Air pressure holds this card to the glass,Air pressure keeps the water in the tube,Air pressure holds together the leather and the stone,∴ Air exerts pressure.
Air pressure holds this card to the glass,Air pressure keeps the water in the tube,Air pressure holds together the leather and the stone,∴ Air exerts pressure.
How Distinguished from, A. Deduction, and B. Conception.—Such a process as the above constitutes a process of reasoning, first, because the conclusion gives a new affirmation, or judgment, "Air exerts pressure," and secondly, because the judgment is supposed to be arrived at by comparing other judgments. As a process of reasoning, however, it differs from deduction in that the final judgment is a general judgment, or truth, which seems to be based upon a number of particular judgments obtained from actual experience, while in deduction the conclusion was particular and the major premise general. It is for this reason that induction is defined as a process of going from the particular to the general. Moreover, since induction leads to the formation of a universal judgment, or general truth, it differs from the generalizing process known asconception, which leads to the formation of a concept, or general idea. It is evident, however, that the process will enrich the concept involved in the new judgment. When the mind is able to affirm that air exerts pressure, the property, exerting-pressure, is at once synthesised into the notion air. This point will again be referred to in comparing induction and conception as generalizing processes.
In speaking of induction as a process of going from the particular to the general, this does not signify that the process deals with individual notions. The particulars in an inductive process are particular cases giving rise to particular judgments, and judgments involve concepts, or general ideas. When, in the inductive process, it is asserted that air holds the card to the glass, the mind is seeking to establish a relation between the notions air and pressure, and is, therefore, thinking in concepts. For this reason, it is usually said that induction takes for granted ordinary relations as involved in our everyday concepts, and concerns itself only with the more hidden relations of things. The significance of induction as a process of going from the particular to the general, therefore, consists in the fact that the conclusion is held to be a wider judgment than is contained in any of the premises.
Particular Truth Implies the General.—Describing the premises of an inductive process as particular truths, and the conclusion as a universal truth, however, involves the same fiction as was noted in separating the percept and the concept into two distinct types of notions. In the first place, my particular judgment, that air presses the card against the glass, is itself a deduction resting upon other general principles. Secondly, if the judgment that air presses the card against the glass contains no element of universal truth, then a thousand such judgments couldgive no universal truth. Moreover, if the mind approaches a process of induction with a problem, or hypothesis, before it, the general truth is already apprehended hypothetically in thought even before the particular instances are examined. When we set out, for instance, to investigate whether the line joining the bisecting points of the sides of a triangle is parallel with the base, we have accepted hypothetically the general principle that such lines are parallel with the base. The fact is, therefore, that when the mind examines the particular case and finds it to agree with the hypothesis, so far as it accepts this case as a truth, it also accepts it as a universal truth. Although, therefore, induction may involve going from one particular experiment or observation to another, it is in a sense a process of going from the general to the general.
That accepting the truth of a particular judgment may imply a universal judgment is very evident in the case of geometrical demonstrations. When it is shown, for instance, that in the case of the particular isosceles triangle ABC, the angles at the base are equal, the mind does not require to examine other particular triangles for verification, but at once asserts that in every isosceles triangle the angles at the base are equal.
Induction and Conception Interrelated.—Although as a process, induction is to be distinguished from conception, it either leads to an enriching of some concept, or may in fact be the only means by which certain scientific concepts are formed. While the images obtained by ordinary sense perception will enable a child to gain a notion of water, to add to the notion the property, boiling-at-a-certain-temperature, or able-to-be-converted-into-two-parts-hydrogen-and-one-part-oxygen, will demand a process ofinduction. The development of such scientific notions as oxide, equation, predicate adjective, etc., is also dependent upon a regular inductive process. For this reason many lessons may be viewed both as conceptual and as inductive lessons. To teach the adverb implies a conceptual process, because the child must synthesise certain attributes into his notion adverb. It is also an inductive lesson, because these attributes being formulated as definite judgments are, therefore, obtained inductively. The double character of such a lesson is fully indicated by the two results obtained. The lesson ends with the acquisition of a new term, adverb, which represents the result of the conceptual process. It also ends with the definition: "An adverb is a word which modifies a verb, adjective, or other adverb," which indicates the general truth or truths resulting from the inductive process.
Deduction and Induction Interrelated.—In our actual teaching processes there is a very close inter-relation between the two processes of reasoning. We have already noted on page322that, in such inductive lessons as teaching the definition of a noun or the rule for the addition of fractions, both the preparatory step and the application involve deduction. It is to be noted further, however, that even in the development of an inductive lesson there is a continual interplay between induction and deduction. This will be readily seen in the case of a pupil seeking to discover the rule for determining the number of repeaters in the addition of recurring decimals. When he notes that adding three numbers with one, one, and two repeaters respectively, gives him two repeaters in his answer, he is more than likely to infer that the rule is to have in the answer the highest number found among the addenda. So far as he makes this inference, he undoubtedly will applyit in interpreting the next problem, and if the next numbers have one, one, and three repeaters respectively, he will likely be quite convinced that his former inference is correct. When, however, he meets a question with one, two, and three repeaters respectively, he finds his former inference is incorrect, and may, thereupon, draw a new inference, which he will now proceed to apply to further examples. The general fact to be noted here, however, is that, so far as the mind during the examination of the particular examples reaches any conclusion in an inductive lesson, it evidently applies this conclusion to some degree in the study of the further examples, or thinks deductively, even during the inductive process.
Development of Reasoning Power.—Since reasoning is essentially a purposive form of thinking, it is evident that any reasoning process will depend largely upon the presence of some problem which shall stimulate the mind to seek out relations necessary to its solution. Power to reason, therefore, is conditioned by the ability to attend voluntarily to the problem and discover the necessary relations. It is further evident that the accuracy of any reasoning process must be dependent upon the accuracy of the judgments upon which the conclusions are based. But these judgments in turn depend for their accuracy upon the accuracy of the concepts involved. Correct reasoning, therefore, must depend largely upon the accuracy of our concepts, or, in other words, upon the old knowledge at our command. On the other hand, however, it has been seen that both deductive and inductive reasoning follow to some degree a systematic form. For this reason it may be assumed that the practice of these forms should have some effect in giving control of the processes. The child, for instance, who habituates himself to such thought processesas AB equals BC, and AC equals BC, therefore AB equals AC, no doubt becomes able thereby to grasp such relations more easily. Granting so much, however, it is still evident that close attention to, and accurate knowledge of, the various terms involved in the reasoning process is the sure foundation of correct reasoning.
Sensuous and Ideal Feeling.—We have noted (Chapter XXIV), that in addition to the general feeling tone accompanying an act of attention, and already described as a feeling of interest, there are two important classes of feeling known respectively as sensuous and ideal feeling. When a person says: "I feel tired" or "I feel hungry," he is referring to the feeling side of certain organic sensations. When he says: "The air feels cold" or "The paper feels smooth," he is referring to the feeling side of temperature and touch sensations. These are, therefore, examples of sensuous feeling. On the other hand, to say "I feel angry" or "I feel afraid," is to refer to a feeling state which accompanies perhaps the perception of some object, the recollection or anticipation of some act, or the inference that something is sure to happen, etc. These latter states are therefore known as ideal feelings.
Quality of Feeling States.—The qualities of our various feeling states are distinguished under two heads, pleasure and pain. It might seem at first sight that our feeling states will fall into a much larger number of classes distinguished by differences in quality, or tone. The taste of an orange, the smell of lavender, the touch of a hot stove, the appreciation of a fine piece of music, and the appreciation of a lofty poem, seem at first sight to yield different feelings. The supposed difference in the quality of the feelings is due, however, to a difference in the knowledge elements accompanying the feelings, or to the fact thatthey are discriminated as different experiences. The idea of the music or the poem is of a higher grade than the sensory image of taste, and accordingly the feelingsappearto be different. The feelings may, of course, differ in intensity, but inqualitythey are either pleasant or unpleasant.
A. Neural.—The quality, or tone, of a feeling will vary according to the intensity of the impression. Great heat stimulates the nerves violently and the resultant feeling state is painful; warmth gives a moderate stimulation and the resultant tone is pleasant. Excessive cold also, because it stimulates violently, produces a painful feeling. Since the intensity of a stimulus varies according to the resistance encountered in the nervous arc, the quality of a feeling state must, therefore, vary according to the resistance. It is for this reason that an experience, at first very painful, may lose much of its tone by repetition. By repetition the nerve centres are adapted to the experience, resistance is lessened, and the accompanying pain diminished. In this way, some work or exercise, which is at first positively unpleasant, may at least become endurable as the organism becomes adapted to the occupation. From this point of view, it is sometimes said that any impressions to which we are perfectly adapted give pleasurable feelings, while, in other cases the resultant tone will be painful.
B. Mental.—The law of perfect adaptation also explains why ideal feelings may at one time result in a pleasant, and at another time in a painful, feeling tone. According to the principle of apperception, the new experience must organize itself with whatever thoughts and feelings are now occupying consciousness. It necessarilyhappens that a given experience does not always equally harmonize with our present thoughts and feelings. The recognition of a friend under ordinary circumstances is agreeable, but amid certain associations or in a certain environment, such recognition would be disagreeable. So, too, while an original experience may have been agreeable, the memory of it may now be disagreeable; and vice versa. For instance, the memory of a former success or prosperity may, in the midst of present failure and poverty, be disagreeable; while the recollection of former failure and defeat may now, in the midst of success and prosperity, be agreeable. What is it that makes a sensation, a perception, a memory, or an apprehended relation pleasant under some circumstances and unpleasant under others? The rule appears to be that when the experience harmonizes with our present train of thought, when it promotes our present interests and intentions, it is pleasant; but when, on the other hand, it does not harmonize with our train of thought or thwarts or impedes our interests and purposes, it is unpleasant.
Function of Pleasure and Pain.—From what has been noted concerning co-ordination between the adaptation of the organism to impression and the quality of the accompanying feeling, it is evident that pleasure and pain each have their part to play in promoting the ultimate good of the individual. Pain is beneficial, because it lets us know that there is some misadjustment to our environment, and thereby warns us to remove or cease doing what is proving injurious. In this connection, it may be noted that no disease is so dangerous as one that fails to make its presence known through pain. Pleasure also is valuable in so far as it results from perfect adaptation to a perfect environment, since it induces the individual to continue beneficial acts. It must be remembered, however, that so far as heredity or education has adapted our organism to improper stimuli, pleasure is no proof that the good of the organism is being advanced. In such cases, redemption can come to the fallen world only through suffering.
Feeling and Knowing.—Since the intensity of a feeling state is conditioned by the amount of resistance, an intense state of feeling is likely to be accompanied by a lowering of intellectual activity. For this reason excessive hunger, heat or cold, intense joy, anger or sorrow, are usually antagonistic to intellectual work. The explanation for this seems to be that so much of our nervous energy is consumed in overcoming the resistance in the centres affected, that little is left for ordinary intellectual processes. This does not, of course, imply that no one can do intellectual work under such conditions; nor that the intellectual man is always devoid of strong feelings, although such is often the case. Occasionally, however, a man is so strongly endowed with nervous energy, that even after overcoming the resistance being encountered, he still has a residue of energy to devote to ordinary intellectual processes.
Feeling and Will.—Although, as pointed out in the last paragraph, there is a certain antagonism between knowing and feeling, it has also been seen that every experience has its knowing as well as its feeling side. Because of this co-ordination, the qualities of our feeling states become known to us, or are able to be distinguished by the mind. As a result of this recognition of a difference in our feeling states, we learn to seek states of pleasure and to avoid states of pain or, in other words, our mere states of feeling become desires. This means that we become able to contrast a present feeling with other remembered states,and seek either to continue the present desired state or to substitute another for the present undesirable feeling. In the form of desire, therefore, our feelings become strong motives, which may influence the will to certain lines of action.
While the sensations of the special senses, namely, sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell, have each their affective, or feeling, side, a minute study of these feelings is not necessary for our present purpose. It may be noted, however, that in the more intellectual senses, namely, sight, hearing, and touch, feeling tone is less marked, although strong feeling may accompany certain tactile sensations. In the lower senses of taste and smell, the feeling tone is more pronounced. Under muscular sensation we meet such marked feeling tones as fatigue, exertion, and strain, while associated with the organic sensations are such feelings as hunger and thirst, and the various pains which usually accompany derangement and disease of the bodily organs. Some of these feelings are important, because they are likely to influence the will by developing into desires in the form of appetites. Many sensuous feelings are important also because they especially warn the mind regarding the condition of the organism.
Nature of Emotion.—An emotion differs from sensuous feeling, not in its content, but in its higher intensity, its greater complexity, and its more elaborate motor response. It may be defined as a succession of interconnected feelings with a more complex physical expression than a simple feeling. On reading an account of a battle, one may feel sad and express this sadness only in a gloomyappearance of the face. But if one finds that in this battle a friend has been killed, the feeling is much intensified and may become an emotion of grief, expressing itself in some complex way, perhaps in tears, in sobbing, in wringing the hands. Similarly, a feeling of slight irritation expressed in a frowning face, if intensified, becomes the emotion of anger, expressed in tense muscles, rapidly beating heart, laboured breathing, perhaps a torrent of words or a hasty blow.
Emotion and Instinct.—Feeling and instinct are closely related. Every instinct has its affective phase, that is, its satisfaction always involves an element of pleasure or pain. The satisfaction of the instincts of curiosity or physical activity illustrates this fact. On the other hand, every emotion has its characteristic instinctive response. Fear expresses itself in all persons alike in certain characteristic ways inherited from a remote ancestry; anger expresses itself in other instinctive reactions; grief in still others.
An analysis of a typical emotion will serve to show the conditions under which it makes its appearance. Let us take first the emotion of fear. Suppose a person is walking alone on a dark night along a deserted street. His nervous currents are discharging themselves uninterruptedly over their wonted channels, his current of thought is unimpeded. Suddenly there appears a strange and frightful object in his pathway. His train of thought is violently checked. His nervous currents, which a moment ago were passing out smoothly and without undue resistance into muscles of legs, arms, body, and face, are now suddenly obstructed, or in other words encounterviolent resistance. He stands still. His heart momentarily stops beating. A temporary paralysis seizes him. As the nervous currents thus encounter resistance, the feeling tone known as fear is experienced. At the same time the currents burst their barriers and overflow into new channels that are easy of access, the motor centres being especially of this character. Some of the currents, therefore, run to the involuntary muscles, and in consequence the heart beats faster, the breathing becomes heavier, the face grows pale, a cold sweat breaks forth, the hair "stands on end." Other currents, through hereditary influences, pass to the voluntary muscles, and the person shrieks, and turns and flees.
Or take the emotion of anger. Some fine morning in school everything is in good order, everybody is industriously at work, the lessons are proceeding satisfactorily. The current of the teacher's experience is flowing smoothly and unobstructedly. Presently a troublesome boy, who has been repeatedly reproved for misconduct, again shows symptoms of idleness and misbehaviour. The smooth current of experience being checked, here also both a new feeling tone is experienced and the wonted nerve currents flow out into other brain centres. The teacher stops his work and gazes fixedly at the offending pupil. His heart beats rapidly, the blood surges to his face, his breathing becomes heavy, his muscles grow tense. In these reactions we have the nervous currents passing out over involuntary channels. Then, perhaps, the teacher unfortunately breaks forth into a torrent of words or lays violent hands upon the offender. Here the nervous currents are passing outward over the voluntary system.
These illustrations indicate that three important conditions are present at the appearance of the emotion,namely, (1) the presence of an unusual object in consciousness, (2) the consequent disturbance of the smooth flow of experience or, in physiological terms, the temporary obstruction of the ordinary pathways of nervous discharge through the great resistance encountered, and (3) the new feeling state with its concomitant overflow of the impulses into new motor channels, some of which lead to the involuntary muscles and others to the voluntary. The emotion proper consists in the feeling state which arises as a result of the resistance encountered by the nervous impulses as the smooth flow of experience is checked. The idea that I shall die some day arouses no emotion in me, because it in no way affects my ordinary thought processes, and therefore it in no way disturbs my nervous equilibrium. The perception of a wild animal about to kill me, because it suddenly thwarts and impedes the smooth flow of my experience through a suggestion of danger, produces an intense feeling and a diffused and intense derangement of the nervous equilibrium.
Development of Emotions.—The question of paramount importance in connection with emotion is how to arouse and develop desirable emotions. The close connection of the three phases of the mind's manifestation—knowing, feeling, and willing, gives the key to the question. Feeling cannot be developed alone apart from knowing and willing. In fact, if we attend carefully to the knowing and willing activities, the feelings, in one sense, take care of themselves. Two principles, therefore, lie at the basis of proper emotional development:
1. The mind must be allowed to dwell upon only those ideas to which worthy emotions are attached. We must refuse to think those thoughts that are tinged with unworthy feelings. The Apostle Paul has expressed this veryeloquently when he says in his Epistle to the Philippians: "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."
2. The teacher's main duty in the above regard is to provide the pupil with a rich fund of ideas to which desirable feelings cling. An impressive manner, an enthusiastic attitude toward subjects of study, an evident interest in them, and apparent appreciation of them, will also aid much in inspiring pupils with proper feelings, for feelings are often contagious in the absence of very definite ideas. How often have we been deeply moved by hearing a poem impressively read even though we have very imperfectly grasped its meaning. The feelings of the reader have been communicated to us through the principle of contagion. Similarly, in history, art, and nature study, emotions may be stirred, not only through the medium of the ideas presented, but also by the impressiveness, the enthusiasm, and the interest exhibited by the teacher in presenting them.
3. We must give expression to these emotions we wish to develop. Expression means the probability of the recurrence of the emotion, and gradually an emotional habit is formed. An unselfish disposition is cultivated by performing little acts of kindness and self-denial whenever the opportunity offers. The expression of a desirable emotion, moreover, should not stop merely with an experience of the organic sensations or the reflex reactions accompanying the emotion. To listen to a sermon and react only by an emotional thrill, a quickened heart beat, or a few tears, is a very ineffective kind of expression.The only kind of emotional expression that is of much consequence either to ourselves or others is conduct. Only in so far as our emotional experiences issue in action that is beneficial to those about us, are they of any practical value.
Elimination of Emotions.—Since certain of our emotions, such as anger and fear, are, in general, undesirable states of feeling, a question arises how such emotions may be prevented. It is sometimes said that, if we can inhibit the expression, the emotion will disappear, that is, if I can prevent the trembling, I will cease to be afraid. From what has just been learned, however, the emotion and its expression being really concomitant results of the antecedent obstruction of ordinary nervous discharges, emotion cannot be checked by checking the expression, but both will be checked if the nervous impulses can be made to continue in their wonted courses in spite of the disturbing presentations. The real secret of emotional control lies, therefore, in the power of voluntary attention. The effect of attention is to cause the nervous energy to be directed without undue resistance into its wonted channels, this, in turn, preventing its overflow into new channels. By thus directing the energy into wonted and open channels, attention prevents both the movements and the feeling that are concomitants of a disturbance of nervous equilibrium. By meeting the attack of the dog in a purposeful and attentive manner, we cause the otherwise damming-up nervous energy to continue flowing into ordinary channels, and in this way prevent both the feeling of fear and also the flow of the energy into the motor centres associated with the particular emotion. But while it is not scientifically correct in a particular case to say that we may inhibit the feeling by inhibiting the movements, it is of course true that, by avoiding a present emotional outburst, we are less likely in the future to respond to situations which tend to arouse the emotional state. On the other hand, to give way frequently to any emotional state will make it more difficult to avoid yielding to the emotion under similar conditions.
Mood.—Our feelings and emotions become organized and developed in various ways. The sum total of all the feeling tones of our sensory and ideational processes at any particular time gives us ourmoodat that time. If, for instance, our organic sensations are prevailingly pleasant, if the ideas we dwell upon are tinged with agreeable feeling, our mood is cheerful. We can to a large extent control our current of thought, and can as we will, except in case of serious bodily disturbances, attend, or not attend, to our organic sensations. Consequently we are ourselves largely responsible for the moods we indulge.
Disposition.—A particular kind of mood frequently indulged in produces a type of emotional habit, ourdisposition. For instance, the teacher who permits the occurrences of the class-room to trouble him unnecessarily, and who broods over these afterwards, soon develops a worrying disposition. As we have it in our power to determine what habits, emotional and otherwise, we form, we alone are responsible for the dispositions we cultivate.
Temperament.—Some of us are provided with nervous systems that are predisposed to particular moods. This predisposition, together with frequent indulgence in particular types of mood, gives us ourtemperament. The responsibility for this we share with our ancestors, but,even though predisposed through heredity to unfortunate moods, we can ourselves decide whether we shall give way to them. Temperaments have been classified assanguine,melancholic,choleric, andphlegmatic. The sanguine type is inclined to look on the bright side of things, to be optimistic; the melancholic tends to moodiness and gloom; the choleric is easily irritated, quick to anger; the phlegmatic is not easily aroused to emotion, is cold and sluggish. An individual seldom belongs exclusively to one type.
Sentiments.—Certain emotional tendencies become organized about an object and constitute asentiment. The sentiment of love for our mother had its basis in our childhood in the perception of her as the source of numberless experiences involving pleasant feeling tones. As we grew older, we understood better her solicitude for our welfare and her sacrifices for our sake—further experiences involving a large feeling element. Thus there grew up about our mother an organized system of emotional tendencies, our sentiment of filial love. Such sentiments as patriotism, religious faith, selfishness, sympathy, arise and develop in the same way. Compared with moods, sentiments are more permanent in character and involve more complex knowledge elements. Moreover, they do not depend upon physiological conditions as do moods. One's organic sensations may affect one's mood to a considerable extent, but will scarcely influence one's patriotism or filial love.
Types of Movement.—Closely associated with the problem of voluntary attention is that of voluntary movement, or control of action. It is an evident fact that the infant can at first exercise no conscious control over his bodily movements. He has, it is true, certain reflex and instinctive tendencies which enable him to react in a definite way to certain special stimuli. In such cases, however, there is no conscious control of the movements, the bodily organs merely responding in a definite way whenever the proper stimulus is present. The eye, for instance, must wink when any foreign matter affects it; wry movements of the face must accompany the bitter taste; and the body must start at a sudden noise. At other times, bodily movements may be produced in a more spontaneous way. Here the physical energy stored within the system gives rise to bodily activity and causes those random impulsive movements so evident during infancy and early childhood. When these movements, which are the only ones possible to very early childhood, are compared with the movements of a workman placing the brick in the wall or of an artist executing a delicate piece of carving, there is found in the latter movements the conscious idea of a definite end, or object, to be reached. To gain control of one's movements is, therefore, to acquire an ability to direct bodily actions toward the attainment of a given end. Thus aquestion arises as to the process by which a child attains to this bodily control.
Ideas of Movements Acquired.—Although, as pointed out above, a child's early instinctive and impulsive movements are not under conscious control, they nevertheless become conscious acts, in the sense that the movements are soon realized in idea. The movements, in other words, give rise to conscious states, and these in turn are retained as portions of past experience. For instance, although the child at first grasps the object only impulsively, he nevertheless soon obtains an idea, or experience, of what it means to grasp with the hand. So, also, although he may first stretch the limb impulsively or make a wry face reflexively, he secures, in a short time, ideas representative of these movements. As the child thus obtains ideas representative of different bodily movements, he is able ultimately, by fixing his attention upon any movement, to produce it in a voluntary way.
Development of Control: A. Ideo-motor Action.—At first, on account of the close association between the thought centres and the motor centres causing the act, the child seems to have little ability to check the act, whenever its representative idea enters consciousness. It is for this reason that young children often perform such seemingly unreasonable acts as, for instance, slapping another person, kicking and throwing objects, etc. In such cases, however, it must not be assumed that these are always deliberate acts. More often the act is performed simply because the image of the act arises in the child's mind, and his control of the motor discharge is so weak that the act follows immediately upon the idea. This same tendency frequently manifests itself even in the adult. As one thinks intently of some favourite game, he may suddenlyfind himself taking a bodily position used in playing that game. It is by the same law also that the impulsive man tends to act out in gesture any act that he may be describing in words. Such a type of action is described as ideo-motor action.
B. Deliberate Action.—Because the child in time gains ideas of various movements and an ability to fix his attention upon them, he thus becomes able to set one motor image against another as possible lines of action. One image may suggest to slap; the other to caress; the one to pull the weeds in the flower bed; the other, to lie down in the hammock. But attention is ultimately able, as noted in the last Chapter, so to control the impulse and resistance in the proper nervous centres that the acts themselves may be indefinitely suspended. Thus the mind becomes able to conceive lines of action and, by controlling bodily movement, gain time to consider the effectiveness of these toward the attainment of any end. When a bodily movement thus takes place in relation to some conscious end in view, it is termed a deliberate act. One important result of physical exercises with the young child is that they develop in him this deliberate control of bodily movements. The same may be said also of any orderly modes of action employed in the general management of the school. Regular forms of assembly and dismissal, of moving about the class-room, etc., all tend to give the child this same control over his acts.
Action versus Result.—As already noted, however, most of our movements soon develop into fixed habits. For this reason our bodily acts are usually performed more or less unconsciously, that is, without any deliberation as to the mere act itself. For this reason, we find that when bodily movements are held in check, or inhibited, in orderto allow time for deliberation, attention usually fixes itself, not upon the acts themselves, but rather upon the results of these acts. For instance, a person having an axe and a saw may wish to divide a small board into two parts. Although the axe may be in his hand, he is thinking, not how he is to use the axe, but how it will result if he uses this to accomplish the end. In the same way he considers, not how to use the saw, but the result of using the saw. By inhibiting the motor impulses which would lead to the use of either of these, the individual is able to note, say, that to use the axe is a quick, but inaccurate, way of gaining the end; to use the saw, a slow, but accurate, way. The present need being interpreted as one where only an approximate division is necessary, attention is thereupon given wholly to the images tending to promote this action; resistance is thus overcome in these centres, and the necessary motor discharges for using the axe are given free play. Here, however, the mind evidently does not deliberate on how the hands are to use the axe or the saw, but rather upon the results following the use of these.
Nature of Will.—When voluntary attention is fixed, as above, upon the results of conflicting lines of action, the mind is said to experience a conflict of desires, or motives. So long as this conflict lasts, physical expression is inhibited, the mind deliberating upon and comparing the conflicting motives. For instance, a pupil on his way to school may be thrown into a conflict of motives. On the one side is a desire to remain under the trees near the bank of the stream; on the other a desire to obey his parents, and go to school. So long as these desires each press themselves upon the attention, there results an inhibitingof the nervous motor discharge with an accompanying mental state of conflict, or indecision. This prevents, for the time being, any action, and the youth deliberates between the two possible lines of conduct. As he weighs the various elements of pleasure on the one hand and of duty on the other, the one desire will finally appear the stronger. This constitutes the person's choice, or decision, and a line of action follows in accordance with the end, or motive, chosen. This mental choice, or decision, is usually termed an act of will.
Attention in Will.—Such a choice between motives, however, evidently involves an act of voluntary attention. What really goes on in consciousness in such a conflict of motives is that voluntary attention makes a single problem of the twofold situation—school versus play. To this problem the attention marshals relative ideas and selects and adjusts them to the complex problem. Finally these are built into an organized experience which solves the problem as one, say, of going to school. The so-called choice is, therefore, merely the mental solution of the situation; the necessary bodily action follows in an habitual manner, once the attention lessens the resistance in the appropriate centres.
Factors in Volitional Act.—Such an act of volition, or will, is usually analysed in the following steps:
1. Conflicting desires
2. Deliberation—weighing of motives
3. Choice—solving the problem
4. Expression.
As a mental process, however, an act of will does not include the fourth step—expression. The mind has evidently willed, the moment a conclusion, or choice, is reachedin reference to the end in view. If, therefore, I stand undecided whether to paint the house white or green, an act of will has taken place when the conclusion, or mental decision, has been reached to paint the house green. On the other hand, however, only the man who forms a decision and then resolutely works out his decision through actual expression, will be credited with a strong will by the ordinary observer.
Physical Conditions of Will.—Deliberation being but a special case of giving voluntary attention to a selected problem, it involves the same expenditure of nervous energy in overcoming resistance within the brain centres as was seen to accompany any act of voluntary attention. Such being the case, our power of will at any given time is likely to vary in accordance with our bodily condition. The will is relatively weak during sickness, for instance, because the normal amount of nervous energy which must accompany the mental processes of deliberation and choice is not able to be supplied. For the same reason, lack of food and sleep, working in bad air, etc., are found to weaken the will for facing a difficulty, though we may nevertheless feel that it is something that ought to be done. An added reason, therefore, why the victim of alcohol and narcotics finds it difficult to break his habit is that the use of these may permanently lessen the energy of the nervous organism. In facing the difficult task of breaking an old habit, therefore, this person has rendered the task doubly difficult, because the indulgence has weakened his will for undertaking the struggle of breaking an old habit. On the other hand, good food, sleep, exercise in the fresh air, by quickening the blood and generating nervous energy, in a sense strengthens the will in undertaking the duties and responsibilities before it.
The Impulsive Will.—One important problem in the education of the will is found in the relation of deliberation to choice. As is the case in a process of learning, the mind in deliberating must draw upon past experiences, must select and weigh conflicting ideas in a more or less intelligent manner, and upon this basis finally make its choice. A first characteristic of a person of will, therefore, is to be able to deliberate intelligently upon any different lines of action which may present themselves. But in the case of many individuals, there seems a lack of this power of deliberation. On every hand they display almost a childlike impulsiveness, rushing blindly into action, and always following up the word with the blow. This type, which is spoken of as an impulsive will, is likely to prevail more or less among young children. It is essential, therefore, that the teacher should take this into account in dealing with the moral and the practical actions of these children. It should be seen that such children in their various exercises are made to inhibit their actions sufficiently to allow them to deliberate and choose between alternative modes of action. For this purpose typical forms of constructive work will be found of educational value. In such exercises situations may be continually created in which the pupil must deliberate upon alternative lines of action and make his choice accordingly.
The Retarded Will.—In some cases a type of will is met in which the attention seems unable to lead deliberation into a state of choice. Like Hamlet, the person keeps ever weighing whetherto be or not to beis the better course. Such people are necessarily lacking in achievement, although always intending to do great things in the future. This type of will is not so prevalent among youngchildren; but if met, the teacher should, as far as possible, encourage the pupil to pass more rapidly from thought to action.
The Sluggish Will.—A third and quite common defect of will is seen where the mind is either too ignorant or too lazy to do the work of deliberating. While such characters are not impulsive, they tend to follow lines of action merely by habit, or in accordance with the direction of others, and do little thinking for themselves. The only remedy for such people is, of course, to quicken their intellectual life. Unless this can be done, the goodness of their character must depend largely upon the nobility of those who direct the formation of their habits and do their thinking for them.
Development of Will.—By recalling what has been established concerning the learning process, we may learn that most school exercises, when properly conducted, involve the essential facts of an act of will. In an ordinary school exercise, the child first has before him a certain aim, or problem, and then must select from former experience the related ideas which will enable him to solve this problem. So far, however, as the child is led to select and reject for himself these interpreting ideas, he must evidently go through a process similar to that of an ordinary act of will. When, for example, the child faces the problem of finding out how many yards of carpet of a certain width will cover the floor of a room, he must first decide how to find the number of strips required. Having come to a decision on this point, he must next give expression to his decision by actually working out this part of the problem. In like manner, he must now decide how to proceed with the next step in his problem and, having come to a conclusion on this point, must also give it expression by performing thenecessary mathematical processes. It is for this reason, that the ordinary lessons and exercises of the school, when presented to the children as actual problems, constitute an excellent means for developing will power.
The Essentials of Moral Character.—It must be noted finally, that will power is a third essential factor in the attainment of real moral character, or social efficiency. We have learned that man, through the possession of an intelligent nature, is able to grasp the significance of his experience and thus form comprehensive plans and purposes for the regulation of his conduct. We have noted further that, through the development of right feeling, he may come to desire and plan for the attainment of only such ends as make for righteousness. Yet, however noble his desires, and however intelligent and comprehensive his plans and purposes, it is only as he develops a volitional personality, or determination of character which impels toward the attainment of these noble ends through intelligent plans, that man can be said to live the truly efficient life.
Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control,These three alone lead life to sovereign power.
Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control,These three alone lead life to sovereign power.
In this connection, also, we cannot do better than quote Huxley's description of an educated man, as given in his essay onA Liberal Education, a description which may be considered to crystallize the true conception of an efficient citizen: