Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/geneticphilosophOOpart GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION BY THE SAME AUTHOR AN OUTLINE OF INDIVIDUAL STUDY 12 mo. cloth, $1.25 net. A manual of methods for the study of the human individual THE NERVOUS LIFE 12 mo. cloth, $1.00 net, A study of the causes of nerve dis- orders, and rational methods of controlling them. 171 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION AN EPITOME OF THE PUBLISHED EDUCATIONAL WRITINGS OF PRESIDENT G. STANLEY HALL OF CLARK UNIVERSITY BY G. E. PARTRIDGE, Ph.D. FORMERLY LECTURER IN CLARK UNIVERSITY WITH AN INTRODUCTORY NOTE BY PRESIDENT HALL IFtew J^orft STURGIS & WALTON COMPANY 1912 V ^ Copyright 1912 By STURGIS & WALTON COMPANY Set up and electrotyped. Published May, 1912 £"C'A31G010 PREFACE In this book I have tried to present, for students and all interested in education, the main teachings of the genetic school as these are formulated in the writings of its most enthusiastic and strongest repre- sentative, indeed we may say its creator,. President G. Stanley Hall, of Clark University. In a word, my book is an epitome of the published writings of Presi- dent Hall, and is solely that. I have added nothing I have not found in his writings, and I have drawn from no other sources. 1 ) Though the influence of his work, which I think we may justly claim to be the most important contribution of all times to the phi- losophy of education, has now been felt in every de- partment of the school system, and in all fields of activity, in which human welfare is an ideal, both at home and abroad, this philosophy as a whole seems still inaccessible to a great many who need to have it in a simple and comprehensive form. CAt the close of 1909 President Hall's collected works included two hundred and ninety-five titles of books and articles, almost all bearing upon the subject of education. 1 Aside from the quantity of this material, its style and the great variety of publications in which the articles 1 My review has included all that had been published at the close of 1911. v vi PREFACE are to be found interpose obstacles both to the inter- ested reader who is not a specialist, and also to such a task as mine. I cannot hope to have included in a single small volume everything important to educa- tional theory contained in these writings. I have tried merely to trace the main thread of the argument, and to show the applications of the genetic view of the problems of education in such a way that anyone willing to follow closely a condensed outline, without the help of much illustration and elucidation, can readily understand. I am quite conscious of failing to convey adequately the scope of the contributions of Dr. Hall to the great themes of feeling, morals, religion, and the motor life, to the educational aspects of which I believe he has brought greater light than any other man : and especially it would be a matter of regret if I have given the impression, either that here is a closed system of thought which we may now proceed to teach, or that the last word of the thinker whom I have tried to represent has been spoken. On many of the most important themes we may still ex- pect new thoughts from him which cannot fail still further to broaden our conceptions of education. I re- gret, too, that the style and persuasiveness, and the richness of content and illustration that characterises all the writings of Dr. Hall have, of necessity, been al- most lost in so brief a review. All I can hope is that nothing essential of the argument nor of the more general applications of the genetic principles has es- caped me, and I think there has not. My work is an introduction rather than a summary. Many of the PREFACE vii articles should be read by every student, and no one can claim to be informed about education until he has read and studied at least the two larger works of President Hall: Adolescence and Educational Prob- lems. It is difficult to explain precisely how the materials have been treated, since no uniform method has been adhered to. Often I have merely condensed, some- times I have quoted, but more often I have told in my own words the main point of a discussion. I have tried to bring to the topic in hand all that I could find, without regard to the order in which it appeared in the original. Such a method makes it difficult to refer each statement and paragraph to its sources, so I have merely indicated by references the main articles bearing upon the topic of each section. In Chapter VIII, more than elsewhere, I have felt the need of explaining in my own words the principles of the genetic education. Here I have departed most from the originals, and presumably have sacrificed most for the sake of brevity. The general arrangement is entirely a choice of my own, and is made both to facilitate the practical use of the genetic philosophy, by student and teacher, and also to try to suggest the cogency and order of it by throwing its main features into sharp relief in a systematic presentation. Several possible arrangements suggested themselves, each, including the one I adopted, having limitations. The plan chosen is to show the genetic theory at work, so to speak, within three groups of problems which all together make up the main or central themes of edu- viii PREFACE cation. The first part contains the philosophical, biological, and psychological bases of the educational theory: those general principles of the sciences of human nature upon which education must rest. The second part presents the principles of education, un- derstood as the whole process of conscious evolution and the effect of environment generally — principles applicable, therefore, not only to the school, but to the home, and to all other institutions that control the child. The third part indicates the application of these principles to the departments and problems of the school. Part IV contains special chapters upon religious institutions, the education of women, and racial pedagogy. Such repetition as this arrangement involves seems to be advantageous, both in enforcing the main principles upon which education rests, and also in making a clear statement upon each topic. All must admit that there is a lack at the present time, at least among the rank and file of teachers, and in the public mind generally, of any adequate philoso- phy of education, or even of a point of view from which the themes of school and home can be dis- cussed broadly and intelligently. The older philoso- phies of Froebel, Hegel, and Herbart are certainly in- sufficient to meet present needs, and especially in the training of teachers is this painfully felt. They are not only obscure, and little inspiring, either of breadth of thought or intelligent practice, but they fail en- tirely to connect with the teacher's daily life, unless they be taught in a very shallow and formal way. The question now arises whether, in the new genetic PREFACE ix theory of education, we have not already a much more suitable philosophy for the school and the home. No one would maintain that we have in it a completed system of thought, and indeed the fundamental prin- ciple of the theory itself denies such a possibility, but at least it can be claimed that the evolutionary philosophy has now made a first survey of all the main problems of education, and that a far better phi- losophy for the teacher has been produced than has ever before been offered to him. It has the great advantage of pertaining to the same world as that in which the practical worker lives and thinks ; it touches his experi- ence and demands of him a kind of thought in which he is already at home. It asks him to consider child- hood, his own childhood, in the light of the whole past and future of the race — a broad programme, to be sure, but one that is not out of the reach of the ordinary mind, even though it be quite incapable of rigid philosophic thinking. The genetic view is thus helpfully democratic. It stands for an interpretation of the common facts of everyday life. It gives an honourable place, in the search for truth, to feelings that all have and can understand, and to common sense. It is thus one aspect of the pragmatic wave which has lately inundated even the higher places of philosophy, and the study of education from the genetic point of view becomes one of the best introductions to the new humanism, and to all the more special branches of philosophy. Its central principle is in- deed that very doctrine upon which all pragmatism is based — that it is in terms of man's practical inter- x PREFACE ests that all theoretical problems are finally to be judged, and all human institutions appraised. If the centre of the training of teachers were in the schoolroom, where it should be, ideal conditions would be obtained for the teaching of just such a philosophy of education as the genetic view contains. The stu- dent would soon see that, though common sense and instinct are the corner-stones of his art, they are not the whole structure. Questions would arise demand- ing answers that can be learned only by a broad study of childhood and interpretation of it in the light of science. From such a quest the student would return to his practical task with enlarged views of both the theory and the practice of it, only to find that there are still deeper problems. It is by such a natural dialectic that the thoughtful teacher broadens out until he comes at last into contact with, and can absorb and utilise, that outer circle of scientific knowledge and reason that we may justly call a philosophy of education — those principles which represent the deep- est interpretation of life of which one is capable. That the genetic or evolutionary philosophy is pre- cisely the science of life and philosophy which must be the farthest vision of the great number of practical workers in every department of life, can well be claimed. If this philosophy need examination and searching criticism in the light of more fundamental principles, it is certainly no part of the work of the practical educator to undertake it. The genetic philosophy of education, moreover, is not for the teacher alone ; it is also an ideal philosophy PREFACE xi of parenthood and the home. School and home are here seen united in a common work, guided by com- mon principles. The time is fast coming when no parent can be fully competent to train his child in the home unless he understand the thought that is direct- ing the school. The genetic philosophy is becoming a common fund of knowledge for teacher and parent for it is the doctrine of the development of the whole individual under the influence and guidance of all the forces, inner and outer, which affect him, no one of which can be understood fully without reference to the others. Though this book is intended especially for the student and amateur worker in educational theory, I should like to think that, as a result of it, some others — philosophers and experts — would feel disposed to bestow upon the evolutionary philosophy of education more searching criticism than they have hitherto given it. Here is at least the richest mine of practical prin- ciples which education has ever had the good fortune to fall heir to. Were they wrong throughout, they would still be justified by their effect in stimulating thought, as they do, upon every important topic in the whole field. Children, it seems, must be educated in any case, whether we have a philosophy or not. We have never yet come to the point, in education, where our fundamental principles can rest securely upon science or philosophy. Perhaps we never shall. But certainly science and philosophy are needed, and any philosophy that holds out hope even of practical as- xii PREFACE sistance for a time deserves a hearing, whether it be fundamental and logically coherent or not. But need we always remain without a foundation for educa- tion which shall satisfy, not only practical needs of the day, but all the demands of reason as well? Phi- losophers have held themselves aloof too much from the problems of the social life, business, and educa- tion, being willing to leave them to empiricists and practical people who do not demand consistency in their thought, and who are not afraid to proceed with faith rather than reason as their guide. But, at the present time, especially with the encouragement of the pragmatic and humanistic fashions in thought, should not philosophers, as well as scientists in special fields, attempt to bring the new education into line with their first principles, or perhaps broaden and re- adjust their principles to accommodate the new edu- cation? We have had much discussion of the limits and meaning of evolution from the standpoint of crit- ical philosophy. Is not a wider field opened up by the genetic theory of education and the applications to practise which it seems to warrant? Are such prin- ciples as recapitulation, and the maxims that are drawn from it, ultimate? Do they stand alone, or do they come within the sphere of a more radical philosophy? Do we look rightly to philosophy to clarify such questions as specialisation, social serv- ice as opposed to the perfection of the individual, social force as antagonistic to nature, the conflict of reason and feeling, the place of aesthetic feelings in education? All these questions, so earnestly raised PREFACE xiii by the genetic theory, and perhaps solved, yet de- mand criticism from every point of view. Here, if anywhere, academic philosophy may show its use- fulness for practical life, for to answer the questions we raise is merely to become clear upon the funda- mental principles of conduct, knowledge, the aesthetic, society, and nature. We can maintain that no philoso- phy in the past has thrown much light upon education. Is this limitation inherent in philosophy, or is it due to the fact that education has never yet presented to philosophy either sufficiently earnest problems or a broad enough gathering of data, to stimulate its inter- est and afford scope for its method ? A more intimate relation, at the present time, between philosophy and education, however meagre the immediate results might be, could not fail, it would seem, to benefit both. During the year or more this book has been in prepa- ration I have incurred obligations that demand at the least a word of record. To my wife I owe so much that to mention merely many hours of assistance with troublesome questions of diction seems a singularly inadequate acknowledgment of her devotion to all my tasks. To President Hall I am deeply grateful for his hearty assurance of good-will when the work was first proposed and for prompt aid, on his busy days, when I needed help. To Dr. Louis N. Wilson, chief of that unequalled place of books, the Clark University Library, and to his staff, a word of thanks can hardly indicate, I am sure, my sense of debt for unwearied searching of files that my work might be easier. To xiv PREFACE Mr. Robert K. Shaw of the Worcester Free Public Li- brary, whose friendly interest and liberality made a per- plexing part easy, I have again, as many times before, become a debtor. To other friends, especially to Mr. and Mrs. George Franklin Cole of Worcester, and Mrs. Walter Drew Loring of Boston, I owe much that cannot easily be expressed — most of all for the good-cheer that lands and seas did not bar. And last, to my little daughter, Miriam, whose willing feet have sped so many miles for me during months of my illness, my most loving gratitude is due. G. E. Partridge. Worcester, January 16, 19 12. INTRODUCTORY NOTE Dr. George E. Partridge, the author of this work, was for some years my student and for many more has been my neighbour and friend. The proposition to epitomise my own views was his, but had I been moved to select someone for this purpose, I can think of no one I should have preferred to him. As I have read over these pages, I have had several pleasant sur- prises. One was to realise that the various partial views I have expressed at various times and places were capable of being mosaiced together into so re- spectable a whole as the author makes out of them in the first part of this book. Again, I have been sur- prised to see how well acquainted Dr. Partridge has made himself with even my smaller and more obscure articles and brought them into their place, and again, I have been pleased to recognise the wisdom of his judgment in sometimes retaining my own phraseology and often improving on it by briefer and simpler forms of expression. There seems under the circum- stances that there is little else left for me to say in an introduction, except the above testimony to the general ability and fidelity of the representation and to this I very gladly bear witness. G. Stanley Hall. Clark University, Worcester, Mass. Jan. 12, 1912. xv CONTENTS INTRODUCTION BY G. STANLEY HALL PART I PHILOSOPHICAL, BIOLOGICAL, AND PSYCHOLOGICAL FOUNDATIONS OF EDUCATION CHAPTER PAGE I What is Education? 3 II The Philosophical Basis of Education . . 7 III Biological Psychology 14 IV The Fundamental Principles of Genetic Psy- chology 20 V Instincts and Feelings 32 VI The Intellect 59 VII Developmental Stages 72. PART II general principles of education VIII General Principles of Education . ... 91 IX Physical and Industrial Education . . . 122 X Education of the Emotions 152 XI Moral Education 167 XII Religious Education 181 XIII The Training of the Intellect 192 XIV Educational Periods 205 CONTENTS PART III THE SCHOOL SYSTEM CHAPTER PAGE XV The School System 219 XVI The Vernacular 229 XVII Foreign Languages 246 XVIII Natural Sciences . . . 251 XIX Elementary Mathematics 260 XX History 266 XXI Music and Dancing 272 XXII Drawing and Art 287 XXIII Philosophy in the College 295 XXIV The Kindergarten 303 XXV The School Grades 310 XXVI The High School 314 XXVII The College 323 XXVIII The University 332 XXIX The Training of Teachers 337 PART IV special problems XXX Religious Institutions 349 XXXI The Education of Girls 359 XXXII Racial Pedagogy 376 Bibliography 383 PART I PHILOSOPHICAL, BIOLOGICAL, AND PSY- CHOLOGICAL FOUNDATIONS OF EDUCATION CHAPTER I WHAT IS EDUCATION? Education may be defined, in one sense, as the whole effect of environment. The individual is in some way affected by everything with which he comes into contact, from the first moment of life until the end. Teaching and all other conscious efforts to shape the course of development are parts of a larger whole, the nature and laws of which must be taken into ac- count in any adequate study of education. The pur- pose of teaching, thus considered, becomes plain. It is a factor in evolution : like natural selection, sexual selection, adaptation, it is a means of carrying on the development of the individual, and the evolution of the race, to a higher level. Man is as yet incomplete ; it is likely that all his best experiences still lie before him. He may indeed be only at the beginning of a career, the end of which we cannot foresee. If this be true, the function of the present generation is to prepare for the next step. It must so live that it may become the best possible transmitter of heredity, and to the greatest degree of which it is capable, it must add to the equipment of the new generation. The efficiency with which these functions are performed is the test of the value of society, of education, and 3 4 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION of all public institutions and private morality. All are best judged according to the service they perform in advancing the interests of mankind. Immediately the old ethical problem of the conflict between self-interest and service comes to light. Is life devoted to the welfare of humanity entirely a life of self-sacrifice? What place is there in such an ideal for the private interests of the individual? We shall find that, on the evolutionary view, the welfare of the individual corresponds, in great measure, to that of the race, but that beyond this common good there is a sphere of self-interest, to live in which is to rob the future of its rights. It is the problem of education to develop the individual to precisely that stage of completeness at which he can most successfully live in the service of humanity, and at the same time enjoy a normal healthy life; and so to inspire the young with love for humanity, and so to educate their instincts and ideals that, when the rights of the in- dividual and of the race come into conflict, the right of the race shall always be given precedence. Edu- cation of the young, thus understood, is plainly not only the most moral and vital work we do, but the most inclusive; for in a sense it involves all other practical activities. Nothing else requires so profound knowledge, nor so earnest thought, as the training of the child. If this be a just valuation of the function of teach- ing, it is obvious. that a science of education cannot be derived from any single principle, nor philosophy, nor science, however broad these may be. All WHAT IS EDUCATION? 5 sciences, as well as all practical activities, must con- tribute, directly or indirectly, to the education of the young; and if they do not, they fail, by the criterion of value just declared, to have deep worth for life in any way. To understand fully what education means, to take an intelligent part in it, demands, therefore, a knowledge of many fields of human thought and ac- tion, and the most serious purposes we can bring to any work. Too often theorists have tried to derive the prin- ciples of education from systems of philosophy, ap- plying one or a few barren formulas to all problems. Naturally the teaching that has followed such phi- losophy has been narrow, schematic, and formal. Educational theory is too comprehensive, it lies too near to all the concrete, practical interests of life to be thus abstractly treated. And yet, for that very reason — because of the breadth and depth of the in- terests involved in education — some ultimate philos- ophy must play a part in it. In every deep purpose in life we act, consciously or unconsciously, upon be- liefs beyond which we cannot go: upon affirmations which constitute for us our philosophy. In the same way education must assume or discover principles which shall represent the deepest and fullest meaning of the world, and this must be the foundation of all its thought and effort. The philosophy of the past, we say, has been too abstract, too formal, too far re- moved from practical life to meet the needs of so vast and changing a demand as the education of the child. Its chief service has been to the sciences that 6 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION analyse experience, that try to sum up the past of the world, rather than to those that aim to forecast and direct the future. It has not stood well the test of ability to inspire youth with zeal, nor of stimulating effective and wholesome methods of training them — functions which a true philosophy, if it aspire to become a philosophy of education, must certainly per- form. Therefore we look to new and untried philoso- phies for our first principles of education. References. — See page 13, CHAPTER II THE PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF EDUCATION A true philosophy, whatever else its purpose or merits, must bear the tests, both of inspiring youth with right attitudes toward life, and of inculcating correct views of education throughout society. It must be a body of principles capable of furnishing deep and wholesome motives and beliefs to teacher and parent, and it must be a creed suited to the needs of effective, practical living. In a word, a philosophy, to be true, must do more than merely hold together logically. It must have practical bearings. It must not merely dictate to conduct; it must also serve. In a very deep sense, it is quite as reasonable to say that philoso- phy is based upon education, as that education is based upon philosophy. Philosophy grows out of life, as its broadest and deepest meaning, formulated by the same powers of heart and mind that we apply to our other tasks. Only as such a sum of wisdom has it a right to dictate either to reason or to conduct. The tests through which a philosophy must pass be- fore it can be judged true are, therefore, many and severe. It must first of all be optimistic, pointing always toward the future rather than the past. It must grow out of, and be in harmony with, instincts 7 8 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION and feelings. It must agree with common sense, with sight and touch, and with all the realities of life. It must find a place for the facts of the physical sciences, and also for the truths of the world of ideals and im- agination. Above all, it must inspire the young to activity, and to a love of knowledge. These tests require that philosophy shall present the world to the mind as real — as doubly real. It is so for life ; it must remain so in philosophy. We live in a world of physical facts, laws, and things. It is also a world of spiritual things, of things imagined rather than known, believed rather than proved. A true philosophy must stimulate the mind to live in both these worlds; to enjoy them, to believe in their reality. If philosophy merely substitutes for concrete experiences the intellectual effort completely to har- monise the world to the reason, it is wrong, for then it fails to make all of reality seem real. Thinking is not the only, nor the surest;, road to truth. The in- tellect is at best a superficial part of the mind. Ex- cessive analysis, introspection, and criticism is mor- bid. It can give us but a narrow view of reality, and can not alone reach the eternal verities. Reasoned philosophies and theologies pass away, "but the deeper philosophy of poetry, folklore, belief — all that which comes from the heart — endures. All the great veri- ties, religious and ethical, are formulations of the feel- ings — things believed rather than known or proved; truths that cannot be reached by argument nor demon- stration. Any philosophy that fails to make youth enthusiastic ' THE BASIS OF EDUCATION 9 in the right way; that fails to create interest in re- alities; that makes youth pessimistic or blase; that arouses intellect more than feeling; that breeds fa- miliarity with the universe, destroying wholesome awe and wonder, is wrong. It is wrong because it will not pass the profoundest test we have — fitness to lead men to the fullest enjoyment of a normal life of ac- tivity and interest in the future. The intellect has no higher claims to judge truth than these immediate feelings — nor so high — for it represents the indi- vidual alone, while the feelings are racial, and reveal to us truths larger than the self. All thought must eventually be brought to this test. Everything that claims to be thought good, beautiful, or true, must pass the censorship of our practical judgments. Any- thing that offends our deepest instincts as teachers and parents, or that is seen to be unfit to teach to youth, cannot be called true in the deepest sense. No philosophy can be said to be proved valid until it is seen what it can do, directly or indirectly, for the coming generation. It is in this sense that it has been said that philosophy is dependent upon educa- tion. All truth has work to do, and its function is to guide and direct experience. Truth is therefore, in its last analysis, a tool of evolution — a part of the whole device we call education. Thought and action are mutually dependent. No system of truth can be reasoned out, from which alone practical rules of con- duct can be derived. And no practical activity can be wholly right unless it has broadened out its grasp to include the deepest meaning of life, io GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION Judged by such standards as these much of the phi- losophy of the present day, taught in the colleges, is found wanting. Much of it is merely critical, and ends in negation rather than in belief or affirmation. It is too rational ; too analytic. It leads away from ac- tion, and not toward it. It is too likely to destroy the love of positive science, and to substitute for the natural tests of truth, artificial and shallow first prin- ciples and formulas. From it little can be derived that is helpful in education, and in no sense can we say that the rules of the art of teaching can be de- duced from such truth. Applying all these tests of truth to the facts of ex- perience, and now understanding precisely in what sense a philosophy can be said to be a foundation for educational theory, what are the most general, most real, or most true realities and principles — the eternal verities beyond which the mind cannot go, but which it must accept as a basis, or point of departure, for all thought and action? It is not to be expected that these will be demonstrated, that they will be brought into a system completely harmonious from a logical standpoint, but rather they must satisfy moral needs, common sense, and instinct, and must square with the facts of science. The most immediately and certainly known thing in the universe is space. It is the first element. It is infinite, a perfect continuum, that in which everything else exists — whether God, matter, or soul. Nothing can be more real nor more unanalysable. It needs no proof, and the belief in it cannot be uprooted by THE BASIS OF EDUCATION n any demonstration. The mind should rest on this be- lief, and all efforts to derive space, and to spin it out of consciousness, as is so often tried in philosophy, are perverted and wasted. Wherever we look, we find that space is occupied. The world is full to the brim of something, which, by the help of modern physics, we know to be ether. Ether is everywhere, the basis of all that is real. The contemplation of it gives a sense of warmth and near- ness, though our senses can grasp but an infinitesimal part of its reality. This substance existing in infinite space, and filling it with reality, is the basic material of the universe. The world substance, however, does not merely exist in space. It has power or energy. Substance pre- sents itself to us in motion, accomplishing work so vast in extent that we cannot comprehend it. But when we interpret it as will, and think of it as effort behind the doings of nature, our feeling of kinship with the universal power grows, though what this force is, which is everywhere at work, we cannot know. Great as this power is, and so unfathomable in its nature, it is not a capricious and whimsical monster, but is subject to eternal laws. Every advance in the physical sciences confirms us in our belief that the universe is lawful through and through. And our daily experiences, as we carry on our activities in the complex but still orderly texture of society, add to our conviction that even the remotest part of the universe and the least comprehensible act are lawful 12 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION and orderly. Discovery of the lawfulness of the uni- verse enables us to live in a feeling of security, with the belief that our previsions will not be futile, and that we are guided and supported in a universe that is controlled throughout by law, reason, and cause, and is working with the regularity of a machine. But the universe is not merely a machine, governed by law and order. We see that it everywhere abounds in life — so exuberant and overflowing that the whole world seems animated. Every creature is driven by a will to live and to enjoy an ever higher and fuller life, and this seems to be the expression of a great fundamental purpose in the world. Last, is the principle of evolution. The course of change is upward. The best survive, and the weak and ineffective go to the wall. There is everywhere advance and improvement, and the field of pleasure is ever widening. The principle of growth is benign, and the evidence is borne in on us from every hand that good-will and beneficence are at the root of all things — that a power exists that is friendly to man and takes an interest in his welfare ; that it is good to be alive. Such a philosophy rests upon the evidence of the senses, upon common sense, and upon the facts of science. It bears the test of ability to inspire youth with the right attitudes toward life. It is a philosophy of optimism and progress, suited to be a guide in a sane and strenuous life. It can well serve, therefore, as a background of thought, belief, or affirmation upon which a science of education may rest ? not in the; THE BASIS OF EDUCATION 13 sense that it may be derived from these principles, but that it shall include in its teachings such an atti- tude toward reality as a whole. References. — 8, 60, 116, 196, 284. See page 383. CHAPTER III BIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY Having found that certain principles of science and philosophy satisfy deep needs of thought and life, the business of a philosophy of education is not so much to subject them to searching doubt and criticism, and to follow out their implications with logical precision, as to carry them forward to a study of the growing child, in the most comprehensive manner possible. The exact limits of each science will not greatly in- terest it, but the aim will be to seek truth wherever it may be found. Its centre, it seems reasonable to assume, will be psychology, for it is most directly upon the mind of the child that we bring our efforts to bear. The ideal of the new psychology, based upon the dictum, No psychosis without neurosis, has been to discover for each mental state and process an equiva- lent or correlate in the body or in nature. This is the main problem of physiological psychology, of psy- cho-physics, and of the experimental methods gen- erally. The point of view is good, so far as it goes, but it is still a narrow conception of the province of a science of mind. A far more fruitful method is opened to it by the principle introduced into biology 14 BIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY, 15 by Charles Darwin. Not only does it reveal a pro- gramme of more important and more far-reaching work than the study in the laboratory, but it sug- gests the means of a truer interpretation of all the facts. Such a science is entitled to the name of Biological Philosophy ; for it extends its problems from the study of the merely individual mental proc- esses of the adult, to the study of all mind, past, pres- ent, and future, in whatever form it appears ; and its interpretation passes from the physiological explana- tion of mental states to the biological. The fundamental fact and principle of this biologi- cal philosophy is that mind and body have evolved together in the race, and have developed together in the individual, in one continuous process. Not only, therefore, must all mental facts be understood in terms of, or with reference to, physical facts, but the individual, both in his mental and physical aspects, must be studied in relation to the whole history of the race. This evolutionary principle must be ap- plied to all problems of psychology, until we have a complete natural history of the mind. Psychology must deal with facts, and not, as in the past, with ul- timate principles. Its field is the study of all ex- pressions of mind, all actions and institutions that are its products, including the instincts of animals, myths, customs and beliefs of primitive man, reflex and automatic movements, disease and abnormalities. This new method and problem in psychology, taken in its widest sense, may be called the genetic. It aims to explain whatever process or state it observes by 16 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION tracing it, in all its connections, to its origin. To understand any trait of the human mind, for ex- ample, it is necessary to discover not only the relation of the mental process to the changes in the nervous system upon which it depends, and to analyse the process into its elements, but we must know the genesis of the trait in the individual, both in its physical and its mental manifestations and connections, and also the whole history of it as it appears in the race. This is an ideal not to be attained in any problem at the present time, but it must constantly be striven toward in every investigation of the facts of human life. The genetic method has, therefore, two main branches : the study of mind in its development in the child, and the study of mind in its evolution in the race. No problem can be regarded as deeply understood that does not take into account both these aspects. This is precisely the kind of psychology that is of most interest to a science of education, which of necessity is concerned with the facts about childhood and their interpretation or meaning. It is astonish- ing that not until our own day has psychology under- taken to study childhood, since in the child all the fundamental traits of human life may be observed, in a simple and natural form. Here we may study in the spirit in which the naturalist investigates, ap- plying similar methods to securing facts, and de- riving principles from them inductively. New as this genetic method is, it is so fruitful that it has already ac- complished much both for science and the practical life. It has helped to solve problems of philosophy and BIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 17 psychology; has contributed to the science of religion some of the most important principles; and has sug- gested the outlines of a whole theory of life, truly in accord with the doctrines of modern science. There are many ways of applying the methods of genetic study, in detail, to the problems of life, and even within the limited field of child-study there are several distinct types of investigation. Childhood may be studied stage by stage; one child may be studied in detail; or a special topic may be studied, collecting facts from many individuals. Some of the work is experimental; some is purely observational. One method, that of the syllabus, or questionnaire, particularly represents the spirit of the genetic method. By this means data can be collected from a great number of individuals, of different ages, en- abling the investigator to form a picture, as it were, of the whole course of development of a trait, in all its varieties. This is strikingly in contrast with the older introspective or analytic methods, which tried to analyse a mental state or process as it appeared in the mind of one individual. This method of the syllabus has already been applied to a great number of topics, including problems of the feelings, language, social activity, religious life, and many others. Regarded as the study of mind in all its manifesta- tions and expressions, psychology must be looked upon as at the very beginning, and not the end, of its career. Not only have many of its problems not been solved, but a great number have not even been 18 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION discovered. The work lies before it of recording and explaining all mental facts, both in the individual and in the race, and of recording the history of every mental trait. Such an outlook precludes entirely the possibility of final conclusions about most problems, for only a very small part of the necessary data are as yet gathered, and each year may witness the up- setting of our most cherished convictions, Psychology must be consistently inductive like the other nat- ural sciences. It must collect facts and base its con- clusions upon them. Especially all such problems as the nature of mind and matter must be left wide open. Both the physical and mental manifestations of reality must be studied in their relations to one another. We must assume, as a working hypothesis, that no mental state or process is without its con- comitant physical state or process; but that the two are identical, or if not, how one acts upon the other, we cannot know. Faith in science directs us to be- lieve that sometime these two series will be shown to be aspects of a higher substance or principle, in which both law and freedom, mind and matter, im- manence and transcendence will lose their partial as- pects and will appear as a whole. But for the present we must be content to work without conclusions. We must lay these questions aside, or adopt any hypoth- esis that leaves the mind free for enquiry. The psychologist must ever push out into new regions of fact, and not merely try to establish principles from the comparatively few facts we already have. Only in such a way can the sciences of human life become BIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY 19 broad enough to support the practical activities which must rest upon them — the greatest of which is edu- cation. See references at end of Chapter IV. CHAPTER IV THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF GENETIC PSY- CHOLOGY Genetic psychology assumes as an ultimate fact, and as a background for all its principles, an endless process of time, stretching out into an infinitely re- mote past and pointing toward an infinitely remote future. Every thing, and every event, must be re- garded as the completion of an infinitely long process of development, in terms of which it can be explained ; and also as germinal of a future, of which it is in turn to be the cause or genetic origin. Development and change are continuous and unbroken. Nothing is stationary, and man himself is in a stage of active evolution toward a higher form. Although his body seems, in many ways, to have reached its highest point of development, his mind continues to advance with ever greater acceleration. Changes in the industrial, the social, the moral, and the religious life were never so great as now. Precisely what the final result of this evolution of man is to produce in the universe, or even in what direction it is tending, it is quite im- possible for us to know, but there is every indication that man has not reached his final form, nor the perfection of which he is capable : that the best things 20 GENETIC PSYCHOLOGY 21 in his history have not yet happened. Nor can we know with any greater certainty what the future has in store for other races than our own, nor for animal forms, some of which may eventually go far beyond the present stage of the highest races of mankind, and take the place of the dominant forms of life, when these higher types shall have become decadent. Such is the conception of man that results from the work of Darwin. His mind is to be regarded as quite as much an offspring of animal life as is his body. The same principles may be applied to both, and both must be investigated by similar inductive methods. We can understand the mmd only in its development ; we shall know it completely only when we can de- scribe all its stages from the amoeba up. The emotions are best studied in their outward expression; will in behaviour; intelligence in sagacity, and not by the methods of the laboratory. What kind of a mind it is which thus presents itself for study, we can now see in a provisional way. It must not be regarded as a fixed, definite, and static thing, which we can fully understand by looking into its processes by introspection; for only the smallest part of its powers and meanings can thus be brought to light. The mind stretches far beyond the limited experiences of the individual. It contains within itself all the past and all the future. It has grown up in the race, step by step, and has passed through stages as different from its present form as we can possibly conceive. It is so vastly complex that it is never twice alike in the same individual, nor are ever 22 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION two minds the same. It is a product of millions of years of struggle. Its long experiences with light and darkness, and with heat and cold, have established many of its rhythms. A long apprenticeship in aquatic and arboreal life has left deep and indelible marks. Sky, wind, storm, flowers, animals, ancient industries and occupations, have directed its fears and affections, and have made the emotions what they now are. It has been shocked and moulded into its present form by labour and suffering, and it shows in every function the marks of the process through which it has passed. Although it is by far the most wonderful work of nature it is still very imperfect, full of scars and wounds, incompletely co-ordinated, and but poorly controlled ; in many ways ill-adapted to the practical situations of life. In it barbaric and animal impulses are still felt. Its old forms appear at every turn; and every trait of mind, as well as of body, is full of indications of its origin. So close, indeed, is the past to the present in all we think and feel, that without referring to what has gone before in the race, the human mind, as we know it, is utterly unintelligi- ble and mysterious; while many, if not most, of its mysteries become clear, when the mind is studied with reference to its past. This point of view is essential for any introduction into the science of psychology. Only thus may one grasp the significance of mind in the world, and be prepared to interpret the common facts of everyday life. One must see that only by studying mind ob- jectively, in its racial manifestations, and in many GENETIC PSYCHOLOGY 23 individuals, can any conception of its range, depth, and meaning be attained. An individual mind is but an infinitesimal fragment and expression of all the soul life in the world. The individual is imperfect, and limited in every way, hemmed in on every side, while the whole mind or soul is marvellously complex, efficient, and orderly. Mind must be thought of as much larger and richer than its expression in con- sciousness, either in the individual, or in the race. In fact its highest powers are those which spring from the depths of the unconscious, and go back to the ear- liest beginnings of the race. Consciousness does not reveal these powers. They lie below its threshold. They are expressed neither in conscious will nor in in- tellect. In these deepest regions of the mind both the past and the future are hidden. The impulses which move consciousness from behind the scenes, so to say, are indeed more truly parts of the soul life than are the conscious thoughts, because they direct the most important interests of life. Mind, therefore, may be thought of as akin to, or consisting of, all that force in living things that moves on to ever more complete form: a force which we can never find by introspection, for though in its essence purposeful, it is not contained in any consciousness. This force is the will to live, the moving force in all nature. In its activities all life is involved. Its movement is uninterrupted and continuous. Man, animals, plants, and perhaps all inanimate things participate in its progress. Thus life in all its forms, and mind itself, are indistinguishable in their essence, and though no 24 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION present theory can completely explain the manner in which development has taken place, nor how mind and life originated in the world, we can assume with all confidence that all growth is alike in nature. We must think of it as different in its manifestations here and there, but as always essentially the same. Whatever the mind or soul which we recognise in in- trospection may be, we must regard it as connected with all other soul life in the world. We must see that it is not only susceptible to all present influences, and responsive to every force in nature, but that it re-echoes with the reverberations from an immeasurable past, and is related in the most intimate ways to all mind, past, present, and future. The soul of the individual is no more a thing in itself, a unity, than is his body. It reflects the growth, not only of the brain, but of the whole body, and is connected in the most intricate ways, with all its states and changes. It has many powers, some more conscious, some less; some pro- gressing, some decaying. It, like the body, has sex; it is changeable and relative, a moving equilibrium of many parts, quite like the physical body in these re- spects. In it, from generation to generation, parts now become central, and are now submerged; what was conscious becomes instinctive or reflex. Many parts, once rudimentary, have now become dominant, and will in time, in their turn, become rudimentary or disappear, or be relegated to the region of the un- conscious. From this we can see that mind is a changing and passing thing, and that soul life is con- tinually lost to the world. Unnumbered types of mind GENETIC PSYCHOLOGY 25 have passed away in producing those which remain, and we can form but the dimmest conception of how the world must have appeared to most of the creatures which have inhabited it. Many of these lost species are in our own pedigree. We inherit the stored re- sults of their experience, and can perceive faintly what their lives must have been. In our own con- sciousness there are abundant traces of the far-away past. Our slightest experiences may often be ex- plained as the remnant of some great psychosis that has been lost; our fleeting fancies often afford us glimpses of life remote from our own. In all our higher thoughts and feelings the simpler and earlier is some- how represented. Much lies dormant in us, that is brought out only in unusual circumstances. We hold the inheritance of many ancestors, of many types of life which perhaps have taken out of the world the potency and promise of higher mental development than our own; and whose choicest possessions we have relegated to the unconscious and unused regions of mind. The evidence for the truth of such a conception of the mind and body of man is now so great, and so corroborative one part to another, that it is hardly possible to doubt it. Both mind and body are full of observable traces of their ancient origin, and al- though the offered explanation at any one point may seem doubtfully true, all together forms a chain of evidence that cannot be refuted. Physical evolution is now so well established that it needs no further proof. The body of man teems with proofs of his 26 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION connection with all other animal life. Especially in the embryonic stage is the evidence clear. The gill- slits, which are then produced, are in themselves al- most complete proof of the hypothesis of evolution. Yet one need not depend upon a single witness. Other organs, and both external and internal structure of the body, offer quite as strong testimony. Indeed there can be no reasonable explanation of the human body that does not assume as a first principle the relation of it, by evolution of the whole, to every other type of animal life; which does not assert that it contains relics of a past state, in which it differed greatly from its present form, and was similar, at many stages, to forms of animal life which still exist. Precisely the course man has taken in reaching his present station we may never know, but the fact that it was a long struggle upward from the most primitive forms, we may place at the head of our genetic science. The evidence that the mind as well as the body re- tains vestiges of the past is also now beyond dispute, though the evidence for mental evolution, from the very nature of mental states, is often less incisive than for the physical. Rudimentary psychoses are as evident as rudimentary organs. The study of nerv- ous diseases, such as epilepsy, brings to light the close connection between abnormality of mind and body, and the past. Human courtship, care of the young, crime, many phenomena of the hypnotic and hypnoid states, fears, subconscious habits, demand for their ex- planation an evolutionary theory. Many actions of the infant can be explained in no other way. Indeed the GENETIC PSYCHOLOGY 2J evidence is so strong at every point that we must accept the conclusion that the mind has evolved like the body, and that it still bears evidences of it in its present functions. Many traits of the human mind cannot be explained in any other way than as useful in the past, under conditions of life, and in bodily structures, that do not now exist. And indeed if we may be certain that man has evolved at all, and if his body may be seen to contain traces of the past, we should fully expect the mind to share in the posses- sion of these vestiges. There is no escape from this view, and we must accept the full consequences of it. We must see that mind and body alike are teeming with the traces of ancient life, both human and pre- human, knowledge of which is of the greatest impor- tance for a comprehension of the most common facts of daily life; and for education, and all other fields of conscious evolution. Thus far we have considered the mind and body with respect to their nature and contents. It is quite as important to understand them in what may be called their dynamic aspects, with reference to their development, both in the individual and the race, and to the relation of the two series, the ontogenetic and the phylogenetic, to one another. The discovery of the laws of development is one of the chief aims of genetic science, and in our practical science of man, we are most of all concerned with such prin- ciples. The most general formulation of all the facts of development that we yet possess is contained in the law of recapitulation. This law declares that the in- 28 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION dividual, in his development, passes through stages similar to those through which the race has passed, and in the same order; that the human individual of the higher races, for example, in the brief period from the earliest moment of life to maturity, passes through or represents all the stages of life, through which the race has passed from that of the single-celled animal to that of present adult civilised man. The recapitulatory process is sometimes obscured; stages overlap, or be- come dissociated; the individual must sometimes recount thousands of years of his racial history in a day or year ; environment complicates and modifies the process in ways still quite unknown; but in a general way the individual may be said to recapitulate the race. Functions and organs, both physical and mental — interests, habits, physical traits and forms — develop, flourish for a time, and then disappear, or are taken up into higher stages and are transformed, the lower seeming to serve as a stimulus for the next higher stage. The recapitulatory stages are best marked in the earliest periods of the embryonic life, when stages as wholes may be said to correspond with some fidelity to racial steps. In the later periods, they are more likely to appear as fragments, or as indications, in this or that function, of racial periods. In the embryonic stage, organs unquestionably con- nected with primitive life in the sea develop for a time, and are then transformed. The gill-slits may be mentioned as an example. Without this stage many of the higher organs would not appear, for out of the gill-slits important organs grow. From them GENETIC PSYCHOLOGY 29 arises the thymus gland ; the mouth is probably formed by a union of one pair of them, the olfactory organs from another pair ; the middle and outer parts of the ear from other parts. In early infancy there are traces of a stage of arboreal life, overlaid by later traits. The grasping movements of the infant, habits of climbing, and many physical traits, indicate that the infant is then passing through a stage of life, not un- like that still lived by our nearest relatives among the simians, and which exists in the child because our ancestors passed through such a stage. Later, the interests and habits of the child are distinctly akin to to those of primitive and savage man. Both in the life of feeling and of the intellect the child and the savage have much in common. Play shows the marks of racial steps ; for the child, quite of his own initiative, reproduces, in his free activities, many of the habits and traits of earlier stages of life than that into which he is born. The theory that play is practice for fu- ture occupation is, therefore, but a partial view. Play exploits the stages through which man has passed, and, in the play life of the child, instincts ripen and decay, and are superseded by others, in an order quite unintelligible, unless the law of recapitulation be in- voked to explain it. Even in the later periods of childhood the racial steps are by no means entirely broken up nor oblit- erated. The period from eight to twelve clearly sug- gests a well-defined concomitant stage in racial devel- opment. This period in the life of the child is, as it were, a culmination of one stage of development. The 3 o GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION child is then relatively well established in a habit of life which serves his needs admirably, and in which he appears well adjusted to his environment in every way. He suggests now a period in which the race was for a long time stable, living in a warm climate, having simple habits; when life was so simple and easy that the young matured early, and were able to leave the parental care and to shift for themselves. Following the period of stability, both in the in- dividual and in the race, is a very different stage. A new layer has been added, represented in the indi- vidual by adolescence, and in the race by all the higher stages of civilisation. In the individual, adolescence is marked by profound upheaval of all the elements of the mental life, by the sudden influx of new in- terests, deepened feelings, and a wider outlook upon life. New relations among the mental elements are established, and the mind seems to find a new centre. No one can maintain, however, that the parallel be- tween the individual and the race is as precise and definite as the law of recapitulation would of itself demand. Other laws must be at work according to which the mode of development of the individual is modified. The period of growth has gradually length- ened in the human species, so that, in succeeding gen- erations, the child tends to pass through longer and longer periods during which he is plastic to the in- fluence of his environment, and to his own nascent powers. His progress in one direction and another is now accelerated, now retarded. Many functions which, in the race, have followed physical maturity, GENETIC PSYCHOLOGY 31 now appear before the onset of puberty. At the time of adolescence, the child becomes especially susceptible to the effects of his environment, and now, while all the forces of civilisation are brought to bear upon him, he is carried for a time beyond the point of the pres- ent stage of civilisation, and becomes the promise of what the race may be in the future, when it shall be able to hold and organise the advance that adolescence points out. Growth, from this plastic period of adolescence on to maturity, is thus in a sense a fall from a higher state, for of many promises of the individual but few at the best can be fulfilled. Habit becomes hardened, interests are specialised and nar- rowed. This is the critical point, both for the indi- vidual and the race. If our species ever degenerate it will not be through lack of knowledge and culture, nor from relaxation of industries, but because of the progessive failure of youth to develop normally to maximal maturity. From this point of view the development of the child becomes one of the greatest scientific problems. We can say that childhood, left to itself, tends to re- capitulate the race. It is largely the traditions of the adult, and the influence of environment, and the ideals of the society into which the child is born which sup- press, modify and obliterate his inheritance, and ob- scure the recapitulatory steps. References. — 60, 76, 78, 92, 102, 105, 106, 109, no, 114, 117, 123, 127, 143, 188, 196, 208, 264, 275, 288. CHAPTER V INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS Psychology has hitherto given most attention to the so-called higher or intellectual processes, and has neglected the instincts and feelings, which, if the pres- ent point of view be correct, are vastly more impor- tant and fundamental. These elemental, racial, and hereditary parts of the mind are not only far greater in volume than thought, but their power in determining conduct outweighs the reason many fold. The feel- ings and instincts are the deepest parts of our nature, because they are racial. The study of them should come first in psychology, and should have the highest place. The intellect is more an individual problem, for it represents acquirement through environment. To attempt to define the feelings, to analyse them into their elements, or to classify them, or even to assign to them their physiological correlates, is less important, and less fruitful in every way than to study their origin and development and manifold manifesta- tions throughout animal life. They are immediately known to us, and no elaborate experimental methods are necessary to enable us to detect them. The more elemental the feeling, the more nearly universal and readily understood, the more important is its func- 32 INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 33 tion, and the greater the need of studying it in all its aspects. The most fruitful method of all, in the study of the feelings, is to trace their development in the young child. Data must be gathered from great num- bers of individuals, under different conditions of life, and finally all the evidence must be interpreted with reference to the appearance of the trait in question in all other types of life, animal and human, tracing it as far back in its history as possible, ascertaining what conditions in the environment have produced or perpetuated it. One fact may be regarded as established at the be- ginning. No emotional trait can be entirely explained by the experience of the individual who possesses it. All the deepest feelings and habits are inheritances from a past, sometimes inconceivably remote. Our feelings to-day are what they are, because, in the mind, there are remnants of older forms of life. We feel as we do toward many objects of nature because our ancestors thus regarded them or acted toward them. We do not remember this ancient life as we remember our own past experiences, but it stirs in us in all our fundamental attitudes and feelings, adding a momentum of interest or feeling which cannot be explained by reference to anything the individual has learned. We must assume that the effects of environ- ment and manner of life, during the millions of years our progenitors have lived upon the earth, have left traces in the nervous system which are inherited from generation to generation; which have accumulated, have become modified, utilised, or partly obliterated 34 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION in many ways; and which still appear, varying in degree and form, in each new individual. Whatever has affected the race deeply, whatever has been for a long time feared, or contended with, must thus have left its marks and have influenced inheritance. We must suppose that the deepest things in our own pres- ent experiences with nature, and in our social life, will in the same way reverberate in other races which shall be our descendants, perhaps millions of years to come. The evidence for such conclusions is now abundant, for in all studies of emotion and instinct that have been made by genetic and objective methods many facts have been brought to light, showing that the in- dividual is dominated in his behaviour by the racial traits, often to such an extent that he is but poorly adjusted to life in the present environment. He feels as his forebears felt in similar situations, millions of years ago — situations which now demand quite dif- ferent attitudes and reactions. Some of this evidence will be mentioned below when the stages of child- hood are described in greater detail, and when special topics of emotion, instinct, habit, and interest are dis- cussed. A truly genetic psychology of feeling begins of neces- sity with the most primitive of all instincts and feel- ings, hunger and the instincts of food getting, for these are common to all species of life, past and pres- ent. This constitutes the lowest stratum of the feel- ing life, and with the sexual impulse, the other great fundamental expression of the will to live, is the basis of life, and in a sense the foundation of all the higher INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 35 powers and interests. If we could understand com- pletely the part that hunger has played in the develop- ment of mind and body, we should know a great part of biology and psychology. Food is the first object of desire, and all fins, legs, wings, and tails were de- veloped either to get food or to escape being the food of others. Animals hibernate and migrate, according to the food supply. Pleasure is primarily the pleasure of digestion, and many of our acts such as laughter, are best explained as parts of the function of digestion, having had an origin in the movements of eating and the disposal of food in the body ; and we can quite rea- sonably believe that pain originated in the world in the discomfort of hunger. Intelligence grew out of the effort to procure food, and even far into man's history the need of securing and storing food during periods of hardship has been one of the greatest in- centives to mental growth. Questions of nutrition un- derlie many of the problems of all stages of mental life. Many diseases must be studied as primarily de- fects in nutrition. We must suppose that the organs of the body compete for their nutriment, and that within the organism a struggle for existence among the parts goes on, quite like the struggle of indi- viduals with one another. In a sense, every organ of the body is a digestive organ, and even the brain itself performs a digestive function. What we call hunger is the sum of the unconscious desires of every cell for the food it needs. The Sexual Instinct. — Without some knowledge of the sexual life it is impossible to understand fully many 36 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION of the higher instincts and feelings, for far more than is yet generally recognised, the higher sentiments are an off-shoot or irradiation of the more fundamental passion. Normally the sexual life comes to ma- turity at adolescence in a development of structure and function, and in the birth of desire. In its deepest significance this means that the individual now enters a new life in which interest in the future generation must take precedence over interest in self. Connected with this primary sexual impulse and function there are a great number of secondary functions and mental traits, which have grown out of the sexual life of the race, and which now make up the raw material of interest, enthusiasm, and ideals of life. The in- dividual repeats, we say, the history of the race. A period of strong feeling, of a predominance of im- pulse and unorganised mental life, precedes a period of adjustment and control, and a time supervenes, as it did in the race, in which there is danger of excess, abnormality, and crime. Out of this chaos the higher life takes form, and especially the religious life stands in close relation to the sexual upheaval of early adoles- cence. But the parallelism of the race and the individual in the development of the sexual life and its irradiations has been greatly complicated by the increasing delay in maturity of the offspring in higher species of ani- mals, and in man. We have said that functions which in the race have followed puberty and have depended upon the sexual maturity of the organism for their appearance, or upon interests growing out of adult INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 37 life, now are produced before physical maturity, and without its incitements. These interests, which the child has before maturity, serve the purpose of break- ing the force of the new impulses when they suddenly appear, as a result of the ripening sexual functions, and help to irradiate this impulse out, as it were, into broader channels. The child thus practises many adult activities, and entertains adult ideals connected originally with the sexual life, and its related interests, but now appearing, either instinctively without the need of sexual maturity, or else conveyed directly to the child through his environment. Laughter and Humour. — Quite as perplexing to the psychologist of the introspective type, and more dif- ficult to explain on any other theory than the evolu- tionary, are such common emotional acts as laughing and crying, the response to tickle, blushing, and many peculiar stirrings of feeling, which now seem to have no use, and to be but remnants, perhaps, of older, more developed psychoses, once useful in the race. How old many of these feelings are can be only a matter of conjecture, but that they belong to an im- memorial past, to a time before man in his present form existed at all; and that they may even ante- date the beginning of skeletal and muscular structures, and may go back to a time when movement and stimulus radiated over the whole body, and when no co-ordinating nervous system had yet been produced — all these are possible and even probable interpreta- tions of many of our most familiar states of mind. One problem of feeling, in which such interpreta- 38 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION tions as those just suggested appear to be warranted, is that of tickle-feeling, the strange sensitiveness to slight tactual impression which extends all over the body. Both physical and mental reactions to these slight contacts are profound, and reverse the law of Weber, according to which sensation increases in definite proportion with the increase of the stimulus; for, in tickle, the slighter the contact the more con- vulsive the movement, and the more intense the feel- ing. The most satisfactory explanation of this re- markable trait is that in these sensations we have a relic of primordial surface feelings; that they repre- sent the very oldest stratum of psychic life, in the period before the somatic elements had been sharply differentiated from the reproductive, and had thus become devitalised. In this touch feeling we may, per- haps, experience something of the keenness with which primitive organisms felt the world about them, and the undifferentiated quality of the movement with which they responded. Other elements in the tickle sense we may suppose belong to later stages, for the distribution of it over the body clearly indicates that parts vulnerable in combat have become sensitised, serving the very practical purpose of protecting the organism in times of danger — which again reveals to us the severity of the struggle through which the race has passed. The physical expressions of pleasure or humour in laughter must be explained in somewhat similar ways. These movements, so utterly inexplicable, so strange and even uncanny, when calmly examined, become in INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 39 part at least intelligible if we understand that in such acts the body is performing movements ages old, and once connected in a practical way with the states of mind (or similar states) which they now express. In laughter we may assume that body and mind pass back- ward innumerable ages in their history, and take up again the use of fragments of functions which remain concealed from ordinary experience and effort. In laughter, as has been intimated before, old psychoses and neuroses connected with primordial skin sensa- tions are, it is likely, brought to the surface, and old movements which are best explained as once connected with the processes of eating and digestion. So, in a sense, a laugh means, " that is good enough to eat," and the movements of the laugh are movements that were once a part of the process of devouring. Thus would be explained the open mouth, and the rhythmic and convulsive movements, of this remarkable and mys- terious act. If these facts of every-day life are thus correctly interpreted, we should expect that in studying the higher emotions connected with wit and humour, one must constantly refer back to the lower physiological states in which they are expressed. When these higher forms of pleasure are studied in the child and even in the adult they are found to retain unmistaka- bly, even in their most intellectualised form, the traits of their lowly forebears. Wit, in many essential char- acteristics is similar in nature to the primitive shock of the minimal touch, and the laugh from a sense of humour is much the same series of physiological events 4 o GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION as are found in the convulsive movements produced by minimal contact upon the skin. The same qualities of suddenness and light touch are found in it. Wit is a surprise that touches the mind lightly in an unex- pected place, and evokes a large mass of uncontrolled mental reaction, stimulating, perhaps, the rudimentary and unused, and uncontrolled mental elements, that are not knit up into the ordinary currents of thought. The causes of laughter in childhood show interesting evidences of inherited reactions. Very striking is the effect of the actions of animals and especially their cries, or any imitation of them on the part of adults, in causing laughter and merriment in children. The profound influences of these things upon the child's mind, and the peculiar infectiousness of the reactions, may be explained by the supposition that in the growing mind of the child there are a great variety of rudi- mentary interests and possibilities of function, akin to those of animal life. We are potentially animals in all our developmental stages, and the spontaneous manner in which these old functions sometimes act, and the ease with which they respond to the slightest touch, accounts for the great pleasure which they pro- duce. Broad waves of action are touched off in the child's mind by these natural stimuli; old brain tracts are opened up, and old pleasure mechanisms are set off. Other habits of laughter in the child yield to similar explanations. The laughter at the slightest suggestion of the forbidden or the vulgar is the same. The mind is full of old underground paths, submerged physi- INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 41 ological mechanisms, some connected with the sexual life, which are set off without voluntary act, and in op- position to will, and serve as a mild shock to the whole mental structure. That the laughter reactions develop and broaden the rudimentary and potential activities of the mind, and are both hygienic and educative, there can be little doubt. Those stimuli which reach the laughter actions touch the- most spontaneous areas of the mind, and it is here, more perhaps than at any other point, we can see clearly that the individual contains the racial experience in an undeveloped form. The chief psychological point to be observed in the expla- nation of all such acts as laughter is that the old physi- ological reaction is the basis of the higher development. The higher mental state takes up, or is connected with, the lower and transforms it or utilises it in a larger whole. The pleasures and pains, even of the highest moral and religious moods, are thus to be regarded as superstructures built upon older formations and util- ising them. Without the old the new would have no depth nor force. Play. — Next to hunger and sex, and the primitive physiological reactions such as we find in laughter and crying, play may be regarded as the most general and most racial of activities. Play, considered both from the scientific and the practical standpoints, is one of the most important problems of psychology. Play is al- most the whole life of the child, and everything the child does may be considered with reference to the play motive that actuates him at all times. In his plays and games the child repeats racial history. All such 42 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION plays as teasing, combat, and collecting may best be explained as survivals of racial habit, and without this interpretation they must remain unexplained, or ap- pear as haphazard and without meaning. In such plays the child is using motor co-ordinations bequeathed to him from a remote past. These now detached and fragmentary habits were once serious adjustments to practical situations, the issue of which, whether in life or death, depended upon the degree of perfection of just these abilities. The view that play is merely practice for the serious business of life is thus seen to be partial and but incompletely carried out. Play practises not only what is coming, but also what has long since past. It is often practical only in the sense that by it one step after another in the stages of life is kept open and preparatory for the next higher stage. Play ex- ercises decadent or rudimentary organs which w T ill never come to maturity at all, but which will have a short period of activity, will serve to stimulate other and more lasting functions, and will then die out, or remain mere traces in the mental life. They live themselves out in a play stage, to be sure, yet they perform an all-important function, for without the partial development of these rudiments the next higher stages are certain to be imperfect. In play, every movement is alive with heredity. We rehearse in it the lives of our ancestors. We live over again their practical deeds. The elements and combinations old- est in the race come first; those that are later in the race follow, though not without many deviations from the phyletic order, which we do not as yet fully under- INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 43 stand. In a general way, however, the great funda- mental racial movements precede, and are followed by the finer, more co-ordinated movements, which, like a higher geologic stratum, have been deposited upon the older formation. This is why the heart of youth so goes out to play. In it he seems to remember the life of the race, and to revert to an age before work began. Play is not mere excess of motor activity. It involves all the interests of the child. It is the centre of his whole existence. Fears. — Fear is a primitive instinct or emotion, and the methods of studying it are typical of all investi- gations of the feelings. Fear is a much greater emo- tion, more far-reaching in its effects, and more mani- fold in its expression, than can be discovered by the study of any one individual. No one has ever had all the fears to which the race is subject, nor experi- enced all its degrees and manners of expressions, nor do all fears appear at one time of life. It changes its objects from one period to another. Much of the fear psychosis cannot be studied at all in the adult, for it has passed forever from his consciousness. And if we have no memory nor conception of our early fears, how much less can we discover, by introspection, the nature of the fears of other races or species. Only by exploring childhood, by studying the fears of many individuals, and taking note of its physical manifesta- tions in animals, can we form any adequate conception of what fear is like. Statistics showing the order of frequency of fears in many persons reveal the fact that, on the whole, 44 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION human fears are not practical ; they do not protect against the most pressing dangers of our present life, but are better adjusted to an older order, in which the danger from natural objects, and from unfriendly creatures was far greater than now. We do not fear that which is most dangerous to life, and many people harbour life-long dread of objects which, in our pro- tected environment, are practically harmless, Fear of fire, of lightning, of storm, of reptiles and insects, of darkness, are now out of all proportion to the dangers from these sources; yet the dread of these things is among the strongest, the most frequent, and the most persistent of human fears. That fear is learned during the lifetime of the in- dividual or is merely imitative, can hardly be believed in the face of evidence such as has been men- tioned. In fact there is no rational explanation of fears which does not take into account racial experience. We must assume for many of these fears an antiquity far beyond the beginning of human life, going back to the earliest experiences of shock in primitive beings from which man has sprung. The evidence for the correctness of this view does not rest upon the prevalence, in the human mind, of any one fear which can thus with certainty be declared an- cestral, but upon the nature of the whole fear habit of man, and especially upon the fact that in the child fears at different stages appear to fit conditions of life of the race which these stages represent. Fears show the same tendencies as do physical traits which we know to be ancestral, to obey the laws of development, INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 45 atrophy, and disappearance which the theory of re- capitulation demands. If this point of view in interpreting fears be in gen- eral correct much becomes plain that would other- wise be hidden. We should infer that in our fears of celestial objects, and in our profound agitation at wind and storm we go back to a time when nature was of far more importance to life than it is now. Fears of animals, of fur and big eyes, and of noises suggest the old fear of enemies, and go back to a time, when not to fear these things, now for the most part in no way threatening, meant destruction. Fears, still older, antedating the possession of definite motor structures may be traced in such states as blushing and in other changes in the vaso-motor system which accompany states of displeasure, and which are not subject to control by voluntary effort. However speculative such an interpretation of any one fear may be, all the facts taken together can hardly leave room for doubt that the long struggle on the part of the ances- tors of man with the forces of nature has left marks in the mind, which, as we should expect, are ex- perienced more vividly in the early stages of childhood which represent or recapitulate the periods of man's emergence from animal life. Fear has been a necessary part of man's equipment for progress, and it still performs a useful function. The lower forms of fear are necessary in order to stimulate interest and to lead the mind to higher efforts. Fear is the root of many of our strongest intellectual strivings now, just as it has always been 46 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION one of the chief spurs to the acquisition of knowledge. Science itself is in large part the creation of fear, and it is due to fear-inspired science that many of the objects and forces which were once most feared now most serve us. The individual passes upward through stages of sensitiveness to fear of one after another aspect of his environment. These stages are normal and to omit them entirely would be as much a calamity as it would be to linger in them too long, or to retain permanently that which is always passed through and overcome when heredity is sound. Anger. — What has been said about the methods of studying fear, is true also of anger and of other emo- tions. Psychology has hitherto made but little prog- ress in the study of the emotions because it has failed to come in touch with a sufficiently broad area of concrete facts of human nature. The same general conclu- sion is forced upon the mind by the study of the facts about anger, as were established in the case of fear. The physical expressions of anger, however refined or controlled they may be, are movements of combat common to man and animals. Anger is essentially a reaction of mind or body suited to a practical situa- tion. Such effects as swallowing, and stimulation of saliva, frequently mentioned in accounts of anger, are connected with the acts of swallowing prey ; while the more external manifestations, such as biting, pound- ing the head, butting, stamping, making faces, scratch- ing, pinching, pulling, kicking, hugging, striking, and throwing are one and all movements that have ob- viously been useful, and can be shown, in every case, INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 47 to have had a significant history among the purposive acts of the ancestors of man. In our more repressed anger of civilised life these movements become sup- pressed and often remain as mere remnants, but their nature can hardly be mistaken, if they be observed closely. Like fear, anger must not be regarded as entirely a defect in the mechanism of the human mind, however ill-adjusted it may seem to the practical business of life. Situations still occur that demand anger, rightly directed and expressed, and in its more refined form it is the motive of much useful activity. To have strong passion held in check creates the tension under which much of the best work of the world is done. Anger thus becomes a stored energy, useful if properly conserved, but wasteful and harmful if not controlled. And like fear, it performs useful functions in the periods of growth of the child by acting as an incite- ment to higher interests and the development of pow- ers both of action and control. Pity. — In pity, we have an example of a more com- plex emotion, yet subject to the same methods of en- quiry, and to the same kind of interpretation as the more simple and more expressive passions. Pity arose later in the race than either anger or fear. Its most probable origin was in affection for the young, an explanation which receives support from the fact that it is much stronger in women than in men, forms a larger part of their emotional life, and to a much greater extent dominates their conduct. Figures show that we tend to pity most those who lack those things 48 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION that we ourselves feel we should most miss, if we were deprived of them. We do not, therefore, necessarily pity most those who need most, nor the lack of what is most needed ; indeed pity very often goes out to those who do not suffer at all, and who are not deprived of anything they greatly desire or need. Young children, for example, pity most those who must be out in the dark or storm, suggesting the in- tense sensitiveness of the human mind to all that re- minds it of the old struggle with the powers of na- ture. Older people pity most profoundly those who seem to be deprived of the elemental comforts, such as food, clothing, shelter, especially if the sufferer be a child. Anything that suggests, however slightly, hunger in the midst of plenty moves the adult mind to compassion. This deep responsiveness to the elemental needs of man, very strong even among savages, and peculiarly liable at adolescence to extravagant expres- sion, indicates, on the recapitulation theory, a vast struggle of the race with cold, want, and hunger, in the effort to preserve and protect offspring. Next to deprivation of primitive needs, weakness, sickness, de- formity and death most excite pity. Children most pity physical suffering or defects; and adults, to a greater extent, have compassion for mental suffering. A vast amount of pity is expended, both by children and adults, upon those who have no real distress, and sometimes when there is only enjoyment or satisfac- tion. All the extravagances of this deep emotion, and its lack of practical expression and fitness to needs of INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 49 modern situations, can readily be explained by the principle of recapitulation. The severity of man's struggle has oversensitised his nature to hardship and struggle. The child repeats the history of the race, and therefore pities, not according to actual suffering, but in accord with his own fears and desires, which are primitive and unpractical. Even the adult's emo- tion is still but imperfectly adapted to the changed con- ditions of life that have been brought about by in- creased civilisation, science and invention. Other feelings have been more or less completely studied in the same way, and in each case we find that the emotion can be fully explained only in the light of the history of the race, and that the higher and later feelings can be understood only by re- ferring back to the more primary feelings upon which they are based. We cannot interpret the higher sen- timents, such as we feel in our religious moods, with- out going back over the whole history of the individual and his ancestry. All the primary instincts, the whole range of attitudes toward nature and social environ- ment, would need to be studied in order to under- stand religion. The emotion of fear, the feelings aroused by forest, storm, sky, and celestial bodies ; by cloud, sea, wind ; by animals and flowers — all play a part in the higher feelings, as well as in the in- tellectual life. Not only must the later emotion be interpreted by means of the earlier, but all our higher intellectual processes must be regarded as bound up inextricably with the most elementary re- actions toward nature and persons. In fact nothing 5 o GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION in human life can be understood fully without study- ing the primitive feelings. All this can be made more clear by close study of one great group of human emotions, the religious feelings. Religious Instincts and Emotions. — The religious life is the centre, we may say, of the higher life of the race since it emerged from a state of nature, and of the individual in all the years following puberty, dur- ing which the acquisition of civilisation is repeated. Just as in the preadolescent years the deepest interpre- tations of childhood are to be found by the study of the primary instincts and feelings, such as hunger, fear, and anger, now interest naturally turns to the moral and religious life. The child passes through stages of religious growth in which he repeats the faith and worship of lower races — in which he is susceptible in turn to those forms of religious expression found in savagery, and in all the later steps of religious development in the race. He is at first a fetich worshipper, a worshipper of sacred stones, trees, animals, celestial bodies, rising only later to a grade of feeling and intelligence in which nature as a whole becomes an object of awe and worship. Like the race, the child passes, in his religious concepts, from the specific to the more gen- eral. He goes through stages, such as in the race are represented by the religions of Mohammed, Con- fucius and last of all, of Jesus. The natural culmina- tion of this long process of growth is in some form of conversion, and with it initiation into the religious life of his elders. As manhood and old age super- INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 51 vene, still other changes take place in the religious life which bring it nearer to /the religions of decadent or torpid civilisations, such as Buddhism and Brahman- ism. The religious life is essentially ^problem of human psychology, but religion cannot be understood without reference to lower stages of the feelings. The higher emotion takes up the lower and utilises it or trans- forms it into a new product. The complex result is a new stage of development. The basis of all re- ligious feeling must be sought in the physiological states and motor reactions accompanying the adjust- ment of all living forms to their' environment. Above this is the more conscious experience of the race dur- ing millions of years, in which it contended with the forces of nature, and in which the emotional life was shaped by practical interests. Feelings and at- titudes were thus fixed which were transmitted and which rise again in every new individual born to the race: feelings which form the deepest stratum of the religious life and of all other sentiments. „ The child is first, we say, a nature worshipper. He is pro- foundly influenced, both in thought and in feeling, by all of nature's forces and objects. Without such a basis, religion would have been impossible in the race ; and, in the individual, the highest religious develop- ment cannot be reached except through a broad sympa- thy with nature. Religious faith is thus based upon a much surer foundation than the experience of the individual, for, in the child, the experiences of the whole race are stirring. The sense of something 52 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION deeper and more real in the things of nature than is revealed to the senses, is the beginning of a belief in the supernatural. This is the point at which all myth, folk-lore, and fairy tale are produced, both in the mind of child and of race. All this the child organises into a conception of a supernatural world, and thus he comes to dwell in two worlds: a world of physical matter and laws, of things seen and felt ; and a world of spirits, of things imagined and believed. And this is the world of religious faith and belief. It is upon such a natural soil of generic mental states that the special forms of the dogmatic religions subsist and grow, and were it not for the natural foundation the later religions would have no depth nor force. The child has been busy in all his years constructing a world beyond his limited range of physical vision ; he has learned how to live every- where, in all times ; he has felt, though he knows noth- ing of its significance, the stirrings of the whole race within his consciousness — and he is prepared to in- terpret all this experience religiously, when he shall receive the impetus of the great moral interest that will come at adolescence. The early ideas and feel- ings will be interpreted by the youth, or for him, in religious terms, and they will form the truest part of his religion. Such a faith, which absorbs these deepest, most natural, and truest intuitions of the feel- ings, will at its best be far deeper than any mere in- tellectual formulation, or creed; more really a part of life ; truer than all the proofs of reason. Up to the time of adolescence the child has been INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 53 passing through stages corresponding to the racial pe- riods before the final stages of civilised life are reached. This child life is predominantly individual; it is lived for the sake of itself, and not for any prac- tical or ethical ideal. Thus childhood is pre-eminently selfish, trying to be and get all it can for itself. The child has been fed, sheltered, clothed, and taught; all the currents of his environment have tended toward him, rather than from him. During these years he has been passing from stage to stage, experiencing the broadening influences of the ancestral traits that flour- ish within his mind. In imagination he tends to expand, and to live the life of the race ; in play he be- comes all things, and takes all parts for his own su- preme pleasure. During these years the earlier and more remote forebears are being heard from, and the child is re- peating their life in his own. But now, in adolescence, the nearer progenitors begin to be the predominant forces, and through all their influence runs the note of service to the race; of readjustment of the life of the individual; of subordination of the selfish will to live for pleasure, to the love of the future, and of off- spring. The self can now no longer expand indefi- nitely and live its impersonal experience. It begins to specialise ; it must now renounce and undertake those activities, and develop those powers and func- tions, which will end in producing a home for off- spring; it must look forward now to contributing a share to the well-being of the race. The all-inclusive life thus renounced will presently 54 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION reappear in the form of a hope for a life beyond this life, in another world in which the self, now deprived of its universal life, will find all its limitations com- pensated. But the immediate effect is conflict. The old impulses have carried the individual along in channels of interest that have become deep and fixed ; he has become adjusted to a manner of life well suited to his stage of existence. But now new motives arise which strongly impel to habits of life quite at variance with his old existence, and so tumult and conflict be- gin. The new is recognised as the better way; the old seems imperfect and lacking in ideals, an estrange- ment from the right and good. If development be normal, the new and higher impulses soon predominate, and after a period of storm, stress, and conflict, a new adjustment gradually supervenes, in which new ideals prevail and the life becomes in far-reaching ways dedicated to service. All this, with a change of terms, may be described as religious conversion. Conversion consists, psychologically, of a step from egoism to altruism, in which all the impulses are or- ganised into a new and higher unity. As it appears in its religious form there are four stages, or four dis- tinct moments in the experience: (i) A harmony within the old life of sin, or self-service. (2) Ten- sion, and a sense of sin, error, loss, or decay. (3) The stage of losing a burden, the surrender of a perverse will. (4) A sense of being saved, of prog- ress and growth toward a new and higher plane. All these stages, however they may be defined, are moments in a change from the life of egoism, natural INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 55 and necessary to the first period of childhood, to the stage of maturity which now comes as a willingness of the individual to surrender and die for that which must henceforward be its greatest work, the service of the next generation. However broad and trans- formed this motive may become under the influence of moral and religious ideals, its base and centre are the parental instincts. All are born twice, once as individuals, and once as representatives of the interests of the race. The change from the one life to the other is deep and fundamental, including all depart- ments of life. Religion fixes upon and formulates one aspect of this change, and calls it conversion. How- ever sudden and unique the crisis of the religious ex- perience may seem, normally there is a slow accu- mulation and change, extending through the adolescent period. The function of religion is to make the trans- formation radical and complete. Morality is the re- sult ; it is the life of service to the race. However much emphasis may be put upon the reli- gious nature of conversion, we must also take into account the change that it brings or implies in all de- partments of life, and its central place for all edu- cational theory. Adolescent conversion is a natural and normal process, and it occurs whenever growth is per- fect. It is the centre of all religion, and it is a re- establishment of a union with nature, from which the individual seems to himself to have been estranged. During this process the love for nature is greatly deep- ened, and there is a stronger belief in its spirituality and meaning. As an ethical movement, conversion is 56 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION a reunion of conduct with conscience ; as an intellectual change, it is a reunion of the mind with truth ; as feeling, it is the closing in once more of the highest love with its supreme object. The common element in all these aspects of conversion is the feeling of stress and estrangement, followed by an ecstatic closing in by faith or intuition, with that which is felt to be of the highest worth. Conversion is not only the centre of the religious and biological change at adolescence, but it is also the clue to understanding the psychology of the higher stages of the history of the race. The conversion mo- tive has played a great part in history, and everywhere, where civilisation has reached the higher levels, it is recognised. Among primitive peoples we find its be- ginnings in the form of initiatory rites which sym- bolise the entrance of the youth into manhood, and into the position of adult responsibility. This is the beginning of primitive education. It is a conscious effort to establish, in the mind of the youth, the best traditions of the race to which he belongs. Much in our own religion is symbolic of conversion and the adolescent change. The conquest of the world, through grief and pain, by the life of Jesus, is its greatest expression. The Cross symbolises the adoles- cent struggle, in which the old life of self and sin comes into sharp conflict with the new and higher mo- tives of love and service. Here the movement is more than individual ; it is racial. Jesus initiated into the world, at a time when it had degenerated as a result of individualism, a new religion, and a new culture, INSTINCTS AND FEELINGS 57 based upon love and self-surrender. He himself was an adolescent, and most of his disciples were youths. Every youth in becoming transformed into a normal adult thus passes through the stages through which Jesus led the world. The story of the Cross and of the life of Jesus is thus the great religious masterpiece of the race, most truly representing its higher life. In lesser form the theme appears in many literatures. Dante is the story of adolescence; the Holy Grail, the Golden Fleece, Prometheus, Beowulf, and Hiawatha all tell the same tale. It is the central theme of religion, in its highest form. Through all the lower stages of racial religion the child of this higher civilisation passes, and the partial and false beliefs by way of which he reaches the truer and higher are necessary steps. When religion is true and deep, these beliefs are never merely cast aside or dropped, but the high- est of all faiths retains the power of still carrying the germs of the old beliefs, and of sympathising with all that it has once loved. Religion is, therefore, to be re- garded as a product of inner growth, a natural result of the stages of feeling through which man passes. Religion has its sanction within us, and all religious ceremonies are valuable only as they introduce the in- dividual to powers within himself that are unex- pressed. The higher truths of religion are revelations to a single self from the racial or cosmic self within him. The religious life presents many other problems of psychology, and has both its normal and its abnormal 58 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION phases. Among the questions which are largely psy- chological are: prayer, obedience, sacrifice, chastity, asceticism, renunciation, creeds, dogmas, doctrines, worship, sacraments, ritual, ceremonies, priests, saints, miracles, the Sabbath, symbols, vows, oaths, sects — all these and all similar problems are open for psycho- logical investigation, and upon psychology rests the task of restating them, and of reinterpreting all the facts. All such questions are problems of the higher emotions, and they must be studied with reference to the stages of development of the feelings, both in the race, and in the individual. Psychology must reform the ancient dogmas by showing the validity of the feel- ing elements upon which they rest. By this means the essentially true in religion will be reinterpreted in scientific terms, and all its practical problems will be brought into relation with questions of education and other needs of the present day. References. — 46, 112, 113, 115, 121, 132, 142, 148, 184, 192, 196, 202. CHAPTER VI THE INTELLECT Already, in discussing instinct and feeling, a clue has been given to the point of view from which the intellect must be studied, and indeed to its nature and the principles of its development. The feelings and instincts make up the greater and the deeper part of the mental life. They exist and act below the sur- face of consciousness as represented by the experience of the individual. They are the expression of the power of heredity in us, and are, therefore, older and more generic or racial than the more conscious knowl- edge functions, and all the content of consciousness acquired after birth. These feelings, natural re- sponses and interests, as has already been shown, are the truest and most significant attitudes toward all the great problems of life; for the truth is best ex- pressed by what we do or are impelled to do or to think when we act in accordance with our deepest in- stincts. The problem of the psychology of the intellect is to discover the relation of the intellectual processes, both in the individual and in the race, to the life of feeling and movement which underlies them. Only in this way can the nature of thought and the principles 59 60 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION according to which mental training must be conducted be understood; or the validity of the higher reason- ing processes judged. At every point we must return to the powers, physical and mental, which man has in common with animals, if we would understand the mind. Consciousness, though the latest, is not neces- sarily the highest, nor the most central, part of mind. In fact when the mind is most alert in doubt or thought, acting with strained and concentrated attention, it is farthest from that which is most genuinely mental, or the expression of soul life. The deepest thought is expressed in movement. Attention is thought inter- rupted on its way to action. The conscious life is unorganised and disjointed, while life is carried on by the deeper instincts and impulses in an even, unin- terrupted flow. In thought, personality tends to be- come confused and superficial : in action we show our- selves as we truly are. The conception of intellect as a superstructure built upon the far greater and more complex life of the un- conscious explains many facts, and becomes the cor- ner-stone of all intellect-training. This is the fact upon which the views of mind which posit a sub- liminal self or overself are based. It is the conscious- ness below the surface that dominates trance and all those other abnormal states in which the intellect ap- pears sometimes to have supernatural powers. No other powers are at work than those seen in the or- dinary working of the intellect, and there is no need of assuming anything except the racial forces which operate in everyone, and dominate the conscious life, THE INTELLECT 61 though it is natural that the deep interest which all take in the unconscious mind, and which shows the longing of the individual to live a more complete life, should often lead to the interpretation of the powers of the unconscious as supermundane. The powers of the feelings and impulses upon the intellectual life are most directly evidenced in those states of mind we call faith and belief, and in the imagination. Our beliefs represent the life of the race, are larger and more potent than the experi- ence of the individual, are the deciding factors in all the important situations of life, and are the powers behind the activities of imagination, dreams, and in- deed all the workings of interest, attention, and ap- perception. The best example of the dominance of intellect by belief, and belief by the unconscious will is the myth : that great body of truth which has grown out of the feelings of the race, and has created a world, which, because it exists nowhere, is real every- where. This process, however, is not exceptional, but is typical of the whole life of intellect, especially in the growing child. The growing mind repeats the racial myth-making in many ways. Thoughts are constantly being made from feelings, and the sense world and the fancy world are often inextricably mixed, in the child, as in the savage, and, indeed, in the most highly trained and intellectual adult. The mind is constantly busy interpreting feeling in terms of sense, and projecting the feeling into the practical life at every point. The child, especially, lives in two worlds at the same time ; the world of sense, and the 62 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION world of fancy; the world of his own outer experi- ence, and the world of the racial experiences, which well up within him. He thus lives everywhere,, and at all times. Moreover his world contains not only the past but the future, for out of the feelings ideals are formed, and projected ahead of experience, form- ing a schema which guides and gathers experience, and moulds conduct and interest. Truth, for the child, is thus only in part a matter of sense experience. He is constantly at work creating for himself, out of his own instincts, a body of truth, to use in his own self-development, in ways but little controlled by his environment. Later the same cre- ative force of mind, if development be normal, will be at work shaping the forces of the moral and re- ligious life. Instinct, rather than sense experience and critical thought, will still be the director of thought and the judge of the validity of it. This view of in- tellect is beginning to find its way into the psychological methods of studying belief, especially religious faith. It is seen that the evidence of feeling strikes deeper than historical criticism. Even in cases in which his- torical evidence and reflection cause doubt, truth may still remain founded upon feeling. The intellect, though it may seem to be impractical, and to develop in ways that appear for the time to antagonise rather than help in the individual's effort to adjust himself to the demands of a practical life, will be found on closer scrutiny to be as lawful in its growth as any other function. In the principle of recapitulation will be discovered the explanation of its THE INTELLECT 63 vagaries, its persistent refusal to be bound by sense experiences and by the practical needs of the mo- ment. The mind tends to pass through stages through which the mind of the race has gone. We do not actually remember the racial experience, in any such way as Plato and Wordsworth might be interpreted to think, but the mind passes through stages in which rudimentary and hitherto dormant functions, whether of brain or mind, spring into life. These nascent stir- rings are the basis of interests. They form centres about which experiences cluster; they influence and colour all that the intellect for the time does; they establish belief and stimulate fancy, in ways already made plain. Some of these functions arise, never again to decline during the life of the individual; some are transitory, flourish for a time, and then decay — serv- ing the purpose of arousing the next higher function, or having accumulated just such experiences as will later be utilised in the process of adaptation. The intellectual life is a growth, a series of stages in which there is always a partial adaptation to the practical needs of the individual, while all the time there is progress, by an apparently circuitous route, toward a permanent adjustment, in adult life, to the demands of the environment. Thought at each stage is in excess of the needs of that stage; but from the excess of thought and fancy the practical intellect is shaped by the needs of life ; and the mind, which is inclined by nature to roam everywhere, to be free and to follow the instincts and racial feelings, is finally domesticated and harnessed to definite tasks. 64 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION We can now take up somewhat in detail the char- acterisation of the intellectual development of the child, comparing him with the race. A systematic ac- count of the intellect might well begin with a study of the space consciousness, the background of all thought. We should find that its roots antedate clear consciousness, and are embedded in the primitive sen- sitive elements of the contractile tissues of the body, and that these qualities still provide, at the beginning of life, the materials or foundation upon which the higher senses of sight and touch proceed to construct a spacial order. All the higher senses arise as gradually differ- entiated and specialised forms of touch. The sense of touch is, therefore, the archaeological field of psy- chology. In it can be found the oldest stratum of the intellectual life. In the young infant the pre- dominance of the senses of touch can still be noticed ; and there are many other traces of archaic traits throughout the sensory life. There is not, as in the adult, a continuous or organised life of sense, but sen- sations arise in isolated areas. Each hand has at first a life separate from the other sensory areas. So, too, the mouth and the eyes. Finally these areas of sense are brought together. The mouth-hands, the hand- hands, and the eye-hands unite to form the objects that adults know as hands. So with other parts of the body. The self is gradually put together from sensations. Everything is at first experimental and fragmentary. The child investigates and feels, using first the mouth as an organ of search, as would be THE INTELLECT 65 expected if racial steps are followed, and later trans- fers the work of experimentation to the hands. In the learning of language the child shows again the peculiar circuitous manner in which he develops. He never begins with the sounds that seem easiest to the adult, or the most elementary, but in a way all his own proceeds to acquire his language, by a process of learning and then apparently forgetting, quite at variance with the direct route that would seem to the adult most desirable and economical. It is evi- dent that all the first steps in the development of lan- guage are prompted by inner impulse, quite inde- pendently of what the child hears. Later he uses the elements of language he has thus acquired by his own initiative, in imitating the combinations he hears, but in the first instance he produces all from his own na- tive resources. Habits and interests grow from within in the same way, some to flourish for a short time, and then to disappear, some to become permanent. All through the earlier years of childhood interests are being evolved, and by means of them the sensory materials that pour in are organised and controlled. The child, moreover, does not merely wait for his experience, but seeks it and selects it in ways entirely his own. The intense ear-hunger and eye-hunger of these early years is the chief means of education of his mind, and for a long time the craving for sensory experience is the most marked characteristic of the intellect. Es- pecially is there great hunger for experience of nat- ural objects, so that all out-of-doors is none too large 66 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION to supply the child with materials for his mind-build- ing. This is one reason why the country is the normal environment for the young child. There the spon- taneous interest in objects can be fully satisfied, and the mind receives the nourishment it most craves. It can safely be said that nine-tenths of the child's think- ing is about either people or objects in nature. People furnish him his practical experience, set the limits for his conduct. Objects stimulate his imagination and give him the materials out of which he builds his world of fancy. How entirely the child is dependent for the content of his thought upon what he can per- ceive for himself with his senses, and how utterly incapable he is of obtaining knowledge through words can be seen by examining closely the content of any young child's mind. The nature of the child's thinking, and the charac- teristics of his mental development generally, can best be understood by the study of his attitudes towards natural objects, and the way in which he thinks about them, noticing how the commonplace experiences of everyday life are eked out by fancy under the stimulus of spontaneous interest or instinct; and how, too, the ideas thus created stimulate the most practical activi- ties, help in the adjustment to environment, and form points to which learning, imposed upon the child by the adult, may be attached. The sun, the moon, clouds, the phenomena of light and dark, fire, heat, frost and cold, animal and plant life, inanimate things, all come into the closest touch with the mind of the child, excite the imagination, THE INTELLECT 67 and supply much of the raw material for his thought. All this goes on independently of all schooling, and resembles in character the free mental activity of the savage or primitive man. In much of his thought the child is creative; he repeats the process by which epic and myth have been produced in the race. He thinks in rhythm or rhyme, uses analogy, holds inconsistent thoughts in the same conception, is fragmentary, im- aginative, suggestible — in all these ways repeating the traits of racial development. One may learn about the growth of the intellect either by examining racial literatures or by investi- gating the contents of the child's mind. In either case a broad objective method is demanded. No one tribe possesses all the mental capacities of the race, and in the mind of one child but a small part of child thought can be found. But by putting together the fancies of many children, all that the race has ever thought or fancied can be brought to light. The child mind contains precisely such fancies as those from which all mythologies and hero stories, and most of the religion and science of the world, have been cre- ated. The child's interest in clouds, and the fertility of his thought in constructing cloud fancies shows well the intellectual type of the growing mind. There is al- most nothing the imagination of the child does not see in the clouds, and so deep is this interest, so intense the emotional effects, that one must believe that in cloud fancies of the child, one sees an example of the power of ancient traces in the mind to arouse its 68 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION activities : that these fancies refer back to, indeed are vestiges of, a time when man was at the mercy of uncontrollable forces in nature, and when to watch the sky for signs of storm and fair weather was a mat- ter of life and death. Especially at adolescence, when the effect of clouds upon the imagination is so great, we seem to see reproduced the mythopoeic faculty of the race which in earlier times, when the imagina- tion was uninhibited by knowledge, evolved the old Aryan nature deities ; and in later times, in Greece and Rome, produced the more humanly personified gods of nature. Investigations of the child's thoughts about heat and cold show similarly the profound effect upon the mind of these once more vital phenomena. It is when the fancies of many children are brought together that the relation of the racial mind to the child is best seen. For, though each child may contribute but little, all together have created a system of thought, almost a logically constructed philosophy or cosmology, suggesting irresistibly the origin of philosophies and religions in the primitive mind. Studies recently made of the child's fancies about Jack Frost show the cre- ative imagination at work in the construction of a theory, doing the very thing the race has done in creat- ing the great myths. For Jack Frost is a creation of the modern child, and he is still in the making and in an unconventionalised form. To other natural phenomena the child's mind re- sponds with equal fertility. The wind profoundly af- fects the imagination, and it is probably the means of THE INTELLECT 69 conveying to the child, as it did to the race, for the first time, the great lesson of the reality and causal efficiency of things unseen, and therefore is an aid to religious development. This is shown by the fact that in many languages words for soul and spirit are de- rived from words for wind. Rocks, stones, and minerals also have their story and lore in the mind both of the child and the sav- age. Many games of children suggest the use of stones and sticks as fetiches, and they have to the child's mind a meaning and are a language, one must think, only because of the long experience with the objects of nature on the part of man. The responsiveness of the child's mind to the in- fluences of the forest, the power of seasons and twi- light to stimulate the imagination, the effects of the dark, all give clues to the nature of the intellect and its relations to the feelings, and show how the fan- ciful and the practical have grown up together. We cannot at all understand the mind of the child with- out taking into account the effect of all these agencies upon the minds of his progenitors. The cycle of sun- light, shadow and the dark, so full of vital interest to man, has had a deep influence upon the mind, es- pecially in times before the rise of scientific knowl- edge. The child's fancies show clearly how thought must have played about these mysteries. Being in- nocent of those attitudes of criticism which consti- tute the scientific habit, his thought is positive and free, like that of primitive man — directed by his de- sires and fears. In the sun myths, especially, is jo GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION seen the closest similarity between the child's and the savage's thought. In both there is a first stage of disinterested acceptance of things as they are ; then, when fancy begins to play with the material, there arises a great diversity of interpretations, but showing certain fundamental modes of mental action, common to all. Indeed the sun myths mark what may be called a stage of development of the intellect, both in the race and in the individual, and show, in a typical form, characteristic moments of the growth of the intelli- gence. The effect of the moon upon the imagination and reason forms another interesting chapter in the ge- netic psychology of the intelligence. The moon stands in the closest relations, of all the natural objects, to the pleasant and sentimental moods of man. Its influence is especially seen in the adolescent mind, which weaves it into thought and fancy, and even takes it up into the religious life, in precisely the same way that it has entered into the creative fancy of the race, and has appeared in folk-lore, myth, and poetry. One cannot, therefore, understand the intelligence of man without first perceiving how great a part of the mental content has been, and is still, in the child, made up of thoughts and fancies about the objects of nature. It is not a mere accessory of mental growth, but is the very foundation upon which it is built. Nature objects have not only furnished the content of thought but the attitudes toward them have supplied the motive for thought, and have directed THE INTELLECT 71 and even created type-forms of thinking which we use in our practical activities. The child's mind passes through stages of think- ing, just as the body grows by periods. Those minds that are richest in rudimentary forces seem to linger longest in the racial stages, and to utilise them most fully. The child's mind tends to live in one stage at a time, and his interests and his type of thought ap- pear for a time to remain consistent to the spirit of that stage. He lives an intellectual life determined in form and content by the selective qualities of his own inner forces, and although learning may go on at the same time in accord with the demands of the adult, and the mind may be imposed upon to almost any extent, absorption, assimilation, and growth take place naturally only along lines of the interests and the methods chosen by nature. References.— 7, 22, 23, 33, 35, 40, 61, 63, 115, 116, 135, 184, 186, 187, 190, 191, 194, 196, 284. CHAPTER VII DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES Thus far we have discussed general principles of development, and have shown their application to problems of instinct, emotion, and intellect. Now, a brief survey of the same ground may be taken from another standpoint, observing how the child as an individual passes from one stage to another, and the manner in which this process illustrates further the laws that have been laid down. For a period of twenty-five years the human being is passing through a series of stages, each distinct in itself and transitory, with characteristics of its own, yet all leading on by a lawful, though circuitous, process to a complete development in the adult form. Transition, succession of stages, is the chief charac- teristic of childhood. Beginning with life before birth, and following the growth of the child on to maturity it is very clear that the changes, though subject to law, are not or- derly in the sense of being a gradual enlargement of what already exists. Each stage is different from that which precedes and follows, as though it were intended to be a final stage. But presently its char- acteristics begin to change, there is a short period 72 DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES j$ of transition and another well-marked stage super- venes, which does not appear to have grown out of the preceding, but rather to have taken its place. The unevenness and irregularity in the growth of the child has led to many attempts at classification of its periods. Although many marked changes can be made out — and in fact each function can be traced through definite stages, and within larger movements functions can be seen to have periodicities of their own — yet at least four great divisions of the whole course of development stand out with sufficient clear- ness to be described as eras of growth, and the study of the characteristics of each reveals principles of the utmost importance for a science of education. The four main periods or developmental stages are (i) Infancy; (2) Childhood; (3) Youth; (4) Ado- lescence. Each of these stages has such well-marked traits that the same individual, at different times in his life, may seem almost to acquire a new character or to become a different organism. More precise ob- servation could detect intermediate stages, to which names might be assigned. Following each of the periods mentioned is a more or less clearly defined transitional period, partaking of the characteristics both of what has gone before and of that which is to follow. Infancy, the period from birth until the end of the second year, is especially a time of physiological development and sensory experience. Childhood, from two to eight, is characterised as a time of im- aginative activity. Youth, from eight to twelve, is a 74 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION period of practical adjustment. Adolescence is a time in which the emotions dominate. Infancy includes the period from birth to the com- pletion of certain physical and mental changes that may take place as early as the eighteenth month, of which walking is the most important. Growth dur- ing all this time is very rapid, and physical changes are continuous. During this period the infant appears so different in every trait and feature from the adult that he would seem the greatest of mysteries, did not the principles of evolution throw light upon the order of his growth. The shape of the body, move- ments such as grasping and climbing, the shape and proportions of the internal organs, all indicate that the characteristics belonging to the simian period of racial existence are now most dominant and are strug- gling with the later strata of human characters. During all this period, and on through childhood, there will be many occurrences that can be explained only by evolutionary principles. The feeding habits of the child, his play, modes of self-defence, curiosity, social instincts, all require study with reference to the stages of life in the race centring about the simian age. From the end of the second year to about eight is the period of childhood. In comparison with years preceding and following it, it is marked by slow increase in height and weight. At three years the brain has attained two-thirds its adult weight, and at seven al- most the full brain weight has been reached, though in its finer structure it is still very incomplete. All DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES 75 through childhood physical activity is excessive, but is neither strong nor well co-ordinated. The large, or fundamental, and not the fine, accessory muscles are most called into play, though from six to eight there is a rapid increase in muscular control. These years are a time of free activity, naturally devoted almost entirely to play. Doing is for its own sake, and not for the sake of the product. Mental action is much like the physical action, rapid but un- controlled. The mind is receptive to a remarkable degree. The child is an eager seeker after all kinds of knowledge ; the attention is active, but flits readily from point to point. The memory is good, often sur- prisingly minute and accurate. Thought is active, but disconnected and fanciful, due to lack of control by dominating interests. The period from four to five seems especially one of imaginative fertility. The mind is full of fancies. The play is highly fanciful and inventive. So much, indeed, does the child of this age live in an imagined world that he is often quite self-sufficient, and needs no companion. The function of all the play of body and mind seems now to be to co-ordinate and direct all the wealth of sense and inner experience that has been so rapidly pro- duced in the growing years. The child is not critical, either of self or others. He is willing to try his hand at everything; he ac- cepts without much question whatever is done for him or told him and has no hard and fast notions of law, either of nature or society to trammel his thinking or acting. The mind is suggestible and imitative more 76 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION than at any other period of life. Both the moral and the aesthetic life are crude, like the savage's. The whole life of the child is unformed and in the rough, but rich, full, and active. This is analogous to what we find on the physical side: a brain relatively large, but lacking in co-ordination and delicacy of structure. At the end of childhood comes a transition period, marked by several changes, the full significance of which is not understood. The most noticeable change is in the body. Rate of growth, both as re- gards height and weight, is distinctly retarded, and the brain almost stops increasing in size. Many have noticed a tendency to physical weakness and a low- ered resistance to fatigue and disease. Movements become less spasmodic and less rapid. Muscular control is decidedly better. Mentally, too, the child appears to be undergoing change or readjustment, and is on the whole making clear progress toward a more adult type of thinking. Still, at the very end of this time, there is a period of heightened imagination. The child is likely to be troubled by fears and other emo- tional disturbance. In girls the doll interest is now at its height. From this time on it will steadily decline. In a sense, this period seems to be a preadult life, a time in which traits that racially belong to maturity cast their shadows before. That the passing traits of the child resemble the characteristics of the savage in many particulars can- not be denied. In regard to fickleness and lack of power of long-sustained effort, optimism, and free- dom from care and work, close relation to nature, the DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES 77 tendency to personify natural objects, and to confuse the animate and the inanimate, in readiness to imitate, and to act upon suggestion, the child and primitive man are much alike. Both child and savage confuse the real and the ideal, the waking life and the dream life. They are alike in the manner in which they see resemblances, in their use of analogy, in the way in which they construct language forms. The say- ings of the child much resemble the folk-lore of primi- tive peoples. Though all must admit the agreement of the child and the savage in many of these characteristics, some would maintain that the cause of the resemblance is the lack of experience common to both, and that it is, therefore, superficial and without deep signifi- cance. But it is difficult to examine the evolutionary evidence without coming to the conclusion that the similarity of savage and child has a deeper mean- ing. The child certainly recapitulates racial experi- ence, in part as the result of an inner growth prin- ciple. In the earlier stages this can be seen clearly, though the resemblances become more and more ob- scured with age and complexity of experience. We must infer that the rapid changes in temperament and mental habit during childhood are caused by the same growth force that is at work during infancy pushing the mind and body up through recapitulatory stages. Though it is impossible to find in later childhood defi- nite stages, which as a whole can be said to corre- spond to racial steps, it can be claimed at least that stages of childhood represent fragments of racial 78 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION stages, and that in his nascent periods the child is truly a representative of the race. Other forces are at work which make him depart widely from the precise order of racial evolution. The fixed traits and habits that recapitulation tends to preserve and hand on intact are taken up and transformed in the process of adaptation in a way not as yet fully under- stood. Youth, which can roughly be placed as the period from eight to twelve years, is a unique time in human life, very interesting when considered from the ge- netic standpoint. Now the child has completed teeth- ing, the brain has acquired nearly the adult size, health is almost at its best. Activity is greater and more varied than it has ever been before, or ever will be again. There is great endurance, strong vi- tality, excellent resistance to mental fatigue. The child now acquires a life of his own outside the home circle; his interests will never again be so in- dependent of adult influences. The senses are very acute. There is great immunity to exposure, dan- ger, and temptation. Reason, true morality, religion, sympathy, love, and aesthetic enjoyment are but little developed. The rules of the adult seem to the youth alien and arbitrary. The mind is keen and alert, reactions are immediate and vigorous. The memory is quick, sure, and lasting. Never again will there be such susceptibility to drill and discipline; such plas- ticity to habit or readiness of adjustment to all new conditions. Now the finer movements are made with ease, and manual skill is easily acquired. There is DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES 79 interest in the product of activity, and no longer en- tirely in the activity for its own sake. Mental action begins to be better controlled, more connected, and more commonplace than in childhood, though the imagination is still active. Conduct becomes to a greater extent reasoned; and it is no longer entirely submissive to the control of parents and teachers. The child begins to peer into motives, and no longer looks at effects alone; so there is more fairness in dealing with others, and better appreciation of rea- soned behaviour on the part of those who control him. This increased sensibleness of the child is shown in many ways. He is no longer uncritical of his own work, nor so impulsive in trying his hand at everything. He is more critical of others. His be- liefs are more fixed and definite, and more dependent upon reason. He is less ready to accept on faith what is told him. In a word, the mind has now come to be adjusted to an outer order, and action and thought are no longer controlled by inner impulses. There is less originality, but more strength and or- der, Youth, thus described, appears to be a time when the crude outlines of childhood are filled in ; a transient completeness is consummated, when the mind has more nearly an adult form than in the preceding or immediately following period. This is the time when children are so often called little men and women; for their ways are likely to become fixed as though for a lifetime. Childhood with its limitations is ac- 80 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION cepted without complaint, and life goes on in an even flow. Soon, however, this adjustment is to be broken up. Many of the traits, apparently so stable, will disap- pear or decline in the next stage; but while it lasts it presents a definite picture of a well-adjusted ex- istence, suggesting a very interesting parallel in racial development. Youth seems to be a culmination of one line of development, appears to represent what was once a long-maintained and stable period of simple existence ; when, in a warm climate, the young of our species once shifted for themselves independ- ently of any further parental care, much earlier than now. Heredity, in this stage of youth, is more stable and more secure, because older and better estab- lished in the race. The elements of personality are few, but very well organised on an effective and simple plan. These qualities of the youth are much older than the traits of present civilisation, and they represent habits that existed untold ages before the later human attributes were developed. The child seems mature because many of his traits are precisely those that have belonged to an earlier adult life; traits which, in an ever-lengthening stage of imma- turity in the individual have been left behind. Physi- cal maturity now comes later, but many qualities which once accompanied it recur at the time of youth, which was once the age of maturity. The mind is filled with rudimentary organs, instincts belonging to an earlier age, which now develop, but leave the in- dividual later immune to them; instincts which, if DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES 81 motived by the full powers of maturity would become dangerous to civilisation, as they do even now in rare cases in which, during the period of adolescence, they are sometimes hypertrophied. Last comes adolescence, the study of which is full of interest for philosophy, psychology, and education. The whole period may be said to extend from about thirteen to thirty-three; — years which, considered as a whole, must be interpreted to mean the coming to full maturity, and the acquirement, by the individual, of the latest stratum of racial development. The first two years may be called the pubertal pe- riod. During this time the organs of reproduction come to maturity. This period extends from about twelve or thirteen to fourteen or fifteen, but differs in the two sexes. Until the end of youth, growth in boys and girls has been much the same; but at the end of the twelfth year in girls, and the fourteenth in boys, there is a period of rapid acceleration in growth, lasting for about two years, and it is at the end of that time that the signs of physical maturity are established. This is one of the most clearly marked transitional periods of life. Besides the more special changes, the body as a whole shows signs of rapid maturing. In girls the figure becomes more round, the pelvic bones change, both in shape and in position, and the gait is altered. In boys mus- cular strength increases greatly, and the whole body begins to take on adult characters. The features change to their adult form; new resemblances appear suddenly, as though there were a struggle among 82 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION hereditary tendencies for permanent establishment. The voice changes. The health is likely to be ca- pricious. Nervous disorders, especially emotional derangement, are prevalent. Abnormal cravings, im- pulses, and habits often take possession for a time. Everything, in fact, indicates profound changes and upheaval within the organism. The growth force now becomes susceptible to influences from without and from within, and there is danger of disorder and disease. The great evil threatened is that the indi- vidual may not now be able to come to full and com- plete maturity. Many show the effects of imperfect completion ; of having been arrested or perverted, in some part or function, at some stage short of per- fection. This occurs in all degrees, from very slight disturbance of balance, or deficiency in some one function, to profound abnormality of the whole per- sonality. The cause of the phenomena of adolescence just described, considered physiologically, is the sudden ripening of functions and parts connected with the sexual life, which, besides causing many secondary changes in the body, send to the brain a great mass of new impressions, upsetting the old order and bal- ance. The co-ordination of the parts is, as it were, broken up for the purpose of introducing new ele- ments. The whole mental and physical personality suddenly becomes larger, richer, and more complex, and at the same time is disordered and put out of adjustment. Many hitherto dormant rudimentary or- gans of both body and mind appear, which seem each DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES 83 to obey a law of its own, some now flourishing tem- porarily, some becoming permanent. The whole or- ganism now becomes more plastic, and subject to all sorts of influence; individuality is more pronounced, and individuals now differ more from one another than in the previous stages. In a word, the simple order of life that has prevailed in childhood has been broken up by the introduction of new elements, and a new adjustment, inner and outer, is demanded. The changes that occur in the mental life during adolescence are so many and so radical that it is difficult to describe them all. They are to be inter- preted as due to the appearance of old hereditary factors, which now struggle for ascendency in the life of the individual. Perhaps the most significant change is the excessive craving for all kinds of sense experiences. The impulse is to touch life at every point, and to expand in every faculty. The centre of all the changes may be said to be the moral life. Indeed the whole meaning of adolescence is moral. The child has suddenly become an adult, and the duties of maturity begin to press for recognition. He has changed from a self-centred individual, liv- ing physically and mentally for himself, to a ma- tured organism, whose life is henceforth to be lived as a service to the race. This change involves the whole body and mind, and is to be interpreted bio- logically. It has been recognised in every race, and its moral import has found expression in many forms. Its most conspicuous expression has been recognised as religious conversion, but conversion is only a focal- 84 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION ised form of what is going on in every part of the organism. However expressed, adolescence is a time of moral crisis, when evil strives to get posses- sion of the life. But when growth is normal the youth soon emerges from this crisis with impulses well in hand and directed toward normal activities. This changed and deepened note is felt in every part of the emotional life. The whole pleasure and pain field is greatly widened. Routine becomes irk- some and there is struggle against authority. The consciousness Of self is exaggerated, and there is likely to be both increased selfishness and altruism. The so- cial instinct is deeply affected, with oftentimes changes from extreme sensitiveness to indifference. Love of nature is often remarkably deepened, and nature seems to become a new revelation to the youth. There is love of solitude, craving for wandering, stirrings of the impulse to break away from the parental home, and to establish a new and wider environment. Taking into account all such facts it is difficult to explain the upheaval of adolescence on any other the- ory than that now the stage of later civilisation in the race has gained the ascendency in the individual. The youth had been adjusted to an older order, cor- responding to the pre-civilised stage of human life, a life relatively simple, easy, and secure. Now, just before sexual maturity, which has been delayed to allow the growing individual to utilise all possible hereditary forces, the last stratum of racial life bursts into the consciousness. At first there is upheaval. Even after the first two years of the new life adjust- DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES 85 ment to practical conditions is less perfect than in youth ; but now the individual has a breadth and depth of foundation for building a much greater structure. This age now represents the time when, in the race, struggle became more mental than physical. There- fore the effect of environment is less directly upon conduct, and more upon feeling and instinct. It is an age before the dawn of history, in which the great thoughts of the race were in the making; it is a time that has faded from the conscious memory of man, leaving no trace, except in myth, story, and tradition. These are the reasons why adolescence is one of the most important problems of the new genetic psy- chology. For in adolescence there is still the trace from which we may reconstruct the history of the race. In this transitory stage the manner of thought and feeling of our progenitors is revealed. This story of the effort of the race to reach anew spiritual level is told in every literature. It is the theme in all mythical creations and all ethnic Bibles. The Bible of Christianity itself is such a story of the history of the race, more complete than any other in recounting the whole progress of the race of man. But there is another aspect of adolescence, both in its individual and racial meaning. For consider what takes place in the life of the youth. All the past is striving to be heard in him, and to come into harmony in a single life. All racial ideals fight for mastery. Each generation of the past demands some- thing of him. For a time he lives in the hope of fulfilling all this promise. He holds every ideal, 86 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION and is not yet prepared to sacrifice any of them. But soon he loses something of this first hope. More and more is found to be unattainable, and at last he is content to do but a small part of what his ideals and fancies impelled him to attempt. Adult- hood is thus, in a very real sense, a fall and a de- generation. The adult must sacrifice his ideals for himself, but he does not altogether abandon them. He must be content to plan and build so that his off- spring can carry on his part, and in them he attains vicariously the wishes of his youth. Thus adolescence points both to the past and the future. It reveals the history of the race, its ex- periences and ideals, but it also sums up in itself all that the race has tried to do, has dreamed, and will yet attain. It points to the super-man, and for a brief time every adolescent represents the man who is to be. It is from this point that the race must build its culture. It must grow by means of an ever higher adolescence carried to an ever higher degree of fulfilment of its promise. At adolescence the in- dividual is at his highest point of susceptibility to evolutionary influences, as well as to devolutionary influences ; and whatever is done to adolescence is done to the future of the race. Whatever delays it and brings it at last to a fuller maturity is helping to bring the race to a greater perfection ; whatever enables adolescence to contribute more of its best work to the world is adding to the highest culture. It is the adolescent who must create the new ideals. And he must work quickly while the enthusiasm of DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES 87 his plastic age is upon him, and before the spirit of old age, which is content to hold what is gained, has supervened. References. — 196, 198, 276, 287. PART II GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION CHAPTER VIII GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION In the light of our review of the principles of mental and physical development education can now be defined as conscious evolution. Its chief end is to carry on the race toward perfection, by bringing the youth of each succeeding generation to a higher degree of development than the one which has pre- ceded. All institutions are to be judged according as they fulfil this one supreme purpose. All the great problems of the day must be regarded as in the last analysis educational problems, for their right solu- tions must be first of all such as will secure the advancement of the coming generation toward per- fection of its virtues. The future of the nation de- pends, absolutely, upon the education of the young, and therefore education is the greatest of all political problems. The chief danger of our times is over-individuation, the failure of youth to make the change at adoles- cence by which, reaching the completest maturity, it becomes physically and mentally devoted to the serv- ice of the race; and that therefore the present gen- eration will draw upon the capital that should be 91 92 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION preserved for the next. To a certain point we do most for the young by developing our own powers, but there is a point beyond which self-indulgence robs the future. Faith in the future of the race and love for youth are thus the moving forces in all right education. It is the function of all to partici- pate in the welfare of the young, each in his own way. Thus teaching, in some sense, is a universal occupation. It is involved in all other practical aims of life, and should be in the minds of all whatever their work may be. Statesmanship, religion, science, are valuable, according as they contribute to the prog- ress and ever higher development of man. The great- est of all reforms are educational reforms, and no others are complete until they affect education. Therefore progress in education is the best test of progress of civilisation. And the philosophy of edu- cation is the most fundamental philosophy. Its prob- lem is nothing less than to understand life in such a way as to be able to construct an ideal environ- ment for the development of the man who is to be, an environment which shall bring to the fullest unfold- ing every power and part of mind and body ; that shall be intellectual training, physical culture, and still more education of the feelings and the will. All the culture material of the race must be adjusted wisely to the needs of the growing child. No edu- cational system, no school nor college is an end in itself, merely to serve our own 'generation, but all must be judged as factors in evolution. When we recall also that the school is the most universal of all GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 93 social institutions, the depth and breadth of its prob- lem becomes clear. All who work in philosophic and scientific fields should be moved by this pragmatic ideal of knowl- edge, if they are to hold the right conception of their task. Too often the ideal of knowledge for its own sake is held up. This is narrow and selfish, and antagonistic to evolution, for it places the interests of the individual before those of the race. The largest possible aspect of all the truths of life and mind is practical — educational. The final test of the validity of all truths is their ability to satisfy certain deep needs. No system of thought is ever completely tested until it has been applied to the education of the young. It is a growing appreciation of this ideal on the part of educators, which is working a change from interest centred in the school as an institution to interest grounded in a love of childhood, and a willingness to fit the school to the child, rather than the child to the school. One of the cardinal principles of a philosophy of education is that its ideals must centre upon an in- terest in adolescence. Education began in a deep re- gard for youth and its mysterious transformation. Its first public institution was the initiation of youth at puberty, and it has spread upward and downward — downward to the kindergarten and the scientific care and training of infants, and upward to the uni- versity. But always the chief interest has been in the youth approaching maturity. It is this age that the Greek education emphasised, and as a result the 94 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION Greeks attained the highest culture any race has ever had. Youth sets the standards for our ideal of what man is to be. And to produce the qualities in abun- dance, to preserve them on into age, is the great prac- tical task of education. Education, in its widest sense, includes, therefore, all conscious evolution. It comprises both the meth- ods of teaching and also the principles of inner growth, and the means of modifying it. It must con- sider everything that affects the individual. Re- garded scientifically, it is the science which deals with environment in its relation to the growing child. Considered practically, it is the control of environ- ment in the interest of normal development. Its pur- pose is humanistic and evolutionary. The art of teaching, in the narrower sense, that is, the art of imparting knowledge, is but a small part of educa- tion; it includes many other influences than those of the school. A comprehensive pedagogy, or science of education, must go to many sources for its facts. It must be based first of all upon the history of all educational influences of the race. This history must include the story of all that has been done for the youth, in all grades and schools, in all lands and in all stages of civilisation. It must include, too, the description of the teaching instinct among animals, and of domes- tication of animals by primitive peoples, as well as of the influence of civilised nations upon savage peoples. Next, a science of education must draw upon facts GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 95 from all the experimental and other studies of mental and physical abilities and of growth; it must include all hygienic principles pertaining to youth, and many principles of psychology and medicine. Pedagogy must take into account, next, the whole subject of the culture material of the race. Each subject that can be made a part of the curriculum must be studied by itself with reference to its develop- ment, and to every phase of its culture value. This must include the study of everything the race has formulated from its experiences that is worthy to be passed on to future generations: literature, myths, music, games, art — everything that has culture value. Next, pedagogy must be based upon the ideals and principles that may be derived from a study of racial and individual genesis, and this is the most funda- mental part of the subject. For the study of genesis not only provides the true ideals of education, and reveals the standards in reference to which all educa- tional values must be judged, but at the same time it suggests principles of educational practice; tells us how that which appears as an ideal may be ac- complished. It is the best means of judging past values in education; it is a means of correcting or confirming judgments of educational values based upon feelings, preferences, and common sense. In this most fundamental of all points of view for study- ing education, is the promise of a system in the future which shall be both scientific and professional in spirit. 96 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION Such a conception of a science of education must make it evident at the outset that no present philosoph- ical system is adequate to be a basis of it. More than any other subject education must take all points of view. It must comprise the good of all systems of thought. It must be idealistic, rationalistic, in- tuitionistic. It must contain all philosophies if it is to continue to grow to meet the needs of successive moments in the process of evolution. It must wel- come anything that will serve its purposes, and will bring it nearer the ultimate truth. The magnitude of the problem has not yet been grasped, because the complexity of the growing mind and its needs are not yet fully understood. It is this thought that is at the bottom of the new education. It means a turn of interest from the school to the child. It puts the child into the centre and demands that all ideals and methods of educa- tion must be judged finally by a knowledge of the facts of child nature, and an interpretation of these facts in terms of the experience and ideals of the race. All reforms in education have in the past come from recognition of these truths, and have been in- spired by a true knowledge of the child. The fault has been that knowledge of the child has been assumed to follow from acquaintance with the adult mind. This is not true. The child is not the same as an adult. The psychology of the growing, play- ing, learning child is the centre of the new philosophy of education. He will do most for education who will point out the way to a better understanding of the GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 97 child, and he will stand most in the way of new ideals who becomes complacent and routine in his philosophy, and whose attention is fixed upon the mechanism and system of the school rather than upon the needs of the child. The study of the child, then, or human genetic psychology, is the very centre of the science and prac- tice of education. This cannot be too strongly em- phasised, nor too often repeated. Nearly all who have spoken with authority about education have done so from an intimate knowledge of childhood, and this must continue to be true. It is from the study of all stages of childhood from infancy to adult life that the new light is already appearing in educational philosophy. In the study of the mind of the child both philosophy and education are going back to their natural beginnings. This new knowl- edge is having the effect, too, of convicting some of our most revered knowledge and methods of the past of great errors. It is causing a turning away from the transcendental philosophy upon which many have been accustomed to lean for their practical principles, to a view in which the elemental instincts and com- mon sense are respectfully heard. Such a new phi- losophy of education precisely meets the needs of our times in many respects, and it is likely to lay the foundation, not only of an educational theory, but of a new philosophy. It is a philosophy of solvable questions, in which common people can participate and the answers to which can be applied to the prac- tical affairs of men. It is bringing new hope into 98 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION a field that was in danger of lapsing into a narrow- philosophy. This new educational science has al- ready passed judgments upon many of the most im- portant questions of both matter and methods of teaching in all grades — verdicts, which, when still further confirmed by genetic evidence, will be final, and will give education what it has so long lacked, a truly scientific basis. It will establish teaching as a profession, and make it the most important of all callings. Such philosophy is one in which all can partake. It may be applied to all grades of school, from the kindergarten to the college. It gives us true ideals for the home, for it makes love of child- hood the centre of all its teachings. Already, both in its practical and its scientific aspects, it is being felt in religion, in medicine, in the treatment of juve- nile crime — in fact everywhere where the nature of the human individual comes into question. Another lesson from the history of education is that all new work — all ideals, progress, and reform — comes from without the system, from science, from the university at the top of the system. Educational institutions of themselves tend to become narrow, mechanical, and routine. Ideas and ideals are en- gulfed in the magnitude of the system and are sup- pressed. Schools are prone to become mere conserva- tors and disseminators of knowledge, and their methods to remain stagnant. Stimulus from without the system has never before been felt so profoundly as has the new genetic science. The greatest merit of this new view is that it has GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 99 opened problems, and unsettled many conclusions that were contentedly accepted as fixed. Its greatest op- ponents, as one might expect, have been those who, like the Herbartians, have wished to live by a definite philosophy, that could be formulated with precision, and be applied to educational methods ; and that could be taught, in rules and formulas, to all teachers. Un- like these philosophies, child study insists upon keep- ing many questions open and free from formulation into fixed conclusions for practice, and insists that, although education must eventually be based upon a science of human nature, the longer the delay before practical conclusions are rigidly applied, the better it will be for the child, and the broader and deeper will be the foundation of the science of education. Almost all problems of education need further study by genetic methods. These are the kinds of research that must be the foundation of all educational prac- tice in the future. Along these lines teachers must be instructed. They must learn to study children for themselves. To deal practically with anything in any other than a formal and routine way, one must under- stand its nature. This has not been sufficiently im- pressed upon teachers, in regard to the nature of the child. The ideal that has been held before them, and which they have too readily accepted, is that of perfecting the art of imparting knowledge, rather than of nourishing or unfolding the child. Attention has been too strongly fixed upon subject matter, and too little upon the child. Teachers are likely to think they have all the knowledge of childhood they need ioo GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION from a memory of their own, failing to see how imperfect memory is, how narrow the experience and partial the character of any one individual. Nor does the course in psychology usually taken by teach- ers supply the need. For the psychology learned is too abstract, and is too much devoted to definition and controversy and the minute analysis of the adult mind. In this way it may unfit rather than fit for the work of teaching. The teacher must study the living child, in all his aspects, and must learn how to go to the child for knowledge. The point of view must be far different from that which has prevailed — that of uniformity. This older view provides too little for the individual. Equal opportunity is its ideal. The elective system, which has now spread from the higher to the lower department of the school, indicates what the new view-point is to be. The new knowledge of the nature of childhood and youth that the genetic psychology has brought to view shows clearly the educational problem that is before us, and at the same time reveals the chief end and aim and underlying principles of all education. The transmission of knowledge is but a small part of the work. Its great purpose is biological; it is to develop the child normally, to the greatest maturity and sanity. This needs to be said over and over again, for it is the central thought of the new educa- tion which is founded upon biology. If our race ever begins to degenerate it will not be from lack of knowl- edge handed on from one generation to another, but from the failure of education to understand its whole GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 101 problem ; to see that the great work is to bring the child up through the stages of growth, and to carry each generation a little further than the preceding. If education fails to be a factor in evolution, and does not perform this developmental function, all the arts of instruction of the young cannot prevent de- terioration. Our work is not so much to teach knowl- edge as to assist the race in acquiring instincts, by which all its highest ideals may be carried out in the most complete manner. Such a perfecting of in- stincts can be accomplished in but one way, by bring- ing out inheritance in the child to its fullest power, by inculcating new impulses and ideals, and by stim- ulating moral interests at precisely the times when they may sink deepest and may most influence con- duct. By creating instinct which regulates the con- duct of the individual in the interest of the species, we are educating in the truest sense. That learning and morality which comes merely as an acquisition of the individual, as a self-conscious adjustment, and which can be imparted through fact-learning and by all the imperfect arts of teaching now so prevalent, is but a make-shift and a substitute for true learn- ing, which is the real aim of education. There are three ideals which have prevailed, or do now prevail, in educational philosophy. According to the first, education is at its highest an inculcation of the best traditions of the past. It reveres Greece and Rome, and the purpose of education, according to this ideal, is to bring the child into contact with this an- cient life, and enable him to absorb its lessons in 102 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION such a way as to refine his nature, to set him apart from the common herd as a cultured man. This ideal has been most consistently represented by that most conservative of all educational institutions, the de- nominational college. The second ideal is represented by the tendency of society to make its schools in its own image, and to measure their efficiency by their success in fitting the child for the domestic, political and industrial life of the present time. This ideal of fitting for present life, for service in existing institutions, though im- measurably better than that of fitting in accordance with a by-gone past, also brings with it a danger of narrowness and provincialism. It tends to select only such knowledge as the adult mind finds useful for its own purposes, and to neglect the knowledge most suited to the child. It leads to utilitarianism, and is illiberal. Those who thus conceive education place the school organisation first, and subordinate the indi- vidual to it. Citizenship looms large in comparison with womanhood and manhood. Its greatest fault is that, with a definite ideal of efficiency in life work constantly held before the youth, it fits too narrowly for practical tasks. It leads to too early and too nar- row specialisation of interests, to an over-individual- ised and selfish life, in which the larger conceptions of manhood are lost. But there is a third ideal which teaches that the school shall not be made in the image of the past nor of the present, but shall fit man for the next stage of his development. In the present stage of rapid GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 103 transition and expansion of our race this ideal of the future must be more dominant than ever before, or we shall deteriorate as a nation and fall behind in the race. Our children must be trained not merely to maintain present civilisation, but to advance upon it. We must never forget that the present is not a finality. And, knowing the spirit of the age, we must quite as often oppose it as serve it. Education must always see that no good of the past be lost, but on the other hand it must infuse into youth a deep discontent with things as they are, and it must give ideals leading to the next step in human evolution. That is, education must always fit youth to live in the future, not in the present nor in the past. The grammar school may well have as its purpose to teach with reference to the present conditions, and may aim to impart the great mass of useful knowledge which represents this ideal, but the high school and the college must turn toward the future. In them personality must be unfolded to its uttermost, with the assurance that state, industry, family, church, will be transformed and made to fit it and not the reverse. The adult cannot understand adolescence fully, and is too likely to limit its ideal and to turn it toward the present or the past. The wise teacher will more often follow than lead. He must let youth develop fully before the life of practical service begins, in order to make that practical life more effective and com- plete. Even under the most favourable conditions the individuality which now culminates will all too soon be cut short by adult interests, so that the best 104 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION that education can do is to prolong this stage of transi- tion as long as possible, until the broadest possible maturity is reached; until the most complete message the past has to offer is delivered, and thus the truest ideals for the future may be established. Education, thus understood, is through and through moral in its intention. Its work is to fit the child for life, for a moral life in a social community, and yet a life in which fitness for the present is not the only ideal. Education is essentially a setting of ideals, and it can truly be said that there is nothing so prac- tical as moral ideals. The school must represent the community, but in its relation to past, present, and future. It must aid the child to use to the fullest extent the hereditary forces which well up within him. It must give him the best of current culture, must fit him to live with a practical conception of present needs, and yet it must set his face strongly toward the future. It must inculcate a desire to live for the fu- ture, in the service of humanity. The school must, therefore, keep in touch with life at every point. It must not only represent or mirror life; it must pre- pare for it, and create it. We can advance one step toward a conception of education by defining what fitness for life actually means. Fitting for life means preparation for a whole, complete life, for practical everyday service ; yet in such a way that the individual develops nor- mally and fully. The basis of a practical education is, therefore, fitting for occupation, and finally for specialised interests and labour. However circuitous GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 105 the process may be by which the higher specialisation is reached, this must be the ideal and goal. This idea is elemental. The greatest problem of education is to secure this result, to adjust the ideals of service and self-interests, to reconcile culture and practical life, to bring into harmony the teaching of fact and the ideals of mental training. Only in a biological conception of growth of the individual, that is, of development in relation to the evolution of the race, can we find guiding principles in these problems, or obtain any clue to the true order of education. The main principle of this biological view of edu- cation, and the manner in which it reconciles the prac- tical and the disciplinary or cultural aspects of train- ing, is simple enough so that one who runs may read. The child recapitulates in his growth the racial ex- periences, and arrives at last at the stage of develop- ment of his own social environment. This process does not, however, lead by definite practical steps, in a man-made and logical sense, to an equally prac- tical end. It is circuitous, and it often seems for the time to be leading directly away from the specialised activity in which it must end. But it is practical in the sense that if the individual be allowed to follow under favourable conditions his natural course of de- velopment, or if his education be directed in such a way as to assist and not interfere with these natural steps, he will arrive at the end of his circuitous jour- ney at a point at which he will represent the best experiences of the past, be best fitted to adapt himself to present institutions, and will have besides a mo- 106 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION mentum of growth and interest to go beyond the ideals of his day, and to lead a life of the highest efficiency in the service of the future. The work of education is, precisely, to direct this development in such a way that special abilities and interests may develop at the right time out of general interests, and to prolong whenever possible the periods of prepara- tion. This biological conception of education there- fore unifies the two ideals — the practical, which de- mands that the child be taught in school that which will be directly useful to him ; and the cultural, which demands that the mind of the child be trained in a general way, represented in its extreme form by the Latin and Greek ideal. The ideal, in the biological conception of education, becomes the practical, and the practical is seen to be the ideal. The child learns, and becomes adapted to, practical life by passing through all the stages through which the practical ac- tivities of the race have passed, and this is, at the same time, the highest type of culture which he can absorb. He must practise for a time that which shall be but a temporary interest in order to proceed, by nature's way, to the next higher step. He must be at each step the best possible representative of his race at that stage, cultivating broad interests and many abili- ties in order that later they may be brought to the best practical application. Merely to teach what is practical without reference to the needs of the stage of growth ; to impart knowledge precisely in the form in which it is to be applied in adult life, is the greatest violation of this principle. Training the mind upon GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 107 the adult's interests and culture material, without reference to the time or manner in which it is taught, is the great pedagogical sin. This view of education, which must recur again and again in every problem of the curriculum, may be illustrated by an analogy from physical growth. In the earlier periods in the development of all mammals, the embryo passes through stages that do not in the least indicate what the adult form will be and which from practical considerations would seem wrong and superfluous. And yet these stages are of the utmost importance, for many of the most essential higher structures could not be produced without them. Pre- cisely this principle holds, to use a single illustra- tion, in the growth of the tad-pole's tail, which is in itself of no conceivable use to the adult frog, but con- tains the means of development of his legs. This bio- logical principle is more than analogous to the principle of human mental growth. It is the same principle. The practical is the natural and the normal. However much the process may be obscured in the later stages on account of their complexity, the child is just as certainly passing through nature-made stages to the end of his growth, and he is becoming practical often- times by apparently unpractical means. Education must take the indirect and unpractical way of nature of arriving at the practical end. It may not merely teach the child the facts it wishes him to use or apply, for the simple reason that knowledge is not power. Interest must be created, and power and momentum generated, by following nature's steps, for they can be 108 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION gained in no other way. The whole history of animal life enforces this view. It is a fundamental biological law. Education must take the biological rather than the logical road to its end. Applied in detail, of course this principle meets with many difficulties and obstacles. The child is complex, his stages of growth are ob- scured, and are often foreshortened in ways which are but little understood as yet, for we have not thus far a criterion of normal development based suffi- ciently on facts, nor have we a satisfactory theoretical formulation of the principle of recapitulation. Yet it must stand as the first principle of education and must be kept in view in considering every great problem of the school. We must understand that the child's life must be kept sacred to heredity, that the past can teach him far more than his teacher will be able to impart to him ; that nature will direct his growth and point out the steps, and that only by taking advantage of the momentum of this past, and building upon the structures which nature establishes can education be made to assist nature. Otherwise nature and educa- tion will be in conflict in ways that can not fail to do harm to the child. The problem of education is to discover the stages and manner of transformations in the child, and learn how to facilitate growth, com- plete the co-ordination of these stages into a unity, supply the right culture or nutritive material, suited to each stage. Only thus can we expect to find educa- tional standards, to protect against the many influ- ences in society — in home, school, church, civilisation generally — which tend to break up the natural process GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 109 of growth of the child, make him precocious, drive him too early to specialised and practical life, and teach him what he is not ready to learn. Though individuals differ greatly, not only in regard to the age of appearance of racial steps, but in their combination and sequences, a knowledge of nascent stages and interests, studied in masses of individuals, by methods of average and the like, will be for the present the best safeguard against many of the evils of the present educational system, and will furnish the best standards for curriculum and method-making. The first problem is to learn how to recognise the stages in which nature is at work, and we must then allow these stages free play, suiting instruction and culture to them with full confidence that the insight of nature and of the race is better than the wisdom of the individual, and that if nature be wrong, it will certainly be impossible to devise a method that shall contain less dangers of errors. Two periods of life, infancy and adolescence, show so clearly the working of nature directing all their transformations that here at least we may be reasonably sure of the proper method of education. We must in both these stages be careful not to try to accelerate nature and we must be equally sure that there are no retarding influences. Good nutrition is the only accelerating factor which may normally hasten stages of growth. All external forcing is antagonistic to nature. Interest welling up from within shows the way; the hands that guide must have a light touch. If this biological principle be the true foundation no GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION of the theory of education, one must see that the play of the child most truly reveals his true nature, and most clearly indicates the lines upon which educational practice must be planned. Play is the most uni- versal activity in the world. It is nature's product, and in it the child shows clearly the stages through which he passes. Play is to the highest degree prac- tical, for, although it has no immediate end whatever in view, it accomplishes the highest purpose of bring- ing out in the child his hereditary forces, of helping him through the racial steps, of bringing him to the most complete maturity and efficiency. Play repre- sents both the past and the future. In play the child exercises what is racially old, but play also points to the future, for it is the basis of the power of all that is to come, and in that sense, it is in the highest degree practical. Many of the child's activities reach useful ends in no other way, for they live but a short time, and then give place to new interests. Yet they perform a part by taking their necessary place in the natural order of progress of the child toward higher stages. The child is most natural and whole when he is at play, and it is the playing child that the educator must study more than any other subject in order to learn his methods. Many play interests may be trans- ferred bodily to the practice of education, for the child is capable of developing every ability and func- tion in his play. Whenever, in the school, the nat- ural play interest may be brought in, there is work being accomplished; for then the child is in his own element, and his mind is active through inner motives. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION in Free activity of mind and body, doing what the child tends to do, when he is left to act himself out freely, must be the spirit of education. Of course as re- gards, details of application of this principle, we are but at the beginning of the problem. We do not yet know what stages of growth are in the process of becoming shortened, what should be prolonged and intensified, nor to what extent nature may be helped by precisely the right assistance at the right time. We do not know what of the past experience of the race is least of service in the present. We do not know how nature is trying to choose and thread her way up through the hereditary stages, so do not know how to choose just those forms of culture materials most suited to each step. We do not yet know how to direct the play activities in such a way as to facili- tate to the greatest extent the working off of unde- sirable traits in development, which is one of the most important functions of the play life. Play, we must understand, is vastly more than a motor function. Both body and mind pass through their play stages, and for every developing faculty there is a period of unpractical and free activity, which we can call nothing else than play. In all these transformations the general pattern of the process is the child's own, the spirit in which everything is done is the outgrowth of force working within, and is not imparted from without. The adult may choose the material upon which the child's play interest shall ex- pend itself, but he cannot create this force, and he must not try to direct it into channels unnatural to it. 112 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION There must, therefore, be no fundamental distinc- tion between play and work, nor between play and study. Education must begin in play, and the play spirit must pervade all work. It is the most economic mode of activity and therefore it must be made use of whenever it is possible. It must be carried on through all the periods of education, and adult life must be suffused with its spirit. To the extent that this can be done, the chasm between self-sacrifice and self-expression will be closed. Play is the best or- ganiser of activities, and it is by moulding the play forces in childhood and youth that life may be organ- ised into a connected whole, with interests properly proportioned to the needs of the individual. Work, without interest, action with defective psychic impul- sion, is the tragedy of the world. It brings fatigue, and fatigue is the greatest of all deterrents of normal progress, whether in race or individual. It arrests growth and action, and makes for permanent arrest in low stages of function and structure. The opposite extreme of such a mode of educating the child is that which tries to impart to him the rudi- ments of an artificial culture apportioned according to the standards and ideals of an adult mind. For its motive forces, to create interest, it depends upon fear, prizes, examinations, upon various forms of ar- tificial rewards and penalties, near and remote. Its method is acquisition and not use nor growth. Such a method plays havoc with all the nascent stages of growth. It sets up a logical, rather than a genetic or natural, ideal. It over-emphasises form, and neg- GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 113 lects content. It tries to develop by mere mental train- ing. It has no true place for natural interest, and it forgets that knowledge is not an end in itself, and that study is not merely for training the faculties. It selects studies in which there is a minimum of pleasure in the pursuit, with the hope of a maximum of good from the effort to acquire knowledge. Meth- ods of drill and exactness are placed before methods of stimulation and suggestion. Such an ideal is wrong, and it cannot possibly lead to the fullest maturity. In it the order of nature is entirely lost, and even in- verted. Subjects are taught, not with reference to what they will do for the child, nor with regard to what the child will do with them, but according to an artificial and superficial conception of practical use or training for present use as a step in the educa- tional process, and leading to examination for the next grade ahead. Everything is taught in the logical order in which it is contained in the text-book, and in the teacher's mind. The teacher's mind should be charged with his subject to overflowing, if he is to have the best effect upon the mind of his pupil. But instead of that, too often the teacher knows but little more than is contained in the texts he teaches, and he takes one subject or another, as need demands, with but little special preparation. In this way the manner of teach- ing is put before the content taught, and the disciplin- ary value of the subject, its usefulness as a means of bringing out desired qualities of effort or attention of the pupil, is put above the nutritive value or timeliness of the subject matter. There is too much of rule and 114 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION precision, and definite learning of formulas. All such methods, which conceal from the pupil the vast world of knowledge, and give him a few facts and principles, tend to make for a conceit of knowledge that destroys natural curiosity. Mass teaching still further depletes the nourishing effects of the teaching. There is method and uniformity. The same matter is taught year after year by the teacher, and his store of knowledge becomes antiquated and not suited to the present needs of the child. All such objections fall under the one general criticism that the school method that is based upon the adult's conception of knowledge and its uses violates the nature of the child's mind. The school takes the child away from the natural conditions of the home and society in which he can live out his na- tive impulses, and puts him under restraint, too often with a teacher who is more disciplinarian than truly teacher. Such treatment at its worst makes an early maturity, but one lacking in depth. It takes away natural childhood and makes the youth old in thoughts before his time. All such ideals violate the play spirit of childhood. We must not forget that the school, at its best, is but an artifice on the part of man to cope with conditions that a somewhat abnormal state of life in civilisation has brought about. And we must not forget the true significance of the school, as indi- cated by its very name, which means leisure. The school rightly stands for a prolongation of human infancy. It is sacred to growth, health, and heredity, and to the play-spirit. The first effort must be to keep out of nature's way. Every invasion of the child's GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 115 natural leisure has a presumption against it, and must justify itself. We are too likely to worship the alphabet and the multiplication table, and to forget that even reading and writing are but recent acquirements of the race, and that millions of years of man's history have been lived without them ; that, finally, there are many children who ought never to be educated in the routine of the school. There are other forms of education, yet the school is likely to think itself the only educative factor in the child's life. In a sense it still does but poorly what a more primitive agricultural life did for the child; the life in which labour was more undifferen- tiated and in which the child took a part in the home and in the activities of society and received most of his education by activity and contact with his elders. Such a life still lingers in the country, and represents an educational system from which the modern school has still much to learn. The farm was a great nat- ural laboratory. It trained a child to usefulness, with- out destroying his play spirit, nor making his life artificial. It was rich in moral elements, and opened all the interests in nature to safeguard youth during the times of greatest danger to health and morals. Biological education demands, as its first principle, that we stand out of the way of nature and allow it to have its own way with the child. It declares that the great need of the whole period of development of the child is to live out each stage, lingering in that stage as though it were to be the last. It asks that the child's growth be, for the most part, retarded rather than n6 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION hastened, in order to give all the nascent stages time to fully ripen. To linger at leisure in each recapitula- tory stage, so that each individual may experience all the life the race has experienced, is the ideal. This is also the most practical education, for the individual thus completed is the most mature, the most efficient and therefore the most economical for any society to produce in the greatest abundance possible. Much of the art of education consists in knowing how to make use of each recapitulatory stage, to make it yield most, and to serve as the best possible preparation for the next stage. The child must be educated in these lower stages with a full knowledge of their value and im- portance, and the culture material upon which his mind is nourished must be similar to that which the race itself, in these lower stages, used to fit itself to be the progenitor of superior types of human life. One of the chief functions of education, too, is to prevent the lower forms of interest and enthusiasm from becom- ing established, and to utilise every force in the lower to build the higher. In a word, to repeat what cannot be too strongly impressed, the biological principle de- mands that the child be allowed to live in and enjoy to the full each stage, while we provide for him whatever makes it more full, joyous, and free, at the same time moulding his energy and directing it toward the best ends. In this way the child is educating himself in ways of which he knows nothing. He is practising, in a harmless way, the great sins of the race, and fortify- ing himself against their later influence. He is drain- ing off rudimentary impulses, and unfolding from the GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 117 energy, thus set free, powers that he will later use in practical life. The teacher's art must now be to vivify all the resources of literature, tradition, and history, and supply the fullest culture he can command. The child must mature slowly, in every part and function, and this he cannot do unless there be plenty of ma- terials upon which the mind may linger. Otherwise the starved mind will pass on toward maturity more rapidly, but leave a shallow foundation for everything that is to follow. The worst form of all of the dreaded prococity is early sexual ripening, so likely to follow if the social life is too stimulating, and the child's natural interests are not properly fed. If the child's nature be played upon by mature impulses, if he be so trained that he imitate the adult rather than live through childhood's natural stages, some form of too early maturity is sure to ensue. Now, although we lack greatly a science of childhood complete enough so that we can detect each nascent period, or the precise relation, at any time, of indi- vidual to race ; and are as far as can be from a scien- tific pedagogy in the sense that we know exactly what culture material to apply at each point to each indi- vidual, we have one cardinal principle — one reliable means of determining the order and, to a certain extent, the proper method of teaching. This cardinal prin- ciple is that interest is the best test of capacity and of pedagogical ripeness. Interest is like bodily hunger, an expression of need, and the best expression nature or reason affords us of the child's requirements. The difference in the effect of activity that proceeds from Il8 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION interest developing from within, and activity that is forced upon the child against his native desires is very great indeed. These artificial interests can easily be created by the adult, for the child's capacity for in- terest is plastic, but the forced interest has no root, what is thus acquired is not assimilated, and it there- fore remains in the mind as a foreign body to impede growth and to lay the foundation for many an ill. Without natural interest there can be no normal de- velopment. Therefore the first work of the teacher is to discover interests, to put the child into situations in which interests will express themselves. Each stage of childhood is marked by its own inter- ests or nascent periods, in which activities develop from within. These are milestones to guide the teacher. To teach the young we must meet them on the ground of their own interests, for thus they will of themselves supply the power, while education directs and guides, stimulates, inspires, and nourishes. Adult interests and methods of learning must be kept assiduously in the background, and everything must be adapted to the child. When these nascent periods are better un- derstood, we shall have a far deeper insight than now into economic methods of teaching. The laws of these nascent periods are yet to be determined; we must know the age curve of growth and decay of each; we must learn precisely how much each function should be stimulated and when; how interests must best be treated in their stages of most rapid growth and of least growth ; how to train each individual with reference to his special abilities, whether to stimulate GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 119 greatly that which is prominent, and to bring abilities to the fullest development of which they are capable, or to educate more by training powers and parts that are weaker, in order to preserve proportions in the development, and to prevent individuality from becom- ing excessive. All these are problems that can be solved in but one way — that is, by accumulating evi- dence from many individuals with reference to every natural interest. Complete solution of all these ques- tions is an ideal of the future, but in the meantime the educator must work with the native interests as best he can, and try to understand the periods of the child's progress as determined by nature ; and he must not violate these by inflicting upon the child methods and order of studies arranged merely according to adult logic. It is only by following the course of natural development that the personality will be completely organised. An education that follows along the lines of inner development of the child's interests is the only one that trains the will properly. Such a cur- riculum has a natural, and not an artificial unity, and its great advantage is that, however complex the culture material, if its sequences follow the natural order, mental dissociation does not result, but mental unity. Such an education is the simple education, because it works upon elemental instincts, because it does nothing that the child does not of himself tend to do. It puts the individual into normal relations with his fellows, inculcates deep beliefs, fixes regular and deep habits of thought and action, brings out individuality, and lays the foundation for a specialisation which shall be 120 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION broadly based upon the natural interests and shall grow out of them. Such teaching and such culture material produce and strengthen elemental virtues and emotions. It is precisely in the opposite direction that much of the present over-culture leads. Too much knowledge out of relation to native needs distracts the mind rather than educates it. It prevents growth, both physical and mental, because natural enthusiasm is not aroused. It fatigues, because the will effort that it demands is not natural. Combined with the evils of city life, with its too many and too diverse attachments and interests, and its artificial stimulations of the mind, precocity and too early wisdom is fostered, and edu- cation fails to reach the most essential parts of the nature of the child, but merely informs, and prepares for examinations. These principles need to be emphasised again and again, for they are to be applied to every topic of the curriculum, and to every method of instruction. The first question to be asked in each case is whether the proposed thing suits the nature of the child as a race-recapitulating organism. If it does not it is wrong and unpedagogic, however dear it may be to the adult's heart. The applications of the principle are many, but the principle itself is simple and clear. Many problems of detail remain to be solved, but the method is plain and direct. Always the child must be inter- preted in his racial significance, both as an organism produced by the race and bearing its fruit, and guided by its experience; and also as an organism produced GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION 121 by the race in its own interests, to serve it by a life of specialised activity, to be perfected by such a course of training as nature itself has pointed out in its great fundamental lines. Knowledge of the mind, as thus understood, is necessary in dealing with every problem of childhood, from even before the birth of the indi- vidual, and on to the last stages of maturing. Edu- cation must rest upon a science of development. References. — 24, 28, 32, 43, 51, 76, 78, 84, 88, 92, 101, 105, 109, 116, 133, 143, 147, 155, I59> 162, 168, 170, 172, 188, 194, 196, 208, 220, 226, 227, 228, 245, 262, 264, 2?g, 282. CHAPTER IX PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION The biological principle that declares that mind and body have evolved together in the race and have de- veloped under the same laws in the individual, neces- sarily makes ample provision for the training of the body, when it is applied to the theory of education. Physical and industrial education are in an especial way natural, for they are older than all schools. Primi- tive life in the open air, in forest and country, con- tained many educational resources that have been sac- rificed in modern life. This still remains as an ideal. The abounding health that comes from a life of free activity is the foundation of all enthusiasms and inter- ests. To produce such a state of health in the child, so to imitate the state of nature that this can be se- cured, is the first function of the school. The health of the present generation is the only promise we have of the welfare of future generations. All institutions must be judged first of all from the standpoint of health. The care of the health, we may say with all the au- thority of biology, is the first duty of both home and school. Questions of food, exercise, and air are fun- damental. There is need of great reform and wide- 122 PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 123 spread public education on many problems of the physical life of the child. The feeding of infants needs to be put universally upon a more scientific basis, and the causes of the great mortality of infants in our cities must be better understood and removed. The duty of parents toward their children does not end with giving them birth and sustenance. They must use every means of bringing them to healthy and complete maturity. It must be a part of public education to teach parents how to do this, for upon it depends, more than upon anything else, the future of the race. When the child passes from the home to the school the problem is still first of all how to promote health. Parent, teacher, and physician must co-operate to keep the child healthy. Especially in the city, where life is hard for the child, must the school do its part. Without such interest in the physical welfare of the child the school is but a poor servant of the com- munity, for it neglects the most precious possession of society, the health of its young. Within the school the problems of health are many and serious. The school building itself should repre- sent the perfection of the builder's art. It should be situated with reference to the best air and light, and be free from all disturbing influences of every kind. The playgrounds should be more hygienic than most are now; and they should always be open. The soil should be prepared with special reference to its use, and the playground should not be closely fenced in, but open on all sides. Ventilation, heating, lighting, arrangement and form of desks, the hygienic aspects 124 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION of reading and writing, exercise and recesses, all the problems of length of periods of study, and their order, means of prevention of contagion, cleanliness of both child and the school — all these are serious scien- tific questions which appear large from the evolution- ary point of view and worthy of the closest study and attention by everyone responsible for the health of the child in the school. Outside the school there should be more provision for the welfare and health of the children. There should be reduced rates upon cars leading to parks and to the country. There must be an abundance of public play- grounds, of gymnasia and baths, and all vacant places in the city should be turned to account in providing for the play life of the child. Especially the health of the child in early adolescence must be the care of both school and home. There is need of a great awakening of interest in attention to the health at this time. It needs a science and hygiene all its own, its problems are so special and so different from those of other periods of childhood. Especially important at this time is sexual hygiene, for upon the proper care of the sexual organs and functions not only the health of the individual greatly depends during all the remaining years of his life, but the future of the race as well. At no other period of life is unhygienic living so prevalent, nor so harmful. Now the best of all controllable means of preserving and increasing the health of child and youth is prop- erly regulated muscle culture. Man is by nature a motor animal. All his interests have been motor in- PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 125 terests. Nearly half his body is muscle. Life is con- duct, and the muscular system is the only means of making of worth any thought or feeling that is ever experienced. We are coming to understand that ac- tivity is the key-note of life ; there is less and less use for mere knowing. Education must be at bottom ac- tivity, involving muscle and will, if it is to represent life and prepare for life. It is better to train a child so that by activity he adds ever so little to the values in the world, than that he should store up the greatest amount of unexpressed knowledge. Muscle strength and endurance are needed now more than ever before, especially in the great industries of the city, yet the city is the very place where it is least likely to be acquired and is most In danger of degenerating. For these reasons there is need of wide-spread and deep understanding of the function of muscle train- ing, in relation to health and efficiency both of mind and body, and of something like a revival of primitive interest in the active life. Especially is this true of the years of adolescence, when muscle development has its greatest opportunity, and when neglect of the muscles is the greatest fault of most of our educa- tional methods. At adolescence the muscles begin to increase rapidly in size and strength, the heart increases in size and power, and in thickness of its walls. Now, of all times, good muscle-habits must be established, for they are fundamental in the education of the will and the emotions. This is the surest entrance to the enthusiasms and to skilled activity, and the best of all protections against the moral evils of this trying period. 126 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION Two principles must be clearly appreciated in esti- mating the function of a motor education. The first is that muscle training is not only for the pufpose of increasing health and physical strength, but it is quite as much mental and moral discipline. Muscles are the organs by which we perfect habits, and by which we express ourselves in every way. Therefore motor training is quite as much a part of mental education as is any other discipline, and it must not be regarded as merely physical in effect. The second principle is that in the growth of the individual both the nervous mechanisms and muscles tend to develop in a fixed order, from fundamental to accessory. The individual follows the racial steps, and first are perfected the larger muscles and their nerve connections, those that mediate the racial movements. During childhood the great fundamental muscles of back, arms, and legs are most used, and they should be the parts upon which the greater part of motor training is centred. The finer movements have been produced as a superposed layer upon the fundamental, and they come later in the individual as they do in the race, and in an order fixed by nature. The school often violates this principle of motor development, and especially in the writing and busy work of the first grades the opposition to nature is seen. Many seem to think that because the child is little he must do little things, but quite the opposite is true. The smaller the child the coarser, larger, and freer must be his movements. The racial movements, the fragments of PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 127 motor interests that well up in the child and flourish for a time are signs that hereditary forces are func- tioning. These should have free expression in play, for they generate plasticity, make the motor experi- ence rich and full, and lay a foundation for later, more refined, and more skilful movements. The period of from eight to twelve or thereabouts is a time of development of the finer movements, when skill in many directions may be acquired naturally and without danger to nervous mechanisms. This is the time indeed when skilful movements may most easily be learned, and most perfectly established for life. At adolescence again comes a period of rapid development of fundamental movements. The great muscles now have a period of rapid second growth, and this is the time when they must be trained and must function in enthusiastic activities. This is, in fact, the one time of life when muscular power may be acquired and if muscles are not now trained there is danger that there will be imperfect control or weakness, and wrong motor habits which will continue to hamper the individual throughout life. For present purposes all motor training may be di- vided into four general groups. These are (1) Play — including all the free activities of all ages of youth. (2) Industrial training, including all teaching of occu- pations that are practised by adults or have been prac- tised by them in the past. (3) Manual training, in- cluding all formal systems of hand training such as the Sloyd. (4) Gymnastics, all definite body-train- 128 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION ing, calesthenic exercises, gymnasium and apparatus work of all kinds, and the various systems of physical culture. Play. — Play is related to all practical activities of the race, and on the mental side, it is the raw material of which all purposive activity is made. In play the child repeats, stage by stage, the activities of the race. Play is the most natural attitude of the child at all times, for in it he is racial; he plays without effort, and with enthusiasm and pleasure, because he is car- ried along by the powerful impulses of the race, which live again in him, and control him. Considered thus, it must be seen that play is the fundamental form of motor training and exercise suitable for the child at all ages, and must be made the basis of all the rest. It is the best because it is the most natural, the most general, and the most autonomous. In play the re- quirements of nature are so clear and unmistakable that the child may be left in great measure to educate himself. Play must be regarded as the greatest of all edu- cational forces, the foundation of education. For without the interests which play creates the child could not be educated in a true sense at all. The methods of training the child are more clearly pointed out to the educator in play than in any other way. The best guide as to what shall be played at any age, if the social environment be normal, is the natural interest of the child himself. Play interests indicate the ripen- ing of functions which need exercise. Play may be directed by stimulating in the child those forms of PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 129 expression that have developed in the best social en- vironments and among the most normal children, but play must not be artificially prescribed to the child. A few of the many play motives which are most directly connected with the education of the child in school can be used to illustrate the proper attitude of the teacher and parent toward the play life of the child, and to indicate to what extent and how the play interest may be directed and utilised. No form of motor activity is more nearly univer- sal than dancing, nor more deeply affected by phyletic motives. In the dance can be expressed, in the form of movement, every important act, sentiment, and event of man's life. The dance goes back to the time when play, art, and work were not sepa- rated from one another. It is one of the best expres- sions of the pure play impulse of the child, and of his motor needs, and it constitutes the most liberal and best form of motor education. Our modern ball- room dances are of the least value of any, and are least rich in cultural elements, both for the body and the mind. The dance needs to be rescued from its pres- ent degenerate form, and be so enriched that we may use in many ways the motives which it arouses and expresses. Not only is there possibility in dancing for an almost ideal bodily training, for strength, co-ordina- tion, and endurance, but it is also one of the best edu- cators of the will and the higher sentiments. Another old and deep motive is conflict. It is this instinct that inspires a great many of the motor activi- ties of the child, as well as all such sports as wrestling, i 3 o GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION fighting, boxing, and hunting. This strong primitive impulse is a power that must be directed and made to assist in the child's education. All the movements, in- terests, and mental states that it arouses can be brought to bear upon the specialised activities of games and occupations, in such a way as to add zest and enthusi- asm. Another racial interest, less active and less general, but a powerful stimulant to the most varied activities, is the interest in dolls. Doll play is not merely an expression of the mother instinct of the girl, as is sometimes supposed, but of the social impulse as well, and is therefore native in both boy and girl. The doll is not so much offspring as companion and associate, with whom nearly all the interests and activities of daily life are reproduced and recast. In his doll play the child not only exercises both fundamental and ac- cessory movements, but he practises a remarkable va- riety of generic activities which underlie later occupa- tion. With a doll the child expresses and practises almost everything he knows or can do. Therefore the school should, on the principle of economy, use this plastic energy which is already active and does not need to be created nor aroused. In fact, the doll play of the child can be used to teach almost anything the school needs to impart in the earlier years, and in such a way as to utilise the momentum of a plastic phyletic interest. Almost the same words may be used in explaining the nature and function of the collecting impulse, which is related to the deep property instincts of the race, PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 131 and is an universal and profound motive in the child, which may be used in many ways. By arousing an interest in collecting, almost every intellectual task of the child may be enlivened, and even the most purely cultural subjects may be made to assume some of the qualities of active, motor interests. Another example of the manner in which an instinct may be made to do work in educating and co-ordinating the mind may be seen in the child's native interest in playing in the earth or sand. Children left to them- selves, or wisely directed, tend in such plays to socialise their activities, and to express almost every aspect of their environment that strongly appeals to them. In such an activity the child's interest becomes construc- tive and imaginative, and he learns quite spontaneously many lessons of social life and industry. Indeed such play possesses, as an educative factor, one conspicuous advantage over the school, in that all that is learned is expressed, and the learning grows out of an active interest. Everything comes naturally from the step before it, and so all is co-ordinated. It is all brought to a focus, a unity is made out of widely diverse facts and actions, and knowledge is brought to bear precisely upon the point where the child's interest is centred, as he co-operates with the interest of another in free, natural play. This is an ideal expression of a motor education which is also mental, and a mental training which, as all mental training should, expresses itself in movement. What is true of one phyletic impulse in the child is true, in a sense, of all. The child passes through 132 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION nascent stages of impulse when he is ready for any learning that may be attached in a natural manner to these interests. The order, form, and general char- acter of these interests are determined by nature. The materials which the child shall use, and the manner in which the interests shall be turned to account rest, in part at least, with the parent and teacher. So great and far-reaching is the play spirit of the child that many now think a well-rounded liberal education could be given by means of plays and games alone, believing there is no profit where there is no pleasure in the task. Hence we now find play-grounds, publicly directed play-institutions of one kind and another, play-schools, and play-teachers — and all this one of the great fac- tors in a movement toward a better co-ordinating of the motor and mental interests of the child, and a better physical education. Play is one of the magic words in the new education. The problems of play are now open all along the line in education, and one of the greatest of all practical questions is how to make the most of play in teaching the child ; not only in the kin- dergarten, but on upward in every grade of the school system. The problem of the city is how to utilise every inch of possible space to give the child's play life room to expand. Roof-gardens, playgrounds, recreation piers, schoolyards and school buildings must be util- ised. There must be plenty of excursions to freer and more open spaces, and outings of all kinds that seem to favour growth. Juvenile theatricals, boys' clubs, nature study, industrial plays, curricula of plays and games, sand-piles, apparatus, parks, animals, must all PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 133 be treated as educational agencies, and their value and proper application to all ages and conditions of child- hood must be precisely worked out. At the age of adolescence the play problem comes to the front in a new way. Now ensues, in many re- spects, a second infancy, and the play of many new functions begins. At this time the play spirit must be utilised to save the youth from many ills of both body and mind, and to carry on his enthusiasms and growth to the highest possible plane. There should be both public provision for the recreational life, and the school and home must recognise the fundamental na- ture and power of play. Among many recreational measures best suited for this age, swimming may be mentioned as excellent both in mental and physical effects. There should be in every city abundant facili- ties for this most healthful of exercises, for it has unique powers over the emotional life. Rhythmic games, and games involving passive movements, are efficacious. There should be plenty of skating, tennis, golf, cricket, fives, croquet, bowling, quoits, curling, all of which have power to control the emotions, which are in great need of training in all this transitional period. Walking, running, dancing, coasting, and per- haps most of all hill-climbing are of value in helping to control the sexual passions, which at this time are so liable to over-excitement or perversion. Industrial Education. — The great need and the meaning of the industrial idea in education have al- ready been sufficiently emphasised. Most of the nat- ural activities of children consist in rehearsing the in- i 3 4 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION dustries of the race. Whenever we find strong inter- ests or impulses they will usually be discovered to be impelled by the revival, in the child, of practical inter- ests of the race. Modern life draws the child away from this free expression of the life of the race, by forcing him into a sedentary, learning life, even in the earliest school years. Education needs to be brought into closer touch with activities upon which adult prac- tical life depends. What is oral, and dramatic — the pictorial, the motor, the strong racial movements as expressed in industry, movements of lifting, digging, striking, throwing, running, need to be brought into the child's experience in a co-ordinated manner. All the multiform activities of the race must be represented in the child. The product, the thing to be made or done must be the end; and not merely the activity as exercise or motor expression. It has always been the product that has inspired the race, so it must be for the child. He must make those things which he himself needs in his business of play and self-expres- sion, and his doing and making must be co-ordinated in every way with his learning. He must pass through the experiences of food-getting, fishing, hunting, do- mestication of animals, and agriculture. He must know something of the arts of preparing clothing; of the treatment of hides and furs ; of weaving blankets, and making covering for feet and head; of ornament and decoration ; of the making of utensils, weapons, idols, and pottery. He must feel in his own life the struggles of the race in providing shelter for the young — how they progressed from caves, tents, and huts to PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 135 their present forms of dwellings. He must catch enough of the spirit of the primitive industries and arts to imbibe their educative values. Especially does education need to take the child back to the occupa- tions connected with the tilling of the soil. This is the great foundation of all the rest. Life is based upon it, and especially in our Aryan peoples has the agricultural idea played a great part in the education of body and mind. All this is still very inadequately represented in our schools. We have been so afraid of teaching the child trades that even the most general aspects of occupations have been neglected, though the interests of the child demand just such a culture. Two types of modern adult activity furnish excel- lent ideals for an education that shall be true to nature in the ways just demanded — the colonial ideal, and the ideal of the general farm. Many suggestions could be found in the country life of two generations ago for the industrial work of the school, especially in the earlier grades. For a certain stage of boy life it is the best environment ever realised in history. It combines physical training, industrial training, and technical elements in good proportions with the civic and religious. Children take the deepest interest in the activities of country life, and the multitudinous and diversified industries of the old-time farmer are unexcelled for stimulating the child's mind, and for the production of sound health. The reproduction, in the modern school system, so far as possible, of the elements of this stage of industry would be the ideal industrial education, far better than anything that has 136 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION yet been produced. To the extent that the school must fail in this respect it falls upon parents to understand the great natural love of the child for country life, and to try to provide every possible opportunity for vacations and excursions into the country. A second ideal, the colonial, is peculiarly suited to youth in the early years of adolescence. It is the ideal of our forefathers in their first century in America. It is dominated by the spirit of self-reliance and prog- ress, a willingness and eagerness to push out into un- tried fields, and a sense of power and plasticity to meet all kinds of conditions. If the industrial train- ing of the child during his early years has been what it ought to be, this is the spirit in which he will arrive at the age of adolescence. This is especially the spirit which is most needed to carry on our great industries of to-day and the greater the abundance in which we can create it the more secure will we be as a nation in industrial competition. Something more than a training in skilled movements is necessary. It is the continual emotional and instinctive response to what is deep and fundamental in active, efficient, industrial life that is most needed, and which can be produced only by an industrial ideal grounded in the child's love of out-of-doors, and of productive activity carried on in the spirit of free play. We need the industrial ideal throughout the whole school system. The right in- dustrial training stimulates the instinctive powers of the child as nothing else does. But it is not only from the standpoint of the de- velopment of the child as an individual that we must PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 137 consider the problem of education for and by means of industry. The needs of society must also be taken into consideration. Our educational system has failed to make progress in step with the changes in industrial conditions outside it. In the industrial world new methods appear almost daily, and it is all rilled with the spirit of eagerness and push. It demands the best energies of most of our people, and sets conditions, to succeed under which, an ever more complete special- isation is required. Yet our school system continues to teach with special reference, not to the many who will be absorbed into this industrial system, but in the interests of the few who will go on to higher educa- tion. After the fifth or sixth grade our whole effort is to fit for clerical positions, rather than to provide for the needs of the great masses. The child's native interests in constructive activity are rather suppressed than developed. This is partly due to a needless horror we have had of utilitarian results in education, which has led us to give relatively too much attention to purely cultural values, even in the face of the fact that we know almost nothing of the effects of culture, nor how any general ability may be trained, nor whether the power acquired in studying one subject may be transferred to another. So the school has grown more and more away from life, and has become more in- active as life has become more active. Another cause of the lack of adjustment of the school to the conditions of real life is that we have believed there is but one best way of educating a child, and one body of culture materials upon which he may 138 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION be raised to intellectual maturity. It is precisely the opposite view which the industrial idea demands and teaches. It is certain that there are many ways of educating a child, and many different bodies of culture material, all perhaps equally good, or each suited es- pecially to the needs of one class of mind or type of social order. The method of knowledge has no es- pecial claim to a supreme place. It was suited to an earlier and different stage of life than our own. In- dustrial schools have demonstrated completely that quite as high a grade of intellectual work is required in training for industry as for the professions, and they have helped to rescue us from the inconsistency of preaching the dignity of labour, and refusing at the same time to consider its elements worthy to be taught in our schools. The need of industrial training is no mere demand for the introduction of a topic into the curriculum, but it involves a reconstruction of the whole spirit of our educational system, from the bottom to the top. In fact, without a better industrial education, we cannot long hold our place as a nation. We have depended in the past upon our resources and abundant fertility, both in population and in products of the land, and upon our high protective tariff. We have been waste- ful of everything, and have failed all along the line to utilise any of the results of the sciences that might have been so helpful in the world of business and in- dustry, and which we must now use. To meet this need we must first have a differentiation of schools. Various schools might be organised in PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 139 such a way that each would lead toward some one group of industries. We must provide all opportunity for selective interests, for giving scope to special abil- ity and inclination, keeping youth in touch with real life, and at the same time making training truly cul- tural. There must be many kinds of courses and schools, technical and every other kind of industrial institute, open day and evening. We greatly need, too, vocational experts who, by studying the capacities of individuals, will help to eliminate the waste in human energy now so prevalent, and to bring the young more successfully to the stage of citizenship and self-respect which comes only through self-support. A great many difficulties and problems are involved, in the ever-earlier vocational efficiency and choice of occu- pation that is demanded. We must learn how to ac- complish this without conflicting with our American ideals of culture ; we must discover how to bring early to the child the very latest results in the many fields of industry, without, in so doing, violating the steps of development. We must learn how to give the best of the new while retaining the best of the old. We must plan how we may prevent from lapsing to un- skilled labour the half -educated boys who leave school at about fourteen, many with vocational tendencies but without sufficient intellectual interests to carry them on further than the point at which the school has left them. Another problem is presented because modern specialisation and utilitarianism have removed from the life of industry so many of its humanistic and i 4 o GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION cultural features. In the old days of the guilds every man was an artist, and his work, possessing more con- tacts with life, requiring more varied activity and knowledge, was a true education. It is these elements that our education for industry must provide, at the same time leading the child to a higher degree of special efficiency. There is no need, however, of failing to find cul- tural materials enough in teaching industries. For, given a strong vocational interest, a great wealth of knowledge can be vitalised by it. It is surprising, in- deed, to see how wide a range of facts, laws, and prin- ciples, useful in learning a trade, are also of genuine humanistic value and interest, and at the same time fundamental for scientific knowledge — how intellec- tual, in a word, a thoroughly trained artisan must be, and how ideal an educational situation it is when such a trained man is brought into close contact with eager youth. There is great need still, in all these industrial fields, of the right literature for the young. All of the trades are rich in cultural value and human interests, and need only the right presentation to be stimulating to the mind. We need books on each of the leading trades. Such books should give an intelligent view of the whole industry in all its relations, in such a way as to be intellectually helpful. Once gathered such literature might be used in all industrial schools where the trades in question are taught. It would help to arouse something of the old guild spirit, and to make the labourer more loyal to his task. PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 141 Room must be made, too, in our educational system, in a much larger way than at present is done, for the teaching of business. Business, in one way or an- other, now occupies most of all adult thought and activity, yet there is no adequate preparation for it, nor introduction to it, in our school plan, and particu- larly its charms and mysteries are entirely passed over at those times when the youth is most susceptible to such influences, and is willing to learn from books. Indeed, the school seems rather to shelter the child from contact with the busy world than to give him an in- sight into it. The school, however, need not be blamed entirely for this lack of contact. Business has neglected its opportunities to interest children. It should recognise its own cultural and humanistic val- ues, for every business has them, or it could not have survived, and have held the life-long service of its workers. Corporations must study the human life which they handle and know it as well as they do the other materials with which they work. They must be educational institutions. In many kinds of busi- ness there are problems as educative as anything we teach in the schools — advertising, buying and selling, and many other great activities of trade demand a high degree of intellectual capacity. Commerce and trade perhaps require the most gen- eral of all educational preparation, both theoretical and practical. The student of business must not only learn from books, but he must be kept in contact with actual life at every stage of his progress. The de- partments of business in school and college must catch 142 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION the spirit of the world outside and be receptive to every new idea and method, constantly expanding to re- ceive everything valuable. The business course, above everything else, must never remain fixed and station- ary. Education for the farm is another broad and im- portant field of the new education. It must have at its base a love of nature and of the country, and a just valuation of city life. A step in cultivating the right spirit is the school garden, which is physically, morally, and mentally beneficial to children. But the spirit and enthusiasm, so aroused, must not be al- lowed to die out, in the secondary school, as is now the case. We need to keep it alive and build upon it an interest in the problems of practical biology, which play so great a part in life. All education for agricultural life has the advantage that it goes back to old phyletic roots. We must make the most possi- ble of these native forces. The modern courses in the agricultural college are likely to weaken the funda- mental instincts which draw youth to the country, and even to alienate them permanently from it. The problem of teaching trades to women is an- other of the great and difficult questions of the day. Teaching trade and teaching domesticity are diametri- cally opposed to one another, demanding opposing ideals and methods. The latter is general, all-sided, and evokes the whole personality; the former is spe- cial, demanding usually one or a small group of abili- ties. The fundamental industry of woman must be domestic life, and we must raise the dignity of this PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 143 and make it central to everything. We must teach the dignity and values of the art of cooking, its re- lations to science, its recapitulatory phases. We must create such a new ideal of domestic life that the girl who arrives at the middle teens without a practical knowledge of cooking, sewing, laundering, and the care of children will be regarded as unprepared for life. Manual Training. — Manual training cannot be marked off definitely from industrial training, and in an ideal system of industrial education, it would be absorbed. We can define manual training, as at pres- ent conducted, as motor education, without reference to specialised occupation. It aims to be generic, and to train hand and brain in a general way. So it is an important movement in education and is based upon sound principles. It teaches motor control, and it stimulates interest in many children, to whom the less active tasks of the school do not appeal. As com- pared with most of the work in the school, it has the advantage of being definite and objective. Instruction and criticism can be made precise, and the child can at once see his failures and limitations. There is nothing he can conceal, and it leads to an appreciation of good, honest work. Yet, considered from the genetic point of view, most of the present manual training seems narrow and inadequate. We must not think of it as a final stage, but as a beginning, the chief service of which, so far, has been to shatter our idol of purely intellectual edu- cation, and its corollary that nothing useful must be 144 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION taught in the school. At present, the manual training is not sufficiently liberal and humanistic, and it does not connect well with the later stages of school, nor with practical life — and it is likely to leave an im- pression that work is monotonous and pedantically ac- curate. All these errors and limitations result from failure to recognise sufficiently the genetic steps in the child's development, and the phyletic impulse behind all natural activity. The Sloyd work, for ex- ample, is centred too much upon accuracy, and em- phasises excessively the feature of training, and too little that of usefulness and interest from the child's point of view. Its teachers are too often formalists. They try to lead the child through a number of care- fully graded steps, and their systems are open to the same criticism that all logically arranged curricula are. They put too much stress upon method and formal dis- cipline, train too limited areas of the brain, and do not represent at all adequately the three hundred man- ual occupations of our present industrial life. They have not begun, as they ought, with the study of the great fundamental types of human activity. They have used too limited a range of materials, and because they have not gone back to beginnings they have failed to take advantage of natural interests, to stimulate the mind broadly, and to connect with other interests, especially with science, which is quite as closely re- lated to the constructive interests of the child, as to the practical life of the adult. In a word, further de- velopment must go on from the point at which present methods have most failed, and arouse the very deepest PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 145 instinctive interests, in order to make manual training not merely an education of the hand, but of the whole individuality of the child. It must be extended in two directions, toward a broader mental training, and to- ward practical issues in the industrial life. Whatever the work may be, these ends must be kept in view. In such work as basket-weaving, for example, we must make the manual work contribute to mental growth and appeal to deep instincts, just as it did in the savage, who has often woven into his work story and legend, symbolism of plant and animal life, and even his own history and inner life. Manual work must be directed not merely to producing mechanics nor to training men- tal faculties, such as observation; but it must connect with the most vital needs of technicians, business men, scholars, and professional men. So considered, it is full of promise. A manual course should begin with rough work, with at first much practice in measuring, and the mak- ing of measuring rods and other simple tools. In con- nection with this, some elementary mathematics could be introduced. Then might come work with the wooden square and compasses ; next such work as the mortising of cross sticks, as in the making of kites, and so on to finer and more skilful work. It should all connect with the native interests of the child, and be suited to his stage of motor development. The making of something the child wants should be the first principle. Therefore in the first years the con- struction of toys may well be the centre of all the work. Many materials should be used, and a great variety of 146 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION objects made. Much activity similar to that of primitive industries may be introduced, for much that was once done for practical use now appeals to the child as play. At the stage in which kites are dominant much can be made of this interest. Books on the subject should be read, and the child's mind filled with what- ever knowledge is relevant, such as the story of the conquest of the air, and many scientific principles. Tops may be made the subject of another stage or chapter in manual work. They appeal to practical in- terests, and also form a nucleus about which some of the most fundamental principles of physics can be grouped, leading to an understanding of vortexes, atoms, stellar systems, and the like. Another interest, strong in boys, is in fire-arms. The story of gun mak- ing, and the history of weapons generally, should go with this, for it is a deep interest in the boy. Another excellent field is the making of puppet theatres, for this connects with literary and historical interests in a nat- ural way. Magic is another good point of departure. There are also splendid resources in photography, and in the whole field of inventions, glass blowing, and plumbing, the last connecting well with problems of biology, physics, and chemistry. In the high school, or higher grades, the work of manual training should centre about the scientific work of the school — chemistry, physics, and biology. The important principle here involved is that scientific in- struments are more generic than machines of any kind, and the making of them requires more fundamental PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 147 principles. They deal with basic laws of motion, and not with special principles. Therefore they are suited admirably to the age of adolescence, in which the science and activities need most of all to be kept in the generic stage. The making of toys and kites, the study and practice of photography, and similar problems may still be an interest. The arts and crafts movement contains a principle that needs to be emphasised in planning the manual work at the time of adolescence. The purpose of this movement is the idealisation of the arts. It is this appeal to the aesthetic feelings which makes it of special importance at adolescence, for thus the industrial arts may be connected with the higher sentiments, and the motor interests may be carried on up through all the range of the feelings. This is the time when ideals of work and art sink deepest into the mind, when the youth is susceptible to the influence of all models, and capable of storing up impressions which can make their appearance in active form only later. At this time, therefore, the efferent side of training, the expression and production, should not be carried too far. There should not be precision and technique, so much as self-expression in those forms of activity which are most natural and easy. Thus ideals will become fixed, and broad lines of interest established. The first and guiding interest on the part of the educator must be then as always the needs and nature of the youth, and not the requirements of the art nor the perfection of the product — a point at which many of the advocates of art for youth 148 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION fail. Their interest is too strongly centred upon the ideals of the art, and too little upon the nature of the child. Gymnastics and Athletics. — Gymnastics and ath- letics represent the most conscious effort on the part of education to find a substitute under the abnormal conditions of city life for the old order of body-train- ing, which man had in a state of nature and more primitive social conditions. It is certain that neither the free life of the child out of school nor the or- dinary motor occupations of the school properly train the body, nor do they establish health such as must be acquired in youth if later life is to be normal, strong, and efficient. At some time in the future an industrial education such as has just been described may do this, but this is perhaps a far-away ideal ; in the meantime there is a serious problem in the motor life of the school child. There are now a great number of physical culture schemes and systems but all together are not adequate to cope with the bodily deterioration that has resulted from the changed industrial life. The need is for a revolution in all motor training of the young. We need a new philosophy of health, and a great leader of a national movement of physical education. Es- pecially to adolescence would such a reawakening of en- thusiasm for the motor life come as salvation. The ideal must not be merely athletic, a wide-spread interest in games and sports for their own sakes, which is a danger of our present interests, nor in the development of champions and experts, but what is wanted is a PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 149 general popular interest in body culture, and a means of effectively raising the standards of the motor life of the whole community and nation, and so well that the benefits will be passed on to future generations. A system of health culture which can do this must be fundamental, and must appeal to deep motives, far more profound than our interests in our national games, and the athletic ideals of college and athletic club. Ethical and intellectual motives must be brought in, and the highest philanthropic and parental instincts aroused. Physical culture must become a university and college study, on equal footing with all others, and only thus will the proper influence begin to come from above downward to direct the whole movement. There must be specially trained teachers for all the grades and degrees of the science of physical development. There are in the field at least four partial and some- what distinct ideas or ideals of physical culture, each strongly represented by enthusiastic teachers, but no one alone, nor all together, nearly accomplish all that is needed. These are: (1) the perfection of the body as a mechanism; (2) complete volitional control of the body; (3) economic posture and movement; (4) symmetrical development. All these fail to give us basic principles. Whatever the principles of physical training may be in detail they must be essentially biological. Train- ing of the body must follow the general laws of mental and physical development of the child, and must be based upon them. The interest and the needs of the 150 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION growing child must be the guide, and the spirit of it all must be that of play. Play is both mental and physical activity, and it is just at this point, in the lack of mental incitement, that so many of our physical culture methods are unnatural. Play is the ideal type of physical activity for the young and in it may be found all methods. They must all be play-motived. Play is the inner force that takes up mere exercise into a larger whole and co-ordinates it with all other activi- ties of life. It alone provides fully for the higher moral and mental needs that must be met in an ideal physical culture system. It is from this standpoint of directed play activity that all the problems of exercise, both in the lower and the higher grades, must be considered. It is from this standpoint, too, that the athletics of the higher grade must be studied, as well as the school activities of children. Athletic work, thus conceived, is a regu- lator and trainer, not only of the muscles, but of all instincts and impulses, which, without such a train- ing, can never be normal, nor raised to the highest level/ Its possibilities and dangers are both great. At the best, athletics can train all the higher motives of conduct, and all religious and moral ideals. But im- properly conducted, athletics tend to help only the few who participate, and not all of these ; and elements of professionalism and low social ideals enter. The aim of all such work in the college must never be lost from sight. Sport is not for its own sake, nor yet for the glory of the college ; it is a practical means of bringing youth to complete manhood. All students PHYSICAL AND INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 151 must be reached. Physical ideals must be made to effect a harmony of body and mind, extending even to minor manners and deportment. The culture his- tory of athletics needs to be worked over, and utilised in teaching. Colleges should offer courses in a very broad field of hygienic studies, in which physical train- ing is the centre. More must be made of all interests, such as the military, which contain possibilities of health culture and morality. In this way the intel- lectual and the athletic interests would be combined in a natural manner. Properly directed, the desire on the part of the young to be healthy, strong, and beau- tiful is the greatest of all incentives to all kinds of strenuous effort, both mental and physical. . References. — 22, 44, 51, 73, 112, 113, 170, 176, 180, 206, 218, 269, 278, Educational Problems. CHAPTER X EDUCATION OF THE EMOTIONS It may be said without exaggeration that the feel- ings make up nine-tenths of life. Everywhere, where there is interest or motive, desire, enthusiasm, or habit, there is a problem of the education of the emo- tions. It arises in every school subject, in every de- partment, from the lowest to the highest, and is so universal and omnipresent that we are in danger of ignoring and forgetting that the deeper things in life that condition everything else, and upon which all else rests, must be the first objects of our thought and de- mand our most serious efforts. We may state gen- eral principles, yet all such rules must be inadequate to express that which is almost equivalent to education itself. Feeling is everywhere the great force that drives life. To direct it aright is, in a large sense, what we mean by education. In the problem of the education of the feelings it is the great principle of recapitulation which, as in other departments, points the way. The child passes through racial stages, and he must be educated at each step with reference to the stage in which he then is, and not according to the ultimate goal to be reached. Emotional traits that appear undesirable from the adult's point of view, when considered from that of 152 EDUCATION OF THE EMOTIONS 153 genetic psychology, are seen to be normal and neces- sary. We may, in one way, approach the problem of training of the emotional life by following out this view in its application to the education of the primary feelings, such as pleasure, pain, anger, fear and the like. Yet what this gains in definiteness is more than lost again, if one should be content with any such prin- ciples as an adequate pedagogy of the feelings. It is rather in those higher states of feeling and thought that make up our moral, our religious, and our aesthetic experiences that we discover the full significance of the feelings, and the challenge they offer to all our resources of intelligence and pedagogical power to cope with them. What follows is the application of the recapitulatory principle to a few of the more concrete and definite aspects of an educational problem which, as a whole, must, from its very nature, be the most varied, subtle, and universal of all, involved in every- thing we do for the child, at many points baffling, and demanding far greater knowledge upon the most common themes of psychology than we yet possess. Pleasure and pain have been the great educators in the world — a truth which in the present artificial con- ditions of life we are likely to forget. We minimise pleasure and regard pain as wholly evil and to be eliminated, thus violating nature. Children must not be too much protected from pain and hardship. With- out painful effort the mind and body degenerate. There may be too much protection against cold, and even hunger, for all the feelings must be strongly 154 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION stimulated, if all possible values of racial experience are to be preserved. Fear. — We have seen that, though fear has been necessary to the race, it is now, in the present condi- tions of civilised life, often out of relation to real dangers. The conclusion might easily be reached that it no longer serves a useful purpose, and that we should try in every way to overcome it. This is not true, for fear still performs an important function in life. The problem is not how to eliminate fear altogether, but to learn how to utilise it as an educative force. Chil- dren must be taught to fear rightly as well as think correctly, and the former is no less important than the latter. A wise training in fears would by no means protect the child against all the cruder and more drastic fears, for fear serves a much wider purpose than to protect us from danger. Fear, as the child passes through its stages, in a normal way, leaves be- hind it a foundation upon which higher sentiments are built; and especially the moral and the religious life would be poorer but for the emotion of fear, even the crudest and most animal-like forms of it. For out of the fear grow such sentiments as reverence, the worship of the sublime, and of the awe-inspiring. The child fears God better because he has deeply feared thunder, and because his mind has been sensitised by rude contacts with all of nature's threats. And were all fear wanting, a great number of intellectual mo- tives would be lost. One of the best tests of soundness of heredity is the ability of the individual to pass through the stages EDUCATION OF THE EMOTIONS 155 of fear safely, and to utilise the lower in stimulating higher sentiments and intellectual interests. Capacity for fear differs greatly among individuals, and some require far more of such stimulus to arouse their ac- tivities. A too care-free and protected childhood, however, is in every case a calamity, and it stands in the way of complete maturity. Fear has been one of the chief spurs to all scientific enquiry, and it is this issue of the cruder fears into attitudes of respect and understanding that is wanted in the training of the child. This is, too, the normal basis of attention and concentration. Anger. — The history of anger in the race, and of its growth in the individual, indicates that it must also be counted among the great educative forces in the life of the child, and that it must not be regarded as merely a fault or defect in human nature. It still has its uses, and it can safely be asserted that at least nor- mal, healthy, male manhood will never be entirely peaceable. The complete suppression of warfare and anger, and the substitution of universal peace and brotherly love would indicate an end of progress in the race, and a beginning of degeneration. We need strife and its motive force anger, in some degree and form. The possession of strong passions, well under control, is the secret of the power of character, and a necessary condition for the highest mental tension which must always be the state in which the best work of the world will be done. The problem of training anger is how to make it a power, and not a waste of physical, mental, and moral energy. The child must be trained 156 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION especially against forming habits of temper, the quick and wasteful and ineffective response to stimuli, which is the opposite of the creative tension of properly con- trolled anger. For all boy life anger, strongly expressed, is natural and normal. Many situations must be met with anger, that cannot be coped with in any other way. The con- flicts of boys are normal, and periods of combativeness are necessary steps toward a properly balanced social life. Combat and anger teach wholesome lessons of self-reliance, and they stimulate a valuable kind of courage. To try to eliminate this natural anger from the child is wrong and comes from an erroneous idea of morality. To destroy anger in the child, and to produce cowardice, would be no gain, either morally or physically. The child must arrive at maturity with a wholesome power of indignation which he may ex- press forcibly when the occasion calls for it. Anger has its place, too, in the adult's attitude toward the faults of the child. Oftentimes punishment, in right- eous wrath, is the only effective check for faults. Its power must not be lost in a fatuous ideal of self-con- trol and poise. The world has still a need of anger in many of its tasks. Social Emotions. — Social emotions can develop normally only under one condition, free complex social relations, in which the child has many associates, and co-ordinates with a wide range of individualities. It is wrong to limit the companionship of the child too much to one or a few types of children, in the fear that he will learn evil. It is in the give and take of EDUCATION OF THE EMOTIONS 157 an active social life that the child educates himself as he can in no other way. He should have both good and bad companions. The bad help to teach him con- trasts between good and evil, and to set standards for his own conduct. A certain degree of exposure to evil is necessary for moral welfare. Of course the vicious companion must be avoided, especially during the formative years of early adolescence. Boys need some companionship with older boys, and this was one of the great advantages of the country school. In the years of adolescence, the companions of the boy are all-important factors in shaping his life. They help to set his fashions, and to fix his standards of conduct. Societies and gangs, each at its own proper period, are great forces in the life of the child, and it is quite as important to guide such social life correctly as to feed the mind with facts. In the college years, too, the life outside the classroom is far more important to the stu- dent, oftentimes, than the subjects he studies with professors. A companion admired for athletic prow- ess, or for other reasons, may be more influential in shaping all ideals of a youth than any other force, and the power of a single leader among young men may extend very far. The strongest of all social motives in man is to win the good will of his fellows, and it is one of the chief problems of a pedagogy of the social feelings to under- stand how to train and utilise this motive to the best advantage. The effort must be to keep a proper bal- ance, in the development of self-consciousness, between excess of boldness and too much shyness or reticence. 158 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION Vanity, egotism, and self-assertiveness are very readily produced in some temperaments, and in others there is a tendency toward shyness, distrust, and shrinking from all unsympathetic contact. Particularly in girls, and especially in regard to consciousness of clothes, the way to abnormal self-consciousness is easy. A little lack of naturalness here, or the effect of slight sugges- tions from others, will produce in the child a train of consequences leading to affectation and deceit. Simi- lar impulses in the male, more likely to centre about showing off or bravery, often lead to perverted ideals of courage and honour, and even to criminality. Ig- norance and injudicious treatment of the child on the part of parent or teacher are more likely to be at the bottom of such abnormalities, both in girls and in boys, than are the inherent tendencies of the child. On the other hand, the excessive shyness of the child that leads to the fear of all strangers is a serious prob- lem. Any fear in excess greatly limits life, and social fears may stunt growth in many directions. Excessive fear in this direction exerts a harmful influence upon all motor expression, and brings out abnormal habits and automatisms. Disapproval and lack of under- standing and sympathy on the part of elders will greatly exaggerate the trouble, and make havoc in the emotional life. The personality is prevented, by re- pression, from developing normally. All these prob- lems of the social life are to a great extent individual. It is the problem of the proper development of individ- uality, the correct balance between the impulses of so- cial aggressiveness, and of reserve, respect, and sub- EDUCATION OF THE EMOTIONS 159 mission. Only an intimate knowledge of individual children can cope with it. Less definite still must be at present the pedagogical conclusions about such emotions as humour — about the place of wit and laughter, ridicule, and the habits of teasing, and the practical joke. All these being expressions of fundamental instincts of the child, they must have practical bearings upon his education, and possibly far more than we as yet know are controllable. That ridicule and sarcasm, rightly directed, have a value and great pedagogic effect upon some types of temperament seems certain. Laughter has arisen in part in connection with the joy of conquest of enemies and the destruction of prey, and from this it has been taken up into the expressions of the more indirect modes of disposing of opponents, and the elimination of the undesirable. Excessive egoism is thus kept within bounds. Ridicule implies a sense of superiority and it is a powerful weapon in educating the social consciousness. The victim is abased, and must re- adjust his self-knowledge and self-valuation. Thus so- ciety resists the invasion of undesirable variations. Much can be said, too, in favour of the practical joke, both as a quickener of dull minds, and as a salutary influence upon those having a premature self-impor- tance or too great conceit. The practical joke is war, cruelty, torture, reduced to the proportions of play. Pity. — The same arguments may be applied to the emotion of pity, as to anger and fear. The sentiment of pity is often so overdrawn in those who are very sensitive to it, it so often spends itself in mere feeling, i6o GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION so readily becomes weak, morbid, and effeminate — and in general shows so plainly that it is an emotion out of harmony with the real needs of life, and with the best means of assisting those who most need help that it is quite natural that it has often been looked upon, as anger and fear have been, as a defect of human nature, as a hindrance rather than an incitement tb effective action. Yet this is not an adequate account of the function of pity. Perhaps the best of all methods of rightly exercising this sentiment in education is in the training of those sentiments directly connected with parenthood. The right attitude toward the infant and growing child is the best altruism, and education should include the conscious effort to bring out these parental instincts, and to train them in definite forms of helpful- ness. Without a wholesome sensitiveness to the emo- tion of pity, it is impossible for the religious life to be brought to complete fulfilment. Christianity is based in part upon this sentiment, and the very centre of the New Testament lesson is one of pity. In fact the clos- ing scene of the life of Jesus is the masterpiece of pathos of all history. Right direction of altruism, therefore, is a deep and important problem of education. The legitimate expression of pity is in some act leading toward the relief of suffering. To learn to pity thus actively, where moral insight shows duty, is the task to be ac- complished. The defect in the sentiment of pity in its social aspects, and in its development in the life of the individual, is that it goes out relatively too much to that which cannot be remedied, and thus expends itself EDUCATION OF THE EMOTIONS 161 without practical result. We need a change of ideals in this regard. The function of pity is not so much to cast painful glances back upon the past, as to make smooth the future. The things most worthy of pity are the hardships of youths which stand in the way of their arriving at the highest maturity, and fitting them- selves to increase the hereditary values in the world. Sexual Emotions. — It would be impossible to over- estimate the importance of the pedagogy of the sexual function and its emotions. The sexual life is con- nected in the most intimate way with every other part of life, and no theory of education can be well- grounded that does not recognise its central place. There is much more sex preceding puberty than we have been accustomed to think. Only a part of the original sexual factors are organised to conserve the function of procreation. The rest make up the greater part of human interests and effort. Important at all times, it becomes of the first consideration at the time of puberty when the proper education and control of this part of the emotional life is absolutely necessary for the sake of the higher functions dependent upon it. It is safe to say that most that is best in life after puberty is secondary sexual in its origin ; that is, is an outgrowth of the sexual life of the race, and that the best development depends completely upon the nor- mality of the primary function of sex. Man has civilised himself largely by a conflict with his sexual nature, and considered from this point of view, sex has been of the highest importance for national growth and prosperity, for morals and religion. When we 162 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION understand how deeply the sexual life is involved in everything valuable in life, how many and how serious are the disturbances to which it is subject, how insidi- ous the suggestions that assail it from many sources, it ought to be plain that no single remedy nor peda- gogical measure can be applied, but that the best of wisdom must constantly be brought to bear upon the problem. We do not yet fully understand the depth of the problem of sexual education. Sexual education must begin in infancy. All hy- gienic measures in regard to clothing, bathing, cor- rection of local disturbances, must be attended to scrupulously, and there must be constant watchfulness for wrong habits. In general, all excited states must be avoided, even in the nursery. There must not be excessive fondling, and especially stroking and patting that tend toward culminating sensations are to be avoided. All intense spasms of feeling are bad for the sexual life. When ability to understand the mean- ing of reproduction comes, the parent's duty is to see that the child's first knowledge is not obtained from evil companions, and that all the future thoughts of the child about the origin shall not thus be connected with shame, deceit, and vulgarity. The power of an idea in the life of a child is very great. It is un- mistakably the duty of the home to be the first in- structor in sex. The aim of instruction is to forestall evil, and not to cure it. As early as eight or ten there should be definite information about sexual matters, though of course information beyond the years should not be given. Right knowledge has the effect of keep- EDUCATION OF THE EMOTIONS 163 ing the stages of growth normal and of preventing mental injuries. For the girl, emphasis must be al- ways upon the function of child-bearing, so that later the thoughts of love shall never be separated from thoughts of motherhood. It is best that an introduc- tion be made through myths of the creative life at a very early age, later by observation of fertilisation in plant life. The teaching in regard to the maternal function should always come first. The study of lower forms of life is best. There will need to be much individual variation in the teaching of this diffi- cult subject; much will depend upon the temperament and surroundings of the child, both as to the manner and the time of teaching. In general, it seems best that such lessons be brief, and that much care be taken to select moments when the mind is favourably dis- posed, and the relations between teacher and child are sympathetic. All children, we can now claim, should have such instruction before they go to school. Nor- mal schools should prepare teachers to give this knowl- edge to pupils who need it, for if the teacher under- stand the nature of the dangers involved, she can do much to prevent moral contagion, which is all too common among school children, and to keep the social relations of the child wholesome and normal. Young children must by every means be led toward natural and wholesome inter-sexual relations. Association in play between the sexes is very important for both boy and girl, for the foundation of many interests and virtues can be laid in this way and in no other. If instruction in sex has been rightly imparted be- 164 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION fore puberty, sex knowledge will not burst upon the child at the moment when the new impulses are de- veloping, and the mind is peculiarly susceptible to harmful influences. As this period approaches, more indirect methods of controlling the sexual emotions must be relied upon ; for, at this time, when the senti- ments are budding and ideals are forming, any rude presentation of the fact of sex may do great harm, causing morbid phenomena, and even perversion of instincts. Now as the pubertal stress approaches, preparation must be made by stimulating and getting ready those interests, the effect of which is to control and transform the primary passions. Of all these means the ideals of physical perfection lead. All vigorous motor activity is a means of control. Every intellectual interest is also a sedative of sex. Music, indeed all art, and all industrial interests also perform the function of irradiating the sexual life and taking it up into higher enthusiasms and tensions. In a sense the whole problem of sexual education at this time of life is to raise the lower to the higher enthusiasm. Merely to control and check by will is often a waste- ful method, but to control by directing energy into new channels uses power to advantage. Often the value of training in the technique of an art, acquired before puberty, becomes apparent only after the onset of maturity, when the art becomes the vehicle of ex- pression of energies that would otherwise find vent in a low form. Therefore everything related to sex as secondary characteristic must be trained. Deport- ment, manners, dress, ornament, personal loyalty, EDUCATION OF THE EMOTIONS 165 friendships, the sentiment of honour, the nobler love, ideals of body keeping, love of rhythmical movement, religion — all these may be regarded as substitutes for the sexual instinct, and must be cultivated in the right way, as means of control of passions, and of bringing the youth over the trying period in which he is strug- gling to make his way toward the higher civilisation. Whatever, in any way, helps to keep the sexual func- tions normal, also aids in making good ideals and keep- ing interests strong and sound. But if the sexual life be perverted it is impossible for these irradiations to be strongly motived, and the individual will fall short of complete maturity at some point. As to direct teaching in regard to sex, the problem is much more difficult during adolescence than before. Yet all now admit that some such instruction is neces- sary. Girls need to be taught plainly the physiology and hygiene of the functions that are now being es- tablished, and there must be careful investigation of personal needs and habits. All lessons must be plain and sensible. Young people must be made to under- stand clearly that many coveted prizes depend much upon correct sexual habits. The teaching of morality, and especially religion, has now a day of opportunity. It is important to connect the sexual life with the re- ligious, and it can safely be said that religion serves now to save youth from sexual temptation, more than any other purpose. We are not yet equipped with adequate literature to meet the needs of sexual instruction. With this theme as a centre a vast amount of scientific knowl- i66 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION edge and general culture could be conveyed. There should be text-books graded to age, dealing with sex as it appears in botany, and in zoology. We need books on such subjects as the history of marriage, di- vorce, the relation between religion and sex, and many other related topics. Especially should we be pre- pared now to teach to all youth in high school and col- lege, the main principles of eugenics. This is able to elevate the sexual impulses, to give new interest in the higher altruism, which is the service of humanity, and to arouse enthusiasm for all the deeper problems of history and sociology. References. — 112, 128, 172, 192, 194, 196, 203, 254, 260, 271, 285, E. P. See also references at end of chapter on moral education. CHAPTER XI MORAL EDUCATION Moral education is the most vital and most difficult of all the problems of human culture. It is a prob- lem, not for educators alone to solve, but for the whole nation. In a sense all education is moral, for the end of all teaching is to complete the moral growth of the child, and to impart to him the moral ideals of the race. No knowledge is merely for its own sake, but all must in some way affect conduct. All conduct, too, is in some sense moral conduct. Moral education, therefore, cannot be compressed into a single formula, as though it were a training of some one emotion or habit. It must touch life at all points, recognising that its work is to train a great force, which, as enthusiasm, can be turned into many different channels. Every institution must take part in this effort. Besides the school, we need many other agencies. We need a reformed theatre. We need gymnasia, holding up high ideals of physical perfec- tion. Opportunity for an abundance of wholesome social life must be provided. The church must per- form a more active part in moral control, and become more practical. We need, indeed, a synthesis of all the agencies that make for moral welfare, knowing 167 168 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION that the problem is nothing less than that of conserv- ing the most precious of our resources — the moral enthusiasm of the young. Moral training must begin in early infancy. We must recognise the fact that physical hygiene is the basis of all later morality, and that the establishment of good habits of sleep, feeding, and the like is quite as much a part of moral education as anything that will follow. In many other ways the mother's early influence upon the child, her caresses, and the example of her emotions and temperament, contain possibili- ties both of good and evil for the child. She very early impresses strongly her type of behaviour upon the infant. Soon the question of obedience arises, and here another critical situation for all the child's future life appears. The child must be taught to make immedi- ate and unfailing response to the demands of the parent. Reasons must not be given, but the child must be made to feel that he must obey simply because the parent wills it. The parent must be the infallible moral law, and his word be inexorable. Usually before the school age the question of truthfulness will arise, and this may be regarded as typical of many problems of the moral life. Truth- telling is a complex virtue, and depends upon several different motives, some of which come late. We must understand that different kinds of lying have very different moral significance, and that lying differs in gravity at different stages of childhood. The most common and least reprehensible lie of the child is the MORAL EDUCATION 169 imaginative lie, the failure to tell the truth because the world of the senses and the world of the imagina- tion are not yet clearly differentiated from one another. In most children this spirit needs to be stimulated and encouraged, rather than repressed. It is the normal mode of expression of the feelings in the early years. Such romancing contains the healthy buds of art and literature, and constantly to repress it for the sake of accuracy is wrong. It is natural, too, for children to have more than one standard of truth, to maintain one code for friends and another for enemies. Loyalty to persons is a strong impulse, and it comes long before loyalty to truth as an abstract ideal. But there are other and less desirable motives of falsehood. There is the lie for self-protection, which must be eliminated, though the child must not be forced into a morbid confessional habit. Every child needs to have a domain of life all his own, sacred from intrusion. Too rude invasion of this, in order to make the child frank, will have the reverse effect, and will make him untruthful. The lie for personal gain, and from an excessive desire to excel or gain favour must be crushed out, for later this impulse to play a part, and to assume a place for which nature has not in- tended the child, may become the source of the gravest peril to the moral life. The school in some respects encourages untruthfulness of these undesirable kinds, and with the beginning of school life new motives for lying arise. An unnatural habitat is established for the mind, The school demands standards not suited 170 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION to the child. It fosters undue fear of authority, which is a direct road to deception, and so oppressive may this authority become that the teacher is regarded as legitimate prey for deceit. There are many means, direct and indirect, of estab- lishing normal truthfulness. Training in observation and exact report may be mentioned. Whatever, too, gives the child a definite conception of a task, and teaches him to face it squarely — such as work in manual training — favours honesty. A school con- tent that is rich and satisfying to the mind helps, for then the child is not tempted to eke out his experience in unwholesome ways. Later the best safeguard will be the stimulation of a passionate love of knowledge. At all times both parent and teacher must set an ex- ample of truthfulness by keeping every promise and threat, and by avoiding every suspicion of duplicity, deceit and casuistry. Similar thoughts may be applied to other impulses, instincts, and emotions. We must not guard the child too closely from a knowledge of evil, and from bad companions. All kinds are needed to give breadth of moral experience, and to allow the child to form standards of good and evil. We must not seek after perfection, which is not only impossible, but undesira- ble as well. Most adult standards of virtue for chil- dren are unnatural and violate genetic principles. They tend to repress good qualities. Much of child- hood's fault is merely animal propensity, which does not in the least tend toward immorality if the environ- ment be normal. The child through his own inner MORAL EDUCATION 171 forces will transform such faults into virtues. He must be allowed to live out a natural life, and a too early appeal to conscience is a mistake. We must not continually preach morality. It is a mistake to as- sume that the child has a mysterious inner sense or conscience that tells him unerringly what is right and what is wrong. The moral life is no such simple unit as this would imply. It grows in spots, as it were. The individual is very complex, and his conduct is the result of many strands of impulse and instinct acting together, not always in harmony. He tends to pass through stages of moral development, in which the later and higher sentiments, and all the abstract vir- tues, are dependent upon the proper functioning of the lower instincts and habits. The methods of keeping the growth normal through these pre-moral stages must be many and broad. All the natural impulses and interests of the child must be directed and given moral impetus. There must be talks upon such homely topics as fair play, teasing, dress, anger, chums, honour in class, white lies, affec- tation, cleanliness, order, honour, taste, self-respect, treatment of animals, choice of reading, vacation pur- suits. This is practical conscience building. If all these and other such practical affairs of the child are not regulated, higher moral habits will not be estab- lished. Teaching of morals must be broad, inductive, and to a certain extent experimental — and always in- dividual. In the special teaching of morality use must be made of much of the ethnic literature. The moral stories 172 GENETIC PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION of the Bible come first, or perhaps preceded by stories from the more primitive ethical systems. Use can be made of the lives of the Saints, classic and Hindu mythology, German tales, and stories from history and biography. Another resource is the learning of max- ims and short moral classics, which may be made one of the most direct means of teaching morals. The moral force of pictures must not be overlooked. Whenever we can substitute a picture for an abstract truth, we are doing a work of economy. The good picture always touches some moral point, and presents an important aspect of life. Every moral sentiment that has typical expression in action lends itself to this mode of inculcation. Underlying all the teaching of morality, early and late, there must be evidence of a belief in a power that makes for righteousness and hates unrighteousness, and that in the end will punish the wrongdoer,