The war, which has left no field of human interest untouched, has raised many questions about religion that must be dealt with in new ways—about its validity, its power, its future. The impression the whole experience of the war seems to convey is that religion has failed to be either a great creative force or a great restraining power, although to express this as a failure of religion may imply more than we have a right to expect of it. Religion did not cause the war, but it certainly did not prevent it. It had no power to make peace. Yet we see that now religion is needed more than ever, and that if the social life be not deeply infused with the religious spirit, and if we do not live as a world more in the religious spirit, something fundamental and necessary will be wanting which may be the most essential factor of progress and civilization. The war leaves us with the feeling, perhaps, that until now the world has had far too many religions and too little religion. There has been too much of creed and too little of deep and sustaining religious moods. Perhaps, as Russell says, we are to be convinced that religion has been too professional; there has been too much paid service, and too little voluntary service.
Such conclusions of course have in them all the reservation that personal reactions must have, but it is easy to believe that in the life of such a nation as our own, and indeed in the world, no practical unity will ever be permanently reached unless there be a firm basis in a common religious foundation. This we might say is made probable by the truth that religion is the most fundamental thing in life, andif there be no unity and common understanding in that sphere, there can be none in reality anywhere in life. Differences in creed mean little, except in so far as they conceal basic agreement and make artificial barriers; differences in the way of understanding and valuing the world mean everything. We want a common religious faith—common in the possession at least of the moods which make a harmonious social life possible, and of the spirit in which the world's work can, we may believe, alone be done.
Upon such grounds one might maintain that a very important part of the work of education everywhere is to teach now morenatural religion, or rather perhapsthat the school must be everywhere conducted to a greater extent in the spirit of religion. Then we might hope to see religion becoming actually a power in the social life, helping to transform the crude forces and purposes of the day into higher ones. With such a religious basis we might begin to see the working of God in history and in the world as a whole, and we should feel in the history of the world and in the world that is before us the presence of reality. Then we should have a common ground for the sympathy and understanding without which not even the most practical affairs can be conducted efficiently. That ideal in education, often expressed by the educator, which holds that the purpose of all teaching is to convey the meaning of the world to the child, to make the world live in epitome, so to speak, in the soul of every child, is religious and nothing else, and quite satisfies the demands of our present day.
If such a standpoint be the right one, certainly the ambition of any nation (or indeed of any group) to have a religion peculiar to itself and an outgrowth of its own culture is unfortunate, and indeed comes from the very essence of morbid nationalism. In such desires there is thinly veiled the hope that through religion the old claim of nations to the right to temporal supremacy may be vindicated. Lagarde, in about 1874, was probably the first to say thatGermany must have a national religion, but during the war this hope has been expressed again and again—Germany must have a new religion, befitting a great independent people, and must no longer be dependent for its religion upon an old and inferior race. Whether this longing for a new religion has not been in reality a longing to be upheld again by the old pagan faith, which was a fitting cult for the nationalistic temper, with its ideal of force, may justly be asked. It is interesting to remember that in Japan also, in recent times, there has been a demand for a national religion that should unite all the creeds in one. That this idea of a national religion, as contrasted with an universal religion, is opposed to the spirit of Christianity is plain, and the claim that Germany has not been able to understand the key-note of Christianity, as it is revealed in humanity and justice, may therefore be said to have some foundation in truth.
Can we say that the work of education, in the religious life, is that of inculcating and extending Christianity? It might indeed so be interpreted, and with a liberal enough understanding of Christianity we should say that this is true. But after all, it is Christianity as the vehicle of certain fundamental religious moods and ideals that, from an educational point of view at least, is of the greatest concern. It is the optimistic mood, the ideal of justice and humanity, the recognition of the worth of the soul of the individual, the ideal of service—it is these qualities of Christianity rather than its specific doctrines that we must now emphasize in our wider social life, and such religion is natural religion, or philosophy or Christianity as we may choose to call it. Any experience, indeed, that fosters such moods and ideals has a place in religious education. Who can doubt that such religion must henceforth have a large place in the world? It will be the test in the end of the possibility of sincere internationalism. Unless we can have common religious moods we can have no universal morality thatis founded upon secure feeling and principles, and unless we can include the whole world in our religion, we shall certainly not be able to include it in any sincere way in our politics.
No religion, finally, will be profound enough and have great enough power to be thus a support of a future world-consciousness unless it be a religion of feeling rather than primarily of ideas—a religion in fact capable of inspiring ecstatic moods. And this ecstasy of feeling can never in our modern world be a prevailing quality of the religious life unless religion be something that extends over all life and draws its power from all the energies and capacities of the psychic life. The religion of our new era, we may be sure, if it be in any real sense a religion of the world, will not be something apart from and above other experiences. It will be a secular religion and a democratic religion, a quality and spirit of life as a whole. Experience referred to what we believe is real and universal, and subjected sincerely to all the capacities and criteria of appreciation that we possess is religious experience. Religion, educationally considered, is a means of giving to life a sense of reality and of value. That spirit should pervade and inspire all we do in the work of education.
There has much been said during the war to the effect that the great struggle was essentially a conflict between the spirit of humanism and some principle or other which was conceived to be the opposite of humanism. Humanism is said to be opposed to rationalism, or to nationalism, or specialization, or paganism, or Germanism as a whole, humanism often being thought of as the spirit of Greek or Christian thought and philosophy.
There is truth, we should say, in these views. Humanism in a broad sense emerged from all the purposes of the war as the principle of the greater part of the world, as opposed to the idea of Germanism. This spirit of humanism, however, is no single motive or feeling. It is a complex mood, so to speak, and it is not to be regarded as strange that it has been felt and described in various ways, and that it is not yet clearly understood.Humanism appears to be most deeply felt as the appreciation of the common and fundamental things in human nature.It inclines toward the employment of feeling, or at least to subjective rather than to purely objective principles in the determination of fundamental values in life. Humanism includes an interest in personality, which is of course the most basic of the common possessions of man, and it is therefore interested in justice and in freedom. Humanism as thus an appreciation of fundamental values in life by feeling rather than by principle, belongs to the deeper currents of life, those that flow in the subconscious—it is close to instinct, to moods, and the religious and the aesthetic experiences.
The later German philosophy of life we might mention as a denial of much that humanism asserts. Here we see a doctrine of force, an ideal of life based upon the elevation of conscious will to its first principle. If we seek concrete contrasts to this anti-humanism we might mention our own national life, governed by an idea of free living, which has made possible the assimilation of many stocks, in a life in which common human nature is regarded as the supreme value. Extreme specialization, rational principles, objective standards are watchwords of the plan of life that is most opposed to humanism. In this life instincts and values determined by feelings are brought out into the clear light of consciousness and are there judged with reference to their fitness to serve ends determined by reason. It is all noon-day glare in this rational consciousness. Collectivism is based upon coercion and upon calculation of the value of order in serving practical purposes, themselves determined by a theory of society, instead of upon social feeling or upon a natural process of assimilation of the different and the individual into a common life. Specialization also, in this philosophy, is a result of calculation rather than of a belief in the value of the individual, and is gained by the sacrifice of those experiences which, if we hold to the humanistic ideal, we regard as essential to the life of the individual and to society. This calculus of values extends, of course, into the field of international life. Here too conduct is based upon estimation of effects, freedom is relative to and subordinate to economic values. A theory of the state takes precedence over all subjective ethical principles, and there must be a disavowal of all native sentiments and judgments as regards justice which issue from an appreciation of the worth of personality and other fundamental human values and possessions; and all common human sentiments which would stand in the way of carrying out the decisions of reason and state-theory or any political policy must of course also be denied.
This contrast, however inadequate our analysis of the spirit of humanism and its opposite may be, will at least show that the idea of justice, which in the humanistic ideal grows directly out of the appreciation of the value of personality is the central practical principle of humanism, and it is exactly as an opponent of the idea of justice on the ground of its alleged weakness, that the rationalistic or the nationalistic philosophy is best conceived.
It is upon this question of justice that we must take our stand for or against humanism. If we are humanists we believe in the rights of individuals, whether men or nations, to their own life and independence, which they are entitled to preserve through all forms of social processes. Justice means recognition of the right of individuals to perform all their functions as individuals, and humanism is precisely an appreciation of the values of the individual as such a functioning whole. If we are humanists we believe that this principle of justice, and this feeling of justice ought to be cultivated and made world-wide. This is the ideal of equal rights to all human values. Hence it is the mortal enemy of all philosophies of life which place any principle above that of justice and its moral implications, Whether in the narrower or the wider social life. This is humanism.
There are various ways of interpreting humanism as a practical philosophy or principle of education. Burnet says, perhaps not very completely expressing what he means, that the humanistic ideal of education, as contrasted with the merely formal, is that the pupils should above all be led to feel the meaning and worth of what they are studying. We should say that the meaning of humanism in education is thatthe child should understand and appreciate the meaning and worth of all human life. This requires that education should so be conducted that the child may learn to see—rather to feel and appreciate—the inner rather than the merely external nature of all life that is presented to him, and in which he participates. Not language, butthought; not history, but experience, is his field. Justice depends wholly upon an ability to come upon reality in the realm of human nature. This implies not only intellectual penetration, but a form of sympathy which consists of putting oneself as completely as possible into the life of that which is studied.
All this means, it is plain, a power in the educational process, a spirit and a mood in all education which we have not yet in any very large measure attained. What is required is indeed that children should live more intimately with reality, so to speak, and that we should not be satisfied when they have merely learned about it. We shall not be content, however, with an educational process which, in fulfilling these requirements for more life, becomes merelyactive. Life must also be dramatic and intense and abundant. All the mental processes—the feelings, the intellectual functions and not the will alone must participate in this active life.
We shall soon see, no doubt, and in fact we are beginning already to see a renewed interest in all the arguments for and against a humanistic as opposed to a scientific culture and curriculum for our schools. It is the humanistic side from which, it is likely, we shall now hear the most pleas, for the war has ended, they say, in victory for humanity and for humanism—hence for the humanities. It is the Christian and the Græco-Roman civilization that has prevailed. Victorious France, whose culture is founded upon that of the Greek and the Roman, has vindicated the supreme value of that culture. On the other hand we hear that our present age has become an age of science. If science has been a factor in causing the war, science has also won it. If industrialism involved the world in disaster, the world will be saved by more and better work, more practical living, wider organization for the production of goods and of wealth. Therefore our curriculum must become more practical. We must have more of business andindustry, more vocational training, more training that sharpens the intelligence.
There is a truth which cannot be overlooked in the claim of the humanists, but the acceptance of it as it stands as a philosophy of education is not without its serious dangers. What we may well apprehend is a reactionary philosophy of education, and of all culture. We begin to hear very strong pleas, for example, for a school in which language, literature, and perhaps history become the center. West[1]asks for a wider recognition of the humanities after the war. Moore[2]says that the war is a victory of the civilization finally established by the Romans on the basis of law, over the barbaric ideas of power. Seeing this he is led to plead for a closer union now between Latin and modern studies, binding civilization of to-day with the thought and feeling of old Rome. Butler[3]says that we are surely coming back to the classical languages and literature.
Such conclusions as these raise many questions and perhaps doubts and apprehension. The ideal they express of penetrating the heart of civilization and experiencing in the educational process the inner life rather than the outer form of life, must indeed appeal to all, and we should all as humanists agree that this ideal expresses what humanism means and is the center of a true philosophy of education—but whether this ideal can be realized by any school that clings to the old classical learning, even in spirit, is quite another matter. To-day, if ever, we need to go forward in education. Our spirit must be that of the searcher for new truth, and for a better life. The old will not satisfy us either as a model and ideal or as a method. No already accumulated culture material will be adequate for our new school.
Our schools of to-morrow, we should conclude, must still be inspired by the scientific spirit, but what we need is science humanised, and science in the service of moral principles.One may well ask whether it is not now the most opportune time to leave our classical learning behind, and try to find a more adequate culture in which to convey the spirit of our new humanism. If we have won a victory for humanity, as we think, and have kept alive the Christian spirit by means of a meager culture, we need not still cling to that culture if we can find something better. Even if modern Germany has misused science and brought it to reproach, we need not be prejudiced against science. We need more science but we need to bring science into closer relation to the whole of human life. We need more of all the psychological sciences as an aid to our appreciation of history as the story and a revelation of the meaning of spirit in the world—and it is this way rather than throughlanguagethat we must undertake to know and to explain life. On the other hand, it is for the business of practical, social living that the material sciences should have most significance in education. There is no science, not even mathematics, that cannot be taught as a phase of the adventure of spirit in the world, and none that cannot in some way be made to aid spirit in finding and keeping its true course in the future. Such use of all culture is what we mean by humanism. The secret of the difference in the educational ideals of those whom we may call the old humanists and the new is that to one education means predominantlylearning, and to the other it means mainlyliving. Living, for the child, means growing into the life of the world by participating in spirit and in body, according to the child's needs and capacities, in the activities of the world. To gain a consciousness of the meaning of those activities through a knowledge of their history and by an appreciation of their purpose is indeed the main purpose of learning.
[1]Educational Review, February, 1919.
[1]Educational Review, February, 1919.
[2]Educational Review, February, 1919.
[2]Educational Review, February, 1919.
[3]Teachers College Record, January, 1919.
[3]Teachers College Record, January, 1919.
Throughout this study we have again and again been led to consider the relations of the aesthetic experiences to the practical life. It is as the repository of deep desires and as the appreciation of values that the aesthetic may be most readily seen to be practical, but it performs other functions. As ecstatic experience it is the source ofpowerin the conscious life, and it was indeed the belief in art as a means of attaining power that has given art its place in the world. The aesthetic experience is the form also in which desires are brought into relation to one another, harmonized and transformed, or transferred to new objects. So the aesthetic is the type of adaptation in the inner life.
We have asserted that all life, and certainly the educational process, must have its dramatic moments, since the dramatic experience, as ecstasy of the social life, is the expression of social feeling in its highest form. The aesthetic experience is the central point of experience, so to speak, at which social ideals impinge upon and influence and mold pure nature. Art is the form in which play, representing biological forces, is carried to a higher stage, and made a factor in conscious evolution. The aesthetic experience is a practical attitude in another way. It is by our aesthetic appreciation, more than we commonly understand, that we judge life as a totality, that we estimate the fitness of its parts to belong to the whole, and that indeed we guide life when we judge it not according to principles which so often are seen to be inadequate, but when we try to bring to bearour utmost of powers of appreciation and to find ultimate values.
Such a recognition of the relation of art or the aesthetic to life we see often expressed in the literature of the day. It is a sign of the times—of an effort to attain higher powers, to take more comprehensive views of life, and to gain deeper insight into it. It is a phase of the seriousness of purpose which the war has aroused in us. Dide speaks of a deep but obscure need that drives all human beings to put themselves in harmony with the universal, and says that this is the end and purpose of the aesthetic tendencies. This phase of the place of the aesthetic is seen and expressed in various ways. Some think of it as a significant change in the attitude of life which is to bring about an era of peace. Clutton-Brook, an English writer, says that unless we attain to some kind of beauty and art, we shall have no lasting peace. We shall never have freedom from war until we have a peace that is worth living. Some see in the humanistic spirit an essentially aesthetic principle. The fairness and justice of the French, the spirit of the English that expresses itself in their ideal of sportsmanship, some attribute to the aesthetic spirit.
All this is in keeping with our new experiences of life in all its dynamic expressions. It becomes easier for us to see the truth about the nature of the aesthetic and of all other powers of consciousness, since consciousness has revealed itself to us as itself so great a power. The aesthetic experience may no longer appear to be only a joy, something subjective, but, indeed, as a practical force in the world. The aesthetic is a feeling of power, but it is also an experience in which mental power is generated, and it must be employed to such an end. The aesthetic mood is a mood of happiness, but it is also a mood of persuasion, in which something is being done to the will, and in which desires are being turned continually toward new objects, and composite feelings are being formed which will direct thecourse of future experience. So art and the aesthetic experience are not things apart from life, but may even be thought of as the method and the quality of life in some of its most dynamic forms. They are not added to life as an ornament or a luxury, but are the spirit in which life is lived when it is indeed most productive.
When we make specific analyses of aesthetic experience we find represented in it all the deep motives and tendencies, of life. This gives us our clew to the practical application of the aesthetic in the business of life. All it contains, all the art and the play of the world must be put to work, although this is a conclusion that might readily be misunderstood. We do not expect to harness the powers of childhood to the world's tasks, or expect industry to become fine art, but we do expect art and play to be something more than passive and unproductive states. We expect them to sustain and to create the energies by which the world's work is to be carried on. We would utilize them to give more power to life at every point, and to make all activities of the practical life more free and creative. And was there ever a time when power was more greatly needed—in industry, in political life and in every phase of life both of the individual and of society?
But it is not only in creating and doing that the world needs art to-day, in the sense in which we mean to define it. An aroused world is called upon to feel to the depths of reality, and to draw from these depths new and more profound valuations. We stand at a point where many things in life must be tested and judged anew, where the danger of perverting and misjudging many things is great. It is by the powers of appreciation gained in dynamic states of consciousness, we may believe, rather than by discoveries and an accumulation of data that we shall be most certain of finding true values, and the way of extrication from our present grave doubts.
Can one hesitate to conclude, then, that in all oureducational experiences, we must try not only to train these powers that we call aesthetic, but to give opportunity at every point for the exercise of them as selective functions, and as a means of creating and expressing power in the mental life?
In the philosophy of education it is with moods that in our view, we have most of all to deal. Man, we have a right to say, is a creature offeeling, not of instinct or of reason. It is not the instinct as a definite reaction to stimulus or as an inner necessity, nor emotion as a subjective response to this stimulus that is the driving force of conduct, but rather the more lasting and deeper and more complex states or processes that we can call by no other name than moods. Since it is in the moods that the most profound longing or tendency or desire is represented, we say that moods are the object of chief concern in a practical philosophy of life. These moods are the repositories, so to speak, of instinct, impulse, tendency, desire, and it is therefore by the control and education of moods that the individual in all his social and in all his personal aspects will be most fundamentally educable if he is educable at all.
It is as the seat of the will to power, we might say, that the moods which are the main sources of human energy are to be conceived. The craving for power, as a generalization of more primitive desires, comes to take the position of the main motive in life. The craving for power is a desire, as we see when we analyze it, that expresses itself as a longing for ecstatic or intense states of consciousness, and an abundant life. It is a craving to be possessed by strong desire and also for the satisfaction of many desires—often vicariously, since the objects desired may be confused and general. So this motive of power and the ecstatic states in which it is expressed or realized is no instinct and nopure emotion. It is an outgrowth and culmination of instincts, a fusion of them into a new product.
It would be going too far afield to try to summarize here the psychology of moods or of the motive of power in the individual and in society, but the main fact needed for the moment seems plain. In this motive and its expression in feeling and conduct there is a very general tendency which is the source of many forms of interest and enthusiasm, of ambition, of the spirit of war, of various kinds of excitement, and to some extent of morbid and criminal tendencies. The spirit of war we think of as a summation of the same forces as those which in other ways appear as the energies behind various enterprises having quite different objectives. War is an anachronism, we may believe, a wrong direction taken by the forces of the social life, an archaic expression now, let us say, of the will to power which might and ought to have different objectives. In the life and the mood of the great city we see a very varied expression of the motive of power. The city life is still a crude life. It satisfies deep desires, but in it desires for we know not what are aroused. It is indeed as the seat of eager, unsatisfied desire that the city is best of all characterized. These desires readily take shape in the city as the spirit of war and as a craving for excitement of various kinds.
These same forces re-directed or finding different objects and working under different conditions appear in moral, religious, or aesthetic forms. In these higher experiences and more progressive moments in history or in the life of the individual, the forces which at other levels emerge in different forms and in search of different objects we may think of as transformed, or given new direction; but to suppose them annihilated or suppressed is to misunderstand, according to our view, the whole process of the development of spirit. Life is not a process in which instincts are balanced, or in which good motives stand in sharp contrast to bad motives, or in which an original selfishness is opposedand gradually overcome by an altruistic motive. We think rather of very complex processes in which many desires, gathered into moods, find many forms of expression. There are prevailing moods—of war and of peace—and these moods are deep forces, containing both the desires and the sources of energy, so to speak, out of which our future will be made. The ecstatic states of the social life, the moods of war and the enthusiasm of the periods of rapid change are conditions in which energies and purposes are deeply stirred. These are the moods ofintoxication, if we wish to describe them by pointing out one of their chief common characteristics. Peace is areverie, we may say, in which the purposes and the results expressed and attained in the more dramatic moments are elaborated and fulfilled, and in which new impulse is gathered of which the dramatic moment is itself the expression. But throughout the whole course of history and through all the life of the individual, the same motives are at work. Life in its fundamental movements and motives, we should argue, is both simple and continuous. It is fragmentary and complex only on its surface.
The whole problem of the nature of education of course resolves itself, from this point of view, into the question whether progress is something inherent in nature, or is something controlled by man. Or if we cannot make so sharp a contrast between nature and will, shall we say that progress is in the main and in all essential ways one or the other? Does conscious effort, the having of ideals, exert any profound effect upon the history of spirit? Does it accelerate, give direction, provide energy? Is the course of history inevitable or is the making of it in our hands? We can see what, in a general way, so far as regards the transformation of the fundamental motives of life, the order of development has been—how the original and basic desires or instincts have become merged and confused in the more general desires and moods, how the motive ofpower has emerged, finding so varied expression as we see in the whole movement of art and play in the world, how out of these motives of art and play more controlled enthusiasms have arisen. But the part in this movement played by conscious direction does not thus far appear to have been great. A movement of and within consciousness it has been, and no mere biological or physical development, but when we speak of conscious will or any ideals controlling the course of spirit in essential ways, we find as yet only a beginning. And yet, this does not indicate that in the future conscious direction may not be even the greatest factor in evolution. It is difficult to see how we canknowwith certainty that we have such powers; but to refrain from acting as though we had is also difficult, and indeed impossible.
As a working hypothesis, at least, we seem to be allowed to assume that much will depend, in the future, upon the extent to which conscious factors are brought to bear upon the world's progress as a whole, upon the form in which the world-idea shapes itself, and the power which is put behind that world idea by the educational forces of the world. The world appears now to stand balanced at a critical moment, its future depending upon whether old ideals and primitive emotions shall prevail, or whether a new spirit which is perhaps after all but a sense of direction growing out of the old order shall become the dominating influences. Whether the consciousness of nations shall be creative and progressive seems to depend now upon the extent to which the whole life of feeling is influenced by ideas which, although they are products, as we say, of the primitive biological processes that underlie history, are also outside these processes, as definite purposes, desires, visions, ideals. At least we seem to depend now upon these superior influences for many things that we regard as good—for the rate at which we shall make progress, and for the certainty of making progress at all. Upon these conscious factors directing and shaping the plastic forces representedin the moods of our time, we shall assume, the course of history will depend.
We are no longer to be satisfied withnatural progress. We have gone too far and too long, let us say, upon a rising tide of biological forces, and we have not yet realized what conscious evolution might mean. We have been too well satisfied with the physical resources and the psychic energies that seemed sufficient for the need of the day. A world in which democracy is going to prevail can no longer live in this way. It will not grow of itself in a state of nature. Its principle, on the other hand, forbids program-making after the manner of autocratic societies. Democracy, as the form in which the youthful and exuberant spirit of the world now makes ready for creating the next stage of civilization, will advance, we may suppose, neither by nature nor by force. It is the main work of our day to find for ourselves a new and better mode of shaping history, by bringing to bear upon all the social motives of the day the best and strongest influences. Our whole situation is from this point of view an educational problem. Probably there was never a greater need than that the democratic forces of the world now have great leadership. It is a practical world, a world of politics and of business, but it is also a world exceedingly sensitive to many influences, good and bad, a world in which, we may think, nothing great and permanent can be accomplished unless moral, religious and æsthetic influences prevail and give to our civilization its new dominant.
It will depend upon these conscious forces—upon our efforts to make progress and upon the clarity of our vision—it must depend upon these—whether in the future our great war shall be looked back upon as after all an upheaval of primitive forces and a debauch of instincts, or as the beginning of a new life. It is for us to create out of the war the foundation of a better order. We cannot go back to the old régime. Our enthusiasms will either be directed tobetter things, or the emotions aroused by the war will run riot and finally settle into habits on a low plane, and destroy, it may be, all that civilization has thus far gained. All things seem possible, in this critical time.
Stated in the broadest possible way, the educational problem of our times seems plain. We must lay hold upon and set to work for a higher civilization the motives and purposes that in the past have worked obstructively, and now destructively. A great work of our day is to understand these motives and forces that were the main factors in the cause of the war, and make them count for progress. That they are powerful forces we can have no doubt. They are not for that reason hard to direct, at least not necessarily so. We see that, whether in war or in peace, we need greater power in the social life. Life must be made to satisfy the longing for intensity and abundance of experience. But this abundant life that we now seek cannot be something merely subjective and emotional. To see this is indeed the crucial test. This subjective life cannot remain an ideal in a world determined to become democratic, to make progress, to be a practical and well-coördinated world. Abundant life must now be sought in the performance of functions which express themselves in practical aims and consequences. The prevailing mood and form of this life may still be dramatic, and indeed it must be dramatic. The possession of this quality is the test of its power.
Such views, of course, imply that our practical educational problem is something very different from that of finding anoutlet for emotions. For example, to search for a substitute for war now is a superficial way of looking at the problem of the control and education of the social consciousness. We think of the motives that have caused the war, according to these older views, as bad instincts or evil emotions, as we are usually asked to think of the motives behind intemperance, and the habits of gambling and the like. By some form of katharsis we hope to drain off these emotions(unless we undertake merely to suppress them). This we say is a narrow view of the problem, merely because the motives that underlie the conduct we deplore are notbad instincts, or indeed instincts as such at all, but rather feelings or moods which are variable in their expression, complex, and educable. They have no definite object of which they are in search, so that we may think the only way to thwart them is to find some object closely resembling theirs which may surreptitiously be substituted for them. These motives are indeed broad and general. We must do with them what education must do all along the line, find the fundamental desires they contain and utilize the energies expressed in these desires in the performance of functions—these functions being the purposes most fundamentally at work in the social life or representing our social ideals.
Such an ideal of education invites us to work beneath the political and all formal, institutional and merely practical affairs and to lay our foundations in the depths of human nature. There we shall begin to establish or to lay hold upon continuity, and there bring together the fragments of purpose which we find in the life we seek to direct. This which one can so easily say in a sentence is, of course, the whole problem of education. These things are what we must work for in establishing and sustaining our democracy, for we must, to this end, make forces work together, instead of separately and antagonistically as they themselves tend to do. It is the same problem, at heart, in the education of the individual—to harmonize desires, and to create a higher synthesis of energies than nature itself will yield. And in the new and wider field of international life that opens up before us, the problem is still educational. The educational forces of the world must begin now the gigantic task of national character building. The spirit of the nations, the divergent motives of power, of glory, of comfort and pleasure-seeking that are said to dominate nations, the justice, and loyalty, and steadfastness and truthwhich at least they put upon their banners and into their songs must be made to work together in a practical and progressive world, or to make such a world possible.
The Germans like to interpret the tricolor of their flag as signifyingDurch Nacht und Blut zur Licht. But plainly the night and bloodshed do not always lead to light, and of themselves they cannot. Nor, must we think, need the world continue always to seek its way toward light only through the blackness and guilt of wars and revolutions. In some distant day, let us think, justice and morality will have been bred into all the social life, and life will be lived more in the spirit of art and religion. Then they will see that, under the influence of these forces we call now educational, an old order will have given way to a new by imperceptible degrees, and it will be no longer through darkness and bloodshed that the world must make its way to light, but need only go through light to greater light.
The following list contains the titles of a few books and articles that have contributed data or suggestions to this study. It is neither complete nor systematic. Numbers in the text refer to this list.1. A.W. Small, General Sociology.2. C. Andler, Frightfulness in Theory and Practice.3. W.E. Walling, The Sociologists and the War.4. H. Hauser, Germany's Commercial Grip of the World.5. J.F. O'Ryan and W.D.A. Anderson, The Modern Army in Action.6. R. Dunn, Five Fronts.7. Mrs. Henry Hobhouse, I Appeal Unto Cæsar.8. F.H. Giddings, The Western Hemisphere in the World of To-morrow.9. O.H. Kahn, Prussianized Germany.10. C. Mitchell, Evolution, and the War.11. A. Wehrmann, Deutsche Aufsaetze Ueber den Weltkrieg, etc.12. J.P. Bang, Hurrah and Hallelujah.13. E. Boutroux, Philosophy and the War.14. M.A. Morrison, Sidelights on Germany.15. R. Lehmann, Was Ist Deutsch? (In Vom kommenden Frieden.)16. Durkheim, Germany Over All.17. H. Bergson, The Meaning of the War.18. J. Burnet, Higher Education and the War.19. C.L. Drawbridge, The War and Religious Ideals.20. M. Dide, Les Emotions et la Guerre.21. D.G. Brinton, The Basis of Social Relations.22. Ernesta R. Bullitt, An Uncensored Diary from the Central Empires.23. Hundert Briefe Aus dem Felde.24. Mrs. Denis O'Sullivan, Harry Butters "An American Citizen."25. W. Irwin, Men, Women and War.26. G. Roethe, Von Deutscher Art and Kultur.27. J.W. Gerard, My Four Years in Germany.28. W.R. Roberts, Patriotic Poetry: Greek and English.29. Schmitz, Das Wirkliche Deutschland.30. Redier, Comrades in Courage.31. Igglesden, Out There.32. Madame Lucy Hoesch-Ernst, Patriotismus und Patriotitis.33. W.E. Ritter, War, Science and Civilization.34. Hobhouse, The World in Conflict.35. G.S. Fullerton, Germany of To-day.36. A. Pinchot, War and the King Trust.37. J.T. MacCurdy, The Psychology of War.38. E.L. Fox, Behind the Scenes in Warring Germany.39. J. Chapman, Deutschland Ueber Alles.40. G. Blondel, Les Embarras de l'Allemagne.41. P. Bigelow, The German Emperor and His Eastern Neighbors.42. G. Le Bon, The Psychology of the Great War.43. T.A. Cook, Kultur and Catastrophe.44. Cheradame, The German Plot Unmasked.45. J.B. Booth, The Gentle Cultured German.46. J. Claes, The German Mole.47. T.F.A. Smith, The Soul of Germany.48. W.N. Willis, What Germany Wants.49. Hintze, The Meaning of the War. (Modern Germany.)50. Zitelmann, The War and International Law. (Modern Germany.)51. Schmoller, Origin and Nature of German Institutions. (Modern Germany.)52. Hintze, Germany and the World Powers. (Modern Germany.)53. F. Meinecke, Kultur Policy of Power and Militarism. (Modern Germany.)54. O.G. Villard, Germany Embattled.55. E.J. Dillon, Ourselves and Germany.56. R. MacFall, Germany at Bay.57. C. Tower, Changing Germany.58. W.R. Thayer, Germany vs. Civilization.59. Lamprecht, What Is History?60. B.T. Curtin, The Land of Deepening Shadows.61. P. Bigelow, Prussian Memories.62. E. Troeltsch, The Spirit of German Kultur. (Modern Germany.)63. A. Guilland, Modern Germany and Her Historians.64. T.F.A. Smith, What Germany Thinks.65. Von Bülow, Imperial Germany.66. J.A. Cramb, Germany and England.67. G. Bourdon, The German Enigma.68. P. Collier, Germany and Germans.69. H.B. Swope, Inside the German Empire.70. Sumner, Folkways.71. J. Novicow, Les Luttes Entre Sociétes Humaines en Leur Phases Successives.72. H. Gibson, A Journal from Our Legation in Belgium.73. A.M. Pooley, Japan at the Cross-Roads.74. F.J. Adkins, The War.75. H.E. Powers, The Things Men Fight For.76. J. M'Cabe, The Soul of Europe.77. Scheler, Der Genius des Krieges und der Deutsche Krieg.78. S. Freud, Reflections on War and Death.79. Nicolai, Die Biologie des Krieges.80. P. Gibbs, The Soul of the War.81. T. Roosevelt, America and the World War.82. W. Trotter, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War.83. J. Novicow, Der Krieg und Seine Angeblichen Wohltaten.84. G.R.S. Taylor, The Psychology of the Great War.85. W. Wundt, Die Nationen und Ihre Philosophie.86. Nusbaum, Der Krieg im Lichte der Biologie.87. Edith Wharton, Fighting France.88. Crile, A Mechanistic View of War and Peace.89. Eleanor M. Sidgwick, The Morality of Strife in Relation to the War. (The International Crisis.)90. G. Murray, Herd Instinct and the War. (The International Crisis.)91. Bosanquet, Patriotism in the Perfect State. (The International Crisis.)92. A.G. Bradley, International Morality. (The International Crisis.)93. L.P. Jacks, The Changing Mind of a Nation at War. (The International Crisis.)94. G.F. Stout, War and Hatred. (The International Crisis.)95. E. Mach, What Germany Wants.96. F. Peil, Der Weltkrieg.97. T. Veblen, The Nature of Peace.98. Hirschfeld, Kriegsbiologisches.99. H.A. Gibbons, The New Map of Europe.100. F.C. Howe, Why War?
The following list contains the titles of a few books and articles that have contributed data or suggestions to this study. It is neither complete nor systematic. Numbers in the text refer to this list.
1. A.W. Small, General Sociology.2. C. Andler, Frightfulness in Theory and Practice.3. W.E. Walling, The Sociologists and the War.4. H. Hauser, Germany's Commercial Grip of the World.5. J.F. O'Ryan and W.D.A. Anderson, The Modern Army in Action.6. R. Dunn, Five Fronts.7. Mrs. Henry Hobhouse, I Appeal Unto Cæsar.8. F.H. Giddings, The Western Hemisphere in the World of To-morrow.9. O.H. Kahn, Prussianized Germany.10. C. Mitchell, Evolution, and the War.11. A. Wehrmann, Deutsche Aufsaetze Ueber den Weltkrieg, etc.12. J.P. Bang, Hurrah and Hallelujah.13. E. Boutroux, Philosophy and the War.14. M.A. Morrison, Sidelights on Germany.15. R. Lehmann, Was Ist Deutsch? (In Vom kommenden Frieden.)16. Durkheim, Germany Over All.17. H. Bergson, The Meaning of the War.18. J. Burnet, Higher Education and the War.19. C.L. Drawbridge, The War and Religious Ideals.20. M. Dide, Les Emotions et la Guerre.21. D.G. Brinton, The Basis of Social Relations.22. Ernesta R. Bullitt, An Uncensored Diary from the Central Empires.23. Hundert Briefe Aus dem Felde.24. Mrs. Denis O'Sullivan, Harry Butters "An American Citizen."25. W. Irwin, Men, Women and War.26. G. Roethe, Von Deutscher Art and Kultur.27. J.W. Gerard, My Four Years in Germany.28. W.R. Roberts, Patriotic Poetry: Greek and English.29. Schmitz, Das Wirkliche Deutschland.30. Redier, Comrades in Courage.31. Igglesden, Out There.32. Madame Lucy Hoesch-Ernst, Patriotismus und Patriotitis.33. W.E. Ritter, War, Science and Civilization.34. Hobhouse, The World in Conflict.35. G.S. Fullerton, Germany of To-day.36. A. Pinchot, War and the King Trust.37. J.T. MacCurdy, The Psychology of War.38. E.L. Fox, Behind the Scenes in Warring Germany.39. J. Chapman, Deutschland Ueber Alles.40. G. Blondel, Les Embarras de l'Allemagne.41. P. Bigelow, The German Emperor and His Eastern Neighbors.42. G. Le Bon, The Psychology of the Great War.43. T.A. Cook, Kultur and Catastrophe.44. Cheradame, The German Plot Unmasked.45. J.B. Booth, The Gentle Cultured German.46. J. Claes, The German Mole.47. T.F.A. Smith, The Soul of Germany.48. W.N. Willis, What Germany Wants.49. Hintze, The Meaning of the War. (Modern Germany.)50. Zitelmann, The War and International Law. (Modern Germany.)51. Schmoller, Origin and Nature of German Institutions. (Modern Germany.)52. Hintze, Germany and the World Powers. (Modern Germany.)53. F. Meinecke, Kultur Policy of Power and Militarism. (Modern Germany.)54. O.G. Villard, Germany Embattled.55. E.J. Dillon, Ourselves and Germany.56. R. MacFall, Germany at Bay.57. C. Tower, Changing Germany.58. W.R. Thayer, Germany vs. Civilization.59. Lamprecht, What Is History?60. B.T. Curtin, The Land of Deepening Shadows.61. P. Bigelow, Prussian Memories.62. E. Troeltsch, The Spirit of German Kultur. (Modern Germany.)63. A. Guilland, Modern Germany and Her Historians.64. T.F.A. Smith, What Germany Thinks.65. Von Bülow, Imperial Germany.66. J.A. Cramb, Germany and England.67. G. Bourdon, The German Enigma.68. P. Collier, Germany and Germans.69. H.B. Swope, Inside the German Empire.70. Sumner, Folkways.71. J. Novicow, Les Luttes Entre Sociétes Humaines en Leur Phases Successives.72. H. Gibson, A Journal from Our Legation in Belgium.73. A.M. Pooley, Japan at the Cross-Roads.74. F.J. Adkins, The War.75. H.E. Powers, The Things Men Fight For.76. J. M'Cabe, The Soul of Europe.77. Scheler, Der Genius des Krieges und der Deutsche Krieg.78. S. Freud, Reflections on War and Death.79. Nicolai, Die Biologie des Krieges.80. P. Gibbs, The Soul of the War.81. T. Roosevelt, America and the World War.82. W. Trotter, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War.83. J. Novicow, Der Krieg und Seine Angeblichen Wohltaten.84. G.R.S. Taylor, The Psychology of the Great War.85. W. Wundt, Die Nationen und Ihre Philosophie.86. Nusbaum, Der Krieg im Lichte der Biologie.87. Edith Wharton, Fighting France.88. Crile, A Mechanistic View of War and Peace.89. Eleanor M. Sidgwick, The Morality of Strife in Relation to the War. (The International Crisis.)90. G. Murray, Herd Instinct and the War. (The International Crisis.)91. Bosanquet, Patriotism in the Perfect State. (The International Crisis.)92. A.G. Bradley, International Morality. (The International Crisis.)93. L.P. Jacks, The Changing Mind of a Nation at War. (The International Crisis.)94. G.F. Stout, War and Hatred. (The International Crisis.)95. E. Mach, What Germany Wants.96. F. Peil, Der Weltkrieg.97. T. Veblen, The Nature of Peace.98. Hirschfeld, Kriegsbiologisches.99. H.A. Gibbons, The New Map of Europe.100. F.C. Howe, Why War?
1. A.W. Small, General Sociology.
2. C. Andler, Frightfulness in Theory and Practice.
3. W.E. Walling, The Sociologists and the War.
4. H. Hauser, Germany's Commercial Grip of the World.
5. J.F. O'Ryan and W.D.A. Anderson, The Modern Army in Action.
6. R. Dunn, Five Fronts.
7. Mrs. Henry Hobhouse, I Appeal Unto Cæsar.
8. F.H. Giddings, The Western Hemisphere in the World of To-morrow.
9. O.H. Kahn, Prussianized Germany.
10. C. Mitchell, Evolution, and the War.
11. A. Wehrmann, Deutsche Aufsaetze Ueber den Weltkrieg, etc.
12. J.P. Bang, Hurrah and Hallelujah.
13. E. Boutroux, Philosophy and the War.
14. M.A. Morrison, Sidelights on Germany.
15. R. Lehmann, Was Ist Deutsch? (In Vom kommenden Frieden.)
16. Durkheim, Germany Over All.
17. H. Bergson, The Meaning of the War.
18. J. Burnet, Higher Education and the War.
19. C.L. Drawbridge, The War and Religious Ideals.
20. M. Dide, Les Emotions et la Guerre.
21. D.G. Brinton, The Basis of Social Relations.
22. Ernesta R. Bullitt, An Uncensored Diary from the Central Empires.
23. Hundert Briefe Aus dem Felde.
24. Mrs. Denis O'Sullivan, Harry Butters "An American Citizen."
25. W. Irwin, Men, Women and War.
26. G. Roethe, Von Deutscher Art and Kultur.
27. J.W. Gerard, My Four Years in Germany.
28. W.R. Roberts, Patriotic Poetry: Greek and English.
29. Schmitz, Das Wirkliche Deutschland.
30. Redier, Comrades in Courage.
31. Igglesden, Out There.
32. Madame Lucy Hoesch-Ernst, Patriotismus und Patriotitis.
33. W.E. Ritter, War, Science and Civilization.
34. Hobhouse, The World in Conflict.
35. G.S. Fullerton, Germany of To-day.
36. A. Pinchot, War and the King Trust.
37. J.T. MacCurdy, The Psychology of War.
38. E.L. Fox, Behind the Scenes in Warring Germany.
39. J. Chapman, Deutschland Ueber Alles.
40. G. Blondel, Les Embarras de l'Allemagne.
41. P. Bigelow, The German Emperor and His Eastern Neighbors.
42. G. Le Bon, The Psychology of the Great War.
43. T.A. Cook, Kultur and Catastrophe.
44. Cheradame, The German Plot Unmasked.
45. J.B. Booth, The Gentle Cultured German.
46. J. Claes, The German Mole.
47. T.F.A. Smith, The Soul of Germany.
48. W.N. Willis, What Germany Wants.
49. Hintze, The Meaning of the War. (Modern Germany.)
50. Zitelmann, The War and International Law. (Modern Germany.)
51. Schmoller, Origin and Nature of German Institutions. (Modern Germany.)
52. Hintze, Germany and the World Powers. (Modern Germany.)
53. F. Meinecke, Kultur Policy of Power and Militarism. (Modern Germany.)
54. O.G. Villard, Germany Embattled.
55. E.J. Dillon, Ourselves and Germany.
56. R. MacFall, Germany at Bay.
57. C. Tower, Changing Germany.
58. W.R. Thayer, Germany vs. Civilization.
59. Lamprecht, What Is History?
60. B.T. Curtin, The Land of Deepening Shadows.
61. P. Bigelow, Prussian Memories.
62. E. Troeltsch, The Spirit of German Kultur. (Modern Germany.)
63. A. Guilland, Modern Germany and Her Historians.
64. T.F.A. Smith, What Germany Thinks.
65. Von Bülow, Imperial Germany.
66. J.A. Cramb, Germany and England.
67. G. Bourdon, The German Enigma.
68. P. Collier, Germany and Germans.
69. H.B. Swope, Inside the German Empire.
70. Sumner, Folkways.
71. J. Novicow, Les Luttes Entre Sociétes Humaines en Leur Phases Successives.
72. H. Gibson, A Journal from Our Legation in Belgium.
73. A.M. Pooley, Japan at the Cross-Roads.
74. F.J. Adkins, The War.
75. H.E. Powers, The Things Men Fight For.
76. J. M'Cabe, The Soul of Europe.
77. Scheler, Der Genius des Krieges und der Deutsche Krieg.
78. S. Freud, Reflections on War and Death.
79. Nicolai, Die Biologie des Krieges.
80. P. Gibbs, The Soul of the War.
81. T. Roosevelt, America and the World War.
82. W. Trotter, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War.
83. J. Novicow, Der Krieg und Seine Angeblichen Wohltaten.
84. G.R.S. Taylor, The Psychology of the Great War.
85. W. Wundt, Die Nationen und Ihre Philosophie.
86. Nusbaum, Der Krieg im Lichte der Biologie.
87. Edith Wharton, Fighting France.
88. Crile, A Mechanistic View of War and Peace.
89. Eleanor M. Sidgwick, The Morality of Strife in Relation to the War. (The International Crisis.)
90. G. Murray, Herd Instinct and the War. (The International Crisis.)
91. Bosanquet, Patriotism in the Perfect State. (The International Crisis.)
92. A.G. Bradley, International Morality. (The International Crisis.)
93. L.P. Jacks, The Changing Mind of a Nation at War. (The International Crisis.)
94. G.F. Stout, War and Hatred. (The International Crisis.)
95. E. Mach, What Germany Wants.
96. F. Peil, Der Weltkrieg.
97. T. Veblen, The Nature of Peace.
98. Hirschfeld, Kriegsbiologisches.
99. H.A. Gibbons, The New Map of Europe.
100. F.C. Howe, Why War?