- 
 
 REESE LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 Class 
 

/ I/. V ^ < 
 ", 
 
 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
TROFESSOR LLOYD <^f ORGAN'S WORKS 
 
 ANIMAL LIFE AND INTELLIGENCE. i6s. 
 
 ANIMAL SKETCHES. 35. 6d. 
 
 THE SPRINGS OF CONDUCT. 3 s. 6d. 
 
 LONDON : EDWARD ARNOLD. 
 
PSYCHOLOGY 
 
 FOR 
 
 TEACHERS 
 
 BY C. LLOYD MORGAN 
 
 PRINCIPAL OF UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, BRISTOL 
 
 WITH A PREFACE BY 
 J. G. FITCH, M.A., LL.D. 
 
 LATE ONE OF H.M. CHIEF INSPECTORS OF TRAINING COLLEGES 
 
 LONDON 
 
 EDWARD ARNOLD 
 37 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND W.C. 
 ft'sger fo f?e 3nta Office 
 
MORRISON* AND GIBB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH 
 
 
OF THE ^ 
 
 [VERSITTJ 
 OF y 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IT is becoming daily more evident to the best teachers 
 that while Education is an art it is also_a__science, and 
 that if it is ever to be brought to perfection, it should 
 be duly studied under both aspects. Mere rules and 
 methods of teaching must ever be to a large extent 
 ascertained and verified by induction and experiment. 
 But all such rules, if they are to be worth anything, 
 must ultimately be based on mental philosophy, and 
 on acquaintance with the laws of thought and with 
 the constitution of human nature. In all the liberal 
 professions alike, the processes and methods employed 
 need to be investigated in close conection with the 
 scientific principles which underlie them, and which 
 alone can justify their application to practice. As 
 the science of jurisprudence is related to the procedure 
 of the law courts, and as the sciences of anatomy and 
 physiology are related to the healing art, so is a true 
 psychology to the profession of a schoolmaster ; and 
 it is by his recognition of the theory on which his 
 art is based, that the skilled practitioner is to be dis- 
 tinguished from the unskilled, the artist from the 
 
VI PREFACE 
 
 artisan, the accomplished and sympathetic instructor 
 from the pedant or the empiric. 
 
 There are still, however, many teachers some, 
 indeed, in schools of the highest rank who are 
 content to -regard themselves as professors of an art 
 only, and who doubt the practical value of all specu- 
 lative inquiries into the philosophy of Education. I 
 think that such teachers will be reassured, and will 
 find that some at least of their misgivings will 
 disappear, on the perusal of this book. They will 
 learn from it that many of the practical problems 
 which school - life presents cannot be satisfactorily 
 solved except in the light of such truths as the 
 science of mind reveals. 
 
 For example, it is unreasonable to expect that one 
 can superintend the formation of the character and 
 understanding of children, unless he has paid some 
 attention to the nature of the material on which he 
 proposes to work, and the conditions of its develop- 
 ment and growth. It is not possible to arrive at a 
 wise decision respecting the use which should be made 
 of the heavily burdened faculty of memory, without 
 some knowledge of those laws of mentaL suggestion 
 and association on which the operation of remembering 
 depends. Whatever of guidance and help can be 
 given to a scholar in the formation of habits either of 
 thought or action, is more likely to be furnished by 
 one who has made himself acquainted with the wonder- 
 ful way whereby actions which are at first voluntary 
 and conscious, become in time subconscious and even 
 
PREFACE Vll 
 
 automatic, than by one whose attention has never been 
 seriously directed to such inquiries. In like manner, 
 right conclusions respecting the accurate study of 
 language and the place of linguistic studies in educa- 
 tion can be arrived at only after due consideration 
 of those processes of analysis, abstraction, and general- 
 isation which are employed in defining, choosing, and 
 employing words. 
 
 The subject of hand and eye training, which has of 
 late attracted so much of the attention of teachers and 
 the public, manifestly requires for its proper elucida- 
 tion some acquaintance with the faculties employed 
 in the act of perceiving, and with the due correlation 
 of sense-experience, muscular action, and intellectual 
 activity. On all these and many cognate topics it will 
 be found that the arguments and illustrative facts set 
 forth in this volume cast a clear and interesting light. 
 On two especially the need of greater unity of moral 
 purpose in the co-ordination of studies and school 
 employments, and on the importance of taking into 
 account, when giving any lesson, the background of 
 consciousness and experience in which that lesson is, 
 so to speak, set and framed the author of this book 
 speaks with special ^emphasisL and authority, and his 
 remarks will be found of exceptional value to students. 
 The present volume consists mainly of a course of 
 lectures addressed especially to students who are in 
 training for the office of public teachers. 1 Bristol 
 
 1 I learn that the course was also delivered last August in Edinburgh 
 in connection with The Summer School of Art and Science. 
 
Vlll PREFACE 
 
 University College is one of the most vigorous and 
 promising of the great Provincial Colleges which have 
 of late come into existence, chiefly as the products of 
 local munificence, in the principal industrial centres 
 of England and Wales. The Education Department 
 has invited the co-operation of the authorities of these 
 Colleges, in the task of giving special professional 
 preparation to those of their students who intend to 
 become teachers ; and the Council and Professors have 
 in every case evinced a strong interest in the experi- 
 ment, and have made strenuous efforts to ensure its 
 success. Normal departments have been added to 
 the ordinary academical organisation ; masters and 
 mistresses of method have been appointed ; arrange- 
 ments have been made for the systematic practice of 
 the students in good schools and under supervision ; 
 and courses of lectures on the history, theory, and 
 art of teaching have 1 * been provided. Already this 
 provision is beginning to be much valued by many who 
 are destined for work in higher and intermediate as 
 well as in elementary schools. And in most of these 
 colleges the duty of lecturing on the higher aspects 
 of the teacher's work, and on so much of mental 
 philosophy as has a direct bearing on education, has 
 been entrusted to the Professor of Psychology, or has, 
 as in the case of Bristol, been undertaken by the. 
 Principal himself. I regard it as a circumstance of 
 very happy augury for the future elevation of the 
 teaching profession in England, that this, the first 
 course of Training College lectures on the science 
 
PREFACE IX 
 
 as distinguished from the practice of education, which 
 has, so far as I am aware, been published in England, 
 should issue from one of the newly constituted Day 
 Training institutions connected with a University Col- 
 lege, and should prove to be so full of wise suggestion, 
 so clear in exposition and illustration, and so well 
 calculated to broaden the intellectual horizon, and to 
 ennoble the aims of those who desire to become 
 teachers either in higher or lower schools. 
 
 My hearty commendation of this book to the 
 serious and sympathetic consideration of such persons 
 does not, of course, imply an acceptance of all its 
 psychological conclusions, as a complete and final 
 account of the genesis of mental operations and the 
 scientific basis of the pedagogic art. It is not desir- 
 able, in the present state of our knowledge, that any 
 one psychological theory should be universally accepted, 
 and regarded as orthodox. What is desirable, is that 
 men and women who intend to consecrate their lives 
 to the business of teaching, should acquire the habit 
 of studying the nature of the phenomena with which 
 they have to deal ; and of finding out for themselves 
 the laws which govern mental processes, and the con- 
 ditions of healthy growth in the minds and bodies 
 of their pupils. This book will help them much in 
 such a study, and will do so all the more effectually, 
 because it does not undertake to save the schoolmaster 
 the trouble of thinking out rules and theories for 
 himself. 
 
 Hence the reader who consults these pages in quest 
 b 
 
X PREFACE 
 
 of aphorisms, definite rules of action which are applic- 
 able to all cases, or " tips " to be used in passing an 
 examination, will not find what he seeks. But he 
 will get something better the stimulus and sugges- 
 tion which may help to make his own observations 
 of child -nature more exact; the material for new 
 thought ; and not a little aid and encouragement in 
 forming, day by day, a higher ideal both of the duty 
 he has undertaken, and of the spirit in which it is to 
 be done. 
 
 J. G. FITCH. 
 
 September 1894. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 1 
 
 II. ASSOCIATION 25 
 
 III. EXPERIENCE ........ 51 
 
 \IV. PERCEPTION 74 
 
 J^ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION .... 99 
 
 VI. DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION .... 122 
 
 VII. MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 146 
 
 VIII. LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 170 
 
 IX. LITERATURE 197 
 
 X. CHARACTER AND CONDUCT 223 
 
 INDEX , 247 
 
OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY, 
 
 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 I WOULD ask you, reader, to try and recall what has 
 passed through your mind during the last five or six 
 minutes. You will probably have some difficulty in 
 doing so. You have not, you will say, been thinking 
 of anything in particular. But, unless you have been 
 asleep or in a trance, something was passing through 
 your mind ; little perhaps that was definite, but much 
 tfrat was indefinite. 
 
 Now vary the observation. Look round the room 
 in which you are sitting. Let your eyes range from 
 object to object for a minute or two, and then 
 consider what has been passing through your mind. 
 You have seen, perhaps, in succession the clock, the 
 fireplace, the arm-chair, the table, a vase of flowers, 
 this picture, that print or photograph, and so on. 
 Some of these may have reminded you of past experi- 
 ences the print of the picture from which it has 
 
2 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 been engraved and where you first saw it ; the flowers 
 of the wood in which you picked them and of the 
 companion who was with you. The clock may have 
 brought to mind an appointment you have to keep ; 
 the fireplace, that a little judicious use of the poker 
 may be advisable. Again vary the observation. Eun 
 over in memory the events of your last holidays, 
 where you went, what you did, whom you met ; and 
 then once more consider what has been passing 
 through your mind. 
 
 All the time you are making these elementary ob- 
 servations you are conscious. That which is in your * 
 mind at any moment is a state of consciousness ; during ! 
 the few minutes occupied by your observations there 
 was a series or sequence of states of consciousness ; 
 and such t states of consciousness are passing through 
 your mind all day long. Psychology is the study of 
 the nature, mode of origin, and manner of sequence of I 
 4hese states of consciousness. You alone of all the world' 
 can say what was the nature and what the sequence 
 of your states of consciousness ; and they are the only 
 states of consciousness with which you can become 
 directly acquainted. Hence, if you would learn any- 
 thing of psychology, you must carefully examine your* 
 own mind and the nature of your own experience. 
 Such examination is called introspection. But by 
 means of language you can compare notes with your 
 neighbours ; and by the same means I can com- 
 municate to you, through the printed page, the 
 results of my own study. Moreover, by other signs 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 3 
 
 we can learn something of what is passing through 
 the minds of our companions, r But we can only 
 interpret the language and the actions of others in 
 terms of our own states^ of consciousness. If I say 
 that I have seen an ox, you understand me because 
 you have seen many oxen. If I say that I have 
 been examining the heart of a crayfish, you may 
 not understand me, or very imperfectly ; you have 
 probably never seen one, and therefore cannot in- 
 terpret my words in terms of your own experience. 
 We must always remember how limited is the experi- 
 ence of children, how difficult it must be for them to 
 interpret much that we say to them, and how apt 
 they are through imagination to form false ideas very 
 difficult to correct. 
 
 Now, states of consciousness are exceedingly 
 complex that is to say, a number of things may 
 be in one's mind at once in any moment of conscious- 
 ness. ^ It is therefore necessary to analyse our states 
 of consciousness so as to ascertain the elements of 
 which they are made up. Let us suppose that we are 
 looking at the picture on the wall. There it is in what 
 we may call the focus of vision. But it suggests 
 certain thoughts which are also present to conscious- 
 ness. And thus we see dimly the wall on which it 
 hangs, and much besides in what we may call the 
 ynargin of vision. Eealise for yourself by actual 
 observation how much you do see indistinctly in this 
 way. Furthermore, though we may pay little attention 
 to them, there are *>ther things present in what we 
 
 
4 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 may term the margin of consciousness, sounds such as 
 the ticking of the clock and the flicker of the fire- 
 flame, scents such as that of the flowers in the vase, 
 pressures from the position of the body, and that 
 general feeling which we call either freshness or 
 fatigue. We are apt to consider only that on which 
 our attention is specially fixed that which is in the 
 focus of consciousness, and to neglect the other elements 
 which lie in the margin of consciousness. And I would 
 again urge you to realise for yourself, by actual 
 observation, without which we can do nothing of 
 value in psychology, how much there is in the margin 
 of consciousness of which you are not fully conscious > 
 but merely subconscious. 
 
 The first result of our analysis of a state of 
 consciousness is therefore the distinction between 
 what is focal and what is merely marginal. It is 
 the focal element to which we attend ; indeed, we 
 may say that attention is the clear, accurate, and i 
 decisive focussing of the central element in con- 
 sciousness ; or, otherwise stated, that attention | 
 differentiates the focus from the margin. In 
 children this differentiation is probably less perfect, 
 less rapid, and less under control than in older people. 
 We must be ready to make allowances for them in 
 this respect. ( The power of bringing out the focus to 
 the neglect of the margin is a valuable gif t. j It varies 
 a good deal in different individuals. Some people can 
 read a book and follow a difficult train of reasoning 
 amid a buzz of conversation, or- in spite of the dis- 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 5 
 
 traction of a street band. With others the influence 
 of the margin is more disturbing, and the attention is 
 easily distracted. On the other hand, the observant, 
 person is one in whom occurrences in the margin of 
 consciousness can rapidly and readily be made focal. 
 For example, a naturalist, when he is out for a walk 
 with you, catches a hundred sights and sounds which 
 for you remain unnoticed. A mouse in the grass, an 
 insect on yonder flower, the note of a rare bird, have 
 caught his observant eye and ear, while yours have 
 been blind and deaf to these sights and sounds. This, 
 too, is a valuable gift. Fortunate is he who can both 
 focus rapidly and clearly, and yet retains a sensitive 
 margin in the field of consciousness. We should 
 therefore encourage the cultivation of both these 
 gifts in those in whose mental development we are 
 interested. 
 
 Let us now consider the focal elements in conscious- - 
 ness, and see \yhat they are, and how they are brought 
 to the focus. 
 
 As I look out of window, my eye falls on a distant 
 church-spire, which stands out clear-cut against a 
 background of blue sky. So long as I fix my eyes 
 upon it, that spire is in the focus of consciousness. It 
 forms a ^nsoryjim^ressioTi. As we look about from 
 object to object, we have a great number of visual 
 impressions of this kind which are brought to the focus 
 
 , by stimuli which affect the retinas of our eyes. 
 
 - While I am looking at the church-spire, however, I 
 hear the chirping of sparrows. At first this is 
 
6 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 only marginal in consciousness, but presently I cease 
 to attend to the church-spire and listen attentively. 
 The notes of the sparrows are then focal to my 
 consciousness as auditory impressions. In like 
 manner I may have olfactory impressions, or im- 
 pressions of smell, if I attend to the scent of the 
 flowers in my room ; gustatory impressions, or im- 
 pressions of taste, if I sip a sweet or bitter liquid ; 
 impressions of touch, if a fly settles on my hand or 
 forehead ; impressions of warmth or of cold, if I dip 
 my hands in hot or cold water. Forgive the iteration 
 of the first personal pronoun ; I am anxious to enforce 
 that observation must be personal and individual. ^ 
 
 These are impressions of the special senses. All of 
 them are due to stimuli coming from outside our 
 bodies and affecting special parts of ojir delicate bodily 
 organisation the eye, ear, nose, palate, or skin. 
 Eemember that we are using the term impression for 
 that which, through the instrumentality of these 
 stimuli, is brought to the focus of consciousness. A 
 ~Vast number of stimuli are constantly affecting us, 
 often through several sense - organs, or it may be 
 through all the sense-organs at the same time. Of 
 these, some predominate over the others and give rise 
 to the focal impressions ; the rest, which are subordin- 
 ate, give rise to the marginal elements in consciousness. 
 But any of these subordinate groups of stimuli may 
 attract the attention, and thus become predominant 
 and give rise to impressions. As I look at the church- 
 spire, for example, a particularly vigorous and chirpy 
 
^- 
 
 (UNIVERSITY) 
 
 STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 7 
 
 sparrow may draw my attention so as to make his 
 note focal. Or a whiff of scent from the flowers may 
 lead me to snuff the air and try to determine whether 
 it is the lilac or the mignonette which chiefly perfumes 
 my room. 
 
 Such impressions form a large part of the raw 
 material of consciousness. There are, however, other 
 impressions, less conspicuous and familiar, but of 
 considerable importance in our daily life. Close your 
 eyes and slowly move your head from side to side, 
 turning it on the axis of your neck, and carefully 
 attend to what you feel. You feel perhaps the rub- 
 bing of the skin of your neck against your collar ; you 
 feel, too, movements in your neck ; but you feel also 
 a curious sensation in your head which, if you continue 
 the movements, appears to be akin to dizziness. There 
 is, associated with the organ of hearing, but independ- 
 ent of that sense, a delicate piece of apparatus which 
 makes us acquainted with changes* in direction of the 
 movements of our head or our body as a whole. This 
 it is which probably gives us the sensation above 
 alluded to. Most of us are unaware of its existence, 
 though it probably is of use to us in our active life. 
 The effects of the stimuli from this organ are for the 
 most part marginal or subconscious, and we seldom 
 attend to them so as to bring them to the focus of 
 consciousness. For many animals they are probably 
 of more importance than they are for us. We may 
 call these impressions of direction ; but we . must 
 remember that we seldom focus them as impressions. 
 
8 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 They generally take their place unnoticed in the 
 margin of consciousness. 
 
 Now make some further experiments and observa- 
 tions, so that you may assure yourself of the reality of 
 motor impressions that is to say, impressions of the 
 movements of your limbs. Look at the clock-face or 
 any other particular object ; shut your eyes ; and, not 
 too hurriedly, point your finger at the object. Do 
 this twice or thrice, still with your eyes shut, and 
 note your states of consciousness. You will, I think, 
 notice two things. First, you picture to yourself, 
 though you do not see, the movements of your hand 
 and arm : this we may neglect for the present. 
 Secondly, you feel pretty clearly the movements of and 
 in the limb as you bring it into position. Stimuli 
 from the joints, skin, muscles, and so forth, give rise, 
 when you pay special attention to them, to motor 
 impressions. It is possible that you have never had 
 occasion to pay attention to these before. They have 
 remained for the most part as marginal elements in 
 your consciousness. I am desirous that you should 
 fully realise that such motor feelings are elements in 
 consciousness. Draw a circle in the air or on the 
 blackboard with your eyes shut : you will feel with 
 surprising distinctness all the movements of your arm. 
 You will also draw nearly as good a circle as you 
 could with your eyes open. Walk about the room : 
 every change of position of your legs is felt. Let 
 your eyes wander from object to object and pay 
 attention to their movements in the sockets : a little 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 9 
 
 practice will enable you to feel them quite clearly. 
 Now hold up a pencil or penholder about eight inches 
 from your face and in the line of vision of the picture 
 on the far wall. Alternately fix your eyes on the end 
 of the pencil and on the picture, and attend to the 
 feelings in and round your eyes. Do you not feel 
 quite plainly your eyes going, so to speak, from the 
 one to the other ? The eyes have to be accommodated 
 first for near vision, then for far; and when you 
 attend to the matter, you focus in consciousness these 
 motor impressions of accommodation. Generally, 
 however, these elements in consciousness are merely 
 marginal and subconscious. 
 
 There is one more group of impressions for us to 
 take note of. They are due to stimuli from the 
 internal organs and from parts at some little distance 
 beneath the skin. Lay your finger lightly on your 
 neck : you have an impression of touch on the skin of 
 the neck. Now press with increasing vigour: you 
 are conscious of an impression from the deeper parts 
 of the neck, 'probably accompanied by incipient pain. 
 This impression is quite different from that of touch, 
 and, though it may originate in the muscles, is quite 
 different also from a motor impression. Hunger, 
 thirst, fatigue are probably of this kind. We need 
 not linger over these internc^J^^T^ions gener- 
 ally due to pressures, strains, or some unwonted 
 condition of the parts concerned ; but we may notice 
 that they are generally suffused with pleasure, or, 
 more frequently, with pain or discomfort. 
 
10 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 Let us 'now sum up what we have learnt concerning 
 impressions. They originate from stimuli affecting 
 parts of our bodies ; and they occupy the focus of 
 consciousness. They may be either 
 
 1. Impressions of the special senses sight, hearing, 
 
 taste, smell, touch, heat, cold, or direction of 
 movements of the head ; 
 
 2. Motor impressions ; or 
 
 3. Internal impressions, such as pressures, strains, 
 
 hunger, thirst, fatigue. - 
 
 When the stimuli which may give rise to impres- 
 sions are subordinate to other more powerful stimuli, 
 they give rise to marginal elements of which we are 
 not clearly and distinctly conscious, but are only 
 indistinctly ^bconscipus. The impressions and the 
 marginal elements, alike due to stimuli, are, however, 
 similar in their nature, and differ only in the fact 
 that whereas the impressions are clear and focal, the 
 marginal elements are indistinct and subconscious. 
 
 In our adult years a great deal of the business of 
 life is transacted in the marginal or subconscious 
 region. In matters of skill, for example, though the 
 acquisition and perfecting of control over our bodily 
 activities is focal and demands attention, yet when 
 the skill has been acquired and is well established, the 
 subsequent performance of the activities is to a large 
 extent relegated to the margin. We learn to walk, to 
 run, to knit, to play the piano, to ride a bicycle ; and 
 the learning requires constant focal attention. But 
 when the skilful performance of these actions has by 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 11 
 
 practice become perfect, we may do any of these 
 things, and do them well, while the focus of conscious- 
 ness is occupied with other impressions. The peasant 
 woman knits and walks ; but in the focus of her 
 consciousness is yonder fair-haired girl whom the 
 stalwart young fellow is, quite unnecessarily, helping 
 over the stile. The pianist's fingers are running softly 
 over the keys; but his eyes and thought are fixed on 
 his mother's portrait. The cyclist bowls along the 
 road ; but it is the delicately-shaded greenery of the 
 spring that holds his attention. And in these cases 
 the actions are not performed unconsciously, but 
 subconsciously. The cyclist guides his machine, avoids 
 stones in the road, and adjusts his output of energy to 
 the gradient, in response to stimuli coming from 
 without. But the skill he has been at the pains of 
 acquiring has become so far a habit that it no longer 
 requires his focal attention. Marginal awareness suffices 
 for the guidance and control of his machine. This 
 again is a matter in which I would beg you, reader, 
 to exercise self - observation. Only by doing so will 
 you fully realise how much goes on in the margin of 
 your consciousness. And- not only is this true of our 
 active life ; it is true also of our thought. Who does 
 not know, from personal experience, that, perhaps even 
 during a sermon, there are undercurrents of thought ? 
 It is indeed only during the most concentrated atten- 
 tion, if even then, that the undercurrents are wholly 
 absent. In ojrdinar^r^atie^^ 
 keep these undercurrents duly subordinate. 
 
12 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 Sometimes we have to divide our attention, and 
 hold two series of impressions, or two parts of the 
 same series in the focus. Thus, we may read a book 
 and listen to a piece of music or a conversation. 
 Such divided attention is generally rather a strain, 
 and we get the best neither out of the book nor the 
 music. A familiar instance of attending to two parts 
 of a series at the same time is afforded when we are 
 taking notes of a lecture. We are at the same time 
 putting down the notes of what the lecturer has just 
 said and listening to what he is saying. I lately 
 watched a student thus taking notes. It was curious 
 to observe how far his pencil was behind the spoken 
 words, but he got quite correctly the gist of all the 
 lecturer said. 
 
 To resume. Impressions and the marginal elements 
 due to stimuli form the raw material of conscious- 
 ness. It must be remembered that the state of 
 consciousness of which we have practical experience 
 in any moment of our waking lives comprises, besides 
 the impression in the focus, all that is contained in 
 the margin of consciousness. Focus and margin con- 
 spire to form the state of consciousness ; and it is 
 only by analysing the state of consciousness that we 
 distinguish the focus from the margin. 
 
 We must now pass on to consider what else, other 
 than an impression, may occupy the focus of con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 When we are^, sitting quietly and are recalling the 
 sights and sounds and scents of a pleasant walk in 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 13 
 
 the country, our minds are dealing, not with present 
 impressions, but with the revivals in memory of past 
 impressions. Such revivals are termed ideas, or, to 
 particularise them more accurately, sense-ideas. The 
 images that float before the mind's eye, the recollected 
 notes of the nightingale, or the perfume of May 
 blossom, are examples of sense-ideas. They are not 
 due to stimuli coming from without, but arise through 
 suggestion in ways which will be considered in the 
 next chapter. But though they do not directly owe 
 their origin to external stimuli, they do so indirectly ; 
 for, in the absence of visual impressions of trees and 
 fields and hedgerows, we could have no images of any 
 of these things as sense-ideas. And so with other 
 forms of sense-experience. It is clear that if we 
 have never heard the notes of a nightingale, we 
 cannot recall these notes as sense-ideas. Impressions, 
 then, are matters of direct experience ; the sense-ideas 
 which represent them are like the echoes of_ this 
 experience. Hence^ we say that impressions are 
 presentative, and the corresponding sense-ideas re-pre- 
 sentative. ' Many of our words are presentative signs 
 or symbols which suggest re-presentative ideas. We 
 have, for example, an impression of an animal for 
 which, we are told, the name-sign is " sheep." After- 
 wards the presentative word " sheep " suggests a re- 
 presentative idea of the animal. The re-presentative 
 idea is, however, entirely dependent upon our actual 
 presentative experience of sheep. There can be no 
 sense-ideas without previous sense-impressions. We 
 
14 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 must never forget this when we are teaching young 
 children. The range of their sense-ideas is limited 
 to the range of their direct experience. Words for 
 objects of which they have no direct experience are 
 little more than mere sounds. 
 
 The classification of sense-ideas precisely corre- 
 sponds to the classification of the impressions of which 
 they are the re-presentative echoes. Thus we may 
 have ideas of the special senses, motor ideas, and ideas 
 which re-present the internal impressions. But the 
 several kinds of sense-ideas vary a good deal in clear- 
 ness and definiteness ; and different individuals differ, 
 not a little in their power of clearly re-presenting 
 their sensory experience. Some of us visualise clearly. 
 I can visualise distinctly anything of which I have 
 recently had a definite, clear-cut, visual impression. I 
 have also tolerably clear auditory ideas. I can re-pre-' 
 sentatively hear the notes of a violin, or French horn; 
 or piccolo. My ideas of touch-impressions are rather 
 vague ; and my ideas of taste and smell are not at all 
 definite. If I try and recall the taste of an orange, a 
 pine-apple, an acidulated drop, they are by no means 
 clearly ^distinguishable. On the other hand, my ideas 
 re-presentative of the impressions of direction of 
 rotation are much more definite, perhaps because I 
 have experimented with myself a good deal in this 
 matter. I would ask the reader to exercise some 
 self-observation, and ascertain what his own powers 
 are how far, for example, he is able to form an idea 
 of the taste of shrimps at all comparable to his visual 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 15 
 
 idea of this succulent animal. So too with regard to 
 motor ideas. My own motor ideas are remarkably 
 distinct. I can re-present to myself quite clearly any 
 of the familiar movements of my limbs ; if, for 
 example, I think of the movements necessary to 
 carry my hand to the back of my neck, I feel them 
 re-presentatively far more clearly than I can re-present 
 to myself the smell of a rose. The ideas which corre- 
 spond to internal impressions are very vague, and to a 
 large extent are emptied of the pleasurable or painful 
 accompaniment which characterises the impressions 
 themselves. 
 
 We must remember that the idea, as such, occupies 
 the focus of consciousness. In this respect it is 
 precisely analogous to the impression. And just as 
 there may be a large body of presentative elements in 
 the margin of consciousness, so too may there be* a 
 large body of re-presentative elements in the margin 
 of consciousness. As we recajl the events of our 
 pleasant country walk, there are (1) the sense-ideas 
 in the focus of consciousness ; (2) a good deal of 
 re-presentative margin, forming the background of the 
 ideas ; and (3) a certain amount of presentativl 
 margin, due to the stimuli which are affecting our 
 special senses, the sounds, scents, touches, and so 
 forth, together with motor elements due to the 
 positions of our limbs and pressures from our 
 attitude. Neglecting these presentative elements in 
 the margin, it would seem that the focal ideas are 
 not so clearly marked off from the re-presentative 
 
16 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 elements in the margin of consciousness as is the 
 case with impressions. Indeed, in certain states of 
 reverie, our consciousness seems all margin, without 
 anything definite in the focus. Our day-dream is 
 peopled with shadowy phantoms which dimly flit across 
 the scene with delightful inexactness of outline. 
 
 There is one more point to notice about sense-ideas, 
 and it helps to show why they are often less clear-cut 
 than the impressions of which they are re-presentative. 
 The impressions are always of particular objects. If 
 we let our eyes range over a flock of sheep, each in- 
 dividual sheep may come to the focus as an impression. 
 But if, as we sit at home, we recall our experiences 
 in the field, what we visualise is not any particular 
 sheep, but what is common to a number of individuals. 
 We can indeed visualise either a white sheep or a 
 black sheep ; but neither of them has that perfectly 
 clear-cut individuality which the impression of a sheep 
 would have. Just as the word " sheep " is a common 
 noun, or a name common to a number of individuals, 
 so is my idea of a sheep a common, or, to employ 
 the technical term, a generic idea. Hence what we 
 visualise most clearly is the particular object or 
 person. I can visualise quite distinctly the cottage 
 in which I lived at the Cape, with its convolvulus- 
 covered stoep or verandah, the pear tree in front of it, 
 and the cliffs of Table Mountain which rose at some 
 distance behind it. All of this is particular. But I 
 cannot visualise in the same way " cottage," because 
 I have seen so many cottages. Thus, the impression is 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 17 
 
 always particular ; lut the sense-idea may le either 
 particular or generic. 
 
 So far as our analysis of states of consciousness has 
 at present carried us, we may have, in the focus, 
 impressions or their corresponding ideas ; and, in the 
 margin, preservative elements due to subordinate 
 stimuli, and the corresponding re-presentative ele- 
 ments. Let us now proceed a step Jarther. There 
 lies before me a stick of sealing-wax, which gives 
 rise to a visual impression as I look at it. And close 
 by it there lies a penwiper. As I look from one to * 
 the other, I am struck by the fact that the colour of 
 the wax is the same as the colour of the penwiper. 
 In the act of perceiving the similarity of the colour, 
 this particular element in the impressions becomes 
 predominant, to the subordination of other elements. 
 On my desk there lies also a book bound in red ; but 
 the colour is deep and full, and 1 perceive that it 
 differs from the vermilion-red of the sealing-wax, and 
 from that of the piece of blotting-paper on which my 
 manuscript rests. Now, in such cases we perceive the 
 similarity or the dissimilarity of the colours. What 
 we thus perceive is called a relation. We perceive 
 the colour - relations of certain visual impressions. 
 These relations are not impressions of the same kind 
 as those we have so far considered. [The impressions 
 of sense are due, as we have seen, to stimuli ; but we 
 know nothing of any stimuli which give rise to the 
 feeling or consciousness of relation. And yet this 
 feeling is one that is quite distinct. We know that 
 
18 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 the darker red is due to stimuli of a particular kind, 
 and that the lighter red is due to stimuli of a slightly 
 different kind. The related reds are thus both parts 
 of sense-impressions ; but the relation itself is not, so 
 far as we know, due to stimuli. It seems to take its 
 origin in the transition in consciousness from the darker 
 red to the lighter red. But since the transition is 
 between impressions due to stimuli, we may con- 
 veniently widen our definition of impressions so as to 
 include these transitions terming them impressioiis of 
 relation. And we may speak of a relation as present- 
 ative when it is perceived to hold good between two 
 presentative impressions ; and as re-presentative, or an 
 idea of relation, when we think of the relation between 
 two sense-ideas, or between a sense-impression and a 
 sense-idea. We may have, for example, sense-ideas of 
 the deep green of the Scotch fir and of the tender 
 green of the budding larch, and may then perceive 
 their relationship, and thus have an idea of relation, 
 which is the transition in consciousness, not between 
 presentative impressions, but between re-presentative 
 x ideas. 
 
 It need scarcely be said that it is not only of 
 colours, the example here chosen for purposes of 
 illustration, that relations hold good. We perceive 
 the relations of scents, of sounds, of tastes, of touches, 
 of pressures, of changes in the amount and direction of 
 movement. We perceive relations of size, of weight, 
 of intensity, of temperature, of hardness. It is not 
 too much_ to say that all our thought and all our / 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 
 
 
 intellectual knowledge are dependent upon the 
 perception of relations ; and that for us the transitions 
 in consciousness from impression to impression, 
 and from sense - idea to sense - idea, are quite as 
 important as the sense-impressions and sense - ideas 
 themselves. 
 
 We must learn to distinguish carefully between 
 sense 7 experience or sensation and perception. The term 
 " sensation " is rather a puzzling one in psychology. 
 We may altogether exclude the popular use of the 
 word, when we say, for example, that a book or an 
 actor has created a sensation. First, then, the word 
 IC sensation " is used in psychology as a general name 
 for the faculty (by which we mean any special mode 
 of the exercise of consciousness) of experiencing im- 
 pressions or ideas of sense. We shall employ the 
 term "sense-experience" for the experience gained 
 through sensation./' We need, however, a verb to 
 answer to sensation, as the verb " perceive " answers 
 to perception. I shall use the verb " to sense " for this 
 purpose. So far, the term "sensation" does not 
 present any great difficulty. But the results of the 
 analysis of impressions are spoken of as " sensations." 
 Thus we say that an impression of sight is due to a 
 number of visual sensations ; and we speak of sensa- 
 tions of touch, and of motor sensations. Often the 
 words " impression " and " sensation " are used as 
 synonymous. Thus we speak either of an impression 
 of sound or smell, or of a sensation of sound or smell 
 either of a motor impression, or of a motor sensation. 
 
20 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 In such cases we are unable to analyse the impression 
 into distinguishable sensations ; or, in other words, the 
 impression is a homogeneous sensation, whereas in the 
 visual impression we may have of an apple there are 
 a number of distinguishable sensations of red, green, 
 and so forth. It will be noted that the word " sensa- 
 tion," as a general term for the sensing of impressions, 
 cannot be used in the plural, or with the indefinite 
 article ; but we speak of " a sensation " or " sensa- 
 tions "when we refer to those elementary factors of 
 impressions of sense which are disclosed by psycho- 
 logical analysis. 
 
 Sensation and sense-experience, then, deal with im- 
 pressions and ideas of sense ; while perception introduces 
 us ta what have been termed impressions and ideas of 
 , relation. We may now proceed a step farther. 
 
 Looking at the sealing-wax and the penwiper, I 
 again perceive the similarity of colour, and, glancing 
 up at my shelves, I see, here and there, books the 
 bindings of which present just the same vermilion 
 colour. Now, leaning back in my chair with closed 
 eyes, I cause visual ideas of the sealing-wax, the pen- 
 wiper, and the books to pass before my mind's eye. 
 In each of these visual ideas the colour-element is 
 predominant ; and then I think of the vermilion colour 
 which is common to all of them ; and as I do so the 
 different margins of subordinate elements fadejiway, 
 leaving the idea of vermilion in possession of the field. 
 Such an idea, re-presentative of an element common to 
 several or many impressions, is termed an alstract 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 21 
 
 idea. It results from, first, generalising the effects of 
 predominant elements in several sense-impressions ; 
 secondly, perceiving the similarity of these predomi- 
 nant elements, each to each ; and lastly, abstracting 
 this predominant element from the subordinate 
 elements with which it is associated. When the 
 element is merely predominant, the subordinate 
 elements are still present in the margin of conscious- 
 ness; but when the abstract idea is reached, the 
 subordinate elements, so to speak, neutralise each 
 other, and are ignored or neglected. Eedness is thus 
 an abstract sense-idea. Our language is full of words 
 which signify elements or qualities of sense-impres- 
 sions floated off by abstraction from the other 
 elements or qualities with which they were associ- 
 ated in the sense - impression as it was actually 
 experienced. The process of attaining, through 
 generalisation, to an idea of that which is common 
 to a number of particular experiences, is termed 
 conception. We conceive redness, size, weight, hard- 
 ness, and so fofth^- We can conceive also virtue, 
 beauty, truth, apart from the particular persons 
 by whom, or the actions in which, these excellencies 
 are exemplified. 
 
 We can also, through generalisation, reach a con- 
 ception of relation. Suppose that we perceive that 
 this piece of string is twice as long as that piece ; 
 this bullet twice as heavy as that bullet ; this note 
 twice as loud as that ; this pressure twice that ; this 
 light twice as brilliant as that. The same relation, 
 
22 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 which we may call that of " twiceness," or of two to 
 one, holds good for all these varied experiences. In 
 the act of perceiving the relation in each case we 
 make it predominant. And when we think over the 
 experiences we neglect or ignore the subordinate 
 elements therein, and rise to an abstract idea of relation. 
 The abstract idea of relation has two points in common 
 with the abstract sense-idea (such as that of redness) : 
 (1) that it is the result of generalising from several 
 or many particular experiences, and (2) that it is, so 
 to speak, floated off from actual experience, though it 
 arises therefrom. 
 
 As it is important to distinguish between sensation 
 and perception, so also is it important to distinguish 
 between perception and conception. Perception deals 
 vritli particular instances ; and we perceive a particular 
 relation. Conception deals with the results of generalisa- 
 tion ; we conceive the quality or relation as common to a 
 number of particular cases. 
 
 We may now classify as follows : 
 
 FOCAL TO CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 Presentative. Re-presentative. 
 
 SENSATION. 
 
 Impressions of sense Ideas of sense or sense-ideas. 
 
 (analysable into sensations). 
 
 PERCEPTION. 
 
 Impressions of relation Ideas of relation 
 
 (i.e. transitions in consciousness (i.e. transitions in consciousness 
 between sense-impressions)u between sense-ideas, or between a 
 sense-idea and a sense-impression). 
 
STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS 23 
 
 CONCEPTION, 
 
 (There are no impressions under Predominant and Abstract sense- 
 the head of conception. The pre- ideas. 
 
 sentative material is given in Sensa- Predominant and Abstract ideas 
 tion and Perception. of relation. 
 
 (Both as a rule generalised. ) 
 
 . It must be remembered that the above classification 
 deals with what is focal to consciousness, and that 
 states of consciousness as they are actually experienced 
 comprise a great deal that is marginal. During 
 healthy normal waking life there is always much that 
 is presentative in the margin of consciousness. It is 
 this that in the midst of our abstract thought, or our 
 flights of imagination, keeps us in touch with our 
 immediate surroundings and the practical realities of 
 our life. But the margin may contain in addition to 
 these presentative sense-elements, and in addition to 
 re-presentative elements of the same category, further 
 elements due to perception and conception. For 
 intellectual men and women, who deal largely with 
 knowledge and the relations of phenomena, all that 
 they see and hear, all their experience, is set in a 
 relational background. Their impressions and their 
 ideas of sense are something more than mere impres- 
 sions or sense-ideas. Set as they are in a relational 
 background, the objects of sense are suffused with 
 meaning. This it is that makes us rational beings. 
 
 Much therefore depends, not only upon the nature 
 of that which is focal to consciousness, but upon the 
 relation of this focal object to the margin, or the 
 mental background, as we may term it. Where an 
 
24 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 object of sense is set in a background which contains 
 no other elements than those introduced through 
 sense-experience, it may be termed a sencept. When 
 the impression or idea is set in a background of per- 
 ceived relations, we term it a percept ; and where it is 
 set in a background of conceived relationships, we 
 apply to it the term concept. These terms will not, 
 however, have much significance for us until we have 
 learnt more concerning perception and conception. 
 
 We have, in this chapter, been considering only 
 that which is termed the cognitive aspect of conscious- 
 ness. Cognition deals with our knowledge and all that 
 leads up to it. Nothing, or scarcely anything, has 
 been said concerning those aspects of our conscious 
 life which are comprised by psychologists under the 
 emotions and the will. These we must leave for 
 future consideration. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 ASSOCIATION. 
 
 WE have seen that in any moment of consciousness 
 there is, in addition to the focal impression or idea, 
 much that hovers indistinctly in the margin of the 
 mind's eye. A state of consciousness, as we have 
 defined it, includes both the impression or idea in the 
 focus and all that there is in the marginal region. 
 
 Now, when we are experiencing a series of visual 
 impressions are looking, for example, at a row of 
 figures each member of the series occupies the focus 
 of consciousness in succession. But when any one 
 impression is succeeded by another, it does not at once 
 and altogether disappear out of consciousness. It 
 ceases indeed toTie focal, but it is carried on in the 
 margin. As you read slowly what is printed on this 
 page, you experience a series of visual impressions 
 which suggest certain ideas. Butj^ each visual im- 
 pression and its idea ceases to be focal, it does not, at 
 once lapse out of your consciousness : it passes into 
 the subconscious margin. If you did not thus retain 
 in mind whatTwas said at the beginning of a sentence 
 or a paragraph, how could you possibly understand 
 
 25 
 
26 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 what was said at its close ? How could you detect 
 any fault in construction or fallacy in reasoning ? A 
 simple arithmetical series will afford an illustration of 
 this carrying on into the margin. Take 7, add 5, 
 divide by 2 ; answer, 6. A quick child can do this 
 "in his head" without difficulty. But it would be 
 impossible to perform this simple series of arithmetical 
 operations if, when the sound " two " fell on his ears, 
 the idea of " seven " had already lapsed altogether from 
 consciousness. I would urge the reader to make 
 observations on his own mental sequences so as to 
 realise this carrying on of focal elements into the 
 margin of consciousness. It plays an important part 
 in giving continuity to our thought and experience. 
 
 But the effective carrying on of elements in con- 
 sciousness, and the power of utilising what is thus 
 carried on, varies much according to the degree of 
 mental development. There is a story of a yokel who 
 was told that " the farmer had given Jim the sack." 
 He asked slowly, " Who's given Jim the sack ? " And 
 on being told it was the farmer, scratched his head 
 and asked, " What's farmer given Jim ? " When this 
 question was answered, the yokel asked, " Who's farmer 
 given the sack to ? " And so on, round and round. 
 His consciousness could not hold all three farmer, 
 Jim, and the sack in one synthesis. Some children 
 seem unable to perform even a simple series of arith- 
 metical operations " in their heads " ; either the carry- 
 ing on into the margin does not occur, or they are, as 
 yet, unable to utilise the material so carried on. The 
 
ASSOCIATION 27 
 
 teacher must be ever ready to make allowances for 
 such immaturities of faculty. 
 
 The gradual fading of impressions and ideas, instead 
 of their sudden and instantaneous cessation in con- 
 sciousness, is sometimes said to fall under the head of 
 memory. It is more satisfactory, however, to apply 
 the term memory to those mental occurrences which are 
 involved in the recall, or re-presentation, of what has 
 for a longer or shorter period completely faded out of 
 consciousness. Thus we may remember events which 
 have not in any way been present to consciousness for 
 weeks, months, or even years. 
 
 The phenomena of memory involve three things : i 
 first, registration', secondly, retention^ and thirdly, recall* 
 or reproduction. It is clear that registration and * 
 retention are not the same. If we register a fact in 
 our diary with ink which fades in a week, there will be 
 no retention of the fact registered beyond that limited 
 period. But in what way the effects of impressions 
 are registered and retained we are scarcely in a posi- 
 tion here to consider. The registration is effected 
 somehow in our brains, and the effects so produced 
 are in some manner retained by the brain-structures. 
 When we speak into a phonograph, the effects of our 
 voice are registered on the cylinder of the instrument, 
 and are there retained in such a way that the sounds 
 can be reproduced at any subsequent time. The 
 sounds themselves are not in any way retained ; but 
 the conditions of their reproduction are established. 
 
 This is only a rough analogy ; but it. helps us to 
 
 E LIBR^; 
 
28 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 understand the kind of way in which, though the 
 mental impressions, as such, cannot be retained by 
 the brain, the conditions of their reproduction may be 
 impressed upon the brain-structure. It is probable 
 that retentiveness is a natural gift which is not in any 
 marked degree susceptible of improvement. We must 
 just make the best we can of the natural memory of 
 which we stand possessed. But the power of recall, 
 within the limits of our natural retentiveness, can be 
 very markedly improved. If we use the term remem- 
 brance for the natural coming to mind of ideas without 
 conscious effort, and the term recollection for the 
 process of, so to speak, hunting up an idea, then we 
 may say that remembering is a natural faculty, but 
 ! > recollecting is an acquired art. And in this termin- 
 ology we may speak of " trying to recollect," but not 
 of " trying to remember." Upon what the art of 
 recollecting is based we will consider presently; we 
 have first to see upon what the natural faculty of 
 remembering depends. 
 
 It depends upon what are termed the laws of asso- 
 ciation of impressions and ideas, and especially upon 
 that which is called the law of contiguity. This law, 
 in so far as it applies to impressions and ideas, we 
 may formulate as follows : If any two focal elements 
 in consciousness, c and I, occur in successive moments 
 of consciousness as impressions, the subsequent recur- 
 rence of c as impression or idea will tend, under 
 similar marginal conditions, to suggest the recurrence 
 of I as an idea. We are out for a country walk, for 
 
ASSOCIATION 29 
 
 example, with a naturalist, and hear a peculiar laugh- 
 ing, hawk-like note. " That's the alarm note of the 
 hen cuckoo," he says. An association is thus formed 
 between that particular sound and the name " cuckoo," 
 with all that it suggests. And henceforward, so long 
 as the association-link holds in memory, that sound 
 suggests the name and idea of a cuckoo. I well 
 remember the first perch I caught. I had pulled out 
 some gudgeons, and held them firmly in my small 
 hand to unhook them. I therefore did the same with 
 the perch, and had painful experience of his prickly 
 fin. An association was formed between the sight of 
 a perch and its sharp fin spines which led me to be 
 more careful for the future. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to point out how important 
 is the establishment of association-links in the acquisi- 
 tion of practical experience. Our cradle - days are 
 largely spent in such self-education. Without the 
 formation of association - links there would be no 
 profiting by experience. Were a child to scald his 
 tongue with hot porridge fifty times in succession, of 
 what avail would it be to him if the sight of the steam 
 did not suggest through association an idea of the 
 consequences previously experienced, in the light of 
 which he could exercise control over his actions ? The 
 value of association in practical experience lies in the 
 fact that ideas are suggested with sufficient rapidity to 
 intervene between impressions (such as those of the 
 sight of steaming porridge and the burning of one's 
 mouth), and through their intervention render possible 
 
30 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 the guidance of our actions. Our cradle-days, I repeat, 
 are largely spent in gaining experience of this homely, 
 practical kind, thus rendered available through associa- 
 tion. 
 
 And when we pass from the cradle to the nursery, 
 from the nursery to the garden, thence to the playing- 
 fields, and so into the wide world, the same kind of 
 practical self-education through experience is our con- 
 stant guide. All our practical acquaintance with the 
 nature of things, with their effects on each other and 
 on ourselves, with what we can do and what is beyond 
 our powers, all this is rendered serviceable to us 
 through association. As impression after impression 
 glides through the focus of consciousness, each becomes 
 linked through association to its successor ; and as it 
 fades away through the marginal region, lapsing more 
 or less rapidly out of our consciousness, it does not 
 pass altogether beyond recall ; for the linkage of 
 association binds the whole series into a chain. Now, 
 if the nature of our conscious life were such as always 
 to present us with new impressions no one impression 
 occurring twice this association linkage would be 
 of no practical service or value. For the law of 
 suggestion through association is that when two focal 
 elements, c and Z, succeed each other as impressions, 
 the subsequent recurrence of c will tend to suggest the 
 recurrence of its successor I as an idea ; and if there 
 was always a succession of mw impressions, it is clear 
 that there could be no such recurrence as is essential 
 for suggestion through association. The nature of our 
 
ASSOCIATION 3 1 
 
 practical experience is, however, such as to present 
 the same impressions, often in the same order of 
 sequence, again and again. And the law of suggestion 
 through association expresses the fact that when an 
 impression c does so recur, it tends to suggest an idea 
 re-presentative of the impression I which originally 
 followed c. If, for example, a child is brought into 
 the study of his father, who is a smoker, the child will 
 see his father strike a match, will hear the " quick, 
 sharp scratch/' and will see the spurt of flame. 
 These will become associated. When on a subsequent 
 occasion the father takes up the box of matches, the 
 ideas of striking, of the sharp, grating sound, of the 
 flash of flame, will be suggested. And the ideas so 
 suggested will be reinforced by the recurrence of the 
 series of impressions. The repetition of the series will 
 reinforce the association, and will render the recurrence 
 of the ideas in due sequence on a subsequent occasion 
 more probable. 
 
 Association thus begets expectations, and when the 
 expectations are repeatedly fulfilled they grow in 
 strength and become ingrained in the mental nature, j 
 It is through these expectations, affording as they do 
 data for the guidance of action, that experience is 
 practically serviceable. And the rudiments of this 
 serviceable experience are gained in the cradle, 
 extended and strengthened in the nursery, and 
 amplified in all the subsequent practical commerce 
 with the world. The gaining of the experience is, more- 
 over, a purely individual matter. But it is a matter 
 
32 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 in which parents and teachers afford aid and guidance. 
 Our aim here, in the education of sense-experience, is 
 to give the infant or the child, or the developing boy 
 or girl, opportunities for the acquisition of healthy, 
 wholesome experience. The acquisition itself is an 
 individual matter ; all that we can do is to secure 
 satisfactory conditions for self - development. And 
 this is a matter which requires tact and judgment. 
 The world is full of objects which are either at once 
 unpleasant and harmful, or pleasant for the moment 
 but harmful in the long run. We have to furnish 
 the conditions for the gradual but sure acquisition 
 of experience of these objects. The child who never 
 has a chance of bruising his body or mind against 
 these objects will not be prepared to avoid contact 
 with them when he is older. He will have to gain 
 his experience of them some day ; when this day 
 shallcome, it is often by no means easy to decide. 
 
 So far we have been considering the mere sense- 
 experience of the world in which the child develops 
 from infancy to manhood ; so far we have been merely 
 regarding him as a healthy, active, vigorous animal, 
 one who is wide awake to the practical nature of 
 things, and can walk sure-footedly along the path of 
 his animal life. All this practical experience is 
 dependent upon association /it must be individually 
 acquired, but it may be acquired under conditions 
 specially presented. The presentation of these ap- 
 propriate conditions falls within the function and 
 office of the teacher. 
 V 
 
ASSOCIATION 33 
 
 But man, though he possesses a healthy animal 
 nature, is also possessed of faculties which are dis- 
 tinctly human. He is, for example, among other 
 things a talking animal one who can communicate 
 with his fellows. And it is clear that the acquisition 
 of language, the medium of communication, is _de- 
 pendent upon association. The child who sees the 
 dog, hears also the word " dog/' or " bow-wow " ; 
 again and again the sight of the animal is followed 
 by the sound of its name, and the sound followed by 
 sight. The two become closely linked, so that the one 
 suggests the other. / All the common objects of daily 
 sense-experience are thus associated with sounds of 
 suggestive value. And when the child begins himself 
 to speak, a further association is formed between the 
 sight of the object, the sound of its name, and the 
 impression due to the utterance of the word. The 
 dog seen and heard, the word " dog " or " bow-wow " 
 heard and uttered, all become associated together. 
 
 It is important that, so far as is possible, the 
 association should be a direct, one between a sense- 
 impression and its name. We give our children 
 picture-books in which a number of animals, from a 
 mouse to an elephant, are portrayed, more or less 
 inaccurately, of about the same size. The child 
 learns to associate names with some or all of these ; 
 but I question whether such associations are of very 
 much value. The object of a picture is to suggest to 
 the mind that which is pictured. For us who have 
 seen a lion or a rabbit, the pictures of these animals 
 3 
 
34 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 have due suggestive value ; for us, who understand scale 
 and perspective, there are the materials, in an adequate 
 picture, for recalling to mind or indicating the animal 
 as it really is. But for the child the impression pro- 
 duced by the picture is presumably simply a new 
 impression of a particular order, and has little or no 
 suggestive value. The name associated becomes the 
 name of that picture-impression, not the name of that 
 which the picture represents. A child who could 
 give the names of the animals in his natural history 
 picture-book was shown a shrew mouse and asked 
 what it was. After some hesitation, he said a tapir. 
 Possibly it was the long snout which suggested this 
 answer. It is always well to establish associations 
 between the actual objects and their names. 
 
 When, at a later stage of his development, the child 
 is learning the suggestive value of written symbols for 
 the word-sounds with which he has already become 
 acquainted, further associations are established. The 
 name "dog" as heard and as uttered is associated 
 with the visual impression of the name as written or 
 printed, and sooner or later with the motor impressions 
 of writing the name. And here comes in one of the 
 great difficulties which both the child and the teacher 
 have to meet and overcome. The word " cat " as 
 heard is a comparatively simple auditory impression ; 
 the word " cat " as uttered affords a motor impression 
 that is not very complex ; and the word " cat " as 
 seen is a visual impression of no great complexity ; 
 but the word " cat " as spelt involves an operation of 
 
ASSOCIATION 35 
 
 no little difficulty. It involves the analysis of the 
 word, as seen, into three constituents, c, a, and t ; no 
 one of these three constituents, as named, has the 
 same value, either for hearing or for pronunciation, as 
 it has in combination in the word " cat " ; and yet the 
 child has to grasp that when these three symbols he 
 calls c, a, t, unite to form the word, that word is pro- 
 nounced " cat." 
 
 With the analysis and synthesis involved in 
 spelling we are, however, not at present concerned. 
 It is to the associations involved that we have to 
 direct our attention. The sound (auditory impression) 
 of the word " cat," and the pronunciation (motor 
 impression) of the same word have already been 
 associated with each other, and with the sight (visual 
 impression) of a particular animal or species of 
 animals. These are now further associated with the 
 sight of the word " cat " as written or printed. On 
 the method of teaching to read by words rather than 
 by letters, which is certainly psychologically justifiable, 
 the association is a direct one between the sound of 
 the word and the visual impression of the word as a 
 whole. But when the analysis of spelling is sub- 
 sequently introduced, further associations are estab- 
 lished, (1) between the sight of the constituent " c " 
 by itself and the name " C " which we give it ; and 
 (2) between the sight of the constituent " c " as com- 
 bined with " at " in the word " cat," and the hard 
 " k "-sound for which it then stands. This double asso- 
 ciation is not very simple, and is somewhat confusing. 
 
36 
 
 We should not therefore feel surprised if the child has 
 some difficulty in mastering it. And when the child 
 begins to write, yet further associations have to be 
 established between (1) the movements of the fingers 
 (motor impressions) necessary to form the letter " c," 
 (2) its name " C," and (3) its " k "-sound value in the 
 pronunciation of the word " cat." In some foreign 
 languages these initial difficulties are somewhat re- 
 duced ; but the French child who has to struggle with 
 " chat " is not much better off than the English child 
 who has to contend with " cat." 
 
 When, now, these associations have been established, 
 the sound of the word "cat" may suggest (1) a visual 
 idea of the animal, or (2) a visual idea of the word 
 " cat/' or (3) a motor idea of the pronunciation of that 
 word ; while the visual idea of the word may further 
 suggest its analysis in spelling. When a given impres- 
 sion may suggest one of several ideas such as those 
 numbered (1), (2), (3) above we speak of divergent 
 association. And, conversely, when several impressions, 
 such as the sound of the word " cat," the sight of the 
 word, or an outline picture of the animal, suggest the 
 same idea e.g. the visual idea or mental image of the 
 animal we speak of convergent association. Both 
 convergent association and divergent association are of 
 .great psychological value. 
 
 The earliest words used by (and probably also the 
 earliest words understood by) children are those which 
 are symbolic of what we may describe as elementary 
 modes of conscious experience, such as sense-impres- 
 
r UlpM*ps. 
 
 ASSOCIATIO^-" 37 
 
 ^v^AUFQRNI^^X 
 
 sions, motor impressions, and their simple emotional 
 accompaniments. Words involving impressions of re- 
 lation come later ; but the manner of their association 
 with the modes of experience they symbolise is of 
 like nature to that which has been briefly described. 
 The progress of the child in the use of language is to 
 a large extent the index of its progress in mental 
 development. We are not, however, at present 
 endeavouring to trace the stages of this development. 
 Our immediate subject is association ; and the associa- 
 tion of words with the modes of consciousness they 
 symbolise is throughout similar in its nature. 
 
 A goodTdeal of the work of the teacher in the 
 initial stages of education is concerned with the 
 establishment of associations which must of necessity 
 seem to the learner in so far as he troubles his little 
 head about the matter quite arbitrary. It is rather 
 the fashion nowadays to inveigh against learning 
 things parrot-fashion. But a good deal of parrot-work 
 is necessary and quite unavoidable. The multiplication 
 table, the tables of weights and measures, the vocabu- 
 laries of foreign languages, declensions and the 
 conjugation of verbs, rules and their exceptions, the 
 dates of certain salient events, these and much 
 besides must be committed to memory, that is to say, 
 linked by direct association^ And here the boy or 
 girl of strongly tenacious memory has a great advan- 
 tage over his or her companions who are less favoured 
 by natural endowment. There would seem to be no 
 necessary connection between a retentive memory and 
 
38 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 power of understanding and comprehending. The 
 boy who has a naturally retentive memory is one in 
 whose mind associations, once formed, hold good, so 
 that when once c has been associated with Z, the 
 recurrence of c at once and with certainty, under 
 appropriate conditions, suggests I. And this seems to 
 be quite independent of whether the relation which 
 c bears to I is understood or not. The boy who has 
 such a memory has, I repeat, a great advantage over 
 his fellows in the early stages of his school career, 
 and if he have good powers of understanding as well, 
 the advantage is a permanent one. His less fortunate 
 comrade has to spend far more time in the drudgery 
 of establishing with difficulty abiding association-links. 
 But, however good his understanding, such drudgery 
 is essential if he is to attain success. Few subjects are 
 more dependent on understanding and the perception 
 of relations than mathematics, and yet perhaps in no 
 subject is either a naturally retentive memory or 
 much drudgery in the establishment of associations, 
 one or other, more essential. Furnished myself with 
 fairly quick understanding, but wretched natural 
 power of retentiveness, I had, as a boy, little difficulty 
 in following a proposition of Euclid or grasping the 
 explanation of a mathematical problem. My master, 
 pleased with my quickness, but too lenient to insist on 
 the drudgery which was absolutely necessary in my 
 case, failed to make me acquire that groundwork of fixed 
 associations without which no one can become a mathe- 
 matician. And for this in due course I had to suffer. 
 
ASSOCIATION 39 
 
 I shall not, I trust, be misunderstood when I con- 
 tend that parrot-work and learning by rote, often a 
 matter of somewhat wearisome drudgery, are essential 
 for the establishment of associations necessary for 
 mental development. Of course the understanding 
 must be trained and exercised at the same time. 
 But to understand and to remember, or to be in a 
 position to recollect, are not the same thing, and are not 
 even necessarily connected. ) And if we would make 
 [progress in knowledge, we must remember as well as ; 
 ^understand. There can be little question that, for 
 child as for adult, the exercise of the understanding 
 is more pleasurable than learning by rote. It is part 
 of the art of the teacher to preserve a due proportional 
 relation between drudgery and interest. And much 
 may be done to lighten the drudgery by sympathy. 
 Over the lintel of every school should be engraved 
 the precept : Establish a background of sympathy. 
 The child will do much that is irksome to give 
 pleasure to one with whom he is in sympathy. This 
 condition of sympathy should be a permanent element 
 in the marginal region of the consciousness both of 
 teacher and of taught. 
 
 And perhaps nowhere in the early establishment of 
 associations is the background of sympathy more 
 essential than in the matter of rewards and punish- 
 ments ; and nowhere is tact and judgment more 
 urgently required. In the animal life of sense-experi- 
 ence the commerce with the world brings with it, 
 more or less swiftly and directly, its pleasures or its 
 
40 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHEES 
 
 pains. And these associations of pleasurable or 
 painful results with particular actions are of the 
 utmost service in the guidance of life. But when we 
 are laying the foundations of a structure of knowledge, 
 built upon the solid ground of sense-experience, but 
 rising above it, these natural incentives or deterrents 
 are no longer of the same guiding value. We have 
 to institute an artificial system of rewards and 
 punishments as incentives to industry and deterrents 
 from idleness and inattention. What the rewards, 
 what the punishments, should be, and how they should 
 be distributed, it is not for me to say. My present 
 business is to draw attention to the fact that they 
 involve associations ; and that if the associations are 
 to be established, and to have really guiding value, 
 it is essential that they should be as direct and 
 as uniform as possible. For the establishment of 
 associations, it is of no use to reward or to punish 
 a child some time after the event ; nor is it of any 
 use sometimes to punish and sometimes to let alone. 
 If fire sometimes burnt the child's fingers and some- 
 times did nothing of the sort, a fixed association would 
 never be established. And if the same action some- 
 times leads to punishment and at other times is 
 winked at, all the associative value of the punishment 
 is lost. Boys much prefer a master who is uniformly 
 strict to one who is sometimes lenient and at other 
 times exacting. 
 
 Enough has now been said to show how important 
 is association in the education of the schoolroom as in 
 
ASSOCIATION 41 
 
 the life of sense-experience. It may be well, however, 
 before passing on to other forms of association, to point 
 out that all the teacher can do in this matter is to 
 afford to the child, boy or girl, opportunities for the 
 establishment of associations. Mental development is 
 an individual matter. Each must establish his own 
 association-links for himself. No one can do this for 
 him. The art of education is the art of furnishing thel 
 best possible conditions for self -development. 
 
 Let us now pass on to consider briefly what is 
 
 , termed association by similarity. Personally I should 
 
 ~~"^ 
 prefer the phrase suggestion ~by similarity, or better 
 
 still, suggestion ly resemblance. A short time ago, 
 while I was looking at Crook's Peak in Mendip from 
 a certain point of view, I was suddenly reminded of 
 the Corcovado Mountain on the Bay of Eio. There 
 was sufficient resemblance between the two peaks for 
 the one to suggest the other. The suggestion having 
 once occurred, Crook's Peak having suggested 
 Corcovado, the impression and idea became associated 
 by contiguity, and thus the original suggestion was 
 reinforced. Now, whenever I see Crook's Peak, the 
 Corcovado is brought to mind. A great deal of this 
 sort of thing must go on in the early development 
 of sense - experience ; and it is further enforced in 
 the initial stages of education^ The child is well 
 acquainted with Spot, the family fox-terrier calls it 
 " Tot," perhaps. It sees, out of doors, another terrier, 
 bigger and without the great black patch round the 
 left eye, but on the w r hole resembling Spot ; and at 
 
42 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 once calls out " Tot." As the child learns the use of 
 words, the range and limits of suggestion by resem- 
 blance must be gradually brought home. Our nouns 
 are, many of them, common names for a group of 
 objects associated together in virtue of certain resem- 
 blances, and giving rise, to generic ideas. 
 
 In teaching a child, we are constantly indicating 
 differences and distinctions as well as similarities and 
 resemblances. We teach him to group things together 
 in virtue of their general resemblances, and to distin- 
 guish within the group in virtue of particular differ- 
 ences. This buttercup is different from that daisy, but 
 both are flowers; this dog is different from that cat. but 
 both are animals ; Mabel is different from Lucy, but 
 both are girls ; and so on in a great number of cases. 
 This constant habit of comparing things begets a 
 tendency in a quick-witted child to be on the look- 
 out not only for resemblance, but also for contrast. 
 And as this habit becomes more and more established 
 with passing years and growing experience, there is 
 an increasing tendency for things to suggest not only 
 their likes but their opposites. To suggestion__by 
 resemblance is added suggestion Toy contrast. And 
 when such contrasts have been suggested, they become 
 associated by contiguity, and the subsequent suggestion 
 is thus reinforced. The language of description con- 
 stantly uses resemblance and contrast side by side, the 
 one to enforce the other. The wing of the penguin, 
 we say, is like the flipper of the seal, and very different 
 from the wing of a swift or a seagull. The sea looked 
 
ASSOCIATION 43 
 
 dull and gloomy, there was no life or brightness in the 
 scene. A is slow, sure, and industrious, and quite 
 unlike the brilliant but terribly idle Z. And so in 
 a number of other similar cases, which will readily 
 suggest themselves (by similarity). 
 
 When the child begins to perceive the relations of 
 objects to each other, and begins to dissociate qualities 
 from the things which, as we say, possess these qualities, 
 something more than mere resemblance is suggested, 
 namely, similarity of relationship. It might be well 
 to reserve the phrase suggestion by similarity for those 
 cases which involve a similarity of relations, employing 
 the phrase " suggestion by resemblance " for those 
 cases in which there is an obvious likeness of objects 
 of sense - experience to each other. Most cases of 
 suggestion by contrast involve contrast of relations. 
 And in those cases which were alluded to at the end 
 of the last paragraph, where similarity and contrast 
 are employed for descriptive or explanatory purposes, 
 it is the relationships which are of specially suggestive 
 import. 
 
 The language of the poet is full of suggestions by 
 resemblance, similarity, and contrast. I will illustrate 
 this by a few examples from Tennyson. Eesem- 
 blance prompts such lines as 
 
 "A brow 
 May-blossom, and a cheek of apple -blossom." 
 
 "And her hair 
 
 In gloss and hue the chestnut, when the shell 
 Divides threefold to show the fruit within." 
 
44 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 But it is similarity of relations which is suggest- 
 ive in 
 
 "A rosebud set with little wilful thorns, 
 And sweet as English air could make her." 
 
 "A laugh, 
 Ringing like proven golden coinage true." 
 
 There is more of similarity than resemblance in 
 
 Ringing like prove 
 So too in the question, 
 
 "Was he not 
 
 A full-cell'd honeycomb of eloquence, 
 Stored from all flowers ? " 
 
 The alternate cloud and sunshine of April suggest 
 the comparison of the lines, 
 
 " And hopes and light regrets that come, 
 Make April of her tender eyes." 
 
 A somewhat similar thought occurs again in 
 
 " So sweetly gleam'd her eyes behind her tears, 
 Like sunlight on the plain behind a shower." 
 
 One or two more examples of analogies drawn from 
 Nature must suffice. 
 
 "A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas." 
 
 This simile was no doubt suggested by the in- 
 stability of the equilibrium of an iceberg melting 
 in a warm current. The suggestiveness of flowers 
 was always great and varied for Tennyson. 
 
 " Wearing the white flower of a blameless life." 
 
 " Wait, and Love himself will bring 
 The drooping flower of knowledge changed to fruit 
 Of wisdom." 
 
ASSOCIATION 45 
 
 My last example of such suggestions by similarity 
 is a rather more complex one, in which an analogy is 
 drawn between the forging of metal and the forging of 
 character. It occurs in In Memoriam 
 
 * ' Life is not as idle ore, 
 But iron dug from central gloom, 
 
 And heated hot with burning fears, 
 
 And dipt in baths of hissing tears, 
 And batter'd with the shocks of doom 
 
 To shape and use." 
 
 By the man of science, as by the poet, suggestion 
 by similarity, with occasional illustrative contrast, is 
 constantly used in description and in explanation. 
 The moon, we say, is continually falling towards the 
 earth, as a stone falls towards the ground ; or, the 
 moon swings round the earth as a ball at the end of a 
 string swings round your hand. Just as the straight- 
 falling raindrops seem to be slanting to a man who is 
 driving rapidly in a dogcart, so do the rays of light 
 from distant stars seem to change their direction as 
 the earth whirls round in her orbital course. Just as 
 the artificial selection of the gardener tends to the 
 preservation of the strongest and most beautiful 
 plants, so does the destruction of the weakly and 
 imperfect, in the natural struggle for existence among 
 organisms, tend to the survival of the strongest and 
 healthiest. Just as, to give one more example, 
 pressure will squeeze ice into the condition of water, 
 because water expands on freezing, so will pressure 
 squeeze molten rock into the solid condition, because 
 molten rock contracts on solidifying. This last 
 
46 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 example shows how a fairly simple process of 
 reasoning is based on an insight into inverse 
 similarity of relations. 
 
 It may, I think, be fairly said that, while suggestion 
 directly due to association by contiguity is that which 
 chiefly determines the sequence of ideas in the lower 
 stages of mental development and during the earlier 
 months or years of child-life, and while suggestion by 
 resemblance follows thereon ; all the more subtle and 
 delicate sequence of ideas in our adult life is due to 
 suggestion through similarity or contrast. 
 
 We must now revert to association by contiguity 
 that we may take note of a qualifying clause in our 
 statement. If any two focal elements in conscious- 
 ness, c and Z, occur in successive moments of con- 
 sciousness as impressions, the subsequent recurrence of 
 c as impression or idea will tend, under similar mar- 
 ginal conditions, to suggest the recurrence of / as an 
 idea. The clause to which we have now to direct our 
 attention is that which is here italicised. In practical 
 experience c has not only become associated with Z, 
 but also with /, r y and y. This was described as 
 divergent association. The sound of the word " cat " 
 is associated with the visual image of the animal, the 
 visual image of the word, the pronunciation of the 
 word, the Writing of the word. The marginal condi- 
 tions of the moment determine which of the divergent 
 lines of association shall be followed. Under the 
 marginal conditions of repeating what the teacher 
 reads, the pronunciation of the word is suggested ; 
 
ASSOCIATION 47 
 
 under the marginal conditions of dictation, the writing 
 of the word ; under the marginal conditions of a walk 
 in the garden, the visual image of the animal will 
 probably be suggested. A great number of our words 
 have divergent associations ; and yet, when we meet 
 them in their proper places in the sentence, we are 
 seldom at fault in taking the particular suggestion 
 intended by the author. This is because the whole 
 sentence, and what has preceded it, creates the re- 
 quisite marginal conditions. If we say, " Sauntering 
 along the well-kept gravel walk, she admired the low, 
 neatly-trimmed edging of box," few will misunder- 
 stand us, though the word " box " is one with many 
 divergent associations. For young children, whose 
 experience is necessarily limited, most words have only 
 particular associations ; and this is one cause of their 
 apparent inattention. If the word " dog," for example, 
 is at once suggestive of Spot, the family fox-terrier, 
 directly that word occurs in the child's sentence, away 
 flies the little mind to the particular animal, and the 
 reading lesson becomes hazily marginal. We all of us 
 know how readily some chance expression of a speaker 
 or preacher may suggest something of particular inter- 
 est to us, and how our attention is thus diverted from 
 what he is saying. 
 
 The relation of the focal impression or idea to the 
 margin of consciousness gives rise to what is termed 
 simultaneous association, or the association through con- 
 tiguity of focus and margin. It is not, be it noted, an 
 association of impressions and ideas, as we have defined 
 
48 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 these terms, but an association of the impression or 
 idea with its marginal setting, or with some elements 
 therein. Thus, we chance to meet a man of striking 
 or peculiar appearance in the street. Subsequently 
 we meet him at dinner; and the sight of his face 
 suggests the marginal setting of the street scene in 
 which on the former occasion he was focal. Or we 
 are reading Tennyson in the open air, which is per- 
 fumed with the scent of gorse. Subsequently the 
 scent of gorse suggests some passage which we were 
 enjoying at the time. All that we have learnt con- 
 cerning the intimate relation of focus and margin in 
 the state of consciousness will help us to appreciate 
 the importance and the reality of this simultaneous 
 association. It is through this association that focus 
 and margin are so knit together that in the moment 
 
 of recall they are jointly re-presented in the new 
 
 
 
 marginal setting of that moment. 
 
 Furthermore, the relation of the focal impression or 
 idea to the margin of consciousness is or is a most im- 
 portant factor in what we term interest. The interest 
 may be a special one, arising out of what our minds are 
 occupied with at the time in question; or it may be 
 a general one, connected with our natural and habitual 
 mental bias. Attention Mlows the line of i 
 
 it is questionable whether we can attend, at any rate at 
 all continuously, to that which possesses forjj^_absoluteJy 
 no ito*estr~ Hence we must do our best to surround 
 with some sort of interest that drudgery which is 
 necessary for the establishment of useful associations. 
 
ASSOCIATION 49 
 
 It only remains, in concluding this chapter, to say 
 a few words on the art of recollecting. Both remem- 
 bering and recollecting are based on association. In 
 remembering, association suggests, without effort, that 
 of which we are thus reminded. But when we fail 
 to remember, we must try to recollect. And while 
 remembering is probably, as before stated, a natural 
 gift which can scarcely if at all be improved, the 
 art of recollecting is one which can be cultivated and 
 very greatly improved. For this purpose the fact 
 which we wish to recollect must be fitted in to some 
 system and associated in that system by several diver- 
 Went links. It must be somehow tacked on to our 
 interests. If once a fact be well incorporated in a 
 system which interests us, it has as good a chance of 
 being recollected as we can give it. Of course, the 
 more natural the system is, the better ; but any system 
 is better than none. The very fact of consciously and 
 of set purpose incorporating new facts in a system 
 necessitates dwelling on them and attending to them, 
 which facilitates their recollection at a future time. 
 It is well also to form association-links with as many 
 allied impressions as possible, such as sight, hearing, 
 pronunciation, and writing ; and to strengthen the 
 linkage by repetition at intervals. This may be illus- 
 trated by a simple and a more complex example. We 
 wish to fix in our memory where St. Alban's Head 
 is. To do so, we must fit it in to our system of 
 geographical knowledge. This bold headland lies 
 about midway between Swanage and Weymouth* We 
 
5 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 look it out in the map of Dorsetshire, and thus add a 
 visual impression to reinforce the auditory impression 
 and the motor impressions due to repeating the words. 
 We thus establish a number of systematic divergent 
 associations. In afterwards seeking to recollect, we 
 use these divergent lines as convergent upon St. 
 Alban's Head. It may be that we cannot recall 
 whereabouts it was on the coast -line. But the 
 thought of the map suggests Dorsetshire, and this gives 
 a visual image of the coast-line ; and Swanage-Wey- 
 mouth shoots across the mind. Again : We wish to 
 fix in memory that the tooth of a fish called Ceratodus 
 is found in a certain geological stratum at Aust Cliff. 
 We examine the tooth; pronounce, write, "and look at 
 the name " Ceratodus " ; think of its derivation (keras, 
 horn ; odos, tooth) ; consider its appropriateness ; 
 think of the zoological nature of the fish and its rela- 
 tion to a similar fish now found in Queensland ; look 
 out Aust on the map ; learn that the " old passage " of 
 the Severn was here ; get a geological section of the 
 beds in the cliff, and perceive the relation of the bone- 
 bed "in which it is found to the other beds ; and gener- 
 ally consider the geological relations" of the particular 
 stratum. In this way we wedge Ceratodus pretty 
 securely into our system of knowledge, and link ifc by 
 many lines of association with what we previously 
 knew. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 EXPERIENCE. 
 
 THE sequence of impressions in any series of moments 
 of consciousness is directly due to the sequence of 
 stimuli coming from external objects or from various 
 parts of our own bodily organs. When we are out 
 for a country walk, for example, the sights, sounds, 
 scents of nature give rise to a number of impressions, 
 while other impressions may be produced by the 
 movements of our limbs, our free and quickened 
 breathing, and the general glow of active life through- 
 out our bodily frames. If we consider, not only the 
 focal impressions, but the states of consciousness in 
 their entirety that is, including both focal and 
 marginal elements we find that the preaentativp 
 impressions, such as the sight of field or flower 
 or bird, the scent of the honeysuckle or the song 
 of the lark, are set in a presentative background 
 due to stimuli of the same kind as those which 
 give rise to impress$ions, but less prominent and 
 intense. The glow of healthy active life may 
 not be specially attended to so as to be focal to 
 consciousness ; but it none the less affects the states 
 
 51 
 
52 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 of consciousness of which it forms a subordinate 
 part. 
 
 On the other hand, when we have a sequence of 
 ideas sitting perhaps in the twilight and letting our 
 thoughts run their course without much interference 
 from the intrusion of impressions this sequence of 
 ideas is due to suggestion by contiguity or by similarity. 
 In the case of suggestion by contiguity the original 
 linkage was jme of direct sequence of impressions : 
 but though every link of the chain was thus forged in 
 presentative experience, the links are recombined in a 
 new way; ( so that w p fl -y Describe the reverie as a 
 new chain nf old links. But where suggestions by 
 similarity arise, these may be wholly new ; they are 
 part of our individuality, and give originality to our 
 thought. J A similarity may strike us which has struck 
 no one dse. This forms part of what is called imaging' 
 tion. And just as in a sequence of impressions there 
 is a background of presentative elements forming the 
 margin of the states of consciousness, so too in a 
 sequence of ideas there are a number of re-presentative 
 elements filling in the background. These are not 
 ideas, for they are not in the focus of consciousness ; 
 but they are of the same stuff of which ideas are 
 constituted. 
 
 Practically we seldom or never have a sequence 
 that is either altogether presentative or altogether 
 re-presentative. When we are out for the country 
 walk, there are not only impressions but also ideas 
 which they suggest ; and the impressions and ideas 
 
EXPERIENCE 53 
 
 * 
 
 follow each other in rapid sequence. The background, 
 too, is not wholly presentative, it has re-presentative 
 elements as well. In our twilight reverie we cannot 
 altogether exclude impressions, while in the back- 
 ground, or marginal region of consciousness, there are 
 sights, sounds, pressures, and presentative elements 
 furnished by the immediate condition of our bodies. 
 The states of consciousness are thus in either case very 
 complex ; and this cannot be too fully realised. When 
 we are dealing with impressions or ideas, we must 
 remember that we are, so to speak, plucking the eyes 
 out of our states of consciousness and examining them 
 separately. The natural position of the eye is in the 
 body. And the natural position of the impression or 
 the idea is in the body of the state of consciousness. 
 We analyse the state of consciousness, and thus reach 
 the impression or the idea as the result of our analysis. 
 We must not forget, however, that, as we actually 
 experience it, the impression or the idea is only part 
 of a state of consciousness. 
 
 Now, with regard to experience, the first thing that 
 is tolerably clear and obvious is that it is a matter of 
 im]3ressions and the directly presentative elements in 
 consciousness. For every sense - idea we must have 
 had direct experience of its corresponding sense - 
 impression ; for every motor idea, a motor impression ; 
 for every idea of relation, a basis in practical experi- 
 ence. It is true that the reach of our thought 
 exceeds the range of our experience ; it is true that, 
 through imagination, we recombine our experience in 
 
 /*& OF \ 
 
 (UNIVERSITY] 
 
54 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 new modes ; this does, however, but emphasise the 
 fact that the liBee itself is a matter of direct 
 acquaintance with what is immediately presented to 
 consciousness. Even our higher nights of thought and 
 imagination, if they have no basis in experience, are of 
 little worth. It is one of the aims of education to 
 furnish the conditions for the acquisition of a solid H 
 basis of experience. V The second point to be noticed i 
 is that the practical value of experience is to afford 
 the requisite data for the guidance of action and 
 conduct ; while one of the aims of action and conduct 
 is to extend and establish the experience already 
 gained. 
 
 Our bodies are so formed that we actively respond 
 to certain stimuli. A tickling of the feet causes the 
 withdrawal of the leg, a slight irritation of the delicate 
 membrane of the nose gives rise to a sneeze. If, when 
 a child a few months old is looking at your face, a 
 bright object appear in the marginal region of its field 
 of vision, the eyes are drawn away from your face to 
 make the bright object focal. Such active responses 
 to stimuli are called reflex actions. They are also 
 often spoken of as automatic, though the word is not 
 always used in this sense. The ability_to respond in 
 these ways is a portion of our natural inheritance, and 
 forms part of the first raw material of experience. 
 Automatism is thus the primary factor in our active 
 life. The secondary factor is control ; and this control 
 is rendered possible of practical application through 
 association and what is termed correlation. By 
 
EXPERIENCE 55 
 
 control is meant the conscious guidance of our actions X 
 in the light of previous experience. If, to take 
 an example previously given, the sight of steaming 
 porridge is associated with burning one's tongue, 
 control can be exercised over one's action in the future, 
 and unpleasant consequences may be avoided. In the 
 early months of life we are constantly making new 
 experiments in the putting forth of our inherited 
 powers of activity. We select the successful and 
 satisfactory modes of action for repetition, and hold in 
 check those which are unsuccessful or lead to un- 
 pleasant or painful results. 
 
 The growth of experience involves a continual cor- 
 relation of the data afforded ly sensation. By this 
 expression it is meant that the impressions and ideas 
 and the marginal data of the special senses, together 
 with those derived from the parts concerned in the 
 movements of our bodily organs, are brought into^such 
 relation to each other as to have suggestive value. If, 
 when a child is gazing about here and there, a sweet 
 is brought within his range of vision, so soon as it 
 falls within the margin of the visual field, the eyes are 
 so moved as to bring it to the focus of vision ; the hand 
 is then stretched out to touch and seize it, and it is 
 conveyed to the mouth. This involves a correlation of 
 the data afforded by the special senses, sight, touch, 
 and taste ; and a further correlation of these with the 
 sensory data afforded by the movements of the eyes, 
 the hand and arm, and the mouth. The stimulus in 
 the margin of the visual field leads to the movements of 
 
56 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 the eyes necessary to render the sweet focal in vision ; 
 the impression so produced suggests the ideas of the 
 movements of hand and arm which will enable the 
 child to grasp the sweet; ideas of taste are at the 
 same time suggested; and these ideas of movement 
 and of taste are followed by their corresponding im- 
 pressions as the actions are carried out and the sweet 
 taken into the mouth. 
 
 When we are regarding the matter from the point 
 of view of the acquisition and organising of experience, 
 we speak of the correlation of the data afforded by the 
 special senses among each other, and with those due 
 to movements. But when we regard the matter from 
 the point of view of the putting forth of the activities, 
 we speak of the co-ordination of these activities. All 
 matters of skill in the use of our bodily organs involve 
 this co-ordination. A very great number of muscles 
 are concerned in what we are wont to regard as com- 
 paratively simple activities, such as walking or speak- 
 ing. All these muscles have to be called into play in 
 due degree and with nicely balanced activity. We 
 are not, however, conscious of the details of this pro- 
 cess, which is, in fact, a physiological one. What we 
 are conscious of is the net result of the process. 
 We are conscious, that is to say, of the activity as a 
 [whole, not of the individual play of all the muscles 
 Which bring about the activity. And the method of 
 acquiring skill in the co-ordination of activities is that 
 of trial and error; the selecting of the successful 
 results for repetition, and the checking of the unsuc- 
 
EXPERIENCE 5 7 
 
 cessful results. This is clearly a matter of control. 
 Indeed, we may say that control is primarily exercised 
 i over our bodily activities in the guidance of our life of 
 -free movement. Nice and accurate co-ordination is 
 the outcome of nice and accurate correlation of the 
 data afforded by experience. 
 
 Let us now take one or two more examples of 
 \correlation. Suppose that we were blind and deaf; 
 then, so far as our active life was concerned, we should 
 be almost entirely limited to a correlation of the data 
 afforded by touch and pressure among themselves, and 
 with the data afforded to consciousness by the move- 
 ments of our limbs. As we felt our way about the 
 world, touches or pressures in various parts of our 
 bodies would be correctly localised, and associations 
 would be formed between such experiences and the 
 movements of our limbs. The hands, and especially 
 the finger tips, are the central organs of touch. If, as 
 we felt about the table, something came in contact 
 with our arm, we should at once bring the hand 
 and fingers to bear upon it, that we might feel out 
 what it was ; as indeed we all do when we are feeling 
 for something in the dark. Thus we should organise 
 what is called a field of touch. 
 
 Now, suppose that to the sense of touch we add the 
 sense of sight. This enables us to feel about us, so to 
 speak, in a wider field. First of all, there is a corre- 
 lation between visual data and the sensations of move- 
 ment in the eyes. The field of vision becomes most 
 delicately and accurately organised, so that, if any 
 
58 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 visual object appears in the margin of that field, we 
 can at once move the eyes in such a way as to make 
 the object focal. And this involves, not merely com- 
 mon movements of the two eyes in their sockets, but 
 movements of convergence of the two eyes, and move- 
 ments inside the eyes, which are necessary for the 
 accommodation of vision to various distances. Hold a 
 pencil-point about ten inches from the eyes, and alter- 
 nately fix them upon this point and on some distant 
 point on the wall or out of doors. You will feel the 
 movements of convergence and accommodation as you 
 pass from one to the other. ( The visual experience of 
 seeing an object at a given distance is due to a com- 
 bination of visual sensations and motor sensations in 
 the eyes and their sockets.' { Such an intimate coal- 
 escence of diverse sensations to produce an impression 
 is a good example of what is termed mental synthesis. 
 The product of the synthesis which is a natural and 
 involuntary process, not one that is intentional and 
 voluntary has not, for practical experience, any refer- 
 ence to motor sensations. The motor sensations of 
 convergence and accommodation are not recognised as 
 such, but make us aware that the object of vision is 
 situated out there at a certain distance from us. And 
 so completely do these motor sensations coalesce with 
 the visual sensations in the impression, that very few of 
 us are acquainted with the fact that the sense of distance 
 in vision is d^ te Tnotor elements in consciousness. 
 
 The distance element in vision is, however, corre- 
 lated with other motor elements. The child who sees 
 
EXPERIENCE 59 
 
 a sweet on the table before him, reaches out his hand 
 to take it up. Visual distance at once suggests dis- 
 tance for touch. And if the object is farther off, so 
 that he has to go to it in order to reach it, visual 
 distance is correlated with distance for locomotion. 
 , Thus the field of vision and the fields of touch and of 
 (free movement are correlated. Furthermore, as we 
 stretch out our hand to seize an object within our 
 reach, we see it cross the field of vision ; and a corre- 
 lation is established between the movements of our 
 limbs, as seen, and the same movements, as given in 
 motor sensation. Again, if we fix our eyes upon some 
 object and then move our hand in front of our face, 
 still keeping the eyes fixed, we see the hand cross the 
 field of vision from margin to margin ; and if then, 
 releasing our eyes from the object on which they have 
 been fixed, we allow them to follow the movements of 
 the hand, we experience a series of motor sensations 
 as the eyes follow the hand. In the one case the 
 movement is a change of the position of an object in 
 the field of vision ; in the other case it is a change of 
 position in the organs of vision. Or, take another ex- 
 ample. As I write, the rooks are returning to their nests 
 and flying westwards past my window. I fix my eyes 
 on the corner of the opposite house, and rook after rook 
 enters and crosses the margin of my visual field. My 
 eyes remain fixed all the time. But now I fix my 
 eyes upon a certain rook and follow him across the 
 sky, keeping him steadily in focus. As I do so, the 
 house and trees opposite and the clouds in the sky 
 
60 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 seem to drift across my visual field as my eyes move, 
 following the bird. Thus, when my eyes are fixed 
 there is a real movement of the external object, the 
 rook, across the field of vision ; and when my eyes 
 follow the rook there is (1) a real movement of the 
 eyes, and (2) an apparent movement of the fixed objects 
 round me, the house, trees, and clouds. All these 
 changes in the field of vision and movements of the eyes 
 have to be correlated. When our bodies as a whole are 
 also in movement, further correlations are necessary. 
 These are soon completely established for our ordinary 
 movements of walking and running ; but for unusual 
 movements the correlation is often imperfect. I 
 travelled in the train a short time ago with a child who 
 was making her first railway journey. " What makes 
 all the things move so fast ? " she said to her mother. 
 "Besides the correlations we have been considering, 
 there are further correlations of the data afforded by 
 sight, touch, and movements of eyes and limbs, with 
 the data afforded by the sense of hearing, the sense of 
 smell, our temperature senses, and that sense of 
 direction to which allusion was made in considering 
 the impressions of sense. Smell is correlated with 
 taste ; and such visual effects as that produced by 
 steaming porridge are correlated with the effects of 
 eating it too hastily. All these correlations in the 
 special fields of touch, sight, hearing, smell, both in 
 each field severally and of the fields each with the 
 other, gradually coalesce and become organised into 
 what we may term the general field of experience. 
 
EXPERIENCE 6 1 
 
 It is probably difficult for us to realise what a 
 chaotic muddle of sensations there must be in the 
 infant's mind during the early weeks and months of 
 its life. The exact steps and stages of the correlation 
 in the child-mind we shall probably never know with 
 anything like certainty. Few of us remember any- 
 thing which occurred to us before we were about two 
 years old, and by that time the field of experience is 
 pretty well organised, and all the simpler correlations 
 have been established. There are good grounds for 
 believing that each individual has to establish all the 
 correlations for himself. They are not inherited, but 
 must be acquired. Co-ordinatiojas of motor activity 
 are inherited ; but the correlations of sensory data 
 are probably, I repeat, not inherited, but have to be 
 individually acquired. And there is but little that 
 we can do in the way of direct teaching to aid the 
 infant and child in the acquisition of this elementary 
 but most important experience. All that we can do is to 
 afford to him the best and most convenient opportun- 
 ities and conditions for the work of self -development. _ 
 
 It will perhaps have been noticed that I have 
 constantly spoken of the correlation of sensory data, 
 and not of the correlation of impressions and ideas. 
 I have done so because a good deal of the correlation 
 takes place in the margin of consciousness, and is not 
 by any means confined to the focal region, which is the 
 special seat of impressions and ideas. Indeed, it is 
 somewhat remarkable that very much of the correla- 
 tion is established subconsciously. Probably only a 
 
62 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 very small proportion of the correlations which become 
 so well organised in the growing experience of the 
 child have been formed intentionally. The infant 
 does not apply itself to the task of correlating the 
 sensory data which are hour by hour and day by day 
 accumulating. The organisation of .experience is a 
 process of natural growth, like that of the plant, which 
 puts forth its shoots, leaves, and buds, and develops 
 into a beautifully symmetrical tree ; or like that of the 
 child's own body, in which the limbs and all the 
 organs develop in due relation to each other. While, 
 therefore, it is probably true that, as was stated in 
 the last paragraph, the correlations of sensory data 
 are not inherited, but have to be individually acquired, 
 it is none the less true that it is part of the inherent 
 and inherited tendencies of our mental nature to 
 form such correlations if the necessary data are duly 
 supplied. There is no evidence that this, that, or the 
 other correlation is inherited ; but it is unquestionably 
 true that the faculty for correlation is an inalienable 
 mental possession. The sensory data of experience 
 are the food of the mind ; each individual has to find 
 or to be supplied with his own food ; but the power 
 of dealing with the food, so as to build with it an 
 organised and correlated body of experience that is 
 part of our dower as human beings. 
 
 A great deal of this organising and correlation is 
 carried on subconsciously in what I ^ve termed the 
 margin of consciousness. The correlation, indeed, 
 affects the whole field of consciousness, and is in no 
 
EXPERIENCE 63 
 
 small degree a matter of the relation of focus to 
 margin, and of marginal elements among themselves. 
 Many simultaneous effects in consciousness of changes 
 in the visual field, movements of the eyes, and move- 
 ments of the hand, are duly correlated when the child 
 reaches forth its hand to seize a sweet. 
 
 We have seen that the co-ordination of motor 
 activities is founded on innate and inherited auto- 
 matism, but that it is brought under control in 
 accordance with the data afforded by association and 
 correlation, and is guided to desired ends in the light 
 of past experience. The guidance and control are an t 
 expression of the individual will. Experience tells us' 
 that certain states of consciousness, or certain elements t 
 in consciousness, are pleasurable, agreeable, or in 
 harmony with our mental nature ; while others are 
 painful, disagreeable, or discordant with our mental 
 nature. We seek the repetition of the former; we 
 shun or avoid the repetition of the latter. And this 
 seeking or shunning is rendered possible through 
 correlation, which has brought our activities into close ^ 
 touch with our sensory experience. Without such 
 correlation the exercise of the will would, it is evident, 
 be inoperative. As it is, through the correlations 
 which have been established, control through the 
 application of the will can be exercised over those 
 particular activities which are immediately concerned 
 1 in\ reaching or ^oiding pleasant or disagreeable 
 results. But here again we must notice that the 
 activities themselves over which control is exercised 
 
64 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 do not, as a rule, occupy the focus of consciousness at 
 the moment of control; it is rather the end to be 
 gained, or the result to be avoided, to which we 
 attend. When the child stretches forth his hand to 
 seize the sweet, it is the sweet itself which is in the 
 focus of consciousness ; the means by which it is to be 
 obtained is of merely subconscious value. When the 
 child whose tongue has been burnt with porridge 
 holds in check the action of putting the spoon to his 
 mouth, it is the avoidance of scalding his lips that is 
 focal to consciousness. And yet in both these cases 
 the control is really exercised over the motor activities 
 concerned. This does but enforce that which has 
 before been pointed out, namely, that we must deal 
 with states of consciousness as wholes, and not merely 
 pay attention to their focal elements. For we saw 
 that, unless we take into consideration the marginal 
 elements in consciousness, we cannot say why one 
 rather than another of several divergent associations 
 is suggested by such a word as " box " when it occurs 
 in a sentence. 
 
 It is, however, undoubtedly a fact that many things 
 which in the first instance require the application of 
 our focal attention, come with practice to be performed 
 subconsciously. Take, for example, the case of sing- 
 ing. The child has at first to attend carefully to the 
 way in which a certain note has to be produced by 
 the voice, and to the changes which are necessary in 
 order to sing the intervals in a simple tune. But 
 after a while the tune can be hummed while the 
 
i W -i* A vjuaxojLO. i r 
 
 JE 65 
 
 EXPERIENCE 
 
 mind is occupied with quite different matters. Ami 
 yet even here it is the effect of the motor activities 
 on which the attention is fixed rather than on the 
 motor activities themselves. The child hardly knows, 
 if he knows at all, that it is on the movements of 
 the larynx that his efforts to control the voice are 
 exercised. Or, take the case of a boy learning to ride 
 a bicycle. It requires, in the early stages of the pro- 
 cess, all his attention to guide the machine and 
 prevent a fall ; after a while, however, he can spin 
 along, talking to or listening to his companion, and 
 paying no special attention to the machine, which he 
 is all the while guiding skilfully. But here again it 
 is rather the effects of the movements of his hands 
 and arms than the movements themselves, on which 
 his attention is fixed while he is acquiring the 
 necessary skill. 
 
 The lad talking to his companion as he spins along 
 on his bicycle, affords indeed a good example of corre- 
 lation. The conversation involves the correlation of 
 the field of hearing, within which both his own and 
 his companion's words fall, with that field of motor 
 effort which we may term the field of speech. At the 
 same time, the field of vision and certain data afforded 
 thereby, such as occasional stones on the road, are 
 correlated with the field of muscular effort involved 
 in riding the machine ; and within this latter field 
 there is a constant correlation between the incoming 
 sensory data from legs and arms whose diverse work 
 must co-operate to attain a common end. All this 
 5 
 
66 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 correlation is effected simultaneously, and yet in the 
 
 midst of it all the boy is not insensible to the view, 
 
 has a dim sense of a healthy and growing appetite, and 
 
 perhaps has a lurking notion, somewhere at the back 
 
 of his mind, that instead of enjoying this ride he 
 
 ought to be working at his verse-task. If all this 
 
 is not, strictly speaking, simultaneously present to 
 
 consciousness and much of it does undoubtedly co- 
 
 . exist at the same moment it is none the less rolling 
 
 \ through the mind with a complexity which is rendered 
 
 1 orderly only through correlation. 
 
 In the common phraseology of ordinary conversa- 
 tion, we should perhaps speak of the guiding of the 
 machine under such circumstances as performed auto- 
 matically. It is clear, however, that such automatism 
 is not quite the same as that to which allusion has 
 already been made. The automatism we then spoke 
 of was an innate and inherited co-ordination of motor 
 responses, like that which enables a baby to perform 
 the very complex operation of sneezing. It is quite 
 certain that we do not inherit an automatic co-ordina- 
 tion of the motor activities involved in riding a bicycle. 
 When we speak of the exercise of skill in this matter, 
 or in any such cases, as automatic, we mean that the 
 
 I constant guidance and control which was requisite at 
 first is no longer necessary. Practice has made 
 perfect, and the management of the machine is so 
 much a matter of habit that it can be performed, if 
 not unconsciously, at any rate quite subconsciously. 
 This automatism, which is the result of practice and 
 
EXPERIENCE 6 7 
 
 habitual performance, is called secondary 
 It is obviously a great advantage for the conduct of 
 our life's activities that we should thus be able to 
 establish co-ordinations which are secondarily auto- 
 matic, the due performance of which may be left with 
 perfect confidence to the margin of our consciousness 
 while our focal attention is otherwise occupied. 
 
 We must not fail to remember, however, that complex 
 correlations, which are to us so natural that we never 
 trouble our heads about them, are for the little child 
 matters the difficulties of which have not yet been 
 overcome; and that complex co-ordinations which have, 
 for us, passed so completely into the secondarily auto- 
 matic class that they may be left for subconsciousness 
 to afford the little guidance that is necessary, still 
 require for the child the practice which will eventually 
 render perfect. Hence it is of some importance that 
 the teacher of young children should understand the 
 conditions of mental development, in order that she 
 may so far enter into the nature of the child -mind as 
 to appreciate and make due allowances for difficulties 
 due to its immaturity. " Put yourself in his place," is 
 a good motto, but it is not easy of application in the 
 education of little children. 
 
 Now, a great deal of early education is concerned 
 with the imparting of skill. And I think it is no 
 exaggeration to say that, so far as this is concerned,; 
 an ounce of demonstration is worth many pounds or 
 description. We build here upon the natural faculty 
 of imitation. We must show the child how a skilled 
 
68 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 action is to be performed, and get him to imitate what 
 we do. Fortunately, children are for the most part very 
 observant and very ready to imitate. It is surprising 
 what rapid progress they often make in the acquisition 
 of skill. 
 
 And I think it is difficult to exaggerate the im- 
 portance of a varied training in skill. It is indeed, in 
 my opinion, of primary importance in the early stages 
 of education and for some time onwards. Nor should 
 it at any time during the preparatory years of life be 
 neglected. Involving as it does the constant correla- 
 tion of the data of sense, and the nice co-ordination of 
 motor activities ; essentially practical and in close 
 touch with real things ; fostering habits alike of close 
 observation and of accuracy of performance; based 
 upon an elementary exercise of the will in the 
 guidance of action ; necessitating the steady applica- 
 tion of means to a definite end in view ; lending 
 itself admirably to an elementary appreciation of 
 beauty, and fostering a desire for its attainment ; 
 on alMjiese grounds ji jtraining. in_ skill should^ form 
 a prominent feature in our educational system. 
 
 For the training of the finger muscles, Slojd, draw- 
 ing, and the playing of a musical instrument best of 
 all, if there is a, good ear for music, the violin are 
 admirable. The wider and more varied the training, 
 the better ; for our object is to give to the fingers 
 a skill which may eventually be applied to anything, 
 from tying a knot or a white tie or sewing on a 
 button, to the most delicate touches of art on the one 
 
EXPERIENCE 69 
 
 hand to the equally delicate touches of scientific 
 manipulation on the other. Whenever I find a 
 student who displays unusual delicacy of dissection 
 in comparative anatomy, I inquire how he or she 
 has trained the finger muscles so as to have them so 
 well under control. Often I receive for answer, that 
 they have not been specially trained in any way. 
 But, on further inquiry, I nearly always get such 
 answers as, " Oh yes, I'm fond of drawing just 
 sketching things that strike me, without any know- 
 ledge of the subject " ; or, " Well, I've always been 
 rather given to carving boats, and the knobs of sticks, 
 and odd things, but I never learned to do so." No 
 doubt such answers indicate a natural gift which has 
 found expression in these ways ; no doubt there may 
 be some whose fingers are by nature " all thumbs " ; 
 but I believe, if these " thumbs " are only trained at a 
 sufficiently early and plastic stage of development, 
 they will, in nine cases out of ten, turn out to be 
 very respectable fingers. 
 
 Nor must we despise the value of this delicacy of 
 skill in its application to much that is highest in 
 human endeavour. In many departments both of 
 art and science, skill is essential as the medium of 
 expression of that which takes form in the mind of the 
 artist or man of science. In painting, technique may 
 be inferior in worth to inspiration ; but of what value 
 to mankind is the inspiration of the painter if his skill 
 in technique is inadequate to embody his ideal ? 
 What do we not owe to the marvellous interpretative 
 
70 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 skill of such a pianist as Paderewski ? How much 
 of the value of anatomy and surgery to man would 
 remain if we failed to include the marvellous skill in 
 their application which characterises a great operator ? 
 Of physical science it is scarcely too much to say 
 that it owes its present position to the application of 
 skill to the making of delicate apparatus and the 
 execution of experiments of extreme nicety. Skill in 
 the manufacture and skill in the use of the microscope 
 have done much to make biology what it now is. In 
 a word, skill is the faithful and unwearied handmaiden 
 which ministers both to science and to art. 
 
 For the training of the larger, coarser body muscles, 
 Swedish drill, the gymnasium, dancing, and games are 
 of the utmost value. What our national games have 
 done for the English race it is difficult to overestimate. 
 They train us to use our bodies in the most efficient 
 manner, and to expend our energies to the best 
 advantage. It is impossible to watch the organised 
 games, musical drill, and other exercises of the kinder- 
 garten, without being impressed with the value of the 
 training in what may be termed social co-ordination. 
 An old soldier standing by my side on such an occa- 
 sion said to me, " That's the training for our future 
 soldiers and sailors." A good football team, a good 
 eleven, a good eight, work together for a common aim, 
 and learn to combine their skill with due co-ordination 
 and due subordination. The playing - fields are the 
 finest school of organised co-operation in the world. 
 
 In all these matters of skill what is learnt is 
 
EXPERIENCE 7 1 
 
 essentially real and practical. They depend on direct 
 experience ; second-hand information is of little or no 
 value. We have here a form of education which is in 
 close touch with the realities of that with which it 
 deals. I have heard intellectual people speak of it as 
 " mere physical training." But I am anxious that it 
 should be quite clearly understood that this "mere 
 physical training " involves a training in mental 
 qualities which are, whatever may be the position 
 assigned to them in the mental hierarchy, of an 
 eminently serviceable character. Quickness and sure- 
 ness of eye, swiftness and accuracy of response, are 
 qualities which are mental as well as physical, and 
 which enable a man to deal successfully with many 
 of the practical difficulties of life ; while the habit of 
 working with his companions for a common object, 
 and contending with others in friendly contest, gives 
 him a practical knowledge of character and a power of 
 dealing with his fellow-men which are invaluable. 
 
 Let me now say a few words in brief summary of 
 what we have so far learnt. We have grasped, I trust, 
 that a state of consciousness, regarded as a whole, is 
 by no means simple, but is made up of a number of 
 physical elements which co-exist together and are of 
 various degrees of intensity. These elements are 
 either presentative, that is to say, directly due to 
 stimuli from without or from parts of our bodies, or 
 re-presentative, that is to say, reproductions of the 
 presentative elements. The most prominent or focal 
 
72 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 of these elements are what we termed impressions 
 when they are presentative, and ideas when they are 
 re-presentative. Ideas are suggested to the mind in 
 virtue of association by contiguity, or through resem- 
 blance and similarity. But in any case the impression, 
 or the idea, which is in the focus of consciousness, does 
 not stand alone. It is set in a background of marginal 
 elements of both the presentative and the re-presentative 
 order. Only by neglecting this background, for the 
 purposes of our study, can we consider impressions or 
 ideas by themselves. For the purposes of our study, 
 that is to say, we isolate the impressions and ideas, 
 and distinguish them from their natural margin. But 
 in practical experience the margin is always exercising 
 a subtle but none the less important influence on 
 the focus. Hence the actual sequence of our ideas 
 is in part due to suggestion through association or 
 similarity, and in part due to the influence of the 
 margin. In other words, the idea which is focal in 
 any state of consciousness is a product of the pre- 
 ceding state of consciousness as a whole, focus and 
 margin contributing to the effect. 
 
 As a great number of sensory data are constantly 
 pouring in upon the mind, partly from the special 
 senses, partly from the organs of our bodies which are 
 concerned in motor activity, it is necessary that they 
 should be brought into relation to each other and 
 duly marshalled and organised. This is the work of 
 practical experience, and is termed correlation. It 
 affects the whole field of consciousness, and is largely 
 
EXPERIENCE 73 
 
 a matter which concerns the marginal region. It is, 
 however, also, in an important degree, a bringing of 
 the focus and the margin into due relation to each 
 other, so that this subconscious margin becomes sub- 
 ordinate and ministrant to the more imperious affairs 
 of the focus. 
 
 If, instead of considering the development from 
 the point of view of experience and the correlation of 
 sensory data, we regard it from the standpoint of the 
 organisation and perfecting of the bodily activities, we 
 speak of co-ordination. We come into the world with 
 bodies the organs of which are already automatically 
 performing co-ordinated activities (as in the case of 
 the heart and breathing apparatus), or are ready to 
 perform them automatically on the application of the 
 appropriate stimulus (sneezing, sucking). It is part 
 of the business of development to bring the activities 
 under fuller and fuller guidance and control, thus 
 1 organising in the light of experience the raw materials 
 \of co -ordination^ which we inherit. Q But when the 
 guidance is consl^itly and steadily exercised in certain 
 directions, habits of action are established ; fully con- 
 scious guidance may then be withdrawn, and the activities 
 left to subconscious guidance in the margin of conscious- 
 ness. The activities become secondarily automatic. 
 
 A very important part of our education is, as we 
 have seen, concerned with the correlation of sensory 
 data and the co-ordination of motor activities. We 
 may call this education in the matter of practical 
 experience. % 
 
CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 PERCEPTION. 
 
 THE process of correlation considered in the last chap- 
 ter involves the bringing into relation, for the practical 
 purposes of daily life, of the diverse data afforded by 
 the several special senses, together with those afforded 
 by the organs which are concerned in bodily move- 
 ment and activity. Now this process, though it is 
 certainly accompanied by consciousness, is not a volun- 
 tary one. It is not one performed with the end and 
 object of correlation consciously in view. The rela- 
 tions, as such, do not come into focus at all. We 
 utilise the correlations, but we do not attend to them. 
 The correlations themselves would seem indeed to be 
 throughout subconscious, our attention being fixed on 
 their effects or their net results. In illustration of 
 this, I would again adduce the case of the control of 
 the voice in singing. For the attainment of this end, 
 certain auditory data have to be correlated with the 
 data afforded by the larynx and the parts of the 
 mouth. And yet few of us are aware, while some 
 might even deny, that such correlations are necessary. 
 So too, in pronouncing our commonest words. Pro- 
 
 74 
 
PERCEPTION 75 
 
 bably not many of my readers could state, without 
 first making special observations directed to that 
 end, the co-ordinations which are necessary for the 
 pronunciation of the words " fall out." Try to do 
 so yourself. This will lead you to pay attention to 
 them, to note the movements of the mouth organs, 
 the modifications of respiration. All of these have 
 to be nicely adjusted through the correlation of the 
 sensory data from the various organs concerned. 
 When we are learning to speak or to sing, we pro- 
 ceed on the method of imitation, of trial and error. 
 A particular sound has to be produced. We try, 
 and fail ; try again, and are less unsuccessful ; try 
 yet again, and at length succeed. The nature of the 
 correlations involved in attaining this success does 
 not enter the field of focal and distinct conscious- 
 ness. We are concerned with the effects produced, 
 not with the means of producing them. 
 
 To do a thing, and to know how you do it, are 
 \two very different things. Ask a boy how he 
 manages that clever back-stroke at lawn-tennis. 
 He cannot tell you ; he does not know. He has 
 no idea how he learnt to do it. He supposes it 
 is practice. But he will show you how he does it 
 with much pride and pleasure. The feat of skill 
 requires a wonderfully nice and accurate co-ordina- 
 tion of activities, involving I know not how many 
 muscles in various parts of the body : the sensations 
 which accompany this co-ordination are correlated, 
 and afford the data requisite for the maintenance 
 
76 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 of control over the activities in question. But what 
 the co-ordinations are, the boy does not know, and 
 probably does not care. They have been established 
 subconsciously and are utilised subconsciously ; and 
 knowledge is a matter not of subconscious effects, 
 but of that which is focal and definite to conscious- 
 ness. It may perhaps be said that the correlations 
 requisite for the performance of a feat of skill are 
 not subconscious, but are unconscious ; that the whole 
 (matter is one of mere bodily mechanism, and not 
 psychological at all. Two replies may be given to 
 such an assertion : a general reply and a special 
 reply. The general reply is, that in so far as the 
 skilled activity is a feat performed under guidance 
 and control, the requisite data for such guidance 
 must have been present to consciousness. It can 
 hardly be maintained that the boy who makes the 
 clever backhand stroke at lawn-tennis is a mere 
 automaton ; his feat is the result of experience 
 gained by frequent practice ; and unconscious ex- 
 perience is a contradiction in terms. The special 
 reply is that, if you attend to the matter, you will 
 be able to a large extent to make the subconscious 
 correlations focal to consciousness. Then you will 
 be able not only to perform the feat of skill, but 
 to know, and to some extent to describe, how you 
 do it. 
 
 When, in this way, we pay special attention to 
 the details of the way in which our minds act, we 
 are exercising introspection. Introspection is looking 
 
PEKCEPTION 77 
 
 within at the workings of our own consciousness. 
 It is absolutely necessary in psychology. I would 
 beg my readers to exercise themselves in the art 
 of introspection, and to observe narrowly the sensory 
 data that accompany the performance of skilled 
 activities. It may not be easy at first. Not im- 
 probably it is a new field of observation and in- 
 vestigation. But it is an interesting field, and for 
 the teacher one that is worthy of thorough and 
 careful survey. And fortunately it is one that is 
 always close at hand. The student of other branches 
 of scientific investigation has to seek and collect the 
 materials for his study. The psychologist carries with 
 him his material wherever he goes. 
 
 Such introspection soon makes us acquainted with 
 the distinction between the subjective and the ob- 
 jective aspect of experience. The distinction is 
 rather a difficult one to grasp quite clearly and 
 distinctly ; but it is worth while to take some trouble 
 to make oneself familiar with these two ways of 
 dealing with states of consciousness. And here let 
 me say that in no study is it more essential to check 
 by a direct appeal to your own experience all the 
 statements which you are asked to accept, than it 
 is in psychology. You have jdways your own exper-i- 
 ence at hand for purposes of thus cbeo^ing wha.t jp 
 asserted. But remember that, if you are unable to 
 endorse the statement, this may be due, either to 
 the fact that thestatement is_erroneous, or to the 
 fact that you are still inexperienced in introspection. 
 
78 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 In either case put some mark opposite the statement, 
 and endeavour again and again to check it by an 
 appeal to your own experience. Do not accept it 
 unless self -observation convinces you of its truth; 
 but do not reject it until you are quite sure that your 
 own experience not only does not support it, but 
 actually contradicts it. 
 
 Let us now try and get at the meaning of these 
 terms, objective and subjective. Looking up from my 
 page, I see, against the blue background of the summer 
 sky, the swifts wheeling in their flight. That is a 
 bit of practical experience. In its objective aspect 
 there are the birds at a certain distance from me, 
 moving across the sky. N"o doubt it is I who am 
 observing them ; but I take that fact for granted. 
 And it is with this objective aspect that we are 
 usually concerned injthe ordinary^course of our daily^ 
 life. But now let us turn to the other or sui^ective 
 aspect. I, the observer, am experiencing certain 
 sensations, which somehow combine together to give 
 rise to what I describe as a swift in motion out there 
 in the sky. If I consider the bird in its flight, I am 
 considering the objective aspect; if I consider my 
 own impressions and states of consciousness, I am con- 
 sidering the subjective aspect. It requires no intro- 
 spl&teon to see' the swifts wheeling in the summer 
 sky, but I have to loot within to get at the sub- 
 jective aspect of the experience. 
 
 Note that what we have done here is to analyse 
 the bit of practical experience. The subjective and 
 
PERCEPTION 79 
 
 the objective are the different aspects of the same 
 of experience ; and it is only in analysis that we dis- 
 tinguish the one from the other. The little child and 
 the farmer's lad do not trouble themselves about the 
 analysis, and probably know nothing of object and 
 subject. And yet the words they use when they say, 
 " I see a swift," imply the analysis into the subject 
 " I " and the object " swift." But they also imply 
 that both are co-operating at the moment of experi- 
 ence. If the swift were not there, I should not see 
 it; nor should I see it, if I were not there. The 
 swift and I, object and subject, must conspire to give 
 rise to the bit of experience. What we habitually 
 1 do is to pay attention to the objective aspect and take 
 \) the subjective aspect for granted. It is the aim of 
 psychology, however, to direct special attention to 
 the subjective aspect and to learn all that we can 
 about it. 
 
 Two remarks may here be made before we pass on. 
 First, Distinguish carefully between the subject as 
 used in psychology, and the subject as used in parsing 
 and the analysis of sentences. The subject in psychology 
 \is that which experiences: the object is that which is ex- 
 jperienced. Secondly, Extend your idea of the object 
 from the swift, which has been taken as a particular 
 example, to anything which may be experienced. *fiie 
 swift is an object of sight, my pen an object of touch, 
 the movement of my fingers an object of motor sensa- 
 tion, and a vast number of things objects of sense- 
 experience. But a difficult problem may be an object 
 
80 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 of thought, virtue an object of desire, rny father an 
 object of reverence ; and in like manner we may have 
 objects of all the^aodes_and varieties of human__x- 
 perience. Hitherto we have chiefly dealt with sense- 
 experience ; but we shall have to learn that experience 
 includes far more than the domain of sense. 
 
 We will now proceed to consider certain objects of 
 perception. First, we must inquire what is percep- 
 tion. What do we mean by perceiving ? What is 
 it that we perceive ? The word " perceive " is often 
 used in ordinary conversation in several somewhat 
 different senses. In psychology it is employed as a 
 technical term that is to say, as a term that is 
 used with a special meaning. But, unfortunately, all 
 psychologists do not employ it in quite the same sense. 
 [ I shall use it for that mode of experience by which we 
 I become acquainted with relations. We perceive rela- 
 tions ; or, otherwise put, relations are the objects of 
 perception. 
 
 What, then, are relations ? I see yonder swift in 
 the sky ; and I perceive its distance from the ground. 
 I see, too, a martin ; and perceive that it is a smaller 
 bird than the swift. In these sentences it should be 
 noted that I am using the word " to see " in a general 
 and not in a technical sense ; and in this sense it 
 is not necessarily antithetical to perception. What 
 perception does, indeed, is to single out a particular 
 element in the act of seeing. We may see the bird 
 set in a background of many relations ; perception 
 singles out one of these and focusses it definitely. 
 
PERCEPTION 8 1 
 
 Again, I taste a couple of strawberries ; and I perceive 
 that the one is sweeter than the other. I hear two 
 notes struck on the piano ; and I perceive that the 
 interval between them is a major third. I see a 
 butterfly ; and perceive that it has lost a portion of 
 one wing. Observe that in all these cases we have 
 two impressions, or an impression and an idea ; and 
 what is perceived is the relation of one to the other : 
 of the swift to the martin ; of the one strawberry to 
 the other ; of the one note to that which preceded it ; 
 of the maimed butterfly to the generic idea of the 
 perfect insect. Observe, too, that what we focus our 
 attention on in the act of perception is not the related 
 impressions, but the relation which they bear to each 
 other. We focus our attention first on the swift, next 
 on the martin, and then on the size-relation of the one 
 to the other ; first on the one note, next on the other 
 note, and then on their relation in the musical scale. 
 
 In speaking of the relative sizes of two birds, the 
 relative sweetness of two strawberries, and the relative 
 pitch of two notes, I have been drawing your attention 
 to the objective aspect of the act of perceiving. } The 
 relative size, the relative sweetness, the relative^pifch. 
 are the objects of perception. And what about the 
 subjective aspect? What do we learn about the 
 matter by introspection? Let us take the case of 
 perceiving the interval between two musical notes. 
 When we hear the first note we experience an auditory 
 impression ; when we hear the second note we experi- 
 ence another auditory impression : but what do we 
 6 
 
82 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 actually experience when we perceive the relation 
 of pitch between the two notes ? We experience a 
 transition of consciousness from one to the other. This 
 transition in consciousness is the subjective aspect of 
 that which in its objective aspect we call a relation. 
 Two pieces of metal lie before us : we wish to perceive 
 their relative weights. We poise first one of them in 
 the hand and experience a particular impression ; next, 
 the other of them in the same way and experience 
 another impression : we then say that the second is 
 objectively heavier, and introspection tells us that the 
 transition in consciousness was from a lesser impression 
 to a greater. But so habitually do we attend to the 
 objective aspect of our experience, that few people 
 know anything about the subjective aspect. 
 
 To become acqmintedjKith the subjective aspect of 
 i the act of perception re^QuresJntrospeotion, or looking 
 within at the workings of our own consciousness. 
 But both in the objective and in thejsubjective aspect 3 
 retrospection, or looking back on our experience, j& 
 required. To perceive the interval between two notes, 
 we must hear first the one, next the other, and then 
 perceive what the interval between them was. We 
 must look back upon our experience. Such looking 
 back is a very simple case of reflection. And without 
 this very elementary and simple exercise of reflection, 
 the perception of relations is impossible. So, too, sub- 
 jectively. If in its subjective aspect the relation is 
 experienced as a transition in consciousness, it is quite 
 clear that the transition must be completed before it 
 
PERCEPTION 83 
 
 can be an object of introspection. Consciousness has, 
 so to speak, made a little journey from one impression 
 to another ; and it is only on reaching our destination 
 that we can say anything about the journey as a 
 whole. Then we can look back upon it and make it 
 an object of reflection. 
 
 I have spoken of the transition in consciousness as 
 the subjective aspect of the relation ; and yet, just 
 now, I said that the transition must -be completed 
 before it can be an object of introspection. Is there 
 not some confusion here ? First, I call the transition 
 the subjective aspect of the relation, and then I speak 
 of it as an object of introspection. It is puzzling, no 
 doubt ; but the puzzle is inevitable. The only way 
 to remove the difficulty is clearly to understand its 
 nature. Everything that we know must, in becoming 
 known to us, be an object of knowledge. If, then, we 
 are to know anything concerning the subjective aspect 
 of our conscious experience, it must be made an object 
 of knowledge. The subjective aspect of one moment's 
 experience must be made the object of a succeeding 
 moment's introspective experience. Introspection 
 always deals with past experience. It may be the 
 experience of only a moment ago ; but still it is the 
 experience not of the "now," but of the a just now." 
 One may illustrate this by a rough analogy. We can 
 never see what is behind us ; no matter how quickly 
 we turn round, we only see what was behind us a 
 moment ago, before we turned. So we can never 
 know that is to say, we can never make the object of 
 
84 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 knowledge what is the subjective aspect of our experi- 
 ence ; we can only know, through reflection, what was 
 the subjective aspect before we reflectively turned 
 round to examine it. Introspection is thus always 
 retrospection ; or, in other words, introspection is 
 always reflective. 
 
 Remember that in the ordinary course of our daily 
 experience we do not trouble about analysing it into 
 an objective aspect and a subjective aspect. From 
 morning to night we may have a series of states of 
 consciousness in accordance with which our actions 
 are guided; and we may never think of analysing any 
 one item of the experience. The little child not only 
 does not, but probably could not, analyse. We have 
 spoken of this simple, naive, unanalysed phase of con- 
 scious existence as sense-experience. It has also been 
 termed consentience. In such sense-experience there is 
 neither subject nor object ; these two aspects of the 
 experience are not yet distinguished in analysis. 
 There need not be, and probably in the case of the 
 little child there is not, any perception, in the sense in 
 which we are using this word. The relations as such 
 may never be focussed by the child through an act of 
 perception. For it is quite sufficient for -practical 
 purposes in the life jiL^ense-experience^jthat, the 
 relations (not yet definitely^perceived as such, or, 
 rendered focal to consciousness) should be_subcpn- 
 sc,io\isb[j>ensed. We are subconsciously aware of, or 
 sense (if we may, as before suggested, use this word as 
 a verb), the movements of our eyes and our limbs, and 
 
PERCEPTION 85 
 
 are practically guided by the sensations in our actions, 
 without turning the focus of consciousness upon them. 
 We experience our states__of_conscio:y^nes^ 
 long before we analyse them and perceive the relations 
 of theiF constituenT^lemeiifs" or factors to each other. 
 / Sense-experience thus supplies us with a large body j 
 \ of raw material upon which to exercise the higher 
 / faculties of the mind. 
 
 We will now follow up the subject of perception 
 a little farther. What we perceive, in the first in- 
 stance, is the relation between impressions. And, to 
 begin with, we deal with qualitative relations between 
 impressions of the same order. We teach the child, 
 for example, to perceive the relations between colours 
 the relation of blue to green, of green to yellow, of yellow 
 to red, of red to purple, of purple to violet, of violet to 
 blue. The transition in consciousness from red to blue 
 is quite different from the transition from blue to green. 
 Associations are all the while being formed between 
 the visual impressions and the names by which we 
 symbolise them. Again, we help the child to perceive 
 the relations between different sounds the sounds 
 of nature, the tones and inflections of the voice, the 
 consonantal and vowel sounds employed in language, 
 the different notes in music, and the differences in 
 timbre in different musical instruments. Here, too, a 
 great deal of incidental association is introduced, for 
 since sound is so important a medium of intercom- 
 munication, and since so much depends on tone and 
 inflection of the voice, the perception of relation 
 
86 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 among sounds naturally goes hand in hand with, first 
 the establishment of, and then the perception of, the 
 suggestive relation through association. 
 
 We thus lead the child to perceive the relations 
 between impressions of the same order sights, for 
 example, among each other, and sounds among each 
 other. Gradually there comes the perception of the 
 two fundamental relations of similarity and dissimi- 
 larity. Two blues, two reds, two voice-sounds, two 
 musical notes, are similar to each other ; red and blue, 
 voice-sound and violin-sound, are dissimilar to each 
 other. And gradually, too, there comes the perception 
 of similarity with difference. Two violin-sounds or 
 two voice-sounds are similar in quality but different 
 in pitch ; or the voice-sound and the violin-sound may 
 be similar in pitch but different in quality ; or, yet 
 more generally, the impressions produced by voice and 
 violin are similar in being auditory impressions, and 
 altogether different in character from those impressions 
 which we term visual, olfactory, or motor. Thus the 
 foundations of grouping or classification are laid, and 
 the power of perceiving similarity and difference is 
 quickened. 
 
 So far we have been considering qualitative differ- 
 ences, and these fall under two heads first, the more 
 general and broader differences between imprpiop ^ 
 different groups, auditory, olfactory, motor, and so 
 forth ; the complete difference, for example, between 
 the scent of jji violet, the sound of a piano-note, and 
 
 or a 
 of a 
 
 the sight ot'l green field: and secondly, the more 
 
PERCEPTION 87 
 
 special differences between impressions within the same 
 group ; the difference, for example, between the scent 
 - of a violet and that of a rose, or between the fresh 
 spring green of the larch and the mature green of the 
 cedar, or again, between the bark of a dog and the 
 bleat of a lamb. All these are sensed as different in 
 the naive life of sense-experience. They are only 
 perceived to be different when attention is specially 
 drawn to the differences as such ; when the relations 
 are rendered focal to consciousness. 
 
 We may now pass on to consider quantitative 
 
 relations. And here a more accurate and exact train- 
 
 t ing in the perception of relations is possible. Such 
 
 \raining ought, I think, to have a more distinct and 
 
 uefinite place in our system of elementary education. 
 
 The first stage in the perception of quantitative 
 and numerical relations is that in which the quantity 
 or number, as the case may be, is_indefinite. One 
 line may be perceived to be longer or shorter than 
 another without a definite perception of the exact 
 quantitative relation. So, too, one body may be per- 
 ceived to be heavier or lighter than another; one 
 strawberry more or less sweet than another; one note 
 louder or softer than another; one tint darker or 
 lighter than another ; and so forth. These are con- 
 tinuous quantities not naturally broken up into 
 separate units. Again, one group of objects may be 
 seen to be more numerous or less numerous than 
 another without the exact numerical relation being 
 perceived ; one tree may have more blossoms than 
 
88 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 another ; a series of notes, of rhythmical movements, 
 of touches, or of other impressions, may be many or 
 few. We may perceive the quantitative relations as 
 simply morM)r less ; not as how much more or less. 
 
 The how much more or less involves the perception 
 of definite quantitative or numerical relations. And 
 this is impossible until numerical ideas, those for 
 twice, thrice, four times, etc., and the words or other 
 signs by which we symbolise them, have been grasped. 
 The child has to associate the following : 
 
 1234 5 
 
 one two three four five 
 
 And he has further to learn that the grouping of the 
 objects so numbered, and called one, two, three, etc., 
 is immaterial. Take, for example, the following 
 arrangements of five dots : 
 
 The child has to learn that all these groupings are 
 numerically equivalent that is to say, that these are 
 similar numerically, though different in arrangement 
 or grouping. As a child I associated five with the 
 
 arrangement " . * and I remember being puzzled when 
 
 the same word was applied to a different grouping. 
 
 Even now I tend to visualise a group of five objects 
 
 arranged in this manner. As a child, too, I had some 
 
 4 difficulty from the fact that the same terms are 
 
PERCEPTION (89 
 
 vU> 
 
 applied to numbers and to quantities. That the relation 
 of . to ' . " is the numerical equivalent of the 
 
 quantitative relation of to _ . ; 
 
 and that the phrase " one to five " expresses both, is 
 not by any means obvious to the child-mind ; or cer- 
 tainly was riot to mine. This may be overcome by 
 drawing a series of lines representing the relations of 
 continuous quantities, thus : 
 
 . i 
 
 . . 2 
 
 ... 3 
 
 .... 4 
 
 5 
 
 The child may be trained in the perception of con- 
 tinuous quantitative relations by means of bits of 
 wood or strips of paper of different lengths.) He 
 should also be taught by constant practice to draw 
 lines exhibiting the simple numerical relations of 
 length. He will thus be correlating visual relations 
 with motor relations ; or rather, speaking more accu- 
 rately, he will be correlating visual relations associated 
 with motor relations as given in eye-movements, and 
 motor relations as given in finger or hand movements. 
 One great merit of Slojd is that it gives a training 
 in the perception of continuous quantitative relations. 
 And it is worth noting that by far the most accurate 
 perception of the relations of continuous quantities 
 are by means of eye-movements in correlation with 
 visual impressions. This is probably due in part to 
 the fact that' the transitions in consciousness, for 
 
90 PSYCHOLOGY FOE, TEACHERS 
 
 example, from the impression of one end of a line to 
 that of the other end, are accompanied by the pre- 
 sentative sensory data of eye-movements ; and in part 
 to the fact that, owing to the constant use of our eyes 
 from morning to night, we have so much practice in 
 the employment of this special mode of perception. 
 In any case, as we shall see (p. 188), a good deal of 
 use is made of the fact. 
 
 For much the same reason, the direct perception of 
 the quantitative value of angles is one that is of 
 remarkable accuracy ; for~we are constantly^lboking 
 out at the world around us along radii of a circle, of 
 which we form the centre, and radii which are inclined 
 to each other at definite angles. Both for its own sake 
 as affording a training in the accurate perception of 
 relations, and from its great range and importance in 
 physical science, the child can hardly be too soon, and 
 cannot be too exactly, trained in the 
 
 angular values. Such training should of course be 
 accompanied by practice in the drawing, of angles 
 and in the correlations this involves. We have, too, 
 here a means of bringing out that which is of so 
 
 great importance in the acquisition of exact know- 
 ledge, the due perception of similarity with difference. 
 
\ 
 
 (UNIVERSITY 
 
 The angular distance of a b, and of m n, in relation to 
 the centre c, on radii from which they are placed, is 
 the same ; but the direct distance from a to b is only 
 half that from m to n ; while the distance of c to a is 
 greater than that from c to 6, and that of c to m 
 greater than that from c to n. When we remember 
 that in astronomy our direct measurements are those 
 of angular distance, and that the bodies so observed 
 are at different distances from us the observers ; when 
 we remember, too, that the positions of places on our 
 geographical maps are given in terms of angular 
 distance that is, in degrees, minutes, etc. it will be 
 clear that the training in such perceptions of angular 
 relations will be of great service to the child as he 
 proceeds with his studies. There are a great number 
 of people of average education and intelligence who 
 could not tell you why we speak of " degrees " of 
 latitude and longitude, and for whom the phrase 
 " angular value " has little or no meaning. And this 
 is in large measure due to the fact that their powers 
 of perception have never been exercised in relations 
 of angular magnitude. 
 
 The direct perception of relations of area or superficial 
 extent is a good deal more difficult than that of relations 
 of linear length. Nor is this to be wondered at, since it 
 involves, at any rate in its more exact application, two 
 dimensions in space. Not that the child need in the 
 first instance analyse the areas the size of which he 
 is comparing into linear relations in two directions. 
 At first he directly perceives, without analysis, that 
 
92 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 one area is larger than the other, and then roughly 
 how much larger. But it will be found that the more 
 nice and exact perception of the relative sizes of 
 different areas involves the more or less conscious 
 analysis of the area in its two dimensional directions, 
 and the synthetic combination of the two perceptions 
 in the final perception. This therefore serves as an 
 example of what we may term compound perception, 
 the final result of which is due to the synthesis of 
 simple perceptions. An example of the same kind of 
 thing carried a stage farther, is seen in- the quanti- 
 tative perception of cubical volumes. Here, for the 
 purposes of exact comparison, linear perceptions 
 in three dimensions have to be combined in the final 
 result. 
 
 The perception of quajatijaJiy^_j^latiQns of weight, 
 of pressure, of depth of tint in colour, of amount of 
 salinity, acidity, or sweetness in taste, are_less_accuxate 
 than those of linear length, probably, as before noted, 
 in part at least, from the fact that the transitions in 
 consciousness are in these cases not accompanied by con- 
 tinuous motor sp.nafl.tiona Still, even in these cases, 
 practice improves to a surprising degree the accuracy of 
 perception. The artist can perceive relations of intensity 
 and purity of colour in a way in which no one without 
 his special training could hope to do. Tha tea-taster 
 and the wine-taster acquire_an accuracy of perception 
 which to_one who isjmtrainecL appears to be the result 
 of an unusual natural gift ; while a man who has been 
 trained in such work detects differences in the scent 
 
PERCEPTION 93 
 
 of different samples of raw tobacco - leaf which to 
 ordinary perception would pass unnoticed. 
 
 The direct perception of time-relations is seldom 
 made a matter of practical observation, except to some 
 extent in music. It is not difficult, however, to 
 perceive the equality or inequality of a series of time- 
 intervals, unless they are too long. If a series of taps 
 about a second or so apart be made, one can readily 
 perceive whether they are equidistant in time, or 
 whether the intervals are too short or too long. Nor 
 is it difficult to say whether, when one short interval 
 has been given, another, similarly given, is twice, thrice, 
 or four times that interval. In these cases we tend to 
 fill in the gap with so many similar intervals two, 
 three, four, and so on, as the case may be. When a 
 series of similar intervals are presentatively given, it 
 is surprising with what accuracy extensive groups of 
 them can be perceived without counting. Listen, for 
 example, to the ticking of a clock or your watch. The 
 sounds may readily be made, without actual counting, 
 to fall into a rhythm. If, for example, I listen to the 
 ticking of my watch, the sounds tend to fall into a six- 
 rhythm or an eight-rhythm. The first of every six or 
 of every eight is, so to speak, emphasised. This emphasis 
 is independent of actual counting. When the rhythm 
 has been established, one may, without much difficulty, 
 group the emphatic sounds into a wider rhythm of 
 their own, and thus, through the double rhythm, 
 perceive time -intervals of many seconds. 
 
 You will probably find that, if you experiment in 
 
94 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 this way with your watch, when a six, eight, or other 
 rhythm has been established, you have timed your 
 breathing to the rhythm a pretty example of sub- 
 conscious correlation. Of course, by counting the 
 sounds, or more readily by counting the rhythmic sets 
 of sounds, we can accurately measure intervals of 
 almost any desired length ; but here we are going 
 beyond direct perception. 
 
 Note that we are in such cases dealing with 
 compouiid__perception ; we are combining the per- 
 / ception_ of time-relations with the perception of 
 '.numerical relations. Omitting now this numerical 
 element in the perception of time-intervals, dealing, 
 that is to say, with the intervals as such, and not 
 with the summation of a number of similar intervals, 
 we may inquire what is the psychological nature of 
 the time-relation; ^>It would seem to be primarily i 
 i the amount of sense-fading which an impression has 
 undergone. *An impression, whether of hearing or 
 sight or touch, does not disappear from consciousness 
 suddenly, but fades gradually. It does last, indeed, 
 for a little while without any sensible fading. A 
 visual impression, no matter how instantaneous the 
 physical cause thereof may be as in the case, for 
 example, of the electric spark dwelL^in consciousness 
 about jg- of_ji_ second without sensible fading. If, 
 therefore, sparks^pllow each other more rapidly than 
 twenty-five to the second they appear continuous to 
 the eye, though^by_the_ear in which the sense^fading 
 is much more rapid, theyiareheard to be discontinuous 
 
PERCEPTION 9 5 
 
 as a series of distinct snaps. Hence the blurred 
 appearance presented by the spokes of the wheels 
 when a gig is in rapid motion. The photograph sees 
 (if one may so describe its action) very much more 
 instantaneously than the eye. Hence instantaneous 
 photographs of animals in motion look unnatural; the 
 photograph sees them and fixes them in a way that 
 no human eye can ever see them. 
 
 There is thus a short period in which there is little 
 or no sensible fading. Beyond this period the im- 
 pression lingers in consciousness, and fades away 
 gradually. In directly perceiving time-relations we 
 are perceiving the amount of this fading. Natural 
 bodily rhythms, like that of respiration, or that of 
 walking into which this element of fading also 
 largely enters are of considerable assistance to us, 
 through correlation, in perceiving the quantitative 
 value of time-relations. 
 
 There is one more point to notice about the per- 
 ception of time-relations. It is that for purposes both 
 of science and of daily practical life we translate 
 them, so to speak, into space-relations in order that we 
 may perceive their exact value. We look at the clock, 
 and perceive that the minute-hand has passed over an 
 angular distance of 60, and at once say that twenty 
 minutes has elapsed. In the sundial we estimate 
 time by the space over w r hich the shadow has passed. 
 King Alfred perceived time-intervals through the 
 intervention of space-intervals when he noticed how 
 much of his candle had been burnt away'. The 
 
96 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 savage perceives the position of the sun in the heavens 
 and thus notes the passage of time. 
 
 .Attention must now be drawn to the fact that the 
 relations which we perceive are in all cases particular 
 relations, though it does not by~*my means Tollow 
 that the related terms should both be particular. 
 .The particularity lies injthe relation, not in the terms 
 that are related, one or other of which may be, as 
 we shall hereafter see, the product of generalisation. 
 We perceive the length-relation between this line and 
 that line, the size-relation between this area and that 
 area, the relation of pitch between this note and that 
 note, or, if we have good auditory memories, between 
 this note and our auditory idea of the tenor A, the 
 relation of colour between this tint and that tint, or 
 perhaps between our visual idea of the full red of the 
 spectrum and the red of last night's sunset. Where we 
 are actually perceiving the relation between two pre- 
 sentative impressions the relation, for example, of the 
 taste of this nectarine and that peach we may, as 
 before suggested, speak of it as presentative, and call it 
 an " impression of relation " ; the " idea of relation " is 
 the re-presentation_j}l^aZ^ 
 
 . Eut^when we perceive the relation between 
 two_ sense-ideas, as in the case of the red of the 
 spectrum and that of last night's sunset, the relation 
 . is presentative thgyglLjJie__ideaaAetwaeTi whjph thg. 
 7 relatjonJjLjterceivedJkre re-presentative. 
 
 It will be noticed that perception makes new use 
 of the old materials of sense-experience. In sense- 
 
PERCEPTION 9 7 
 
 experience all the data for at any rate the simpler 
 objects of perception are already given ; but they are 
 given in subconscious awareness, not in fully conscious 
 focal perception. The impressions are given in the 
 clear definiteness of focal consciousness; the transitions 
 between them are also given, but only in the half-light of 
 subconsciousness. Attention has never been reflectively 
 focussed upon them. When the clear illumination 
 of attention is reflectively thrown upon them they 
 become objects of perception. That is what is meant 
 by saying that perception makes new use of the old 
 materials of sense-experience. If one may so put it, 
 the head and tail of the surrounding world is given in 
 sense-experience ; but it needs perception to see the 
 relation of head to tail in that experience. 
 
 Perception thus presents to consciousness new 
 (objects, namely, thftjglgjjrnia which are percgived. But 
 not only are there new objects in the focus; the 
 marginal region, and with it the whole field of con- 
 sciousness, is modified, and profoundly modified, by the 
 introduction of a new set of elements. Sense-experi- 
 ence deals with impressions of sense and their re- 
 presentative ideas, and the margin or background in 
 sense-experience is constituted by elements of like 
 order, presentative or re-presentative. The object of 
 sense, set in such a margin, is the sencept. But when 
 perception introduces the new elements which we 
 term relations, these elements are, so to speak, woven 
 into the margin or background of consciousness. An 
 obj'ect of sense is now no longer a new impression, but 
 7 
 
98 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 this and something more. It is set in a background 
 which perception has rendered relational. To such an 
 impression set in a subconscious relational background 
 we may apply the term percept. When I look out, 
 as I am now doing, across the blue -green waters of 
 Weymouth Bay and see the headland of Portland 
 against the horizon, this is not merely an impression 
 of sense ; it is a percept, since it is set in a back- 
 ground of space-relations, wrought into the margin of 
 my consciousness by all my past experience of such 
 relations. And when I see a column of white spray 
 suddenly rise from the water, I listen attentively, and 
 after an interval of half a minute or more I hear, and 
 even feel, the boom of a great gun. The Channel 
 Squadron are " prize-firing " in the bay. The spirt of 
 water I see, the boom of the cannon that I hear, the 
 reverberations which roll along the bay from cliff to cliff, 
 all these are for me not merely impressions of sense, m 
 they are raised to the level of percepts through their 
 relational setting. And when the prolonged reverbera- 
 tion gives rise in my mind to the idea of thunder, this 
 is not due merely to the natural resemblance in the 
 sounds, but also to the influence of perceived similarity 
 of relations. 
 
 The percept, then, is the point of application of theK 
 ideas of relation with which the mind has been stored 
 by the exercise of the faculty of perception and, we 
 may add, of those generalised ideas with which the 
 next chapter will deal. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION. 
 
 WHEN we analyse a substance chemically we split it 
 up into its constituent elements. We might examine 
 a drop of water with the highest powers of the 
 microscope, and we should not be able to distinguish 
 the constituent oxygen from the constituent hydrogen. 
 But when we take pure water and by appropriate 
 means analyse it chemically, we separate the consti- 
 tuent hydrogen from the constituent oxygen. We may 
 term this kind of analysis dissociating analysis. But \ 
 if instead of pure water we select such a substance as 
 a piece of granite, we may analyse it to some extent 
 without submitting it to the process of chemical 
 dissociation. By careful examination with the naked 
 eye or with a lens, we may distinguish the constituent 
 minerals, the quartz, the mica, the felspar, and so forth. 
 We do not dissociate them in this case ; we leave them 
 just as they were ; we merely distinguish them. And 
 in doing so, we may fix our attention first on the 
 quartz, to the subordination of the mica and the 
 felspar ; then on the mica, to the subordination of the 
 other two constituents ; and then on the felspar in 
 
 99 
 
100 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 like manner. This we may call distinguishing 
 analysis, as contrasted with the dissociating analysis 
 of chemistry. It is of distinguishing analysis, not 
 of dissociating analysis, that I am now going to 
 speak. 
 
 We may treat any imgrfissiou^_or series of im- 
 pressions in a manner analogous to that in which we 
 treated the impression of a piece of granite. We 
 may single out certain constituents for focal atten- 
 tion to the more or less complete subordination of 
 other constituents. But is not this just what we do 
 in our daily practical experience ? Do we not have 
 a focal impression and marginal constituents which 
 are so far subordinated as to be relegated to the sub- 
 conscious background ? Yonder yacht that I see 
 beating up against the wind, am I not selecting that 
 for focal attention, and practically neglecting the rest 
 of the visual field, rocks, sea, sky, to say nothing 
 of numerous other constituents, auditory, olfactory, 
 tactual, and other, of the subconscious margin ? 
 Certainly we have here the faculty which, applied 
 to a new end, makes distinguishing analysis possible. 
 But it is just in this special application that the 
 difference lies. When I fix my attention on the 
 yacht to the practical neglect of so much that is 
 marginal in consciousness, I do not do so for the pur- 
 
 \ pose of analysis. But if I consider what was the nature 
 
 > - - 9 i 7 
 ixof my state of consciousness when I looked at the 
 
 yacnT,~~9irecting my procedure to the special end of 
 distinguishing the focal impression from the marginal 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 101 
 
 setting, then I take a step in analysis. In the 
 analysis, as saeh, there is conscious and intentional 
 reference to the relation of that which is dis~ 
 tinguished to the subordinate residue from which it 
 is thus distinguished. 
 
 Let us, however, look at the matter in its objective 
 aspect first ; for it is in this aspect, and this only, 
 that we should teach our children to analyse. I 
 pluck a pimpernel from the ground at my side, and 
 distinguish root, stem, leaves, and flower ; and, continu- 
 ing my analysis, distinguish in the flowers, bracts, 
 petals, stamens, and pistil. The analysis is purely 
 objective ; I am not considering the subjective aspect 
 of the states of consciousness. In distinguishing each ' 
 part, and focussing my attention upon that, to the 
 temporary subordination, but by no means the com- 
 plete neglect, of the other parts, I have in view its 
 relation to these other parts from which I am 
 distinguishing it. We may say, then, that this analysis 
 with which we are now dealing is the art of making 
 predominant some particular element in a complex 
 \ impression to the subordination of the other elements, 
 \and of perceiving the relation of the predominant 
 Clement to the subordinate elements. There is probably 
 no subject better fitted than elementary observational 
 botany for training a child in this objective analysis'. 
 The several parts of a plant lend themselves admirably 
 to successive selection for predominance ; the relations 
 of the parts to each other, and of each to the whole, 
 are comparatively simple ; and material for study is 
 
102 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 readily obtainable. Of course, the training must 
 throughout be practical, in actual touch with the 
 natural object. The teacher must refrain from 1 
 introducing explanations beyond the grasp of the I ' 
 child's mind. He must, in fact, have clear ideas of 
 what he is teaching, and what mental faculty it is his 
 object to train and strengthen. An occasional visit 
 to a museum, when that is possible, will afford a 
 great variety of objects on which the child may be 
 taught to exercise his powers of analysis. In a 
 country walk the elements of scenery may be made 
 to serve the same end. The hill may be made focal 
 and predominant, the valley being temporarily sub- 
 ordinated, and the relation of the valley to the hill 
 brought home to perception, the slopes sweeping 
 upward to constitute the high ground. Then the 
 valley with its streamlet may be made predominant, 
 the hillsides being subordinate, and a new aspect of 
 the relation may be emphasised in perception the 
 hillsides sloping to the valley bed and forming the 
 collecting ground for the waters of the streamlet. In 
 a seaside ramble the analysis into headland and bay, 
 and the relations they bear to each other, may simi- 
 larly be brought out. Nor is it necessary to go to 
 field or museum, to hillside or headland, to find 
 materials for this purpose. The qualities of size, 
 shape, colour, weight, hardness, resistance, are possessed 
 by the commonest solid objects, and each of these 
 qualities may be severally distinguished in analysis 
 from the other qualities with which it is naturally 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 103 
 
 associated; each may in turn be made focal and 
 predominant to the marginal subordination of the 
 others ; and the relations of each as predominant 
 to the others as subordinate may be brought home 
 to perception. 
 
 Subjective analysis, involving as it does introspection 
 and close attention to the phenomena of consciousness, j 
 is not a matter for children. But the teacher may j 
 with advantage exercise himself in such analysis. He 
 may distinguish in the subjective aspect of the 
 impression the several sensations which constitute it, 
 and may render now one, now another, predominant 
 to the subordination of the others, and endeavour to 
 perceive the relations which hold good between them. 
 >He may exercise himself in rendering focal and 
 predominant sensations, such as the motor sensations, 
 which are normally subordinate for example, the 
 sensations which accompany the accommodation of the 
 eyes for varying distances, or the motor sensations in 
 writing, drawing, and other skilled activities. He 
 may practise himself in rendering focal the perceptual 
 part of his experience, and the relations which under 
 ordinary circumstances are taken for granted and pass 
 unheeded. He must remember that a good deal of 
 experience which was once fully conscious and needed 
 attention has long ago for him become subconscious 
 and needs no attention ; and that the child is in the 
 condition in which he himself once was, and which he 
 can only realise by a special effort directed to that 
 end. And as he carries on his introspective analysis 
 
104 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 he will come to understand more clearly how the 
 states of consciousness which in naive sense-experience 
 are sensed as wholes, comprise numerous constituent 
 elements which in analysis may be distinguished and 
 rendered successively predominant, thus rendering 
 possible the perception of the relations which hold 
 good between them. 
 
 " Let us here notice that the process of perception 
 which we considered in the last chapter in part involves 
 and in part leads up to the analysis with which we 
 are now dealing. When we perceive the relative 
 sweetness of two strawberries, or the relative weights 
 of two pieces of metal, we make these particular 
 qualities of the natural objects predominant, since it 
 is the relation in respect of these particular qualities 
 that we are perceiving. So too when we^are per- 
 ceiving the relative lengths of two sticks, or pieces of 
 string, or lines drawn upon paper or on the black- 
 board, it is the length element in the impressions that 
 we cause to predominate over the other characters, such 
 as the colour, black or grey in the case of the line on 
 paper, white on the blackboard. Thus the process of 
 \ perception helps to lead up to that of analysis, since 
 it necessitates the predominance in consciousness of 
 that particular aspect ^oT' the impressrcm^ie which 
 attention is directed in perceiving the relation. 
 Wherein lies the difference, then,btween the* pre- 
 dominance given in the act of perception and the 
 tt^m^a 
 
 ettmanaysis ? Again we must 
 answer, In the pumose and end in view. In per- 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 105 
 
 \ ception we neglect or ignore such elements of the 
 impressions as are not involved in the special relation 
 which is the object of perception. They nowise 
 concern us for the purposes of perceiving the relation. 
 But in analysis our aim and object is to render a 
 particular aspect of the impression predominant, with 
 a view to perceiving its relations to other aspects of 
 the impression which are temporarily subordinate. 
 In the one case we neglect or ignore all those aspects 
 of the impression that are not rendered predominant ; 
 in the other case we make them subordinate in order 
 that we may perceive the relations which they bear 
 to that which we are making for the time predominant. 
 We analyse the plant into root, stemH.eaves, flowers, 
 and so forth, in order that we may perceive the 
 relations which these parts bear to each other in the 
 plant. 
 
 The complement to analysis is synthesis, a fully 
 conscious and intentional process, to be distinguished 
 from the "natural synthesis" of which we before spoke. 
 When we have analysed our plant into root, stem, 
 leaves, flowers, etc., when we have perceived the 
 relations which these parts bear to each other and to 
 the whole of which they are parts, then we synthetic- 
 ally recombine the constituents in their due relations. 
 Only when we have done this, and when we have 
 perceived the relations of this object to other objects, 
 does the plant stand out as a fully developed percept. 
 We look at the plant with the same eyes ; it is'still 
 an object of sense-experience, httd% this and some- 
 
106 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 thing more. It is set in a background of relations 
 which have been duly perceived ; it is an object of an 
 experience in which sensation and perception have 
 been combined, and towards which each has contributed 
 in due degree and proportion. 
 
 Let us note how analysis and synthesis are combined 
 and co-operate in spelling and in pronunciation. Take, 
 for example, the pronunciation of such a word as " flag." 
 We pronounce the word rapidly, and regard it as a 
 whole. But now let us analyse it. Pronouncing it 
 slowly, and paying attention to the sounds and their 
 accompanying vocalisation - movements, we find four 
 constituents, each of which is made predominant in 
 turn to the subordination of the others ; the relations 
 of each to the other being perceived. Having thus 
 analysed and perceived the relations ^THbhe analytic 
 products, we recombine in accurately proportioned 
 synthesis ; and the word " flag," as we again rapidly 
 pronounce it, is a definite percept. So too with 
 spelling : we analyse the word " flag " as written or 
 printed. We maike each letter in turn predominant, 
 and take note of its relation in the word to the other 
 letters ; and then, taking in the whole word at a 
 glance, we view it synthetically, recombining the 
 products of our analysis. Finally, we correlate the 
 two analyses, and perceive the points of similarity and 
 the points of difference. There are four letters, as 
 there are four sounds : the names ;we give to the first 
 two pretty closely resemble to our ear the pronuncia- 
 tion-sounds in " flag " ; but the names we give to the 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 107 
 
 last two differ markedly for the ear from the pro- 
 nunciation-sounds which enter into the synthesis of 
 the word "flag" as pronounced. The object of spelling 
 reforms is to assimilate pronunciation-sounds and the 
 sounds of the names we give to the constituent letters, 
 to get rid of the anomaly of spelling the same sounds 
 in different manners (as in the latter part of the words 
 " bean," " queen," " mien," " serene," and " quinine "), 
 and of spelling different sounds in the same manner 
 (as in " enough," " bough," " trough," " borough," and 
 
 "hough"). 
 
 Let us now pass to generalisation. Attention has ' 
 already been drawn to the fact that the ^objects of 
 perception are particular relations. We perceive the 
 relation of pitch between Jjiis note and that note, the 
 relation of length between this line and that line, the 
 relation of colour between this leaf and that leaf. In 
 all su^h_cases^jerception we are dealing with the 
 relations between particulars. In the case of quanti- 
 tative ' relations perception is also particular. We 
 perceive that the* weight of this piece of metal is twice 
 the weight of that ; that this time-interval is thrice 
 that ; that this slip of paper is half the length of that 
 
 slip. But it must soon strike the child who is exer- 
 
 \ ' 
 
 cising hisJ^acuUyj^ same relatiom 
 
 holcls good for ^a_number of pairs i__of__objectg j ; the 
 objects~~exhibiting the relation differing while the 
 relation itself remains unchanged. Two marbles are 
 placed at a distance of a yard apart : the marbles may 
 be removed, and pieces of stone, or bits of wood, or 
 
108 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 marks on the floor, may be substituted. The distance- 
 relation is perceived to remain unaltered. Or the 
 marbles, the pieces of stone, the bits of wood, the 
 marks on the floor, may be arranged, a yard apart, in 
 different parts of the room ; and the child may per- 
 ceive that the space-relations are in all the cases 
 similar. The distance-relation common to a number 
 of distinct and separate perceptions is thus floated off, 
 so to speak, from the particulars in and through which 
 it is exhibited, and the child reaches the general idea 
 of the distance which we call a yard. Again, the 
 child may perceive that this piece of metal is twice 
 the weight of that, this line twice the length of that, 
 this time-interval twice as great as that; and then 
 further perceive that the numerical relations are in all 
 these cases the same. He thus gains a general idea 
 of the numerical relation which we symbolise by the 
 word " twice " ; the general idea being floated off from 
 the particular cases in which it is exemplified. Such 
 a general idea of relation thus involves the perception 
 of the similarity of a number of special relations ; the 
 distinguishing in analysis of the relations from the 
 particula7~oTyjects whichTexhibit the relations ; and the 
 grouping of these similar Felations under one general 
 head. This grouping together of a^number of relations. 
 (Tclistinguished through analysis, in. virtue of their per- 
 ceived, similarity, is termed conception. 
 
 Note, however, that conception, properly so called, 
 is a fully conscious process performed with a definite 
 end injvdew. The generalisation from particulars is 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 109 
 
 an intentional one. It involves an extension of that 
 reflection to which allusion was made in the last 
 chapter. For it is clear that if we are to perceive 
 that the same relation holds good in a number of 
 particular instances, and thus to conceive the relation- 
 ship in general, we must look back reflectively, not 
 only on the experience of a moment ago, but on that 
 more prolonged experience during which the particular 
 instances were presented to consciousness. \N~ote also 
 that, whereas the particular relation which is the 
 obiect_of_perceptian may be in such close touch with 
 presentative impression that we may speak of it as 
 itself an impression of relation, the generalised relation 
 which is the object of conception is necessarily the 
 outcome of attention directed to re-presentative 
 experience, so that we cannot speak of a general 
 . impression of relation, but must speak of a general 
 idea of relation. Impressions must always be 
 particular ; ideas may be particular or general. 
 products of generalisation are ideas, not impressions. 
 
 In the development of experience, perception pre- 
 cedes conception, which follows" after a longer or 
 shorter interval. Some psychologists would, however, 
 deny that this is so. They say that in perception we 
 apply a general conception to a particular case. We 
 apply, for example, the general conception which we 
 symbolise by the word " half " to the particular case 
 of the weights of these two pieces of metal. They 
 sayi further, that the term " weight " is itself symbolic 
 of a general conception of which we merely see a 
 
110 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 particular example in this or that body which, as we 
 say, possesses weight. Every term which we employ 
 to express relations is, they say, expressive of a general 
 idea, such as hardness, length, sweetness, colour, and 
 so forth. If, then, they argue, we are, in perception, 
 applying a general conception in a particular-instance, 
 it is clear that the conception which we thus apply 
 must precede the perception which consists in its 
 special application. 
 
 This sounds somewhat convincing ; and it may not 
 at first be easy to see what reply is to be given to 
 this contention. Moreover, it is perfectly true that 
 when we perceive that an angle of 10 is twice an 
 angle of 5, we are applying certain general con- 
 ceptions to a particular case. It will be worth while, 
 therefore especially as the relation of perception to 
 conception is one that it is important to make clear 
 to take some trouble in endeavouring to put the 
 matter in what would seem to be its true light. 
 
 Let us take a particular case. A child is given 
 two pieces of metal, and is taught to perceive that the 
 one is heavier than the other. Let us suppose that 
 he succeeds in perceiving the relation which we wish 
 to bring home to his perception. It is symbolised for 
 him by that word " heavier." In perceiving that the 
 one piece of metal is heavier than the other, the child 
 is not applying a general conception to the particular 
 case. He has not yet reached a general conception of 
 weight, and cannot reach it until he has accumulated 
 a store of particular instances from which, by general- 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 111 
 
 isation, the conception can take form in his mind. 
 The perception, then, for the child is quite particular, 
 and not a case of the general exemplified in the 
 particular. We proceed now to exercise him in this 
 mode of perception. We give him a great number of 
 pairs of material bodies to poise in his hands and tell 
 us which is the heavier of the two. As he does so, he 
 cannot fail ere long to perceive that the relation of 
 a to &, which we call " heavier," is similar to the 
 relation of c to d, which we also call " heavier," and 
 this again to the relation of e to /, called " heavier," 
 and so on in a number of pairs of cases. As long as 
 he is dealing with particular pairs of cases he is per- 
 ceiving that they are similar each to each; he is 
 perceiving the similarity between particular relations. 
 But when it strikes him that all these cases are alike, 
 that the word " heavier," which was used in each case, 
 applies to all ; when, his attention being drawn to 
 this fact, he consciously and intentionally comprises 
 them all in a general idea to which the common term 
 " heavier " is applied ; then he not only perceives that 
 they are similar each to each, but conceives their 
 general similarity ; then the word " heavier " no 
 r longer stands only for a particular relation, perceived 
 I in this, that, and the other case, but it stands for the 
 \conception of a common relationship. 
 
 It will be observed that we apply the same term 
 " heavier " both to the particular perception and to 
 the general conception. No doubt this aids the child 
 in generalising and in reaching the conception. But it 
 
112 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 tends to obscure the fact that the process of perception 
 is distinguishable from the process of conception. 
 And when once the conception has been reached, the 
 word " heavier " is bound thenceforth to carry with it 
 conceptual force. So that, after the conception has been 
 reached, when a child perceives, for example, that this 
 small volume of mercury in one vessel is heavier than 
 that large volume of water in the other vessel, he 
 may not incorrectly be said to be applying his general 
 conception " heavier " to a particular case in which it 
 is exemplified. The sequence then would seem to be, 
 first, a perception of heavier ; then other similar per- 
 ceptions ; then the perception that these are similar 
 each to each^chen the conception of their similarity 
 and the generalisation of the term " heavier " and the 
 ideas it expresses ; finally, new perceptions of like 
 character carrying with them a conceptual import. 
 
 Note, then, how perception and conception play 
 backwards and forwards as experience develops and 
 ripens. We begin with perception, and out of this there 
 grows, through generalisation, conception. In further 
 acts of perception we view the results in their bearing 
 upon the conception we have already reached, and 
 thus make this conception fuller and more adequate. 
 Every step in perception makes the conception wider 
 and_richer ; and the enriched ^nryppptirm renders 
 further perception less isolated and more full of 
 meaning. In conception we are floated off from 
 particulars and rise into the region of thought; in 
 perception we bring back our conceptual thought into 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION (113 
 
 (n, 
 
 touch with practical experience. When once the 
 power of generalisation has been developed, we are 
 terribly apt to apply it hastily and on inadequate 
 grounds of perception ; it is only by. constantly 
 bringing it into touch with further and more ex- 
 tensive perception in practical experience that we 
 correct the hastiness and inadequacy of our generalis- 
 ations and give them serviceable validity and reality. 
 It is essential that the teacher should bear this in 
 mind, that he may guide the child, not on]y in the 
 acquisition of general ideas, but in constantly sub- 
 mitting them to the touchstone of experience. 
 
 To the products of the double process of perception 
 and conception, as employed for a common end, we 
 should apply the word knowledge. Sense-experience 
 is not knowledge, though it presents us with the raw 
 material from which knowledge may be elaborated ; 
 perception by itself is not knowledge, for knowledge 
 involves the generalisation of particulars, the import- 
 ing into them of general meaning. Only when per- 
 ception and conception act and react on each other in 
 the way we have just been considering, does knowledge, 
 properly so called, take form and shape. 
 
 Special reference should here be made to quantitative 
 relations. Their generality would seem to be part of 
 their peculiar nature ; and here, if anywhere, we might 
 /expect conception to precede perception. It may, 
 indeed, be contended that while we may perceive this 
 piece of metal to be heavier than that piece of metal, 
 prior to any general conception of " heavier," we could 
 8 
 
114 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 not possibly perceive the one to be twice as heavy as 
 the other, prior to any general conception of the mean- 
 ing of the word "twice" and the idea it conveys. The 
 idea " twice " is, it may be said, in its essential nature 
 general, and would be without meaning if applied to a 
 merely particular relation of this weight to that weight. 
 We may agree with this contention to this extent that 
 it is extremely improbable that the child would acquire 
 his first perception of the relation of two to one by 
 means of perceiving the relative heaviness of two 
 pieces of metal. It is quite likely, therefore, that 
 when the child perceives the quantitative relation of 
 heaviness, he has already reached the conception which 
 we symbolise by the word " twice." We may not so 
 readily agree, however, to the assertion that the child 
 reaches a conception of the relation of one to two 
 before he perceives the relation in particular instances. 
 There can be little doubt that the child reaches his 
 conception of "twice " in just the same way as he reaches 
 his conception of " heavier." He first senses the differ- 
 ence of one thing from two things. They form 
 different impressions in sense - experience. He then 
 perceives the difference as a relation of a particular 
 kind. When he has perceived it in a number of 
 particular instances, he generalises and reaches a 
 conception of the relation. Then, and not till then, 
 the relation has for him a general meaning. It is 
 some time before he comprises in his generalisation 
 the relation of two to one as applied t'o separate 
 objects, and the relation of two to one as applied to 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 115 
 
 continuous quantities. As I have before mentioned, 
 I can myself remember being puzzled in the matter. I 
 had not at that time generalised sufficiently to reach 
 the conception of the relation of two to one applying 
 
 both to such cases as . . to . , and to . 
 
 But from their very varied and general applicability 
 we may surmise that the perception of numerical 
 relations very early gives rise to the conception of 
 such relations. And, in general, that conception, 
 though it never precedes, follows hard upon the 
 heels of perception. As before mentioned, our words 
 for particular relations, as perceived, are the same as 
 those which we employ for the relations as generalised 
 and conceived ; and this must aid the child in rapidly 
 passing on from perception to conception. The gener- 
 alisation of experience in conception was not alluded 
 to in the last chapter, for the sufficient reason that our 
 object then was to get clear ideas of the nature of 
 particular relations, for which purpose it was necessary 
 to keep distinct, in description and apprehension, mental 
 processes which, though they take origin in close 
 association with each other, are, none the less them- 
 selves distinct. 
 
 The relation of perception to conception having \ 
 now been illustrated, we may pass on to consider the j 
 relation of the percept to the concept. The term 
 " percept " was applied to an impression set in a 
 background which perception has rendered relational. 
 When the child is looking at a plant, in which the 
 relation of root to stem, stem to leaves, and leaves to 
 
116 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 flowers, has been perceived, the plant is no longer for 
 him an impression of mere sense-experience. It is 
 a percept : the impression is set in a subconscious 
 relational background. But when the child has] 
 examined a number of plants, and has generalise^/ 
 his perceptions so as to reach general conceptions 
 of the relationships involved ; when he has not only 
 analysed some particular plant, so as to distinguish the 
 several parts, but has analysed a number of plants 
 into parts more or less similar and more or less 
 similarly related ; when he has further recombined the 
 generalised products of his distinguishing analysis into 
 a generalised plant; then he reaches a concept. 
 Henceforward, when he looks at a plant, he sees it 
 not merely as an object of sense - experience ; not 
 merely as a percept, or impression set in a back- 
 ground of perceived relations : he sees in it a par-j 
 ticular exemplification of his general concept " plant/"' 
 And just as there is a constant to and fro play from 
 perception to conception and back again on perception, 
 so is there a constant to and fro play from the percept 
 to the concept and back again on the concept. Our 
 concepts, like our conceptions, are terribly apt to be 
 vitiated by hasty generalisation, and also by imperfect 
 analysis and incomplete synthesis ; but by constantly 
 bringing them into touch with perceptual experience, 
 we render*.them clearer, more real, in closer accordance . 
 with the natural relations of the things from which 
 they have been floated off in conceptual thought. 
 Every application of the concept to the touchstone \ 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 117 
 
 of practical experience renders it richer and more 
 exact ; and the richer and more exact concept sheds 
 its light on the percept and gives it fresh meaning 
 for thought. Thus by action and reaction our know- 
 ledge grows in range and exactness and in general 
 meaning. Q 
 
 The percept precedes the concept in natural order 
 of genesis just as perception precedes conception. At 
 what exact time, in the development of the child's 
 mind, concepts are formed, it is very difficult to say, 
 because the same word may, as we have seen, stand 
 for a sense-idea, a percept, or a concept. Take the 
 word " sheep," for example : in his earliest experience 
 this word is associated in the little child's mind with 
 the sense-impression, and tends through association to 
 call up or suggest a sense-idea. Probably this sense- 
 idea is generic. If the child has seen, as he probably 
 will have seen, a number of sheep, each differing from 
 the others in minute, unnoticed points of difference, the 
 word " sheep " is not likely to suggest the sense-idea of 
 any one of them, but a composite g^se-idea, with the 
 blended features of a number of -sense-impressions. 
 Such a composite sense-idea is termed generic, to 
 -distinguish it from a general idea. The generic 
 sense-idea is not a voluntary product. It results 
 from the slight individual variations of the impres- 
 sions of which it is re-presentative. A great number 
 of our sense-ideas are thus generic. Hence, if we are 
 asked to visualise a sheep, the visual idea or image 
 does not precisely resemble any one sheep we have 
 
118 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 ever seen, but the blended features of many sheep. 
 The general idea, on the other hand, is the result of 
 the conscious and voluntary exercise of the power of 
 generalising. No doubt the natural tendency to form 
 generic sense-ideas is utilised when we voluntarily 
 generalise ; just as the natural tendency to make" the 
 impression focal in a marginal setting is utilised when 
 we voluntarily analyse. In mental development we 
 are constantly putting old powers to new uses. 
 
 The word " sheep " may, then, suggest to the mind 
 of the little child a generic sense-idea. At a later 
 period, when its eyes, ears, mouth, head, trunk, legs, 
 and tail (if it have any left) have been indicated, and 
 their relations to each other and to the sheep as a 
 whole, together with the relation of the sheep to the 
 grass and the field, have been grasped, the word 
 " sheep " may suggest to the child a percept, an im- 
 pression or idea set in a background of perceived 
 relations. Yet later, when the child has begun to 
 generalise and to build the general results of the 
 analysis of many sheep into a synthetic concept, ftien 
 , the word " sheep " may symbolise the result of this 
 more complex mental process. The word " sheep " 
 '(and the same is true of common nouns in general) 
 may stand for a generic sense-idea, for a percept, or 
 for a concept. And when a child, who cannot as yet 
 tell us much, if anything, concerning his mental pro- 
 cesses, uses the word, it is extremely difficult to say 
 what stage of development his use indicates. 
 
 Classification takes its origin in combined analysis and 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 119 
 
 generalisation. In the fully-developed form to which 
 it would be well to restrict the word as a technical 
 term, it is a fully conscious and voluntary process a 
 process performed with the special end of classification 
 in view. No doubt, there is a preliminary involuntary 
 process which leads up to the consciously intentional 
 process. The child, who applies the same word " dog " 
 to a number of animals, differing somewhat markedly 
 from each other, but having certain distinctive features 
 in common, is carrying out a process which is pre- 
 liminary to and which leads up to classification. But 
 when, through the application of analysis, the child 
 pays attention to the number of legs this, that, and 
 the other animal possesses ; the dog and cat with four 
 legs, the bee and beetle with six legs, the crab, lobster, 
 and crayfish with ten legs, man and barndoor fowl 
 with two legs ; and when he has generalised the 
 knowledge thus acquired ; he is ready consciously and 
 intentionally to classify the animals into quadrupeds, 
 hexapods, decapods, and bipeds. The fully conscious 
 and intentional nature of the process is seen in the 
 fact that he is able to define the class in which he 
 places the objects classified. The class of quadrupeds, 
 he will say, comprises those animals which have four 
 legs, the class of decapods those which have ten legs. 
 The child should be exercised in conscious classifica- 
 tion, and in the clear definition of the classes. Ofv 
 course, quite simple cases should at first be selected. v 
 And here, again, scarcely any subject can be found 
 which will afford more satisfactory material for train- 
 
120 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 ing the child in classification than elementary observa- 
 tional botany. 
 
 Finally, we must glance at the relation of abstraction 
 to the processes we have been considering. We have 
 seen that in the process of analysis we make predomi- 
 nant now one, now another, constituent element in 
 that which we analyse. We give separate names to 
 these predominant elements that we distinguish. We 
 distinguish, for example, the yellow in the flower of 
 the gorse, and we give it the separate name " yellow." 
 The distinguishable colour sticks, so to speak, to the 
 separate name, and enables us to float it off in thought 
 from the flower which is yellow. In analysis we do 
 not get further than distinguishing the yellow, making 
 it predominant while the other qualities of the flower 
 are subordinate. But the use of the word " yellow " 
 helps us to do more than to distinguish : through its 
 aid we can to some extent separate this quality ; can 
 talk about it, and in some degree think about it, apart 
 from the flower which we perceive to be yellow. 
 Such an idea of quality separated off in s language, and 
 to some extent in thought, from the other qualities 
 with which it is normally associated, ^^cAstrac^idea ; 
 and the process bvwhich^we thus ^separata_it off is 
 termed abstraction. When we think, too, of the space- 
 relation which we term " a yard," apart from any 
 objects by which this relation of distance is exemplified, 
 we have an abstract idea of relation. 
 
 Abstraction and generalisation usually go hand in 
 hand. But they are not necessarily connected. I 
 
ANALYSIS AND GENERALISATION 121 
 
 remember the first flower of that beautiful orchid, the 
 Dysa grandiflora, which I plucked on the slopes of 
 Table Mountain. I could form to some extent an 
 abstract idea of its peculiar colour, which resembles no 
 other tint that I have ever seen. Such an abstract 
 i.dea would be particular, and not generalised. 
 
 Probably we differ a good deal in our power of 
 forming abstract ideas. For many of us abstract ideas 
 are remarkably vague and hazy, and have a strong 
 tendency to particularise themselves, when we try to 
 think clearly about them, in perceptual ideas, thus 
 ceasing to be any longer abstract. The words which 
 stand for these abstract ideas are the abstract nouns, 
 such as size, sweetness, colour, edibility, kindness, 
 virtue. But directly we begin to try and make them 
 clear to thought, a particular example is apt to become 
 focal. And in illustrating them to the child we are 
 forced to adduce particular examples ; we illustrate 
 weight by handing the child a heavy substance, colour 
 by pointing to the red of a rose, kindness by reference 
 to some kind action. Thus here, again, there is a con- 
 tinual play to and fro, from conception to perception, 
 and back again to conception. In this way do our 
 abstract ideas become floated off from particular cases 
 in which they are exemplified ; while the particular 
 cases themselves receive a new import and meaning as 
 practical embodiments of our abstract ideas. Thus 
 the particular is absorbed into the general body of our 
 knowledge; while our knowledge keeps in close touch 
 with practical experience. 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION. 
 
 THERE are two little words that are constantly on the 
 lips of children : How ? and Why ? The answer we 
 give to the first is a descriptive answer ; the answer 
 we give to the second is explanatory. We may 
 describe how an iron steamship floats upon water; 
 we explain why it floats notwithstanding its enormous 
 weight, and the fact that the materials of which it is 
 built are heavier than water. We may describe the 
 commercial greatness of London, the ships coming and 
 going, the lines of railway converging upon this centre, 
 the goods imported and exported, the varied occupa- 
 tions of its multitude of workers ; we may describe 
 how the town has grown in wealth and size during a 
 long period of years : but we explain why it is so 
 great, and why the growth and accumulation of wealth 
 have taken place in London and not elsewhere. We 
 may describe how the Battle of Waterloo was fought 
 and won ; and we may try to explain why it was 
 fought and why the French were defeated. 
 
 In both description and explanation we are dealing 
 
 'with relations; but in description the relations are 
 
 122 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 123 
 
 particular, while in explanation general relations are 
 involved. Try asm- describe anything you like, the 
 simplest fact, the simplest object, the simplest natural 
 occurrence, and see if you can do so without reference 
 to relations the particular relations involved in what 
 you are describing. If one describes the position of 
 an object, one is stating its relations in space to other 
 objects. If one describes the object itself, one must 
 refer to its size, shape, weight, and so forth, all of 
 which involve relations. The simplest occurrence has 
 its time-limitations, and cannot be adequately described 
 without some reference to them. Of course we are 
 supposing that the description has for its purpose a 
 suggestion, through the intervention of language, of 
 the real nature of that which is described. Even the 
 vaguest description must give some idea of this nature ; 
 and this is impossible without reference to the per- 
 ceived relations. The relations involved in description 
 
 I are, however, I repeat, particular and perceptual ; 
 
 I though they may be, and indeed usually are for 
 rational beings, set in a background of generalised 
 conceptual thought. This particular nature of the 
 relations involved in description may perhaps be 
 questioned. That an island is a tract of land entirely 
 surrounded by water is, it may be said, a perfectly 
 exact description of what an island is in general. It 
 is not a description- of a particular island, but holds 
 good for any island. The relations are generalised. 
 That a circle is a plane figure of which all the radii 
 'are equal is an exact description applicable to any 
 
124 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 circle. The general relations of all circles, not the 
 particular relations in any one circle, are described. 
 In strictness, however, we have, in these cases, not 
 descriptions, properly so called, but definitions. We 
 are not describing an island or a circle ; we are 
 defining the concept^ island or the concept circle. It 
 is, no doubt, merely a question of the exact sense in 
 which we are to use the word " description." But the 
 exact and accurate use of words begets exact and 
 accurate modes of thought, which cannot be too 
 sedulously cultivated by the teacher. Distinguishing, 
 then, as thus suggested, between the definition of 
 general concepts on the one hand, and description on 
 the other, we may say that the latter word, in its 
 more restricted sense, stands for a process by which 
 particular relations are set forth ; that it involves per- 
 ception, but does not necessarily involve more than 
 \perception ; though, since the language we employ is 
 full of general import, the description may be, and 
 usually is, set in a conceptual background. 
 
 In explanation, on the other hand, not only are we 
 always dealing with relations, but generalisation and 
 the conceptual element are always present. They are 
 necessary factors in the process. An explanation can 
 never be wholly particular and confined to particulars. 
 The relations peculiar and special to explanation are 
 those which we condense in such words as " therefore " 
 and "because." They are called logical relations. 
 Let us now see if we can give anything TiEeTir real 
 explanation without referent to the general and the 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 125 
 
 conceptual. Suppose I show a child that a cork 
 floats, and accompany my demonstration by a descrip- 
 tion. The child asks me why it floats. If I say, 
 " Because it stays at the top of the water," I am not 
 giving the child any real explanation of the fact. I 
 am merely describing the fact in other words. To 
 explain that it floats because it floats, is no explanation 
 at all. If I say, however, that it floats because it is 
 lighter than water, I seem to be giving an explanation 
 which is wholly particular ; in which I do not go 
 beyond this particular cork and that basin of water. 
 But even this is no true explanation. It will not 
 satisfy a quick-witted child. He will ask why its 
 being lighter than water makes it float. . We can only 
 answer this question by reference to certain general 
 properties of bodies in accordance with which they 
 invariably, if free to move among each other, arrange 
 themselves, under the influence of the earth's attrac- 
 tion, in order of weight from the greatest to the least. 
 
 Before proceeding further, let me say that it is of ^ 
 great imgprtance that the teacher should clearly grasp 
 the distinction between description and explanation, I 
 and should realise the fact of the invariably general " 
 nature of true explanation. It is one of the distin- 
 guishing features of good method in exposition that 
 description should be kept apart from explanation. 
 Many people use the two words without discrimination. 
 They say, " Let me explain to you where the book may 
 be found in the library"; or, "I will explain how you are 
 to do such and such a thing." Or they say, " We will 
 
126 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 now describe why it is that a stone falls to the 
 ground " ; or, " Describe how it is that a balloon rises in 
 the air." I have already noted that the word " describe " 
 is often used for "define." We see in examination papers 
 such questions as : Describe a cape, a promontory, an 
 isthmus; and so on. The true answer to this would 
 be to describe some particular cape, promontory, and 
 isthmus. But what is intended is : Define cape (not 
 a cape), promontory, isthmus ; and so on. 
 
 Both description and explanation presuppose some- 
 one to whom or for whose sake we describe and 
 explain. They refer to the action of the giver. Un- 
 fortunately, we have no two corresponding technical 
 terms for the answe^ing_action of the receiver. When 
 we mentally grasp either a description or an explana- 
 tion, we commonly say that we ^understand it. It 
 may be well, though much has been written on the 
 understanding in a technical sense, to employ this 
 word broadly and comprehensively, as is done in 
 common speech, and to use technical terms to corre- 
 spond respectively to description and explanation. 
 Both etymology and good authority would seem to 
 justify the use of the terms " apprehend " and " appr^- 
 hension" in correspondence to describe and descrip- 
 tion, and the use of " comprehend " and " compre- 
 hension " in correspondence to explain and explanation. 
 One who readily understands a description, then, has 
 good powers of apprehension ; one who readily under- 
 stands an explanation has good powers of compre- 
 hension.. 
 
DESCRIPTION- AND EXPLANATION 127 
 
 The next thing to notice with regard to description j 
 and explanation is that they both presuppose analysis, f 
 while explanation necessarily presupposes generalisa- \ 
 tion as well. We describe this pebble we have found 
 on the beach as oval, grey, moderately heavy, tolerably 
 hard, and made ortimestone. , In doing so, we make 
 predominant in succession the several salient features 
 of the object, and this, as we have seen, is just what 
 is characteristic of the process of analysis. In the 
 corresponding act of apprehension we take these 
 several features, given to us, from the nature of the 
 case, in succession, and combine them by an act of 
 synthesis into a whole. Not until the several features 
 are thus combined can we be said to apprehend the 
 description as a whole. Suppose a child asks, " Why 
 has the pebble this rounded form ? " We give him as a 
 preliminary answer, " Because it has been rolled about 
 by the waves." And if he then asks as we should 
 encourage him to ask " But why does the rolling of it 
 by the waves give it a rounded form ? " we should, if 
 opportunity occurs, take him down to the beach, show 
 him how the waves are rolling the pebbles over each 
 other and knocking them against one another ; describe v 
 in particular cases how each stone has its angles \ 
 knocked off and rubbed down ; and when he has 
 apprehended this description, get him to comprehend 
 the generality of the result. All the pebbles are thus 
 rounded. It is, given sufficient time, the universal 
 and uniform result of this mode of natural action. 
 When he has comprehended this generality of the 
 
128 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 effect produced, we give him the true explanation of 
 the rounded form : " Because the pebble has been 
 rolled about by the waves, and it is found that such 
 rolling always gives rise to a rounded form." This 
 explanation, and its due comprehension, involve 
 analysis, for we are making the shape predominant 
 to the temporary subordination of other features pre- 
 sented by the pebble ; and it presupposes generalisation, 
 for. we explain it by showing that it is a particular 
 example of the action of a general law. 
 
 Let us take another example to show how explana- 
 tion is the reference of the particular to the general. 
 A good many years ago, when I was a young student, 
 a clever lad in Cornwall asked me the old question, 
 " Why does a stone fall to the ground ? " Not wishing 
 to put him off with the long-sounding words, " Universal 
 gravitation," I replied, " Because it is heavy." " But a 
 feather is not heavy and yet it falls to the ground," 
 was the prompt answer. I replied that the feather 
 was relatively heavier than the air. The lad was 
 silent for a moment, and then said, " That's just one 
 of the things I want to know : does the air fall to the 
 ground and collect there like water in a pond, only we 
 cannot see it because we are in it and it is invisible ? " 
 I saw that this lad's powers of comprehension were 
 fully equal to the occasion, and explained the whole 
 matter as best I could. I told him that he was quite 
 right in supposing that the air, like the stone and 
 the feather, was attracted by the earth ; I pointed 
 out the universality of gravitation as a law of nature ; 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 129 
 
 and then reverting to his first question, I said, " You 
 now see that we explain the fall of the stone as a 
 particular case of the action of a law that is universal 
 in its generality." He was again silent for a moment, 
 and then asked, " But what makes the earth attract it 
 after all ? " I laughed, and said, " You're a philosopher ! 
 Nobody can answer that question. Perhaps you may 
 live to find it out, or at any rate to understand the 
 solution when it comes, as come it may." 
 
 The explanation of the fall of a stone by reference 
 to universal gravitation is a valid explanation ; but 
 the explanation is partial and incomplete, not final 
 and ultimate. We cannot give a final and ultimate 
 explanation of any of the phenomena of nature. We 
 explain this, that, or the other natural occurrence by 
 a reference from the particular to the general ; but if 
 we are asked, " Why are these general laws what we 
 find them to be ? " we can only reply, " Because that 
 is how nature is constituted." And if we are further 
 pressed with the question, " But why is nature thus 
 constituted ? " we can only, if we are honest, reply 
 that we do not know. Ultimate explanations are 
 beyond our reach. 
 
 Eemembering, then, that by explanation is meant 
 the reference of the particulars, which we seek to 
 explain, to such generalisations as are within the 
 reach of our mental grasp, we may next note that the 
 statements of these generalisations are what we term 
 natural laws. Such statements are of the nature of 
 definitions. We define the law of gravitation, for 
 
130 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 example, as follows : That attraction of any two 
 natural bodies for each other which is termed gravi- 
 tation is directly proportional to the sum of their 
 masses, and inversely proportional to the distance of 
 their centres of gravity. The generalisation thus 
 accurately denned forms the standard to which we 
 refer the particulars we wish to explain by its means. 
 It is a generalised summary of a great number of 
 particular observations; but it contains something 
 more ; it contains the assumption that this generalisa- 
 tion from a great, but still necessarily limited, number 
 of observations is universally true. That assumption 
 we can never conclusively prove ; we rest our assurance 
 of its truth on the fact that no single exception to its 
 validity has been established on the basis of exact 
 observation. Our attitude towards it may therefore 
 be thus expressed : We have found it to hold good 
 in a great number of particular cases, and shall assume 
 that it holds good in all cases until evidence to the 
 contrary is forthcoming. Our whole process of ex- 
 jplanation involves this assumption. We explain a 
 new instance of gravitational attraction by reference 
 to a generalisation from old instances ; and in doing 
 so we must assume that what holds good for the old 
 instances also holds good for the new instance. As 
 this is true of all explanation, from the simplest to the 
 most recondite, the teacher, who has many things to 
 explain, should clearly grasp the basis upon which his 
 procedure rests. 
 
 It is obvious that adequate description should 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 131 
 
 always be made the precursor to explanation. Not 
 to do so is to proceed on the method, not of education, 
 but of cramming. The explanation must never be 
 allowed to be a mere statement committed to memory, 
 and remembered, if remembered at all, through the 
 association by contiguity of its constituent parts. We 
 must always bear in mind that the comprehension of 
 the learner is to meet and embrace the explanation of 
 the teacher ; that comprehension involves generalisa- 
 tion ; and that generalisation is impossible unless the 
 particulars which form its raw material be supplied. 
 One of the difficulties the teacher has to face I 
 assume that he knows the subject he professes to 
 teach is that he possesses a background of knowledge 
 which is absent from the mind of his pupils. The 
 explanation for him is supported by a body of evidence 
 which he could at any moment summon from the 
 storehouse of memory, and the net result of which is 
 present in the background of his consciousness. The 
 explanation he gives is therefore, for him, real and 
 valid, because it is the result of generalisation from all 
 these particulars. He gives it to his pupils, and 
 expects it to be real for them. But it will not be 
 real unless he have stored the memory of those whom 
 he teaches with a sufficient body of evidence, the net 
 result of which is present in the background of their 
 consciousness. One of 'the commonest faults in ex- 
 position is the putting forward of explanations before 
 an adequate preparation in description has been system 
 atically affhrded. 
 
 i 
 
132 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 It must be remembered, too, that the adequate 
 apprehension of what is described with sufficient 
 fulness of detail, is after all only a second-hand way 
 of getting at the facts. Second-hand information, to 
 be of real value in mental development, must have a 
 first-hand basis in practical experience. Hence, if 
 description is a necessary precursor to explanation, so 
 too is a training in individual observation a necessary 
 accompaniment to description, however careful and 
 adequate. We can only rightly apprehend and, as we 
 say, fully realise, a description of that for which 
 individual observation has paved the way, by affording 
 to consciousness sense-impressions to be utilised re- 
 presentatively as sense-ideas. Descriptive geology, for 
 example, deals with the nature, mode of arrangement, 
 and fossil or mineral contents of the strata which are 
 exposed on the surface of the earth, and with the 
 manner in which these strata are worn away by rain 
 and rivers and the waves of the sea. Now, if the 
 student makes himself practically acquainted with the 
 strata in any district in which they are well exposed, 
 if he examines them along any stretch of varied coast- 
 line, if in actual contact with nature he perceives for 
 himself the relations of the strata in bay and promon- 
 tory, in hill and valley ; if, further, he have an oppor- 
 tunity of examining any volcanic district and the 
 relation therein of beds and dykes of lava to accumula- 
 tions of ashy debris; and if he become practically 
 acquainted with a district in which, as in Dartmoor, 
 great bosses of granite or other plutonic rock rise up 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 133 
 
 from amid surrounding strata ; if he have thus laid 
 the foundations in practical observation, and stored 
 his mind with sense-images and with perceptual ideas, 
 then he is in a position to apprehend any geological 
 description, whether the district described be in 
 Africa, Asia, or America. Without some such pre- 
 paration he will have no realising apprehension of 
 descriptions, no matter how vivid, since he will have no 
 first-hand experience in the light of which to interpret 
 that which he has not seen for himself, but which is 
 put before him through the description of another. 
 
 It is clear from what has just been said that 
 geology is not a subject which, unless in exceptional 
 circumstances, can be extensively utilised in affording 
 a training in observation as preparatory to and 
 associated with the apprehension of description. 
 There is no subject which, for this purpose, is more 
 convenient than elementary, observational, and de- 
 scriptive botany. The boy or girl who has carefully 
 observed, under guidance, the structure of a few 
 flowers, is in a position to apprehend the description 
 of a great number of flowers. Material for the pur- 
 pose is readily obtainable. The relations to be 
 perceived do not present great difficulties ; and the 
 parts can be dissected without that messiness which 
 makes zoological dissection insufferably distasteful to 
 many people. Furthermore, such observation and 
 the apprehension of description will lend a fresh 
 charm to field and hedgerow and garden, and will 
 lead up to the comprehension of p'cnoialisations of 
 
 f OF THE \ 
 
 (UNIVERSITTJ 
 
 Of / 
 
134 PSYCHOLOGY FOK TEACHERS 
 
 wide range and of deep interest. For in every 
 stage of mental development, observation, the appre- 
 hension of description, and the comprehension of 
 explanation should be made continually to play into 
 each other's hands. If observation leads up to appre- 
 hension, this faculty in return quickens observation ; 
 if apprehension is the necessary precursor to com- 
 prehension, this faculty gives a new meaning to all 
 that is apprehended, and a new zest to individual 
 observation. The teacher who realises this will so 
 arrange his course of instruction as to afford oppor- 
 tunities for the interaction of the several faculties 
 employed. 
 
 \ To observation in certain subjects we are able to 
 add experiment. In experiment we employ special 
 means to facilitate the observation of particular 
 phenomena. It is a means of analysis by which the 
 phenomena we wish to observe are, by artificial 
 methods, rendered predominant and brought within 
 easy reach of perception. There are certain pheno- 
 mena of nature which, by reason of their magnitude, 
 or by reason of their minuteness, by reason of the 
 slow sweep of their rhythm, or by reason of the 
 extreme quickness of their rhythm, do not readily 
 come within the range of our perception. These may 
 be illustrated by experimental methods. Other pheno- 
 mena, by reason of their intricacy under natural 
 conditions, are difficult of observation. Experiment 
 gets rid of the disturbing factors, brings out into 
 artificial prominence that which we wish to study. 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 135 
 
 and thus renders the exact observation of this pre- 
 dominant factor less difficult. 
 
 Elementary physics and very elementary chemistry J 
 are, of all subjects which deal with natural phenomena, I 
 the best for the purpose of affording a training in the 
 experimental method. The experiments should, so far 
 as possible, be from the first exact and quantitative, so 
 as to afford a training in the perception of numerical 
 and quantitative relations. Let us consider a simple 
 example in some detail, for the purpose of illustration. 
 We take a lath of boxwood, two feet long, to act as a 
 lever. Across the middle on the lower side is a notch 
 which fits on to a triangular fulcrum. The upper 
 surface of the lever is marked with a scale of inches, 
 extending on either side of the middle line above the 
 fulcrum, and numbered from this line outwards. We 
 have also a box of weights 10, 20, 30, 50, 60, and 
 100 grains. We now make experiments in balancing 
 the weights on the lever. We take first the 10 gr. 
 and the 20 gr. weights. Placing the 10 gr. at the 
 end of the lever on one side, where it is marked 12, 
 we at first put the 20 gr. weight in the same position 
 on the other side. The 20 gr. weight outbalances 
 the 10 gr. We shift it along towards the fulcrum, 
 and find that, when it just balances the 10 gr., it 
 is exactly over the 6 inch mark that is to say, it is 
 half the distance from the fulcrum of the 10 gr. 
 weight. We then put the 30 gr. at the end over the 
 12 inch mark; and, taking the 60 gr. weight, shift it 
 too along the lever. It balances the 30 gr. so soon 
 
136 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 as it is over the 6 inch mark. So that in each case 
 the double weight is at half distance. We at once 
 try the 100 gr. and 50 gr. weights in a similar 
 manner, and see that they exemplify the same rule. 
 Then we put the 30 gr. at distance 10 and the 60 
 gr. at distance 5, and again find that they balance. 
 We try the experiment in a number of ways ; and, 
 finding the rule always holds good, we lead the pupil 
 on to the generalisation The double weight must 
 always be placed at half the distance. When this 
 has been comprehended, we may put the experiment 
 on one side, and describe that if we put the 10 gr. 
 weight at the end of the lever, over the 1 2 inch mark, 
 we must place the 30 gr. weight over the 4 inch mark 
 on the opposite side. When the description is appre- 
 hended, we may show the experiment, and allow 
 observation to confirm the description. By further 
 descriptions, confirmed in each case by observation, we 
 may lead up to the wider generalisation (if the pupils 
 are at a sufficiently advanced stage to comprehend 
 it) That the distance is always inversely propor- 
 tional to the weight, exemplifying the generalisation 
 by describing how 3 times the weight must be placed 
 at ^ of the distance ; 4 times the weight at \ of the 
 distance ; and bringing it home to observation by 
 placing the 1 gr. at one end over the 1 2 inch mark, 
 and the 60 gr., which is 6 times the weight, over the 
 2 inch mark, which is \ the distance, and showing 
 that they balance. With more advanced pupils it 
 may be shown, by balancing the lever on a piece of 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 137 
 
 string instead of a fulcrum, that when the weights 
 balance they swing evenly round the central point, 
 the smaller weight performing the larger circle, the 
 greater weight a less circle. This central point is 
 called the common centre of mass of the system. 
 And in this way the experiment may be made to 
 illustrate the fact, that the earth and moon are 
 swinging round their common centre of mass, which, 
 since the mass of the earth is 80 times that of the 
 moon, is 80 times nearer to the centre of the earth 
 than to the centre of the moon. 
 
 It is not infrequently the case that when certain 
 natural phenomena have been carefully observed and 
 accurately described, two or more alternative explana- 
 tions are possible. Such alternative explanations are 
 termed hypotheses. To decide between them, we need 
 what is termed a crucial observation or experiment. 
 We see, for example, the sun, moon, stars, and planets 
 rise in the east, sweep across the heavens, and set in 
 the west. Now, it is a generalisation from a great 
 number of observations, that the apparent movement 
 of a body external to ourselves may be due (1) to the 
 actual movement of that body while we are stationary, 
 or (2) to our own actual movement, the external body 
 being stationary, or (3) to the difference between its 
 movement and our own. The apparent diurnal move- 
 ments of the sun, moon, and stars may be due, then, 
 to the rotation of the heavens round the earth, or to 
 the rotation of the earth, or to a difference between the 
 rotation of the heavens and that of the earth. These 
 
138 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 are the alternative hypotheses on which the observed 
 phenomena may be explained. In times gone by the 
 generally accepted hypothesis was that the heavens 
 rotated around the earth. Now, as we all know, the 
 accepted hypothesis is that the earth rotates on its 
 axis once in about twenty-four hours. What has 
 convinced us that this is the true explanation ? 
 What was the crucial observation or experiment ? 
 
 Suppose we set a pendulum swinging quite freely. 
 Then the direction of the plane of its swing will 
 remain unaltered unless something interferes with it 
 from without. Why should it alter? There is no 
 generalisation which enables us to answer this question 
 except by saying that there is no reason why it should 
 alter ; but, on the other hand, there is a very wide 
 generalisation to the effect that bodies remain in their 
 state of rest or of uniform motion, except in so far 
 as they are influenced from without. Let us, however, 
 put the matter to the test of experiment. Set a 
 pendulum (a weight at the end of a fine thread will 
 serve the purpose) swinging in a cage or in a pail. 
 Now, while it is swinging, turn the cage or the pail 
 round, making the point from which the weight is 
 suspended the axis of its rotation. You will find that 
 the plane of swing remains unaltered in direction. 
 Thus we obtain experimental proof of the constancy 
 of the plane of oscillation. We are now in a position 
 to apply experiment to our special problem. A long 
 heavy pendulum is suspended from a lofty ceiling, with 
 special precautions to secure perfect freedom of oscilla- 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 139 
 
 tion ; if now this be set aswinging at 1 2 noon, and 
 the direction of its swing be carefully noted, by 
 stretching a string, for example, beneath and parallel 
 with the swinging-point ; and if, after leaving it for 
 three hours, the pendulum and the string be again 
 observed, it will be found that the point is no longer 
 oscillating parallel with the string, but across it at 
 an angle the precise value of which depends on the 
 latitude of the place. Since, then, the plane of 
 oscillation of the pendulum has remained unaltered, it 
 must be the string that has moved. But the string 
 was fixed to the floor, and the floor to the solid earth. 
 Hence it is the earth that has twisted round. And it 
 can be shown that the amount of twisting is just that 
 which should be produced if the earth is rotating once 
 on its axis in twenty-four hours. This was the great 
 French physicist Foucault's crucial experiment. There 
 are others ; but this suffices for purposes of illustration. 
 I) The validity of an explanation may thus be estab- 
 lished by means of a crucial experiment or observation. 
 Let us now pass on to consider the special form in 
 which an explanation, so established, may be justified 
 at the bar of reason. This will enable us to see the 
 nature of those relations which we termed the logical 
 relations. 
 
 We have seen that explanation consists in a refer- 
 ence from the particular to the general. We explain, 
 to take a homely illustration, the mauled condition of 
 the fish on our breakfast-table, by saying that the cat 
 has been there, and confirm our explanation by the 
 
140 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 crucial observation that one of her footprints is im- 
 pressed on the tablecloth. But this would be no 
 explanation, though it might be a description of what 
 had taken place, if such thievishness were not a gen- 
 eral characteristic of ill-trained cats. Suppose that a 
 particular phenomenon, concerning which we are im- 
 pelled to ask the question "Why?" is altogether isolated, 
 and cannot be brought into touch with any known 
 generalisations ; then concerning it we can only say 
 that we are at present unable to explain it. The 
 most we can do is to describe the facts, and hope that 
 they may be explained hereafter by the discovery of 
 their relations to some of the generalisations which 
 form part of the body of assured knowledge. 
 
 Explanation, then, being the reference of the parti- 
 cular to the general, it becomes our duty to set forth 
 the nature of the generalisation and the relation of the 
 .particular thereto in the clearest and most effective 
 manner, in order that the grounds of our reference 
 may be made apparent and our explanation justified 
 to reason. This is done by means of a series of pro- 
 positions arranged in a special way, or in special ways. 
 A proposition is a direct statement arranged in the 
 clearest and most perspicuous form. Grammatically, 
 the proposition consists of subject and predicate, 
 together with certain words or phrases which qualify 
 or amplify the one or the other. And here it may 
 incidentally be said that grammatical analysis is of 
 the utmost service in enabling the pupil to perceive 
 the relations of words in a proposition, these relations 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 141 
 
 being the reflection in language of those which are 
 observable in that experience which language seeks to 
 describe. The subject of the proposition, which, as 
 before noted, musFlfre carefully~distmguished from the 
 subject of consciousness, indicates that of which some- 
 thing TJTToHSPpredicated, or that concerning which 
 the proposition is to be made. It may be either par- 
 ticular or general, according to the nature of the pro- 
 position, butf it is always indicative of the object 
 either of sensual, perceptual, or conceptual experience. 
 In being named, however, the object becomes at least 
 generic, if not general, in its nature. Tho_j>rediate 
 of the proposition may be either particularising or 
 generalising. 
 
 Now, suppose a child asks, " Why does that balloon 
 rise ? " We reply, " Because it is lighter than air." 
 The child asks, " Do all bodies lighter than air rise ? " ' 
 We reply, " Yes, they always rise, unless they are pre- 
 vented from doing so by being held down in some 
 way." Let us put this into logical form in a series of 
 propositions 
 
 All bodies lighter than air tend to rise in the 
 atmosphere ; 
 
 Balloons are bodies lighter than air ; 
 
 Therefore this balloon tends to rise. * 
 
 This series of propositions is termed a syllogism. 
 The first proposition is termed the major premise* 
 The subject is general : it embraces all bodies of what- 
 ever kind which are lighter than air. The predicate 
 is particularising. It particularises an ascertained 
 
142 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 fact with regard to the bodies which are lighter than 
 air. The major premise of another syllogism might 
 particularise another fact, such as the gaseous nature 
 of such bodies. The second proposition is termed the 
 minor premise. The subject is here either generic or 
 particular. It is particular, for example, in the 
 syllogism 
 
 All dogs are four-footed ; 
 
 Tony is a dog ; 
 
 Therefore Tony is four-footed. 
 
 The predicate in the minor premise is generalising. 
 In the example just given, by " Tony is a dog," we 
 mean that Tony belongs to that group of animals to 
 which we apply the general term " dog." The third and 
 final proposition is termed the conclusion. It is intro- 
 duced by the word " therefore," which is symbolic of 
 the logical relationship. The subject is here parti- 
 cular, and refers to the particular object concerning 
 which we seek an explanation. Or it may be generic, 
 where we seek an explanation of a number of similar 
 facts. It would have been generic in our first example 
 if the child had asked, " Why do balloons rise ? " The 
 predicate of the conclusion is particularising. We are 
 here applying the generalisation to the particular case, 
 or group of similar cases, concerning which an explana- 
 tion was to be given. Let us summarise the nature 
 of the propositions in a syllogism of the form w T hich 
 we have been considering. 
 
 \ Major premise. Subject general : predicate particu- 
 larising. 
 
DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 143 
 
 Minor premise. Subject generic or particular : pre- 
 
 dicate generalising. 
 Conclusion. Subject particular or generic : predi- 
 
 cate particularising. 
 
 Note how. the propositions of the syllogism bring 
 out the interaction of generalising conception and 
 particularising perception. Note that the order of 
 statement does not summarise, and is not meant to 
 summarise, the process of the acquisition of knowledge. 
 It leaves out of count altogether the method by which 
 the generalisation, with which it starts, was reached. 
 Let us supply this in a further example 
 
 ( This, that, and the other hive-bee stings ; 
 i All hive-bees that have been examined sting ; 
 ^-We assume that all hive-bees sting : 
 All hive-bees sting ; 
 This is a hive-bee ; 
 
 Therefore it stings. 
 
 Thus stated, the first three propositions exhibit the 
 induction, as it is termed, upon which the deduction 
 of the syllogism is based. We may note that the 
 assumed universality of the induction is, in the major 
 premise of the syllogism, made absolute and stated 
 ^without qualification, 
 
 Now, the validity of the syllogism and of the 
 inductive process by which its major premise is 
 reached, and the validity of the whole process of 
 reasoning which is therein stated in logical form, rests 
 
 upon the assumption of the uni|ormity_o^ 
 assumption which does but universalise the generalisa- 
 
144 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 tions of experience. It is quite clear that if the 
 operations of nature are not uniform in the matter of 
 hive-bees, I can neither assert with any confidence 
 that all hive-bees sting, nor have any assurance that 
 this hive-bee stings, since it may happen to be one of 
 the exceptions to uniformity. Secondly, this^yalidity 
 rests upon the uniformity of thought. If our concept 
 hive-bee is not uniform but fluctuating, if it have one 
 meaning in the major premise and another in the 
 minor premise, there will be no certainty in the con- 
 clusion. Thirdly, this validity rests upon the 
 uniformity of language, or of the terms in which we 
 express our thought. If the word " hive-bee " be not 
 uniformly associated with one concept, it may mean 
 one thing in the major premise, and another in the 
 minor premise, whereby our conclusion loses all cer- 
 tainty. Uniformity of nature, uniformity of thought, 
 and uniformity of terminology ;\ these form the tripod 
 upon which the " therefore " is firmly supported. The 
 uniformity of nature is beyond our control : it is 
 through failure in preserving uniformity of thought or 
 of terminology that we are apt to go wrong in reason- 
 ing. If, for example, we use the word " hive-bee " in 
 the major premise as inclusive of working-bees, but in 
 the minor premise as inclusive of the whole colony of 
 bees in a hive, queen, drones, and workers, then our 
 conclusion may or may not be true. If it is a queen 
 or a working-bee, it stings ; if it is a drone, it does not 
 sting. Such failures in preserving the uniformity of 
 our thought or of its expression are thfc source of what 
 
V T Jr 
 
 DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION 145 
 
 are termed fallacies^ One of the main advantages 
 of the syllogistic method of statement is that it 
 enables us more readily to detect such fallacies. If 
 we say 
 
 All laws are enactments ; 
 Universal gravitation is a law; 
 
 Therefore universal gravitation is an enactment ; 
 our reasoning involves a fallacy. For we are using 
 the word law in two different senses, or for two differ- 
 ent concepts. Human laws laws in the legal and 
 constitutional sense are enactments ; but natural 
 laws are generalisations from experience. 
 
 We are now in a position to define the terms 
 reason and reasoning. To reason is to pass from pro- 
 position to proposition (or their equivalents in thought) 
 with definite consciousness of the logical relations involved. 
 It presupposes a conception of the logical relation 
 expressed in such words as " therefore " and " because," 
 and a perception of its applicationiir^rticular cases. 
 Eeason may thnsHbe concisely detin^d^asj^e faculty 
 l>y wliicli we conceive and perceivefiherefore? To jump 
 to conclusions, be it never so accurately, is not to 
 reason ; to profit by the association of sense-experience, 
 be it never so cleverly, is not to reason. Either of 
 these processes may be performed without any concep- 
 tion or perception of the logical relation, as such. 
 But when once the child can conceive and perceive 
 " therefore," he has become a rational being. 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 
 
 WE have been dealing in the last five chapters wit 
 some of the factors of mental development on its 
 cognitive side, which comprises those conscious activi- 
 ties which lead up to intellectual knowledge. Let us 
 now look at mental development as a whole, review- 
 ing briefly what we have learnt concerning the cogni- 
 tive aspect of our conscious life, and introducing some 
 reference to the emotions and the will. 
 
 The first thing to notice is that mental development 
 is in many respects analogous to bodily development. ) 
 Each is a process of natural growth. Our minds 
 assimilate the results of our experience just as our 
 bodies assimilate the products of digestion. In each 
 case we are presented with the raw materials which 
 may be elaborated into the corporeal body on the one 
 hand, or into the mind and body of consciousness on 
 the other hand. The body is, however, a visible, 
 tangible entity ; while the mind is in its essential 
 nature invisible and intangible. The body is actually 
 existent at any moment in its entirety; the mind has, 
 for psychology, only a potential existence in its 
 
 146 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 147 
 
 entirety. What is actually existent beyond all ques- 
 tion at any moment, is the state of consciousness : the 
 rest of what we call the mind, with all its stores of 
 experience, is not or, let us rather say,' need not be 
 for psychology actually existent ; it need only have 
 a potential existence, in that the conditions for* its 
 emergence piecemeal into consciousness continue to 
 exist during healthy life. The question of the exist- 
 ence of the mind as an entity, not only distinct from 
 but separate from the body, is a philosophical question 
 into which we cannot enter here. It suffices for pur- 
 poses of purely psychological description and explana- 
 tion to assume that the continually existent conditions 
 are organic, and that the brain affords a physical 
 basis for all that we experience in our states of con- 
 sciousness. And in any case it is a practically < 
 observable fact that the maintenance of a healthy and 
 vigorous condition of the body, including the brain, is ' 
 essential for the healthy growth and development of \ 
 the mind. 
 
 Body and mind, then, are alike the products of 
 what we may term a natural synthesis. Eemember, 
 however, that we must distinguish this use of the 
 term " synthesis " for the designation of a natural 
 process, from our previous use of the same word for 
 the conscious and intentional putting together of the 
 results of our psychological analysis. That was a 
 voluntary process ; this is a process which is involun- 
 tary, and has its roots deep down amid, not only the 
 organic, but even the inorganic operations of nature. 
 
148 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 The union of elementary substances to form a chemical 
 compound, as in the case of the carbon that burns to 
 form carbonic acid gas ; the grouping of molecules to 
 form a crystal, as in the case of the crystallised sugar 
 obtained by slowly evaporating syrup ; the formation 
 of blood, muscle, bone, and other organic tissues, as in 
 the case of the hen's egg, which after three weeks' 
 incubation becomes a fully -formed chick ; these all 
 illustrate the operations of a process of synthesis 
 which appears to be one of the widest and most 
 universal laws of nature, or generalisations from ex- 
 perience. Body and mind are, I repeat, alike the 
 results of an analogous process of natural synthesis. 
 And my motive for thus emphasising this fact is that 
 we may clearly understand what the teacher may hope 
 to do, and what he must not hope to do, if hope is 
 to be followed by fulfilment. 
 
 The office of the teacher is to supply the most 
 favourable conditions for the natural process of mental 
 development. What we may hope to do is thus to 
 minister to nature;- what we must not hope to do is, 
 as the proverb has it, to make a silk purse out of a 
 sow's ear. We can do little for the geniuses, except 
 to be very careful not to stand in their way ; we can- 
 not do much for the dunces, except to help them to 
 realise where their weakness lies, and where their 
 strength for your dunce intellectually is often 
 capable of excellent work of the right sort ; our real 
 field of effort lies among the mediocrities, those who 
 are gifted with average faculties, which they would 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 149 
 
 jail to develop without assistance and guidance. 
 Our office is to encourage the development of these 
 faculties, and provide the proper raw material on 
 which they may exercise their elaborating power. 
 Here, again, the analogy of bodily development is 
 helpful. We give a child the opportunity of assimi- 
 lating the right sort of stuff; we withhold noxious 
 materials ; and the child grows and develops. This 
 is a purely individual matter, and cannot be performed 
 vicariously. So, too, we may give a child the oppor- 
 tunity of assimilating the right sort of experience, and 
 withhold noxious experience. But the actual process 
 of assimilation, that must be left to the child and to 
 nature. We may minister to nature, but we cannot 
 
 perform her office. There is one thing, however, that 
 
 . 
 
 we unfortunately can do. We can induce a child to 
 take into his mouth, with no attempt at assimilation, 
 a number of phrases which sound like knowledge ; 
 which are, indeed, the products of knowledge, but not 
 his knowledge, since they have never been digested and 
 assimilated by him. This is cramming. The stuff so 
 crammed is like the earthy substance some savages 
 are said to give to their children, which does but 
 swell out their little stomachs without ministering to 
 digestion. To provide this is not the office of the 
 teacher. He insists, indeed, upon a good deal of rote- 
 work and getting by heart, but all with the end of 
 true assimilation in view. 
 
 And it is the office of the teacher to supply the 
 conditions for all-round development. We are terribly 
 
150 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 apt to get mentally lopsided. We are almost sure to 
 become so, more or less, when we come to what are 
 termed often, alas ! with hidden irony years of dis- 
 cretion. The teacher should do his best to see that 
 those to whose mental development he ministers 
 shall, at any rate in the early stages of growth, have 
 opportunities of development in all reasonable and 
 right directions. 
 
 Let us now revert to the fact, so often insisted on, 
 that the state of consciousness includes not only a 
 focus, but also a margin ; not only the central object of 
 consciousness, but a background in which that object 
 is set. The state of consciousness at any moment in 
 any individual is a complex product which is dependent 
 upon the whole previous mental development in that 
 individual. The objects of sense, * as such, undergo 
 little or no change from our early years till our old 
 age, when the organs of sense are becoming enfeebled, 
 and their products in consciousness are growing dim. 
 The objects of perception and conception change little 
 from youth, when our mental powers are mature, to 
 the end of our life. But the background in which 
 these objects are set that changes as the months and 
 years roll by ; and with it, of course, the relation of 
 the focal object to the marginal background. It is 
 the nature of the mental background that determines 
 the temperament we are of, and the mood we are in ; 
 sickness or health, freshness or fatigue, affect the 
 background to a far greater degree than the actual 
 focus of consciousness. The mental background is 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 151 
 
 the seat of the character ; herein lies our wisdom or 
 our foolishness, our stability of purpose or our weak- 
 ness. This it is which, in any moment of conscious- 
 ness, is enriched from our stores of memory through 
 associations by contiguity or suggestions by similarity 
 in any moment of consciousness. And this it is 
 to the development of which the teacher should 
 minister. 
 
 . In the last five chapters we have been dealing 
 chiefly with the focus of consciousness ; for though it 
 is by no means universally true that it is only through 
 the focal gate that elements of consciousness can gain 
 admittance to the marginal background, still it is 
 true that a very large proportion of the background 
 has passed through that focal gate. It is chiefly 
 with the focus of consciousness, too, that the teacher 
 can directly deal; but he should so deal with it 
 as to have constant reference 1 to the development 
 of the mental background. For, as we claim, the 
 province of education is to cultivate the mind as 
 a whole; but the mind as a whole is a potentiality 
 of existence of which the mental background in 
 any moment of consciousness is, for psychology, the 
 actually existent sample. The background in which 
 the object is set is, at any given moment, the actual 
 representative of all the potentiality of the mind. 
 What is to be said in this chapter in further elucida- 
 tion of mental development must have reference largely 
 to the background of consciousness. 
 
 First let us inquire what we inherit. What is our 
 
152 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 mental stock in trade to start with ? It may sound 
 paradoxical to answer, Our mental stock in trade is 
 a body and brain. Such answer, however, probably 
 best indicates the facts. We do not come into the 
 world with any actual mental stock in trade, but 
 in body and brain we inherit the potentja^y of all 
 our future mental development. If objection be taken 
 to the word " potentiality/' let us substitute for it the 
 phrase " organic conditions." The matter may per- 
 haps be made clearer by an analogy. We may liken 
 the mind to the flower of our life's growth. Now, the 
 seed and seedling inherits no actual flowers ; but it 
 inherits certain organic conditions which render the 
 ' development of flowers in due course a matter of 
 natural sequence. And the nature of these flowers 
 down to the minutest details is, except in the matter 
 of differences individually acquired, part of its natural 
 heritage. In like manner the body and brain are the 
 organic basis and condition of the future mental 
 development; and this is what the babe inherits. 
 But here too the flower of his mental growth down to 
 the minutest details is, except in the matter of differ- 
 ences individually acquired, part of his natural heritage. 
 He inherits no visual ideas, no auditory ideas, no ideas 
 of touch, taste, or smell ; but he inherits the conditions 
 for the occurrence of sense-impressions ; and as the 
 special senses are called into play by the stimuli of 
 the surroundings, .sense-impressions are produced, and 
 the development of sense-experience commences. We 
 know very little concerning the exact manner in which 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 153 
 
 / 
 
 the ordering of sensory data into a consistent body of 
 sense-experience takes place ; for this ordering is well 
 1 established by the time we are two years old, and this 
 period marks for most of us the extreme backward 
 limit . of memory. But during this period there has 
 been developed in some way, by some process of 
 natural synthesis, a body of sense-experience which in 
 any moment of consciousness furnishes a sensory back- 
 ground in which new sense-impressions are set, being 
 thus raised to the level of what we termed sencepts, 
 and to which these new impressions bear definite 
 relations, though these relations may not as yet be 
 definitely perceived. 
 
 But not only do the special senses contribute data to 
 sense-experience. Our bodies respond to the stimuli 
 they receive, and respond in ways which are from the 
 first more or less definite through inheritance. Such 
 responses, when they are from the first quite definite, 
 are termed instinctive. The more complete the organic 
 development of an animal at birth, the greater the 
 number of definitely instinctive activities it inherits. 
 The bee emerges from its chrysalis sleep in a highly 
 developed condition, and at once performs its instinctive 
 activities. Many instinctive activities are observable 
 in the newly -hatched chick. The human infant is 
 relatively far less perfectly developed. There are 
 fewer definitely instinctive activities. But the child 
 inherits innate tendencies to respond to stimuli in 
 more* or less definite ways. These are accompanied 
 by consciousness. The net results of complex activities 
 
154 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 that is, activities which involve a complex play of 
 muscular contractions stir our consciousness as wholes, 
 not in their varied details. Using the word feeling, in 
 its most inclusive sense, for any element or group of 
 elements in consciousness, we may apply the term 
 activity-feelings to the effects in consciousness of active 
 responses to stimuli. These activity - feelings, the 
 conditions of which are inherited, are woven into the 
 body of sense-experience, in the process of natural 
 synthesis, and become ordered in due relation to the 
 data afforded by the special senses. Thus the sensory 
 background in which new sense-impressions and new 
 activity-feelings are set, and to which these new objects 
 of consciousness bear definite relations, is already of 
 considerable complexity, comprising not only data 
 afforded by the special senses, but also data afforded 
 by the motor elements, all tff them duly ordered into 
 a self-consistent whole. 
 
 We have now briefly to consider these states of 
 consciousness from a different point of view. Hitherto 
 we have been regarding them in their cognitive aspect. 
 The term " cognitive " is perhaps in strictness to be 
 applied only to that which concerns knowledge ; and 
 knowledge, as we have seen, involves conception. We 
 may, however, conveniently extend the term " cogni- 
 tive " to that aspect of sense - experience which is the 
 precursor of knowledge properly so called. If we do 
 not adopt this plan, we must coin some such new term 
 as " pre-cognitive " ; and we have terms enough to deal 
 with as it is without inventing new ones. The 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 155 
 
 cognitive aspect of experience with which we have 
 been dealing gives the form and grouping of the 
 picture of consciousness ; the emotional aspect, to 
 which we must now turn our attention, ^ives the colour 
 and tone of the picture. And just as the artist in 
 oils uses the same materials to express both form and 
 colour, so is it in consciousness. The same impressions 
 and ideas in the focus, the same background of sensory 
 and motor elements, which we have been considering 
 in their cognitive aspect, present us also with the 
 emotional aspect, when we fix our attention not on 
 the form and grouping, but on the colouring of the 
 mental picture. We have not to deal with a new 
 group of emotional impressions and ideas, but with a 
 new aspect one which we have so far intentionally 
 neglected of our states of consciousness. It is now 
 our duty to make this aspect predominant through 
 analysis. 
 
 We may speak of the colouring of our states of 
 consciousness as emotional tone. The phrase is by no 
 means altogether satisfactory, but it may serve till 
 some other wins its way to general acceptance. It 
 includes not only that colouring which we describe 
 as pleasurable and painful, but also a great number of 
 shades which are, so to speak, made of the same stuff 
 as pleasure and pain, but which could not be grouped 
 under either of these heads. It is difficult to say 
 whether anger and pity, both of which are suffused 
 with emotional tone, are pleasurable or painful. They 
 may be either, or neither, or perhaps both ; for there 
 
156 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 is a painful pleasure in anger, and a sweet pain in 
 pity. What we speak of as excitement may be 
 pleasurable, or painful, or neither the one nor the 
 other, and yet full of emotional tone. 
 
 It is characteristic of emotional tone that it diffuses 
 itself over the whole state of consciousness. Pain, 
 especially acute pain, due to some definite organic 
 mischief, such as a deep cut or a toothache, may be 
 concentrated in the focus of consciousness ; but this 
 acute pain due to physical injury should, I think, be 
 placed in a class by itself, and distinguished from 
 the more general emotional tone with which we are 
 dealing. Setting that aside, it is, I repeat, character- 
 istic of emotional tone that it is diffused over the 
 whole state of consciousness. And this is especially 
 true of those states which are par^excellence termed the 
 emotions. Much may, indeed, be said in favour of the 
 view, to which I personally more and more incline, 
 that the emotional tone is mainly, in such cases, a 
 matter of the background of consciousness. What is 
 in focus is the object which excites the emotion. One 
 object excites anger, another surprise, another fear, 
 another interest, another aversion, and so on. Each 
 calls up its special background, and therein, of course 
 in its relation to the focal object, lies the main body of 
 the emotional tone. And this emotteftal toiissi^very 
 largely, probably we may say predominantly, associated^- 
 with what we termed activity - feelings, either pre- 
 sentative or re-presentative. Thus the emotion of 
 anger involves the re-presentative suggestion, in the 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 157 
 
 background of consciousness, of those activity-feelings 
 which accompany certain forms of vigorous action to 
 which we have an innate tendency. When this re-pre- 
 sentative suggestion is strong, there follows a faint 
 repetition of this action, which is termed the "expression 
 of the emotion." And this faint action presentatively 
 strengthens the re-presentative emotion. Thus by 
 action and reaction we may, as we say, work ourselves^ 
 up into a passion. The emotion of dread involves the 
 re-presentative suggestion of that state of muscular 
 collapse which would appear to be in the first instance 
 a purely organic and physical effect. When this re-pre- 
 sentatwe suggestion is strong, there follows a faint 
 tendency to such collapse, and this again presentatively 
 strengthens the re-presentative emotion. We call this 
 " giving way " to the emotion ; and it is well known 
 that such giving way may result in complete collapse. 
 The emotions, then, m-so far as they are due to 
 activity-feelings in their aspect of emotional tone, may 
 be either presentafcive or re-presentative, or partly the 
 one and partly the other. 
 
 Now, the control of which we spoke in the third 
 chapter is essentially a motor control. Whether we 
 can control the course of our thoughts is a matter 
 upon which there is want of agreement. But all agree 
 that we can exercise motor control over our muscular 
 activities. Note, then, the bearing of this fact upon * 
 what is termed self-control in the matter of the emotions.* 
 It may be doubtful whether we can exercise control 
 over the emotion as purely re-presentative, but there 
 
158 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 .: is no doubt that we can exercise control over the 
 motor expression of the emotion. We can check that 
 clenching of the fists, setting of the teeth, and general 
 tightening up of the muscles, which anger as re-pre- 
 sentative tends to call forth. We thus prevent that 
 reinforcement of the emotion by the additionjihereto 
 of presentative elements, which leads to the passion 
 gaining sway over us. So, too, with grief. We can- 
 not, when death has snatched from us our nearest and 
 dearest, banish sorrow from our mind ; memories crowd 
 in on the background of our consciousness and will not 
 be gainsaid. But we can exercise self-control over the 
 expression of our grief. These are elementary and 
 familiar facts, but they should be steadily borne in 
 mind by the teacher. That habits of self- control xan 
 
 1 be acquired stands almost beyond question. It is the 
 office and privilege of the teacher to assist in and 
 encourage the acquisition of such habits. 
 
 The introduction of the element of control has led 
 us on to the third point of view from which states of 
 consciousness may be considered, that of volition or 
 the will. Authorities differ as to whether or not there 
 are special elements in consciousness due to the exer- 
 cise of control. Personally I am inclined to believe 
 that there are ; but the matter is too technical for 
 discussion here. Nor is such discussion needful; for 
 the will is essentially a practical faculty. Let us, 
 however, note clearly the relations of what we have 
 
 termed the three aspects of the state of consciousness. 
 The cognitive aspect is essentially objective ; it deals 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 159 
 
 with the object of consciousness in relation to the 
 existing mental background. The emotional aspect is 
 essentially subjective ; it deals with the emotional 
 tone of our own states of consciousness. It is the 
 fountain-head^of ~action,~"and leads, if unchecked and 
 uncontrolled, to that mods of activity which we term 
 impulsive. The volitional aspect is essentially active 
 and controlling ; it is in close touch with thej^ognitive 
 obj ective aspect^ on the one 1 hand, and with the 
 emotional and impulsive aspect on the other hand ; 
 it holds impulse in check in the light of an extended 
 cognition. The impulsive emotions are like spirited 
 horses in the coach, or more prosaic omnibus, of life ; 
 volition is the coachman, now reining in, and now 
 whipping up the horses. Both the horses and the 
 coachman employ their cognitive powers, but the 
 latter with wider view and more foresight. And any 
 mismanagement or upsetting of the coach or omnibus 
 may damage many people, and be a social evil. Even 
 if we are independently driving our own dogcart, mis- 
 management may derange the whole traffic. The 
 analogy is not altogether satisfactory ; we must fuse 
 our coachman and horses into a sort of mythical 
 centaur, to represent the essential unity of conscious- 
 ness in its three aspects, cognitive, emotional, and 
 volitional. 
 
 The practical word of advice in the matter of the 
 training of the will is Eemeniber that control is. at any 
 rate primarily, a faculty that deals with motor activities. 
 And remember that it is iix trivial matters and un- 
 
160 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 essential activities that a power of control can most 
 readily be acquired. Do not expect your coachman 
 to hold in check a spirited horse, if he haS^ had no 
 practice on inoffensive donkeys, quiet old ponies, and 
 easy-going cobs. Do not expect a lad to exercise self- 
 control in the stress of strong temptation and hot 
 impulse, if he have had no training in motor control 
 when the temptation was scarcely felt and the 
 impulse no stronger than a slight leaning or inclina- 
 tion. Just as habits of obedience are fostered by 
 insisting on absolute conformity to our instructions in 
 all things, no matter how unimportant ; so are habits of 
 self-control fostered by encouraging frequent exercise 
 of the faculty in the little daily actions of ordinary life, 
 no matter how trivial. 
 
 Let us return now to the cognitive aspect of states 
 of consciousness. For the affording of training in 
 matters of skill we speak of instruction, with its 
 accompanying practical demonstration. We also speak 
 
 ' of demonstrating a theorem, say- in Euclid. This pro- 
 'cess consists in proving, in particular instances, the 
 validity of a generalisation which is clearly and 
 concisely enunciated. The two uses of the word 
 " demonstration " should be carefully distinguished. 
 Practical demonstration consists in showing how a 
 thing is to be done, instead of only describing how it 
 is to be done. Its correlative is imitation. In that 
 
 /branch of education which comprises instruction in", 
 matters of skill, a little practical demonstration is 
 more helpful than much description. For the per- 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 161 
 
 fecting of skill continued practice is essential. The 
 accomplishment of alskllled act i^usually^ccompanied 
 by the emotional tone of satisfaction. The child is, 
 however, apt to be somewhat easily satisfied ; and it is 
 the office of the teacher to lead his pupil on to be 
 satisfied only with the best performance. One of the 
 characteristics of a successful man, in the truest sense 
 of the- word " successful," is that he is dissatisfied with 
 even his best performances, and seeks to attain satis- 
 faction by bettering them. This_js that " noble dis- 
 content " which_constantly spurs a man on to higher 
 and more strenuous endjeavour. It should therefore 
 be the aim of the teacher to foster the development in 
 the background of consciousness of this right and help- 
 ful sort of dissatisfaction which prompts to higher 
 perfection. The healthy competition of games is of j\ 
 ((treat value in contributing to this development. This 
 is one of the points in which the educational" influence 
 of our great public schools is so valuable. And since 
 all improvement in skill is effected through the 
 application of motor control, it is clear that we have 
 here also a wide field for the training of the will. Y, 
 Lack of improvement is often due to mere weakness . ] / 
 of will ; there is an amiable wish to do better, but the^r 
 application of control is wanting. Whether a teacher 
 can do much to strengthen a naturally weak will is a 
 question that is perhaps open to discussion. But he 
 can, at any rate, encourage control in matters of skill 
 in which the opposing force to be overcome is rather 
 indolence than strong emotional impulse, 
 
 OF THE 
 
162 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 y 
 
 We may apply the terra information to that which 
 is given and received through oral or written descrip- 
 tion. Those who can readily absorb and retain the 
 information imparted to them may be said to have 
 good powers of receptivity. It may perhaps be said, 
 without either injustice or exaggeration, that of all 
 branches of modern education this is the easiest, the 
 commonest, and the least valuable from the standpoint 
 of mental development. People nowadays, of all ages 
 and of all classes, are athirst for information, and the 
 means of providing it are multiplied exceedingly. 
 Nor should we undervalue such information. It is 
 the stuff of which knowledge is made, or, let us rather 
 say, the stuff which, in correlation with individual 
 observation and individual generalisation, contributes 
 \ to the making of knowledge. There . is, moreover, no 
 more delightful companion than the well-informed 
 man. But it is only one factor, and that not the most 
 important factor, in education. The danger is lest it 
 should be regarded as all-sufficing. 
 
 Assigning to it, therefore, its true place in the 
 educational scheme, encouraging the constant checking 
 of information by personal observation whenever 
 opportunity occurs, and insisting upon the due exercise 
 of the generalising faculty of conception and the 
 particularising faculty of perception on the materials 
 supplied through the channels of information, it is the 
 loffice of the teacher to do all in his power to see that 
 'the informatLon_j^^cc^^ Informa- 
 
 tion is mainly descriptive. The demand for it implies 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 163 
 
 a special attitude of mind, which we may term the 
 " how " attitude. This is most valuable. We ought 
 to endeavour to establish in the minds of our pupils 
 a, permanent background of " how ? " so that of every 
 object we see and of every fact we are told, the 
 question, How is it related to other objects or to 
 other facts ? at once suggests itself. If possible, it is 
 better to answer the question " how " by observation ; 
 but, failing that, information must be accepted as a 
 substitute. The emotional tone associated with the 
 " how " attitude is what we term interest. And the 
 importance of interest in education is too familiar to 
 need special illustration. What I am here anxious to 
 show is that this " how " attitude, with its emotional 
 Jtone of interest, should be so woven into the margin of 
 consciousness as to become part of the permanent 
 mental background of character. 
 
 Before passing on to point out that we should 
 endeavour to establish not only a " how " attitude with 
 its descriptive interest, but also a " whj: " attitude with 
 its interest in explanation, a few lines may be devoted , 
 to the importance of correlating the faculties of ' 
 observation and description. It is one thingjto observe 
 well, and anQtherthmg_to__^iiribfi welL-the obserEar. 
 tions we have made. But for purposes of knowledge, 
 which is not only a personal and individual matter, 
 but of general and social validity, individual observa- 
 tion has -to be translated into accurate description in 
 order that the results of the observation be rendered 
 socially accessible. Hence the pupil should be trained 
 
164 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 not only to observe but jto_flp,ap.rihp. his observations. 
 When such correlation of the two faculties has been 
 established, not only will observation tend to clothe 
 itself in description in the moment of practical ex- 
 perience, but description, read or heard, will tend to 
 call up images of observations similar to "those that 
 are described. 
 
 What was spoken of just now as the " why " attitude 
 is analogous to the " how " attitude ; but it requires 
 not a descriptive answer, but an explanation. Such a 
 mental attitude is natural to a rational being. But there 
 are many people, old as well as young, who appear to 
 have a much keener appetite for scraps of information 
 and superficial description than for either thorough 
 information, full and accurate description, or explana- < 
 tion in any of its wider and deeper phases. The 
 minor newspapers, that consist of a heterogeneous 
 and disjointed series of snippets, minister to and 
 encourage this kind of mental appetite, and foster a 
 flabby and inconsequent habit of mind. Furthermore, 
 the constant reading of a number of scrappy para- 
 graphs, the contents of which one has neither the wish 
 nor the intention to remember, weakens the memory, 
 while it impairs the mental digestion. The encourage- 
 ment of the "why" attitude and of the desire for 
 explanation may do something to check this tendency, 
 and may foster the development of a logical back- 
 ground. For just as the " how " attitude at its best 
 leads up to habits of exact observation and accurate 
 description, so does the " why " attitude at its best 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 165 
 
 lead up to habits of consistent, logical thought and 
 clear explanation. The rational being, as such, is 
 characterised by the fact that his mental background 
 is ordered in accordance with logical relationships, 
 so that any object of thought or experience at once 
 assumes its true position in a logical field a field of 
 generalisations which can be rapidly brought to bear 
 upon the particular object immediately in focus. 
 
 But there is something which may be ranked higher , "" 
 than reason and the logical faculty, to which reason J 
 and logic minister. It is that which in its varied 
 
 1 pjiases is sometimes termed insight, sometimes imagina- 
 tion 9 sometimes intuition, sometimes inspiration (in * 
 the non-religious sense). It is perhaps of all mental 
 
 faculties the most difficult to describe, t'o define, and 
 to explain. It is that faculty by which new thought 
 is brought^ into existence. The thought may not be 
 new to the race, but in any case it is new to the 
 individual. Hence it is rightly termed the creative ) 
 
 i faculty. Of course the new thought is the product 
 of the interaction of old materials. We have every 
 reason to believe that it is a natural product ; we 
 may regard it, in fact, as a specialised result of that 
 process of natural synthesis to which allusion, has 
 before been made. Just as from a solution of alum 
 in water, crystals are formed by natural process of 
 synthesis under appropriate conditions, so from a 
 solution of experience in thought new ideas crystallise 
 out under appropriate conditions. The alum crystals 
 are new to that solution, though not new to natural 
 
 
166 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 existence ; so may the idea be new to the individual 
 mind though not new to human thought. But if we 
 are experimenting with new groupings of old materials 
 under new conditions (as is done daily in chemical 
 laboratories), then there may result crystalline sub- 
 stances new to natural existence. And if new 
 groupings of old experience, including perhaps also 
 new observations, are held in the solvent thought of 
 a mind of exceptional capacity and activity, there may 
 crystallise out ideas new to man. - 
 
 Insight and the higher creative imagination come, 
 1 1 however, too little within the scope of the ordinary 
 'operations of the teacher to justify more than a bare 
 mention of them here. In its lower ranges the 
 faculty does concern us in some degree ; and a few 
 words concerning intuitive procedure, how it may be 
 fostered, and how it may be brought into relation 
 with other mental processes, will not be out of place. 
 Intuitive procedure is what we commonly term " jump- 
 ing to conclusions." The conclusion is often right, 
 though how we reached it, and why we reached it, 
 we are unable to say. Presumably it is largely a 
 subconscious operation, a direct product of the mental 
 background the details of which we are unable to 
 make focal. And probably it is of the same nature 
 as the suggestions by similarity of relationship which 
 were spoken of in the ^second chapter. Certainly those 
 in whom this mode of suggestion is strongly developed 
 are those who most often exhibit intuitive procedure. 
 Hence to foster the faculty, which in due restraint is 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 167 
 
 a valuable one, we must encourage this mode of 
 suggestion. Arid we can best encourage it by being 
 careful not to check it, but to guide it. Children are 
 often highly imaginative ; and nothing is commoner 
 than for the unimaginative teacher to ruthlessly snub 
 down the imagination of the child which is, indeed, 
 a delightfully simple operation, requiring neither ex- 
 perience nor tact. No doubt the imagination is often 
 wild and wayward ; but our duty is to train ify 
 
 it And unfortunately the former is 
 
 a far more difficult thing to do than the latter. 
 Snubbing is so easy ; the helpful guidance of the 
 imagination so difficult. One cannot give rules for 
 such guidance ; it is a matter of tact in individual 
 cases. 
 
 But unquestionably reason is the ballast by which 
 the imagination is to be steadied and balanced. The 
 conclusion to which we jump by intuitive procedure 
 must be justified by logic at the bar of reason. We 
 may not know how and why we reached the conclusion 
 in the first instance ; but we must be able to show 
 how and why that conclusion may be justified and 
 proved to be valid. Thus logic is the afterthought to 
 insight. Thus reason ministers to inspiration. The 
 wild and wayward flights of imagination must be 
 restrained < within the limits of either the natural 
 relations of the universe in which we live, or the 
 assumed relations of the universe our imagination 
 creates. In a word, the products_oJLjhe imagination 
 must be self-consistent. Paradise Lost is one of our 
 
168 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 most splendidly imaginative poems ; but it is also 
 wonderfully self-consistent. Lofty 
 
 dered self-consistent by reason, is__tha^ .a.tf-.rihntft_nf 
 what weTeraTgenius! ^ 
 
 The ^creative imagination of the jrreat artist, be he 
 poet, painter, musician, or other, carries with it a 
 special quality of emotionaljone ; while the receptive 
 imagination of those to whom his art appeals, carries 
 with it the same quality. This is what is termed 
 aesthetic tone. Like emotional tone in general, of 
 which it is a species, it is mainly a matter of the 
 mental background. We feel on reading a poem, 
 looking at a picture, or hearing a symphony, tjiat the 
 whole body of our consciousness is thrilling with 
 emotional tone. We shall return to this point in the 
 ninth chapter, when we shall consider literature as an 
 example of art, and shall say somewhat more con- 
 cerning the special nature of the aesthetic tone which 
 it calls forth. It is one of the richest products of 
 mental development ; we should do all in our power 
 to foster it. 
 
 And in the creative imagination of the great artist 
 the influence of the will and of self-control is shown 
 in the self-consistency enforced on the product in 
 conformity with the dictates of reason. Nowhere 
 more completely than in the work of the great artist 
 do we see cognition, emotion, and will conspiring to 
 , reach the highest product of mental development. If ' 
 we can only get our pupils to sit at the feet of these 
 great masters, to breathe somewhat of their spirit, and 
 
MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 169 
 
 to learn of them, we shall be doing for them the best 
 that can be done. The teacher should be to the taught 
 the faithful interpreter of nature and of art an inter- 
 mediary whose office it is to show the pupil how to 
 learn for himself at these two fountain-heads. 
 
 Nothing has been said, unless indirectly, on one 
 most important aspect of mental development the 
 social aspect. That will be reserved for special con- 
 sideration in the last chapter. Enough has perhaps 
 been adduced in this chapter to show that mental 
 development is not only a matter of cognition, but 
 also of the emotions and the will; that it is not only 
 a matter which concerns the focus of consciousness, 
 but that it is mainly a development of that mental 
 background which is, at the moment of consciousness, 
 the actual representative of the whole potentiality of 
 the mind. 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT. 
 
 EDUCATION begins in the nursery. There the child 
 acquires his first practical acquaintance with the 
 natural and other objects by which he is surrounded. 
 He senses, though he may not yet be able to perceive, 
 the relations which they bear to himself and to one 
 another. There the raw material of knowledge and 
 thought begin to accumulate. At the same time, the 
 child grows up in what we may term an atmosphere 
 of language. He is not only directly taught the 
 use of words through association by contiguity with 
 objects of sense - experience ; these associations are 
 also established indirectly and incidentally that is to 
 say, without intentional instruction, the word- sounds 
 continually falling upon his ear in close connection 
 with visual or other impressions. 
 
 Presumably the first associations of this kind are 
 between objects of sense-experience (sencepts) and the 
 words by which these objects are symbolised. That 
 j! to say, those words and parts of words which are 
 ,expressive of relations have probably for the little 
 child no meaning. They are mere surplusage of sound, 
 
 170 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 171 
 
 conveying nothing, of no suggestive value. So soon as 
 the child begins to speak he passes from the condi- 
 tion of being a mere recipient of oral communication 
 to that of being himself a communicator. Words 
 become for him a means of more complete inter- 
 communication. The words that he first employs are 
 indicative either of objects of sense or of such actions 
 and activities as are objects of sense- experience ; such 
 objects, or the states of consciousness in which they 
 are focal, being probably strongly tinged with emotional 
 tone. This stage of the use of words for we may 
 hardly yet call it the use of language : may be termed 
 that of indicative communication. When the child 
 says " up," for example, that word is indicative of a 
 certain mode of sense-experience the experience of 
 being lifted which is also, through its emotional 
 tone, an object of desire, to use this word in a broadly 
 inclusive sense. We must not be misled by the fact 
 that the word " up " is used as a preposition, into 
 saying that the child is here employing a preposition. 
 It is not used by the child as a preposition. Nor 
 must we say that the child is condensing a sentence 
 into one word, and that this word is really equivalent 
 to " I want to be lifted up." The child is not express- 
 ing the adverb of a sentence, the rest of which is 
 unexpressed. Nor is the word to be regarded as a 
 sentence, but simply as a definite sound which he has 
 learnt to associate with a particular piece of objective 
 sense-experience. We ought not to call the words at 
 this stage of indicative communication nouns or verbs 
 
172 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 or any other parts of speech; for the terms, noun, 
 verb, etc., express the relations of the words they name 
 in a sentence. Nor should we call them condensed 
 sentences ; for a sentence is descriptive, and they are 
 
 l\ merely indicative. We must call them simply indica- 
 
 \ tive word-sounds. 
 
 When the child passes beyond the stage of mere 
 indicative communication and begins to talk in sen- 
 tences, this shows, unless the sentences are merely 
 .repeated parrot-fashion, that he is beginning to perceive 
 1 relations. For since sentences descriptively express 
 ^relations, it is clear that the relations so expressed 
 must be first perceived. A connecting link between 
 the stage of indicative communication and this higher 
 
 1 stage of descriptive communication, as we may term it, 
 is when the child puts together in juxtaposition two 
 objects of sense - experience. When the child puts 
 together the two word-sounds, " Bow-wow, bark," he is 
 on the verge of, if he ha>s. not actually reached, 
 predication. At first, perhaps, a mere expression 
 through word -sounds of the sensed association of a 
 visual with an auditory impression, it would soon 
 acquire the force of a perceived association ; in which 
 case the expression, though not yet a sentence in form, 
 is a sentence in intent. And when once the child 
 reaches this stage, when the perception of relations is 
 daw T ning upon his mind, there follows a period of 
 marked and rapid progress, partly due to his indi- 
 vidual use of perception, partly to the fact that 
 through this perception his teachers acquire a new 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 173 
 
 leverage to lift him up in his onward course of 
 development. 
 
 For we teach in relations ; and until these relations 
 can be perceived we are able to do little in the way of 
 direct teaching : we must be content to afford material 
 to the child's powers of imitation, since his powers of 
 apprehension are not yet developed. But when the 
 child's apprehension stretches forth to meet our 
 description ; when, partly under the influence of the 
 development of his quickening powers of perception, 
 partly under our guidance in the application of these 
 powers, his restless faculty of observation is directed 
 to the relations of the phenomena of the world around 
 him ; and when to perception are added analysis and 
 generalisation ; then the child makes rapid progress 
 .on the one hand in knowledge, and on the other hand 
 1 Jin the modes of expressing that knowledge in 
 language and thought. 
 
 If we look back to the early condition of man, and 
 if we study the, in part primitive, but in part perhaps 
 degenerate, condition of man as he now is in savage 
 races, we seem to find evidence of a stage of human 
 progress when intercommunication was entirely oral 
 that is, by word of mouth, and not by writing, though 
 this oral communication was probably very early 
 supplemented by pictorial representation. In the 
 caves of France, and in some of the caverns of our 
 own country, there are found, inscribed on bone or 
 antler or tusk, rude representations of animals. The 
 animals so represented are sometimes grouped; and 
 
174 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 it has been suggested that these incised figures 
 were perhaps not only early efforts towards pictorial 
 art, but were used to convey information, like the 
 message-sticks of some uncivilised tribes to-day. Thus, 
 in one of the French caves (the rock-shelter of. La 
 Madeleine, in the Dordogne) there was found a piece 
 of antler on which on one side two large aurochs' 
 heads are represented, and on the other a man is de- 
 picted with a weapon or burden on his shoulder. He 
 is meeting horses, indicated by their heads ; behind him 
 is the sea, indicated by incisions representing the waves, 
 in the midst of which is a fish or eel. It has been sug- 
 gested that all this had a meaning. It may have meant : 
 The tribe whose totem or sign is the aurochs have left 
 the sea, where they have been living on fish, for the 
 prairies, where they will hunt horses. This is, no doubt, 
 conjectural; but the suggestion is interesting as show- 
 ing the way in which this very early race of man may 
 have employed pictures as a means of communication. 
 We may speak of this stage of human progress, where 
 word of mouth and pictures are employed, as the stage 
 of oral and pictorial tradition. 
 
 It is a well-known law of organic development that 
 an animal in the early phases of its life-history passes 
 \/ through stages in which it resembles its remote 
 ancestors. The same is true in human 'progress. 
 And perhaps we may, without extravagance, regard the 
 Kindergartenphase of modern_education as a rehabili- 
 tation of the stage of oral and pictorial tradition, and 
 may see, in the concerted ^xercises^anoir musical drill, 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 175 
 
 the civilised survivals of what was probably of great 
 value to the tribe in early times, and is still of great 
 value among savage races, surviving among them as 
 the war-dance. The value of such exercises alike 
 among savage tribes and in ouj^yjEsed Kindergarten 
 lies in the social training it affords in concerted action. 
 And musical drill may illustrate, what is not im- 
 probably the fact, that music arose in the history of 
 our race as a rhythmic accompaniment to the rhythm 
 of the dance. 
 
 Note that the word " tradition " employed for this 
 stage of communication serves to emphasise the fact that 
 the accumulated knowledge of one generation is thus 
 handed down or carried on to the next. This is one 
 of the most distinctive features of descriptive com- 
 munication as compared with that which we have 
 termed indicative. In the^mdicative jstage of the_use_ 
 of words there is no tradition or handing on of the 
 results of experienceT^ What is indicated is essentially 
 present experience. It deals wholly with the here and 
 the now. A child in this stage, for whom words have 
 only an indicative value, is ^incapable of understanding 
 the relations of past and future. If we say, " I will 
 take you up presently," or, " I took you up just now," 
 it is the word " up " that has indicative force, un- 
 qualified by the past or future relations we have 
 introduced in our description; and he repeats the word 
 " up " to indicate his present need. Not until relations 
 are perceived, and the apprehension of such description 
 is rendered possible, does the child begin to take the 
 
176 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 past, as past, into his view, or extend his mental vision 
 so as to include the future. Of course, in remem- 
 brance he has re-presentations of past events; but such 
 memories are present to his consciousness at the time 
 of remembrance, and that relation to the present in 
 which lies their perceived pastness is not yet an object 
 of perception. It is characteristic of sense-experience, 
 prior to the development of perception, that it lives 
 wholly in and for the present. 
 
 When from the stage of oral and pictorial tradition 
 we pass to that of written record, we make a great 
 onward stride. The child is taught to read and write. 
 He is thus provided with the means of apprehending 
 and comprehending all the knowledge placed upon 
 record by those who usethatjangiiage which he^has 
 been taught to read? Beading and writing are of 
 course a valuable means of intercommunication, more 
 extended both in space and time than is possible by 
 word of mouth alone. But this is not their chief 
 value. Their chief value lies in the fact that written 
 language is a record of thought and experience, while 
 the ability to read this written record places us in 
 touch with all the thought and experience thus 
 recorded. And since this is so, since the essence of 
 thought can thus be dissolved in the medium of 
 language, and so handed on, that he who can 
 read may thus drink the accumulated knowledge of 
 the past, it might be supposed, and is supposed by 
 some, that all we have to do is to drink deep of 
 books, and thus absorb the wisdom of the ages. But 
 
/ V '~ OP THE 
 
 f) 
 
 LANGUAGE ANI> ,THOUGHl ^X 177 
 
 a right understanding of the relation of language to 
 thought will enable us to grasp how fallacious this is. 
 Language is the expression of thought; but it is 
 the symbolic expression. Its symbolism is rendered 
 suggestive through association. Or, since the word 
 " symbolic " may itself be misleading, let us say that 
 words are the signs of ideas, and that their significance 
 is learnt through association. There is, for example, 
 a general idea concerning vibrations which is expressed, 
 symbolised, or signified by the word " amplitj|0?" To 
 those who have already formed a conception of ampli- 
 tude, and who have learnt to associate the conception 
 with this word, the word carries significance. To 
 those whose conception is definite the significance is 
 definite ; to those whose conception is hazy the signi- 
 ficance is also hazy; to those who have no con- 
 ception the word has no significance. So, too, of 
 language in general. It is significant only to those 
 who have already reached the conceptions it empodies, 
 and have learnt to associate the conceptions witn their 
 verbal embodiments. Hence the necessity, as already 
 pointed out, of constantly submitting our conceptions 
 to the touchstone of experience, and allowing a con- 
 tinual to and fro play between generalising conception 
 and particularising perception. 
 
 It may be said, What, then, is the use of describ- 
 ing or explaining that which is new to the experience 
 of the hearer ? If language is significant only to those 
 who have already reached the conceptions it embodies, 
 how can we lead up through language to new concep- 
 
 12 
 
178 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 tions ? Let us note what steps we practically take in 
 such cases. We wish to describe quicksilver to a 
 child. We say that it is something like this pewter 
 in its brightness and the way it reflects the light ; it is 
 even heavier than this lead ; it is liquid like water, so 
 that I could pour it from one vessel to another. And 
 we might further qualify each of these statements so 
 as to render them more exact. Now, we may assume 
 that all the words in which the quicksilver is described 
 are significant to the child ; if they are not significant 
 , the description so far fails. At the end, if he have 
 good powers of synthesis, he may combine these par- 
 ticular properties thus signified into the new idea 
 we wish him to form. The word " quicksilver " then 
 becomes significant to him. But significant of what ? 
 x Of a "bit of mental synthesis lie lias performed under our 
 guidance. The qualities so combined are matters of 
 direct experience, and the words which express them 
 are directly significant. The result of the synthesis 
 (the quicksilver) has not been an object of direct 
 experience ; the word " quicksilver " is only indirectly 
 significant. To the questions placed at the beginning 
 of this paragraph, we must reply, that since language 
 is significant only to those who have already reached 
 the ideas it embodies, the new ideas to which 
 we can lead up through language are only indirect 
 or second-hand, and the words which stand for them 
 are only indirectly significant. And the use of 
 describing or explaining that which is new to the, 
 ^experience of the hearer is that, through apprehension 
 
AND THOUGHT 179 
 
 and comprehension, he may reach indirect conceptions 
 preparatory to the direct conceptions which will result 
 from direct experience through individual observation, 
 perception, and conception. The distinction here 
 drawn between indirect conception and significance on 
 the one hand, and direct conception and significance on 
 the other hand, is one which the teacher should clearly 
 grasp, tet him by an appeal to his own experience 
 answer the questions, What is the relative validity of 
 direct conception and indirect conception? Which is 
 the most real and vivid ? Which answers most closely 
 to the facts of existence ? There can be little doubt 
 about the answer. Indirect conception is a make-. 
 shift, most valuable as preparatory to direct concep- 
 tion, but of nothing like the same validity and jreality. 
 The teacher should therefore lose no opportunity of 
 encouraging dissatisfaction with merely indirect con- 
 ception, and of helping his pupils to see the importance 
 of making their conceptions direct by bringing them 
 into perceptual touch with experience. So far as is 
 possible, every word should be rendered directly and not 
 merely indirectly significant. Thus only will the true 
 relation between language and thought be estab- 
 lished. 
 
 The words " significance " and " meaning " are used 
 for the most part interchangeably that is to say, they 
 bear much the same meaning or significance. They 
 are somewhat troublesome, however, from the fact that 
 they are applied not only to words, but to ideas and 
 objects of thought. We not only say, for example, 
 
180 PSYCHOLOGY FOK TEACHERS 
 
 that such and such a word or phrase is significant and 
 full of meaning, but we say also that this or that 
 observed fact is significant, or that we now see its 
 meaning. Or we may say that such and such an 
 observation, which apparently has no bearing upon 
 any generalisation, is insignificant and without obvious 
 meaning. The two uses are, however, closely con- 
 nected ; and a brief consideration of the connection 
 will serve to bring home both the real meaning of 
 significance and the true significance of meaning. 
 
 \Knowledge and the same is true of the thought 
 which embraces it is a closely-related whole, all the 
 \parts of which are mutually interdependent. Nothing 
 therein is isolated or independent of the rest.^ If any 
 observed fact is apparently isolated and independent, 
 we say that we do not see how to fit it into our 
 scheme of knowledge, and that, for the present at 
 least, we are unable to explain it. We may note, in 
 passing, that different people regard these apparently 
 isolated and inexplicable facts or observations from 
 different points of view. Some ignore or neglect 
 them, as tending to interfere with a scheme of know- 
 ledge with which they are well satisfied. Others hail 
 them, and try to make them the starting-points of new 
 investigations. They hold that their scheme of know- 
 ledge is, after all, limited and imperfect. They are 
 dissatisfied with its limitations and imperfections, and 
 would gladly extend and perfect it. The one set of 
 people ignore and neglect the apparently isolated 
 observation, because it has for them no meaning or 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 181 
 
 significance ; the other set hail it, because they hope 
 to ascertain its significance and meaning. From 
 which we may gather that these words express the 
 relation which any object of consciousness bears to the 
 general body of inter-related knowledge. 
 
 But language is the medium in and through 
 
 IwJiich knowledge is communicated. It too shares 
 in the close interdependence of knowledge. Isolated 
 facts and observations are not knowledge ; nor are 
 isolated words and phrases language. Just as, when 
 we inquire what the meaning of a fact is, we wish to 
 know its relations to other facts and to that part of 
 the body of knowledge which comprises it ; so too, 
 when we inquire what the meaning of a word is, we 
 wish to know its relations, as a symbol of thought, 
 to other symbols and to that part of the body of 
 language which comprises it. Hence we can never 
 say what the full significance and meaning of a word is 
 unless we know what its context is in the sentence. 
 Significance and meaning, then, in all cases imply the 
 
 .conception and perception of the relations involved; ^ 
 but as applied to words they imply the conception and 
 perception of a double relationship the relations of 
 the symbols, and the relations of that which they 
 symbolise. All through, mental trainUfcWfrom the 
 nursery to the study involves a concurrenf^education , 
 in language and thought. y 
 
 For purposes of exact science, and for purposes of 
 logical treatment, the meaning of certain words is 
 rigidly and accurately : defined. They then become 
 
182 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 what are called technical terms. In physics, for 
 example, we must not use the terms " energy," " mass," 
 or "acceleration"" in any other than their technical 
 acceptation ; in geometry, the terms " point," circle," 
 " radius," and so on, are carefully denned. The 
 ' technical language of science thus possesses the advan- 
 i tage of rigid accuracy of significance, but it thereby 
 (becomes mechanical and loses its plasticity. In the 
 language of literature, on the other hand, the words 
 employed are not technical terms, rigidly and ac- 
 curately denned ; they acquire their significance to a 
 far greater extent from the context. Their relations 
 to each other may be described as rather organic 
 than mechanical. In the literary product of a great 
 master, while the meaning and significance are scarcely, 
 if at all, less exact than in the language of science, 
 the inter-relations are far subtler. They involve great 
 delicacy and nicety of perception. In our higher 
 education we afford opportunities for the training of 
 'mind in the relations of language and thought not 
 Smly in scientific description and explanation, but also 
 in the more imaginative products of literary masters 
 with their more direct suggestion of emotional tone. 
 And if we have in view all-round mental development, 
 a training neither in the language and thought of 
 science nor in the language and thought of literature 
 should be omitted. The language and thought of our 
 daily conversation is, as a rule, neither one thing nor 
 the other. It has neither the exactitude of the 
 mechanical relation characteristic of the one, nor the 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 183 
 
 delicacy of the organic relation characteristic of the 
 other. But if often somewhat hazy and indefinite, it 
 is, at any rate, eminently plastic. ^ 
 
 By learning to read, the child passes from the stage 
 where he is merely receptive of oral and pictorial 
 communication, to the stage at which he can make use 
 of the written record. But he is then only entering 
 upon the threshold of his education. How jshalljwe I 
 train him so that language and thought mayjlevelop / j 
 in him to their best and highest uses ? One way of 
 answering this question would be to sketch out a self- 
 consistent scheme of education, primary and secondary, i 
 and diverging thence into technical and university. It 
 is not my intention to attempt anything of the sort. 
 I shall content myself with the more modest endeavour 
 to indicate as briefly as possible what would appear to 
 be the chief psychological import of the subjects which 
 are commonly taught. 
 
 We may first note that a subject may claim a place 
 in an educational scheme (1) .on account of its direct 
 educational value as a means of mental discipline ; (2) 
 on account of its utility^ by which is meant not only 
 its utility for getting 011 in the world, but also its 
 utility for further intellectual progress ; and (3) on 
 
 account of its ^sth^tif^nr ninrfl.1 wpjffh 
 
 Little need be said on the value of grammar, 
 composition, and the analysis of sentences. But we 
 should not begin to teach grammar too soon ; nor 
 should we make it an exercise in mere memory-work, 
 with rales, lists of examples, and lists of exceptions, 
 

 184 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 all learnt by heart. When the child is already 
 tolerably familiar with the use of his own language, 
 and is sufficiently developed to be able to perceive 
 the relations of the words to each other in a sentence, 
 then, starting with the sentence, not with the grammar 
 book, we should train his powers of perception of these 
 relations. And an admirable field for the training of 
 perception it is. When these relations have been . 
 perceived in a great number of particular cases, we 
 may lead the pupil on to generalise these perceptions, 
 to conceive the relationships, and to apply the con- 
 ceptions in particular cases. In this way parsing 
 and the grammatical analysis of sentences may be 
 made a real and very valuable mental discipline. 
 The child should not be allowed to see a grammar 
 until his powers of grammatical perception are such 
 that he is beginning to have complete confidence in 
 them, nor until he has reached, under due guidance from 
 the teacher, a number of generalisations for himself. 
 Then he may use a grammar, but even then chiefly 
 as a book of reference. Composition may be used as 
 a means of exemplifying what has been learnt in the 
 study of grammatical analysis. But just as the child 
 should be encouraged to see that language is not only 
 | a medium for the perception of grammatical relations, 
 but a medium through which emotional tone njay be 
 evoked ; so, too, he must be encouraged to use language 
 in composition to a similar end. He should be 
 encouraged to develop that appreciation of literary 
 form which characterises the best use of language, and 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 185 
 
 to express himself in a form that is at any rate not 
 awkward, slipshodp>or incorrect. 
 
 I pass now to the study of foreign languages. 
 For direct educational value there is no question that 
 such a highly inflexional language as Latin stands far 
 higher than modern languages. Indeed, we may say 
 that the comparative study of an analytic language 
 like English, and an inflexional language like Latin, is 
 essential for the best training in the perception of 
 grammatical relations. In the inflexional language 
 each word bears on its face the sign of its relationship. 
 " Magister pueros docet." The subject is here clearly 
 indicated and marked off by its termination from the 
 object as complement of the predicate. The time- 
 relation is also clearly shown in the form of the verb. 
 In English, though we still retain some inflexions, we 
 as a rule indicate the relations either by separate 
 words or by position in the sentence. While in 
 Latin we say " docet," " docuit," " docebat," or "docebit," 
 the verb itself showing the time-relation, in English 
 we say " teaches " and " taught," so far like the Latin, 
 but " was teaching " and " will teach," here using 
 separate words to express the time-relation. In Latin, 
 as in English, the grammatical analysis should, so far 
 as is possible, be made a matter of direct perception I 
 in the sentence, not a matter of rules learnt by 
 heart in the grammar. The headmaster of a grammar 
 school tried, for a term, the experiment of giving no 
 grammar work from the book, but taught his form to 
 exercise their perceptions on the grammatical relations 
 
186 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 as they naturally arose, and to generalise the results 
 they obtained. At the end of the term he set a 
 grammar paper; and though the form was nowise 
 above the average, the grammar papers they sent in 
 were distinctly above the average. It is as a jggans 
 of training the faculties of perception and generalisa- 
 tion that the study of such a language as Latin in 
 comparison with English is so valuable. For utility, 
 French and German are superior to Latin. For this 
 purpose a conversational and reading acquaintance 
 with the language is of more service than a training 
 of grammatical perception by its means. Indeed, the 
 relations to be perceived are so similar to those already 
 provided for in the study of English and Latin, that in 
 the study of French or German reference to them 
 should only be incidental. The teaching of a modern 
 language should be, and generally is, on different lines 
 from those marked out for the study of Latin. All 
 these linguistic studies offer a convenient field for the 
 I encouragement of the " how " attitude and the " why " 
 attitude. And it is partly because the " how " and the 
 " why " admit of such ready descriptive and explanatory 
 answers that such studies are of such value in mental 
 discipline. Etymology may be made a means of 
 training in the comparative method, and may serve to 
 . introduce conceptions of development. By this means, 
 also, information of social value and import may be 
 introduced, and the mental horizon widened. All of 
 these foreign languages, Latin, French, and German, 
 open up great and wide literatures, though few there 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 187 
 
 be that find them. Here, however, Greek takes 
 precedence of any. For the encouragement and 
 stimulation of an appreciation of literary form at 
 its very best, Greek stands unrivalled. But of those 
 who learn Greek at school, how few reach anything 
 like a full appreciation of the literary wealth thus 
 placed within their reach, and how few find time to 
 keep up their acquaintance with the language. Greek 
 is taking its position as a language the adequate study 
 of which is not for the many but for the few. 
 
 Concerning mathematics, the branch of study that 
 deals with numerical and quantitative relations, little 
 need be said. Its great value, both from the point of 
 
 v \ view of mental training and discipline, and from that 
 V of utility, both commercial and intellectual, is admitted 
 by all. It is typically exact, and fosters accuracy of 
 \\ thought ; and this thought is expressible by means of 
 a special language or notation of corresponding exact- 
 ness. It affords admirable illustration of abstraction 
 and generalisation in close combination ; but its 
 generalisations admit of being readily particularised in 
 examples. The teacher should, so soon as the mental 
 powers of his pupils are ripe for it, illustrate by means 
 
 / of mathematics the nature of abstract and general 
 ideas ; and the relation of these ideas, as abstract and 
 general, to the particular cases in which they are 
 exemplified. It is a subject, however, which in its 
 higher ranges makes great demands on the memory ; 
 but at the same time trains the faculty of systematic 
 recollection. It emphasises the logical relationship, 
 
188 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 and is of immense value in aiding the pupil to con- 
 ceive and perceive the " therefore." An exercise of 
 some value for those who are sufficiently advanced is 
 to translate examples of geometrical reasoning, such as 
 propositions of Euclid, into logical form. Or this may 
 be brought out less formally by a continual asking of 
 the question " Why ?" and no subject lends itself better 
 to the training of the " why " attitude than mathematics. 
 The mathematical train of reasoning is apt to get a 
 long way from the fundamental generalisations, and a 
 series of " whys " are necessary to bring us down to 
 these foundations. 
 
 Geometry is of especial value in bringing home to 
 the eye in perception certain abstract and general 
 j numerical and quantitative relations; those who excel 
 in applied mathematics having often a special aptitude 
 in translating the problems with which they have to 
 deal into geometrical form. It is often exceedingly 
 helpful to bring home to the eye, by means of visible 
 space-relations that can be readily perceived, quanti- 
 tative relations which could not be directly perceived. 
 For example, the fluctuations in the value of the rupee 
 between 1884 and 1893 are brought home to the eye 
 in the figure on p. 1 9 ; while in the figure on p. 191, 
 the space, in feet, passed over by a body falling under 
 the uniformly accelerating force of gravitation, at the end 
 of the first, second, and third seconds and the interven- 
 ing half-seconds, is shown by firm lines ; the velocity 
 acquired at the end of each second and half-second is 
 shown by broken lines. This method of diagrammatic 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 189 
 
 representation is often a great aid to the apprehension 
 of description dealing with quantitative relations, and 
 to the comprehension of an explanation of the facts 
 described. The teacher should make himself familiar 
 with its use. Two lines are drawn at right angles. 
 The vertical line is used as a scale for the quantitative 
 relations to be perceived. In the diagram on p. 190 
 it is a scale of value, marked off in pence and shillings, 
 each division representing one penny. In the diagram 
 on p. 191 it is a scale of feet, each division represent- 
 ing four feet. Along the horizontal line are arranged 
 the facts described. If, as is often the case, they are 
 described as occurring at definite time-intervals, these 
 intervals should be placed to scale along the line. On 
 p. 190 the intervals are years. On p. 191 they are 
 half -seconds. Perpendiculars are drawn to scale over 
 the position of each fact described. Thus, over 1884, 
 on p. 190, the average value of the rupee in that 
 year, one shilling and sevenpence halfpenny, is repre- 
 sented to scale; and over 1893, the value in that year, 
 one and twopence halfpenny, is similarly represented. 
 Thus, too, over one second on p. 191, 16 feet, the 
 space passed over in one second, and 32 feet, the 
 velocity at the end of that second, are represented to 
 scale; and over three seconds, 144 feet, the space 
 passed over in that time, and 96 feet, the velocity 
 acquired at the end of that second, are similarly repre- 
 sented. If in this diagram the upper ends of the 
 broken lines be joined by a straight line, and the 
 upper ends of the firm lines be joined by a curve, the 
 
 -HF 
 
190 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 3 2 3 3 3 3 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 191 
 
192 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 uniformity of increase in both cases is brought home 
 to the eye, the increase in the velocities being in 
 arithmetical progression, while the increase in the 
 spaces passed over is in geometrical progression. And 
 thus the generalisations, v=32t and s=16t 2 , may 
 be led up to. It will be noticed in the diagram on 
 p. 190, that while the value of the rupee fell from 
 1884 to 1888 and 1889, it rose in 1890. This 
 should at once suggest the question, Why ? It was, 
 we are told, a temporary rise, of brief duration, due to 
 the action of the United States Government in buying 
 up silver with the object of maintaining the level of 
 its value as compared with gold. And it is one of 
 the generalisations of political economy that increased 
 demand is accompanied by a rise in price. Enough 
 has now been said to enable the teacher to under- 
 stand the method of diagrammatic representation, or 
 the graphic method, as it is often termed. 
 
 Incidental reference has already frequently been 
 /made to the use violence in mental training. In the 
 1 early stages of education it should be purely observa- 
 tional or experimental and descriptive ; and it must 
 throughout betnoroughly practical. For observation 
 by itself, elementary botany ; for observation with 
 experiment, elementary physics and chemistry are 
 best. Our aim is to make the pupil perceive for 
 himself natural relationships. Later on simple 
 generalisations will follow. But the utmost care on 
 the part of the teacher is needed to avoid, on the one 
 ,hand, introducing explanations beyond the powers of 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 193 
 
 his pupils, and, on the other hand, letting the so- 
 called science degenerate into mere rule -of -thumb 
 work. Invaluable as a real training in elementary 
 science is in education, we have to be constantly on 
 our guard lest it sink to the level of mere memory 
 work, dealing with a number of terms and phrases 
 which have only what we called indirect significance, 
 supplemented by some testing of solutions to give an 
 appearance of practical value. 
 
 . The direct educational value of history is to widen 
 /the mental horizon. It should, in the early stages of 
 education, be picturesque and anecdotal. It should 
 carry with it a considerable body of emotional tone ; 
 and it should be charged, not obtrusively, of course, 
 but quite insensibly, with moral purpose ; for its value 
 to a great extent lies in its social influence. One of 
 the chief difficulties in teaching children history is to 
 afford anything like a realising idea of time-relations, 
 and of what we may call time-proportion. This in- 
 volves what is called localisation in time. The child 
 should first be taught to localise events in his own 
 experience. I would suggest to the teacher of young 
 children to try the following plan. Get, or make, a 
 long strip of paper. Tell your pupils that you are 
 going to keep a record, day by day, of the events of 
 the week. Write down these events, the lessons 
 learnt, the games played, the walks taken, anything 
 that interests them, from below upwards, beginning 
 at the bottom of the strip, and marking the day 
 morning, afternoon, and evening. At the end of the 
 13 
 
194 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 week, tell them that you are going to show them the 
 record. Hang the strip over the back of a chair, 
 bidding them stand in front, and then pull the paper 
 slowly over so that the record of event after event 
 comes in due order of succession into view. They 
 will so I am told by teachers who have tried the 
 plan be delighted at seeing the record of the week's 
 events pass before them in a few minutes. They will 
 thus get an idea of a condensed time-record the 
 week's events being condensed into five minutes. 
 They will sobn be able to localise the events in the 
 week such localisation being a perception of the 
 time-relation of the event in question to other events. 
 A similar record-scroll may be made to represent the 
 chief events of their life. And thus_we may lead up 
 to historical record-scrolls ; and our pupils may be 
 taught to localise events in historical time. The days 
 of the week in our first scroll represent the dates in 
 our historical scroll. But it must be remembered 
 that dates are symbolic of time-localisation, and until 
 the child can localise in time are meaningless. No 
 doubt, at a somewhat later stage, the dates of the f 
 salient events of history should be committed to 
 memory as reference points for time -localisation ; but 
 this should not be permitted until such dates have 
 acquired meaning. 
 
 It was noted just now that trie study of history h#d 
 a moral value. This perhaps comes out most clearly 
 when we pass from the descriptive to the explanatory 
 stage, for then we have to consider the motives^ for 
 
LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT 195 
 
 conduct and action. History in the explanatory stage 
 4s~aTsubject rather for university than for secondary 
 education. The schoolboy, and this is true also to a 
 large extent of the undergraduate, has too little ex- 
 perience of the world for the great facts of history to 
 .assume for him their true significance ; hence it is not 
 till we reach maturer years that the real bearing and 
 full value of historical study begins to appear. 
 
 Under the heading of geo^/ra^pJiy we teach localisa- 
 tion in space by means of maps, which condense within 
 the reach of visual perception space-relations too wide 
 to be embraced by the eye. As localisation in time 
 should be taught to little children by the aid of events 
 which fall within their individual experience, so 
 should localisation in space be taught by the aid of 
 areas of which the child has such experience. When 
 a child can understands map of the garden or play- 
 ground, and of his own village, or a part of the town 
 in which he lives, he is prepared to understand a map 
 of the county or kingdom. But the geographical con- 
 ceptions, of a stay-at-home child are probably very 
 vague. Under the head of geography is also conveyed 
 a more or less miscellaneous mass of general informa- 
 tion concerning other lands from the historical, polit- 
 ical, commercial, or social point of view. This has 
 very little value as mental discipline ; its value, like 
 that of history, lies mainly in the fact that it widens 
 \the mental horizon and is of social import. Under 
 the head of physical geography we describe and ex- 
 plain the manner in which the physical features of the 
 
196 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS . 
 
 earth have been produced. It is of little value (ex- 
 cept as information) unless associated with previous or 
 concurrent training in elementary science. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to add that education is 
 incomplete unless there is a training in skill both in 
 the use of the delicate finger muscles and in that of 
 the larger and coarser body muscles. 
 
 In all subjects, with the exception of that of skill, 
 it is essential that there should be concurrent training 
 in language and thought ; and that both conceptions 
 and the words by which they are expressed should be, 
 as far as possible, directly and not merely indirectly 
 significant. 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 LITEKATURE. 
 
 IT has already been shown that mental development 
 is an individual_matter ; that the mind of a child, 
 like his body, grows in virtue of an innate and inherent 
 synthetic tendency ; and that all the teacher can 
 profitably hope to do is to supply the most favourable 
 conditions for growth and development. And if this 
 is true of the mind in its cognitive aspect, it is equally, 
 and perhaps more obviously, true of emotional de- 
 velopment. We will take literature as" our example 
 ofThe wide field of artistic culture. And here we 
 feel to the full our helplessness to do more than 
 minister to nature. If there be no inborn faculty of 
 appreciation for literature, we cannot hope to implant 
 it by any method of instruction ; and if such faculty 
 be given, all that we can do is to afford the material 
 and the opportunities for its ripening and maturing. 
 
 There would seem to be some people who, in adult 
 life, have little or no appreciation of literature. They 
 see, for example, nothing particular to admire in 
 Tennyson's beautiful lines 
 
 " And Morn 
 
 Has lifted the dark eyelash of the Night 
 
 From off the rosy cheek of waking Day ; " 
 
 197 
 
198 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 or in such lines as those of Lowell's 
 
 "The rich buttercup 
 Its tiny polished urn holds up, 
 Filled with ripe summer to the edge." 
 
 And if they do not feel the beauty of such passages, 
 what can we do ? It will certainly be of little avail 
 to try to describe and explain even if it admitted of 
 explanation wherein the beauty lies. He who is 
 wise will change the subject. But with children it 
 is our duty to foster their appreciation. And for- 
 tunately there are few children in whom there are no 
 germs of appreciation which may be so fostered. In 
 most cases the absence of receptive imagination in 
 grown-upjpeople is due_to^the fact that in them the 
 germs jiaye never been cultivated, or the young shoots 
 of imaginative appreciation have died down and 
 withered in the sterile soil of their daily life. But the 
 ministry of the teacher is here peculiarly difficult ; for 
 what the child is capable of appreciating is often very 
 different from what the teacher himself appreciates. 
 Certain it is, however, that if the teacher hagg^igver 
 cultivated his own faculty of appreciation, he will be 
 little able to render efficient service to his pupils in this 
 respect. Hence his aim should be so to establish a 
 mental background of appreciation in himself that he 
 v may be able insensibly to influence in a similar manner 
 the minds of those who are committed to his care. 
 
 In our elementary education a good deal of stress 
 is rightly laid on recitation. This affords material in 
 and through which appreciation may be trained. But 
 
LITERATURE 199 
 
 the mere getting by heart of the poetry which is 
 recited is the least important part, in educational 
 value, of recitation. At first, no doubt, the child must 
 devote all his efforts to learning his piece by rote. 
 But the true criterion of excellence in recitation is 
 not merely that it should be word-perfect, but that 
 it should show that the reciter has entered into the 
 spirit of that which he recites. And he should be 
 early made to. understand that correct manner and 
 method is certainly not less important^than correct 
 matter. Here demonstration is of far more service 
 than description. The teacher must himself be able 
 so to recite or read as to show how the spirit of the 
 piece may be brought out. At first the manner and 
 method of the child will have little individuality ; they 
 are based, through imitation, on the manner and 
 method of the teacher. But it is surprising how 
 soon the individuality of the child makes itself felt ; 
 and such individuality should be encouraged so long 
 as it does not run into mannerism. As the_ pupil .. 
 thus becomes independent of the teacher, he is able 
 more and more clearly to show the extent to which 
 he appreciates that which he recites. 
 
 To the recitation of poetry should be added prac- 
 tice in reading_aloud, not only poetry of varied metre, 
 but good literary prose. Thus fresh material will be 
 supplied on which the developing faculty of appr** 
 ciation may be exercised. The usual plan in English 
 secondary and public schools is to drop all recitation 
 and reading of the literature of his own language just 
 
200 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 at the time when the boy's appreciation is so far 
 developed as to enable him to enter into the spirit of 
 the work of the best masters. It is true that a play 
 of Shakespeare or one of the " Idylls of the King " or 
 other set piece is prepared with the aid of copious 
 notes; and an examination is set which deals with 
 text and notes. But from the nature of the case the 
 examination paper deals with them entirely in their 
 cognitive aspect. Look through such a paper and 
 what do you find ? A series of questions set, ap- 
 parently, with the object of ascertaining how much 
 general information concerning the subject matter of 
 the piece, or suggested thereby, the boy remembers. 
 All this is, no doubt, useful. But it is no test of 
 literary appreciation a matter which no examination 
 paper can adequately gauge, and hence a matter too 
 apt nowadays to be neglected. 
 
 It forms, however, no part of my present purpose 
 either to criticise existing methods of education or to 
 suggest practical reforms. I can but indicate what 
 appears to me necessary for the training of faculty. 
 The problem is : Givena faculty of appreciation, which 
 anwers~~on the part of the recipient to the creative 
 faculty on the part of the literary artist, how are we 
 to train it ? By all means let us render assistance in 
 the apprehension and comprehension of that which 
 our author has written. In this we cannot be too 
 thorough. But, after all, it is not herein that appre- 
 ciation lies. Nor can __we_ expecJi-^r-bQ^-to-describe 
 his appreciation ; as well ask him to describe his 
 
LITERATURE 201 
 
 appreciation of a fully ripe peach. But we may expect 
 him to give expression to that ^appreciation through 
 
 the rp.a.dfncy_nf aftlp.nt.p.rl pa.ssfl.gfta from his 
 
 And we may and should teach him so to use his 
 faculty of speech as to reflect the beauty of the 
 literature he appreciates. Thus only can he show us 
 how far his receptive imagination answers to the 
 creative imagination of the author he interprets. 
 
 The term " imagination" like so many others in 
 psychology, is used in different senses by different 
 writers. It is well to use it to denote the synthetic 
 faculty by which ideas are recombined to form new pro- 
 ducts. The phrase " passive imagination " is sometimes 
 used for the unconscious and unintentional recombina- 
 tion of ideas ; while " active imagination " is used for 
 their conscious and intentional recombination. The 
 distinction is, however, hard to preserve. It is cha- 
 racteristic of genius that the riches of imagination 
 seem to pour forth unbidden and without conscious 
 effort. Nor can the mind under such circumstances 
 be well called passive. We may distinguish be- 
 tween three uses of the imagination. In scientific 
 imagination the recombination of ideas is for purposes 
 of explanation ; the end in view being intellectual, 
 and the attainment of knowledge. In inventive 
 imagination the recombination of ideas is for purposes 
 of mechanical construction ; the end in view being 
 practical, and the aim, utility. In artistic imagination 
 the recombination of ideas is for purposes of art; the 
 end in view being aesthetic, and the aim, beauty. A 
 
202 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 further distinction one that applies to all these uses 
 is that between the creative imagination of the man 
 of science, the inventor, or the artist, and the re- 
 ceptive imagination through which we respond to his 
 v creative synthesis. The appreciation of which we 
 have been speaking involves receptive imagination. 
 The creative imagination of the poet is quite lost 
 upon the reader or hearer who has no kindred re- 
 ceptivity. Hence the apprp.onVhTmT^_f>l imaginative 
 literature presupposes a faculty which shall go out 
 to meet and embrace the creative product of the artist. 
 People of little imagination regard the similes and 
 metaphors of the poet as far-fetched and extravagant. 
 Why should Tennyson speak of the " dark eyelash " 
 of the night, or the " rosy cheek " of morn ? What 
 could have induced Lowell to call the flower of a 
 buttercup an " urn," and to say that it was filled with 
 " ripe summer " ? For the lack of imagination in 
 many of us especially men -education^rather than 
 nature is answerable. Children generally revel in 
 fairy tales ancTdelightfully improbable stories of ad- 
 venture. But there are some parents and teachers 
 who check all such reading ; it is not practical, and 
 will be of 110 service in this busy, workaday world. 
 Moreover, during schbol - life the boy has generally 
 very little spare time for the reading of imaginative 
 literature. The curriculum is so arranged that, when 
 the daily routine of work and games has been duly 
 fulfilled, there are but few odd moments left to devote 
 to the novel or the drama. Even the holidays have 
 
LITERATURE 203 
 
 their set task of some book on which the inevitable 
 examination, optional or compulsory, is held. No 
 doubt there are good reasons for this course. No 
 doubt, if much spare time were left, but few boys 
 would devote it to good literature ; and these few 
 may be trusted to make or steal the time if they have 
 a real bent for literature. But the fact remains that 
 \tlie many do not cultivate their imaginative faculty. 
 
 There is one further fact Concerning imagination in 
 literature which may be noted, since it illustrates in 
 a new way what was said concerning the relation of 
 the general to the particular, and of conception to 
 perception. In literature, as in art-product, generalisa- 
 tion takes the form of idealism ; particularisation, that 
 of realism. The ideal in art involves abstraction and 
 generalisation abstraction in the omission of all de- 
 tails which are not necessary to the idealised product ; 
 generalisation of the essential features reached by 
 abstraction. Eealism, on the other hand, involves the 
 introduction of such details as shall assimilate the 
 representation to actual fact, and the incorporation of 
 the results of generalisation in individual persons or 
 concrete things. Utter realism would be the exact 
 portrayal of life and nature as it is, with no trivial 
 detail omitted. In the first place, this is not possible ; 
 in the second place, it is not art. What is meant by 
 j realism in art or literature is therefore the introduction 
 lof so much detail as shall make the ideal represent- 
 * ^tio]f'7^^^_ajj^ImM!a/. What the artist, literary 
 or other, aims at is the due balance between idealism 
 
204 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 realism. The ideal conception of the creative 
 imagination has to be embodied in particular form; 
 and Hamlet, Monkbarns, or Tito stand before us. 
 
 The subjoct_matter of literature is as variedjis are 
 human interests. In it are reflected all the aspects 
 of external nature that appeal to us as human beings, 
 all the phases of human life and endeavour, and all 
 the yearnings and passions of the human soul. All 
 that we see and know, all that we hope and believe, 
 all that weTancy and imagine^ are reflected in litera- 
 ture. It is quite impossible, therefore, to define 
 literature as a whole by its subject matter. Nor 
 is this subject matter in any way definitely marked 
 off from that of science. Neither literature nor 
 science can claim a monopoly of any group of natural 
 phenomena. Man and nature afford subject matter 
 to both. And our own century has witnessed science, 
 on the one hand, endeavouring with increasing success 
 to justify the application of its canons to the study of 
 man, and literature, on the other hand, turning with 
 increasing sympathy for inspiration to the realm of 
 nature. It is not in theJr_subject_matter broadly 
 considered that literature and science_differ, it is in 
 vt.^'r Attifriflft arid spirit andjpurpose. 
 
 Now, since different men and women have different 
 interests, and derive their ^pleasure from different 
 sources, there are many kinds of literature. Nor is 
 there one kind of literary excellence, but many. This 
 is implied by the adjectives we use : sublime, majestic, 
 grand ; tender and pathetic ; exciting, thrilling : 
 
LITERATURE 205 
 
 humorous, witty, comic ; and so forth. We do not, or 
 should not, apply the epithets "beautiful" and "pretty" 
 to the same piece. And this implies a variety in our 
 appreciation. The same kind of literature does not 
 appeal in like degree to all of us, nor indeed in the 
 same way to any one of us in his different moods. 
 These facts must be steadily borne in mind by the 
 teacher. He must remember that what appeals 
 strongly to him at his stage of mental development 
 may not appeal at all to his pupil, who is at an 
 earlier stage. If he attempts in any way to force 
 upon an immature mind an appreciation unsuitable 
 to its stage of development, he may either prejudice 
 the pupil for life against that type of literature, or 
 encourage a sham appreciation, than which nothing 
 is unfortunately more common or more silly. What 
 he hagjjo clo is to educate the appreciation, leading it 
 on step by step in its upward development. He must 
 remember, too, that his aim is to minister to^all-round_ 
 mental development. He should endeavour to culti- 
 vate an appreciation of literary excellence in all its 
 phases. The majestic verse of Milton and of Words- 
 worth at his best; the polished excellence of Tennyson, 
 and the concentration and dramatic power of Browning; 
 the broad humanity of Shakespeare and of Scott : the 
 humour and pathos which find such different expres- 
 sion in Thackeray and Dickens; the strength of George 
 Eliot and the delicacy of Elizabeth Browning; the 
 word-painting of Euskin and Carlyle, the wit of Tom 
 Hood and the delicate humour of Charles Lamb, all 
 
206 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 these shouldjiave their chance of appealing to a niind 
 that has had an all-round education in appreciation? 
 And since we must distinguish between our lower and 
 our higher interests ; between the pleasures which are 
 mean, trivial, or sordid, and those which are ennobling, 
 and appeal to what we feel to be the better side of 
 our nature ; so we should encourage our pupils to 
 appreciate best that literature which appeals to lasting 
 and enduring interests, to those pleasures which are 
 ours in virtue of our distinctive humanity. 
 
 primarily to t\\?._fin/r^ and 
 
 we should endeavour to cultivate a due sense and 
 appreciation of thejnelody of literature. Even when 
 we read to ourselves, the element of sound is not 
 absent, but accompanies re-presentatively that which 
 is presentatively given to the eya In early days, 
 before the invention of printing, the appeal of the 
 poet was mainly to the ears of an audience ; now it 
 is more largely to a circle of readers. And since the 
 eye can take in a more complex and longer sentence 
 than the ear since, too, the reader in his study can 
 pause and go over a passage again if he have not 
 caught its rhythm or its meaning some modern 
 poetry has become too complicated and involved for 
 the ear to follow. Few, for example, could grasp on 
 first hearing, or indeed on first reading, the following 
 passage from " Sordello " 
 
 "While 
 
 Crowd upon crowd rose on Sordello thus 
 (Crowds no way interfering to discuss, 
 
LITERATURE 207 
 
 Much less dispute, life's joys with one employed 
 
 In envying them, or, if they ought enjoyed, 
 
 Where lingered something indefinable 
 
 In every look and tone, the mirth as well 
 
 As woe, that fixed at once his estimate 
 
 Of the result, their good or bad estate) 
 
 Old memories returned with new effect." 
 
 Judged by the appeal to the ear, such a passage 
 stands condemned. And, at any rate for the purposes 
 of education, the appeal to the ear js_thg__surest 
 \ criterion of excellence in literary form. To the 
 appeal to the /ear, however, an appeal to the voice 
 should bemadded. Hence the great and, in secondary 
 education, too little recognised importance of reading 
 aloud. I revert to this because it is, in my judgment, 
 of great value in the training of the faculty of 
 appreciation, while it is also a delightful accomplish- 
 ment. How few Englishmen of average education 
 are capable of reading effectively a passage in prose or 
 verse so as to bring out its rhythm and melody, its 
 delicacy or its force. And though a man's powers of 
 elocution are not necessarily an index of his faculty of 
 appreciation, yet this is the most expressive means at 
 his command for showing his appreciation. If, too, 
 there is any truth in what has before been urged, that 
 language and thought develop hand in hand, we may 
 fairly expect that appreciation and its expression 
 should so act and react upon each other as to 
 facilitate the concurrent development of both. 
 
 We cannot here consider at any length how the 
 child should be trained to use aright his gift of speech 
 
208 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 for purposes of reading and recitation. As before 
 noted, demonstration is here of far more value than 
 description. The child must be shown not told 
 ho\ji_to read well. The artj^ation L jDQiust^^e_clear 
 and distinct, free from provincialism and mannerism. 
 ,Rate of utterance and emphasis must be duly graded. 
 And the melody of intonation must subtly indicate 
 a sense of harmony between the thought and its 
 expression. Sing-song^in repatitioii-or reading must 
 be checked__at__alL-hazards. Unfortunately, much of 
 the simple poetry for children lends itself all too 
 readily to sing-song. Hence the pupil should be 
 taught to read prose with due intonation. It is 
 easier to read well good blank verse than the rhymed 
 couplet. The pupil sbuould also be taught to dis- 
 tinguish clearly between the rhythm and melody of 
 poetry and that of prose, and should be led to feel 
 that the difference lies a good deal deeper thanjthe 
 way in which the_lines_a. rp w ri 'tt pr| ._pr printed. A 
 prose author may consciously or unconsciously fall 
 into the rhythm of poetry a fault from which even 
 Dickens is not free. Mr. Blackmore, for example, 
 in Lorna Doone, writes: "All that in my presence 
 dwelt, all that in my heart was felt, was the maiden 
 moving gently, and afraid to look at me." This is 
 not true prose melody, but the rhythm of verse. On 
 the other hand, uniformity in the length of the lines 
 does not constitute poetry, though some definite 
 schematic sequence is almost, if not quite, essential. 
 The American poet Walt Whitman shook himself 
 
-HE 
 
 LITEKATURE- * S I T Y J2 9 
 
 \ 
 
 almost entirely free of all the trammels of metre. 
 
 Both in thought and expression much that he wrote 
 has great beauty, but it is difficult to read aloud 
 effectively. I may perhaps be allowed to quote one 
 short piece 
 
 " Had I the choice to tally greatest bards, 
 To limn their portraits, stately, beautiful, and emulate at will 
 Homer with all his wars and warriors, Hector, Achilles, Ajax, 
 Or Shakespeare's woe estranged Hamlet. Lear, Othello Tennyson's 
 
 fair ladies 
 Metre or wit the best, or choice conceit to wield in perfect rhyme, 
 
 delight of singers ; 
 
 These, these, sea, all these I'd gladly barter, 
 Would you the undulation of one wave, its trick to me transfer, 
 Or breathe one breath of yours upon my verse 
 And leave its odour there." 
 
 Here, where he is most effective,. in the last four lines, 
 he departs least widely from the traditional poetic 
 form. 
 
 The pupil should always be allowed to read over 
 caref ully_jbo_Jnmself_ any passage he is expected to 
 read aloud effectively. It is quite impossible for him 
 fully to perceive the harmony between expression and 
 thought as he reads. Take, for example, the following 
 five lines from a well-known sonnet of Wordsworth's, 
 which are admirable in their delicate harmony 
 
 " It is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; 
 The holy time is quiet as a Nun 
 Breathless with adoration ; the broad sun 
 Is sinking down in its tranquillity ; 
 The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea." 
 
 It is not likely that the words "breathless with 
 
210 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 adoration," or the last line, with its lingering emphasis 
 on the word " broods," will be rendered with due effect 
 if the reader has no previous acquaintance with the 
 poem. Nor can he catch the spirit of this intro- 
 duction if he has no foreknowledge of the sequel. 
 Reading at sight is indeed a most useful accomplish- 
 ment, which should be sepajatpytrained. It involves 
 in marked degree that divided attention which was 
 alluded to in the second chapter; for the compre- 
 hension of the meaning as we read at sight is some 
 way ahead of the vocal expression. But this very 
 division of the attention prevents the expression from 
 attaining anything like its maximum value. It may 
 be useful, therefore, to be able to read a poem or a 
 piece of music at sight; but it should be understood 
 that this is no fair criterion either of appreciation or 
 of powers of expression. What should we say of an 
 artist who came forward to read or sing in public, 
 and who gave us a mere at-sight rendering ? But no 
 artist worthy the name would willingly consent to do 
 such gross injustice both to himself and to his audience. 
 Let us now pass on to consider what is the psycho- 
 logical nature of that appreciation to which reference 
 has so frequently been made. In the first place, we 
 may note that it belongs to the category of that 
 emotional tone to which we directed our attention 
 in the chapter on Mental Development. It is not 
 primarily a matter of cognition, though cognitional 
 elements may be present. Hence it is exceedingly 
 difficult to define or describe, since both definition 
 
LITERATURE 211 
 
 and description are in terms of cognition. Agprecia- 
 tion is^ however, an example of a special kind of 
 emotional tone that which is__termed aesthetic tone. 
 What are the distinguishing characteristics of aesthetic 
 tone is a point on which psychologists are by no 
 means agreed. That, which is here said must there- 
 fore be, regarded as a matter of individual opinion. 
 In common with emotional tone in general, it is in 
 large degree subconscious and concerns the mental 
 background. Or perhaps it would be better to say 
 that it concerns the state of consciousness as a whole, 
 both focus and margin, and especially the relations 
 involved. Herein, indeed, lies, in my opinion, the 
 distinguishing feature of aesthetic tone, as such. _/_ 
 is the efa otional tone associated ivith those elements in 
 \ consciousness which we term relations. It does not, 
 therefore, take its origin until perception has intro- 
 duced into the field of consciousness these relational 
 elements. Until we can perceive the relations involved 
 in the melody and harmony of literature, the aesthetic 
 tone ofappreciation has no place in our consciousness. 
 We speak in daily conversation of perceiving th 
 beauty of a poetical passage. We say we perceive the 
 beauty, for example, of Browning's description of the 
 awakening of the water from its frosty sleep, when 
 
 " Early in autumn, at first winter- warning, 
 The stag had to break with his foot, of a morning, 
 A drinking-hole out of the fresh tender ice. 
 That covered the pond, till the sun in a trice, 
 Loosening it, let out a ripple of gold, 
 And another and another, and faster and faster, 
 Till dimpling to blindness, the wide water rolled." 
 
212 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 Such perception of the beauty of a passage may mean 
 the perception of the relation of the passage to our 
 standard of beauty ; in which case it is a judgment 
 and cognitive in its nature. Or it may, and generally 
 does, mean a feeling of appreciation ; in which case it 
 is the direct experience of-sesthetic tone. What we 
 perceive, in the latter case, is the series of relations 
 involved in the poet's description, and this is so far 
 cognitive. But this perception is accompanied by 
 emotional tone, and herein lies the sense of apprecia- 
 tion as such. We perceive, too, the harmony between 
 thought and expression, and the melodious relations of 
 the words to each other in the rhythm ; and this again 
 is so far cognitive. But these perceptions too are 
 accompanied by emotional tone giving rise to our 
 sense of appreciation. It should be particularly 
 noticed that the aesthetic tone, as such, is quite dis- 
 tinct from any inteUsctual and cognitive process, 
 though it is the emotional accompaniment of that 
 process; just as the pleasure we derive from eating 
 a good dinner is quite distinct from, though it accom- 
 panies, the nutritive value of the operation. 
 
 The relation of that which is in the focus of 
 consciousness to the mental background in which it 
 is set forms^an imj>ortant~Tactof~in aesthetic' tone. 
 This is seen" in the employment of that which is 
 known as suspense. Here a series of minor relation- 
 ships are presented so as to prepare a background in 
 which the emphatic relation shall be set. An example 
 from Macaulay's Eeform Bill speech may be taken 
 
LITERATURE 213 
 
 in illustration : " If, sir, I wished to make such a 
 foreigner clearly understand what I consider as the 
 great defect of our system, I would conduct him 
 through that immense city which lies to the north of 
 Great Eussell Street and Oxford Street a city superior 
 in size and in population to the capitals of many 
 mighty kingdoms ; and probably superior in opulence, 
 intelligence, and general respectability to any city in 
 the world. I would conduct him through that inter- 
 minable succession of streets and squares, all consist- 
 ing of well-built and well-furnished houses. I would 
 make him observe the brilliancy of the shops, and the 
 crowd of well - appointed equipages. I would show 
 him that magnificent circle of palaces which surrounds 
 the Kegent's Park. I would tell him that the rental 
 of this district was far greater than that of the whole 
 kingdom of Scotland at the time of the Union. And 
 then I would tell him that this was an unrepresented 
 district." Note how the background of consciousness 
 is here prepared for the final emphatic statement. 
 And note, in passing, how skilfully the author par- 
 ticularises and brings the picture home to the eye 
 through his description. 
 
 Nor is it only in the employment of the figure of 
 suspense that the influence of the mental background 
 makes itself felt. We all know how some particular 
 line of a poem, or speech in a play, or scene in a novel, 
 fails to carry its due force if torn from its context. 
 Its full weight and beauty is appreciated only when 
 the mental background has been prepared by what 
 
214 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHERS 
 
 has gone before. How much even Portia's splendid 
 outburst, beginning 
 
 "The quality ofjtnere^is not - strained," 
 
 loses, if Shylock's question, " On what compulsion ? " 
 be not borne in mind. Or, to give but one further 
 example, how tame and trite, taken by itself, is the 
 line, 
 
 "And never lifted up a single stone !" 
 
 And yet, as the line stands in Wordsworth's idyll 
 Michael, it is, at any rate to my appreciation, one of 
 the most profoundly touching and pathetic lines in the 
 whole range of our literature. Few who have entered 
 into the spirit of the poem could read it aloud without 
 a break in their voice. 
 
 We have all probably felt the thinness, so to speak, 
 of the earlier chapters of a novel, especially on first 
 reading. There is as yet no mental background which 
 in any way bears upon the facts which are described, 
 and in which those facts can find their appropriate 
 setting. On the other hand, our fullest appreciation 
 of a novel or drama Js_when_we review it in memory. 
 The series of events are seen foreshortened in remem- 
 brance ; the minor events retire into the dim background ; 
 while the salient features of the development stand 
 out clearly in their due relations, the perception of 
 which is accompanied by the aesthetic tone of apprecia- 
 tion. Thus, too, in a sister art, Mozart speaks of 
 " seeing the whole of it " (a piece of music, even a long 
 one) " at a single glance of my mind " ; and adds, " The 
 
LITERATURE 215 
 
 best of all is the hearing of it all at once." For the 
 purpose of appreciation in retrospect it is important 
 that there should be a single definite development to 
 which minor series of events are subordinate. When 
 there are several co-ordinate series, not duly related, 
 the effect on the mind is confusing. We say that the 
 novel is wanting in artistic unity. Silas Marner 
 is an admirable example of such artistic unity; 
 Thackeray's Virginians being wanting in this respect. 
 In saying that a novel is wanting in artistic unity, 
 we are expressing a judgment. Such a judgment, it 
 should be noted, though it is exercised in matters of 
 appreciation which are concerned with the emotional 
 aspect of our conscious experience, is in itself intel- 
 lectual and cognitive. It involves a standard of ex- 
 cellence to which a particular art-product is compared. 
 The standard is often spoken of as an ideal ; and such 
 an ideal is the product of reflective generalisation. It 
 is the net result of all our appreciative experience. 
 The_act_^fjudgment is the perception of the relation 
 \of the particular art-product, concerning which an 
 k opinion is expressed, to our^ideaL^tandard. If we 
 say that Tennyson's lines, 
 
 "So all day long the sound of battle roll'd 
 Among the mountains by the winter sea," 
 
 are admirable in their harmony of thought and expres- 
 sion, we are asserting that they reach or approach our 
 ideal of excellence. 
 
 It may be well very briefly to compare an aesthetic 
 judgment with that expressed in the minor premise of 
 
216 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 th^ syllogism. The logical judgment is characterised 
 by its definiteness. For example 
 
 Mammals are warm-blooded ; 
 
 A sheep is a mammal; 
 Therefore a sheep is warm-blooded. 
 In the judgment here expressed in the minor premise 
 we assert that the sheep conforms to the standard 
 definition of a mammal ; it is a particular example of 
 a general class. But in aesthetic judgments there is 
 none of this definiteness and logical exactness. The 
 literary ideal is something which is quite real and yet 
 quite undefined. If I say that the following lines of 
 Eudyard Kipling's Seal Lullaby are excellent in their 
 kind, I express a literary judgment 
 
 "Where billow meets billow, then soft be thy pillow, 
 
 Oh, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease ! 
 The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee, 
 Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas ! " 
 
 I ani not aware, however, of having formulated any 
 generalisation of what the peculiar excellence of a 
 seal lullaby should be ; and I certainly am not pre- 
 pared to throw my conclusion into logical form. And 
 this would seem to be characteristic of aesthetic judg- 
 ments in general. It is true that we can formulate 
 some few canons of aesthetic criticism. But they do 
 not go far to help us. And if someone asks me, 
 " Why do you regard these lines of Eudyard Kipling's 
 as excellent in their kind ? " I can say but little in 
 reply. And I shall feel that this little is altogether 
 inadequate. It is quite possible, moreover, that my 
 
LITERATURE 217 
 
 own individual ideal may not coincide with what may 
 be termed the social ideal using this term for the 
 ideal of those among us who from their refined and 
 highly trained faculty of appreciation are best fitted to 
 give an opinion in questions of literature. And this 
 fact that there is ry3 absolute uniformity of ideal 
 serves further to illustrate the distinction between 
 literary and logical judgments. 
 
 This distinction^ may be further illustrated hyulraw- 
 ing a comj)fl.rifiori hfttwp.p.n 1itp.ra.tnrp. a.nrl sp.ip.np.ft The 
 primary aim and object of science is to explain 
 phenomena; its excellencies are accuracy, organisa- 
 tion, and rigid logical sequence. It might be described 
 as a concatenation of " therefores." On the other hand, 
 | the aim and object of literaturg is to evoke emotional 
 |tone to appeal to our sense of the beautiful, the 
 grand, the tender, the pathetic, the humorous. Its 
 excellencies are melody, harmony, artistic unity, beauty 
 of thought and expression. It is not a concatenation 
 of " therefores," but a sequence insensibly enchained by 
 a delicate suggestiveness. It depends not so much on 
 logic, though logic may be insensibly present, as on 
 insight. The one is primarily cognitive and intellect- 
 ual ; the other concerns the emotional aspect of states 
 of consciousness. But by this it is not meant that 
 science is intellectual and literature merely emotional. 
 The best literature is often splendidly intellectual ; . 
 the loftier scientific truths stir some of us with a 
 profound emotion. The point is, that the primary 
 aim of the man of science is intellectual and cogni- 
 
218 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 tive ; while the primary aim of the man of letters is 
 aesthetic and emotional in the psychological sense of 
 the term. The one interprets nature under the forms 
 of the intellect ; the other interprets nature under the 
 forms of aesthetic tone. The one strives to make his 
 atmosphere perfectly clear and transparent ; the other 
 chooses the veiled tints of sunrise and sunset, the 
 reflected lights of the clouds, or the half-revealing, 
 half-concealing radiance of night. Not that the poet's 
 atmosphere is of necessity misty or vague, it may be so 
 transparent that every minutest detail of his landscape 
 is clearly visible. What could be more pellucid than 
 the atmosphere of this little picture of Coleridge's ? 
 
 "There is not wind enough to twirl 
 The one red leaf, the last of its clan, 
 That dances as often dance it can, 
 Hanging so light, and hanging so high, 
 On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky." 
 
 But whereas the man of science has no choice but to 
 work under the conditions of the greatest possible 
 intellectual lucidity, the man of letters is free to 
 
 , choose the conditions which conduce to the highest 
 
 [ artistic effect. 
 
 It is a mistake, however, to regard science and art 
 as antithetical. The man_of_science is, or should 
 be, an artist. His art-work is the interpretation of 
 nature, in its widest sense, under the forms of the 
 intellect ; just as the art-work of the man of letters 
 is the interpretation of nature under the forms of 
 aesthetic tone. Man of science_and man of-I^tters 
 
 \ are both creative artists. It is not science and art 
 
LITERATURE 219 
 
 that are antithetical ; but the art-work of science and 
 the art-work of literature, appealing as they do to 
 different aspects of our mental nature. But if they 
 are antithetical, they are not, or they need not be, 
 antagonistic. No doubt a man may, by exclusive 
 devotion either to literature or to scienceTstarve^iown 
 the other side of his nature^^nd becoln^~topsidedr It 
 is our aim in education to prevent such lopsidedness. 
 And there is in modern times a danger a real and 
 very ominous danger that the growth, not so much 
 of science as of what we may term scientism (which 
 may be defined as science minus the artistic ideal), 
 may conduce to the development of a specific class of 
 lopsided scientists. All who have the interests of 
 true education at heart should be alive to this danger. 
 Technical instruction is of great^value ; but it cannot 
 afford that all-round training and discipline ^xf tKeT 
 mental powers whichj^ the aim of education. 
 
 Although, however, there is no necessary antagon- 
 ism between literature and science, it is undoubtedly 
 true that, either through nature or nurture, the same 
 individual is seldom man of science and 
 
 in equal degree. 'Nor is it desirable that he should 
 be. But the man of science should at least have 
 some sympathy with literature, and the man of letters 
 some appreciation of the art-work of science. And 
 whether he is primarily scientific or primarily literary 
 depends to a large extent on the nature of the mental 
 background. In man, as a rational being, this back- 
 ground is in large degree relational: in the man of 
 
220 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 science the aspect of the relations therein is primarily 
 logical; while in the man^f_letter^_JiLis_pnmarily 
 aesthetic. In the one it is illuminated by the cold, 
 clear light of reason; in the other it is suffused with 
 the many-hued tints of emotion. And there is this 
 difference between the method of presentation of his 
 work by the man of science and the man of letters 
 especially the poet. In an adequate treatise on 
 science it is expected of the author to supply to a 
 very large extent the background in which his con- 
 ceptions are set. He haa not only to give us his 
 thought, but to exhibit with due diligence and care 
 its relations, and its exact position in the scheme of 
 knowledge. Not to do so is to fail in the art of 
 scientific exposition. With the poet it is different. 
 It is no part of his function to supply the mental 
 background. That you must bring for yourself to the 
 study and enjoyment of his work. And the fuller 
 and richer your background, the more sympathetically 
 will you respond to the poet's appeal. Hence the 
 concentration and condensedness of poetry ; hence 
 the fact that it is suggestive rather than expository ; 
 and hence the fact that, if we have a poor thin back- 
 ground, Shakespeare, and those who sit nearest to his 
 throne, will appeal to us in vain. 
 
 To draw but one more distinction between poetry 
 as the flower of literature, and science as the embodi- 
 ment of rational explanation, we may note that, since 
 the artist must ever breathe the spirit of his art into 
 the materials with which he works, we find that, for 
 
LITERATURE 221 
 
 the man of science, all nature is instinct_with reason ; 
 while for the poet the whole universe " trembles with 
 song." As the poet from whom I borrow this expres- 
 sion Mr. William Watson sings it 
 
 "Lo, with the ancient 
 Roots of man's nature 
 Twines the eternal 
 Passion of Song. 
 
 /\ Ever Love fans it, 
 
 Ever Life feeds it, 
 Time cannot age it, 
 Death cannot slay. 
 
 Deep in the world-heart 
 Stand its foundations, 
 Tangled with all things, 
 Twin-made with all. 
 
 Nay, what is Nature's 
 Self, but an endless 
 Strife toward music, 
 Euphony, rhyme? 
 
 Trees in their blooming, 
 Tides in their flowing, 
 Stars in their circling, 
 Tremble with song. 
 
 God on His throne is 
 Eldest of poets ; 
 Unto His measures 
 
 Moveth the whole." 
 
 In conclusion, I would remind the teacher that his 
 ministry in the cultivation of the faculty of literary 
 
 appreciation is far more indirect than^itis^ in the 
 trai5SgH5f tlie^ntellec^- His guidance here is far 
 more insensiBTe. So mu&h depends upon what may 
 be termed a literary atmosphere. My own head- 
 master, in my schoolboy years, n3ZiL_lek slip an 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
222 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 opportunity of introducing incidental illustrations, in 
 the midst of our ordinary work, from the best authors 
 in prose and verse. And out of school hours nothing 
 would delight him more than for his pupils to afford 
 him opportunities of encouraging us and helping us to 
 a healthy appreciation of good literature. More can 
 , be done towards establishing a mental background of 
 \ appreciation for art-work, whether literary or scien- 
 rtific, by the stimulating influence of one who has a 
 spirit_j)f enthu^aJSTtfem by any amount of set and 
 formal teaching. And the teacher must never forget 
 this cardinal fact that observation, accurate and 
 sympathetic, true-eyed and true-hearted, is the mother 
 alike of literature and of science, and that just in so 
 far as we too are observers shall we be able to appre- 
 ciate the art-work^of science and the art-work of 
 literature. 
 
 I/ 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 CHARACTER AND CONDUCT. 
 
 WHAT is the aim_and^_o1^ject^ of the ministry of the 
 teacher ? The general answer to this question has 
 already been given : To furnish the besjL_possible_ 
 conditions for all-round_deyelopment. In somewhat 
 greater detail w T e may say that the ^teacher has in 
 view the following aims : 
 
 1. To aid in, that is to say, to afford suitable 
 conditions for, the development of aenggj^gxperi- 
 ence, the correlation of sense-data, and thfL. co- 
 ordination of activities; and^ thus to fit the child 
 to deal practically and efficiently with his natural 
 environment. 
 
 2. To aid in the development of the perceptive and 
 rational faculties, and in the correlative powers of 
 apprehension and description, and of comprehension 
 and explanation ; and to foster the " how " attitude 
 and the " why " attitude. 
 
 3. To fit him to play some special part in the 
 social community, and to perform wisely and w^ell 
 the general duties of citizenship. 
 
 4. To foster his faculty of appreciation, and to fit 
 
 223 
 
224 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 him to get the highest and best pleasure out of life, 
 and to give such pleasure to others. 
 
 5. To aid him to reach right conceptions of an 
 ideal self and an ideal community ; and to foster an 
 effective desire for their practical realisation. 
 
 6. And in general to aid him to make the best use 
 best for the community and best for himself of 
 
 all his powers. 
 
 The foregoing list makes no pretence to be com- 
 plete or exhaustive. It may, however, be objected 
 that, not only is it incomplete, but it leaves out what 
 many people regard as the central and most important 
 of all the objects of education, since no mention is 
 made of earning a livelihood, or of making money and 
 a position in the world. Although I am fully aware 
 of the importance of this object although in any 
 enumeration of the motives of human conduct and 
 human endeavour its omission would imply blindness 
 to the facts of our existence still it does not appear 
 to me necessary to introduce it into a statement of 
 the aims of the teacher. It is sufficient for us " to 
 fit the individual to play some special part in the 
 social community." If the individual so fitted plays 
 that part to the best of his ability, the performance 
 of the work and duty thereby entailed will meet its 
 due reward. Suppose that we are training a man to 
 be a lawyer or an engineer ; our part is to fit him to 
 do his work honestly and well, conscientiously and 
 without scamping. We fit him to play efficiently his 
 special part in the social community. The money he 
 
CHARACTER AND CONDUCT 225 
 
 earns and the position he wins are the social recogni- 
 tion of work done and duty fulfilled. Of this aspect 
 of the matter we are neither ignorant nor forgetful ; 
 but it does not primarily concern us. 
 
 The word social strikes the keynote of this chapter. 
 Much that has been said in previous chapters has 
 tacit and implied reference to our social state. Now 
 we have to give to this social condition its due 
 prominence. If our whole system _of education^ do v 
 not bear fruit in characterjmdJ^Qfl^^ 
 is it ? " 
 
 ~~li/ven in the correlation of sense-data and the co- 
 ordination of activities under the relatively simple 
 conditions of sense-experience the social facton~is by 
 no means absent ; for the environment in wmciy this 
 experience develops is from the first sociafl/in its 
 nature. The activities must be performed in just 
 relation to the like activities of others. Description 
 and explanation have no meaning apart from our social 
 state. The intimate relation of language and thought, 
 to which we devoted the eighth chapter, carries with 
 it a similar implication ; while literature, music, paint- 
 ing, sculpture, and the whole field of art are a subtle 
 means of social communication. In our appreciation 
 of the best art we feel that we are rising above our 
 lower and merely individual interests, above those 
 pleasures which are mean and trivial, low and sordid, 
 to those which are pure and ennobling, and which 
 appeal to the higher and more distinctively social side 
 of our nature. It is the function of art to 'raise us 
 
226 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 to minister to that appreciation which is ours in virtue 
 of our distinctively human and social state. It deals 
 with 
 
 "Great thoughts, grave thoughts, thoughts lasting to the end." 
 
 But when we come to conduct we have something 
 more than appreciation. It does not suffice to 
 admire, no matter how truly, the beauty of nature 
 or of human life as interpreted by art ; it does not 
 suffice to be touched, no matter how deeply, by the 
 pity and the pathos of existence ; it does not suffice 
 to appreciate, no matter how delicately, the highest 
 achievements of human genius. We jfinst nnrsp.lves 
 be_ii^-and^tining. We must play our p^f-. ir\ the 
 busy social^world. We have work to do and duties 
 to perform, and into this work and these duties we 
 must throw our heart and soul. And part of our_ 
 duty as teacher^ i to factor t*"' g spirit of active 
 endeavour and to guide it to right ends. 
 
 Before considering in what manner the teacher may 
 most profitably exert his influence in this respect, it 
 will be well to devote our attention to the motives in 
 and through which control is exercised over conduct. 
 The relative strength of these motives is one of the 
 determining factors of character. 
 
 It must be remembered that there is a natural and 
 inherent tendency to action in virtue of innate and 
 inherited capacities or proclivities. From our present 
 point of view we may term such action impulsive. It 
 
CHARACTER AND CONDUCT 227 
 
 is the characteristic of impulsive action that it is not 
 under due control. The impulse may be either good 
 or bad. However we may explain, or attempt to 
 explain, the mode of origin of the innate and hereditary 
 tendency and this is a difficult problem which we 
 cannot here discuss the fact remains that some of 
 us come into the world with a larger percentage of 
 good impulses or bad-impulses, as the case may be, 
 than others. But the characteristic of such impulses, 
 whether good or bad, is this : that they are, as such, 
 uncontrolled. A man walking by the waterside sees 
 a child in peril of drowning, and instantly springs to 
 the rescue ; a high-spirited youth sees a girl insulted 
 by a blackguard, and promptly knocks him down ; a 
 poor starving wretch sees a child carrying her father's 
 dinner, arid hungrily grabs it. These actions call 
 forth in different degree our praise or blame; but 
 they are alike in being impulsive. They are not 
 the outcome of determinate control. We speak, 
 indeed, of motives for such actions, saying that the 
 poor wretch is impelled to his deed by motives of 
 hunger. But it is-_weILfcQ_reserve the term motives 
 Jjfor the determinants of controlled action; and to 
 sp$Jkf"not of Uhe motivesT^ut of the ^pTumptings of 
 impulse. Happy is he who inherits the promptings 
 of social, and not of anti-social, impulse. 
 
 The motives under the influence of which we 
 exercise control over our actions are so various, that 
 their adequate analysis presents one of the most 
 difficult problems of psychological inquiry. Fortun- 
 
228 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHEHS 
 
 ately, it is not necessary for us to discuss the matter 
 with any minuteness of detail. Let us therefore 
 consider the question from a very broad and general 
 point of view. It stands thus : Each individual is 
 prompted to^action___byL- certain innate and inherent 
 impulses, good, bad, or indifferent ; he is more or less 
 dissatisfied with the actions to which he is thus 
 prompted, and he therefore exercises control over his 
 conduct so as to guide it to ends other than those 
 to which impulse prompts. That which we wish to 
 know is (1) what arethese otherjmds, and (2) what 
 are the motives for the guidance of conduct to these 
 ends? 
 
 To answer these questions in detail is, I repeat, a 
 matter of exceeding difficulty, involving much subtle 
 analysis ; but to answer them in the broad and general 
 way which suffices for our present purpose is not so 
 difficult. The " other ends," in all their varying com- 
 plexity under changing and differing circumstances, 
 may be summed up in a few words, which cover all 
 the multiplicity of their details. The self of impulse 
 does not satisfy, us; our end in view is to revise, 
 through guidance and control, onic^ideal self^ to attain 
 unto that "better, fuller, richer, truer self that we 
 would be, in place of the meagre and unsatisfactory 
 self that we are. This, it appears to me, is the 
 essential aim in the guidance of conduct. And what 
 are the motives for the guidance of conduct towards 
 the always incomplete, but, as we hope, the constantly 
 less incomplete, realisation of our ideal self ? This 
 
CHARACTER AND CONDUCT 229 
 
 question, too, difficult as it is to answer in detail, can 
 be answered in a general way almost in a word. The 
 ideal self must be an object of desire. Any approach 
 Thereto must be accompanied by the emotional tone 
 of satisfaction and content ; any falling away there- 
 from, by the emotional tone of dissatisfaction and 
 discontent. 
 
 In every individual character there is on the one 
 hand the self of^natural impulse, and on the other 
 hand the ideal self, not indeed clearly defined and 
 formulated, but seen, sometimes dimly, sometimes 
 with greater distinctness, in its different aspects under 
 the varying circumstances of life. And between 
 these two stands the product of their interaction, the 
 self as actually realised in practical conduct. This 
 self it is on the actions of which the bystanders 
 pronounce judgment a judgment which should be 
 softened by the fact that no one can say what is the 
 strength for good or ill of the impulsive promptings ; 
 while the nature of the ideal self, and the power of 
 control effectual to its realisation, are alike difficult of 
 estimation. 
 
 We seem, however, so far, to have left on one side 
 that which was said to be the keynote of this chapter. 
 The ideal self, it may be urged, is a purely individual 
 matter ; while the word " social " was said to strike 
 our keynote. But the ideal self is by no means a 
 purely individual matter. It is, indeed, individual to 
 me in so far as it is my ideal self which I desire to 
 realise in conduct ; but it is a social self, a self set in 
 
230 PSYCHOLOGY FOK TEACHERS 
 
 a complex social environment, that I must set before 
 myself as the goal of my endeavours. It is absolutely 
 impossible for us, even if we would, to shake ourselves 
 free of our social surroundings. We live in a com- 
 munity larger or smaller, and in reference to that 
 ^ community our conduct is largely moulded. 
 
 But though, since we are social beings, there is, in 
 the conception of an ideal self, tacit reference to the 
 community in the midst of which we carry on our 
 life and work, yet it will be well to bring this 
 important factor into due prominence. For not only 
 do we strive to realise an ideal self, but we endeavour 
 to modify and influence our neighbours ; and this 
 both in reference to their relations to ourselves, and 
 in respect of their relations to the community as a 
 whole. Hence we formulate with more or less dis- 
 tinctness an ideal community, to the realisation of 
 which we must contribute in every way in our power. 
 Herein, then, we appear to have in broad and general 
 outline the ends and aims of conduct ; and the task 
 of the tp.a,p,hp.r 171 this rp.spp.ct jwonld seein to be, in the 
 words of our-^fifth head, as stated at the beginning of 
 this chapter : To aid him whom we would educate to 
 reach right conceptions of an ideal self and an ideal 
 community ; and to foster an effective desire for their 
 practical realisation. 
 
 It must not be supposed that by the ideal self and 
 the ideal community I mean something dim, distant, 
 and Utopian ; something very pleasant and beautiful 
 to dream about, but having its place in the shadowy 
 
CHARACTER AND CONDUCT 231 
 
 cloudland of the unattainable. That is not at all my 
 meaning. If our ideals are incapable of at least 
 partial realisation, they will not be operative on 
 conduct. We may dream away our lives in admiring 
 them, and sighing at our impotency to attain unto 
 them, but we shall not be stimulated by them to 
 honest active endeavour. No. Our_j.dala.. must be 
 practical ; betterment rathp.r than a,bff n1i it- pprf potion 
 must be our d_evice. They must grow with our life, 
 and develop with our widening experience. Always 
 beyond and above us, leading us onward and upward, 
 our ideal must be distinctly, and yet not too far, in 
 advance of what has already been realised. For if at 
 any time our conduct should realise our ideal, a higher 
 ideal is forthwith conceived, and the interval is again 
 reconstituted. We are like climbers ascending a 
 mountain peak ; we see before us the summit in its 
 glittering beauty as the ultimate goal of our endeavours, 
 but to reach it we must ascend slowly and carefully, 
 fixing our attention on some vantage point just above 
 us, and when that is reached looking a little higher. 
 If we make straight for the ideal summit, we shall 
 probably fall into the first crevasse. But if we proceed 
 upwards slowly and surely, we may but here the 
 analogy fails. The summit of peritioft~4^ gondu^l} 
 
 we may not hope to reach. 
 ^- * -'- 
 
 It is hardly necessary to draw attention to the 
 fact that there is no uniformity, nay, let us rather 
 say that there is indefinite diversity_J.n thejdeals both 
 of self and community which different men and women 
 
232 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 conceive and endeavour to realise. This diversity^ 
 is indeed as wide as the diversity of human character. 
 And not only is it difficult or impossible to define the 
 social ideal (p. 217) in these matters; it is exceed- 
 ingly difficult to define the individual ideal in any 
 particular case. For the ideal, though it involves 
 cognitive elements, is not primarily a matter of cog- 
 nition ; nor does an ideal of conduct, any more than 
 an ideal of beauty, admit of that summary preciseness 
 of definition which is so eminently characteristic of 
 a purely intellectual generalisation. This man will 
 place self before the State or community at large, and 
 regard the realisation of individual character as the 
 highest object of endeavour. That man with broader 
 social sympathies will place first the realisation of an 
 ideal community, and will regard as essential to the 
 ideal self the due subordination of individual desires 
 to a desire for social well-being. For some the re- 
 lations of self to the State will constantly be viewed 
 in the light of expediency, and the means of attaining 
 the realisation of the ideal will be predominantly dic- 
 tated by prudence. For others the light in which 
 these relations are viewed is not that of the expedient 
 but that of the right, and the means of attaining the 
 realisation of the ideal will be predominantly dictated 
 by the sense of duty. For the one, any failure to 
 reach the ideal standard of conduct will Le accom- 
 panied by regret for error ; for the other, such failure 
 will give rise to .regret, rising perhaps to remorse, for 
 wrong. Moralists draw a very sharp line of demarca- 
 
CHAEACTER AND CONDUCT 233 
 
 tion between prudential motives and moral motives ; 
 and no doubt, as a matter of ethics, they are both wise 
 and right in doing so. But the difference is very 
 largely one of aspect. The same motive may be 
 prudential from one point of view, and right from 
 another point of view; and the action to which it 
 leads may satisfy at once the requirements both of 
 expediency and of duty. 
 
 But what is right ? What is duty_ ? It is ob- 
 viously quite impossible adequately to discuss these 
 questions. It must suffice to answer them from that 
 broad and general point of view from which we are 
 considering the whole subject. In the light of what 
 has already been said, the answer is not far to seek. 
 If there has taken form in the mind of any man or 
 woman an ideal self and an ideal community, then 
 any action which conduces to the realisation of that 
 .ideal is right ; any action which leads away from the 
 i nWMg_ wrrm g^ The constan^__endeavour jo__realise ( 
 the JdeaJLi^.on^^_duty. These answers may be, and 
 no doubt are, imperfect and inadequate ; but they will 
 be perhaps more serviceable to us in our practical 
 consideration of the subject than definitions involving 
 more subtle analysis. 
 
 And where, in these answers, is there place for that 
 cardinal principle of all vital ethics, a man's duty to 
 his neighbour ? In the first place, it may be replied, 
 that, as already indicated, my relations to my neigh- 
 bour form part of my ideal self, which is a self set 
 in a social environment. In the second place, it may 
 
234 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 be replied, that my neighbour is one of the con- 
 stituents of that practically existent State whose 
 betterment is an object implied in the ideal com- 
 munity which it is my desire to realise. Thus, my 
 duty to my neighbour, both as an individual in par- 
 ticular relations with myself, and as a member of the 
 social community, are by no means lost sight of. So 
 important, however, is this neighbourly relationship, 
 that it is scarcely possible to lay too much stress on 
 it. The ideal community is generalised and con- 
 ceptual ; my neighbour is its practical embodiment in 
 flesh and blood. 
 
 It is to my neighbour, also, thus before me in the 
 living flesh, that my sympathies go forth. Sympathy 
 is a matterjDf_J;haJ}_em^ attention 
 
 has already been directed. The performance of certain 
 actions carries with it a pleasurable, presentative, emo- 
 tional tone. When we see_siniilar_actioiis performed 
 by others, a 
 
 tone is called up. For example, one who is fond of 
 riding or swimming, and derives keen pleasure from 
 the exercise, experiences sympathetic pleasure when he 
 sees others in full enjoyment of a canter or a bathe. 
 So, too, the sight of sorrow or suffering calls forth in 
 us a sympathetic emotion as we put ourselves in the 
 place of the mourner or the patient. , And we are 
 wont to giveexpression to our sympathy : we jcoa- 
 gratulate the rider or the swimmer, if opportunity 
 serves, on his success ; we commiserate with the 
 mourner or patient. Nay, we go^fufther than this in 
 
^ 
 CHARACTER AND CONDUCT SIT23J 
 
 our sympathy. We take an active part in the pro- 
 motion of the happiness and well-being of our neigh- 
 bours, and in the alleviation of theiiL-^J^femg-_ J ajQiL 
 distress. To this, be_it__noted, we are_prompted br* 
 ouFsymg^M^^i^Z^s. But these impulses, no less 
 than those which are wholly self - regarding, need I 
 guidance and restraint under the control of the will. \ 
 For our sympathy may prompt us to actions which 
 on reflection will be seen to be neither prudent nor 
 right. Hence, even in this matter, so far as guidance 
 and control are concerned, we come back to our old 
 position : we endeavour to realise an ideal self whose I 
 
 _j3raipathy isunder wise and moral restraint. \ 
 
 One way in whichwe^express our sympathy is 
 through ayYfYrfikatiwn, a.nd disM.pp]rrihn.t.wn. We should 
 perhaps distinguish between (1) a mere sense of 
 approbation, which is' no more than a feeling of 
 sympathetic satisfaction, expressed or unexpressed ; 
 and (2) that 'more intellectual form of approbation 
 which implies the perception of the relation of that 
 which is approved to a standard or ideal of conduct. 
 ^Approbation thus stands in the same relation to 
 qonduct that appreciation does to literary or other 
 
 j art-products. Both imply a standard or ideal; both 
 express a judgment that the standard or ideal has or 
 has not been reached. In neither case need there be 
 any reference to the grounds of judgment. The 
 judgment expressed in approbation is no more sus- 
 ceptible of being stated in set syllogistic form than 
 is the judgment expressed in appreciation. Although 
 
236 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 there is here a social ideal analogous to that which we 
 briefly considered (p. 217) in connection with appreci- 
 ation, yet this is so deeply tinged with emotional tone, 
 and is so largely subjective in origin, that it does not 
 admit of that universal acceptance which is character- 
 istic of the premises of the syllogism. 
 , There can be no question as to the exceeding 
 importance of approbation and disapprobation lis^de- 
 terminants of conduct. Much depends here, however, 
 upon the amount of sympathy. The unsympathetic 
 person is veryi ]itt^LJiifluced-J^ ; 
 
 approbation and disapprobation do not to any marked 
 extent cause any alteration in his course through life. 
 On the other hand, the man of artis tic__temperamen t 
 is one who is generally^eenly^ sensitive to^approbation , 
 and one whose naturally strong impulses, self-regarding 
 and sympathetic, are perhaps more readily guided 
 under the influence of the praise and blame of those 
 who move within his special artistic circle of those, 
 that is to say, with whom he is in sympathy - 
 than under the influence of any other motives. His 
 ideal self is essentially one with which others must 
 keenly and enthusiastically sympathise. 
 
 One question may here be suggested before we pass 
 on. If a man have framed low and sordid ideals 
 and we cannot blind ourselves to the fact that this 
 may only too often be the case is it his duty to 
 endeavour to realise them ? Is it not rather his duty 
 to frame and endeavour to realise better and nobler 
 ideals ? To this question we must reply that it is a 
 
CHARACTER AND CONDUCT 237 
 
 man's duty to act, so far as he can, in accordance with 
 his_own_standard of conduct,whatever that standard 
 may be. It is unfortunately the only real standard 
 he has. When we speak of better and nobler ideals, 
 they are our ideals, not his. And no doubt it is a 
 duty for us who pass this judgment to do what we 
 can to raise his ideals. The question, however, once 
 more brings into prominence the social ideal, by which 
 is meant, not the average ideal of all the members of 
 the community, but the ideal of those who, by general 
 consent of those who are specially fitted to express an 
 opinion in the matter, represent the community at its 
 best. Although we cannot say, in the light of our 
 guiding principle, that it is a man's duty to endeavour 
 to act up to this social ideal if it be not also his own 
 ideal, yet we may say that it is the_duty.^jof__tha j 
 community jn^ which such social MeaLhas taken-iorm, 
 to take all reasonable 
 
 about the realisation of that ideal by all 
 And it is at once the duty and the privilege of the 
 teacher, who is in this respect the more or less 
 accredited agent of the community, to do all in his 
 power to set before his pupils the social ideal of 
 character and conduct. 
 
 We have now to consider how the influence of the 
 teacher may most effectively be brought to bear on 
 those with whom he has to deal. The first point to 
 notice is that the teaching should be mainly indirect. 
 That is to say, the most effectual method is not the 
 inculcation of moral maxims, not the supply of a 
 
238 PSYCHOLOGY FOE TEACHEES 
 
 certain amount of ethical material to cognition for 
 intellectual assimilation, but an insensible moral _and 
 prudential influence ever jxresent as a wholesomejuirl 
 stimulating atmosphere. Ideals of conduct, like ideals 
 of literary beauty, cannot be directly imparted; all 
 that we can do is to foster their growth and insensibly 
 to influence the direction of that growth. 
 
 We may take itjbhat the actions of the little child 
 are at first wholly impulsive, and that the impulses 
 are in the early days of life altogether self-regarding. 
 The sympathetic impulses conie^ later ; and these, so 
 soon as they appear, must be fostered and guided. It 
 is presumably to the mother that interestj-nd^ymgathy 
 are first extended. But gradually this sympathy 
 widens, embracing the nurse, father, sisters, brothers, 
 and, perhaps, the fourfooted playmates. For some 
 time, however, the home, with its immediate surround- 
 ings and branches, forms the utmost extent of the 
 emotional impulses. There is as yet no room in the 
 heart for more extended interests and sympathies. 
 But ere long the time comes when the school, the 
 parish cTr town, the native land, and perhaps eventually 
 the whole brotherhood of man, come in for their share 
 of the awakening emotional impulses ; esprit de corps, 
 patriotism, and perhaps universalism, have their birth. 
 
 And ^ajjje fympithinr wirlpn rmrl tli> gyrppfljJTAb'p. 
 
 impulses Jbfifioma-morQ oxtoadecLin, their range, more 
 or less definite ideals of conduct take form in the 
 mind, self-control is established, and reason guides the 
 impulses to ends which gain the approval of conscience 
 
CHARACTEIt AND CONDUCT 239 
 
 and of common sense. It is part of the aim of* 
 education to afford the most satisfactory conditions 
 for the formation of right and wise ideals ; of a frank, 
 courageous, true, and pure ideal self, and of an ideal 
 community in which co-operation to the best and 
 highest ends is an object of endeavour among all the 
 members. 
 
 The personal and magnetic influence of the teacher, 
 whether the teacher be the parent or anothe?, is 
 here of great importance. The influence is more 
 by example than by precept. At all events, when 
 example in any way contradicts precept, it is the 
 former rather than the latter that will be influential, 
 precepts not acted upon being regarded as shams, and 
 tending to weaken the influence not only of precept 
 but also of example. 
 
 In school-life, the general tone of the community, 
 which at this stage of life represents the State, is of 
 enormous importance. Nothing is of more vital 
 moment in a great school than the social standard 
 of " good form " that is developed therein. It is 
 scarcely too much to say that the schoolboy's conduct 
 is more strongly influenced by a desire to conform 
 to the school standard of usage and current opinion 
 than by any other motive. For one who throws him- 
 self heartily into the school-life, the stigma of " bad 
 form " is something to be avoided at all hazards. 
 And though the standard of " form " may alter as we 
 go through life, yet the desire to conform to social 
 usage, and so to act as to win social approbation and 
 
240 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 to escape social disapprobation, is, it would seem, the 
 predominant motive with the majority of us, so long as 
 it does not directly conflict with prudential self-interest. 
 Happy the school, therefore, and happy the community, 
 which possesses a high standard of social usage and 
 custom ; which possesses, in a word, a high social ideal 
 of what the community should be and should do. 
 
 In the study of history splendid opportunities are 
 afforded to the teacher of giving an indirect impetus 
 to the development in the pupil's mind both of the 
 ideal self and of the ideal community. For history 
 presents us with concrete examples of strenuous 
 endeavour towards the realisation both of individual 
 character and of a better social condition of the com- 
 munity at large. However open it may be to criticism 
 from the point of view of the scientific historian, there 
 can be no question that hero-worship is of great im- _ 
 portance in the development of the character of the 
 worshipper. Hence it has been said: Tell me a man's 
 heroes, and I will read you his character. I have 
 before said that one of the main points of value of 
 history as a school subject, and even as a subject for 
 our bigger schoolboys at the university, is that it 
 widens the sympathies. I would now add that, while 
 it widens the sympathies, it also affords concrete 
 ) examples of jynduct and picturesque material for an 
 insensible and unobtrusive training in approbation and 
 disapprobation. It also affords us the material for 
 drawing the distinction, with reference to concrete 
 examples, between merit and virtue. There are some 
 
CHAKACTER AND CONDUCT 241 
 
 types of character so happily constituted that we may 
 say of them that there is no merit in their virtue. 
 For merit is proportional to the struggle. And there's 
 many a schoolboy, in whom self-mastery is not yet 
 established, whose half-won goodness, under difficult 
 circumstances, is more meritorious than the easy self- 
 denial of one of maturer years. 
 
 Literature, too, as well as history, affords concrete 
 examples of conduct which should be utilised by the 
 teacher in the same unobtrusive and insensible fashion, 
 not moralising and preaching from the literary text, 
 but stimulating, by his own enthusiasm for certain | 
 excellencies of character, a like enthusiasm in the 
 minds of his pupils. In many cases the literary 
 artist has had in view this wholesome influence on his 
 readers in the creation of his characters. It is part 
 of his aim to subtly indicate through the portrayal of 
 character what is his own ideal self and what his 
 ideal community. And it is one of the functions of 
 the artist to lead us to see, through the delicate 
 emphasis which characterises his synthesis, features 
 which would otherwise have escaped our duller vision. 
 As Browning says in his Fra Lippo Lippi 
 
 ''For, don't you mark? we're made so that we love 
 First when we see them painted, things we have passed 
 Perhaps a hundred times nor cared to see ; 
 And so they are better, painted better to us, 
 Which is the same thing. Art was given for that : 
 God uses us to help each other so, 
 Lending our minds out." 
 
 What we have to do as teachers 19 to "lend our 
 16 
 
242 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 minds out '' to the best possible purpose. For we too 
 are artists ; and the materials with which we have to 
 deal are human minds and their environment. We 
 have so to organise the conditions of growth that 
 there shall result the development of fine character 
 and right conduct. As alreadyj:>ointed out, we are 
 mainly j^workjrpoiLJbhe mental background. It is 
 our object to make this background as rich and full 
 and orderly as possible, so that whatever is brought 
 to the focus of consciousness shall be set in a rela- 
 tional background which shall give it meaning ; and 
 so that our pupils may be able to feel the truth of 
 the words which Browning puts into the mouth of Fra 
 Lippo Lippi in a passage which follows closely upon 
 that which I have just quoted 
 
 "This world's no blot for us 
 Nor blank ; it means intensely, and means good : 
 To find its meaning is my meat and drink." 
 
 And, once more, so that not only the intellect may be 
 stirred, but the whole background thrill with emo- 
 tional tone, and our pupil may again exclaim with 
 Browning 
 
 "0 world, as God has made it! all is beauty: 
 And knowing this is love, and love is duty." 
 
 There can be no question that this adequate pre- 
 paredness of the background oT which I am speaking 
 adds enormously to our^ enjoyment as well as to our 
 power! I stood afew days ago on the battlements 
 of Stirling Castle, and, having at length dispensed 
 with the kindly importunities of the guide, looked 
 
CHARACTER AND CONDUCT 243 
 
 round on a scene which, even to my imperfect know- 
 ledge of Scottish history, was set in a background 
 splendidly rich in noble, unselfish, and patriotic 
 endeavour. As I stood and felt that the heroes who 
 had breathed their undying spirit on the place were 
 actuated by noble ideals both of self and State, a 
 guide came round discoursing in set phrase of places 
 and dates. A worthy Cockney turned to me, whom 
 apparently he recognised as a brother Cockney for 
 I too was born within the sound of Bow Bells and 
 said, " I don't think much of this place. It ain't a 
 patch on the Tower of London. But a lot of Johnnies 
 seem to have worried around here." I fear his back- 
 ground was terribly meagre. He told me that it was 
 the block and headsman's axe that interested him 
 most in the Tower of London ; and he seemed to have 
 some slight glow of enthusiasm when the guide indi- 
 cated the position of the Heading Hill and Stone, and 
 spoke of the execution of the Duke of Albany and his 
 two sons, with his father-in-law the Earl of Lennox. 
 Then he began to feel that he had not come to 
 Stirling quite in vain. 
 
 Think what a man misses from the point of view 
 of pure enjoyment if the^background of consciousness 
 be nowise prepared by a knowledge of the great deeds__ 
 which are recorded in the pages of history, and by a 
 knowledge of what men of action and men of thought 
 have done not only for their own time but also for us. 
 They enter, if indeed it be worth their while, Words- 
 worth's cottage at G-rasmere, and leave it with a shrug 
 
244 PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 of the shoulders, saying that they suppose it was 
 good enough for a poet. They pass through the village 
 of Chalfont St. Giles, and do not think it worth while 
 to look into the little room in which Paradise Lost 
 received its finishing touches. They go to Stratford- 
 on-Avon, and wonder what makes Americans flock 
 thither. But it is with the effect on character and 
 conduct that I am now chiefly concerned. The man 
 who, from poverty of mental background, is stirred by 
 none of these things, misses an influence on character 
 and a stimulus to conduct which are of incalculable 
 value. A soldier whom I met some time ago told me 
 that, when he was a young subaltern, and was getting 
 slack, as he expressed it, he was pulled together by 
 a pithy but effective remark of his superior officer. 
 " Take care," he said ; " you're forgetting Wellington, 
 and the history and traditions of the army." There's 
 many a lad who has been spurred to his best endeav- 
 our, and restrained from a mean or ignoble act, by the 
 flashing across his mind of the name and figure of 
 one of his heroes in history or in fiction. A man of 
 science, who himself did good work in physics, told me 
 that, \vhenever he scamped an experiment, he saw the 
 grave, reproving eyes of Faraday fixed upon him. 
 
 There is one influence on character and conduct of 
 which I have not spoken, and of which I feel it diffi- 
 cult to speak the religious influence. It is a matter 
 on which it is easy not to say the right thing to say, 
 rather, what may not be helpful, and may lead to 
 misunderstanding, even if it do not give offence. I 
 
CHARACTER AND CONDUCT 245 
 
 shall therefore content myself with one or two re- 
 marks, with the object of bringing this influence into 
 line with our mode of regarding the subject. First, 
 let me say, then, that any great religion, worthy the * 
 name, presents a concrete personal embodiment of the 
 ideal self. For the Christian, Christ is the type of 
 the perfect self, and the imitation of Christ is a means 
 to the attainment of self-realisation. And for him 
 Christ's teaching embodies, in essential outline, the 
 fundamental relationship which characterise the ideal 
 community. Until we learn the lesson that antagon- 
 istic self-assertion, or class assertion, must be sub- 
 ordinated to the mutual self-sacrifice which is necessary 
 for co-operation, we shall never practically solve the 
 social problems not only of our own time, but of all 
 time. Secondly, I would say that the essence of 
 religious teaching, in so far as it is influential upon 
 character and conduct, is rather^Jjie^ deyelopment^oL-. 
 what we may term the religious Attitude,, than the 
 f ormulation or acceptance of religious creeds. Assum- 
 ing as granted the existence of a power or central 
 activity, whether immanent or external, of which the 
 world in which we live is the phenomenal manifest- 
 ation, I say that the essential feature of our relation 
 to that power is not the intellectual attitude of accept- 
 ing this or that formula, but tEe]religio^s_attjjudg^of 
 submission and humility ; of reverence of all that "is 
 noble, pure, and honourable, as the highest expression 
 of God's will. For we clothe the conception of an 
 energising activity with our highest and most sublime 
 
PSYCHOLOGY FOR TEACHERS 
 
 iiieals, and name Him in humility and reverence God. 
 And when we endeavour to realise our highest ideals 
 of personal conduct and character in relation to our 
 fellow-men, we do so, if the religious attitude is influ- 
 ential on conduct, not only for their own sake, but as 
 duties which are sanctioned by religion. 
 
 Finally, let me once more say that^ our desire to 
 lead a wise, right, and religious life must be inex- 
 tricably inwoven into the mental background which, 
 as we have seen, 15 tEe seat of the character. And 
 let us remember that in every act oF~our lives, no 
 matter hojauigjvj.aj^jga-^irG laying the fo*uidation_of_ all 
 our f uturg cojxdact. As Miss Edith Simcox has said, 
 " Does it seem a trifling thing to say that in hours of 
 passionate trial or temptation a man can have no 
 better help than his own past ? Every generous 
 feeling that has not been crushed, every wholesome 
 impulse that has been followed, every just perception, 
 every habit of unselfish action, will be present in the 
 background to guide and to restrain. It is too late when 
 the storm has burst to provide our craft with rigging 
 fit to weather it ; but we may find a purpose for th& 
 years which oppress us by their dull calm, if we elect 
 to spend them in laying up stores of strength and 
 wisdom and emotional prejudices of a goodly human 
 kind, whereby, if need arises, we may be able to resist 
 hereafter the gusts of passion that might else bear us 
 out of the straightforward chosen course/' 
 
tv. 
 
 r 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 ABSTRACT ideas, 21, 23, 120. 
 
 Abstraction, 120 ; relation of, to 
 analysis and generalisation, 120. 
 
 Activity-feelings, 154. 
 
 .Esthetic tone, 168, 211. 
 
 Analysis, 3, 53, 78 ; dissociating, 
 99 ; distinguishing, 100 ; nature 
 of, 101 ; subjective, 103 ; relation 
 to perception, 104 ; in spelling 
 and pronunciation, 106 ; relation 
 of abstraction to, 120; of sen- 
 tences, 183. 
 
 Anger, emotional tone of, 155, 156. 
 
 Angles, quantitative perception of 
 their value, 90. 
 
 Appreciation in literature, 197-98. 
 210. 
 
 Apprehension, 126. 
 
 Approbation and disapprobation, 
 235. 
 
 Art- work of literature and science, 
 219. 
 
 Articulation, 208. 
 
 Artist, function of, 240. 
 
 Artistic temperament, 236. 
 
 Association, laws of, 28 ; contiguity, 
 28 ; divergent and convergent, 
 36 ; similarity and resemblance, 
 41, 166 ; influence of marginal 
 conditions, 46; simultaneous, 47. 
 
 Assumption involved in definition 
 of natural law, 130. 
 
 At-sight reading, 210. 
 
 Attention, 4, 11, 48 ; divided, 12. 
 
 Attraction of gravitation defined, 
 130. 
 
 Automatic actions, 54. 
 
 Automatism, inherited, 66, 73 ; 
 secondary, 67, 73. 
 
 BACKGROUND, mental, 53; the seat 
 of the character, 151 ; influence 
 of, in aesthetics, 212 ; relational 
 nature of, 219 ; influence of, on 
 character and conduct, 241. 
 
 Balance, experiments with, 135. 
 
 "Because" symbolic of logical re- 
 lation, 124. 
 
 BLACKMORE, Mr. R. D., quoted, 
 208. 
 
 Body and mind compared, 146. 
 
 Botany, value of, for analysis, 101 ; 
 for apprehension and description, 
 133. 
 
 BROWNING, Robert, quoted, 206, 
 211, 241, 242. 
 
 CHARACTER and conduct, 225. 
 
 Chemistry, value of, 135. 
 
 Classification, 86, 118. 
 
 Cognition, 24, 154 ; in literary 
 appreciation, 210. 
 
 COLERIDGE quoted, 218. 
 
 Communication, indicative, 171 ; 
 descriptive, 172. 
 
 Community, the ideal, 230. 
 
 Composition, 184. 
 
 Comprehension, 126. 
 
 Concept, 24 ; relation of, to percept, 
 115. 
 
 Conception, 21, 108 ; relation of, to 
 perception, 110, 112 ; to know- 
 ledge, 113 ; and quantitative re- 
 lations, 113. 
 
 ^ 
 v ^ A 
 
248 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Conclusion of syllogism, 142. 
 Conclusions, jumping to, 166. 
 Conduct and character, 225. 
 Consciousness, state of, 2 ; focus 
 
 and margin of, 4. 
 Consentience, 84. 
 Contiguity, law of, 28. 
 Control, 55, 57, 63 ; essentially 
 
 motor, 157, 159 ; in conduct, 
 
 227. 
 
 Co-ordination, 56, 61, 73, 75. 
 Correlation, 55, 57, 59, 61, 62, 65, 
 
 72. 
 
 Cramming, 149. 
 Crucial observation or experiment, 
 
 137. 
 
 DATES, value of, 194. 
 
 Deduction, 143. 
 
 Definition, 119 ; and description, 
 124. 
 
 Demonstration, 160. 
 
 Description, involves particular re- 
 lations, 123 ; and definition, 
 124 ; involves analysis, 127 ; 
 precursor to explanation, 131 ; 
 relation of, to observation, 132, 
 134, 164. 
 
 Desire, ideal self an object of, 229. 
 
 Development, mental and bodily, 
 analogous, 146 ; should be all- 
 round, 149. 
 
 DE VEEE, Aubrey (the younger), 
 quoted, 226. 
 
 Diagrammatic representation, 
 method of, 188. 
 
 Direction, sense of, 7. 
 
 Disapprobation, 235. 
 
 Discontent a spur to endeavour, 
 160. 
 
 Distance element in vision, 58. 
 
 Distinguishing analysis, 100 ; re- 
 lation of, to abstraction, 120. 
 
 Dread, emotional tone of, 157. 
 
 Duty, 223. 
 
 EAR, appeal of literature to the, 
 
 206. 
 
 Earth, rotation of, proved, 138. 
 Earth-moon system, rotation of, 
 
 illustrated, 137. 
 Education begins in nursery, 170. 
 
 Elocution, 198, 207. 
 
 Emotional aspect of consciousness, 
 155 ; tone, 155 ; aesthetic, 211. 
 
 Examination in literature, what it 
 tests, 200. 
 
 Example and precept, 238. 
 
 Expectations, 31. 
 
 Experience, 53, 60, 73, 80 ; sub- 
 jective and objective aspects of, 
 77 ; and abstract thought, 121. 
 
 Experiment, nature of, 134 ; cru- 
 cial, 137. 
 
 Explanation involves generalisa- 
 tion, 124 ; nature of, 125 ; involves 
 analysis, 127; not ultimate, 129; 
 involves assumptions, 130 ; re- 
 lation of, to description and ob- 
 servation, 134. 
 
 Exposition, description and ex- 
 planation in, 131. 
 
 Eye-movements of value in esti- 
 mating length, 89, 188. 
 
 FACULTY, 19. 
 
 Fallacies, 144. 
 
 Feeling, 154. 
 
 Field, of touch, 57 ; of vision, 57 ; 
 of experience, 60. 
 
 Focus of consciousness defined, 4 ; 
 differentiation from margin pre- 
 paratory to analysis, 100. 
 
 Foreign languages, study of, 185. 
 
 Foucault's pendulum, 139. 
 
 French and German, 186. 
 
 GAMES, value of, 70, 161. 
 General ideas, 108. 
 Generalisation, 21, 107. 
 Generic ideas, 16, 42, 117. 
 Geography, value of, 195. 
 Geology as descriptive, 132. 
 Geometry, 188. 
 German and French, 186. 
 Good form, 238. 
 Grammar, 183. 
 Graphic method, 192. 
 Gravitation, 128, 130. 
 Greek, value of, 187. 
 
 HABIT, 66. 
 
 Harmony in literature, 211. 
 
 Hero-worship, 239. 
 
INDEX 
 
 249 
 
 History, value of, 193, 240. 
 
 "How" attitude, 163. 
 
 How? requires descriptive answer, 
 
 122. 
 Hypotheses, nature of, 137. 
 
 IDEAL, literary, 215 ; social, 217, 
 232 ; self, 228 ; community, 230. 
 
 Idealism in literature, 203. 
 
 Ideas of sense denned, 13, 72 ; of 
 relation, 18, 96 ; generic, 16, 42 ; 
 abstract, 21 ; general, 108, 109. 
 
 Imagination, 52, 165 ; creative, 
 166, 168, 202 ; receptive, 198, 
 202 ; active and passive, 201 ; 
 artistic, inventive, and scientific, 
 201. 
 
 Imitation, 160. 
 
 Impression defined, 5, 72; of special 
 senses, 6 ; motor, 8 ; internal, 9 ; of 
 direction, 7 ; of relation, 18, 96. 
 
 Impulse, sympathetic, 235 ; im- 
 pulsive activity, 159, 226. 
 
 Indicative communication, 171. 
 
 Individuality, 199. 
 
 Induction, 143. 
 
 Inexplicable observations, value of, 
 180. 
 
 Information, 162. 
 
 Inheritance, 61, 63 ; what we in- 
 herit, 151. 
 
 Innate tendencies, 153. 
 
 Insight, 165. 
 
 Inspiration, 165. 
 
 Instinctive activities, 153. 
 
 Instruction in skill, 1 60. 
 
 Intellectual process, aesthetic tone 
 associated with, 212. 
 
 Interaction of perception and 
 analysis, 104 ; of perception and 
 conception, 112, 116, 121 ; of 
 observation, apprehension, and 
 comprehension, 134. 
 
 Interest, 48, 163. 
 
 Interpretation of nature, literary 
 and scientific, 218. 
 
 Inter-relation of knowledge, 180. 
 
 Introspection, 2, 76 ; deals with 
 past experience, 83 ; and subject- 
 ive analysis, 103. 
 
 Intuition, 165. 
 
 Intuitive procedure, 166. 
 
 JUDGMENT, nature of, 212, 215, 235 ; 
 logical arid literary, compared, 
 
 216 ; on character, 229. 
 
 KINDERGARTEN, 174. 
 Knowledge, in what it consists, 
 113, 180. 
 
 LANGUAGE, atmosphere of, 170 ; a 
 symbolic expression of thought, 
 177 ; the medium of the com- 
 munication of knowledge, 181 ; 
 of literature, 182 ; of science, 
 182 ; foreign, study of, 185. 
 
 Latin, value of, 185. 
 
 Laws of nature generalisations and 
 definitions, 129. 
 
 Learning by rote, 37. 
 
 Lever, experiments with, 135. 
 
 Literature, 197 ; and science, 204, 
 
 217 ; varieties of, 205 ; as afford- 
 ing ideals of conduct, 240. 
 
 Localisation in space, 195 ; localisa- 
 tion in time, 193. 
 
 Logic the afterthought to insight, 
 167. 
 
 Logical relations, 139 ; perceived 
 and conceived in reasoning, 145. 
 
 LOWELL quoted, 198, 202. 
 
 MACAULAY quoted, 212. 
 
 Mannerism to be avoided, 208. 
 
 Margin of consciousness defined, 4 ; 
 correlation effected in, 62 ; dif- 
 ferentiation of focus from, pre- 
 paratory to analysis, 100. 
 
 Mathematics, 187. 
 
 Meaning and significance, 179. 
 
 Melody in literature, relations in- 
 volved in, 211. 
 
 Melody of prose, 208. 
 
 Memory, 27. 
 
 Mind and body compared, 146. 
 
 Ministry of teacher, aims of, 223. 
 
 Moon, swing of, round the earth 
 illustrated, 137. 
 
 Moral motives, 232. 
 
 Motives of conduct, 227. 
 
 Motor impressions, 8 ; ideas, 14. 
 
 Movement for vision and for motor 
 sensation correlated, 59. 
 
 MOZART quoted, 214. 
 
250 
 
 INDEX 
 
 NATURAL law, generalisations from 
 experience and definitions, 129. 
 
 Natural synthesis, 58, 147. 
 
 Nature, interpretation of, literary 
 and scientific, 218. 
 
 Neighbour, duty to, 233. 
 
 Numerical relations, 88. 
 
 OBJECT in psychology, 79, 83. 
 
 Objective aspect of experience, 77, 
 81. 
 
 Observation, relation of, to descrip- 
 tion, 132, 134, 164; and ex- 
 planation, 134 ; crucial, 137 ; 
 necessary both in literature and 
 science. 
 
 Organic conditions, of memory, 28 ; 
 of consciousness, 147, 152. 
 
 PAIN, 156. 
 
 Pendulum, experiment with, 138 ; 
 Foucault's, 139. 
 
 Percept, 24, 98, 105 ; relation of, to 
 concept, 115. 
 
 Perception, 19, 74, 80 ; compound, 
 92 ; training of, 85 ; deals with 
 particular relations, 96 ; relation 
 of, to analysis, 104 ; to concep- 
 tion, 110, 112; to knowledge, 11 3. 
 
 Physics, value of, 135. 
 
 Pictures and association, 33 ; as a 
 means of communication, 173. 
 
 Pity, emotional tone of, 155. 
 
 Pleasure and pain, 155. 
 
 Poetry, its suggestive nature, 220. 
 
 Precept and example, 238. 
 
 Predicate of proportion, 140. 
 
 Predominance in analysis, 101 ; in 
 perception, 104. 
 
 Predominant leading up to abstract 
 ideas, 23. 
 
 Premises of syllogism, 141. 
 
 Presentative and re - presentative^ 
 defined, 13, 71. 
 
 Promptings of impulse, 227. 
 
 Pronunciation, correlations in, 75 ; 
 analysis of, 106. 
 
 Proposition, nature* of, 140 ; of 
 syllogism described, 142. 
 
 Provincialism and mannerism to be 
 avoided, 208. 
 
 Prudential motives, 232. 
 
 Psychological import of subjects 
 
 commonly taught, 183. 
 Psychology defined, 2. 
 Punishment, 40. 
 
 QUANTITATIVE relations, 87. 
 
 RATIONAL, what determines when 
 the child becomes, 145-165. 
 
 Reading aloud, 199 ; and writing, 
 176. 
 
 Realism in literature, 203. 
 
 Reason, the ballast to imagination, 
 167. 
 
 Reason and reasoning defined, 145. 
 
 Receptivity, 162. 
 
 Recitation, importance of, 198. 
 
 Recollection, 28 ; the art of, 49. 
 
 Record-scrolls for time localisation, 
 194. 
 
 Reflection, 82, 109. 
 
 Reflex actions, 54. 
 
 Relations, 18, 80 ; quantitative, 87; 
 numerical, 88 ; logical, 124; emo- 
 tional tone associated with, 211. 
 
 Religious attitude, 245. 
 
 Religious influence, 244. 
 
 Remembrance, 28. 
 
 Re-presentative defined, 13, 71. 
 
 Resemblance, suggestion by, 41. 
 
 Retentiveness, 28. 
 
 Retrospection, 84. 
 
 Reverie, nature of, 52. 
 
 Rewards and punishments, 39. 
 
 Right, 233. 
 
 Rotation of earth, Foucault's crucial 
 experiment, 138. 
 
 SCIENCE, in mental training, 192; 
 and literature, 204, 217. 
 
 Scientism, 219. 
 
 Self, the ideal, 228. 
 
 Self- consistence in the products of 
 the imagi nation, 167. 
 
 Self-control, 158, 160. 
 
 Sencept, 24, 97, 153. 
 
 Sensation and sensations, 19. 
 
 Sense of direction, 7. 
 
 Sense-experience, 19, 84; relation 
 of, to perception, 106; to know- 
 ledge, 113 ; to percept and con- 
 cept, 116. 
 
INDEX 
 
 251 
 
 Sense-fading, 26, 27 ; value of, in per- 
 ceiving time-relations, 94. 
 
 Sense-ideas, 14. 
 
 Sense-impressions, 6. 
 
 Sensing, as a technical term, 84. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE quoted, 214. 
 
 Significance, direct andindirect, 178. 
 
 SIMCOX, Miss Edith, quoted, 246. 
 
 Similarity, suggestion by, 41, 166. 
 
 Similarity and dissimilarity, 86. 
 
 Skill, 10, 56, 65, 67, 70. 
 
 Slojd, value of, 68, 89. 
 
 Snubbing, 167. 
 
 Social ideal, denned, 217 ; of con- 
 duct, 232, 237. 
 
 Social influence, 225. 
 
 Space, localisation, 195. 
 
 Space-relation, perception of, linear, 
 89 ; superficial area, 91 ; cubical 
 volume, 92. 
 
 Spelling, analysis and synthesis of, 
 35, 106. 
 
 Spelling reforms, 107. 
 
 Standard, literary or ideal, 215. 
 
 Stimuli, 54. 
 
 Subconscious elements, 4 ; corre- 
 lation, 62, 76. 
 
 Subject in psychology, 79 ; of pro- 
 position, 140. 
 
 Subjective anajysis^ 103. 
 
 Subjective aspect of experience, 77, 
 81. 
 
 Suggestion, by resemblance, 41 ; by 
 contrast, 42 ; by similarity, 43 ; 
 in poetry, 43 ; in science, 45. 
 
 Suspense, figure of, 212. 
 
 Syllogism, 141. 
 
 Sympathetic impulses, 235, 238. 
 
 Sympathy, 39, 234. 
 
 Synthesis, mental, involuntary, 58 ; 
 natural, 147 ; as the complement 
 to analysis, voluntary, 105. 
 
 TEACHER, office of the, 148, 223, 
 
 236. 
 Technical instruction, value and 
 
 danger of, 219. 
 Technical terms, 182. 
 TENNYSON quoted, 43, 44, 45, 197, 
 
 202, 215. 
 
 Terms, technical, 182. 
 "Therefore" symbolic of logical 
 
 relation, 124 ; dependent on 
 
 uniformity of nature, of thought, 
 
 and of terminology, 144. 
 Thought, involves conception, 112 ; 
 
 and experience, 121; unity of, 180. 
 Time-localisation, 193. 
 Time - relations, perception of, 93 ; 
 
 translated into space - relations, 
 
 95. 
 
 Tradition, oral and pictorial, 174. 
 Transitions in consciousness, 18, 82. 
 
 UNDERSTANDING, 126. 
 Uniformity of nature, 143 ; of 
 thought, and of terminology, 144. 
 
 VISION, field of, motor elements in, 
 
 58. 
 Volition, 158. 
 
 WATSON, Mr. Wm., quoted, 221. 
 
 WHITMAN quoted, 209. 
 
 " Why " attitude, 164. 
 
 Why ? requires explanatory answer, 
 122. 
 
 Will, the, 63, 158, 161. 
 
 Words, association of, with impres- 
 sions, 33 ; for relations perceived 
 and conceived the same, 111, 115, 
 117 ; an aid to classification, 119 ; 
 and sencepts, 170. 
 
 WORDSWORTH quoted, 209, 214. 
 
 Written record, 176. 
 
 -fceesE 
 
 OF THE N 
 
 [UNIVERSITY' 
 
 MORRISON AND GIBB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH. 
 
ME, EWABD ARNOLD'S 
 
 GENERAL CATALOGUE 
 
 OF 
 
 EDUCATIONAL WORKS 
 
 INCLUDING THE PRINCIPAL PUBLICATIONS OF 
 MESSES. GINN & COMPANY, BOSTON AND NEW YORK. 
 
 JULY, 1895. 
 
 EDWARD ARNOLD, 
 to fyt JEtrtrta 
 
 LONDON: NEW YORK: 
 
 37, BEDFORD STREET, W.C. 70, FIFTH AVENUE. 
 
MB. EDWARD ARNOLD'S EDUCATIONAL 
 CATALOGUE. 
 
 SUMMARY OF CONTENTS. 
 
 ENGLISH 
 
 ANGLO-SAXON 
 
 FRENCH 
 
 GERMAN 
 
 SPANISH 
 
 LATIN 
 
 GREEK 
 
 SANSKRIT, ETC. 
 
 MATHEMATICS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGB 
 
 7 
 
 SCIENCE 
 
 43 
 
 20 
 
 TECHNOLOGY 
 
 49 
 
 22 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 50 
 
 26 
 
 GEOGRAPHY 
 
 53 
 
 27 
 
 SCRIPTURE HISTORY 
 
 54 
 
 28 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 55 
 
 33 
 
 POLITICS AND ECONOMIC 
 
 S 57 
 
 36 
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 58 
 
 38 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS 
 
 61 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Addison : Criticisms on Paradise Lost, 15. 
 
 Aglen : Lessons in Old Testament History, 54. 
 
 Allen : Annals of Tacitus, 32 ; Germaniaand Agricola, 31 ; Prometheus 
 
 Vinctus, 34 ; Remnants of Early Latin, 31 ; Reader's Guide 
 to English History, 52 
 Allen and Greenough: Latin Grammar, 29; Caesar, 30; Cicero, 30; 
 
 Ovid, 30. 
 
 American Philological Association, Transactions of, 61, 
 Andrev s : Droyson's Principles of History, 52. 
 Anglo-Saxon Poetry, Library of, 20. 
 Arnold : English Readers, 7. 
 Arnold : English Reading Course, 7. 
 Arnold : Infant School Course, 7. 
 Arnold : Geography Readers, 8. 
 Arnold : History Readers, 8. 
 Arnold : Bible Readers, 9. 
 Arnold : Domestic Readers, 8. 
 Arnold: Object Lesson Readers, 9. 
 Arnold : Unseen Readers, 9. 
 Arnold : British Classics for Schools, 18. 
 Arnold : Composition Books and Cards, 10, 
 Arnold: English Literature Series, 11. 
 Arnold : School Shakespeare, 16. 
 Arrowsmith : Kaegi's Rigveda, 37. 
 Barnard : Richard III., 16. 
 
 Baldwin : Inflections and Syntax of the Morte d' Arthur, 15, 
 Baskerville : Andreas, 20. 
 Becker and Mora : Spanish Idioms, 27. 
 Beckwith : Euripides' Bacchantes, 34. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Bell (Mrs. Hugh) : French without Tears, 22 ; Kleines Haus Theater, 26. 
 
 Bennett : - Hellenica, V. VII., 34 ; Tacitus Dialogus de Oratoribus, 32. 
 
 Benson and Tatham : Men of Might, 51. 
 
 Birds and their Eggs, Pictures of, 62. 
 
 Boielle : Richebourg : Le Million du Pkre Raclot, 23 ; First French 
 Course, 22 ; StahPs Maroussia, 23 ; Balzac's Tene'breuse 
 Affaire, 24; Hugo's Quatrevingt Treize, 24; H. Greville's 
 Perdue, 25. 
 
 Bond : Introduction to English Grammar and Analysis, 12. 
 
 Browne : Shakspere's Versification, 14. 
 
 Bryan : The Mark in Europe and America, 57. 
 
 Burgess : Political Science, 57. 
 
 Butler (A. J.) : Select Essays of Ste. Beuve, 18. 
 
 Butler (E. M.) : Julius Caesar, 16. 
 
 Byerly : Differential Calculus, 41 ; Integral Calculus, 41 ; Elementary 
 Treatise on Fourier's Series, 41, 
 
 Caedmon : Exodus and Daniel, 20. 
 
 Calkins : Sharing the Profits, 57. 
 
 Campbell : Elements of Botany, 47. 
 
 Carhart : Plane Surveying, 40 ; A Field Book for Civil Engineers, 40. 
 
 Carpenter : Chaucer's Prologue, etc., 13 ; Introduction to Study of Anglo- 
 Saxon, 21. 
 
 Chaucer : Prologue and Knighte's Tale, 13 ; Parlament of Foules, 13. 
 
 Cholmeley : Macbeth, 16 ; Twelfth Night, 16 ; Coriolanus, 16. 
 
 Clark : Philosophy of Wealth, 57. 
 
 Clark and Giddings : Modem Distributive Process, 57. 
 
 Collar : Graded German Lessons, 27 ; Shorter Eysenbach, 27 ; Gate to 
 
 Caesar, 29 ; Practical Latin Composition, 30. 
 
 Collar and Daniell : Beginner's Latin Book, 29 ; Latine Reddenda, 29 ; 
 The Beginner's Greek Composition, 33 ; First Latin Book, 30. 
 
 College Series of Greek Authors, 34. 
 
 College Series of Latin Authors, 32. 
 
 Comegys : Primer of Ethics, 55. 
 
 Comstock : Method of Least Squares, 42. 
 
 Cook : Sidney's Defense of Poesy, 15 ; Shelley's Defence of Poetry, 15 ; 
 
 The Art of Poetry, 19 ; Siever's Old English Grammar, 21 ; 
 Phonological Investigations, 21 ; A Beginner's Book in Old 
 English, 21 ; Addison's Criticisms on Paradise Lost, 15. 
 
 Corson : A Primer of English Verse, 19. 
 
 Cox : Elementary Chemistry, 43. 
 
 Crowell and Richardson : Roman Literature, 32. 
 
 Currell : Cynewulf 's Phoenix, 20. 
 
 Cynewulf: Elene, 20. 
 
 Davidson : The Education of the Greek People, 60 : Handbook to Dante, 
 61. 
 
 Davis : Elementary Meteorology, 46. 
 
 Dippold : Scientific German Reader, 27. 
 
 Disney : Law Relating to Schoolmasters, 61. 
 
 Dooge : Sophocles' Antigone, 34. 
 
 Doriot : Beginners' Book in German, 27, 
 
 Dyer : Plato's Apology and Crito, 34. 
 
 Eaton : Latin Prose Exercises, 32. 
 
 Elwell : Nine Jatakas, 36. 
 
 Emerton : Middle Ages, 52 ; Mediaeval Europe, 52, 
 
 Emery : Notes on English Literature, 19. 
 
 English Classics for the Young, 13. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Everett : Ethics for Young People, 55. 
 
 Flagg : Euripides' Iphigenia, 34. 
 
 Fowler (H.W.) : Thucydides. Book V., 34. 
 
 Frost : Schemer's Astronomical Spectroscopy, 47. 
 
 Frye : Primary Geography, 53 ; Complete Geography, 54. 
 
 Gage : Physical Science, 44 ; Elements of Physics, 44 ; Laboratory 
 
 Manual of Physics, 44 ; Principles of Physics, 44. 
 
 Garbe : Kapila's Aphorisms of the Samkhya Philosophy, 37. 
 
 Gardiner : A Latin Translation Primer, 28 ; First Latin Course, 28. 
 
 Gardner : Friends of the Olden Time, 51. 
 
 Garnett: English Prose Selections, 15 ; Translation of Elene, 21 ; Trans- 
 lation of Beowulf, 21. 
 
 Gates : Selections from the Essays of Francis Jeffrey, 19. 
 
 Gay ley : The Classic Myths in English Literature, 19. 
 
 Gibson : Merchant of Venice, 16. 
 
 Gleason : Gate to the Anabasis, 35. 
 
 Goodwin and White : Xenophon's Anabasis, Books I.-1V., 35. 
 
 Gross : Bench-Work in Wood, 49. 
 
 Greene : Spherical and Practical Astronomy, 47. 
 
 Greenough : Virgil, 29 ; Horace, 32 ; Livy, 32. 
 
 Greenstreet : FouilleVs National Education, 59. 
 
 Greenstreet : First French Reader, 22. 
 
 Griffin : Hamlet, 16. 
 
 Gudeman : Tacitus, Dialogus de Oratoribus, 31. 
 
 Gummere : Hand-Book of Poetics, 13 ; Old English Ballads, 14. 
 
 Gurney : Reference Handbook of English History, 52. 
 
 Hale : Aims and Methods in Classical Study, 32 ; Art of Reading 
 
 Latin, 32. 
 
 Hall : King Horn, 20. 
 
 Halsey : Etymology of Greek and Latin, 31. 
 
 Hardy : Calculus and Method of Rates, 42 ;. Quaternions, 42. 
 
 Harrison and Haddon : Caesar, Books I. and II., 28. 
 
 Harrison and Sharp : Beowulf, 20. 
 
 Harvard : Studies in Classical Philology, 31 ; Examination Papers, 61 ; 
 Oriental Series, 37. 
 
 Hogue : Irregular Verbs, 33. 
 
 Howarth and Longman : Analytical Drawing Sheets, 62. 
 
 Hudson: School Shakespeare, 14; Essays on Shakespeare, 14 j Life, 
 Art, and Characters of Shakespeare, 14, 
 
 Hunt(L.): What is Poetry ? 15. 
 
 Hunt (T.W.) : Caedmon's Exodus, etc., 20. 
 
 Humphreys : Aristophanes' Clouds, 34. 
 
 Hyde : Directional Calculus, 42. 
 
 Hyslop : Ethics of Hume, 56. 
 
 Indian Government Maps, 37. 
 
 India Office Publications, 37. 
 
 International Education Series, 58. 
 
 Johnson : Midsummer Night's Dream, 16. 
 
 Judson : Caesar's Army, 32. 
 
 Kaegi : Rigveda, 37. 
 
 Kay : History of Yaman, 37. 
 
 Kellogg : Brutus of Cicero, 32. 
 
 Kendrick : Greek at Sight, 34. 
 Kent : Cynewulf s Elene, 20. 
 
 Kern : Jataka Mala, 37. 
 
 Knapp : Spanish Grammar, 27 ; Modern Spanish Readings, 27. 
 
2ND EX. 5 
 
 Lacklan : Elements of Euclid, 39 ; ^Elements of Algebra, 39 ; Elements 
 
 of Trigonometry, 39. 
 
 IJamb : Adventures of Ulysses, 12. 
 
 Lanman : Sanskrit Header, 36. 
 Lantern Slides, 54. 
 Lawrence : A History of English Metre, from the earliest times to the 
 
 present day, 20. 
 
 Lecky : Political Value of History, 52. 
 
 Leignton : Harvard Examination Papers, 61. 
 Leune : Difficult Modern French, 25. 
 Lishman : Concrete Arithmetic, 40 ; Concrete Test Cards, 40. 
 Lockwood : English Grammar, 12. 
 Lodge : Plato's Gorgias, 34. 
 
 Lotze : Philosophical Outlines, 55. 
 
 Lounsbury : Parlament of Foules, 13. 
 Lumsden : Lessons in German, 26. 
 
 Macy : Our Government, 57. 
 
 Manatt : Xenophon's Hellenica. Books I. IV., 34* 
 
 Mann : Bulow's Reminiscences of Froebel, 60. 
 
 Marshall : Lady of the Lake, 18. 
 
 Maxcy : Shakespeare's Tragedy of Hamlet, 14. 
 
 Melle : Contemporary French Writers, 25. 
 
 Merrill : Catullus, 31, 32. 
 
 Milton : Paradise Lost, Books I. and II., and Lycidas, 15. 
 
 Montgomery: English History, 51; French History, 51; American 
 
 History, 52 ; Beginner's American History, 52. 
 Morgan : Animal Life and Intelligence, 48 ; Animal Sketches, 48 ; 
 
 Springs of Conduct, 56 ; Psychology for Teachers, 60. 
 Morphology, Journal of, 47. 
 Morris : Thucydides. Book I., 34. 
 
 Morrison : Historical Geography, 53 ; Shilling Geography, 53. 
 Musgrave : French Dramatic Scenes, 22 ; German Dramatic Scenes, 26. 
 Oman : History of England, 50. 
 
 Owen : Childe Harold, 18. 
 
 Payne : Rousseau's Emile, 60. 
 Pennsylvania, Publications of the University of, 61. 
 Perrin : Odyssey, 34. 
 Perry : Sanskrit Primer, 36. 
 
 Peile: Henry V., 16. 
 
 Phelps : The Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement, 19. 
 Philosophical Review, 56. 
 Post : Latin at Sight, 30. 
 
 Preyer : Infant Mind, 59. 
 Ransome : Battles of Frederick the Great, 51. 
 Reynolds : Richard II., 16. 
 Richardson (R.) : -ffischines in Ctesiphontem, 34. 
 Rolfe : Student's Shakespeare, 14. 
 
 Sainte Beuve : Select Essays, 18. 
 
 Sargeaunt ( J.) : Paradise Lost, Books I. and II., 18 ; Books III. and IV., 18, 
 Scartazzini : Handbook to Dante, 61. 
 Schelling : Ben Jonson's Timber, 15 ; Poetic and Verse Criticism of the 
 
 Reign of Elizabeth, 19 ; A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics, 14. 
 Schelling : The Life and Writings of George Gascoigne, 19. 
 Schmidt : Rhythmic and Metric, 35. 
 Seelye : Duty, 56. 
 Seymour : Homeric Vocabulary, 33 ; Pindar, 33 ; Iliad, 84 ; Language and 
 
 Verse of Homer, 34. 
 
6 INDEX. 
 
 Shaler : Story of our Continent, 53. 
 
 Sharpless : English Education, 59. 
 
 Shelley : Defence of Poetry, 15. 
 
 Shoup : Mechanism and Personality, 55. 
 
 Shumway : Latin Synonymes, 31. 
 
 Sidney : Defense of Poesy, 15. 
 
 Sieyers : Old English Grammar, 21. 
 
 Smith (A.J.) : French Kevolution Reading, 23 ; Modern Frenlft Readings, 25. 
 ' Smith (C. P.) : Thucydides. Book III., 34 ; Book VII., 34. 
 
 Smith (C. L.) : The Odes and Epodes of Horace, 32. 
 
 Sparkes and Burbidge : Wild Flowers in Art and Nature, 62. 
 
 Sprague : Milton's Paradise Lost, 15. 
 
 Stein (H.) : Dialect of Herodotus, 35. 
 
 Stein (J. P.) : German Exercises, 27. 
 
 Sterrett : Ethics of Hegel, 55. 
 
 Stevens : Yale Examination Papers, 61. 
 
 Stickney t Cicero : De Natura Deorum, 31. 
 
 Sumichrast : Dumas' Trois Mousquetaires, 25. 
 
 Tarver (H.) : Dumas' Monte Cristo, 24 ; Dumas' Vingt Ans Apres, 24, 
 
 Tatham : Caesar, Books III.-V., 28. 
 
 Taylor : Differential and Integral Calculus, 42. 
 
 Thayer : Best Elizabethan Plays, 15. 
 
 Thom : Shakespeare and Chaucer Examinations, 14, 
 
 Tovey : King Lear, 16. 
 
 Towle : Plato's Protagoras, 34. 
 
 1 Turk : Alfred the Great's Legal Code, 21. 
 
 Tyler : Greek Lyric Poets, 33. 
 
 TJrwick : The Tempest, 16. 
 
 Van Daell (A. N.) : An Introduction to the French Language, 23. 
 
 Wales, The Story of, 11. 
 
 "Ward : Plant Organization, 47. 
 
 Ward (Ii. P.) : Psychic Factors of Civilization, 56. 
 
 Warner : Marmion, 18. 
 
 Wentworth : Plane and Solid Geometry, 40 ; Analytic Geometry, 40. 
 
 Wentworth and McLellan : Algebraic Analysis, 40. 
 
 White : Passages for Unseen Translation, 35 ; Stein's Dialect of 
 
 Herodotus, 35 ; Schmidt's Rhythmic and Metric, 35 ; Be- 
 ginner's Book in Greek, 33. 
 
 White and Morgan : Anabasis Dictionary, 35. 
 
 White and Waite : Straight Road to Caesar, 28. 
 
 W niton : Orations of Lysias, 35 ; Six Weeks' Preparation for Caesar, 31. 
 
 Wild Flower Pictures, 62. 
 
 Wild Flowers in Art and Nature, 62. 
 
 Williams and Lascelles : Chemical Science, 44. 
 
 Winbolt : As You Like It, 16. 
 
 Wood's Holl : Biological Lectures, 48. 
 
 Wormell : Mercantile Arithmetic, 38 ; Sound, 45 ; Light, 45 ; Heat, 45 ; 
 Mechanics, 45. 
 
 Yale Examination Papers, 61. 
 
 Yates : English Readers, 7 ; Geography Readers, 8 ; History Readers, 8 ; 
 
 Domestic Readers, 8 ; Recitations and Dialogues, 9 ; Object 
 Lesson Readers, 9 ; Bible Readers, 9 ; Unseen Readers, 9 ; 
 Composition Books and Cards, 10. 
 
 Young : General Astronomy, 46 ; Elements of Astronomy, 46 ; Lessons 
 in Astronomy, 46. 
 
 Yoxall : Literary Reading Books for Upper Standards, 11 ; Word 
 Builder and Speller, 12. 
 
37, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, LONDON, 
 
 July, 1895. 
 
 Telegraphic Address : 
 SCHOLARLY, LONDON. 
 
 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 
 
 ARNOLD'S ENGLISH READERS. 
 
 A carefully graduated course of instruction for children learning to 
 read the English language. By M. T. YATES, LL.D., Editor of 
 " Arnold's Geography Headers ; " " Arnold's History Readers," etc. 
 
 Infant School Course. 
 
 Arnold's Beading Sheets, size 36 x 27 inches, mounted on rollers. Very 
 large type; bold illustrations; using the Word-Building method. 
 Price Is. 6d. 
 
 Primer I. 2d. Short vowel sounds. 
 
 Primer II. d. Long vowel sounds. 
 
 Infant Reader. 6d. Little Stories in prose and rhyme. 
 
 Little Story Reader. 3d. 
 
 Infant Story Readers I. and II. Qd. each. 
 
 English Reading Course. 
 
 Book I. Price Sd. Stories Fables Dialogues Poetry. 
 Book II. Wd. Stories and Fables Kindness to Animals Poetry. 
 Book III. Is. Fairy Tales Golden Deeds Words of the Wise, etc. 
 Book IV. Is. Sd. Patriotic and Moral Lessons Our busy Towns 
 
 Flowers. 
 Book V. Is. 6d. Golden Deeds Our Bodies Seaports Famous 
 
 Books. 
 Book VI. Is. Gd. V.O. Stories Famous Buildings Health Tern- 
 
 peranoe and Thrift Lessons, 
 Book VII. Is. Qd. Great Authors and their Works Famous 
 
 Hides, etc. 
 
 All the books are well printed, fully illustrated and very strongly 
 bound. They also contain all necessary notes, summaries, defini- 
 tions, and grammatical helps. 
 
8 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 Arnold's Geography Readers. 
 
 A series of books combining interesting reading with the acquisition 
 of geographical knowledge. Edited by M. T. YATES, LL.D. 
 
 Book I. Price Sd. Plan of School meaning and use of a Map. 
 
 Book n. lOd. Geographical terms illustrated and explained. 
 
 Book III. Is. England and Wales. 
 
 Book IV. Is. 3d. The British Isles, 
 
 Book V. Is. 6d. Europe. 
 
 Book VI. Is. 6d. The British Empire. 
 
 Book VII. Is. Gd. The United States. 
 
 Each book is fully illustrated and provided with maps, and Books 
 III. VII. contain well- worked out summaries at the end, enabling 
 them to be used as text-books. 
 
 Arnold's History Readers. 
 
 A complete course of simple lessons in English History, conveyed in 
 the form of readings. Edited by M. T. YATES, LL.D. 
 
 Book I. Price Sd. Simple Stories. 
 
 Book II. lOcL Simple Stories. 
 
 Book III. Is. The Ancient Britons and the Saxons. 
 
 Book IV. Is. 3d. Normans and Plantagenets. 
 
 Book V. Is. 6d. The Tudor Period. 
 
 Book VI. Is. Qd. The Stuart Period. 
 
 Book VII. Is. 6d. The Hanoverian Period. 
 
 Each book is well illustrated and carefully adapted to the ages of 
 the children for whom it is intended. 
 
 Arnold's Domestic Readers. 
 
 A series of graduated reading lessons on Food, Clothing, and Wash- 
 ing, with chapters on the Dwelling and Health. Edited by M. T. 
 YATES, LL.D. 
 
 Book L Price 8d. Materials used for Food. 
 
 Book II. IQd. 
 
 Book III. Is. Materials used in Clothing and Washing. 
 
 Book IV. Is. 3d. Food, Clothing, Washing. 
 
 Book V. Is. 6d. Food and Beverages. Cleanliness. 
 
 Book VI. Is, Gd. Cooking, the Dwelling, Health. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 
 
 Arnold's Object Lesson Readers. 
 
 An entirely new series designed to meet the new requirements of 
 the Education Department by providing a ground-work prepara- 
 tory to the study of science. [In preparation. 
 
 Arnold's Bible Readers. 
 
 Edited by M. T. YATES, LL.D. The Lessons or Headings are in the 
 form of Bible Stories told in the simplest language. 
 
 Book L Twenty simple Bible Stories from the Old and New Testa- 
 ments. 
 
 Book II. Stories from the Old Testament. 
 
 Book III. Stories from the New Testament. 
 
 The price of each volume illustrated is IQd. 
 
 Leeds Mercury. "Easy, interesting,' and instructive reading for 
 children. They are admirably adapted for Day or Sunday School class 
 work, or for mothers to read to their children." 
 
 Arnold's Unseen Readers. 
 
 Edited by M. T. YATES, LL.D. Teachers' Books are provided 
 containing a number of carefully graded passages suitable for 
 reading, while Scholars' Cards contain the same passages, each 
 card corresponding to a page in the teacher's book. The series 
 contains four books, price Is. each ; and each book is reproduced 
 in four packets of cards, price Is. per packet. 
 
 Recitations and Dialogues. 
 
 By M. T. YATES, LL.D., Editor of "Arnold's English Readers.* 1 
 Book I. for Junior Classes. Cloth. Is. 
 Book II. for Senior Classes. Cloth. Is. 
 
 A2 
 
10 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 ARNOLD'S COMPOSITION BOOKS AND CARDS 
 FOR TEACHING COMPOSITION. 
 
 Stories and Pictures for Composition. Cloth, Is. 
 
 Also in 6 packets of cards, each containing 20 cards, Is. per packet. 
 
 1. Fables. 
 
 2. Animal Stories. 
 
 3. Brave Deeds. 
 
 4. History Tales. 
 
 5. General Stories. 
 
 6. Scenes in other Lands, 
 
 Outlines and Pictures for Composition. Cloth, Is. 
 
 Also in 6 packets of cards, each containing 20 cards, Is. per packet. 
 
 1. Animals. 
 
 2. Common Objects. 
 
 3. Great Authors. 
 
 4. Famous Men. 
 
 5. Places at Home. 
 
 6. Places Abroad. 
 
 Each card contains a suitable picture with suggestions for an essay 
 on the subject illustrated. The teacher should distribute a packet of 
 20 cards, which are all different, among his pupils, give them a few 
 minutes to read what it contains, and then having collected all the 
 cards, set them to reproduce in their own words what they have read. 
 
 It is claimed for this method that it arouses the imagination of 
 pupils, provides matter, and suggests language, and thus gradually 
 makes the writing of an essay a matter of little difficulty, while the use 
 of different cards to the same class renders copying impossible. 
 
 The " Stories and Pictures " are elementary, the " Outlines and 
 Pictures " more advanced. 
 
 Arnold's Analytical Drawing Sheets. See page 63. 
 
 Wild Flower Pictures for Wall Decoration. See 
 page 62. 
 
 Birds and their Eggs, Pictures for Wall Decoration. 
 See page 62. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 
 
 LITERARY READING ! BOOKS FOR UPPER 
 STANDARDS. 
 
 DAVID COPPERFIELD. 
 
 DOMBEY AND SON. 
 
 THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 
 
 Abridged and Edited for Use in Schools by J. H. YOXALL. 
 
 Each volume contains 4 full-page Illustrations from the famous 
 original Dickens' plates. 
 
 BOLD CLEAR TYPEGOOD PAPER STRONG BINDING. 
 
 Price of each volume, Is. 6d. ; The Prize Edition, gilt edges, etc., 2a. 
 
 The " Children's Dickens," as this series has been called, is intended 
 for use as Reading-books in School or at Home, for Evening 
 Classes, Reading Circles, etc. The great length of the works of 
 Dickens, and the obvious unsuitableness of many passages for 
 perusal by children, led to the idea of this abridged edition, which 
 has been very favourably received on all sides. Large portions 
 of the originals have been omitted, but the thread of the story is 
 preserved by the insertion of occasional summaries, which are 
 printed in italic type to prevent any possible confusion. 
 
 Mrs, Hugh Bell writes : " The abridgments of Diekens seem to me 
 excellent. It is the kind of thing that I have always longed for, and that 
 I, in common with many other parents, probably have practically done by 
 skipping while reading aloud. But it is delightful having it in this con- 
 venient form, in a book which one can put into the child's own hand." 
 
 Rev. E. F. MacCarthy, King Edward's School, Birmingham. " I am 
 charmed with your series of reduced Dickens." 
 
 THE STORY OF WALES, 
 
 A special reading-book for Welsh schools, with numerous illus- 
 trations. Cloth, Is. 6d. 
 
12 
 
 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD? S 
 
 LAMB'S ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES. 
 With an Introduction by ANDREW LANG. 
 
 A Map of the wanderings of Ulysses is given as a frontispiece, and 
 a few brief explanatory Notes and an Index of Proper Names 
 are appended. 
 
 Square Svo, 128 pages; Cloth, Is. Qd. Prize Edition, gilt edges, 2. 
 Adopted as a Prize by the London School Board. 
 
 The Schoolmaster. "Every boy 
 and girl in the world ought to 
 know the famous story of Ulysses 
 and his adventures, and this book 
 relates it in Charles Lamb's admir- 
 able manner." 
 
 The Manchester Guardian, 
 " Boys in reading the story of the 
 hero's wanderings find in it the 
 same sort of charm that attracts 
 them in Eobinson Crusoe." 
 
 The School Guardian. "There 
 are few men more competent than 
 Mr. Andrew Lang to edit, for the 
 reading of young people, Lamb's 
 charmingly simple narrative of the 
 adventures of Ulysses." 
 
 The Western Morning News, 
 " A better book as a model of 
 good prose, to say nothing of its 
 imaginative charm, it would be 
 difficult to find for the young." 
 
 Friends of the Olden Time. See page 51. 
 
 THE WORD BUILDER AKD SPELLER. 
 
 A Hand-book of Spelling and Spellings. Crown Svo. 64 pages. Price 3d. 
 By J. H. YOXALL AND B. GREGORY. 
 
 From the Eeport of the Committee of Council on Education. " Spelling, 
 it is hoped, will be taught by Word-Building and Analogy of Sound." 
 
 The book is carefully graduated in five parts, suitable for pupils in 
 various stages of progress, the fifth part containing a list of Two 
 THOUSAND DIFFICULT WOEDS, and a number of Geographical names. 
 
 Teachers' Aid. " It is well arranged, and should form a most useful aid 
 to the teaching of Spelling." 
 
 An Introduction to English Grammar and Analysis. 
 
 By FKAXCIS BOXD, M.A., formerly Head-Master of the Hull and 
 East Riding College. Crown Svo. Cloth, la. 6d. 
 
 Loekwood's English Grammar. 
 
 For the higher grades in Grammar Schools, adapted from Professor 
 Whitney's well-known " Essentials of English Grammar," and newly 
 arranged for younger pupils by Mrs. Sarah E. H. LOCKWOOP. 
 253 pages. Crown Svo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 13 
 
 ENGLISH CLASSICS FOR THE YOUNG. 
 
 This popular series, published in America by Messrs. Ginn & Co. 
 for supplementary reading in schools, has been widely appreciated in this 
 country. It contains some of the greatest masterpieces of the language, 
 and nothing that has not proved its entire fitness for the object in view. 
 
 Kobinson Crusoe. Edited by W. H. LAMBERT. 263 pages. Boards, 2a. 
 
 Arabian Nights (Selections). 376 pages, illustrated. Boards, 2s. Gd. ; 
 Cloth, 3s. 
 
 Old Mortality. 510 pages. Boards, 3*. Gd. ; Cloth, 4a. 
 
 Boards, 2. ; Cloth, 2s. Gd. 
 Gulliver's Travels. 
 Vicar of Wakefield. 
 Easselas, Prince of Abyssinia. 
 Irving's Sketch Book (Selections). 
 Pilgrim's Progress (Selections). 
 
 Boards, 2s. Gd. ; Cloth, 3. 
 Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare 
 Scott's Tales of a Grandfather. 
 Plutarch's Lives (Selections). 
 Franklin's Autobiography. 
 Irving's Alhambra. 
 
 Miss Charlotte M. Yonge, author of Tlie Heir of Bedcly/e, etc., has 
 written introductions to the following volumes in this series : 
 
 Quentin Durward. 312 pages. Boards, 2s. Gd. ; Cloth, 3s. 
 The Talisman. 466 pages. Boards, 3s. ; Cloth, 3s. Gd. 
 Bob Roy. 515 pages. Boards, 3s. Gd. ; Cloth, 4s. 
 Guy Mannering. 525 pages. Boards, 3s. Gd. ; Cloth, 4$. 
 Ivanhoe. 554 pages. Boards, 3s. Gd. ; Cloth, 4s. 
 
 
 
 A Hand-Book of Poetics. 
 
 For Students of English Verse. By FRANCIS B. GUMMERE, Ph.D. 
 vi + 250 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. Gd. 
 
 Chaucer : The Prologue and Knighte's Tale (English 
 of the Fourteenth Century). 
 
 Edited, with Notes, Grammatical and Philological, and a Glossary, by 
 Professor STEPHEN H. CARPENTER, xiv + 313 pages. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth. 5s. 
 
 Chaucer : -The Parlament of Foules. 
 
 Edited, with Introduction, Notes, and Glossary, by Professor T, R. 
 LOUNSBURY. Ill pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 
 
14 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 Hudson's School Shakespeare. 
 
 An Edition of Twenty-three Plays. For Schools and Home Use, 
 with Introductions and Notes, Explanatory and Critical. By H. N. 
 HUDSON, LL.D., Editor of The, Harvard Shakespeare. One play in 
 each volume. Square 16mo. Cloth. 2s. Paper. Is. 6d. 
 
 Rolfe's Student's Shakespeare. 
 
 Each Play separately, with Illustrations and Critical and Explanatory 
 Notes by Professor W. J. ROLFE. Paper Covers. Price 2s. Qd. 
 
 Shakespeare's Tragedy of Hamlet. 
 
 Edited for use in Schools, with Notes and Questions. By C. L. 
 MAXCY. Cloth. Crown 8vo. 2s. 
 
 Essays on the Study of Shakespeare. 
 
 By HENRY N. HUDSON, LL.D. 118 pages. Square 16mo. Paper. 
 Is. 6d. 
 
 Notes on Shakspere's Versification. 
 
 By GEORGE H. BROWNE, A.M. 34 pages. Interleaved. Crown 8vo. 
 Paper. Is. 6d. 
 
 Shakespeare and Chaucer Examinations. 
 
 Edited by WILLIAM TAYLOR THOM, M.A. 346 pages. Square 
 16mo. Cloth. 5s. 6d. 
 
 The volume contains examinations on Hamlet, Macbeth, King Lear, 
 Othello, Merchant of Venice, and a Chaucer Examination, based on the 
 Prologue, Knighte's Tale, and Nonne Priest's Tale. 
 
 The Life, Art, and Characters of Shakespeare. 
 
 By HENRY N. HUDSON, LL.D., Editor of The Harvard Shakespeare, 
 etc. In 2 vols. 969 pages. Large Crown 8vo. Cloth. 21*. 
 
 Old English Ballads. 
 
 Selected and Edited, with Notes and Introduction, by Professor 
 F. B. GUMMERE. Crown 8vo. Cloth, xcviii + 380 pages. 
 5s. Qd. 
 
 A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics. 
 
 Selected and Edited, with Introduction, Notes, and Indices, by 
 Professor F. E. SCHELUNG. Crown 8vo. Cloth, kix + 327 
 pages. 5s. 6d. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 15 
 
 Milton's Paradise Lost (Books I. and II.) ; and 
 Milton's Lycidas. 
 
 Edited, with Notes and Introduction, by H. B. SPEAGUE, Ph.D., 
 198 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Addison's Criticisms on Paradise Lost. 
 
 Edited, with Notes and Introduction, by ALBERT S. COOK, Professor 
 of the English Language and Literature in Yale University. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. Qd. 
 
 The Best Elizabethan Plays. 
 
 Edited, with an Introduction, by WILLIAM R. THAYER. 612 pages. 
 Large Crown 8vo. Cloth. Is. 6d. 
 
 The Defense of Poesy, otherwise known as An 
 Apology for Poetry. 
 
 By Sir PHILIP SIDNEY. Edited by A. S. COOK, Professor of English 
 Literature in Yale University. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. Qd. 
 
 Leigh Hunt's " What is Poetry ? " 
 
 " An Answer to the Question, ' What is Poetry ? ' including Remarks 
 on Versification." By LEIGH HUNT. Edited, with Notes, by 
 Professor A. S. COOK. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 2s. Qd. 
 This is the first essay in Leigh Hunt's "Imagination and Fancy," 
 which is among the very best of his prose works. 
 
 A Defence of Poetry. 
 
 By PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. Edited, with Notes and Introduction, 
 by Professor A. S. COOK. Crown 8Vo. Cloth. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Selections in English Prose from Elizabeth to 
 Victoria. 
 
 Chosen and arranged by JAMES M. GARKETT, M.A., LL.D. 700 
 pages. Large Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. Qd. 
 
 Ben Jonson's Timber. 
 
 Edited by Professor F. E. SCHELLING. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. 
 Saturday Review. " For strength, sense, and learning, there are not 
 many books in English literature that can beat this." 
 
 The Inflections and Syntax of the Morte d' Arthur 
 of Sir Thomas Mallory. 
 
 A Study in Fifteenth-Century English, by C. S. BALDWIN. Square 
 8vo. 6s, 6d. 
 
i6 
 
 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 Each Play One Shilling nett. 
 ARNOLD'S SCHOOL SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 General Editor. J. CHURTON COLLINS, M.A. 
 
 Assisted by special editors 
 in the preparation of the different plays as follows : 
 
 Macbeth, by R. F. CHOLMELET, 
 M.A., Assistant - Master at St. 
 Paul's School. 
 
 As You Like It, by S. E. WINBOLT, 
 B.A., Assistant - Master at 
 Christ's Hospital. 
 
 Twelfth Night, by R.F. CHOLMELEY, 
 M.A., Assistant-Master at St. 
 Paul's School. 
 
 Eichard II,, by A. REYNOLDS, M.A., 
 Assistant-Master at Merchant 
 Taylor's School. 
 
 King" Lear, by the Rev. D. C. 
 TOVEY, M.A., late Assistant- 
 Master at Eton College. 
 
 [In preparation. 
 
 Henry V,, by J. H. F. PEILE, M.A., 
 Assistant-Master at Sherborne 
 School. [In preparation. 
 
 Julius Caesar, by E. M. BUTLEB, 
 B.A., Assistant-Master at Harrow 
 School. [In preparation. 
 
 Midsummer Night's Dream, by R. 
 BRIMLEY JOHNSON, Editor of 
 Jane Austen's novels, etc. 
 
 The Merchant of Venice, by 0. H. 
 GIBSON, M.A., Assistant-Master 
 at Merchant Taylor's School. 
 
 Hamlet, by \V. HALL GRIFFIN, 
 Professor of English Literature 
 at Queen's College, London. 
 
 Coriolanus, by R. F. CHOLMELEY, 
 M.A., Assistant-Master at St. 
 Paul's School. 
 
 Eichard III., by F. P. BARNARD, 
 M. A., late Head-Master of Read- 
 ing School. 
 
 The Tempest, by W. E. URWICK, 
 M.A., Assistant-Master at Man- 
 chester Grammar School. 
 
 [In preparation. 
 
 Each volume contains, in addition to the Notes on the Text 
 
 A short Biography of Shakespeare. 
 
 An Introduction dealing with the following points (hi addition to any 
 specially arising out of the particular play) 
 
 (a) The date of the play, and its relation to other plays or groups of 
 plays. (6) The sources of the plot, and the way in which Shakespeare 
 has dealt with his raw material, with the necessary extracts and illustra- 
 tions, (c) An analysis of the plot, and its structure, (d) A brief 
 analytical survey of the principal characters, with short memoirs if they 
 are historical, (e) The philosophy of the play, its motive, and more 
 obvious political and moral lessons. (/) Its style, diction, and metre. 
 (g) References to any particularly interesting criticisms of it, by critics 
 of undoubted authority. 
 
 In the Notes are explained all such historical, topographical, and 
 literary allusions as need explanation to the average schoolboy. Obscure 
 passages are elucidated and paraphrased, idioms and expressions 
 peculiar to Elizabethan or Shakespearian English are explained and 
 illustrated, from Shakespeare himself BO far as possible. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 17 
 
 The Philological element has been minimized, but Etymologies are 
 given whenever a word requires explanation through being obsolete or 
 being employed in an unusual sense, or where its derivation seems 
 . necessary or has any special interest. 
 
 In order to assist those who may be preparing for examination, 
 a set of Questions on the play is appended. 
 
 The Text is that of the Globe Edition, through the kind permission 
 of Messrs. Macmillan and Co. 
 
 SOME OPINIONS OF THE PHESS. 
 
 Midsummer Night's Dream. 
 
 Guardian. ' The introduction and notes are clear, thoroughly to the 
 point, and not above the capacity of boys beginning to read Shakespeare. 
 The number before us contains a brief and well-paragraphed life of the 
 poet a feature we should be glad to see in all school editions and is a 
 model of good printing and excellent arrangement." 
 
 Saturday Review, "Mr. Johnson appears to have done his work 
 thoroughly and well." 
 
 Educational Times, " Mr. Johnson's notes are brief and to the point, 
 and make the book very suitable for school use; the introductory remarks 
 on sources, allusions, chronology, etc., contain, in small space, all that 
 the examination candidate requires on these subjects." 
 
 Manchester Guardian. " The literary editing is of a plain and sound 
 kind." 
 
 School Guardian. "Has been edited in an interesting manner, and is 
 remarkable for the clearness with which the various points touched upon 
 in the introduction have been brought out." 
 
 Educational Review. " Mr. Johnson has done his work well, never 
 sparing trouble in explaining allusions in the play, and yet never giving 
 superfluous notes." 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 Independent. " Another of this excellent series. . . . His study of the 
 moral and philosophical aspects of Macbeth is really admirable. A 
 handier edition of Shakespeare we have not seen. Its merits should 
 ensure its popularity." 
 
 Manchester Guardian, "Mr. Cholmeley's historical and critical intro- 
 duction is competently done, and his notes, as far as we have sampled 
 them by reference to test passages, are of the right kind, and the right 
 degree of fulness." 
 
 Schoolmaster. " This series of plays is evidently in good hands." 
 
 Twelfth Night. 
 
 Educational News. " The scene-by-scene analysis should be very use- 
 ful to students; the remarks on the dramatis personal are discriminating. 
 The notes ... are excellently concise, and show much knowledge of the 
 language and literature of Shakespeare's time." 
 
 A 3 
 
18 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 ARNOLD'S BRITISH CLASSICS FOR SCHOOLS. 
 
 General Editor J. CHURTON COLLINS. M.A. 
 This series has been undertaken with the same objects as the series 
 of plays in Arnold's School Shakespeare, and the Introductions and 
 Notes have been regulated by the same general principles. It is de- 
 signed for the use of those who are encouraged to study the great 
 poets liberally, rather, that is to say, from a literary and historical 
 point of view, than from the grammatical and philological side. At 
 the same time it will, we hope, be found to contain all the information 
 required from junior students in an ordinary examination in English 
 literature. 
 
 Paradise Lost, Books I. & II., by 
 J. SARGEAUNT, M.A., Assistant- 
 Master at Westminster School. 
 Cloth. Is. nett. 
 
 Paradise Lost, Books III. & IV., by 
 J. SARGEAUNT, M.A., Assistant- 
 Master at Westminster School. 
 Cloth. Is. nett. 
 
 Childe Harold, by the Rev. E. C. 
 EVERAKD OWEN, M.A., Assistant- 
 
 Master at Harrow School. Cloth. 
 Is. Gd. nett. 
 
 Marmion, by G. TOWNSEND WARNER, 
 M.A., Fellow of Jesus College, 
 Cambridge, and Assistant- 
 Master at Harrow School. 
 Cloth. Is. Qd. nett. 
 
 The Lady of the Lake, by J. MAR- 
 SHALL, M.A., Rector of the Royal 
 High School, Edinburgh. Cloth. 
 Is. Qd. nett. 
 
 Other volumes are in preparation. 
 
 SELECT ESSAYS OF SAINTE-BEUVE, 
 
 Chiefly bearing on English Literature. 
 Translated by A. J. BUTLER, late Fellow of Trinity College, 
 
 Cambridge. Cloth. Crown 8vo. 5s. nett. 
 
 The book includes the Essays on Cowper, Gibbon, Grote's " History 
 of Greece," Bonstetten and Gray, Taine's " History of English Lite- 
 rature," Lord Chesterfield's " Letters to his Son," and " What is a 
 Classic?" 
 
 rt Sainte-Beuve's writings are far less known 
 among us than they deserve." Matthew Arnold. 
 
 Daily News. " The translations are excellent, and convey a very fair 
 idea of the simple, forcible style of the great French essayist." 
 
 Saturday Review. " Mr. Butler has rendered very successfully some 
 of the most delightful and instructive papers in the 'Causeries' and 
 the * Nouveaux Lundis.' " 
 
 Daily Telegraph. " English readers should not fail to make themselves 
 acquainted with the work of one of the clearest, most broadly tolerant, 
 and sanest critics of their literature that France has produced." 
 
 Journal of Education. " The University Extension student will 
 assuredly profit by the judgments of the most catholic and receptive of 
 French critics on our English classics." 
 
 Freeman's Journal. " Mr. Butler has done his work well, and has 
 placed the critical student under a real obligation to him." 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 19 
 
 Selections from the Essays of Francis Jeffrey. 
 
 Edited, with Introduction and Notes, by LEWIS E. G-ATES, Instructor 
 in English in Harvard University. 259 pages. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth. 4s. 
 
 Poetic and Verse Criticism of the Reign of Elizabeth. 
 
 By PROFESSOR F. E. SCHELLING (Publications of the University 
 of Pennsylvania). 8vo. Paper. 97 pages. 4s. 6d. 
 
 The Life and Writings of George Gascoigne, with 
 three Poems not heretofore reprinted. 
 
 By PROFESSOR F. E. SCHELLING (Publications of the University of 
 Pennsylvania). 8vo. Paper. 131 pages. 4s. 6d. 
 
 The Art of Poetry. 
 
 The Poetical Treatises of Horace, Vida, and Boileau, with the 
 translations by Howes, Pitt, and Soame. Edited by PROFESSOR 
 A. S. COOK. Iviii + 303 pages. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 The Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement. 
 
 A Study in Eighteenth Century Literature between 1725 and 1765. 
 By WILLIAM LYON PHELPS, Ph.D., Instructor in English Litera- 
 ture, Yale University. 190 pages. Crown 8vo. 4s. Qd. 
 
 The Classic Myths in English Literature. 
 
 Based chiefly on Bulfinch's "Age of Fable." With numerous 
 illustrations. Edited by PROFESSOR CHARLES MILLS G-AYLEY, 
 Professor of English Literature in the University of California. 
 Nearly 600 pages. Crown 8vo. 6s. 6d. 
 
 A Primer of English Verse. 
 
 By HIRAM C ORSON, Professor of English Literature in Cornell 
 University. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. Qd. 
 
 Notes on English Literature. 
 
 By PROFESSOR FRED. PARKER EMERY. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. 6d. 
 
20 MR. EDWARt) ARNOLD* S 
 
 EARLY ENGLISH AND ANGLO-SAXON. 
 King Horn. 
 
 Edited, with Introduction, Text, Notes, and Glossary, by JOSEPH 
 HALL, M.A., Head-Master of the Hulme Grammar School, 
 Manchester. [In preparation. 
 
 A History of English Metre, from the earliest times 
 
 to the present day. 
 By DE. JOHN LAWRENCE. [In preparation. 
 
 No comprehensive view of this subject in English is at present in 
 existence. 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF AXGLO-SAXON POETRY. 
 Beowulf, and the Fight at Finnsburh. 
 
 Edited, with Text and Glossary, by JAMES A. HARRISON and 
 ROBERT SHARP. Third Edition, Revised, x + 325 pages. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6*. 
 
 This edition has been recommended by Professors Dowden and Nichol 
 to their classes in the Universities of Dublin and Glasgow. 
 
 Csedmon's Exodus and Daniel. 
 
 Edited, with Introduction, Text, and Glossary, by THEODORE W. 
 HUNT, Professor of Rhetoric and English Language in Princeton 
 College. Revised Edition. 121 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
 85. 6d. 
 
 This edition includes 589 lines of the Exodus and 765 of the Daniel. 
 
 The Athenaeum. " The volume will be helpful, and we welcome it and 
 the promised series heartily.'* 
 
 Cynewulf s Elene. 
 
 Edited with Introduction, Text, Notes, and Glossary, by CHARLES 
 W. KENT, Professor of English in the University of Tennessee. 
 150 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Latin source from which Cynewulf derived his materials is printed 
 at the foot of the pages. 
 
 Cynewulf 's Phoenix. 
 
 Edited, with Introduction, Text, and Critical Notes, by PROFESSOR 
 W. S. CURRELL, Ph.D., of Davidson College, N.C. 
 
 [In preparation. 
 
 Andreas : A Legend of St. Andrew. 
 
 Edited, with Introduction, Text, and Critical Notes, by W. M. 
 BASKERVILLE, Ph.D. (Lips.), Professor of English Language and 
 Literature in the Vanderbilt University, viii + 78 pages. Is. 6d. 
 
 A Glossary is in preparation. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 21 
 
 Elene ; and other Anglo-Saxon Poems. 
 
 Translated into English by JAMES M. GARNETT, M.A., LL.D., Pro- 
 fessor of the English Language and Literature in the University 
 of Virginia, xvi + 70 pages. 4to. Cloth. 6s. 
 
 This volume contains translations of Elene, Judith, Athelstan 9 or the 
 Fight at Brunariburh, and Byrhtnoth, or the Fight at Maldon. 
 
 An Introduction to the Study of Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 Comprising an Elementary Grammar, Selections for Beading, with 
 Explanatory Notes and a Vocabulary, by STEPHEN H. CARPENTER, 
 Professor of Logic and English Literature in the University of 
 Wisconsin. 212 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. Qd. 
 
 The selections are graduated in difficulty, and taken from the A.S. 
 Chronicle, JElfric's Homilies, Csedmon's Genesis and Exodus, Alfred's 
 Metres, The Phosnix, Alfred's Translation of Bede, etc. 
 
 An Old English Grammar. 
 
 By EDUARD SIEVERS, Ph.D., Professor of Germanic Philology in 
 the University of Tubingen ; translated and edited by ALBERT S. 
 COOK, Ph.D. (Jena), Professor of the English Language and 
 Literature in Yale University. Second edition revised and 
 enlarged, xx + 273 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6*. 
 
 The Phonological Investigation of Old English. 
 
 Illustrated by a series of fifty problems. By ALBERT S. COOK, Ph.D. 
 (Jena), Professor of English Literature in Yale University. 
 26 pages. Crown 8vo. Paper. Is. Qd. 
 
 Beowulf and the Fight at Pinnsburh. 
 
 Translated by Professor JAMES M. GARNETT, M.A., LL.D. With 
 Facsimile of the unique MS. in the British Museum, Cotton 
 Vitellius A. xv. Third edition revised. Cloth. 5s. 
 
 Professor John Earle. " A very complete piece of work, bringing the 
 whole subject up to the very front line of its progress." 
 
 A Beginner's Book in Old English. 
 
 By Professor ALBERT S. COOK, editor of Sievers' Old English 
 Grammar, etc. 6s. 6d. 
 
 Alfred the Great's Legal Code. 
 
 Edited, with Introduction, by MILTON H. TURK, Ph.D., Professor of 
 English, Hobart College, U.S.A. 8vo. viii 4- 147 pages. 4*. 6d 
 
22 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 FRENCH. 
 
 French Without Tears. 
 
 The first volume of a graduated series of French Reading Books. 
 By MRS. HUGH BELL, Author of Le Petit Theatre Fran^ais. 
 Carefully arranged to suit the requirements of quite young children 
 beginning French. The 2nd and 3rd volumes of the series will 
 follow shortly. 
 
 French Dramatic Scenes. 
 
 By C. ABEL MUSGBAVE. See German Dramatic Scenes, p. 26. 
 
 [In preparation. 
 
 A First French Course. 
 
 By JAMES BOIELLE, B.A. (Univ. Gall.), Officier d'Acade*mie, 
 Assistant Examiner in the University of London, Senior French 
 Master at Dulwich College, etc. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Is. 6d. 
 
 The Schoolmaster. "The carefully graduated and advantageously 
 arranged lessons display everywhere the hand and mind of an experienced 
 teacher. Each contains a sufficient and not more than sufficient amount 
 of matter to be mastered by the pupils at one effort, and it is well worked 
 into their brains and memories by carefully compiled English and 
 French exercises." 
 
 E. Gschwind, Esq., Liverpool College. I have looked the book 
 through, and find it will just do for us." 
 
 A First French Reader. 
 
 With Exercises for Ke-translation. Edited by W. J. GKEENSTEEET, 
 M.A., Head Master of the Marling School, Stroud. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth. Is. 
 
 This little volume consists of a number of carefully graduated pieces 
 adapted for pupils just able to read easy connected passages in French. 
 The length of the pieces is adjusted to the time usually occupied by a 
 Iceson in class, and the book contains amply sufficient for a term's 
 working. The exercises for re-translation are developed in harmony with 
 the French pieces, and are designed to test the pupil's memory of what 
 he has read, while he is making progress with composiuon. Ample 
 Vocabularies are included. 
 
 Modern Language Monthly. "The plan is excellent, and the pupil 
 who has carefully worked through the book will have laid a very good 
 foundation in French composition." 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 23 
 
 An Introduction to the French Language. 
 
 A Practical Grammar, with Exercises. By ALPHONSE N. VAN DAELL, 
 Professor of Modern Languages in the Massachusetts Institute of 
 Technology. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. 6d. 
 
 FRENCH HEADING-BOOKS. 
 
 French Revolution Readings. 
 
 Edited with Notes, Introduction, Helps for Composition and 
 Exercises. By A. JAMSON SMITH, M.A., Head Master of King 
 Edward's School, Camp Hill, Birmingham, and C. M. Dix, M.A., 
 Assistant Master at the Oratory School, Birmingham. Crown 
 8vo. Cloth, red edges. 2s. nett. 
 
 This volume contains a series of extracts from the best French writers 
 upon the Kevolution, such as Michelet, Thiers, Martiu, Mme. Campan, 
 Mme. Eolande, Mignet, etc. The extracts are arranged chronologically, 
 and are chosen with a view to giving the most vivid narrative extant, or 
 the most brilliant commentary upon the successive events. 
 
 E. J. Duncan, Esq., The School, Shrewsbury. " It is rarely oue meets 
 with a book so instructive, both historically and grammatically, and at the 
 game time so exceedingly interesting from beginning to end." 
 
 W. Thomson, Esq., Hutchinson's Girls' Grammar School, Glasgow. 
 " The * French Revolution Readings ' embody a capital idea, combining 
 as they do historical accuracy in a field of surpassing interest with 
 materials and aids towards composition in various styles." 
 
 Emile Richebourg : Le Million du Pere Raclot. 
 
 Edited for use in Schools by JAMES BOIELLB, B.A. (Univ. Gall.), 
 Senior French Master at Dulwich College. Authorized Copyright 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Is. Qd. nett. 
 
 J. B. Osborn, Esq. , Grammar School, Burnley. A most charming story, 
 and very well edited. 
 
 Stahl : Maroussia. 
 
 Edited for use in Schools by JAMES BOIELLE, B.A. (Univ. Gall.), 
 Officier d'Acad^mie, Senior French Master at Dulwich College, 
 Assistant Examiner in the University of London, etc. Authorized 
 Copyright Edition. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Is. 6d. nett. 
 
 The Schoolmaster." The stirring narrative which forms the text will 
 meet with ready acceptance from young and intelligent minds, and the 
 Editor's notes give them all the assistance which they ought to receive." 
 
24 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 Balzac : Une Tenebreuse Affaire. 
 
 Edited for use in Schools, with Notes and Introduction, by JAMES 
 BOIELLE, B.A. (Univ. Gall.), Senior French Master at Dulwich 
 College, etc. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Is. Qd. nett. 
 
 The Schoolmaster. "Forms a good subject for school editing. . . . 
 M. Boielle's notes are, as usual, correct and intelligent, and show a 
 lively appreciation of the difficulties felt by young students, and of the 
 proper way to meet them." 
 
 The Independent, " These tasty little volumes will help considerably 
 to increase the interest in the French language and literature which 
 exists in England. From the clearness and copiousness of the notes, 
 they are particularly well adapted for class-books in schools." 
 
 Victor Hugo's Quatrevingt Treize. 
 
 Edited for use in Schools by JAMES BOIELLE, B.A, (Univ. Gall.), 
 Senior French Master at Dulwich College. Authorized Copyright 
 Edition. Square 8vo. Cloth. 2s. 6d. nett. 
 
 B. Simpson, Esq., Denstone College, Uttoxeter. " I am especially 
 struck with M. Boielle's scholarly renderings in the notes." 
 
 The Principal, Darlington Training College. "I am impressed with 
 the evident care with which it has been edited, and with the excellence 
 of the printing and general appearance of the book." 
 
 Prof. A. L, Meissner, Queen's College, Belfast. "Like the previous 
 editions of Victor Hugo by M. Boielle, it is done with great care." 
 
 J. B. Kershaw, Esq., Grammar School, Wakefield. " Admirably 
 adapted for the upper forms, and a very welcome addition to the stock 
 of such annotated authors." 
 
 Alexandre Dumas' Monte Cristo. 
 
 Edited with Notes and Introduction by FRANCIS TARVER, M.A., 
 Senior French Master at Eton College. Second Edition. Square 
 8vo. Cloth. 2s. Qd. nett. 
 
 Prof. A. L. Meissner, Queen's College, Belfast. "I am glad you have 
 added ' Monte Cristo ' to your French series. No more attractive book 
 could have been chosen." 
 
 E. T. Schoedelin, Esq., Leamington College. " ' Monte Cristo ' especially 
 is very good." 
 
 Alexandre Dumas' Vingt Ans Apres. 
 
 Edited, with Notes and Introduction, by FRANCIS TARVER, M.A., 
 Senior French Master at Eton College. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
 2s. 6d ? nett. [Ready, 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 25 
 
 Henry Greville's Perdue. 
 
 Edited, with Notes and Introduction, by JAMES BOIELLE, B.A. (Univ. 
 Gall.), Senior French Master at Dulwich College. Authorized 
 from the Thirty-ninth French Edition. Square 8vo. Cloth. 
 2s. Qd. nett. 
 
 Miss M. GoldscMld, North London Collegiate School for Girls." A 
 valuable and well-chosen addition to the series of French novels for the 
 use of English students." 
 
 Monsieur Cadic, Alexandra College, Dublin. " The notes do as much 
 credit to the editor as the style in which the volume is got up does to the 
 publisher." 
 
 Dumas's Les Trois Mousquetaires. 
 
 Edited by Professor S DMICHRAST, of Harvard University . 289 pages. 
 Cloth. 3*. 6d. 
 
 Modern French Readings. 
 
 With Helps for Composition. Edited by A. JAMSON SMITH, M.A., 
 Head Master of King Edward's School, Camp Hill, Birmingham. 
 Second Edition. 263 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 
 
 The volume consists of sustained extracts from Dumas, Victor Hugo, 
 Gautier, Guizot, etc, 
 
 A. 0. Allcock, Esq., Head Master of the Modern School, Wellington 
 College. " It is a handy little book of a kind very much needed in schools 
 where French is taught systematically. The selections are certainly 
 admirable, aud the notes very clear and suggestive. I can strongly 
 recommend it." 
 
 
 
 Difficult Modern French. : Extraits choisis parmi les 
 plus Difficiles de la Literature Moderne. 
 
 Edited by ALBERT LEUNE. 8vo. Cloth. 3s. Gd. 
 
 Contemporary French Writers. 
 
 Selections with Notes. Edited by Mile. ROSINE MELL& 8vo. 
 Cloth. 3s. 6d. 
 
 A 4 
 
26 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 GERMAN. 
 Lessons in German. 
 
 A graduated German course, with Exercises and Vocabulary, by 
 L. INNES LUMSDEN, Warden of University Hall, St. Andrews. 
 Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. nett. 
 
 This course is intended to form a complete introductory manual of 
 the German language. The elements of the Grammar have been set 
 forth as fully and simply as possible, while the more difficult peculi- 
 arities of idiom and construction have also been briefly but suggestively 
 dealt with. Care has been taken not to lay down any rule or pro- 
 position without making it clear by a concrete illustration, and great 
 pains have been bestowed on the exercises with this object. 
 
 Wherever possible, the plan has been adopted of treating of one 
 simple theme throughout each pair of linked German and English 
 exercises, so as to familiarize the learner with the particular gram- 
 matical points under illustration, without troubling him unnecessarily 
 in the matter of vocabulary. The words employed are exclusively 
 words worth knowing and remembering, for reading or conversational 
 purposes. 
 
 The Guardian.'* The exercises, especially the later ones, are good, as 
 is also the syntax. ... The book is a good one, and the clearness of the 
 general handling will recommend it to many." 
 
 The Educational Eeview. " A very useful and not too complex German 
 Grammar. The writer has carefully put the material of her book in as 
 brief and simple form as is possible in such an intricate and irregular 
 language." 
 
 GERMAN PLAYS FOR CHILDREN AND SCHOOLS. 
 Kleines Haus Theater. 
 
 Fifteen little plays for children. By Mrs. HUGH BELL. Translated 
 
 into German by A. H. Hutchinson. 
 
 These plays are for the most part translated from Mrs. Hugh Bell's 
 popular Petit Theatre Fran$ais. 
 
 German Dramatic Scenes. 
 By C. ABEL MUSGRAVE. With Notes and Vocabulary. 
 
 These twelve scenes are in fact twelve little plays, introducing the 
 student in the liveliest possible manner to a conversational knowledge 
 of the German language. " I travel with my boys to Germany," says the 
 author, " without a ticket ; we arrive in a second, stay there for an hour, 
 and return home as quick as lightning." We would call attention to the 
 Prefatory "Interview," in which Mr. Musgrave's method of teaching, 
 and the origin of the " Scenes," are vividly described. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. % 27 
 
 A Scientific German Reader. 
 
 Edited and Annotated by G. THEODORE . DIPPOLD, Ph.D. 8vo. 
 Cloth. Illustrated. 4s. 
 
 The Beginner's Book in German. 
 
 Illustrated with humorous pictures. By SOPHIE DOIUOT. vi + 
 273 pages. Square 8vo. Boards. 4s. 6d. 
 
 Graded German Lessons. 
 
 By W. C. COLLAR, A.M., Author of Tlie Beginner's Latin Book ; 
 being Eysenbach's Practical German Grammar revised and largely 
 rewritten, with Notes, Selections for Reading, and Vocabularies, 
 xxiv + 360 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 
 
 Collar's Shorter Eysenbach. 
 
 Eysenbach's Practical German Grammar. Revised and largely re- 
 written, with Notes to the Exercises and Vocabularies, by WILLIAM 
 C. COLLAR. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. 6d. 
 
 German Exercises. 
 
 By J. FREDERICK STEIN, Instructor of German in the Boston High 
 Schools. 118 pages. Cloth. 2s. Qd. 
 
 SPANISH. 
 
 A Grammar of the Modern Spanish Language. 
 
 As now written and spoken in the capital of Spain. By WILLIAM I. 
 KNAPP, Professor in Yale College. 496 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
 7s. Qd. 
 
 Modern Spanish Readings. 
 
 By WILLIAM I. KNAPP, Ph.D., Professor of Modern Languages, Yale 
 
 College. 458 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Is. 6d. 
 The 200 pages of text represent the average modern style of composition 
 in the newspaper article, the novel, the essay, history, and criticism. 
 
 Spanish Idioms, with their English Equivalents. 
 
 Embracing nearly 10,000 phrases. By SAKAH GARY BECKER and 
 Senor FEDERICO MORA. 330 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 10s. 
 
 E. Armstrong, Esq., M.A., Fellow and Lecturer of Queen's College, 
 Oxford, " This is a most useful combination of a phrase-book and a 
 dictionary. It gives in tabular form the various usages of the verbs and 
 other parts of speech most commonly employed in Spanish." 
 
28 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 LATIN. 
 
 A Latin Translation Primer. 
 
 With Grammatical Hints, Exercises, and Vocabulary. By GEORGE 
 B. GARDINER, M.A., D.Sc., Assistant Master at the Edinburgh 
 Academy, and ANDREW GARDINER, M.A. 120 pages. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth. Is. nett. 
 
 This little book is intended to provide interesting and instructive 
 reading-lessons for young boys, and is so graduated that it may be put 
 into their hands a very short time after they have begun the study of 
 Latin. Extreme care has been taken not to anticipate the grammatical 
 knowledge of the learner. The lessons treat chiefly of Ancient 
 History of Classical Antiquities, and have thus a direct bearing on the 
 future work of the pupil. Special attention is drawn to the Conversa- 
 tional Exercises, and the Lessons on Roman life. 
 
 Manchester Guardian, " Very well adapted to its purpose of supplying 
 interesting reading for young beginners in the- language." 
 
 Glasgow Herald. "The passages for translation are very skilfully 
 graded . . . are well selected, and likely to interest youth." 
 
 A First Latin Course. 
 
 By GEORGE B. GARDINER, M.A., D.Sc., and ANDREW GARDINER. 
 M.A. 
 
 This course is intended to supply about two years' work for be- 
 ginners in Latin, and is confined to the Elementary Accidence, the 
 Simple Sentence, and the easiest rules of Syntax. In addition to the 
 Exercises, which are carefully graduated, it contains occasional Con- 
 versations and Examination Papers. 
 
 A Straight Road to Caesar. 
 
 For Beginners in Latin. By G. H. WHITE, A.M., and G. W. 
 WAITE, A.M. 237 pages. 5s. 6d. 
 
 Caesar : Gallic War, Books I. and II. 
 
 Edited for the use of Schools by G. C. HARRISON, M.A., Assistant- 
 Master at Fettes, and late Assistant-Master at Clifton College, and 
 T. H. HADDON, M.A., Assistant-Master at the City of London 
 School. With map, plans, and illustrations. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
 Is. 6d. nett. 
 
 The Introduction is followed by Notes on the Roman Army; with 
 illustrations. Hints for Composition are given, and a copious Vocabulary. 
 
 Caesar : Gallic Wa*, Books IIL-V. 
 
 Edited for the use of Schools, by M. T. TATIIAM, M.A. Uniform 
 with Books 1. and II. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Is. Qd. nett. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 29 
 
 Allen and Greenough's Latin Grammar. 
 
 A Latin Grammar for Schools and Colleges, founded on Comparative 
 Grammar. By J. H. ALLEN", Lecturer at Harvard University, and 
 J. B. GREENOUGH, Professor of Latin at Harvard University. 
 New edition, revised and enlarged. 488 pages. Crown 8vo. 
 Half-morocco. 6s. 
 
 The Classical Review. " No worker in Latin Grammar, and no teacher 
 of Latin Grammar can dispense with the hook in this new edition. Every 
 reader will get both stimulation and light from it." 
 Professor E. A. Sonnenschein. "A thoroughly sound and scientific book." 
 Professor A. S. WUkins, Owens College. "In almost every respect 
 surpassed by no grammar with which I am acquainted." 
 
 The Beginner's Latin Book. 
 
 Complete with Grammar, Exercises, Colloquia, Selections for Trans- 
 lation, and Vocabulary. By WM. C. COLLAR, A.M., Head Master 
 Roxbury Latin School, and M. GRANT DANIELL, A.M., Principal 
 Chauncy Hall School, Boston, xii + 283 pages. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth. 5s. 
 
 Latine Reddenda, 
 
 The English Latin-Exercises from The Beginner's Latin Booh With 
 English-Latin Vocabulary. 58 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 2s. 
 
 Virgil : The .ffineid, Georgics, and Bucolics. 
 
 Edited with Notes and a Life of Virgil, by Professor J. B. 
 GREENOUGH. With 124 Illustrations. 795 pages. Crown 8vo. 
 Half-morocco. 8s. 
 
 Virgil: -ZEneid L-VL, and Bucolics. 
 
 With Notes, and over 100 Illustrations. Forming part of the 
 preceding work by Professor GREENOUGH. Crown 8vo. Half- 
 morocco. 65. The same, with Vocabulary, 8s. 
 
 Virgil : -EJneid VIL-XIL and Georgics. 
 
 Edited with Notes by Professor GREENOUGH, and forming part of the 
 complete edition. Crown 8vo. Half-morocco. 6s. 
 
 Virgil : A Vocabulary to the Complete Works. 
 
 By Professor GREENOUGH. 5*. 
 
 The Gate to Csesar. 
 
 By W. 0. COLLAR, Author of Practical Latin Composition, etc. 
 153 pages. Cloth. 2s. 
 
 This volume contains: (1) A simplified Text of Gallic War, Book II.; 
 (2) The original Text ; (3) Notes on both Texts ; (4) Exercises on the 
 simplified Text ; (5) Vocabulary ; (6) Etymological Vocabulary. 
 
30 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 The First Latin Book. 
 
 By W. C. COLLAR and M. GRANT DANIELL, Authors of T/ie 
 Beginner's Latin Book. 286 pages. Crown 8vo. 4s. 6d. 
 
 Practical Latin Composition. 
 
 By W. C. COLLAR, Author of The Beginner's Latin Booh, etc. 268 
 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. A KEY, 25. 6c?., on Teachers' 
 order only. 
 
 Sustained extracts from Csesar, Livy, Nepos, and Cicero, are preceded 
 by carefully graded Exercises for Prose Composition, hased upon the Latin 
 passages which the pupil has already worked at in translation. Thus the 
 teaching of translation and composition proceeds hand in hand, this being, 
 as the author believes, the only true method of learning a language. A 
 vocabulary is appended. 
 
 The Athenaeum. " . . . "We should like to see the use of this royal 
 road to the mastery of Latin in all fourth and fifth forms made com- 
 pulsory. Our readers ought to judge for themselves of a work which, 
 unpromising as its subject is, has surprised us into an enthusiasm which 
 does not abate on reflection." 
 
 Latin at Sight. 
 
 With an Introduction, Selections for Sight Reading and Selections 
 for Practice, by Professor EDWIN POST. 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6cZ. 
 
 Caesar : Gallic War, Books L-VIL 
 
 Edited with Notes, Introductions, and Vocabulary, by Professors 
 ALLEN and GREENOUGH, and Military Notes by Professor JUDSON. 
 564 pages. Crown 8vo. Red edges, half-morocco. 6s. 
 
 This edition contains numerous maps and vivid illustrations. 
 
 Cicero: Thirteen Selected Orations. 
 
 Pro Rostio Amerino, In Verrem, Pro lege Manilla, In Catilinam 
 I.-IV., Pro Archia, Pro Sestio, Pro Milone, Pro Marcello, Pro 
 Ligario, In M. Antonium Philippica XIV. Edited and abridged 
 with Introductions, Notes, and Vocabulary, by Professors ALLEN 
 and GREENOUQH. 694 pages. Crown 8vo. Half-morocco. 65. 
 
 Ovid : Selections from the Metamorphoses. 
 
 Edited with Introduction, Notes, and Vocabulary, by Professors 
 ALLEN and GREENOUGH. 488 pages. Crown 8vo. Half-morocco 
 IB. Qd. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 31 
 
 Cicero: De Natura Deorum. 
 
 Libri Tres, with the Commentary of Gr. F. SCHOEMANN, translated 
 and edited by AUSTIN STICKNEY. 348 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
 
 18. 
 
 Tacitus ; Germania and Agricola. 
 
 Edited with Introductions and Notes, by the late Professor W. F. 
 ALLEN. 142 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 6d. 
 
 Tacitus: Dialogus de Oratoribus. 
 
 Edited with Prolegomena, Critical Notes, Indices, and Bibliography, 
 by ALFRED GUDEMAN, Professor of Classical Philology, University 
 of Pennsylvania. 8vo. Cloth. 12s. 6d. 
 
 Catullus. 
 
 Edited with Introduction and Notes, by Professor ELMER T. MERRILL, 
 of Wesleyan University. 274 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 6d. 
 The Spectator : " His Introduction is on the whole as thorough and as 
 satisfactory a piece of work as we have ever seen on this subject." 
 Athenaeum: "The Commentary is judicious and scholarly." 
 
 Remnants of Early Latin. 
 
 Chiefly inscriptions. Selected and explained by FREDERICK D. ALLEN, 
 Professor of Classical Philology, Harvard College. 106 pages. 
 Square 16mo. 4s. Qd. 
 
 An Etymology of Latin and Greek. 
 By CHARLES S. HALSEY, A.M. 272 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
 5s. Qd. 
 
 Harvard Studies in Classical Philology. 
 
 Published by authority of Harvard University, and fiftited by Pro- 
 fessors J. B. GREENOUGH, F. D. ALLEN, and J. W. WHITE. Vol. 
 V., for 1894, is now ready, and Vols. I.-IV. can also be 
 obtained. Price of each vol., 65. nett to subscribers ; by post, 65. Qd. 
 A volume of these Studies will be issued annually, and among the con- 
 tributors will be found the ablest scholars of America. 
 
 Six Weeks' Preparation for Reading Caesar. 
 By JAMES M. WHITON. 100 pages. 12mo. Cloth. 2s. 6d. 
 
 A Handbook of Latin Synonymes. 
 
 Based on Meissner*s Kurzgefasste Latdnische SynonymiJc. By 
 EDGAR S. SHTJMWAY, A.M., Adjunct Professor of Latin, Kutgers 
 College. 60 pages. Square 16mo. Leatherette, flexible. 2s. 
 
32 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 The College Series of Latin Authors. 
 
 Edited under the supervision of Professor C. L. SMITH and Professor 
 T. PECK. 
 
 This series comprises a number of volumes selected from the works of 
 the best Latin authors, carefully edited, with Introductions and Com- 
 mentary, for the use of University Students and the Higher Forms in 
 Schools. 
 
 Horace : The Satires and Epistles. By Professor J. B. GHEENOUGH. 
 6s. Gd. 
 
 Horace : The Odes and Epodes. By Professor C. L. SMITH. Is. 6d. 
 
 Cicero : Brutus, sen de Claris Oratoribus. By Professor M. KELLOGQ. 
 6s. Qd. 
 
 Livy. Books I. and II. By Professor J. B. GBEENOUGH. 6. 6d. 
 
 Books XXI. and XXII. By Professors J. B. GREENOUGH and 
 T. PECK. 6. 6d. 
 
 Catullus. By Professor ELMER T. MEREILL. 6*. 6d. 
 
 Tacitus : Annals. Books I.-VI. By the late Professor ALLEN. Is. Qd. 
 Dialogns de Oratoribus. By Professor 0. E. BENNETT. 3a. Qd. 
 
 A Brief History of Roman Literature. 
 
 For Schools and Colleges. Translated and edited from the German 
 edition of Bender by Professors E. P. CROWELL and H. B. 
 RICHARDSON, of Amherst College. 152 pages. Crown 8vo. 5s. Qd. 
 
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 A study of the Military Art of the Romans in the last days of the 
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 Aims and Methods in Classical Study. 
 
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 Based upon Livy, Book XXL, and Selections for translation into 
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EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 33 
 
 GREEK. 
 
 The Beginner's Greek Book. 
 
 By JOHN WILLIAMS WHITE, PhJD., Professor of Greek in Harvard 
 University. Crown 8vo. Half-leather. 6s. Qd. 
 
 The Beginner's Greek Composition. 
 
 Based mainly upon Xenophon's Anabasis, Book I. By WILLIAM 
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 DANIELL, Principal of Chauncy Hall School, viii + 201 pages. 
 Cloth. 4s. 
 
 Homer: Iliad, Vocabulary to Books I.- VI. 
 
 By Professor SEYMOUR. 105 pages. Illustrated. Large Square 8vo. 
 Cloth. 4s. 
 
 Educational Times. "The use of this Vocabulary will prevent the 
 student from unnecessarily wasting time in wading through a Lexicon, 
 with frequently fruitless results." 
 
 The Irregular Verbs of Attic Prose. 
 
 Their Forms, Prominent Meanings, and Important Compounds; 
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 By ADDISON HOGUE, Professor of Greek in the University of 
 Mississippi. 268 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. Qd. 
 
 Pindar iSelected Odes. 
 
 Edited with Notes and an Introduction by THOMAS D. SEYMOUR, 
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 300 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7*. 
 
 The selection includes Olympian Odes, I., II., VI., VIL, XL, XII., 
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 and Fragments. 
 
 Lyric Poets: Selections from the Greek Elegiac, 
 Iambic, and Melic Poets. 
 
 With a Historical Introduction, giving a brief survey of the develop- 
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34 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 The College Series of Greek Authors. 
 
 Edited under the supervision of Professor J. W. WHITE and 
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 This series comprises a number of volumes selected from the works of 
 the hest Greek authors, carefully edited for the use of University Students 
 and the Higher Forms in Schools. Each volume contains a full Intro- 
 duction, with Notes, critical and explanatory, Bhythmical Schemes where 
 necessary, and Appendices giving a brief Bibliography, etc. 
 
 The volumes are uniformly bound in cloth, square 8vo. 
 
 The separate edition of the text is no longer issued with this series. 
 
 Thucydides. Book I. By Professor C. D. MORRIS. Is. 6d. 
 Book III. By Professor C. F. SMITH. Is. Qd. 
 
 Book V. By Professor H. N. FOWLER. 6s. 
 
 Book VII. By Professor C. F. SMITH. 6s. 
 
 Homer : Introduction to Language and Verse. By Professor SEYMOUR. 
 4a. 6d. 
 
 Homer : Iliad. Books I.-III. By Professor SEYMOUR. 6s. 
 Iliad. Books IV.-VI. By Professor SEYMOUR. 6s. 
 Odyssey, Books I.-IV. By Professor PERRIN. 6s. 
 Odyssey. Books V.-VIII. By Professor PERRIN. 6s. 
 Plato : Apology and Crito. By Professor L. DYER. 6. 
 ,, Protagoras. By Principal TOWLE. 6s. 
 Gorgias. By G. LODGE. 7s. 6d. 
 Sophocles : Antigone, By Professor DOOGE. 6s. 
 
 JEschylus; Prometheus Vinctus. Wecklein's Edition, translated by 
 Professor ALLEN. 7s. 6dL 
 Euripides : Bacchantes. By Professor BECKWITH. 6s. 
 
 Iphigenia in Tauris. By Professor FLAGG. 6s. 
 Aristophanes : The Clouds, By Professor HUMPHREYS. 6s. 
 JEschines : in Ctesiphontem. By Professor KICHARDSON. 6s. 
 Xenophon : Hellenica, Books I.-I V. By Professor MANATT. Is. 6d. 
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 Professor Butcher, Edinburgh University. "I have used this edition 
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 I have found it most useful. It embodies the excellent notes of Classen." 
 
 E. M. Burrows, Esq., Lecturer in Greek, Glasgow University. "The 
 Series seems uniformly to attain the level of our very best School Editions, 
 and to be peculiarly w r ell suited for class and lecture use. I found 
 *Dooge's Antigone* a great success as used in our large Senior Class 
 here last winter." 
 
 Greek at Sight. 
 
 Extracts from twelve authors. Selected and arranged by JOHN B. 
 KENDRICK. Crown Ivo. Paper. Is. 6d. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 35 
 
 The Gate to the Anabasis. 
 
 With Colloquia, Notes, and Vocabulary. By CLARENCE W. 
 GLEASON, A.M.. Master in the Roxbury Latin School. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth. 25. 
 
 Anabasis Dictionary. 
 
 An Illustrated Dictionary to Xenophon's Anabasis, with groups of 
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 MORRIS H. MORGAN. 298 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 
 
 The First Pour Books of Xenophon's Anabasis. 
 
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 and Professor J. W. WHITE. With the Illustrated Dictionary of 
 Professors WHITE and MORGAN. Crown 8vo. lii + 290 pages. 
 6s. 
 
 Lysias : Select Orations. 
 
 Comprising the Defence of Mantitheus^ the Oration against Eratos- 
 thenes, the Reply to " The Overthrow of the Democracy" and the 
 Areopagitic Oration concerning the sacred Olive- Trunk. With 
 Biographical Introduction, Notes, and Table of Various Readings. 
 Edited by JAMES MORRIS WHITON, Ph.D. Second Edition. 156 
 pages. Crown 8vo. 5s. 6d. 
 
 A Summary of the Dialect of Herodotus. 
 
 Translated by Professor JOHN WILLIAMS WHITE, Ph.D., from the 
 German of the Fourth Edition of Herodotus, by HEINRICH STEIN. 
 15 pages. Paper. Is. 
 
 Passages for Practice in Unseen Translation. 
 
 Part IV., containing 150 Extracts from the chief Greek Prose 
 Writers and Poets. With an Introduction on the Art of Beading 
 at Sight, by Professor J. W. WHITE. 198 pages. Square 8vo. 
 Cloth. 4:8. d. [Parts I -III. are in preparation. 
 
 An Introduction to the Rhythmic and Metric of 
 the Classical Languages. 
 
 To which are added the Lyric parts of the Medea of Euripides and 
 the Antigone of Sophocles, with Rhythmical Schemes and Com- 
 mentary. By Dr. J. H. HEINRICH SCHMIDT. Translated with the 
 author's sanction by Professor J. W. WHITE, of Harvard Uni- 
 versity, 204 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 14s. 
 
36 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 SANSKRIT, AVESTAN, PALL 
 
 Lanman's Sanskrit Reader. 
 
 New Edition. With Vocabulary and Notes. By CHARLES KOCKWELL 
 LANMAN, Professor of Sanskrit in Harvard College. For use in 
 colleges and for private study, xxiv + 405 pages. Royal 8vo. 
 Cloth. 105. 6d. 
 
 For the convenience of those who possess the old edition, the Notes 
 are also issued separately. 5s. 
 
 Classical Review. "The publication of the long-expected Notes to 
 Professor Lanman's ' Sanskrit Reader ' completes a work for which every 
 beginner of Sanskrit, and not less every teacher of it, in America and 
 England must be thankful. . . . The Reader proper comprises 106 pages 
 of selections. The whole furnishes material for about 150 hours of reading 
 in class. The chief strength and value of the book lie in the admirable 
 Vocabulary and Notes. Here Lanman has outdone himself in conscien- 
 tious and skilful work, drawing without stint upon his wide scholarship, 
 yet never without legitimate purpose or for mere display of learning. 
 The copious Notes are so arranged that the classical student, whose time 
 for Sanskrit is limited, can use them to the best advantage ; while the 
 elaborate literary introductions to the several sections will be highly 
 prized by the more special student of Sanskrit. In fact these introduc- 
 tions, with their full bibliography, are among the very best things ever 
 done in this field, and must prove welcome to advanced scholars as well 
 as to beginners." 
 
 A Sanskrit Primer. 
 
 Based on the Leitfaden fur den Elementarcursus des Sanskrit of Pro- 
 fessor Georg Biihler of Vienna. With Exercises and Vocabularies 
 by EDWARD DELAVAN PEKRY, Ph.D., of Columbia College, New 
 York, xii + 232 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 85. 
 
 A. A. Macdonell, Esq., Deputy Professor of Sanskrit, Oxford University. 
 " It ought to prove a very useful book to beginners of Sanskrit. With 
 its aid students should be able to acquire a practical knowledge of San- 
 skrit in a shorter time than any other elementary Sanskrit book known to 
 me could enable them to do. As it contains a number of exercises both 
 in Sanskrit and English, in addition to the essential rules of the Grammar, 
 it is especially to be recommended to such students as wish to learn 
 Sanskrit without the aid of a teacher." 
 
 Nine Jatakas. 
 
 Pali Text, in Transliteration, with Vocabulary. By LEVI H. ELWELL. 
 iii + 120 pages. Square 16mo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. 
 
 The text consists of easy stories ; the vocabulary is intended to meet the 
 needs of a beginner. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 37 
 
 The Rigveda. 
 
 The oldest literature of the Indians. By ADOLF KAEGI, Professor in 
 the University of Zurich. Authorized translation by R. ARROW- 
 SMITH, Ph.D. viii + 198 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 7s. Qd. 
 
 A. A. Macdonell, Esq., Deputy Professor of Sanskrit, Oxford University. 
 ~ " Arrowsmith's translation of Kaegi's ' Rigveda ' I have found, on com- 
 paring two or three passages with the original German, to be perfectly 
 trustworthy. It is a book that every student of the * Veda ' should possess, 
 as no other work gives so condensed an account of the ' Rigveda,' and of 
 the literature bearing on it." 
 
 Harvard Oriental Series. 
 
 Edited, with the co-operation of various scholars, by CHARLES R. 
 LANMAN, Professor of Sanskrit in Harvard University. 
 
 Vol. I. The Jataka-Mala; or, Bodhisattva Vadana-mala. 
 By ARYA-guRA. Edited by Dr. HENDRIK KERN, Professor in the 
 University of Leyden. Royal 8vo. Cloth, xii + 254 pages. 
 6s. nett. This is the editio princeps of a collection of Buddhist 
 stories in Sanskrit. The text is printed in Deva-nagari characters. 
 
 Vol. II. Kapila's Aphorisms of the Samkhya Philosophy. 
 
 with the commentary of Vijnana-bhiksu. Edited in the original 
 Sanskrit by RICHARD GARBE, Professor in the University of 
 Konigsberg. [In the press. 
 
 Omarah's History of Yaman. 
 
 The Arabic Text, Edited, with a translation, by HENRY CASSELS 
 KAY, Member of the Royal Asiatic Society. Demy 8vo. Cloth. 
 175. Qd. nett. 
 
 Publications of the India Office and of the Govern- 
 ment of India. 
 
 Mr. EDWARD ARNOLD, having been appointed Publisher to the 
 Secretary of State for India in Council, has now on sale the above 
 publications at 37, Bedford Street, Strand, and is prepared to 
 supply full information concerning them on application. 
 
 Indian Government Maps. 
 
 Any of the Maps in this magnificent series can now be obtained at 
 the shortest notice from Mr. EDWARD ARNOLD. Publisher to the 
 India Office. 
 
38 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 "ADMIRABLE IN EVERY RESPECT. "TEACHERS' AID. 
 
 THE MERCANTILE ARITHMETIC. 
 
 A TEXT-BOOK OP PRINCIPLES, PRACTICE, AND TIME-SAVING PROCESSES. 
 
 By RICHARD WORMELL, D.Sc., M.A., 
 
 Head-Master of the Central Foundation Schools of London, Author of 
 A Text-book of Mechanics, etc. 
 
 Dr. Wormell's MERCANTILE ARITHMETIC is now issued in Parts as well 
 as complete, in the following editions : 
 
 The Mercantile Arithmetic, Part I. Cloth. 2s. nett. 
 The Mercantile Arithmetic, Part II. Cloth. 2s. nett. 
 The Mercantile Arithmetic, Parts I. and II. together. 3s. Qd. nett. 
 The Mercantile Arithmetic, complete with Answers. 4s. nett. 
 Answers only, Is. nett. 
 
 The MERCANTILE ARITHMETIC is intended as a manual for general 
 use in Schools, with special reference, in the higher rules, to the needs 
 of those pupils who desire to study Arithmetic for commercial or 
 business purposes ; and great stress is laid upon Time-saving Processes. 
 
 Dr. Haig-Brown, Charterhouse, writes "Dr. Wormell's 'Mercantile 
 Arithmetic ' is a very good book. It is, as his work always is, excellent 
 in its kind." 
 
 Dr. George Ogilvie, George Watson's College, Edinburgh. "I have 
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 for mercantile life. Such a book cannot fail to have a wide circulation." 
 
 Prebendary C. McDowall, Highgate School. " It seems to me to be well 
 arranged, lucid, and simple ; just the book for its special purpose." 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 39 
 
 THE ELEMENTS OF EUCLID, 
 Books I. and II, 
 
 By R. LACHLAN, Sc.D., formerly FeUow of Trinity College, 
 Cambridge. 
 
 Great pains have been taken to embody in this Text Book all the 
 additions and the improvements in statement and method which Dr. 
 Lachlan's wide experience as examiner and teacher have shown to be 
 desirable. He has retained Euclid's Postulates and Axioms, and his 
 sequence of Propositions. In Book I. Euclid's proofs have also, as a 
 rule, been retained, but the text has been very carefully revised, and 
 special attention has been paid to those points which have been found 
 to present difficulties to beginners. In a few cases other proofs have 
 been substituted, but only where experience has shown that the 
 alternative proof is reproduced by learners better than that given by 
 Euclid. In other cases alternative proofs have been given in addition 
 to those of Euclid, to suit the convenience of teachers. 
 i In Book II. the method of proof used for most of the Propositions 
 is that which has been found to teach students the simplest way of 
 solving riders, but at the same time short alternate proofs are added 
 which may be learnt for examination purposes. 
 
 After each Proposition, Notes are added, where necessary, in 
 explanation of difficulties, and a few simple Deductions as exercises. 
 At the end of each section a carefully selected set of harder Exercises 
 is added. 
 
 A few important additional Propositions are inserted in the text 
 immediately after the Propositions with which they are most nearly 
 connected. In the Appendix to each Book will be found all the 
 standard Theorems which a candidate should require for any exami- 
 nation, and a larger collection of Riders and Problems, 
 
 The Elements of Algebra. 
 By R. LACHLAN, Sc.D. [In preparation. 
 
 The Elements of Trigonometry. 
 
 By R. LACHLAN, Sc.D, [In preparation. 
 
40 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 The Concrete Arithmetics. 
 
 By RICHARD LISHMAN, Head Master of tho Belle-Vue Higher 
 Board School, Bradford. 
 
 Standard L Price 2d. ; Cloth, 3d. 
 Standard II. Price 2d. ; Cloth, 3d. 
 Standard III. Price 2d. ; Cloth, 
 
 Standard V. Price 2d. ; Cloth, 3d. 
 Standard VI. Price 3d. ; Cloth, 4d. 
 Standard VII. Price 3d. ; Cloth. 4d. 
 
 Standard IV. Price 2d. ; Cloth, 3d. 
 
 Answers. Cloth. Price M. and 3d. each. 
 
 The Concrete Test Cards. 
 
 By RICHARD LISHMAN. Five packets, each containing 48 Cards and 
 96 Sets of Questions. Price Is. per packet. 
 
 Algebraic Analysis. Part I. 
 
 Solutions and Exercises illustrating the fundamental theorems and 
 the most important processes of pure Algebra. By Professor 
 WENTWORTH, J. A. MCLELLAN, LL.D., Inspector of Normal 
 Schools for Ontario, Canada, and J. C. GLAHAN, Inspector of 
 Public Schools, Ottawa, Canada. 418 pages. Crown 8vo. Half- 
 morocco. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Plane and Solid Geometry. 
 
 By Professor WENTWORTH. 390 pages. Crown 8vo. Half- 
 morocco. 6s. Gd. 
 
 Analytic Geometry. 
 
 By Professor G. A. WENTWORTH. Revised Edition, xii + 301 
 pages. Crown 8vo. Half-morocco. 6s. 6d. 
 
 PART L Plane Geometry: I. Loci and their Equations II. The 
 Straight Line HI. The Circle IV. Different Systems of Co-ordinates 
 V. The Parabola VI. The Ellipse VH. The Hyperbola VIII. Loci 
 of the Second Order IX. Higher Plane Curves. 
 
 PART II. Solid Geometry: I. The Point II. The Plane HI. The 
 Straight Line IV. Surfaces of Revolution. 
 
 This book has been in use at Harrow School. 
 
 Bev. H. Daman, Eton College. " I know of no English book on the 
 subject that I should prefer for a beginner." 
 
 A Treatise on Plane Surveying. 
 
 By DANIEL CARHART, C.E., Professor of Civil Engineering in the 
 Western University of Pennsylvania. Illustrated, xvii + 498 
 pages. 8vo. Half-leather. 10s. 
 
 A Field Book for Civil Engineers. 
 By DANIEL CARHART, C.E. 294 pages. Flexible morocco. 10s. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 41 
 
 Elements of the Integral Calculus. 
 
 By W. E. BYEKLY, Professor of Mathematics in Harvard University. 
 
 New Edition, xvi + 383 pages. 8vo. 10s. Qd. 
 G. A. Gibson, Esq., Glasgow University. "I believe this book to be 
 better than any text- book of the Integral Calculus current in this country," 
 
 Elements of the Differential Calculus. 
 
 With Numerous Examples and Applications. By W. E. BYERLY, 
 Professor of Mathematics, Harvard University. 273 pages. 8vo. 
 10s. Qd. 
 
 G. A. Gibson, Esq., Glasgow University. " Any student who uses thia 
 book and applies himself with earnestness to master its contents, will 
 obtain a thoroughly sound knowledge of the fundamental principles of 
 the Differential Calculus. There is no slipshod work anywhere ; difficulties 
 are honestly met and not slurred over ; and the mode of presentation of 
 the matter seems to me admirably fitted to lead on the student to mastery 
 of the subject." 
 
 An Elementary Treatise on Fourier's Series, 
 
 Arid Spherical, Cylindrical, and Ellipsoidal Harmonics. With 
 Applications to Problems in Mathematical Physics. By WILLIAM 
 ELWOOD BYERLY, Ph.D., Professor of Mathematics in Harvard 
 University. About 300 pages. Koyal 8vo. 12s. 6d. 
 
 Professor G, F. Fitzgerald, Trinity College, Dublin. "Professor 
 Byerly's valuable work it fills a want I have often felt, and seems very 
 admirably done." 
 
 George A. Gibson, Esq., Glasgow University. " Likely to prove very 
 useful as an introduction to mathematical physics. A most valuable 
 addition to mathematical literature, and in every way worthy of 
 Professor Byerly's reputation. A book of this kind was very much 
 needed, and I am very hopeful it will meet with the success its many 
 merits entitle it to." 
 
 Professor Oliver Lodge, University College, Liverpool. "Likely to 
 be extremely useful, and to introduce the various functions arising out of 
 the customary partial differential equations in a fairly simple manner to 
 a wider circle of physical students than heretofore." 
 
 ' W. W. Rouse Ball, Esq., Trinity College, Cambridge." Likely to be 
 of considerable use to students." 
 
 Professor John Perry, Technical College, Finsbury. " One of the most 
 useful books in existence. I have read it with great delight. ... If it 
 had been published twenty years ago what months of worry one would 
 have been saved." 
 
 Professor J. J. Thompson, Trinity College, Cambridge. " This is a 
 subject of great importance to students of mathematical physics, and I 
 feel sure that Professor Byerly's work will prove of great service to such 
 students." 
 
MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 Elements of the Differential and Integral Calculus. 
 
 With Examples and Applications. By J. M. TAYLOR, Professor of 
 Mathematics in Madison University. 249 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 10s. 
 
 The Directional Calculus. 
 
 By E. W. HYDE, Professor of Mathematics in the University of Cin- 
 cinnati. 247 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 10s. 
 
 Elements of the Calculus, based on the Method of 
 Rates. 
 
 By A. S. HARDY, Professor of Mathematics in Dartmouth College. 
 239 pages. 8vo. 10*. 
 
 Elements of Quaternions. 
 
 By A. S. HARDY, Ph.D., Professor of Mathematics, Dartmouth 
 College. Second Edition, revised. 240 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 
 10s. Gd. 
 
 The Method of Least Squares. 
 
 With Numerical Examples of its application; for the use of 
 Astronomers, Physicists, and Engineers. By G. C. COMSTOCK, 
 Professor of Astronomy in the University of Wisconsin, and 
 Director of the Washburn Observatory, viii + 68 pages. 8vo. 
 Cloth. 5s. 6d. 
 
, EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 43 
 
 SCIENCE. 
 
 THE STANDARD COURSE OP ELEMENTARY 
 CHEMISTRY. 
 
 By E. J. COX, F.C.S., Headmaster of the Technical School, 
 Birmingham. 
 
 In Five Parts, issued separately, bound in Cloth and Illustrated. 
 Parts I -IV. Id. each ; Part V. Is. 
 
 The complete work in one vol. Grown Svo. 2s. 6d. nett. 
 
 This is believed to be the first attempt to bring the study of 
 Chemistry and Physics within the range of pupils at the earliest school 
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 veyed, will lay the foundation for advanced scientific study at a later 
 stage of the pupil's career, and at the same time provide a means of 
 immediate mental training and discipline, not inferior to that of a 
 classical curriculum. 
 
 The work has been purposely issued at an extremely low price, and 
 the apparatus required for conducting the experiments is simple and 
 inexpensive. 
 
 Adopted by the School Boards for London, Edinburgh, etc. 
 
 Part I, Properties of the Com- 
 mon Gases. 
 
 TT rm, ,V A 
 
 II. The Atmosphere. binationj 
 
 HI. Water. 
 
 Part IV. Carbon and Non-metal- 
 lic Elements. 
 V. Metallic Bodies, Com- 
 
 and Formulae. 
 
 Journal of Education. "A capital book both for the teacher and 
 practical elementary student." 
 
 J. J. Broomhead, Esq., Organizer of Technical Instruction, St. Helens. 
 " The author has successfully accomplished the difficult task of writing 
 simply, clearly, and attractively upon a subject abounding with technical 
 terms so confusing to the young mind." 
 
 H. Needham, Esq., Webster's Whittington Endowed Schools, Chester- 
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 them admirably adapted for school use. The principal facts are splendidly 
 displayed in bold print, are proved by experiments requiring only the 
 simplest apparatus, aud carefully summarized at the end of each chapter. 
 These features, together with the admirable sets of questions at the end 
 of each subject, render the books invaluable both for day and evening 
 schools." 
 
44 
 
 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 An Introduction to Chemical Science. 
 
 Edited for the use of Schools, by B. P. LASCELLES, M.A., Assistant- 
 Master and Librarian at Harrow School, and B. P. WILLIAMS, 
 Instructor in Chemistry in the English High School, Boston. 224 
 pages, with 50 Illustrations. Second Edition. Cloth, red edges. 
 85. Qd. 
 
 Nature. " There could hardly 
 be a more concise and well-digested 
 summary of elementary chemical 
 principles and applications than 
 that contained in this work." 
 
 H. A. Allen, Esq., Ampleforth 
 College, York. " I think it a most 
 admirable text-book on the subject. 
 After a careful study of it, I may 
 say that for good, concise, and 
 reliable information, it has no equal 
 of its size." 
 
 W. J. Harrison, Esq., Science 
 Demonstrator, Birmingham. " It 
 is evidently an admirable book." 
 
 E. GK Durrant, Esq., The College, 
 Marlborough. "I have used the 
 Chemistry for four terms, and have 
 much pleasure in recommending 
 it. It meets a difficulty which is 
 very general, I should imagine, 
 in schools, viz. that of blend- 
 ing Theoretical with Practical 
 Chemistry." 
 
 An Introduction to Physical Science. 
 
 By A. P. GAGE, Professor of Physics in the English High School, 
 Boston, Mass, viii + 353 pages. With numerous Illustrations 
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 J. K. McClellan, Esq., Royal Agricultural College, Cirencester. "An 
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 K. H, Jude, Esq., School of Science, Newcastle-on-Tyne. "I like the 
 Physics very much; its characteristic feature is that it is practical, a 
 feature sadly lacking in most elementary English books." 
 
 Elements of Physics. 
 
 A Text-book for Schools and Colleges, more advanced than the pre- 
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 English High School, Boston. 424 pages. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 W. Brown, Esq., Koyal College of Science, Dublin. "A capital book 
 for students beginning the study of Physics." 
 
 Principles of Physics. 
 
 By ALFRED P. GAGE, A.M., Ph.D., Professor of Physics in the 
 English High School, Boston. [In preparation. 
 
 Laboratory Manual of Elementary Physics. 
 
 By A. P. GAGE, Professor of Physics, English High School, Boston, 
 and author of Elements of Physics, Introduction to Physical 
 Science, etc. Crown 8vo. Boards. 2s. 
 
CATALOGUE. 45 
 
 A JtfEW ELEMENTARY TEXT-BOOK OF 
 MECHANICS. 
 
 By R. WORMELL," D.Sc., M.A., Headmaster of the Central 
 Foundation Schools of London. 
 
 With 90 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. nett. 
 
 An entirely new work, specially adapted for the London Matricula- 
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 other examinations. 
 
 %* Solutions to Problems for Teachers and Private Students. 
 3s. nett 
 
 J. Murray, Esq., Seaford College." To say that I am delighted with 
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 it here, and recommend it to all my friends." 
 
 J. M. Wilson, Esq., Portsoy. " Distinctly the best book on the subject 
 for the Science and Art Examiners I have seen. The drawings are good, 
 the letterpress with its different types will make the book a splendid one 
 for students. The explanations, I need not say, seem to me very clear." 
 
 Dr. Ogilvie, Gordon's College, Aberdeen. "An excellent little book. 
 It is written with a keen appreciation of the difficulties encountered by 
 the beginner in this subject. Accordingly the illustrative examples are 
 very fully explained. The treatment of accelerated motion, a difficult 
 subject to boys, is particularly good." 
 
 Lectures on Sound. 
 
 By RICHARD WORMELL, D.Sc., M.A., Head-Master of the Central 
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 8vo. Price Is. nett. 
 
 Lectures on Light. 
 
 By RICHARD WORMELL, D.Sc., M.A. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth. Price Is. nett. 
 
 Lectures on Heat. 
 
 By RICHARD WORMELL, D.Sc., M.A. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth. Price Is. nett. 
 
 CK Cargill, Esq., Wellington College, Shropshire." Eminently suitable 
 for Science and Art Classes." 
 
46 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 A General Astronomy. 
 
 By CHARLES A. YOUNG, Professor of Astronomy in the College of 
 New Jersey, Associate of the Royal Astronomical Society, Author 
 of The, Sun, etc. In one vol. 550 pages. With 250 Illustrations, 
 and supplemented with the necessary Tables. Royal 8vo. Half- 
 morocco. 12^. 6d. 
 
 Professor Piazri Smyth." A grand book by a grand man. The work 
 should become a text-book wherever the English language is spoken, for 
 no abler, no more trustworthy compilation of the kind has ever appeared 
 for the advantage of students in any line of higher education." 
 
 Nature. " We know of no other book which is so comprehensive and 
 at the same time so well adapted for the use of those who aim at some- 
 thing more than a mere smattering of astronomical knowledge. The 
 language is clear, and to simplify matters there are over two hundred 
 excellent illustrations. Further, as might be expected from the fact that 
 Professor Young teaches Astronomy, the book is not diluted with irrelevant 
 matter." 
 
 The Elements of Astronomy, with a Uranography. 
 
 By Professor CHARLES A. YOUNG, Author of A General Astronomy, 
 etc. x + 472 pages, with numerous Illustrations and four Star 
 Maps. Crown 8vo. Half-morocco. Is. 6d. 
 
 The Uranography, covering the constellations visible in U.S.A., 
 can also be had separately. Price 2s. 
 
 This volume is designed as a text-book for schools and science classes. 
 No mathematics higher than elementary algebra and geometry are intro- 
 duced in the text ; in the foot-notes and appendix an occasional trigono- 
 metric formula appears. It is one of the chief aims of the book to teach 
 astronomy scientifically without requiring more knowledge and skill in 
 mathematics than can bo fairly expected from the students for whom it is 
 prepared. 
 
 Educational Times. " The student who commences the study of 
 astronomy with this text-book, will be sure of having his study placed 
 on a firm basis, and will have nothing to unlearn when he pursues the 
 subject to further detail." 
 
 Lessons in Astronomy, including Uranography. 
 
 By Professor CHARLES A. YOUXG, author of A General Astronomy, 
 etc. With numerous Illustrations and four double-page Star 
 Maps. 357 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Qs. 
 
 This volume has been prepared for schools that desire a brief course 
 free from mathematics. 
 
 Elementary Meteorology. 
 
 By WILLIAM M. DAVIS, Professor of Physical Geography in Harvard 
 College. With Maps and Charts. 366 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 
 10*. 6rf. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 47 
 
 An Introduction to Spherical and Practical Astro- 
 nomy. 
 
 By DASCOM GREENE, Professor of Mathematics and Astronomy in 
 the Kensselaer Institute, New York. 8vo. Cloth. Illustrated. 
 7s. 6d. 
 
 Schemer's Astronomical Spectroscopy. 
 
 Translated, Kevised, and Enlarged, by E. B. FKOST, Associate Pro- 
 fessor of Astronomy in Dartmouth College. Illustrated. 8vo. 
 21s. 
 
 Plant Organization. 
 
 By R. H. WARD, Professor of Botany in the Rensselaer Polytechnic 
 Institute. 4to. Flexible boards. 4s. 
 
 Elements of Structural and Systematic Botany. 
 
 By DOUGLAS HOUGHTON CAMPBELL, Ph.D., Professor of Botany in 
 the Indiana University, ix + 250 pages. With 128 Illustrations. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 
 
 THE JOURNAL OP MORPHOLOGY. 
 
 A Journal of Animal Morphology, devoted principally to Embryo- 
 logical, Anatomical, and Histological subjects. Edited by C. 0. 
 WHITMAN, Professor of Biology in Clark University, U.S.A. 
 
 Three Numbers in a Volume, of 100 to 150 large 4to pages, with 
 numerous Plates. Single Numbers, 17s. 6d. ; Subscription to the 
 Volume of three Numbers, 45s. Volumes I.-IX. can now be 
 obtained, and the first number of Volume X. is just ready. 
 
 Professor Huxley. " I am obliged for the number of the Journal of Mor- 
 phology which you have sent me. It appears to be a valuable publication." 
 
 Professor Bay Lankester. " Every one who is interested in the kind of 
 work published in it knows it. It is taken by all the chief libraries of 
 colleges, universities, etc., both in England and the Continent." 
 
 Professor Michael Foster. " The Journal of Morphology is too well 
 known and appreciated to need any praise from me." 
 
 The late Professor A. Milnes Marshall, Owens College, Manchester. "I 
 am well acquainted with the Journal of Morphology, and have taken it in 
 since its commencement. The American School of Morphology is rapidly 
 assuming a very prominent position, and this Journal is the recognized 
 medium of publication for their best work. Many papers of great value 
 have already appeared in it ; and the average standard of the contents is 
 undoubtedly a high one." 
 
48 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD^ 
 
 Animal Life and Intelligence. 
 
 By C. LLOYD MORGAN, Professor of Biology, and Principal of Uni- 
 versity College, Bristol. Author of A Text-Book of Biology, etc. 
 With 40 Illustrations and Diagrams. Second Edition. Demy 8vo. 
 Cloth. 16s. 
 
 CONTENTS : The Nature of Animal Life The Process of Life The 
 Senses of Animals Mental Processes in Man Mental Processes in 
 Animals The Feelings of Animals Animal Activities : their habits 
 and instincts Reproduction and Development Variation and Natural 
 Selection Heredity and the Origin of Variations Organic Evolution 
 Mental Evolution. 
 
 Professor A. B. Wallace, in Nature. " The work will prove a boon to 
 all \vho desire to gain a general knowledge of the more interesting 
 problems of modern biology and psychology by the perusal of a single 
 compact, luminous, and very readable volume." 
 
 Animal Sketches. A Popular Book of Natural 
 History. 
 
 By Professor C. LLOYD MORGAN, F.G.S., Principal of University 
 College, Bristol, Author of Animal Life and Intelligence, The 
 Springs of Conduct, etc. With nearly 60 Illustrations by W. 
 MOXKHOUSE ROTVE. New and Cheaper Edition. Large Crown 
 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. 
 
 CONTENTS: The King of Beasts Bruin the Bear Long-Nose, Long- 
 Neck, and Stumpy Cousin Sarah Sally's Poor Belations Horns and 
 Antlers Seals and Sea Lions Awuk the Walrus Flittermice Master 
 Impertinence Snakes The Ostrich Dwarf Lions Froggies Thornies 
 and Tinkers Eels and Elvers The Oyster The Honey Bee Spiders 
 Crayfishes The Mermaid. 
 
 Professor Boyd Dawkins, "A beautiful book, beautifully illustrated 
 by Mr. Howe." 
 
 The Guardian. "One of the most simply delightful books about 
 Natural History that has come under our notice since the days of Frank 
 Buckland, whose mantle, indeed, the present author appears to have 
 inherited." 
 
 Biological Lectures. 
 
 Delivered at the Marine Biological Laboratory of Wood's Holl, 
 U.S.A., by Professor WHITMAN and others. First Series 1890. 
 Demy 8vo, with numerous Illustrations. 8s. 6d. Second Series 
 1893. Third Series 1894. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 49 
 
 TECHNOLOGY. 
 
 A Course of Bench- Work in Wood. 
 
 A Hand-book for Teachers and Pupils in Technical Schools and 
 Manual Training Classes. By W. F. M. Goss, Professor of 
 Practical Mechanics, Purdue University, U.S.A. With over 300 
 Illustrations. Cloth. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Professor Unwin, City and Guild's Institute. " I think it a very useful 
 and well- written hook." 
 
 Professor Ripper, The Technical School, Sheffield. " It seems a very 
 good book, and I shall have pleasure in recommending it." 
 
 C, J. Pearson, Esq., Instructor in Applied Drawing to the Liverpool 
 School Board. " In my opinion the book is a very useful one." 
 
 W. H. Watkinson, Esq., Science Department, Central Higher School, 
 Sheffield. " It is the best book for apprentices and students that I have 
 seen on the subject" 
 
 D, Barrett, Esq., Trade School, Keighley. " I have brought it under 
 the notice of my Manual Master, and we are agreed the book is a good 
 one." 
 
SO MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 HISTORY. 
 
 A History of England. 
 
 By C. W. OMAN, M.A., Fellow of All Souls 1 College, and Lecturer 
 on History at New College, Oxford, Author of Warwick the King- 
 maker, etc. 
 
 A History of England, from the Earliest Times to the Present Day. 
 Fully furnished with Maps, Plans of the Principal Battle-fields, and 
 Genealogical Tables. 760 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. Qd. 
 nett. 
 
 Guardian. " This is the nearest approach to the ideal School History 
 of England which has yet been written. It is of reasonable length. A 
 just proportion between the several periods is carefully observed. Every 
 page bears the stamp of the practised historian and the practised teacher. 
 Unmistakable marks of the historical insight and the historical judg- 
 ment which appertain only to the aristocracy of historians are everywhere 
 visible. But the special characteristic which to our mind raises Mr. 
 Oman's work distinctly above previous efforts in the same direction is 
 the gift which Matthew Arnold used to call ' lucidity/ Every sentence 
 rings out clear and sound as a bell, without any of that affectation of 
 childishness which was once so common, without any of the heavy 
 dulness usually so painfully prevalent." 
 
 Dr. Haig-Brown, Charterhouse, writes : " The difficulty of condensa- 
 tion, which must have been very great, is met with admirable judgment, 
 and the language in which the facts are expressed is at once concise and 
 clear. The writer is a master of his subject, and he has conveyed his 
 information in such a manner as must be most helpful to young students. 
 I doubt if a better book for school use could have been written." 
 
 Academy. "Distinctly fills a void in supplying an accurate sketch 
 of our history recorded in an interesting way. . . . the clear and 
 interesting narrative of events between 1815 and 1837. It would be 
 hard to find any book containing a record of the time more full and 
 accurate for the strict limits within which it is confined. . . . Mr. 
 Oman has carried out with success the task he set himself. Any one 
 acquainted with the difficulties of satisfying the requirements of educa- 
 tion and examination alike will know it is no easy one, but we have no 
 hesitation in saying that he has reconciled these demands so far as 
 our present system will allow." 
 
 Leeds Mercury. "Is written with an easy command of facts and 
 admirable skill in their handling." 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 51 
 
 Friends of the Olden Time. 
 
 By ALICE GARDNER, Lecturer in History at Newnham College, 
 Cambridge. Illustrated. Square 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Saturday Review. " A capital little book for children, whose interest 
 in history it is desired to stimulate by lively and picturesque narratives of 
 the lives of heroes, and the nobler aspects of heroic times. Leonidas and 
 Pericles, Solon and Socrates, Camillus and Hannibal, the Gracchi and 
 Alexander, form the subject of Miss Gardner's Animated Recitals, which 
 possess all the charm of simplicity and clearness that should belong to 
 stories told to children." 
 
 The Battles of Frederick the Great. 
 
 Extracts from Carlyle's History of Frederick the Great. 
 Edited by CYRIL KANSOME, M.A., Professor of History in the York- 
 shire College, Leeds. With a Map specially drawn for this work, 
 Carlyle's original Battle-Plans, and Illustrations by ADOLPII 
 MENZEL. Cloth. Crown 8vo. 5s. 
 
 Journal of Education. " Carlyle's battle-pieces are models of care and 
 of picturesque writing, and it was a happy thought to disinter them from 
 the bulk of the History of Frederick. The illustrations are very spirited." 
 
 Men of Might : Studies of Great Characters. 
 By A. C. BENSON, M.A., and H. F. W. TATHAM, M.A., Assistant- 
 Masters at Eton College. Square 8vo. Cloth. 3s. Gd. 
 CONTENTS : 
 
 Socrates. 
 Mahomet. 
 St. Bernard. 
 Savonarola. 
 Michael Angelo. 
 
 Carlo Borrome'o. 
 Fenelon. 
 John Wesley. 
 George Washington. 
 Henry Martyn. 
 
 Dr. Arnold. 
 Livingstone. 
 General Gordon. 
 Father Damien. 
 
 Guardian. " Models of what such compositions should be; full of 
 incident and anecdote, with the right note of enthusiasm, where it justly 
 comes in, with little if anything of direct sermonizing, though the moral 
 for an intelligent lad is never far to seek. It is a long time since we 
 have seen a better book for youngsters." 
 
 The Leading Pacts of English History. 
 By D. H. MONTGOMERY. With Maps and Tables. 448 pages. 
 Crown 8vo. -Cloth. 65. 
 
 The Leading Facts of French History. 
 
 By D. H. MONTGOMERY. With Maps and Tables. 321 pages. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 65. 
 
 Educational Times." The right books have been consulted ; the facts 
 and views are well up to date ; and the language itself is bright and 
 attractive." 
 
52 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 The Leading Pacts of American History. 
 
 By D. H. MONTGOMERY. With numerous Maps and Illustrations. 
 359 pages. Crown 8vo. Half-morocco. 5s. 6d. 
 
 The Saturday Eeview. "It is as entertaining as a good story-book, yet 
 faithful to the author's three chief objects, * accuracy of statement, simplicity 
 of style, and impartiality of treatment/ The numerous wood-cuts and 
 maps, some of which are from old and curious sources, are excellently 
 illustrative of this capital compendium of American History." 
 
 The Beginner's American History. 
 By D. H. MONTGOMERY, Author of " The Leading Facts of History " 
 Series. With numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 
 
 The Reader's Guide to English History. 
 By WILLIAM FRAXCIS ALLEN, A.M., late Professor in the University 
 of Wisconsin. 50 pages. Long 8vo. Paper. Is. Qd. 
 
 Reference Handbook of English History. 
 For Readers, Students, and Teachers. By W. H. GURNET. 114 
 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. 
 
 An Introduction to the Study of the Middle Ages. 
 
 From the Battle of Adrianople to the death of Charlemagne, A.D. 
 378-814. By EPHRAIM EMERTOX, Professor of History in Harvard 
 University. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. Qd. 
 
 Mediaeval Europe : 800 to 1300 A.D. 
 
 By EPHRAIM EMERTON. A continuation of the author's Introduction 
 to the " Study of the Middle Ages." Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 6d. 
 
 Caesar's Army. See page 32. 
 
 A Brief History of Roman Literature. Seepage 32. 
 
 Outline of the Principles of History. 
 By JOHANN GUSTAV DROYSEN, late Professor of History in the 
 University of Berlin. Translated by E. B. ANDREWS, President 
 of Brown University, U.S.A. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. Qd. 
 
 The Political Value of History. 
 
 By W. E. H. LECKY, D.C.L., LL.D. An Address delivered at the 
 Midland Institute, reprinted with additions. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
 2s. 6d. 
 
 Cambridge Eeview. " It should be read by all students of history and 
 political science." 
 
 Educational Times. " There is nothing in it which is not sound and 
 true, and excellently put," 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 53 
 
 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 A Historical Geography. 
 
 By the late DR. MORRISON. New Edition, revised and largely re- 
 written by W. L. CARRIE, English Master at George Watson's 
 College, Edinburgh. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Shilling Geography. 
 
 By the late DR. MORRISON. New Edition, revised by W. L. CARRIE, 
 English Master at George Watson's College, Edinburgh. Small 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. Is. 
 
 The Story of Our Continent. An Outline of the 
 Geography and Geology of North America. 
 
 By N. S. SHALE R, Professor of Geology in Harvard College, Author 
 of Nature and Man in America, etc. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. Qd. 
 
 Journal of Education. " "We have read it with interest and pleasure, 
 and with increasing conviction that both teachers and pupils in the 
 higher forms of our schools will find the book of great value and 
 delightfully suggestive." 
 
 A Primary Geography. 
 
 By ALEX. EVERETT FRYE, Author of Child and Nature, Brooks 
 and Brook Basins, etc. Crown 4to. Cloth. 2s. Qd. nett. Pro- 
 fusely illustrated with pictures, diagrams, coloured maps, and 
 numerous photographs of relief maps. 
 
 Nature. "The book is both attractive and instructive; it reflects 
 great credit upon the author for his originality. . . . We should be glad 
 to see a similar work produced on this side of the Atlantic. ... In the 
 matter of illustrations the work excels all others of its kind." 
 
 Education Eeyiew. "An admirable little work. Of a convenient 
 quarto size, it gives a number of beautiful illustrations and really pro- 
 fusely illustrates its subject within surprisingly short space. In addition 
 to the excellent illustrations from finely cut wood blocks, we have photo- 
 graphic maps of relief models. These are very beautiful, and their use- 
 fulness need not be insisted upon here. . . . There is no book in England 
 which can compare with this as an introduction to a sound, a systematic 
 and a true knowledge of the world and its people." 
 
 School Guardian. "A very remarkable work, very different from the 
 ordinary geography lesson book." 
 
 Geographical Journal." This beautifully illustrated quarto is a fair 
 specimen of the fine work habitual in the school geographies in use in 
 America. The design of the book is as good as its execution." 
 
54 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 A Primary Geography continued. 
 
 Pupil Teacher. " This is no ordinary text-book, nor is it a play book, 
 but it is a rational book suitable alike for the nursery, play-room, or 
 the class. It is an admirable primary geography, the beau-ideal based 
 upon the best principles of teaching, appealing to the eye by comparative 
 maps, relief maps, pictures innumerable, and verbal pictures in the 
 simplest yet most accurate language. If the teachers of the lower stan- 
 dards could have the book, an intelligent foundation would be laid, an 
 interest fostered in the study of Geography. Happy the child who 
 might get this volume as a prize." 
 
 A Complete Geography. 
 
 By ALEX. EVERETT FRYE. This is a similar book to Frye's 
 Primary Geography, but much larger and with many more 
 illustrations and maps. Royal 4to. Cloth. 5s. nett. 
 
 GEOGRAPHICAL LANTERN SLIDES. 
 
 Lantern Slides of the Relief Maps and other plates in Frye's 
 Primary Geography and Frye's Complete Geography (which are 
 strictly copyright) can be obtained on application. Price Is. 3d. 
 each, or 12s. a dozen. 
 
 SCRIPTURE HISTORY. 
 
 Lessons in Old Testament History. 
 
 By the Venerable Archdeacon AGLEN, formerly Assistant-Master at 
 Marlborough College. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 55 
 
 PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Lotze's Philosophical Outlines. 
 
 Dictated Portions of the Latest Lectures (at Gottingen and Berlin) 
 of Hermann Lotze. Translated and edited by GEORGE T. LADD, 
 Professor of Philosophy in Yale College. About 180 pages in each 
 volume. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Price 4s. each. 
 
 Vol. I. Metaphysics. 
 II. Philosophy of Religion, 
 III. Practical Philosophy. 
 
 Vol. IV. Psychology. 
 V. .Esthetics. 
 VI. Logic. 
 
 Professor Camphell Fraser, Edinburgh University. "Both volumes 
 (' Psychology ' and ' Metaphysics ') seem worthy of the high reputation 
 alike of the German author and the American editor, and therefore suited 
 to present in good order and with a due estimate of their relative import- 
 ance, some of the most important inquiries in elementary Psychology, and 
 problems in abstract Metaphysics." 
 
 The Spectator. " No man of letters, no specialist in science, no philo- 
 sopher, no theologian but would derive incalculable benefit from the 
 thorough study of Lotze's system of philosophy." 
 
 Mechanism and Personality. 
 
 An Outline of Philosophy in the Light of the Latest Scientific 
 Research. By FRANCIS A. SHOUP, D.D. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 
 
 A Primer of Ethics. 
 
 By BENJAMIN COMEGYS. Edited on the basis of Jacob Abbott's 
 Code of Morals. 128 pages. Crown 8 vo. Cloth. 2s. 
 
 The Ethics of Hegel. 
 
 Translated Selections from his " Rechtsphilosophie," with an Intro- 
 duction by Professor J. MACBRIDE STEKRETT. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth. 5s. 
 
 Ethics for Young People. 
 
 By C. C. EVERETT, Professor of Theology in Harvard University. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 2s. 6d. 
 
 OUTLINE OF CONTENTS : Chaps. 1-10, Morality in General ; Chaps. 
 11-20, Duties towards Oneself; Chaps. 21-29, Duties towards Others; 
 Chaps. 30-36, Helps and Hindrances. 
 
 The Guardian, " A series of essays on the generally recognized virtues 
 and the commoner faults to which the young are liable. It has a truly 
 educative tendency, and is one of a type of book that we should be glad 
 to see more frequently studied in our schools." 
 
56 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 Duty; a Book for Schools. 
 
 By JULIUS H. SEELYE, D.D., LL.D., late President of Amherst 
 College. 70 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Is.&d. 
 
 The Philosophical Review. 
 
 Edited by J. Gr. SCHUBMA}*, Professor of Philosophy in Cornell 
 University, U.S. A. Six numbers a year. Single Numbers, 3s. Qd. 
 Annual Subscription, 14s., post free. The first number was issued 
 in January, 1892. The Review ranges over the whole field of 
 Philosophy ; the articles are signed, and the contributors include 
 the names of the foremost philosophical teachers and writers 
 of America, and many of those of England and the Continent of 
 Europe. 
 
 The Springs of Conduct. 
 
 By Professor C. LLOYD MORGAN, author of Animal Life and Intel- 
 ligence , etc. Cheaper Edition. Large Crown 8vo. 3s. Qd. 
 
 The Ethics of Hume. 
 
 By Dr. J. H. HYSLOP, of Columbia College, U.S.A. 275 pages. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. 6d. 
 
 This volume contains the whole of the third book of the Treatise of 
 Human Nature, and such portions of the second book as throw light upon 
 or are connected with Hume's Moral TJieory. 
 
 The Psychic Factors of Civilization. 
 
 By LESTER F. WAKD. 389 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 8s. 6& 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE.. 57 
 
 POLITICS AND ECONOMICS* 
 
 Political Science and Comparative Constitutional 
 
 Law. 
 
 By Joiis W. BURGESS, Ph.D., LL.D., Dean of the University 
 Faculty of Political Science in Columbia College, U.S.A. In 2 
 vols. DemySvo. Cloth. 25s. 
 
 The Times. "The work is full of keen analysis and suggestive 
 comment, and may be confidently recommended to all serious students of 
 comparative politics and jurisprudence." 
 
 The Philosophy of Wealth. 
 
 Economic Principles Newly Formulated. By Professor JOHN B. 
 CLARK, A3L xiii+ 235 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. Qd. 
 
 Our Government (of U.S.A.) : How it Grew; What 
 it Does; and How it Does it. 
 
 By JESSE MACY, Professor of History and Political Science in Iowa 
 College. 250 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. Qd. 
 
 Professor James Bryce, LL.D., M.P. " An admirable elementary sketch, 
 for school use, of the structure and functions of the Federal and States 
 Government" 
 
 The Modern Distributive Process. 
 
 Studies of Competition and its Limits, of the Nature and Amount of 
 Profits, and of the Determination of Wages in the Industrial Society 
 of to-day. By JOHN B. CLARK, Author of the Philosophy of Wealth, 
 and FRANKLIN H. GIDDINGS. 77 pages. 8vo. Cloth. 4s. 6d. 
 
 Sharing the Profits. 
 By M. W. CALKINS, A.M. 70 pages. Crown 8vo. Paper. Is. Qd. 
 
 A compilation of facts and figures, bearing on one of the most impor- 
 tant problems of social science. It is an attempt to state, in the shortest 
 and clearest terms, the theory of Profit-sharing, to explain its methods, 
 and to describe its results. 
 
 The Mark in Europe and America. 
 
 A Review of the discussion on Early Land Tenure. By ENOCH A. 
 BRYAN, A.M., President of Washington State Agricultural College 
 and School of Science. 172 pages. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. Qd. 
 
58 MR. EDWARD ARNOLDS 
 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 The International Education Series. 
 
 Edited by WILLIAM T. HARRIS, LL.D., United States Commissioner 
 of Education. 
 
 This series is one of a truly international character, and deals with 
 problems of universal interest. It forms an admirable collection for 
 Teachers and Students of Educational subjects, and should find a place 
 on the shelves of every Library. Each Volume can be obtained sepa- 
 rately, and forms an independent work in itself. The Series is uniformly 
 bound in ornamental cloth covers, crown 8vo., well printed on good 
 paper, with Diagrams and Illustrations where necessary. 
 
 The Philosophy of Education. By JOHANN KARL ROSENERANZ, Doctor 
 
 of Theology and Professor of Philosophy at Konigsberg. (Translated.) 
 
 Second Edition, xii + 286 pages. 6s. 
 A History of Education. By Professor F. V. N. PAINTER, xvi + 335 
 
 pages. 6s. 
 The Ventilation and Warming of School Buildings. With Plans and 
 
 Diagrams. By GILBERT B. MORRISON, xxiv + 173 pages. 4a. 6d. 
 Froebel's " Education of Man." Translated by W. N. HAILMAN. xx 
 
 + 332 pages. Qs. 
 Elementary Psychology and Education. By Dr. J. BALDWIN. Illustrated. 
 
 xviii + 293 pages. 6s. 
 The Senses and the Will. Forming Part I. of The Mind of the Child. By 
 
 W. PREYER, Professor of Physiology in the University of Jena. 
 
 (Translated.) xxvi + 346 pages. 6s. 
 The Development of the Intellect. Forming Part II. of The Mind of the 
 
 CJiild. By Professor W. PREYER. (Translated.) xlii + 318 pages. 6. 
 How to Study Geography. By FRANCIS W. PARKER. 400 pages. 6s. 
 A History of Education in the United States. By RICHARD A. BOONE, 
 
 Professor of Pedagogy in Indiana University, xvi + 402 pages. 6*. 
 European Schools ; or, What I saw in the Schools of Germany, France, 
 
 Austria, and Switzerland. By L. E. KLEMM, Ph.D. With numerous 
 
 Illustrations, xii + 419 pages. 8s. 6d. 
 Practical Hints for Teachers. By GEORGE HOWLAND, Superintendent of 
 
 the Chicago Schools, xii + 198 pages. 4s. Qd. 
 School Supervision. By J. L. PICKARD. 4s. 6d. 
 Higher Education of Women in Europe, HELENE LANGE. 4s. 6d. 
 Herbart's Text-Book in Psychology. By M. K. SMITH. 4s. 6d. 
 Psychology applied to the Art of Teaching. By Dr. J. BALDWIN, xvi 
 
 + 380 pages. 6s. 
 
 Fouillee's Education from a National Standpoint 7s. Qd. (See p. 59.) 
 Adler's Moral Instruction of Children, 69. 
 
EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 59 
 
 The International Education Series continued. 
 
 Rousseau's Emile. 6s. (See p. 60.) 
 
 Sharpless' English Education. 4. 6d. (See below.) 
 
 Symbolic Education. By SUSAN E. BLOW. 6s. 
 
 How to study and teach History. By B. A. HINSDALE. 6, 
 
 Systematic Science Teaching. By E. G. HOWE. 6s. 
 
 The Education of the Greek People. By THOMAS DAVIDSON. (See p. 60.) 
 
 The Infant Mind. By W. PBEYER. 4s. 6d. (See below.) 
 
 Education from a National Standpoint. 
 
 Translated from the French of ALFRED FOUILLEE by W. J. GREEN- 
 STEEET, M.A., Head Master of the Marling School, Stroud. 
 Forming a Volume in the "International Education" Series. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. 6d. 
 
 Journal of Education. " The reader will rise from the study of this 
 brilliant and stimulating book, with a sense of gratitude to M. Fouillee 
 for the forcible manner in which the difficulties we must all have felt are 
 stated, and for his admirable endeavours to construct a workable scheme 
 of secondary education." 
 
 The Infant Mind; or, Mental Development in the 
 Child. 
 
 Translated from the German of W. PREYER, Professor of Physiology 
 in the University of Jena. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. 6d. 
 
 Educational Keview. " Noteworthy as being the first attempt made by 
 a scientific man to initiate the average unscientific reader into the methods 
 of psychological observation." 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette. "The theoretical parts are reasonable and in- 
 telligible, and the practical suggestions are very good." 
 
 Leeds Mercury. u An excellent little work, which can be studied with 
 advantage by mothers and all interrested in the development of the 
 young." 
 
 English Education in the Elementary and Secondary 
 
 Schools. 
 
 By ISAAC SHARPLESS, LL.D., President of Haverford College, 
 U.S.A. A Volume in the "International Education" Series. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 4s. 6d. 
 
 Guardian. " The book is a sober presentment of honest opinion 
 T eminently readable, and to be recommended as a useful elementary 
 history of English Education for young teachers." 
 
 Educational Times. "The whole of the chapter 'The Training of 
 Teachers * is excellent. Excellent, too, is the chapter on the great 
 public schools full of keen observation and sound good sense. Indeed, 
 the whole of the book is as refreshing as a draught of clear spring water." 
 
60 MR. EDWARD ARNOLD'S 
 
 Emile; or, a Treatise on Education. 
 
 By JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU. Translated and Edited by W. H. 
 PAYNE, Ph.D., LL.D., President of the Peabody Normal College, 
 U.S.A. A Volume in the " International Education" Series. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 
 
 The Education of the Greek People. 
 
 By THOMAS DAVIDSON, Editor of " Scartazzini's Hand-book to 
 Dante," etc. A Volume in the " International Education " Series. 
 Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 
 
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EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 61 
 
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62 
 
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EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 63 
 
 The Analytical Drawing Sheets. 
 
 By W. H. HOWARTH, Certificated Art Master under the Science and 
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 GENERAL EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE. 
 
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 ILLUSTRATED LIST OF PRIZE BOOKS. 
 
 WORKS OF GENERAL LITERATURE. 
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 LIST OF AMERICAN PERIODICALS WITH 
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 CATALOGUE OF INDIA OFFICE 
 PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 CATALOGUE OF INDIA OFFICE MAPS. 
 
Some Recent and Forthcoming Publications, 
 
 AGLEN: Lessons in Old Testament History 
 
 ARNOLD'S Books and Cards for Teaching Compo- 
 
 sition 
 
 ARNOLD'S School Shakespeare 
 
 ARNOLD'S British Classics for Schools 
 
 BALDWIN : Inflections and Syntax of Mallory's Morte 
 
 d'Arthur 
 
 BELL (MRS. HUGH) : French without Tears 
 Kleines Hans Theater 
 
 BENNETT: Tacitus, Dialogus de Oratoribus 
 
 BUTLER: Select Essays of Sainte Beuve ... 
 
 COLLAR AND DANIELL: First Latin Book 
 FRYE: Primary Geography 
 
 Complete Geography 
 
 GARDINER: First Latin Course 
 GLEASON : Gate to the Anabasis ... 
 
 GUMMERE: Old English Ballads 
 
 HOWARTH AND LANGMAx : Analytical Drawing Sheets ... 
 LACHLAN: The Elements of Euclid 
 
 The Elements of Algebra ... ... 
 
 LEUNB: Difficult Modern French 
 
 LUMSDEN: Lessons in German 
 MUSGRAVE: French Dramatic Scenes 
 German Dramatic Scenes 
 
 OMAN: History of England 
 
 SCHELLING: Elizabethan Lyrics 
 TABVER: Dumas' Vingt Ans Apres 
 
 TATHAM : Caesar: Gallic War, Books III.-V. 
 
 EDWARD ARNOLD, ^ublisfjer to tlje Bnfcia 
 LONDON: 37, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C. 
 NEW YORK: 70, FIFTH AYENUE. 
 
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 Return to desk from which borrowed. 
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