POWER AS RELATED TO KNOWLEDGE.

POWER AS RELATED TO KNOWLEDGE.

Try to imagine a material world without force—no cohesion, no resistance, no gravitation, no sound, no light, no sign from the outward world, no active mind to receive a sign. Now try to imagine knowledge without power, a mind that is but a photographic sheet—no active perception, no imagination, no reflection upon ideas, no impulses ending in action. On the other hand, mental power without knowledge is inconceivable. One without knowledge is in the condition of the newly born infant.

As difficult to understand as the relation between matter and force, between spirit and body, between thought and its sign, is the relation between knowledge and power. In a way we may attempt to separate and distinguish between them, by a process of emphasizing the one or the other. Knowledge, in the sense of information, means an acquaintance with nature in its infinite variety of kind, form, and color, and with man in history and literature; mental power is the ability to gain knowledge, and the motive to use it for growth and for valuable ends. Mere knowledge serenely contemplates nature and history as a panorama, without serious reflection or effort. Power is able to reflect upon knowledge, and to find motives for progress and useful action. Knowledge is the product of the information method; power, of the method of self-activity.

As we cannot divorce matter and force, so it appears we cannot clearly separate knowledge and mental power; the distinction is artificial and almost fanciful. The one cannot exist without the other; they are the opposite sides of the shield. Through knowledge comes power. Knowledge is the material for reflection and action. Knowledge, as it were, creates the mind, and is both the source of power and the occasion for its use.

We recall the familiar caricature of the Chinese lack of original power. A merchant negotiated with a Chinaman for the manufacture of a few thousand plates of a certain pattern, and furnished a sample that by chance was cracked. The plates arrived in due season, admirably imitating the original—and every one was cracked. No need in this instance to employ the mandate given by a choleric superintendent to an employee, who on one occasion thought for himself—“I have told you repeatedly you have no business to think!” The Chinese character may be expressed by a parody on a familiar stanza:

For they are the same their fathers have been;They see the same sights their fathers have seen,They drink the same stream and view the same sun,And run the same course their fathers have run.

For they are the same their fathers have been;They see the same sights their fathers have seen,They drink the same stream and view the same sun,And run the same course their fathers have run.

For they are the same their fathers have been;They see the same sights their fathers have seen,They drink the same stream and view the same sun,And run the same course their fathers have run.

For they are the same their fathers have been;

They see the same sights their fathers have seen,

They drink the same stream and view the same sun,

And run the same course their fathers have run.

A timorous cow gazing wistfully over the garden gate at the forbidden succulent vegetables, and nervously rubbing her nose by accident against the latch, may open the gate and gain an entrance, and afterward repeat the process. A new and peculiar fastening will prevent any further depredations. An ingenious boy will find the means to undo any kindof unique fastening to the gate that bars him from the watermelon patch. Charles Lamb humorously describes how the Chinese learned to eat roast pig. A house burned and the family pig perished in the flames; a disconsolate group of people stood around viewing the ruins, when by accident one touched the pig and, burning his finger, thrust it in his mouth to cool it; the taste was good, and he repeated the process. Soon there were marvellously frequent conflagrations—all the neighbors burned their houses to roast their pigs, that being the only method they had learned.

From these somewhat trivial illustrations, we may readily draw a few inferences: First, ingenuity of mind for novel conditions distinguishes man from the brutes; second, the Chinese method of education emphasizes too much the information side—it is not good; third, the human mind is ingenious when it is rightly educated and has a strong motive; fourth, ingenuity is the power that should grow from education. In this idea—ingenuity of mind—is the very essence of what we mean when we emphasize the power side of the soul.

The problem of education is to make men think. Tradition, authority, formalism have not the place in education which they formerly occupied. May it not be that we have so analyzed and formulated the work of the schools that formalism and method have somewhat taken the place of genuine work, full of the life and spirit that make power? We may discover that the criticisms from certain high sources have an element of truth in them. A certain routine may easily become a sacred code, a law of the tables, and any variation therefrom an impiety.

A person possesses power when his conception ploughs through the unfurrowed tissue of his brain to seek its proper affinity, and unites with it to form a correct judgment. A person who is merely instructed does not construct new lines of thought to bring ideas into novel relations; he does not originate or progress. An original thinker masses all congruous ideas around a dimly conceived notion and there is a new birth of an idea, a genuine child of the brain. His ingenuity will open a gate or construct a philosophical system.

Every student remembers well the stages in his education when there was a new awakening by methods that invited thought, when a power was gained to conceive and do something not stated in the books or imparted by the teacher. In the schools, even of to-day, teachers are not always found who can impart elementary science in the spirit of science, who can successfully invite speculation as to causes, who can teach accurate perception, who can interpret events in history, train pupils in the use of reference books, or invite original thought in mathematics. There is no high school which does not yearly receive pupils not trained in original power, no college which does not annually winnow out freshmen, because they have not gained the power to grapple with virile methods. The defect is sometimes innate, but it is oftener due to false methods of instruction. Our great problem is to make scholars who are not hopeless and helpless in the presence of what they have not learned.

The plant must have good soil, water and air and sun, care and pruning, in order to grow, but it grows of itself, gains strength by proper nourishment. Theaggregation of material about the plant does not constitute its growth. The plant must assimilate; the juices of life must flow through it.

The teacher does his best work when he makes all conditions favorable for the self-activity of the pupil. Such conditions create a lively interest in the objects and forces of nature, invite examination of facts and discovery of relations, arouse the imagination to conceive results, awaken query and reflection, stimulate the emotional life toward worthy and energetic action, and make the pupil ever progressive.

An article in one of our magazines strongly emphasizes the methods that make power. It considers the kind of training that finally makes accurate thinkers, that makes original, progressive men, men of power, and safe and wise citizens. The author shows that clear observation, accurate recording of facts, just inference, and strong, choice expression are most important ends to be attained by the work of the schools, and that these ends become the means for correcting all sorts of unjust, illogical conclusions as to politics and morals.

There is much profound thought in the view maintained. Unjust inferences, fallacies, are nearly the sum of the world’s social and political evils. False ideas are held as true concerning all sorts of current problems—notions that take possession of men’s minds without logical reflection. The fallacy of confounding sequence with cause is almost universal. All kinds of subjective and objective duties suffer from illogical minds.

To correct many errors and evils, to make thinking, useful men, we must emphasize the processesrecommended: (1) observation, (2) faithful recording, (3) just inference, (4) satisfactory expression.

The author shows wherein the work of the grades fails to give the desired results. He holds that arithmetic, so emphasized, contributes nothing because it employs necessary reasoning, and does not give practice in inference from observation and experience, a process which develops scientific judgment. Inductive reasoning alone can give scientific power. Reading, writing, spelling, geography as usually taught, contribute but little; grammar does not add much.

For invention, for correct estimates of the problems of society, government, and morals, the original power of inference from observed facts is necessary. It is asked: Do our schools give this power to a satisfactory and attainable degree? It is claimed in the article that the high schools and colleges fail more or less, because so much time is given to memory work and formulated results. In the high schools the work to be most emphasized is not chosen with discrimination. The courses include too many studies, not well done. There should be fewer studies so pursued as to give power.

May it not be well to make the inquiry in all grades as to what proportion of the work contributes toward the final result of accurate reflection upon the world of facts. Let us again repeat the author’s list in logical order: (1) observation, (2) recording, as in noting experiments, (3) inference, (4) expression.

President Eliot’s paper here referred to admirably emphasizes the methods that make power. Perhaps the author gives too little importance to knowledge as the basis of power, and fails to emphasize theæsthetic power and the value of ideals. It is true that poetry implies accurate observation, fine discrimination, discovery of just relations, and true insight, but it is equally true that science study does not make poets.

The times have changed. The old idea of the scholar was of one who, in the serene contemplation of truth, beauty, and goodness, found a never-failing source of delight for himself, and felt little obligation to the world that sustained him, or the social environment that nurtured and humanized him. The devotion to truth for its own sake, the love of nature in repose, the admiration of great deeds, fine sentiments and noble thoughts, were for him sufficient, as if he were isolated in a world of his own. We do not depreciate such interest, for life is worth nothing without it. But there is a demand for action, a call to externalize the power of one’s being. Each man is a part of the all, from eternity destined to be a factor in the progress of all. The thoughts and impulses that evaporate and accomplish nothing are not of much more value to the individual than to his neighbor. “Do something” is the command alike of religion and of the nature of our physical being. Every sentiment and idea that leads to action forms a habit in the mysterious inner chambers of our nervous system for action, and we gain in power, grow in mental stature, day by day.

Power comes through knowledge. There may be too great a tendency to emphasize power to the loss of that knowledge necessary to marshal in one field of view the necessary facts. Imagine a judge tryingto reach a decision without the points in evidence before his mind; a statesman that would interpret current events without a knowledge of history; an investigator in science who had not before him the results of the investigations of others.

Ideally, knowledge should be varied and comprehensive; it should cover, at least in an elementary way, the entire field of nature and of man. Then only is the student best prepared for his life work, if he would make the most of it. A man lost in a forest directs not his steps wisely; when thoroughly acquainted with his surroundings, he moves forward with confidence. One who has trained all the muscles of his body delivers a blow with vigor. One who has trained all the powers of his mind summons to his aid the energy of all, when he acts in a given direction. His knowledge is the light thrown on his endeavor.

This view is opposed to the extreme doctrine that knowledge is of little value. Knowledge is necessary to power; the abuse lies in not making it the basis of power.

This theory also militates strongly against the position that a student should specialize at too early a period, before he has traversed in an elementary way the circle of studies and gained a harmonized general development.

The discussion of a growing fallacy naturally appears in this place, that it makes no difference what knowledge is used provided it gives power. It does make a difference whether one gains power in deciphering an ancient inscription in hieroglyphics, or gains it by studying a language which contains the generic concepts of our native tongue, or in pursuinga scientific study which acquaints him with the laws of nature’s forces. In the one case, while the power is great, the knowledge is small; in the other, an essential view of the thought of mankind or of the nature of the world in which we live is gained, and the knowledge is broadly useful for various exercise of power.

Another fallacy is the doctrine that actual execution in practical ways alone gives power. It may give ready specific power of a limited kind, but it may leave the man childlike and helpless in the presence of anything but his specialty.

Here we find an argument for higher education, for an accumulation of knowledge and power that comes through prolonged labor in the field of learning, under wise guidance and through self-effort. Many a youth, through limited capacity, limited time and means, must begin special education before he has laid a broad foundation, but this is not the ideal method. The true teacher will always hold the highest ideals before the pupils, will guide them in the path of general education, until that education becomes what is called liberal. The broad-minded men who conduct schools for special education are strong advocates of the highest degree of general training as a foundation.

Four years of college life, with the methods of to-day, more than quadruple the capital of the graduate of the secondary school. They broaden the field of knowledge, and enlarge the capacity for doing. The world is full of demands for men of knowledge and power. There is to-day a lack of men sufficiently equipped in knowledge, power, and character to take the direction, for instance, of important college departments.Men of power and skill are in demand everywhere, and not enough can be found for responsible positions. One half the fault is insufficient education.

There is another phase of power that must not be neglected, the power to enjoy, to be rich in emotional life. Knowledge, properly pursued, is a source of rich and refined intellectual emotions. There is joy in discovery, joy in the freedom and grasp of thought.

Æsthetic power, based upon fine discrimination, finds a perpetual joy in sky and sea, and mountain and forest, in music and poetry, in sentiment and song. Our Teutonic ancestors were better seers than we. The morning sun and the midnight darkness were perpetually to them a new birth. The leaves whispered to them divine messages; the storms and the seasons, the fruitful earth, were full of wonder and sacred mysteries. They were poets. This matter-of-fact age will yet return to the primitive regard for nature, a regard enlightened and refined by science. Men will yet find in the most commonplace fact of nature mystery, poetry, ground for reverence, and faith in a God.

The power of enjoyment alone does not give a fruitful life. It is in the moment of action that we gain the habit that makes power for action. As a philosopher recently expressed it: Do not allow your finer emotions to evaporate without finding expression in some useful act, if it is nothing but speaking kindly to your grandmother, or giving up your seat in a horse car.

There has been a weak and harmful philosophy invogue for years that would place the natural and the useful in the line of the agreeable. Even extreme evolution fails signally to show that the agreeable is always teleological, that is, always directed toward useful ends. The latest teaching of physiological psychology takes us back to the stern philosophy of the self-denying Puritan, and shows that we must conquer our habitual inclinations, and encounter some disagreeable duty every day to prepare for the emergencies that demand men of stern stuff. George Eliot proclaims the same thought with philosophical insight, that we are not to wait for great opportunities for glory, but by daily, drudging performance of little duties are to get ready for the arrival of the great opportunities. We must prepare for our eagle flights by many feeble attempts of our untried pinions.

If one but work, no matter in what line of higher scholastic pursuit, he will in a few years waken to a consciousness of power that makes him one of the leaders. There is every encouragement to the student to persevere, in the certain assurance that sooner or later he will reach attainments beyond his present clear conception.

Our inheritance is a glorious one. The character of the Anglo-Saxons is seen throughout their history. Amid the clash of weapons they fought with a fierce energy and a strange delight. They rode the mighty billows and sang heroic songs with the wild joy of the sea fowl. Later we find them contending earnestly for their beliefs. Then they grew into the Puritan sternness of character, abounding in the sense of duty. Their character has made them the leaders and conquerors of the world. It finds expressionin the progress and influence of America. This energy has gradually become more and more refined and humanized, and, in its highest and best form, it is the heritage of every young man; and by the pride of ancestry, by the character inherited, by the opportunity of his age, he is called upon to wield strongly the weapon of Thor and hammer out his destiny with strong heart and earnest purpose.


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