such feeling stimu- 
 
 1 Compare Sully, Psychology; and Ribot, Psychology of the Emotions, p. 176. 
 
 2 Compare Ziehen, Introduction to Physiological Psychology.
 
 Learning by Trial and Error 
 
 197 
 
 lates experimentation. If the experimenter possesses a re- 
 sourceful action system, it is likely that many impulses will be 
 simultaneously evoked. This is certain to happen when some 
 impulses are at least partially inhibited as the result of a dim 
 sense of the problematic character of their consequences. 
 Thus an array of warring tendencies is marshaled forth, and 
 the disagreeable feeling that evoked them irradiates into the 
 consciousness of their conflict. 
 
 So constant is this association in man between disagreeable 
 feeling and a conflict of motor impulses that Professor Judd 
 has declared 1 such struggle to be the sole condition of this sort 
 of feeling. As has just been shown, the relation might be 
 stated in the reverse way. A conflict of impulses normally 
 results from disagreeable feeling. However, the inhibition 
 and conflict of impulses is itself an unsatisfactory condition 
 from the point of view of readjustment. It is only when such 
 tendencies become coordinated, or at any rate, when some 
 break loose from their inhibitions, that tension is relieved and 
 satisfaction is felt. Thus, both from the point of view of the 
 condition that provokes it, and the results that spring from it, 
 the conflict of impulses is intimately associated with dissatis- 
 faction. However, from the point of view of evolution, it 
 seems evident that both feeling associated with dangerous 
 katabolism, and feeling premonitory of such a condition if 
 the impulse associated with it is carried out, should precede 
 and furnish the basis for feeling provoked by a struggle of 
 impulses. Therefore the list of conditions of feeling offered 
 by Professor Angell 2 seems correctly to suggest the genetic 
 order. According to this we have three sources of disagreeable 
 feelings : (i) diseased conditions of the organism ; (2) exces- 
 sive neural stimulation ; and (3) the checking or impeding 
 of consciousness in the efforts to guide action. 
 
 1 Psychology, Ch. VII. * Psychology, Ch. XTV. 
 
 View that the 
 third is the 
 most 
 general 
 condition 
 of feeling 
 
 Angell's 
 three con- 
 ditions of 
 disagree- 
 able feeling
 
 198 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Cognition 
 implies 
 ideational 
 readjust- 
 ment 
 
 While not identical with the classification of the conditions 
 of feeling offered in the preceding discussion, Professor Angell's 
 list suggests the simpler as well as the more complex conditions 
 under which this selective principle may be supposed to work. 
 At first operative to check katabolism before it has gone too 
 far, feeling rouses reactions that serve as experiments toward 
 remedying this condition. Thus profiting by results becomes 
 possible. Then, through the growth of greater sensitivity 
 and the working of the principle of irradiation, feeling is enabled 
 to forewarn against dangerous conditions before they have 
 actually come to pass. Thus it inhibits impulses that might 
 lead to destructive consequences, and provokes others in the 
 search for one free from the taint of suspicion. Learning be- 
 comes more speedy. It forestalls injury more effectively, and 
 the way is opened up for the avoidance of the dangers of actual 
 experimentation. Finally, with the higher, more resourceful or- 
 ganisms, feeling becomes wedded to those conditions of conflict 
 which furnish the foundation for ideational readjustment, and 
 in this the anticipation of results and the avoidance of the 
 wear and tear of actual experimentation are at a maximum. 
 
 SECTION 25. Perceptual readjustment 
 
 The essential feature of learning by trial and error is, as we 
 have seen, the presence of actual as contrasted with mere 
 ideational experimentation. But ideational readjustment does 
 not Minerva-like spring suddenly into perfect operation. In- 
 deed, we rarely if ever find it working without some assistance 
 from the testing of actual results. On the other hand, when- 
 ever cognition anticipates the outcome of an impulse, there 
 some degree of ideational readjustment is present, for, as we 
 have seen, 1 cognitive consciousness has everywhere the task of 
 learning as its fundamental function. 
 
 |x8.
 
 Learning by Trial and Error 199 
 
 It is important to note that affection is concerned just as Functions of 
 much in anticipating the outcome of action as is cognition. 
 There is, however, this difference. Affection merely fore- tion 
 shadows failure or success ; cognition presents a neutral 
 descriptive account of the outcome, an account that may 
 mean failure or success according to purposes and circum- 
 stances. The usefulness of cognition lies in that its material 
 can be utilized in cases where the specific outcome of proposed 
 reactions has never been tested. Affection registers the verdict 
 of the actual test. Cognition so anticipates the result as to 
 make possible a verdict without a test. 
 
 We have seen * that cognition may by remembering the Cognition an 
 outcome of specific experiments strengthen the inhibitions or 
 
 the approvals of feeling, thus assisting it in the formation of resources 
 
 habits. This function is, however, merely incidental to its 
 
 main one, which is to enlarge the action system by providing 
 
 ideas of action based on past experience. Conscious memory 
 
 saves what learning by trial and error loses. Our failures as 
 
 well as our successes provide us with an experience which 
 
 enhances our mental resources when again we learn. 
 
 Cognition not only provides resources, but it gives them in a 
 form that enables us to appraise their value, at least to some 
 extent, without actual experimentation. It furnishes ideas of 
 action. These ideas may be related, organized, compared, 
 and thus their relative practical value may be determined by 
 purely mental operations. This process of selecting by think- 
 ing the idea that shall control action we have called, from what 
 may be regarded as its perfected form, judgment. To have ideationai 
 ideational experimentation, on the one hand, we must have 
 
 experience manifesting itself in the form of ideas of possible involving 
 
 i both ideas 
 
 action, and, on the other hand, the mechanism of feeling, a nd judg- 
 
 which anticipates results already practically tested either in ment 
 
 '19-
 
 2OO Principles of Education 
 
 the individual or the race, must be supplemented by some 
 phase of the mechanism of judgment, by which we may fore- 
 cast results that have never been specifically subjected to actual 
 test. There must be notions of things to do, and the mind 
 must be capable of bringing these into logical relations with 
 each other. Instead of relying wholly on the test of the overt 
 result, we must be able to submit our plan of action to some 
 mental standard by which its reliability may be estimated. 
 
 Perception a In perception, the simplest form of genuine cognition, we 
 
 have an illustration of ideational experimentation in its begin- 
 
 ideationai nings. On the other hand, perceptual control is so dependent 
 
 ment US upon the suggestions of the senses, and so wedded to the guid- 
 
 ance of the apprehension of results, that it presents to us the 
 
 features of learning by trial and error rather than those of 
 
 learning through ideas alone. It will be our task in this sec- 
 
 tion to show from an analysis of perception that, while it func- 
 
 tions as an adjunct of trial and error learning, it illustrates, 
 
 nevertheless, a genuine case of ideational readjustment. 
 
 Conflict The preliminary condition of ideational readjustment is, as 
 
 we nave seen m tne l ast sec tion, the inhibition of impulses. 
 
 function- Only thus do we get a chance to put ideas in control of the 
 current of action. But the mere checking of one impulse is 
 not enough, provided it merely makes way for another. There 
 must be a number of impulses in struggle for supremacy, and 
 these impulses must be associated with ideas of their nature 
 and outcome. The struggle of impulses may then be regarded 
 as a struggle of ideas. 1 This conflict can be settled by a battle 
 
 1 It may be thought that I am talking in terms of an abandoned phase of 
 the psychology of Herbart. The idea, as with the English Associationists, is 
 dealt with as an entity that struggles with others, and, perhaps, fuses with them, 
 but remains through all in its simple essence the same. This view seems to 
 atomize consciousness in an entirely unwarranted way. My treatment of the 
 idea does not imply that it is to have such substantial identity. We have only 
 to think of it as a living thing, a mental activity, that is not of necessity per-
 
 Learning by Trial and Error 201 
 
 under the rules of mental activity, if you will, of intel- 
 ligence or of logic. Without a struggle of impulses, ideas get 
 no chance to become adjusted to each other. Hence they do 
 not function. If we can conceive them to be present at all, 
 they are mere incumbrances to the impulses with which they 
 are associated. 
 
 A perception may be defined as an interpreted sensation. 
 Perception lifts sensation into consciousness by giving it 
 meaning. The element of significance or relation comes from 
 the past. It is that in the perception which is due to experi- 
 ence, to memory. It is, however, so intimately fused with 
 what the senses give that one cannot tell introspectively where 
 sensation ends and interpretation begins. The separation can 
 best be effected by experiments in which the same sensation 
 receives, because of a different context or mental attitude, a 
 different interpretation. Herein also may be seen the func- 
 tion of perception. Since the same sensation may according Perceptual 
 to circumstances have several interpretations, and so several uo 
 appropriate responses, perception becomes a process of attach- problem- 
 ing to a situation an interpretation which may be problematic 
 or new, and in any case is sufficiently variable or unlearned 
 to preclude an effective habitual response. Wherever such 
 an habitual response becomes established, there perception 
 abandons the field to automatism. Its function is to deter- Their deter- 
 mine the interpretation of sensations by reference to their matter* of* 
 contexts, and this is ideational readjustment. ideationai 
 
 readjust- 
 
 Perceptual interpretations are of many kinds. Two of the ment 
 most important are what are known as recognition and locali- 
 zation. Recognition is noting what an object is, localization illustration 
 is fixing its position. Both are fundamental to the proper re- ^ O f rec- 
 ognition 
 
 manently individuated, but still is an entity playing a real part in determining 
 the direction of consciousness. This view, I take it, agrees both with the 
 accepted notions of psychologists to-day and with facts of experience.
 
 202 Principles of Education 
 
 action toward an object in space. Each is a result of a com- 
 parison of sensory data more or less involved, although the 
 processes of this comparison are not attended to and distin- 
 guished. If a wolf hears a sound, as of the crackling of leaves, 
 many interpretations of its meaning are possible. It may be 
 caused by the wind and so bear no message of importance. 
 It may be the tread of a living creature, an animal upon 
 which the wolf preys, a fellow-wolf, a hunter. The reaction of 
 the listener should be different for each of these. The sound, 
 doubtless, suggests to the wolf more or less vaguely each in- 
 terpretation. The first result is an alertness of attention to 
 various sensory clews that may corroborate one among the 
 many objects vaguely conjectured. This attitude may be 
 supplemented by an experimental one. The wolf may move 
 about, it may bring into play various senses, in the hope that 
 some new development will furnish the suggestion that will 
 determine which interpretation to take. Perhaps one inter- 
 pretation may, owing to something in the surroundings or to 
 the individual feelings of the wolf, seize the attention and de- 
 termine a tentative action. However, the developments of 
 a few moments may to an alert animal signify the need of an 
 immediate reversal of this reaction. Instead of running away, 
 as from a dangerous enemy, perhaps it should be pursuing some 
 creature upon which it feeds. 
 
 (2) the case It will be seen that the condition of perceptual control is 
 tion Ca " one f alertness ; that is, one in which many interpretations 
 are held ready to seize the focus of attention as new data come 
 to the support of this or that one. It is in the corroborations 
 and the contradictions of these data, in the correlation of them 
 into a basis for a compromise or coordinated activity, that 
 perception illustrates ideational readjustment. Such cor- 
 relation is especially in evidence in localization. The locality 
 of an exciting object is one of the most important of the data
 
 Learning by Trial and Error 203 
 
 upon which a reaction toward it is based. If an object is a 
 foot away, our movements in reference to it will be very dif- 
 ferent from those toward the same object a mile away. If a 
 cat pursues a bird, at a certain distance it crouches and creeps, 
 at another it springs. These reactions are not dependent 
 upon localization alone. What the object is, what accom- 
 panies it, where it is, all combine to constitute an array of 
 specific conditions that may be very complicated indeed. Yet 
 each factor may be instrumental in determining the char- 
 acter of the response. The reaction of a sheep toward a wolf 
 may depend on the distance of the wolf, the character of the 
 intervening country, the presence or absence of guardian dogs 
 or men, and so on indefinitely. As a rule each factor will find 
 its reflection in the total movement of the sheep. 
 
 To bring out more clearly the complicated nature of the data Complicated 
 that enter into the adjustments of perception, we may note ^The^r- 
 not only that the stimulus usually consists of many objects ceptual 
 which must be recognized and perhaps localized in order to 
 control action properly, but also that these processes of recog- 
 nition and localization are themselves frequently a result of 
 a correlation of data. We have shown how recognition may 
 require the cooperation of several cues, and often involves 
 quite a little experimental activity. Localization may be 
 equally complicated. If it takes place through vision, it in- 
 volves a comparison of the image of the object to be located 
 with its known size. Moreover, the number and size of inter- 
 vening objects, relative clearness, binocular disparity, the 
 amount of binocular convergence, and many other factors 
 enter in to determine by joint or majority agreement the po- 
 sition that shall be assigned to the object. 
 
 The process by which these various factors in perception 
 are weighed and resolved into a practical decision is, of course, 
 not, like that of reasoning and judgment, clear to introspec-
 
 204 Principles of Education 
 
 tion. Indeed, without experimental aid one would not be able 
 
 to detect the factors themselves. 1 Yet, although obscure and 
 
 not consciously recognized, these " premises" of perceptual 
 
 interpretation are, nevertheless, taken account of, and where 
 
 illusions as they are wanting or ambiguous effective perceptual control 
 
 of US percep- ceases. Illusions of distance arise because in the conflict of 
 
 in- d a ta certain unreliable ones overbear others. When we stand 
 on the verge of an unusually high precipice, objects below seem 
 like miniatures. Objects at a much greater distance but on 
 the same level do not ordinarily seem smaller than they should. 
 Since the experience of surveying things several hundred or 
 more feet below is out of the common, the mind fails to read 
 relative size immediately into distance, as it does in ordinary 
 cases. There is a conflict among the cues as to the position 
 of the thing, and the suggestion springing from the size of the 
 image yields so far as the sense of distance is concerned, but 
 reasserts itself, insisting that, if the objects are not far away, 
 they must at least be very small. 
 
 isolation of As memory evolves into greater retentiveness, the struggle 
 tkmsMis a " to synthesize the various significances that attach to the sense 
 ideas impressions becomes fiercer. The ultimate outcome of this 
 
 struggle is that the meanings are forced apart from the sensa- 
 tions with which they were at first so closely fused, and are 
 lifted into independent existence as ideas. When this is done, 
 we have passed beyond perceptual readjustment, and have 
 reached the beginnings of conscious reasoning. In regard to 
 localization we become conscious first of the fact that we are 
 estimating distance, then of the various estimates that are in 
 conflict, and finally of the data on which these estimates are 
 based. Here, as everywhere, clearer consciousness arises be- 
 cause of its necessity as a means of readjustment. Perception 
 
 1 Compare Stratton, Experimental Psychology and its Relation to Culture, Ch. 
 II, "The Evidence for Unconscious Ideas."
 
 Learning by Trial and Error 205 
 
 attends in general only to those sensations that require mental 
 readjustment in order that they may be interpreted properly. 
 It evolves into reasoning in the endeavor to grapple with cer- 
 tain of these interpretations more securely. 
 
 In discussing the relation between consciousness and habit, 1 Habitual 
 we noted that, while consciousness saves an account of the im- nature f 
 
 perceptual 
 
 pulses that are eliminated in the formation of habits, neverthe- interpreta- 
 less, not all such material is preserved. Moreover, the de- 
 termination of what shall be retained rests upon the very laws 
 of habit which eliminate certain impulses and establish others. 
 We remember selected experiences, and these are in a sense 
 habitual experiences. This fact is especially well illustrated 
 in the interpretations of perception. The process by which 
 these are associated with their sensations is at bottom essen- 
 tially one of trial and error, and the result is a habit. As 
 consciousness grows richer, however, the standard of selection 
 to which interpretations must submit in order to stick to the 
 cues that excite them ceases to be merely the overt outcome 
 of following them and becomes to a considerable extent their 
 agreement with other interpretations which are themselves to 
 some degree established by the laws of habit. 
 
 The logic of perceptual readjustment is, for the most part, The logic of 
 a logic of habit and of feeling. Habits of thought are thrust %%&? 
 into company with other habits of thought. They can live perceptual 
 if they can live harmoniously. Otherwise some must disap- 
 pear. Often ways of thinking essentially inconsistent may 
 survive because they never have been brought to bear upon 
 the same activity in such a way that their inconsistency results 
 in actual failure of readjustment. In that event certain inter- 
 pretations disappear, not because they are inconsistent with 
 established ideas, but because they do not work in practice. 
 However, the repetition of such struggles, and the constant 
 
 '19-
 
 2O6 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Rise of con- recurrence of a settlement which conforms to principles of 
 lode 5 mental consistency, forces these principles before attention as 
 selective factors which may in anticipation of the judgment 
 of the event enable unreliable interpretations to be eliminated. 
 Thus ways of thinking come to be rejected, not merely because 
 they do not work in fact, but also because they do not work 
 in thought. Ideas are submitted not only to the empirical, but 
 also to the logical test, and ideational readjustment becomes 
 self-conscious. 
 
 The sense of consistency among ideas is at first far enough 
 from scientific criticism. It is a mere feeling of harmony or 
 its lack, that operates, as feeling everywhere does, selectively. 
 We have here what we have called a logic of feeling. The 
 principles of consistency are felt, but not clearly cognized. 
 However, such feeling frequently suffices to forestall actual 
 experimental resolution of inconsistencies. The clear con- 
 sciousness of logical requirements arises, as does the conscious- 
 ness of the ideas which logic enables us consistently to relate, 
 because of the pressure of the need of readjustment, the preva- 
 lence of error. Only through the development of rationality 
 to take the place of mere intuition, or feeling of correctness, 
 can the complicated and variable situations of human life be 
 satisfactorily met. 
 
 The procedure of perceptual as of all readjustment is one 
 of experiment. 1 Experimentation consists here in the passing 
 of a certain interpretation before attention. But if the read- 
 justment is to be a mental one, this interpretation must not 
 wholly control action ; the movement that is provoked must 
 be merely tentative ; and the mind must remain alert to note 
 any development that may confound or confirm the sugges- 
 tion that attention entertains. In pure trial and error learn- 
 ing the experiment is an impulse. As we pass over to conscious 
 
 1 Compare 17. 
 
 Mental ex- 
 perimenta- 
 tion in 
 perceptual 
 readjust- 
 ment
 
 Learning by Trial and Error 207 
 
 learning, it becomes a mental hypothesis to be tested more Overt and 
 and more by an ideational rather than by an overt test. The 
 
 tests 
 
 advance to the higher form of learning means also that atten- 
 tion, instead of being so much on the alert to note the external 
 developments which experimental movements are bringing to 
 pass, becomes more and more absorbed in the inner world of 
 ideas from which it may expect to derive many if not most of 
 its standard tests for truth. 
 
 To resume, the characteristic features of trial and error learn- Summary 
 ing are the actual experiment and the judgment of the event as 
 indicated by feeling. The characteristic features of conscious 
 learning are hypotheses, or ideational experiments, and the 
 test of the judgment of experience, as indicated by conformity 
 to ideas held to be true. The link between learning by trial 
 and error and conscious learning is found in perception. Per- 
 ception is characterized by attention to the outward, alertness 
 to the outcome of tentative activity initiated by its sugges- 
 tions. It submits its hypotheses to a test partly of overt re- 
 sults, partly of conformity to ideas. Its logic is one of habit 
 and feeling. Yet, on the other hand, perception holds all im- 
 pulses inhibited, at least partially, until its logic is satisfied. 
 Its attitude is not quite that of reflective suspension of judg- 
 ment, but rather that of alertness to many objective events that 
 are felt to concern effective action. Such alertness is an idea- 
 tional attitude that may be called the forerunner of critical re- 
 flection. In perceptual readjustment the ideas of action are 
 not free ideas, but are wedded to sensory cues. The transi- 
 tion to conscious learning involves the analysis of perception, 
 the separation of sensory cue from interpretation, and the con- 
 scious endeavor to estimate the reliability of the interpreta- 
 tion, which now of course is recognized as a mere idea. It 
 further involves the discovery of various relations among ideas. 
 The reliable ones are separated and fixed in memory, the un-
 
 208 Principles of Education 
 
 reliable are eliminated. Lastly, the logical sense must appear, 
 and there must be a clear grasp of logical principles by which 
 the conformity of the plan of action to the mental standard 
 of reliability may be tested. From felt we must advance to 
 known consistency.
 
 CHAPTER VIH 
 
 CONSCIOUS LEARNING 
 
 SECTION 26. Factors in conscious learning 
 
 ONE cannot emphasize too much the fact that what we find 
 in practice is not mere trial and error learning, on the one 
 hand, and pure ideational readjustment, on the other, so much 
 as it is a combination of the two. From one extreme, where 
 the resources of learning are blind impulses and the process is 
 controlled by mere feeling of results, to the other, where the 
 resources are ideas and where deliberation is brought to a 
 conclusion only when a suggestion is found that conforms con- 
 sciously to the accepted criteria of judgment, we find all sorts 
 of intermediate processes. To some of these nearly every 
 case of human learning can be referred. Such learning is 
 rarely without perceptual control, in which we have the begin- 
 nings of ideational readjustment, and, on the other hand, it 
 very seldom reaches pure reasoning. 
 
 The phases of conscious learning may be roughly divided 
 into perceptual, imaginative, and conceptual readjustment, 
 the latter being in its perfected form reasoning. These forms 
 are to be distinguished by the sort of material that makes up 
 the resources in learning. On the other hand, the method of 
 selection may be made a basis of distinguishing sorts of learn- 
 ing. Here we find such phases as resolution of struggle of im- 
 pulses through the outcome of the interplay of forces in the 
 body stimulated by these impulses ; resolution by the control 
 of attention through the perception of results, or by inner feel- 
 f 209
 
 2IO 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Distinctness 
 of resource- 
 fulness and 
 judgment 
 
 Resource- 
 fulness 
 precedent 
 to judg- 
 ment 
 
 ings or attitudes that assert their sway ; resolution through 
 conscious experimentation that aims to anticipate or test 
 results ; conscious, rational deliberation. These are but a 
 few of many forms, to be described later, through which judg- 
 ment passes on the way to clearly conscious control over the 
 process of ideational readjustment. It is to be noted that all 
 these phases of learning cooperate in a great variety of com- 
 binations. Imagination rarely works independently of per- 
 ception, much less reasoning independently of imagination. 
 So, too, the simpler phases of resolution are seldom entirely ab- 
 sent, even when judgment assumes its most deliberate forms. 
 
 The two factors of ideational readjustment, mental resource- 
 fulness and judgment, are sufficiently distinct to be capable 
 of varying independently. The mind, when it develops within 
 itself both an action system upon which experimentation can 
 be based, and a capacity for selection by which such experi- 
 mentation can be settled, necessarily brings each advance 
 to bear upon the other. However, it is quite possible for 
 resourcefulness to outrun judgment, and with some it would 
 seem that the judgment excels the fertility of the mind. In a 
 general way, mental development begins with mental vari- 
 ability. At first, this new material is subjected to the simpler 
 methods of resolution and selection that have all along pre- 
 vailed. Later on, new phases of judgment, made possible 
 by the new sort of material which it is to control, appear. 
 
 The precedence of resourcefulness to judgment is but an il- 
 lustration of the general relation between variation and selec- 
 tion throughout evolution. It would seem that this relation 
 is necessary and inevitable. How can there be selection until 
 there is something to select, something to eliminate? How 
 can judgment appear until ideas have been created to be 
 judged? One can understand how ideas might function 
 through an appeal to lower types of selection, even though
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 211 
 
 true judgment could scarcely be said to exist, but it seems 
 impossible for judgment to outrun ideas. There can be no 
 doubt that here we do have a general fact. However, it is 
 also evident that in social intercourse the ideas may come from 
 some and the judgment from others. Thus cooperation makes 
 possible specialization in a talent that otherwise would lie in 
 abeyance for lack of material to work upon. Some possess 
 and cultivate a power that exercises itself largely in selecting 
 and adapting the suggestions made by others. 
 
 Both mental resourcefulness and judgment are capable of 
 further analysis. Each involves a factor of content and one 
 of attitude. 1 From the point of view of content, resourceful- 
 ness involves the experience from which can be constructed 
 ideas of possible ways of meeting new emergencies, and judg- 
 ment requires that we have standards of relative value that 
 we can apply to these ideas in order to test their reliability as 
 plans of action. The necessity of the attitude is seen in the 
 fact that one may have much experience and few ideas. To 
 convert the one into the other, the thinker must have a cer- 
 tain power of calling up his resources, which may be called 
 the attitude of originality. Without originality experience is 
 capital that cannot be liquidated or applied to new uses. It is 
 mere habit of thought that cannot be separated from its mooring 
 in a context of experience and floated away to another situa- 
 tion to take part in a novel service. The attitude depends 
 partly on such an organization of experience as enables its 
 recall in new situations, and partly upon an intellectual daring, 
 a loosening of inhibitions, a feeling that stimulates to mental 
 adventure. All these combine to enable the mind to range 
 among its resources, converting what at first glance seem like 
 
 1 The word "attitude" is used very much as by Professor Judd. Compare 
 his Psychology, and his article on the "Doctrine of Attitudes," Journal of Phil. 
 Psych, and Sc. Metft., Vol. V, No. 25. 
 
 Judgment 
 may out- 
 run fertil- 
 ity of 
 mind 
 
 Resource- 
 fulness as 
 dependent 
 on experi- 
 ence and 
 the attitude 
 of original- 
 ity
 
 212 Principles of Education 
 
 foreign and irrelevant lines of thought into the source of ideas 
 that startle in the effectiveness of their application to the 
 emergency in hand. 
 
 judgment as Just as resourcefulness depends not only upon a content of 
 i- ex P er i ence > but also upon an attitude of originality, by which 
 
 edge of this experience may be converted into ideas, so judgment is 
 and* th e S not merely a matter of a knowledge of the standards of relia- 
 criticai at- bility and desirability, but also of an attitude that enables 
 
 titude . . 
 
 these standards to be put into effect. We may call this the 
 logical or critical attitude. It is essentially a tendency toward 
 mental caution, toward inhibition. We feel that we must 
 "look before we leap," that no plan of action should be allowed 
 to prevail until it has stood the test of judgment. One may 
 have very good ideas as to what sort of suggestions are most 
 akely to prove wise in certain classes of emergencies, yet he 
 may be so impulsive or so thoughtless that these ideas never 
 get a proper chance to function. On the other hand, there are 
 some in whom, as a result of nature or training or both, the 
 critical, hesitating temper has grown so strong that decision 
 becomes exceedingly difficult. 
 
 The attitudes It is important to recognize the reality of these attitudes 
 from' the Ct a P art Irom tne materials with which they deal. In a sense, 
 content of they are general in character, for, if they are natural or habitual 
 
 thinking i*iii 
 
 to an individual, they recur whenever a new emergency is 
 faced or new ideas are proposed. The existence of such states 
 of mind has been ignored by the Herbartians and questioned 
 by many modern psychologists under the influence of the view 
 that the phenomena of consciousness can all be reduced to 
 definite ideas and their interrelations. Thus they deal with 
 the attitude as merely the outcome of the content of mind, 
 and hence as attached solely to the definite experiences in 
 connection with which it arose. It is regarded as incapable 
 of functioning apart from them, much less of varying inde-
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 213 
 
 pendently. The content theory of mind will be discussed more 
 fully later in connection with the chapter on Formal Disci- 
 pline. For the present I wish to assume, what seems evident 
 enough to analysis, that although the attitude and the content 
 develop side by side, yet they are distinct. We are, indeed, 
 incapable of being original unless we have some experience, 
 or of being critical without something corresponding to a 
 sense of standards ; yet originality is not commensurate with 
 experience, nor mental caution with an awareness of the con- 
 ditions with which sound judgment should conform. 
 
 Indeed, in regard to the critical attitude, it seems that one 
 may be cautious and hesitating without any clear notion of 
 the definite reason for such action. One may even display 
 this attitude where no such definite reason exists. We have 
 only to feel that the situation is in some way new and strange 
 and that well-established habits do not fit readily. Under these 
 conditions an idea of action may be inhibited, not because we 
 recognize its failure to conform to the conditions of success, but 
 just because it is new and untried as a solution of the emer- 
 gency. We may even fail to recognize what the conditions 
 of success are, but simply feel the presence of the unusual. 
 In fact, the critical temper is primarily the outgrowth of fear 
 and caution, and these feelings may well be regarded as ful- 
 filling for mere perceptual readjustment the function that 
 skepticism performs for reason. They inhibit action until 
 further data are collected, or until the situation develops more 
 fully. They are thus the condition for the accumulation of 
 cognitive material to aid the mind in reaching a position that 
 is capable of grasping and holding the attention. 
 
 Just as the critical temper may outrun the sense of the con- 
 ditions of decision, giving us a Hamlet, or may be easily swept 
 away by the pressure of ideas that invoke to action, as some 
 think to be the case with Roosevelt, so originality may be out 
 
 The critical 
 attitude as 
 varying in- 
 depend- 
 ently of 
 the knowl- 
 edge of 
 standards 
 
 Originality 
 as varying 
 independ- 
 ently of 
 experience
 
 214 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Differentia- 
 tion of 
 standards 
 from plans 
 
 of balance with the experience upon which it draws. Some 
 possess a vigor and daring of thought so out of proportion to 
 their resources for thinking as to produce the impression of 
 making a very little go a long way, or of being unwarrantably 
 presumptuous. Others are so lacking in originality as to 
 seem barren-minded although their lives may have been crowded 
 with experience. The study of how better to become the mas- 
 ter of our resources Professor James has very suggestively 
 declared 1 to be one of the principal fields for applied psy- 
 chology. 
 
 It may be thought that the view that the contents of think- 
 ing can be separated into standards and plans needs defense 
 quite as much as that which maintains the distinctness of the 
 rational attitudes. In simpler forms of consciousness the ex- 
 perience that comes up is habitual experience. It has stood 
 the empirical test and become in a measure standardized. 
 However, as we have seen, the evolution of greater sensitive- 
 ness means the retention of that which has been less and less 
 hammered in by repetition, and so selected out or standard- 
 ized by mere practice. Thus ideas appear which need to be 
 tested by their relation to other ideas that have already passed 
 through the ordeal. The distinction between mere plans and 
 standards is thus an inevitable consequence of the enrichment 
 of the mind with material for effective ideational readjust- 
 ment. The logical attitude, that develops into clearer con- 
 sciousness with the multiplication of these resources, inevi- 
 tably forces before attention the mechanism of its procedure. 
 This procedure demands valuation of the contents of mind and 
 a process of conscious judgment on the basis of such valu- 
 ation. Hence standards are differentiated and consciously 
 assigned their function in the mental process. 
 
 We may, then, regard the evolution of conscious learning 
 
 1 President's Address, American Philosophical Association, December, 1906.
 
 Conscious Learning 215 
 
 as essentially a matter of the development into greater per- Summary 
 fection of these four factors. As the capacity to store ex- 
 perience grows, the mind increases its action system. Per- 
 ceptual interpretations are supplemented by images of the 
 imagination, and these in turn by ideas of relation, or concepts. 
 The images and concepts become arranged according to the 
 feeling, and later according to the clear apprehension of rela- 
 tive worth into standard and doubtful ideas. Doubtful 
 ideas, when cast into the limbo of the rejected, are for the 
 time being useless, but until then they are conjectures from 
 whence ideational readjustment draws its nourishment. With 
 the progress of conscious learning, the mind grows more and 
 more conscious of the necessities of effective thinking. It 
 comes to take more consciously the attitude of conjecture, 
 of speculation, of invention. From simply waiting passively 
 for such ideas as will to come to its aid, it deliberately goes out 
 in search of them. It becomes consciously original. Simi- 
 larly, the logical or critical attitude develops from the mere 
 hesitation of mental timidity in the face of a new or as yet not 
 comprehended situation into a clear sense of the function of 
 reflectiveness and criticism, and into an attitude of unwill- 
 ingness to lift its inhibitions upon action until the standards 
 of judgment have been complied with. 
 
 SECTION 27. The evolution of ideas 
 
 The evolution of ideas we have characterized as a phase of ideas as an 
 the expansion of the action system from which the resources the action 
 of learning are derived. Experience and ideas constitute the system 
 culmination of an extraordinary array of instrumentalities, 
 muscles and their attached structures, the nervous system 
 with its powers of coordination, the artificial environment 
 with its tools, shelter, clothing, capital, etc., and the social
 
 2l6 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Selection 
 may con- 
 tribute to 
 resources 
 
 Illustration 
 in the case 
 of funda- 
 mental or 
 abstract 
 habits 
 
 environment bringing the forms of cooperation to the aid of 
 achievement. To utilize these instrumentalities ideas are in 
 some cases necessary, and nearly always of value. They 
 everywhere exist to facilitate the process of readjustment. 
 Their function is always to save flexibility in spite of the in- 
 roads of habit, to secure resources against the devastations 
 of selection. In this task they succeed so well that in many 
 respects they more than make good the loss. The loss of power 
 to readjust involved in acquiring certain habits is more than 
 replaced by the adaptability furnished by the experience 
 gained in the same process. In the brain certain associations 
 that lead to action are atrophied and for the time eliminated, 
 but in their place are established associations that lead to 
 thought, to ideas. Thus it happens that, when we may again 
 have need of experimental activity, these ideational associa- 
 tions function. Instead of random diffused activity, we have 
 thought which relates to the nature and results of such activ- 
 ity. Ideation, through its own conclusions, either rouses 
 again the corresponding movements or strengthens the in- 
 hibitions by which they are held in abeyance. 
 
 It is important to note that the process of selection, while 
 in general antithetical to that of the development or the in- 
 voking of resources, is, nevertheless, not only functionally 
 dependent upon these processes, but also contributory to 
 them. We have seen 1 that the development of habits con- 
 tributes to the power to learn such new adjustments as may 
 have them for a basis. Whenever the new situation has in it 
 something like the old, there the habits attached to the lat- 
 ter may become a fruitful basis for experimentation toward 
 readjustment. The value of habits is, therefore, to be esti- 
 mated, not only on the basis of the efficiency gained from their 
 use in the emergencies for which they are specifically adapted, 
 
 1 Compare 19.
 
 Conscious Learning 217 
 
 but also by considering the extent to which they can be used in 
 learning. Thus we may distinguish between fundamental 
 habits and such as have few relations and are, therefore, with- 
 out much value for readjustment. Now the habits that are 
 fundamental may as a rule be characterized as abstract. They 
 are associations of stimuli that constitute more or less minute 
 factors in total concrete situations with responses that rarely 
 or never appear except as integral parts of a coordinated move- 
 ment. Such habits are a result of analysis and selection. The 
 analysis ordinarily takes place when one applies an old habit 
 to a new situation. The result is some measure of separation 
 of the elements of similarity. On the one hand, attention is 
 enabled to concentrate upon the point of likeness between the 
 two situations. On the other hand, there is effected at least 
 a partial isolation of such fragment of the original habitual 
 response as applies to the new case. The like factor in the 
 stimulus and the like factor in the response are, under the pres- 
 sure of experimental learning, forced to cling together, and to 
 become abstracted from other factors in the concrete situa- 
 tions in which they appear. 
 
 Such abstract habituation is merely the forerunner of ab- Abstraction 
 stract thought. In both cases we have an association between 1Q adentai 
 
 to the cor- 
 
 a cue and a response. The cue is either a sensation or an idea, rection of 
 The response may be either a movement or a process of thought. 
 Without such an association analysis and abstraction would 
 be impossible. A new situation is felt to be like a familiar 
 one. An accustomed reaction is in consequence made, with 
 the result of partial failure. Experimentation saves such of 
 the old response as is successful. Again this response is stimu- 
 lated by a situation in some respects the same as the preced- 
 ing ones, but in others different from them. Further analysis 
 of the response is thus brought about. The result is that, 
 not only are movements broken up into constituent factors,
 
 2i8 Principles of Education 
 
 but also stimuli are analyzed into such elements as constitute 
 the appropriate motor cue to these reactions. To apply the 
 response properly, it must be associated with the stimulus 
 that is the proper signal for it. Hence this signal must be 
 attended to in some way. 
 
 Value of con- It is evident that many of our fairly abstract habits are sug- 
 
 discrhnina- g este d by stimuli that are not so much consciously discrimi- 
 
 tion of nated as felt. However, such control is of necessity unreliable 
 
 stimuli where we are shifting constantly from one concrete situation 
 
 to another. To rely upon feeling is to be unable to determine 
 
 ideationally the character of the situation. Hence only by 
 
 actual experiment can the appropriateness of the response be 
 
 tested. Thus with the growth of reflectiveness the cues to 
 
 fundamental abstract habits are themselves abstracted and 
 
 associated consciously to their proper responses. Cognitive 
 
 consciousness here illustrates its universal function, that 
 
 of enabling an anticipative determination of the outcome of 
 
 experimentation. 
 
 Abstraction The process of analysis and abstraction by which funda- 
 men tal habits or thought associations are singled out is evi- 
 
 and con- dently a selective process. In so far as these elements are 
 
 to resource- material for readjustment, the process of selection favors the 
 
 fulness expansion of the action system, the resources for experimen- 
 
 tation. Selection is not merely eliminative ; it favors enrich- 
 
 ment, in so far as its products lend themselves to new 
 
 combinations that would be impossible without them. An 
 
 individual equipped with a store of such reliable habits of 
 
 action and thought is enabled to achieve syntheses of skill 
 
 or foresight immeasurably beyond the possibilities of one who 
 
 depends on the concrete. 
 
 But while the process of selection contributes to resource- 
 fulness, it cannot operate unless it is provided with material. 
 The analysis upon which the coordinations of skill are based
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 219 
 
 is dependent upon a large equipment of muscles and a nerv- 
 ous system capable of effecting the separation of large mass 
 movements, the selective establishment of minuter associa- 
 tions, and the recombination of these into elaborate syn- 
 theses. So, too, in the evolution of ideas, each phase of analy- 
 sis and abstraction springs from conflict and contrast, and this 
 in turn is based upon a more sensitive memory, which masses 
 the cognitive material from which the conflict arises. Thus 
 both in mind and body the accumulation of resources precedes 
 differentiation, and differentiation involves elimination and 
 selection as a basis for analysis and abstraction. 
 
 The two principles, first that new analyses are founded upon 
 enlarged resources, and second, that, although a product of 
 selection, the abstractions that result from these analyses ul- 
 timately foster a gain in mental capital, are illustrated at 
 each step in the evolution of ideas. Indeed, so important are 
 these principles that the entire advance from perception to 
 rational systems of thought seems to be fundamentally an 
 illustration of them. Perceptual interpretation is an outgrowth 
 of a memory sufficiently sensitive to retain a vague sense of 
 several meanings that a given sensory cue may suggest. It is 
 this conflict in interpretation that forces the specific nature of 
 each upon consciousness. The rise of perception involves 
 enough of consciousness of the novelty or of the ambiguity 
 of the situations it concerns to provoke doubt and hesitancy 
 and hence to stir up alertness. Perception itself necessitates 
 enough clearly conscious interpretation to furnish a basis for 
 experimentation that aims to discover, in the first instance, 
 the nature of the stimulus, and only ultimately the proper re- 
 sponse. As a cognitive process, its purpose is to settle a men- 
 tal issue by mental data. Hence it experiments to get these 
 data, trusting that they can be obtained in time to forestall 
 serious results. We do not perceive those stimuli to which 
 
 Resources 
 necessary 
 as a basis 
 for selec- 
 tion 
 
 The evolu- 
 tion of 
 ideas de- 
 pendent 
 on (i) more 
 sensitive 
 memory: 
 (2) selec- 
 tive pro- 
 cesses 
 that assist 
 memory
 
 22O 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Perception 
 illustrates 
 this, for, 
 (i) it is 
 based on 
 memory of 
 conflicting 
 interpreta- 
 tions, 
 
 (2) these in- 
 terpreta- 
 tions are 
 selected 
 and ab- 
 stract 
 
 we invariably react in one regular way. Automatism reigns 
 here. But when a stimulus means many things according to 
 context, then it is necessary for cognition to sweep under its 
 inspection a conscious representation of this context in order 
 in any degree to anticipate the outcome of the event. 
 
 In a preceding section * an attempt was made to indicate the 
 function of perception, and the manner in which it combines 
 ideational readjustment with control by the apprehension of 
 results. Here the important consideration is that in its genesis 
 and development perception is a process of sensing and later 
 apprising certain significances in order that they may have 
 their weight in determining the true nature of the situation. 
 It is, therefore, founded on the memory that retains enough 
 of the past to offer conflicting interpretations of certain stimuli, 
 and thus provoke an attentive experimental attitude toward 
 them. With the increase in the sensitiveness of memory, the 
 conflict sharpens, and the data become more clearly differ- 
 entiated from each other. This clearness promotes mental 
 comparison, and thus favors a mental decision as to the exact 
 character of the situation and the proper method of treating it. 
 Thus the development of perception from vague interpreta- 
 tions to the clear apprehension of the nature of the things per- 
 ceived is a result of the expansion of mental resources that 
 springs from an increase in the sensitiveness of memory. 
 
 On the other hand, the interpretations of perception are for 
 the most part such as have been repeated many times, and so 
 attached to their sensory cues by the same process through 
 which habits are formed. They are selected interpretations, 
 fragmentary glimpses of the things to which they refer. They 
 give just that which is significant in the determination of the 
 proper reaction ; just what can be utilized in provoking hesi- 
 tancy, alertness, experimentation, or in furthering a mental 
 
 '25.
 
 Conscious Learning 221 
 
 decision as to the classification of the thing which enables 
 successful treatment of it. The clear apprehension of these in- 
 terpretations is a consequence not only of the grip of memory, 
 but also of concentration of attention, of discrimination, of 
 selection. Perceptual interpretation may be ranked among the 
 unqualified abstractions. Moreover, it is this abstract char- 
 acter that enables it tc be seized with sufficient distinctness and 
 associated persistently enough with its sensory cue to be raised 
 to the level of a genuine idea. Thus the gradual lifting of what 
 is at first a mere vague awareness into clear consciousness is a 
 result of the synthetic activity of memory and the analytic ac- 
 tivity of selective attention. Each agency fosters the work 
 of the other. Saving makes possible selection, and only the 
 selected is saved. Only by selection is the interpretation 
 raised into that conscious clarity which enables it to enter 
 into mental comparisons and so to prove itself of sufficient use 
 to be worthy of being saved. 
 
 It is not likely that anything resembling clear-cut perception clear-cut per- 
 of the nature of things appears until free images have come 
 
 into consciousness. So long as mental doubt is to be settled imagina- 
 by an appeal to new perception, corroborating some and reject- 
 
 ing others of the interpretations suggested for the situation, 
 so long the logic of this process remains a logic of felt coherence, 
 and it is unnecessary for clearly defined ideas such as can be 
 consciously compared to appear. The perceptual condition of 
 mind is not one of clearly defined awareness of the nature of 
 objects, but rather one of vague feelings of a variety of motor 
 cues which must be held at the threshold of attention until that 
 perception appears which shall by felt reenforcement lift one 
 of these cues into the control of attention. When, however, 
 free images have come to play a considerable part in the life 
 of consciousness, perception, doubtless, is for the first time able, 
 by comparison with these images and the reconstitution of its
 
 222 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Imagination 
 as based 
 on more 
 sensitive 
 memory 
 
 interpretations under their influence, to attain the sharpness 
 of conscious definition that characterizes the perception of 
 man. Thus distinctness comes into the mental life because of 
 the accumulation of material by which conflict, contrast, and 
 definition are made possible. In turn, this definition, this 
 clearness that results from contrast and analysis, is itself the 
 mark that characterizes material now gripped by the mind in 
 such a form as to constitute a genuine resource for the read- 
 justments of consciousness. 
 
 Imagination is born in the freeing of the perceptual inter- 
 pretation from its dependence upon sensation. The mind be- 
 gins to have ideas not fused directly with impressions coming 
 from the sense organs, but only indirectly suggested by them. 
 At first there is no conscious separation of perception from 
 image. The mind is not aware that some of the ideas are of 
 things actually present to sense, while others lack this quality. 
 This distinction between the perception and the image is a 
 phase of the development of judgment, and will be dealt with 
 later. Here we may note that images are a product of a more 
 sensitive memory than is displayed in perceptual interpreta- 
 tion, and that this memory fills the mind with other materials 
 than those that are fused with sensation. The uncertainty of 
 a doubtful interpretation, which is characteristic of perceptive 
 consciousness, is supplemented by mind wandering among 
 ideas more or less clearly cognitive of these interpretations and 
 their conditions and results. Instead of waiting for further 
 perception to settle the issue raised by doubtful sensory cues, 
 the mind rushes forward to anticipations based on past expe- 
 rience, that may, when they are compared, either make possible 
 a decisive interpretation of the situation without further ex- 
 perimental perception, or at least hasten and abridge this 
 process. 
 
 But while imagination is a result of sensitive memory, it
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 223 
 
 fails to give, at any rate in its simpler forms, anything like a 
 complete representation of the sense qualities of any object 
 to which it refers. So far from being a literal recall of past 
 experience, reproductive imagination gives only a partial dis- 
 torted representation. This character is due to several causes. 
 The perceptions from which the images are derived are them- 
 selves partial and more or less inaccurate. The image simply 
 exaggerates the peculiarities of its antecedent. Moreover, its 
 variations may be due in part to the influence of the context 
 of ideas and perceptions in which it is recalled. Association 
 with these brings about both abstraction and distortion of the 
 original mental content, which imagination is said to reproduce. 
 Again, the physiological processes underlying imagination may 
 be subject to change because of modified vital conditions, such 
 as nutrition, disease, etc. In fact, what is known as reproduc- 
 tive imagination is often quite as much a variant from its orig- 
 inal as though it were what we call constructive or creative 
 imagination. 1 
 
 The process of distortion involved in reproductive imagina- 
 tion, so far from being a mere falling away from the accuracy 
 and clearness of perception, is in point of fact a very important 
 condition of greater clearness and accuracy, not only in ideas, 
 but also in perceptions themselves. Images provoke action, 
 and, if they are inaccurate, the results are likely to be unex- 
 pected. In that event, the defectiveness of the images is likely 
 to be not only felt, but also apprehended. The correction of 
 error by thought comparisons means that the ideas are not 
 merely felt to be wrong, but known to be wrong in specific 
 respects. Thus the image gains in accuracy and clearness. 
 This gain is reflected into perception, which acquires a new 
 defmiteness, correctness, and cognitive quality. The inter- 
 pretations that in their original fusion with sensation were 
 1 Compare Ribot, Essay on the Creative Imagination. 
 
 The image a 
 variant 
 from the 
 original 
 perception 
 
 Such varia- 
 tion pro- 
 ductive of 
 further dis- 
 crimination 
 and sharp- 
 ening of 
 memory
 
 224 Principles of Education 
 
 vague and unanalyzed become clear-cut and ideational in qual- 
 ity. Thus analysis, although it seems based on the inaccuracies 
 of memory in its work of literal reproduction, results ultimately 
 in a great gain in the clearness and accuracy of what is remem- 
 bered. 
 Resultant j n sucn fashion the image, in spite of its inaccuracies, or 
 
 enrichment ... . . 
 
 ofimagina- perhaps because of them, constitutes an experiment through 
 tionand w hich we learn to apprehend clearly the truth. Because the 
 
 memory ... 
 
 suggestions of imagination are merely conjectures, and do 
 not always or even usually turn out safe guides to action, a 
 process of reconstruction is set up, which results in a definition 
 of all the contents of consciousness, with an extraordinary 
 coincident gain in cognitive quality. Perception acquires a 
 background. The sensations that operate as its suggestions 
 become overshadowed by the definitely apprehended meanings 
 that cluster about them. To see a thing means now to have 
 far clearer apprehension of its visual quality than the eye 
 unaided by imagination is capable of giving. Not only this, 
 but perception suffused with imagination gains a background 
 of a variety of sense qualities and meanings, each the result of 
 earlier analysis under the pressure of experimentation. With 
 this background a perception becomes in a true sense the per- 
 ception of a thing; that is, an object with many qualities and 
 relationships and significant for action in a great variety of 
 contingencies. 
 
 Types of im- The distinction between different types of imagination is a 
 dffferenti- result of a logical process of evaluation. Mere images are 
 ated by tested, clarified, and corrected. This process of correction is a 
 
 judgment 
 
 phase of the evolution of judgment. With the development of 
 this power one begins to distinguish images the sources and the 
 correctness of which are as yet undetermined from those known 
 
 1 Professor Baldwin discusses this thought experimentation and its results in 
 a very minute way in Thought and Things.
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 225 
 
 to represent accurately things as they are, have been, or will 
 be. Further analysis sets apart images known to reproduce 
 the past experiences of the self, and so to constitute memories 
 in the narrower sense of that term. Images known not to 
 represent facts are further classified according to whether they 
 represent the possible or the probable, or, perhaps, are the utter 
 fiction of mere fancy. All these distinctions and many more 
 are the result of judgment operative upon the image. In itself, 
 apart from its reliability and use, the image remains a mere 
 variant of perception cut loose from dependence upon sensation. 
 Imagination enlarges the resources of thinking by fostering 
 a tendency toward variation, by clarifying the cognitive states 
 through the mental comparisons that it makes not only possible 
 but necessary, and by bringing about a reconstruction of per- 
 ception, enhancing the cognitive quality of its interpretations, 
 and enabling an organization of masses of content about the 
 unity of the thing perceived. This work of reconstructing 
 experience into the fullness and the accuracy of a truthful 
 account of reality is enormously aided by the development of 
 the sense of relationship into distinct existence as conception. 
 Perception and imagination contain associations, but in such 
 forms of thought these associations are not made the special 
 object of distinguishing consciousness. They are merely felt. 
 Thus, while they rule the course of thought as they do the mech- 
 anism of habit, their presence is not cognised, and so the reli- 
 ability of their control is not criticised. When once these 
 relationships have been lifted into consciousness, they constitute 
 an addition to the resources of thinking, not only because they 
 are a new phase of consciousness, in many respects more val- 
 uable in controlling action than either perceptions or images, 
 but also for the reason that they are a tremendous engine for 
 reconstructing perceptions and images into richer, more reliable, 
 and more available materials for ideation. 
 Q 
 
 Conception 
 an aid to 
 the recon- 
 struction 
 and en- 
 richment 
 of experi- 
 ence
 
 226 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Conception 
 a revela- 
 tion of the 
 dynamics 
 of con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 Relation- 
 ships dis- 
 tinguished 
 into psy- 
 chological 
 and logical 
 
 As with all advances in the realm of ideas, the consciousness 
 of relations is made possible because of more sensitive memory. 
 The materials that enter into consciousness become through 
 this agency clearly enough defined for their complicated group- 
 ings to be taken into account. We note their coexistences and 
 their sequences, their likenesses and differences, because 
 we can remember well enough to recall the antecedents 
 after we have experienced the consequents. These group- 
 ings govern the progress of thought, and hence they are 
 determinative of the action dependent on the outcome of 
 this progress. If the associations are reliable, action founded 
 on them will prove successful. False associations bring failure. 
 The mind, experimenting with the effects of their control, be- 
 comes aware of their existence and significance by realizing 
 the bad consequences that may spring from them when they 
 are unreliable. Thus we are enabled not only to correct the 
 erroneous grouping of ideas and the corresponding habit of 
 action, but also to add to our stock of ideas the notion of the 
 specific associations that are at fault and those that are correct. 
 The dynamics of consciousness is revealed to the mind that is 
 'governed by it, and such self-consciousness is the parent of 
 enlarged power over the processes to which it refers. 
 
 The concepts of the mind may be classified in a great variety 
 of ways. We have abstract and concrete, class and individual 
 concepts. We have those fundamental concepts that are 
 called the categories of logic, and may be contrasted with the 
 concepts of the classes and things that are ranged under them. 
 For our purpose it may prove most fruitful to divide concepts 
 into those of psychological and those of logical relationships. 
 Psychological relationship is the dynamic relationship that 
 actually governs the course of ideas in the mind of an individ- 
 ual. It includes the relationships of habit, of similarity, or of 
 any other sort, provided these exert a controlling influence
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 227 
 
 upon the process of thinking. Logical relationship is any 
 relationship that may be detected among objects (or the corre- 
 sponding ideas) by a comparing mind. The logical relation- 
 ships are indefinite in number. They include likeness, dif- 
 ference, and all the relationships of quality, number and all 
 the relationships of quantity, the relationships of dependence 
 and interdependence, the relationships of thought to reality. 
 In short, there is no relationship that may not be made the 
 object of comparing intelligence. Hence the logical relation- 
 ships include the psychological ones, for thought may appre- 
 hend the principles that govern its course. Endowed with a 
 retentiveness that enables it to preserve some notion of the 
 experiences that are drifting into the past, it saves itself from 
 mere submergence in the present moment. It lifts a section 
 of its own experience before its attention. It reflects upon its 
 own procedure, and in so doing the psychological relationships 
 are made the object of consciousness. They become logical. 
 
 On the other hand, the important question arises, Can the 
 logical relationships become psychological ? Can the course 
 of thought be influenced by all the various interconnections 
 that a reflective consciousness discovers to exist among objects, 
 and so in some sense among the ideas that represent them. 
 Professor James declares that in so far as the order of conscious- 
 ness is determined, not by the order in which the sense impres- 
 sions appear, but by some inner principle of association, the 
 sole controlling factor is habit. 1 Among the principles of inter- 
 connection worked out by the English Associationists he admits 
 only one, that of association by contiguity in time, as having 
 any real domination over psychological processes. 
 
 At the outset of the discussion of this issue, it may be well 
 to recognize the fact that the possibility of ideational read- 
 justment rests on the capacity of logical relationships to dis- 
 
 1 Principles of Psychology, Vol. I, Ch. XIV. 
 
 Psychological 
 relation- 
 ships can 
 be made 
 logical 
 
 Can logical 
 relation- 
 ships be- 
 come psy- 
 chological ?
 
 228 Principles of Education 
 
 ideationai integrate and reorganize thought and so to substitute their 
 order for the mere successions and coexistences of habit. If 
 
 pendent on habits of thought cannot thus be reconstructed, then cognitive 
 
 the recon- . . . . 
 
 structkm consciousness is left without a function. It is a mere useless 
 
 f 10lc appendage, of no assistance to feeling and impulse in the process 
 
 logical re- of learning. All learning remains mere learning by trial and 
 s lps error. Ideationai experimentation and selection depends on 
 the ability to break away to some extent from habit, both as 
 regards the mental resources and the judgment as to their 
 availability. It would seem, therefore, that in assuming con- 
 scious learning to be a fact, one of necessity is involved in the 
 belief that the logical relationship, which it is the function of 
 mental activity to bring more and more clearly to the front, 
 should become incorporated in the mechanism by which the 
 attention is seized and, in consequence, the progress of thought 
 and action determined. 
 
 Partial re- Professor James admits something of the same sort when he 
 lustration 11 " discusses what he calls partial recall. Of the total context 
 of such re- of thought at any moment, one element, he affirms, may pre- 
 tion 3 n dominate over others in suggesting power. Thus the mere 
 mechanical agencies of habit are replaced by preferences, 
 interests that seem to spring from the mind itself. This pref- 
 erential activity becomes operative upon the material that the 
 dynamic associations of consciousness have caused to appear 
 in such a context that mental comparison of their relationships 
 becomes possible. Habit drags many things before attention. 
 Judgment enters in to arrange them, to evaluate them, and to 
 assign to each its relative value in determining the further 
 course of thought. The relations that govern judgment, 
 and that are by it brought to the front, are logical relation- 
 ships. Once fixed by attention, they become active forces, 
 undermining old habits of thought if they be illogical, and 
 replacing them by new ones. Thus they become what we have
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 229 
 
 called psychological or dynamic relationships. What the 
 mechanism of habit brings into the mind, the logical activity 
 of thought passes in review. Only that which survives this 
 selective process can continue as effective habit. The psy- 
 chological associations determine what resources shall through 
 suggestion be called into the mind. The logical associations 
 determine which of these resources are fitly called. The rejec- 
 tion of any tends to eliminate the association by which it was 
 suggested. Hence the only associations that can remain are 
 those that stand the test of logic. Through their selective 
 activity the logical associations make sure that the psycholog- 
 ical associations shall correspond to themselves. 
 
 It may be objected that if we define logical relationship as Approved 
 any relationship apprehended to exist between objects, it in- 
 cludes both relations of coherence and those of incoherence. 
 It is the business of judgment to banish the latter out of con- 
 sciousness and not to install them in control. Hence not all 
 logical relationships, but only those that are valid, are con- 
 verted by ideation into psychological relationships. This view 
 is undoubtedly true, and it is evident that we have here an 
 ambiguous use of the word " logical." We mean by it something 
 contrasted with the non-logical, i.e. that which is not made 
 the object of attentive consciousness. Again we may contrast 
 the logical with the illogical, or that which reflection cannot 
 approve or abide. To avoid possible misunderstanding, it 
 may be well to say that only such apprehended relationships as 
 are logical in the sense of being approved by judgment can as 
 a result of reflection be made to eliminate or modify earlier 
 habits of thought. 
 
 The awareness of relationships as distinct from the things 
 related, or conception, is thus a tremendous force for the reor- 
 ganization of the associations among ideas. These regroup- 
 ings mean new comparisons, new analyses. Moreover, each 
 
 logical 
 relation- 
 ships alone 
 possessed 
 of recon- 
 structing 
 power over 
 habit
 
 230 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The concept 
 
 teriaTfrom 
 which effec- 
 
 are con- 
 
 structed 
 
 Conception 
 
 ory: (i) by 
 
 escaping 
 
 exceptions; 
 
 structin n " 
 thought 
 
 analysis means the distinguishing not of an isolated but of a 
 rating factor, a concept. The concept is singled out because 
 of its apparent validity, universality, and fundamental char- 
 acter. It represents an association that claims logical coher- 
 ence an( j \^\. survives for a time the verifying test of repeated 
 experiences. It is abstracted because it occurs in many con- 
 texts and is a point of stability in all. This universality is 
 correlated closely with the quality of being fundamental, 
 or that from which many things can be derived. The analysis 
 of a mass of concrete experiences into detailed relationships 
 means reducing them to forms which can be used in the great- 
 est variety of new combinations because they are sound, co- 
 herent, and fundamental. The greater the variety of colors 
 and color properties .an artist has learned to distinguish, the 
 greater his resources in the elaboration of new effects. The 
 greater the knowledge of mechanical laws and devices pos- 
 sessed by an inventor, the richer the suggestions that rise in his 
 mind when a new mechanical problem is presented to him to 
 solve. So, too, the brilliancy and originality of a philosophical 
 system rests on the analysis of experience into philosophical 
 concepts, which can then be woven together into new syn- 
 theses. As Hegel contends, new systems are always compro- 
 mises, but compromises that are truly synthetic and, therefore, 
 original. If a writer would increase his power of invention in 
 regard to personality, it is necessary that he should begin by 
 analyzing the characters that he meets. 
 
 Conception further enlarges resources by strengthening the 
 memory upon which it itself is founded. Recall depends upon 
 what we have called psychological associations. We have 
 
 
 
 seen that reflection destroys such of those as cannot meet its 
 lS* ca l tests, thus reconstructing the dynamic groupings of 
 consciousness. But these reconstructed coherent associa- 
 tions are far more powerful agents of recall than the associa-
 
 Conscious Learning 231 
 
 tions of mere habit. Logical memory outstrips in effective- 
 ness that which is merely mechanical. Its associative links 
 are not constantly attacked and undermined by critical 
 thought. On the contrary, they are constantly being strength- 
 ened by use in other connections. Moreover, they are coherent 
 with other associations. They join with them in the organi- 
 zation of systems of thought where each item strengthens the 
 grip of memory on all the rest, as in a well-built arch the weight 
 of each stone strengthens the stability of the whole structure. 
 To change the figure, we may compare such systems of thought 
 to great buildings held together by steel frames. As the 
 strength of such edifices is dependent upon the strength of the 
 frame and the manner in which it binds the structure together, 
 so the grip of memory upon a thought is dependent upon the 
 clearness and coherence of the concepts by which this is 
 organized. 
 
 The notion of a self with a consistent history, involving illustration 
 physical appearance, habitat, occupation, family, character, ^ ^ ~ 
 and so fitting in at every angle, not only to other facts of the 
 self but also to those of the world outside, is an example of such 
 a thought system. So strong a grip does it possess upon the 
 details which it organizes that by its logic it can often supply 
 any gap that the memory of habit may be unable to fill. In- 
 deed, the memory of a reflective consciousness consists largely 
 of things that it knows must have happened or must be so. As 
 the child grows to maturity this sort of memory grows stronger, 
 and, in consequence, memory in general increases in power 
 in spite of a probable loss in mere mechanical power to retain. 
 
 The organizing and reconstructive power that springs from Language 
 ideas of relations receives remarkable illustration when these ^tivTof 
 ideas are associated with words. The topic of language will the values 
 be treated in a special chapter. Here, however, it may be noted t ; on 
 that words are of enormous assistance in enabling us to single
 
 232 Principles of Education 
 
 out the relations that it is of importance for us to consider and 
 to retain. Moreover, through recombinations of the elements 
 thus distinguished, it becomes possible for us to accumulate 
 an enormous fund of new experience from others. Our re- 
 sources are thus increased by the experience of society. The 
 memory of the individual is supplemented by the memory of 
 the race. Written language, by recording an account of indi- 
 vidual experiences as they take place, preserves an accurate 
 description of an immense amount of material that would 
 otherwise be lost or distorted. Thus history and science 
 become possible, the words together with the relations they 
 express drawing together in one enormous system of available 
 material practically all of the significant experience of the race. 
 
 The "silent The physiological basis of these ideas of relation is to be 
 the^or ans f un d in what are called the association areas of the brain, 
 of concep- These occupy about two thirds of the cortex of the hemispheres, 
 and constitute what have been called the "silent areas." 
 Thus the larger part of that portion of the brain which is cor- 
 related with consciousness is devoted to the formation of con- 
 nections. These connections go not singly but rather in groups, 
 giving systems of thought and coordinations of movement. 
 However, the analysis and isolation of the elemental associa- 
 tions is necessary, if one is to reorganize them readily. More- 
 over, such ready reorganization means, as we have seen, cog- 
 nition of the factors involved. Hence the silent areas must 
 concern themselves not only in associatifig, but also in think- 
 ing about associations; that is, in conception. The forma- 
 tion and use of ideas of relation may, therefore, not inappro- 
 priately be called the principal function of the human brain. 
 
 Summary To recapitulate, the evolution of ideas sums itself up in the 
 
 three phases of perceptual interpretation, imagination, and 
 ideas of relation, or concepts. In this expansion of power 
 two factors are everywhere in evidence ; first, increase in sen-
 
 Conscious Learning 233 
 
 sitiveness of memory, in sheer power to retain and recall ; 
 second, cognitive selection, which in the field of perception 
 and imagination is commonly called discrimination, and in 
 that of conception, analysis and abstraction. As memory 
 grows stronger, the mind is more and more apt to have conflict- 
 ing impulses or interpretations in response to the suggestions 
 of sense. Herein lies the condition of perception. The idea- 
 tional selection of the proper one among these conflicting 
 elements means at first merely the corroborating or eliminat- 
 ing effect of further experimental perceptions. This process 
 is brought to greater perfection as the interpretations with 
 which it deals become more sharply discriminated. The clear 
 awareness of the perceptual elements is forced upon us because 
 of the necessity of discriminating such of them as are critical 
 in determining the reactions that may be used in new situations 
 or such data as serve in a variety of emergencies to identify 
 various specific factors, the proper treatment of each of which 
 is known. To recognize, to classify, to diagnose, one must 
 have a cognitive account of defining characteristics, and the 
 clearer this account, the more effective it is in recognition. 
 But this cognitive account is a selected, a discriminated one. 
 It is saved from confusion by being separated from the mass 
 of vague interpretations with which it is at first associated. 
 Its practical value as a guide for action leads it to be differen- 
 tiated by an act of attention, and this separation raises it into 
 clearer consciousness than before. 
 
 Little by little such of the various interpretations of sensa- 
 tion as need to be used in recognition are subjected to this 
 process of clarification through selective discrimination. This 
 work is especially favored by the rise of imagination. The 
 free image is a result both of memory which holds many things 
 in mind besides the interpretation of the sensations of the mo- 
 ment, and also of a fairly clear cognition of this free material.
 
 234 Principles of Education 
 
 Since many clear-cut and conflicting images cannot be fused 
 with present sensation, they must needs be apprehended as 
 free ideas. But the accumulation of imaginative material 
 means more opportunity for ideational conflicts and selections, 
 and so further sharpness of contrast among ideas, further 
 classification of cognitive material. This enhanced distinct- 
 ness in images reacts upon the perceptive states, substituting 
 for vague interpretations a clear cognitive apprehension of 
 things and their qualities. Red is never so red as when the 
 image comes to the support of the sensation. Imagination 
 reconstructs perception ; selective discrimination sharpens 
 and so reconstructs both ; and memory furnishes the materials 
 upon which selective discrimination works. 
 
 As the materials of imagination become richer in quantity 
 and clearness, comparison is able to do more than simply to 
 cognize contrasted sense quality. The relations of these sense 
 qualities become sufficiently in evidence to be distinguished. 
 One remembers well enough to compare comparisons and to 
 apprehend likeness of relationship where there is unlikeness 
 of content related, or unlikeness of relationship where content 
 remains the same. These relationships are abstracted and 
 compared with each other. They are evaluated, and such as 
 stand well the test operate to reorganize selectively the psy- 
 chological connections that govern the course of thought. 
 Reflection, working upon materials brought before it by the 
 dynamic force of habit, discovers logical principles that com- 
 pel such habits of thought as fail to meet their requirements 
 to disappear. Thus the course of thought is reconstructed ac- 
 cording to logical principles, principles that are reiterated, 
 supplemented, and interconnected until they constitute a 
 grip upon their material that is well-nigh inexorable. The 
 memory of habit is enormously strengthened. Indeed, where 
 habitual memory fails, we are able to reconstruct our pasts,
 
 Conscious Learning 235 
 
 filling our memories with what we know must have taken place. 
 Language, oral and written, comes to our assistance, and the 
 systems of thought which through the binding and reconstruct- 
 ing force of conception the individual has been able to build 
 up in his own peculiar experience are enlarged to include the 
 experience of the race. The ideational resources of the indi- 
 vidual come to correspond to those of society. 
 
 SECTION 28. The evolution of judgment 
 
 The evolution of judgment, as distinguished from that of Preliminary 
 ideas, is essentially a matter of becoming conscious of the 
 process of ideational readjustment, with a consequent addition n judg- 
 to its effectiveness. One comes to realize what thinking is and 
 means, and as a result thinks better. To become rational many 
 factors and processes must be made the subject of attention. 
 As we have seen, one must make the distinction between mere 
 plans of action and the standards to which these must be sub- 
 mitted. The standards themselves must be ranged in the 
 order of their relative importance, and the principles by which 
 they are brought to bear upon plans exploited. Again, the 
 reasoning attitudes must be brought before the focus of atten- 
 tion. One must realize the importance of experimentation 
 both in thought and action, if one is to get adequate material 
 upon which judgment may be exercised. One must become 
 critical; that is, aware of the importance of caution and delib- 
 eration in making up one's mind. 
 
 The process of ideational readjustment may be said to take ideational 
 two forms: First, ideas may inhibit or reenforce each other; 
 
 second, they may combine with and modify each other. b .y 
 
 Ideas are inhibited by being banished from the attention, very enforce- 
 
 much as impulses are eliminated when their results are unsatis- ment of 
 
 1 impulses ; 
 
 factory. The perception or the idea of a disagreeable conse-
 
 236 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (2) by syn- 
 thesis of 
 impulses 
 
 Conflict of 
 physical 
 impulses 
 the fore- 
 runner of 
 ideational 
 struggle 
 
 quence that may be supposed to follow the carrying out of a 
 certain idea will tend to rob it of motive force ; or, what is 
 the same thing, to drive it from attention. Similarly, when 
 the perceived or thought consequence is agreeable, the sug- 
 gesting idea will be confirmed in the possession of attention, 
 at any rate until it initiates action, and further developments 
 make necessary new thought and action. If one were enter- 
 taining the thought of calling upon a friend, the perception 
 that he was passing along the street might inhibit or corrob- 
 orate one's purpose according to whether the friend were going 
 toward or away from his home. Again, the perception that 
 his friend was going away from home might not destroy the 
 purpose of meeting him, but merely modify the method of 
 realizing it. Instead of going to the friend's home, one might 
 go to the place whither he is supposed to be bound. Here we 
 would have an illustration of the synthesis of mental data, 
 with a corresponding coordination of movements. Both forms 
 of ideational readjustment are constantly illustrated in per- 
 ceptual control. Moreover, the higher mental processes may 
 be analyzed into similar inhibitions, reinforcements, or corre- 
 lations. The idea of a new related datum may affect a pur- 
 pose quite as much as the perception of a new fact. One's 
 purpose to call on a friend will persist, disappear, or be modi- 
 fied by the thought of the possible or probable movements of 
 the friend during the day. 
 
 The forerunner of ideational resolution or readjustment is 
 to be found in the conflicts and reinforcements of many mus- 
 cular movements set in motion simultaneously. We have 
 seen that the primary condition of readjustment is inhibition 
 of some movements in order that others may be experimented 
 with. Such inhibition may, however, be only partial, and 
 the new movements may not be suffered to usurp absolutely 
 the control of the body. Partial inhibition means the possi-
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 237 
 
 by the feel- 
 ing of re- 
 sults to 
 control by 
 the antici- 
 pation of 
 these 
 
 bility of many conflicting impulses. The arm and hand of Cran- 
 mer, thrust into the flames in order that it may be consumed 
 before the rest of his body, is not mildly compliant to the will 
 of the sufferer. It is tense with the conflict of muscles which 
 are commanded by various stimuli to do very different things. 
 Such movements may, however, tend not to destroy each other 
 but to combine, as in the coordinations of balancing, walking, rid- 
 ing a bicycle, etc. Here many movements are aroused and enter 
 into interplay, with the result that none is ultimately banished, 
 but an adjustment is reached in which each performs a service. 
 
 The final outcome of such intramuscular struggle is, of course, From control 
 under the control of the feeling and the apprehension of results. 
 Where cognition has little material by which a suitable synthe- 
 sis of movements can be worked out beforehand, the various 
 impulses are not very effectively inhibited, but rather are per- 
 mitted to work out their own destiny in the overt results. 
 When, however, ideas become more in evidence, the progress 
 of impulses into movement tends more and more to be checked. 
 These impulses flow into ideas, which struggle toward a read- 
 justment that may constitute a basis for a fairly effective coor- 
 dination of movement. Thus, as blind experimentation be- 
 comes replaced more and more by ideational experimentation, 
 specific stimuli become in new situations less and less likely to 
 result in immediate movements. One ceases to be impulsive, 
 and grows thoughtful, deliberate, at any rate when one is deal- 
 ing with an emergency. However, the study of involuntary 
 movements shows that we probably never reach a state in 
 which impulses get no immediate expression in movements. 
 The tendency toward speech as we carry on a train of thought 
 is evidence of the strength of the primal association between 
 muscles and any disturbance in the nervous system. 
 
 We have already treated perceptual control as involving 
 a transition from the selection of impulses by feeling of
 
 2 3 8 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Alertness as 
 indicative 
 of the be- 
 ginning of 
 ideational 
 control 
 
 Internal 
 factors af- 
 fecting the 
 result of 
 the strug- 
 gle of in- 
 terpreta- 
 tions 
 
 results to selection by cognitive anticipation of these. The 
 characteristics of the perceptual state may be summed up as 
 follows: Inhibition of impulses combines with clearer cogni- 
 tion to bring about a mental conflict of interpretations, a sense 
 of ambiguity or uncertainty concerning the nature of the sit- 
 uation and the proper response. The outcome of this is alert- 
 ness, which is directed toward any data that may clear up the 
 ambiguity. Such data may come from the development of 
 the situation, the mere progress of events, while the perceiving 
 animal remains observant, but otherwise passive. They may, 
 however, be sought by experimental movements, the aim of 
 which is to obtain material for an ideational resolution of the 
 ambiguities involved. The data thus gathered together inter- 
 act in the ways just described. The suggestions that spring 
 from them corroborate each other, or render each other unten- 
 able, or, perhaps, combine to suggest an interpretation in 
 which the presence of each is recognizable. 
 
 In addition to the data furnished by the external senses, 
 other factors springing from within the organism cooperate to 
 determine the outcome of the mental process we are consider- 
 ing. Temperament, feeling, habit, all tend to sway the inter- 
 pretation in the directions that they favor. A hungry animal 
 would prefer for a doubtful case the interpretation, food, 
 rather than any other. An animal timid, either from disposi- 
 tion or from temporary condition, will incline toward an inter- 
 pretation that smacks of danger. After the external senses 
 have given all the evidence that one can expect from them, 
 there still remains in many cases several possible interpreta- 
 tions for an object, each of which fits one of a number of 
 possible internal conditions of the perceiving organism. 
 What sort of a being a man is to a wolf depends very much 
 on the way the wolf feels at the time, or what sort of a wolf 
 it may chance to be.
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 239 
 
 The struggle among interpretations in perception is essen- 
 tially a struggle for the control of attention. The attention 
 cannot concentrate except by eliminating all save coherent 
 interpretations. The correlation of data that perception 
 seeks is a felt coherence, not a distinctly apprehended one. Its 
 logic is therefore the logic of feeling and habit. The feeling 
 involved is that third type which we have described 1 as ac- 
 companying the struggle of impulses or ideas. So long as the 
 conflict remains, one feels uncomfortable. Pleasure springs 
 from reconciliation, from concentration. The feeling of co- 
 herence is partly a toleration of interpretations that have 
 habitually gone together without misdirecting action in appre- 
 ciable ways, partly a dawning sense of logical coherence that 
 may replace or corroborate the synthesis of habit. The feeling 
 of logical coherence cannot get an opportunity to display 
 much if any influence on the course of thought unless the 
 paths of habit are checked. It is in the ideation which follows 
 such a check that the vague sense of logical relationship which 
 we have called the logic of feeling gets a chance to disintegrate 
 and reconstruct the associations of habit. 
 
 We are now in a position to distinguish sharply three lines 
 along which judgment develops. They are as follows : (i) 
 the growth of the attitude of mental experimentation ; (2) the 
 growth of evaluated and evaluating thought material ; (3) the 
 growth of the critical attitude. The attitude of mental ex- 
 perimentation is that which we have described as originality. 
 It is the attitude which throws one into the position of accu- 
 mulating material for ideational readjustment. The first 
 form of such experimental activity we have described as re- 
 lated to perception, although it extends to reasoning as well. 
 It is activity roused in doubtful or new situations, and directed 
 toward obtaining new sense data by which the nature of the 
 
 1 Compare 24. 
 
 The control 
 of atten- 
 tion by the 
 logic of 
 habit and 
 feeling 
 
 Three factors 
 in the 
 growth of 
 judgment, 
 (i) Growth 
 of mental 
 experimen- 
 tation. Its 
 relation to 
 originality. 
 The search 
 for new 
 sense data
 
 240 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The search 
 for rele- 
 vant ideas 
 
 Relation of 
 originality 
 to cogni- 
 tive re- 
 sources 
 and to the 
 critical 
 attitude 
 
 situation and the proper response may be discovered. One 
 moves about, thus gaining a different point of view. A variety 
 of senses are brought to bear upon the situation. One may 
 seek the point of view of others as indicated by their actions. 
 Indeed, the first resort of the socially dependent being is to 
 the interpretations of authoritative companions. 
 
 Such experimentation becomes supplemented by the activity 
 of imagination and reason. These powers surround the appre- 
 hension of the situation by a multitude of ideas that are di- 
 vorced from present sensations and may be only remotely 
 associated therewith. The interrelations of such material 
 enable one to arrive at results which reflect upon the present 
 situation such meaning as to enable a decision about the proper 
 mode of treating it. The attitude that summons forth such 
 material is just as truly an experimental one as is that which 
 stimulates the search for new sense data. Indeed, the two 
 attitudes ordinarily combine. One thinks out reflectively 
 such consequences of a certain interpretation as may be tested 
 by critical observations of the senses. My friend whom I 
 wish to interview is found to be away from home. I wonder 
 where he has gone, and call up among others the conjecture 
 that he is bound for a certain railroad station. This idea 
 satisfies my sense of coherence. I recall further that my 
 friend's office lies on the way to the station, and that he is likely 
 to drop in there as he passes. It then occurs to me that I 
 may catch him there by telephoning. This I do, and thus 
 resort to a sensory test to verify or overthrow the conclusions 
 of mere thought. 
 
 The attitude that favors the resort to new sensations or 
 ideas in the endeavor to experiment toward a solution of an 
 emergency is the attitude of originality. It becomes more 
 active as one becomes conscious of the value of such experi- 
 mentation and accustomed to resort to it. Originality bears,
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 241 
 
 of course, the closest relation, on the one hand, to cognitive re- 
 sources and, on the other, to the critical attitude that by its 
 dissatisfactions forces readjustment. The attitude of mental 
 experiment is favored by such an organization of resources as 
 promotes recall. Hence the organization of experience by 
 selective correlating processes, since it associates this material 
 in permanent, logical, and practically useful ways, is an im- 
 portant asset of originality. Nothing, however, can defi- 
 nitely replace that attitude of mental adventure, or unrest, of 
 desire to know as well as to do and to be mentally as well as 
 physically active, without which the resources and the sense 
 of the emergency would fail of producing their most fruitful 
 results. 
 
 The second factor that contributes to the rise of judgment 
 is the growth of evaluating materials. The perceptions and 
 ideas that come into the mind must range themselves accord- 
 ing to reliability and desirability, and we must become con- 
 scious of these values, the reasons for assigning them, and the 
 logical methods by which the comparisons and syntheses of 
 ideational readjustment are brought about. 
 
 The consciousness of values may be said to begin with the 
 mere sense of the newness of certain situations which stimulates 
 mental activity in regard to them. As one's power to feel and 
 to cognize the unusual grows, he becomes capable of initiating 
 thought processes without waiting for the rough shocks of 
 failure that come from reacting to these situations automat- 
 ically. The consciousness of the new, the strange, is the sim- 
 plest form of the standard. It means that which as yet is un- 
 certain, unsolved, the problematic as contrasted with the 
 habitual. The train of thought provoked by the apprehen- 
 sion of an emergency is apt to involve perceptions or ideas 
 which are fairly familiar and suggest responses that are in a 
 measure habitual. At first the determination of which of 
 
 (2) Growth 
 of evalu- 
 ated and 
 evaluating 
 ideas 
 
 The sense of 
 novelty as 
 the simplest 
 form of the 
 standard
 
 242 Principles of Education 
 
 these ideas shall gain the upper hand and control action is 
 largely a matter of habit and feeling. Moreover, the re- 
 sources of thinking are at first so meager that such ideas as 
 appear are likely to be descriptive of very common experiences 
 which are very like or very closely associated with the present 
 emergency. It follows that whatever action they suggest is 
 likely to prevail. The issue of the applicability of such ideas 
 to the situation in hand is not raised. Only such as have ap- 
 plicability are likely to get into the mind. 
 
 The grading But as the resources of intelligence increase in number and 
 cording to*" var i et y, it becomes increasingly possible to have ideas, which, 
 relative however suggestive they may be of desirable consequences, 
 and prac- are not practicable in the present situation. If this situation 
 ticabiiity ^ we jj exploited by the mind, any idea that aspires to control 
 will have to be coherent with the mental context constructed 
 through such exploitation. It must, therefore, be not only a 
 desirable idea but a practicable one ; and practicability means 
 not only agreement with fact in general, but also coherence 
 with the present situation. To a hungry cow the idea of 
 green pastures would be alluring, but the wisdom of being con- 
 trolled by such an idea would depend both on the existence of 
 its object and the possibility of reaching this from the present 
 location. 
 
 Grading by An individual capable of having many ideas which vary in 
 feeling*"" their value as guides for action will inevitably come to exercise 
 some sort of selection among these. If an idea is never useful, 
 one may be sure that it will be eliminated altogether ; that 
 is, will be forgotten. Such ideas as are useful occasionally and 
 according to circumstances will tend to be recalled. When 
 they do appear, it is necessary for the mind to determine in 
 some way whether they represent a satisfactory combination 
 of the desirable and the practicable. At first this determina- 
 tion is to reiterate an oft-repeated idea largely a matter
 
 Conscious Learning 243 
 
 of feeling. One feels that a certain idea represents a more satis- 
 factory feasible plan of action than any other before attention. 
 Such feelings are partly a result of trial and error learning, and 
 so represent habitual ways of thinking. In part, however, 
 they are the result of a sense of relationships, not quite clearly 
 apprehended, which are able, as we have seen, to reorganize 
 associations, in ways different from those of habit. An idea 
 of the attractiveness of going home that would habitually 
 start movement in that direction might in a strange place and 
 after a long journey be negatived by a sense of the futility of 
 any effort to return there. Here habit is nullified because it 
 does not fit in with the prevailing context of thought. 
 
 The feeling of coherence is itself dependent upon the extent The con- 
 to which the standard by which it is determined has been es- o^* 11658 
 tablished in the mind. To an individual with little or no sense standards 
 of distance, direction, and general spatial arrangement, the ancTVtL 
 idea of home would be just as likely to evoke an endeavor to go Iaws of co ' 
 
 herence 
 
 thither when one has traveled so great a distance as to make 
 return impracticable as it would when one gets into a some- 
 what strange place in the immediate neighborhood of his abode. 
 A little child might start for the desired haven without any 
 appreciation of the relative possibility or impossibility of get- 
 ting there. One with more experience might merely feel the 
 impracticability of such action, without, however, knowing 
 just why it should be so. The development of the concepts 
 connected with space means that one has a basis by which 
 judgment is able to determine in a clearly conscious way the 
 practicability of many movements, and to guide them, if they 
 are feasible, to a successful conclusion. 
 
 The growth of evaluated and evaluating materials has been Summary of 
 traced through the following steps : (i) the mere sense of [{^growth 
 strangeness that makes one aware of an emergency ; (2) the of the 
 sense of relative desirability and practicability among com- ^"values
 
 244 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The empiri- 
 cal and 
 logical 
 tests of 
 truth 
 
 peting ideas that depends upon habit and felt coherence with 
 certain standards of thought rather than upon a clear conscious- 
 ness of the reasons upon which preferences are based ; (3) the 
 definite consciousness of logical procedure. In general, the 
 standard of judgment is that consistent system into which ex- 
 perience persistently falls. We have in this standard two 
 factors, consistency and persistence, which constitute the es- 
 sence of all tests for truth. The system of knowledge must 
 hang together, and there must be no exceptions to its con- 
 stituent principles. When these characteristics of truth are 
 brought to consciousness, we become aware of the essential 
 principles of logical procedure ; we apply consciously what 
 may be called the empirical and the logical tests of truth. The 
 empirical standard of truth means that whatever is true must 
 agree with experience; that is, it must be founded on experience 
 and be verified by experience. It must persist. The logical 
 standard means that whatever is true must cohere with every- 
 thing else that is true. It must be consistent. 
 
 The empirical test finds its simplest form in the processes 
 of trial and error learning by which habits are formed. When 
 it first rises into consciousness, it is as an appeal to the cus- 
 tomary, the traditional, that which is authoritative because it 
 has stood the test of practice. Any idea that can get the sup- 
 port of custom and precedent at once has an extraordinary 
 advantage in the struggle to capture judgment. The empirical 
 test antedates the logical one. It comes up to ideational read- 
 justment from simpler forms of learning, whereas the logical 
 test finds no use except in a struggle among ideas. The hab- 
 its of an organism must cohere in so far as they cross each other's 
 paths. Otherwise they could not work. But incoherences 
 among habits are corrected not by an awareness of their incon- 
 sistency, but by the failure that springs from their inability 
 to work together. We learn to coordinate our habits, because
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 245 
 
 otherwise they would be ineffective. Thus at this stage of 
 learning the empirical test is the only one necessary. What- 
 ever conforms to it must be as consistent as the demands of 
 practice require. 
 
 In perceptual readjustment the logical test appears in the 
 corroborations and contradictions of the data that come from 
 the various senses while one is exploiting the nature of a situ- 
 ation. In this process the datum that fails to cohere with the 
 mass of evidence is eliminated. However, some data may 
 be more weighty than others. Some animals trust to smell 
 as a final authoritative test. Touch usually has precedence 
 over sight, while sound is more frequently suggestive merely 
 of the presence of something that should be attended to than 
 determinative of its nature. The establishment of relative 
 authoritativeness among the senses, so far as this takes place 
 in the lifetime of the individual, is a matter of experience and 
 habit, and so of the empirical test. 
 
 A second phase of the logical test appears in social inter- 
 course. Even before the advent of articulate speech, animals 
 get their cues as to how they should interpret situations, and 
 what should in consequence be done, from observing the actions 
 of companions. When speech appears, the resort to the con- 
 sensus of opinion becomes the dominant form of logic. The 
 true becomes the socially accepted. Wherever conflict arises 
 among opinions, there relative weight is determined, as it is 
 with the data of the senses, by the appeal to experience, to 
 practical success, and so to custom or the empirical test. The 
 opinion of the majority will, other things being equal, have the 
 greater weight, but individuals may gain precedence by the 
 same process by which habits are formed. 
 
 When memory becomes strong enough to grasp a great mass 
 of ideas in addition to the present data of sense, the logical 
 problem first comes clearly before consciousness. One re- 
 
 The logical 
 test as co- 
 herence 
 with au- 
 thoritative 
 sense data ; 
 
 as social 
 accepta- 
 bility
 
 246 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The rise of 
 
 standards 
 of truth; 
 
 ment, iaw 
 
 of nature, 
 
 etc. 
 
 members many cases in which coherence was attained among 
 various data and by a variety of methods. He distinguishes 
 these methods of logical procedure, and compares them from 
 tne point of view of relative effectiveness. The question is 
 ra ised as to the propriety of accepting the verdict of the ma- 
 
 . 
 
 jonty, or the customary domination of the data of this sense 
 or of the opinions of that individual. Certain principles of 
 judgment emerge, themselves clarified and justified by the 
 experiments and verifications of practice, yet serving to dis- 
 countenance any specific custom or precedent that fails to har- 
 monize with them. Thus, having reached a notion of what 
 is possible in the way of spatial arrangement, one would dis- 
 credit any evidence, no matter how authoritative, that 
 tended to put two things in the same place at the same time. 
 We reach the conception of laws of nature, and, as Hume 
 declares, no mere testimony could convince us that they have 
 been violated. The notion of one's personality arises with its 
 background of experience, all of which must be arranged con- 
 sistently in a time series and according to the probabilities of 
 the history of a life. Such a systematic self-consciousness 
 becomes the basis for testing the truth of any idea that con- 
 cerns it. Memory is, as we have seen, largely a reconstruc- 
 tion, through the sense of relations, of that which is consistent 
 with the general system of past things in the history of the 
 race or of the individual. 1 Memory proper, or the ideas that 
 one has of his own specific past, is largely a product of such 
 reconstruction. Thus the standards of thought are a basis, 
 not only for eliminating the ideas that do not apply to the so- 
 lution of any specific mental problem, as, for example, knowing 
 one's past, but also for suggesting ideas that are pertinent, but 
 would otherwise be unthought. 
 
 The standards of thinking include all the categories that we 
 1 Compare 27.
 
 Conscious Learning 
 
 247 
 
 ultimate 
 standards 
 upon tra- 
 dition and 
 authority 
 
 have mentioned as the objects of the consciousness of relations. 
 As part of the machinery of judgment they represent not mere 
 relations that we think about, but also the valuation that is 
 placed by thought upon these. Space, time, the relations of 
 qualitative consistency, of quantitative consistency, of causal- 
 ity, etc., make up a set of conditions to which the contents of 
 thought must conform, if they are true. Through them laws 
 of nature and the objects of the physical and mental world are 
 fixed in definite places in that system of reality which consti- 
 tutes the standard to which all judgment refers. 
 
 The elevation into clear consciousness of these logical rela- Reaction of 
 tions makes possible the weeding out of an enormous number edge oT 
 of opinions that prevail because they result in action that is, 
 on the whole, rather beneficial than the contrary. Such 
 opinions may be said to be sanctioned by the empirical test. 
 They work in practice, although for reasons quite different 
 from what their believers suppose. Such persons may confuse 
 one fact with another that is likely to accompany it. In the 
 cure of disease one is apt to attribute to the medicine that 
 which is really due to the regimen that accompanies its use. 
 If an opinion is widely entertained in society, one is apt to 
 suffer consequences that are at least disagreeable if he be skep- 
 tical about it. Thus the idea works in practice because so- 
 ciety compels it to. Authority cannot make a false belief, 
 but it can make the part of prudence to be the acceptance of 
 the falsehood. These inconsistencies in the judgment which 
 is based on the empirical test alone begin to be weeded out 
 when the individual man gets a wider array of facts and a 
 firmer grip on the principles of consistency. Thus both the 
 man and the race pass from an age of custom, tradition, and 
 authority over to one of criticism, argument, and individual- 
 ism. The beliefs that are sanctioned by habit and conven- 
 tion are found not to be consistent. They are subjected to a
 
 248 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 ca forth 
 logical test 
 
 ruthless process of selection, in which many disappear. At 
 such times the prevalent emphasis upon the principles of log- 
 ical coherence is apt to cause them to be elevated above the 
 empirical test of truth. It is assumed that mere thinking, 
 empin " without reference to experience or practice, will give truth. 
 Thus Greek philosophy soon came to the conclusion that the 
 senses gave only contradiction and illusion, and that reason 
 alone could attain the reality. They exalted the principle of 
 consistency to such an extent that they conceived the world of 
 ordinary experience and practice not to be worthy of study 
 or interest because they did not find it capable of a ready formu- 
 lation in a coherent system of thought. Thus the reason that 
 was in the first instance invoked as a guide to practice asserted 
 its supremacy by denying the significance and worth of any 
 practice except that which took no account of worldly conse- 
 quences; that is, of concrete human experience. The em- 
 pirical test was swept away. 
 
 In the return movement toward empiricism the logical tests 
 have often been underrated. We have never gone back to blind 
 traditionalism, but in our logical discussion we have sometimes 
 assumed that experience and not thinking, practice and not 
 reflection, are the sources of knowledge. But knowledge is an 
 adjunct of conscious learning, and not of readjustment by 
 mere practice, or trial and error. It is that consistent system 
 of thought which springs, not from experience alone, but from 
 experience organized by logic and so capable of anticipating 
 the results of practice. The empirical test is the basis of all 
 learning, but without the cooperation of logic we cannot have 
 conscious learning. In the consciousness of the interrelation 
 of these two standards judgment comes to appreciate its true 
 function. 
 
 This appreciation enables the mind to attain the highest 
 form of the critical attitude. We may call this the attitude 
 
 Fallacy of 
 underrat- 
 ing the 
 logical test
 
 Conscious Learning 249 
 
 of deliberation. Criticism begins with inhibition, and in- (3) Growth of 
 hibition which at first is founded upon positive failure, but attitude * 
 later in evolution comes to be stirred up by the sense of nov- 
 elty in a situation, so that one hesitates and investigates or 
 reflects before he acts. Thus there appears that alertness 
 which we have already emphasized as a phase of the attitude 
 of originality. Corresponding to it is the critical attitude of 
 doubt. As the fund of ideas grows, it comes to be supple- 
 mented more and more by reflectiveness which is sustained by 
 the sense of inconclusiveness. When the meaning of logical 
 procedure has been clearly grasped, these attitudes attain the 
 form of deliberation. The attitude of deliberation means that 
 one is fully aware of the principles upon which judgment is 
 based and will not decide until conformity to them has been 
 reached. This does not mean that decision must wait a plan 
 that is entirely satisfactory. If deliberation be always car- 
 ried to that extreme, it may reach indecision. It is only nec- 
 essary that one should have the power to reflect as long as re- 
 flection is likely to be profitable rather than injurious, and 
 that decision should fix upon that plan which, all things con- 
 sidered, is the wisest that has been suggested. 
 
 Judgment, then, reaches its highest form in deliberate rea- Summary 
 soning. This section may, therefore, be summarized by a Description 
 description of reasoning, in which the process of evolution 
 that we have traced culminates. Reasoning means a pause 
 of reflection. The critical attitude is alive, and roused by the 
 sense of an emergency, the mind has thrown itself into an 
 attitude of experimentation, of original endeavor. Experi- 
 mental perception may supply a mass of data. Experimental 
 ideation supplements, perhaps swamps this with its own prod- 
 ucts. At any rate we have a mass of material struggling for 
 attention. Professor Titchener calls this material an "ag- 
 gregate idea." The process of reasoning involves the logical
 
 250 Principles of Education 
 
 resolution of the aggregate idea into a coherent decision, that 
 can satisfactorily to judgment seize and hold the attention. 
 Moreover, to have reasoning we must be conscious of this logic ; 
 there must be apprehended and not merely felt coherence. 
 This means that the aggregate idea must be clearly separated 
 into ideas that are evaluated in reference to their desirability 
 and practicability, and ideas that have as yet to pass through 
 the process of evaluation before they can be applied to the 
 present emergency. There must be standards and plans. The 
 standards must include a mass of facts about things, persons, 
 places, events in the history of the physical, social, and mental 
 worlds, laws of nature, all gathered together in what may 
 be called the system of reality. These facts have been evalu- 
 ated by previous processes of thought. They have satisfied, 
 in a measure at least, both the empirical and the logical tests 
 of truth, and their relative standing in the system of reality is 
 in proportion to the extent to which these tests have been ap- 
 plied and met. Further, the standards must embrace a clear 
 consciousness of the principles of coherence, such as those of 
 space and time and the categories of logic, so that when new 
 ideas are judged one may know not only that with which they 
 are compared, but also the principles that underlie the process 
 of comparison. Especially must one realize the relative im- 
 portance and specific functions of the empirical and the log- 
 ical tests of truth. Otherwise, that which has the better em- 
 pirical proof may be rejected because of logical inconsistency 
 with what has an inferior justification from practice. Finally, 
 the critical attitude, strengthened by a consciousness of the 
 value of reasoning and its mechanism, must assert its sway so 
 effectively that no decision is reached that is not a product of 
 conscious assent, and of the conviction that reflection has done 
 its best under the circumstances.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE EDUCATION OF THE REASON 
 
 SECTION 29. General problem of educating the reason 
 
 THE culmination of the evolution of education is in the edu- 
 cation of the reason. In its simplest form education makes 
 simply for readjustment in the individual. When, with the 
 evolution of rejuvenation and of society, a problem of saving 
 acquired characters and social heredity arises, education as- 
 sumes this function and becomes recapitulatory, conservative, 
 readjusting the individual, but preserving the existing adjust- 
 ments of the race. Finally, however, there appears in the 
 individual a capacity to readjust that seems capable of pre- 
 serving itself against the encroachments of habit. With the 
 growth of this function its potency is brought more and more 
 clearly to the attention of men, and education gradually in- 
 terests itself more and more in the endeavor to foster so effec- 
 tive an instrument. Rationality stands out as the primary 
 aim of culture. The school ceases to think mainly of definite 
 adjustment, and comes to emphasize especially that power 
 to readjust which may rightly be regarded as the most valu- 
 able quality the man may have. 
 
 That it is possible to educate the reason is a common as- 
 sumption. Yet it is not easy to demonstrate the success of 
 modern endeavors in that direction. Education that aims to 
 create habits, either of action or of thought, with an eye to their 
 specific efficiency, can without great difficulty appraise the re- 
 sults of its efforts. It is easy to see when the habits are formed, 
 
 251 
 
 Evolution 
 from re- 
 capitula- 
 tory to ra- 
 tional edu- 
 cation 
 
 Paradoxical 
 nature of 
 the train- 
 ing of the 
 reason
 
 252 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Rationality 
 
 urai ten- 
 vary 
 
 and not very hard to estimate their utility. But since reason 
 is invoked only in new situations, and these by the very nature 
 of the case are unexpected, a preparation for reasoning seems 
 paradoxical. Indeed, it would appear that he who reasons 
 well simply utilizes in unusual ways what he learned primarily 
 for other uses. In other words, what was cultivated in him 
 was specific efficiency, and education must rely solely upon 
 inborn talent for the adaptation of such resources to the un- 
 foreseen. Even if resources could be acquired merely be- 
 cause of the vague hope that on some occasion they might be 
 utilized, the process would seem like wanton waste when so 
 much is to be learned that makes for definite uses as well as 
 merely possible ones. 
 
 Paradoxical as the education of the reason may seem, it in- 
 - v l ves merely an attempt consciously to affect factors which 
 are everywhere in evidence, as the basis of power to readjust. 
 When nature would readapt a species to its environment, 
 nothing can be done unless the stock in question possesses the 
 power to vary, whether that power be displayed orthogeneti- 
 cally, heterogenetically, or in mere chance variations. If an 
 individual is to learn, he must have, as we have seen, a resource- 
 ful action system, and this includes not only power to do 
 many things, but also the ability to do them in response to 
 situations which they were not designed to meet. Thus 
 when we come to consciousness and to reason, we do not find 
 any exception to the general rule in the fact that the founda- 
 tion of these functions should lie in resources which derive 
 their origin from no specific attempt to perform the tasks to 
 which later they are found to be so well adapted. Readjust- 
 ment is invariably a process of selection among materials that 
 have been, for the most part, in use in other connections, and 
 were all originally the outcome of an innate potentiality of 
 creation.
 
 The Education of the Reason 253 
 
 This inner potentiality does not seem, however, to be utterly Examples of 
 beyond the influence of directive agencies. There is at times ** c ~ { 
 
 about the variation of species and the accumulation of re- of this ten- 
 sources by individuals what appears like an appropriate prep- 
 aration for the emergencies that are to be. The expansion of 
 inner powers seems here not to be a mere chance affair, but 
 orthogenetic. We have seen that the selective process has a 
 reaction upon the power to readjust along dependent lines of 
 development. The selective encouragement of growth in a 
 certain direction means the development of a tendency to fur- 
 ther growth along the same line, or of a form that can readily 
 vary further in the same general way. Well-selected habits 
 are a basis for new habits formed by coordinating them. The 
 action system of man is, doubtless, by ages of selection emi- 
 nently well fitted for the greatest variety of those emergencies 
 that are likely to arise in his environment. In the field of 
 consciousness the same fact is clearly illustrated. The pro- 
 cess of selection by which perceptual interpretations are fixed, 
 images discriminated, and ideas of relation abstracted is a 
 source of extraordinary gain to the resources of thinking. 
 Everywhere, then, the accumulation of resources seems to 
 receive positive guidance from the processes that have deter- 
 mined the value of similar resources in the past. And if 
 selection does not guide positively, it may do so negatively. 
 It may, by eliminating those who vary in certain directions, 
 root out all but those who tend to develop in approved ones. 
 If the possibilities of development happen to be limited, the 
 destruction of some means the restriction of variation to the 
 residual direction. The logic of the disjunctive syllogism 
 here converts the denial of certain alternatives into the 
 affirmation of another, provided the potentialities of the 
 organism enable it to produce such an alternative. 
 
 It would seem, then, that nature had afforded to man an
 
 254 Principles of Education 
 
 Curiosity as example of providing with considerable selective skill ma- 
 intheac- terials characterized by availability when readjustment is 
 quisition necessary. The power of cognition is, as we have seen, merely 
 
 of the most . . , , 
 
 useful ex- a saving of what may prove worth while in conscious learn- 
 
 penence j n g jj u j. attention and cognition instinctively direct them- 
 selves to points that are, on the whole, likely to be involved in 
 the later problems of the mind. The instinct of curiosity 
 seems to have no other utility than this of provoking atten- 
 tion and the accumulation of knowledge about things in 
 anticipation of its actual use. Curiosity seems to cling to 
 the other instincts, especially to such as in their nature or in 
 the methods by which they are satisfied are likely to be affected 
 by variable conditions. It is, of course, especially aroused 
 when one fails to gain one's instinctive wants. However, we 
 are curious about that which has as yet offered no problem of 
 readjustment to any other instinct except that of curiosity. 
 Moreover, the extent of our curiosity in any field is not in 
 proportion to the immediacy of the need of readjustment 
 therein. Thus the instinct develops apparently to provide 
 a permanent interest in the accumulation of that sort of 
 knowledge which is on the whole most useful in new situations. 
 Through it the process of gathering experience is not left to 
 the direction of chance emergencies, but goes on along broader 
 lines. One learns more than is necessary for the moment, and 
 about things which at the moment are of no practical concern 
 except that one wants to learn them. 
 
 Methods by The education of the reason means a conscious endeavor 
 Nation can to supplement and to guide the work done under the influence 
 assist^ O f the instinct of curiosity. Curiosity enlarges the circle of 
 interests, and thus leads to a broader, more reliable equipment 
 of knowledge than would spring from the emergencies of the 
 other instincts. Education can seize these interests and ex- 
 pand them. It can exercise supervision over the kind of ex- 
 
 reason
 
 The Education of the Reason 255 
 
 perience that the young obtain, to see that it is fundamental 
 and not merely incidental, that it is universal rather than par- 
 ticular, and that it is comprehensive and not confined to a 
 special field. It can direct attention toward organizing this 
 knowledge in ways most likely to promote recall in new situa- 
 tions. It can cultivate the attitude of invoking this knowl- 
 edge, and the power of applying it critically. Thus man by 
 his conscious effort carries on the work of nature in providing 
 material for learning. The selective control of the process of 
 acquiring experience renders its results far more widely useful 
 for reasoning than if they have been gained at haphazard. 
 To deny that one can educate the reason means that here the 
 elevation into consciousness of a process that hitherto has 
 been carried on by merely natural forces shall fail of bringing 
 with it the gain in effectiveness that usually accompanies this 
 step in evolution. 
 
 As a preliminary to a more specific treatment of our topic, TWO general 
 two general principles regarding the training of the reason may 
 
 be laid down. In the first place, since the materials for reason- the culture 
 
 ing are gained in the course of effecting readjustments, their reason: 
 
 acquisition is for the most part merely incidental to the pur- ( J ) Pr cess 
 
 pose immediately in hand when they are acquired. It follows portant 
 
 that for the culture of the reason process becomes of more im- 
 
 portance than product, reasons are of greater concern than 
 
 the conclusions that we derive from them, and the description 
 
 of a situation is of more ultimate value than the habit of deal- 
 
 ing with it effectively. We learn habits in spite of our mis- 
 
 takes; we learn to reason because of them. The comprehen- 
 
 sion of that in the situation which makes a certain response 
 
 effective, and of that which in other responses is the ground 
 
 of their failure, is what makes it possible for any piece of learn- 
 
 ing to be a source of thinking power in future situations that 
 
 are different but possess like elements.
 
 256 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Definite 
 nature of 
 the results 
 of atten- 
 tion to the 
 process of 
 learning 
 
 Attention to 
 process and 
 the culture 
 of the logi- 
 cal atti- 
 tudes 
 
 (2) Mental 
 enrichment 
 should 
 precede 
 training in 
 the logical 
 attitudes 
 
 By saying that for the culture of the reason process becomes 
 of more importance than product, it is not meant to empha- 
 size any mere abstract power of reasoning that may be sup- 
 posed to result from this process. On the contrary, the re- 
 sults that attention to the process of learning bring are quite 
 as definite, as concrete, and as positive as are the habits of 
 thought or action at which the learning process immediately 
 aims. The knowledge of the reason why three times four are 
 twelve is as definite a matter as is the fact itself. If one wishes 
 to know this product, the habit of thought and action which 
 mechanically yields it does not gain in effectiveness from the 
 knowledge of its reason. If, however, one desires to attain a 
 new product or to verify the dicta of mechanical memory, 
 these reasons become of prime importance. They are definite 
 resources of great value in dealing with new situations. 
 
 In addition to this great mass of descriptive and explanatory 
 knowledge that springs from attention to the process, we gain 
 from this same source in power to take the logical attitudes. 
 One gets in the habit of thinking, and with that goes a gain in 
 the tendency to be both original and critical in dealing with 
 new situations. Here again it is intended to maintain that 
 one gains not any vague abstract power, but rather a very 
 definite mass of habits and emotions that determine the direc- 
 tion of attention and the activities of thinking. The nature 
 of these and the methods of cultivating them will be taken up 
 in a special section. 
 
 The second general principle regarding the culture of the 
 reason is that everywhere the acquisition of materials should 
 precede the endeavor to arouse the logical attitudes. It is 
 evident that the boldness of originality will quickly be tamed 
 into the commonplace if one has no resources for it to summon 
 forth. Herein lies no danger and no need of caution, except 
 to warn the teacher that original creations should not be ex-
 
 The Education of the Reason 257 
 
 pected to spring, like a bolt from the blue, out of empty minds. 
 But it is different regarding the critical attitude. The edu- 
 cation of a child may begin with inhibitions, and may continue 
 to emphasise them at the expense of positive thought and ac- 
 tion. Necessary as is the critical attitude, to attempt to de- 
 velop it before the child has any resources of experience to 
 criticise is to encourage a timid, hesitating, indecisive tem- 
 perament. One is paralyzed before he begins to think. Or, 
 perhaps, for lack of positive material upon which to exercise 
 its influence, the critical attitude may fail to become a real inner 
 force, and remain attached to certain external commanding 
 agencies which must be in evidence before it is displayed. In 
 matters of moral discipline this alternative is especially likely 
 to appear. The child is taught to control himself before he 
 has any substitute for what he is forbidden to do. He is thus 
 reduced to helpless passivity, or driven to invent cunning de- 
 vices to dodge the penalties that disobedience involves. In 
 any event, the control is so foreign to his active nature that he 
 never exerts it except from compulsion. The only genuine 
 control consistent with activity is the control of choice, and 
 this cannot appear until one has accumulated material upon 
 which it may act. 
 
 We may assume, then, that the reason can be cultivated. Summary 
 Paradoxical as it seems, nature offers us examples of prepar- 
 ing for the unexpected, or the emergency. She does this in 
 rejuvenation, in the capacity to learn, in cognitive conscious- 
 ness, in the instinct of curiosity. Nature even shows an ap- 
 propriateness of preparation, since what is provided as capital 
 for readjustment is found to include, on the whole, that which 
 is more likely to work than not. There is an orthogenesis 
 about the evolution of the action system. The materials of 
 social heredity are selected for the progress as well as for the 
 perfection of the individual, and curiosity displays its activity
 
 258 Principles of Education 
 
 in fields especially likely to prove fruitful of devices in sub- 
 sequent emergencies. This unconscious foresight can be bet- 
 tered by the intelligence of man in the cultivation of the reason. 
 In that task the process becomes of more importance than 
 the product, for it is the reasons and the descriptions that ex- 
 plain the success of what is learned and the sources of error 
 and failure that are of use in later emergencies rather than 
 the specific adjustments at which learning immediately aims. 
 Lastly, all training of the reason should begin in the wise ac- 
 cumulation of resources and follow this by the cultivation of 
 the logical attitudes. 
 
 SECTION 30. The accumulation of mental materials 
 
 Education If we analyze the materials of reasoning into plans and stand- 
 
 begins with ar( j s ft i s evident that the acquisition of the former must pre- 
 
 developmg 
 
 resources cede the establishment of the latter. Early education is natu- 
 rally an expansion. From the physical point of view, the child 
 tries all its useful muscles and nearly all possible combinations 
 of movement. It is the wriggling age, out of which emerges 
 Criticism the possibility of varied and flexible control. From the mental 
 and should point of view, the child passes from an age of primitive curiosity, 
 not impede tna j- serve s the simpler instincts and exploits through perception 
 
 expansion 
 
 of power the world of commonest things, to an age of imagination and 
 make-believe. This is the period of rich 'efflorescence of thought, 
 out of which the child grows into a critical epoch. In this later 
 period the acceptable idea is winnowed out from the mass of 
 fancies. Truth is separated from falsehood. Memory proper 
 is differentiated from imagination. But in the rage for criti- 
 cism, for training, that is apt then to appear, the teacher 
 must beware lest the child cease to accumulate and to originate. 
 There can be no healthy mental development without constant 
 additions to the mental resources. A school that would culti-
 
 The Education of the Reason 259 
 
 vate reason must be a place of ceaseless activity, and it is more 
 important at the start that the child should be active than that 
 the activity should be approved. Herein lies the truth of 
 President Hall's insistence on the free play of all instinctive 
 activities, 1 and of Rousseau's ideal of a childhood of unrestricted 
 sport. 
 
 However, certain kinds of resources are more profitable than Experience 
 others. It cannot be said that we are left with no method of ma ^ be 
 
 made 
 
 providing for reason except by encouraging the child to acquire typical, 
 an indiscriminate mass of material. Without reference to (/the 
 specific uses, it is certain that some images, some ideas will be concept 
 far more useful in the endeavor to grasp new situations than are 
 others. Education of the reason is, as Professor McMurry 
 suggests, continually in search of the type. 2 Typical experi- 
 ence is such as proves the clew to the interpretation and treat- 
 ment of a great variety of specific emergencies. It takes, under 
 the influence of the processes of generalization and abstraction, 
 the form of the concept, which represents just that about ex- 
 perience which makes it typical ; i.e. the universal quality. 
 The concept sums up many particulars ; that is, it contains 
 that in them which is useful when applied to new situations. 
 The resources of the reason, then, consist ultimately of con- 
 cepts, which, in consequence, are the goal of such instruction 
 as aims to cultivate the reason. 3 The concept is an idea of 
 relation. It grasps together many factors that are always to 
 be found together in every case to which it applies. This is its 
 intension. Wherever we have fire, we have many things going 
 on. Heat is present, and if we come too near, we shall suffer 
 pain. Substances are being destroyed, or rather transformed 
 from solids, liquids, or gases, as the case may be, into certain 
 gases, with perhaps a residuum of ashes. We might continue 
 
 1 Compare 21. 8 Compare ibid., Ch. IV. 
 
 8 Compare The Method of the Recitation, Ch. X.
 
 260 Principles of Education 
 
 The concept the account of the intension of the concept, fire, almost in- 
 of predk 5 - 13 definitely, but it is necessary only to note that its value in pre- 
 tion, the diction, and so as a basis for dealing with new situations, de- 
 reasoning pends upon this intension. When we can safely apply the 
 concept, we can with assurance forecast the presence of the 
 various factors of the intension, even though they are not yet 
 present to observation. Thus the mind leaps ahead of the 
 given data to interpretations. The associations or relation- 
 ships which when seized and abstracted yield concepts are the 
 active dynamic principles that lead thought on. Hence they 
 are responsible for the interpretations of perception, for the 
 images and ideas that course into the mind in thinking. When 
 these relationships are generalized into concepts, one comes to 
 apprehend the principles that bind his experience together and 
 that enable ideation and conscious learning. 
 
 The abstrac- The elevation of the associations of thought into conscious- 
 tion of con- ness ^ fa e f orm o f ideas of relation, or concepts, enables their 
 
 cepts as 
 
 necessary criticism. One is made aware of the principles that govern his 
 criticism thought, and is able to test their reliability. The concept forms 
 of thinking a nucleus about which a larger and larger intension gathers, and 
 from which elements mistakenly supposed to belong to its in- 
 tension are being continually excluded. Moreover, the inten- 
 sion is gradually broken up into factors that are invariably 
 present, and factors that are only occasionally in evidence. 
 Especially important in this analysis of intension is the dis- 
 covery of those elements that can be used as criteria in apply- 
 ing the concept to new cases. These are the defining charac- 
 ters. When they are present, one can apply the corresponding 
 concept, and so add in safely any other elements of the inten- 
 sion that may prove of value in dealing with the case in hand. 
 The abstraction of the concept from the concrete cases to 
 which it applies assists in its criticism and also in its application. 
 As has been said, it represents just that in particular instances
 
 The Education of the Reason 261 
 
 which can be applied universally. Therefore its recognition, 
 criticism, and definition make available in a universal form 
 this potent agency. It is freed from the accidental associations 
 that might confuse and prevent its application where it prop- 
 erly belongs, or lead to a false use. Hence the accumulation 
 of resources for reasoning means primarily the abstraction 
 and the criticism of concepts. 
 
 There can be no question that the process of generalization Concepts to 
 makes for ability to discover in new situations something that should be 
 is familiar. On the other hand, the teacher must be careful in derived 
 
 IT i i -I -11 p from the 
 
 dealing out to the child concepts to avoid the common error of concrete 
 supposing that it is enough to impart a truth in a generalized 
 form. Here again Professor McMurry has a valuable sugges- 
 tion 1 ; namely, that only concepts that have been derived from 
 and illustrated in concrete material are properly endowed with 
 meaning and usefulness to their possessor. The truth of this 
 principle is not self-evident. Why should not the generalized 
 form be enough ? Since it is only this universal factor that can 
 be applied, one would think that in so far as it retained the evi- 
 dences of its origin from particular data it would be incum- 
 bered and confused by unessential factors, the absence of which 
 in new cases would prevent its recognition therein. 
 
 Now although facts possess value just in so far as they have Accidental 
 been or are capable of generalization, the bare abstraction is 
 perhaps quite as valueless as the mere particular. For while recall 
 it is in the form that makes it readily applicable, this form alone 
 does not render it easy to be remembered and recalled. The 
 conditions that cause any element to be revived in memory 
 are complex. It is rare, indeed, that a principle is recalled 
 when no link of resemblance save that of this common abstract 
 concept exists between the new situation and the earlier ones 
 from which the principle was derived. A physician who has 
 1 Compare Method of the Recitation.
 
 262 Principles of Education 
 
 observed in the sickroom the symptoms of a certain disease is 
 more likely to recognize the disease in a new case than if he had 
 only read about these symptoms. This is true not only be- 
 cause the actual observation impresses the symptoms upon the 
 mind, but also because the circumstances of these actual cases 
 resemble in many more points the new case than do the circum- 
 stances attendant upon reading a book or listening to a lecture. 
 One would be likely to recall book knowledge in reading new 
 books or in discussing the literature of the subject. When 
 one actually faces the concrete situation where the knowledge 
 is to be used, the ease with which he can call up his resources 
 depends directly upon the amount of similarity between the 
 total situation before him and the total situation in which his 
 knowledge was obtained. Into this total enter elements that 
 may seem to have the most accidental connection with the vital 
 principle that relates the present with the past. A mere simi- 
 larity in subjective mood may constitute a link that helps recall 
 quite as effectively as does the logical principle the application 
 of which is the function of the recollection. 
 'Total re- Professor Tames has called that type of recall in which the 
 
 call " and . . 11-11 
 
 its preva- suggested experience is brought back because of its connection 
 with all or nearly all of the present context of thought and feel- 
 ing total recall. 1 If we were to represent this context by a, b, c, 
 d, etc., among which are not only the dominant sensations, 
 images, concepts, and feelings, but also receding and rising ones, 
 then any experience that is called up not merely by the in- 
 fluence of d, but also by the help of a, b, c, etc., is a result of 
 total recall. On the other hand, if d alone, or in conjunction 
 with a small portion of the context, calls up an experience dis- 
 connected with the rest, we have partial recall. Total recall 
 means the unrestricted domination of the mechanical laws of 
 habit, which, as we have seen, constitute the original dynamic 
 
 1 Psychology (Briefer Course), Ch. XVI.
 
 The Education of the Reason 
 
 263 
 
 of mental association. Partial recall means the introduction 
 of selection, of preferences. It means the disintegration of the 
 associations of mere habit in order that they may be made to 
 conform to those of logic. 1 
 
 Both types of recall are instrumental in affording resources to 
 reason. They supplement each other, and yet are distinct in 
 operation. Total recall, the recall of habit, furnishes the basis 
 by which materials are originally brought together in the mind. 
 The grip of such memory, with its mechanical links of cus- 
 tomary connection, causes a mass of material to accumulate in 
 the general field of attention. Thereafter processes of selection, 
 resolution, and reorganization set in. The effect of these is to 
 single out certain factors, making them more powerful in sug- 
 gesting force than the others, because they and their associated 
 thoughts represent more reliable, more consistent, more im- 
 portant factors in experience. In this process of evaluation 
 the analytical power of mind comes to the front, and it is upon 
 analysis that originality largely depends. However, the selec- 
 tive activities that are operative in partial recall cannot be- 
 come active until the mechanism of habitual memory has pro- 
 vided material. Moreover, after analysis, selection, and reor- 
 ganization have done their work, their results must be intrusted 
 again to the binding force of a new set of habits in order that 
 they may control the current of thought in the future processes 
 of recall. 
 
 Partial recall is recall through selected, generalized, evalu- 
 ated associations. Total recall means the continued influence 
 of associations of habit that do not have the same universal 
 character, yet add their weight to the forces that determine the 
 current of the thought. Herein lies the main reason why gen- 
 eralizations are more apt to be useful when they come to us 
 embedded in a concrete experience many of the elements of 
 
 1 Compare 27. 
 
 'Partial re- 
 call" es- 
 pecially 
 helpful to 
 reason
 
 264 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Four applica- 
 tions of the 
 principle 
 that con- 
 cepts 
 should be 
 derived 
 from the 
 concrete : 
 
 (i) Induc- 
 tive teach- 
 ing 
 
 The formal 
 steps 
 
 which are likely to recur in the cases where the generalizations 
 are to be used. Education, therefore, while it emphasizes the 
 superior importance of the universal, which is abstract, cannot 
 neglect the particular with which it is connected so habitu- 
 ally that the child and even the man find it difficult to recall 
 the one without the other. 
 
 Four general principles of method may be said to find their 
 logical ground in this principle that generalizations are more 
 likely to be recalled when derived from and associated with a 
 mass of concrete associations similar to the situations in which 
 they are likely to be used. These are: (i) Concepts should be 
 taught inductively ; (2) the concepts must be well apperceived ; 
 (3) the schoolroom environment should correspond as closely 
 as possible to that of life ; and (4) concepts can best be reached 
 through the study of types. The inductive method of teaching 
 has been emphasized by educational reformers since the time 
 of Comenius. It received a formulation by the Herbartians, 
 as the formal steps in teaching. These are given by Professor 
 Rein as preparation, presentation, comparison, generalization, 
 and application. Preparation means gathering together the 
 knowledge that the children already possess on a given subject. 
 Presentation means putting them in possession of new concrete 
 facts relating to this subject. The facts will naturally be 
 chosen so as to stir up curiosity in regard to their explanation, 
 and will lead, when they are explained, to principles of far- 
 reaching importance. The comparison consists of the presen- 
 tation of other concrete cases illustrating the same principles, 
 so that these common concepts may be forced more clearly 
 upon the attention. Then, having thus carefully prepared the 
 ground, the generalizations are made, and the concepts stated 
 in abstract form. Finally, these concepts are applied to explain 
 new cases, and thus are verified, drilled in the memory, and 
 familiarized in a still wider variety of contexts.
 
 The Education of the Reason 
 
 265 
 
 The formal steps were designed not only that the concepts 
 that are the goal of education may be derived from the concrete 
 instances, but also that whatever is learned may be thoroughly 
 interrelated with the rest of the contents of the mind. This, of 
 course, means apperception. According to the Herbartians, if 
 the material of instruction is really to be absorbed so that it 
 comes to interest and to affect the will and, in consequence, to 
 establish character, it must be apperceived or thoroughly as- 
 similated. Apperception means in the step of preparation the 
 bringing up of the old in order to connect it with the new. In 
 comparison it means organizing experience into systems. In 
 generalization these systems are bound faster by the conscious- 
 ness of the principle that connects them. In application a still 
 wider field of experience is brought within the net of appercep- 
 tion. In all this the advantage lies in insuring recall. So 
 many associations are established that a given item of thought 
 can scarce escape the summons to consciousness when it is 
 needed. The associations of apperception include, of course, 
 as their chief factor the fundamental concepts. But there 
 remains a vast mass of mere superficial associations which 
 contribute materially to one's power to utilize what he has 
 learned, and these the instruction that aims at apperception 
 does not neglect. 
 
 Perhaps the completest statement of the principle which we 
 are discussing is to be found in the rallying cry of so much of 
 modern educational reform; namely, that the school should 
 conform to life. The conditions of learning should, as Pro- 
 fessor Dewey insists, 1 conform as closely as possible to the 
 conditions of application. Apperception not only should con- 
 nect the new with the old, but it should strive to connect the 
 new with that which is yet to be. But what is yet to be is not 
 altogether determinate in character. The emergencies of life 
 1 The School and Society. 
 
 (2) Appercep- 
 tion as an 
 aid to re- 
 call, furnish- 
 ing both 
 fundamen- 
 tal and su- 
 perficial as- 
 sociations 
 
 (3) Conform- 
 ity of the 
 school to 
 life
 
 266 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (4) The use 
 of the type. 
 Typical 
 superficial 
 associa- 
 tions 
 
 The evalua- 
 tion of ex- 
 perience. 
 Selection of 
 typical 
 cases 
 
 are unexpected and varied. Hence the school, in endeavor- 
 ing to anticipate them, not only abstractly but concretely as 
 well, must typify life in the greatest variety of representative 
 situations. There can be no doubt that the remodeling of the 
 school so that it may surround the child with an environment 
 like that in which he lives outside school, and like that which he 
 will occupy when his school days are over, will greatly increase 
 the power to recall and to use what this institution has taught. 
 
 But while it is important that principles should be deduced 
 from the concrete, it is no less important that the instances that 
 are used as a basis of induction or for illustration or application 
 should be selected, typical. The type, as Professor McMurry 
 points out, is the link between the concrete and the generaliza- 
 tion. It is that concrete instance which presents, in what may 
 be styled its more unessential details, similarity to the widest 
 range of cases to which the principle in question applies. In- 
 struction through typical cases preserves the advantage of an 
 appeal to total recall, while at the same time leading inevitably 
 to that vital principle which it is the function of all recall to 
 bring into use. 
 
 The accumulation of mental materials involves, in addition 
 to experience and to provision for its recall, a differentiation 
 of the contents of the mind on the basis of usefulness. Ideas 
 must be evaluated. Resources must include not only plans of 
 action, but also standards to which these can be submitted in 
 being judged. The initial step in this process of evaluation 
 is the selection of typical experience. As the fund of experience 
 grows, certain cases inevitably force themselves on the atten- 
 tion as typical. They can be used again and again as a basis for 
 the interpretation of new situations. The process of selecting 
 typical experience is, when allowed to go on in a merely natural 
 way, slow, laborious, and replete with erroneous valuations. 
 The primary service of the school in the education of the reason
 
 The Education of the Reason 
 
 267 
 
 generaliza- 
 tion as a 
 basis for a 
 sense of 
 relative 
 values and 
 power of 
 criticism 
 
 lies in the selection of the concrete experience which will prove 
 of most avail, so that the difficulties of learning this by trial 
 and error will in a measure be smoothed out. 
 
 On the other hand, the real appreciation of relative values Training in 
 can arise only from a sense of the bad consequences of following 
 unreliable standards and the advantages of the opposite policy. 
 One cannot realize the difference that exists between standards 
 and experience that is not appraised, if he is never faced with 
 any experience that is not standardized. The development of 
 judgment is in proportion to the clearness with which one is 
 able to make his way in the midst of the suggestions of error 
 toward that which can be trusted. But it is not necessary to 
 leave the child to flounder along without help till judgment 
 comes. In fact, so far from impeding the development of the 
 critical sense, the help of the school may constitute the most 
 favorable condition for its rise. In affording typical experi- 
 ence and in cultivating the tendency toward generalization 
 the school is fostering a practice which lies at the very founda- 
 tion of all criticism. Only in the form of a concept can the 
 relations upon which the conclusions of thought are based be 
 criticised and standardized. In all learning experimentation 
 precedes selection, hypothesis is the foundation of knowledge. 
 Getting the child into the attitude of generalization is to do 
 what Socrates tried to do for the Greeks, to establish a definite 
 starting point from which criticism can proceed logically with- 
 out the confusion that mere reference to the concrete is bound 
 to involve. 
 
 The important thing to note, so far as method is concerned, 
 is that while judgment must be a result of personal experience 
 with truth and error, the process of differentiating the two is 
 quickened to an extraordinary degree by the clear definition of 
 concepts, and by such assistance as enables the various criteria 
 of truth to be clearly distinguished and applied. Thus the
 
 268 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Steps in the 
 
 conscious- 
 standards 
 
 The stand- 
 
 ofthought 
 as a check 
 
 selected experience of the school, instead of checking criticism 
 and the growth of a sense of relative values, hastens the advent 
 of these attitudes by putting the child in a position to realize 
 the overwhelming importance of the evaluating process. The 
 advantage of judgment does not appear great so long as judg- 
 ment is very poor. Increase its efficacy, and the child is over- 
 whelmingly convinced of its need. 
 
 The first step in the differentiation of standards is the selec- 
 ^ on ^ typical experience which the child does not yet realize 
 to be typical. The second step is the formation of concepts. 
 When these are by the child applied, it is possible for him more 
 readily to separate the true from the false and to make the 
 proper corrections. This one may call the third step. It leaves 
 the child with a mass of ideas that he knows to be reliable, 
 which stand out in sharp relief against the untested or the dis- 
 proved. But meanwhile a new set of ideas is being differenti- 
 ated, defined, applied, and tested. These are the criteria of the 
 process of judgment itself, the laws of consistent thinking, 
 the empirical and the rational tests of truth, the principles of 
 quantitative, spatial, temporal, and causal arrangement. The 
 school leads the child to distinguish these, thereby putting him 
 in a position to test their value as guides to practice. 
 
 The standardization of thought tends to the elimination, the 
 forgetting of that which does not conform. It thus falls in 
 with all habit-forming in involving a loss of resources, with, 
 of course, a corresponding loss of originality, resourcefulness, 
 except along dependent lines of progress. An individual, a 
 race, or an age may fall into habits of thinking, and find it dif- 
 ficult or impossible to entertain other standards, or even to 
 think outside the beaten path. Thus mental processes, like 
 physiological ones, tend toward an adjustment that fits the en- 
 vironment, and when this environment changes, it is to the new 
 generation, with its capacity for variation and experimentation
 
 The Education of the Reason 269 
 
 toward different standards of thought, that we must look for 
 readjustment. It is possible that in its higher reaches 
 thought has attained standards that will always apply. 
 Doubtless, philosophy and science have established principles 
 that with proper application constitute an universal adjust- 
 ment. Throughout eternity they will prove safe guides to 
 action. Even here, however, to lose the sense of alternatives, 
 to think mechanically, is likely to cause one to apply the prin- 
 ciple without adequate regard to special conditions, and so to 
 fail of complete success in its use. No principle, however 
 universal, can be satisfactorily applied without regard to the 
 specific problem in hand. Thus habituation is ever a possible 
 source of danger to the proper functioning of reason and, in- 
 deed, of all readjusting processes. 
 
 In resume, we may say that the accumulation of materials Summary 
 for reasoning begins with the mere acquisition of experience. 
 It is well that this experience be from the first fairly repre- 
 sentative and that it be carried, as rapidly as is consistent with 
 clearness, on to the stage of generalization. The concept 
 represents the universal, which can alone be applied in new 
 cases. It represents this universal in an abstract form which 
 can be definitely apprehended and criticised. But mere ab- 
 stractions not derived from and widely illustrated in the con- 
 crete are not likely to be recalled when they are needed. The 
 multitude of factors entering into the context of new situations 
 distract the mind, and lead it far from the principle which it 
 seeks, unless they are similar to the contexts in which the 
 principle was learned. Resourcefulness requires attention to 
 this principle of total recall. From the point of view of method, 
 it leads to the inductive method of teaching, regard for apper- 
 ception, making the school environment similar to life, and 
 the use of types. 
 
 As the experience that is necessary to provide resources for
 
 2/0 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 reasoning is being acquired, the standards of judgment may 
 also be given. The steps preparatory to the appreciation of 
 these are familiarity with typical experiences and generaliza- 
 tion. Then comes the step of application, in which the critical 
 sense is roused, and truth is separated from falsehood. Lastly, 
 with the help of the school, the principles of judgment, by 
 which hypotheses may be tested and standardized, are them- 
 selves lifted into consciousness and criticised, with a correspond- 
 ing increase both in availability and accuracy of use. 
 
 Relation of 
 the atti- 
 tudes of 
 originality 
 and 
 criticism 
 
 SECTION 31. The cultivation of the rational attitudes 
 
 There remains the cultivation of the rational attitudes, the 
 attitude of originality and that of criticism. The one involves 
 the power to summon up one's resources in a comprehensive 
 way, even though they do not at first sight commend them- 
 selves as especially appropriate ; the other means caution and 
 the constant sense of need that all decisions should be justified 
 by fact and reason, in so far as this is possible. As distin- 
 guished from a well-stored mind, an original mind is one that 
 has confidence in its possessions, and boldness and energy in 
 utilizing them. It is a mind that is capable of getting away 
 from the point long enough to see if there are not new and more 
 effective ways of hitting it. Thus the secret of originality is 
 to be found in wise digression, a digression that is kept from 
 mere mind wandering by the constant recurrence of a critical 
 attitude that compels the thinker to refer the current of his 
 thought back to the problem from which it began. That the 
 attitude of originality may be assumed, that of criticism must be 
 temporarily in abeyance. That originality may be brought under 
 control, the attitude of criticism must forthwith be resumed. 
 Thus the two attitudes may work in harmony, and render their 
 possessor both brilliant in suggestion and sane in decision.
 
 The Education of the Reason 
 
 271 
 
 The essence of the attitude lies in certain habits and asso- 
 ciated feelings, which, when aroused, stimulate both the imag- 
 ination and the judgment. They accomplish this result by 
 directing the attention properly. The feeling accompanying 
 the active attack of attention upon any field of experience is 
 called interest. Interest is feeling, but that peculiar feeling 
 which goes with the forward movement of thought. Atten- 
 tion and the associated interest are, in great measure, the 
 outcome of certain motor adjustments that throw the mind 
 into the attitude most favorable to the perception of certain 
 objects, to the recall of experience, or to the analyses and com- 
 parisons of reason. These motor adjustments are quite evi- 
 dent where attention is turned toward perception through 
 the senses. They are not quite so apparent, yet no less un- 
 mistakably present, when one concentrates upon a train of 
 thought. One composes his mind to reflect. This means the 
 activity of a number of habits that shut out distracting stimuli 
 and encourage the activity of the brain. 
 
 The motor adjustments through which the attitudes are 
 invoked are themselves the habitual responses to certain 
 classes of situations. Where it is plainly a matter of vision, 
 the eyes are accommodated, and the mind turns toward the 
 business of seeing. Where the situation demands the recall of 
 a definite past experience, all the adjustments favor the shut- 
 ting out of distracting perceptions, the inhibiting of futile 
 lines of thought, and the encouragement of such associations 
 as seem likely to lead to the desired idea. When one reasons, 
 the situation that provokes the attitude is the emergency, the 
 problem. Such a situation may become associated with spe- 
 cific adjustments that favor adventurous thinking followed by 
 sharp criticism. 
 
 The cultivation of the rational attitudes means, then, habit- 
 uation in certain adjustments that tend to release the activities 
 
 The attitudes 
 based on 
 attention 
 and inter- 
 est, and on 
 the motor 
 adjust- 
 ments 
 back of 
 these 
 
 Habitual 
 character 
 of these 
 motor ad- 
 justments
 
 272 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Method of 
 cultivating 
 such habits. 
 Value of 
 the prob- 
 lem 
 
 Conditions 
 under 
 which a 
 problem 
 excites 
 interest. 
 
 Immediate 
 and medi- 
 ate interest 
 
 of imagination and to protect them against distraction, while 
 at the same time they provoke caution, a sense of the business 
 in hand, which keeps thought from wandering too far afield 
 without at the same time paralyzing its activities. The school 
 knows no way of training in these adjustments except by con- 
 stantly throwing the child into the situation that requires 
 reasoning, and by helping him to realize the value of the atti- 
 tudes that favor the getting of results. The reasoning situa- 
 tion is the new situation, the emergency, the problem. To cul- 
 tivate power to reason the school is wont to cast its work in the 
 form of problems to be solved. But to be effective the prob- 
 lems must be real, and this requires that, on the one hand, they 
 should seem important enough to warrant the effort required for 
 their solution, and, on the other, that the child should be able 
 to meet them with the knowledge at his command. 
 
 If a problem is regarded as worth while, it at once becomes 
 interesting. If it is a problem that admits of immediate so- 
 lution by the resources of the child, the interest is called by 
 Professor Dewey immediate. If, on the contrary, the in- 
 strumentalities by which a problem is to be solved are to be 
 mastered only after long effort, the interest in that effort is 
 mediate interest. Mediate interest is the interest in work ; 
 immediate interest finds its home in activities worth while for 
 their own sake. In general, these are represented by play. 
 The problems of play are usually simpler than those of work, 
 and they do not require such long-continued effort. It fol- 
 lows that in work the importance of what is to be done must 
 be felt to be great. The rule is that the task must be felt to 
 be worth while in proportion to the intensity and the per- 
 sistence of the effort it demands in doing things that are merely 
 instrumental. In work the issue of motive becomes of prime 
 importance. Mediate interest involves more powerful mo- 
 tives than does immediate interest.
 
 The Education of the Reason 
 
 273 
 
 Of course, all work does not take the form of a problem. 
 It may not involve any new situation, any summoning of one's 
 resources to cope with the unforeseen. But whether it in- 
 volves a problem with its appeal to the self-activity of the 
 individual, or simply requires mere mechanical drudgery, mo- 
 tive is of first importance. To insure a downright assump- 
 tion of the reasoning attitude the emergency presented must 
 interest, must seem worth while. Moreover, the teacher must 
 note that the character of the emergency depends on the di- 
 rection of the interest, or on the thing that is regarded as 
 worth while. If the real problem is felt to be merely that of 
 meeting the requirements of the teacher or of the book, the 
 wits of the child may address themselves to quite a different 
 set of devices than would pass in review in case this problem 
 were interpreted according to the intention of its framer, as 
 related to the larger necessities of life and to be taken at its 
 face value. In such cases the child studies not to learn about 
 something, but to recite in a satisfactory way. The exercises 
 in arithmetic become endeavors to get the answer of the book, 
 not to find out a fact that has relation to real life. Such prob- 
 lems may be called not genuine but counterfeit, for the situa- 
 tion with which they face the child is not the one that they are 
 supposed to present. 
 
 The use of the problem as the form of educating the reason 
 has been especially characteristic of education in modern 
 times. It may be said to be the largest outcome of educa- 
 tional reform in the direction of method, and its advent means 
 the conscious endeavor to give to the child not merely the 
 fixed adjustments of recapitulatory education, but also the 
 capacity to readjust that springs from reason and its culture. 
 In general, the educational principle that has been put forward 
 as representing the issue is that learning should stir up the 
 self-activity of the child, that the child should learn from his 
 
 Necessity of 
 motive in 
 work. 
 Character 
 of the 
 problem 
 dependent 
 on the 
 motive 
 
 The use of 
 the prob- 
 lem in 
 modern 
 education
 
 274 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Self-teaching 
 not an ade- 
 quate edu- 
 cational 
 method. 
 Two lines 
 along 
 which 
 method 
 has been 
 improved 
 
 (i) Improve- 
 ment of in- 
 struction. 
 From 
 lecture 
 to devel- 
 opment 
 
 own experience and efforts, not from those of the teacher; in 
 other words, that the most effective teaching is self-teaching. 
 Stated in its most extreme form without amendment, this 
 principle leaves no ground for the work of the teacher and the 
 school. We are committed to the negative or "let alone" 
 education of Rousseau, at any rate so far as the cultivation 
 of rationality is concerned. With such a conception Rous- 
 seau himself is inconsistent, as is evidenced by his description 
 of the ideal education of Emile. In the endeavor to give posi- 
 tive assistance in cultivating the rational attitudes, the school 
 has proceeded along two lines. On the one hand, it has 
 modified old-fashioned methods by which the teacher was 
 wont to give instruction, and, on the other, it has changed the 
 form of the study of the child. 
 
 From the point of view of the methods of instruction, the 
 attempt to cultivate the power to reason has led to the sub- 
 stitution for the method of lecture, or of direct imparting of 
 information, that of discussion, or better, of development. 
 Not that the lecture has been abandoned, but that it has come 
 to be felt that any points which can be covered by the ex- 
 perience already gained by the pupil should be left to him to 
 answer by making use of his resources. Development consists 
 essentially in getting a problem before the class, and extracting 
 the solution from them. It is the Socratic method, and 
 although it is not necessarily founded on the Platonic theory 
 that true knowledge is of ideas that are innate and need only 
 the proper suggestions in order to be recalled to mind, it does 
 assume that very commonly a pupil feels entirely ignorant 
 upon a question when in reality he possesses abundant ex- 
 perience from which to draw an answer, if only he would use it. 
 Such a method is therefore primarily an attempt to stimulate 
 the pupil to use his resources. It aims directly at what we 
 have called originality, or at that attitude which refuses to
 
 The Education of the Reason 
 
 2 75 
 
 mcnt les- 
 sons should 
 cultivate 
 both logi- 
 cal atti- 
 tudes 
 
 stand paralyzed when a new situation appears, but immedi- 
 ately looks within and sets going the machinery of imagina- 
 tion in the confident hope that some adequate solution will 
 thereby be found. 
 
 The first effect of the method of development lies in pro- Deveiop- 
 voking self-activity, spontaneity, originality. On the other 
 hand, it may and should help to cultivate the critical attitude 
 as well. This result is, however, secondary, and may not be 
 gained. Herein lies the principal criticism that is urged 
 against the employment of the method of development. It 
 is that such exercises tend to become mere guess work. The 
 sting of this objection lies not in the statement that the pupils 
 guess, but rather in that it is implied that this is all they do. 
 The development method should aim to cultivate a habit of 
 guessing, if by this we mean advancing a tentative answer for 
 critical review or experimental verification. But it is, indeed, 
 an imperfect method if it does not aim to include in the labor 
 of the pupil the task of deliberately subjecting his guess to his 
 own judgment or to a test in giving which he himself plays an 
 important part. Spontaneity and fertility of suggestiveness 
 must be supplemented by caution and careful reflection. A 
 class should not be led wholly to rely on the decisions of the 
 teacher, but should itself subject its answers to a test of rela- 
 tive value. Development should terminate in discussion and 
 criticism. Thus the mere guess, or utterly thoughtless and 
 inept answer, will be ruled out, and those who indulge in such 
 efforts subjected to repressive forces, such as loss of prestige, 
 ridicule, etc. The critical attitude should not be cultivated 
 so rigorously as to paralyze the confidence, but without proper 
 attention to it the method of development becomes very loose 
 and slipshod. 
 
 When we turn to methods of learning or study on the part 
 of the child, we find that the older requirement of a set task
 
 276 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (2) Improve- 
 ment of 
 study. 
 Kinds of 
 problems : 
 (a) Prob- 
 lems in 
 mathe- 
 matics 
 
 Real ver- 
 sus formal 
 problems 
 
 of memorizing has been largely replaced by exercises that 
 present problems which appeal to the intelligence. The sub- 
 ject of arithmetic readily came to consist largely of problems 
 to be solved rather than tables and rules to be committed to 
 memory. The same transformation has gone on to a consid- 
 erable degree in other departments of mathematics, with a 
 great resulting gain in their effectiveness as agencies for the 
 culture of rational attitudes. There is, however, a criticism to 
 be made upon much of the problem work in mathematics. 
 It is abstract and unreal, and in consequence formal. Couched 
 in concrete terms, it yet fails to have real significance to the 
 pupil. It does not represent a real situation, but only the pre- 
 tense of this. Thus the resources that are evoked to help in 
 the solution are the formal stock ideas that spring from the 
 textbook rather than from life. Moreover, the criticism is 
 formal, so formal that it almost seems as though the critical 
 attitude were not assumed. The problem may be utterly 
 ridiculous from the point of view of concrete experience, yet 
 if it presents a mathematically logical appearance, its absurd- 
 ity in other respects will be unnoted. If a class were asked 
 how many elephants weighing one hundred and fifty pounds 
 each would balance one man weighing two tons, a large pro- 
 portion of them would proceed to solve it in all seriousness. 
 So long as this is possible, one can say that the problem not only 
 fails to connect the arithmetic with life in such a way that it 
 will be recalled and used in later real emergencies, but also that 
 it fails to cultivate in the broadest way the rational attitudes. 
 In linguistic work the tasks of interpretation and translation 
 may be said to present problems of study to the pupil, but 
 composition possesses the largest possibilities, and has been 
 utilized of recent years in connection not only with the study 
 of language and literature, but also as a means of putting 
 together the results of investigation or thought in practically
 
 The Education of the Reason 
 
 277 
 
 any field. Essay writing, in which an endeavor is made to 
 deal with certain large problems through resources obtained 
 from library study, from reflection, or from any other sort of 
 research, is unquestionably one of the most fruitful means of 
 throwing the child into the reasoning attitudes. However, in 
 spite of its remarkable adaptability, the writing of essays 
 may degenerate into the most mechanical sort of an exercise. 
 Too frequently the topic for the essay is a purely formal one, 
 not vitally connected with any living issue in the mind of the 
 learner. Compositions are written, not to meet some end for 
 which written language is primarily intended, but merely to 
 satisfy a schoolroom requirement. Words are strung to- 
 gether, but genuine originality and criticism are both lacking, 
 because the situation lacks such connection with life beyond 
 the school as to make it a real problem. When the composi- 
 tions are intended for no eyes except those of the teacher, 
 they are especially apt to become formal. In general, essays 
 should be concerned with the genuine problem of putting 
 before an audience certain results of individual investigation 
 in which all are interested. 
 
 Laboratory work in science presents a third important 
 method of utilizing the problem in the tasks of the pupil. It 
 finds its greatest value not so much because it emphasizes the 
 ideas that are learned, as that it helps the reason, first by pre- 
 senting the principles in the concrete associations in connec- 
 tion with which they are apt to be needed, thus furthering re- 
 call, and second, by cultivating the rational attitudes. This 
 last advantage does not become great, however, so long as the 
 pupil merely follows directions. It is, doubtless, true that our 
 laboratories are to-day very largely places of demonstration 
 rather than of research. Where this is the case, whatever may 
 be said about the value of the knowledge gained, the rational 
 attitudes receive no especial encouragement. 
 
 (6) Prob- 
 lems of 
 transla- 
 tion and 
 interpreta- 
 tion. 
 Essay 
 writing. 
 Danger 
 of for- 
 malism 
 
 (f) Labora- 
 tory work. 
 Its values
 
 278 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (d) Con- 
 structive 
 work. 
 Relative 
 value of 
 this and 
 language 
 work 
 
 Dominance 
 of the 
 teacher in 
 develop- 
 ment work 
 
 Lastly, we may note constructive work as offering a fine op- 
 portunity for the introduction of the problem. So large a 
 part of the work of mankind consists in manual constructions 
 that the reformers of to-day have sometimes thought that 
 this work should be made central in the school rather than the 
 linguistic work which constitutes its traditional core of instruc- 
 tion. Working with the hands has been contrasted with 
 speech and writing, much to the discredit of the latter. How- 
 ever, there can be no doubt that the leading interest of man- 
 kind will continue to be that of cooperating with society. For 
 this end the humanities constitute the special preparation, 
 and hence must far outweigh in importance constructive 
 work. It is to be noted that constructive work may consist 
 merely in following directions, and hence offer no problem 
 to the reason. On the other hand, it lends itself admirably to 
 individual tasks in the school, and so to problems in which each 
 child is cast upon his own resources. 
 
 When we compare the common difficulties that beset the 
 teacher in the use of the method of development with those 
 that he encounters in getting children to do independent 
 work, we find an interesting contrast. To avoid the omni- 
 present danger of uncritical guesswork the teacher is apt to 
 develop a point by asking very definite and detailed questions, 
 thus keeping the progress of the thought of the class firmly 
 in his own grasp. Thereby time is saved, and results are 
 gained in the way of covering certain ground that has to be 
 mastered. However, the dominance of the teacher in such 
 exercises means a corresponding loss of rational attitude on 
 the part of the pupil. The questions are too detailed to 
 permit free play either to resourcefulness or to judgment. 
 The child hangs on the suggestions of the teacher without fac- 
 ing any independent problem, and, instead of making up 
 his mind on the basis of his own knowledge, waits for the
 
 The Education of the Reason 279 
 
 dictum that will soon come from the same authoritative 
 source. 
 
 On the other hand, in the matter of study, if assignments Difficulty in 
 really aim to set the pupil to reasoning, and not merely to seating 
 
 * problems 
 
 prescribe a certain content to be mechanically mastered, they for study 
 are apt to present problems that to the child seem extremely 
 large in scope and indefinite in character. The result is that 
 study becomes ill directed, uncritical, and results either in 
 mere random effort or in mechanical compliance with what- 
 ever in the assignment admits of such an attitude. A problem 
 is much more difficult to comprehend clearly than the ordinary 
 task for memorizing, and it is much easier to know when the 
 latter task is completed than to judge accurately regarding a 
 solution of the former. Of course, when the results are given 
 back to the teacher, his criticisms afford to the pupil a chance 
 to see where his efforts were misdirected or inadequate, and 
 gradually he may gain power to apprehend what is required in 
 the problems assigned him. Yet it is safe to say that a very 
 large part of a child's effort at study is hopeless floundering. 1 
 This the teacher feels, and as a result relies more and more on 
 development lessons as the sole means of cultivating the 
 reason, assigning for study merely mechanical lessons. In 
 other words, the child's power to think is offered an oppor- 
 tunity only in the presence of the teacher and in response to 
 detailed problems that afford little scope for the reasoning at- 
 titudes. 
 
 The development lesson, therefore, is apt to put the child in Need of cor- 
 close dependence upon the leadership of the teacher ; while 
 
 study assignments are likely to offer problems too indefinite and study 
 for the child to grasp and treat adequately. What is needed 
 is larger problems in development and more definite ones in 
 
 1 Compare Earhart, Teaching Children to Study; McMurry, II ow to Study, 
 Ch. I.
 
 280 Principles of Education 
 
 study. All this requires that the art of selecting and formu- 
 lating problems should be the chief concern in the cultivation 
 of the rational attitudes. Doubtless, the problem of the de- 
 velopment lessons should lead into that of the study lesson, or 
 at least help the child to realize the character of the latter and 
 the sort of effort that it demands. The genuine problem, that 
 is, the problem that corresponds to life, should predominate 
 over the merely formal problems of the school. Finally, and 
 more important than all, the child should be specifically 
 trained in the art of study. 
 
 class instruc- The growth of graded schools and of class instruction, 
 thTdedine to g etner with the professional training of teachers along the 
 of study lines of method of presentation, have made instruction revolve 
 about the efforts of the teacher rather than those of the child. 
 Our methods are not as wooden as of yore, yet there is grave 
 reason to suspect that they have given the child too little op- 
 portunity and need for sustained independent thinking. Re- 
 cent emphasis on the art of study by those who have been 
 leaders in perfecting the teacher's art of presenting material * 
 indicate very plainly that the interest in school method is be- 
 ginning to turn from methods of teaching to methods of 
 learning, from the art of the teacher to that of the child. For 
 this result the newer psychology, with its study of methods 
 of learning and its emphasis on motive and function, is partly 
 responsible. In a larger sense, however, it is the inevitable 
 forward tendency, the grappling with the next sequent prob- 
 lem in regard to the cultivation of the reason. 
 
 Training in The new interest in the art of study should be coupled with 
 means E of a recent endeavors to segregate the individual from the class, 
 segregating and to deal with him apart from the mechanisms by which 
 *' teacher and school must of necessity handle larger groups. 
 Whatever device of school management proves most effective 
 1 Especially Professor F. M. McMurry.
 
 TJie Education of the Reason 281 
 
 in enabling the child to be treated as an individual instead of 
 as a mere fragment of a class, it is plain that the inculcation of 
 the art of study must prove its most important auxiliary. 
 For this means that much of the time that to-day is spent on 
 the presentation of material to classes can by children trained 
 in independent study be quite as profitably given to individual 
 work, over which the teacher assumes only general supervision. 
 Thus the school will become less a place of teaching classes, and 
 more one of directing individuals to do independent work. 
 Armed with a larger power of seeing the significance of things, 
 the pupil may make the problems of mathematics, of language 
 and composition, of the laboratory, and of constructive work 
 bear upon the solution of the larger problems of life. Thus 
 the assignment will come to make an intenser appeal to the 
 reason and to the independent activity of the pupil. 
 
 The cultivation of the rational attitudes sums itself up, Summary 
 then, in training in certain habits or adjustments that with 
 their associated feelings project the attention toward the 
 mental resources, and suffuse the consequent thinking with a 
 sense of its purpose and the importance of a critical adherence 
 to it. The feelings that accompany attention are ordinarily 
 called interest, which may be classed as immediate in case the 
 problem that attention faces admits of an immediate solution, 
 or as mediate when it involves work, or the use of persistent 
 effort to master instrumentalities not in themselves worth 
 while or interesting. Mediate interest demands more intense 
 motivation than does immediate interest. To cultivate the 
 rational attitudes the school must present problems to the 
 child. These will be genuine, interesting, and so lead to rea- 
 soning in proportion as they seem worth while, or are con- 
 nected with concrete living issues. If we divide the work of the 
 school into the instruction of the teacher and the study of the 
 child, the problem has been applied in the former by the use
 
 282 Principles of Education 
 
 of the method of development and discussion, and in the latter 
 especially by incorporation in such activities as mathematical 
 problems, composition of various kinds, laboratory and con- 
 structive work. To save guessing and mind wandering and 
 to economize time, teachers have made development consist 
 in detailed problems that do little to provoke the rational at- 
 titudes. Thus instruction has tended to center about the 
 teacher, whose grip on the progress of thought in the classroom 
 has done much to organize and clarify thought, but little for 
 the cultivation of the rational attitudes. On the other hand, 
 the assignment of work for independent study has, from want 
 of careful attention, wavered between the indefinite problem 
 and the prescription of certain activities to be performed me- 
 chanically. The indefinite problem, because it cannot be 
 clearly grasped by the pupil and become a source of interest 
 to him, gets no standard results satisfactory to the teacher, 
 and, in consequence, it tends to be replaced by definite pre- 
 scriptions that do not arouse rational attitudes. The desid- 
 erata are more careful attention to the nature of the problems 
 used in instruction and the formulation and teaching of the 
 art of study. The problems of the development lesson need 
 to be made larger and connected with those of study. The 
 problems of study need to be made definite, and so associated 
 with real life as to seem worth while. Finally, the teaching 
 of the art of study may be expected to assist in breaking up 
 the domination of class teaching, by enabling the child to do 
 more effective independent work, thus relieving the teacher 
 on the side of presenting material, and enabling more atten- 
 tion to the supervision of the work of the individual. These 
 changes will all conspire to change the center of school activ- 
 ity from the teacher to the child, and to cultivate the rational 
 attitudes without impairing the work of storing the mind with 
 resources.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE QUESTION OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE 
 
 SECTION 32. The history of the conception of formal discipline 
 
 THE idea of formal discipline, or mental training through Formal dis- 
 the form of study, is intimately associated with the endeavor the'effect 
 to cultivate the reason. The connection of the two may of the form 
 
 of study 
 
 easily be seen when formal discipline is defined. In general, 
 it means the supposed effect of study upon the mind entirely 
 apart from the content of what is learned. This effect is con- 
 ceived to be so great and so important that many teachers 
 say that it does not matter so much what we study, since the 
 vital thing is how we study. The supposed significance of dis- 
 ciplinary effects springs from the fact that they are thought 
 to be general in character rather than merely specific. For 
 example, the study of Latin is held to give more than the 
 power of feeling at home in its vocabulary and constructions, 
 and so of being able to learn new Latin more readily. This 
 further gain is found in a culture of one's powers of observa- 
 tion, memory, reasoning, criticism, one's sense of the values 
 and uses of words. So, too, manual training is disciplinary, 
 not merely in that it teaches how to plane and saw and how to 
 fit joints accurately, but also in that through it, as is thought, 
 the hand acquires a general dexterity, the eye a keenness, and 
 the mind a clearness and a sense of the value of accuracy that 
 are useful not only in carpentering, but also in watchmaking 
 or in playing tennis or, indeed, in any business or profession. 
 Now when we mean by formal training not only the ac- 
 
 283
 
 284 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 quisition of specific habits useful in connection with certain 
 lines of thought or action, but also a general increase in power, 
 it is evident that we have in mind a culture the especial value 
 of which lies in that it enables the mastery of the new, the un- 
 expected. The significance of general mental discipline lies 
 in that it trains a faculty supposed to be independent of sub- 
 ject matter, and hence applicable to all the unpredictable 
 emergencies of life. In brief, formal discipline is held to cul- 
 tivate the power of conscious learning, of thinking, or of 
 reasoning. Indeed, it may be said that in the past this sort of 
 training has constituted the leading method by which the 
 school has striven to increase general mental power. 
 
 If we refer to the analysis of the education of the reason con- 
 tained in the last chapter, it is evident that formal discipline 
 does not concern all the factors involved. By virtue of being 
 formal, it disclaims any attempt to enhance the resources of 
 thinking or to build up standards of judgment. Only in the 
 cultivation of the attitude can it find a function. These at- 
 titudes are, as we have seen, based on definite mental and 
 motor adjustments that the individual may be trained to make. 
 However, the disciplinarians have not regarded the gain from 
 their s'ort of education to be limited to the power to take these 
 attitudes. They have assumed that discipline affects not only 
 the power to call up one's resources and to be critical, not only 
 the mastery of certain methods that make possible a most 
 efficient use of one's mental power and experience, but also 
 mental power itself. They have been prone to think that 
 they were cultivating mental faculties, the functioning of 
 which is independent of specific attitudes or habits. 
 
 The notion of formal discipline has, therefore, associated 
 itself quite consistently with the so-called "faculty theory." 
 This theory has already been considered in connection with 
 the subject of Recapitulation, and need not here be described.
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 285 
 
 of the idea 
 of formal 
 discipline 
 with the 
 "faculty 
 theory" 
 
 Suffice it to say that, when observation, memory, reasoning, Connection 
 judgment, and will are supposed to be perfectly general facul- 
 ties that can busy themselves equally well with any sort of 
 content, the inference is inevitable that the increase in one of 
 these faculties by training in any specific field will show itself 
 without loss when the faculty is directed toward a different 
 material. The faculty theory bids us search for the energy 
 of the mind not in its experience, the living force of its ideas, 
 but in the manipulating power of certain abstract agencies, 
 that express themselves in clutching and transforming the 
 material that experience presents to the mind. On this as- 
 sumption, it is perfectly logical for the educator to assume 
 that it is far more important to strive to develop the efficiency 
 of these powers than to store the mind with material. If 
 education can improve general abilities, it is evident that this 
 is what it should, in the main, aim to do. The merely in- 
 formed mind is bound to the special province of its informa- 
 tion. Within these limits it shows power. But the disciplined 
 mind is conceived to possess general superiority. One can 
 get information on any topic when needed, but he cannot thus 
 on occasion get the power that comes from training. Informa- 
 tion gives the mind material that it may, provided it possesses 
 the natural talent, use in certain cases. Discipline is thought 
 to improve that natural talent itself. 
 
 Now while the faculty theory does not of necessity involve 
 one in the belief that the faculties can be given general disci- 
 pline, the two ideas go together, and in history they have al- 
 most if not quite invariably been held in conjunction. What- 
 ever supports the faculty theory has been regarded as an 
 argument for general discipline, and, vice versa, the apparent 
 existence of general discipline has been taken to substantiate 
 the faculty theory. 
 
 Two main classes of facts lead to the conception of mental
 
 286 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Arguments 
 for the 
 "faculty 
 theory " 
 
 Question as 
 to whether 
 general 
 power can 
 be im- 
 proved 
 by culture 
 
 faculties : first, the mental differences between men and men, 
 and men and brutes ; second, the method by which sensations 
 are obtained. In regard to the first class, we note that in- 
 dividuals and species differ from each other in the quality of 
 their minds. The effect of experience depends in every case 
 upon the mental ability of the one who experiences. Here, 
 at any rate, we have a perfectly general power, not a result of 
 culture, but rather antecedent to it and a condition of its pos- 
 sibility. The facts of sensation tend to suggest that this 
 general ability may be specialized into faculties. We see not 
 merely because there are objects to be seen, but because we 
 have the apparatus for vision. Having eyes and a brain, we 
 possess the possibility of seeing many things. It is natural to 
 suppose that, just as the power of sensation rests back on the 
 general effectiveness of- the apparatus of sense, so the power 
 of thinking depends upon the general effectiveness of memory, 
 reasoning, judgment, etc. ; that is, upon the faculties. 
 
 It is further evident that whatever improves the general 
 ability creates a new type of individual, just as whatever im- 
 proves the eye adds to the general effectiveness of vision, etc. 
 However, it may not be possible by education to improve 
 native talent or imperfect eyes. Indeed, it is likely that cul- 
 ture is limited to the mere process of selecting among the po- 
 tentialities of growth those that should be encouraged in order 
 to insure specific adaptation to prevailing conditions. In 
 that event, one may hold to the faculty theory, at least in one 
 form, and yet not regard disciplinary effects as general. Edu- 
 cation may simply consist in direction, such as permits native 
 power to develop along the most effective lines. 
 
 On the other hand, if we compare the intelligence of edu- 
 cated and uneducated men when placed in similar situations, 
 the view that on the average the former have greater general 
 ability seems almost unavoidable. Historically the educated
 
 The Question of formal Discipline 287 
 
 classes show the greatest vigor of mind. College graduates 
 average better success in life than those who have not enjoyed 
 their educational advantages. It seems fairly evident that the 
 educated man is likely to deal better with a situation concerning 
 which he has no special experience than is an uneducated one. 
 It is, however, by no means certain, as is commonly assumed, 
 that the general superiority of the educated classes is due to 
 their education. It is quite possible to suppose that their 
 ability, so far from being a result of their education, is the 
 reason for it. Only those of intellectual power can take in an 
 elaborate culture. It may be that college graduates tend to 
 succeed, not because their college education betters their 
 natural talent, but solely because of their original endowment, 
 which, among other things, enabled them to get a college 
 education, something that the traditions of society regard as 
 highly desirable. Undoubtedly, well-educated men constitute 
 a class selected for native ability. Hence we might expect 
 them to succeed better than the great mass, a very large por- 
 tion of whom are uneducated because of incapacity. 
 
 However questionable the faculty theory may be, and how- 
 ever doubtful the common arguments for a general discipline 
 of the mental powers, it is evident that these notions have 
 prevailed from the beginning of attempts at psychological 
 analysis. They, therefore, lie ready to hand for emergencies 
 when they are needed as a defense for courses of study the 
 specific value of which is not apparent. In general, we may 
 distinguish three causes for the existence of such curricula. In 
 the first place, the school is apt to be conservative, to cherish 
 its own. Schoolmasters are wedded to their subjects. In the 
 second place, the curriculum that meets a real demand in one 
 age may grow obsolete in the next, and the schoolmaster may 
 be forced on the defensive to justify his practices. Finally, 
 as society advances, since progress becomes more swift and 
 
 The superior 
 ability of 
 educated 
 men not 
 shown to 
 be due to 
 training 
 
 Formal 
 discipline 
 as a de- 
 fense of 
 subjects of 
 doubtful 
 utility
 
 288 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 social relations more flexible, it becomes increasingly difficult 
 to predict for the boy his career as a man, and so the school 
 finds it constantly harder to select a suitable curriculum. It 
 is easy to train for the definite; difficult, if not impossible, to 
 train for that the exact nature of which we cannot foresee. 
 
 The disciplinary argument may be used to defend an anti- 
 quated program, and to excuse the school from the task of 
 finding a curriculum that in its content can be shown to be best 
 adapted to composite and rapidly changing life. If the mere 
 exercise of the faculties improves them, then it does not matter 
 whether the course of study be out of date ; the important 
 thing is whether it is hard, whether it exercises the mind. 
 Moreover, it is not worth while to bother about trying to fore- 
 cast the uncertain careers of the pupils, since, whatever they 
 do, they will need above all the mental ability which discipline 
 may be expected to give them. The belief in formal discipline 
 saves the school much anxiety and laborious effort. 
 
 One of the most striking instances of the use of the discipli- 
 nary argument is as a justification of the classical secondary 
 program which we owe to the Renaissance. As Latin drifted 
 curriculum more and more out of usage, and new literatures expanded, 
 as the ancient culture ever lost ground before the achievements 
 of the newer life, or, becoming assimilated therewith, ceased 
 to require so much special training of those who would utilize 
 its spirit, but wished if possible to avoid the labor of mastering 
 its form, the schoolmen found in the notion of the training of 
 the faculties a bulwark of defense against a practical world. 
 Thus their beloved specialties, which had absorbed most of 
 their spiritual life, and which they were skilled to teach, gained 
 a recommendation for men who saw in their content no utility. 
 
 In the last century the disciplinary argument grew to be the 
 leading support of existing educational practices. Youmans, 
 advocating in 1867 the reorganization of the program of study 
 
 Discipline 
 as the ar- 
 gument 
 for the 
 classical
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 289 
 
 in secondary and collegiate education in order that more 
 science might be introduced, says : 1 
 
 "The adherents of the traditional system . . . maintain 
 that knowledge is to be acquired not on account of its capability 
 of useful application, but for its own intrinsic interest, that 
 the purpose of a liberal education is not to prepare for a voca- 
 tion or profession, but to train the intellectual faculties. They, 
 therefore, hold that Mental Discipline is the true object of a 
 higher culture, and that for its attainment the study of the 
 ancient classics and mathematics is superior to all other 
 means." 
 
 Again the Emperor of Germany said in 1892, regarding the 
 advocates of the existing program in the classical gymnasia: 
 
 "If any one enters into a discussion with these gentlemen 
 on this point and attempts to show him that a young man ought 
 to be prepared, to some extent at least, for life and its manifest 
 problems, they will tell him that such is not the function of the 
 school, its principal aim being the discipline or gymnastic of 
 the mind, and that if this gymnastic were properly conducted, 
 the young man would be capable of doing all that is necessary 
 in life." 
 
 In the progress of time psychology, which in its earliest state Historic 
 assumed the faculty theory and countenanced the idea of formal o" a t c h k e s 
 discipline, broke away from both. Even Locke, who by Pro- faculty 
 fessor Monroe 2 is taken as the typical disciplinarian, questions 
 the possibility of a general training of the memory. 3 The first 
 outspoken rebellion against the faculty theory was that of 
 Herbart. However, the way for Herbartianism was prepared 
 by Kant. This philosopher, although in the distinction be- 
 tween his Critiques of Understanding, Judgment, and Practical 
 Reason, or Will, he gave a new formulation of the faculty 
 
 1 Culture demanded by Modern Life: Mental Discipline in Education. 
 * Textbook in the History of Education. 
 3 Thoughts on Education, 
 v
 
 290 Principles of Education 
 
 theory, nevertheless, paved the way for a new theory of mind 
 in his conception of the a priori elements in experience. Ac- 
 cording to the notion of the faculties, the sorts of consciousness 
 are results of the manipulation by these inner powers of the 
 material given by sense. To observe means to discriminate 
 the data of sense by separating them from each other. To 
 remember is to retain them. Comparison, abstraction, associ- 
 ation, reasoning, judgment, add nothing to sensation. They 
 merely arrange the materials of sense in a different manner; 
 i) Kant's manufacture it, as it were, into new forms. But, according to 
 formTas Kant, experiencing means that the mind is contributing to the 
 a substi- objects of consciousness something that is definitely recogniz- 
 facuities able therein. Perception is not merely sensation plus the 
 reproduction of such experience as gives it meaning. It is 
 the organization of the manifold of sensation by forms that 
 enter into its constitution, transforming into experience what 
 would otherwise not be consciousness at all. Mental activity 
 is synthetic, not merely analytic. It adds to sensation space, 
 time, causal relationship, in short, all the categories by which 
 relationship may be expressed. They are the warp of expe- 
 rience, and the material coming from the senses is the woof. 
 But as both warp and woof are thread, so one might readily 
 say of the form of experience that it too is content, having a 
 somewhat different nature and function from the stuff that it 
 organizes and transforms into experience. The Kantian a 
 priori form is not an abstraction that intelligence analyzes out 
 of its objects. Rather it is a positive factor that a synthetic 
 mind adds to its content, as the breath of life that makes it 
 real experience. 
 
 Now while Herbart rejects the Kantian notion of the 
 a priori forms, he clings to the view that mental activity is not 
 the manipulation of a mental content, but is rather the fusion 
 of content elements themselves. He holds that what lifts the
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 291 
 
 as yet unapprehended idea into the region of consciousness is (2) Herbart's 
 the force of other kindred ideas that are already in this realm. ^ ^^ 
 To attend one must apperceive, and apperception is not, as thinking of 
 
 iclcus bv 
 
 with Kant, the organization of a content by an a priori form, ideas 
 but the attention to new ideas because they are related to old 
 ones. Such attention is coincident with interest and compre- 
 hension. Ideas that have no meaning cannot rouse interest 
 or attention. It is the fusion of old meanings with new objects 
 that elevates them into consciousness. This is apperception, 
 a meeting, not of a content with a form which is essentially 
 different from it, though capable of fusing with it, but rather 
 of one content with other contents, having the same general 
 nature and origin, but differing in possessing the advantage 
 of being before attention. 
 
 Thus according to Herbart we have, not the mind and its Consequent 
 ideas, but rather just the ideas. The ideas do the thinking. oMormd 
 The interplay of thoughts upon each other is the activity of discipline 
 consciousness. Hence, there are no faculties left. Herbart 
 saves the terminology that refers to them, but with the caution 
 that it is intended to indicate various phases of the interaction 
 of ideas upon each other, and not in any sense separate powers 
 of a mind to the energies of which this interaction is supposed 
 to be due. With the faculty theory departs the notion of 
 formal discipline, which has no place in the pedagogy of Her- 
 bart, or in that of his disciples. For them the fundamental 
 educational conception is not discipline but apperception. 
 The important thing for a teacher to know is, not how well 
 drilled a child is, how well his faculties may be expected to 
 work, but what experience he has assimilated. This exploited, 
 it can easily be seen what material the child will be interested 
 in, understand, and assimilate. Mental power is a function of 
 the organized experience of the individual. Organization is 
 inherent in the material itself, and not a result of its manipu-
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Practical 
 effect of 
 Herbar- 
 tianism in 
 regard to 
 formal 
 discipline 
 
 Formal dis- 
 cipline as 
 a defense 
 of any 
 program 
 
 lation by a mind, or of the imposition upon it of a priori forms. 
 Since form is dependent upon content, all studies are really 
 content studies, and it is idle to talk of the disciplinary value 
 that their form possesses independently of their subject matter. 
 
 But the influence of Herbartianism was not primarily thrown 
 into a resolute attempt to reform the curriculum, except 
 as it is seen in the culture-epoch theory. In the main, the 
 Herbartians strove to improve and rationalize method, and 
 only incidentally to enrich the course of study. Herbart him- 
 self valued highly both classics and mathematics ; and although 
 this estimate was based on a regard for their content, it is only 
 natural that the implications of his view in reference to that 
 favorite defense of such work, their disciplinary value, should 
 have been neglected because of his advocacy of the subjects 
 themselves. Moreover, the influence of Herbartianism has 
 been rather restricted. In consequence, the disciplinary 
 theory grew and flourished, until new educational conditions 
 arose to minimize its importance, and a new psychology, of 
 which Herbart may, perhaps, be regarded as the original ex- 
 positor, came to attack again the faculty theory upon which 
 the conception of formal discipline is founded, and to question 
 through its experiments the facts assumed by the theory itself. 
 
 The educational condition that forced the doctrine of formal 
 discipline into a subordinate position was the actual admission 
 of new subjects into the curriculum, at first mainly for their 
 content and their utility. In order to maintain and, if possible, 
 to increase the ground thus gained, the advocates of the newer 
 studies insisted that these were just as valuable for discipline 
 as the old ones. Thus science availed itself of the principal 
 weapon of the classics, and urged its superiority for the reasons 
 that it furnishes just as good discipline as they, if not better, 
 and that it is far more valuable for the utility of its content. 
 Such is the view of Spencer and of Huxley and of the defenders
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 293 
 
 of science generally, as well as of those large-minded educators 
 like Barnard, who, while appreciating the value of the classical 
 culture, felt the need of a broader curriculum in order to keep 
 pace with the progress of science and the arts of life. More- 
 over, just as the notion of discipline was utilized to defend 
 the new as well as the old subjects, so it came to be utilized 
 in the service of the elective system as well as in that of pre- 
 scription. The defenders of the old required course urged that 
 any deviation from its standard materials would leave a gap 
 in the mental training of the young. Some powers would in 
 that case not be properly developed. On the other hand, 
 those who favored, as does President Eliot, the scheme of elec- 
 tion were insistent on the view that one subject will furnish as 
 good discipline as another, provided it is properly studied. 
 
 Thus compelled to fight on both sides of every vital question, (3) Appiica- 
 the notion of formal discipline fell into decline. As a weapon 
 
 with which to win a decided victory, it ceased to have any tothe . 
 value, and it retained the sole function of clouding the atmos- 
 phere, that a losing side might escape in the confusion thus 
 brought about, or perhaps, resorting to other devices than 
 reason, win by strategem what could not be gained in open 
 fight. There remained for the psychologist the task of dis- 
 lodging the conception from this doubtful position, and of 
 either justifying and resuscitating it, or of forcing it into the 
 limbo of rejected hypotheses. On this last stage of the history 
 of the theory we have now entered, and, although most psychol- 
 ogists would refuse to admit that the question is in any sense 
 settled, yet much has been done that we may now proceed 
 briefly to review. 
 
 To recapitulate : the desire to preserve in the school subjects Summary 
 the content of which is not closely related to the current life, 
 and the difficulty of finding just what subjects are best fitted 
 to prepare for life in an individualistic and progressive civili-
 
 294 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 zation, have combined to cause the schoolmaster to resort to 
 the idea of discipline through the form of study. Such disci- 
 pline is supposed to arise from any subject when it is well 
 studied, and to afford mental power that can be utilized in 
 any kind of an emergency. Since the disciplinary theory is a 
 natural outcome of the faculty theory, the abandonment of 
 that view by Herbart in favor of his "content" theory of mind 
 led to the rejection of the notion of the discipline of the faculties. 
 Modern psychology has, in general, followed the Herbartian 
 view, but, nevertheless, the disciplinary argument has been 
 retained. It has lost ground, because it has been found to be 
 equally useful to defend any program of study where the mind 
 is set to work. Finally, it has been attacked by the experi- 
 mentalists. 
 
 SECTION 33. Criticism of formal discipline by recent psychology 
 
 The disappearance of the faculty theory cut the theoretical 
 gJnerafor 6 foundation from beneath the belief in formal discipline. But 
 special the notion was supported by much direct evidence. It re- 
 mained for recent psychology to call this evidence in question, 
 and to endeavor to ascertain the exact facts by careful experi- 
 mentation. We may first consider the preliminary phase of this 
 discussion. On the one hand, men have noticed that certain 
 individuals whose powers of observation were good in certain 
 fields seemed similarly gifted when they came to attend to the 
 facts in other fields. The all-round ability in observation of 
 an Aristotle or of a Darwin is a characteristic that seemed to 
 be repeated on a lesser scale in many men whom we meet. 
 On the other hand, it is no less common to find men who possess 
 great powers of observation in certain fields, and seem in others 
 to be singularly unable to note the facts before them. The 
 specialist in botany who sees plants, but is oblivious to the
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 295 
 
 facts of human nature; the tailor who notes the character of our 
 garments, but fails to see anything else about us; the business 
 man who travels abroad and sees nothing of art or history or 
 quaint custom, but attends only to the quality of the transpor- 
 tation, the hotel service, or the business methods, all illus- 
 trate this notorious characteristic of human nature. So, too, 
 there are men like Macaulay with excellent memories for all 
 sorts of facts, while others seem to remember well only those 
 in one or at most a few special fields. I have in mind the case 
 of a boy who was subnormal in power of retention in regard 
 to his school studies. However, he had a very fair, indeed, to 
 many observers, apparently a very good memory for baseball 
 records. Even in reasoning, where one might expect the spe- 
 cialization of ability to be least in evidence, we can place be- 
 side those Caesarian types whose versatility is so extraordinary 
 the inventor who is fleeced by the scheming promoter, and the 
 typical lack of critical sense of the business man when he faces 
 a problem of pure science. So, too, in regard to will, the fairly 
 consistent Rooseveltian type may be opposed by that of those 
 men whose decision and resolution in some emergencies are 
 replaced by vacillation in others. Finally, one may be punc- 
 tual at business and irregular at meals, conscientious in return- 
 ing calls and careless in answering letters, and so on indefinitely. 
 Thus it would seem that powers of observation, memory, 
 judgment, and will may be either general or special, and that 
 habits may apply to many situations or only to one. 
 
 Such ambiguities leave it possible to suppose that native Ordinary ob- 
 ability may be general or special, and that the effects of training 
 may similarly be both. Considering all these facts of obser- tiaiof 
 vation, together with that of the general intellectual superiority cfpiina 
 of the educated classes discussed in the last section, it seems effects 
 that the hypothesis that native ability tends to be general, 
 while the effects of training are specific, is quite as plausible
 
 296 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Classes of ex- 
 periments! 
 
 Experiments 
 of Volk- 
 mann and 
 others 
 
 Transference 
 of practice 
 effects to 
 symmetri- 
 cal parts 
 due to 
 identity of 
 function 
 and control 
 
 as any other. So far as ordinary uncritical observation is 
 concerned, therefore, there seems no clear evidence for general 
 disciplinary effects. It remains for scientifically guarded obser- 
 vation and experiment to determine for or against its existence. 
 
 The experimentation on this matter may be reviewed under 
 the following headings : (i) the effect of training certain mus- 
 cles and sensory surfaces upon bilaterally symmetrical ones ; 
 (2) the effect of special training on the general accuracy and 
 rapidity (a) of discriminations or estimates made by the 
 senses, (&) of motor adjustments, or (c) of memorizing ; (3) the 
 effect of special habits on general behavior. 
 
 (i) Effect of training certain muscles and sensory surfaces 
 upon bilaterally symmetrical ones. Experiments by Volkmann J 
 show that when skin of the left arm is trained to discriminate 
 touches that are so near that they were at first confused, the 
 skin of neighboring areas and also of the right arm makes 
 similar, although not proportionate, gain. Other experimenters 
 discovered that as training of one arm improved its grip, the 
 grip of the other became stronger ; 2 as the right toe was trained 
 to tap more quickly, the left toe and both the hands showed 
 some quickening in speed in this exercise ; as the right arm 
 gained through practice the power to lift a certain weight more 
 times or to strike a target more accurately with a foil 3 or to 
 hit a dot, 4 the left showed considerable if not equal improve- 
 ment. 
 
 Professor Thorndike 5 regards these cases as not properly 
 instances of the spread of special training, because the influ- 
 ence of bilaterally symmetrical halves of the body upon each 
 other constitutes a "very peculiar case." It is to be noted 
 
 1 BericU der Kgl. Sack. Ges. d. Wiss., Math.-phys. Cl., 1858, X, 38. 
 
 2 Yale Studies, Vol. II. 
 
 3 Ibid., Vols. VI and VIII. 
 
 4 Psych. Rev., Mon. Supplement, No. 13, p. 105. 
 
 5 Educational Psychology, pp. 87-88.
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 297 
 
 that we do not have different things done by different organs, 
 or even by the same organ, but rather practically the same 
 thing done by organs which, because they are symmetrical, 
 are practically identical in function and control. Hence, we 
 can scarcely speak of the development of any general power. 
 However, in so far as there is any evidence of generalization, 
 it is plain that it depends upon the presence of "identical ele- 
 ments" to be discriminated by different parts of the same sense 
 organ, or of identical methods of control over different but 
 very similar associated muscles. 
 
 (2-0) Effect of special training on the general rapidity and 
 accuracy of discriminations and estimates made by the senses. 
 Thorndike and Woodworth : found that improvement in dis- Experiments 
 criminating words containing the letters e and 5 brought with dike and 
 it improvement of 39 per cent as much in the speed of discrim- 
 inating words containing i and t or s and p, etc., or misspelled 
 words, or the letter A in a list of letters. There was also a gain 
 in accuracy, but only 25 per cent of that in the practice work. 
 Training in perceiving English verbs, which reduced the time 
 of discrimination and the number of omissions, made it pos- 
 sible to discriminate other parts of speech 3 per cent more 
 quickly than before, but there was a large increase in the 
 number omitted, showing positive interference. Forty-four 
 per cent of the improvement resulting from practice in esti- 
 mating the areas of rectangles was shown in the power to esti- 
 mate the areas of rectangles of the same general size, but of a 
 different shape, and 30 per cent of this original practice effect 
 remained when the size was increased but the shape retained. 
 Curiously enough, when there was both increase in size and 
 change in shape, the transfer of improvement was most marked, 
 being 52 per cent of the original gain. Improvement in the 
 power to estimate weights resulted in 39 per cent as much 
 1 Psych. Rev., Vol. VIII..
 
 298 Principles of Education 
 
 gain in power to estimate heavier ones, while practice in esti- 
 mating the lengths of lines failed to produce an invariable 
 gain in the ability to estimate longer and shorter ones. 
 Transference Professor Thorndikc ascribes the transfer of practice effects 
 * n tnese experiments to "(i) the acquisition during special 
 
 tion de- training of ideas of method and of general utility, and also (2) 
 
 "identical" of facility with certain elements that appeared in many other 
 
 elements complexes." An "instance of (i) is learning . . . that one 
 
 has a tendency to overestimate all areas, and consciously 
 
 making a discount for this tendency, ... of (2) is the uni- 
 
 form increase in speed of eye movements in all the tests 
 
 through training in one, an increase of speed often gained at 
 
 the expense of accuracy." 
 
 Experiments Coover and Angell * discovered that training in tone dis- 
 
 of Coover ... ,, ,,... 
 
 and Angell. crimination produced a beneficial effect upon the discrimma- 
 Simiiar ^ on o f sna( j es o f color. The causes of this transference they 
 
 results ' 
 
 sum up as, (a) "The formation of a habit of reacting directly 
 to a stimulus without useless kinassthetic acoustic and motor 
 accompaniments of recognition, which results in (b) an equitable 
 distribution of attention to the various possible reactions 
 so as to be about equally prepared for all ; and (c) the conse- 
 quent power of concentrating the attention throughout the 
 whole series without distraction." 
 
 It will be seen that the general improvement here lies in a 
 strengthening of the ability to attend. Professor Angell, 
 commenting again 2 on these experiments and their signifi- 
 cance, seems to regard this improvement as largely to be ex- 
 plained by "the habituation which is afforded in neglecting 
 or otherwise suppressing unpleasant or distracting sensations. 
 We learn to 'stand it' in short." This power, he thinks, may 
 be derived from attention to the classics and be transferred 
 to other difficult tasks in life. 
 
 1 Amer. Journal of Psych., 1907, p. 328. 2 Ed. Rev., June, 1908.
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 299 
 
 (2-6) The effect of special training on the general rapidity Motor ad- 
 and accuracy of motor adjustments. It will be observed that in ^Tnot 
 the experiments of Thorndike and Woodworth, and of Angell involved 
 and Coover the motor reactions, except as they contribute to 
 more accurate discrimination, are comparatively unimportant. 
 It is true that, where rapidity of discrimination as well as 
 accuracy are in question, the attempt to discriminate quickly 
 might tangle up the motor machinery involved in the responses, 
 and errors due to this confusion might be ascribed to false 
 perception. However, since there is only one response to each 
 element discriminated, unless this is a new and as yet not 
 thoroughly learned reaction it will probably follow a sufficiently 
 clear perception without difficulty. But these reactions consist 
 merely in crossing out words or in naming or estimating by well- 
 known words. Therefore, the experiments test discrimination 
 rather than motor adjustment. 
 
 Professor Judd gives an experiment 1 in which the latter Judd's ex- 
 factor is concerned. The person tested was required to place ^"placing 
 a pencil which he held in his hand in the same direction as lines a pencil, 
 which were exposed momentarily to his vision. The hand and e nce 
 the arm were concealed from his view, so that the eyes were 
 unable to observe directly errors in placing the pencil. It 
 was found that fuller visual experience with one of the lines led 
 to a more accurate placing of the pencil in its direction. When, 
 after this practice, the other lines were shown as at first, it 
 was found that there was improvement in the representation 
 where the original error had been in the same direction as that 
 of the practice line, but the representations of other lines grew 
 worse. Thus Professor Judd concludes that the results of 
 practice can be transferred, and that the effect may be improve- 
 ment or interference. Moreover, since subsequent practice 
 by the fuller exposure of one of the misrepresented lines failed 
 
 1 Ed. Rev., June, 1908.
 
 300 Principles of Education 
 
 to produce improvement, the experimenter thinks that a habit 
 had been formed that resisted the effects of further practice. 
 Experiments on geometrical illusions showed that when the 
 subject was aware of improvement in correcting the illusion 
 and of its reasons, he found it possible to overcome this inter- 
 ference when an illusion of an opposite character was set before 
 him. When, however, such knowledge was absent, the ten- 
 dency toward interference remained as a fixed habit, 
 interference In Judd's first experiment the sensory factors and their 
 f If r t0 /^ meanm S m terms of the reaction are not clearly apprehended 
 discrimi- by the subject. He gets a better view of the practice line, 
 proper sen- an( ^ tm ' s ne lp s him in a vague way to place the pencil better. 
 sory cue to The reason for interference lies in the fact that, so far as the 
 or ' subject perceives or feels, all the representations should be 
 
 corrected in the same way. Interference plainly arises where 
 in new situations the sensory cue that should lead to a different 
 reaction is not apprehended. It may also appear where the 
 same sensory suggestion is now to be responded to by a dif- 
 ferent reaction. As the former case is illustrated in the experi- 
 ments of Judd, so the latter appears in those of Bergstrom. 1 
 (2) change in Bergstrom* studied the interference of certain habits with 
 this sen- fa e ability to perform opposed acts. He used a pack of eighty 
 as seen in cards, each having a picture on its face. Each picture appeared 
 stromVex- on e ig nt f tne cards. The experiment consisted in sorting the 
 periments, cards according to the pictures, and then in re-sorting them, 
 placing each pile in a different position from the one it occupied 
 at first. In the beginning, the re-sorting took more time than 
 the original act. This interference tends to decrease with the 
 more extended practice in sorting the piles in the various posi- 
 tions. 
 Munsterberg 2 experimented on the effect of changing his 
 
 1 Amer. Journal of Psych., VI, p. 433. 
 
 2 Gedachlnisstudien, Teil I, Heft 4, 1892.
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 301 
 
 watch from one pocket to the other. Whenever such a change (V) Mun- 
 was made, there followed a period during which the hand would 
 unconsciously fumble in the wrong pocket in the endeavor 
 to take out the watch. With practice in the interchange, 
 however, the rapidity of readjustment to a different position 
 of the watch was greatly increased. Similar results were 
 obtained from the interchange of two inkwells, one full, the 
 other empty, which were placed on the table where he was 
 writing; also by locking now one, now another of the two doors 
 by which he could enter his office. Thus, he concludes, the 
 power to substitute for one habit an opposed one can be im- 
 proved by practice. 
 
 In so far as new reactions contain elements identical with Transference 
 some appearing in old ones, they may be facilitated by the wh f 
 power previously acquired. Bair 1 found that practice in have com- 
 copying on a typewriter a series of letters in which only six ments 66 
 distinct letters were used improved one's power to copy Ba ' r ' s - 
 another series of equal length made up of a different set of 
 letters or figures. The keys of the typewriter were capped so 
 as to place any symbol on any key, and thus the effect of pre- 
 vious familiarity with the machine was eliminated from the 
 experiment. He also found that practice in repeating the 
 alphabet with the letter n spoken after each letter increased the 
 power to repeat it with the letter x or the letter r thus intro- 
 duced. 
 
 (2-c) The effect of special training on the general rapidity and James's ex- 
 accuracy of memorizing. We notice here first the observations ^"practice 
 of Professor James, 2 a contribution that may be said to j n . memor - 
 have initiated the experimental phase of the discussion of formal improve- 
 discipline. He found that, after practice in committing to I 116 " 1 
 
 in memory 
 
 memory parts of Book I of Paradise Lost, his power to memo- due to 
 
 better 
 
 1 Psych. Rev., Mon. Supplement, No. 19. methods 
 
 * Principles of Psych., Vol. I, p. 667.
 
 302 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Confirmation 
 of this view 
 in (i) ex- 
 periments 
 of Ebert 
 and Meu- 
 mann : 
 
 (2) experi- 
 ments of 
 Fracker ; 
 
 rize other verses seemed to have decreased. Three other 
 subjects noted an insignificant gain as a result of practice, 
 while a fourth suffered a similar loss. He concludes, "All 
 improvement of memory consists in the improvement of one's 
 habitual method of recording the facts." 
 
 Ebert and Meumann 1 found that practice in committing 
 to memory nonsense syllables, in the course of which an en- 
 deavor was made to discover which methods of learning were 
 most economical, effected constant improvement in the power 
 to learn and to retain series of nonsense syllables, letters, words, 
 and lines of poetry or of prose. The amount of improvement 
 was in a general way proportional to the similarity between the 
 test material and the practice material. The observations of 
 the subjects of the experiments seemed to indicate that they 
 would explain the increase in power to the discovery of what 
 to each was his most efficient method of memorizing, and the 
 gradual elimination of the other devices. Thus the theoretical 
 view of James would be confirmed, although Ebert and Meu- 
 mann were inclined to credit the existence of something that 
 might be called general improvement of the memory. 
 
 Another very careful, prolonged, and somewhat complicated 
 research "On the Transference of Training in Memory" is 
 that of Dr. Fracker. 2 He found that practice in committing 
 to memory the order of four tones gradually led to an improve- 
 ment in the power to remember poetry, the order of presenta- 
 tion of four shades of gray, of nine tones, of nine shades of gray, 
 of nine geometrical figures, of nine numbers, and of the extent 
 of arm movements. The improvement was neither uniform 
 nor invariable. He concludes that his results are in accord 
 with those of James, "inasmuch as all the factors we have 
 discovered have to do with methods." He considers improve- 
 
 1 Arch.f. d. gesam. Psych., Vol. IV, p. i. 
 
 2 Psych. Rev., Mon. Supplement, Vol. IX, No. 2.
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 303 
 
 ment "to depend upon the consistent use of some form of 
 imagery, whether it is the most advantageous or not." In 
 further summary he says : 
 
 "Imagery may be subconsciously developed, but if it comes 
 to be consciously recognized, the improvement is more rapid. 
 The rate of improvement seems to depend directly upon the 
 conscious recognition of imagery and upon attention to its 
 use." 
 
 "A change in imagery during practice increases the rapidity 
 of the improvement, if a better form is adopted and adhered to. 
 It may prevent improvement if a change of imagery is frequent, 
 or if a less adequate form is adopted." 
 
 In concluding this sketch of experiments on memory, we 
 might note the results of Winch * with British school children. 
 After testing three classes of children of different social standing 
 in power to commit to memory poetry, he divided each into 
 two groups of equal ability. One division was trained by 
 being required to commit to memory one hundred words of 
 poetry. A second test showed 10 per cent more improvement 
 on the part of this group than on that of the untrained one. 
 This large gain from a small amount of practice is, doubtless, 
 the sudden accession of power that comes from a few funda- 
 mental advances in method. It may be profitably contrasted 
 with the results of the experiments of James, with whose sub- 
 jects, doubtless, the methods of memorizing had been fairly well 
 exploited before the experimentation began. Thus in training 
 the memory, as in training the senses or the motor powers, 
 the general improvement rests back upon identical elements 
 in the practice and the test material. Whenever similar situ- 
 ations recur, a recognition of their similarity leads to a utili- 
 zation in the new cases of the reactions found advantageous 
 in the older ones. A specific task of memorizing, such as is 
 
 1 British Journal of Psych., Vol. II, p. 284. 
 
 (3) experi- 
 ments of 
 Winch. 
 Greater 
 chance for 
 improve- 
 ment in 
 children 
 than in 
 older per- 
 sons
 
 304 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Bagley's 
 experi- 
 ment 
 
 Identical ele- 
 ments as 
 involving 
 both the 
 content 
 and the 
 form of 
 situations 
 
 involved in each of these experiments, is a case where the simi- 
 larity is, as it were, forced upon the attention. Hence all the 
 devices that can be transferred are in each test definitely 
 summoned forth, and improvement is, to say the least, likely, 
 unless at the initiation of the experiments the subject was 
 already a master of methods of memorizing. And even 
 masters can learn! 
 
 (3) The effect of special habits on general behavior. Under 
 this very large heading I will recount only one simple experi- 
 ment reported by Professor Bagley. 1 School children were 
 trained to be neat in arithmetic papers. They showed no 
 tendency to improve the neatness of papers written in con- 
 nection with other subjects. 
 
 When we compare the conclusions of these experimenters, 
 we find a substantial unanimity of opinion. It is agreed that 
 wherever practice in one exercise leads to improvement in an- 
 other certain specific elements in both are identical, and call 
 forth identical responses which promote success in both exer- 
 cises. The identical elements that are thus distinguished 
 may be divided into two groups, those of content and those 
 of form. As examples of content elements we may mention 
 sounds, colors, letters, nonsense syllables, words, objects, 
 kinds of geometrical figures, standards of measurements, 
 ideas, etc. As one grows familiar with such elements, the 
 power to remember them, and to attend to them when they 
 appear in new situations, and to do what they suggest increases. 
 The elements of form may be said to consist of the character- 
 istics that various situations present as problems for the 
 attacking mind. Thus we recognize one situation as a problem 
 of memorizing where from the nature of the material a par- 
 ticular method of committing to memory may be especially 
 useful. Again, we recognize the need of particular adjust- 
 
 1 The Educative Process, Ch. XIII.
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 305 
 
 ments of perception, such as eye movements which we have 
 already practiced. All situations demand adjustments of 
 attention, some of which may invariably be necessary, while 
 others may suit especially specific kinds of material. 
 
 We observe that elements of form and elements of content 
 are equally specific, equally capable of definition. Moreover, 
 both are capable of generalization; that is, both are capable 
 of appearing in a variety of settings. The problem of general 
 training is, then, quite as much one of discipline in content 
 as it is of discipline in form. A better division of mental dis^ 
 cipline for our purposes would be into two phases, which we 
 may denominate specific discipline and general discipline. 
 Specific discipline consists in the analysis of the specific ele- 
 ments which are found to be critical in determining certain 
 reactions, and in the practice by which the appropriate reac- 
 tion is made the habitual response to each element thus dis- 
 criminated. General discipline consists of training in the 
 recognition of these critical elements in a variety of situations. 
 
 The successful transference of any result of practice or 
 experience depends upon both these phases of discipline. 
 The failure to transfer neatness from arithmetic papers to 
 others in the experiment by Bagley is, doubtless, due to some 
 lack of efficiency in both respects. The specific discipline 
 failed in attaching the reactions connected with neatness with 
 elements which in any situation were expected to call forth 
 these responses. The suggestion which in the practice was 
 associated with neatness was not the thought of any exercise 
 to be presented to the inspection of a teacher, but rather that 
 of an arithmetic paper to be presented to a teacher who insists 
 on neatness. Very naturally, when any of these factors was 
 absent, the children failed to make the response which was 
 associated with the entire group. Or, if, as is likely, we may 
 call the command of the teacher in question the critical sug- 
 
 Discipline as 
 specific 
 and 
 general 
 
 Bagley's ex- 
 periment 
 illustrative 
 of the lack 
 of each sort 
 of disci- 
 pline
 
 306 Principles of Education 
 
 gesting stimulus to put forth the effort desired, then the reason 
 for the lack of transference was that the identical element that 
 prompted the desired reactions was absent from all the test 
 material. No child would be neat unless there were some rea- 
 son for it, and the only reason that had so far appealed to the 
 children was the desirability of conforming to the requirement 
 of the teacher. 
 
 In the second place, the experiment illustrates the lack of 
 any attempt to secure general discipline. If the children had 
 been trained to be neat not only in arithmetic papers, but also 
 in many others, and if many teachers had conspired to enforce 
 this demand, it would have been much more likely that the 
 children would have recognized in some new paper that they 
 were required to present an occasion for the exercise of the 
 virtue in question than they would after any amount of specific 
 drill in neatness in any one connection. 1 
 
 interference We have noted two conditions that give rise to interference. 
 the ladT ^ ^ ne ^ rs ^ case a gi ven reaction is attached to a vague un- 
 of specific analyzed situation rather than to the specific element in that 
 
 discipline, , . . , T 
 
 (2) from emergency to which it constitutes the proper response. In 
 the lack consequence, other situations superficially resembling the first 
 application call forth the reaction, even though the real reason for this 
 habit 6 reaction is wanting. Thus all diseases are treated by the 
 savage medicine man or the Christian Scientist alike. The 
 faith that cures is not properly fitted to the specific condition 
 for which it has real therapeutic value. The fault here lies 
 plainly in inadequate specific discipline. The second case of 
 interference appears where in a new situation a different reac- 
 tion should be made to a stimulus than the one originally 
 learned. This is illustrated in the experiments of Bergstrom 
 
 1 Ruediger, Principles of Education, 108-110, gives an account of supple- 
 mentary experiments on neatness, in which the limitations of Bagley's experi- 
 ment are in a measure removed, with great consquent gain in transference.
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 307 
 
 and Miinsterberg. Here the reaction to a given stimulus was 
 arbitrarily made different. In the practical emergencies of 
 life this form of interference arises because in different circum- 
 stances the same stimulus should be responded to differently. 
 The personal influence by which one has never yet failed to win 
 a child to proper conduct may fail because other influences 
 are leading the child to react differently to the counsels of his 
 mentor. In such cases successful transference depends upon 
 the accurate discrimination of each element in the situation 
 that is critical in determining its treatment, and either the 
 habit or the mental grasp and judgment that correlates these, 
 and from this complex suggestion initiates the proper response. 
 Again, we may say the fault lies in specific discipline. 
 
 In general, we may then say that interference always arises 
 from a lack of critical care, either in forming the habit or in 
 utilizing it. The critical forming of the habit is the task of 
 specific discipline. The critical use of the habit depends to a 
 considerable extent upon such familiarity with a variety of 
 cases where the habit might be resorted to as insures caution in 
 its application. Thus it is very largely a matter of general 
 discipline. However, the main problem of general discipline 
 is, not to prevent interference from the transfer of wrong reac- 
 tions, but rather to insure the transference of the right ones. 
 This it does by making us alert to the critical suggestions wher- 
 ever they may appear. 
 
 We may conclude, then, that there is something which may conclusions 
 appropriately be called formal discipline, and that it may be in rcgar< | 
 more or less general in character. It consists in the establish- discipline 
 ment of habitual reactions that correspond to the form of sit- 
 uations. These reactions foster adjustments, attitudes, and 
 ideas that favor the successful dealing with the emergencies 
 that rouse them. On the other hand, both the form that we 
 can learn to deal with more effectively, and the reactions that
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Transference 
 and the 
 education 
 of the 
 reason 
 
 we associate with it, are definite. There is no general training 
 of the powers or faculties, so far as we can determine. Formal 
 discipline improves mental efficiency wherever new situations 
 correspond in form to ones the treatment of which has been 
 mastered, provided one recognizes or feels this similarity. 
 Such training, like any other culture, consists in the establish- 
 ment of habits of thought and action that will prove useful 
 along dependent lines of development. 
 
 These habits, once established, govern our future activities. 
 Thus it may be said that the transference of training, instead 
 of being an exceptional affair, is the rule. The novelty of a 
 new situation may or may not be felt or apprehended. In the 
 latter case it will be treated as an old one would be, and the cor- 
 responding habits will be transferred uncritically. If the new- 
 ness is noticed, reaction will be slower, but whenever it comes, 
 it will inevitably consist of the responses that are associated 
 with whatever is felt or seen to be familiar in the emergency. 
 Thus the inherent need of action forces transference, general- 
 ization ; and the inherent need of success compels us to correct 
 such transference as, in the phraseology of our experiments, 
 has resulted in interference. 
 
 At bottom successful transference to situations that are 
 more or less new is a matter of intelligence. Of course, one 
 can learn by trial and error methods, and in that event it is 
 well to have in one's equipment of resources a habit or group 
 of habits that will apply, if only we can pick out what we 
 want. However, ideational processes greatly enhance the likeli- 
 hood of immediately successful transference. The problem of 
 whether we can train these was discussed in the last chapter. 
 It will be noted that what has just been called specific discipline, 
 or the formation of an association between a reaction and its 
 universal stimulus, corresponds to the formation of concepts. 
 On the other hand, general discipline, or training to recognize
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 309 
 
 these critical stimuli in new surroundings, corresponds to that 
 inductive method by which concepts are so widely associated 
 with concrete situations that they are apt to be recalled when 
 they are needed. It is evident also that successful transference 
 is fostered not only by such forms of discipline, but also by the 
 power to take the attitudes of originality and of criticism. 
 
 SECTION 34. The theory of formal discipline as an educational 
 
 principle 
 
 If we were to sum up the general principles of educational Educational 
 practice that can be deduced from the preceding discussion of rJhtTng'to 
 the theory of formal discipline, they could be stated about as formal 
 follows : (i) There is no general training of mental power en- 
 tirely apart from the establishment of definite associations. 
 (2) The associations established by discipline may involve 
 responses to the form of a situation, or that about it which sug- 
 gests to the mind a general mode of treatment. Training of this 
 sort maybe called formal discipline, but it is no less definite than 
 instruction in content. (3) Reactions of method, such as 
 result from formal discipline, probably are, on the whole, 
 more widely useful than are definite pieces of information. 
 There are fewer associations to be established by formal dis- 
 cipline, but these can be utilized in a wider field of service. 
 (4) To secure this wider service, or to bring about successful 
 transference, requires a special sort of training, entirely apart 
 from the mere establishments of the specific associations 
 involved. The school does not get general power unless it 
 works for this. (5) Subjects should not be chosen for their 
 formal discipline alone. Training in method is most eco- 
 nomical and most effective when it is given in connection with 
 content the mastery of which is in itself valuable. Some of 
 these points require a little more extended discussion.
 
 310 Principles of Education 
 
 (1) Abandon- (i) The disappearance of the view that there is a vague 
 culture^f 16 S enera l culture of the faculties through use is doubtless a dis- 
 the facul- tinct step ahead in education. It does away with a comfort- 
 able acquiescence in the existing state of affairs, and opens 
 the way for criticism and progress and definite choice as to the 
 
 Resulting subject matter of the curriculum. Moreover, it offers to school 
 atages metno( j a p ro blem which hitherto has been inadequately real- 
 ized ; namely, the problem of bringing about really general 
 effects. Since their attainment cannot be taken for granted, 
 the school must find out how this can be brought about, or 
 give up this important phase in its work, and content itself in 
 training for certain special situations, which can be quite 
 definitely foreseen. 
 
 ( 2 ) Formal (2) If the phrase " formal discipline " is defined in such a way 
 as^rainTng as to mean training in those methods of treatment that are 
 in reactions adapted to what might be called the form of a situation, it is 
 
 important to note that these adjustments are quite definite 
 in character. In criticising the disciplinary training given in 
 the experiments reported by Professor Bagley, it was noted 
 that there was an absence of both specific and of general dis- 
 cipline. On the one hand, the children were not trained to 
 recognize that general characteristic of various situations 
 which constitutes them occasions for the display of neatness, 
 and, on the other, there was no attempt to teach the classes 
 
 Definiteness to recognize this critical characteristic in various surroundings. 
 Formal discipline is specific; that is, definite. It involves 
 definite stimuli and definite responses. 
 
 Difficulty in If we try to realize what these definite factors are, we find 
 neatness that their analysis is not altogether a simple affair. To con- 
 tinue with the illustration used above, it is evident that there 
 are many kinds of neatness, that they differ as to the character 
 of the situations that require them, and also as to the reactions 
 that they involve. There is neatness in written work in the
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 3 1 1 
 
 school, neatness in dress, neatness in arranging one's posses- 
 sions, etc. However, there must be something in common, 
 both in respect to the occasions for neatness and the methods 
 of attaining it ; otherwise they could scarcely be covered by a 
 single word. Professor Bagley declares that the general ele- 
 ment is the "ideal" of neatness, which involves a new set of 
 habits for each situation. This ideal, he believes, can be 
 implanted by instruction in the mind, and its existence facili- 
 tates, in his judgment, the formation of a special set of adjust- 
 ments by which one may conform to its requirements in a spe- 
 cial case. If we have the general ideal of neatness, we will be 
 apt to think of it when we dispose the materials on our study 
 tables, and find out by experiment what sort of arrangement 
 yields the desired result. 
 
 What is this ideal of neatness ? If it be not definite in regard Neatness a 
 to the occasions that suggest it, and the activities and results 
 that satisfy it, one can scarcely see how it can form a stimulus 
 to readjustment. Analysis would seem to reveal these specific 
 factors. In general, the need for neatness arises wherever 
 one is arranging material to be submitted later to the inspec- 
 tion or use either of himself or of some one else. Neatness 
 means such a disposition of that material as insures a pleasing, 
 and in so far an aesthetic, effect on the eye, a ready inspection 
 of the items arranged, or a convenient utilization of them, when 
 they are needed. In short, neatness is that orderly arrange- 
 ment that makes for efficiency, and contributes, doubtless 
 partly because of this quality, to aesthetic satisfaction. The 
 various factors that make up neatness differ widely with the 
 material involved. Usually they include cleanness, al- 
 though to some this conception may be distinct. Dirt, which 
 has been defined as matter out of place, must be absent. This 
 includes blots on paper, spots on clothing, and dust or refuse 
 papers on a study table. In general, however, dirt can be 
 
 definite 
 quality in 
 respect to 
 its occasion, 
 its crite- 
 rion, and its 
 reactions
 
 312 Principles of Education 
 
 recognized by the definite criterion just suggested. Orderly 
 arrangement again varies with circumstances. So far as 
 written school work is concerned, it means legibility, and such 
 an arrangement of material as favors easy inspection. The 
 arrangement desirable in arithmetic would, of course, differ 
 from that required in English. Nevertheless, there is a per- 
 fectly definite, yet perfectly general criterion, which we apply 
 to test whether we have succeeded in getting neat effects. 
 We simply inspect, and judge from the sense of satisfaction, 
 and the ease we feel or think others will feel in scanning the 
 material under criticism whether it can be justly regarded as 
 neat. 
 
 Variation Thus neatness is a definite quality, tested by a definite 
 
 and read- criterion, and demanded by a definite type of situation. The 
 
 justment 
 
 in details of detailed factors of the quality vary from case to case, but there 
 is always sameness in the fundamental factors. The task of 
 specific discipline is to effect the association between the com- 
 mon characteristics of situations requiring neatness and the 
 criterion by which its presence may be tested. In addition, 
 many definite ways of securing neatness, some more, some less 
 general, may be learned or associated with the desire to display 
 this quality. These offer a basis for experimentation, wher- 
 ever new devices are necessary to secure the proper effect. 
 (3) Formal (3) We commonly assume that formal discipline is more 
 
 discipline general than any other kind. This is probably true, though 
 
 as the most . JT . * 
 
 general unimportant. It is evident that formal elements are rela- 
 form of tional in character. When one speaks of classes of situations, 
 
 culture 
 
 he has in mind usually, if not invariably, groupings according 
 to form, such groupings as are based on the relation of the 
 situations to our practical life. Neatness is a requirement of 
 a form of situations, because it cannot be defined apart from 
 the relation between its material and the persons who inspect 
 or use it. Such relationships may be very general. Indeed,
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 313 
 
 it is likely that they are far more general than are the content 
 factors which they relate. The need of memorizing is more 
 commonly encountered in experience than is any fact that one 
 needs to memorize. It is difficult to draw a hard and fast dis- 
 tinction between the relational and the related factors, the form 
 and the content, of experience. However, it is evident that 
 where emphasis is thrown on relation, there we have form, 
 and that there are certain fundamental forms that constitute 
 typical problems, the power to deal with which is a constant 
 asset throughout life. The acquisition of this power may 
 properly be designated as formal discipline. Thus we may 
 speak of training to attend, by which we mean to assume the 
 physiological and mental adjustments of attention, some of 
 which are more and some less general, as being formal disci- 
 pline in so far as it is independent of the content to which atten- 
 tion is given. Moreover, as the adjustments become more 
 and more adapted peculiarly to one content, the merely formal 
 character of the discipline would seem to be lost. Attention 
 to a color is dependent on the memory of this color, as well as 
 upon the general adjustments of attention. On the other The problem 
 hand, it must not be forgotten that content elements constantly 
 recur in new contexts, and so may be regarded as general in same for 
 character. Whatever is worth knowing can be used repeatedly. a d co rm 
 The same color may appear again and again, and be a factor in tent 
 problems that appeal to attention, memory, judgment, and 
 will. Wherever it appears, there will be somewhat of similarity 
 in the situations and in the reactions demanded. Knowledge 
 is always of the universal and for the sake of determining 
 readjustment. If it seems natural and appropriate to desig- 
 nate one phase of a situation as its form, and another as its 
 content, it must be remembered that the part of discipline in 
 reference to each is the same; i.e. to establish associations and 
 reactions which these factors, when they recur, may invariably
 
 314 Principles of Education 
 
 suggest. Moreover, discipline in adjustments to a few type 
 forms would not be of any value if it were not sustained by 
 familiarity with the treatment of a multitude of facts. 
 (4) General (4) But education, whether in form or in content, does not 
 
 discipline sum jt se jf up j n specific discipline, in the establishment of den- 
 necessary * L 
 to efiective nite associations. It includes also general discipline, or the 
 
 training of the power to recognize the occasions for the use of 
 habits or knowledge. The school in its drill has often failed 
 to single out the universal stimulus, occasion, or reason for the 
 habit it teaches. It has just drilled ; drilled without intelli- 
 gence, and so in such a way as to preclude much transfer of its 
 effects. But even intelligent drill is not enough. There must 
 be training to make this intelligence available and forth- 
 coming when it is needed. General power may come of itself, 
 but it is likely that it will not come in any great measure unless 
 it has been nursed by training. General discipline is that sort 
 of culture which we have discussed in connection with the edu- 
 Anaiogy cation of the reason. Habits, like any resources, are made 
 fective" available, not alone by being shaken loose from dependence 
 training in U p O n a narrow group of accidental associations, but also by 
 
 concepts . . . , 1-1 
 
 the acquisition of a great and varied mass of connections, 
 accidental or essential, so that their recall in a new concrete 
 situation may not depend on too tenuous a thread. Again, 
 the formal discipline of the school to be transferred most suc- 
 cessfully should be acquired in a school atmosphere that 
 resembles as much as possible that of life. Moreover, since life 
 is varied, and requires the application of habits and principles 
 with proper emendation according to circumstances, the school 
 environment should be varied and consist of problems in the 
 application of habits as well as knowledge. Most important 
 of all the habits that discipline can inculcate are those rational 
 attitudes of originality and criticism, the assumption of which 
 is the most favorable condition for the wide and accurate ap-
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 315 
 
 plication of other attitudes and adjustments that culture has 
 instilled. 
 
 (5) When we come to the matter of the curriculum, it is (s) NO study 
 evident that no study should exist in the school simply because g iv " n 
 it exercises a few general powers and develops a few habits merely for 
 that may be extensively employed. The only adequate justi- discipline 
 fkation of a subject is that the habits and the experience that 
 it furnishes sum up a more valuable total than the habits and 
 experience that its introduction excludes from the curriculum. 
 In this comparison, no gain is made by separating formal from 
 content values. Both are equally specific, and may be equally 
 general. The method of study is a factor of the greatest im- 
 portance, but because of this fact it is a value most generally 
 present among the educational advantages of subjects and, 
 therefore, least available as a criterion of their relative excel- 
 lence. Men are prone to think that a subject worth while 
 only for its methods is for that reason more valuable for method 
 than any other. The exact contrary is more nearly the fact ; 
 for, as we have seen, a method studied in connection with a 
 variety of matter corresponding to that which is mastered in 
 life through its employment is one most likely to be transferred 
 to living situations. 
 
 Here it may be urged that we are forgetting the importance intensive 
 of intensive as against extensive study. It is a common opin- {"^JJoj 
 ion that work in which certain methods are dwelt on to the should be 
 exclusion of other interests brings these methods into clear wrtn'its 
 relief, emphasizes their nature, and drills in their use, so that use with 
 the pupils really become masters of them in a degree impossible problems 
 were the mind absorbed in a content to the comprehension of 
 which such methods are only auxiliary. While we may grant 
 the importance of intensive study to be fundamental, we may 
 still maintain that, taken by itself, its results are narrow. 
 For the sake of discrimination and drill certain stimuli and
 
 316 Principles of Education 
 
 their reactions must be isolated and practiced, but for the sake 
 of their practical application these ideas and habits must be 
 illustrated and used in a variety of concrete cases, where the 
 main interest is not the method but the results that are attained 
 through its use. Thus in the last analysis method and content 
 are interwoven, and there is no mastery of the one apart from 
 a grip upon the other. 
 
 Difficulty in It follows that no subject can really justify itself except by 
 appraising s h owm g that it is through and through interpenetrated with 
 of subjects vitality. Content and form should both contribute, and con- 
 tribute in alliance with each other, to living efficiency. Here 
 we encounter the objection that in modern life the conditions 
 are so complex and variable that it is exceedingly difficult 
 to determine with any approach to conclusiveness the relative 
 value of subjects for practical efficiency. Indeed, if this ques- 
 tion were settled for one, it would by no means be settled for 
 all, and any appraisement of value for one time would doubt- 
 less have to be modified before many years had passed. The 
 argument from formal discipline has, as we have seen, gained 
 much of its attractiveness from the difficulty of substituting 
 for it satisfactory methods of determining relative value. 
 However, this difficulty should not blind us to the inadequacy 
 of the conception as a criterion. Disciplinary values depend 
 in final reduction upon the same factors as any other ones. 
 We can no longer plead the conception of a vague culture of the 
 faculties. Our scientific sense cries out for something more 
 definite, more decisive. Perhaps the organization of educa- 
 tional research, of which we are now witnessing the beginning, 
 may hold in store for us at least an approximation to the solu- 
 tion of our problem. 
 
 Conclusion In conclusion, then, it seems likely that the psychologists 
 have done a great service to education in setting aside the old 
 conception of a vague formal discipline, and thereby clearing
 
 The Question of Formal Discipline 317 
 
 the way for a study of definite disciplinary effects and the 
 method by which they may most effectively be realized. While 
 teachers will doubtless continue, as in the past, to value most 
 highly those general attitudes and adjustments which consti- 
 tute the methods by which the human mind approaches various 
 classes of problems, they will strive to ascertain the exact 
 nature of these, to appraise them, and to set them side by side 
 with the knowledge of content, apart from which they can 
 neither be acquired nor utilized.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Imitation 
 the most 
 general 
 form of 
 educative 
 activity 
 
 Imitation 
 especially 
 valuable 
 as a 
 
 socializing 
 agency 
 
 IMITATION 
 
 SECTION 35. The function of imitation 
 
 THE great stress that genetic psychology and sociology have 
 placed upon imitation is, doubtless, in large measure justified. 
 While it is possible that the formula of the "circular activity" l 
 is not all-explanatory in the growth of human powers, and that 
 the epigram "society is imitation" 2 is an inadequate account 
 of this institution, nevertheless, these conceptions have unques- 
 tionably contributed an enormous amount to the comprehen- 
 sion of mental and social evolution. The form of imitation 
 is one of the simplest and most universal that the process of 
 individual readjustment can take. Granted that the customs 
 of others are well selected, one may save an enormous amount 
 of experimentation if he has a tendency to imitate them. 
 In general, these customs are far more useful than anything 
 that the individual could learn without imitating. Hence 
 imitation, so far from being regarded with scorn, should be 
 considered as the most nearly omnipresent form than educative 
 activity assumes. Recapitulatory education, as social hered- 
 ity, consists largely of imitations. 
 
 The adjustments learned by imitation find their especial 
 value in affording adaptation to social life. However, they may 
 help the individual to effective action in cases where only iso- 
 lated activity is concerned. Men imitate methods of hunting 
 
 1 Compare Baldwin, Mental Development, Methods and Processes. 
 
 2 Compare Tarde, The Laws of Imitation.
 
 Imitation 319 
 
 and fishing, the construction and manipulation of tools, making 
 and using fire, clothing, etc., thus increasing vastly the effi- 
 ciency of the individual. But in helping them to cooperate, 
 imitation is doing a service that far surpasses anything it can 
 give in any other direction. Cooperation may in its later 
 developments admit of individuality and specialization, but it 
 finds its foundations in social solidarity or conformity, in like- 
 ness in action, feeling, and thought among the members of the 
 social group. It is mass activity rather than the division of 
 labor that renders early society especially effective. In attack, 
 in defense, in warning of danger, or in disseminating informa- 
 tion, in assisting in the gaining of food, or in sharing with those 
 who are temporarily unable to get what they need, and the 
 like, we find the fundamental uses of social life. In fact, it is 
 only to further these basic common purposes that specialization 
 exists. 
 
 Cooperation is so valuable an instrumentality in the struggle consequent 
 for existence that the societies that survive are as a rule those survival 
 
 111 ? i T\ M i value of 
 
 that develop a maximum of such activity. Primarily social imitative- 
 action is a matter of instinct, but of instinct that in the higher ness 
 animals is supplemented and in man overshadowed by imita- 
 tion. Heredity gives a foundation of similar functions, but 
 imitation brings into conformity the methods by which these 
 are carried out. It reduces to the uniform the actions, thoughts, 
 and feelings of men. This uniformity enables them to get on 
 with each other, and to mass activity upon common purposes. 
 Hence man, when he becomes more social, becomes more imi- 
 tative, and since social action is so important an adjustment, 
 mankind, especially civilized man, seems to get by far the most 
 important part of his education through imitation. 
 
 Learning by imitation finds its great effectiveness in that it 
 goes on without any conscious purpose. By the mechanism 
 of certain psycho-physiological laws one inevitably imitates
 
 320 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Imitation 
 illustrated 
 in all 
 phases of 
 learning 
 
 Imitation a 
 selective 
 process, 
 for (i) it 
 transmits 
 selected 
 habits ; 
 
 (2) it is en- 
 forced by 
 social pres- 
 sure, a 
 selective 
 agency ; 
 
 the models that his environment presents. Of course, in its 
 more , advanced forms, imitation is under the control of will 
 and directed by reason. Thus there are all stages of learning by 
 imitation, from mere trial and error approximation to a pattern 
 not consciously imitated to deliberate copying of a model 
 supposed to be desirable. When one has imitated blindly an 
 effective way of acting or thinking, he tends to realize the value 
 of the result, and in the future to look more and more to the 
 models of others, as something attention to which cannot fail 
 to produce good effects. 
 
 Fundamentally imitation does not create any resources of 
 mind or body, but simply furthers a selective process that is 
 ordinarily of very great advantage. One can imitate only 
 what he can do, and, indeed, as a rule, what he has already 
 done, or something very like it. When we seem to copy some 
 novel act, what we really do is to call upon our resources, in 
 order, by experimentation with them, to approximate to the 
 model that constrains us. This model is a selective agency, 
 serving to eliminate our false efforts. Through its control 
 we build up rapidly a habit, which, because it has been tested 
 by the practice of society, perhaps for ages, is, as it were, the 
 embodiment of ages of elimination. Imitation saves time and 
 effort in experimentation. It is an agency of economy, of 
 selection. 
 
 This selective function of imitation continues in evidence 
 in connection with the insights and standards that it helps to 
 bring to consciousness. These are especially associated with 
 the constitution and mechanism of society. Since society is so 
 important an agency for survival, the efforts of man are directed 
 largely toward adaptation to the social environment, through 
 which all other necessities of life are to be obtained. Social 
 adaptation is, as we have seen, largely a matter of imitation. 
 Moreover, not only the welfare of the individual, but of others
 
 Imitation 
 
 321 
 
 in society depends upon the extent to which he conforms or 
 imitates. The imitative person is the socially desirable person. 
 It becomes, therefore the, interest of society to compel its mem- 
 bers to imitate. By instinct or conscious purpose it neglects, 
 harries, banishes, outlaws, destroys the individual who fails 
 to conform, and so to cooperate. Thus natural selection is 
 supplemented by social selection in the elimination of the non- 
 imitative. 
 
 The intensity of this social pressure forces more clearly upon 
 the mind of the individual the great importance to him of doing 
 and thinking after the fashion of others. The conception of 
 social practice, opinion, and attitude becomes a standard of 
 judgment in the selection of efficient conduct. In order to 
 understand how to conform, the individual must know not only 
 what others are doing now, but he must learn the general prin- 
 ciples that govern their actions. He must penetrate into the 
 nature of his companions. This means that he must develop 
 a clear consciousness of self and of others ; that is, of what 
 may be called the social elements. He must realize the stand- 
 ards to which other persons are striving to conform, standards 
 which they are applying to him in their judgments of his con- 
 duct. He must attain a fairly universal concept of himself 
 in order to judge as to whether he is, on the whole, conforming 
 properly to the principles of social conduct. In short, the 
 comprehension of that general standard, the socially accept- 
 able, leads to the conception of personality both in self and in 
 others, and to the specific norms on the basis of which social 
 conformity may be attained. 
 
 Imitation operates selectively, but it is also the most excel- 
 lent example of how selection operates to expand resources. 
 It will be remembered 1 that this comes about through (i) the 
 establishment of fundamental habits or concepts, out of 
 
 1 Compare 27. 
 
 (3) it leads 
 to a knowl- 
 edge of 
 social 
 standards, 
 and of the 
 minds that 
 think them 
 
 The selected 
 products of 
 imitation 
 as a basis 
 for expan- 
 sion of re-
 
 322 Principles of Education 
 
 the combination of which an enormous number of effective 
 constructions can be made in order to deal with new, compli- 
 cated situations ; (2) the construction and reconstruction of 
 experience by the application of standard concepts, so that 
 perception becomes sharper and richer in background, memory 
 more accurate and complete, and the memory of the individual 
 expanded into conformity with the memory of the social group; 
 (3) the reenforcement of the memory of habit by bringing it 
 into conformity with the logical relationships revealed by the 
 analysis and criticism of the concepts. Imitation affords help 
 in all these directions. Perhaps the best example of its effec- 
 tiveness is to be found in language. Articulate language is 
 acquired through imitation. But it sharpens our apprehension 
 of the qualities that we perceive ; it stimulates, defines, and 
 strengthens the imagination. Both as oral and written, it 
 offers a most extraordinary help to memory, ultimately enabling 
 the individual to seize and retain a clear and consistent picture 
 not only of his own past, but also of the minds of others and the 
 experience of the race. The effects of language upon mental 
 resources are merely typical of those of any product of imita- 
 tive activity. 
 
 The general function of imitation is, then, to be found in the 
 guidance it affords to the process of experimentation. Through 
 conscious or unconscious constraint of attention to the models 
 afforded by others we very rapidly attain adjustments that 
 undirected experimentation would find very difficult or impos- 
 sible. These adjustments may enable the individual to deal 
 directly with nature or to cooperate with society. The latter 
 type of adjustment constitutes the most extensive and valuable 
 of the contributions of imitation to the equipment of man. 
 In society it is necessary that nearly all should cooperate, or 
 conform, if any are to gain an advantage from this source. 
 Hence society compels conformity, imitation. Thus we imi-
 
 Imitation 323 
 
 tate, not only unconsciously and because we see the advantage 
 of adopting the habits of others, but also because we cannot 
 get on without accepting their standards. In striving to attaiii 
 these, we must come into a knowledge of the prevailing ideals 
 and customs, and hence must become acquainted with the 
 minds of others and with our own personality. All this is 
 essentially a process of selection, contributory to judgment, 
 but it reacts on one's resources by clarifying them, criticising 
 them, using them in reconstructing and in constructing images 
 and ideas, the memories of one's past, and of the race. Knowl- 
 edge systematized is apt to be firmly memorized, and hence 
 rendered readily available. The selective function of imita- 
 tion, and the resulting enrichment of the mind, is well illustrated 
 by language, one of its most important products. 
 
 SECTION 36. Psycho-physiological mechanism of imitation 
 
 Imitation may be defined as the reproduction of the acts of Definition of 
 others as a result of perceiving or remembering them. The 
 term has been applied in a wider sense to include the repe- 
 tition of one's previous acts, as in the case of habits, or the 
 revival of earlier mental states, as in memory. Here one is 
 said to imitate himself. But while the associations that ex- 
 plain habit and memory also explain imitation, it is, perhaps, 
 better in the discussion of imitation as a form of education to 
 confine the concept to acts or ideas suggested by others. 
 
 From the point of view of their genesis, acts of imitation may imitation as 
 be divided into those which are instinctive and those which are st nctive 
 learned or acquired. It must be kept in mind that what is in- and ac - 
 
 . , . quired 
 
 stinctive or acquired is the tendency to perform an act in re- 
 sponse to the perception or thought of it. Instinctive imi- 
 tative acts seem to find illustration frequently both in animals 
 and in men. Among timid animals, such as sheep, the per-
 
 324 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Formation 
 of the 
 " imitative 
 associa- 
 tion" 
 
 ception of a companion running as from fear will usually start 
 imitative acts. Not only in the stampede, but also in other 
 activities, such as those of the search for food, etc., we find 
 what seems like instinctive imitation among the lower animals. 
 Of course, it is always possible to suppose that the direct stimu- 
 lus to the imitative act is not the perception of the activity of 
 others, but rather some idea of danger, food, or the like which 
 is suggested by this perception. What actually happens on 
 this notion is, for example, that the chicken perceives another 
 chicken scratching. This suggests the notion of food, and this 
 notion in turn causes the chicken that gets it to scratch. 
 
 Whatever we may say about instinctive acts, it is certain 
 that there are many imitative acts that are acquired. One 
 learns to perform an act on perceiving another do it. Without 
 doubt, the physiological process by which this is accomplished 
 consists in the formation of an association in the cortex of the 
 brain between the sensory areas that are excited when one per- 
 ceives or imagines a certain act, and the motor areas that con- 
 trol the performance of this act. The establishment of such 
 an association means the acquisition of control over the move- 
 ment. Such control is originally a product of experimental 
 activity. It rests back apparently on the following physio- 
 logical law of association. When different parts of the cortex 
 of the brain are excited simultaneously or in immediate suc- 
 cession, and the accompanying experiences are satisfactory, the 
 two parts tend to become connected, so that the subsequent 
 reexcitement of the one tends to stir up the other. Now as 
 the child moves in a random, uncontrolled fashion, he at the 
 same time gets sensations that result from this action. He 
 perceives through sight, or hearing, or touch, or, at any rate, 
 through the kinaesthetic sense, what he has done. The sensory 
 areas involved in perceiving the act are thus excited at prac- 
 tically the same time as the motor area the random stimulation
 
 Imitation 325 
 
 of which produced it. Hence these regions become associated ; 
 that is, if the sense of the activity in question is satisfactory. 
 The establishment of this association means that in the future 
 the excitement of the sensory areas in connection with the 
 perception or thought of this act will tend to spread into the 
 motor area that controls it. Hence it will be imitated. 
 
 It is evident that, unless the association just described imitative as- 
 exists in the brain, the perception of an act will not lead, ex- de^dent 
 cept by chance or by voluntary experiment, to its reproduction, on the per- 
 Hence children do not learn to do things primarily by per- onthTacts 
 ceiving them done by others, but only as a result of their own the y con - 
 activity. Only thus are the motor areas that control their 
 muscles brought into the proper association with the sensory 
 areas concerned in the perception of the movements. The 
 perception of the acts of others may, however, start random 
 experimentation, which eventuates in the successful reproduc- 
 tion of these movements. In that case, the association by 
 which imitation is made possible is established, and this is the 
 method of much learning by imitation. 
 
 Clearly enough, whenever the child moves, whether it be Rise of "dr- 
 reflex, instinctive, random, or experimental activity, the re- h^ancT" 
 suits are apt to be perceived, and the sensori-motor associa- ^ "Ca- 
 tion, which may, perhaps, properly be called the "imitative 
 association," tends to be formed. Thus in a short time the 
 child has developed an enormous number of such associations. 
 Their existence involves the " circular activity" of Professor 
 Baldwin. This consists in the tendency for an act to be con- 
 tinually repeated, because its performance leads to its per- 
 ception, and this again to its performance. Children dis- 
 play this tendency to prolonged repetition. Moreover, when 
 a child has formed many of the "imitative associations" he 
 tends to reproduce of necessity many perceived acts. Any- 
 thing that he can do, or anything like what he can do, will be
 
 326 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Imitation 
 as deter- 
 mining 
 the asso- 
 ciations 
 that shall 
 survive 
 
 The imitative 
 impulse as 
 instigating 
 experi- 
 ments 
 
 mechanically imitated. He reaches an imitative age, in which 
 his actions seem largely to consist of mimicry. 
 
 Such imitation of what the child has already learned to do 
 strengthens the associations involved into firmer habits. On 
 the other hand, the imitative association, if it be not stirred 
 into activity by the perception of others performing the act 
 to which it leads, will tend to die out for lack of use and nour- 
 ishment. Thus imitation determines survival among the in- 
 cipient associations, stimulating some and so building them 
 up into habits, and eliminating others. This process may not 
 improperly be called a form of learning by imitation. 
 
 We may distinguish three forms of learning by imitation, 
 (i) The learning that consists in imitative formation of hab- 
 its out of some incipient associations, and the neglect of others. 
 This may be regarded as learning, inasmuch as the habits 
 that are thus established are, on the whole, those best calcu- 
 lated to enable the individual to get on. Like all learning, 
 this process is one of experimentation and selection. The 
 experiments are associations, most of which are initiated by 
 non-imitative impulses. The selection is under the control of 
 imitation. (2) Many acts are for the first time performed 
 under the stimulus of the perception of similar acts. This 
 mental condition starts experimental activity, which tends 
 to be somewhat like the apprehended movements. Now if 
 the model act continues to be kept before the attention, be- 
 cause it is repeated, or because it possesses interest enough to 
 be kept clearly in memory, or because of an effort of will, 
 experimentation may continue until a fairly accurate repro- 
 duction is for the first time made by the child. This is per- 
 sistent imitation. By it one learns to do what he has never 
 done before. Imitation helps to initiate experiments, as well 
 as to determine survival among them. (3) Consciousness 
 may enter in to contrive such a combination or modification of
 
 Imitation 327 
 
 acts over which one has already gained control as will conform imitation 
 to the model. Here the starting point is not the mere impulse 
 to do something somewhat like what is perceived, even if one planned 
 cannot imitate it exactly; but there is a consciousness of such 
 impulses and of the acts to which they lead which directs the 
 imitative process. 
 
 We have already pointed out that it is likely that some acts The imitative 
 are instinctively imitated The "imitative association" may 
 be inborn It is hard to be certain of this, however, since as 
 soon as these acts are performed as a result of any sort of stim- 
 ulus, the conditions are present for the formation of the "imi- 
 tative association." For example, chickens may run and 
 hide long before they do these things as a result of perceiving 
 others acting thus. Nevertheless, it is likely that this act is 
 so fundamentally important as a means of self-preservation 
 that it and the emotions that are excited in such an emergency 
 can be roused imitatively as well as by the perception of a 
 hawk, a fox, or some other dangerous foe. It is hard to under- 
 stand how the "imitative associations" could be so well and 
 so early established by individual experience as to enable them 
 to produce such perfect terror and such similarity in the meth- 
 ods of protection. It would seem, therefore, almost certain 
 that there is genuine instinctive imitation. Moreover, there 
 is also imperfect instinctive imitation. It is likely that many 
 centers in the brain are naturally in close connection with motor 
 centers that control the movements likely to result in the sensa- 
 tions in which they are concerned. The auditory tract seems to 
 be naturally connected with the motor centers controlling speech, 
 so that the hearing of sound leads at once to the production of 
 sound. Such inborn connections, although vague, may assist 
 much toward correct imitation, causing the early responses to 
 certain stimuli to come nearer a reproduction of these stimuli 
 than could possibly be the case by mere random reactions.
 
 328 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Growth from 
 uncon- 
 scious to 
 purposive 
 imitation 
 
 Voluntary 
 imitation 
 not com- 
 mon in the 
 lower ani- 
 mals 
 
 Turning again to the classification of imitative acts, we can 
 distinguish among acquired imitations such as are involuntary 
 from such as are genuinely voluntary. Early imitation is, as 
 we have seen, largely a matter of unthinking mechanical ne- 
 cessity. We imitate, on the one hand, because the "imitative 
 associations" are formed, and, on the other, because our atten- 
 tion is constantly directed toward those supremely interesting 
 things, the movements of others of our kind. The constant 
 presence of models that can be imitated combines with the 
 mechanism for converting the perception of them into mimi- 
 cry. Soon, however, in intelligent beings both the fact and the 
 advantages of imitation become apprehended At this stage 
 persistent imitation becomes more in evidence. From a 
 blind tendency that seems to represent a sort of feeling of the 
 desirability of continuing experimentation until the model is 
 reproduced, it becomes a purposeful effort to do what is seen 
 to be a desirable thing. The awareness of the superior skill of 
 others, and of the prejudice of society in favor of imitation, 
 both assist the growth of voluntary imitation. 
 
 It is not likely that the lower animals imitate voluntarily 
 very much, if at all. Herein lies the reason for the theory * 
 that they do not learn by imitation. They do not, at least to 
 any extent, repeat the acts of others with the distinct idea of 
 attaining the same results by so doing. If, for example, a 
 monkey gets into a cage by opening a latch that it has ob- 
 served another monkey or a man to manipulate, it may be 
 simply imitating the act upon which its attention is fixed 
 without any conscious intention of thereby effecting a certain de- 
 sirable result. If, however, it selects the specific act that mas- 
 ters the situation from among others just as likely in themselves 
 to provoke imitation, it would seem to display purposeful imita- 
 tion. Such cases are described by Hobhouse. 2 This inves- 
 
 1 Compare Thorndike, Animal Intelligence. z Mind in Evolution.
 
 Imitation 329 
 
 tigator makes the point that the ability to learn through imi- 
 tation depends very largely upon the animal's power of atten- 
 tion. If it be able to attend closely enough to the acts of a 
 companion to note what movements bring about the desirable 
 result, it can learn by imitation. With most animals the at- 
 tention wanders so quickly that they are unable to note the 
 connection between a specific act and its consequences. They 
 may imitate acts without reference to purposes, but, if their 
 minds are bent on purposes, they cannot attend also to the 
 acts by which these are attained. Instead of learning from 
 its companion the trick of opening a gate, the typical dog 
 simply associates this clever mate with the removal of the 
 obstacle. It apprehends no way to get through except to 
 seek the aid of the dog with the open sesame. Many children 
 betray a similar lack of power to imitate purposively. 
 
 It is, however, a narrow interpretation to limit learning by Lower 
 imitation to voluntary imitation. To do so would be to neg- 
 lect he important directive influence of imitation in empha- invohm- 
 sizing without one's knowing it appropriate adjustments, and 
 in stimulating experiment toward these. Doubtless, lower 
 animals imitate very little voluntarily, but mimicry plays, 
 nevertheless, a very important part hi helping them to acquire 
 effective habits. 
 
 From the genetic point of view, another distinction is of Growth 
 the same importance as is that between involuntary and vol- 
 
 untary imitation. It is that between the imitation of simple of simple 
 
 J acts to that 
 
 acts and of general plans. At the one extreme, we have the O f general 
 mere repetition of sounds, gestures, or reflex or habitual ac- plan 
 tivities, such as coughing, running, or hiding. At the other, 
 we have a purpose and a general scheme for its realization 
 adopted from others, but the specific methods by which it is 
 carried out may vary widely. If, inspired by the success of 
 some one in a certain profession, a young man chooses to fol-
 
 330 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Imitation 
 of general 
 plans 
 rarely 
 found 
 in lower 
 animals 
 
 Summary 
 
 low this career, he may be led to adopt an entirely different 
 course in order to prepare therefor. He imitates, but only in 
 the most general way. The adaptation of a plan, which is 
 suggested by the example of others, to the resources, circum- 
 stances, and tastes of one's own life provides abundant oppor- 
 tunity for reasoning. Such activity begins early in the play 
 life of the child in what is known as dramatic imitation. 1 
 
 Just as the lower animals show very little purposeful imi- 
 tation, so they are rarely found to imitate and adapt a plan. 
 Hobhouse cites a very simple case illustrating the beginnings 
 of such an activity. Food is placed on a high shelf, and at- 
 tached thereto is a string which dangles down within reach. 
 By pulling the string the experimenter secures the food for a 
 dog. Later the dog gets down the food for himself by pulling 
 the string with his teeth. The situation here is so simple, 
 and the adaptation of the man's movement to the dog's re- 
 sources so natural and inevitable that it lies quite within the 
 range of brute thinking. It illustrates not only the inception 
 of the imitation of plans, but also the beginning of purposeful 
 imitation. 
 
 To sum up, we may say that imitation depends upon the 
 existence of the "imitative association." This is an associa- 
 tion between the sensory area concerned in the perception 
 or thought of a movement and the motor area that controls 
 this movement. Such associations may exist hereditarily, 
 in which case we have instinctive or reflex imitation. Imper- 
 fect instinctive imitation may exist where the imitative asso- 
 ciations are vague and indefinite instead of being specific. The 
 imitative association may be formed only when the child him- 
 self makes the movement. Such associations tend to be estab- 
 lished as a result of early reflex or random movements. Learn- 
 ing by imitation means (i) the fixation of some of these 
 
 1 Compare Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child Study, Ch. VIII.
 
 Imitation 331 
 
 associations by the repetitions suggested by the example of 
 others, or (2) the experimentation to reproduce an observed act 
 not yet under the control of the experimenter, or (3) imitative 
 experimentation under the direction of reasoning. 
 
 From the genetic point of view, imitation begins as the 
 spontaneous imitation of simple acts, and grows through the 
 building up of the imitative associations and the growth of 
 knowledge as to the advantages of imitation into voluntary 
 imitation, on the one hand, and the imitation of plans, on the 
 other. Voluntary imitation demands purpose and a certain 
 power of persistent effort. It finds its beginning in per- 
 sistent imitation. The imitation of plans involves reasoning 
 to adapt one's resources to the plan he is copying. It is early 
 illustrated in the dramatic imitations of children. 
 
 SECTION 37. Psychical effects of imitation 
 
 We have just seen that the growth of the imitative function imitation as 
 involves enhanced power of discrimination, a sense of the su- compelling 
 
 x discnmma- 
 
 perior efficiency of the movements of others, the growth of a tkmand 
 purpose .to copy them, and the rational power to adapt the 
 aims and plans of others to the circumstances of one's own 
 life. According to the functional view of mind, we discrimi- 
 nate only when it is necessary to do so in order to make appro- 
 priate reactions. The experience of imitation is full of blun- 
 ders and failures. Accurate and successful imitation makes a 
 heavy demand upon keen discrimination Again, one notes 
 how much better he gets on when he happens to do as others do 
 than when he simply follows his own devices. This advantage 
 is so nearly uniform that it easily grips the attention, and enables 
 the formation of a purpose to imitate. Such a purpose in- 
 creases the amount of imitative activity, and hence puts greater 
 burdens upon the powers of discrimination and of reasoning.
 
 332 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Imitation 
 the basis 
 of social 
 feelings 
 and in- 
 sights 
 
 Basis of the 
 psychical 
 effects of 
 imitation 
 
 Community 
 feeling due 
 to instinc- 
 tive or- 
 ganic imi- 
 tation 
 
 Common 
 feelings 
 suggestive 
 of common 
 ideas 
 
 Thus imitation not only profits by mental development, 
 but helps it on. As it is essentially a social activity, the feel- 
 ings and insights to which this mental development leads are 
 mainly social. Moreover, it may be said that the social con- 
 sciousness that is fostered by imitation could scarcely find 
 any other adequate nurse. We may group this consciousness 
 under three heads : (i) community feeling and cognition ; 
 
 (2) consciousness of the social elements, that is, of the self 
 and of others as subjective entities, centers of consciousness ; 
 
 (3) consciousness of the social norms, or of the standards 
 upon which social judgment and action are or should be based. 
 
 The mental advances that imitation promotes are a result of 
 (i) the motor experiences that it affords, (2) the problems with 
 which it faces us, and (3) the attitudes that it leads us to take. 
 Community feeling and cognition are largely an outcome of 
 the first of these factors. We have such community con- 
 sciousness when the members of a social group feel similarly, 
 or perceive, imagine, or think about the same things. The 
 common activity that results from imitation favors com- 
 munity feeling, because our activities determine our feelings. 
 Here we may again invoke the James-Lange theory of the 
 emotions, to which we have referred. 1 It will be noted that 
 the bodily activities that are especially concerned in rousing 
 emotions are the internal organic disturbances. These can, 
 without doubt, be propagated by imitation. The frightened 
 acts of a chicken or a sheep are quickly reproduced by their 
 fellows, with resultant spread of fear. Such imitation may 
 be called instinctive organic imitation, and it is, doubtless, 
 the basis of the unreflective sympathy of social beings. 
 
 Imitation communicates feelings because the imitative acts 
 are themselves the basis of the feelings they transmit. We act 
 similarly, and hence feel similarly. It communicates ideas 
 
 1 Compare n.
 
 Imitation 333 
 
 because these common feelings get associated with similar 
 ideas and constitute a powerful agency to suggest them. To 
 illustrate, a child imitates the acts of fear. Soon he feels 
 frightened, and fear stimulates his imagination to picture out 
 the possible source of danger. The definiteness of these 
 images will depend upon the vigor of the imagination. More- 
 over, the other attendant circumstances, which are noted by 
 perception, will contribute to determine the specific image 
 that is held to be most likely to represent the danger. We 
 have here a semi-logical process of hypothesis and verification, 
 such as appears in perceptual control. However, the extraor- 
 dinary effectiveness of the feelings of activity in controlling 
 the attention must be kept in mind. If one sees a companion 
 exhibiting fear, and begins to imitate him, it requires much 
 reassuring experience to dispel the images of danger and to 
 check the reactions that excite the emotion. 
 
 The vigorous emotions are not the only motor feelings that Common 
 suggest common thoughts to imitating individuals. The 
 general direction of attention and the tone of consciousness are and same- 
 largely determined by the sense of what we are doing. Motor direction C 
 adjustments settle the course that thought shall elect to take, ofatten- 
 
 ... . tion 
 
 Hence, when we imitate movements, we project thought into 
 channels similar to those followed by our models. Merely to 
 express one's self in speech and writing helps one to control 
 the current of his thoughts, and that not merely because the 
 sound or sight of the words fixes attention, but especially 
 because the feelings of movement dominate it. Hence the 
 imitation not only of the expressions of emotion, but of any 
 sort of movement, contributes very materially to render thought 
 uniform. 
 
 The community feelings and ideas that imitation spreads 
 about find their function in further consequences to which they 
 lead. As we have seen, the feelings and especially the ideas
 
 334 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Interaction 
 of the 
 thought 
 and feeling 
 of a group 
 through 
 expression 
 and 
 imitation 
 
 Resulting 
 compre- 
 hensive- 
 ness and 
 sanity of 
 common 
 judgment 
 
 of the imitator will differ somewhat from those of the model. 
 First of all, imitations are, of course, never exact reproduc- 
 tions. The imitation is characterized by the peculiarities of 
 the individual who produces it. It is also determined by his 
 special situation, which is always a little different from that 
 of the model. Since the reactions differ, the feelings will dif- 
 fer. Moreover, the accompanying perceptions wih 1 differ, 
 since imitated and imitator occupy somewhat different situ- 
 ations. Finally, the trend of thought is determined, not 
 only by motor feelings and present perceptions, but also by 
 past experience, which is likely to differ among the individu- 
 als of an imitating group. Now the feeling and the thought 
 that ensue upon imitation are the stimuli upon which subse- 
 quent action will depend. Hence these later activities among 
 the members of the imitating group will tend to differ more 
 and more. On the other hand, since these individuals are 
 continually observing and copying each other, there is a con- 
 stant tendency for these variant streams of feeling and thought 
 to return through expression and imitation toward a common 
 character. 
 
 We have here a sort of a social mind held together by the 
 associative links of imitative activity, similarity in emotional 
 and cognitive nature, and common circumstances and expe- 
 rience. On the other hand, the mental differences bring to 
 bear upon the common action a variety of experiences, indi- 
 vidual attitudes, and points of view, that all contribute some- 
 what to the resulting group activity. The interplay of thought 
 and feeling among the individuals of an imitating group is 
 somewhat like the reflective processes of a deliberating in- 
 dividual, in whom new considerations derived both from per- 
 ception and from memory are continually appearing and de- 
 termining the drift of mind toward judgment. There can be 
 little doubt that, however extreme and unbalanced some of
 
 Imitation 
 
 335 
 
 its consequences may be, the social mind that imitations foster 
 contributes, on the whole, comprehensiveness and sanity to 
 the common action. This is especially in evidence when imi- 
 tative activity takes the form of language. 
 
 The second important psychical advance to which imita- 
 tion leads is the growth of self-consciousness and the conscious- 
 ness of other minds. This phase of mental genesis has been 
 exploited especially by Professor Baldwin. 1 It is, of course, 
 peculiar to human beings, as no one of the lower animals can 
 be supposed to be capable of the memory, the comparisons, and 
 the distinctions that are necessary. The details of the process, 
 called by Baldwin "the dialectic of personal growth," may be 
 condensed as follows : - 
 
 The child first establishes his physical orientation. He 
 distinguished his own body from other objects. His own body 
 is peculiar, in that it yields sensations when objects come in 
 contact with it, and yields pain when these contacts are too 
 rough. Moreover, unlike other things, it is always present 
 and is under the direct control of the child's impulses. But 
 other objects are to be separated into classes. Some, the 
 bodies of other animals, are especially interesting. They 
 move, and moving objects are very attractive to the attention. 
 Moreover, they move in ways unaccountable to the child, 
 and are hence provocative of curiosity. The movements of 
 persons possess the additional interest of contributing in the 
 most marked way to the satisfaction of the child's desires, both 
 social and individualistic. So far, however, mental analysis 
 has not made use of the guidance of imitation, and the subjec- 
 tive worlds of self and of others have not been directly appre- 
 hended. 
 
 It has been seen, however, that all this interest in the acts 
 of persons will render certain as much spontaneous imitation 
 1 Compare the two volumes on Mental Development. 
 
 Imitation 
 as a source 
 of the con- 
 sciousness 
 of self and 
 others 
 
 Causes of 
 interest in 
 one's own 
 'body and 
 in those of 
 others
 
 336 Principles of Education 
 
 imitation of them as the physical organization of the child will permit, 
 (ilthe sub- Such imitations yield new motor feelings, new emotions, and 
 jective side suggest new ideas. Thus the child gets the "subjective" 
 andof ^if ; ^e of the acts of others. If he possesses adequate memory, 
 he can project these new experiences back into the person whom 
 he has imitated, or into any other person who may act simi- 
 larly. To perform certain acts means to get experiences dif- 
 ferent from what one gets by merely observing them. Others 
 who are acting are discovered to feel differently from the self 
 which is perceiving their acts. They are having the same 
 feelings as the self gets when it imitates these acts. Thus 
 other minds get differentiated from the self. 
 
 ( 2 ) the self of The ejection of subjective selves, with their attendant feel- 
 
 cy; ings, emotions, and ideas, into the activities of others enables 
 a sharp discrimination and definition of one's own self. Thus 
 the sense of subjectivity, so fundamental to self -consciousness, 
 is born and developed. But in connection with this subjec- 
 tive notion of the self, there develops another factor of funda- 
 mental importance. It is the sense of the power of the self to 
 do and to think. The child recognizes that in imitating others 
 it is doing those remarkable things for which they are especially 
 interesting. What others have done for it, it comes to do for 
 itself. It becomes aware of itself as a center of power hitherto 
 regarded as foreign, if not mysterious. To the subjective self 
 of feeling is added the self of agency. 
 
 (3) the value The independence of the assistance of others that the child 
 
 r g ams by imitating their acts when they do desirable things 
 develops still further when the child comes to imitate difficult 
 acts. Here simple imitation is replaced by persistent imita- 
 tion. Under the pressure of a conviction that imitation is 
 always possible and always an open sesame to desirable results, 
 the child puts forth effort, and thus learns what is commonly 
 called the force of his will. If he deliberately persists in the
 
 Imitation 337 
 
 face of discouragement, he may often gain results otherwise 
 impossible. Thus the sense of agency expands from a feeling 
 of power to do what others do to a sense of independence, and 
 from thence to an awareness of the value of effort, of force of 
 will. 
 
 The imitations of the child reveal to him not only how (4) the 
 others feel, but also many results of their action which were 
 not evident to mere observation. Many apparently capri- 
 cious acts are seen to have a motive. Moreover, the point of 
 view of the actor is in any case a more favorable one from 
 which to apprehend the purpose of the act than is that of the 
 observer. Thus the child penetrates through imitation not 
 only into the inner feelings, the heart of his companions, but 
 also into their motives. Human activity becomes suffused 
 with intensity and significance, with emotion and purpose. 
 Behind those bodies there are discovered minds, the contents 
 of which soon become more mysteriously fascinating because 
 they constitute a newly discovered country, with wealth the 
 extent of which can only be vaguely imagined. 
 
 The discovery of new motives and attitudes to eject into the (s) the atti- 
 minds of others is particularly favored by imitating such con- standards 
 duct as centers about the treatment of companions. In re- of society 
 producing what others do when they command, teach, cajole, 
 manipulate, trick, criticise, and ridicule others, or when they 
 are obedient or loyal or admiring or helpful or sympathetic, the 
 child becomes aware of a group of motives and judgments 
 that others are directing toward himself. He learns the pres- 
 ence of what Professor James calls the "social me." In taking The "social 
 certain attitudes toward others he learns how large a part such 
 mental states have in determining his welfare. He becomes 
 aware of social pressure in a new and profounder sense, the 
 force of that mass of opinion and feeling that constitutes his 
 standing. He learns that a most important part of what he
 
 333 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Knowledge of 
 the minds 
 of others 
 reveals 
 (i) the self 
 of memory ; 
 
 is depends upon others and he begins to look to others to as- 
 certain more clearly what he can expect and do. 
 
 Out of this tendency to look back upon himself from the 
 standpoint of others the consciousness of the self of memory 
 and the self of character are born to supplement the mere sense 
 of subjectivity and of power. The experiences that are ac- 
 cepted as true memories are at first largely such as meet accep- 
 tance. The true, as distinguished from the imagined past, 
 must stand the test of social criticism Out of the judgments 
 of others the child is led to construct the history of his life, his 
 self of memory. But he does not continue to await the ver- 
 dict of society before pronouncing on the validity of a mem- 
 ory. Indeed, he discovers himself to be part of that judging 
 society. Moreover, he finds internal as well as external tests 
 of truth. The peculiar familiarity that belongs to memories 
 and the coherence with the general current of his past are 
 criteria which may overbear the opinions of others. Our 
 companions would make us admit that we have done things 
 that we feel sure we have not done. We learn that the inner 
 world of experience is after all a private history, that only we 
 ourselves can hope to read aright. 
 
 Especially are we convinced of this as we come more and 
 more to realize our characters. The consciousness of one's 
 character is at first a summation of the opinions of others. But 
 we come to know that they may err in these judgments. They 
 would make us feel as we do not feel, or have ideas, motives, 
 powers that we know we do not possess. Introspection, pro- 
 voked and guided by the awareness of objective attitudes 
 toward the self, soon learns their inadequacy, their error, their 
 injustice. Thus the sense of the private self, with its inner 
 history, with its memories and its feelings, with its past and 
 its ambitions, unsearchable by all save their possessor, comes 
 to consciousness as representing the true character, the true self.
 
 Imitation 339 
 
 The growth of the consciousness of personality, whether in (3) the 
 self or others, means that community consciousness becomes world"* 
 objectified in a mysterious world of spirits that lies behind or 
 beyond the objects of sense. These persons are seen to be 
 fundamentally related to nearly all the practical emergencies 
 of life. Their inner life becomes so absorbingly interesting as 
 to reduce the physical world to a mere symbolism of the mind 
 that lies behind. It becomes the mechanism for the expres- 
 sion, the spreading abroad, of certain phases of the inner 
 life. 
 
 Thus through imitation there is developed a community imitation 
 consciousness, which is again differentiated into the inner life 
 of personalities. Imitation controls the process of expansion 
 in the mind of each individual, so that it proceeds along 
 common lines and develops common concepts. This process of 
 growth is governed by certain criteria, certain principles of 
 selection or judgment. We may call these the social norms, 
 and their discovery constitutes a third contribution of the imi- 
 tative process to mental development. The simplest of these 
 norms is that of the socially acceptable. By imitation the 
 child comes to exert, as well as to feel, social pressure, and so 
 to ascertain in his own person the motives, the principles, that 
 lie behind it. If the child is not only to obey, but also to com- 
 mand, not only to be condemned or approved, but also to judge 
 and punish or reward, he must get behind the merely socially 
 acceptable to the conditions that determine social practice. 
 Thus he arrives at notions of the customary, the authoritative, 
 the appropriate, the right. He differentiates the interests of 
 self from those of others, and discovers those universal social 
 standards that are above both. 
 
 In his early conduct the standards of the child are uncriti- 
 cally taken in. But as experience accumulates, there comes 
 the strife of motives, the conflict of inconsistent criteria de-
 
 340 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The strife 
 of motives 
 and the 
 rise of in- 
 depen- 
 dence 
 
 The stand- 
 ards re- 
 ferred to 
 an inner 
 origin 
 
 rived from different sources or even from the same source at 
 different times. The child faces new situations in which these 
 older principles find verification or confutation. He delib- 
 erates, and in the logical processes that which has been earlier 
 passively absorbed is subjected to an inner selection. Thus 
 eventually he reaches the notion of right, which, as distin- 
 guished from either the customary or the authoritative, seems 
 to be the product of an inner self, a reason or conscience. 
 Here we have that interplay of experience and reason, of the 
 empirical and rational tests of truth, which was earlier re- 
 ferred to in connection with the evolution of judgment. 
 
 As we shall again take up these norms in connection with the 
 social mechanism of imitation, we may here dismiss them with 
 the remark that, even before they are subjected to rational 
 criticism, they acquire a peculiar sense of having originated 
 from within, because of the manner in which the imitative ac- 
 tivity through which they are learned impresses the feelings. 
 Coming through the active process, they seem like a revela- 
 tion of immediate experience. And, indeed, this view is not 
 false to the ultimate facts. For while social intercourse and 
 imitation may be the medium through which we come to 
 realize the feelings, ideas, and standards of others, it is evi- 
 dent that we must have the inherent power to feel and think 
 and evaluate after the fashion of the models that we copy, or 
 imitation would leave the inner life eventless. This is but a 
 reiteration of the principle so frequently emphasized, that the 
 conditions of life do not create the functions of the living, but 
 rather select those that are suitable by eliminating the others. 
 Imitation is a function that brings us into contact with the con- 
 ditions of social life. It is primarily a selective activity, the 
 special service of which is to encourage in the imitator the 
 retention and cultivation of such thoughts and feelings as are 
 peculiar to the mass of his fellows. It inducts us into the inner
 
 Imitation 341 
 
 life of other personality, by helping us to distinguish the ex- 
 periences that are representative of such life. 
 
 We may sum up by saying that imitative activity is activity Summary 
 directed along lines most likely to prove an aid to effective 
 mental development. It puts us in a position where dis- 
 crimination is necessary, and what we thus distinguish is pe- 
 culiarly important in reference to the practical emergencies of 
 life. It affords a great opportunity for adaptive reasoning. 
 It helps us to conceive purposes, by revealing the value of 
 imitation, thus giving rise to the purpose to imitate. It teaches 
 us the value of effort. It affords among the imitating individu- 
 als an interplay of feelings and emotions, ideas and motives that 
 constitutes a social mind far more flexible and at the same time 
 far more comprehensive and deliberative than the unaided 
 mind of a single person. Through the feelings that it pro- 
 duces and the ideas that they suggest, it leads us to distin- 
 guish the social elements, the self and other selves, with their 
 private subjective life of feeling, motive, ideals, character. 
 From these insights we gradually build up a consciousness of 
 the social norms, the customary, the authoritative, the ap- 
 propriate, the right. All these criteria are transmuted by the 
 experience of imitation, and especially by the aid of logical 
 reorganization on the part of each individual, into standards 
 of the inner subjective self. 
 
 SECTION 38. Social mechanism of imitation 
 
 In the last section we approached the subject of imitation 
 from the point of view of the individual, of the subjective 
 life. There remains to consider it from the standpoint of 
 objective, social activity. The 'social mechanism of imita- 
 tion is the essence of social heredity, and so the basic form of 
 education.
 
 342 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Society as an 
 interplay 
 of imita- 
 tions 
 
 Imitation 
 spreads in 
 geometri- 
 cal pro- 
 gression 
 
 Opposition 
 and adap- 
 tation 
 
 The epoch-making writer on this subject is M. Tarde. 1 To 
 him, society in the last analysis consists essentially of the inter- 
 play of imitations. Uniformity, law, reduces itself in the 
 physical world to the repetitions of vibration, in the biological 
 realm to those of heredity, and in the world of psychology to 
 those of imitation. Forms of activity appearing in the begin- 
 nings of human history have been by countless generations imi- 
 tatively reproduced, until they have come to play a part in the 
 conduct of the civilized man of to-day. Models for imitation 
 spread in all directions, like the waves from a point of dis- 
 turbance in the water. Not only do they extend in space, but 
 also in time, for what one does he himself imitates later, 
 and ultimately incites another generation to reproduce. Self- 
 imitation shows itself physically in habit, mentally in memory. 
 In short, psychological continuity rests primarily upon the 
 imitative process. 
 
 Such, at a glance, is the conception of Tarde, and we must 
 admit that it is striking, and that it affords at least an impor- 
 tant aspect of truth. The fundamental phases of the activity 
 of imitation Tarde analyzes as follows: First of all, each imi- 
 tator becomes himself a center for the spread of the model. 
 What one does a number imitate, and each of these, we may 
 assume, will on the average be imitated by an equal number. 
 Thus the model is spread abroad in geometrical progression. 
 The inevitable consequence is that various models should come 
 in conflict with each other. Any individual will find himself 
 a member of different imitating groups, as it were. He will 
 apprehend successively different activities, and the tendency 
 to imitate the new will come in conflict with that to reproduce 
 the old. Thus we have what Tarde calls opposition. But 
 opposition does not mean the mere paralysis of the activities 
 that come in conflict. Rather do they struggle, with the result 
 1 Les Lois de Vlmitalion.
 
 Imitation 343 
 
 that either the one or the other is victorious, or a compromise 
 is effected. In any case, it may be said that the resolution of 
 any such opposition tends to be in the direction of adaptation. 
 Thus imitation becomes the parent, as it were, not only of 
 continuity, but also of variation, and an agency fundamentally 
 conservative proves a most fertile source of originality. 
 
 It is evident that the situation here described by Tarde corre- The conflict 
 sponds to that in which ideational readjustment evolves. The s Tstrug- 
 factors which we have traced in that process we may again s le to ^e 
 
 ... 11. -the atten- 
 
 note in their objective aspect as we study the interplay of tion. 
 models for imitation. To begin with, there are two typical Se " lement 
 
 J r by ascen- 
 
 results of a struggle of models. First, there may be a waver- dancy or 
 ing of attention to and fro among the patterns suggested by 
 memory, with an ultimate ascendancy of one, and a sinking of 
 the others into a more or less permanent oblivion. Second, 
 these patterns may combine into new schemes of action, 
 having some of the elements of each. It is likely that as a 
 rule any conflict results in an activity that may be said to be 
 predominantly the reproduction of one model, but not without 
 influence from others. Ideation concludes in the victory of a cer- 
 tain plan, but the others are not quite banished. Instead, they 
 remain to affect, wherever this is easy, the details of its execution. 
 
 In its earliest phase, the struggle of models is determined Unconscious 
 by forces of which the imitator is not clearly conscious. On 
 
 the subjective side we note three such influences: instinct, tention: 
 habit, and the intensity of the impressions. One's nature may jective 
 make it especially easy for him to imitate certain models. It influences, 
 
 1 J J t instinct, 
 
 is likely that the Indian finds it inherently more easy to copy habit, and 
 his wild life than the ways of civilization. However this may 
 be, it seems clear that children in the same environment in- 
 stinctively prefer different models. So far as observation has 
 gone, it is almost impossible to disentangle the preferences 
 due to instinct from those dependent on habit. Undoubtedly,
 
 344 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (2) objective 
 
 prestige. 
 
 intensity 
 of impres- 
 
 sion and by 
 
 prestige in- 
 
 intelligence 
 
 as a rule, they combine. Children are led by early and con- 
 stant association to form the habits of family and race. These 
 are the activities to which one may suppose their hereditary 
 nature predisposes them. 
 
 As against the forces of heredity and habit, a keen mental 
 sensitivity operates to secure attention to variant models. 
 The more alert the mind, the more intense a novel stimulus 
 may become. Hence, as intelligence evolves, the possibility 
 of breaking the grip of heredity and habit by new and striking 
 models increases. 
 
 Corresponding to these subjective influences, we have the 
 OD J ec tive ones of custom and prestige. Custom reenforces 
 by iteration the tendency of a model to seize attention and to 
 become a habit. Variant models are submerged by the one 
 prevailing type. On the other hand, prestige may lend these 
 
 . 
 
 unusual patterns a force that enables them effectively to hold 
 the attention - It is evident that with the growth of power of 
 consciousness, the novel and the striking will become more 
 clearly differ ntiated from the customary, and it will become 
 increasingly possible for the individual to feel the influence of 
 prestige. Preferential imitation is a function of developing 
 intelligence. At first, however, prestige is not the result of 
 the possession on the part of the model of attributes which are 
 clearly recognized as good reasons for preferential imitation. 
 It depends upon force of manner or such practical success in 
 the contests of social life as compels attention. The conqueror 
 must be observed, and a striking personality is part of his equip- 
 ment. One imitates unreflectively the person with prestige, 
 yet there is, doubtless, a general gain from such activity. If 
 prestige goes with success, it makes likely the imitation of that 
 which produced the success. If it is an attribute of leadership, 
 it makes for that cooperation with the leader by which society 
 is made strong.
 
 Imitation 345 
 
 The control of attention and of imitation by prestige is the Conflict 
 immediate forerunner of reflective, critical imitation. As 
 we have seen, it is dependent upon considerable intelligence, withpres- 
 and it also opens an opportunity for such variation as is apt to R^ of j u d g - 
 force upon the alert mind the value or lack of value of imitation. ment 
 As prestige wars with custom, so it wars with itself. Many com- 
 pete for recognition, for leadership ; and while the struggle is 
 at first not settled by an appeal to critical judgment as to the 
 relative excellence of rival aspirants, nevertheless, such com- 
 parisons are instituted, and with the progress of time they 
 become more constant and thoroughgoing. The judgment is 
 likely first to attack the problem of the general effectiveness 
 of an individual. When this is once established, prestige follows, 
 and it extends to all the acts of the person who possesses 
 it. At this stage there is no tendency to question each of these 
 acts on its own merit as a desirable model for imitation. 
 
 The appearance of consciousness as to the value of imitation Rise of con- 
 and critical judgment in reference to the models that are fol- approved 
 lowed means the formulation as standards of judgment of the prestige or 
 various factors that have proved effective in the control of 
 unreflective imitation. Thus custom becomes a recognized 
 justification for certain models, while the natural or supposed 
 supernatural abilities of certain individuals are held to give them 
 supreme reliability as patterns for action or thought. The 
 idea of the authoritative appears. The authoritative, whether 
 it be custom or the practice of an authoritative individual, 
 gains, because it is consciously recognized as a standard, addi- 
 tional prestige, or compelling force. 
 
 The reflective determination of the authoritative means the Support of 
 appearance in society of a conscious endeavor to sustain and 
 to enforce its control. The authoritative is sanctioned; tions 
 that is, a penalty is inflicted upon those who do not conform. 
 This sanction is the natural method by which society compels
 
 346 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Natural not 
 distin- 
 guished 
 from arti- 
 ficial sanc- 
 tions 
 
 Social, re- 
 ligious, 
 and legal 
 sanctions 
 
 Instinctive 
 basis of 
 the social 
 sanction 
 
 the individual to obey customs that are in the interest of the 
 established order. But it is not limited to this use. It is 
 applied indiscriminately to practices that are not of any critical 
 importance to society. The sanction of the laws of nature, 
 which bring to grief all who violate them, are not distinguished 
 from the sanctions wielded by man to render his commands 
 authoritative. Indeed, since nature is at first regarded as 
 under the control of supernatural wills, there is no recognition 
 of an essential distinction between the authority of natural 
 and that of human law. It is not seen that one is inevitable, 
 and the other capable of being changed as man sees fit. 
 
 The sanctions that society employs to strengthen or create 
 authority may be roughly divided into social, religious, and 
 legal. The social sanction consists of the neglect, the ridicule, 
 the abuse, the ostracism, the indiscriminate injury to person 
 and property that society tends to inflict on those who depart 
 from its ways. The religious sanction consists in that disfavor 
 which the supernatural powers are supposed to visit upon those 
 who fail to conform to their customs. When society through an 
 established machinery of justice punishes those who violate 
 enacted law, we have the legal sanction. 
 
 Of all these the social sanction is, on the whole, least a result 
 of deliberation, and the legal sanction most so. Indeed, there 
 is probably among men a sort of instinct for conformity to cus- 
 tom, which displays itself negatively in the scorn and hatred 
 of the innovator. Such an instinct would be closely allied to 
 the aesthetic sense, which early appears in a fondness for the 
 conventional. Thus aesthetic pleasure is largely the ease and 
 sense of harmony that one feels in observing the familiar order 
 of things. The instinct for the conventional is, of course, 
 a powerful agency to reenforce the natural effect upon atten- 
 tion and imitation of the constant repetitions of custom. It 
 manifests itself in the social sanctions, and in that form becomes
 
 Imitation 
 
 347 
 
 an object of conscious fear on the part of any who are tempted 
 to fall away from prevailing practice. 
 
 The religious sanction, like the social one, operates to produce 
 conformity and social solidarity. We have earlier l discussed 
 the value of religious belief as an agency for social control. 
 The religious sanctions evolve naturally, and unreflectively 
 they become attached to such conduct as makes for social 
 efficiency. In the struggle for existence the group with whom 
 religion is a most effective agent for cooperation will, as a rule, 
 survive. Men realize the greater prosperity that goes with 
 certain types of religion, and naturally attribute it to the 
 special favor of the gods toward such as conform to their will, 
 rather than to the increased efficiency that springs from this 
 obedience. 
 
 The legal sanction is superior to the social and religious sanc- 
 tions in possessing the advantage of statement in the form of 
 positive law, together with that of established machinery for 
 its enforcement. Indeed, the addition of these two factors con- 
 verts social and religious sanctions into legal ones. Custom 
 and religion tend to evolve into legalism. The explicitness 
 of positive law and of the method of its enforcement brings 
 directly before intelligence the nature and purpose of its sanc- 
 tions, and the fact that they can be wielded by the human will 
 in the interest of any social practice. The authoritativeness 
 of custom and of religious practice are not felt to be a result 
 of human intention, but rather of some law superior to human 
 judgment. In them mankind simply adds his sanction to the 
 inevitable. But when legal sanctions appear, authority is 
 traced to its source in human will, and judgment is evoked 
 in order that the power that resides in control of the sanctions 
 may be used most advantageously, either for the social group 
 in general, or at any rate for its leaders. Thus legalism means 
 
 1 Compare 14. 
 
 Natural 
 evolution 
 of the re- 
 ligious 
 sanction 
 
 The legal 
 sanction 
 more evi- 
 dent than 
 the others. 
 It becomes 
 recognized 
 as artificial
 
 348 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Rise of con- 
 scious tyr- 
 anny 
 through 
 the con- 
 trol of 
 sanctions 
 
 The struggle 
 for the con- 
 trol of 
 sanctions. 
 Appeal to 
 reason 
 
 the evolution of authoritativeness into the stage of clearly 
 conscious control. 
 
 This intelligent comprehension of the meaning of authority 
 involves two new attitudes. In the first place, men come to 
 recognize clearly the difference between the inevitable laws of 
 Nature or of God, which they need to know but cannot con- 
 trol, and those customs and laws that are subject to human 
 will, and can, therefore, be manipulated. In the second place, 
 they recognize the remarkable value of control over the sanc- 
 tions as an agency for exploitation. The evolution of leader- 
 ship and of privileged classes is in no small measure facilitated 
 by the growth of sanctions, and since such individuals or 
 groups possess as a rule superior intelligence, they quickly 
 learn the source of their power and come to exercise it in the 
 interest of self or of class. Thus intellectual growth favors 
 cunning, and the rule of priest or aristocrat evolves into tyr- 
 anny. 
 
 This sort of a condition contains within itself, however, the 
 seeds of its own destruction. For it means such a struggle for 
 control, such variety of motive among those who control, 
 and such a critical discussion of the justification of law, as 
 inevitably leads to a general knowledge on the part of all classes, 
 the exploited as well as those who exploit, of the significance 
 of the edicts of human authority. Warring individuals or 
 classes struggle for dominance in the state, and with their 
 varying claims and laws force upon the attention the fact that 
 law depends upon human will, and that it may be wielded in 
 the interest not of society, but rather of the men who make it. 
 Moreover, many leaders aim to justify their rule by showing 
 that their laws conform to the higher laws of Nature and of 
 God, or, what is taken to mean the same thing, the welfare 
 of their people. Thus, in endeavoring to show that with them 
 the two types of law conform, they emphasize the distinction
 
 Imitation 
 
 349 
 
 between them. Many leaders earnestly desire to rule that they 
 may make positive law in the interest of general welfare, or 
 what they regard as the will of God. The attack upon the 
 tyrant often comes from members of his own class, or even 
 from those who are favored by tyranny. Thus the struggle 
 of contending forces for the coveted control of the sanctions 
 leads to a mass of conflicting views. Human reason flounders 
 among the reasons that are offered to support existing or pro- 
 posed laws, or the rule of this or that man or group of men. 
 Each individual sees the social situation partly from the point 
 of view of his antecedents and his culture, partly from that of 
 his special interests, and partly from that of a fairly general 
 survey of all the conflicting arguments for and against the 
 established order. The priest or the lawgiver, even though 
 he may be dealing with religious faith or legal enactment 
 according to what he thinks is the righteousness of God or the 
 principles of absolute justice, is apt to overemphasize his spe- 
 cialty. The one offers to man a form of worship that arrogates 
 to itself supremacy over all other interests, the other turns law 
 into a mechanism, not so much for improving the welfare of 
 society as for enhancing the majesty of law itself. Thus each 
 in all sincerity worshiping his God or his law takes an attitude 
 that a critic may regard as an hypocritical mask to cloak the 
 service of self. Meanwhile the governed and exploited multi- 
 tude, by nature and training submissive, partly accept the 
 offered justification of their government and partly yield 
 obedience to what they regard as an inevitable exploitation. 
 
 The goal of all this interplay of opinion is the authority of Replace- 
 truth. The truly proper is contrasted with the customary, ^ n 
 and men seek that which taste must universally approve, tomary 
 The truly sacred is contrasted with the traditional religious 
 worship, or with that of this or that cult. The conception 
 of absolute principles of justice behind any established code
 
 350 Principles of Education 
 
 appears to inspire the reformer. Thus the sanctions of man's 
 will are shifted about and fitted to that which his judgment 
 declares to have the authority of reason and experience. One 
 may wonder what need there is of human sanctions, if they 
 are made to enforce that which itself yields to man his highest 
 welfare. However, there remains the need of cooperation and 
 of universal adherence to that which makes for the common 
 ends. Since society contains those who lack intelligence, it 
 must needs constrain them by man-made sanctions to do the 
 wise. Since it contains those who lack conscience, it is com- 
 pelled to coerce them into conduct that benefits rather than 
 injures their fellows. 
 
 Summary I n resume, the social mechanism of imitation resolves itself 
 
 into the spread of models in geometrical progression, their 
 interference and opposition, and, finally, adaptation, or the 
 resolution of struggle. Thus the individual, in being the center 
 of an unique group of lines of imitation, becomes a variant in 
 education, just as he is a variant in heredity because of diverse 
 strains of ancestry. A struggle of models may be concluded 
 by the victory of one, or by compromise. The process is one 
 that conforms to the conditions of ideational readjustment. 
 The principles of selection are at first unconsciously operative. 
 They take, from the subjective point of view, the form of hered- 
 itary preference, habit, and sensitivity to the new and unusual. 
 The latter factor may, when it is keen, overbear the two former 
 ones in control over attention and imitation. Objectively, 
 the selective forces in imitation are custom and prestige. The 
 appreciation of prestige involves keen sensitivity and alertness 
 and considerable intelligence. Through them prestige can 
 overwhelm custom. Since prestige involves intelligence, its 
 causes are apt to be noted. Their recognition converts pres- 
 tige into authority, and enhances its potency. Moreover, 
 the consciousness of authority leads men to sanction it, or to
 
 Imitation 351 
 
 punish those who depart from it. The sanctions are social, 
 religious, and legal. The social sanctions are least reflective, 
 being largely a matter of mere instinct to attack the uncon- 
 ventional. The legal sanctions are most reflective, and lead 
 to a recognition of the power men have of creating the author- 
 itative by applying the sanctions. The utilization of this 
 power for exploitation or social betterment leads to conflict 
 and a gradual struggle of society toward law which shall con- 
 form to the truth and make for general human welfare. Thus 
 the final authority is seen to rest in reason working with the 
 evidence of practice as to the methods of dealing with nature 
 and organizing society that are most effective for attaining 
 the ends of human life. 
 
 SECTION 39. Imitation in the history of education 
 
 The evolution of the selective forces that determine the con- Growth of 
 flicts of imitation proceeds from heredity and habit to intensity P r g r es- 
 
 . siveness i 
 
 of the stimulus, from custom to prestige and authority, and theseiec- 
 from the social, religious, and legal sanctions to those of natural models 
 law and common welfare as evident to scientific judgment. The 
 entire movement means advance from conservatism to progres- 
 siveness and rationality. The study of this movement in the 
 actual history of education reveals several factors that help in 
 the interpretation of the process of imitation in the typical 
 education of to-day. 
 
 The development of adaptability is everywhere throughout Authority as 
 evolution beset by such conservative checks as are necessary the h disin 
 to safeguard the species or the society. The rise of intelli- tegmting 
 gence threatens society with individualism, but the sanctions ^-o^ingin 
 of authority, the tyranny of institutional life, prevent anarchy teliigence 
 by suppressing originality and variation until the race has accu- 
 mulated adequate experience and acquired a critical sense,
 
 352 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Conserva- 
 tism of 
 early 
 education 
 
 Resulting 
 social selec- 
 tion of the 
 docile and 
 those fond 
 of form 
 
 Early edu- 
 cation 
 as largely 
 social 
 training 
 
 such as enables genuine self-government. Early education is 
 of necessity intensely conservative, because any other type 
 would weaken social solidarity, and hence threaten social 
 efficiency. 
 
 This conservatism involves a social selection of men on the 
 basis of docility, on the one hand, and fondness for form, on 
 the other. Docility means imitativeness and submissiveness. 
 It means the capacity to learn from others, which in turn in- 
 volves such intellectual power as makes possible the compre- 
 hension of what they do and think, and the physical and mental 
 aptitude to repeat their performances. It also means receptiv- 
 ity, or the willingness to place one's self in an attitude of in- 
 terested attention to others, and that yielding disposition which 
 interposes few obstacles in the way of the imitative tendency 
 set in motion by such attention. The struggle to conquer, 
 that prevails in pre-civilized conditions, is replaced more and 
 more by a struggle to conform, for society offers its rewards 
 to those who excel in the latter contest. 
 
 Fondness for form means a love of imitation, custom, con- 
 vention for its own sake, or for the sake of its aesthetic appeal. 
 As has been suggested, it is even possible that the aesthetic 
 sense is in part, at least, a product of the fondness for form 
 that early civilization finds so advantageous. 1 However this 
 may be, it is certain that society is made more conserva- 
 tive and secure by the existence of a devotion not merely to 
 the spirit, but also to the letter of the law and the precedent. 
 
 In addition to its conservatism, the conscious public edu- 
 cation of early civilization is also, as a rule, confined largely to 
 social training. This subject was treated in an earlier section. 2 
 Here we may reiterate the principle that society finds the train- 
 ing that makes for social solidarity and social efficiency so 
 valuable both for the community and the individual that all 
 
 1 Compare 38. 2 Compare 14.
 
 Imitation 
 
 353 
 
 forces 
 making for 
 progress : 
 (i) imita- 
 tiveness ; 
 
 energy is bent toward making it effective. Hence, early edu- 
 cation begins with a curriculum of social customs, ethics, and 
 religion, which expands into literature and art, theology and 
 philosophy, and finally into science for its own sake rather than 
 for its practical uses. 
 
 The forces that lead away from mere conservatism and internal 
 devotion to social convention may be classified into two groups: 
 the internal and the external. Within any society, no matter 
 how conservative it may be, there are agencies making for 
 an ultimate break with tradition and custom. First of all, 
 the very quality of docility that helps so effectively the 
 growth of uniformity and conservatism, when the conditions 
 are such that all variant standards are suppressed, becomes 
 under different circumstances a basis for swift change and, 
 indeed, revolution. Receptivity, imitativeness, renders one 
 not only susceptible to customary influences, but also to any 
 new suggestions that may appear. Thus originality is itself, 
 as we have seen, often a product of the imitation that takes 
 in and reproduces a number of ideas or forms of action, and 
 from these develops new plans and methods. In placing a 
 selection value upon docility that it may protect itself against 
 revolution, society is only preparing the way for more rapid 
 modification, when once the force of those sanctions that make 
 for uniformity grows less. When models are many and various, 
 an imitating society is a progressive one. The achievements 
 of the Japanese are a remarkable illustration of this fact. 
 
 Again, no society is able to preserve itself in exactly that posi- (*) the 
 tion for which the customs fostered by conservatism are suited, growth 
 Conservatism, like heredity and habit, prevents an adaptation 
 from being hastily modified or eliminated. But the habits or 
 adaptations of society, like those of the individual, are illus- 
 trations of that principle of the inertia of growth which has 
 been earlier discussed. The progress of specialized growth 
 
 2A
 
 354 Principles of Education 
 
 that creates the custom does not cease when it is formed. 
 The forces that give rise to aristocracies turn them into oligar- 
 chies. Religion ceases to content itself with that strength 
 which enables it to preserve order and to develop humanity. 
 It endeavors to terrorize in the interest of a spiritual life at 
 variance with human conditions. Law grows into a strength 
 that enables it to maintain justice, and from thence into 
 further strength that involves tyranny. Thus internal forces 
 that produce adaptation continue to operate after adjust- 
 ment is gained and ultimately result in lack of adaptation. 
 Society outgrows its institutions, and the very endeavor to 
 maintain them only renders the ultimate disparity between the 
 function and the mechanisms, the need and the method of 
 meeting it, more apparent. In such an unstable condition, 
 slight influences often suffice to render men conscious of the 
 maladjustment, and to rouse an active demand for revolution. 
 External Thus it is that internal forces operative in conservative 
 
 uTuaTiy the civilizations pave the way for change by creating character- 
 occasion istics and conditions that make such transformation all the 
 vance more rapid and eager when once alien ideas and customs 
 find an entrance. It is these external agencies, however, 
 that historically have afforded the occasion for revolution 
 and progress. Early civilization seeks seclusion. It hides 
 itself behind deserts, and mountains, and bodies of water, and, 
 when these fail, it may try to construct artificial barriers, 
 like the Chinese wall. In such security the sanctions of 
 authority get an opportunity to produce an extraordinary 
 amount of homogeneity. When, however, the course of his- 
 tory brings foreigners across the seas or over the mountains 
 and waste places, when the barriers are broken down, then 
 these sanctions are valueless unless the system they maintain 
 proves effective in expelling the invader. 
 
 But even wandering nations do not at first come into suffi-
 
 Imitation 
 
 355 
 
 ciently close contact with those whom they meet to render 
 imitation on a large scale operative. It is not mere physical 
 proximity, but rather the form of social intercourse which 
 prevails that determines the extent to which peoples absorb 
 ideas and customs from each other. Among the most im- 
 portant of these types of social intercourse are (i) war, con- 
 quest, and government ; (2) commerce and colonization ; 
 (3) travel ; and (4) study of foreign culture. 
 
 The wars of early mankind are usually wars of extermina- 
 tion. Yet, in spite of this, they bring about a keen attention 
 to such devices as are employed by adversaries in combat. 
 As Tarde points out, such methods and instrumentalities of 
 war as are effective are speedily copied whenever this is pos- 
 sible. War converts indifferent observation into an attentive 
 interest in at least one important aspect of the life and behavior 
 of foreign peoples. Such interest and attention is broadened 
 when wars of extermination are replaced by wars of conquest. 
 To enslave a people, or to make them pay tribute, requires 
 far more knowledge of their customs and characteristics than 
 simply to annihilate them. Again, when these forms of 
 exploitation are replaced by more enlightened government 
 under a power that endeavors to establish an universal peace 
 like the Pax Romana, and to insure the good will of its prov- 
 inces by granting them a share in the government, indeed, by 
 making their people citizens, recruiting armies from them, 
 opening to them offices, and granting them self-government, 
 when these measures appear, then the nations involved are 
 brought into intimate intercourse and exchange points of view 
 and the practices of peace as well as those of war. 
 
 In a general way, commerce and the colonization by which 
 it is extended and fostered constitute a step in advance of 
 war and conquest so far as educational influence is concerned. 
 For here there is a study of supply and demand, and the tastes 
 
 Types of ex- 
 ternal con- 
 tact illus- 
 trating 
 the growth 
 of interest 
 in the 
 foreign 
 
 (i) War, 
 conquest, 
 and gov- 
 ernment; 
 
 (2) com- 
 merce and 
 coloniza- 
 tion;
 
 356 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (4) study of 
 foreign 
 culture 
 by the 
 school 
 
 and resources upon which they are based. The advantages 
 that spring from trade lead to a more extensive exploration 
 of the world, and a more intensive study of the desires and 
 capacities of different races of men than do those of conquest. 
 In general, the development of trade is the most important 
 stimulus to world conquest and government. 
 
 If we exclude from travel the search for the necessities of 
 life, or for people to conquer or plunder, or with whom to 
 trade, it is unknown to primitive men, and even to races well 
 advanced in civilization. It means an enormous advance 
 in attentive survey of the inner and outer life of foreign peoples. 
 For the genuine traveler studies others not merely to barter 
 with them, but because their differences are in themselves 
 found curious and interesting. From Herodotus, unique in 
 his generation, to the spirit of pilgrimage that survived 
 the Crusades means a long step in the growth of interest in 
 strange people and places. And an equally extensive advance 
 is involved in attaining to the love of "globe-trotting" current 
 in the modern world. 
 
 Finally, men come to realize that foreign people are interest- 
 ing, not merely because their ways are strange and curious, 
 but because these may be better than those in vogue at home. 
 The earliest important example of a conscious recognition 
 of such superiority, and a deliberate adoption of another 
 culture, is to be found in the Roman imitation of the Greeks. 
 "Captive Greece took captive her rude conqueror" because of 
 the manifest superiority of her art, her literature, and her 
 philosophy. So, too, the Renaissance was captivated by the 
 culture of antiquity and sought, not merely in another race, 
 but in a vanished civilization, the customs and ideals that it 
 would follow. Such imitation was merely that of the culti- 
 vated life of an aristocracy. The cultivated class is invariably 
 the first to rise to the cosmopolitan attitude of borrowing from
 
 Imitation 357 
 
 others whatever seems best and, indeed, of looking elsewhere 
 for the best. However, long before mankind set itself con- 
 sciously to the task of finding additions to its philosophy, or 
 science, or literature, or art, or institutional life among foreign 
 peoples, a vague sense of the resourcefulness of the stranger 
 became current. It is a common tradition that traces new 
 developments in thought or institutional life to a wise man who 
 has sojourned in a distant land, a Lycurgus or a Pythagoras. 
 The attitude back of such ideas ascribes to other nations strange 
 arts, magic, the power to achieve those desirable things that 
 have so far baffled the abilities of the race. 
 
 The spirit of this superstition is rationalized in modern life The culture 
 and education, when all study and research involves material 
 drawn from all people who are judged to have achieved stand- study of 
 ard results in the given field, and when no important enterprise 
 is undertaken without a careful survey of the most successful 
 methods, in so far as these are available for inspection. Thus 
 each new departure is a focal point for lines of imitation often 
 world-wide in origin. Such a focalization of divergent material 
 is the first step in the method of the school or the study that 
 aims to cultivate the reason. Applications of this concep- 
 tion are found in the methods of development and of discussion 
 in teaching, in the formal step of comparison, and in the 
 reference work and comparative methods used in all subjects. 
 The work of the modern school seems, from the standpoint Habit- 
 of imitation, to be divided into two factors. The one consists 
 of standardized material capable of being applied somewhat tionaiizing 
 mechanically in the prevailing environment. Such material sc hooi 
 is presented without subjecting the pupil to variant models. wor!c 
 The teaching environment becomes in reference to it the 
 uniform environment of mere recapitulatory education. The 
 other factor consists of the ideas, the principles, the habits 
 that need constant adaptation to new conditions. Such mate-
 
 358 Principles of Education 
 
 rial should be presented with the widest diversity of point of 
 view and practice, that the way may be opened for genuine 
 opposition and adaptation. 
 
 The history of education, then, reveals a transition from 
 isolated, conservative civilizations, where all models are reduced 
 as far as possible to uniformity, to civilizations that encourage 
 contact with others, and a persistent attempt to search far 
 and wide for the best models in thought and action. In the 
 conservative stage the forces of selection favor the develop- 
 ment of imitativeness and receptivity. Hence it happens 
 that when such a people has so far outgrown its institutions 
 that change becomes inevitable, or when the exigencies of war 
 force a contact with foreign races, it has evolved a character 
 that enables it to absorb quickly from others whatever may 
 there be found. The intercourse of peoples develops through 
 the stages of war, conquest, and government ; commerce and 
 colonization ; travel ; and study of foreign culture. The 
 last two have come to be definitely recognized as essentially 
 educative. The modern progressive school aims, in so far 
 as it transmits such standardized material as can be applied 
 without thought, to present only uniform models, but, in so far 
 as it aims at readjustment and power of adaptation, it strives 
 to make of itself a meeting place for widely divergent lines of 
 imitation.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 LANGUAGE 
 
 SECTION 40. Oral language and the development of thought 
 
 OF all the results of imitation, articulate language is that interdepend- 
 which is most closely identified with the genesis and the func- "^ ' f and 
 tioning of reason. So closely allied are the rational and the language 
 linguistic forms that the Greeks employed one term, logos, 
 for both word and reason, and Max Miiller places on the title 
 page of his book on the Science of Thought the expression 
 "No reason without language, no language without reason." 
 
 The inseparability of reason and language that is here as- its basis in 
 serted is based on the relation between the word and the con- ciatkmof 
 cept. We have already seen that the concept is fundamental in word and 
 reasoning, because through it alone are we able deliberately 
 to adapt old measures to new uses. 1 The concept is experience 
 in that form which is most usable in the analysis, the diagnosis 
 of novel situations. That the word is a most important aux- 
 iliary in enabling us to attain and to use the general idea 
 can scarcely be denied. The Nominalism that would assert 
 that the concept is "speech and nothing more" has passed 
 away, yet psychologists have agreed in a newer Nominalism, 
 to which Locke may be said to have led the way. According 
 to this, although it is admitted with the Conceptualist that 
 the general idea does exist in the mind in some sense, at any 
 rate, apart from the particulars in which it inheres, neverthe- 
 
 1 Compare 30. 
 359
 
 3 6 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Three ways 
 in which 
 language 
 assists 
 thinking 
 
 (i) Language 
 in its 
 higher 
 forms as 
 compelling 
 reasoning 
 
 Meanings 
 conveyed 
 by expres- 
 
 less, without the aid of words the process of abstraction would 
 be practically impossible. 
 
 If we were to endeavor to formulate the ways in which lan- 
 guage fosters the development of conscious learning, we might 
 distinguish the following : (i) language in the form of articu- 
 late speech compels constant reasoning, by forcing analysis 
 of new situations into familiar concepts in order that they may 
 be communicated ; (2) the word increases enormously the 
 power of the mind to remember, and hence to deal effectively 
 with the concept ; (3) language brings social consciousness and 
 social heredity to bear upon the mind of the individual. 
 
 (i) The need for expression is one of the most fundamental 
 in human life. But one does not go very far in communica- 
 tion before he encounters the necessity of reasoning in order 
 to make clear to others what he wishes to express. The tran- 
 sition from the expressive cries of the brute or the babe to the 
 articulate speech of the child means, from the mental point of 
 view, the passage from instinct and simple association to genu- 
 ine reasoning. Expressive cries indicate primarily only feel- 
 ings and desires. Indirectly they may communicate percep- 
 tions and ideas. If a peculiar emotion can arise only in a 
 certain sort of a situation, then the cry that expresses the 
 emotion carries the idea of the associated circumstances. 
 Such a notion must of necessity be vague until it is cleared 
 up by direct observation of these circumstances on the part 
 of the individuals who hear the cry. The expression functions 
 in arousing feelings. These in turn provoke vigorous responses 
 useful to one or both of the communicating animals or to 
 the species. The specific character of these responses is de- 
 termined largely by data revealed by further observations on 
 the part of the individual who makes the movements. 
 
 Articulate, or jointed, speech, on the contrary, appeals pri- 
 marily to cognition. It consists of words, each of which
 
 Language 361 
 
 without exception indicates a more or less generalized group Meanings 
 of elements in experience, i.e., a concept. Communication is ^"artica 
 effected by analyzing a situation into such general elements late speech 
 as can be indicated by words. These words are then spoken, 
 and the ideas that they suggest are in turn synthesized by the 
 hearer, who thus arrives at a representation of the original 
 concrete experience of the speaker. Feeling and action follow 
 the cognitive reproduction of the experience. Thus the men- 
 tal process in attending to articulate speech reverses that pro- 
 voked by the expressive cry. The latter hurries immediately to 
 the goal of communication, which is that of stirring up vigorous 
 activity. It leaves to the actor the problem of determin- 
 ing by his own observations and inferences the detailed char- 
 acter of this activity. It calls for help, but trusts to the res- 
 cuer to discover what help means and how it may best be given. 
 On the other hand, articulate speech proceeds more deliberately 
 to create a cognitive state so clear and detailed that it enables 
 the hearer without so much additional investigation to get 
 the desired feelings and initiate the appropriate responses. 
 
 It is evident that the expressive cry is limited to the commu- Genesis of 
 nication of a few simple wants. It cannot transmit these with articulate 
 
 speech in 
 
 any delicacy of distinction. For this it is compelled to rely the child 
 on secondary observations and inferences from accessory cir- 
 cumstances. The expressive cry leaves communication largely 
 dependent on the enterprise and intelligence of the hearer. It 
 is incapable of expressing the inner life with any detail. The 
 development of articulate speech means the growth of a 
 vocabulary that translates all that the expressive cry leaves 
 to gesture, to observation, and to inference into the symbol- 
 ism of words. Beginning with a few words, which are some- 
 times called "sentence words," and which seem more nearly 
 akin to interjections or verbs in the imperative than to any other 
 part of speech, the vocabulary of the child or of the race ex-
 
 362 Principles of Education 
 
 pands, because of the failure of these to express clearly new 
 situations to which they are applied. A new demand upon its 
 powers of expression the child meets by an old word that seems 
 most nearly to fit. The failure of this word to communicate 
 successfully leads to the invention of modifying words to adapt 
 it to this special case. Hence we have the rudiments of the 
 sentence. Instead of seeking a new word for each new con- 
 crete situation, the child finds a word to express that abstract 
 phase of it which is different from cases where a mastered word 
 applies. Thus the endeavor to communicate leads immedi- 
 ately to imperfect generalizations, and to correction of these 
 through a process of analysis and abstraction. In order to 
 express these new distinctions, new words appear. Ultimately, 
 the instinctive expressions and those absorbed unreflectively 
 by imitation come to be supplemented by words for which the 
 child sets himself consciously in search. 
 
 It is plain that with the development of articulate speech 
 the child comes more and more to take rational attitudes. He 
 comes to realize the need of understanding others or of being 
 himself understood by them. When he wishes to communicate 
 something new, he is aware of the necessity of reducing it 
 to factors for which he possesses symbols. These symbols 
 must be standard ones ; i.e., such as are commonly used to 
 express the factors to which he applies them. When put 
 together, they must create a synthesis of thought which others 
 will be capable of grasping. The demand for symbols and de- 
 vices of phraseology is a summons upon his resources. The 
 demand for intelligibility in wording and in sentence con- 
 struction is a stimulus to judgment. The language situation is 
 a continual challenge upon both these powers, and it is under 
 its influence that purposive thinking is, for the most part, 
 brought into existence and developed to a high degree of 
 excellence.
 
 Language 363 
 
 As the child's power of expression increases, his sense of Growth of 
 that which can be accomplished through it becomes more 2!2^ 
 
 r interest in 
 
 pervading. The natural tendency is strengthened into an communi- 
 absorbing habit, behind which there lies not only the social 
 instincts, the desire for sympathy and for approbation, the 
 love of social intercourse and of social service, but also the 
 clear awareness of the enormous value of social agencies as a 
 means of furthering almost any individual purpose. Lan- 
 guage rapidly develops into one of the leading, if not, indeed, 
 the leading activity of life. Power of getting on in a social 
 environment is very closely dependent upon power of expres- 
 sion through which one influences others, through which one 
 gets into contact with society and makes it work his will. 
 
 So strong is this interest in language that men come to talk for 
 the sake of talking. Articulate speech, not limited to the ex- 
 pression of a few vital situations where the need for action is 
 immediate and imperative, becomes more and more concerned 
 with the communication of ideas to be used in future delibera- 
 tion, or to enhance the interest of life in a highly social com- 
 munity. The worlds of imagination, of reflection, of make- 
 believe find new interest because supported by the social in- 
 terplay that language makes possible. Men notice more the 
 descriptive characteristics of things. A very large part of the 
 qualities that we observe in our surroundings have very little 
 if any significance except that through noting them descrip- 
 tion can be made more effective. Through language we are 
 elevated into that social, psychical world, into that world of 
 mind behind the phenomena of sense, which straightway be- 
 comes the vitally interesting, the genuinely real world, a world 
 upon which all the activities are more and more brought to 
 bear. 
 
 (2) The use of language is not only the occasion for reason- 
 ing, but it also does much to sustain that process by enabling
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (2) Language 
 as an aid 
 to memory, 
 (a) in 
 grasping 
 and retain- 
 ing sensory 
 distinc- 
 tions ; 
 
 (b) in form- 
 ing and 
 retaining 
 concepts 
 
 us to seize by the attention and to hold in memory the con- 
 cepts which it employs. In the mere matter of discriminat- 
 ing qualities of sense the name is a valuable help. Professor 
 Judd * mentions an interesting experiment, testing the power 
 to discriminate different shades of gray. Ordinarily, only 
 about five such shades can be distinguished with certainty. 
 If, however, one attaches a name or a number to intervening 
 shades, it is found that with a little practice the number of 
 distinctions that can readily be identified is much increased. 
 The word constitutes a reaction that cannot be correctly per- 
 formed without holding in memory the quality to which it 
 applies. Thus a motive is furnished for distinguishing and 
 remembering this quality. Moreover, distinctions are better 
 remembered by being anchored, as it were, to a concrete and 
 clearly apprehended image, that of the word. This asso- 
 ciation tends to float an otherwise vaguely conceived element 
 away from the similars that are confused with it. The word 
 grips fast the distinction, and enables it to be held before at- 
 tention until it produces a sufficiently intense impression to 
 be clearly retained, and until it is associated well enough with 
 its name to call that up when it appears and, indeed, to be 
 itself recalled into consciousness by the mention of the name. 
 Thus the word helps the memory, first, in the task of distin- 
 guishing and identifying the object to which it applies, and 
 second, in that of calling to mind the image or concept of this 
 object. 
 
 When we come to deal with concepts that are non-sensuous 
 and represent a great number of relations, we find that the 
 word becomes practically indispensable. In the midst of an 
 ever shifting group of qualities, the word remains the sole 
 fairly constant sensuous element. To take, as an example, the 
 concept of a person; if one thinks of the extent of the changes 
 
 1 Psychology, p. 261.
 
 Language 365 
 
 that take place while an individual grows from infancy to 
 maturity, one realizes how dependent upon the name is the 
 idea of the continuity involved. The tenuous thread of that 
 set of relationships which we call the personality could scarcely 
 be held in mind in the midst of all the fluctuations of appear- 
 ance, of powers, and even of qualities of character, were it not 
 for the help of the image of that word that has throughout 
 the years remained the one sensuous thing invariably at- 
 tached to it. Our other reactions toward the individual have 
 all changed superficially or profoundly. And if the name 
 helps in distinguishing and in holding in memory the notion 
 of a person, much more important is it in seizing firmly class 
 concepts, such as that of horse, or such abstractions as equality 
 or nothing, where the sensuous images seem to have lost all 
 value as a means of identification. It is the importance of 
 this function of the word that led the Nominalist to maintain 
 that its image is the only mental representative of the abstract 
 universal element in experience. And, indeed, there would 
 be no difficulty in establishing the existence of imageless 
 thought, 1 were it not for the almost or quite constant presence 
 in such processes of the reverberating image of the words by 
 which the distinctions involved are wont to be seized by the 
 mind. 
 
 On the other hand, no mistake could be more fundamental The word 
 than that of confusing the word with the concept. The word 
 
 is simply a tool by which the memory is able to hold its con- dispensable 
 cepts firmly enough to define them, and to deal with them thought 
 as distinct elements. This function is certainly important 
 enough. If the concepts were not thus preserved by memory, 
 it would be impossible to utilize them in ideational readjust- 
 ment. The resources of the mind would be limited to naive 
 
 1 Compare Woodworth, "The Consciousness of Relation," Essays Philosophical 
 and Psychological in honor of William James.
 
 366 Principles of Education 
 
 perception and imagination. The evolution of fertility of 
 thought would be checked before it had attained that degree 
 which makes possible reflectiveness. Hence, judgment could 
 not arise to replace mere habit or feeling as a basis for decision. 
 For judgment rests, as we have seen, on alternative courses 
 clearly distinguished, on the sense that one can determine which 
 is most reliable and which he will choose to follow, and, finally, 
 on the presence of clearly conceived criteria. In short, idea- 
 tional readjustment cannot advance beyond its rudimentary 
 stages except by a system of concepts which can be held in 
 memory only by the aid of language. 
 
 (3) In a sense, this function of assisting memory is the most 
 fundamental of all the uses of language in connection with 
 the development of thought. It is the gain in resources which 
 comes from the strengthening of memory that enables the lan- 
 guage interest to grow into such an absorbing one, and hence 
 to make such an appeal to the reason. Moreover, the acquisi- 
 tion of these resources constitutes the act of taking possession 
 of one's social heredity. The distinctions that we must seize 
 in order to communicate are those which are common to 
 society, and to learn them means to bring the mind into con- 
 formity with the experience of the race. 
 
 (3) Language Here we come to the third and most evident of the uses of 
 portal to language. Speech breaks down the barriers between mind 
 the social anc } mmc i anc | extends the consciousness of the individual 
 
 mind and ' . 
 
 social to cover, in some sort at least, the social consciousness of his 
 time. Moreover, since this social mind is constructed out 
 of the past, one's thoughts become part of that stream of ex- 
 perience which constitutes social heredity. He receives his 
 spiritual inheritance through his mother tongue. 
 
 All this is commonplace, and it is unnecessary to enlarge 
 upon the enormous modification and gain that falls to the 
 share of the individual in this process. It should be noted,
 
 Language 
 
 367 
 
 however, that language represents the climax of imitation. 
 Whatever was said of the latter process applies, therefore, to 
 its specialized form. If imitation gives community action, 
 feeling, and thought, language especially fosters cooperation 
 and common consciousness. When we trace the consciousness 
 of the social elements and of the social norms to imitation, 1 
 we should remember that without taking the form of language 
 it could not lead to this result. Moreover, like imitation, 
 language cannot be regarded as directly increasing the re- 
 sources of the individual. What it does is to guide thought. 
 It is a selective agency. In the process of developing the pow- 
 ers and accumulating valuable ideas, it is of the greatest im- 
 portance that experimentation should be cut short. This is 
 what imitation does. It furnishes as a rule only tested and 
 approved models. The sanctions of imitation bring their aid 
 to the elimination of all experiments, whether in thought or 
 action, that do not copy these desirable methods. Instead 
 of floundering and, perhaps, sinking in a bog of blind trial and 
 error, the body is led to effective control and the mind to 
 accurate thought by following the selected path of its prede- 
 cessors. 
 
 Indirectly, this course results in an enormous gain of re- 
 sources. Although words add nothing to the elements of our 
 experience, they facilitate to such a degree its retention, 
 analysis, and organization that we are enabled to amass a 
 mental capital which transforms us into a new type of being. 
 Language offers a path by which the individual is directed 
 swiftly toward insights that the race has reached only after 
 an incredible amount of wandering and toil. It is not merely 
 that we are led through language to dwell upon especially 
 available experience and to let the rest go. This selected 
 experience has the additional qualities of being fundamental 
 
 1 Compare 37. 
 
 Language 
 the highest 
 phase of 
 imitation 
 and, in 
 conse- 
 quence, a 
 selective 
 agency 
 
 Resulting 
 gain in re- 
 sources
 
 368 Principles of Education 
 
 and conceptual. Hence it can be utilized in the greatest va- 
 riety of new combinations, and it covers those relations by 
 which experience is held in great systems. The formation of 
 new systems and the tenacity of the memory for the system- 
 atic involve positive and extraordinary gain in mental con- 
 tent. For example, it is through language that we are enabled 
 to construct the ideas of self and of others. In connection 
 with the concept of self we build up a past. The concept of 
 other selves extends this point into the realm of history. Thus 
 the world of experience, past and future, is built up out of the 
 simple experience of an individual life. It is differentiated 
 into the world of personalities, that most interesting and ab- 
 sorbing of all the interests of men. 
 
 In resume, we may note that language aids in the develop- 
 ment of thought by forcing us to reason, by enabling us to 
 seize and to retain in memory concepts and systems of thought, 
 and by introducing us through its selective influence into our 
 social heredity. The need of communication leads us to general- 
 ize. To render expression accurate, we are forced to analyze 
 and to abstract the factors in experience. The elements 
 thus revealed are held in memory by the assistance of the word. 
 Through these mental advances we are led into that world of 
 mind which lies behind the social environment, constituting 
 its essence. This discovery enhances the instinctive interest 
 in communication, and thus intensifies to an extraordinary 
 degree the activity of reason and social interplay. 
 
 SECTION 41. Social memory and written language 
 
 Oral language strengthens the memory of the individual, 
 not only by fixing in mind the concepts which the different 
 words or idioms express, but also by reenforcing the memory 
 of the individual for complex situations, events, laws, prin-
 
 Language 
 
 3 6 9 
 
 ciples, or practices through what may be called the memory of 
 society. Where the power of one to recall the past falters or 
 fails, that of another may be stronger. The corrected mem- 
 ory of each tends toward that maximum established by the 
 memory of the best endowed in respect to this faculty. In- 
 deed, this collective memory is fundamental in fixing the 
 meanings of words, and so in the process of holding in mem- 
 ory meanings through their agency. If one is to be under- 
 stood, he must always attach the same meaning to a word. 
 Society is forever correcting our forgetfulness in regard to 
 concepts by compelling us to use words in an uniform way. 
 
 At first the social support of the memory of the individual 
 is not consciously recognized. As the material held in col- 
 lective memory increases, however, the use of its resources 
 becomes more reflective. Certain individuals or classes, 
 known to be well endowed in respect to retentiveness, be- 
 come authoritative. Such people improve their position by 
 deliberately committing to memory important facts or legends 
 of history and the details of laws and customs. Often this 
 task of the mind is lightened somewhat by the use of rhythm, 
 alliteration, rhyme, or any other literary device whereby asso- 
 ciations are made more effective and memory strengthened. 
 Doubtless, in this fact is to be found an important, if not the 
 fundamental, reason for the literary form in which the basic 
 tradition of early civilizations is often preserved, especially 
 before the advent of written language. Poetry flourishes, 
 not merely because of its appeal to artistic taste, but also 
 because of its assistance to memory. Thus the Homeric bards 
 were enabled to preserve the fundamental ideals and traditions 
 of the Greek people, because these were embodied in poetic 
 form. Poetry tends to decline when at the advent of written 
 language its function as an aid to memory practically dis- 
 appears. 
 
 2u 
 
 Reenforce- 
 ment of 
 individual 
 by social 
 memory 
 through 
 oral lan- 
 guage 
 
 Rise of a 
 class au- 
 thoritative 
 in matters 
 of memory, 
 and of de- 
 vices for 
 memoriz- 
 ing
 
 370 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Advantage of 
 written 
 language 
 among 
 these de- 
 vices 
 
 Written lan- 
 guage and 
 the school 
 
 Literacy as 
 the mo- 
 nopoly of 
 a leisure 
 class 
 
 All the devices of oral memorizing are set at naught by the 
 invention of written language. Here we have an instrumen- 
 tality that surpasses the highest powers of the individual. 
 It is true that it rests back on individual memory for the mean- 
 ing of the words. However, there can be no doubt that when 
 words are written they tend to assume a much greater fixity 
 of interpretation than before. Various contexts determine a 
 meaning closely. Thus manuscripts and inscriptions pre- 
 serve their records faithfully through the ages, since by a com- 
 parative study of their characters the meanings of these are 
 made clear to the decipherer. Hence, it becomes very diffi- 
 cult to distort the meaning of written words unconsciously, 
 and conscious modification must be justified. Moreover, 
 if written language helps in fixing the meaning of words, much 
 more does it aid in preserving traditions, descriptions, laws, and 
 usages, in short, all matters that involve many details and 
 therefore require elaborate forms of expression. 
 
 Thus collective memory becomes reenforced by an agency 
 that expands almost indefinitely its powers. But in order to 
 utilize this instrument, the school becomes necessary. We 
 have already traced the rise of this institution from the primi- 
 tive exercises of adolescence. 1 The factor of instruction in 
 tradition, law, and belief, which enters therein, gradually 
 increases in amount. It becomes impossible for any save 
 those who have especial talent, and who devote themselves 
 largely to the task, to learn all that is thus preserved. Hence 
 oral tradition becomes the property of a class, an instrument 
 of authority, a means of social control, and subject to what- 
 ever modifications this class may, from interested or other 
 motives, see fit to introduce. But even to such a class oral com- 
 munication may finally break down as a means of preserving 
 its treasures. Pictorial representation becomes convention- 
 
 1 Compare 13.
 
 Language 371 
 
 alized and the ideograph invented, doubtless, largely as a re- 
 sult of a constantly growing fear that memory, in spite of all 
 precautions, may play one false, or to relieve the intolerable 
 burden that accumulating material places upon it. With 
 most people a knowledge of writing has remained for many 
 ages the exclusive property of a select class, the members of 
 which have the leisure, the ability, and the opportunity to 
 receive instruction in it. Among them the school as we know 
 it that is, an institution the primary purpose of which is to 
 develop literacy appears. The monopoly of power to read 
 still further exalts the authority of the learned class. 
 
 Thus devotion to the task of memorizing, and the inven- Ultimate 
 tion of devices to aid it, culminating in written language and effect"* 1 " 
 the school, are bound up with the development of a special- written 
 ized literary caste. Writing at first tends to increase their 
 authority. Ultimately, it tends to destroy this. For written 
 language can be learned so much more easily than the mass of 
 tradition can be committed to memory that independent ac- 
 cess to the treasury of the past is made possible to a wider 
 circle of individuals through its invention. Writing tends to 
 equalize the memories of all who learn it. Ultimately, this 
 fact begins to be felt in a struggle on the part of the unculti- 
 vated classes to share in a knowledge of the light. Moreover, 
 the act of committing a tradition to writing depersonalizes it, 
 as it were. It is no longer associated closely with the talent, 
 the training, the individuality of persons by whose memory 
 it is preserved. It becomes an impersonal thing to be shared 
 by all who read. Whatever of sanctity it possesses becomes 
 progressively lost to the learned class, the more the tradition 
 separates itself from living men, and the more reading ceases 
 to be an esoteric art. 
 
 The principle that is here outlined can be said to apply quite 
 universally in human history. Put in a general form , it declares
 
 37 2 Principles of Education 
 
 that any advance in written language by which the preserva- 
 tion through it of culture is rendered easier not only strength- 
 ens the social memory and so the grip of tradition, but also 
 tends to democratize this. Thus we find that the reduction of 
 law to written codes often occurs in connection with a demo- 
 cratic movement. The laws of Solon are said to have origi- 
 nated from such an emergency. The mass of the people feel 
 surer of the integrity of their rights if these are stated in a 
 form not subject to the manipulation of the judicial class. 
 Such security is dependent, however, on the literacy of at 
 least a portion of the governed class, and implies that the ad- 
 vance in writing has brought about a tendency toward the 
 democratization of the power to read. Again, the invention of 
 printing, although at first utilized largely by those already 
 interested in books, proved ultimately a most important cause 
 of universal literacy. It cheapened reading matter, so as to 
 put it within the reach of all who could learn to read, and the 
 general movement toward democracy has made it possible for 
 all to be literate. 
 
 Thus it is that improvements welcomed by the learned class 
 as increasing their efficiency ultimately tend to destroy their 
 monopoly. An equally paradoxical effect may be noticed in 
 regard to the conservative influence of written language. So 
 long as customs, laws, and beliefs are preserved by oral lan- 
 guage, they can be changed readily and unconsciously. To 
 realize this, one has only to recall the ease with which rumor 
 modifies the message that it spreads about. Such changes are 
 often intentional, but it is a matter of common observation 
 that differences in point of view, variations of emphasis, and 
 defects in power of understanding or of communication, all 
 tend to transform the original fact or idea, without any con- 
 scious falsification. Similarly, oral tradition becomes modi- 
 fied, lending itself to such changes as new emergencies, new
 
 Language 373 
 
 points of view, new interests create. It is a flexible affair, 
 easily adapted to the particular needs of the individual, class, 
 or age that preserves or utilizes it. Written language destroys Primary con- 
 much of this fluidity. It steadies the memory, not permitting 
 the reconstructions of a changed mood or intellectual stand- written 
 point. This gain in firmness carries with it at first a loss in 
 adaptability. The Chinese educational system is a stock 
 example of a tradition preserved intact until it has grown 
 out of touch with the actual emergencies of life. It is im- 
 possible to constrain human activity permanently within the 
 forms of such customs as even the wisest of men devise. 
 Nations, even those in isolation, move ahead. 1 The hollow- 
 ness of preserving the form after its real value has disappeared its ultimate 
 must ultimately be noted. Hypocrisy must at last become 
 conscious of itself, and then revolution is inevitable. The 
 process is swifter with nations that are much in contact with 
 others, and subject to the vicissitudes of international struggle. 
 Thus a few centuries after the substance of Hebrew tradition 
 had been committed to writing by Ezra we find Paul complain- 
 ing that "the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life." Such a 
 discovery tends to destroy the early faith in the infallibility 
 of those sources from which tradition is derived. When the 
 sanction of faith is lost, that of force is doomed. Revolution 
 begets new forms. But these in turn are seen to be of only 
 temporary value, and give way. Ultimately mankind comes 
 to feel the spirit of progress, to know that memory should be 
 the servant and not the master, and that the "golden age" is 
 ahead. Thus written language, at first intensely conservative, 
 comes ultimately to provoke that most progressive of condi- 
 tions in which men constantly strive for the betterment of 
 their institutions. Destroying the tendency toward uncon- 
 scious advance which oral tradition permits, it compels, in the 
 
 1 Compare 39.
 
 374 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Similar ef- 
 fects on 
 race and 
 individual 
 
 long run, the rise of a conscious spirit of progress that is un- 
 trammeled by a stultifying worship of the past. 
 
 The same agencies that improve the memory of a race, mak- 
 ing for stability and ultimately for conscious and intelligent 
 reform, operate in the education of the individual to foster firm- 
 ness of character and a conscious struggle toward betterment. 
 Character, according to Herbart, 1 depends upon ''memory of 
 the will," and this finds a most important auxiliary in the 
 reminders of teacher and parent. Whatever makes for per- 
 manence in the memory of society reacts upon the power of 
 the individual to restore his own past. The memory of each is 
 to a great extent an inference from his treatment by others. 
 The keeping of a diary may do much to clarify and render 
 effective one's ideals, and also cause one to substitute for the 
 ideal of mere consistency that of improvement. 
 
 We may sum up the thought of this section as follows : 
 Language is an aid to the memory, not only because the word 
 helps us to discriminate and retain the concept, but also be- 
 cause through communication the memory of the individual 
 is supported by the collective memory of all, especially by that 
 of the best. Those who by talent or training are best situated 
 to keep in memory the traditions become a privileged, learned 
 class, authoritative as the guardians of social heredity. Among 
 them devices for aiding the memory appear, the most impor- 
 tant of which is written language. This instrument leads to 
 the school, and so long as it can be monopolized by the learned 
 class, it enhances their authority. Ultimately written lan- 
 guage tends toward democracy, since it can be learned by all, 
 and since its acquisition tends to equalize men in respect both 
 to their efficiency in preserving the past and to their ability 
 to get at the sources of authority. Finally, written language 
 fosters so literal a conservatism that it creates the plague of 
 
 1 The Science of Education, third book, Ch. I, II.
 
 Language 375 
 
 the archaic law or institution. When the evil of this condition 
 is once recognized, men are compelled to lose their primitive 
 respect for the past and to assume consciously the revolution- 
 ary and the progressive spirit. This change in the spirit of 
 the institutions of men is paralleled in the growth of the char- 
 acter of the individual under the influence of the social mind. 
 One's "memory of the will" is strengthened so that he comes 
 to have ideals, to struggle for consistency, and finally to turn 
 his efforts toward betterment, even at the expense of breaking 
 with his past ideals. 
 
 SECTION 42. Education in language 
 
 Since the most important agency of social heredity is Ian- Language 
 guage, society has rightly emphasized it as the fundamental JJ^Sj da 
 concern in education. It is the leading "acquired character." concern in 
 Through it alone is a social environment of the higher type 
 made possible. Throughout the ages the linguistic aim has 
 dominated the school. But this devotion of the school to Criticism of 
 language has been severely criticised. Social, political, re- ^tTthe 
 ligious, educational reformers are fond of satirizing the love school to 
 of words that overmasters the learned professions, particu- 
 larly that of teaching. The spirit is distinguished from the 
 letter, the fact from the word, and the cry is raised that man- 
 kind has become enslaved by verbiage, and can be saved 
 only by abandoning symbols and associating more freely with 
 realities. 
 
 This criticism is at once superficial and true. It is super- Two serious 
 ficial because it assumes that the human mind possesses a con- 
 siderable power of dealing with realities apart from words. 
 It is true because the interest in words on the part of the 
 schoolmaster leads to certain oversights in instruction. It 
 may keep him busy in teaching words when the concepts that
 
 376 Principles of Education 
 
 they express have come to be practically valueless. It may 
 cause him to neglect a proper study of the concept in its rela- 
 tion to realities, with the result that it does not prove as avail- 
 able as it should in the analysis and treatment of new situa- 
 tions. 
 
 i) Verbal- These two criticisms sum up the serious follies of verbalism, 
 terfering" The first fault amounts practically to Bacon's "idol of the 
 with the market-place." Words constrain us to think in certain ways, 
 
 reconstruc- 
 tion of and often these are not the best ways of regarding the facts. 
 
 concepts; jr orms o f expression are an indispensable social adaptation, 
 but, like most of these, they vary in value with the ages. 
 They are the main avenue of approach to social heredity, but 
 social heredity contains much that should from time to time 
 be abandoned. Hence, in teaching words one must be careful 
 to note whether the concepts they express are really worth 
 while, whether the analysis of experience to which they lead 
 is one that meets the emergencies of life in general, and es- 
 pecially to-day. The possession of a name is apt to give a 
 concept a fictitious value. Since the name is a means of 
 preserving the concept for the individual and for the race, we 
 are apt to assume that because a concept has such a designa- 
 tion it is worth preserving. This by no means follows. So 
 far as the concept is concerned, the value of the name lies in 
 that it holds this concept in individual or social memory long 
 enough for it to be tested as to its value. But those who are 
 interested in names the learned class, whose business it is 
 to preserve social heredity through words, and the school- 
 masters, whose task it is to teach words that through them 
 social heredity may be accessible are apt not to notice when 
 a concept has failed to stand the test of practice. They pre- 
 serve terminologies when the systems of thought which these 
 represent have in effect proved to be useless or unreliable analy- 
 ses of experience. It is not realized that forms of analysis
 
 Language 
 
 377 
 
 ism as fail- 
 ing to pro- 
 vide for j 
 the useful 
 recall of 
 concepts 
 
 that are suited to one stage of social development may be 
 without value or positively harmful in another. Thus words 
 tend to interfere with that free struggle for existence among 
 concepts by which alone the latter can become truly scien- 
 tific. The love of language, like conservatism, prevents 
 hasty abandonment of ideas, but at the cost of keeping alive 
 much that functions in waste. 
 
 The second fault of verbalism lies in the tendency on the ( 2 ) verbal- 
 part of the school to be content with such a knowledge of the 
 concept as insures a working mastery of the word that des- 
 ignates it. The learning of a new word means an addition to 
 one's equipment of concepts. The acquisition of a foreign 
 tongue or of a scientific or philosophic terminology means a 
 new system of concepts, an expansion not only of words 
 but of ideas. The consciousness of this value leads the school 
 to rely too exclusively upon it. This attitude is supported 
 by a recognition of the fact that the generality of the concept 
 is the quality that makes it applicable to many situations, 
 and, therefore, the essence of that which is practically useful 
 in experience. It is assumed that, since a comprehension of 
 the meaning of the word implies a seizing of the concept in 
 the abstract or generalized form, the knowledge of this mean- 
 ing is all that one needs in order to apply the concept to use. 
 
 We have already pointed out that the mere knowledge of 
 the abstract concept does not necessarily involve the power 
 to recall it when it might prove useful. 1 One may know much 
 about the principles of mechanics, and yet fail to recognize in 
 a new case an occasion for the application of some of this knowl- 
 edge. It is necessary that one shall have noted the applica- 
 tion of the concept to many situations superficially much 
 different from each other in order to get it well under power of 
 recall. That accurate knowledge of the concept which comes 
 
 1 Compare 30.
 
 378 Principles of Education 
 
 from mastering the word and its general meaning does not 
 suffice to put it in a position to be readily utilized, 
 reed of It is interesting to note in the development of a vocabulary 
 
 training m & difficulty similar to the one just shown to arise in connection 
 
 the use of * 
 
 words with the effective mastery of a concept. All men know the 
 meaning of many more words than they actually use to ex- 
 press themselves. It is the business of the school, not only to 
 teach the meanings of new words, but also to practice in their 
 use, so that the gap between the vocabulary understood and 
 that utilized in speech may not be too great. Words, like 
 concepts, may lie as useless lumber in the mind, and the only 
 device that education knows to meet this difficulty is to force 
 both on the attention in such a variety of cases that the mind 
 associates with them such an abundance of incidental data as 
 to afford many links for their recall in addition to the funda- 
 mental common relationships that they represent. Thus one 
 grows expectant of them even in somewhat strange surround- 
 ings, 
 reed of As a final word upon the subject of instruction in language, 
 
 training m men ti on ma y j-, e ma de of certain values of the written record 
 
 keeping * 
 
 written rec- that need to be impressed on the learner. In the evolution of 
 written language writing preceded reading, but in the teach- 
 ing of the art reading almost universally comes first. Hence 
 it is that our power to read as a rule outruns our power to 
 write. We utilize what others have recorded, but make no 
 contribution from our own minds to the permanent records of 
 language. This attitude may be partly the result of lack of 
 independent creativeness and energy on the part of the great 
 majority. They are born not to lead but to follow, to rely on 
 others rather than to make use of devices for self-support. 
 Such passivity is not unconquerable, however, and it is the 
 part of education to make men self-reliant and resourceful. 
 Among the possible resources of the individual, not the least
 
 Language 379 
 
 is the habit of supporting the memory by the use of the written 
 record. 
 
 It is unnecessary to enlarge upon the gain in social efficiency 
 that comes from a knowledge of effective methods of written 
 expression and from the habit of their use. This value is so 
 evident as to have engaged fully the attention of master and 
 pupil alike. But comparatively few realize clearly the gain in 
 amount and reliability of resources for judgment that comes 
 from the recording of the experience upon which this process 
 of judgment depends. To the scientifically trained, it goes 
 without saying that observations which are not noted in writ- 
 ing will very probably be distorted or lost. Wherever in the 
 conduct of life the scientific spirit prevails, there the general- 
 izations upon which practice is based are founded on observa- 
 tions the nature of which is kept with care by means of a 
 written record. Other generalizations may well be char- 
 acterized in the scornful language of Plato as mere opinion. 
 
 The scientific record that is here in view is not functionally Scientific 
 the same as that which may not inappropriately be called the records 10 ' 
 historic record. There is a clear distinction between a record 
 that preserves facts accurately merely for the sake of drawing 
 from them correct generalizations and one that preserves facts 
 for their own sake, or facts that without any further generaliza- 
 tion may be of importance in determining future conduct. 
 The latter, or historic, record has an obvious value, and one 
 recognized from the very beginning of written language. The 
 desire to protect such legal facts as by their specific nature 
 determine future action, e.g. contractual relations, from the 
 treachery of memory or of cunning was an important motive 
 for the invention of writing. So, too, the merchant has from 
 time immemorial kept books to enable him to remember his 
 debits and credits. If one has many engagements, it seems 
 almost necessary to keep a record of them. Such historic
 
 3 8o 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Especial 
 need of 
 training in 
 keeping 
 scientific 
 records 
 
 records are valuable primarily because they involve the future 
 conduct in reference to each other of two or more parties, any 
 of whom may treacherously repudiate his obligation if there 
 be no written record or witness to refute him. They have, 
 however, the secondary value of sustaining the memory against 
 its own imperfections as well as against the trickery of others. 
 
 The value of the scientific record has not been so generally 
 felt. Where a fact is of no significance except for the sake 
 of helping to sustain or to disprove a generalization, one is apt 
 to trust it to memory. The merchant has not fully realized 
 the value of such records as help him to see which lines of 
 business are most profitable. The legislator has not made 
 much of keeping a written account of such data as concern 
 the effect of laws. Most physicians regard their memories as 
 able to preserve an adequate account of the effects of their 
 medicines. It is true that a sense of the importance of the 
 scientific record is gradually creeping into the professions. 
 We utilize in generalization such historic records as may prove 
 of scientific value. But the scientific record is often concerned 
 with facts that from the historic point of view have no in- 
 terest. Until they are put into generalizations they are triv- 
 ial and insignificant. The appreciation of the value of such 
 facts is, therefore, in need of careful cultivation. It is among 
 those attitudes that the school will find well worthy of attention. 
 
 It is probably correct to say that the school to-day, even in 
 its upper departments of college and university, stresses the 
 keeping of what we have called historic records rather than 
 those that are scientific. Note taking that one may pass ex- 
 aminations, or even that one may write essays, is usually an 
 historic record. The facts they preserve are of specific value, 
 and not, as a rule, to be used merely as a basis for generaliza- 
 tion. Here, then, is an opportunity for the school to lead the 
 way toward popularizing the spirit and the methods of sci-
 
 Language 381 
 
 entific research. In education, in politics, in business the 
 need of scientifically gathered data is beginning to be in- 
 tensely felt. Such a demand cannot fail to have its reaction 
 upon the instruction of the school. It can hardly be expected 
 that children in the elementary grades can be trained to the 
 highest appreciation of scientific method. Yet even so far 
 down in the school as this much in the way of a critical spirit, 
 a power to distinguish between carefully established principles 
 and mere opinions, and a sense of the value of the written 
 record in supporting generalizations can beyond question 
 be given. 1 
 
 We have in this section dealt with the most general edu- summary 
 cational issues involved in linguistic instruction. The ac- 
 quisition of language is with man the first and most impor- 
 tant step in attaining his social heredity. But in stressing 
 education in language the schoolmaster is apt to fall into 
 verbalism. Two serious evils may follow. The learning of 
 classic words may tend to perpetuate concepts that are or 
 should be obsolete. Terminologies preserve ideas and sys- 
 tems of ideas after they have outlived their usefulness. Again, 
 the study of the concept may be confined to those general 
 meanings with which the word is always associated. If so, 
 one fails to get it well enough associated with concrete situa- 
 tions to be readily recalled when it should be used. Herein 
 we find a phase of verbalism far more common and far less 
 easily detected than the wooden and patent blunder of teach- 
 ing words without meanings at all. Finally, the power to 
 use written language effectively is a result which, because 
 both of its difficulty and of its importance, should receive 
 especial attention in education. One should be taught to 
 express himself effectively in writing, and also to make written 
 records both historic and scientific. The making of scientific 
 1 Compare McMurry, How to Study, Ch. VI.
 
 382 Principles of Education 
 
 records is to-day a comparatively rare thing in the world at 
 large, and is very little emphasized in the school, especially 
 in the elementary grades. There is, however, a rapidly grow- 
 ing demand that the practice of various professions should be 
 made more scientific. Training in the scientific spirit by the 
 school can do much to accelerate this movement. Even 
 children in the elementary grades can appreciate the differ- 
 ence between a judgment based on recorded facts and one 
 dependent on a vague massing of material in memory.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 PLAY 
 
 SECTION 43. General theory of play 
 
 AMONG the forms that educational activities assume, that Play the fun- 
 of play is so important as to demand a special chapter in the 
 theory of education. Play is the characteristic activity of in- activity 
 fancy, and infancy is the time of special capacity to learn. 
 Hence, it would seem like a logical conclusion that the funda- 
 mental educative activity is play. Indeed, there can be little 
 doubt that this proposition is very near the truth. 
 
 At the outset of the discussion of our topic, it is necessary to Child play 
 distinguish between the play of children and that of adults, 
 
 While the latter grows out of the former and is, perhaps, from that 
 fundamentally the same, still there are some differences in Definition 
 motive, and there may be a very large contrast in function, of play 
 Play is commonly understood to mean any activity pursued 
 for its own sake without reference to the utility of its re- 
 sults. Herein both adult and child play agree. But in the 
 plays of the child the educational utility is far more in evidence 
 than in those of the mature person. 
 
 Taking up the play of children, one comes at once upon a instinctive 
 very interesting question. Why should the child like to do 
 that which is of such value in his development ? The proper 
 answer would seem to be that it is because the activities of 
 play are instinctive. This characteristic renders them inevi- 
 table and pleasurable without thought of consequences. The 
 child must play, first, because he has instincts and must strive 
 
 383
 
 384 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Two other 
 theories of \ 
 play 
 
 Criticism of 
 the recrea- 
 tion 
 thory, 
 
 to satisfy them, and, second, because his equipment of instinc- 
 tive acts and habits by means of which the instincts may be 
 met is imperfect. He lacks strength, maturity of instinctive 
 associations, adequate equipment of habits and experience. 
 He feels the force of the instincts and expresses them through 
 immature forms. This is child play. That he does not feel 
 dissatisfied with such activity, and long for such results as 
 mature power can achieve, is due to two subsidiary condi- 
 tions. The first is that through fostering agencies he is sup- 
 plied with those necessities which it is the business of the in- 
 stinct to urge him to seek. He is not driven by harsh need 
 of self-support to realize the difference between play and ma- 
 ture activity. The second is that through imagination he is 
 able to invent a world of make-believe, and thus to bridge the 
 gap between what he wants and what he can get. 
 
 The theory of play thus outlined is essentially that of Pro- 
 fessor Groos, 1 and may be said to be the one most generally 
 accepted. Other theories, the "recreation " theory of Lazarus, 2 
 and the "surplus energy theory" of Schiller 3 and Spencer, 4 
 may be said to be suggestive and contributory, but not fun- 
 damental. That adults turn, when they play, to some activity 
 other than that which is wearied is an usual, though by no 
 means an universal, rule. Play is not always recreative. 
 Again, if we were to suppose this to be its function, we might 
 well ask the nature of the forces that lead to so beneficent an 
 activity. To say that men turn to play because they are 
 tired of work is at best a merely negative explanation. Why 
 do they not content themselves with resting ? If the answer 
 is made that the most effective rest is in recreative activities, 
 
 1 The Play of Animals and The Play of Man. 
 
 2 Die Reize des Spiels. 
 
 * Letters on the ^Esthetic Education of Mankind. 
 4 Principles of Psychology, Part IX, Ch. IX.
 
 Play 385 
 
 one wishes to know the impulses that drive toward these. 
 The only answer is that they must be positive instincts, 
 which cause certain forms of activity to delight for their own 
 sake. 
 
 Thus, even with the adult, the recreation theory cannot ex- of the sur- 
 plain the positive activities of play. To the child, in whom ^ 
 play is the typical activity, the view seems to have no appli- 
 cation. The same difficulties beset the surplus energy theory. 
 Just as play is not always recreative with adults, and seldom 
 so with children, so the young and sometimes even the old 
 play when they have little or no surplus energy. It is well 
 known that children will play when they are tired or sick. It 
 is true that a playing child will, other things being equal, be 
 likely to employ powers that are not fatigued, yet if the in- 
 citement be sufficiently strong, he may continue to strain his 
 jaded muscles. Thus the surplus energy theory merely serves 
 occasionally to explain why children choose one sport rather 
 than another. 
 
 The form of play cannot be determined apart from the in- instinct ex- 
 stincts. In his sports the child manifests the fundamental 
 needs of his life by such activities as he is able to command, of play 
 That these activities are only playful is primarily due to the 
 fact that he is only a child. Even with men play usually 
 takes the form of some occupation in which the player is 
 merely an amateur. In general, activity will be playful when 
 it is immature, or when the situation that evokes it is not such 
 as to demand, or, perhaps, even to admit, its serious exercise. 
 The so-called instinct to play can probably be resolved into 
 the various instincts that give form to the play impulse. 
 The instincts are so powerful that they drive the individual 
 into activity. They make him essentially an active being; 
 to seem to love activity for its own sake, so that when he is not 
 coerced into work he must, unless exhausted, turn to play.
 
 386 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Distinction 
 between 
 play and 
 work 
 
 Play as pre- 
 paratory to 
 the avoca- 
 tion 
 
 Since we have so far discussed in the main the play of chil- 
 dren, we have had in mind an activity which has no special util- 
 ity except that which is educational. But if play is denned as 
 that activity which is attractive for its own sake, it is not of 
 necessity without consequences that are valuable independently 
 of their educational significance. Play may or may not be 
 serious. Similarly, work, which commonly means activity 
 for the sake of some ulterior end, may be so pleasant that one 
 would continue it even though its utility were absent. Thus 
 the boundary lines between play and work seem vague and 
 indeterminate. From the practical point of view, however, 
 a distinction can be made. Wherever utility is so important 
 that it would constrain one to a certain activity, even though 
 this were not attractive in itself, there we have work. On the 
 other hand, wherever the motive of utility is relatively in- 
 significant, there the activity may properly be called playful. 
 Thus with adults play means the avocation, work the vocation. 
 One's vocation may be delightful to him, yet he feels that 
 he cannot abandon it, even if it were irksome. On the other 
 hand, we feel no such coercive motive in our avocations. 
 
 With the lower animals and primitive men play leads in- 
 sensibly into both vocation and avocations. In fact, in these 
 cases' no sharp line of demarcation exists between the two 
 phases of adult life. In civilized society there is some doubt 
 as to whether play can be used to any extent to give specific 
 preparation for the vocation. This issue will be debated later. 
 But there can be no question that the play of the child leads 
 into the avocations of the man. There is a continuity be- 
 tween the games of childhood and the incidental pursuits of 
 later life which it is of great importance for education to note 
 and to respect. 
 
 We may sum up the contrast between the play of children 
 and the avocations of men somewhat as follows. Child play
 
 Play 387 
 
 functions mainly as an education. The avocation is partly Contrast be- 
 educative, but it also serves as a recreation, as contributory IncTavoca^ 
 to social efficiency by fostering contact with others in a va- tion 
 riety of ways, and as productive of many results of direct 
 utility, such as artistic surroundings. Both child play and 
 the avocation are pursued from interest in the activities for 
 their own sake. In the case of the child, this interest is not 
 clouded by any feeling of the lack of importance in what he is 
 doing. The fact that the vocation does not exist for him, 
 coupled with his power of make-believe, suffices to render him 
 contented with play. In the man the avocation is often felt 
 to need excuse. It may be justified because it appeals to the 
 judgment as to what is really desirable or in good taste, or 
 because of the need of recreation, or because the person has a 
 right to do as he pleases with his idle time. The interest in 
 the avocation may spring from its conformity to the tastes 
 of the individual, from an intense desire to be active, a sur- 
 plus energy that, owing to the situation of its possessor, finds 
 no need of discharging itself in the pursuits of a vocation, or 
 from a survival of child interest in certain specific activities. 
 This last feeling may be intensified by reverberations in mem- 
 ory of the joy of childhood in similar pursuits. It is doubtless 
 largely this that makes some so fond of witnessing as specta- 
 tors sports in which they formerly took part as players. 
 
 There is yet another phase of adult play that needs con- Theavoca- 
 sideration. The play of the child often becomes the serious basL'of the 
 pursuit, the work of the man. This happens because of its vocation 
 grip upon social interest. Through the game or the avoca- 
 tion one may gain praise, prestige, and, indirectly, many other 
 benefits of the highest utility. Hence men pursue such oc- 
 cupations, not for their own sake, but for their utility. Again, 
 their hold upon human interest renders it profitable for some 
 to make a vocation of catering to the taste for them. The
 
 388 Principles of Education 
 
 professional athlete, the actor, the artist, perhaps one may 
 even say the scholar and investigator, come into existence 
 because men are willing to pay for the entertainment they 
 afford. The avocation of the many becomes the vocation of 
 the few. 
 
 Hence it comes about that the game that at first functions 
 mainly as an education proves useful, not merely for recrea- 
 tion, but also as the serious business of life. The pursuits of 
 leisure become included among the vocations. That this 
 should continue to be so, however, requires that these activi- 
 ties should be for the mass of men avocations. Thus the play 
 of the child, in leading into the avocations of the man, is pre- 
 paring a social demand in which a large number of the voca- 
 tions take root. Ultimately, the callings that cater to what 
 have been historically the leisure interests of life will, doubt- 
 less, far overshadow the others in the numbers that are con- 
 cerned in them. 
 
 Educational The play of children, then, consists of the immature mani- 
 pky 0ni festations of their instincts. Such activities lead on into that 
 large mass of interests that sustains among men all pursuits 
 except those that minister to the simplest necessities of life. 
 That which men do for the sake of the doing is that broader 
 phase of their lives in which they join with humanity to 
 create the standards of life, the demands which men in their 
 vocations strive to supply. Thus play educates, not so much 
 in the vocation, as in those motives that make work, whether 
 in the child or the man, seem worth while. 
 
 SECTION 44. The games of childhood 
 
 Before discussing more minutely the educational value of 
 play, it may be well to analyze briefly the character of the 
 games of childhood, and also to take a rapid survey of the
 
 Play 
 
 389 
 
 part that the game has played in the history of education. 
 By a game may be understood any specific form that play as- 
 sumes. The games of childhood, and in fact of all ages, may 
 be classified as individual or social, according as they involve 
 one or more than one person. It is evident that individual 
 games are relatively far less numerous and important than are 
 those involving social cooperation. Moreover, such games as 
 may be said to be primarily individual may also assume a 
 social form and, indeed, come to have largely a social character. 
 
 The individual games may be roughly classified into (i) im- 
 pulsive activities; (2) games appealing to the aesthetic sense; 
 (3) feats; and (4) destructive and constructive sport. The 
 simplest form that the play impulse takes is that of mere 
 activity, without any conscious interest in either its form or 
 its results. Much of this sort of play is mere instinctive or 
 reflex activity, but the attitude of the child makes it seem 
 purposeless. Running, leaping, climbing, getting the body 
 into a variety of positions, grasping, and throwing things about 
 are illustrations. Such activities may also be mental and 
 take the form of an endeavor to get surprising or lively sensa- 
 tions or that of imaginative invention. 
 
 As the child accumulates experience and recalls his earlier 
 activities, mere impulsive play becomes transformed into 
 games in which either the form of what he does or its results 
 or both constitute important centers of interest. Where form 
 is the attractive element, we may say that the appeal is to the 
 aesthetic sense. Children love repetition, the recurrence of 
 the familiar, rhythm, and rhyme, and simple musical form. 
 When they grow old enough to grasp the customary, the con- 
 ventional, they become devoted to it, and protest strenuously 
 against any innovations. The child displays this taste in his 
 solitary games and in his imagination, in the tales that he tells, 
 and in his criticism of the stories that others tell him. 
 
 Games as in- 
 dividual 
 and social. 
 Impor- 
 tance of the 
 latter 
 
 Classes of in- 
 dividual 
 games : (i) 
 impulsive 
 activities. 
 Interest in 
 mere activ- 
 ity; 
 
 (2) esthetic 
 games. In- 
 terest in 
 the form of 
 activity ;
 
 3QO Principles of Education 
 
 (3) feats. The interest in performing feats is, perhaps, the simplest 
 
 Interest in 
 
 the results phase of sport in which attention is directed toward the result. 
 
 of activity; ^he stimulus is here, of course, often the desire to cope with 
 or to surpass a competitor, and hence we have a social game. 
 However, children endeavor to "do stunts" without any 
 pressure of rivalry. The surroundings invite the active child 
 to test himself ; memory offers a glimpse of his past activity 
 that he strives to surpass ; imagination, stimulated especially 
 by tales of the deeds of others or by a direct perception of 
 unusual forms of skill, provokes the child to emulate the ad- 
 mired acts so far as his physical or mental powers permit. 
 Here the feat merges into the dramatic game. 
 
 ) destmc- The interest in results culminates, so far as individual 
 
 structive 11 " games are concerned, in destructive or constructive sport. 
 
 sport The object of the game comes to be clearly distinguished from 
 the activities by which it is attained. Destructive sport, be- 
 ginning in such activities as breaking things and pulling them 
 apart, or destroying them and throwing them about, is at 
 first hardly distinguishable from mere impulsive activity. 
 Later, however, it becomes reenforced by curiosity and the 
 love of displaying power, and the child destroys in order to 
 learn or to exhibit his strength. Such interest is, however, 
 temporary, as a rule, and it is in constructive sport that the 
 genuine delight in the outcome of individual activity becomes 
 most clearly evident. Here the child plays, not merely be- 
 cause he likes to be active or because he is fond of reproduc- 
 ing certain pleasant types of activity or of doing new and 
 unusual deeds, but also because he takes delight in the prod- 
 uct of his play. More and more the game is becoming a means 
 to an end, an activity pleasurable largely because from it 
 emanate certain desirable, perhaps even tangible, results. 
 
 The same transition from interest in mere activity to interest 
 in the form and, finally, in the outcome of this activity is seen
 
 Play 
 
 in the development of social games. They may be classified 
 into (i) simple activities of social intercourse; (2) aesthetic 
 games involving social organization; (3) dramatic games; 
 (4) games of individual rivalry; (5) games of group competition. 
 
 By simple activities of social intercourse is meant such mere 
 impulsive sports as please, not only for the sake of the activity 
 itself, but also because others share in it. To run, jump, 
 climb, throw things about, etc., are more pleasant when 
 others are participating than when alone. The instinctive 
 love of social interplay, of expression and response, the nerv- 
 ous stimulus that comes from living presences, enter in to 
 enhance the attractiveness of any activity that involves social 
 intercourse. Often such sport takes the instinctive form of 
 physical combat of some sort, even when there is no sense 
 of rivalry, as when the little child engages in mimic struggle 
 with an elder person. The result is here of no importance. 
 The interest lies in the instinctive activity, which is pleasant 
 in itself. 
 
 Similarly, when we pass to the aesthetic games involving 
 social organization, we find that social intercourse heightens 
 the interest and increases the possibilities. Children may 
 arrange themselves in a form that has aesthetic value. Ring 
 games are almost without number. Social cooperation adds 
 greatly to the number of possible devices in the way of rhythm, 
 or song, or rule of procedure. Games become complicated, 
 and the children are able to play the more elaborate forms be- 
 cause cooperation supports the memory for details that would 
 be too great a strain on the individual, and because social 
 interplay sustains interest when that in mere aesthetic form 
 might flag. At first, these games appeal to social instincts 
 less fierce than that of rivalry. This factor, however, creeps 
 in at an early date, although it does not become a predominat- 
 ing interest until at least as late as the seventh year. 
 
 Classes of 
 social 
 games 
 
 (i) Simple in- 
 stinctive 
 social ac- 
 tivities. 
 Social in- 
 tercourse 
 as intensi- 
 fying in- 
 terest ; 
 
 (2) social 
 aesthetic 
 games ;
 
 39 2 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (3) games of 
 
 Practically all except the simplest games of children are 
 believe" learned by imitation. Those in which adult activities are 
 interest in mimicked may, perhaps, be called dramatic games and re- 
 form ; garded as a distinct group. Playing with dolls, playing horse, 
 playing Indian, etc., illustrate a type of activity that appears 
 in endless variety. There is no thought of valuable conse- 
 quences from the activity involved. The life of men and 
 women evokes the aesthetic admiration of the child because 
 it appeals to the developing instincts of boy or girl. The 
 game is really one of aesthetic interest, but it gains a peculiarly 
 social character because the child finds in the life of older 
 people a more satisfactory expression of his nature than in 
 activities which he can imitate without much strain on his 
 powers of make-believe. The desire to be and to do as the 
 highest standards of society suggest is here intensely felt. 
 Such games are not dramatic in the sense that the players 
 strive to appeal to an audience. Perhaps a more appropriate 
 name for them might be games of "make-believe," for the in- 
 terest, whenever it can be said to be more than pleasure in 
 variant types of activity, lies wholly in the sense of identifica- 
 tion with some admired phase of life. 
 
 The interest in the form of the sport reaches its climax in 
 these games of "make-believe," which constitute perhaps the 
 most common type of play of children between the ages of 
 four and ten. Eventually, the interest ceases to depend 
 mainly on the fact that the game reproduces a social model 
 which is admired, and comes to lie in the opportunity that the 
 game affords for that fascinating form of social intercourse, 
 rivalry. At first, the rivalries of children are passive affairs. 
 In the earlier games competition appears in eagerness to be 
 selected in preference to others to play a special part in the 
 game. The children may appeal for such a favorite role by 
 entreaties, cajolery, or complaint, but there is no active 
 
 (4) games 
 
 results;
 
 Play 393 
 
 endeavor to win the prize of victory by excelling in some ac- 
 tivity. It is this latter trait that characterizes the later games 
 of rivalry, the approved forms of which are adapted by a 
 long process of selection to bring into the most vigorous con- 
 test the leading functions of the individual. 
 
 Finally, we have the games of group contest. Here rivalry ( S ) games 
 becomes, in part at least, subordinated to devotion to the com- 
 mon interest of the side or team or whatever the social unit 
 may be denominated. It is more fascinating to play with a 
 side and lose than to play as an individual and win. In these 
 group contests nearly all the instincts of the individual are 
 called into operation. The love of activity, the aesthetic in- 
 terest in harmonious and familiar organization and in playing 
 according to rule, the instincts of sociability, rivalry, coop- 
 erativeness, and leadership, all come into play. Such games 
 constitute the great passions of youth, and even the adult feels 
 their compelling fascinations. 
 
 Up to the time when the motive of rivalry becomes promi- Effect of 
 nent, the plays of the child have resulted principally in ex- rivaio/on 
 pansion of resources rather than in growth of judgment. His judgment 
 potentialities in action have been exploited, experience has 
 been accumulated, imagination fed and stimulated. The 
 process of selecting that which is most appropriate, most 
 pleasing, fittest among these accumulating resources has been 
 going on, but there has been no insistent emphasis upon it, so 
 far as the playful activities are concerned. In this field of 
 sport, as long as the interests of older people have not been 
 crossed, compulsion has not interfered with the taste or caprice 
 of the child. This freedom suffers a serious check when 
 rivalry becomes dominant in the game. Competition banishes 
 all activity that is not effective in winning. It checks the 
 exuberance of the imagination, confining it to the true or, at 
 any rate, the approved. The child's constructions must now
 
 394 Principles of Education 
 
 be limited to that which possesses excellence, and the adult 
 model is no longer merely an invitation to activity, but a 
 command that this activity shall be good. The struggle to 
 conform, felt hitherto in the serious relations of life, is trans- 
 ferred to the games. Here it becomes fierce and overwhelm- 
 ing, for only through conformity can the child attain the 
 prizes for which his fellows in society are contending. The 
 will of the elders he may cajole or deceive. He may even rebel 
 against it, with hope of pardon or of compensating advantages. 
 But the outcome of a struggle with his peers means success or 
 failure, without hope of reversal or compensation. His play- 
 mates will not "baby" him. Thus the age when games of 
 rivalry begin to predominate is an age in which the child feels 
 the pressure of the standards of society as never before, and 
 under this coercion the exuberant products of his free activ- 
 ity are subjected to sharp criticism and selection. On the 
 one hand, the developing judgment of the child makes him 
 aware that in society the most positive way to succeed is to 
 excel. On the other, the rise of the instinct of rivalry sharpens 
 his judgment to distinguish the social demands conformity 
 to which means success. 
 
 The age of It is impossible to map out childhood into sharply denned 
 epochs. Nevertheless, the period between eight and ado- 
 lescence may not inappropriately be called the age of rivalry. 
 During this time the child is rapidly assimilating the social 
 standards by which he can determine the true, the right, the 
 effective. As he goes on toward adolescence, he discovers 
 that different people, different social groups, have different 
 standards. Just as the growth of a sense of standards gave 
 rise to a sharp struggle for existence and selection of the ear- 
 lier crude spontaneous products of body and mind, so the mul- 
 tiplicity of ideals gives rise to a struggle for existence. But 
 while in the earlier struggle it was the products of inner spon-
 
 Play 395 
 
 taneity that were subjected to selection by externally im- 
 posed standards, here these external criteria are in turn sub- 
 jected to selection by the standard of inward approval. Hence The age of in- 
 this new judgment seems, at any rate to the youth, like an 
 act of independent choice. He feels himself a factor in de- 
 termining those very criteria the weight of which has been so 
 heavy upon his freedom. At adolescence, when physiological 
 changes complete the physical equipment of the adult, the in- 
 tellectual changes meet this advance by introducing the in- 
 dependent spirit of the mature and responsible contributor to 
 social interplay. 
 
 This ethical independence is partly a result of the games of Ethical inde- 
 contest between groups, and partly it produces them. In ^d games 
 such sports the mutual dependence of members of a side makes of S^P 
 
 . contest 
 
 all of importance. The continuity and success of the game 
 depends upon the willing cooperation of all, and each plays 
 his part in determining the conditions without which his 
 cooperation cannot be obtained. Thus the individual as- 
 sumes the position of one who helps to form the standards to 
 which all conform. He becomes, in effect, an independent 
 element as well as a dependent one. The conditions that 
 make each dependent on all make all dependent on each, and 
 in such activities a larger independence arises. The games 
 which foster this attitude are logically the games that suit the 
 child who is passing out of the age of rivalry into what may 
 be called an age of independence. 
 
 If the games of contest between sides lead into ethical and Games lead- 
 social manhood, the constructive and dramatic games lead 
 up to vocational manhood. However, before this last result 
 is attained a long apprenticeship of training that is distinctly 
 work is ordinarily necessary. Hence the free spirit is lost. 
 The virtues of industry and self-control rather than those of 
 courage, independence, tact, loyalty, and command are cul-
 
 396 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 tivated. In a general way, the fundamental service of work 
 in education is to cultivate the power of manipulating materials 
 rather than men. 
 
 Summary it is evident, then, that the games of childhood lead up 
 
 from the simple love of activity to which they at first appeal, 
 to interest in aesthetic form, and from thence to a keen appre- 
 ciation of those standards and ideals that constitute the mo- 
 tives in the life of a civilized society. Promoting at first the 
 development of physical control and of experience, they later 
 turn to the task of fostering the imagination and, finally, the 
 judgment. Through their appeal to the sense of rivalry, they 
 enable the coercion of the child by the social standards. 
 Through their appeal to the instinct of cooperation, they en- 
 courage the child to choose his own standards, tastes, ideals. 
 Since they are for the most part social, they cultivate espe- 
 cially the social virtues and aptitudes. Since society is the 
 common master that all vocations serve, they introduce us to 
 the motives that lie behind the vocations. However, it must 
 be admitted that even in the dramatic and constructive games 
 we find in play alone no introduction to the vocation itself. 
 
 portance 
 of social 
 training 
 
 SECTION 45. The game in the history of education 
 
 Uses of play A sketch of the part played by the game in the history of 
 mala. Im- education will afford some suggestions as to its educational 
 value. In the life of animals play finds two functions : first, 
 that of strengthening and maturing the instinctive acts, and 
 of building up a body of experience concerning both their 
 relative value in the service of the instincts and the details of 
 their use ; second, that of social training. These two uses are 
 fundamentally the same, for social development is founded 
 upon instinct, yet even in animals the social training derived 
 from play is so important as to deserve to be separated from
 
 Play 397 
 
 the effect of this activity on the other instincts. The instinc- 
 tive friendships and hostilities of the brutes, their methods of 
 cooperation and of combat, are extensively affected by ex- 
 perience. It is here that education is peculiarly important, 
 for, as we have seen, a social environment consists of read- 
 justing individuals, and hence nature needs help from nurture 
 in order to keep pace with the demands either of competition 
 or of cooperation. In a general way, infancy, capacity for 
 education, playfulness, and ability to deal with social condi- 
 tions go together. The plays of animals are largely social in 
 character. 
 
 With primitive men play, supplemented by severe negative Play as the 
 discipline, such as reaches its culmination in the exercises of 
 
 adolescence. 1 affords nearly, if not quite, all the education, primitive 
 
 * education 
 
 The power to work is not markedly developed. The rude 
 forms of skill that are possessed can frequently be learned by 
 imitative play. Important as are the construction of shelter, 
 the making of clothing, the use of fire, tools, etc., man can ac- 
 quire these arts very easily, and civilization is well advanced 
 before they demand any elaborate apprenticeship. On the 
 other hand, social organization, involving language and polit- 
 ical and religious institutions, together with a mass of common 
 usages, presents even to primitive man an enormous quantity 
 of material to be mastered by the learner. However, all this 
 material can readily be embodied in activities that are essen- 
 tially playful. Until written language appears, there is little 
 need that liberal education should involve much genuine work. 
 
 The association of the game with religious ceremonial is an Association 
 interesting feature of its early history. Whenever the members 
 of a tribe assemble for a common purpose, they are apt to 
 celebrate the occasion by games, which are usually prescribed 
 by religious custom and infused with religious feeling. Stated 
 
 1 Compare 13.
 
 398 Principles of Education 
 
 festivals in honor of certain deities, the celebration of births or 
 marriages, funeral ceremonial, the visit of an ambassador, the 
 
 Reasons for initiation or conclusion of some important tribal enterprise, 
 as war or the hunt or migration, all involve games. It is 
 evident that they have a value which is closely associated 
 with that of religion. They infuse the group with a common 
 spirit and aim, and hence like religion they are a most impor- 
 tant agency in social control. The game assists religion in its 
 work of socialization by presenting it in forms that are attrac- 
 tive and that involve vigorous social interplay. On the other 
 hand, religion solemnizes the game and strengthens its hold on 
 humanity, converting it from a diversion into an institution. 
 
 One other common feature makes the union of the game 
 and of religious ceremonial easy and natural. The form of 
 both is freely chosen, and no imposed by an evident utility 
 in the accomplishment of certain definite results. Religious 
 worship is, it is true, among primitive men intended to secure 
 the favor or to ward off the hostility of the supernatural powers. 
 However, one ceremonial is as good as another, so long as it 
 satisfies the popular notion of what the gods want. The 
 ultimate standards that determine the survival of this or that 
 custom of worship can only be the values it possesses for 
 strengthening society, on the one hand, and for pleasing the 
 aesthetic taste of the individual, on the other. These same 
 criteria determine the form of the game. It is interesting to 
 note that art, which is a child of the spirit of play and that of 
 religion, is a strange compound of the lightness and the freedom 
 of the one and the profound seriousness of the other, while it 
 justifies itself, as do both, by its value as an agency for social 
 culture and for aesthetic delight. 
 
 Play in When one speaks of the history of the educational use of 
 
 Greek edu- ^g g ame thought inevitably turns to the Greeks. More 
 
 cation J . ... 
 
 than any other people they utilized this form of activity in
 
 Play 399 
 
 the training of the young. The school life of the Athenian or 
 Spartan child of from six to sixteen years of age was during 
 the earlier periods of the history of these states little else 
 than organized and supervised play. Through such means 
 they gained their physical culture and their training in music. 
 The control of the games by adults made them somewhat 
 strenuous. The social premium upon success was sufficiently 
 great to make the game involve much work, and often to seem, 
 as a whole, work rather than play. Nevertheless, the life 
 of the school was in a peculiar sense an end in itself. The 
 conception of preparation for adult life is almost thrust out 
 of sight by the absorption in the activity of the moment. 
 Moreover, this activity was largely in forms that children 
 employ in play. Indeed, in so far as the old Greek education 
 prepared for the future, it did this in ways that were equally 
 valuable for present uses in the life of the school. 
 
 The reasons for this are easily to be found. They lie in the Reasons for 
 nature of the Greek civilization and character. It will be 
 noted that in the adult activities of the Greek the game played 
 an unusually important part. It is probably not far from 
 accurate to say that the public games were the most character- 
 istic national institution of the Greeks, just as the character- 
 istic form of Greek worship was a sort of aesthetic revelry. 
 The games of the school life prepared, therefore, with 
 directness for an important phase of adult activity. But 
 back of the emphasis of the game both in the school and in the 
 life of men lay the fundamental social and liberty-loving nature 
 of the Greek. These two traits of character are reflected in 
 his civilization. The city-state of historic times constituted 
 a little community of free men, who lived in close proximity, 
 and who devoted themselves to war, politics, and social life, 
 while their slaves did the manual work. That for which the 
 free child needed to prepare was not a specialized vocation,
 
 400 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The higher 
 learning 
 and the 
 disappear- 
 ance of 
 play from 
 the edu- 
 cation of 
 leaders, 
 
 but rather independent social activity. As a fitting education 
 for the latter he served an apprenticeship in the free life of the 
 school, where tradition was poetry, and wisdom the knowledge 
 of men. For the training of an aristocracy of free men the 
 game has the great advantages of giving each a chance to par- 
 ticipate in leadership and of compelling the leader to rely 
 for his support upon the free consent of all rather than upon 
 blind custom or terror. It may be laid down as a fairly uni- 
 versal principle that all free aristocracies emphasize especially 
 play as an educational agency. Such a principle is exemplified 
 in the education of the Persians, of the medieval knights, of 
 the later German aristocracy in the Ritterakademien, and of 
 the English aristocracy of to-day in the Public School. 
 
 The development of written language is primarily respon- 
 sible for the loss on the part of the game of relative importance 
 in free aristocratic education. This instrumentality becomes 
 so important an adjunct of all phases of political and social 
 activity as to make literacy and some degree of learning a 
 source of power, a badge of distinction, an indispensable 
 acquisition for any who would make themselves influential. 
 The aristocrat must needs master such philosophy and science, 
 such law and history as gives him a grip on the institutions 
 and the society in which he is supposed to be a dominant force. 
 When grammar, rhetoric, and logic add their resources to the 
 art of oratory it becomes necessary for the statesman to go 
 through a prolonged linguistic training. To acquire this 
 body of learning and this linguistic skill persistent effort on 
 matters that look toward future efficiency rather than toward 
 immediate returns to the child becomes necessary. To insure 
 this effort the factor of coercion becomes more prominent in 
 education. The school becomes a place of tasks and of punish- 
 ment, and the symbol of the rod comes to indicate the school- 
 master. That sharp discipline that hitherto was employed
 
 Play 
 
 401 
 
 only to inspire the proper regard for social ideals, as in the 
 adolescent exercises, is transferred to the laborious task of 
 acquiring learning. 
 
 The accumulation of learning means not only more laborious 
 education for those who would become social and political 
 leaders, but it also creates a new ideal of life. Men come to 
 feel that the life of culture is worth while for its own sake. 
 Scholarship, philosophy, and poetry become cultivated, not 
 merely as adjuncts of social and political efficiency, but as 
 constituting the ideal pursuits of man. The leisure class comes 
 under the spell of the learned ideal, according to which the 
 highest end of all endeavor is to know, or the ideal of the artist, 
 who gives himself wholly to creating and enjoying the beautiful. 
 The endeavor to pursue those ideals involves a large labor of 
 preparation, which the school has historically not given in the 
 form of the game. 
 
 Especially did the learned ideal tend to eliminate the game 
 from the school. For it is not strongly social in character, 
 and, since the game finds its leading value in developing social 
 aptitude, the man who looks to knowledge for its own sake 
 as the end of living is apt to discredit an agency that distracts 
 from his absorbing pursuit and cultivates qualities that to him 
 have no essential value. This tendency on the part of those 
 who represented the learned ideal appeared among the ancients 
 in their philosophic schools, and became further emphasized 
 by Christianity. For Christianity not only sanctioned the 
 tendency to pursue learning, giving it a religious interpreta- 
 tion, but it also, finding the goal of this life in the life to come, 
 made salvation in that other world depend on a discipline 
 that had no reference to earthly efficiencies, unless we except 
 moral ones. Even the moral virtues that it exalted were 
 largely negative, the only important positive one being that 
 of an indiscriminate and unscientific charity. Thus the indi- 
 
 2 i) 
 
 from edu- 
 cation for 
 leisure 
 
 The game an- 
 tagonized 
 by non- 
 social and 
 ascetic ten- 
 dencies
 
 402 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 vidual was thrown back upon himself. The inner life, to 
 which he and God alone had direct access, became the all- 
 absorbing drama that seized his attention. He had little use 
 for play, which makes us worldly and cultivates a social effi- 
 ciency that has no relation to the soul's salvation. Hence 
 the hermit, the solitary cell, the vows to silence. In such 
 practices they strove to assure to the soul its chance to grow 
 up into the knowledge of God, and into immortality. 
 
 When we add to the individualism of the learned ideal and 
 of the medieval Christian conception of salvation the asceticism 
 that came from the supreme valuation of the spiritual and the 
 fear of the contamination of the earthly, we have an array 
 of forces before which the game went down as a factor in edu- 
 cation. It was seductively pleasant, worldly, social. The 
 spirit of the time feared all these qualities. The military 
 aristocracy of the Middle Ages developed from primitive 
 forms an education of games, infusing it with Christian ele- 
 ments, but learned education has waited until modern times 
 for any adequate recognition of the value of play. 
 
 The causes for this revival of the game as a factor in con- 
 sc i us ly controlled education may be summed up under three 
 game in heads: (i) the recognition of the importance of interest as a 
 education, feature of educational method; (2) systematic training of 
 (i) Neces- veryyoung children; (3) a larger conception of the scope and 
 function of the school. We shall consider these factors in 
 order, (i) The emphasis upon interest was due to a constantly 
 increasing sense of the barrenness of school work so long as the 
 motivation was left to take care of itself, or limited to com- 
 pulsion. The coercive resources of the master failed to keep 
 pace with the drudgery of the school. The Renaissance made 
 literary education quite common for the upper classes. But, 
 given as it was in the ancient tongues, it required long labors. 
 Many teachers found that these could occasionally be lightened 
 
 Reasons for 

 
 Play 403 
 
 by the introduction of games. Thus the Jesuits employed 
 concertations for the same reason that old-fashioned country 
 schoolmasters used spelling matches, and modern ones may 
 use card games to teach arithmetic. The work of the school 
 was put in the form of a game of rivalry. 
 
 It is, perhaps, due to Rousseau more than to any other man Rousseau and 
 that modern education feels the necessity of interest. His 
 revolutionary protest against the arbitrary enslaving educa- 
 tion of his time may be regarded as the great "Bill of Rights" 
 of the child, a proclamation that has come to have universal 
 acceptance to-day, not because we entertain his extravagant 
 notions of the perfect nature of the child, nor even because of 
 our eagerness to yield to the child his rights, although this 
 feeling is, to say the least, pronounced, but rather because we 
 feel that without interest we fail to get satisfactory results 
 for the time and effort spent in teaching. The educational 
 platform of Rousseau would justify play as practically the 
 sole method of education. Hence Basedow, the follower of 
 Rousseau, utilized it freely in his Philanthropinum. 
 
 The critics of educational reform have often identified the Play not the 
 program of interesting the child with a transformation of school 
 activity into play. Such a belief is unwarranted. The em- 
 phasis on interest leads to the introduction of play, but it does 
 not follow that only through the game can the work of the 
 school be made interesting. The Herbartians make interest 
 the foundation of method, but they have never regarded play 
 as the only, or even the leading, phase of school activity. 
 
 (2) The development of systematic school training for very (2) System- 
 young children makes the use of the form of play in school ^ io ^ 
 
 work practically inevitable. On the one hand, their lack of young chil- 
 dren and 
 experience makes it difficult or impossible to invoke any motives p ia y 
 
 save those of play or of arbitrary coercion, and, on the other, 
 the play motive seems adequate to secure such persistent
 
 404 Principles of Education 
 
 effort as the child is at that age capable of putting forth. 
 
 Controlled Nevertheless, the kindergarten, as Froebel conceived it, and 
 as it is conducted by the best of his disciples, is not a place for 
 mere uncontrolled play. Frcebel was far from agreeing with 
 Rousseau that a child would develop himself properly under 
 the stimulus of his own spontaneous impulses. The prescrip- 
 tive and the mandatory elements in education are, indeed, 
 proscribed by Froebel. They reappear, however, in the form 
 of a negative control that he advocates. The teacher must 
 everywhere consult the spontaneity of the child, but when 
 these budding tendencies lead into dangerous directions, 
 there must be, he maintains, an unhesitating repression, and 
 the discipline of natural consequences is to be supplemented 
 very materially by arbitrary condemnations and punishments 
 meted out by those who have the child in charge. Thus the 
 Frcebelians advocate, not purely spontaneous, but rather 
 controlled, play. > 
 
 (3) The (3) The third influence leading to the modern revival of 
 
 catbn and" P^Y as a factor in education is the growth of a larger concep- 
 
 tion of the scope and function of the school. From being 
 simply an institution to teach literacy and to transmit the 
 content of learning, it has come, owing to the development 
 of democracy, to concern itself with civic training, with voca- 
 tional training, with health, and, indeed, with all that tends to 
 make the individual more efficient and more happy. Many 
 of these larger aims can be very directly reached through edu- 
 cation by play. This is especially evident in the case of health. 
 It is interesting to note that physical culture is more and more 
 betaking itself to play, as a better method of getting results 
 than the earlier routine gymnasium work. Moreover, the 
 schools of the people are beginning to recognize, as the schools 
 of the aristocracy have always done, the importance of student 
 social life as an agency in the larger preparation of the youth
 
 Play 405 
 
 for his future. We are coming to feel that clubs, societies, and 
 student enterprises of all sorts are not to be regarded simply 
 as incidents to the school life, of no concern to the school 
 authorities, save as by their excesses they create problems of 
 repression. On the contrary, they constitute a phase of school 
 activity quite as important as that central core of systematic 
 studies upon which hitherto so exclusive an emphasis has been 
 placed. 
 
 In resume, we note that throughout history the game has Summary 
 been intimately associated with the ethical and social educa- 
 tion of men. In this service it has allied itself with religion. 
 It is a form of education that has been especially prominent 
 in the culture of free aristocracies. On the other hand, the 
 evolution of craftsmanship has involved the development of 
 apprenticeship or of vocational education through work. 
 The development of written language and the accumulation 
 of learning, with a consequent increase in the labor of preparing 
 for social and political efficiency, caused the coercive factor to 
 appear in liberal education. Work appeared at first incidental 
 to the larger play life of the school, but ultimately became 
 the predominant feature therein. The growth of the learned 
 ideal and of Christianity practically thrust the game out of the 
 education of the school. In modern times it has again come 
 forward as a means of making school work interesting, partic- 
 ularly to young children, and as the natural method of culti- 
 vating the health and the civic and social efficiency that have 
 come to be such important factors in the aim of education. 
 
 SECTION 46. Play in the education of the future 
 
 The function of play in education may be regarded as one 
 of the unsettled questions. Schoolmasters are still divided 
 both in their theory and in their practice. On the one hand,
 
 406 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Two views as 
 to the 
 proper at- 
 titude of 
 the school 
 toward 
 play 
 
 Abandon- 
 ment of 
 play by 
 both voca- 
 tional and 
 liberal edu- 
 cation 
 
 we have these who, inclining toward the theory of Rousseau 
 and Groos and the practice of Frcebel, are wont to advocate 
 a general transformation of school work into play. In such 
 activity, they think, Nature has provided a "royal road" to 
 that which has in the past cost many pains and tears. 
 
 On the other hand, we have those who, without going to the 
 extremes of asceticism, regard play as not only incapable of 
 preparing for efficient living, but as an activity against which 
 the school that does good work must be constantly at war. 
 They note that the power which separates the savage from 
 the civilized man, the ne'er-do-well without capacity for sus- 
 tained effort in any field from the man of effective energy, 
 is capacity to bring his spontaneous impulses under the control 
 of a coercive purpose, to work. They are convinced that 
 extensive indulgence in play will impair the power of self-con- 
 trol necessary for persistent labor. Many doubt whether 
 play possesses any educational values that are not to be gained 
 by the far more helpful and far less demoralizing activity of 
 work. Hence, schools have on the whole discouraged the play 
 spirit, and have striven to interpenetrate their activity with 
 the serious, coercive, and remote aim of education. Play 
 has been tolerated only because it could not be entirely sup- 
 pressed. The margin of time for such free activity has been 
 cut down to that minimum beyond which it would seem that 
 coercion cannot go. Or, if a more liberal view prevailed, it 
 was held that play might be tolerated as a means of rest and 
 recreation in the breathing places between the really serious 
 labors of education. 
 
 It is probable that the view that disparages play is not the 
 only one that involves error. The study of the games of 
 children and of the history of play as a factor in education 
 suggests that, although this activity has extraordinary value 
 as an educational agency, it yet has certain limitations. It
 
 Play 407 
 
 is noteworthy that wherever there has appeared a form of 
 physical or mental skill the mastery of which involves persist- 
 ent effort, there the game has been abandoned as a means of 
 preparation. None except the simplest vocations have ever 
 been maintained by an apprenticeship consisting to any con- 
 siderable extent of play. Moreover, the development of 
 written language and a mass of learning has placed liberal 
 education in a position in which it has not been able to trust 
 its fate to playful social intercourse, even when a measure of 
 supervision has been exercised to curb excesses and to direct 
 the "spontaneity" aright. 
 
 The believers in play will urge that the reason why it dis- Criticism of 
 appears in these educational emergencies is not because it is 
 incapable of affording instruction in any form of skill, however 
 elaborate, but rather because the schoolmasters have not been 
 clever enough to put their instruction in its forms. They 
 have gone on trusting to direct coercion as the simplest method 
 of bridging over any difficulty of attitude on the child's part. 
 But, according to the reformer, here as elsewhere the most 
 direct route has not proven the shortest, and the school has 
 failed of results for lack of finesse in methods. 
 
 In the minds of some educational reformers, then, play TWO prob- 
 appears as the universal method of motivating the difficult ^ to the 
 tasks of the school. But this is only one phase of the problem part of play 
 
 . . . i < i * n ed 
 
 of play m education. Any question as to its value for this tion 
 purpose should not blind us to the fact that it has been from 
 time immemorial the natural method of social and ethical 
 training, and that it possesses peculiar advantages as an agency 
 for such culture, particularly in a free community. The en- 
 deavor to forecast the part of play in the education of the 
 future involves, therefore, two problems: (i) in how far can 
 play be used to motivate difficult school work ? (2) to what 
 extent should the school take seriously and assume control
 
 408 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Ambiguity 
 in the 
 meaning 
 of play 
 
 Definitions of 
 work and 
 play 
 
 over those play activities which originally were the whole of 
 liberal education, although with the development of the more 
 laborious phases of culture they have come to be regarded as 
 subsidiary ? 
 
 (i) The love of play as a school motive 
 
 Any discussion of play as a means of motivating difficult 
 tasks is likely to become entangled in conflicting conceptions 
 of its meaning. If, on the one hand, we think of play as 
 activity pursued for its own sake, then, since a definition can 
 be converted simply, we must believe that every activity 
 that pleases without reference to results is play. Hence it 
 would seem that as soon as the tasks of the school are made 
 interesting to the child they cease to be work. On the other 
 hand, some mean by play that which has no utility. Work 
 is serious, they think, but play has no value except that of 
 the pleasure one gets out of it. On this view, if an activity 
 can be regarded as educative, it in so far ceases to be play 
 and becomes work. The school, therefore, can have no place 
 for play in the proper meaning of this term. 
 
 Both these notions appear in everyday discussions of the 
 subject. The contradictions that they involve are, however, 
 to be dispelled if one strives to discover the underlying truth 
 in each view. We may admit both that work may become so 
 interesting as to fascinate without any thought of its utility 
 and that play may gain results of the highest utility, yet it is 
 possible to make a working distinction between them. The 
 definitions given in an earlier section 1 may be taken as a fairly 
 logical statement of the practical meaning of each. Work 
 is activity which, whether we like it or not, we must enter 
 upon because of its consequences. If the coercion is not in 
 
 1 Compare p. 315.
 
 Play 409 
 
 the foreground, at least it is in the background. Play, on the 
 contrary, whatever its utility, is felt to be a matter of free 
 choice. We can play or not as we wish. 
 
 With such a definition as a basis, it becomes evident that, Differentia- 
 if the play of the child becomes suffused with the sense of a 
 
 child ac- 
 
 higher coercive force that compels its continuance, even tivity into 
 though the caprice of the moment would lead elsewhere, it is work* 
 transformed into work. The early activity of the child, which 
 is pure play, becomes under the influence of the growing appre- 
 ciation of the "must" and the "ought" differentiated into 
 two parts. The one has utility for the larger purpose of life 
 that he is beginning to realize. He may or may not like it, 
 but he cannot avoid it and satisfy his judgment and his con- 
 science. The other is not felt to be so important, so inevitable. 
 It retains, in some measure at least, the old spontaneity and 
 freedom of the earliest life of the child. He may realize its 
 value, yet he does not regard it as necessary. It is what we 
 may very properly call play, although we make many distinc- 
 tions, graduating such pursuits in relative importance accord- 
 ing as they seem to bear on the more serious phases of life and 
 involve a greater or less amount of incidental work. 
 
 The school would seem to find it necessary to recognize Needofcui- 
 this distinction between work and play, instead of striving >t g in . t 
 to obliterate it. An attempt to motivate school work by of work 
 turning it quite generally into play would seem to fail of intro- 
 ducing the child into an appreciation of the fundamental 
 values that drive civilized man to work. Among the attitudes 
 that it is especially important that the school should cultivate 
 in the pupil is that of submitting himself to the patient indus- 
 try, the persevering effort, that make up what we may call the 
 spirit of work. The school life of the child should naturally, 
 but inevitably, introduce him into the distinction between the 
 vocation and the avocation. It should teach him to love his
 
 410 Principles of Education 
 
 work, it is true, but not by turning it into something which is 
 not a genuine task. 
 
 Coercive in- At this point the objection may be made that not even so 
 ton C piay radical an advocate of the spontaneity of the child as Rousseau 
 into work nas ev er held that he should be continually shielded against 
 the coercive necessities which stimulate to work. To argue 
 that the school should teach children to work is to waste words, 
 for no one seriously thinks otherwise. Nevertheless, it will 
 be admitted that the attempt to motivate school work by 
 giving it the form of play has been and still is one of the com- 
 monest of the manifestations of the spirit of reform. The 
 reformers themselves never make the mistake of supposing 
 that the child is to be permitted to retain the play attitude. 
 He is to be interested in the work because it seems like play, 
 but, if interest lags, he must be compelled to play. Such 
 coercion may well cause the child to feel that the play form is 
 merely a pretense. And, if the reformer in an endeavor to 
 avoid the need of coercion seeks some new game, that by its 
 interest may lull to sleep the suspicions of the child, he simply 
 plays at hide and seek with that necessity which his pupil 
 must ultimately discover behind all his seductive forms. 
 Sooner or later the stark outlines of duty must appear, as the 
 genius whose tyrannical spirit dominates work, whether in the 
 school or in life. 
 
 Need of pre- However, the reformer will urge that he does not intend to 
 
 distinction 6 conceal duty from the child. His design seems to be, not to 
 
 between abolish work, but to lead up through play to such an apprecia- 
 
 wor k tion of the meaning and the grounds of duty as shall make the 
 
 child give in freely his devotion to that stern ideal. In this 
 
 plan the partizans of progress may well wish him Godspeed, 
 
 but one should take account of the fact that it contemplates a 
 
 constant widening of the gulf between work and genuine play 
 
 as the pupil grows older. This gulf should be recognized.
 
 Play 411 
 
 It is one thing to say that with little children education should 
 be largely through play, and that this should be the pathway 
 of approach to work, and another to maintain that there need 
 be no fundamental distinction between them. The latter 
 inference is unfortunately apt to be drawn when one speaks 
 of play as the means of motivating the difficult tasks of the 
 school. 
 
 Not only should the school teach the spirit of work as con- 
 trasted with that of play, but among the things in which it 
 must give instruction are forms of physical and mental skill 
 that could not be learned except by such prolonged and labo- 
 rious effort as must of necessity involve a powerful coercive 
 motive. It is, perhaps, impossible to demonstrate that free 
 play could not suffice to lead children to master the reading, 
 writing, mathematics, etc., which our civilization deems essen- 
 tial, not to speak of vocational training and of the higher 
 phases of liberal culture. It is, however, certain that no school 
 has made more than a feeble attempt to get these results by 
 play. Historically the appearance of such studies has not 
 only introduced work but, as we have seen, tended to drive 
 out play. It is the latter unfortunate fact which has led to the 
 view so commonly held that play is of no real importance in 
 education. 
 
 We may say, then, that the uncritical resort to the play Bad results 
 motive has three bad consequences, (a) It fails to differentiate 
 
 between what play can and cannot do in the school. The of play as 
 
 an educa- 
 
 conception of play is not properly defined, and it is taken to tkmai 
 mean any work in which the child is interested as well as gen- method 
 uine play. (6) The general public in criticising the efforts 
 of reformers, and the disciples of these reformers in attempting 
 to carry out their ideas, are apt to conceive of play in the ordi- 
 nary sense, as activity which the child engages in merely 
 because he likes it and without any appreciation of an ulterior
 
 412 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Four leading 
 school mo- 
 tives : 
 
 (i) Play as 
 the child 
 motive 
 
 utility. The result is that the public regard with suspicion 
 the "sugar-coated" education that they think has been intro- 
 duced, and the teachers only too often give a ground for their 
 suspicions by sedulously avoiding any coercive motive for 
 fear of interfering with the freedom of play in the child. 
 (c) The emphasis upon play as a device of method distracts 
 attention from the far more important task of organizing the 
 genuine play activities of children in such a way as to get from 
 them the best educational results. The play of the small 
 child leads into both the play and the work of the older one. 
 The important thing is not that when work appears it should 
 be indistinguishable from play, but rather that the play that 
 persists should be carefully guarded as an educational force. 
 
 It is evident that, while the love of play is a legitimate 
 school motive, it is only one among many. A rough classifi- 
 cation of the kinds of school motive yields four types : play, 
 the desire for approval and the fear of criticism or punishment, 
 utility, and the love of knowledge or skill. In general, the 
 play motive is adapted especially to children up through the 
 kindergarten. It continues to be a prominent interest all 
 through the school period and, indeed, through life. How- 
 ever, it is even in the kindergarten beginning to be supplanted 
 by social pressure. The desire to be approved must be evoked 
 in order to insure whatever of sustained effort this early stage 
 of culture demands. Coercion has, it is true, been in evidence 
 from much earlier in the child's life. It has, however, been 
 directed rather toward negative than positive results, to 
 prevent the child from doing undesirable things, rather than 
 to keep him at tasks. The pressure of social standards driv- 
 ing them to labor is with most children to-day first felt in the 
 influence of the schoolmaster. 
 
 The appeal to the child's desire to get on well with others, 
 which may be briefly designated as social pressure, is the
 
 Play 
 
 413 
 
 "working" motive of the school. When all other motives 
 fail to reach the pupil, this is trusted as a never failing resource. 
 To it the master resorts in order to bridge over the transition 
 between a period when a certain motive is on the decline, and 
 one when another motive is strongly felt. It serves as an 
 introduction to subjects the utility of which the child is as yet 
 unable to feel. It keeps the child at work when his own pleas- 
 ure or his judgment of the value of what he is doing begins 
 to lose its stimulating power. It is not only the "working" 
 motive but, indeed, as many have felt, a sadly overworked 
 one 
 
 Social pressure is, perhaps, the most powerful force in adult 
 life, and it is well that the child should become acquainted 
 with it early in his school career. It is probable that the kin- 
 dergarten child is not too young to be driven to work by it. 
 Throughout that age of rivalry in which the games of individual 
 contest appeal most strongly, social pressure, as embodied in 
 the will of teacher and supported by that of the parents, is the 
 natural and effective force that supplements the interest in 
 play. There comes a time, however, when with many, if 
 not with most, children school work must be justified by other 
 reasons than by the fact that success therein is the only road 
 to the favor of those in authority over them. The causes 
 for this change in attitude are many. Since a large number 
 of children are not especially successful in their school occupa- 
 tions, they do not find them an avenue to a social distinction 
 that seems worth while. They get used to being commonplace 
 or to failing, and the social pressure that is continually directed 
 toward making them do better loses its sting. Again, the 
 children in their wider intercourse with schoolfellows and with 
 society outside the school come to realize other forms of 
 social pressure besides that emanating from the teacher. 
 To be successful and admired among certain groups of children, 
 
 (2) Social 
 pressure as 
 the "work- 
 ing" mo- 
 tive 
 
 Rebellion of 
 the ado- 
 lescent 
 against 
 school co- 
 ercion
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (3) Need of 
 an utilita- 
 rian de- 
 fense of 
 school 
 work 
 
 and even of older people, the boy or girl finds that clever 
 evasion or an open disregard of the will of the teacher is the 
 surest method. Parents and teacher often differ as to what 
 sort of conduct is desirable, what should be studied, and how 
 much effort should be put forth. Most important of all, 
 a developing realization of the larger life, for which school is 
 supposed to constitute a preparation, causes the child to ques- 
 tion the values of what he is required to learn. 
 
 The period at which the girl or boy begins to reflect upon the 
 relation of the school work to that sort of life which he or she 
 admires is the most critical epoch in the course of education, 
 so far as motivation is concerned. If the earliest period in 
 culture can be trusted largely to play, and the middle period 
 largely to social pressure, the onset of adolescence makes 
 necessary a sound and complete defense of school studies on the 
 ground of utility. It is here that most children tend to drop 
 out of school, and, unquestionably, not solely because of pov- 
 erty, but very largely because the work that is offered them in 
 school does not suit their capacities and needs. To children 
 who cannot get on in school, its training must inevitably seem 
 of little value, but those who can succeed in the course of study 
 are not infrequently found to be discontented with it on the 
 score of its utility. That the adolescent should question the 
 value of what he is asked to do is an eminently healthy attitude. 
 It is unfortunate for him if he do not feel that what he is learn- 
 ing should lead somewhere in the great world of adult activity, 
 and if he be not disposed to call into account whatever he is 
 directed to study from the point of view of its ultimate value. 
 Only through such criticism can he escape mere passive depend- 
 ence upon the standards and the awards of certain authorita- 
 tive persons and rise to real freedom. Many cases of success 
 in school and failure in life, or of the reverse, are, doubtless, 
 due to the fact that in the former environment submissiveness
 
 Play 415 
 
 is, on the whole, a valuable quality, whereas in the latter a 
 premium is placed on independent enterprise. 
 
 The motive of study that appears in pure love of learning or (4) The aca- 
 of skill may be called the academic motive. The play motive "teacher's" 
 is primarily the child's motive, social pressure is the "working" motive 
 motive, utility the worldly or universal motive, but the aca- 
 demic motive is the one most beloved by the teacher. It may 
 with justice be called the "teacher's" motive, for men and 
 women whose lives are spent in investigating or transmitting 
 truth are apt to value that which it is their main concern to give 
 as worth while in itself. To the teacher learning is usually 
 first, and its application a secondary affair. In endeavoring 
 to respond to the challenge of the world he may seek out an 
 utility for the learning that he transmits, and he may bow 
 to the inevitable and limit himself to teaching the world the 
 useful, because instruction in that alone will yield a living, but 
 always he feels and strives to make his pupils feel a pure love 
 of knowledge or of beauty, which is after all in his estimation 
 the highest motive to which his profession can appeal. 
 
 It is to be noticed that the academic motive is a real force Force of the 
 with many children, especially with those who succeed well 
 in study. One comes to love what he can do well. Many 
 children pass easily from the stage of learning under social 
 pressure to a stage of absorption in learning or in artistic 
 creation without reference especially to the distinctions that 
 can be won through such pursuits. An omniverous appetite 
 for knowledge in any or all fields seizes the adolescent. A holy 
 devotion to the pure ideals of art, that makes one idealize 
 poverty incurred in their service, is common enough an attitude 
 to the youth as well as to the man. 
 
 The academic motive is founded on instinct. The instinct its relation to 
 of curiosity which constitutes so fundamental an agency in ptay 
 driving us to accumulate experience for future emergencies
 
 416 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Possible in- 
 terference 
 of the aca- 
 demic mo- 
 tive with 
 efficiency 
 
 lies back of the scholar's love of learning. We may add to 
 this the mere fondness for activity, physical and mental, 
 which is so prominent in the earliest games of children, and 
 that love of harmony which appears as soon as the child's 
 imagination begins to waken. Thus the teacher does not need 
 to manufacture the academic tastes, for they grow out of the 
 simplest factors in the nature of the growing mind. In fact, 
 the academic motive is the one most definitely continuous 
 with the play motive, and most intimately related to it through- 
 out life. Both involve the love of activity for its own sake, and, 
 although the academic motive can with its devotees coerce labor 
 quite as effectually as any other, it is yet by the world at large as- 
 sociated more closely with the freedom of doing what one wants 
 to do than with the necessity of doing what must be done. 
 
 Thus the academic motive need not wait until the child 
 becomes an expert in any field. It may be gradually nourished, 
 and it is to be hoped of every child that he will grow from the 
 simple curiosity and love of harmony of his earlier years into 
 a catholic interest in the knowledge and the art that have 
 come to us from the ages. On the other hand, when the time 
 comes for the youth to begin to look toward a vocation, it is 
 unfortunate for him if his love of the ideal pursuit of learning 
 or of art obscures completely a sense of the utilities of life. 
 The teacher's motive may do its work too well. It may be 
 the parent of a devotion to other dreams than that of service, 
 and so, instead of stimulating, it may paralyze efficiency. 
 Herein lies the justification of that complaint so often made 
 by the man of the world against the school, that instead of 
 preparing it unfits for life. Herein also lies the cause of so 
 much discontent with the school on the part of the children 
 who feel the call of the world, for to their insistent utilitarian- 
 ism it responds with an academic attitude which is as a stone 
 to one asking for bread.
 
 Play 417 
 
 We may sum up this discussion of the love of play as a Summary 
 school motive by reiterating that play, as ordinarily conceived, 
 is incapable of giving the spirit of work and of holding the child 
 to such tasks as are necessary in order to acquire the knowledge 
 and the skill requisite either for the standard liberal culture 
 of to-day or for any skilled vocation or profession. Hence, 
 as the child grows older, coercion must appear and be felt. 
 The coercive motives that lead to work are social pressure and 
 utility. The former is easily applied when the school atmos- 
 phere is such as to give to the teacher authority. It fails, 
 however, as the child grows out of the age of rivalry into that 
 of independence. At this juncture it is necessary that it 
 should grow into and be supplemented by either the utilitarian 
 or the academic motive. It is well if the transition from social 
 pressure into these be so cleverly continued that the child 
 never feels the constraint of the school to have been arbitrary. 
 What teachers have approved drifts insensibly into that which 
 is seen to be rationally best, because it suits the necessities of 
 the larger life of the world or of the youth's inner nature. 
 
 Meantime, the play of the younger child should not have 
 disappeared out of the education of the older one. As lacking 
 in the deadly earnestness of the work of the school, it should 
 come to be felt as subsidiary, yet none the less it remains, 
 from the point of view of life as a whole, an element of prime 
 importance. Here the social, the aesthetic, and the intellec- 
 tual interests can thrive in the most stimulating atmosphere. 
 Here the academic motive can grow strong by the mutual 
 support of those who entertain it. The play life of the school 
 is its life of free individuality, and from free individuality 
 springs all devotion to ideals. 
 
 2E
 
 418 Principles of Education 
 
 (2) The organization of play as an educational factor 
 
 importance It is important to realize the limitations of play as a sub- 
 stitute for the difficult tasks of education in order that the way 
 
 educational ma y k e opened for a clearer apprehension of the desirability 
 on the part of the school of a more elaborate organization than 
 at present exists of the genuine play of childhood and ado- 
 lescence. The discussion of this subject may be broken into 
 two parts. First, we may consider the educational value of 
 this genuine play as contrasted with the work, which with the 
 growth of a sense of responsibility in the child constantly be- 
 comes more absorbing. Second, it is an open question to 
 what extent the school can profitably take a hand in the 
 organization and control of play activities. 
 Contrasting When we compare the educational results of play and work, 
 
 ethical and . , , . . . 
 
 social quai- we notice that the former is more effective in two particulars. 
 ities cuiti- it cultivates certain social qualities, certain ethical virtues, far 
 
 vated by 
 
 play and more effectively than does work, and it is especially valuable 
 as a means of stimulating that rational attitude which we 
 have called originality, or initiative. The virtues that play 
 calls into activity are especially such as involve familiarity 
 with the feelings and attitudes of others and the power of 
 adaptation to social situations. Courage and confidence, tact 
 and consideration, ability to cooperate, and a sense of the power 
 that comes from this source, leadership, loyalty, and altru- 
 ism, all find in the intercourse of the game, or of such activ- 
 ity as may be classified as play, favorable opportunity for 
 development. On the other hand, the virtues that work cul- 
 tivates are especially obedience, patience, perseverance, and 
 industry. Finally, the contrast between work and play devel- 
 ops the sense of relative values upon which it is founded. 
 
 It is not meant that either play or work cultivates one set of 
 virtues to the exclusion of the others, but that each furnishes
 
 Play 419 
 
 the most effective environment to cause certain traits to flour- 
 ish. The especial value of play as a basis of social culture arises 
 from the fact that games depend so largely upon the social 
 instinct for their interest, and partly from the great variety 
 of social situations that the freedom of the game permits 
 and fosters. In work the social attitudes are as a rule more 
 restricted and permanent in character. In play they vary 
 with surprising rapidity. If one fails to excel in one sport, 
 he may try another. In the revolutions of position that the 
 fortunes of one game or the shifting from one game to another 
 involve, each usually finds himself with an opportunity to 
 display whatever social talent he possesses. Moreover, the 
 group games depend upon the cooperation of the individuals 
 who take part. If one leads, it is because the others are willing 
 to follow. If all are not content with the rules and the con- 
 ditions of the sport, it cannot succeed. The game is demo- 
 cratic, and affords an opportunity to the individual to exercise 
 such a variety of powers and functions as to give great social 
 adaptability. 
 
 The same freedom that makes the game so serviceable for Play and the 
 the cultivation of social skill renders it valuable as a means of 
 
 resouree- 
 
 developing originality. Here, doubtless, we find the reason fulness 
 for whatever truth there is in the proverb, "All work and no 
 play makes Jack a dull boy." In play new situations arise 
 with great frequency. The democracy of the social relation- 
 ship gives each one a chance to show what he can do, and often 
 such chances will be taken with great gain in confidence. 
 Thus the habit of casting about among one's resources for a 
 solution to a difficulty is cultivated. It must be noted, how- 
 ever, that many children get into the habit of relying on 
 others for these solutions, and that the cooperative character 
 of the game renders such an attitude quite easy to assume. 
 Nevertheless, the game is probably not so likely to cultivate
 
 420 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 lemfor 
 po s s e pui 
 
 passivity and subserviency as work, just because the latter 
 is a matter of coercion while the former is free. The variety of 
 social changes that play presents can scarcely fail to thrust 
 upon the attention of each individual the advantages of 
 independence and resourcefulness. If he does not develop 
 these qualities, it is not for want of an opportunity, but be- 
 cause he does not possess them. Work, on the contrary, is apt 
 to cultivate the tendency to imitate and to obey, to control 
 one's self in the service of a rule and a standard that comes 
 from without. Only when through the skill of the teacher it 
 takes the form of problems, does it directly aim to lead the 
 child to be original. When this is done, the insistent character 
 of the situation gives it an advantage over play. If the play- 
 ing child does not rise to the situation, he may satisfy him- 
 self by regarding the whole matter as of no importance. The 
 general seriousness of work tends to remove the possibility of 
 this attitude. On the other hand, play makes up for its 
 feebleness in coercion by the abundance and variety of the 
 situations that it offers. 
 
 Absence of If it be granted that the activities of play afford a special 
 democratic opportunity for the development of social adaptability and 
 education resourcefulness, it is plain that the schools of a democracy can- 
 not afford to neglect them. At present, however, the em- 
 phasis tends in the other direction. The nineteenth century, 
 with its popular systems of education, may be said to have prac- 
 tically solved the problem of literacy for the masses in the pro- 
 gressive nations. But universal education has meant a school 
 for those whose lot in life is not leadership nor leisure, but 
 breadwinning, usually by methods involving much manual toil. 
 Having solved the preliminary problem of literacy, education 
 is now turning more and more to that of cultivating vocational 
 efficiency. It is natural, therefore, that the school, particu- 
 larly the free school, should be infused with the spirit of toil,
 
 Play 42 1 
 
 and that, in the endeavor to hold the children who are so apt 
 to leave as soon as the law permits, it should be striving to 
 appeal especially to the sense of utility in them and their 
 parents. 
 
 But while, on the one hand, modern conditions have tended Especial need 
 to universalize the demand for vocational education, they forits 
 
 * presence 
 
 have also, on the other, created a need for the liberalizing 
 forms of culture in the emancipated masses. The problem of 
 the relation between liberal and vocational education will be 
 attacked later, but it is in place here to note the importance 
 in the new scheme of universal education of activities which 
 are essentially forms of play. For such activities have been 
 found to be peculiarly fitted to cultivate social resourcefulness 
 and efficiency, qualities especially necessary in a democracy, 
 where the individual is not bound to the status of birth, but is 
 thrown on his own responsibility to find the place that his 
 talents and his energy entitle him to occupy. To lead when 
 leadership is one's appropriate function, to follow without 
 subserviency when others are from talents or fortune put in 
 position to control, to be always ready to utilize one's re- 
 sources when the opportunity comes, these are qualities that 
 are especially valuable in the life of a democracy, and they 
 are qualities that are nowhere better cultivated than in the 
 game. Hence this phase of the life of the child, crowded out 
 of the curriculum on account of its apparent lack of utility, 
 should again find entrance because of its relation to that 
 social flexibility which has become so necessary for all. 
 
 Among the phases of this modern endeavor to utilize play Modem en- 
 may be mentioned the development of gymnasiums and 
 school playgrounds, the appearance of teachers of physical educational 
 culture and directors of athletics, the encouragement and 
 growth of systems of student self-government, the fostering of 
 all sorts of subsidiary student enterprises, as newspapers and
 
 422 Principles of Education 
 
 periodicals, religious, literary, scientific, and social clubs, the 
 establishment of recreation centers, such movements as that 
 of the Young Men's Christian Association, involving a variety 
 of physical and mental sports together with educational fea- 
 tures in addition to religion, the development of school ex- 
 cursions and summer camps, and the reorganization of ele- 
 mentary education so that social activity, much of which is 
 play, may be made more prominent, as has been attempted 
 Need of adult in the Experimental School at Chicago. In all these develop- 
 ments the principle that play, in order to produce its best 
 results, needs a large measure of adult encouragement and 
 even adult organization and control is illustrated. The child 
 needs to be taught to play as well as to work. Gymnasiums 
 without instructors lie unused. School playgrounds with- 
 out directors become the scene of mere random intercourse, 
 such as scuffling and rowdyism. If such things are true of 
 apparatus and provision for physical sports, much more true 
 is it that mental games require assistance from the instructor. 
 Children teach each other to play, but beyond a certain point 
 all progress in the game depends upon adult interest and in- 
 fluence. The game does not evolve into a better instrument 
 for education unless such adult influences are brought to bear 
 upon it. Of course, this need of the support and advice of 
 elders becomes less important as the child grows older. How- 
 ever, even the games of adults need careful watching lest 
 pastime prove mere waste time, or, worse, time for degenera- 
 tion. 
 
 This supervision on the part of the school will, doubtless, 
 as time goes on become increasingly important. As a nation 
 we shall be taught how to play as well as how to work. By 
 wise control many institutions of school life that are com- 
 monly regarded as objectionable may be utilized. The fra- 
 ternity is an example. Unregulated, it is often a school of
 
 Play 423 
 
 snobbishness, of idleness, of dissipation. On the other hand, 
 it can be made a source of social culture and of inspiration 
 scarcely less valuable than the regular studies of the cur- 
 riculum. If the former objectionable features can be warded 
 off, a great agency for education is saved. The "let alone" 
 policy here, as with other playful activities, is not the only 
 alternative to complete suppression. There are methods 
 of regulation that do not destroy the essentials of control by 
 the students. These methods have not been perfected, 
 indeed, very few have even been tried. It is a safe prophecy 
 that, when the school authorities come fully to realize the im- 
 portance of these student activities, they will not find the 
 problem of regulation insurmountable. For it is not the im- 
 possibility of regulating play while preserving its playfulness 
 that constitutes the fundamental difficulty. It is rather the 
 failure on the part of the school to recognize the value in edu- 
 cation of anything aside from its prescribed curriculum. 
 
 Four practical consequences of the assumption of respon- Practical 
 sible control over play by the school may be distinguished, 
 
 These are: (i) the lengthening of the school day; (2) far anade- 
 
 11 11 i r i i quate use 
 
 more elaborate development and supervision of playground O f p i ay i n 
 activities, club life, and pupil organizations of all sorts ; education 
 (3) the correlation of these play activities with the work of the 
 school ; (4) the growth of the school into the intellectual and 
 social center of the community, by enlisting the cooperation 
 of parents in the play activities, with a consequent transforma- 
 tion of the avocations and of the social and political activities 
 of the adults in the school environment. 
 
 (i) The city school seems to be drifting in two directions; (i) Super- 
 
 toward a shortening of the program of study and recitation, d a P ' 
 and toward the establishment of supervision over recreation. lon s er 
 
 . school day 
 
 The growing conviction that children are kept at their tasks 
 much longer than is necessary to accomplish the desired
 
 424 Principles of Education 
 
 results and that time is wasted in constraint without achieve- 
 ment might easily result in a much shorter school day, were 
 it not for the problem of the occupation of the children for 
 the rest of the time. On the farm this would have been an 
 easy task. In the city of to-day it is quite a different matter. 
 The advocate of the niggardly policy in the support of the 
 schools might welcome the shortening of the working day, 
 if he were not at the same time > facing an inevitable increase 
 in the expense of supervising the playground activity. Such 
 additional expense we may confidently expect, not only in the 
 city but in the country. For while the city needs supervised 
 play to keep the children from degenerate social intercourse, 
 the country needs it to supply a deficiency in social life. The 
 character of the play activities as well as the hours that are de- 
 voted to them might well vary according to the character of 
 the community, but that great movement for the utilization 
 of play which is rapidly sweeping over the cities must inevi- 
 tably affect the country school as well. 
 
 (2) Expan- (2) The play life of the school should aim at all the leisure 
 
 program the interests of life. There should be organizations for athletics, 
 
 of play social companionship, literary and artistic enjoyment and 
 
 creation, the drama, intellectual investigations, excursions and 
 
 travel, self-government, and political and social betterment. 
 
 Transfer of Such organizations would inevitably trench considerably on 
 
 studies to the work done in the regular curriculum of the school of to- 
 
 thepiay d This regult is t be we i come( j. If the work of the 
 
 program * 
 
 school belongs to the play of life, it is not properly placed in 
 the curriculum. A very large portion of the literary and ar- 
 tistic study of the school is most clearly better suited to what 
 may be called its play life, and could be more effectively cul- 
 tivated therein. The same thing may be said of much of the 
 history, science, and mathematics. The control of such work 
 can probably be most effectively intrusted to pupil organiza-
 
 Play 425 
 
 tions over which the teachers exercise a more indirect control 
 than over the tasks of the schoolroom. In this way some 
 pupils may learn less science or history or literature, but many, 
 if not most, will learn far more than they do to-day. 
 
 (3) The play life of the school will lead into the avocations (3) Motiva- 
 of the man. But it is what man does aside from his vocation 
 
 that determines the tastes, the needs, the standards of life of work 
 the community. These standards, as we noted in discussing relation to 
 the general theory of play, create the vocations. So. too, in the play 
 
 program 
 
 the school, the play life may be trusted to create demands that 
 will motivate the work done in the classroom. Thus the cur- 
 riculum may be made to have a double utility to the child. 
 On the one hand, it may bear directly upon the adult vocation 
 toward which he is eagerly or anxiously looking ; on the other, 
 it may be correlated with the avocations which absorb con- 
 tinuous interest. When these avocations are lifted into im- 
 portance by careful organization and supervision, they may 
 become a far more stimulating source of motive than is avail- 
 able to the schoolmaster to-day. 
 
 (4) If there is any activity in which adult and child meet (4) The play 
 on common ground, it is that of play. The school cannot 
 
 engage the inspection nor even the interest of parents in any center of 
 
 community 
 
 exercises so well as in those show performances that are not uf c 
 its work, but only its sport. The adult cannot be expected 
 to go to school to work. He can easily be led to go there to 
 play. The proper development of this phase of school life 
 would mean the creation of a social center to which the child 
 who has left school and entered his vocation might continue 
 to resort. In its activities the adults of the community 
 might be led to take part. Thus both in the country and in 
 the city the school might become the intellectual and social 
 center of the community, and give that unifying spirit and 
 that comprehensive interest in all phases of life which the
 
 426 Principles of Education 
 
 churches, on account of denominational strife and exclusive 
 interest in spiritual salvation, have often failed to render. 
 Such participation on the part of the adults in the avocations 
 of the school would make it possible for education to affect 
 the inner tastes and standards of the community, and thus 
 to control the social conditions from whence arise the demands 
 that it exists to supply. Instead of trusting passively that 
 its graduates shall carry out its ideals in a strange and hostile 
 environment, it might retain its grip upon them. Certainly 
 one step in the process of making the school like life is that of 
 making life like the school.
 
 PART III 
 
 THE EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 ANALYSIS OF THE EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 
 
 SECTION 47. The educational institutions 
 
 THE educational agencies may be classified into the edu- Social fosti- 
 
 cational institutions and the educational materials, or the [he^curf 1 " 
 
 course of study. Both of these are properly to be regarded as ricuium as 
 agencies, or active forces in education ; for while we may 
 
 naturally think of the curriculum as being passively taught, 
 in contrast with the institutions, like the family and the school, 
 which actively teach, nevertheless, a more careful analysis will 
 show that both agencies are essentially the same in function. 
 They are both directive forces in education, and they make 
 up that educational environment into conformity with which 
 it is the function of the educational process to bring the body 
 and the mind of the individual. 
 
 In truth, an institution might, without any departure from The institu- 
 essential fact, be called a course of study. It consists in a 
 group of standard forms of conduct through which society per- 
 forms one great function, or, perhaps, several associated ones. 
 Originally, the curriculum of a normal education consisted in 
 simply learning how to live in conformity to the prevailing 
 institutions. Social heredity clustered about social organiza- 
 tion, and the child was educated only by a sort of apprentice- 
 ship in the social life of the adult. The course of study, as dis- Rise of the 
 tinct from institutional life, originates in the separation of some 
 habits and ideas such as the primitive child learns by merely 
 taking part in the ordinary life about him, and their incor- 
 poration in a compact form in the instruction and practice of 
 
 429
 
 430 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The family 
 and the 
 school as 
 especially 
 devoted to 
 education 
 
 Part of the 
 church, the 
 state, and 
 the voca- 
 tion in edu- 
 cation 
 
 a special phase of life, that of the school. This curriculum 
 has been enormously expanded until it has seemed to include 
 very much that has little, if anything, to do with the actual 
 practices of institutional life. However, this does not vitiate 
 the fundamental proposition that the course of study in the 
 largest sense is the material of social heredity, while an insti- 
 tution consists of a special body of this material of habits 
 and ideas in active operation among the individuals of a group 
 to fulfill one of the great functions of society. 
 
 It follows that all the institutions of society are educative. 
 They consist of practices which the child observes, imitates, and 
 eventually embodies into the groundwork of his own conduct. 
 Some institutions, however, since they have most to do with 
 the child, are especially concerned in education. These are, 
 of course, the family and the school. The latter arises in the 
 course of that differentiation of functions in society by which 
 the various institutions are separated, and, since it is con- 
 cerned solely in the function of education, it gradually absorbs 
 more and more the educative function of the others. 
 
 Incidentally, the state, the vocation, and especially the 
 church are concerned quite extensively in the work of educa- 
 tion. The religious institution must of necessity devote 
 itself largely to an endeavor to mold the attitudes and be- 
 liefs of the individual. It must aim to stir up the religious 
 ideas, feelings, and habits in the young, and to keep them alive 
 in the adult. Hence the church has always insisted on its 
 paramount right in the control of education, and has frequently 
 been successful in its claim, so successful as to absorb into 
 itself a very large, part of the work of teaching. The problems 
 that have arisen because of the identity of interest between 
 the church and the school are many, and a few of them will be 
 touched upon later. The state has been intimately concerned 
 with the religious control of education, and in modern times
 
 Analysis of the Educational Agencies 431 
 
 its interference has had much to do with the separation of 
 the school from the domination of church or family. The 
 vocation has been very closely associated with family life. 
 Children have tended to follow the vocations of their parents, 
 and they have been wont to receive their vocational training 
 in connection with the rest of the culture that is peculiar to 
 the family relationship. However, just as church and state 
 have broken loose from the family and instituted a special 
 type of culture independent of family control, so the vocation 
 has asserted itself and set up its own educational system, 
 usually one of apprenticeship, which is dominated by the mem- 
 bers of the vocation without reference to family connections. 
 
 Although the family springs into existence as a means of Reason for 
 fostering the young, it does not at first assume consciously 
 the function of training them. Nevertheless, fosterage exists, 
 
 as we have seen, primarily for the sake of education, and the family 
 interest that it involves leads inevitably into that activity. 
 By the time this has taken place, and especially before any 
 serious attempts have been made at conscious education, the 
 family has assumed a number of other functions. It has, in 
 many cases, been the unit in political or religious organization, 
 and it remains to-day to a considerable degree an industrial 
 unit, illustrating within itself the division of labor. More- 
 over, up to modern times this unit has been nearly, if not quite, 
 industrially independent. Possessing all these phases of ac- 
 tivity, it is evident that the family could well perform them 
 only in very primitive social conditions. As for education, 
 the parents have, as a rule, neither the leisure nor the breadth 
 of knowledge or of skill to teach a social heritage not readily 
 illustrated in the common activities of the home. Even home 
 affairs involve phases that require too much special attention 
 for the ordinary household to care for them with much success. 
 Thus the interests of the child demand that the family shall
 
 432 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Assumption 
 of control 
 over the 
 school by 
 the state. 
 Resulting 
 advan- 
 tages 
 
 Position of 
 the school 
 not yet 
 clearly es- 
 tablished ' 
 
 give up part at least of its educational work and transfer this 
 to the school. If this were all, the school would have remained 
 under the control of the family, as, indeed, it is to a consider- 
 able extent even to-day. But wherever the family is not 
 identical with the state, the value of education as a means 
 of social control leads the regnant social institution to assume 
 the supervision of an activity which must be under its sway 
 if its power and prestige is to be maintained. Ultimately, 
 this transference of the educative function from the family to 
 agencies at once more special in function and general in con- 
 trol redounds to the interest of the individual. The stages in 
 this transition are, however, not all marked by attention or 
 service to this interest, and even to-day the question of that 
 assignment of authority in educational matters which insures 
 the greatest benefit both to the individual and to the commu- 
 nity is a matter of debate. 
 
 The school is the latest of the great social institutions to 
 become differentiated. Indeed, this process is by no means 
 complete, and we are even to-day witnessing in the changes 
 occurring before our eyes the growth of independent maturity. 
 In a sense, one may say that this growth has reached adoles- 
 cence, an age when fantastic notions of the need of independ- 
 ence and of the rights of self are rife, to develop later into a 
 saner judgment that recognizes the importance of interdepend- 
 ence and of service. The issues clustering about the question 
 of the position of this newly differentiated social institution 
 in reference to the others will receive somewhat more minute 
 treatment in the following chapter. In the present one, we'may 
 note that in the last century the school has advanced into a 
 position of such relative importance as to take its stand be- 
 side the family, the church, and even the state, as one of the 
 fundamental institutions of society. Thus the educative func- 
 tion, so primitive as to be the most important original cause
 
 Analysis of the Educational Agencies 433 
 
 of the evolution of society, 1 and so fundamental that through- 
 out the ages it may be said to have constituted the chief service 
 of society to man, has come at last to such clear recognition 
 that it is intrusted to an institution the sole function of which 
 is to see that it is properly performed. 
 
 The differentiation of the school and its assumption of the 
 general control over social heredity means that society has 
 come deliberately to undertake the task of improving itself 
 through bettering its education. This advance, although not 
 so revolutionary as that earlier transition by which social 
 heredity came to supplement physiological heredity, and 
 largely to take its place, as the bearer of those qualities hi 
 respect to which rapid progress may be expected, 2 is, never- 
 theless, a phase of the most important step in social evolution 
 since that time. For it indicates a clear recognition of the 
 method of evolution by the selection of institutions rather than 
 by the selection of men. When this conception comes clearly 
 to consciousness, that ideal education which looks toward 
 the future, or, in other terms, that rational education which 
 has the paradoxical aim of preparing for the unexpected rises 
 to supplement and, indeed, in some measure to supplant the 
 recapitulatory education that has dominated through the ages 
 of human history. Education, always for the individual a 
 source of change and, we may assume, progress, becomes with 
 the development of recapitulatory education also an agency 
 making for social conservatism, quiescence. When, how- 
 ever, ideal or rational education becomes plainly defined, and 
 especially when society becomes so clearly conscious of its 
 value as to differentiate the school in order that it may assume 
 control over this function, we may say that education has 
 assumed for the race that guardianship of progress which it 
 has always exercised for the individual. 
 
 1 Compare 12. * Compare 8. 
 
 2F 
 
 Coincidence 
 of the com- 
 plete dif- 
 ferentia- 
 tion of the 
 school and 
 the rise of 
 rational 
 education
 
 434 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Leading 
 issues in 
 regard to 
 the curricu- 
 lum 
 
 Distinction 
 between 
 academic 
 and prac- 
 tical sub- 
 jects 
 
 Distinction 
 between 
 liberal and 
 vocational 
 subjects 
 
 SECTION 48. The educational materials 
 
 Among the many possible classifications of the educational 
 materials, the aim of this discussion will be to select those 
 which are suggestive of the most important problems to-day. 
 Such classifications have, however, an historic significance, 
 which must be considered, since it has a bearing on their pres- 
 ent interpretation. Four distinctions in subject matter may 
 be chosen as embodying the most fundamental educational 
 issues. These are (i) the humanities contrasted with the 
 sciences; (2) the disciplinary contrasted with the content sub- 
 jects; (3) the distinction of academic from practical subjects; 
 and (4) of liberal from vocational studies. 
 
 Of these distinctions the two latter will be chosen for most 
 extended discussion, and a chapter devoted to each. By 
 academic subjects are meant those pursued merely for the 
 sake of knowledge or of aesthetic gratification without direct 
 reference to the use of the knowledge or of the art in furthering 
 specific practical ends. We have science for science's sake 
 and "art for art's sake." The one appeals merely to the in- 
 tellect, the other to the emotions and the taste. On the 
 other hand, both may be treated as merely instrumental to 
 the effectiveness of will and thus be converted into practical 
 subjects. 
 
 The distinction between liberal and vocational studies is one 
 that seems evident on its face. However, the word " liberal" 
 has been used in so many senses and the conception of the 
 vocation has been so broadened that careful definition is nec- 
 essary to get a norm to which to refer variations. In general, 
 by liberal studies we shall mean those that prepare for leader- 
 ship and leisure, and by vocational ones those that are pursued 
 because they contribute to the making of a living. If we re- 
 gard leadership as a vocation, the aims are not mutually ex-
 
 Analysis of the Educational Agencies 435 
 
 elusive. Moreover, as the vocations have become more and 
 more rationalized and made scientific, what has historically 
 been regarded as having value merely as liberal study the 
 present generation has found to contribute to vocational 
 efficiency. Hence, frequently the same subject matter may 
 be regarded as either liberal or vocational or both. The his- 
 torical interrelations of these two kinds of subjects have been 
 very suggestive, and their proper status may be said to be still 
 a matter of dispute. 
 
 We may note in this introductory statement the association 
 of liberal culture with aristocratic life. The word "liberal" 
 means, of course, pertaining to freemen, but the freeman 
 among the ancients was a member of the governing class, i.e. 
 an aristocrat. So, too, at the Renaissance the classic ideal of 
 liberal culture was taken up by an aristocracy and interpreted, 
 as formerly, from the point of view of the interests of such a 
 class. This culture was calculated, as our definition indi- 
 cates, to contribute to the noble and free enjoyment of leisure 
 and to the ability to govern men. It was not yet thought to 
 require any superior skill to serve them. Vocational training 
 was despised as the training of a servile class. Gradually, 
 however, the thought of service has been ennobled. First, it 
 became recognized as possessing moral quality of the highest 
 value, and then, as it grew to be more scientific, this gain in 
 intellectual character completed its title to respect. The 
 final step in the evolution is attained when the function of 
 public control becomes itself recognized as a service and, 
 indeed, as a vocation to be rewarded according to the value 
 of the service to the community. 
 
 Important as the distinctions between the humanities and 
 the sciences is and has been, the questions that it involves are 
 rather of historic than of modern interest. At the time of the 
 Renaissance humanism was a reaction against spiritualism. It 
 
 Liberal cul- 
 ture as 
 peculiar to 
 an aris- 
 tocracy. 
 Rise of 
 education 
 for service 
 
 Disappear- 
 ance of the 
 struggle 
 between 
 the human- 
 ities and
 
 436 Principles of Education 
 
 represented devotion to the things pertaining to the present 
 world of man rather than to those of the future life with God. 
 Literature and history, art and travel, even science itself, were 
 from this point of view regarded as humane studies. When, 
 however, the humanistic schools, in their endeavor to give their 
 pupils a mastery of the classical culture, degenerated into mere 
 teachers of dead languages, the reaction known as realism 
 made its appearance. Realism is not a protest against human- 
 ism as the study of humanity, but rather against humanism as 
 linguistic. Its motto is "things rather than words," and es- 
 pecially "things before words." Thus the sciences, con- 
 ceived as the study of things, came to be opposed to the human- 
 ities. But the study of human nature or of social life, or of 
 history or literature or of art itself may be scientific, indeed, 
 quite as scientific as the study of physical nature. The rec- 
 ognition of this fact has gone far toward rendering the dis- 
 tinction between science and the humanities of less impor- 
 tance than it was. 
 
 The humani- One other interesting aspect of this distinction remains. 
 earliest* 116 Frequently in earlier sections 1 the point has been made that 
 studies to mankind first directed his intellectual efforts to the mastery 
 effidency f social processes, leaving physical nature to be dealt with by 
 methods to the devising of which the higher activities of intel- 
 ligence were not persistently applied. Success has, in general, 
 been attained far more easily by the management of men 
 inferior in mind and will than by the attempt to control nature 
 effectively. Even where advances in power over the physical 
 world have been made by scientific insight, the advantages 
 that came from them were as a rule exploited by the social 
 overlords, very much as to-day the inventor is apt to serve the 
 material interests of his business manager rather than his own. 
 In consequence, education and intellectual progress for the 
 
 1 Compare 14.
 
 Analysis of the Educational Agencies 437 
 
 ambitious and the intelligent, or what is the same thing, for 
 the privileged class, the aristocracy, has tended to be in the 
 humanities rather than in the physical sciences. The science 
 and art of social control far outran physical science and inven- 
 tion. Although not presenting their lessons in methodical 
 form, the literature, art, history, travel, court life, etc., by which 
 the aristocrat received his education, were replete with practical 
 suggestions as to how best to live in order to carry out the tradi- 
 tions of his stock. Thus the humanities were in essence social 
 science, and this was the science of the privileged class. Mod- 
 ern physical science for centuries after it appeared had not 
 made many inroads into the field of practice, and could not 
 compare with the traditional humane culture as a source of 
 efficiency to any class, especially to an aristocracy. 
 
 It is seen that the issue of the humanities versus the sciences 
 links itself with that of liberal versus vocational education, 
 and also to some extent with that of the relation between 
 academic and practical subjects. The question will, therefore, 
 be resumed as a phase of the future treatment of these latter 
 topics. The issue of disciplinary versus content subjects 
 is similarly interconnected with these other problems. We 
 have already considered the history of this question, 1 but it 
 may be worth while to note the alliance between disciplinary Reasons for 
 study and both aristocratic and academic education. en ^y ^ 
 
 Three reasons may be offered for the tendency for aristocratic aristocratic 
 
 education 
 
 education to become disciplinary. In the first place, the to become 
 
 social training in aristocratic schools is so largely dependent ^ lpUr 
 
 upon the general forms of intercourse which there prevail that (l) Minor 5m- 
 
 the curriculum tends to be regarded as of minor importance p ^ )r ^ ice 
 
 both by the pupils and the community. What really counts curriculum 
 
 is that the children should learn how to behave with their J." a a t " c st( 
 
 peers, how to get on with them, to be imbued with their spirit schools; 
 
 1 Compare 32.
 
 438 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (2) natural 
 association 
 of aristo- 
 cratic cul- 
 ture with 
 severity; 
 
 andjdeals, and to be capable of assuming, in consequence, a 
 position of leadership. Thus the child went to the great 
 English Public School, not primarily to become a master of 
 the classical languages, but rather to be trained into an English 
 gentleman. Under these conditions a curriculum the content 
 value of which it would have been hard to defend was, never- 
 theless, tolerated, partly because it was not regarded as the 
 main thing, partly because it had prestige, and partly because 
 aristocracies are so conservative that they dislike to part with 
 anything sanctioned by tradition. Indeed, they found some 
 value in the ability to use the ancient tongues, in that such a 
 power was the mark of an aristocrat, a badge to be acquired 
 only by the select. On the other hand, the schoolmasters 
 themselves, who could not be content with the view that the 
 curriculum was comparatively unimportant, or useful mainly 
 because fashionable, urged its disciplinary value, and taught 
 it largely with that end in view. 
 
 A second reason for the alliance of liberal and disciplinary 
 education is found in the natural association of both with the 
 ideal of severity. Discipline has always been thought of as 
 the doing of hard things, things that are done, not from pleas- 
 ure, but from duty, sometimes things that are done just because 
 they are hard and the doing of them is judged to be good for 
 the soul or for the powers of the mind. Now in its beginnings 
 liberal education was typified in that adolescent training 
 which aimed to socialize the individual. 1 An important 
 phase of this socialization was the ordeal, which was supposed 
 to test the ability of the initiate to undergo the hardship and 
 pain that might fall to his lot in carrying out his duty to the 
 society which he was about to enter. Especially when this 
 social education becomes the distinguishing mark of a govern- 
 ing class does it acquire the character of impressing an unusual 
 
 1 Compare 13.
 
 Analysis of the Educational Agencies 439 
 
 standard of courage and endurance for the sake of honor and 
 glory. The Spartan, the Roman, the knightly culture savored 
 much of the discipline of severity. Thus it is natural to think 
 that any education designed for a leading class must worthily 
 test the moral and mental qualities by virtue of which they 
 rule. It must be a discipline, a steeling of the soul to heroism. 
 
 Lastly, we note that liberal education is designed for men ( 3 ) the aris- 
 whose lives present the greatest variety of emergencies. The 
 governing class needs above all a training that fosters the power culture for 
 to readjust, rather than the mechanical one that fits a man * ty apt 
 for a specific vocation. The difficulty, already noted, of select- 
 ing the content subjects of greatest relative value for such 
 culture as this leads the liberal school to fall back on a dis- 
 cipline that is supposed to train the powers of the mind without 
 reference to the subject matter which is taught. As life is 
 always most complex for those who stand at the front of prog- 
 ress, so the demand for ideal or rational education appears first 
 among the leading classes, and the conception of disciplinary 
 training is, as it were, the false dawn that precedes the rise of a 
 liberal culture the content of which is adapted to facilitate the 
 treatment of new situations. 
 
 As regards the relation between disciplinary and academic Discipline as 
 culture, it may be noted that whenever knowledge that has 
 confessedly, nay proudly, divorced itself from practice finds 
 itself in default of any utilities to which to appeal, it usually ture 
 invokes that of discipline. This defense ordinarily satisfies 
 the critics, and permits academic culture to go on without 
 further challenge. Here the notion of discipline plays its usual 
 role as a bulwark of defense for those whose weapons of offense 
 are not of a kind to encourage them to seek battle in the open 
 field.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 The school 
 a result 
 of the ex- 
 pansion of 
 culture 
 
 Adolescent 
 training, 
 written 
 language, 
 and the 
 school. 
 
 The school 
 as a cause 
 of better 
 and more 
 culture 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF THE SCHOOL 
 
 SECTION 49. The differentiation of the school 
 
 THE institutions of society are in their evolution subject to 
 the law of differentiation and integration which Spencer makes 
 so fundamental in this process. As it separates itself from 
 the common mass of customs in primitive human inter- 
 course, each of these institutions carries with it the function 
 of educating men in the ideals and practices peculiar to it. The 
 method of teaching is at first simply that of causing the young 
 to take part in the institutional life that is to be mastered. 
 The differentiation of the school is primarily the result of the 
 appearance of forms of culture which institutional life and 
 general social intercourse cannot give effectively or adequately 
 without the aid of some special agency for education. 
 
 We have already noted the origin of the school from the 
 special exercises of adolescence among primitive men, 1 and from 
 the development of written language. 2 The exercises of ado- 
 lescence were largely the product of a growing conviction that 
 there should be some conscious, specific, and impressive effort 
 to initiate young men and young women into the duties and 
 customs to which they were expected to conform when they 
 assumed full membership in the tribe. The differentiation of 
 this training makes it effective. It also opens the way for an 
 expansion in amount of training beyond what is given through 
 
 1 Compare 13. 
 
 2 Compare 14. 
 
 440
 
 The Evolution of the School 441 
 
 merely partaking in institutional life. The exercises have 
 been grouped under (i) ordeals, (2) initiatory rites, (3) drill, 
 (4) instruction in tribal traditions, laws, and beliefs. The 
 two latter factors are especially capable of expansion. In a increase of 
 military society, drill may come to be a matter of several years dri11 
 of training. Indeed, when with the specific military exercises 
 there is joined gymnastic culture preparatory to them, such as 
 we find among the Spartans, the whole may fill the entire period 
 from early childhood to adolescence. 
 But if the drill is capable of expansion, the fourth element increase of 
 
 in these adolescent exercises, viz., the instruction in tribal ^"^ m " 
 
 struction 
 
 traditions, laws, and beliefs, is still more potential for growth. 
 With this growth there usually goes the development of a 
 learned class. Since religion plays such an important part in 
 early learning, the learned class is ordinarily a priesthood. 
 This class often constitutes an hereditary caste, as Brahmans, 
 Chaldees, or Levites. It may be even more important in gov- 
 ernment than the military class or caste, especially where 
 settled conditions prevail, as in China or India, or it may 
 itself be identified with the military class, as among the Greeks 
 or Romans 
 
 The school becomes indispensable as an auxiliary to the pres- Learning be- 
 ervation of the ideas and practices of a learned class when once 
 this learning becomes embodied in written language. The 
 ideographs of early forms of writing are in the beginning simple, 
 but when they come to cover a wide range of objects the labor 
 of learning a separate symbol for each word becomes enormous. 
 Thus the work of the school accumulates. The very difficulty 
 of this work tends to render learning more and more exclusive, 
 the esoteric property of a learned class, who strive to express 
 its teachings in prescriptions to the uncultured, and who cher- 
 ish the detail of their culture as the source of their prestige and 
 power.
 
 442 Principles of Education 
 
 Control of The learned class that is thus differentiated may be a govern- 
 famii'y or by i n 3 c ^ ass or tke mere servant of such a class. In any case, 
 caste since early culture is of primary importance for social control, 
 the governing class in the community must retain a grip upon 
 it. So far the school, although it may be differentiated from 
 the family, is yet under its control. Children are trained ac- 
 cording to their hereditary status, and the dominant family 
 or group of families in the community prescribes the culture 
 that the school shall give. Indeed, in early civilization the 
 family is almost invariably the supreme institution. Not 
 only the education of the child, but also his religion and his 
 status in church or state, depend upon heredity; that is, 
 upon family relationship. Where government is in the hands 
 of hereditary classes, there the state is, in effect, only a sort of 
 a family. 
 
 The first phase of the differentiation of the school may be 
 
 said, then, to consist in the accumulation of culture material 
 
 Phases in the and the appearance of a special class of men who devote them- 
 
 tionoTthe" se l ves to the business of teaching. The second phase involves 
 
 school the growth of a culture that is dissociated from family interests, 
 
 and the gradual development of a school not in the service of 
 
 privileged classes. In this step the fortunes of the school have 
 
 been allied with those of the church and the state in their 
 
 struggle for distinctness and independence from the family. 
 
 Finally, the school has broken loose from the church, and in 
 
 alliance with the democratic state has assumed more and more 
 
 complete and independent control of the work of education. 
 
 We have yet to analyze a little more completely the two latter 
 
 movements. 
 
 Second The second phase of the differentiation of the school can be 
 
 Rise of c 1 m ^ s beginnings well illustrated in classical antiquity. Among 
 ture not to the Greeks the education was at first strictly subordinated to 
 trolled "by the interests and ideals of the dominant class. The growth
 
 The Evolution of the School 443 
 
 of learning produced, however, two new types of culture, each thegovem- 
 of which tended to lift the teaching class out of its position of 
 subordination. These were philosophy and oratory. Philos- Philosophy 
 ophy included a great range of subjects, metaphysics, ethics, ^a^ p i e 
 politics, and the existent sciences. The pursuit of these studies 
 led men, on the one hand, to question the wisdom and the 
 justice of the prevailing social order, or, on the other, to become 
 interested in the intellectual life as a pursuit of leisure. The 
 first effect put the sophist, or wise teacher, in the position of 
 knowing many things of which the socially ambitious could not 
 afford to be ignorant, something for which he was willing to 
 give pay both in honor and wealth. The second effect made the 
 philosopher entirely independent of worldly affairs, since he 
 found in his pursuit of wisdom an adequate career. To a 
 civilization that idealized a life of leisure the sage had some- 
 thing not to be commanded, but rather to be eagerly sought. 
 Thus in both ways the rise of philosophy tended to put the 
 learned or wise man, the teacher, in a position of control rather 
 than of subordination. He rose above the status of a mere 
 instrument of the privileged class in its work of social control. 
 
 In a similar way, oratory gave the sophist a measure of inde- Oratory as an 
 pendence. His art was an accomplishment through which 
 the possessor, even if he were a mere common man, was able 
 to win political and legal success. Hence, the teacher of ora- 
 tory could command patronage. In his possession was an 
 instrument of social control that the aristocrat could not domi- 
 nate, but must seek, or be worsted by one who, although in- 
 ferior in rank, was superior in social skill. The sophist, whether 
 teacher of philosophy or of oratory, was disliked by the old 
 aristocracy, but he was not easily to be put down, and, since 
 in his hands there was a culture which was not the servant of 
 hereditary privilege, he lifted the school into a measure of inde- 
 pendence of the family.
 
 444 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Continued 
 independ- 
 ence of 
 learning in 
 the im- 
 perial age 
 of Rome 
 
 Further 
 growth of 
 this inde- 
 pendence 
 with Chris- 
 tianity 
 
 After Greece lost its independence, its schools of oratory and 
 philosophy, being cosmopolitan, still retained their appeal. 
 Athens was transformed from a capital into an university. 
 "Captive Greece took captive her rude conqueror." With the 
 growth of imperialism and militarism the political uses of this 
 higher culture became less important, but philosophy and 
 letters retained their attractiveness as pursuits worth while 
 for their own sake. Through them the individual, whether 
 he were an Epictetus, inspiring a life of slavery with a profound 
 moral ideal, or an Aurelius, worn out by the cares of state, 
 but ever refreshed and strengthened by philosophic medita- 
 tion, or a Boethius, ending a career of greatness in a dungeon, 
 found refuge from the arbitrary fortunes of worldly affairs. 
 Thus the schoolmaster who taught this higher culture became 
 an independent factor among the conflicting interests of men, 
 and the school that he represented appealed to the individual 
 without reference to his relations to any other social institu- 
 tion. 
 
 The establishment of Christianity meant the exaltation and 
 the popularizing of this higher life apart from worldly interests. 
 The new cosmopolitan religion absorbed the function of pre- 
 serving and teaching the learned culture. Rejecting much, 
 it at the same time saved the essence of Platonic philosophy 
 in its theology and the essence of the Stoic theory of conduct 
 in its morals. Above all, it emphasized far more than even 
 those highest products of ancient intellectual and moral culture 
 the inner life, now conceived as the life of the soul, rather than 
 that of the intellect. In this life, the life alone with God, even 
 the humblest believer was held to partake. Spiritual welfare 
 meant not wealth nor rank nor anything pertaining to the 
 world, but rather that inner unity of the soul with the Father 
 in which alone was found something of eternal value. On such 
 a view, learned education became intensely individualistic
 
 The Evolution of the School 445 
 
 and remote from social concerns. Although indirectly religion 
 was here, as always, a tremendous factor in social control, its 
 professed ideal was unworldly rather than that of fostering the 
 interests of any community or even the secular interests of the 
 universal man. 
 
 Its alliance with the church rendered learned culture quite 
 independent of family. Christianity aimed to set the son 
 against the father, if the father were not a Christian. It 
 regarded the individual as a child of God rather than of man, 
 an heir to immortality rather than to a mere visible body. 
 In the eyes of the church human parentage counted as nothing 
 for salvation, and hence the education that was concerned in 
 spiritual matters must be free to all who wished it. Thus the 
 church became the advocate of universal education, so far as 
 religious matters were concerned. 
 
 On the other hand, this independence of education from the instruction 
 family concerned only its religious aspect. The school sep- 
 arates itself from its parent and early master by restricting mainly re- 
 the subject matter of its instruction, and by becoming adopted 
 
 bv the church. This dependence of education upon religious such in - 
 
 . r i i struction 
 
 institutions rendered it a servant of the social and worldly by special 
 interests of churches, whenever such ambitions took possession 
 of the professed guardians of the soul. Thus, both from the 
 point of view of the limitation of its subject matter and that 
 of its control by an institution with other than educational 
 interests, the alliance of church and school was ultimately 
 unsatisfactory to the latter. 
 
 The complete differentiation of the school has come about Third phase 
 through the gradual growth of secular learning, and the accom- 
 
 panying assumption of national control over education, in tfonofthe 
 order that this culture might be adequately fostered and justly 
 distributed to the young. We may note the following phases 
 in the development of secular learning :
 
 446 Principles of Education 
 
 The growth (i) Scholasticism and the Renaissance led to the develop- 
 
 of secular men |- o f a mass o f philosophy and science that was essentially 
 
 secular in character. This culture caused the differentiation 
 
 Philosophy in the universities of Europe of the department of philosophy 
 e from that of theology. It also found its way into the second- 
 ary schools of the Renaissance. 
 
 Law and (2) The eleventh and twelfth centuries witnessed the revival 
 
 medicine o f j aw anc j me dicine, so that they assumed the dignity that 
 they had gained among the Romans. This was due to the 
 growth of new political and social conditions that favored their 
 practice, to the gradual accumulation of a body of learning in 
 each field, and especially to the recovery of the treatises on law 
 and medicine by the ancients. Thus two secular departments of 
 learning appeared in the medieval university as soon as it was 
 founded, or, at least, shortly after. In consequence, although 
 under the church, it was largely devoted to secular learning. 
 
 The humani- (3) The Renaissance created or brought into prominence a 
 mass of literature,- history, philosophy, etc., that appealed 
 strongly to the aristocracy, partly because of a change in politi- 
 cal and social conditions, such as the development of court life 
 and of diplomacy and the accumulation of wealth, and partly 
 because of the slow but continuous development of taste. The 
 revival of the ancient literature served as food for this new 
 appetite, and afforded a nucleus for humanistic education, 
 which became practically the sole form of culture in the sec- 
 ondary schools. 
 
 Literacy for (4) Protestantism emphasized the importance of literacy 
 for all, thus urging the need for the creation of common schools. 
 This literacy was, it is true, conceived to be a necessary phase 
 of religious culture, inasmuch as it furnished the foundation 
 for that first-hand knowledge of the Scriptures deemed requi- 
 site if each one were to exercise his right and duty of private 
 judgment on matters of religion. However, the ability to read
 
 The Evolution of tJte School 447 
 
 and write is in itself a secular rather than a religious accom- 
 plishment, and any attempt to render it universal involves 
 elaborate provisions on the part of the community for secular 
 training. Thus religion led the way in promoting the giving of 
 culture that ultimately found its main value in worldly affairs. 
 
 (5) The application of science to the vocations transformed Scientific in- 
 many that were only trades into true professions, and some 
 occupations that were entirely unskilled into trades involving cation 
 considerable scientific knowledge. The mass of workers in the 
 occupations vitalized by science came to use their brains quite 
 
 as much as their hands, and, in order that they might do this 
 effectively, a preliminary school training became increasingly 
 necessary. Moreover, the breaking down of the apprentice 
 system tended to compel the school to assume vocational 
 training hitherto intrusted to that agency, so that the school is 
 now called upon to give, not only the additional preparation 
 that present as compared with past methods require for a 
 vocation, but also much of that preparation that was formerly 
 gained by the child while carrying on the activities of the 
 vocation itself. 
 
 (6) The rise of popular forms of government has created a Training in 
 need for training in the duties of citizenship. On the ground 
 
 that it was necessary in order to give this training, Horace 
 Mann first urged the importance of more liberal state support of 
 schools in the United States. Republican government, he con- 
 tended, demanded a special culture for the enfranchised masses. 
 
 (7) In addition to universal education in literacy, in science Universal 
 as a basis for the vocation, and in civics, modern democratic 
 
 life has brought about democratization of culture in art, lit- 
 erature, history, and science apart from that which is utilized 
 in the vocation. What the Renaissance aimed to give to the 
 aristocracy, modern education aims to transmit in a measure 
 to all.
 
 44 8 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The nation- 
 alization 
 of educa- 
 tion. 
 Reasons 
 for it 
 
 Steps in this 
 process 
 
 The univer- 
 sities be- 
 come iden- 
 tified with 
 the nations 
 
 The growth of all this secular culture and its incorporation 
 into the curriculum brought with it the nationalization of in- 
 struction. Three reasons may be offered for this. In the first 
 place, secular instruction, in order to secure its privileges and 
 its relative importance, felt the need of placing itself under the 
 protection and ultimately the control of the state. Only in 
 this way could philosophy and science, the humanities and 
 vocational culture shake themselves free from the ecclesiastical 
 or the denominational control that inevitably tended to empha- 
 size culture in religion, and especially in orthodoxy, at their 
 expense. Secondly, the extraordinary increase in the work to 
 be done by the school gradually forced the state, as the most 
 powerful and the most resourceful institution of society, to 
 undertake this educational task, with which it alone was able 
 to cope. Lastly, the growth of the democratic idea that 
 secular education, like the religious education of Christianity, 
 should be distributed justly to all made it necessary for the 
 state to do what private or religious agencies must inevitably 
 fail properly to attain, since, even when they are animated by 
 the motive of charity, they are, after all, kindest to their own. 
 
 This process of nationalizing education presents the follow- 
 ing interesting historical stages : 
 
 (i) The University Charter. 1 The medieval universities 
 were chartered both by the Pope and by the temporal sovereign 
 in the territory of their location. The former charter gave 
 them the right to teach and to grant degrees that were licenses 
 to teach. The latter gave them certain civil and political 
 privileges, corresponding in general to the benefit of clergy. 
 Now, although the educational function is here exercised in the 
 name of the church, and by virtue of authority derived there- 
 from, nevertheless, the chartering of a special educational 
 institution meant the separation of the educational function 
 1 Compare Rashdall, Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages. 

 
 The Evolution of the School 449 
 
 from the ecclesiastical one, so far as the university was con- 
 cerned. This differentiation led to further educational inde- 
 pendence, an independence which the political charter of the 
 university tended to emphasize and support. The long 
 struggle at the University of Paris between the Faculties and 
 the Chancellor, who represented the church, a struggle 
 the outcome of which was a practical victory on the part of the 
 University, is typical of a conflict that went on all over 
 Europe. It tended to identify the university, as a place where 
 philosophy was taught as well as theology, where the prac- 
 titioners of law and medicine were trained as well as the priest, 
 with the nation in the territory of which it was situated, and 
 to reduce the amount of control that the central authorities 
 of the church exercised. 
 
 (2) State and Private Support of Renaissance Secondary Schools. Secondary 
 The humanistic culture created its own schools. Some 
 
 come under 
 
 of these, such as the colleges of the Jesuits, were closely under state con- 
 religious control. All, however, were at least partially differen- 
 tiated from the ecclesiastical organization of the church. Some 
 were fostered by private endowments, by the nobility, by 
 princes, or by municipalities. All of these tended to come under 
 national control. 
 
 (3) The Rise of National Churches. The Protestant move- National con- 
 ment brought the church largely under national control, church af- 
 The head of the state became the head of the church within fectsthe 
 
 school 
 
 his dominions. As such, he controlled education as well as 
 other spiritual affairs. 1 When the function of educational con- 
 trol, support, and supervision became more extensive, it became 
 practically distinct from that of religion. 
 
 (4) The Establishment of National Systems to promote Univer- Universal 
 
 sal Civic and Industrial Efficiency. Four distinct reasons may j ar educa- 
 
 tion in the 
 
 1 In the German states to-day education and spiritual affairs belong to the nineteenth 
 same department. century 
 
 2G
 
 450 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 be noted for this interest on the part of the state in universal 
 its causes education. First, in the development of nationalities like that 
 of Germany to-day, education was recognized as a most im- 
 portant agency for rousing patriotism, developing the national 
 sense, and promoting that citizenship which would best make 
 for national solidarity, welfare, and glory. The state could 
 from interested motives concern itself in fostering an educa- 
 tion that furthered national political purposes. Second, in 
 democracies we have another case of the growth of national 
 education as a means of social control. The early argument 
 for liberal state support of education is based on the supposed 
 need of general intelligence and culture among the citizens, if 
 the nation were to be saved from the arts of the corruptionist 
 and the demagogue. 1 Third, in the modern commercial and 
 industrial rivalry of states many nations have come to feel that 
 success depends largely on efficient education in the scientific 
 foundations of trade, manufacturing, agriculture, mining, 
 building, transportation, and engineering. Hence the extraor- 
 dinary development of schools for such instruction by Euro- 
 pean states. Finally, the state is rapidly coming to feel that 
 it should cultivate this increased efficiency on the part of its 
 citizens, not only because such a gain makes for national great- 
 ness, but also because it brings about an increase in the individ- 
 ual welfare which it is the business of the state to foster. Thus 
 the nation comes to do in the service of the individual that 
 which it first undertook in order to serve itself. 
 
 ummary In reviewing the process by which the school is differentiated 
 
 from the other social institutions, we notice these aspects : 
 the effect of accumulating culture in forcing the educational 
 function to become specialized ; the subordination of the school 
 to family, church, or state in their endeavor to use its culture 
 
 1 Compare Horace Mann, Necessity of Education in a Republican Government, 
 and the views of Washington and Jefferson.
 
 The Evolution of the School 451 
 
 as a source of social control ; and the gaining of freedom by 
 the school through the rise of ''academic" culture and of cul- 
 ture of value primarily to the efficiency of the individual rather 
 than to the supremacy of a privileged class. The differen- 
 tiating effect of additions to the subject matter of culture 
 is illustrated continuously through educational history. In 
 the beginning, it brought about the learned class and the school. 
 Later, the rise of academic culture enabled the learned class 
 to break loose from the control of privileged classes. Ulti- 
 mately, the school allied itself with the church and became 
 excessively unworldly, so unworldly that in its zeal for the 
 eternal interests of the individual it often forgot his temporal 
 ones, if, indeed, they were not consciously overlooked and 
 abused. Democratic as the church was in spiritual affairs, 
 it could yet defend the doctrine of the "divine rights of kings" 
 and enter into a fierce struggle for temporal power. The rise 
 of the modern type of education for efficiency meant educa- 
 tional ideals and materials which concern the welfare of the 
 individual rather than that of any special class or institution. 
 Hence, it led to the complete differentiation of the school. 
 To gain this independence it allied itself with the state. This 
 institution, although at first it made use of education to pro- 
 mote national ends, such as self-preservation, glory, or wealth, 
 has ultimately come to permit the school to devote itself 
 solely to the task of affording to the individual that culture 
 which seems best calculated to secure his personal welfare. 
 
 SECTION 50. The rise of academic freedom 
 
 The question of the differentiation of the school is so closely Three phases 
 bound up with that of its independence that the preceding j ei ^P 
 section has constantly trenched on the ground of this one. freedom 
 Much, however, remains to be said on the latter topic, a topic
 
 45 2 Principles of Education 
 
 commonly discussed as the question of academic freedom. 
 This conception has, as is to be expected, undergone an evolu- 
 tion, which has revealed from time to time such new phases of 
 scholastic independence as the special emergencies of certain 
 historical periods brought into dispute. Three aspects of 
 academic freedom may be noted. It has meant successively 
 freedom of investigation, freedom of teaching, and freedom 
 in determining the nature and scope of education, a conception 
 which only in recent times is receiving clear recognition and 
 formulation. 
 
 (i) Freedom It may be thought that freedom of investigation does not 
 concern the school. For, although investigation continually 
 recreates the curriculum, it is not a necessary function of the 
 teacher. Nevertheless, historically, the learning that the 
 school imparts has been very considerably the product of those 
 
 The school as who are in this profession. Beginning as mere guardians of 
 
 hiv'stf a*** soc ^ a ^ heredity, they have gone on to study more deeply the 
 
 tion sources, the meaning, and the truth or justice of that which 
 
 they have taught. From teachers they have become investi- 
 
 gators, and no field of human action or thought has evaded 
 
 their researches. 
 
 The school as On the other hand, the school has often resisted the progress 
 f investigation. This is especially true when it comes under 
 
 tion, as the ^g control of certain institutions or classes that use it to further 
 
 judge of . . . . __ 
 
 theperma- or to preserve established practices or positions. However, 
 ien kieL smce the success of new ideas depends largely upon their being 
 accepted by the school and thus grafted on social heredity, 
 it may be said that the products of investigation must ulti- 
 mately meet the approval of this institution before they really 
 become current. In the progress of time, the school has come 
 consciously to assume both the role of investigator and that of 
 the judge of investigators. The result has usually been a con- 
 flict between the leaders among the learned class and certain
 
 The Evolution of the School 453 
 
 dominant social orders that from characteristic conservatism 
 
 or from fear that their privileges or power will be curtailed are 
 
 apt to resist all changes. We find such a struggle among the 
 
 Greeks at the time of the Sophists, among the Romans of the 
 
 age of Cicero in resisting the inroads of Greek culture. Espe- 
 
 cially important, however, is the conflict roused by the gradual 
 
 advances of the school in philosophy and later in science since 
 
 the Dark Ages. From its beginning the medieval university 
 
 was associated with the application of reason to matters of 
 
 faith ; that is, with philosophy as the "handmaid of theology." 
 
 Ultimately science, which at first was cultivated rather without 
 
 than within the school, found its home within this highest 
 
 educational institution. The result of these advances was that 
 
 again and again the university was compelled to fight in be- 
 
 half of its right to pursue its own intellectual researches ir- 
 
 respective of their bearing on the established order of church 
 
 or state or the privileges of aristocracy or wealth. The position 
 
 of dependence in which it has been placed has forced it to com- 
 
 promise these contests. The usual form of the compromise Restriction 
 
 is to permit the school to investigate freely, but to forbid 
 
 the application of its results to the practice or beliefs of the academic 
 
 institutions or classes that are able to control it. Thus, what 
 
 is true for philosophy is held to be false for theology. Thus, 
 
 science was tolerated so long as it kept to purely "academic" 
 
 issues, but the biologist must not push the idea of evolution 
 
 to the detriment of orthodoxy, and the economist or the soci- 
 
 ologist must not teach doctrines at variance with the interests 
 
 of actual or prospective donors of the institution that pays his 
 
 Application 
 
 It is true that other conditions beside the restrictions of of the re- 
 controlling agencies have conspired to render the school aca- 
 
 demic. The fact that science frequently requires to be fairly by those 
 
 ... outside the 
 
 well advanced before any large practical applications are
 
 454 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The rise of 
 
 moval of 
 
 tkmTf 'in- 
 vestigation 
 
 demic 
 
 found for it is one among many positive causes to be dis- 
 cussed later which have caused the school to limit its inter- 
 est in investigation at first to purely academic matters. The 
 result of this separation of the academic from the practical 
 has been that the applications of the investigations of the 
 school have seemed to come largely from those not engaged 
 in education. Such persons were free from the negative restric- 
 tions of the school, and their positive interests were usually 
 in application rather than in theory. However, philosophy 
 and science are both bound to tend toward practice, and with 
 the rise of academic freedom the school has come to show quite 
 as much interest in application as it ever has in knowledge 
 for its own sake. 
 
 Thus the school advanced from subordination to dominant 
 g rou P s t a freedom the practical efficacy of which was paralyzed 
 by limiting it to the academic. The rise of the democratic 
 state has caused this restriction to be very largely removed. 
 ^he development of the conception that government should 
 aim at the largest efficiency for all and that this result can come 
 only from a profound knowledge of the truth has led to the 
 view that the agencies for investigation must be permitted the 
 widest freedom, and that they must concern themselves with 
 practice as well as with theory. Indeed, there has recently 
 appeared a strong tendency to create special institutions of 
 research in order that the investigator shall not be hampered 
 even by the necessity of teaching. Since the school, on the 
 one hand, has come to be no longer feared as a source of social 
 or religious discontent and, on the other, has ceased to be 
 disparaged as concerned with that which has little or no prac- 
 tical importance, it has succeeded in obtaining, not only scho- 
 lastic independence, but also that more liberal support without 
 which a real independence is impossible. 
 
 If the freedom of investigation is typified in the liberty of
 
 The Evolution of the School 455 
 
 conscience, the freedom of teaching may be regarded as a ( z ) Freedom 
 
 phase of freedom of speech. The two sorts of academic 
 
 freedom usually involve each other. What one thinks he implication 
 
 usually finds it nearly impossible not to express, and expres- 
 
 sion is always in effect a form of teaching. Hence, freedom gation, yet 
 
 of investigation would be very difficult as well as comparatively m a y 
 
 useless unless it carried with it the right to make known what 
 
 it discovered. However, it is possible for investigation to be 
 
 permitted and, indeed, encouraged, even though the public 
 
 expression of its results is held in check. History reveals 
 
 cases where what a teaching class knows and believes is quite 
 
 distinct from what it is permitted freely to teach. In such in- 
 
 stances we have what are known as esoteric views, taught, it 
 
 is true, but to a limited number of the elect. A body of learn- Causes of 
 
 ing may become esoteric for various reasons. It may be held 
 
 to be incomprehensible to the average individual, and, for that 
 
 reason, be taught only to the gifted few. Or the group solidar- 
 
 ity and the prestige that is gained by any select body from 
 
 the common knowledge of certain matters kept secret from the 
 
 profane may lead its members to cherish these mysteries. This 
 
 motive can be seen in the secret societies of primitive men, in 
 
 the religious mysteries of the ancients, and in the fraternal 
 
 orders of to-day. But the third motive that causes learning 
 
 to become esoteric is probably more influential than either of 
 
 the others. When men of active intelligence and reflective 
 
 life come, as a result of their researches and meditations, to 
 
 entertain beliefs that might subvert the authority or the privi- 
 
 leges of a dominant class, they must as a matter of self-preser- 
 
 vation keep their discoveries to themselves. Especially is 
 
 this so when they themselves constitute a group the prestige 
 
 of which rests, or is thought to rest, on the continued faith of 
 
 the multitude in doctrines which they have ceased to hold. 
 
 Even in our own age of_freedom men give in their external
 
 456 Principles of Education 
 
 assent to practices and views the foundations of which they 
 do not regard as sound, justifying their attitude by prudence, 
 coupled, perhaps, with cynical contempt of those whose intel- 
 lectual inferiority permits them to be deceived. 
 
 Value of Thus men permit themselves, or are permitted by the 
 
 knowicfd e P owers that be, to investigate, provided they do not spread 
 as esoteric abroad what they discover in case it is subversive of power- 
 fa) check- ful institutions or privileges. This divorce of the esoteric 
 mg ai-con- f rom that which is publicly taught is not without a value. In- 
 
 sidered 
 
 revolu- deed, we may say the same of the restriction of the school to 
 academic investigation, for this condition doubtless served to 
 concentrate thought upon philosophy and science for their own 
 sake, and thus to make possible the accumulation of a mass 
 of knowledge for the reconstruction of human practice, such 
 as could not have been obtained had the investigator kept 
 himself closely to researches that yield results which can im- 
 mediately be applied. The value of keeping knowledge as 
 esoteric may be found in that in this form it is not too hastily 
 or unwisely applied to the subversion of the social order. This 
 use is allied to the function of superstition, which we have 
 earlier indicated. 1 As superstition may prevent reason from 
 resulting in anarchistic individualism, so the keeping of knowl- 
 edge to a few may prevent it from carrying under the very 
 social agencies that have brought it forth, until society can 
 reconstruct itself in accordance with the new light. Intellec- 
 tual revolutions affect the social order at first destructively. 
 The process of reconstruction is not to be accomplished by 
 mere schemes sprung fully matured from the minds of men of 
 genius. Rather, they must be a product of much reflection 
 and long experiment. Social stability during this period of 
 experimentation may best be safeguarded, as Des Cartes sug- 
 gested, 2 by clinging to the old, even though it be somewhat 
 1 Compare 14. 2 Discours de la Methode, Part II.
 
 The Evolution of the School 457 
 
 discredited, until we are fairly certain of the effects of the new. 
 Herein lies the value of a conservatism in expressing new 
 ideas that seems to smack of hypocrisy. 
 
 Again, not only does the intellect discover the shortcom- (6) prevent- 
 ings of traditional theory and practice long before it is ready 
 to replace these by anything that will work, but the tendency of action 
 of investigation is also dangerous from the mere fact that it 
 raises doubt and paralyzes will. Human conduct is both in 
 the individuals and states often determined by beliefs that 
 cannot, at the time at least, be established by scientific meth- 
 ods. Hence these beliefs can be challenged by contradictory 
 opinions, and so long as the intellect preserves its pause of 
 reflection no solution is possible. The demands of life require 
 that this Gordian Knot of indecision be cut by will. There 
 are ages when intellectual analysis and dubiety must be re- 
 placed by belief that will not doubt, and by a volition that 
 cares more for the accomplishment of results than for the 
 soundness of its premises. Such an attitude requires that the 
 unsettling results of investigation be kept in the background. 
 In the long run, the practice that is thus permitted free play 
 may result in that very experience by which it is possible to 
 resolve doubts and arrive at conclusive judgments. Thus the Consequent 
 abandonment of the attempt to establish practice on con- ofdwS've" 
 vincing reason involves a resort to the arbitrament of the experience 
 event, through which alone the experience necessary to satis- 
 factory intellectual decision can be obtained. 
 
 But while the separation of what is esoteric from that which The growth 
 is exoteric in teaching may be an inevitable and a desirable ty s * ' 
 phase in the evolution of academic freedom, it tends to give judgment 
 way before the forces that make for enlightenment. Society ^ t he 
 ultimately arrives at a degree of self-consciousness concerning 
 its mechanism and of self-control in regard to its actions 
 which permits the truth to be known about as rapidly as it is
 
 458 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Freedom of 
 
 to judg- 
 
 (3) Freedom 
 
 the C work 
 fthe 
 
 discovered. The age of revolution is replaced by one of 
 more steady progress. Institutions are no longer subject to 
 sudden reconstruction, to be followed by long periods of 
 comparative stagnation, but they become flexible. To be 
 sure, it is not likely that progress will ever be absolutely con- 
 tinuous in rate. Nevertheless, spasmodic growth may be 
 expected to be less and less in evidence. Under these condi- 
 tions the investigations and teachings of the school may be 
 expected to produce constant changes, but they will be less 
 likely to result in violent ones. 
 
 The full freedom on the part of the school to find out the 
 truth, ^ ^ can > an( ^ to teach it when it is known, reacts favor- 
 ably upon the sobriety of judgment of this institution. The 
 limitation of academic freedom historically may often be 
 justified from the tendency on the part of the investigators 
 of the school to arrive at conclusions without adequate data. 
 Against the inferences of a rationality too often divorced from 
 fact society had frequently need to defend itself. The devel- 
 opment of greater perfection of scientific method and of the 
 critical power to distinguish between the proved and the hy- 
 pothetical are partly an occasion for permitting greater aca- 
 demic freedom, and partly a result of the increased sense of 
 responsibility which experience in such freedom has produced. 
 
 The third phase of academic freedom is freedom in deter- 
 mining the nature and scope of education. It means that the 
 school is at liberty to prescribe to its pupils what they shall 
 study and the method of their work. In one sense such power 
 is involved in the extension of freedom to investigate and to 
 teach. Investigation creates and reforms the curriculum, and 
 teaching tends to follow as it directs. On the other hand, aca- 
 demic freedom in these respects has often, as we have seen, 
 been purchased dt the cost of a limitation of the nature and 
 scope of the work of the school. Freedom to investigate and
 
 The Evolution of the School 
 
 459 
 
 in educa- 
 tion as in- 
 volving a 
 dependent 
 school 
 
 to teach what one finds to be true was permitted, but all sub- 
 jects which the dominant classes in the community wished 
 to preserve inviolate were excluded from the school curriculum. 
 As a matter of fact, the attainment of liberty of thought and 
 of conscience, of speech and of the press, which the eighteenth 
 century conceived as fundamental among the rights of men, 
 was coupled with a notion of laissez faire in government, which 
 left the school in dependence upon private agencies, and so 
 a mere expression of family ambitions or denominational views. 
 Thus we have the "freedom of teaching" of the France of the 
 Revolution and of the United States during much of its his- 
 tory. The state simply lets education alone. Such an ar- 
 rangement theorists like Herbert Spencer conceive to be the 
 one most conducive to the welfare of the individual and the 
 progress of society. Consequently, they oppose any attempt 
 on the part of the state to assume control of the school. 
 
 "For what is meant by saying that a government ought Spenceron 
 to educate the people ? Why should they be educated ? What 
 is the education for ? Clearly to fit them for social life ; to 
 make good citizens. And who is to say what are good citizens ? 
 The Government. There is no other judge. Hence the propo- 
 sition is convertible into this a Government ought to mold 
 children into good citizens, using its own discretion in settling 
 what a good citizen is and how the child may be molded into 
 one. It must first form for itself a conception of a pattern 
 citizen ; and having done this, must elaborate a system of 
 discipline which seems best calculated to produce citizens after 
 that pattern. This system it is bound to enforce to the utter- 
 most. For if it does otherwise, it allows men to become differ- 
 ent from what in its judgment they should become, and 
 therefore fails in that duty it is charged to fulfill. Being thus 
 fortified in carrying out such plans as it thinks best, every 
 Government ought to do what the despotic Governments 
 of the Continent and of China do. The regulation under 
 which, in France, private schools cannot be established with- 
 
 the evils of 
 state con- 
 trol of 
 schools
 
 460 Principles of Ediication 
 
 out a license from the minister and can be shut up by a simple 
 ministerial order is a step in the right direction, but does not 
 go far enough, seeing that the state cannot permit its mission 
 to be undertaken by others, without endangering the due per- 
 formance of it. The forbidding of all private schools what- 
 ever, as until recently in Prussia, is nearer the mark." x 
 
 Laissez faire Among the most important consequences of state education, 
 fended tw accorcmi g to Mr. Spencer, is that " the teaching organism itself, 
 the basis of and the Government which directs it, will inevitably lean to 
 andfjusT 6 things as they are, and to give them control over the national 
 education m ind is to give them the means of repressing aspirations after 
 things as they should be." 
 
 According to this view, the laissez faire theory of educa- 
 tion, the school will be freest to investigate, to teach, and 
 so to progress in case it is left to private agencies which are 
 protected in their freedom of teaching. A national system 
 is supposed to mean paternalism, the suppression of variation, 
 and so of progress, in a word, absolutism with all its attendant 
 evils. What we need is freedom on the part of the individual 
 to study what he chooses. Let the laws of demand and supply 
 operate as freely as human contrivances can permit. The 
 school, made dependent on the demands of its patrons, will 
 supply whatever their ambitions and intelligence require. 
 Thus, it is assumed, each will get the kind and the amount 
 of education that he deserves. We will have justice in giving 
 to each what he earns and values, freedom in forcing upon 
 none what they do not want, and progress in providing the 
 greatest freedom for the development of individual differences 
 and for their struggle for existence. 
 
 Likelihood of The believer in laissez faire holds that freedom of teaching 
 
 site effects involves no interference on the part of the state in the work of 
 
 education. But such an arrangement leaves it a mere servile 
 
 1 Spencer, Social Statics: Essay on National Education.
 
 77/6' Evolution of the School 
 
 461 
 
 flunky upon the tastes and prejudices of its patrons. It 
 must give that which will insure it pupils. Under such con- 
 ditions there is no freedom to teach, for if the school does not 
 teach what the parents want, that is, if it does not give up 
 its freedom, it cannot teach at all, since it will have no 
 patronage. Hence, genuine academic freedom requires that 
 the state should protect the school in determining the con- 
 tent and method of education. Without this privilege and 
 responsibility academic freedom is left ineffectual. 
 
 The two issues, that of control of education by the school 
 and that of control and support of the school by the state, 
 have gone hand in hand. If it be admitted that there should 
 be complete academic freedom, one must at the same time 
 grant that the school can be placed in this position only by the 
 generous support and protection of a democratic state. His- 
 torically it is true that national education has been both con- 
 servative and calculated to favor the welfare of the nation or 
 that of a dominant class rather than that of the individual. 
 However, this result sprang from the fact that the state has 
 been under the control of classes or of conservatives. When 
 once this institution has become imbued with the spirit of 
 progress, there is no reason why it should not favor intel- 
 lectual investigation and reform through education. More- 
 over, the democratic state is pledged to secure, so far as 
 possible, equality of opportunity. Hence, it cannot favor edu- 
 cation in the interests of classes. The event has proved that 
 national education tends toward both the most exact justice 
 to the child and the largest efficiency in the school. 
 
 But while it may be agreed that national education means 
 the greatest measure of academic freedom for the school, 
 many may question the wisdom of permitting such power to 
 come into the hands of the teaching class. It remains to 
 show that the greatest efficiency in education springs from giv- 
 
 State control 
 the pre- 
 requisite of 
 complete 
 academic 
 freedom 
 
 Academic 
 freedom a 
 condition 
 of expert 
 control
 
 462 Principles of Education 
 
 ing to the school the power to determine what and how it 
 shall teach. There are two fundamental reasons for this 
 complete academic freedom. These are the growth of edu- 
 cation into a profession involving special knowledge and skill, 
 and the fact that education deals with individuals who are in- 
 capable, without direction, of knowing or getting what they 
 should have. The growth of the systematic study of education 
 and of the professional spirit among schoolmasters has led 
 them to demand and to receive more and more that influence 
 in the direction of their special work which is due to the ex- 
 pert. This movement has been furthered by the rise of uni- 
 versal education and of the ideal of education for efficiency. 
 Universal education has intensified the difficulties of school 
 method and created a vast number of problems of supervision 
 and administration. The attempt to secure efficiency as the 
 result of teaching has involved problems of adapting the 
 course of study to life that were not realized when the "piety, 
 knowledge, and art of expression" that the school has been 
 wont to cultivate were felt to be worth while for their own 
 sake. Thus both the rise of expert knowledge and the diffi- 
 culty of modern utilitarian education have conspired to raise 
 education into a profession and to secure for it practical con- 
 trol over its work. 
 
 Expert con- The development of education into a special science in the 
 
 foundation nan ^s of experts must of necessity react upon its progressive- 
 
 pf progress ness. In the first place, it is relieved from dependence upon 
 
 tion the prejudices of its patrons, which are of necessity largely 
 
 uncritical. These lay opinions are apt to be conservative. 
 
 Men look back fondly upon the education that they received, 
 
 or thought they received, and sorrowfully contrast it with 
 
 the "fads" and the superficiality of to-day. On the other 
 
 hand, when the lay mind does feel the need of progress, it is apt 
 
 to ride its hobbies without that careful criticism which can
 
 TJie Evolution of the School 463 
 
 come adequately only from patient study and investigation. 
 The special science of education aims to separate what is known 
 from what is problematical, to accumulate data, to conduct edu- 
 cational experimentation, and so to organize the profession 
 that what is once established need not be forgotten for lack of 
 any systematic method of making it known. Thus academic 
 freedom means professional unity, and that systematic or- 
 ganization of educational research which replaces mere chance 
 progress by conscious effort under the control of scientific 
 method. 
 
 The school should control its work, not only that it may Academic 
 make this scientific and progressive, but also because in a pe- 
 culiar sense it deals with those who are in need of direction, to a just 
 To leave education in the hands of private agencies means to tionof edu- 
 
 make the education of children dependent upon the resources 
 and the standards of parents. Now, while parental ambi- 
 tion is one of the noblest of emotions and deserves to be en- 
 couraged, to leave the child dependent upon it and its resources 
 means inequality and injustice to many. A democratic so- 
 ciety must believe that the child of poverty and degradation 
 is, as a child, quite as deserving of educational opportunity as 
 is the scion of wealth and nobility of life. To be sure, no 
 scheme except one which, like that of Plato, abolishes the 
 family can destroy its influence on education. Yet the more 
 glaring inequalities that spring from the relegation of this 
 function entirely to the family can be remedied by establish- 
 ing a school equipped with resources and power such as make 
 it genuinely free in its supervision of the nature and scope of 
 the training of the young. The inde- 
 
 Thus the modern state, which holds itself responsible to do 
 
 its best for the welfare of its citizens, has come to devote itself s^ 001 a 
 
 . . . source of 
 
 especially to the task of equalizing educational opportunities individual 
 
 through a national school. The policy of laisscz faire has freedom
 
 464 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Endowed 
 private 
 schools 
 may be 
 academi- 
 cally free 
 
 been replaced by that of providing, in conformity with the 
 ideal of Horace Mann, a public school so good that no parent 
 would prefer a private one on account of the greater merit 
 of its instruction, and of so far interfering with the liberty 
 of the individual as to compel the attendance of the children, 
 to limit their right to labor, and to provide them, where neces- 
 sary, with the food, the clothing, and the other resources 
 that are required to make the work of the school effective. 
 This policy, so far from being an agency of tyranny, is the 
 source of the largest freedom to the individual. A system 
 of education resting on charity and private patronage is bound 
 to reflect the point of view of those families of wealth and 
 station who constitute its main support. The social control 
 of such an institution is inevitably thrown upon the side of 
 the interests that it especially represents. 
 
 The national school is not of necessity supported wholly by 
 public funds nor controlled entirely by state officers. Large 
 private endowments, when they are not accompanied by ex- 
 press or implied conditions that limit academic freedom, do 
 not hamper but rather aid the national school. Moreover, 
 the control of such endowments by self-perpetuating boards 
 of trustees is not inconsistent with a responsiveness to public 
 opinion. In these educational agencies, therefore, we may and 
 do have merely parts of a national system. Indeed, the Presi- 
 dent * of one great endowed American University has main- 
 tained that in effect such an institution is as genuine a part 
 of the state system as is the so-called State University. While 
 the truth of this view may be granted, it is also clear that 
 without the support and protection of the democratic state the 
 school could not have been able adequately and freely to care 
 for the task of education from the elementary school to the uni- 
 versity. Academic freedom in the highest sense has meant 
 
 1 President Butler.
 
 The Evolution of the School 465 
 
 that the state should assume the responsibility for the exist- 
 ence of a school that could control education effectively, and 
 without any other motive than the desire to foster impartially 
 the welfare of children. 
 
 The control by the school over the nature and scope of Resumption 
 its work has enabled it gradually to reassume the teaching of ^ y h jf of 
 many subjects that had been shut out of its curriculum as a the teacn - 
 condition of its independence. Thus religion and politics are tefdicted 
 gradually making their way into the researches and the instruc- sub J*s 
 tion of universities. Doubtless, such subjects will eventually 
 reach the elementary school. When education ceases to con- 
 fuse opinion with scientific certainty and comes to teach facts 
 apart from hypotheses, its assistance on matters of vital prac- 
 tical import will not only be permitted but desired and, indeed, 
 expected. 
 
 Academic freedom in its completest sense may be said to implications 
 imply that the school should possess the following powers: academ 
 
 (1) control of the curriculum and of methods of teaching; freedom: 
 
 (2) control of the appointment of teachers ; (3) compulsory 
 education ; (4) control of school finances ; (5) adequate school 
 appropriations. It will be seen that these powers make the 
 school dominant in all educational matters, as, indeed, it should 
 be. However, there are perils in such authority, and it is not 
 difficult to see what they are. Before discussing them and 
 the limitations of power that are necessary to escape them, it 
 may be well to consider a little more specifically the meaning 
 and justification of each implication. 
 
 The control over the curriculum and the methods of teaching (i) control 
 is the only condition under which the work of education can ^cdum 
 become an expert profession, alive to its responsibilities and andmeth- 
 full of the spirit of progress. As well ask a physician to con- teaching; 
 duct and be responsible for a case in which his advice is freely 
 disregarded, as to ask the school to teach our children and 
 
 2H
 
 466 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 (2) control 
 over who 
 shall be 
 permitted 
 to teach ; 
 
 (3) compul- 
 sory educa- 
 tion; 
 
 (4) control 
 of the dis- 
 position of 
 school 
 money ; 
 
 (5) adequate 
 financial 
 support 
 
 then to prescribe the details of what it should do. Indeed, 
 there is more need of independence for the school than for 
 the physician, since education concerns the interests of an 
 immature child and seeks freedom from ignorant parental 
 meddling with its endeavors to serve these, whereas the phy- 
 sician is dealing usually with a responsible adult, and wishes 
 only to enforce a regimen the value of which can ordinarily 
 be quickly realized by the patient himself. 
 
 The determination of who shall be teachers must in large 
 measure rest with the teaching profession. If this authority 
 is not so placed, there is no assurance that the best ideals and 
 practices of the profession will be illustrated in those who are 
 called upon to teach. There is, indeed, no certainty that the 
 judgment of teachers about teachers is always better than 
 that of those outside the profession. But, at any rate, the 
 selection of teachers, by superintendents who are responsible 
 for the results that they attain tends to free this matter from 
 all sorts of influences other than those which are professional, 
 influences which tend to degrade the intellectual as well as 
 the moral standard of the profession. 
 
 Again, compulsory education has come to be recognized as 
 indispensable in order that irresponsible or destitute parents, 
 or the ignorance of childhood, may not, so far as this can be 
 prevented, interfere with the beneficence of the school in pro- 
 viding the essentials of a standard education. 
 
 Finally, in reference to school finances, it is evident that in 
 so far as these are applied to matters purely educational in 
 character, the expert in education should be regarded as the 
 best judge of their disposal. The power of the purse is in 
 many ways the determining influence, not only in the matter 
 of the extent of education, but also in that of its character. 
 In order that its extent may not be improperly limited, there 
 should be adequate school appropriations, and the funds
 
 Tlie Evolution of tJie School 467 
 
 thus available should be disposed of under the guidance of 
 competent educational advice. 
 
 To recapitulate, academic freedom has assumed three forms, Summary 
 each of which involves special issues. As the teaching class 
 becomes more and more a group of experts in learning, they 
 naturally drift into investigation. Their researches touch 
 upon vital questions of social control and incite the hostility 
 of those whose status in society is threatened. In such a 
 pass, freedom of investigation may be retained at the price of 
 restriction to such questions as are "safe" or "academic." 
 But investigation tends to trench on the forbidden. In that 
 event, it often saves a struggle by failing to publish its results. 
 The school has frequently protected itself from loss of prestige 
 or the enmity of privileged classes by keeping as esoteric what 
 it has discovered. Thus it gains a wider freedom of investiga- 
 tion at the expense of a limitation of freedom of teaching. 
 The rise of modern democracy meant first the laissez Jaire the- 
 ory of government. According to this conception, the school 
 gained theoretical freedom of teaching, but since it was left 
 dependent on private patronage, this freedom was unable to 
 become effectual in any large way. The further evolution of 
 democracy has led to the view that government should interest 
 itself positively in providing for the welfare of its citizens. 
 This notion has involved especially the endeavor to provide 
 equality of educational opportunity for children. In carry- 
 ing out this view the state seems in the act of creating a school 
 with complete academic freedom, that is, recognized au- 
 thority over the curriculum and methods of teaching, power 
 to determine who shall teach, power to compel attendance and 
 to dispose of school finances, and adequate support for its 
 great work.
 
 468 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Academic 
 freedom as 
 a source of 
 irresponsi- 
 bility in 
 education 
 
 Consequent 
 isolation, 
 loss of vi- 
 tality, and 
 selfishness 
 in the 
 school 
 
 SECTION 51. Interdependence of the school and society 
 
 It is evident that the powers which academic freedom has 
 been shown to imply need limitation in order not to involve a 
 preposterous independence on the part of the school. The 
 school should be independent of the rest of society just in so far 
 as that independence is necessary in order to insure its most 
 effective service to the individual. On the other hand, a degree 
 of dependence should exist in order that the school may be 
 kept to this service. In a general way, society has always 
 been alert to this situation. Academic freedom has many ad- 
 vances to make before it is likely to place the school in an 
 irresponsible position, and, doubtless, the checks that are 
 wont to surround each new addition to its power and liberty 
 will adequately protect the public against educational tyr- 
 any. 
 
 The serious dangers that the rise of academic freedom in- 
 volves fall under three headings. The school may become 
 isolated from practical life and unresponsive to its demands. 
 It may become too mechanical in its organization and work, 
 thus ceasing to display vital growth. Finally, it may come 
 to be run in the interest of the teachers, rather than in that 
 of the children. 
 
 These phases of degeneracy because of power are, in a 
 sense, distinct from each other. The school may isolate itself 
 without becoming mechanical or even selfish. Mechanism 
 may impair the progressiveness of institutions that aim for 
 the sake of service to keep in close touch with the utilities of 
 life. Lastly, self-interest may be a dominant motive in schools 
 that study well the times in order to conform to popular no- 
 tions or powerful interests, rather than to discover the best 
 method of serving the welfare of the young. On the other 
 hand, these three evils all tend to involve each other, and a
 
 The Evolution of the School 469 
 
 school developing independence on account of resources and a 
 prestige that makes it a great power in social control may 
 easily lose its touch with the interests it should serve, and 
 become incrusted by conservatism and selfishness. 
 
 In order to insure the prevention of this result, it is neces- Proper divi- 
 sary, of course, to limit the independence of the school. The authority 
 school and the community must be made interdependent, between 
 and the principle of this relation is to be found in a division of and1x>ards 
 
 power. Practice in this matter seems to be drifting toward an 
 arrangement which leaves to those in the profession of teaching 
 the task of planning all specific measures that relate to the 
 organization, the program, and the teaching of the school, and 
 assigns to authorities outside the profession a power of vetoing 
 such plans or of choosing among submitted alternatives, 
 together with some responsibility for criticism or suggestion 
 in regard to existing or proposed conditions. Such an ar- 
 rangement should, undoubtedly, apply literally to the control 
 of the curriculum and methods of teaching. Here it is quite Application 
 certain that, while the community as a whole, and especially principle 
 such trustees as are appointed to exercise oversight over the W ! 3 the 
 work of the school, should be empowered to veto any pro- work of 
 posed plan, and should feel it their duty to watch, criticise, and 
 advise the school, still the definite initiation and the detailed 
 formulation of plans should be intrusted to those whose busi- 
 ness it is to carry these out if they be adopted. 
 
 When we come to the appointment of teachers, the applica- (2) to the 
 tion of our principle may be seen in the generally prevailing ^t of" 
 requirement that they should be certificated or licensed on teachers 
 the basis of qualifications that are tested by those in the pro- 
 fession. Such an arrangement still leaves great liberty of 
 choice to the controlling boards composed of laymen. How- 
 ever, the tendency is rapidly growing to intrust to super- 
 intendents, principals, or presidents the power of nominating
 
 470 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Reversai of 
 
 executive 
 
 Possible 
 
 giving the 
 teachers a 
 
 share in 
 
 suchap- 
 pomtments 
 
 teachers and of assigning them to their specific work, thus 
 leaving to the lay board, so far as subordinate appointments are 
 concerned, the sole duty of approval or rejection of the nomi- 
 nations made. In addition, however, they usually possess the 
 P ower f selecting the leading administrative officers. This 
 power is in turn limited in various ways. First, it is prac- 
 tically necessary to have the approval of excellent professional 
 judgment in selecting these officers. To-day a system of edu- 
 cational credentials has grown up, which practically constrains, 
 not only lay boards, but also administrative school officials, 
 to conform in the making of appointments to the verdict of at 
 least a respectable body of opinion among the teachers them- 
 selves. Second, the teachers in some schools exercise certain 
 direct powers in reference to the appointment of their chief 
 executives. In the German University, for example, the 
 rector, or in case the head of the principality possesses that 
 official title, the acting rector or prorector, is really selected 
 by the members of the faculty, the state authorities possessing 
 the right only of refusing to confirm this appointment. It 
 must be noted that the professors are not selected by the rec- 
 tor, but by the government, usually, however, on the advice of 
 the faculty or of its representatives. 
 
 It is possible that a governing head having the general re- 
 sponsibility and authority of the American president, principal, 
 or superintendent is, on the whole, most favorable to a compre- 
 
 . . , . 
 
 hensive, impartial, and progressive policy in the school. On 
 jj^ o ^ ner hand, it seems equally certain that such an officer 
 should be, in some measure, subject to the judgment of the 
 teachers whom he commands. Two methods of bringing 
 about this result are available. Either these officers may be 
 in the beginning nominated by the teachers, or they may be 
 subject to the approval of those whom they are to direct. In 
 the former case, the teachers may nominate one or a number of
 
 The Evolution of the School 471 
 
 candidates, and the governing board exercise in the one case 
 a confirming, in the other, a selecting, power. The first ar- 
 rangement would preserve the principle hitherto laid down in 
 regard to the division of functions between professionals and 
 laymen. It would, doubtless, seem to most like putting the 
 school too much in the hands of the teachers. Moreover, it is 
 possible that the plan would lead to improper intrigues among 
 them. On the other hand, it should not be forgotten that 
 where lay boards have entire control of this matter intrigues 
 and unprofessional influences have all too frequently deter- 
 mined the choice of school officers. But whatever may be 
 said of the ultimate desirability of having the teachers nominate 
 their executive heads, it would seem that the time is ripe for 
 at least a limited application of the other plan by which the 
 appointment of administrative officers through lay boards 
 would require the confirmation of the teachers in the school 
 they are to conduct. It is likely also that a considerable 
 majority of these teachers should be able to remove their 
 executive officers. 
 
 It may seem absurd to think of such a plan as applying to Difficulty in 
 our elementary schools. And it must be confessed that the 
 
 youth and immaturity of many of the teachers in these insti- to eiement- 
 tutions, coupled with the fact that they are to such an over- 
 whelming extent women, a large number of whom are soon 
 removed from the profession by marriage, makes the problem 
 here especially difficult. It is safe to say that with the cur- 
 rent belief in the need of discipline among the rank and file, 
 no body of teachers will be intrusted with the power of con- 
 firming the appointment of educational executives unless their 
 training and quality are clearly such as to make this provi- 
 sion an advantage to the school. Such would seem to be the 
 case with colleges and universities and with many secondary 
 schools.
 
 472 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 De facto in- 
 fluence of 
 teachers in 
 the ap- 
 pointment 
 of execu- 
 tives 
 
 The issue in 
 compul- 
 sory edu- 
 cation 
 
 Objections to 
 compelling 
 attendance 
 
 Meanwhile, it is clear that, although the teachers are not 
 officially intrusted with the power of confirming the appoint- 
 ments of their chiefs, or of removing them when objectionable, 
 nevertheless, they do in practice exercise this function in 
 exactly that degree to which they give expression to opinions 
 which are held by the community to be of weight. No board 
 of trustees would venture to appoint or to retain an executive 
 officer against the judgment of a body of teachers whose ver- 
 dict was regarded as mature and impartial. The only ad- 
 vantage that the official power of confirmation or removal 
 would have would arise from the fact that it would tend to 
 disabuse both the teachers and the community of the notion 
 that such a matter is not the concern of any but the govern- 
 ing boards. This attitude reduces the school to a business in 
 which the teachers are merely employees. There can be no 
 question that this situation is bad for teachers, for community, 
 and for school. The school is not this sort of a business. It 
 is a cooperative enterprise the sole aim of which is the welfare 
 of humanity through education. In such an enterprise the 
 principles of democracy, on the one hand, and of the control of 
 expert opinion, on the other, are paramount. 
 
 When we come to compulsory education, the issue is not be- 
 tween teachers on the one hand and boards of trustees on the 
 other, but rather between the school and the individual, whether 
 parent or child. The necessity of compelling the child to 
 attend school for a certain length of time in order to avoid the 
 evil consequences of forces over which he has no control has 
 already been emphasized. Parental poverty or neglect or 
 the ignorance of both parent and child produces results for 
 which the child should not have to suffer. Hence the school 
 should endeavor to prevent by force these consequences. 
 
 The chief objections to compulsory education are that it is 
 an unwarrantable interference with the liberty of the individual,
 
 The Evolution of the School 473 
 
 and that only that education which is freely sought is of any 
 value. The first objection is, of course, answered by the con- 
 sideration that compulsory education interferes only with the 
 parent's right to abuse the child, or with the child's right to 
 abuse himself before he has arrived at years of discretion. 
 The second objection is more important, and upon it can be 
 based the principle that should govern the limits of compulsory 
 education. 
 
 The school has, in general, tried to bring about universal Attendance 
 education by two methods, by making attendance compulsory 
 and by rendering its work attractive. The latter is the one and by 
 more generally resorted to in the United States, where com- 
 pulsory attendance laws are usually poorly enforced. Euro- 
 pean states have not hesitated to resort to effective compul- 
 sion, and it may be said that in the present condition of society 
 this course is desirable. The school cannot be made attrac- 
 tive enough to entice some children without at the same time 
 losing much of its educational virility. Moreover, the en- Necessity of 
 deavor to do all by attractiveness may lead to " soft pedagogy," 
 to education that makes the child passive and dependent 
 rather than active and efficient. On the other hand, no school 
 work can be regarded as very seriously worth while unless it 
 comes to be valued by the recipient. The justification of com- 
 pulsion lies in the fact that it may and frequently does lead to 
 appreciation. Families that resist education may, under the 
 pressure of a sense of its inevitability, reconcile themselves to 
 it, and come to feel its worth. The state can impress upon its 
 people the desirability of education most quickly and effectively 
 by compelling them to try it. There can be no question that 
 compulsory education tends to destroy its own necessity, 
 and that its practice on any large scale is merely a policy for 
 a transition. 
 
 Thus we are led to the principle that should determine the
 
 474 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The limits 
 of effective 
 education 
 by com- 
 pulsion 
 
 Extension of 
 the age 
 limit of 
 compul- 
 sory edu- 
 cation 
 
 Desirability 
 of making 
 it variable 
 
 limits of compulsory education. Such coercion should cease 
 when appreciation of education may be expected to begin, if 
 it is to begin at all. What the child is forced to get is of little 
 value unless it leads to a desire to get more ; and it is in this 
 culture that is freely sought that all large educational benefit 
 is to be found. Hence, the school, in relying upon the assist- 
 ance of compulsion, must not lose sight of the fact that this 
 is a merely temporary measure, and that attraction is, after 
 all, the only ultimately effective educational motive. When 
 the child has reached an age at which it can fairly accurately 
 be said that both he and the school know whether they should 
 have anything more to do with each other, compulsory educa- 
 tion should cease. 
 
 The determination of this age is, of course, a matter of practi- 
 cal experience, but it may be noted that as the curriculum 
 expands to include vocational training, and especially as 
 secondary education comes to be devoted more systematically 
 and resourcefully to the task of helping the student to find 
 himself, 1 the period of compulsory education may well be 
 extended. Such is, indeed, the tendency ; for example, the 
 compulsory attendance on continuation schools in Germany, 
 and the extending of the age of compulsion beyond fourteen 
 in some American states. A pupil may, before he has by any 
 means exploited the resources of the school, ignorantly decide 
 that this institution has nothing for him. As the educational 
 resources expand to meet all or nearly all types of ability, the 
 school has a right to insist that at least an attempt shall be made 
 by the pupil to discover and to utilize what is prepared for 
 him. Coercion may frequently be valuable as an aid to ade- 
 quate experimentation in various lines of work. 
 
 Finally, it is probable that the length of time during which 
 attendance should be compulsory is not the same for all chil- 
 
 1 On the function of secondary education, compare 53.
 
 TJie Evolution of the School 
 
 475 
 
 dren. To keep a boy in school after it is certain that he can 
 receive no benefit from it is an absurd tyranny. On the other 
 hand, it is evident that many children want to leave school 
 long before they have received from it the proper cultivation 
 of their talents. It should be within the power of the educa- 
 tional authorities to release some from the obligation of attend- 
 ance with which others are forced to comply. The age limit 
 of coercion should, therefore, like the modern criminal sentence, 
 become somewhat indeterminate ; or, to push the parallel 
 further, be stated as a maximum capable of being reduced at 
 the discretion of the school authorities. 
 
 In regard to the distribution of school finances, we find that 
 our general principle applies fairly completely. The fixing 
 of the scale of salaries and of the relative amounts that should 
 be devoted to this or that educational purpose are being left 
 more and more to the executive officers of the school, the boards 
 of trustees exercising merely the functions of approval or 
 rejection. So, too, the school officers are expected to indicate 
 what they regard as adequate school appropriations, trusting 
 to the wise economy of the taxing authorities to see that their 
 estimates are properly cut down. 
 
 It is evident that academic freedom, when it is interpreted 
 as the freedom of interdependence, is, so far from being a source 
 of danger, the true panacea for the perils that are supposed 
 to be its result. The supremacy of expert opinion, safe- 
 guarded by the need of obtaining for it the approval of the 
 representatives of society, means, not the isolation of the 
 school, but mutual respect and support between it and the 
 community. The attention of the teachers is being continually 
 centered upon the needs of the community, which they must 
 strive to meet in order to win the support of their governing 
 boards. On the other hand, the boards, limited in their powers 
 to a consideration of the plans of educational experts, will 
 
 Application 
 of the prin- 
 ciple of 
 division of 
 power to 
 control of 
 school 
 finances 
 
 The freedom 
 of inter- 
 depend- 
 ence as 
 the basis of 
 effective 
 education
 
 476 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Function of 
 the school 
 in religion 
 and morals 
 primarily 
 that of 
 clarifying 
 intelligence 
 
 become more keenly aware that education is a science deserv- 
 ing of professional study, and yielding far greater results if 
 submitted to trained intelligence than if held to the traditions 
 and the common sense of those who devote to it only incidental 
 attention. Under such conditions the school will be not only 
 differentiated and free, but it will be suffered to absorb more 
 and more under its control those educational functions that 
 have been withheld from it by church or family or state. There 
 can be little doubt that much more religious culture may profit- 
 ably be given in the school than is the case at present. The 
 time will undoubtedly come when all denominations will wel- 
 come the assistance of the secular school in fostering both reli- 
 gious intelligence and religious attitudes. So, too, the family, 
 the principal source of moral culture, will be grateful for a more 
 serious attempt on the part of the school to arouse in the 
 child a sense of the various duties of life ; and the state will 
 find the civic intelligence and responsibility of its citizens 
 developed and strengthened by a more careful study in the 
 school of the mechanism and issues of politics and govern- 
 ment. 
 
 In this larger sphere the school must, of course, act in the 
 spirit of science and reason, uttering dogmatically only what 
 has been conclusively proved, and setting forth alternative 
 views with the greatest freedom. Nor can it hope to take 
 the place either of church or family in connection either with 
 the religious or with the moral life. Its essential function is 
 the clarification of intelligence, whereas the church and the 
 family are centers for carrying out in a practical way religious 
 and moral attitudes. But it is not to be supposed that this 
 fact excludes the school from taking account of the significance 
 of religious faith or of self-sacrifice. If these are permanent 
 elements in human culture, they must be capable of support 
 from a frank and incisive examination of facts and reasons.
 
 The Evolution of the School 477 
 
 Indeed, so far is it from being true that rationalism is the 
 parent of irreligion and individual selfishness, that only through 
 rationalism can they hope to save themselves. It is true that 
 reason has been a dangerous enemy of faith that strives to 
 maintain itself at the expense of reason, just as it has of social 
 rights and duties that serve only to sustain the privileges of a 
 class. But if, in its iconoclasm, reason has seemed to go to 
 the extreme of atheism and anarchy, it is no less true that the 
 remedy for the dangers of rationalism is more rationalism. 
 In any event, the consequences of rationalism are a burden 
 that mankind will have to bear, and any institution that re- 
 serves its fundamental principles from the criticism of the 
 school because of its fear of the logical attitudes assumed 
 by that institution will, by such a policy, ultimately destroy 
 its prestige and influence.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE FUNCTION OF THE SCHOOL 
 
 SECTION 52. The examination conception oj education 
 
 The function THE school may be defined as the institution through which 
 
 school as a commun ity consciously endeavors to transmit to the young 
 
 selection their social heredity. It began with the humble function of 
 
 dividuais handing on literacy and uncritical tradition, but it constantly 
 
 according grew in influence, extent of culture, and independence until it 
 
 to social .11 til. 
 
 fitness, (2) has come, as we have seen, practically to control the educative 
 of the mat- f unc tion. In the course of that evolution it has performed 
 
 terof social 
 
 heredity two kinds of service. The first is that of selecting or testing 
 individuals according to the standards of society ; the second 
 is that of selecting from among the available materials for edu- 
 cation that which is regarded as most adapted to the training 
 of all or of each. The function of selecting individuals for 
 society gives rise to the examination conception of education. 
 The individual is tested, it may be once, or, as is more common, 
 at various stages, or, perhaps, continuously during childhood 
 in order to ascertain his fitness for society in general, or for 
 official position, or to determine his relative rank or reputation, 
 or his special aptitude for this or that pursuit. Society finds 
 in conscious education an agency for social control, and the 
 first task of control is that of selecting, grading, and assigning 
 to each the status that most conserves the interests of society 
 as a whole, or of the governing classes. The second function, 
 that of determining the nature of the training of each, is, 
 indeed, not separated from the function of examination, but is, 
 
 478
 
 The Function of the School 
 
 479 
 
 like the 
 environ- 
 ment in be- 
 ing not 
 creative 
 but selec- 
 tive of 
 power 
 
 nevertheless, distinct from it, and should be dealt with apart. 
 It is of small importance so long as the materials of culture are 
 meager, but becomes of vital significance when these materials 
 accumulate so that a struggle for existence arises among them. 
 
 It may be objected that the view that the function of the The school 
 school is selective places the emphasis on aspects that are 
 merely negative or incidental, and neglects the fundamental 
 function, which some may hold to be a positive one, and to 
 consist either in actually transmitting to the young the social 
 heredity that they need, or in cultivating to a state of efficiency 
 their powers. In reply, it may be said that these supposedly 
 positive effects of education are in reality negative or selective 
 in character. Throughout the preceding discussions it has 
 been constantly maintained that all positive growth comes 
 from within. The powers of the individual emerge from po- 
 tentialities the mystery of which cannot in the least be traced 
 to the environmental conditions that determine their survival. 
 The education of the individual, so far as this is to be regarded 
 as a process of external determination of his development, is 
 merely selective. This power is suffered to expand, that one 
 is eliminated. The school merely constitutes an environment 
 favoring the growth of certain tendencies and the suppression 
 of others. This selective function is, indeed, of great impor- 
 tance. We have seen that it everywhere constitutes the func- 
 tion of the environment. When assumed by the individual, 
 it takes the form of feeling and judgment. It characterizes 
 the mode of operation of such educative processes as imitation 
 and the use of language. Through these forms it so enormously 
 facilitates the progress of the individual toward efficiency that 
 it is not surprising that they should seem like positive sources 
 of growth, rather than merely as permissive or directive 
 agencies. Nevertheless, they are such, and the school, as the 
 institution that constitutes the typical expression of the edu-
 
 480 Principles of Education 
 
 cative function, is fundamentally an instrumentality by which 
 the function of selection in individual development may, so 
 far as it is exercised by society, be specialized and controlled. 
 The function of selecting or grading the young is a very old 
 one in the history of social control. So long as society was weak 
 and the conditions of individual life insecure, parental and 
 social fosterage were capable of saving only those children who 
 possessed superiority of physical and mental endowment. 
 Increase in social efficiency, as has been seen, tends to eliminate 
 the influence of natural selection. The weak, the inefficient 
 are preserved, owing to the strength of the social bond. On 
 the other hand, such consequences tend to diminish the total 
 efficiency of society, with the result that the community that 
 is too kind to its own finds itself at a disadvantage in the 
 Rise of social struggle for existence with sterner communities. In order 
 children 1 that a commun ity m ^y preserve its efficiency, while at the same 
 infanticide time its moral code continues to antagonize that great though 
 terrible ally of organic health, natural selection, new counter- 
 agencies must be invented. A prominent one is infanticide, 
 quite commonly practiced among primitive men or in early 
 civilizations. Through this means society is rid of superfluous 
 young. The burden of the support of any save those that are 
 necessary to ensure the continuance of the tribe is removed. 
 Perhaps the females may be the ones selected for destruction, 
 the group relying on stealing its wives from some other race, 
 a method made practicable because of its greater' efficiency 
 in war. Such conditions are held to give rise to exogamy. 1 
 In some cases the community may keep alive just enough wo- 
 men to ensure the continuance of the stock. This practice 
 is, doubtless, widespread, and probably finds at least partial 
 exemplification in China. Where male as well as female 
 infanticide prevails, there may be a careful selection for sur- 
 
 1 Compare M'Lennan, Primitive Marriage.
 
 The Function of the School 481 
 
 vival of those physically well endowed, the rest being aban- 
 doned, as at Sparta. 
 
 Infanticide sanctioned by the moral standards of the people Social selec- 
 is perfectly consistent with a high degree of fosterage and e^dL^o 
 culture of those children who are allowed to live. Such con- adoies- 
 scious selection for survival is, doubtless, a more constant 
 factor for improving the stock than is natural selection, at any 
 rate so far as external and easily observed characteristics are 
 concerned. It constitutes the most primitive exercise of the 
 selective function that society displays. A second example 
 of such activity is to be found in the special exercises of adoles- 
 cence. Here society determines the fitness of the young man 
 or woman for admission to adult membership. Such selection 
 becomes especially significant when society develops offices 
 and rank. Here the prize of the manhood examination may 
 be a sort of a patent of nobility. In the case of the Athenians 
 this examination involved an investigation into parentage, 
 since rank depended largely on birth as well as on individual 
 qualifications. With more primitive peoples leadership may 
 depend on the ordeal, as with the Indians of Columbia and the 
 Caribs. 1 The public educational system of China is a highly 
 developed memory ordeal, to pass which men may spend a 
 lifetime in study. For those who are successful in these exami- 
 nations there are the rewards of aristocratic honors and privi- 
 leges and official position with its natural consequence, wealth. 
 
 The sort of selection that we have so far discussed may, Eiimmative 
 perhaps, be properly called eliminative selection. The indi- J^ntiau 
 vidual who fails is by it shut out from certain prizes, life, i ***<*- 
 
 ...... ,..i /v -r tion i *& 
 
 citizenship, honors and privileges, office. It aims to separate U cationai 
 the approved from those less fortunate, and in some cases to 
 grade those who succeed. The Republic of Plato sets forth a 
 scheme which involves an endeavor to segregate men on the 
 
 1 Compare Letourneau, L'Evoltttion d* Education. 
 21
 
 482 Principles of Education 
 
 basis of the sort of talent that they display. Differentiation 
 thus becomes something more than mere grading. It is true, 
 Plato places the learned class at the top, followed by the mili- 
 tary class, and they in turn by the commercial and industrial 
 class. Moreover, he would determine those who are to be 
 in the lower orders by their lack of the intelligence or of the 
 spirit that enables one to be a sage or a warrior. On the other 
 hand, he gives us the hint that these lower classes have special 
 abilities. They are not merely to be characterized as lacking 
 in something. They have positive virtues in which they excel. 
 The determination of these may well be a purpose of education, 
 and such selection we may call differentiating rather than elim- 
 inative. It aims not so much to grade, as to find out that for 
 which each is especially fitted. It takes account of the fact 
 that men differ not merely in degree, but also in kind of talent. 
 An adequate method for differentiating selection is undoubtedly 
 one of the great desiderata in modern education. 
 
 Eliminative Eliminative selection has not disappeared from the modern 
 selection m sc h oo } i The old-fashioned classical course was an admirable 
 
 the modern 
 
 school, in- agency for separating the intellectually weak from the intel- 
 oHtsTests Actually strong. Those who accuse it of having accomplished 
 of ability no other service cannot deny that it offered to those who 
 might wish to know a fair rating of the mental power and per- 
 severance of the pupil. Some such rating is, of course, neces- 
 sary, if the community is to employ intelligently the services 
 of the individual. On the other hand, the judgment of the 
 school, as based on the power to master Latin, Greek, and 
 mathematics, is frequently at fault, and the community has 
 come to discount it. The conviction exists that success may 
 be gained by many kinds of ability which these subjects do 
 not test. Moreover, just as the one who fails in school may 
 
 1 Compare Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Ch. IX, " The Influence of 
 Selection."
 
 The Function of the School 483 
 
 succeed in life, so the one who succeeds in school may fail in 
 life. Some qualities quite essential to independent enterprise 
 this old-fashioned curriculum took no pains to call into ques- 
 tion. 
 Thus while the rating of the school has value, it is by no School tests 
 
 means a certain index to the uses of those who have been sub- ,^ oul f be 
 
 like those 
 
 jected to it. The main difficulty lies in the fact that the work of life 
 used to test ability is not the same in character as that in which 
 this ability will later on prove useful. It is evident that the 
 course of study best adapted to offer a reliable ranking of its 
 students is one that best prepares them for the careers in which 
 their powers are to be employed. The school that can examine 
 most accurately is the one that educates most efficiently. 
 The function of eliminating or grading selection should there- 
 fore be subordinated to that of education, not merely because 
 culture is more important than valuation, but also because 
 effective valuation can best be obtained as a by-product of 
 effective culture. 
 
 A school that prepares well for life is not only most reliable Differen- 
 in grading its pupils, but also most capable of differentiating 
 them. This function of determining the special aptitudes and more im - 
 tastes of the child as a basis for th> selection of his calling is [han^iim- 
 undoubtedly far more important for the community, as well at 
 as for the child, than is that of giving him a rating in general 
 ability. To help the individual "to find himself," although 
 it has been vaguely in the minds of teachers for ages, is now first 
 coming to be recognized as worthy to be made a conscious 
 aim of the school, if, indeed, it should not be fundamental 
 in certain phases of school work. There can be little doubt 
 that the teachers have emphasized altogether too much the 
 business of grading and determining relative rank, and alto- 
 gether too little that of differentiating the children on the basis 
 of their specific aptitudes.
 
 484 Principles of Education 
 
 The reason The causes of this are not difficult to discern. Our course 
 ne lee* in ^ s t u( ty nas un til the latter part of the nineteenth century 
 the United been barren on the vocational side. This feature is still largely 
 undeveloped. Moreover, the liberal course of study in the 
 United States is a heterogeneous compound, put together on 
 the idea that public education in a democracy should provide 
 for all equally and give to each the best. This has been inter- 
 preted to mean that we should give all the same education, 
 and that this should be one which aims at careers of political 
 or social leadership, at the learned professions and aristo- 
 cratic life. We have avoided the European system, where the 
 elementary school is for the common people, and completes 
 their education, but does not lead into the secondary school, 
 which is for the aristocracy and the professional classes. 
 Instead, we have been building up our boasted "continuous 
 ladder," where elementary school leads into high school, and 
 this in turn into college. Our system does not, like the Euro- 
 pean one, differentiate children on the basis of parentage, but 
 rather on that of ability. On the other hand, since it leads 
 designedly toward the learned professions, it merely eliminates 
 those not fitted for such a career. We give a far better chance 
 than does Europe for the lad of humble birth to become a pro- 
 fessional man, but we do not so carefully see to it that the lad 
 of humble talent shall be able to find his calling and prepare for 
 it. If the pupil cannot profit from the excellent training that 
 we provide, we simply drop him out and let him go his way. 
 In recent years the problems of elimination of pupils from 
 the upper grades of the grammar school and the high school, 
 and of providing more adequate vocational training, have come 
 to the front. This widespread interest practically insures an 
 adequate provision for vocational instruction at no very distant 
 day. In the meantime, it will be necessary to reconstruct our 
 continuous ladder so that it will lead naturally and easily into
 
 The Function of the School 
 
 485 
 
 school 
 guidance 
 in the se- 
 lection of 
 a specialty 
 
 whatever vocational instruction a child is best fitted to under- 
 take. The mere existence of educational facilities for all 
 vocations does not mean that children will properly select the 
 work they choose to do. If the school does not undertake Need of 
 the task of providing intelligent guidance in the matter, it 
 will be left largely to chance. The student of fair ability is 
 apt to become interested in the work that is first called to his 
 attention, and, if no broader experience be given, he may 
 continue to specialize therein, when there are many other 
 occupations in which he might have shown superior skill, 
 had the proper measures been taken to evoke his interest in 
 them. A system that trusts to the preferences of the students 
 in the selection of specialized training is liable to the common 
 criticism on the elective system, that it puts in place of the 
 experience of age the whims of callow youth. That these are 
 unreliable in choosing a career is certain. They are not entirely 
 trustworthy in selecting a wife. It is not merely that the pleas- 
 ure-loving child avoids many severer lines of training that are 
 necessary or valuable as a preparation for any manner of life, 
 but rather that what he prefers is a result of a mere caprice, 
 and is not determined by a thorough exploitation of his abil- 
 ities and interests. 
 
 We may say, then, that the function of the school is primarily summary 
 selective. It selects or examines the child with reference to 
 social service, and selects the features of social heredity that 
 can most wisely be retained. The function of examination 
 takes two forms. It may be either eliminative, or grading, 
 selection or differentiating selection. Eliminative selection 
 excludes some and admits others to social protection, citizen- 
 ship, privileges, honors, offices, etc. This service is apparently 
 a necessary one. However, it can be best performed by a 
 school which effectively prepares for all the forms of adult 
 activity through which success can be gained. Such a school
 
 486 Principles of Education 
 
 is in a position to undertake the far more important task of 
 differentiating selection, i.e., of helping the individual to 
 enter into that vocation which is best suited to his abilities. 
 Our own educational system needs to become less one of elimina- 
 tive and more one of differentiating selection. This requires 
 not only that it should offer in rich profusion courses prepara- 
 tory to all phases of life, but also that a special phase of school 
 life should be devoted to the task of helping the pupil "to find 
 himself." 
 
 SECTION 53. The function of secondary education 
 
 Primary It is evident that the European method of trusting to hered- 
 
 &y to determine the vocation is more likely to result in a proper 
 
 education selection than the mere chance decision of the inexperienced 
 
 that of dif- i M i -rr i i 
 
 ferentiat- child. If our democratic education is really to do justice to 
 ing selec- ^g individual and to make for the highest efficiency of society, 
 it must attend carefully to the task of " putting the round pegs 
 in the round holes and the square pegs in the square holes." 
 It will be the contention of this discussion that the problem 
 of determining the career of the child is the primary function 
 of what is known as secondary education. The considerations 
 that lead to this conclusion are partly psychological and partly 
 historical. 
 
 Psychological From the point of view of psychology, it may be said that the 
 secondary school is the school of the adolescent, and that 
 adolescence is the time for choosing one's life work. We have 
 already indicated x that this period may be called an age of 
 independence, as contrasted with the epoch of elementary 
 education, which may be called an age of rivalry. During 
 this earlier period the coercive pressure of society becomes 
 the all-powerful influence. Judgment is continually exercised 
 
 1 Compare 46.
 
 The Function of the Softool 487 
 
 upon the problem of meeting the approval of this or that indi- 
 vidual or social group. But with growing experience the child 
 becomes aware of different standards, different ideals. Society 
 does not constitute a unit in its judgments. Among these 
 varying standards the child must choose, and the sense of this 
 task, and that it devolves upon himself, ushers in the age of 
 independence, or intellectual adolescence. This period usually 
 dawns at the time when physiological adolescence is in its 
 beginnings. If we apply these considerations to the school, 
 it would seem that during the age of rivalry the child should The ae of 
 be given those essentials, whether in the way of habits or 
 information, that society demands of each. This includes the uniformity 
 three "R's," expanded to meet the demands of modern life. 
 The extent to which the child will at this age submit to social 
 pressure makes it preeminently a time for drill, for uniformity, 
 and for fundamentals. This does not mean that elementary 
 school work should depend entirely, or even largely, upon such 
 pressure. It should be as full of immediate interest as it can 
 be made. It should be as rich in broad content studies and 
 in appeals to the special tastes of children and of the particular 
 child as is consistent with its fundamental function of giving 
 the indispensable. This last it must do, not merely because 
 the indispensable comes first, but because the age of elementary 
 education is an age of struggle to conform, when results that 
 must be obtained can, if no other way lies open, usually be 
 gained by bringing to bear upon the child the approval or dis- 
 approval of those who have him in charge. 
 
 It is unfortunate if the child grows restive and critical of 
 this school pressure before he has gained the fundamentals. 
 For in that event he is likely never to master them. The 
 critical spirit is born of a sense of varying standards of judg- 
 ment, and of independence in insisting on one's own inclina- 
 tions or ideals. It is the natural and desirable spirit for the
 
 488 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Adolescence 
 the time 
 for experi- 
 menting 
 toward a 
 specialty 
 
 child who is finishing the task of mastering the uniformities 
 of social heredity and entering upon that of specialization. 
 Its appearance should therefore normally introduce a new sort 
 of school work, work submitted to the judgment of the pupil 
 rather than enforced upon him. The elementary school pre- 
 sents its work and strives to cultivate interest in it, but there 
 is no suggestion that this work is subject to the approval of 
 those who take it. 
 
 At the coming of adolescence, of the age of independence, 
 the child should be ready to undertake the task of experiment- 
 ing in the various special lines of activity that it appears pos- 
 sible for him to enter. During this age of "storm and stress" 
 the youth is apt to run rapidly from this to that ambition. 
 Many things appeal, and it is, doubtless, well that he should 
 absorb himself in various phases of human activity. Thus 
 he is not only broadened in outlook and sympathy, but is also 
 given that experience from which alone a satisfactory choice 
 of a plan of life can be made. The period over which the pro- 
 cess of experimentation should extend varies with the intel- 
 lectual ability of the individual. Those of greater ability will, 
 doubtless, as a rule take a longer time to choose, inasmuch 
 as they are capable of entering upon vocations that involve a 
 more elaborate training. Since they cannot test their fitness 
 for these higher specialties without doing a little experimental 
 work in the studies that fit for them, the more advanced the 
 specialty, the longer the period over which the work prelimi- 
 nary to the final differentiation must extend. 
 
 It follows that, if we designate as secondary all that phase 
 of education which is devoted to the problem of differentiating 
 students according to their special talents, it extends over a 
 much longer period than is commonly supposed, and covers 
 phases of school work that are generally regarded as elementary 
 and higher. Moreover, since differentiation is not a simple
 
 The Function of the Sclwol 489 
 
 affair, to be accomplished at one step, but is rather a result of 
 successive selections, each narrowing somewhat the field of 
 choice, secondary education may include various schools, 
 the function of which may be said to be that of secondary dif- 
 ferentiation. Primary differentiation we may define as the 
 separation of the intellectually capable from those who are 
 mediocre or weak in respect to mental power and perseverance. 
 After six years' work in the elementary school, it is usually Secondary 
 possible to rate a pupil fairly well in general mental ability, ^"uw'bc 
 It is, therefore, possible to separate those who should go on in g>n after 
 the severer linguistic, scientific, and mathematical work of the Sioof h 
 traditional secondary school from those who might safely be y** 1 
 expected to fail in them. These weaker minds have ordinarily 
 been eliminated from school during the last two years of the 
 prevailing eight years' elementary course, or, at any rate, 
 early in the high school course. 1 It is evident that a secondary The lowest 
 school is necessary which shall introduce them into the kinds ^deof 
 
 secondary 
 
 of work of which they are capable, and lead them to a point at school. 
 which they can intelligently select some special trade or occu- Jrai school 
 pation, which they may enter by the route of vocational school <> f industry 
 or apprenticeship. Such a school might well give a certain 
 amount of liberal culture, that should broaden its students 
 as much as their abilities permit, and train them in civic life. 
 
 This lowest grade of secondary school corresponds fairly Second grade 
 well to the general industrial or trade schools that are coming ary 
 
 into existence to-day. They do not aim to prepare for voca- 
 tions, but merely to introduce to such preparation. Nor are 
 they high schools in the proper sense of the term, since they 
 do not give any adequate preparation for college. The typical 
 high school represents the second grade of secondary school. 
 There is good reason for supposing that its work might properly 
 
 1 Compare The Elimination of Pupils from School: Thorndike ; U. S. Bureau 
 of Ed., Bulletin No. 4, 1907.
 
 490 Principles of Education 
 
 begin after the sixth school year. In that event, the elemen- 
 tary course for all would cover six years. The primary task 
 of the high school should be to determine whether the student 
 may or may not wisely aim to reach one of the higher profes- 
 sions. Certain subjects, languages, civics, science, and math- 
 ematics, which form the substance of the prevailing high school 
 course, will serve as tests of those sorts of ability without 
 which, it may justly be said, no student can properly qualify 
 for any learned or scientific profession. Those who are elim- 
 inated as a result of failure in these subjects should find in 
 the high school such courses as will give them the proper foun- 
 dation for selecting a vocational school in which to complete 
 their education. It may be assumed that they will drift 
 into the intermediate positions in trade and industry. To 
 supply their need, therefore, the high school should present 
 work of the manual training and commercial type. 
 
 Highest The completion of the college preparatory course does not 
 
 grade of or ^ nose wno are t o en ter the higher professions conclude their 
 
 secondary 
 
 school. - work 'of experimental study. For it yet remains to select the 
 lege a special profession. Very few high school graduates are in a 
 position to decide this. Very many have as yet decidedly 
 hazy ideas about what they wish to do. The traditional col- 
 lege course is, properly speaking, a secondary course, at least 
 in its earlier years. If it be held that such a course is necessary 
 as a preliminary to a choice of a profession, the secondary 
 course leading to this sphere of life would cover eight years, 
 four in the high school and four in the college. It will be noted, 
 however, that, since two years are cut from the present elemen- 
 tary course, the entire period of training up to the time of enter- 
 ing the professional school is two years shorter than it is at 
 present for those who take the college course. On the other 
 hand, the professional work, which in many institutions enters 
 quite considerably into the collegiate course, is, by virtue of its
 
 The Function of tke School 
 
 491 
 
 exclusion from secondary education, shut out from the college 
 work of the scheme here presented. 
 
 Each of these proposed divisions of secondary education, 
 the general industrial school, the high school, and the college, 
 leads into a further phase of education, that devoted to 
 specific preparation for a vocation. This we may call higher 
 education, which includes the lowest vocational schools as 
 well as those concerned in the highest professions. Thus 
 practically every child will by this plan pass through elemen- 
 tary, secondary, and higher education. All will receive the 
 same course of training in the elementary school. All will 
 get a chance to exploit their tastes and abilities in the second- 
 ary school, and all will be prepared for some specific vocation 
 in the higher school. Only by means of some such an arrange- 
 ment can the function of differentiating selection be properly 
 performed by the school, and it would seem to offer that sub- 
 stantial equality of educational opportunity which is the ideal 
 of the school in a democracy. 
 
 The characteristic feature of a school that aims at differen- 
 tiating selection is the presence of the experimental subject. 
 Such work possesses two functions. It serves to broaden the 
 horizon and to test the pupil's aptitudes. It may be assumed 
 that by far the larger part of the work that is necessary to 
 give one the breadth and catholicity of view expected of the 
 well educated is involved in such studies as also function in 
 determining one's specialty. The experimental subject will, 
 therefore, because it is necessary both for general culture and 
 as a means of "finding" one's self, be not elective but pre- 
 scribed. Thus the extent of election is diminished and that of 
 prescription is increased. Election becomes primarily selec- 
 tion of general courses of study according to preferences that 
 are based on an adequate demonstration of interests and 
 powers. Within such courses the work should be quite gen- 
 
 Function of 
 
 higher ed- 
 ucation 
 that of 
 vocational 
 training. 
 Secondary 
 and higher 
 education 
 should be 
 universal 
 
 The experi- 
 mental 
 subject as 
 charac- 
 teristic of 
 the sec- 
 ondary 
 school
 
 492 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Fields of 
 prescrip- 
 tion and 
 election 
 
 Passing and 
 honor 
 grades in 
 experi- 
 mental 
 subjects 
 
 erally prescribed. In general, therefore, prescription should 
 include (i) the fundamentals of culture indispensable to all ; 
 (2) experimental work sufficient to demonstrate the special 
 powers of the individual; and (3) the training necessary to 
 prepare for a vocation. Election should include, (i) the spe- 
 cialty which the student under the advice of the school and 
 after having completed the prescribed experimental work 
 regards as most desirable; and (2) such free electives as appeal 
 to his tastes, but lie outside the line of work which he has already 
 selected as a specialty. This second type of elective work 
 would, of course, be connected largely with the later phases 
 of secondary education or with the course in the vocational 
 school. The desirability of keeping alive broader interests 
 after the initiation of professional work proper would seem to 
 justify the requirement of a certain amount of such free elec- 
 tive work as a condition for secondary and higher degrees 
 and diplomas. 
 
 The work of the students in experimental subjects should 
 probably be graded in a special way. On the one hand, there 
 should be a standard of passing, which is sufficiently low to be 
 attained by practically every properly industrious individual 
 whose ability enables him to get on far enough to reach the 
 subject. Such a grade might be construed as permission to 
 drop the subject, whereas a failure to pass, since it implies 
 some defect in application, would mean that the subject must 
 be taken over as a condition of continuance in the school, or, at 
 least, of graduation therefrom. On the other hand, there 
 should be an honor mark, signifying such excellence as permits 
 and encourages the continuance of the recipient in more ad- 
 vanced work of the same character. Thus the marking in ex- 
 perimental work gains a practical value as a guide, and often 
 a constraining force toward the selection of the specialty for 
 which the individual is fitted.
 
 The Ftmction of tlie School 493 
 
 The history of secondary education shows a drift toward the Purposes of 
 function that we have here assigned to it. Since the Renais- ^ cond ? r > 
 
 education 
 
 sance the secondary school may be said to have had three dis- since the 
 tinct purposes, and to have dimly adumbrated a fourth. 
 First of all, it has aimed at liberal culture, then, at preparing for 
 college. Of late, it has endeavored to undertake the task of 
 preparing for life, and so of becoming to a considerable extent 
 a school for vocational training. Experience with this work has 
 led to the conviction that it should give, not vocational train- 
 ing, but rather certain foundations that underlie a number 
 of vocations. It is forced to confine its work to these because 
 its students are for the most part floundering about in search 
 of what they want, and incapable for lack of adequate ex- 
 perience of making an intelligent choice. 
 
 The secondary school began as an institution to provide (0 social 
 for the aristocracy a culture valuable for leadership and for 
 leisure. It prepared for polite social life, for diplomacy, for 
 the appreciation of literature or art or philosophy or science 
 for its own sake. All these aims are psychologically related 
 to adolescence, because at this time the growth of social interest 
 and of devotion to ideals reaches its climax. It is true that 
 the secondary programs have been so conservatively guarded 
 that they have often appeared antiquated, and to serve as little 
 more than a device to bring the youth into an intercourse that 
 has been of great value as a means of social training. Never- 
 theless, social and civic culture remains to-day one of the 
 principal functions of secondary education, and, doubtless, a 
 permanent one. The subsidiary playful activities of the stu- 
 dents will combine with a considerable part of the curriculum 
 to contribute toward this result. 
 
 In the course of time, the secondary school came to be largely (2) 
 concerned in preparing for higher institutions of learning. At 
 the Renaissance it was very imperfectly related to the uni- preparing
 
 494 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 for univer- 
 sity or col- 
 lege 
 
 Revolt 
 against 
 the pre- 
 paratory 
 school 
 ideal 
 
 (3) Rise of 
 the ideal 
 of prepar- 
 ing for 
 life 
 
 The high 
 school stu- 
 dent not 
 prepared 
 to select a 
 vocation 
 
 versity. Indeed, it was a rival institution, offering a con- 
 siderably modified course of study in response to a newly 
 developed demand on the part of the aristocracy and the 
 middle classes. The expansion of university work led the 
 secondary schools to drop into the position of preparing for 
 them. This transformation is especially in evidence in the 
 United States, where the academies and high schools, which 
 in the beginning of their history offered what seemed then 
 like a fairly complete liberal course, paralleling and in certain 
 respects even surpassing that of the college, have sunk back 
 into preparatory schools. Thus our continuous ladder has 
 been perfected, at the cost of leaving out of consideration 
 provision for differentiation. 
 
 For over a decade there has been going on a vigorous revolt 
 against this conception. The spread of the secondary schools 
 into all parts of the country, involving an enormous increase 
 in attendance, has brought before the public attention the 
 problem of satisfactory training for that vast majority of 
 high school students who do not reach the college. The high 
 rate of elimination during the first and second years of the 
 high school course suggests that the existing program does 
 not meet the needs of most of those who enter upon it. The 
 result has been the growth of an independent spirit on the part 
 of the high schools. Since the number of students who go to 
 college is small, they have come to feel that their main problem 
 is that of preparing the rest for life. They have been building 
 up courses in commerce and industry, and have drifted rapidly 
 toward vocational training. 
 
 We have seen that endeavors in this direction have been 
 compelled to submit to amendment because those entering the 
 high schools are not yet ready to select a vocation. The sec- 
 ondary schools must continue to be preparatory. But it is 
 far from necessary that they should confine themselves to
 
 The Function of the School 
 
 495 
 
 preparing for college, or even for the professional schools. In- 
 deed, it is of the greatest importance that they should come 
 to regard as their most important function that of leading each 
 student into that vocational or professional school for which 
 he is best fitted by nature. 
 
 Thus the tendency in secondary education seems to be 
 toward the assumption of the function of differentiating selec- 
 tion as its main service. This * function is especially impor- 
 tant in the education of the adolescent, and it should probably 
 begin to dominate school work as early as the seventh year. 
 Here, then, secondary education should begin, and there are 
 many signs that the elementary school of the future will offer 
 only a six years' course. To make this practicable it is neces- 
 sary to have the secondary system completed by the addition 
 of the general industrial school to take charge of the fortunes 
 of those who are manifestly ill adapted to the high school. 
 Differentiation on the basis of general ability will separate 
 those who go to the general industrial school from those who 
 go to the high school, and again, those who go from the high 
 school into special vocational schools from those who go to 
 college. The function of differentiation on the basis of special 
 abilities will be performed for one group by the general in- 
 dustrial school, for a second, by the courses in commerce and 
 industry in the high schools, and for the professional classes, 
 by the college. In many features this plan is in existence to- 
 day. General or intermediate industrial schools to care for 
 those who drop out of grammar or high schools are coming into 
 existence. The high schools are expanding their courses to 
 bring them in touch with the vocations, yet they are being 
 driven to differentiate their work from that of the special vo- 
 cational schools. They are encroaching upon the liberal stud- 
 ies of the college, on the one hand, and reaching down to take 
 in the brightest children of the upper grammar grades, on the 
 
 ent tend- 
 ency to- 
 ward a dif- 
 ferentiat- 
 ing rather 
 than a vo- 
 cational 
 course
 
 496 Principles of Education 
 
 other. They are thus not only expanding, but also extending 
 their course. The colleges are struggling with the problems 
 of introducing professional work which will count for a degree, 
 of cutting down the time of the regular course, of adapting 
 their programs to the needs of to-day. More than ever it is 
 evident that the work of their two first years belongs, where it 
 is placed in Europe, in the scheme of secondary education. 
 On the other hand, the American college is likely to remain 
 distinct from the high school, since there is need of a specific 
 institution to introduce to the study of the professions. 
 
 SECTION 54. The school as determinative of social heredity 
 
 The stand- We have seen that the school not only examines the indi- 
 vidual with reference both to general fitness for social service 
 
 LAcUIllIKL- <-' 
 
 tion as the and to special aptitudes, but also selects the material that 
 social he- shall enter into the culture of all and each. Thus it determines 
 redity social heredity, eliminating the useless and the antiquated, 
 and prescribing that which the judgment of its leaders regards 
 as making for the highest efficiency of the individual and of 
 society. However, in its earlier stages social heredity is an 
 exceedingly inflexible affair. 1 The school in determining it 
 merely conserves the established practices, adding the weight 
 of its influence to the forces making for permanence. More- 
 over, the function of instruction is at first largely bound up in 
 that of examination. It is in setting a standard by conforming 
 to which the child wins the approval of school and so of so- 
 ciety that the school determines the habits, ideas, and ideals 
 of the young. At first, it is not so much concerned in ques- 
 tioning the worth of its standards as in determining by means 
 of them the worth of the individual. Eliminating the unfit, 
 selecting, grading, absorb the attention of teachers, and the 
 standards of tradition are uncritically assumed. 
 
 1 Compare 10.
 
 The Fimction of the School 
 
 497 
 
 The shifting of attention from exclusive devotion to the 
 task of eliminative selection over to that of selecting social 
 heredity comes as a result of the accumulation of materials of 
 culture. The growth of the content of social heredity is in- 
 evitable unless conservatism sets about resolutely to check it. 
 The rise of such a warfare upon innovation is the first form of 
 a conscious endeavor on the part of the school to control the 
 subject matter of the education of the young. This attitude 
 would, however, seem to preclude any advance to a rational 
 determination of social heredity, thus smothering this function 
 in its infancy. On the other hand, the forces, both internal 
 and external, that make for progress 1 ultimately compel a 
 reconstruction of the culture material. The control of this 
 reconstruction, like that of the earlier conservation, must be 
 exercised either by or through the school. 
 
 The development of independence on the part of the school 
 in the exercise of this function is the growth of academic free- 
 dom, which was considered in the last chapter. This result 
 has been, as we have seen, the achievement of the modern 
 democratic state, the state that aims to be free from the con- 
 trol of privileged classes. In primitive society the school 
 expressed in its instruction the ingrained conservatism of this 
 epoch of culture. The group possessed but one type of edu- 
 cation, and its fitness was questioned by none. Civilization 
 came by the route of the warfare of cultures, and the forma- 
 tion of the composite state with various classes, each having 
 its own culture, one dominant, the others subordinate. 2 In 
 such a condition the school continues conservative, for it 
 expresses the wishes of a ruling class that strives to preserve 
 its privileges. The school determines social heredity, but in 
 subjection to the will of a class. 
 
 There is one feature of this composite society that is of 
 
 1 Compare 39. * Compare 14. 
 
 The accumu- 
 lation of 
 culture and 
 the rise of 
 conscious 
 election 
 
 Early con- 
 servatism 
 and sub- 
 ordination 
 of the 
 school in 
 its work
 
 498 Principles of Education 
 
 Specialized great importance in reference to the future function of the 
 cultures m g^^i it is a social order that involves not one culture, but 
 
 classified 
 
 society many, and, although one is recognized as best, each comes to 
 require a special sort of talent. Thus we have the rise of spe- 
 cialization, and specialization creates for the school, when once 
 a democratic society has decided against the assignment of 
 specialties according to birth, the problem of differentiating 
 selection. 
 
 When once the forces that undermine the conservatism of 
 early culture have succeeded in creating so much material 
 that it becomes necessary for selection to reduce this to such 
 proportions as can be contained in a practicable course of 
 study, then the problem of determining social heredity becomes 
 a vital one for the school. If the individual cannot be trusted 
 to select that which he is best fitted to do unless he has the 
 active, and, indeed, the coercive assistance of the school, 
 neither can society expect any rational determination of the 
 course of study so long as the teachers are dependent in this 
 Academic function upon the wishes of any class or party. Academic 
 thTbasis of fr ee d m i s tne on ly condition of an efficient, progressive, and 
 rational fair control of the work of education. This proposition has 
 Soda? keen debated at length in the preceding chapter. Here it re- 
 heredity mains to outline the method by which authority in the school 
 and freedom in the child may, so far as the course of study is 
 concerned, be made to work together most efficiently. 
 Authority in A certain authoritativeness on the part of the school, so 
 aslhe bTsL ^ r ^ rom re P ressm g tne individuality, as many think it is likely 
 of freedom to do, 1 may become the foundation of the highest degree of 
 freedom. Freedom consists in achievement along lines that 
 seem to the individual worth while. It is, therefore, based 
 on the experience that gives one a trustworthy sense of values, 
 
 1 Thus Herbart (Applications of Psychology to Education, Letter XXXII) 
 and Spencer (National Education) fear state control as too authoritative.
 
 The Function of the School 
 
 499 
 
 program 
 as the out- 
 come of ex- 
 periment 
 
 and upon the knowledge and skill that enables him to be 
 effective in the world of men. In both these respects the 
 guidance of the school is indispensable. It must compel all 
 to get certain fundamentals of culture. It must require each 
 to submit to its prescriptions and tests before admitting him 
 to such studies as he feels called to elect as a specialty. So far 
 as free electives are concerned, it should permit the maximum 
 of election consistent with efficiency, but must determine 
 the electives that are worth while and shut out the others. It 
 should, above all, continually experiment on new methods 
 of teaching and new courses or materials for instruction. But The school 
 it will not content itself with offering this experimental work, 
 trusting to its appeal to parent or pupil as a measure of its 
 success. On the contrary, a constant endeavor will be made 
 to determine the success or failure of these experiments by 
 collecting data in regard to their effects over long ranges of 
 time. Thus survival will be made to depend upon intelligent 
 selection rather than upon individual preferences founded 
 upon caprice or imperfect evidence, and incapable of definitely 
 and finally determining to the satisfaction of all any educa- 
 tional values. 
 
 The progressive school will, therefore, not be, as Mr. Spencer 
 thinks, the school that offers to the individual anything that 
 he may chance to want. The free play of individuality with- 
 out any adequate selective agency to determine which of the 
 products of such activity shall survive does not lead to prog- 
 ress. The experiments of the school will be under the direc- 
 tion of the school itself, rather than under that of pupil or 
 parent. The creativeness that is intrusted with the task of 
 improving social heredity will not be that of immature or in- 
 experienced childhood or of men whose training makes them 
 expert in other than educational matters, but it will be that 
 of the leaders among the teachers themselves. The decisions
 
 500 Principles of Education 
 
 that the school reaches will be embodied in the program that 
 it gradually evolves. This program will, of course, have to 
 be accepted by the public, but it will be sufficiently elastic to 
 permit the adequate expression of individuality. A protest 
 on the part of parent or child or society in general against 
 what the school offers can be met either by the inauguration 
 of a new experiment or by a reference to the data in regard to 
 the failure of previous ones. 
 
 In the previous chapter it was pointed out that academic 
 freedom must be safeguarded by such checks as insure the 
 constant attention of the school to those needs of social life 
 which it is the province of education to supply. Historically 
 the teachers have always concerned themselves with greater or 
 less success, not only in preserving, but also in bettering the 
 ideals of society. They have preached a gospel of the higher 
 life, which in many cases seems to have divorced them from 
 practical affairs. In modern times they have become inter- 
 ested not only in improving the morale, of society, but also in 
 inventing better methods of bringing about generally recog- 
 nized aims. The school reflects the attitude of the time in its 
 conception of its duty. Our universities were not at first cen- 
 ters of scientific research. This was because society itself was 
 slow in realizing the need of becoming consciously progressive 
 in matters of knowledge. Once alive to that need, and its 
 accredited organ, the school, becomes the natural agency to 
 The school carry on this function. To-day the university is the home 
 home of re- ^ research. Again, the task of applying science to the arts 
 search and o f life was for many years left to outsiders, to practical men, 
 and the universities contented themselves with researches that, 
 instead of aiming at improving human conditions in material 
 ways, were animated solely by the desire of extending the 
 bounds of human knowledge. To-day it is safe to say that 
 the inventor, the expert in the application of science to any
 
 The Function of the School 501 
 
 phase of practice, is rapidly coming to find his home in the 
 professional departments of the higher institutions of learning. 
 Here he may find an assured income for support, and resources 
 for experimentation that are adequate. Moreover, the results 
 of his research are not private monopolies to be exploited by 
 clever business men for their own profit, but can be utilized by 
 all. We are coming to see that progress in efficiency is far more 
 swift and effective when supported by special agencies that are 
 incorporated in the school, than when it is left merely to the 
 interests of private enterprise. The assumption of respon- 
 sibility for the betterment of social heredity will remove the 
 last argument against intrusting to the school the authority 
 to determine what its content shall be. 
 
 Our main contentions are, then, first, that the function of Conclusion 
 determining social heredity cannot be avoided by the school ; 
 second, that it exercises this function in a manner which ex- 
 presses the dominant spirit and tendencies of the society of 
 the age ; third, that if the age be progressive, a powerful, 
 independent, and resourceful school will direct and accelerate 
 that progress far more effectively than a weak and dependent 
 one.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Variety of 
 the aca- 
 demic in- 
 terests 
 
 Restriction 
 of the 
 school to 
 the aca- 
 demic. Its 
 willingness 
 to devote 
 itself to 
 this 
 
 THE ACADEMIC AND THE PRACTICAL 
 
 SECTION 55. The evolution of the academic 
 
 WE have defined the " academic" as a form of culture pur- 
 sued for its own sake and without reference to practical appli- 
 cation. Religion, philosophy, ethics, science, art, even busi- 
 ness, may tend to become "academic." By a strange paradox, 
 the man of intense worldly activity may come to regard this 
 activity as valuable without reference to its relation to human 
 life as a whole, and so become "academic" in the universal 
 sense of the term. He may get things done just for the sake 
 of getting them done. He may glorify busy-ness. He may be 
 intoxicated with the desire to make money without reference 
 to its uses. He may absorb himself in a life of mere strenuous- 
 ness, and so become as genuinely "academic" as Plato him- 
 self. 
 
 This universal meaning of the term must be kept in mind 
 whenever the relation of the academic to the practical is con- 
 sidered. However, since the great historic academic interests 
 are those of religion, philosophy, science, ethics, and art, we 
 will in the present section limit ourselves to them. We have 
 already taken account of what may be called the negative 
 reason for the devotion of the school to unworldly aims. 1 
 Only at the price of restricting its investigations and its teach- 
 ing to academic issues was this institution able to gain freedom 
 in these matters. However, if this were the only reason for 
 
 1 Compare 50. 
 502
 
 The Academic and l/ie Practical 503 
 
 the devotion of the school to the academic, its attitude would 
 be, indeed, inglorious. Such an explanation cannot account 
 for the enthusiasm of schoolmen about the pursuits that ab- 
 sorb them. There must be positive reasons that lie back of the 
 extraordinary prestige that the ideals of truth, beauty, and 
 goodness have enjoyed and still enjoy in the minds of men. 
 These positive reasons it is the purpose of this section to con- 
 sider. 
 
 It is probable that the love both of knowledge and of beauty instinctive 
 find their roots in instinct. Instinctive curiosity lies back of b * sof 
 
 * the aca- 
 
 the philosophic and scientific ideal, and aesthetic taste is demicat- 
 grounded in native love of rhythm, harmony of form, melody, 
 etc. In the early history of man, however, these instincts 
 served a use that it was not difficult to detect. Primitive utilitarian 
 intellectual and artistic interests are always close to the utili- { ^ a r i y er 
 ties. Intelligence was at first so absorbed in the dire problem culture 
 of satisfying the simplest human needs that it could hardly 
 devote itself to academic ideals. Religion, philosophy, art, 
 and ethics are in their beginnings eminently practical and 
 worldly. They become academic by virtue of an inner growth, 
 the main phases of which can readily be seen. 
 
 If we begin with religion, we discover that as soon as the Religion at 
 human mind began to make its incursions into the realm of l 
 
 the supernatural, it proceeded to put to use its superstitions. 
 The intellect of the individual discovers outside himself other 
 personality, endowed with interests and power to realize them. 
 The volitions of these persons explain much of that which 
 otherwise would seem utterly unaccountable, because so irreg- 
 ular and capricious. He naturally extends this explanation to 
 account for everything that rouses wonder by varying from 
 the customary, and the will of a person is seen behind each 
 unusual event. Especially is this true of those phenomena 
 that affect human welfare. Man's experience of the benefi-
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Rise of the 
 contrast 
 between 
 temporal 
 and eter- 
 nal power 
 
 Worship as 
 the leading 
 
 cence of human friendship and of the terrible consequences of 
 human hate is so intense that he cannot fail to discover these 
 motives behind the good and the evil that come from nature. 
 Thus imagination, unchecked by scientific tests, sees the voli- 
 tions of supernatural beings behind all the important events 
 in the natural world, and cunning strives to ascertain the 
 intentions of these wills, and, perchance, to influence them to 
 serve the welfare of the self or of the social group. 
 
 The interest of primitive man in the attitudes of gods and 
 demons is continually deepened by the magnitude of the forces 
 that these beings are supposed to control. All that the intel- 
 ligence or power of man can accomplish is as nothing in the 
 hands of the mysterious agencies that govern the supply of 
 game, the rain, the crops, disease, and health, the outcome of 
 conflict, in short, everything but that narrow circle of events 
 that receives some feeble light from human insight and falls 
 directly under the grip of human will. Thus to know the will 
 of the gods becomes the most important knowledge, and to be 
 able to influence it the most important power. Moreover, 
 as human memory is strengthened by oral and at length by 
 written tradition, the sense of the limitations of human fore- 
 sight and the transitory nature of human effort becomes even 
 greater. Man may do a little now, but that little becomes 
 infinitesimal when we consider how quickly it disappears. 
 The gods, who are all-powerful, are by an inevitable logic 
 endowed with immortality. They are the eternal forces. 
 Man's activity is temporal, fleeting, insignificant. The en- 
 deavor of the imagination to invent a being worthy of the 
 feeling of awe with which the human mind confronts the ever- 
 lasting is, doubtless, one of the psychical factors that leads 
 to the sublime generalization of Monotheism. 
 
 It is plain that the absorption of the mind in the task of 
 the favor of the supernatural powers tends to draw
 
 
 The Academic and the Practical 505 
 
 it away from the endeavor to master nature directly. The method of 
 consciousness of the magnitude of the unknown and of the * 
 
 Its failure 
 
 apparent helplessness of human ability to master it leads man in this role 
 
 to seek the desired things mainly through the forms of worship. 
 
 However, the responses of the gods to prayer and sacrifice, 
 
 or to neglect, insult, and the spoliation of their temples are not 
 
 always immediate or certain. Often it seems as though a 
 
 deity had failed to remember his followers, or was bestowing 
 
 favors with no regard to service. Thus men became convinced 
 
 that "it rains alike on the just and the unjust," and the patience 
 
 of Job is necessary to preserve faith in the midst of the strange 
 
 dispensations of an incomprehensible Providence. Under 
 
 such conditions the human mind naturally takes refuge in the 
 
 thought that to an everlasting God the events of human life 
 
 are not of such significance as they seem to man. What to Contrast be- 
 
 man, limited in vision to the years of a life, appears as vitally 
 
 important, to God, who knows eternity, seems as trivial, worldly 
 
 What man regards as injustice, God intends as discipline. 
 
 "Whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth." Thus man begins 
 
 to lose confidence, not only in his power over nature, but also 
 
 in the accuracy of his judgment in regard to what constitutes 
 
 practical success. After all, life is full of vanities, with which 
 
 God cannot be supposed to have much sympathy. We are 
 
 in His hands; what need to worry over worldly failure or suc- 
 
 cess ? The important things are the things of eternity. 
 
 Thus religious belief, leading man to strive to gain his ends Rise of c*- 
 by the intervention of the gods, turns the attention away from 
 the directly to the indirectly practical. Then, through the 
 failure of such practice to gain what is expected, it causes him 
 to despise practical considerations as of no permanent impor- 
 tance. A similar devotion to the academic appears in the 
 development of philosophy and science. Philosophy, of which 
 science is an offshoot, has been from its beginnings an endeavor
 
 506 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Early phi- 
 losophy a 
 practical 
 art 
 
 Philosophy 
 as the 
 study of 
 the per- \ 
 manent 
 nature of 
 things 
 
 to rationalize life, to adapt conduct to permanent rather than 
 temporary conditions, and to do this by getting at the deeper 
 meanings of things, on the one hand, and by conforming hu- 
 man attitudes to them, on the other. Thus it has always been 
 associated with effective practice. The philosopher was tra- 
 ditionally the wise man, the man who penetrated to ultimate 
 causes and regulated his life thereby, one who knew the motives 
 of men and how to manage them and to give them laws, one 
 who knew the properties of natural things and could use them 
 to accomplish remarkable things like the cure of disease, the 
 prediction of eclipses, the invention of engines of war. 
 
 Philosophy springs from religious speculation. The contin- 
 ued reflection on the causes of things leads thinkers to discover 
 uniformities in nature rather than caprice . Indeed , the volitions 
 of men come to be regarded as subject to law. The philosopher 
 interests himself in the endeavor to formulate the principle or 
 principles that lie behind all the phenomena of experience. The 
 theological character of early philosophy is seen in that these 
 principles are usually regarded as the nature of God. Such 
 a God is, however, not a Being to be influenced by adulation 
 or neglect. He is a Fate, an irreversible law, a permanent 
 behind the transitory phases of experience. 
 
 The study of first causes, although calculated, as we have 
 seen, to rationalize life, led man's attention away from the 
 endeavor to control nature through a mastery of her laws. First 
 of all, philosophy possessed no method and had not yet accu- 
 mulated sufficient data to get acquainted with the more recon- 
 dite properties of natural things. Hence, its speculations did 
 not result in any very rapid or very startling reconstructions 
 of the methods of attaining the ordinary ambitions of men. 
 This fact made it easier for the mind to discredit the importance 
 of such applications, when once this negative attitude was 
 suggested as a result of the further progress of philosophy.
 
 The Academic and the Practical 507 
 
 Second, the contrast between the immutable, which reason thcpbe- 
 demands and finds, and the transitory, which the senses appre- jiu^ 1 
 hend, led men to believe that there is an impassable chasm 
 between the absolute and the phenomena of experience. The 
 latter came to be regarded as non-being, as unreal, illusory. 
 The senses that tell us that they exist were held to be decep- 
 tive. Only reason, which fathoms the nature of the transcend- 
 ent, the immutable, can, on this view, reach reality, and so be 
 relied upon to tell the truth. The Platonic idealism represents 
 the ultimate outcome of this view. The true reality is held to 
 be the form, the universal idea. Change is chance, Matter is 
 imperfection, corruption, non-being. Particular things have 
 reality only in so far as they are copies of the idea, that is, 
 partake of it. The goal of mental and moral activity is to 
 attain knowledge of the idea, to be at one with it in conduct 
 and thought. 
 
 It is not the purpose of this discussion to enter into a criti- philosophy 
 cism of the Platonic philosophy. One cannot question, how- 
 ever, that interpretation of Platonism which makes the highest 
 occupation of man the search for knowledge for its own sake. 
 The philosopher, the lover of truth, is not worldly, and to the 
 worldly he must seem impractical. He seems impractical 
 because in a sense he is practical, in making his conduct cor- 
 respond to his theory. He busies himself in the study of that 
 which cannot improve his worldly fortunes. His rule, if he 
 were permitted to rule, would not be opportunism. He would 
 constrain human conduct within the lines of a plan that would 
 consider not the exigencies of the moment, but the pattern of 
 the absolute. Such a man cannot fail to be regarded as im- 
 practical. The practicalities of ordinary men are to him futil- 
 ities. He loves with that sublimated passion which has been 
 called Platonic love the permanent, the perfect, the ideal, the 
 divine. Platonism represents in its most typical form the
 
 508 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Ethics at 
 first con- 
 cerned in 
 the rules of 
 prudence 
 
 Failure of 
 prudence 
 to justify 
 its prac- 
 tices 
 
 love of truth for its own sake. Thus we find in the culmina- 
 tion of philosophic speculation among the Greeks an attitude 
 quite comparable to the outcome of religious reflection among 
 the Hebrews and in the Orient. As God transcends the finite 
 and cares little for the fortunes of the hour, having an eternity 
 in which to accomplish His purposes, so reality transcends the 
 sphere of circumstance, and calls the lover of truth away from 
 the unintelligible spectacle of the phenomenal world to the 
 majestic uniformities and permanences of the world of ideas. 
 
 Corresponding with these religious and speculative move- 
 ments, there is an ethical movement the outcome of which is 
 similar. When men first begin to reason about conduct, 
 they naturally assume that it aims at prosperity more or less 
 immediate. As the range of ethical experience widens, they 
 come to substitute more and more remote aims for the simpler 
 ones that lie near at hand. However, it is as yet concrete 
 good fortune at which all conduct aims. One simply gives up 
 the lesser pleasures for the larger success ; for power, influence, 
 prestige, wealth, or health he barters the immediate satisfaction 
 of his impulses and appetites. 
 
 But further reflection convinces the thinker that, no matter 
 how carefully he orders his life, it does not seem possible to 
 assure himself of earthly success. No human power can avail 
 against disease, false friends, the accidents of nature, or the 
 fickleness of society. Prudence, as the rule of rational conduct, 
 seems an utterly inadequate guide. It aims at an end to which 
 it is incapable of attaining. Under these circumstances, the 
 self-control that was originally invoked to enable one to follow 
 the ends held by judgment to be most permanent comes to 
 serve as a force by which men can defy the distribution of favors 
 that the chances of life bring about. Men become cynical, 
 and seek mastery of their fortunes by the negative method of 
 caring only for what they can be sure to get. Or, with the
 
 The Academic and the Practical 509 
 
 Stoic, they exalt self-control into a self-sufficient ideal, and 
 declare that "virtue is its own reward." The notion of a duty 
 entirely disconnected either with the fortunes of one's self or 
 of his family or state makes its appearance, and man comes to 
 despise the utilities as calling the interest away from that which 
 is truly good. 
 
 The ethical philosophies of the later days of classical civili- Ethics be- 
 zation are all somewhat affected by the feeling that the most 
 praiseworthy course of conduct lies in a certain indifference 
 to worldly success. If the Epicurean admonished man to seek 
 happiness, he was certain that this end could best be attained 
 by such culture of character as makes one indifferent to those 
 phases of human fortune which he may be unable to control. 
 To him and to the Skeptic, as well as to the Stoic, the ideal 
 was the untroubled life, the life at peace with itself, and con- 
 tent with whatever lot may befall. Such an attitude is cer- 
 tainly not utilitarian. At most, it merely tolerates the prac- 
 tical, finding in the ideal of reason which regards not specific 
 consequences the supreme law of conduct. Man orders his own 
 life to secure his own contentment, whether with the Epicurean 
 he gets what he can and cares not for the rest, or with the Stoic 
 he values only the ideal of duty, despising the dispensations of 
 fortune when these do not conform to justice. 
 
 When the human mind in its reflections reaches the religious Academic 
 devotion of a Job, or the speculative zeal of the Platonic ideal- 
 ism, or the lofty self-sufficiency of the Stoic conception of virtue, 
 it is apt to look with suspicion upon any attempt to harness 
 the truth in the service of any alien master. It is felt that to 
 serve God for a reward is not genuine piety. He who is con- 
 tinually seeking the application of truth to practice is set down 
 as not caring for the truth, but only for what he can get out 
 of it. If a lie will serve him better than the truth, it is supposed 
 that he will prefer the lie, or, at any rate, that he will not care
 
 510 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 to question any belief which is useful for his ends. No man 
 can get repute as a true philosopher who teaches for pay, for 
 rank, or for influence. Such an one will always be credited 
 with "making the worse appear the better reason," if it serves 
 his purposes to do so. True religion scorns any pious offices 
 that smack of worldly designs. " Render unto Caesar the things 
 that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's." 
 The spiritual and the temporal are sharply separated. The 
 value of spiritual well-doing is seen to lie in spiritual better- 
 ment. The saints find their reward not in earthly palaces, 
 but in heavenly mansions. 
 
 Rise of war- Thus not only do men come to devote themselves to the holy, 
 ^ ne true > and the right without regard to their practical uses, 
 but they come to look with disfavor upon any attempt to dabble 
 in the practical. Under such conditions, the "academic," 
 that which pertains to the culture of the school, but does not 
 concern itself with the life outside, gains a prestige that threat- 
 ens to submerge the interest in the utilitarian. We find the 
 natural outcome of this in the asceticism and mysticism of 
 the Middle Ages. The negations of celibacy, seclusion, 
 poverty, and self-inflicted torment were the natural accompani- 
 ments of a conception of life that found the only noble occupa- 
 tion in spiritual contemplation, and the only worthy ultimate 
 goal in the Beatific Vision. 
 
 In its beginnings art, like religion and ethics, was ostensibly 
 utilitarian. Adornment of the person connects itself ordinarily 
 with a primitive symbolism, indicating honors, status, achieve- 
 ments, etc. The ornamentation of weapons, clothing, baskets, 
 dwellings also springs largely, if not wholly, from an attempt 
 to express significances that have real or supposed value. 
 It is not meant to deny that artistic forms are pleasing to the 
 primitive man apart from their utility. Indeed, the utility 
 of the adornment is partly due to its aesthetic attractiveness. 
 
 utilitarian 
 
 early art.
 
 The Academic and the Practical 511 
 
 On the other hand, this aesthetic quality is often due merely 
 to the conventional association of the artistic product with a 
 desirable distinction on the part of the possessor. The mean- 
 ings and utilities of primitive art are to be found in the social 
 ideals of the people to which it appeals. The artist sets him- 
 self to express or symbolize social traditions and values, and 
 he hopes through this expression to gain the influence or pres- 
 tige connected with these values for himself or for his patron. 
 
 But primitive art does not find its sole utility in glorifying Social utii- 
 the social status or achievements of the individual or class. 
 It connects itself with play, with tribal enterprises and with 
 religion, and serves the same utilities as they do. We have 
 already discussed how play and religious ceremonial 1 tend to 
 become associated, because both help to socialize men, and 
 because the form of each has no special aptitude for any other 
 clearly defined use. The form of play may be what we choose, 
 just as may that of religious ceremonial. Neither gods nor 
 circumstances will interfere to prevent the freedom of human 
 taste from determining these forms, as long as they are not 
 productive of positive harm to the individual or to the com- 
 munity. Thus aesthetic taste is left in control of the situation, 
 and play and religious ceremonial become its special province. 
 They socialize men, and art helps them in this service by ena- 
 bling their forms to instill most effectively the social ideals. 
 
 As yet, however, the value of the art form is not seen to rest 
 upon its inherent excellence as a means of expression. Orna- 
 ments are prized for the distinction that they give their wearers 
 rather than as works of art. Religious ceremonial is held 
 sacred, not because of the beauty with which it expresses the 
 religious attitude, but because it is regarded as acceptable to 
 the gods, and hence likely to win their favor. The growth of 
 art into wider service helps it to gain an independence of these 
 
 1 Compare 45.
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Growth of 
 art into a 
 special vo- 
 cation. 
 Idealiza- 
 tion of ar- 
 tistic ex- 
 pression 
 
 Art becomes 
 academic 
 
 aims, and so of any utilities. Since the artist deals with expres- 
 sion, he grows to be a fundamental force in social control. 
 Wherever man would influence man, art can teach him the 
 most effective way. The artist through song or dance or 
 ceremonial or wild festivity rouses the emotions and dominates 
 public opinion and action. He serves religion to make it mys- 
 terious and awful, the state to awaken the enthusiastic support 
 of its citizens, the interests of leaders or of privileged classes 
 by celebrating their heroic deeds, their superior gifts, and their 
 bounty, or by surrounding them with the trappings and the 
 atmosphere that inspire admiration, reverence, and fear. 
 When, with leisure, social intercourse becomes an occupation 
 for a select class, art exerts itself to give this intercourse a form 
 so captivating that it justifies idleness and saves the interest 
 of those upon whom sloth would pall. 
 
 Thus the creation of effective forms of expression becomes a 
 vocation. The artist is differentiated, as one whose specific 
 task is to fashion the beautiful. At first an inventor of expres- 
 sions by which society or the individual can exert a desired 
 influence, he comes to be one whose products are seen to have 
 a certain perfection in themselves, as the ideal embodiments 
 of phases of human experience. He ceases to be a servitor, 
 and becomes a master. In the life of cultured leisure he is 
 the high priest, for he can make expression so excellent that 
 it seems to need no utility to warrant its existence. Hence 
 art acquires a certain sanctity. It becomes the perfect reve- 
 lation, and whether it reveals the evil or the good, the shams 
 or the realities, it matters not, so long as it makes its portraits 
 speak their meaning. 
 
 In this manner expression comes to be regarded as a thing 
 worth while for its own sake. That which at first existed that 
 it might convey certain meanings came to be regarded as val- 
 uable apart from these significances. Not that art can get
 
 The Academic and the Practical 513 
 
 along without something to express, but that for it the supreme 
 interest is expression, and that any one whose artistic creations 
 are dominated by a desire to influence the conduct of men in 
 certain practical ways ceases in so far to be an artist, and be- 
 comes a preacher, a reformer. Always the ideal of the artist 
 is to keep utilities in the background. The Muses cannot be 
 ordered about as servants. They must be worshiped. To 
 the true artist considerations of the practical effects of his 
 work upon the thought and conduct of men, and of its value 
 as a source of income or prestige to himself, are alike irrelevant 
 and corrupting. No extraneous motives should be suffered 
 to defile the pure devotion to "art for art's sake." Thus this 
 field of human endeavor comes to range itself along with reli- 
 gion and philosophy, science, and ethics as something inde- 
 pendent of and, in a sense, apart from the rest of life, a thing 
 of cults and schools, academic rather than practical. 
 
 SECTION 56. The reaction against the academic 
 
 The practical man of affairs has usually looked upon the Worldly re- 
 devotion of the schoolman to the ideal of the form of culture contempt 
 that he represents with covetous interest, with fear, or with for the 
 amused toleration. For, first of all, religion, philosophy, and 
 art have a powerful appeal to the human mind, and their whole- 
 hearted devotees command a respect that can never be ac- 
 corded to a worldly man, whose motives seem, as in point of 
 fact they usually are, selfish. Hence the support of the school- 
 man has always been eagerly sought by men of affairs. If 
 such support can be gained without discrediting the motives 
 of those who afford it, the man of practice gains for his policies 
 the enormous advantage of a seeming justification by men 
 entirely disinterested and by principles absolutely general 
 and impartial. The evolution of academic freedom, while
 
 * 5 I 4 Principles of Education 
 
 it has not removed the desire for and the possibility of such 
 support, has tended to put it out of the power of arbitrary 
 commands, and even, to some extent, that of diplomacy or 
 corrupting influences. 
 
 But we have seen that academic freedom has usually meant 
 in its beginnings the freedom to think, act, and speak as mind, 
 conscience, or taste might direct, so long as the defenses of estab- 
 lished order are not assaulted. In this limitation the practical 
 world shows its fear of the schoolmen, for the prestige that their 
 supposed disinterestedness gives them makes them not only 
 valuable supporters, but also formidable foes. When, however, 
 they are rendered innocuous by restrictions that prevent them 
 from applying their theories or their art to living issues, they 
 are very naturally tolerated as harmless dreamers, or, perhaps, 
 ridiculed as being of no more real importance tha mounte- 
 banks or court jesters. 
 
 Tendency of Nevertheless, academic freedom grows, and the discoveries 
 investiga- ^ the schoolmen accumulate until they constitute a founda- 
 tions to ti on f or revolutionary effects. Philosophy, ethics, and science, 
 tice penned behind the barriers of the school, gain such energy 
 
 as at length to break down its restrictions and to rush forth 
 to reconstruct the social and economic conditions of men. 
 Ethics gradually allies itself with democracy and fights its way 
 into practice. Invention, hitherto left largely to accident, 1 
 discovers in the researches of academic science ideas the appli- 
 cation of which transforms in a marvelous way industry and 
 the material resources of life. These achievements gradually 
 wean science away from its distrust of the practical, and it 
 lends itself more freely to the service of the utilities. 
 Persistence However, the prestige of pure science remains proof against 
 tothTaca" ^ ot ^ tne ridicule of men who are frankly utilitarian and the 
 demk allurements of practical success, which are everywhere inviting 
 1 Compare Bacon, Advancement of Learning.
 
 The Academic and tlte Practical 515 
 
 investigators to devote themselves to that which pays. So 
 strong is human interest in the truth, and so great is human 
 admiration for its disinterested pursuit, that the attitude of 
 devotion to the academic cannot be shaken by the contempt 
 of some or by the bribery of others. The discovery that science 
 can be utilized creates applied science, but does not discredit 
 pure science. There are, however, tendencies that ultimately 
 force the school to look to the practical exigencies of life for 
 guidance in both its teaching and its research. That atten- 
 tion to the practical, which could not be compelled by extra- 
 neous pressure, is coming now as an inner necessity, a condition 
 of a satisfactory carrying out of its own work by the school 
 itself. The movement that brings about this resort to the 
 utilities consists of an accumulation of learning, and the rise 
 of a struggle for existence among disciplines and cults. 
 
 The accumulation of learning is partly a cause and partly Effects of 
 a result of the differentiation of the learned class. When this dency^for 
 learning grows so ponderous in bulk that any further additions learning to 
 threaten the preservation of what has gone before, three alter- ia te 
 native lines of action lie open, each of which finds abundant 
 illustration in history, (i) The school may become conserva- 
 tive and refuse to permit new elements of culture to be added 
 to what it already teaches. (2) It may admit new material, 
 and provide for its retention alongside of the old by a resort 
 to specialization. (3) It may undertake to select what should 
 survive, subjecting both new and old culture to tests which 
 eliminate some materials and permit others to remain. 
 
 (i) The school in its earlier history is conservative not only d) Conserv- 
 because society compels it to be so, but also because of natural ^ 
 inclination and self-interest. As disciple succeeds creator, new 
 and scholarship and commentary take the place of independent 
 thought and original productiveness, the admiration of the 
 master creates a fear that further originality will be purchased
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Attack on 
 this atti- 
 tude as 
 selfish 
 
 The victory 
 over con- 
 servatism 
 and the 
 overpro- 
 duction of 
 culture 
 material 
 
 at the expense of a loss of what he has achieved. Moreover, 
 since the master's work gains in honor as the generations roll 
 by, discipleship comes to have a prestige that cannot be secured 
 by originality, nay, was not enjoyed by the master himself 
 in his own lifetime. Thus conservatism becomes to the school- 
 man the part of prudence as well as of reverence for the glo- 
 rious dead. 
 
 This conservatism is, of course, doomed when once there 
 arises a conflicting and more advanced group of ideas. The 
 progressive tendency enjoys the advantage not only of a more 
 forceful appeal to reason, but also of the weakness of its adver- 
 saries in that they cannot fail ultimately to be charged with 
 placing personal interest above truth. Thus that prestige 
 which constitutes the original advantage of the conservative 
 decays and proves his ultimate undoing. His faith ceases to 
 be regarded as a sacred respect for the truth, and is held to 
 constitute a disguise for self-interest, if not the garb of a hypo- 
 crite. Thus the new philosophy, the new culture, wins its 
 way. But it brings with it a revolutionary spirit, a tendency 
 to be suspicious of traditional belief and vested right that 
 makes it in turn an easier prey to its successor. 
 
 But the advance of intellectual life does not consist merely 
 in substituting one system of thought or culture for another. 
 The body of culture material, when once the check of conserva- 
 tism is removed, renews its growth. The historical sense de- 
 mands the preservation of the antecedents of the newer teach- 
 ings. The classics in literature and philosophy are not less 
 honored in the curriculum because of the introduction of new 
 works of genius. History is continually presenting a broader 
 field and fresh material. Even science, which thinks largely 
 of the "up-to-date," does not lose all interest in the past. 
 Moreover, without reference to its history it continually 
 reaches out in its investigations, and piles up new material
 
 The Academic and the Practical 517 
 
 which clamors for admission into that which is taught. Thus 
 the curriculum is swamped. 
 
 (2) To permit the school to handle all this material which (j) Rise of 
 the breaking down of its conservatism allows a hearing, the ^ ializ *" 
 method of specialization appears. Many men, many minds. 
 To this conception of culture we have committed ourselves. 
 The days of the polymath are passed. Each must choose one 
 phase of learning, and that a very narrow one, if he would hope 
 to exploit therein the sum of human achievement, and in turn 
 produce. No matter how peculiar the path thus trod, there 
 will probably be some to follow, some to whose taste this sort 
 of scenery will appeal. 
 
 In order to permit each subject to make its appeal to the The elective 
 judgment and the taste of the individual, the elective system 
 
 comes to prevail in the school. It strives to offer free play to f or 
 the forces of differentiation, to do equal justice to all phases 
 of culture, to recognize the new without breaking with the old, 
 to offer equal opportunity to each to develop his own talents 
 according to his own desires. In specialization election finds 
 its current justification and reason for being. It may be said 
 to date from the beginning of differentiation of types of school, 
 although it is commonly associated with the culmination of 
 such differentiation in alternative courses and subjects within 
 the ame school. 
 
 (3) But while the ostensible purpose of election lies in the (3) Theeiim- 
 desirability of specialization, the elective system of modern 
 
 times has had another motive and function. It has served as material. 
 
 . , Election as 
 
 a means of providing for a struggle for existence among sub- a method 
 jects. The result of this struggle is the elimination of some 
 subjects, because they fail to attract a sufficient number of this 
 students, and the ranking of those that survive according to 
 the patronage that they receive. As an arrangement to permit 
 specialization, the elective system makes for expansion of the
 
 518 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The elective 
 system as 
 an appeal 
 to the de- 
 cision of 
 patronage 
 
 Apparent 
 resort to 
 the judg- 
 ment of 
 practice or 
 utility 
 
 course of study ; as a scheme for providing a struggle for exist- 
 ence among subjects,, it furthers the work of selection in nar- 
 rowing this course. 
 
 The elective system does not mean that the school has un- 
 dertaken the task of selecting its program from among compet- 
 ing materials. On the contrary, latitude in election is a result 
 of the unwillingness of the school to choose, and of an attempt 
 to thrust this responsibility upon its patrons. This unwilling- 
 ness may spring from the spirit of commerce, the desire to 
 offer the widest variety of stock, and, in order to make many 
 sales, to persuade each customer that what he seems to fancy 
 is the best. Unfortunately, the subordination of the school 
 to other interests in society has only too often reduced it to the 
 position of selling education according to popular demand. 
 A more creditable motive for leaving the choice among studies 
 to the individual lies in the fact that the school often is unable 
 to determine beforehand what is best. The various subjects 
 and phases of subjects that crowd upon the gate of the curric- 
 ulum all have plausible reasons for demanding entrance. 
 Each represents some part of the truth. Each appeals to 
 that academic catholicity of appreciation that loves the 
 truth for truth's sake and can see beauty in forms that 
 are not classic. 
 
 Thus the multiplication of studies and of cults puts the 
 school under the necessity of providing a means of determining 
 their relative value. Since this can hardly be done with entire 
 satisfaction a -priori, the elective system enters in as a sort of 
 application of the trial and error method to the problem. 
 The judgment of the event is invoked. But this judgment 
 is that of practice. The academic, unable or unwilling to 
 settle the strife between the competing forms of culture, appeals 
 to the test of practice as a basis for the appraisement of rela- 
 tive values. It abandons its gospel of personal culture, and
 
 The Academic and the Practical 
 
 519 
 
 seeks to satisfy the demand of the community. It becomes 
 utilitarian. 
 
 The growth of the spirit of applied ethics and of applied 
 science has encouraged and sustained the school in its resort 
 to the arbitrament of the practical. But in spite of the enthu- 
 siasm which the positive achievements of this spirit, whether 
 in social organization or in invention, have aroused, it is the 
 contention of this discussion that the academic attitude remains 
 unshaken until the struggle among its own products compels 
 a resort to the judgment of utility. After all, utility, conform- 
 ity to environment, plays here its invariable and characteristic 
 role of the selective principle that determines survival among 
 the achievements of men. To paraphrase the proverb, "man 
 proposes, but the environment disposes." The realization of 
 this fact has driven us into a practical age, has submerged the 
 academic in the utilitarian, which all perceive to have, in a 
 sense, the final word. We are " pragmatic," even in our philos- 
 ophy. We are above all "up to date," which means that we 
 discard everything as soon as we suspect that it may not work 
 quite as well as something else. Indeed, in our fear of being 
 behind the times we frequently cast off the better for the worse, 
 and in our rage for the practical we lose sight of those very 
 conditions conformity to which constitutes the essence of prac- 
 ticality itself. 
 
 Such a criticism may well be passed upon a school which 
 fancies that through the elective system it renders itself in 
 the highest sense of the term practical. For it assumes that 
 the only and final test of practicality is demand for its wares 
 on the part of the public. It governs its instruction as a mer- 
 chant does his business, keeping sharply in mind what men 
 want rather than what they ought to have. Indeed, it is 
 assumed that what men desire and what they need are really 
 one. However, even the business man has learned to force 
 
 The school 
 becomes 
 practical 
 primarily 
 to settle 
 the strife 
 of subjects 
 
 Practicality 
 not ade- 
 quately 
 tested by 
 patronage
 
 520 Principles of Education 
 
 trade, to create demand, to induce men to want what they 
 did not dream of coveting before the agent or the advertise- 
 ment or the fad or fashion of the hour convinced them of the 
 dire distress of their present plight. If business is practical 
 in causing men to want to buy what it has to sell, much more 
 should education feel that it is part of its practical service, 
 after it has done its best to discover what it is most nearly 
 certain that men genuinely need, to attempt to infuse the 
 young with an eager longing for these ultimately desirable 
 things. 
 
 Election fails The elective system in education is like the policy of laissez 
 f a ^ re m government. We may add that, just as laissez faire 
 
 or inteiii- fails because, when the government takes off its hands, other 
 forces for social control quite as irresistible enter in to assume 
 the abandoned functions and to manipulate them in the inter- 
 ests of individuals or of classes, so the elective system fails 
 because without the interference of the school an impartial 
 determination of the relative practical value of subjects is 
 impossible. Paradoxically, to be under a "let alone" policy 
 means not to be let alone, and the school, like the state, cannot 
 avoid the responsibility of an impartial judgment concerning 
 the deserts of competitors. The children before whom the 
 materials of culture are spread have as yet neither taste nor 
 judgment in reference to most of them. They are, therefore, 
 really victims of a variety of influences that are not impartial 
 but partizan. The influence of parents, thrown on the side of 
 the studies with which they are familiar, or which possess 
 prestige in their circles of society, the attitudes of fellow 
 students, who are governed, in part at least, by youthful con- 
 siderations, the popularity or advertising skill of instructors, 
 these are but a few of the many forces quite as effective in 
 determining choice as is the fitness of the work for the individual 
 making the election.
 
 Tke Academic and the Practical 521 
 
 The delegation of the work of selection to the judgment of The elective 
 the event is both wasteful of energy and pernicious in outcome. u , in 
 
 It is wasteful, because the trial and error method is always energy and 
 wasteful as compared with that of intelligent learning. Even ^results 8 
 though the school cannot tell beforehand what studies should 
 survive, it should hold itself to the task of acquiring such 
 experience as will at the earliest available date make possible 
 a definite rational decision. Any other course is not only blind 
 and blundering in method, but imperfect in result. Trial and 
 error learning does not of necessity get the best, but only that 
 which works. The results of free election might give an edu- 
 cation that would keep its patrons at the level of culture which 
 is their standard, but it might at the same time fail by a great 
 deal of giving them the best that they can get. Education is 
 an agency for determining tastes and ideals, as well as for cater- 
 ing to those of the mass of its patrons. 
 
 From time immemorial the school has striven to perform The school 
 this function. Indeed, as an academic institution its solution ^ |j "" 
 of the problem of life has been that of conquering and mold- apostle of 
 ing the instincts, rather than that of showing how circumstances ca ^ e n r a | u 
 can be mastered. Ethically we have been taught humility value3 
 and self-control, to live for ideals which, since they are depend- 
 ent upon ourselves, certainly can be realized. We have 
 been taught to govern our wants by what we can get, "to go 
 to the mountain," instead of worrying about bringing the 
 mountain to ourselves. However, in modern times the greater 
 efficiency of human effort has created so enormous an interest 
 in the practical that it has given rise to a sort of feeling that the 
 ideal can take care of itself. The problem is now no longer 
 to limit our wants to our meager powers, but rather to extend 
 our powers so that we can gratify all our wants. 
 
 The realization of this result is, of course, not only imprac- 
 ticable, but also undesirable. Since our wants contradict
 
 522 Principles of Education 
 
 The school each other, and since the wants of one often conflict with those 
 
 strfvefto f others, we are faced with the problem of rationalizing our 
 
 determine purposes. We must discover what adjustment of instincts 
 
 practicable and ideals is at once the most practicable and the most desir- 
 
 andthe ^jg standard for the guidance of conduct. This problem 
 
 desirable in . 
 
 life the school cannot shirk, since upon it falls the duty of deter- 
 
 mining social heredity, of divining and in a measure marking 
 out the course of progress. It must undertake the task of 
 excluding the useless and the undesirable from the curriculum, 
 and it must, in consequence, develop a method of experimenta- 
 tion and a principle of selection by which progress through the 
 survival of the best may be assured. 
 
 Summary The endeavor to determine the work of the school by refer- 
 
 ence to its bearing on all the aims of life may be characterized 
 as an appeal from academic values to those of utility. Edu- 
 cation by this course loses its isolation and seeks to serve. It 
 aims at efficiency, that is, at that which in the struggle 
 for existence must survive because it has abiding value. In 
 setting up certain values as supreme to the exclusion of others, 
 education became academic. However, the accumulation of 
 a superabundance of material, every phase of which could 
 justify from the academic point of view its place in the curri- 
 culum, created a problem of selection. This problem could be 
 settled only by an appeal to the practical. The laissez faire 
 method of securing this result is seen in the rise of the elective 
 system. This method is faulty in that survival is not thereby 
 determined according to satisfactory criteria. The standard 
 of survival which it brings to bear is not merely the power of 
 the form of culture to make men efficient in realizing admittedly 
 valuable results, but also the attitude of youths toward values 
 that are as yet in question. Hence a free elective system 
 leaves its subjects to stand or fall largely by their appeal to 
 unenlightened caprice in regard to what is really worth while.
 
 The Academic and the Practical 523 
 
 The school is in duty bound to replace blind by intelligent 
 selection, whether this concerns the most efficient methods of 
 gaining certain desirable results, or the determination of results 
 that shall be regarded as desirable. It is bound to take an 
 attitude in regard to the ultimate end of education, because 
 only thus can it gain a criterion by means of which it can deter- 
 mine the relative value of the phases of culture that are possible 
 for it to give. 
 
 SECTION 57. The ultimate end of education 
 
 The question of the ultimate end of education is that of the 
 ultimate aim of life. This fundamental problem of ethics 
 we cannot expect even dogmatically to exploit. However, 
 since the teacher must govern his work by some conviction 
 on this matter, it would seem necessary for a theory of educa- 
 tion to suggest the method by which educational aims can 
 most satisfactorily be defined, and to indicate the leading con- 
 stituents in the educational ideal. 
 
 In our introductory chapter it was contended that the con- utflity as 
 ception of utility is the only criterion by which the school is ^ 
 able to determine among competing lines of study those which ideal 
 should prevail. On the other hand, it was suggested that util- 
 ity is itself an empty conception unless it gets content from 
 those ideals of personal culture which it is the province of the 
 useful to serve. We may take the ground that the curriculum 
 must prepare for efficient living, yet it is evident that this does 
 not relieve us from the necessity of discussing what sort of a 
 life one who may justly be called efficient lives. Efficiency in 
 life is an ideal quality. It is, perhaps, self-preservation ; but 
 self-preservation is with humanity dependent on conformity 
 to conditions which human beings regard as standards of legit- 
 imate, appropriate, or ideal conduct. The appeal to practice
 
 524 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The estab- 
 lished ideal 
 as the con- 
 dition to 
 which 
 progress 
 must con- 
 form 
 
 Internal ori- 
 gin of the 
 positive 
 factors in 
 evolution. 
 
 is essentially a falling back upon the general verdict of human- 
 ity in regard to relative values among various ideals of life. 
 
 In the last section the view that the school should leave to 
 the community the task of determining the curriculum by 
 simply giving or withholding its patronage from this or that 
 course which the school offers was opposed. It was maintained 
 that the school should endeavor to rationalize the various aims 
 of life, that it should study these as they appear in action 
 both historically and to-day, and that its appeal to practice 
 should not be a blind reliance upon the popular verdict of the 
 hour, but rather a rational determination of the experience of 
 the ages. In this universal experience all the academic ideals 
 will be seen to play their part, struggling for existence, deter- 
 mining and being determined. For, once accepted by mankind, 
 an ideal of life becomes a condition of which all other ideals are 
 compelled to take account. The practical of to-day is the net 
 outcome of the progress of humanity in reference to the con- 
 struction and determination of its ideal. 
 
 It is important to note the agreement of this point of view 
 with the general notions of evolution and development which 
 have been adopted and defended in our earlier discussions. 
 The formula that sums up these processes is that of variation 
 and selection. The variation comes from within, the product 
 of unknown forces ; the selection is brought to bear from with- 
 out, from the environment, from the conditions of life. The 
 conditions of life do not explain life, nor any one of its functions. 
 They merely constitute that to which life or any one of its 
 functions must conform in order to remain. No variation that 
 is not practical can survive. 
 
 The positive element in development and evolution comes 
 from within. The external is merely negative, selective. 
 Selection does not account for life, for power of movement, 
 for sensitivity, for cognition, nor for morality. Yet all
 
 The Academic and t/ie Practical 525 
 
 these may be said to have established the relative importance 
 
 they hold in the scheme of evolution because they con- The func- 
 
 formed to the forces that determine survival. The power 
 
 vivc be- 
 
 of movement survives because it enables its possessor cause of 
 to avoid unfavorable and to seek favorable environments. i ty ai 
 Pleasure and pain prove their right to exist by enabling read- 
 justment by the method of trial and error. Cognition is fa- 
 vored by selection because it makes possible ideational read- 
 justment, through which we avoid the loss of life or of vital 
 energy incidental to cruder forms of learning. Morality, too, 
 finds its title to permanence in that it furthers that most 
 helpful of agencies, cooperation. 
 
 But while it is plain that utility constitutes the title of these The higher 
 functions to survival, it can scarcely be urged that it is the ethically 5 
 reason for their existence. For this would imply that we feel more vai- 
 and think, hate and love, and admire the beautiful in order t h an the 
 that we may live. Ethically it would seem that the truth is 
 the exact opposite ; that we live hi order that we may enjoy 
 and suffer and strive to make life more pleasant, more beauti- 
 ful, more intelligent both for ourselves and for others. If 
 life were the valuable thing, and all other functions were worth 
 while merely as contributory to it, we ought to be willing to 
 part with these other functions, provided we could live just as 
 well without them. Yet who would be willing to vegetate as 
 the plant does, if thereby he were assured a life as long as that 
 of the sequoia I Not only would man regard life on such terms 
 as a useless affair, but he ranges his functions on a scale of 
 valuation according to which the latest to appear are, as a 
 rule, rated as the most worthy of honor. Thus he would be 
 unwilling to exchange the higher intellectual and moral life, 
 even though it might involve much unhappiness, for the ex- 
 istence of a hog with every assurance that the wants of his 
 brutish nature would be supplied.
 
 526 Principles of Education 
 
 From the point of view of mere utility, we are conscious in 
 order to live. From the point of view of ethics, we live in 
 order that we may be conscious. In the long run the standard 
 of ethics determines the higher utility. The meaning of evo- 
 lution is to be found in its products, not in its beginnings, in 
 final rather than in efficient causes. Cognition and morality 
 cannot, it is true, fail to conform to the conditions of life, 
 for if they did so fail they would promptly disappear, together 
 with the life that they have failed to protect. On the other 
 hand, the preservation of life on terms that are hostile to the 
 primacy among its interests of cognition and morality is repug- 
 nant to the better judgment of man. We can and do raise the 
 question, "is life worth living," - a question which on the 
 hypothesis that life itself is the supremely valuable thing be- 
 comes impossible and ridiculous. 
 
 We have already emphasized the fact that the higher func- 
 tions bring with them new needs. When they have proved 
 their right to survive by their utility, they incorporate, as it 
 were, their own ideals into the conditions of successful living. 
 To the intelligent being life is not enough, he must have insight 
 as well. Our environments are not merely the physical con- 
 ditions by which we are surrounded, but they are the entire 
 past of the race, with all its progress and achievement. To 
 serve the total established aim of humanity is the higher util- 
 The practical ity, and nothing short of this can be regarded as genuine effi- 
 r th 06 c i enc y- It follows that the essence of the practical is to serve 
 standard- the academic, the accepted, the standardized academic, 
 demic 03 the academic which is the fusion of all genuine recognized 
 ideals of human life, which has been winnowed by selection 
 and found a permanent good. The higher utilities of life 
 Constant re- are subject to a process of reconstruction. Each new product 
 ^oT^fThis of evolution must submit itself to the test of survival, which is 
 standard the test of service. It must help to foster established aims.
 
 The Academic and the Practical 527 
 
 But when it has once justified itself, it becomes part of the 
 established order to which the new competitor for recognition 
 must submit its fate. 
 
 We have spoken of mere utility as that which makes for the Seif-reaii- 
 mere preservation of life. The higher utility means that which 
 serves those interests that make life worth living. It adapts utility 
 us to the standard of life which is a rationalized expression of 
 the experience of the past. There may be said to be another, 
 a highest utility, the essence of which consists in fostering the 
 improvement of standards. To this highest utility the aim 
 of life is not self-preservation or preservation according to 
 existing standards, but rather self-realization. It looks upon 
 human nature as a thing of exhaustless potentialities, and re- 
 gards the exploitation of these unrevealed powers as the high- 
 est service to man. 
 
 Defined as the service of self-realization, this highest utility seif-rcaiiza 
 may seem not like a practical, but rather like a purely ideal 
 value. On the other hand, it is evident that the ideal values 
 become actual, and so are genuinely realized, only by conform- 
 ing to and serving life as it is. The highest utility does not 
 consist in creating new values which are worth while for their 
 own sake. Paradoxical as it may seem, that only is worth 
 while which serves other ends outside itself. Nothing in iso- 
 lation can justify its right to be. Academic seclusion does not 
 save the ideal, but rather destroys it. The knowledge that 
 does not help us to gain some other good thing, wealth, 
 health, beauty, morality, more knowledge, is by that fact 
 rendered of no value and not worth the keeping. Herein lies 
 the necessity of an appeal to practice, to established values. 
 Self-realization is an utility because that which the self creates 
 out of its own resources must serve the general good before it is 
 entitled to rank among the realities of life. Realization is 
 putting into practice, bringing into conformity with things
 
 528 Principles of Education 
 
 as they are, and the service of self-realization is a genuine util- 
 ity because it looks to a future that betters the present only 
 after conforming to its conditions. 
 
 The aim of The method by which the aim of the school is to be discovered 
 foundry 1 '^i therefore, that of rationalizing human practice up to date, 
 rational- an d thereby arriving at what may be called the standard valu- 
 
 ing human . r IT -K.T r i i 
 
 practice ation of life. No way exists for appraising the relative value 
 of various activities except by determining their relation to the 
 total aim of life as revealed in experience. And, it may be 
 added, since experience is never finished, we can never say that 
 all the things for which practice exists are definitely known. 
 The history of evolution is a continuous revelation of new phases 
 of that which seems indispensable to a perfectly satisfactory 
 universe. Nevertheless, within reasonable limits it is perfectly 
 feasible to approximate to a view as to what is worth while that 
 conforms to the experience of the vast majority of mankind. 
 Constituents The constituents of the aim of education include the lower 
 
 " 
 
 cationai " Clitics f mere self-preservation, health, mastery of a 
 aim vocation, ability to get on in society. The standard in ref- 
 
 erence to each of these varies. The health requirements of 
 one age are not so exacting as they may be in the next, and the 
 same is true of vocational skill or social adaptability. Educa- 
 tion is bound to consult the existing standards and to strive to 
 better them where this seems desirable in view of the other aims 
 of life. The aim of the school includes the higher utilities, 
 the ideal values of life, knowledge, beauty, and morality. 
 These values are, as we have seen, grounded in instinct. Curi- 
 osity leads on to the ideal of the intellect, the parental and 
 social instincts lead, when rationalized, toward the ideal of 
 duty, and there are doubtless instinctive preferences of taste 
 which are the foundation of intelligent aesthetic appreciation. 
 Since the ideal is in each case the instinct rationalized, we may 
 speak of it as the ideal of the reason.
 
 The Academic and tJie Practical 529 
 
 It is part of the function of the school to serve and to foster The school 
 the ideals of the reason. This academic task is its traditional ^ r ou t e fos " 
 duty, and there need be no fear that it will lag in an office so Meal* of 
 much to its liking. Nevertheless, since the present tendency 
 is so markedly utilitarian, it is important that the school should 
 realize clearly the place of these ideals of the reason in the 
 higher utilities of life to-day. A society that talks persistently 
 about utility without analyzing its meaning and constituent 
 elements is apt to test results more by the lower utilities than 
 the higher ones. Hence, to speak of the school as utilitarian 
 means to many men to degrade it from its ancient dignity, and 
 to make of it a mere instrument of a materialistic society. 
 
 But the ideals of the reason have become so thoroughly incor- utility of 
 porated into the demands of life that the school cannot be "f"? * 
 
 . . . , the ideals 
 
 utilitarian save through continually cultivating them. From oftherea- 
 time immemorial they have constituted the test by which 
 society has awarded its highest honors, if not its most lavish 
 material rewards. Society recognizes in the ideals of reason its 
 salvation against the anarchic effects of intelligence when this 
 works in the service of self-interest, and against the emptiness 
 of the life that makes the amassing of wealth its sole pursuit. 
 A school that would serve merely the lower utilities would be 
 regarded by society as failing in its service, as neglecting the 
 things that are most useful. Indeed, in our civilization so 
 ingrained is the demand for ideal values, that we tend to ideal- 
 ize the practical and to convert the very gospel of utility into 
 an academic value, that is, one worth while for its own sake. 
 Hence we become wedded to a belief in the supreme excel- 
 lence of the power to get results without reference to the value 
 that these results may have for the other ends of life. 
 
 In idealizing the practical, however, society and the school 
 are unquestionably opening an opportunity for all the values 
 of life to assert themselves and to become to a greater degree 
 
 2 M
 
 530 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The practical 
 world as 
 the meet- 
 ing place of 
 ideal val- 
 ues. Con- 
 sequent 
 process of 
 selection 
 
 Practicabil- 
 ity and de- 
 sirability 
 interde- 
 pendent in 
 the estab- 
 lishment 
 of relative 
 values 
 
 than ever before effective in human practice. The world of 
 activity, of achievement, is the meeting place of men and of 
 ideas. In that world, all things are put to work, are made 
 means to the accomplishment of ends. It is a good thing for 
 the sense of the need of getting things done to be emphasized, 
 even overemphasized. The world is ready for a practical age, 
 in which the lumber of the schools shall be dragged out and 
 either be put to work as material for a new construction of 
 society and industry, or, if such uses cannot be found, be 
 definitely set aside. The idealizing of the practical means the 
 realizing of the ideal, and this realization means that vigorous 
 selection of the products of human power without which a con- 
 sistent, unified, forward movement in human affairs is impossible. 
 The problem of the school may be stated in slightly different 
 phraseology as that of discovering for its pupils that which is 
 desirable and practicable for them to study and to become. 
 The practicable is that which agrees with the conditions of 
 life. However, these conditions are largely of human creation, 
 and can very extensively be changed by the evolution of new 
 attitudes, new ideals, new desires among men. Hence, the 
 problem of determining the practicable is very largely a prob- 
 lem that should take account of the possibility of modifying the 
 conception of the desirable entertained by humanity. On 
 the other hand, the desirable is subject to the test of practice. 
 That which will not work must perforce cease to be desired. 
 Practicability is continually asserting itself to destroy some 
 ideals, to reduce the importance of others, and to enhance the 
 valuation of a few that prove most fundamental and abiding. 
 Among the desirable things the love of truth, of beauty, and of 
 righteousness are most valuable because the knowledge, the 
 art, and the conduct to which they lead are not only worth 
 while for their own sake, but because they furnish, on the 
 whole, the greatest aid to all the other desirable ends of life.
 
 The Academic and the Practical 531 
 
 So far as the school is concerned, it is evident that it has Tendency of 
 thought more of the desirable than it has of the practicable. 
 This is very probably due quite as much to the tendency to to forget 
 follow the line of least resistance in pupils as it is to the aca- J^ P " 
 demic self-absorption of the masters. It is easy to graft upon the 
 instincts of the child the ideals of the reason. It is curious how 
 singular a lack of the sense of the utility of knowledge pupils 
 may possess. From actual tests I am led to believe that at 
 least the majority of an average class of college students will 
 reply to the question "What is the practical value of knowl- 
 edge?" by saying in effect, "To get more knowledge." This 
 answer may be in part the result of their training, but it seems 
 also to indicate that their sense of utility interposes few ob- 
 stacles to the domination of the academic ideal of knowledge. 
 
 It is probable that the motive of utility needs to be empha- Need of cui- 
 sized hi the schools, not so much because it is necessary in order 
 to get interest or effective work, but rather because without 
 such emphasis the child fails to become sufficiently practical. 
 What we need is less dependence on the ideals of the reason, 
 particularly the intellectual ideal, and more upon the judg- 
 ment of relative values. The age of independence in child 
 development should find him not only inspired by academic 
 ideals, but also sobered and made critical by a healthy utilita- 
 rianism. The school should be practical and teach the art 
 of being practical. It should be on the alert to determine by 
 every means in its power the usefulness of its work in promot- 
 ing the total welfare of men. Such an attitude cannot fail 
 to react upon its pupils, filling them with a critical spirit in 
 regard to relative values. 
 
 It is hi the upper departments of our educational system, 
 in secondary and collegiate education, that the divorce between 
 the academic and the practical is most in evidence and does 
 most harm. College students in general are apt to fall into
 
 53 2 Principles of Education 
 
 Bad effect one of two classes. The first of these consists of those who 
 become absorbed in one or several phases of the higher culture. 
 
 the aca- They wish to devote their lives to this. In order to do so they 
 titude on usually take up the profession of teaching, in the hope that they 
 
 (1) the stu- mav thug k e a b} e j- o ij ve more an( j m ore exclusively with their 
 
 dent who J 
 
 readily as- beloved specialty. Such students, however, are frequently 
 sumesit; jjj adapted to teaching. They are simply enamored of a 
 phase of learning, and have paid no attention to the practical 
 value of this in the culture of men, or to the correlative problem 
 of teaching it. In these matters they are not interested ; 
 perhaps cannot become interested. Exclusive devotion to 
 one kind of truth has blinded them to all other phases of life, 
 in a word, to the utilities. Certain interests that are normal 
 and necessary have been atrophied, while all the nutrition has 
 fed the one passion, which, alas ! all too frequently renders its 
 possessor inefficient in the economic struggle for existence. 
 
 (2) the stu- The second class of students are the avowed utilitarians. 
 
 They are in college for the sake of the business value of what 
 they learn, or rather, since this cannot always be clearly dem- 
 onstrated by the professor or appreciated by the student, for 
 the social or professional value of the degree. Such students 
 are, according to our criterion, not less impractical than their 
 idealistic brethren. For while they are not losing sight of the 
 problem of making a living, they arS oblivious to the higher 
 utility of "making a life." Moreover, nothing can be more 
 impractical than to do useless things just because it is the 
 fashion. 
 
 The college that exalts the academic ideal at the expense 
 of the ideal of efficiency harms both classes of students. The 
 idealist may blame it for the ineptitude of many a life out of 
 which a normal utilitarianism has been educated. The utili- 
 tarian may justly complain that, since no attempt was made 
 to square the work he was called upon to do with a sense of
 
 The Academic and tlie Practical 533 
 
 values which is after all healthy, he has been led into idleness, 
 indifference, and shams. 
 
 We may conclude that the ultimate end of education is that Summary 
 of adjusting the young to the realities of life. Since these 
 realities are with man largely established idealities, the utili- 
 tarianism of the school resolves itself to a considerable extent 
 into a service of those aims which have constituted the academic 
 motives of schoolmen. On the other hand, since no aim is 
 permitted to remain in isolation, no knowledge, art, or moral 
 practice will be suffered to survive in social heredity unless it 
 proves its right to exist by its use, that is, by its service to other 
 aims than itself. Thereby alone can its relative value be 
 determined. The method of determining these relative values 
 must be that of rationalizing human practice up to date. 
 Perhaps, also, the school may be able to forecast new ideals of 
 human nature, and by promoting their spread aid in the prog- 
 ress of humanity toward the realization of its potentialities for 
 growth. At any rate, the educational institution is bound to 
 lead the way in philosophic and scientific investigation, in the 
 progressive interpretation of the moral law, and eventually in 
 the advance in artistic taste. 
 
 The constituents of the educational ideal include such funda- 
 mental conditions of self-preservation as health, vocational 
 efficiency, and conformity to the social order. These are factors 
 of the simplest phase of utility. The educational aim concerns 
 the service of the ideals of the reason, knowledge, artistic taste, 
 virtue. These are the higher utilities, because in man's scale 
 of valuation they are held as of greater worth. The highest 
 utility is the service of self-realization, and in the control of 
 this the school may be assigned a voice. But everywhere it 
 must keep close to practice, to relative values, to the gospel of 
 achievement. It must be on the alert to the verdict of practice 
 upon its work. It must combine a wise conservatism with
 
 534 Principles of Education 
 
 willingness ruthlessly to cut loose any form of culture the serv- 
 ice of which has fallen below that which its presence excludes 
 from the curriculum. Especially should the school cultivate 
 the spirit of critical valuation or of utilitarianism among its 
 pupils, for only through this can they achieve the highest 
 service both for themselves and for the society in which they 
 live.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 LIBERAL AND VOCATIONAL EDUCATION 
 
 SECTION 58. The evolution of liberal education 
 
 HISTORICALLY, liberal education has generally meant, as Various 
 the term indicates, education of free men, or aristocrats, 
 and so education for leadership and leisure. On the other education 
 hand, vocational education has meant that training which fits 
 one for gaining a livelihood through economic service of some 
 sort, a species of culture and a career which have been 
 traditionally despised by the upper classes. However, the term, 
 " liberal education," has been used very loosely, and we can 
 distinguish two other main significances that it has possessed. 
 According to the first, liberal education is social and ethical 
 culture, whether it be that of the leader or of the follower. 
 Professor Laurie * defines the education with which he as an 
 historian deals to be "the means which a nation, with more 
 or less consciousness, takes for bringing up its citizens to main- 
 tain the tradition of national character, and for promoting the 
 welfare of the race as an organized ethical community." 
 Such a definition excludes the vocational, and we may take 
 it as one large vague meaning that liberal education is fre- 
 quently thought to have. The third meaning is that of broad 
 as contrasted with narrow education. Here the word "lib- 
 eral" is used in the common signification of "generous." 
 
 All these meanings are interrelated, and they appear in phases 
 of the evolution of that education which can to-day most ap- 
 
 1 History of Pre-Christian Education. 
 535
 
 536 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Evolution of 
 
 propriately be called liberal. We shall offer an outline of that 
 evolution, which will, however, consist in great measure of 
 material that has already appeared in connection with earlier 
 discussions. The special problems associated with the dis- 
 tinctions between liberal and vocational education are suffi- 
 ciently important to warrant the assembling here of whatever 
 concerns it, even at the risk of repetition. 
 
 (1) The first phase in the evolution of liberal education is 
 tne development out of general ethical culture of a distinct 
 
 leadership type suited especially for training in leadership because of the 
 power that it gives in social control. A class with this sort of 
 a special culture appears as a result either of the differentiation 
 from a democratic society of some who are gifted to control, 
 and their endeavor to perpetuate their power in their children, 
 or of the conquest of a race inferior in ethical qualities and 
 training by one more fortunate in these respects. The position 
 of control of the dominant class enables it to develop and to 
 perfect a system of training in morals, manners, ideals, knowl- 
 edge of human nature, military skill and intelligence, religious 
 belief and ceremonial, statecraft, and the like, which serves to 
 maintain the supremacy of their caste. Thus we have the edu- 
 cation of the aristocrat differentiated from that baser culture 
 which serves only the lower needs of life and is supposed to be 
 tolerable only by those who are servile by nature. 
 
 (2) Liberal education evolved from education for leadership 
 j n O e d uca tion for leisure. The governing class inevitably 
 becomes to a great extent a leisure class. The arts of life which 
 have so far been largely of utility in leadership are patronized 
 because they contribute to amusement, to self-glorification, 
 or to those nobler tastes and ideals which the life of reason 
 constructs for itself. Not only does the aristocrat become a 
 patron of education for leisure, but so also do the schoolmen, 
 for whether philosophers, or priests, or artists, whether munifi- 
 
 Expansion of 
 this mto 
 
 education 
 
 for leisure
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 537 
 
 cently patronized by the nobility or left in neglect, they are, 
 to some extent at least, a leisure class. Their academic cul- 
 ture grows out of and remains closely associated with educa- 
 tion for leisure, and both aristocrat and schoolmen look upon 
 the noble enjoyment of leisure as equivalent to doing that 
 which is worth while for its own sake. 
 
 (3) But while education for leadership grows into education Liberal edu- 
 f or leisure with its academic interests, there develops later on a ^^ to 
 rift between them. The academic interest leads to ideas which, become 
 since they are not produced under the constraint of an interest 
 
 in the established method of social control, often run counter 
 to the desires of the ruling class. Hence, as we have seen, 
 schoolmen are restricted to academic issues, and education 
 for leadership remains in a deathlike conservatism. Under 
 these circumstances the term liberal education may more 
 appropriately be applied to the education of the school, in so far 
 as this possesses genuine freedom and power of growth. 
 
 (4) Nevertheless, the divorce between the education of the The higher 
 school and education for social control is not permanent. 
 
 The views of life that are evolved by men of thought inevitably cpnstruc- 
 react upon the conduct of men of action, and the school which methods of 
 fosters thought, since after all it is in and of the world, must |j 
 eventually make its ideas known and felt. This happens 
 even though both thinkers and aristocrats combine to keep 
 the disturbing ideas from becoming current, cynically condon- 
 ing a social order which conscience pronounces unjust and 
 reason unsound, as did the Illuminati in the days of Louis XIV. 
 The fearless frankness of those who cannot conceal the truth 
 because of self-interest combines with numberless subtle ways 
 in which ideas are diffused, until at last the suspicions of the 
 submerged mass are roused to join the forces making for the 
 reconstruction of a social order that the better judgment of 
 humanity has declared unsound.
 
 538 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Rise of a new 
 democratic 
 culture for 
 leadership 
 
 Liberal edu- 
 cation as 
 prepara- 
 tion for 
 leadership 
 in any 
 vocation 
 
 When academic conceptions begin to play a part in the re- 
 construction of the methods of social control, the education of 
 the school becomes again a part of the preparation for leader- 
 ship. In the democratic political conditions that now appear, 
 leadership is more and more felt to be a service which those of 
 superior ability and education should render without regard to 
 the rank in society from which they have sprung. Leadership 
 becomes a vocation dependent in part upon the proper culture, 
 rather than a status conferred by birth. It becomes service 
 for pay, rather than exploitation by those who through conquest 
 or the custom that sanctions hereditary right are enabled to 
 exact what they want without reference to equivalent return 
 service. 
 
 Thus liberal education begins and ends with a utility. It 
 begins in preparation for leadership, not as a profession which 
 can get pay for its service, but rather as the clever art of a class, 
 by means of which it retains its supremacy. Later, liberal 
 education evolves into education for leisure, academic, apart 
 from the world and its utilities. Still later, it gains a new 
 utility, as the preparation for leadership in a democratic so- 
 ciety, where such activity is recognized as a vocation. 
 
 (5) The learning of the school does not confine itself to the 
 criticism and the reconstruction of political life, but it also 
 brings about the exaltation of the humble vocations. It 
 takes command of the human situation, and whatever it touches 
 rises in importance and dignity. As a result of the body of 
 learning that their practice in its higher phases comes to involve, 
 medicine, teaching in all grades of the school, engineering, 
 trade, industry, art, and literature become professions. 
 
 The professional man may be denned as the leader in a vo- 
 cation, one whose preparation has involved so much material 
 as to make him capable of understanding and taking part 
 in the highest types of work which his vocation undertakes.
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 539 
 
 To do this he must have a mastery of the scientific foundation 
 of his special work. He must have a liberal preparation for it. 
 Liberal education thus becomes education for leadership, not 
 merely in political life, but in any other activity. As politics 
 becomes a profession, so all other vocations gain a professional 
 phase. To reach the professional phase of any vocation a 
 liberal education is necessary. The leaders of society come 
 to include all who are preeminent in any profession that has 
 been vitalized by the higher thought. The political leader 
 could in the past without ridicule arrogate to himself the posi- 
 tion of leader and dictator in whatsoever phase of thought or 
 action he chose. To-day, when leadership is seen to depend 
 on professional preparation, such an attitude is regarded as the 
 harmless folly of those to whom the idea of "the divine right 
 of kings" is not yet obsolete. 
 
 (6) Liberal education, as education for leadership in the Liberal edu- 
 various vocations, is much or broad education. It gives that ^ 
 knowledge of fundamental principles which enables a treat- readjust- 
 ment of the new situations with which it is the peculiar task 
 of the leader to cope. It is education for readjustment, ra- 
 tional education. But the demand for readjustment in modern 
 life is broader than the vocation. To lead in any vocation 
 one must have such knowledge as enables him to make of his 
 own specialty not only an indispensable servant to society, 
 but also an independent force therein. In preparing for this 
 general leadership in social life, liberal education must give 
 a training in the fundamental principles of social cooperation, 
 the principles that underlie the life in which the vocation 
 plays only a part. It must include not only training for 
 leadership, but also a rationalized form of that social and 
 ethical culture out of which training in leadership originally 
 sprang. 
 
 The steps in the evolution of liberal education are, then, the Summary
 
 540 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 differentiation of culture for political leadership from the gen- 
 eral social and ethical culture of the community ; the develop- 
 ment from this of education for leisure ; the separation of 
 academic culture from that for social control, with a coincident 
 advance of the former and conservation of the latter ; the 
 reconstruction of social and political life through the applica- 
 tion to it of the conceptions developed by the schoolmen, with 
 a resulting profession of political leadership, requiring as a 
 preparation liberal education ; the reconstruction of all the 
 vocations through the application thereto of science, and the 
 consequent development of leadership in any vocation into a 
 profession, to prepare for which a liberal culture is necessary. 
 Lastly, since leadership means mastery and power to readjust, 
 liberal education must include training in such power, ra- 
 tional culture, broader than the vocation, and involving 
 training in social cooperation. Thus liberal culture has come 
 to embody all its meanings : social and ethical education, 
 education for leadership, education for leisure, broad edu- 
 cation. These conceptions are united in education for leader- 
 ship, which, since it is preparation for a profession, has come 
 to have a vocational as well as an aristocratic character. 
 
 Aristocratic 
 leadership 
 not re- 
 garded as 
 a vocation 
 
 SECTION 59. The rise of "vocational training 
 
 The ordinary notion of a vocation is that of a specialized 
 occupation by which one may be able to get a living. When 
 we apply this conception both to historic and to present condi- 
 tions, it needs some amendment. The business of social control 
 has been from time immemorial the most richly rewarded 
 occupation. Yet men have not commonly held it to be a vo- 
 cation, because its rewards came not as definite payment for 
 a recognized service, but as the spoils of a system of exploita- 
 tion. The growth of leadership into a vocation has come about
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 541 
 
 by the exaltation of the ideal of service, and by the rise of a 
 democratic society in which it is coming to be felt that the only 
 legitimate source of income is a service to which is attached 
 a definite hire. 
 
 Again, the business of social control early developed an The profe*- 
 elaborate cultural basis associated not only with its utility, 
 but also with the leisure, the academic interests of life. The from the 
 existence of such a basis has caused this occupation to be dif- byt Tcui- 
 ferentiated from other vocations. On the other hand, wher- turaibasu 
 ever an occupation acquired a somewhat similar foundation 
 in learning or science, it rose in rank and became distinct from 
 the ordinary service for pay. It became a profession the 
 peculiar quality of which is found in the fact that the culture 
 and the ability that it requires of those who practice it allies 
 it with distinction, aristocracy, leadership. Thus, while, on 
 the one hand, social control becomes a profession by acquir- 
 ing the character of service that hitherto belonged to the ordi- 
 nary vocations, so other vocations became professions through 
 the acquisition of a cultural basis such as was at first possessed 
 exclusively by the art of social control. 
 
 The so-called learned professions, law, ministry, teaching, The learned 
 and even medicine, are offshoots of the art of social control. asinvohN 
 They illustrate the earlier fields in which this art gets definitely "* **>& 
 
 J ... social con- 
 
 into the form of a vocation. In these professions an opportu- tro i ^j 
 nity was offered for any gifted man to attain a position midway, 
 as it were, between the aristocracy who control and the people 
 who serve. On the one hand, the lawyer, the priest, and the 
 teacher became experts in phases of that culture which had been 
 in the past so important an asset for a governing class. They 
 were learned in some form of the art of social control. On the 
 other hand, they served for pay, and in that were differentiated 
 from the genuine aristocracy. However, they prepared the 
 way for the conception that social control should in all its phases 
 
 sen-ice
 
 542 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 The profes- 
 sions as 
 creative of 
 the first 
 vocational 
 schools 
 
 The decline 
 of appren- 
 ticeship 
 and its 
 
 be a definite service for a stipulated reward; that is, a gen- 
 uine profession. 
 
 The rise of the profession meant the advent of an elaborate 
 form of vocational training by the school. But the growth of 
 democracy and the reconstruction of industrial life by applied 
 science have made it necessary that the school should undertake 
 the preparation for vocations not intellectual enough to war- 
 rant their being called professions. More and more the system 
 of apprenticeship, originally adequate to prepare for such call- 
 ings, has broken down, and the vocational school, which, as 
 distinguished from the professional school, prepares for occu- 
 pations requiring a smaller amount of training, has come to 
 be a recognized part of our educational system. 
 
 The system of apprenticeship has failed for two reasons. 
 First, the organization of modern industry has left the mature 
 workers in any field little opportunity or incentive to train 
 apprentices. They tend to work in organized groups, rather 
 than singly, and where such is the case each, instead of conduct- 
 ing on his own account a business with many phases, works 
 at a special task which is only part of a total business, the 
 control of which lies in the hands of some captain of industry. 
 Such a worker has nothing to give an apprentice to do, and no 
 motive, except that of kindly interest, for offering him instruc- 
 tion. Hence, the apprentice is crowded out, and the employer, 
 in order to get properly prepared recruits for his service, has 
 in some cases set up vocational schools. Second, the applica- 
 tion of science to the arts of life has made the preparation for 
 any vocation require a certain amount of such education in 
 science as has never been given by apprenticeship, nor by any 
 other agency than a school. Moreover, the specialized nature 
 of the work of men in the vocations renders apprenticeship to 
 them too narrow as experience to give an adequate preparation 
 for anything except a very specific task. Such a limitation
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 543 
 
 is highly undesirable, since it makes for a lack of flexibility, 
 a dependence, which it is the purpose of modern democratic 
 education to avoid. 
 
 The rise of vocational education has, therefore, been due first, Vocational 
 to the reconstruction of the lower vocations and the creation ^""oThc 
 of the professions by the utilization of the materials of learning rcconstruc 
 and of science, and second, to the coincident gam in human 
 
 respect for service for pay. Both these advances are due to and "' 
 
 n ..-< i rv 
 
 the development of the higher learning, including ethics, phi- spect for 
 losophy and science, and it might be proper to point out the 
 main steps in the process by which this culture advanced to a 
 position in which it was enabled to effect such ethical and 
 industrial changes. 
 
 The art of social control from which the higher culture sprang The first 
 was essentially an art of controlling wills. This art was so 
 all-absorbing an one in early culture that not only the govern- in the con- 
 ment of men, but also the dealing with nature took the form J^ 
 of methods of influencing volition. Medicine consisted largely 
 of the exorcism of evil spirits, religion of the propitiation of 
 the supernatural powers, and science of the study of the edicts 
 of the stars or the whims of nature deities. Among the leading 
 minds the custom obtained of gaining their ends by commands, 
 bribes, threats, punishment, suggestion, cajolery, or persuasion, 
 and when they came to deal with natural forces, they fell back 
 on these familiar devices, instead of hunting for those uniform 
 antecedents, or causes, the production of which will by mechan- 
 ical rather than teleological compulsion bring about the desired 
 result. 
 
 In connection with this art of controlling wills there grew up Traditional 
 a body of tradition that was eventually committed to writing. f e t h c i r s 
 The preservation of written records is, of course, the main control 
 instrumentality by which haphazard observations are com- 
 pared and generalized, the generalizations to be again tested
 
 544 Principles of Education 
 
 and verified. As a result of ages of such comparison, the neces- 
 sity of a scientific method is forced upon the human mind. 
 This attitude comes with a prelude of skepticism, which springs 
 from the recognition of the failure of the methods that tradition 
 has so devotedly preserved. 
 
 Evolution of The evolution of a rationalized practice in regard to the 
 controfof control of nature and men involved three stages, (i) The 
 men and earlier, cruder methods of controlling wills by cunning or force 
 were replaced by the more refined and ethical practice of per- 
 suasion. (2) The phases of practice that involve a genuine 
 appeal to volition were separated from those that involve 
 merely a mastery of natural law. (3) The natural laws that 
 govern volition, as well as the ethical principles that should 
 control it, were studied, and social control was given a basis hi 
 natural science as well as in ethics. 
 
 (0 The age (i) As society grows older its institutions tend toward a 
 ka^con- 08 certain rationality. A government that continually resorts to 
 troi. Rise coercion and subterfuge is only a short remove from anarchy, 
 by persua- Stability means uniform law, and law that works fairly well 
 sionandso j n p rac ti c e. Law that conforms to these requirements will 
 
 by justice 
 
 not only be accepted, but will seem, to the majority at least, as 
 reasonable. The rule of privileged classes in early civilization 
 is regarded as not only inevitable, because of their power, but 
 as best for society, because only thus do the lower orders get 
 justice, protection from enemies, and, in general, that stable 
 social condition without which the practice of their crafts is 
 fruitless. Thus the successful practice of social control comes 
 to mean such law as will seem to men reasonable and will 
 persuade rather than coerce them into compliance. When 
 once mankind has come to expect ethical government, all 
 proposals for change must, if they prove effective, be made to 
 agree with the general sense of right. In the conflict of inter- 
 ests that history is bound to involve, there is a constant appeal
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 545 
 
 by the rival parties to this underlying justice. Government 
 comes to be more and more, not the art of forcing or tricking 
 men to do what one wants, but rather that of discovering that 
 wisest, fairest course to which they cannot fail to give their 
 assent if they think. The science of social control drifts away 
 from the art of domineering, and becomes the study of justice. 
 A somewhat similar result springs from the accumulation of 
 data concerning the therapeutics of incantations, the prayers 
 for personal prosperity and the confounding of one's enemies, 
 the art of divination, etc. The exposure of the futility of these 
 practices leads to the view that the gods are not to be influ- 
 enced by the ordinary appeals which are efficacious with men, 
 but rather that they follow their own inscrutable devices. 
 The reverence in which they are held causes their will inevitably 
 to be regarded as the highest justice, a justice that would 
 be plainly apparent, if only one could fathom their purposes. 
 "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." The endeavor 
 to control the will of the supernatural powers resolves itself 
 into an endeavor to comprehend Divine Justice, and here again 
 we have the study of ethics. 
 
 Thus the earlier tradition in regard to the devices for control- The practice 
 ling wills drifts into a study of the teleology of life. The idea 
 
 of the Good is, as in the system of Plato, held to explain all 
 things, and to be the secret of all power. The statesman sets O f final 
 before mankind the ideals for which government should strive, 
 and if humanity does not obey, is not influenced thereby, so 
 much the worse for humanity. The physician becomes pos- 
 sessed of a theory of cure, partly founded on empirical knowl- 
 edge, but more largely a theory of what health is and how, in 
 consequence, it should ideally be promoted. The teacher also 
 feels that his duty is done when the truth is presented, and 
 only to inherent evil can be ascribed the failure of the child to 
 respond. The child who does not learn is held to deserve pun- 
 
 2N
 
 546 Principles of Education 
 
 ishment, as one whose defect is moral, not as one whose case 
 is to be mastered and controlled through the principles of gen- 
 etic psychology. Philosophy concerns itself with final causes, 
 and science endeavors to conceive the perfect, in the confident 
 assurance that from this it will be able to deduce all the facts 
 of experience. 
 The teleo- The teleological age in the evolution of science is responsible 
 
 ifd C th age ^ or one i m P or tant gain in reference to the rise of the vocation. 
 
 enhance- It prepared the way for the elevation of the ideal of service. 
 
 dignity of 6 A government that aims at justice cannot fail to regard its right 
 
 service to exist as dependent upon its service to its people. Chris- 
 tianity found ethical satisfaction in a Leader who was regarded 
 as essentially a Servant. The ideal of humility in doing the 
 will of God led to the conception that the highest quality even 
 of an aristocracy was that of helping some righteous cause. 
 Hence chivalry idealized the motto "I serve." To be sure, 
 it was only in modern times that the taking of pay for service 
 came to be regarded as other than debasing. It was necessary 
 that progress in ethics should reach the point of creating de- 
 mocracy before this result could be attained. For there was 
 need, not only that service should be exalted, but also that 
 exploitation be brought into question, and that the ground 
 should thus be cut beneath the feet of any source of income 
 except the pay for service, before men were reconciled to the 
 view that the laborer is not in a measure disgraced by receiving 
 the reward of which he is worthy. It is not meant that exploi- 
 tation has by any means been put to rout, as a phase of econ- 
 omic life. Yet it is certain that it has not only lost its ancient 
 honor, but has come under suspicion, while service for pay 
 has gained recognition as a transaction the details of which 
 are so open to inspection that any injustice is likely to get the 
 criticism it deserves. 
 
 (2) The teleological age, so far as natural science was con-
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 547 
 
 cerned, received its death blow in the period of which Bacon is (,) Nature 
 the philosophic representative. It was seen that the contem- 
 plation of final causes does not reveal any explanation of the of 
 phenomena of nature upon which prediction can be based. Uw 
 Indeed, Socrates had made this discovery, and had taken it 
 to mean that philosophy is of little practical utility except in 
 the field of ethics. However, the Renaissance advanced be- 
 yond the Ancients in recognizing the tremendous value of 
 scientific method in observation, generalization, and verifica- 
 tion. Thus natural science began to gain results, and infused 
 with new confidence, it proceeded to claim the entire realm 
 of the physical. Teleology was replaced by mechanical causa- 
 tion. Ultimately, the application of scientific law to practice 
 began to yield extraordinary gains, and the world became 
 thoroughly imbued with the spirit of looking to science rather 
 than to ethics to find the secret by which men may gain the 
 mastery of things. The effect of applied science in differentiat- 
 ing into a profession the upper phases of those vocations which 
 deal with the physical world and especially with mechanical 
 agencies has already been indicated, as has also the correspond- 
 ing reorganization of industry and the resulting need of voca- 
 tional schools for even the lower grades of workers. 
 
 (3) The study of natural causation does not cease with the (3) Social 
 confines of the physical world. Psychology comes to be treated " n l 7o be 
 as a natural science, and sociology and even ethics have their matter 
 facts and their natural laws, which all who would influence law 
 man must respect. The inroads of the spirit of natural science 
 into these realms, that to Socrates were the exclusive domain 
 of teleology, has resulted in a reconstruction of the professions 
 that concern themselves extensively with social control. 
 Teaching comes to mean, not merely to know one's subject, 
 but also how to present it successfully. The ministry becomes 
 a service of scientific philanthropy, as well as an exhortation to
 
 548 Principles of Education 
 
 remember and prepare for the hereafter. Even law becomes 
 touched by the dawning apprehension that its justice and its 
 penalties must take account of the facts of human nature. 
 The legislator and the judge realize that some laws cannot 
 and others will not be obeyed, that punishment should protect 
 society and aim to reform the culprit, as well as to uphold the 
 majesty of justice. 
 
 AH profes- In all this there is much of ethics, but there is also a consider- 
 able infusion of the spirit of natural science. The learned pro- 
 
 come sci- 
 
 entific fessions are coming to require as a preparation more than learn- 
 ing in traditions and an apprenticeship in promulgating the 
 ideas and the practices which they represent. It is necessary 
 to know human nature and society in a fairly scientific way in 
 order to rationalize with an approach to adequacy the practice 
 of these callings. 
 
 Review of If one were to review the actual history of vocational instruc- 
 vocationaf ^ on ^ e wou ld begin with the learned professions, theology, 
 schools law, teaching, and medicine. We have here the four faculties 
 of the medieval university, since the faculty of philosophy 
 may be said to have had in view the profession of teaching, 
 as well as the purely academic aim of instructing in philosophy 
 and the like. Then follows the establishment of schools for 
 the military and naval professions, and for engineering in its 
 various forms. Then schools for agriculture, commerce, and 
 industry appear. Lastly, we are in recent years turning various 
 political and social services associated with government into 
 professions. Thus philanthropy and the diplomatic service 
 are coming to have special schools. Doubtless, shortly, 
 journalism will be similarly provided for. Eventually, there is 
 reason to believe that nearly all of the political offices will 
 come to demand a professional preparation. The beginnings 
 of this movement are to be seen in the growth of a professional 
 civil service. There is no reason why the functions of govern-
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 549 
 
 ment cannot be more efficiently performed by men trained to 
 this profession and enjoying a fairly permanent tenure, than by 
 men elected at haphazard to hold for only a short time, provided 
 the possibility of the abuse of power on their part is checked by 
 proper inspection and publicity in regard to their efficiency. 
 
 In resume, it may be noted that vocational training as given Summary 
 in the school springs from the rise of vocations that demand 
 school training. Such vocations arose from two sources. 
 First, the art of social control grew into a number of vocations 
 through the breaking off of the learned professions and the 
 gradual differentiation of other phases of government into 
 callings pursued by pay. This process was favored by the 
 rise of democracy and the exaltation of the ideal of service. 
 Second, the vocations that in earlier civilization were held as 
 servile have with the application to them of scientific founda- 
 tions become transformed so that one can no longer prepare 
 for them by apprenticeship, but school training has become 
 necessary. Moreover, those higher departments of such work 
 for which an elaborate scientific foundation is required have 
 come to be regarded as professions on a par with the callings 
 that are concerned with social control, if, indeed, they do not 
 involve a measure of the ability to manage men. The condition 
 of these changes has been the development of that learning 
 which was originally associated with the art of controlling wills. 
 It first grew into ethics and teleological science. In this form 
 it aided in the democratic reconstruction of the ideals of govern- 
 ment and of service. Then there appeared a separation be- 
 tween the province of teleological and that of natural science. 
 Finally, natural science became applied to industry, and also to 
 those psychological and social phenomena that are concerned 
 in social control. Thus it became the natural foundation for 
 all professions, both those which arose from the earlier servile 
 vocations and those which sprang from the art of social control.
 
 550 Principles of Education 
 
 SECTION 60. The function of education in a democracy 
 
 Definition of The form of government toward which the advanced nations 
 racy of the world seem drifting is that of democracy. The cele- 
 brated definition of Lincoln, that democracy is " government 
 of the people, by the people, and for the people," is, perhaps, 
 the most successful characterization of this form of political 
 control. The essential element in Lincoln's conception is that 
 it regards government as a service which aims at promoting 
 the welfare of each as much as is possible consistently with 
 the welfare of all. Both from the practical and the ethical 
 points of view, this service means after once the requirements 
 of public order have been met the opening up of opportu- 
 nities for individual improvement, whether material, mental, 
 or moral, and the equalization of these opportunities so as to 
 secure a just distribution of the advantages of social life. 
 
 Education According to this conception of democracy, the part of edu- 
 
 dispeoaer cat ion therein becomes of fundamental importance. For the 
 of oppor- opportunities that man in civilized conditions can get are 
 
 tumties r 
 
 largely due to the structure, pursuits, and interests of society, 
 and these in turn are transmitted by social heredity or educa- 
 tion. To be able to appreciate and to take advantage of the 
 opportunities that society affords, one must have received the 
 corresponding education. The government that endeavors 
 to create or to distribute the opportunities that express them- 
 selves as social situations must make education a fundamental 
 concern. 
 
 The Uissez- Although the consideration just recounted is the fundamental 
 opposecTto reason why democracies must educate, historically other rea- 
 natbnai sons were the first to be urged. Popular government in modern 
 
 education 
 
 times came under the inspiration of a longing for liberty, for 
 release from the exactions and tyrannies of the absolutistic 
 forms of control then prevailing. In consequence, it early
 
 erament 
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 551 
 
 attached itself to the policy of laissez faire, according to which 
 no justification could be found for the promotion of education 
 by the state. It was the necessity, rather than the theory, 
 of democracy that led to the beginnings of popular systems of 
 education. In the United States, Washington, Jefferson, and, sute educ.- 
 above all, Horace Mann, the greatest influence in the revival tion . ? **" 
 
 ill / scntuu to 
 
 and development of the common school in the nineteenth cen- seif-gov- 
 tury, urged that a government by the people was impossible 
 without popular education. Democracy, according to these 
 men, could not survive unless it attended to the preparation 
 of its citizens for the work of self-government. Horace Mann 
 points out that the blind propensities of human nature are such 
 that without restraint they lead to anarchy and overwhelm 
 all. Democracy loosens the restraint of fear and of arbitrary 
 authority. It must supply the restraint of intelligence, or 
 perish by the forces that it has itself released. 
 
 "My proposition therefore is simply this: If republican 
 institutions do wake up unexampled energies in the whole mass 
 of a people, and give them implements of unexampled power 
 in order to work out their will, then these same institutions 
 ought also to confer upon that people unexampled wisdom and 
 rectitude. If these institutions give greater scope and impulse 
 to the lower order of faculties belonging to the human mind, 
 then they must also give more authoritative control and more 
 skillful guidance to the higher ones. If they multiply tempta- 
 tions, they must also fortify against them. If they quicken 
 the activity and enlarge the sphere of the appetites and pas- 
 sions, they must, at least in an equal ratio, establish the author- 
 ity and extend the jurisdiction of reason and conscience. In 
 a word, we must not add to the impulsive, without also adding 
 to the regulative forces." 1 
 
 The only regulative force adequate to this task is, in the opin- 
 ion of Horace Mann, education. Here, then, we find a justi- 
 
 1 Necessity of Education in a Republican Government.
 
 552 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 Higher edu- 
 cation as 
 a cure for 
 political 
 corrup- 
 tion 
 
 Contention 
 that edu- 
 cation fa- 
 vors crime 
 
 Error of this 
 notion 
 
 fication for the abandonment of the policy of laissez faire. 
 The government must strive to preserve itself, and the only 
 efficient way of doing so is to provide for education, and, in- 
 deed, to make it compulsory. 
 
 A similar argument has in modern times frequently been 
 advanced to defend higher education. It has been supposed 
 that the salvation of the nation might be found in the ideals 
 of those who are graduated from her secondary schools and 
 colleges. In them it is hoped that we may obtain political 
 leaders whose notion of service is not "graft," but rather the 
 welfare of the body politic. President Butler, 1 for example, 
 finds in education a means by which public service may be 
 rescued from the grip of the spoilsman, and given over to the 
 efficient. 
 
 It will be noticed that both these views attribute to educa- 
 tion the function of moral culture. Indeed, it is evident that 
 the moral phase of education is emphasized more than the 
 intellectual one. There are, however, those who would main- 
 tain that the education of the modern school, instead of promot- 
 ing the moral life, has in fact tended to destroy it. For ex- 
 ample, in the last decade of the nineteenth century a number 
 of prominent review writers brought out the idea that the 
 statistics of crime show an increase in those countries in which 
 popular systems of education had recently been built up. 
 Such a result, they maintained, might have been expected, 
 for education rouses the discontent of the needy and sharpens 
 the wits of the knave, thus provoking crime and equipping 
 with means for its more successful prosecution. 2 
 
 The statistics by which these notions were supported have 
 been shown to have been misinterpreted, where they were not 
 
 1 Democracy and Education. 
 
 2 This controversy is summarized in Report of Commissioner of Education 
 of the United States, 1898-1899, Ch. XXVIII.
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 553 
 
 positively erroneous. The apparent increase in crime was in 
 most cases due to more accurate and complete records of the 
 arrests made, or to the greater efficiency of the officers of the 
 law in apprehending criminals, or to legislative enactments 
 by which acts hitherto not crimes were made such. On the 
 whole, it seems likely that increase in education means a 
 decrease in crime. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is evident that our system of education, in Need of more 
 avoiding the religious, has also neglected the moral for the sake 
 of the intellectual. Against this deficiency the last decade has education 
 seen a vigorous revolt. That the cultivation of the ethical 
 ideals and the practice of devotion to the public service should 
 be a fundamental aim of the school, there can be no doubt, 
 and we shall probably see in a few years a reconstruction of 
 the program of instruction in order to accomplish more effi- 
 ciently this function. Meanwhile, it should be noted that 
 intellectual culture may have a profound reaction upon public 
 affairs, leading to a purification from control by blind passion 
 or by unscrupulous greed. 
 
 The nature of this reaction is found in the regulating effects intellectual 
 of a cultivation both of shrewdness and of prudence. A nation Baking for 
 of intelligent men will not permit the spoilsman to govern, be- 
 cause it is evidently not in the interest of the body of voters 
 that such a condition should prevail. The pursuit of private 
 ends ultimately brings many, if not most, men across the trail 
 of the politician, and if this personage be not more clever than 
 his constituents, his perquisites will eventually be plucked 
 away by those upon whom they have surreptitiously been 
 levied. Thus shrewd self-interest in each is the parent of a 
 fair amount of enforced rectitude in all. Honesty is made to 
 be the best policy, and a prudential morality helps to promote 
 the public good. 
 
 One cannot for a moment contend that such a regime of
 
 554 Principles of Education 
 
 shrewdness and prudence is a satisfactory substitute for genuine 
 moral interest in the welfare of the community. Nevertheless, 
 it is undoubtedly indispensable to a democratic state, not only 
 that the people should be morally well disposed, but also that 
 they should be keenly alive to the effects of public acts or 
 negligences and to the efficiency of public servants. That our 
 national education can be improved as an agency for moral 
 culture does not mean that its intellectual training has not been 
 and will not continue to be of fundamental importance in foster- 
 ing public as well as private welfare. This mental training, 
 without which moral culture would be inadequate to suppress 
 either the propensities of the citizen or the cupidity of the 
 professional politician, contributes also to another aim of 
 democracy, the equalizing of opportunities. This third pur- 
 pose is, as has been contended, even more fundamental than 
 the others. 
 
 Democracy a The laws of nature, particularly of human nature, make this 
 es P ec i au< y difficult. The efficiency of some as contrasted 
 
 natural with others is bound continually to be capitalized in such 
 ward aris- forms as to increase their original advantage. "To him that 
 tocracy hath shall be given." Nature tends toward differentiation, 
 aristocracy. Nature creates the aristocracy of the organic 
 world, with man as the lord of all. The moral sense of man 
 has, however, created society at the expense of the greatest 
 of differentiating agencies, the principle of natural selection. 
 If nature makes aristocracy, man makes democracy. Society, 
 religion, Christianity, all these are but stages toward that 
 goal of the moral sense, the brotherhood of man, the exact 
 nature of which is, doubtless, as yet very imperfectly compre- 
 hended. But democracy continually encounters the natural 
 drift toward differentiation and aristocracy. Prestige, prop- 
 erty, and family solidarity give advantages to some which 
 they do not, from the ethical point of view, deserve. These
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 
 
 555 
 
 warfare on 
 the "un- 
 earned in- 
 crement 
 of prestige, 
 property, 
 and culture 
 
 advantages are a sort of "unearned increment." Prestige 
 makes the commonplaces of certain men seem more wise 
 than the profound insights of others. The rich can easily 
 make an amount of money utterly beyond the power of poor 
 men of similar talent. The handicap of a better family gives 
 its possessor an advantage that cannot be overcome by the 
 humbly born, except he possesses extraordinary ability. 
 
 Democracy continually wars against this "unearned incre- 
 ment." But it is quite as continually compelled to question 
 the possibility, even the desirability of success in this struggle. Democracy a 
 It cannot destroy prestige. Perhaps it ought not to do so, 
 for prestige helps men to single out those from whom they 
 may expect good results. It should not destroy property, 
 because property is not only a just reward for deserts, but also 
 an invaluable incentive to endeavor. Least of all, should 
 democracy interfere, after the fashion recommended by Plato, 
 with that family inheritance of culture which stimulates so 
 large a measure of the self-sacrifice among men. On the other 
 hand, we are constantly robbing prestige of that permanent 
 value which causes it to tyrannize over human judgment. 
 More and more does society compel the later work of its heroes 
 to submit to the same tests as have their earlier successes. 
 Prestige continues to secure attention, but it is no longer so 
 certain as of yore to compel acceptance. Again, as far as 
 economic conditions are concerned, the United States early 
 abandoned the practice of laissez faire, and entered upon a 
 policy of endeavoring to create new opportunities. New 
 territory was acquired to offer a foothold to those who had not 
 acquired property within the existing limits of the country. 
 Internal improvements, the subsidizing of railroads, the pro- 
 tective tariff, the post office and the like are examples of the 
 methods by which the nation has endeavored to develop new 
 conditions in which the handicap of those who have established
 
 556 Principles of Education 
 
 a grip upon the prevailing opportunities shall not work so con- 
 clusively to the disadvantage of such as from chance or ineffi- 
 ciency, either in themselves or in their parents, have been left 
 among the unprosperous. 
 
 Necessity of Democracy has even done something to interfere with the 
 handicaps that spring from family solidarity. The agitation 
 
 inheritance for laws that shall limit the amount of wealth that can be 
 handed on from an individual to his heirs, and the actual 
 enactment of considerable legislation in that direction indicate 
 the ideals and the temper of the time. Such methods are dif- 
 ficult to employ, because they are negative. They do not cre- 
 ate opportunities, but take away advantages. They could not 
 be employed in reference to the inheritance of culture, for it 
 would be impossible either in fact or in ethics to limit the zeal 
 of the parent in furthering the welfare of the child through 
 education. On the other hand, the positive method of creating 
 opportunities seems here peculiarly appropriate. The state 
 can offer through the school an education the excellence of 
 which will go far toward swamping out the advantages in train- 
 ing that spring from fortunate parentage. Indeed, here in 
 education democracy finds its principal agency for equaliz- 
 ing the opportunities of the young. 
 
 Reasons why Several reasons conspire to cause education to outrank in 
 f^the^best value all other agencies for creating and equalizing oppor- 
 agency for tunities. First of all, public education does not take away 
 
 equalizing , . .. 
 
 opportuni- from some, except in taxes for its support, to give to 
 ties others, but gives freely and equally to all. Second, it gives 
 
 only to those who are capable and willing to make the effort 
 to obtain it, thus satisfying the ethical sense of the scientific 
 philanthropist, who fears the pauperizing effect of gifts. Third, 
 it gives to the young, destroying in a measure the inequalities 
 of the parentage for which they are not responsible. Fourth, 
 education, unlike governmental efforts to open up material
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 557 
 
 resources to the exploitation of the enterprising, does not give 
 something easily to be monopolized by clever, scheming men, 
 thus proving a source of private gain rather than of public 
 benefit. Indeed, too frequently new material resources, instead 
 of turning out to be the opportunity of the needy, have been 
 seized upon by those whose business resources gave them a 
 handicap. Thus they so far failed to equalize opportunities 
 that they actually exaggerated the advantage of those whose 
 fortunes were already in the ascendant. Fifth, education 
 increases the efficiency of the service of the individual, and this 
 factor is in economic history continually coming to have a 
 greater relative value than wealth. The individual who pos- 
 sesses little or no capital, but whose services are valuable, is 
 thus as time goes on more likely to be in a better economic 
 position than one with considerable wealth but little individual 
 efficiency. With the increase in productive power brought 
 about by modern economic progress, wealth can be produced 
 far more quickly and easily. The effort even of unskilled labor 
 thus grows more valuable as compared with the value of the 
 product. But if this be true of untrained and inferior service, 
 how much more true is it of that which is trained and superior ! 
 Education, in increasing the value of service, is thus deter- 
 mining the factor which will more and more dominate the eco- 
 nomic relations of men. The leaders in business, as in every 
 other department of life, are coming to be those whose service 
 is most effective, rather than those whose wealth is greatest. 
 Thus the test of efficiency in the vocation, instead of that of 
 ancestry or material resources or any other form of status which 
 does not involve individual service, becomes the basis for 
 determining who shall direct human affairs and be held in 
 corresponding honor. 
 
 Here we may recur to the conception, advanced in the early 
 part of the present section, that, since the opportunities of
 
 558 Principles of Education 
 
 to-day are largely dependent on social heredity, so the effi- 
 ciencies upon which the utilization of these opportunities de- 
 pend are in like degree furthered by education. Hence, if 
 we would create and equalize opportunities, we must create 
 and equalize educational advantages. Herein lies unquestion- 
 ably the fundamental function of education in a democracy. 
 The public school is not only necessary to insure a government 
 of the people, by fostering the control of those dangerous human 
 propensities to which popular government gives so free a rein, 
 and by the people, by routing the demagogue and the spoilsman, 
 but it is also an indispensable agency to bring about that just 
 distribution of the means of human welfare which constitutes 
 the meaning of government for the people. 
 
 Education as There is still a fourth function of education in a democracy 
 fos^eriiT of which deserves mention. It is the most valuable of agencies 
 the demo- for preserving the democratic temper. As democracy means 
 temper leadership through individual service, and not because of 
 wealth, hereditary rank, or accident of fortune, so it must con- 
 tinually war against the natural tendency for power and privi- 
 lege to drift to castes. To keep up this warfare the spirit of 
 hostility to special privileges must be kept alive. Democratic 
 government should not foster class hatred, because it should 
 foster no classes to hate and be hated. Like any form of 
 government, it needs leaders, but, if these are selected for ser- 
 vice rather than because of status, they do not constitute a 
 caste. A caste is composed of men who cannot because of 
 their own acts rise above or fall below their station in life. 
 Such leadership and such servility democracy rightly abhors, 
 and a hatred of them is not a hatred of classes, but a hostility 
 to the tendency to form them, which is as essential to the 
 preservation of democracy as is breath to life. This hostility 
 education breeds. It teaches men the nature and functions 
 of society, and, therefore, puts them in a position to criticize
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 559 
 
 abuses. It enables them to get a fairly correct estimate of the 
 capacities of those who lead, and a proper judgment of the work 
 in life that they themselves are best fitted to do. It creates 
 a self-respect that makes men as unwilling to be governed by 
 shams or by pretense as by the naked tyranny of force. Like 
 many other good things the discontent created by education 
 may be a great evil. When it is the discontent of envy, of 
 half-awakened ignorance, it is, indeed, to be feared by any 
 form of government. But the remedy for the evils of education 
 is more education, and an efficient system of schools ought to 
 insure a democracy against any serious discontent except that 
 which provokes the individual to do his best, and to resent any 
 tendencies which interfere with the freedom of opportunity 
 for each to perform for society the service for which he is best 
 fitted and to gain just recognition and reward. 
 
 To education we may, then, ascribe four main uses for demo- Summary 
 cratic government. It teaches people to govern themselves, 
 it tends to destroy corruption and inefficiency in public service, 
 it makes for equality of opportunity, and it creates the spirit 
 that is discontented with any condition where such justice 
 does not prevail. The two first functions are distinctly moral 
 in character, and they imply that democratic education should 
 not neglect, but rather emphasize, the moral element in the 
 curriculum. However, even intellectual education can scarcely 
 fail to cultivate a prudential morality that must make for just 
 and efficient government. The function of equalizing oppor- 
 tunities is the most important of the uses of education in a 
 democracy. Without such equality the "unearned incre- 
 ments," that prestige, property, and family solidarity inevitably 
 involve, will result in the differentiation of society into castes. 
 Education, by equalizing the opportunities for culture, af- 
 fects that capacity for service which is coming to be the most 
 important basis for differentiating men. It is at once the
 
 560 
 
 Principles of Education 
 
 simplest, the fairest, and the most effective instrument for pre- 
 serving that equality without which democracy is impossible. 
 
 Democratic 
 
 into a vo- 
 
 SECTION 61. The ideal of education in a democracy 
 
 If, then, education is not only indispensable to the preserva- 
 tion of democracy, but is also the principal agency of such a 
 government in rendering its characteristic service to its people, 
 what are the requisite elements in the training that it should 
 provide ? We may say at once, in view of our earlier discus- 
 sions, that no education provides equal opportunities that does 
 not train efficiently for whatever vocation the individual is by 
 nature fitted to enter, provided society has a use for such a 
 vocation. As the ideal of democracy implies that each one 
 should render a service to the community which entitles him 
 to a specific rating and reward, so the ideal education in such 
 a government is one that aims to open up all vocations to a 
 free competition where talent, industry, and character are the 
 determining selective forces. 
 
 We have sketched such a scheme of education in discussing 
 ^ ne f unc tio n of the school. According to the position there 
 taken, all children should pass through the stages, not only of 
 elementary, but also of secondary and higher education. In 
 the secondary school the pupil should "find himself"; that 
 is, discover his vocation. In the higher school he should pre- 
 pare for his calling. By a continuous process of differentiating 
 selection pupils should be drafted out of the ranks of the second- 
 ary school to enter vocational schools that prepare for occu- 
 pations which require little more than manual skill, to enter 
 schools preparing for intermediate positions in the various 
 walks of life, or to take that professional training which will 
 adapt its graduates to positions of leadership. 
 
 Education in a democracy should provide all these oppor-
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 
 
 tunities so freely that no child shall be shut out from his proper 
 calling because of poverty or the incompetence of his parents. 
 It should not only provide these opportunities, but also, as we 
 have seen, insist that, up to the age when a satisfactory test 
 of the child's aptitudes may be supposed to have been made, 
 they should have been utilized as effectively as compulsory 
 attendance can make possible. The higher professional train- 
 ing will depend upon the energy and the ability of the student, 
 but it should be as freely offered as a just apportionment of 
 available public funds permits. A system that charges high 
 tuitions for professional training, on the ground that the stu- 
 dent is here getting some pecuniary advantages for which he 
 should pay, inevitably tends to shut out certain individuals 
 from equality of educational opportunity. The child of pov- 
 erty may by extraordinary efforts put himself on a footing that 
 his more fortunate competitor enjoys as a gift, but the handi- 
 cap is neither democratic nor just. That hard labor and sacri- 
 fices bring their reward of character is true, but this should 
 not blind us to the fact that poverty and the lack of parental 
 insight or responsibility may often render, not only the best 
 education, but even any higher education impossible. 
 
 Assuming, then, that democratic education should provide, 
 so far as possible, equal opportunity for all in respect to voca- 
 tional training, what are its obligations in the matter of liberal 
 training ? According to the account that has been given of the 
 evolution of liberal education, we may proceed to analyze it 
 into three parts, each of which should, doubtless, be represented 
 in a truly democratic training. These are (i) education for 
 flexibility; (2) education for social cooperation; and (3) edu- 
 cation for leisure. 
 
 (i) By education for flexibility is meant such training as 
 makes for ready readjustment. It is the education of the rea- 
 son. Such culture is important in modern society, because of 
 
 Vocational 
 education 
 of all sorts 
 should be 
 within the 
 reach of all 
 
 Phases of 
 liberal cul- 
 ture neces- 
 sary to a 
 democratic 
 education
 
 562 Principles of Education 
 
 (i> Desira- the rapid changes in the modes of living and of gaining a liveli- 
 universai n d that spring from a conscious endeavor at betterment. 
 
 education It is especially important in a democracy, in order to insure as 
 bUity af large a distribution as possible, not only of the power to initiate 
 new conditions, but above all, of the ability to take advantage 
 of them or, at least, become adapted to them. The mass of 
 the mechanical workers are usually opposed to new methods, 
 both because these methods save labor, thus, for a time at 
 least, throwing some out of work, and because they involve 
 readjustments to new tasks and the acquisition of new types of 
 skill, processes that to the lower order of intellect and culture 
 are difficult, if not impossible. Such opposition could be re- 
 moved if education could give to the people who are likely to 
 display it flexibility. There is much evidence that men 
 accustomed to the constant improvement of methods grow 
 able, not only to survive them, but even to initiate and to profit 
 by them. If the thing be possible, democratic government 
 unquestionably owes it to the people to cultivate their power 
 of readjustment, and thus to lighten the evils of the progress 
 which it encourages. 
 
 Possibility of But it may be said that we have here an inherent defect of 
 p^weiMto 111 ^e inferior mind, which no education, however democratic, 
 readjust can h O p e to remedy, any more than we can by legislation make 
 equal men whom nature created different. While this proposi- 
 tion is largely true, nevertheless, education can probably do 
 much to increase adjustability, even among inferior minds. 
 It will be mere repetition to discuss here the essential elements 
 in the education of reason. Suffice it to note that the education 
 which will do most to cultivate flexibility is one that does not 
 content itself with facts and methods, but insists on reaching 
 principles, one that is continually compelling the utilization of 
 resources already learned by presenting problems involving 
 them, and one that invokes a variety of situations resembling
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 563 
 
 those of life, wherein the pupil is compelled to exercise his 
 powers of analysis and judgment. It is hard to take part in 
 the activities of a rational and progressive world without catch- 
 ing at least a modicum of its spirit and power. Such a world 
 the modern school is striving to become. 
 
 Flexibility is, of course, the most extraordinary attribute of Such 
 the leader. The endeavor to cultivate such a trait means, 
 therefore, training in leadership. In a democracy it is implied 
 that each possesses some of this power, some capacity to take 
 part in the political, social, and industrial life as an independent 
 and, indeed, a dominating agent. The school that studies its 
 pupils will especially cultivate leadership along those lines in 
 which the special aptitudes of each pupil lies. Thus flexibility 
 appears most clearly in the field of one's vocation, and depends 
 on the extent to which it is mastered. 
 
 On the other hand, the mastery of a vocation means the (&> to de- 
 mastery of the social and physical conditions which that voca- 
 
 J 
 
 tion serves. Thus training for leadership implies broad train- 
 ing. The leaders in any field are those who are most thoroughly 
 acquainted with the human needs to meet which this field 
 exists. Hence, as vocational training advances to greater pro- 
 fessional skill, it inevitably broadens into greater liberality. 
 If education, in its zeal to make the specialist, forgets the prob- 
 lem of the adaptation of his vocation to the needs of human life 
 generally, it is, indeed, neglecting flexibility, and, at the same 
 time, mastery. No man knows a vocation unless he knows its 
 value, and the knowledge of uses and values must be added to 
 that of causes and principles, if one is to be master of his busi- 
 ness rather than to have a business that is master of him. 
 
 (2) Thus flexibility may be said to be the aim of the highest 
 and most liberal aspect of vocational training. It is that which 
 liberalizes the vocation, making it masterful and free. It 
 leads directly into the social environment, in which the demand
 
 564 Principles of Education 
 
 for the vocation is found. It is, therefore, closely allied to the 
 second, the humanistic phase of liberal culture; that is, edu- 
 cation for social cooperation. Such culture includes moral, 
 political, and religious education, in addition to training in 
 manners and to familiarizing with the current interests of 
 society and the practices connected therewith. It is necessary 
 to the equipment of those who would get on in a world where 
 men work directly for society and only indirectly for themselves. 
 (2) Need in In a democracy education for social cooperation assumes for 
 a^democ- a jj ^ Q importance which in aristocratic government it has for 
 education the ruling class. There is a natural though unjustifiable 
 assumption that in a free government the public interest can 
 
 tion take care of itself. Since aristocracies govern so largely to 
 
 exploit, it has been hard to establish the ideal of public office 
 for service. To the masses the opportunity to take part in 
 political life has often appealed as only a chance to share in the 
 "graft" of leadership, to make money. If we are all to be 
 governed in the interest of exploitation, it is better to be under 
 an aristocracy, whose incomes and positions are so permanent 
 and sure that they can afford to attend to the interests of the 
 governed, rather than by a horde of adventurers to whom 
 the temporary enjoyment of office is regarded as a means of 
 getting rich quick. 
 
 Aims of edu- Education for social cooperation should aim at three things: 
 (a) to create an appreciation of the interdependence of the 
 
 operation individual and society, so that each shall find in the interests 
 and in the welfare of the whole the basis for his own interests 
 and welfare; (6) to create the ideal that "public office is a public 
 trust," that is, that, like any other vocation, it is an oppor- 
 tunity to serve society for a stipulated reward; (c) to create the 
 spirit of independence, of initiative, and of leadership in matters 
 that concern the public tastes and welfare. As contributory 
 to all this, there should be training in moral ideals, training
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 565 
 
 in tact, training in methods of social cooperation, study in the 
 humanities that broaden one's comprehension of human nature 
 and of human issues, and study of the sciences that reveal the 
 laws of individual and social action. Such a program is, of 
 course, a constantly expanding one, but it is certain that no 
 grade of intellect should fail to receive what it can of this sort 
 of education, and, hence, that in no stage of instruction should 
 it be without liberal representation. 
 
 Among the agencies for this sort of training, play and the Use of the 
 independent student activities are of fundamental importance. JJJ^JJ,, 
 The educational value of the game lies in that it leads into cation 
 social cooperation and the avocations. To the playful activi- 
 ties of the student, the humanistic studies should be made 
 subsidiary, having the function of contributing to these fairly 
 independent pursuits of the school the intellectual foundation 
 by which they gain meaning and permanence. 
 
 The higher schools of the democracy have been adapted from Lack of social 
 the schools of the aristocracy, and they have preserved the 
 antique program of studies, but have neglected the social life 
 that centered about this. Thus that which was rapidly becom- 
 ing the less valuable factor of the older schools was especially 
 cared for in the newer ones. On the other hand, democratic 
 education has of necessity stressed more and more the voca- 
 tional factor. Combining the two tendencies, our schools 
 have concerned themselves in giving the things that are neces- 
 sary in order to get a living, together with certain "hall-marks" 
 of learning, instead of becoming centers of free and active social 
 life. The time has come, not only for a renaissance of moral 
 and religious culture, but also for the active development of 
 the social life of the school. In this we may find a means of 
 cultivating both the aristocratic virtues, including the capacity 
 to lead, and those traits that serve as a foundation for the 
 liberal intercourse of a democracy.
 
 566 Principles of Education 
 
 (3) Demo- (3) Education in social cooperation reaches out into educa- 
 tion 6 ^ on ^ or leisure, education which, like play, is founded on a 
 involves } ove o f activity for its own sake. The classes upon whom 
 
 education . 
 
 for leisure democracy has thrust the burdens of government have been in 
 the past quite as free from leisure as from leadership. They 
 are being forced by the exigencies of the new political life to 
 learn what the public duties of a citizen of a republic are. 
 They will also be compelled by the growth of leisure to learn 
 how this may most worthily be employed. 
 Rise of uni- The development of the conception that to have no vocation 
 
 versa! lei- j g unwor thy is no more characteristic of a democracy than is 
 
 sure in 
 
 democratic the rise of the notion that all should have a certain amount of 
 leisure. The vacation is quite as typical of to-day as is the 
 "strenuous life." The eight-hour law and the Sabbatical year, 
 the summer outing and shorter business hours, are all, doubt- 
 less, symptomatic of a time when the program of life for the 
 general public will contain a very considerable amount of time 
 that can be devoted to avocations. The greater effectiveness 
 of modern means of production, a condition that, doubtless, 
 tends to produce the illusion of strenuousness, where in reality 
 little if any more energy or time is used than when life seemed 
 slower, constitutes the most important cause of the growth 
 of leisure in recent times. Moreover, a tendency to system- 
 atize life, which is associated with the growth of very compli- 
 cated business systems, results in specific and prearranged 
 periods of relief from work rather than irregular ones. 
 Tendency to The growth of leisure brings with it problems of considerable 
 importance and difficulty. In general, it may be said that both 
 irregular and newly gained leisure tend to be abused. Men 
 whose lives are absorbed in the vocation are prone to look upon 
 time spent away from it as properly to be given to amusement. 
 But mere amusement, even when it is genuinely recreative, 
 represents after all the least of the uses of leisure. For leisure
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 567 
 
 is the parent of the arts and the sciences, and these are the 
 parents of the higher civilization. What leisure has done for 
 the race, it may also do for the individual. When properly 
 employed, it is the most important source of personal growth. 
 When improperly employed, it is the creator of idleness and 
 vice, incompetence and degeneracy. Eight-hour laws may be, 
 as President Eliot suggests, a positive harm. If they merely 
 furnish a better chance to get drunk, they are a curse rather 
 than a blessing. 
 
 Now in order that leisure may be employed in ways that are Need of cui- 
 not only harmless but also contribute to human betterment, 
 the child needs a culture looking toward the development of sure 
 interests and capacities that will afford a fruitful as well as an 
 agreeable use of whatever free time the fortunes of life may 
 place at his disposal. It has already been noted that children 
 need to be taught to play. The free intercourse of men in 
 society, their athletic sports, their social entertainments, their 
 intellectual and artistic diversions, all need to be determined 
 by taste and a sense of relative value for the total aim of living. 
 In order that this may be the case, the child should be led to 
 expect from sport something more than amusement, and to feel 
 uncomfortable unless he gets it. The study of the humanities, 
 of the arts and the sciences should continually react upon the 
 judgment as to what pursuits are most desirable for leisure. In 
 order that this result may be brought about, the independent 
 activities of the school, from which the social occupations of 
 leisure take their origin, should constantly be affected by the 
 school studies, and should affect them in turn. 
 
 When we reflect upon the occupations of leisure in the United Tendency of 
 States, we are struck not only with their diversity and the aim- 
 
 lessness of many, but also with the fact that their general char- 
 
 acter tends toward the better. The growth of travel, the grad- improve b 
 
 ual disappearance of gambling and mere "sporting," and of the
 
 568 Principles of Education 
 
 more brutal athletic sports, the development of the distinction 
 between the amateur and the professional in sport, and the 
 constant reaction of the ideals of the former upon the practices 
 of the latter, the growth of interest and of taste in the drama 
 and in music, the rise of art, the establishment of museums 
 of all sorts, the spread of libraries and of reading, the growth 
 of club life that more and more represents culture and public 
 service as well as mere entertainment, the development of a 
 great system of parks, from those preserving the wild grandeur 
 of the mountain to such as are the breathing places of the city, 
 the creation of playgrounds, gymnasiums, and baths, the ap- 
 pearance of such societies as the Young Men's Christian Asso- 
 ciation, all these and many other changes mark the introduction 
 of an epoch when the art of spending one's time nobly will not 
 be confined to a privileged class. Many of the new attractions 
 are, in the fashion of the day, condemned as degeneracy, 
 whereas as a matter of fact they represent merely the forms 
 which the higher intellectual, social, and artistic life takes 
 The democ- when it spreads to the masses. The newspapers, with their 
 ratizmg of sensa tions and their somewhat cheap science and art, the popu- 
 
 culture and 
 
 the vulgar- lar novel, the commonplace drama, are the product of the de- 
 mocratization of culture, bringing with it, on the one hand, an 
 enormous demand for cultural products, and, on the other, 
 vulgarizing to some extent the standards of taste. 
 
 Democratic Nevertheless, we may hope that the democratization of 
 
 aT^basis cu l ture vulgarizes standards only to elevate them, and that the 
 
 for ad- overproduction of culture material will work, as overproduction 
 
 the higher usually does, to produce variety, to enable selection, and thus 
 
 culture t o promote progress. This modern movement may not only 
 
 extend the higher enjoyments of leisure to the masses, but in 
 
 the long run may bring forward new excellences. It is not at 
 
 all unlikely that the further growth of the arts of leisure depends 
 
 very considerably upon their ceasing to be the exclusive prop-
 
 Liberal and Vocational Education 569 
 
 erty of a privileged class. Certain it is that the ideals, the 
 interests, and the needs of life of the democracy have con- 
 tributed to the creators of science, art, ethical ideals, and the 
 form of social intercourse an extraordinary amount of inspira- 
 tion and of new material. 
 
 The work of selecting this material and of purifying and Need that 
 exalting popular taste must be done very largely by the school. 
 The popular education of the nineteenth century was respons- puriiy cul- 
 ible in great measure for the democratization of culture. The 
 popular education of the twentieth century should strive toward 
 its purification. After creation comes selection, after origin- 
 ality arises taste, and judgment should be the successor of 
 imagination. While the creative forces of democratic life, 
 far from having spent their force, have in reality only begun 
 to evince their possibilities, nevertheless, it is high time for the 
 selective agencies to be set in motion more vigorously. The 
 salvation of the creative work of the future lies in the guidance 
 of the critical work of to-day. 
 
 Thus education in a democracy means a vocational training summary 
 for each and liberal culture for all. So far as liberal culture is 
 concerned, it means, first of all, that training which will ensure 
 to each as much flexibility, or power of readjustment, as his 
 native endowment permits. Thus he is given his largest pos- 
 sible measure of mastery over his vocation, of leadership in it, 
 and of power to correlate it with the mass of activities of social 
 life. The highest training in the vocation leads inevitably 
 beyond the vocation. It leads first into those sciences whii h 
 give principles that underlie not only the one, but also very 
 many vocations. It leads further into social knowledge, 
 judgment, and skill, without which effectiveness in the vocation 
 as well as general participation in the common institutional 
 activities of society is impossible. Lastly, it leads into those 
 phases of culture that have been and still are pursued primarily
 
 570 Principles of Education 
 
 for their own sake, because not only the general organization 
 and the ideals of society, but also the character of the vocations 
 of men, are continually modified and recreated by this culture. 
 Liberal education cannot, therefore, be separated from the 
 vocation. It finds what is, perhaps, its most important func- 
 tion in liberalizing the calling, exalting it, making it masterful 
 and noble. It can stamp out the disease of mere commercial- 
 ism, and substitute the health of public service that is worthy 
 of its reward. On the other hand, it needs the vocation to 
 save it from vagaries, eccentricities, and trivialities, to preserve 
 for it a sense of relative values, and to bring it into that integral 
 relation with life through which alone the products of men can 
 survive. For life has many aims, and in the long run each 
 exacts its appropriate service.
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 (The references given in the footnotes will suggest a large amount of 
 collateral reading. The following bibliography repeats many of these. 
 There are, however, some additions, and in general the list is intended 
 to include such references as might constitute a working basis for a study 
 of the various topics considered in the text. The aim has been to give at 
 most only a few references on each large topic considered.) 
 
 SECTION i. For a statement of various historic aims of education, 
 Monroe, Text Book in the History of Education. For modern idealistic 
 statements of the aim of education, Rosenkranz, Philosophy of Education, 
 Part I ; Harris, Psychologic Foundations of Education, Ch. XXXVI. 
 
 SECTION 2. For modern statements of the aim of efficiency, Spencer, 
 Education; Butler, The Meaning of Education; Dewey, Ethical Prin- 
 ciples Underlying Education; O'Shea, Education as Adjustment, Part II ; 
 Bagley, The Educative Process, Ch. Ill ; Eliot, Education for Efficiency; 
 Rudiger, The Principles of Education, Chs. III-V. Efficiency is given a 
 somewhat idealistic statement by Home, Philosophy of Education, Ch. 
 VII. 
 
 SECTION 3. For a discussion of the mechanism of life, Loeb, Dynamics 
 of Living Matter; Morgan, Evolution and Adaptation, Ch. IX ; Verworn, 
 General Physiology. Vitalism is dealt with in the latter reference, pp. 
 41-46. Teleology as contrasted with mechanism in living beings is well 
 treated by Ward, Naturalism and Agnosticism, Part II, especially Lectures 
 IX and X; Fullerton, Metaphysics, Chs. XV and XVI ; Harris, Psy- 
 chologic Foundations of Education, Chs. XX and XXI ; Pearson, Grammar 
 of Science, Ch. IX. 
 
 SECTION 4. For a discussion of geologic changes that have affected life 
 consult the historical part of any standard geology, as those of LeConte 
 or Dana. Chamberlain and Salisbury, Geology, Ch. XI, show how 
 geologic conditions of life are affected by the products of living beings 
 themselves. For reactions to representative stimuli, Jennings, Behavior 
 of the Lower Organisms, pp. 296-298. For higher environments, Kirk- 
 patrick, Genetic Psychology, pp. 354-367 ', Swift, Mind in the Making, 
 Ch. X ; Calderwood, Evolution and Man's Place in Nature; Lankester,
 
 57 2 Principles of Education 
 
 The Kingdom of Man. For the variability of man's environment, Fiske, 
 Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy, Vol. II, Chs. XX and XXI ; Spencer, 
 Principles of Biology, Part I, Chs. IV-VI. 
 
 SECTION 5. For growth as producing lack of adjustment, Minot, Age, 
 Growth, and Death; Spencer, Principles of Biology, Part II, Chs. I-V ; 
 Bagley, The Educative Process, Ch. XXIII. For the effects of habit, 
 James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. IV ; Halleck, Education of the Central 
 Nervous System, Chs. II and VI. For economic and social illustrations of 
 growth toward maladjustment, Mai thus, Law of Population; Giddings, 
 Democracy and Empire, Ch. V, The Costs of Progress. 
 
 SECTION 6. For the function of reproduction and life cycles Geddes 
 and Thompson, The Evolution of Sex; Jordan and Kellogg, Evolution and 
 Animal Life, Chs. XII and XVI. For various kinds of adaptations, 
 Morgan, Evolution and Adaptation, Chs. I and X-XII. 
 
 SECTION 7. For the utility of a period of infancy, Fiske, The Meaning 
 of Infancy; Butler, The Meaning of Education; Chamberlain, The Child, 
 A Study in the Evolution of Man, Ch. I ; Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of 
 Child Study, Ch. I. For imperfect and deferred instincts, James, Prin- 
 ciples of Psychology, Ch. XXIV ; Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child 
 Study, Ch. III. For the nervous mechanism of higher vertebrates and of 
 infants, Donaldson, The Growth of the Brain; Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psy- 
 chology, Chs. II and VI; Loeb, Comparative Physiology of the Brain and 
 Comparative Psychology; Swift, Mind in the Making, Ch. VII. 
 
 SECTION 8. For the utility of not inheriting acquired characters, James, 
 Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXVIII ; Ball, Are the Effects of Use In- 
 herited ? For a resume of the evidence as to such inheritance, Wallace, 
 Darwinism, Ch. XIV; Thompson, Heredity, Ch. VII. For various 
 theories concerning the origin and character of variation, Kellogg, Dar- 
 winism To-day, Chs. VIII-XI. For the theory of organic selection, 
 Baldwin, Development and Evolution. 
 
 SECTION 9. For the part of heredity in furnishing the basis for educa- 
 tion, Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, Chs. XVI and XVII ; 
 Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psychology, Ch. V ; Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, 
 Chs. IV and V. The extent of hereditary influence is well brought out by 
 Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Chs. V and VI ; Thorndike, Measure- 
 ments of Twins, Ch. I, and Conclusion. Other well-known studies of hered- 
 ity are Galton, Hereditary Genius; Woods, Mental and Moral Heredity in 
 Royalty; Dugdale, The Jukes. 
 
 SECTION 10. For the conception of social heredity, Baldwin, Mental
 
 Bibliography 573 
 
 Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, Ch. II ; Patten, The 
 New Basis of Civilization, Ch. II. For the rise of social heredity, Gid- 
 dings, Principles of Sociology, Book III, Ch. II ; Sumner, Folkways, 
 Ch. I. Sumner gives an elaborate survey of basic social customs. 
 
 SECTION n. On the inheritance of the undesirable, Swift, Mind 
 the Making, Ch. II ; Hall, Adolescence, Ch. V. On the varieties of in-^ 
 stinctive expression, James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. XXIV. On the 
 theory of the emotions, ibid., Ch. XXV. On the utility of emotional 
 expressions, Dewey, Ethical Principles Underlying Education. On the 
 control of bad tendencies, Keith, Elementary Education, Ch. VII ; 
 Thorndike, Psychology, Ch. XII ; Hall, Youth, Chs. VII and XII ; 
 Bain, Education as a Science, pp. 66-67, 7 2 ~?6, 100-118. On education 
 in inhibition, O'Shea, Dynamic Factors in Education, Chs. I-V. 
 
 SECTION 12. For the psychical conditions that give rise to society, 
 McDougall, Social Psychology; Ribot, Psychology of the Emotions, Part II, 
 Ch. VIII. On the evolution of parental care, Fiske, From Nature to God; 
 Sutherland, Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct, Vol. I ; Letourneau, 
 VEvolution de ^Education; Kropotkin, Mutual Aid. On imitation in 
 animals, Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, pp. 149 and 191 et seq.; Kirk- 
 patrick, Genetic Psychology, pp. 101, 123-126; Washburn, The Animal 
 Mind, p. 237 et seq.; Morgan, Animal Behavior, Ch. V. On imitation 
 among men, Tarde, Social Laws; Ross, Social Psychology; Baldwin, 
 Mental Development, Methods and Processes, Ch. XII and Social and 
 Ethical Interpretations, Part I ; Giddings, Principles of Sociology, pp. 
 100-116, and Part II, Ch. II. 
 
 SECTION 13. For the reaction of self -consciousness on education, 
 Vincent, The Social Mind and Education, Ch. IV. For early conscious 
 efforts at education, Letourneau, I' Evolution de V Education; Chamberlain, 
 The Child in Folk Thought, Ch. XIII ; Webster, Primitive Secret Societies, 
 Ch. IV ; Hall, Adolescence, Ch. XIII. For the effect of religion on social 
 stability, Kidd, Social Evolution, Ch. V ; LeBon, Psychology of Peoples, 
 Book IV, Ch. II. For the education of early civilizations and the rise 
 of the school, Laurie, Historical Survey of Pre-Christian Education; 
 Davidson, History of Education, Ch. IV. 
 
 SECTION 14. For the value of education as a means of social control, 
 Ross, Social Control, Ch. XIV; Webster, Primitive Secret Societies, 
 Ch. VII. For the importance of exploitation as a stage in progress. 
 Gumplowicz, Outlines of Sociology, especially Part III; Giddings, De- 
 scriptive and Historical Sociology, pp. 414-432; Sumner, Folkways, Ch. VI ;
 
 574 Principles of Education 
 
 Mallock, Aristocracy and Evolution, Book II, Ch. II. For the effect of 
 social conditions on natural selection, Jordan, The Blood of the Nation; 
 Huxley, Evolution and Ethics ; Fiske, The Destiny of Man, Chs. XII- 
 
 XIV ; Lankester, The Kingdom of Man; Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, 
 Ch. XVI. 
 
 f .- SECTION 15. On the general relation of psychology to education and 
 ' on the method of individual development, Munsterberg, Psychology and 
 the Teacher, Chs. XI-XIV ; Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child Study, 
 Ch. I ; James, Talks to Teachers on Psychology. 
 
 SECTION 16. On the dependence of intelligence on heredity compare 
 references on Section 9, and Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, Chs. IV and 
 
 XV ; Morgan, Animal Behavior, Ch. XV. On the principle of recapitu- 
 / lation, Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psychology, Ch. XI ; Baldwin, Mental Devel- 
 opment, Methods and Processes, Ch. I ; Fouillee, Education from a National 
 Standpoint, Book III, Ch. I. 
 
 SECTION 17. On selection in racial and individual development, Kirk- 
 patrick, Genetic Psychology, pp. 348-354. On kinds of selection, Baldwin, 
 Mental Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, p. 548. On selec- 
 tion in individual development, Judd, Genetic Psychology for Teachers, 
 Ch. IV ; Washburn, Animal Mind, Sections 85-86. On selection in con- 
 scious learning, Thorndike, Psychology, Chs. XVII and XX. 
 
 SECTION 18. On the function of consciousness, Angell, Psychology, 
 Ch. Ill ; Royce, Outlines of Psychology, Ch. II ; King, Psychology of 
 Child Development, Chs. III-V ; Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, Chs. 
 XIV-XVII; Miller, Psychology of Thinking, Ch. IV; Kirkpatrick, 
 Genetic Psychology, Ch. VII ; Washburn, The Animal Mind, Ch. XII. 
 
 SECTION 19. On the process of forming habits, Swift, Mind in the 
 Making, Ch. VI ; James, Talks to Teachers, Ch. VIII. On consciousness 
 and habit forming, Bagley, The Educative Process, Ch. VII ; Thorndike, 
 Principles of Teaching, Ch. XIV ; Rowe, Habit Formation, Ch. VII. On 
 consciousness and the reorganization of habits, ibid., Ch. XI ; Judd, 
 Genetic Psychology for Teachers, Ch. II. On habits as a basis for readjust- 
 ment, Rowe, Habit Formation, Ch. XII ; Bagley, The Educative Process, 
 Chs. X and XIII ; Royce, Outlines of Psychology, Ch. X ; also references 
 to Sections 33 and 34. 
 
 SECTION 20. On early ideas of recapitulation in education, Lessing, 
 The Education of the Human Race; Froebel, The Education of Man, Ch. I. 
 On the biological law of recapitulation, with exceptions thereto, Marshall, 
 Biological Essays and Addresses; Baldwin, Mental Development, Methods
 
 Bibliography 575 
 
 and Processes, pp. 20-35. Jordan and Kellogg, Evolution and Animal 
 Life, Ch. XIV. 
 
 SECTION 21. On recapitulation according to the faculties with educa- 
 tional applications, Rosenkranz, Philosophy of Education, Part II, Chs. IV 
 to VII. On the time of appearance of various instincts, Kirkpatrick, 
 Fundamentals of Child Study, Chs. VI-XIII. On the educational im- 
 portance of knowing this time, James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. 
 XXIV. On the value of complete recapitulation, Hall, Adolescence, 
 Preface. On epochs in childhood as recapitulatory, Bagley, The Educative 
 Process, Ch. XII ; Chamberlain, The Child, A Study in the Evolution of 
 Man, Chs. Ill and IV. 
 
 SECTION 22. On the culture epoch theory and concentration, De- 
 Garmo, Herbart and the Herbartians, Part II, Chs. Ill and IV ; Van Liew, 
 First Herbart Year Book, The Culture Epoch Theory ; Vincent, The Social 
 Mind and Education, Chs. III-V. For criticism of the application of the 
 idea to education, Lange, Apperception, Part II. On special applications 
 of the idea of concentration involving in a measure the culture epoch 
 idea, Parker, The Theory of Concentration ; Dewey, The School and Society ; 
 McMuny, General Method, Ch. IV. 
 
 SECTION 23. On the meaning of learning as contrasted with accustom- 
 ing or organic adaptation, Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, Ch. V. On 
 accustoming as selective learning, Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organ- 
 isms, pp. 345-349; Morgan, Evolution and Adaptation, pp. 12-15, 377- 
 379. On kinds of learning, Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psychology, Ch. X. 
 
 SECTION 24. On the relation between affection and sensation, Titch- 
 ener, A Text Book of Psychology, pp. 223-264. On the evolution of 
 feeling, Stanley, The Evolutionary Psychology of Feeling. On the trans- 
 ference of feeling from one to a related stimulus, Ziehen, Introduction 
 to the Study of Physiological Psychology, Ch. IX ; Ribot, The Psychology 
 of the Emotions, Ch. XII ; Jennings, Behavior of the Lower Organisms, 
 pp. 289-292. On the conditions of feeling, Angell, Psychology, Ch. XIV ; 
 Judd, Psychology, pp. 192-212 ; Marshall, Pleasure, Pain, and ^Esthetics, 
 Chs. IV and V. On the function of feeling hi education, Munsterberg, 
 Psychology and the Teacher, Ch. XXI. 
 
 SECTION 25. For an analysis of perception which indicates the com- 
 plexity and variability of the factors that determine it, Judd, Psychology, 
 Ch. VI ; Stratton, Experimental Psychology and Culture, Chs. V-VIII ; 
 Witmer, Analytical Psychology, Chs. I-IV ; Binet, Psychology of Reasoning. 
 
 SECTION 26. On the factors in conscious learning, James, Principles of
 
 576 Principles of Education 
 
 Psychology, Ch. XXII ; Galton, Inquiries into Human Faculty, pp. 83- 
 114; Miller, Psychology of Thinking, Chs. VTII-XII ; Dewey, Studies 
 in Logical Theory, Chs. I-IV ; Baldwin, Development and Evolution, 
 Ch. XVII ; Pillsbury, Psychology of Reasoning; Titchener, Experimental 
 Psychology of the Thought Processes. 
 
 SECTION 27. On the development and use of the image and the concept, 
 Ribot, Essay on the Creative Imagination; Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psychology, 
 Chs. IX and X ; Miller, Psychology of Thinking, Chs. XIV and XV ; 
 Bagley, The Educative Process, Chs. VIII-X. On the construction of 
 memories, Stratton, Experimental Psychology and Culture, Chs. IX and X ; 
 Miinsterberg, On the Witness Stand, The Memory of the Witness. On 
 logical memorizing, James, Principles of Psychology, Ch. XVI ; McMurry, 
 How to Study, Ch. VII. On the laws of association, James, Principles 
 of Psychology, Ch. XIV; Thorndike, Psychology, Chs. XIII-XVI. 
 
 SECTION 28. On the nature and development of judgment, Miller, 
 Psychology of Thinking, Chs. XXI and XXII ; Judd, Psychology, Ch. XI ; 
 Dewey, Studies in Logical Theory, Ch. VIII; Baldwin, Thought and Things, 
 especially Vol. II, Chs. I and II ; Hobhouse, The Theory of Knowledge, 
 Ch. XI. 
 
 SECTION 29. On the general problem and method of cultivating the 
 reason, Thorndike, The Principles of Teaching, Ch. X ; Miller, Psychol- 
 ogy of Thinking, Chs. X, XIII, XVII, XIX-XXII ; Home, Psychological 
 Principles of Education, Part II ; James, Talks to Teachers, Chs. IX to 
 XIV ; DeGarmo, Principles of Secondary Education, Processes of In- 
 struction. 
 
 SECTION 30. On the methods of storing the mind with effective ideas, 
 McMurry, The Method of the Recitation; DeGarmo, Essentials of Method; 
 Bagley, The Educative Process, Part VI ; Lange, Apperception; Findlay, 
 Principles of Class Teaching, Section IV ; Spencer, Education, Ch. II ; 
 Tompkins, Philosophy of Teaching; Herbart, Science of Education, Book 
 II ; Hamilton, The Recitation; Fitch, Lectures on Teaching, Ch. V. 
 
 SECTION 31. On training the rational attitudes, Judd, Genetic Psy- 
 chology for Teachers, Chs. IV and V ; McMurry, How to Study; Earhart, 
 Teaching Children to Study. On the adjustment of the program to pro- 
 mote study, Bagley, School Management, Ch. XIV ; Jones, Teaching 
 Children to Study; Button and Snedden, Administration of Public Educa- 
 tion in the United States, Ch. XIX. On the problem and interest in con- 
 nection with individual effort, Dewey, Interest as Related to the Training 
 of the Will.
 
 Bibliography 577 
 
 SECTION 32. On Herbart's rejection of the faculty theory and of dis- 
 cipline of the faculties, Herbart, Text Book in Psychology, Part II, Chs. I 
 and VI. On the attitude of the Herbartians on the question, Hinsdale, 
 The Dogma of Formal Discipline, Ed. Rev., Sept., 1894. For a review 
 of earlier American opinions on the topic, Youmans, Culture Demanded 
 by Modern Life. For a collection of latter-day opinions of educators, 
 Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Ch. VIII ; Riidiger, Principles of 
 Education, Ch. VI. 
 
 SECTION 33. For reviews of experimental work on formal discipline, 
 Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Ch. VIII ; articles by Angell, Judd, 
 and Pillsbury, Ed. Rev., June, 1908; by Delabarre, Henderson, and Home, 
 Education, May, 1909 ; Bennett, Formal Discipline ; Riidiger, Principles 
 of Education, Ch. VI ; Heck, Mental Discipline and Educational Values. 
 
 SECTION 34. For the educational bearings of the present idea on formal 
 discipline, in addition to references above, O'Shea, Education as Adjust- 
 ment, Chs. XIII and XIV ; Bagley, The Educative Process, Ch. XIII ; 
 Meiklejohn, Is Mental Training a Myth? Ed. Rev., Vol. XXXVH. 
 
 SECTION 35. On the general function and importance of imitation, 
 Tarde, The Laws of Imitation, Chs. I and II ; Baldwin, Mental Develop- 
 ment, Methods and Processes, Ch. XVI ; Stratton, Experimental Psy- 
 chology and Culture, Ch. XI ; Cooley, Human Nature and the Social 
 Order, Ch. II. 
 
 SECTION 36. On the psycho-physiological mechanism of imitation, 
 Baldwin, Mental Development, Methods and Processes, Chs. VI and IX ; 
 Sidis, The Psychology of Suggestion, Chs. I-V ; Munsterberg, Psychology 
 and the Teacher, Ch. XIX. 
 
 SECTION 37. On the mass action, feeling, and thought of social groups 
 because of imitation, LeBon, The Crowd; Ross, Social Psychology, Chs. 
 I-V. On the effect of imitation on the development of mental power, 
 Baldwin, Mental Development, Methods and Processes, Chs. X-XV ; 
 Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child Study, Ch. VIII. On the reaction of 
 imitation upon the consciousness of self and of others and upon character, 
 Baldwin, Mental Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations; Royce, 
 Outlines of Psychology, Ch. XII ; Mezes, Ethics, Descriptive and Explan- 
 atory, Ch. VII. 
 
 SECTION 38. On the general mechanism of imitation in society, Tarde, 
 The Laws of Imitation; Ross, Social Psychology; Giddings, Principles 
 of Sociology, Book IV, Ch. III. For the reaction of the individual on 
 social practice and the various sanctions that control imitation, Baldwin, 
 
 2P
 
 578 Principles of Education 
 
 Mental Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, Book I, Parts II, 
 III, and IV. Baldwin discusses the social mechanism of imitation in 
 Book II of the same reference. 
 
 SECTION 39. For the general characteristics of early education, Laurie, 
 Historical Survey of Pre-Christian Education; Monroe, Text Book in the 
 History of Education, Chs. I and II ; Graves, History of Education, Part I. 
 For the evolution of rational education, Monroe, Text Book in the History 
 of Education, pp. 52-62, 102-120, 351-357, 538-553. On rational educa- 
 tion as comparison of traditions, customs, etc., Sumner, Folkways, Ch. 
 XIX ; Ross, Foundations of Sociology, Ch. VIII. 
 
 SECTION 40. For the reaction of language upon thought, Noire, On 
 the Origin of Language; Miiller, The Science of Thought; Romanes, 
 Mental Evolution in Man, Chs. I-V ; Baldwin, Mental Development, 
 Social and Ethical Interpretations, pp. 128-139; Morgan, Psychology for 
 Teachers, Ch. VIII ; Judd, Psychology, Ch. X. For the growth of lan- 
 guage in the race, Tylor, Anthropology, Chs. IV-VI ; Starr, First Steps in 
 Human Progress, Chs. XVII-XXII ; Tylor, Early History of Mankind, 
 Chs. II-VI. For the development of language in the child, Preyer, The 
 Development of the Intellect; Tracy, Psychology of Childhood, Ch. V ; 
 Sully, Studies of Childhood, Ch. V ; Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child 
 Study, Ch. XIII. 
 
 SECTION 41. For the rise and effects of written language, Tylor, 
 Anthropology, Ch. VI ; Cooley, Social Organization, Part II ; Ward, 
 Dynamic Sociology, Vol. II, pp. 180-189 ; Barnes, Studies in Education, 
 First Series, pp. 28-37, The Historic Sense Among Primitive People. 
 
 SECTION 42. On the study of language as a basis for education, Laurie, 
 Lectures On Language, Lecture I ; Hinsdale, Teaching the Language Arts, 
 Ch. Ill ; Fitch, Lectures On Teaching, Ch. VIII. On verbalism and its 
 dangers, Quick, Educational Reformers, Chs. I-III ; Huxley, Science and 
 Education, VI, Science and Culture; Hall, Aspects of Child Life in Educa- 
 tion, The Contents of Children's' Minds on Entering School. 
 
 SECTION 43. On the explanation and function of play, Spencer, Psy- 
 chology, Vol. I, Section 50, and Vol. II, Ch. IX ; Groos, The Play of Ani- 
 mals, Chs. I, II, and V, and The Play of Man, Part III ; Baldwin, Mental 
 Development, Social and Ethical Interpretations, pp. 139-147 ; Hall, 
 Youth, Ch. VI ; Richter, Levana, 43-60 ; Froebel, The Education of 
 Man, 30 and 49 ; Carr, The Survival Values of Play, Univ. of Col. 
 Publications. 
 
 SECTION 44. On the development of the child's interest in games,
 
 Bibliography 579 
 
 Kirkpatrick; Fundamentals of Child Study, Ch. IX ; Croswell, Amuse- 
 ments of Worcester School Children, Pcd. Sent., Sept., 1899 ; McGhec, 
 A Study of the Play Life of Some South Carolina Children, Fed. Sem., 
 Dec., 1900 ; Groos, The Play of Man, Parts I and II. 
 
 SECTION 45. For play among animals, Groos, Play of Animals, Chs. 
 Ill and IV. For pkiy among primitive men, Chamberlain, The Child, 
 Ch. II ; Haddon, A Study of Man, Chs. VIII-XV. For play among the 
 Greeks, Holm, History of Greece, Vol. I, Ch. XIX ; Davidson, Education 
 of the Greek People, Ch. III. 
 
 SECTION 46. On the use of play in the school to-day, Addams, Newer 
 Ideals of Peace, pp. 174-179; Scott, Social Education, Chs. IV-VII ; 
 Johnson, Education by Plays and Games; Report of the Committee of the 
 Play Ground Association of America On a Normal Course in Play. On 
 the motivation of school work, DeGarmo, Interest and Education; Arnold, 
 School and Class Management, pp. 55-58, 98, and Chs. IX and XI ; Bain, 
 Education as a Science, pp. 60-118. 
 
 SECTION 47. On the educational function of the various institutions, 
 Horne, Philosophy of Education, Chs. I and IV ; Bagley, Educative Process, 
 Ch. II; Rosenkranz, Philosophy of Education, 131-136 and 260; 
 Riidiger, Principles of Education, Ch. XIV. On the relation of these 
 institutions in the education of the child, Dutton, Social Phases of Edu- 
 cation; Button and Snedden, The Administration of Public Education in 
 the United States, Ch. XXXII ; Hanus, A Modern School, Ch. V, The 
 School and the Home. On the relation of religious agencies to the school, 
 various articles in Education and National Character, published under the 
 direction of the Religious Education Association. 
 
 SECTION 48. For classifications of the curriculum, Horne, Philosophy 
 of Education, Chs. IV and V ; Rudiger, Principles of Education, Ch. X ; 
 Vincent, Social Mind and Education, Ch. V ; Harris, Psychologic Founda- 
 tions of Education; DeGarmo, Principles of Secondary Education, The 
 Studies; Reports of the Committees of Ten and Fifteen of the N. E. A. on 
 Elementary and Secondary Curricula; Hanus, Educational Aims and Edu- 
 cational Values, Ch. III. 
 
 SECTION 49. On the differentiation of the school in general, Monroe, 
 Text Book in the History of Education. On the accumulation of culture 
 and the rise of the school, Letourneau, /' Evolution del' Education; Laurie, 
 Historical Survey of Pre-Christian Education. On the rise of esoteric cults, 
 Webster, Primitive Secret Societies, Chs. IX and X. On the evolution of 
 independent culture among the Greeks, Davidson, Aristotk and the An-
 
 580 Principles of Education 
 
 dent Educational Ideals, Book II, Part II, and Book IV ; Walden, The 
 Universities of Ancient Greece. On the development of secular culture 
 and national control in the universities, Rashdall, Universities of Europe 
 in the Middle Ages; Laurie, Rise and Constitution of Universities, Lecture 
 X. On similar progress in all schools, Paulsen, German Education, Book 
 IV, Ch. Ill ; Anderson, History of Common School Education, Chs. IX, 
 XXVII, and XXVIII; Brown, The Making of Our Middle Schools, 
 Chs. X, XIII, and XVI. On the secularization of the schools, Payne, 
 Contributions to the Science of Education, Ch. XII. 
 
 SECTION 50. On the rise of tolerance, Lecky, Rationalism in Europe, 
 Ch. IV. On the development of free thought and speech, Draper, Intel- 
 lectual Development of Europe, Vol. II, Chs. V-XI ; White, History of 
 the Warfare of Science with Theology. On academic freedom in the univer- 
 sities, Brown, Academic Freedom, Ed. Rev., March, 1900 ; Draper, Amer- 
 ican Education, Limits of Academic Freedom; Jenks, Citizenship and the 
 Schools, Ch. VI. On the evils of state control of schools, Spencer, Social 
 Statics, National Education. On the necessity of such a control, Ward, 
 Dynamic Sociology, Ch. XIV ; Draper, American Education, The Function 
 of the State, and The Legal Basis of the School; Dutton and Snedden, The 
 Administration of Pub. Ed. in the U.S., Chs. III-IV. On the need of 
 independence in the schools, Chancellor, Motives, Values, and Ideals in 
 Education, Ch. VII. 
 
 SECTION 51. On the school as isolated from the service of society, 
 Swift, Mind in the Making, Ch. IX ; Dewey, The School and Society, 
 Ch. Ill ; Spencer, Education, Ch. I. On the division of authority be- 
 tween educators and lay boards, Dutton and Snedden, The Administra- 
 tion of Pub. Ed. in the U.S., Ch. VII, also Chs. IX and X ; Chancellor, 
 Our Schools, Their Administration and Supervision, Ch. II ; Draper, 
 American Education, Unsettled Questions, and The Teacher and the Position. 
 On compulsory education, Draper, American Education, Illiteracy and 
 Compulsory Attendance; Dutton and Snedden, The Administration of 
 Pub. Ed. in the U.S., Ch. XXVII. On the function of the school in reli- 
 gion and morals, Education and National Character, published under the 
 direction of the National Religious Association; Sadler, Moral Instruction 
 and Training in the Schools; Palmer, Ethical and Moral Instruction in the 
 Schools; Home, The Psychological Principles of Education, Parts IV and V. 
 
 SECTION 52. On social selection by the school, Thorndike, Educational 
 Psychology, Ch. IX; Rudiger, Principles of Education, pp. 25-28. On 
 infanticide and its reasons, Sutherland, Origin and Growth of the Moral
 
 Bibliography 58 1 
 
 Instinct, Ch. VI ; Westermarck, The Evolution of Morality, Ch. XVII. 
 On adolescent examinations, Webster, Primitive Secret Societies, Chs. 
 II, III, and VI. On the need of differentiating selection to-day, Flexner, 
 The American College, Chs. Ill and IV ; Hanus, A Modern School, Ch. I. 
 
 SECTION 53. On the education of the pre-adolescent and the adoles- 
 cent, Hall, Youth, Ch. I et seq.; Bagley, The Educative Process, Ch. XII ; 
 Boone, Science of Education, pp. 278-282, and Ch. XXVI. On the read- 
 justment of the relation between secondary and elementary education, 
 Draper, American Education, Education for Efficiency; Dewey, The Edu- 
 cational Situation; Button and Snedden, The Administration of Pub. Ed. 
 in the U.S., Ch. XX ; Hanus, A Modern School, Chs. Ill and IV. On the 
 function of secondary education, E. E. Brown, The Making of Our Middle 
 Schools, Chs. XVII, XVIII, and XX ; J. F. Brown, The American High 
 School, Chs. I-II ; Hanus, Educational Aims and Educational Values, 
 Chs. II, IV, and V; Butler, The Meaning of Education, The Function of 
 Secondary Education; Riidiger, The Principles of Education, Ch. XIII. 
 
 SECTION 54. On the school as determining social progress, Fouillee, 
 Education from a National Standpoint, Book I ; Davidson, History of 
 Education, Ch. I ; Ward, Pure Sociology, Ch. XX. On experiment in 
 Education, Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Ch. XV ; Swift, Mind 
 in the Making, Ch. VIII. 
 
 SECTION 55. On the rise of academic religion and morality, Hobhouse, 
 Morals in Evolution, Vol. II. On academic morality, Dewey and Tufts, 
 Ethics, Chs. VII, IX, XIII, and XIX ; Hicks, Stoics and Epicureans. 
 On the rise of academic philosophy, any account of Greek philosophy, as 
 Windelband, History of Ancient Philosophy, or Weber, History of Phi- 
 losophy. On the development of academic science independently of art, 
 Whewell, History of the Inductive Sciences, Book IV, Ch. V. On the rise of 
 the idea of art for its own sake, Knight, Philosophy of the Beautiful, Chs. I, 
 II, and IV. On present-day academic philosophy, James, Pragmatism. 
 
 SECTION 56. On the development of science and its application to 
 practice, Ward, Dynamic Sociology, Ch. XIII. For a sketch of modern 
 transformations of industry, Wright, The Industrial Evolution of the 
 United States. On the elective system, Eliot, University Administration, 
 Ch. IV: Flexner, The American College, Ch. IV; Dutton and Snedden, 
 The Administration, of Pub. Ed. in the U.S., pp. 365-369 ; Hanus, A 
 Modern School, Chs. HI and IX. 
 
 SECTION 57. On self-realization as the aim of conduct, Seth. Principles 
 of Ethics, Part II, Ch. Ill ; Mezes, Ethics, Descriptive and Explanatory,
 
 582 Principles of Education 
 
 Ch. XV ; Dewey and Tufts, Ethics, Ch. XVIII ; Small, Sociology, Chs. 
 XXXI and XXXII. 
 
 SECTION 58. On the history of the conception of liberal education, 
 Monroe, Text Book in the History of Education, pp. 52-61, 267-274, 364- 
 370, 451-455, 679-684 ; Davidson, Aristotle and the Ancient Educational 
 Ideals, Part I, Ch. I and Appendix ; Veblen, Theory of the Leisure Class, 
 Ch. XIV. On the liberal education of to-day, see references under i 
 and 2, and Huxley, Science and Culture, A Liberal Education and Where to 
 Find It; Eliot, Educational Reform, What is a Liberal Education? 
 Hadley, Education of the American Citizen, Fundamental Requirements in 
 School Education. 
 
 SECTION 59. On the history of vocational training, Monroe, Text Book 
 in the History of Education, pp. 4-13, 315, 739-744 ; Dexter, History of 
 Education in the United States, Chs. XVI-XX ; Dutton and Snedden, 
 The Administration of Pub. Ed. in the U.S., Chs. XXI and XXII. On 
 the rise of industrial education, MacArthur, Education in Its Relation to 
 Manual Industry; Carlton, Education and Industrial Evolution; Hanus, 
 Beginnings in Industrial Education; Ware, Educational Foundations of 
 Trade and Industry. On the degradation of service, Veblen, Theory of 
 the Leisure Class, Ch. I. On the exaltation of the ideal of service, Dewey 
 and Tufts, Ethics, pp. 156-157, 514-517. On the growth of the idea of 
 natural law, Draper, Intellectual Development of Europe, Ch. I. 
 
 SECTION 60. On the idea of democracy, Cooley, Social Organization, 
 Parts III and IV ; Giddings, Elements of Sociology, Ch. XXIV ; Wilson, 
 The State, Ch. XIII. On the function of education in a democracy, 
 Horace Mann, The Necessity of Education in a Republican Government; 
 Butler, The Meaning of Education, Democracy and Education; Hadley, 
 The Education of the American Citizen; Jenks, Citizenship and the Schools, 
 Chs. I-V ; Ward, Dynamic Sociology, Chs. XIII and XIV ; Monroe, 
 Text Book in the History of Education, Ch. XIII. On the undesirability 
 of democratic education, Mallock, Aristocracy and Evolution, Book IV, 
 Ch. III. 
 
 SECTION 61. On the sort of education necessary in a democracy, Eliot, 
 Educational Reform, The Function of Education in Democratic Society; 
 Giddings, Democracy and Empire, Chs. XIII and XIV ; Cubberley, 
 Changing Conceptions of Education; Dewey, The Educational Situation; 
 Patten, The New Basis of Civilization, Ch. VI ; Dewey and Tufts, Ethics, 
 pp. 548-556 ; Addams, Democracy and Social Ethics, Ch. VI ; Henderson, 
 The Social Spirit in America, Chs. XII-XIV.
 
 INDEX 
 
 Ability, foundation of, 130-143; general 
 and special, 286-287 ; determination of 
 relative, 481-485. 
 
 Abstract habits, formation and use of, 
 157-160, 216-221. 
 
 Abstraction, value of, 261. 
 
 Academic subjects as distinguished from 
 practical ones, 434; culture as discipli- 
 nary, 439 ; culture, definition of, 502 ; 
 culture, rise of, 502-513 ; culture, re- 
 action against, 513-523; culture as 
 related to utility, 523-533; culture as 
 liberal education, 537 ; issues, 453-454, 
 465; motive, 415-416, 535-536; fre- 
 dom, rise of, 451-467; freedom, aspects 
 of, 452; freedom, reasons for, 462, 475- 
 476 ; freedom, implications of, 465-467 ; 
 freedom, dangers of, 468-469 ; freedom, 
 limitation of, 469-476; freedom as 
 necessary to freedom of pupils, 498-499. 
 
 Academies as giving higher education, 494 ; 
 accustoming as compared with learning, 
 191-194. 
 
 Acquired characters, inheritance of, 73-78; 
 96-97, 180; and language, 375. 
 
 Action system, 86-90, 140-143, 215-216. 
 
 Adolescent exercises, character and func- 
 tion of, 116-122, 127-131, 401, 440-441 ; 
 as disciplinary education, 438-439. 
 
 Adornment in primitive art, 510. 
 
 JEneas Sylvius on the aim of education, 5 
 
 ^Esthetic culture of the Renaissance, 4-7, 
 22; games, 389, 391-392 ; instincts back 
 of academic ideal, 503, 510-511. 
 
 Affective consciousness, function of, 146- 
 147, 191, 193, 197 ; types of, 192-196. 
 
 Agassiz and the idea of recapitulation, 163. 
 
 Age of rivalry in children, 394, 413, 486- 
 487; of independence in children, 395, 
 413-414, 487-488. 
 
 Agencies, educational, analysis of, 429-439. 
 
 Aggregate idea in reasoning, 249-251. 
 
 Aim of life as feeling, 147 ; determination 
 of, 522-532; constituents of, 528. 
 
 Aims of education, 1-24, 184-187, 523-533 ; 
 
 of conscious education, 124. 
 Alternation of generations, function of, 
 
 56-58. 
 
 Amoeba, 42, 46, 51, 85. 
 Amusements as occupation for leisure, 560. 
 Analysis, conditions of, 217-218. 
 Angell on the function of consciousness, 
 
 148, 298; on the conditions of feeling, 
 
 197. 
 
 Anger, control of, 90-100, 104-105. 
 Apperception, 172-173, 184-185, 188, 264- 
 
 265, 291-292. 
 
 Appointment of teachers, 466, 460-472. 
 Apprenticeship, 405, 431, 447, 489; decline 
 x of, 542. 
 A priori ideas as elements in experience, 
 
 290-291. 
 
 Aristocracy and cosmopolitanism, 354. 
 Aristocratic culture of Renaissance, 4-7; 
 
 and play, 300-401 ; as discipline, 437- 
 
 439- 
 Aristotle on aim of education, 7; on the 
 
 catharsis, 175; and ability to observe, 
 
 204. 
 Arrested development and recapitulation, 
 
 176, 178-180. 
 Art and play, 308; of primitive men, 510; 
 
 transformed from utilitarian to academic, 
 
 510-513- 
 
 Articulate speech, development of, 360- 
 362. 
 
 Artificial environment, 30-40. 87. 
 
 Asceticism as educational aim, 2-3; as 
 negation of instincts, 102 ; and education 
 by play, 401-402 ; as academic attitude, 
 510. 
 
 Assignments for study, 270-280. 
 
 Association and imitation, 323-327. 
 
 Associationists, 200-201. 
 
 Associations, inborn versus acquired, 64- 
 70; formation of, 144-145. 152-153; 
 value of accidental, 261-268; as logical 
 relations, 260. 
 
 Athenian education and play, 390; roan- 
 hood examination, 481. 
 
 583
 
 Index 
 
 Attention, control of, 209, 239, 254, 271, 
 298, 313; in imitation, 328-329, 333, 
 343-345- 
 
 Attilius, 5. 
 
 Attitude of work, 400-410. 
 
 Attitudes, meaning and kinds of, 211-214, 
 239-241, 249, 256; in relation to the 
 content of mind, 256-257 ; culture of, 
 270-282, 284; and imitation, 332; and 
 articulate speech, 362-363. 
 
 Aurelius, Marcus, and academic indepen- 
 dence, 444. 
 .Authority, meaning and rise of, 339~345- 
 
 Avocations in relation to play, 386; im- 
 portance of, 565; nature of, 565-569. 
 
 B 
 
 Bacon on the application of science, 8, 19- 
 20, 514; on idols, 374; against final 
 causation, 647. 
 
 Bagley on effects of training, 304-305, 
 310-312. 
 
 Bair on effects of training, 301. 
 
 Baldwin on organic selection, 80-81 ; on 
 social heredity, in; on dynamogene- 
 sis, 149-150; on short cuts, 168; on 
 thought experimentation, 222; on imi- 
 tation, 318, 325, 335. 
 
 Ball on inheritance of acquired characters, 
 76-77. 
 
 Barnard on mental discipline, 293. 
 
 Basedow and education by play, 403. 
 
 Bergstrom on effects of training, 300, 306. 
 
 Boethius and academic independence, 444. 
 
 Brahmins as learned caste, 441. 
 
 Butler, N. M., on aim of education, 18; 
 on meaning of infancy, 61 ; on indepen- 
 dence of the endowed university, 464; 
 on education in a democracy, 552. 
 
 Caesar and all-round ability, 295. 
 Capacities, source and kinds of, 29-31 ; 33- 
 
 34, 36, 40-41, 63, 67, 85-86, 91, 139-143. 
 Card games in education, 403. 
 Caribs and grading by ordeals, 481. 
 Castes and education, 118, 120, 129-131, 
 
 370-371 ; definition of, 558. 
 Catharsis as educational method, 175-178. 
 Cerebral hemispheres, function of, 69-70, 
 
 147-148. 
 
 Ceremonial, religious, utility of, 119, 511. 
 
 Chaldees, 441. 
 
 Character as aim of education, 14; as 
 
 helped by language, 374. 
 Checks to destructive effects of reason, 
 
 i2i, 123,^351-352. 
 China and infanticide, 480. 
 Chinese education, 130, 373, 481 ; wall, 354. 
 Christianity and social environments, 45, 
 
 99 ; and education by play, 401 ; and 
 
 academic independence, 444-445. 
 Church and education, 430-431 ; in control 
 
 of the school, 442, 444-445, 448-450; 
 
 rise of the national, 449. 
 Cicero, 4; and struggle against conserva- 
 tive culture, 453. 
 Circular activity, in, 318, 325. 
 Class and individual teaching, 280-281. 
 Classical study as ideal education, 4-1 2 ; 
 
 and formal discipline, 288-289; as test 
 
 of mental power, 482. 
 Cognitive consciousness, function of, 147, 
 
 IS4-IS7, 198- 
 
 College as secondary school, 490-491, 496. 
 Comenius on the aim of education, 8-9; 
 
 on concrete illustration, 264. 
 Commerce and spread of customs, 355-356. 
 Community consciousness and imitation, 
 
 332. 
 
 Competition, kinds of, 36-37. 
 Composition and training the reason, 276- 
 
 277. 
 Compulsory education, 466; reasons for, 
 
 473-474- 
 
 Concentration of studies, 184-189. 
 
 Concepts as psychological and logical, 226- 
 230; use of in readjustment, 209, 225- 
 232, 259-261, 267 ; importance of deriv- 
 ing from the concrete, 261-264; an d 
 language, 359. 
 
 Conceptualism, 358-359. 
 
 Concertations, 403. 
 
 Concrete illustrations and use of language, 
 377-378. 
 
 Confucianism, 131. 
 
 Consciousness, function of, 140-151, 153- 
 158. 
 
 Conservatism of early society and educa- 
 tion, 96-98; of school men, 497, 516; 
 of language, 372-373- 
 
 Conservative effects of habit, 63, 153. 
 
 Constructive sport, 390-391 ; work, 278. 
 
 Content theory of mind, 212-213, 290-292.
 
 Index 
 
 585 
 
 Continuous ladder in American education 
 
 484. 
 Control of undesirable tendencies, 102-108 ; 
 
 by school of curriculum and methods of 
 
 teaching, 463-466, 469; by school of 
 
 appointment of teachers, 466, 460-472; 
 
 by school of disposition of school money, 
 
 466, 475 ; by lay boards of school officers, 
 
 460-476. 
 Cooperation as a function, 37-39, 88, 100, 
 
 118, 124; in games, 393, 395, 419. 
 Coordination, in nervous system, 91-95 ; 
 
 of studies, 186. 
 
 Coover on effects of special training, 296. 
 Correlation of school and life, 265-266; 
 
 of work and play in the school, 427. 
 Crime and education, 552-554. 
 Critical attitude, 212, 257, 266-269, 275- 
 Culture, ideals of, 2-16; relation of to 
 
 efficiency, 16-24. 
 
 Culture epoch theory, 183-189; 292. 
 Curiosity, function of, 254; in games, 300; 
 
 as school motive, 413; as the basis of 
 
 the academic ideal, 503. 
 Curriculum, rise of, 429-430; problems of, 
 
 434-439- 
 
 Custom in imitation, 344. 
 Customary, as principle'of selection, 340. 
 Cynicism in ethics, 508. 
 
 D 
 
 Dante on the aim of education, 7. 
 
 Dark Ages and academic issues, 453. 
 
 Darwin and all-round ability, 294. 
 
 Deferred instincts, 64-66, 103 ; instinctive 
 acts, 64-66. 
 
 Denning characters, 260. 
 
 De Garmo on coordination of studies, 186. 
 
 Democracy and academic freedom, 454 ; 
 meaning of, 550; function of education 
 in, 550-559 ; ideal of education in, 560- 
 570; produced by man, 554-555- 
 
 Democratic education, 538-539 ; and play, 
 404-405, 419-421. 
 
 Democratizing of culture, 447, 568-569. 
 
 Des Cartes and esoteric opinion, 456. 
 
 Destructive sport, 310. 
 
 Development, conditions of individual, 
 139-162; and imitation, 357 ; as method 
 of teaching, 274; deficiencies of the 
 method of, 278. 
 
 Dewey on the aim of education, 21, 23; 
 
 on the function of emotion, 100-103, 105, 
 
 107 ; on social life in the school, 186-187, 
 
 on interest and the use of problems, 265, 
 
 272. 
 Differentiating selection by the school, 
 
 483-485- 
 Diffusion of nervous impulses, 68-71, 90- 
 
 91,144- 152-153- 
 Disciplinary as contrasted with content 
 
 subjects, 434. 
 Discipline in aristocratic education, 437- 
 
 439; question of formal, 283-317. 
 Discrimination, effect of training on, 297- 
 
 298; and imitation, 331. 
 Dispersal, means of, 51-52. 
 Dissociation of movements, 92-93. 
 Docility as a selected trait, 352-353. 
 Donaldson on central nervous system in 
 
 man, 67, 69. 
 
 Dramatic imitation, 330 ; games, 390, 392. 
 Drill in adolescent training, 118, 441; at 
 
 age of rivalry, 487. 
 
 Earhart on how to study, 279. 
 
 Ebert on training of memory, 302-303. 
 
 Efficiency as aim of education, i, 1624; 
 518-519; 523-524- 
 
 Effort as induced by imitation, 336; as 
 related to play and work, 272, 408-411. 
 
 Election, function of, 492. 
 
 Elective system and formal discipline, 293 ; 
 defects of, 485; reasons for, 517-522. 
 
 Elementary education in Europe and the 
 United States, 484. 
 
 Eliminative selection in the school, 482- 
 485,489- 
 
 Eliot on disciplinary values, 293. 
 
 Emotions, training of, 100-108; and ado- 
 lescent culture, 125; as a result of imi- 
 tation, 332. 
 
 Emperor of Germany on formal discipline, 
 289. 
 
 Empirical test of truth, 206, 214, 244, 340. 
 
 Enlightenment and its educational aims, 
 12-15. 
 
 Epicurean ethics, 509. 
 
 Epictetus and academic independence, 444. 
 
 Epochs in childhood, 304-395. 
 
 Equality of opportunity and state educa- 
 tion, 448, 463, 556-558. 
 
 Erasmus on the aim of education, 6-7.
 
 586 
 
 Index 
 
 Esoteric beliefs, 122; learning, rise of, 441, 
 
 455-456; learning, value of, 456-458; 
 
 learning, disappearance of, 458. 
 Estimates, effect of training on, 297-298. 
 Ethics transformed from utilitarian to 
 
 academic, 507-509; and utility, 525- 
 
 526. 
 
 Euglena, 196. 
 Examination conception of education, 478- 
 
 485 ; as determining social heredity, 496. 
 Executive heads, appointment of, 470-472. 
 Experience and ideas, 211. 
 Experimental subjects in secondary schools, 
 
 491-492. 
 Experimentation and learning, 144-148; 
 
 as the basis of educational progress, 499. 
 Expert control and academic freedom, 461- 
 
 463- 
 Exploitation in primitive education, 126- 
 
 131, 540; and control of sanctions, 348- 
 
 349; decline of, 546; in democracies, 
 
 547- 
 
 Expressive cries, 360. 
 Ezra and effects of written codes, 373. 
 
 Faculties in struggle with chancellors, 449. 
 Faculty theory, 10-12, 15, 169-172; and 
 
 formal discipline, 284-286; Herbart on, 
 
 291. 
 
 Family and education, 116, 122, 430-431. 
 Fear, control of, 90-100, 174; and critical 
 
 attitude, 211. 
 Feeling as factor in learning, 86, 89, 94; 
 
 physiological basis of, 91 ; function of, 
 
 146-148, 154-155, 191-193 ; types of, 
 
 194-198; logic of, 205-208; as guide to 
 
 action, 242-243. 
 Felkin, 183. 
 Fichte, 15. 
 
 Fighting instinct, 172, 178. 
 Final cause and evolution, 27-28, 526. 
 Financial support of schools, adequacy of, 
 
 468. 
 
 Fiske on meaning of infancy, 61-62. 
 Flexibility, education for, 98, 136, 141-143, 
 
 158-160, 251-282, 561-563; evolution 
 
 of, 32-47, 59-61, 70-71, 85-96, 114-115, 
 
 139-163, 190-250. 
 Form, fondness for, 289, 352. 
 Formal discipline, 283-317; meaning of, 
 
 283; historic reasons for, 288; Herbart 
 
 on, 291 ; experimental study of, 293-304 ; 
 common observation on, 294-295; as 
 general and specific discipline, 305-307, 
 310315; general conclusion on, 307- 
 309; application of conclusions to edu- 
 cation, 309-316. 
 
 Formal steps, 264-265. 
 
 Fracker on training memory, 302. 
 
 Freedom of investigation, 451-452; of 
 teaching, 455-458 ; of school in determin- 
 ing education, 458-467. 
 
 Froebel on aim of education, 13-14, 20; 
 on recapitulation, 164-165; on use of 
 play, 404-406. 
 
 Function, meaning of, 89-90. 
 
 Functions, evolution of, 41-47 ; of society, 
 108; that deal with the variable, 40. 
 
 Galton on curve of distribution, 79; on 
 
 regression to type, 114. 
 Games of childhood, 388-396; individual, 
 
 389-390; social, 391-393; in history of 
 
 education, 396-405. 
 
 Geddes on function of reproduction, 48-49. 
 General discipline, 305, 314-315. 
 Geography and concentration, 186. 
 Giddings on consciousness of kind, 124. 
 Greece, academic independence of, 444. 
 Greek education, 130; use of play, 400. 
 Groos on organic selection, 80-8 1 ; on 
 
 theory of play, 384, 416. 
 Growth, conditions of, 29 ; inertia of, 31, 
 
 41-42, 47, 49, 52, 83, 153, 353-3545 
 
 continuous and discontinuous, 48-50, 
 
 72-73- 
 
 Guarino on liberal education, 4-5. 
 Gumplowicz on origin of castes, 118. 
 Gymnasiums in modern education, 421. 
 
 H 
 
 Habit, formation of, 43-44, 00-95 ; effects 
 of, 43, 56 ; as inhibiting instinctive acts, 
 101-108; and imitation, 113, 323, 342- 
 343> 357 ; in relation to readjustment, 
 144, 152-162, 211, 214-218, 227-229, 268- 
 269 ; and perception, 205 ; logic of, 206 ; 
 as related to attitudes, 271. 
 
 Habituation, perversion by, 177; arrested 
 development by, 179. 
 
 Hall on complete recapitulation, 174-182, 
 259-
 
 Index 
 
 58? 
 
 Hamlet and inhibition, 213. 
 
 Hebrew tradition and language, 373. 
 
 Hegel on aim of education, 15. 
 
 Henmon on reaction time and sensitivity, 
 45- 
 
 Herbart on aim of education, 14-15; on 
 control of emotion, 106-107 I on recapit- 
 ulation, 165, 183; on struggle of ideas, 
 200; on mind as experience, 212; on 
 formal discipline, 289-292 ; on forming 
 character, 374 ; on disadvantage of state 
 education, 498. 
 
 Herbartians on method of teaching, 264- 
 265. 
 
 Herder on recapitulation, 183. 
 
 Heterogenesis, 82-83. 
 
 Higher education, function of, 491 
 
 High school, function of, 480-400. 
 
 Hobhouse on learning by imitation, 112, 
 328, 330; on the basis of learning, 139- 
 140, 159 ; on accustoming, 192. 
 
 Hugo of St. Victor on aim of education, 
 2-3, 7- 
 
 Humanism, 4-7, 9 ; and spiritualism, 435- 
 430. 
 
 Humanities and culture epoch theory, 184- 
 189; in struggle with science, 434-436; 
 in relation to social control, 436-437 ; 
 rise of the study of, 446. 
 
 Huxley on discipline through science, 292. 
 
 Ideal education, 135; and the differentia- 
 tion of the school, 433. 
 
 Ideals of education, 1-24; to be deter- 
 mined by the school, 520-522. 
 
 Ideas, rise of independent, 204 ; evolution 
 of, 215-235 ; of Plato, 507-508. 
 
 Ideational readjustment, 147, 198-199; 
 forms of, 235-236 ; and transfer of prac- 
 tice, 308-309; and imitation, 330; and 
 language, 363-366. 
 
 Identical elements, 298, 303-304 ; as form 
 or content, 303-304. 
 
 Illuminati and esoteric learning, 537. 
 
 Imagery as aid to memory, 302303. 
 
 Imagination and readjustment, 209; rise 
 of, 221-225; variation in, 223-225; 
 culture of, 258 ; and imitation, 333 ; and 
 language, 363 ; in the game, 300, 392. 
 
 Imitation and social heredity, 111-115, 
 124-125, 159; in general, 318-358; as 
 
 selective, 319-321, 3*4: M adding to 
 resources, 321-322; definition of, 323; 
 instinctive, 323-324, 327, 332; learning 
 by, 324-327; voluntary and involun- 
 tary, 328-329 ; among animals, 112, 328- 
 329; and ideational readjustment, 330, 
 334-335; psychical effects of, 331-341; 
 and consciousness of self and others, 335- 
 341 ; and social norms, 330-341 ; spread 
 and conflict of, 342-351 ; of the foreign, 
 351-357 ; in the modern school, 357-358. 
 
 Imitative association, 324-325, 357-358. 
 
 Imperfect instinctive acts and instincts, 
 66-71, 80-82. 
 
 Indian education, 131. 
 
 Inductive method, 264. 
 
 Industry, general school of, 489. 
 
 Inertia of growth, 31, 83, 153, 353-354. 
 
 Infancy, function of, 59, 61-71, 179-181; 
 and social heredity, 96-97 ; in relation to 
 recapitulation, 166-167 ; and play, 383. 
 
 Infanticide as race policy, 480481. 
 
 Infusoria, 85. 
 
 Inhibition of hereditary impulses, 102-103, 
 105-106; function of, 151-152. 
 
 Initiatory rites, 118-119. 
 
 Instinctive acts, 93-04, oo, 108; dis- 
 tinguished from instincts, 65. 
 
 Instincts, 15, 1 8, 86, 88-89, 94, 99, 100-108, 
 140; social, no; teaching, in, 114; 
 and intelligence, 141-143, 150-151 ; 
 in recapitulation, 172-182; transitory, 
 173; as controlling imitation, 343; in- 
 volved in language, 363; of play, 383- 
 385, 389, 391; and academic interest, 
 415-416. 
 
 Institutions, definition of, 429; as educa- 
 tional, 429-433. 
 
 Instruction in traditions, etc., 121-124. 
 
 Intension, 250-260. 
 
 Intensive study, 315. 
 
 Interest as aim of education, 14-15; * 
 involved in learning, 554-555. 265, 271 ; 
 immediate and mediate, 272-273; in 
 persons, 335 ; shown in games, 380-394 ; 
 and use of play in education, 402-403. 
 
 Interference of habits, 297, 209, 306-308. 
 
 Irradiation of feeling, 195-197. 
 
 James on psychologist's fallacy, 28; on 
 number of instincts, 67 ; on inhibition of
 
 5 88 
 
 Index 
 
 instincts by habits, 70, 104; on inheri- 
 tance of acquired characters, 75 ; on 
 emotion, 100, 125, 332 ; on relation of con- 
 sciousness and movement, 149; on cul- 
 ture of instincts, 173 ; on reserve energy, 
 214; on association, 227-228, 262; on 
 training the memory, 301-302; on the 
 social me, 337. 
 
 Japanese and imitation, 353. 
 
 Jefferson on education in a democracy, 551. 
 
 Jelly fish and alternation of generations, 57. 
 
 Jennings on selective power in paramoe- 
 cium, 28; on learning among low or- 
 ganisms, 85 ; on the action system, 86, 
 141 ; on the behavior of the stentor, 87 ; 
 on reflex action, 93, 159; on accustom- 
 ing, 192 ; on physiological resolution, 
 105-196. 
 
 Jesuits and education by play, 403. 
 
 Job and academic religion, 505, 509. 
 
 Jordan on selective effects of war, 132. 
 
 Judd on conditions of feeling, 197 ; on in- 
 terference of habits, 299-300; on effect 
 of language on discrimination, 364. 
 
 Judgment, function of, 148, 199-200, 205 
 208, 210, 224-225; factors in, 212-213, 
 235; evolution of, 235-250; and imita- 
 tion, 345, 357 ; and games of rivalry, 
 393-395 ; and freedom of teaching, 458. 
 
 Kant as introducing content theory of 
 mind, 289-291. 
 
 Katabolic crisis and reproduction, 49-51. 
 
 Katabolism as condition of feeling, 194- 
 197. 
 
 Kellogg on causes of variation, 79. 
 
 Kidd on social value of religion, 119. 
 
 Kindergarten and play, 403404, 412. 
 
 Kirkpatrick on walking as a perfect instinc- 
 tive act, 66 ; on dramatic imitation, 330. 
 
 Knightly education and play, 400-402 ; 
 and discipline, 439. 
 
 Laboratory work, 277-278. 
 
 Ladislas, education of, 5. 
 
 Laissez faire as method of education, 13 ; 
 and the elective system, 520 ; and educa- 
 tion in a democracy, 450-464, 550-552, 
 555- 
 
 Lamb on tyranny of custom, 169. 
 
 Lange on emotions, 100, 125, 332. 
 
 Lange, Karl, on culture epoch theory, 187 
 1 88. 
 
 Language in general, 358-382 ; the school 
 and written, 122; and memory, 231; 
 imitation and written, 322; develop- 
 ment of thought and oral, 358-368; as 
 selective, 367 ; social memory and 
 written, 368-375 ; conservative effects 
 of, 368-369, 372-373 ; progressive effect 
 of, 373-374; democratic effect of, 371- 
 372 ; education in, 375-381. 
 
 Latin and formal discipline, 283, 288- 
 289. 
 
 Laurie on liberal education, 535. 
 
 Law of dynamogenesis, 149. 
 
 Lay boards in control of education, 460- 
 476. 
 
 Lazarus on play, 384. 
 
 Leadership, instinct of, 124, 126, 180. 
 
 Learned ideal in education, 7-9, 15, 401. 
 
 Learned class as priesthood, 122, 441 ; and 
 social control, 442-445 ; and power of 
 memory, 369-372; and accumulation of 
 learning, 515-516. 
 
 Learning, conditions of, 61-70, 85-96, 145- 
 149; meaning of, 100-194; by trial and 
 error, 190-208, 209; by ideas, 199; con- 
 scioui, 208-250 ; factors in conscious, 
 208-215; by imitation, 319-320, 324- 
 327- 
 
 Le Conte on function of reproduction, 48. 
 
 Lecture, method of, 274. 
 
 Leisure as a basis of progress, 127; play 
 and education for, 400-411, 424-425; 
 occupations of, 567-568 : use and abuse 
 of, 566-568 ; rise of, 566 ; education for, 
 536-537, 566-569. 
 
 Lessing on recapitulation, 164, 183. 
 
 Letourneau on primitive adolescent culture, 
 in, 117, 481. 
 
 Levites as learned caste, 441. 
 
 Liberal education as contrasted with vo- 
 cational, 434-435, 437 ; as disciplinary, 
 437-439; in the United States, 484; 
 meaning of, 535-536; evolution of, 
 536-540. 
 
 Life cycles, 56-59. 
 
 Life, conformity of school to, 265-266. 
 
 Lincoln on democracy, 530. 
 
 Literacy as demanded by Protestantism, 
 446-447.
 
 Index 
 
 589 
 
 Liver fluke and alternation of generations, ' 
 
 57-58. 
 Localization as ideational readjustment, 
 
 202-204. 
 Locke on aim of education, 10-1 1 ; on 
 
 mental discipline, 289. 
 Logic of habit and feeling, 205-206, 239; 
 
 of cognition, 206, 243-249. 
 Logical test of truth, 245-248. 
 Lycurgus as imitator of the foreign, 357. 
 
 M 
 
 Macaulay and power of memory, 295. 
 
 Make-believe and play, 384, 387, 392. 
 
 Malthus and law of population, 42. 
 
 Mann, Horace, and popular civic education, 
 447. S5 I ~55 2 ; an d ideal of public schools, 
 464. 
 
 Manual training as discipline, 283. 
 
 Marshall on recapitulation, 166-167. 
 
 Materials of education, 434-439; accu- 
 mulation of mental, 258-270. 
 
 Mathematics and recapitulation, 185. 
 
 Mathematical problems, 276. 
 
 Mating instincts, 64, 103. 
 
 M'Lennan on exogamy, 480. 
 
 McMurry on type subjects, 259, 266; on 
 deriving concepts from the concrete, 261 ; 
 on the art of study, 270-280, 381. 
 
 Medical education, rise of, 446, 548. 
 
 Medicine as art of controlling wills, 543. 
 
 Memorizing, training in, 301-305. 
 
 Memory, discipline of, n ; function of, 147, 
 156-157; physical basis of, 147-148; 
 development of, 204; as the basis of 
 selection, 219; as based on concepts, 
 230-232 ; as evaluated by judgment, 
 258, 338; and imitation, 323, 338, 343; 
 and language, 364-366, 368-375 ; of the 
 will and language, 374. 
 
 Mental discipline as aim of education, 9-1 2, 
 15-16, 20, 22. (See formal discipline and 
 discipline.) 
 
 Metamorphosis, 56, 58. 
 
 Method in relating concepts to the concrete, 
 264-266; in teaching standards, 266- 
 269; in cultivating attitudes, 271-282. 
 
 Meumann on training memory, 302. 
 Milton on aim of education, 7-8. 
 Minot on inertia of growth, 43. 
 Monotheism, causes of, 504. 
 Monroe, on disciplinary aim, 9-10, 289. 
 
 Moral culture through play, 418-419; 
 function of the school in regard to, 476- 
 477 ; need of, 553-554. 564-565- 
 
 Morgan on organic selection, So. 
 
 Motivation of school work, 402-404, 407- 
 417. 
 
 Motor adjustments and the attitudes, 271. 
 
 Movement, function of, 34 ; conditions of, 
 34-35; development of complexity of, 
 93-94; and consciousness, 149-150. 
 
 Miiller on recapitulation, 163, 165. 
 
 Miiller, Max, on thought and language, 359. 
 
 Miinsterberg on training in habits, 300- 
 301, 307- 
 
 N 
 
 Nationalization of education, causes of, 
 
 448-449 ; reasons for, 550. 
 Natural consequences, punishment by, 404. 
 Natural law, rise of the idea of, 346, 348, 
 
 544, 547-548. 
 
 Natural selection. (See selection.) 
 Nature, education according to, 13. 
 Neatness, training in, 304-306, 310312. 
 Negative education, 13-14, 274. 
 Newton and the law of inertia, 31. 
 Nominalism, 358, 365. 
 
 Oratory as independent culture, 443-444. 
 Ordeals in primitive education, 117-118; 
 
 and disciplinary education, 438; and 
 
 selection of leaders, 481. 
 Originality as a rational attitude, 211, 256; 
 
 cultivation of, 270-274; and imitation. 
 
 353; and play, 410-420. 
 Orthogenesis, 82, 141 ; in culture of the 
 
 reason, 253-254. 
 Osborn on organic selection, 80. 
 Ostwald on accustoming, 192. 
 
 Pansophy, 8-9, 22. 
 
 Parasitism, 36. 
 
 Parental fosterage, 109-111. 
 
 Parental training, 111-114, 114-126. 
 
 Parental instinct, 176. 
 
 Partial recall, 228-229, 261-263. 
 
 Paul on literalism, 373. 
 
 Paulsen on disciplinary education, 10. 
 
 Pax Romana, 355.
 
 590 
 
 Index 
 
 Perception as ideational readjustment, 
 200-208 ; Kantian theory of, 300. 
 
 Perceptual readjustment, 198-208, 209, 
 219-220, 238-239. 
 
 Persian education, 131 ; and play, 400. 
 
 Persistent imitation, 326-327, 328. 
 
 Perversion of instincts, 176-178. 
 
 Pestalozzi on aim of education, 13-14, 20. 
 
 Phenomena distinguished from noumena, 
 507-508. 
 
 Philosophy as independent culture, ^443- 
 444 ; of Renaissance, 440 ; rise of acade- 
 mic, 505-508. 
 
 Plato on aim of education, 3, 7 ; as separat- 
 ing child from family, 463, 555 ; on 
 differentiating selection, 481-482 ; on 
 the academic ideal, 502, 507 ; on the 
 control of the Good, 545. 
 
 Platonism and Christianity, 444. 
 
 Play, 383-426; and problems, 272-273; 
 definition of, 383, 386, 408-409 ; child 
 and adult, 383-388; theories of, 383- 
 385 ; and work, 386-388, 395-396, 405- 
 407, 408-410, 418-420; of animals, 396- 
 397 ; of primitive men, 397 ; and religion, 
 397-398; control of, 399, 404; as dis- 
 appearing from learned education, 400- 
 402 ; as returning thereto, 402-403 ; as 
 a school motive, 407-417; organization 
 and control of, 418-426; and art, 511; 
 in democratic education, 565; need of 
 education in, 567. 
 
 Playgrounds, 421. 
 
 Poetry as a device for memorizing, 369. 
 
 Practical ideal as academic, 502, 529. 
 
 Practical men and their attitude toward the 
 academic, 513-514. 
 
 Precocity, danger of, 175, 178-180. 
 
 Prescription, function of, 491. 
 
 Prestige and imitation, 344. 
 
 Primitive men and play, 397. 
 
 Printing, democratic effect of, 372. 
 
 Private education and conservatism, 460- 
 461. 
 
 Privileged classes as just in government, 
 544. (See castes.) 
 
 Problems and the cultivation of rational 
 attitudes, 272-282. 
 
 Process as related to product in education, 
 255- 
 
 Professional man, meaning of, 538-539, 
 541-542. 
 
 Professional education, rise of, 541. 
 
 Protective adaptations, 33, 51, 63. 
 
 Protestantism and literacy, 446. 
 
 Psychical environment, 36-39; and imi- 
 tation, 339; and language, 363. 
 
 Psychological relations, 260, 262-263. 
 
 Psychologist's fallacy, 28. 
 
 Public school, English, and disciplinary 
 education, 438; and play, 400. 
 
 Purpose, imitation and the consciousness 
 of, 336-337- 
 
 Pythagoras and foreign culture, 357. 
 
 Race adaptation, 72-73. 
 
 Rational education, rise of, 134-135 ; pos- 
 sibility of, 251 ; and the differentiation 
 of the school, 433. 
 
 Rationality and imitation, 351, 357-358; 
 and language, 359-368. 
 
 Rational test of truth, 340. 
 
 Ratzel on ability of various races, 134. 
 
 Ratzenhofer on rise of classes, 118. 
 
 Realism in education, 9, 20 ; and humanism, 
 436. 
 
 Reason, function of, 40 ; rise of, 206 ; de- 
 scription of, 209, 249-250; education of, 
 251-282; training of and formal dis- 
 cipline, 283-284, 308-309; in control of 
 sanctions, 348-350. 
 
 Recapitulation, definition of, 143 ; in gen- 
 eral, 163-189; psycho-physiological, 
 163-168, 169-182; cultural, 163, 169, 
 183-189; necessity of, 165-166; ex- 
 ceptions to, 166-169, 184-185; accord- 
 ing to faculties, 170-173; according to 
 instincts, 173-183; desirability of com- 
 plete, 174-182. 
 
 Recapitulatory education, 96-98; as con- 
 trasted with rational education, 251. 
 
 Recognition as ideational readjustment, 
 201-202. 
 
 Recreation theory of play, 384-385. 
 
 Reflex acts, evolution of, 93-94. 
 
 Reformation and the aim of education, 7. 
 
 Rein on formal steps, 264. 
 
 Rejuvenation, 43, 51, 53-61, 63, 73, no. 
 
 Religion, social function of, 119-121; and 
 play, 397-398 ; transformed from practi- 
 cal to academic, 503-505. 
 
 Religious education, function of the school 
 in reference to, 476-477 ; absorption of 
 the school in, 445.
 
 Index 
 
 591 
 
 Renaissance ideal of education, 4-7, o-io, 
 19, 168; and disciplinary education, 
 288 ; and imitation, 356 ; and liberal cul- 
 ture, 435, 446 ; and rise of science, 446 ; 
 schools and state and private support 
 and control, 449; ideal of secondary 
 education, 493 ; on scientific method, 
 547- 
 
 Reproduction, function of, 48-61 . 
 
 Resourcefulness, 209; factors in, 211-212. 
 
 Resources, accumulation of mental, 258- 
 270. 
 
 Ribot on irradiation of feelings, 196; on 
 creative imagination, 223. 
 
 Right, rise of the idea of, 340-341, 340-350. 
 
 Ritterakademien, 398. 
 
 Rivalry in games, 390, 392-393; age of, 
 
 394- 
 
 Roman education and discipline, 439. 
 
 Romanes on consciousness and readjust- 
 ment, 150. 
 
 Romans and military control, 441 ; and 
 study of law, 446. 
 
 Roosevelt and critical temper, 213; and 
 general power of will, 295. 
 
 Rosenkranz on training versus education, 
 27 ; on development of the faculties, 
 170-171. 
 
 Rousseau on the aim of education, 13, 20; 
 on the state of nature, 123 ; on recapitu- 
 lation, 154, 174; on negative education, 
 274 ; on education by play, 403-404, 406, 
 410. 
 
 Royce on consciousness and readjustment, 
 15. 
 
 Rudiger on training in neatness, 306. 
 
 Sanctions, 345-35. 
 
 Schiller on theory of play, 384. 
 
 Scholasticism as secular learning, 446. 
 
 School, rise of, 122, 370-371, 43-4.i3 ; 
 devotion to language of, 375 ; evolution 
 of, 440-477 ; differentiation of, 440-451 ; 
 independence of, 451-467; interde- 
 pendence with society of, 468-477 ; func- 
 tion of, 478-501 ; definition of, 478 ; 
 length of day of, 423-424; as social 
 center, 425-426. 
 
 Science and recapitulation, 184-188; and 
 formal discipline, 292-293; rivalry of 
 pure and applied, 514-515- 
 
 Scientific and historic records, 370-381. 
 
 Seasonal changes, adaptations for, 31-33, 
 50. 
 
 Secondary education and discipline, 10; 
 function of, 486-406, 560-561 ; at Re- 
 naissance, 493 ; school in Europe, 484 ; 
 phases of, 489 ; as preparatory for higher 
 education, 494-496. 
 
 Secret societies, tribal, 128-130. 
 
 Secular learning, rise of, 446-448. 
 
 Segmentary interconnections in nervous 
 system, 67-71, 00-91. 
 
 Selection, natural, 48, 54, 76-83, 109, 112- 
 113, lao, 124,132-134,145,165,480,544; 
 as the method of learning, 78 ; kinds of, 
 79; organic, 80-82; of social heredity, 
 133; symbolic individual, 146, 189, 191; 
 kinds of in conscious learning, 209-210; 
 and originality, 216-219; in perceptual 
 interpretation, 220-221 ; as shown in col- 
 lege graduates, 287 ; and imitation, 320- 
 321, 351; of the imitative, 319, 328, 
 352 ; as the function of the school, 478 
 480 ; kinds of, by the school, 480, 483- 
 484; of culture materials, 516-522; of 
 educational ideals, 524-525. 
 
 Self, concept of, 231 ; concept of, and 
 language, 365, 368. 
 
 Self-activity in culture of the reason, 273- 
 282. 
 
 Self-consciousness and imitation, 335-34' 
 
 Self-realization as aim of education, 12-16, 
 20; meaning of, 527-528. 
 
 Sensation as symbolism, 34-35. 
 
 Sentence words, 361. 
 
 Sex, effects of, 83. 
 
 Silent areas in the brain, 232. 
 
 Short cuts in recapitulation, 168. 
 
 Skeptic ethics, 509. 
 
 Slavery, origin and function of, 128, 120, 
 130. 
 
 Social control and education, 124-136, 
 education in, 131-133. 43*. 45O. 536-539, 
 541-548; and esoteric teaching, 455- 
 456; and grading children, 480; not 
 regarded as a vocation, 540-541. 
 
 Social culture as aim of education, 4-7, I 
 through play, 396, 404-405, 418-419; 
 in liberal education, 564-565. 
 
 Social environments, 36-30. 4- 
 
 Social heredity, meaning of, 97-08; evo- 
 lution of, 109-115. iJ4. M. 133-134; 
 in individual development, 142, 152; in
 
 592 
 
 Index 
 
 recapitulation, i68-i6g, 181 ; and imi- 
 tation, 341 ; and language, 366-367 ; the 
 school as improving, 433 ; as determined 
 by the school, 496-501 ; as determining 
 advantages, 550, 558. 
 
 Social instincts, 36-39. 
 
 Socialization by education, 116-122, 131- 
 132; by imitation, 318-321, 332-341, 
 345-348, 352-353; by play, 395, 397- 
 398, 418-419. 
 
 Social me, 337~338. 
 
 Social pressure in the school, 413-414. 
 
 Socrates and generalization, 267 ; and 
 method of development, 274 ; on study of 
 science, 547. 
 
 Solomon on conservation of energy and free 
 will, 28. 
 
 Solon and written law, 372. 
 
 Sophist as independent of the governing 
 class, 443, 453. 
 
 Sparta and infanticide, 481. 
 
 Spartan education, 131 ; use of play, 399 ; 
 disciplinary education, 441 ; military 
 education of, 441, 458. 
 
 Specialization, rise of, 498, 515. 
 
 Specific discipline, 305. 308-313. 
 
 Spelling matches, 403. 
 
 Spencer on aim of education, 17 ; on repro- 
 duction, 42 ; on consciousness and read- 
 justment, 150; on science and discipline, 
 292 ; on theory of play, 384 ; on laissez 
 faire in education, 459-461, 499. 
 
 Spiritual culture as aim of education, 2-4, 
 15, 19, 22; environment, 18. 
 
 Standards in judgment, 212, 214, 241-249; 
 teaching of 266-269 ! learned by imi- 
 tation, 337-340. 
 
 State and education, 430 ; and school con- 
 trol, 442-466. 
 
 Stentor, action system of, 86-87. 
 
 Stoic philosophy and Christianity, 444 ; 
 ethics, 509. 
 
 Study, training in, 274-282 ; of the foreign, 
 356-357- 
 
 Stratton on unconscious elements in per- 
 ception, 204. 
 
 Struggle for existence of subjects and cul- 
 tures, 497. 
 
 Substitution in fighting instincts, 103. 
 
 Sully on transference of feelings, 196. 
 
 Superiority, education and mental, 287. 
 
 Superstition, function of, 120121, 456. 
 
 Surplus energy theory of play, 384-385. 
 
 Sutherland on evolution of sympathy, 102 ; 
 
 on growth of parental care, no. 
 Synapsis, 43, 91. 
 
 Tarde on imitation, 318, 342, 352. 
 
 Taste, need of purifying, 569. 
 
 Teleology and education, i, 28 ; study of, 
 
 151 ; as basis of practice, 545-547. 
 Thompson on reproduction, 48. 
 Thorndike on imitation among animals, 
 
 112, 328; on learning among animals, 
 
 154, 159; on transfer of practice, 294 
 296; on elimination of pupils from 
 school, 482, 489. 
 
 Titchener on the aggregate idea, 249. 
 Total recall, 262-263. 
 Training, effect of, on bilaterally symmet- 
 rical parts, 296-297. 
 Transfer of practice, 296-309. 
 Translation as a problem of reason, 276-277. 
 Travel and spread of culture, 356. 
 Trial and error learning, 144-147, 154- 
 
 155. 190-208. 
 
 Types as the subject matter of teaching, 
 259, 264, 266. 
 
 U 
 
 Unearned increments opposed by educa- 
 tion, 554-557- 
 
 Uniform environments, 32-33. 
 
 University, study of law and medicine in 
 mediaeval, 2, 446 ; charter as a source of 
 independence, 448-449; of Paris, 449; 
 state, 464 ; appointment of rector in 
 German, 470; as the home of research, 
 500-501. 
 
 Utilitarianism in aim of education, i, 16, 
 18-24; of early religion, 503; of early 
 philosophy, 506; of early ethics, 508; 
 of early art, 510; warfare on, 509-510; 
 lack of in students, 531-533; in relation 
 to ideal values, 523-533. 
 
 Utility as a school motive, 414-415 ; higher, 
 527. 
 
 Vacations, rise of, 566-567. 
 
 Values, knowledge of, 241-249. 
 
 Variability and education, 31-32, 37, 40, 
 46-47; sources of, 31, 35, 37, 38; peri- 
 odic and unperiodic, 54-56; in environ- 
 ments, 32-41, 72-73, 81-82; and mental
 
 Index 
 
 593 
 
 power, 210, 223-225; and rationality, 
 252 ; control of, 253-254. 
 
 Variation, cause of, 74-75, 78-85, 153, 176, 
 180-181 ; in social heredity, 98, 134-135, 
 142-143; and racial progress, 144; in 
 recapitulation, 166-169; from imitation, 
 339, 342, 344-345 ; and state control of 
 schools, 458, 463; and selection in 
 values, 524-525. 
 
 Verbalism, 9, 375-378. 
 
 Verworn on seasonal adaptations, 33. 
 
 Vocation, play as preparatory for, 386, 395- 
 396, 407; as related to the avocation, 
 386-388; and education, 431; helping 
 the child to select, 485-486; education 
 for, 538-539. 
 
 Vocational instruction as contrasted with 
 liberal studies, 434-435 ; as based on 
 science, 447 ; as higher education, 491 ; 
 given in secondary schools, 494-495 ; 
 evolution of, 540-549; need of, 560-561. 
 
 Volkmann on effects of training, 296. 
 
 Voltaire on religion and social control, 119. 
 
 Voluntary imitation, 328-329. 
 
 Von Baer on recapitulation, 161, 163. 
 
 W 
 
 Wants as related to growth, 28-31 ; evo- 
 lution of, 41-47 ; as factors in learning, 
 
 86, 88-89, 09; as determined by the 
 school, 521-522. 
 
 War as an agency to spread culture, 
 355- 
 
 Washington on education in a democracy, 
 55i- 
 
 Webster on primitive adolescent culture, 
 117, 128, 129. 
 
 Weismann on inheriting acquired charac- 
 ters, 73 ; on effects of sex, 83. 
 
 Winch on training the memory, 303. 
 
 Wolf on mental discipline, 10. 
 
 Woodward on Erasmus and education, 6. 
 
 Woodworth on transfer of practice, 297; 
 on imageless thought, 365. 
 
 Work and problems, 272-273; as distinct 
 from play, 386-388, 408-412; educa- 
 tional value of, 395-396, 397, 400-401, 
 409-412, 418-420. 
 
 Youmans on mental discipline, 288-289. 
 
 Ziehen on irradiation of feelings, 196. 
 Ziller on culture epochs, 165, 183-186. 
 
 2Q
 
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