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Methods of Teaching 
 
 
 
 DEVELOPED FROM A FUNCTIONAL 
 STANDPOINT 
 
 BY 
 
 W. W. CHARTERS 
 
 ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF THEORY OF TEACHING IN 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI 
 
 CHICAGO 
 BOW, PETERSON & COMPANY 
 

 
 Copyright, 1909 
 
 BY 
 
 W. W. CHAETEES 
 
 24 8.7 4 2 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The point of view from which the problems of teaching 
 are discussed in this text is a functional one. It presup- 
 poses that all subject-matter has been created and pre- 
 served by the race to satisfy needs and solve problems, 
 and that in the schools such parts of this subject-matter 
 as satisfy the most fundamental needs are taught to 
 pupils. But this is not done in indiscriminate order. 
 Rather, in the main, any unit of subject-matter is best 
 presented when the need for whose satisfaction it is pre- 
 served is potentially or actually present in the experi- 
 ence of the pupils. In accordance with this view the in- 
 trinsic function and the structure of units of subject-mat- 
 ter become of prime importance, involving a phase of 
 methods of teaching to which relatively little attention has 
 been paid in pedagogical literature. To complete a prac- 
 tical description of this conception as applied to teaching- 
 it has been found necessary to discuss the methods of 
 arousing the appropriate needs and the conditions under 
 which they are found present, and to investigate the 
 methods pursued by experience both in satisfying these 
 needs, to the aid of which subject-matter is invoked, and 
 in securing the maximum degree of such satisfaction. 
 
 It is to be hoped that the point of view here developed 
 will not be confused with the problem of school discipline 
 concerning the authority of the teacher. In answer to the 
 
 3 
 
4 PEEFACE. 
 
 question, Are pupils expected to study subject-matter if 
 they do not feel the need for it? only an affirmative an- 
 swer can be given, and such answer should be given em- 
 phatically. The points to be remembered are these : 
 Authority is the buttress of the school ; but other motives 
 than that of mere obedience to authority may and should 
 be used. When other motives fail recourse should be had 
 to obedience, to the study of subject-matter merely be- 
 cause it is prescribed by the school authorities. 
 
 For the philosophical standpoint utilized and applied I 
 am indebted to my instructors in the University of Chicago 
 and particularly to Professor John Dewey, and for the psy- 
 chological analogies which have steadied and illuminated 
 the application of this standpoint I am under obligation 
 to Professor J. K. Angell. For assistance, through crit- 
 icism and suggestion, acknowledgment is made to Dr. J. 
 H. Coursault of the University of Missouri, to Dr. I. E. 
 Miller of the Milwaukee State Normal School, to Dr. G. M. 
 Whipple of Cornell University, to Dr. A. W. Vining of 
 Brandon College, to Mr. E. K. Eow of Chicago, and to 
 my wife. For assistance in developing the standpoint 
 and for forbearance while this was under way I am deeply 
 grateful to my former colleagues in the Winona, Minne- 
 sota, State Normal School. For suggestions from sources 
 too numerous to acknowledge individually I am indebted 
 to writers upon educational problems. 
 
 w. w. c. 
 
 University of Missouri, June, 1909. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTEE I. Standpoint of the Text 9 
 
 Sec. 1. Characteristics of the aim of education. 
 
 2. Distinctions in the treatment of aim. 
 
 3. Methodological statement of aim. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. Subject-matter 21 
 
 See. 1. Value of subject-matter. 
 
 2. Subject-matter as ways of acting. 
 
 3. Origin of subject-matter. 
 
 4. Subject-matter as re-organization. 
 
 5. Function of subject-matter. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. Distinctions in the Meanings 
 
 of Function 34 
 
 Sec. 1. Introduction. 
 
 2. Intrinsic and indirect functions. 
 
 3. Function for the author, teacher and pupil. 
 
 4. Subject-matter as end and as instrument. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. The Intrinsic Function of Sub- 
 ject-matter 49 
 
 See. 1. The race and subject-matter. 
 
 2. The language group. 
 
 3. History. 
 
 4. Geography. 
 
 CHAPTEE V. The Structure of Subject- 
 matter 64 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. Illustrations of Function and 
 Structure 74 
 
 5 
 
6 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER VII. The Teaching of Subject-mat- 
 ter 89 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. Motives 100 
 
 Sec. 1. The psychology of motive. 
 
 2. Interest. 
 
 3. Needs. 
 
 4. Problems. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. Motive Applied to Education.. 116 
 
 Sec. 1. Active and Potential Motives. 
 
 2. Subject-matter of immediate interest. 
 
 3. Subject-matter as mediately interesting. 
 
 CHAPTER X. Illustrations of the Securing 
 of Motives 127 
 
 Sec. 1. The language group. 
 
 2. Arithmetic. 
 
 3. History. 
 
 4. Magazine advertisements. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. Review of Past Experience. . . . 145 
 Sec. 1. Eeview for motive. 
 
 2. Eeview as an aid in solution. 
 
 3. Eeview for functional connection. 
 
 4. Eeview of the previous lesson. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. Control of Values 153 
 
 Sec. 1. Psychology of control. 
 2. Applications to teaching. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. Forms of Instruction 170 
 
 See. 1. "Telling." 
 2. Developing. 
 
CONTENTS 7 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. Methods of Development 179 
 
 Sec. 1. The field of induction and deduction. 
 
 2. The inductive method. 
 
 3. The deductive method. 
 
 4. The informal method. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. Psychological and Logical Or- 
 ganization 194 
 
 Sec. 1. Introductory. 
 
 2. The daily lesson. 
 
 3. Incidental and formulated study. 
 
 4. Specific subjects. 
 
 5. Growth of subject-matter. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. Methods of Securing Real- 
 ness 213 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. Drill and Application 221 
 
 Sec. 1. Subject-matter as an instrument. 
 
 2. Application. 
 
 3. Drill. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. The Assignment 235 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. The Formal Lesson Plan 241 
 
 Sec. 1. The writing of lesson plans. 
 2. The form of the lesson plan. 
 
METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 THE STANDPOINT OF THE TEXT. 
 
 Section 1. Characteristics of the Aim of Education. 
 
 In investigating methods of teaching it is necessary to 
 formulate some aim of education, for methods of teaching- 
 are largely unsystematized. An employee in a shoe fac- 
 tory may cut out soles of shoes day after day without know- 
 ing anything about the finished product. . But methods 
 of teaching are not and can not be so mechanically sys- 
 tematized. They must be fluent, not fixed and ready made. 
 They vary with the child and with the subject-matter. 
 Hence the student of methods of teaching must have an 
 idea of the process as a whole, must have some objective 
 point toward which to work in order to make such organ- 
 ization as is necessary for reaching that point. 
 
 Multiplicity of Aim. — But the aims of education are 
 numerous. Eight are mentioned by two recent writers, 
 three of them being mentioned by both. Bagley 1 includes 
 in this list the Bread and Butter aim, the Knowledge aim, 
 the Culture aim, the Harmonious Development of all the 
 Powers and Faculties of Man, the Development of Moral 
 Character, and the Development of the Socially Efficient 
 Individual. O'Shea 2 includes the first, second, and fourth 
 of the above, and adds the Doctrine of Formal Discipline 
 
 '"Educative Process," pp. 40-65. 
 
 2 " Education as Adjustment," Chapters 4 and 5. 
 
 9 
 
10 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 and the Doctrine of Adjustment. Of statements of aims 
 both in the past and in the present Monroe 1 mentions some 
 fifteen or twenty. To these lists other individual state- 
 ments of aim might be added. 
 
 Relativity of Aim. — Not only are the statements of 
 the aim of education numerous, but there is no single 
 definition which holds absolutely for all times and for all 
 nations. Aims are relative. 
 
 First, they are relative to nationality. Each nation has 
 problems and conditions peculiar to itself, and, hence, since 
 it is the business of the educational system of each na- 
 tion to minister particularly to the life of that nation, the 
 aims of all the systems can never be identical to any 
 greater degree than the lives of the nations are identical. 
 
 Second, aims are relative to the age. For the ideals and 
 tendencies of any nation vary from age to age, changing 
 with the shifting influences of history, and so, for any 
 given nation the educational aim will not hold permanently 
 to any fuller extent than we can find the same tendencies 
 abiding permanently within the nation from age to age. 
 
 Third, they are relative to individuals in the nation. 
 For, not all individuals in any one nation have exactly the 
 same life to live or the same view point from which to 
 work. Therefore, the aim of education can not be con- 
 ceived to be the same for every member of the same nation. 
 The statesman will, as a matter of course, feel that train- 
 ing in citizenship should be the great aim of education. 
 But the philanthropist and social worker would hold just 
 as strongly that social efficiency should be the supreme 
 end. Or, again, any one individual, as for instance the 
 
 1,1 History of Education," various pages as per subject index. 
 
STANDPOINT OF THE TEXT H 
 
 teacher, may change the emphasis from one aim to an- 
 other according as he deals with different individuals. 
 For an immoral child it seems necessary to emphasize 
 moral training; for a selfish child, social efficiency; while 
 for an awkward child, adjustment seems to be the desired 
 end. 
 
 The Value of Multiplicity. — To offset the seeming 
 loss occasioned by the uncertainty of direction just out- 
 lined, there are two values growing out of this very un- 
 certainty which are worthy of recognition. 
 
 First, it leads to richness of aim. Whenever any in- 
 dividual, nation or age, adopts a paramount aim of edu- 
 cation it develops, analyzes, and applies it to life. Then, 
 when this aim is discarded by other individuals, nations, 
 or ages, it is not cast aside completely. Eather, the new 
 aim that is emphasized gathers up within it all the ideas 
 and tendencies of permanent value that have been worked 
 out in connection with the earlier aim. Each aim worked 
 out adds fertility and meaning to the total complex aim. 
 
 Second, it provides for greater freedom of individual de- 
 velopment. If in any nation a single aim of education 
 could be successful, it would indicate a nation of one ideal. 
 But in the nation of varied ideals, not every individual 
 has the same kind of life to live, nor exactly the same con- 
 ditions to encounter, and hence, a variety of aims makes 
 possible a variety of types of individual. 
 
 The Aim of Education. — We come nearer to a satis- 
 factory conception of the aim of education when we con- 
 sider each of these varied aims as a phase of one great, 
 complex aim, so complex that it is as difficult to define as 
 
12 METHODS OE TEACHING 
 
 are the ends and purposes of society which it mirrors. The 
 aim which any man selects is just that phase of the whole, 
 upon which he lays most emphasis, but it contains im- 
 plicit all the rest of the great complex aim. This is evi- 
 dent at once if we notice how advocates of any one aim 
 try to establish its claim to solitary importance by show- 
 ing that all the other aims are implied in it. For in- 
 stance, the defender of the moral aim endeavors to show 
 that an individual has to be socially efficient, well in- 
 formed, cultured, well trained, able to make adjustments 
 with facility, in order to be truly moral. And in return, 
 the defender of the social efficiency aim endeavors to show 
 that morality, information, training, ability to adjust, etc., 
 are all included in his aim. Moreover, each can defend 
 his position equally well since each has in mind about the 
 same content and differs from his opponent only in placing 
 stress upon a different phase of it. Hence, to repeat, the 
 aim of education is a complex idea difficult of analysis 
 and description, but in the main capable of being felt by 
 the people of the nation of whose educational life it is 
 the motive. 
 
 Requisites of a Working Aim. — However, every 
 teacher is forced to have some working statement of aim. 
 What this should be is determined by the relative condi- 
 tions already mentioned, and by the following additional 
 requisite. Any aim selected should be broad. Informa- 
 tion, formal discipline, or "bread and butter," as the end 
 of education, is too narrow in its emphasis. On the other 
 hand, morality, or social efficiency, or citizenship is each 
 a rich and worthy ideal toward which to strive. Hence, 
 of the two groups the latter is likely to produce the better 
 results since it expresses, in convenient form for thought 
 
STANDPOINT OF THE TEXT 13 
 
 and guidance, more of the total complex aim of educa- 
 tion than do the statements of the narrower aims. But the 
 choice of an aim is determined by its value in the hands 
 of the teacher using it. 
 
 Section 2. Distinctions in the Meaning of Aim. 
 
 Before stating the aim that is to be the point of view 
 of this text it is necessary to point out that there are two 
 quite different aspects of aim which are fundamental in 
 the consideration of problems of teaching. 
 
 Society's View of the Aim. — The school is estab- 
 lished and conducted as an organ of society. A long time 
 since, parents recognized their inability to properly in- 
 struct and train their offspring; consequently they organ- 
 ized the school, and provided for its maintenance. The 
 school thus became an organized enterprise of society. 
 Therefore, society possesses the right to require that the 
 school shall educate its offspring so that they will be pre- 
 pared to carry on the work of society with efficiency. 
 
 It is society's aim which we have usually in mind when 
 we speak of the aim of education. For example, when we 
 speak of social efficiency as an aim of education we fre- 
 quently mean that it is the business of the school to train 
 children so that when they come to take their places in 
 adult society they may do their part in the total life of 
 the community with efficiency. Society looks upon the 
 school and the pupils entrusted to it in much the same 
 light as we view the funds necessary to liquidate a promis- 
 sory note. The principal is due upon the date of the 
 graduation of the students; society is concerned only that 
 the obligation be met at maturity: it leaves to the school 
 
14 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 the methods of raising the funds to meet the obligations 
 at the proper time. 
 
 The Individual Aspect of the Aim. — But, to con- 
 tinue the illustration, there is another phase to the trans- 
 action. The teacher has immediately to set going business 
 enterprises which will produce the principal against the 
 time of maturity of the note. 
 
 Thus, wc are at once forced to consider the resources at 
 his command, and so we are brought face to face with 
 the pupils. They are the resources which must be devel- 
 oped to produce the quality and quantity of social commod- 
 ity which will offset the claims of society upon the school. 
 
 In other words, we are compelled, as soon as we begin 
 to discuss the problems of teaching, to consider the con- 
 scious aim of the pupil. We have to investigate the aims 
 of the school as viewed by the pupils from day to day. 
 It is necessary to know the end which society has in view 
 for the product; but it is equally necessary to know the 
 ends which the pupils have in view while in school. 
 
 Contrast Between the Aim of the Society and of the 
 Pupil. — First, the pupil's aim is conscious to him. 
 He is, in school or out, consciously "aiming" to do things. 
 He has certain problems to solve, needs to satisfy, ideals 
 to realize, hence, actions to perform. Society's aim may 
 sometimes be consciously in the mind of the pupil. But 
 for the most part, the realization of the social aim comes 
 as a by-product. It is rare for the child to be conscious 
 of duties of citizenship, or social efficiency, or other adult 
 responsibilities for any considerable part of the time. 
 
 Second, the individual phase is immediate. What the 
 pupil wants to do can, for the most part, be accomplished 
 
STANDPOINT OF THE TEXT 15 
 
 soon. The social phase seems remote to him. That which 
 it requires can wait for a long while before it need be 
 accomplished. 
 
 Third, the pupil's aim (problem, need, or value) is an 
 outgrowth of his own experience, and as such is full of 
 vitality and force. Society's aim is for him an arbitrary 
 imposition of aim from external sources, except in so far 
 as it can be appreciated and assimilated by him. 
 
 Fourth, the pupil's aim provides a motive ("motor") 
 for action, a necessary condition of progress. Society's 
 aim provides a standard for action, but not a motive, ex- 
 cept in so far as it is appreciated by the individual. 
 
 Fifth, the pupil's aims and ends are the naive begin- 
 nings out of which grows the aim as society sees it. This 
 latter is the fruition, the final stage of development. It 
 is the mature product of which the individual phases are 
 the rudiments. 
 
 The Value of This Distinction for the Teacher. — 
 
 There are several suggestive pedagogical facts which fol- 
 low from this distinction between the aims of society and 
 those of the child. 
 
 First, the teacher who desires to have his pupils become 
 all that society wishes will find in their present needs and 
 interests his way of approach. For, if this distinction 
 holds, he is aware of the fact that he has to begin with 
 the aims of the children as he finds them. They already 
 have conscious aims, and if any other aims are to be made 
 conscious in them they have to grow out of those already 
 present. Because of this, the teacher sees that the method 
 by which adult aims are to be made the conscious aims 
 of the pupils is the method of interpretation. For in- 
 
16 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 stance, if a pupil is to realize that good citizenship is a 
 worthy aim it must not be presented to him as it exists 
 in the world of legislatures, law courts, and judges, but it 
 must be translated in terms of the pupil's world, in terms 
 of the group to which he belongs. He must be led to see 
 citizenship in terms of the government of the home and 
 of the school. The sense of justice, which enables him to 
 respect the rights of his mates must later enable him to 
 respect the demands made upon him in the larger com- 
 monwealth of society. Only in so far as this is done can 
 he appreciate what good citizenship means. 
 
 Second, these distinctions warn the teacher against judg- 
 ing pupils by adult standards. For instance, the adult 
 standard of truthfulness can scarcely be required of a 
 young child who is, as yet, unable to distinguish between 
 a fact and an image. Again, that which by an adult is 
 called stealing may not be so considered by a child. 
 
 Third, the teacher who is inclined to follow the interests 
 and impulses of the child too far has here a standard by 
 which to tell when they should be followed and when re- 
 strained. For obviously those interests which do not tend 
 to the future perfection of adult aims must be restrained 
 and those which are in line with later aims should be re- 
 inforced. 
 
 Section 3. Methodological Statement op Aim. 
 
 When we are concerned with the relation of the school 
 to society stress is laid upon the aim of society — upon such 
 aims as social efficiency, adjustment, morality or citizen- 
 ship. But as soon as we begin to consider the purely edu- 
 cational question of the method by which the school is to 
 accomplish this aim. we are compelled to place society's 
 
STANDPOINT OF THE TEXT 17 
 
 aim in the margin of attention and bring the conscious 
 aims and ideals of the children into the focus. This ne- 
 cessitates a psychological or methodological line of ap- 
 proach, an approach by way of the processes of child life, 
 and requires some statement of the problems of such an 
 undertaking. 
 
 Line of Approach for Methods of Teaching. — In 
 
 accordance with what has been said, we shall consider the 
 function of education in our discussion as this : The aim 
 of education is to assist pupils to appreciate and control 
 the values of life. The reason for adopting a new state- 
 ment of the aim of education is chiefly that it provides a 
 better way of approaching the problems of method, one 
 which has not yet been worked upon to any great extent. 
 a point of attack which seems to be rich in possibilities, 
 and at the same time a phase of the great aim, having the 
 other phases organically related to it. 
 
 The remainder of the text will be an attempt to inter- 
 pret the teaching process in terms of values and their con- 
 trol, and for the present it is necessary only to make 
 clear by illustration the meaning of the terms. 
 
 ^Values of Life. — By values of life is meant those 
 things which are felt to be "worth while." To catalogue 
 them would be impossible; but some of the most important 
 have already been suggested in the above mentioned aims 
 of education. For instance: social efficiency, citizenship, 
 culture, making a living, acquisition of knowledge, and 
 morality, are all values of life. Every value which has 
 gained a place as an aim of education is a value worthy 
 of consideration. 
 
 Another hint of them may be secured by considering 
 
18 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 some of the aspects of experience. For instance, one of 
 the chief values of life is a strong and vigorous physique. 
 Another value of life is intellectual power. So valuable, 
 indeed, is this latter considered that it has received the 
 major part of the attention of school room practice (as 
 opposed to theory) for several centuries. Still another of 
 the values is a warm enthusiastic consciousness of the 
 social aspect of life, sensitive to the values of service and 
 of friendship, sensitive equally to the values of self re- 
 liance and of dependence. Still another is a rich, sensi- 
 tive, aesthetic nature. Added to these we have moral, 
 religious, and practical values. 
 
 Another way of looking at values is to connect them 
 with problems, interests, needs, and ideals. Every prob- 
 lem of which the solution is attempted, every interest of 
 which fulfillment is sought, every need for the satisfaction 
 of which we work, every ideal which we endeavor to realize 
 is a value. It is to us worth while. Otherwise it would 
 not receive attention. Sometimes the value is low, but 
 it is still a value. 
 
 Still another way of illustrating the values of life is 
 to connect them with the conscious aims of which we have 
 spoken above. Everything for which the child consciously 
 works is a value. If it were not so he would not strive 
 for it. Even where the child's conscious aim in learning 
 the multiplication tables is to avoid a scolding, this avoid- 
 ance of scolding is in itself a value. 1 
 
 Appreciation of Values. — By appreciation is meant 
 
 1 Adult standards of value differ from juvenile standards. Yet 
 that does not exclude the juvenile values as motives. It does 
 necessitate, however, that they be reinforced, where valuable as 
 judged by adult standards, and depreciated where the sympa- 
 thetic adult sees that they will be harmful. 
 
STANDPOINT OF THE TEXT . ly 
 
 both intellectual appreciation, which investigates the values 
 in order to get the perspective of things, and also that 
 appreciation which may be described as "emotional." It 
 is not sufficient that pupils know the values of life; they 
 should esteem them, prize them, love them as they do per- 
 sonal friends. 
 
 The whole question of appreciation of values, the method 
 of the growth and development of ideals, is one which is 
 sadly in need of analysis and interpretation. In this text 
 we shall consider only incidentally the methods of devel- 
 oping richer ideals. Chief emphasis will be laid upon 
 methods of securing control of ideals, values, problems, 
 and needs which are in the child's experience. The ethical, 
 methodological question of developing them cannot be 
 elaborately discussed. 
 
 Control of the Values. — By control of these values 
 we mean that we emphasize the ability of the pupil to lay 
 hold upon and to secure them. It stands for efficiency. 
 If the. child has the capacity for aesthetic enjoyment he 
 ought to be able to secure this aesthetic enjoyment; if 
 he wishes to be of social service he ought to be able to be 
 of social service; and if he has a desire for a religious 
 life he ought to have the skill to live a religious life. 
 When he has a scheme of values he should be able to fulfill 
 his heart's desire in connection with any of them. This 
 control of values lays emphasis upon discipline, upon ef- 
 ficient endeavor, fluency of expression, power to organize, 
 accuracy and readiness, good judgment, and common 
 sense. 
 
 The Standpoint of the Text.— The foregoing 
 schematic statement of the point of view from which the 
 
20 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 problem of methods of teaching will be attacked, is 
 probably sufficient for the reader to get his bearings in 
 connection with what is to follow. The standpoint is a 
 functional one, and presupposes, first, that the individual 
 gains his education through the solution of problems, the 
 satisfaction of needs, and the fulfillment of interests; 
 second, that problems, needs, and interests emerge when 
 some obstruction arises in efforts toward the securing of 
 the values of life; and, third, that the subject-matter of 
 the course of study is an organization of instruments 
 which have for their function the solution of these prob- 
 lems, the satisfaction of these needs, and the fulfillment 
 of these interests, and is so organized as to fulfill these 
 functions. These three facts are sufficient to interpret a 
 great mass of the empirical rules of teaching and to throw 
 light upon them. 
 
 The Problems to be Discussed. — In endeavoring to 
 attack methods of teaching from the foregoing point of 
 view we shall discuss the following problems : 
 
 1. Subject-matter, the instruments available for the 
 
 control of values. (The methods of developing 
 values will be discussed only incidentally.) 
 
 2. The methods by which motives for acquiring con- 
 
 trol of these instruments are secured. 
 
 3. The process by which these instruments are ac- 
 
 quired by the pupils. 
 
 4. The process by which the use of these instruments 
 
 becomes easy and accurate. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 SUBJECT-MATTER. 
 
 Section 1. Value of Subject-Matter. 
 
 Definition of the Term. — The term subject-matter 
 is not sufficiently technical to merit a heading in encyclo- 
 pedias or in dictionaries of philosophical terms. Its sig- 
 nificance to the popular mind may, however, be taken as 
 stated in the Century Dictionary: "the subject or matter 
 presented for consideration in some written or oral state- 
 ment or discussion." 
 
 In accordance with the spirit of the meaning therein 
 expressed, the term, as related to educational processes, 
 has come to refer in general to the detailed matter which 
 is taught in schools. We find it thus used in such terms 
 as the subject-matter of the course of study, the subject- 
 matter of American history, the subject-matter of physics, 
 of arithmetic, or of grammar. 
 
 The Importance of Subject-Matter.— The fact that 
 subject-matter is frequently discussed by educators would 
 seem to point to its importance in the process of teaching. 
 Nor is this appearance contrary to fact. For, although 
 the inspiring teacher, Jacotot, has said, "Everyone can 
 teach; and, moreover, can teach that which he does not 
 know himself", we to-day believe that no one can teach 
 who does not know his subject. Indeed, there are many 
 who take a position opposite to the one just quoted, and 
 
 21 
 
22 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 hold that knowledge of the subject is alone essential. The 
 truth of the matter is that subject-matter and method of 
 teaching cannot be separated. And this is true for the 
 reason that a method of teaching a subject is the manner 
 of development and organization of the subject-matter in 
 the minds of individuals. 1 Hence, in a discussion of 
 methods of teaching, a consideration of subject-matter is 
 of prime importance. 
 
 Inadequacy of Its Treatment. — But while it is an 
 
 obvious fact that subject-matter has every right to consid- 
 eration, the treatment which it receives in educational 
 theory is inadequate. That this is the case is due to our 
 failing to distinguish clearly between the educational aim 
 which society has in causing the child to be educated, and 
 the conscious aim which the child has in studying any spe- 
 cific unit of subject-matter. For, while it is true that the 
 aim of education is, for instance, to help citizens of a coun- 
 try to solve moral problems, it does not follow that in every 
 situation during a pupil's life he is conscious of a moral 
 problem in connection with every unit of subject-matter 
 that he studies. Nor can we say that every unit of sub- 
 ject-matter studied has as its purpose the solution of 
 moral problems. Hence, when we try to apply these ulti- 
 mate social ends to specific, everyday assignments, the 
 process breaks down, and society's educational aim is laid 
 aside without being utilized for specific guidance. And, 
 since the teacher finds it impossible to use this aim in 
 every lesson, he is compelled to seek some other incentives 
 for the daily assignments. These all reduce themselves 
 in the main to this, that the assignments are made to be 
 learned, and that, therefore, they must be learned by the 
 
 'See Chapter 7. 
 
SUBJECT-MATTER 23 
 
 pupil, who, in turn, is supposed to trust to the school as 
 the sponsor for their value. 
 
 If the teaching process is carried on under these con- 
 ditions, there is no necessity for getting any definite view 
 of the purpose of subject-matter. As a result, sometimes 
 the teacher falls into the error of accepting the subject- 
 matter without a question of its specific value to the child, 
 and views it as a pre-ordained system arranged for the 
 purpose of being acquired by the child one piece per day. 
 
 Necessity for Fuller Treatment. — But, as soon as 
 we look at the material to be taught as either an aid to 
 the child in the growth of ideals, or, more particularly, as 
 an aid in getting control of values, we are compelled to 
 scrutinize each unit of subject-matter, each idea and each 
 principle, each fact and each rule, in order to discover its 
 specific, intrinsic purpose. So long as we posit the fact 
 that the child is to learn all units for the same reasons, 
 as, for instance, because they are given him to learn, there 
 is no necessity for such scrutiny. - But, as t soon as we con- 
 sider that he is stimulated continually by a multitude of 
 desires, problems, and motives, and when we consider fur- 
 ther that the race has these same desires and has created 
 these units of subject-matter to satisfy them, we are ne- 
 glectful indeed if we do not endeavor to know what de- 
 sires or needs any unit which is being taught satisfies or 
 what problems it solves. 
 
 Section 2. Subject-Matter as a Wat op Acting. 
 
 By viewing subject-matter as unfolding a method by 
 which control may be secured, a unit of subject-matter is 
 seen to be a way of acting. And the word acting as used 
 
24 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 here does not refer merely to overt and physical activity, 
 but to the subtle psychical activities also, such as the in- 
 tellectual, the emotional, and the aesthetic. 
 
 To one to whose vision the term "subject-matter" sug- 
 gests merely the pages of a text-book, this definition will 
 seem to be a purely academic one and widely separated 
 from its usual context. But, a few illustrations chosen 
 from quite different fields will show the pertinence of the 
 definition. 
 
 Illustrations from Literature. — Tennyson's Cross- 
 ing the Bar is a way of thinking and feeling about 
 death. With this may be contrasted another way as pre- 
 sented to us in Browning's Prospice; or, still another, that 
 portrayed by Bryant in An Old Mans Funeral. The 
 Lord's Prayer and Now I lay me down to sleep are 
 both ways of praying. Excelsior is a way of viewing un- 
 conquerable aspirations. Macbeth is a way of thinking 
 and feeling about the progress of unfettered ambition. 
 Hamlet is a way of thinking and feeling about a life of 
 indecision. Job is a way of thinking and feeling about 
 the significance of suffering. Every unit of poetry or 
 prose is a way of thinking, feeling, or acting about some- 
 thing. 
 
 Illustrations from Arithmetic— Multiplication is a 
 
 short way of adding, as division is a short way of sub- 
 tracting. Promissory notes are methods or ways of keep- 
 ing permanent records of loans, and receipts are ways of 
 keeping permanent records of commodities delivered. 
 Common or decimal fractions are different ways of hand- 
 ling units smaller than the whole. Multiplication tables 
 are ways of making easy the learning of facts of multipli- 
 cation. Denominate numbers are ways of handling con- 
 
SUBJECT-MATTEE 25 
 
 crete measures. Percentage is a way of handling quan- 
 tities upon a basis of 100, and the decimal system is one 
 more or less convenient way of recording quantity. So, 
 also, we see that every arithmetical process is a ivay of 
 acting. 
 
 Illustrations from Sociology. — It may seem that an 
 institution is not a way of acting. But to show that it 
 may be viewed in that light let us consider some examples. 
 In Presbyterianism, for instance, Ave have without ques- 
 tion a very definite way of acting. Two hundred and fifty 
 years ago the supporters of Presbyterianism thought their 
 religious thoughts and lived their religious lives after a 
 fashion more or less peculiar to themselves. These 
 thoughts and principles of living they put at that time 
 into the form of a creed, which is essentially a handy de- 
 vice by which to teach Presbyterians how to think and act 
 upon certain matters. Again, the republican form of gov- 
 ernment is one way in which a group of people may act in 
 governmental matters. The Constitution of the United 
 States was formulated so that the people might know how 
 they should act in certain situations. Courts have been 
 established to interpret these rules, and to advise individ- 
 uals when doubt arises as to whether they have or have not 
 acted according to the rules laid down. 
 
 Illustrations from Tools. — Passing over to a con- 
 sideration of the tools with which we make things, we 
 again find the same definition to hold. A hammer is a 
 way of driving nails. A clock is a way of telling time. A 
 chair is a way of resting. A house is a method of protec- 
 tion from inclement weather. An inkstand is one way of 
 holding ink, and a pen is a way of transcribing ideas to 
 
26 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 paper. The map is a way of exhibiting geographic facts, 
 the text-book a way of telling facts and communicating 
 subject-matter. 
 
 Possibly this definition seems to do violence to fact for 
 the sake of a theory. Perhaps to speak of a hammer as a 
 way of driving nails may seem to be artificial. And it may 
 appeal to one as being nearer the truth to say that the ham- 
 mer is an object with which we drive nails. But so far 
 as the practical individual is concerned, the essence of 
 the hammer is just that it is a way of driving nails. 
 When the individual desires to control a situation by driv- 
 ing nails, the hammer is to him a way of driving nails. 
 And, so with all instruments, their instrumental function 
 is their intrinsic meaning. The essence of each is the 
 thing which it does. 
 
 Illustrations from Psychology. — An instinct is a 
 way of acting which is bequeathed to the individual at his 
 birth. A habit is a way of acting which the individual 
 has worked out for himself and retains. Memory is a 
 way in which the intellect acts in situations similar to 
 others previously acted upon. Eeasoning is a way in 
 which the intellect acts in the presence of circumstances 
 requiring a new organization of experience. Emotion 
 is not only a form of mental action but also a mode of 
 organic action. 
 
 Illustrations from Children's Meanings. — Perhaps 
 no better illustration of the foregoing meaning of subject- 
 matter in its bearing on the problems of pedagogy can be 
 secured than examples of meanings according to children's 
 vocabularies. Chamberlain gives among others the fol-. 
 lowing : 
 
SUBJECT-MATTER 37 
 
 Kiss is if you hug and kiss somebody. 
 
 Mast is what holds the sail up top of a ship. 
 
 Milk is something like cream. 
 
 Nail is something to put things together. 
 
 Nut is something with a shell good to eat. 
 
 Open is if the door is not closed. 
 
 Opera is a house where you see men and ladies act. 
 
 Pickle is something green to eat. 
 
 Quarrel is if you began a little fight. 
 
 Eing is what you wear on your finger. 
 
 Saw is if you see something, after you see it you saw it. 
 
 Vain is if you always look in the glass. 1 
 
 We observe that, in this haphazard defining by this par- 
 ticular child, meanings are, with few exceptions, sur- 
 charged with action. And even in certain of the instances 
 in which this is not evident, as "Milk is something like 
 cream," if the question were pushed further, and if the 
 child were asked, "What is cream?" we should find, quite 
 possibly, that even here also the real content of his idea of 
 the thing is an action. The foregoing are sufficient to 
 illustrate the characterization of subject-matter as a way 
 of acting. W T hile the student may not agree fully, he can, 
 at least, see what the term means as it is used here. 2 
 
 Section 3. Origin of Subject-Matter. 
 
 By the term "origin" of subject-matter is meant the 
 conditions under which subject-matter begins. It may 
 refer to origin in primitive times, a topic not discussed 
 
 Chamberlain, "The Child: A Study in the Evolution of Man," 
 pp. 146-7, quoting from Wolff, "Boy's Dictionary." 
 
 - The psychological ground from which this method of viewing 
 subject-matter is derived, is clearly stated in James' "Principles 
 of Psychology," Vol. I, pp. 332-6. 
 
28 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 in this text. Or, it may refer to the origin of new units 
 at the present time. The latter is the situation to which 
 attention may he briefly paid at this time, a fuller state- 
 ment being reserved for Chapter 8. 
 
 The condition which gives rise to the construction of a 
 new way of acting may be briefly stated as a breakdown, 
 or failure, in old ways of acting. That is to say, when 
 the way in which we have acted previously does not give 
 us satisfactory control of a situation which we wish to 
 control, we seek to find a new way of accomplishing our 
 end. For instance, so long as the drunkard looks upon 
 his drinking as a means of social goodfellowship he will 
 continue to drink. But if he is put into a new situation 
 wherein he thinks of his drinking in relation to his bodily 
 health, or to the welfare of his family, and if he appreci- 
 ates these as values to be controlled and sees that his drink- 
 ing habits are not serving him to that end, he will begin 
 to organize new ways of acting which will give him the 
 desired control. Or, again, if a conscientious teacher dis- 
 covers that his methods of teaching are not producing 
 good results, he tries to invent or secure new methods 
 which will give the desired control. The new ways of act- 
 ing and the revised methods of teaching are new units of 
 subject-matter which the individual seeks for when placed 
 in a situation in which old ways are not sufficient to give 
 the desired degree of control. 1 
 
 Section 4. Subject-Matter as Beoeganization. 
 
 When, for any reason, our old ways of acting become 
 inadequate and we are led to construct new ones, there is 
 
 - For the psychological basis of this principle, see Angell 's 
 ' ' Psychology, ' ' fourth edition, pp. 63-6, 214-7, 377, etc. 
 
SUBJECT-MATTER 29 
 
 only one source from which we can derive assistance in 
 the task — the new way must he evolved from 'the frag- 
 ments of the old, due regard being had to the circum- 
 stances in which the latter proved inadequate and to which 
 the new way must adapt itself. 
 
 Apperception. — This statement may be made clear 
 by showing its relation to the doctrine of apperception. 
 James in speaking of this process says 1 , "The gist of the 
 matter is this : Every impression that comes in from with- 
 out, be it a sentence which we hear, an object of vision, 
 or an effluvium which assails our nose, no sooner enters 
 our consciousness than it is drafted off in some determinate 
 direction or other, making connection with the other ma- 
 terials already there, and finally producing what we call 
 our reaction." 
 
 This doctrine requires restatement when utilized from 
 the standpoint of control. A practical illustration will 
 assist. Suppose a boy has no allowance for spending 
 money. This may work well enough until a circus is an- 
 nounced. He has no money, but he wants to go. The 
 doctrine of apperception would say that here a new idea 
 is in experience — the desire to go to the circus. Our 
 standpoint enables us to say that here is a new value to be 
 controlled. Apperception teaches us that this new idea is 
 interpreted in terms of old ideas in his mind. Our stand- 
 point requires us to say that the control comes through the 
 old ways of acting already present. For instance, if the 
 boy had always been in the habit of submitting easily to 
 conditions as they came, he might stay at home. Or if he 
 were in the habit of finding some way of earning money, 
 he would settle the difficulty in that way. 
 
 1 ' ' Talks to Teachers, ' ' p. 157. 
 
30 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Whether or not we use the terra apperception to express 
 this idea, it still follows that new situations are controlled 
 upon the basis of old ways already worked out. But, 
 inasmuch as the terra "apperception" is bound up with 
 the term "idea," and since we are dealing with the indi- 
 vidual in terms of activity, control, and values, it would 
 be better to use the term "reorganization" of experience; 
 since in controlling values, the whole of experience, and 
 not merely the intellectual, ideational activities, is used. 
 
 Illustrations. — Suppose the desired value is that of 
 being able to skate. In getting control of this value a 
 large number of old organizations and habits have to be 
 utilized. For instance, the muscular habits which secure 
 equilibrium and those which enable the leg to stroke out 
 have to be brought together and reorganized for new con- 
 ditions before the skating habit is formed. Again, we are 
 taught that all our later actions are based upon those reflex 
 and instinctive actions which are given at birth. And 
 from these the later habits and voluntary acts are derived 
 by reorganization. The poem, Crossing the Bar, is for the 
 reader, when first read, a reorganization of many ways of 
 thinking and feeling, and is in the mind of its author 
 an epitome of a lifetime of action. So also, The Lord's 
 Prayer, when we first learn it, is a reorganization of many 
 things we have thought and felt about God. Multiplica- 
 tion in arithmetic is a combination of a large mass of 
 arithmetical facts. A promissory note involves such ele- 
 ments as writing in ink, a promise, a statement of a sum 
 of money, of a certain length of time, and signing one's 
 name. Presbyterianism is the product of old ecclesiastical 
 ways of thinking and feeling in combination with certain 
 new ways of thinking and feeling engendered by the 
 
SUBJECT-MATTER 31 
 
 Eenaissance. The Constitution of the United States did 
 not spring Minerva-like from the heads of the Fathers of 
 Confederation. It was the reorganization of political ideas 
 prevalent at that time and adjusted to the peculiar condi- 
 tions of America. 
 
 Section 5. Function of Subject-Matter. 
 
 Subject-Matter and Control. — From the foregoing it 
 is evident that one function of subject-matter is to enable 
 us to get control of things we value. When we lose con- 
 trol of them, needs, desires, and problems arise and subject- 
 matter is invoked to secure the satisfaction of those needs, 
 the fulfillment of the desires, and the solution of the 
 problems. 1 
 
 Two Cases. — Two conditions may arise. On the one 
 hand, the breakdown or need may be one which has arisen 
 at some previous time, either in our own experience or in 
 that of i.he race. In such a case little reorganization is 
 necessary. We merely adopt the way of acting which was 
 previously worked out and applied with success. For ex- 
 ample, if I appreciate the pleasure of companionship and 
 have been accustomed to visit my friends in order to se- 
 cure this value, and if I am absent from my friends and 
 feel the need of their companionship, I may do as I have 
 done in the past — call upon them. To find this method 
 of getting companionship requires a minimum of reorgani- 
 zation. In these cases there is a close similarity between 
 the present need and a need which has already been felt 
 and for which a method of satisfaction has been worked 
 out. 
 
 On the other hand, the new situation may be very dif- 
 
 1 See Chapter 8. 
 
32 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 ferent from any which has arisen before. In this case 
 there must be a greater reorganization of experience. 
 When a youth begins to study evolution and seeks to 
 understand the origin of the species, he may have to make 
 almost revolutionary reorganization among the elements 
 of his old ways of thinking. Similarly, when the youth 
 brought up in luxury loses all his money he is face to face 
 with a situation of such startling novelty as to require the 
 most radical readjustment in his ways of living. 
 
 But in all these instances the new ways of acting, 
 whether much like old wa}^ of acting or very dissimilar, 
 have as their aim and function the control of values. 
 
 Subject-Matter and Values. — It is, likewise, a func- 
 tion of subject-matter to provide us with new values and 
 with an added appreciation of those already possessed. 
 Looked at in one way, values and ideals are themselves 
 ways of acting. For instance, if a person attempts to de- 
 fine an ideal, he resolves it into a series of actions. If one 
 is asked for an explanation of the ideal of civic righteous- 
 ness, a catalogue is given of ways in which the righteous 
 man acts; he votes, he works for clean politics, he helps 
 the needy, etc., etc. 
 
 A scientific statement of the method by which subject- 
 matter provides ideals and values has never, so far as I 
 know, been worked out in pedagogical literature. Much 
 has been said about the development of ideals and values 
 as the highest function of education, but comparatively 
 little has been said about how the teacher may logically 
 and constructively proceed in order to secure this end. 
 This much is known in an empirical way, however. If 
 pupils are brought into contact with newer and better 
 wavs of ac'tina', the contrast between their own and the 
 
SUBJECT-MATTER 33 
 
 newly discovered ones is often so forceful as to cause de- 
 velopment toward a higher plane. That is to say, the 
 teacher does much for the pupil when he places the values 
 before him and helps him to understand them. The 
 emotional appreciation will follow, to a certain extent, 
 without artificial stimulation. 
 
 Summary. — In this chapter we have seen that a unit 
 of subject-matter is a way of acting which arises first when 
 an individual does not have control of some value which he 
 desires; that it is constructed through a reorganization of 
 old ways of acting ; and that ttfe pedagogical function is to 
 provide both an appreciation of values and a means for 
 their control. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 DISTINCTIONS IN THE MEANINGS OF FUNCTION. 
 
 Section 1. Introductory. 
 
 Although the idea of function discussed in the last chap- 
 ter seems to be reasonably clear and easy to use, yet when 
 we consider subject-matter in its relation to the work of 
 the school, some further explanation is necessary. There 
 is a confusion in the meanings given to the term which 
 needs to be cleared up in order that subject-matter be 
 handled with the greatest possible efficiency. With these 
 distinctions the present chapter will deal. 
 
 In taking them up we may use as our text the tabulation 
 of functions of history and of science found in two well- 
 known text-books on the teaching of these subjects. 
 Bourne, in his text-book entitled "The Teaching of His- 
 tory and Civics," 1 gives the following as the values of his- 
 tory: 
 
 1. It interprets the world to the child. 
 
 2. It can make a direct appeal to interests which the 
 
 pupil already possesses. 
 
 3. It has a moral value. 
 
 4. It should help to produce an enlightened patriot- 
 
 ism. 
 
 5. It develops a love of truth, judgment, imagination, 
 
 and historical-mindedness. 
 
 ■Pp. 77-92. 
 
 34 
 
THE MEANING OF FUNCTION 35 
 
 6. It brings added pleasure within the reach of the 
 pupil — pleasure in the study of history as his- 
 tory. 
 
 Smith, in "The Teaching of Chemistry and Physics," 1 
 gives the following as reasons for studying science : 
 
 1. It trains in observation, comparison and induction, 
 
 in imagination, and in self-elimination. 
 
 2. Its information possesses value. 
 
 Section 2. Intrinsic and Indirect Functions. 
 
 In dealing with the function of any subject a distinction 
 must be made between the function which it serves in 
 school and that which it serves in the economy of the race 
 without reference to its utility in school. As soon as this 
 distinction is observed, it is at once seen that neither 
 science nor history was created primarily for the purpose 
 of training the powers of imagination, judgment, or rea- 
 son. They may serve these additional purposes indirectly; 
 but intrinsically they were created by the race for another 
 purpose. This leads to a distinction which may be dis- 
 cussed under the terms intrinsic and indirect. 2 
 
 The Intrinsic Function of Subject-Matter. — By this 
 term is meant the purpose for which subject-matter is now 
 used by the race irrespective of school considerations. It 
 may or may not be the original purpose for which the 
 subject-matter was created, as is seen in the case of chemis- 
 try, our modern inheritance from that ancient alchemy 
 whose object was to change the baser metals into gold. 
 But in either case we are concerned with the purpose which 
 
 1 Smith and Hall, ' ' The Teaching of Chemistry and Physics. ' ' 
 pp. 9-15. 
 = Cf. Baglev, "Educative Process," pp. 225-238. 
 
36 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 the subject serves outside school. Viewed from this same 
 standpoint, the function of history is to interpret the mod- 
 ern world in terms of the past. 
 
 Both of the authors quoted include this intrinsic func- 
 tion in their lists. Bourne makes it the first in his group 
 of values, and Smith states it as the second of his two 
 items. 
 
 The Indirect Function of Subject-Matter. — As soon 
 as we begin to consider all the functions which subject- 
 matter may serve in education, we are at once met by a 
 series of values which are not included within the intrinsic 
 function as just described. They are the by-products of 
 the processes in which the intrinsic functions are being 
 fulfilled. When the student is seeking to resolve material 
 things into their ultimate elements in chemistry, he will 
 receive at the same time, if he does the work well, addi- 
 tional benefits which flow therefrom. According to Smith 
 as quoted above, he will secure training in observation, in 
 comparison and induction, in imagination, and in that 
 clear judgment which comes from self-elimination. And 
 Bourne states that the study of history will also produce 
 its residue of training by developing judgment, imagina- 
 tion, historical-mindedness, and a love of truth. These 
 values are indirect in the sense that they are not striven 
 for by the pupils as the ends to be accomplished in the 
 study of the subjects of the curriculum, but are rather the 
 by-products which come from the pursuit of the intrinsic 
 function of the subject. 1 
 
 'We are not considering here those subjects and units of sub- 
 ject-matter, such as mental arithmetic, corrective gymnastics, etc., 
 of which the intrinsic purpose is to aid in the development of such 
 powers as have been mentioned; though these may be included 
 under the same term. 
 
THE MEANING OF FUNCTION 37 
 
 Classes of Indirect Functions.— Of these indirect 
 functions there are at least three. First, the disciplinary, 
 the training of the mental powers, such as memory, imagi- 
 nation, reasoning, habits of neatness, ideals of accuracy, 
 etc. From this much of the basis of its claims to recogni- 
 tion has been removed by recent investigations into the 
 facts regarding formal discipline. Second, the prepara- 
 tory 1 functions which belong to certain subjects. For in- 
 stance, algebra, while concerned intrinsically with other 
 matters, has an indirect advantage, following upon the so- 
 lution of its problems, in that it is a preparation for 
 higher mathematics. The third class includes those deco- 
 rative functions 2 which consist in a mere acquaintance with 
 certain subjects. A knowledge of historical names and 
 events, a reasonable ability to speak correct English, some 
 acquaintance with literary characters, all have a value 
 which is evident in a negative way at least, in the low 
 social standing tc which one not possessing them is ex- 
 posed. 
 
 Specific and Tonic Functions of Study. — Further 
 
 light may be thrown upon these distinctions by consider- 
 ing what may by analogy be called the specific and tonic 
 functions of subject-matter. For, just as quinine has a 
 specific function in its selective action upon the poisons of 
 the blood in malaria and kindred diseases, and has also a 
 tonic action upon the whole body as a result of this specific 
 action, so the study of subject-matter has both a specific 
 and a tonic function. Each unit has a specific point of 
 attack, a particular problem to solve, or need to satisfy, 
 and in addition, the acquisition of the unit produces a 
 
 'Bagley, op. cit., pp. 231-2. 
 2 Bagley, op. cit., pp. 230-1. 
 
38 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 certain exercise of the whole mental system somewhat gen- 
 eral in its action and elevating to the tone of the system. 
 The specific function of Bryant's Waterfowl is, let us say, 
 to bring to the reader the thought of the watchfulness and 
 care of God. This is the specific function it performs; 
 but in the study of the poem for this specific purpose there 
 is an exercise of the imagination, there is stimulated a dis- 
 crimination in the use of words, and there may be awak- 
 ened a wider sympathy for birds. As a result, all of these 
 faculties are strengthened and toned up. Again, the 
 specific function of the process of shoeing a horse is to 
 have the horse shod. Some of the tonic values of the op- 
 eration to the blacksmith's apprentice are, more adroit- 
 ness of muscle, greater keenness of eye, increasing satis- 
 faction in doing a good piece of work, and a better under- 
 standing of the nature of horses. The specific function 
 of a study of chemistry is to resolve matter into its ele- 
 ments, to get control of its transmutations, and make new 
 combinations; the tonic values which may accrue there- 
 from, irradiations, so to speak, of the- activity necessary 
 to accomplish this specific end, have already been sug- 
 gested. 
 
 In all these cases we are able to discriminate between 
 the value which is being consciously pursued and the wider, 
 more indefinite systemic values which flow from the effort 
 necessary to carry out this specific function, values of 
 which the one putting forth the effort is, perhaps, quite 
 unconscious. 
 
 We have here a loose connection between the intrinsic 
 and the specific functions. The term "intrinsic" differs 
 from the term "specific" only in this respect, that the 
 first refers to the fact that each unit was created by the 
 
THE MEANING OF FUNCTION 39 
 
 race for purposes other than those of the school; the sec- 
 ond term adds the fact that each unit was created by the 
 race for a specific purpose, distinct, to a certain degree, 
 from every other purpose. The terms "indirect" and 
 "tonic" are related in this way : the term "indirect" refers 
 to the fact that certain values follow from the study of 
 subject-matter as a by-product. For the most part, the 
 term "tonic" refers to the fact that the way in which 
 some of these values are gained and, particularly, the dis- 
 ciplinary value, is by the exercise of mental processes which 
 are heightened in tone by the very fact of being exercised. 
 
 Section 3. Function for the Author, Teacher, and Pupil. 
 
 These distinctions may be approached from another 
 point of view. We may look upon any unit of subject- 
 matter from three standpoints : 
 
 First, we may consider the problem which the author 
 wished to solve when he wrote. For instance, Longfellow 
 tells us that his purpose in writing Excelsior was to "dis- 
 play in a series of pictures the life of a man of genius, 
 resisting all temptations, laying aside all fears, heedless 
 of all warnings, and pressing right on to accomplish his 
 purpose." 1 This we may call the intrinsic function the 
 author intended the poem to serve. 
 
 Second, the function of the poem from the standpoint 
 of the teacher should, of course, include the intrinsic func- 
 tion which the author had in mind. But, in addition, the 
 teacher may have other purposes which he intends it to 
 serve. For instance, he may have in his classes some am- 
 bitionless boys upon whom he wishes it to act as a spur. 
 
 ^'Longfellow's Poetical Works," Vol. I, page 79 (Houghton, 
 Mifflin & Co., 1892 edition.) 
 
40 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Or, he may wish to use it as a means of giving his pupils 
 a training in literary interpretation. Now, these are the 
 indirect values that flow from a study of the poem and 
 may not have been thought of by the author at all. In 
 this case certainly Longfellow did not state that he in- 
 tended the poem to be a spur to anybody, nor to give a 
 training in literary interpretation. He says specifically 
 that his purpose was to "display the life of a man of 
 genius/' not to present a moral or critical treatise. Hence, 
 "we see that the teacher's view of the function must in- 
 clude the author's, but may include many other functions 
 beside. 
 
 Third, the function of the subject-matter may be con- 
 sidered from the student's point of view. When we con- 
 sider what he is consciously working for, we find at once 
 that he may not see as the function of the unit all those 
 purposes which the teacher expects it to serve in his edu- 
 cation. For instance, he may not be aware of the fact 
 that the teacher guilefully presents Excelsior in the hope 
 that it will spur him on to action, and he may not know 
 that the teacher intends the study of the poem to give him 
 greater powers of interpretation. Of course, on the other 
 hand he may be conscious of the teacher's intention, and 
 he may consciously strive for this greater power which the 
 teacher wishes him to have. But, the point is that to the 
 student the purpose of the poem need not be, and usually 
 is not, as broad as it is to the teacher. 
 
 When we consider the relation of the pupil's view of the 
 function to that of the author, two facts are in evidence. 
 In the first place, the pupil's view may not be the same as 
 that of the author. For instance, he may not see in the 
 poem under discussion that there is "displayed the life 
 
THE MEANING OF FUNCTION 41 
 
 of a man of genius." The poem may be for him only the 
 adventures of a very strange sort of boy. He may not be 
 able to look behind the story to find the meaning which 
 the author intended. But, in the second place (to lay 
 down a principle which, while allowing for numerous 
 exceptions, is generally applicable), the function of any 
 unit as the author intended it and as the pupil uses it 
 should be as nearly as possible identical. For, if each unit 
 is a tool constructed for a specific purpose, then the pupil 
 will as a general thing get the most good from using if 
 for that specific purpose. A razor will usually do its best 
 work when it is used as an instrument for shaving; the 
 tragedy of Macbeth will exert its influence to the fullest 
 degree when the function it serves in the life of the reader 
 is that which Shakespeare created it to serve. 
 
 The teacher's, the author's, and the pupil's views of the 
 function of subject-matter may be compared and con- 
 trasted as follows. The teacher's idea of the purpose of a 
 unit must include both the author's and the pupil's whether 
 these latter agree or not. It may include also certain other 
 indirect functions of which neither the pupil nor the author 
 is conscious. The author's and the pupil's views of the 
 function are in the main identical; for in both the in- 
 trinsic function is uppermost. Where a discrepancy be- 
 tween them exists, either f he author's or the pupil's point 
 of view may determine for the teacher what is the intrinsic 
 function, and which shall do so depends upon circum- 
 stances. If we are anxious to find out what the author was 
 trying to say, then his purpose is the intrinsic function, 
 but if we are looking for something to adopt and utilize 
 in solving some problem of the pupil, the function of the 
 
42 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 author becomes secondary in importance and the pupil's 
 view becomes the intrinsic function. 
 
 Advantages of These Distinctions.— '• First, they make 
 possible a separate disposition of the functions which sub- 
 ject-matter serves. For instance, the teacher should, in 
 beginning to teach any subject to a class, consider all the 
 values that may be controlled through a study of the sub- 
 ject — such things as thoroughness, honesty, neatness, and 
 discipline of memory and imagination should be consid- 
 ered, and those selected which are most relevant in the 
 particular conditions in which he finds himself. Then, 
 from day to day, as each unit of subject-matter is taught, 
 such of these as need special attention should .be noted. 
 In addition to this, the specific, intrinsic function of each 
 unit should be determined. But, the indirect purposes 
 should form the background of the stage. The specific 
 intrinsic function should be in the foreground of the stage, 
 the thing upon which the teacher attempts to centre the 
 conscious efforts of the children. The indirect purposes 
 give guidance, but they cannot occupy the focus of atten- 
 tion all the time. 
 
 Second, if these indirect results are by-products, it is 
 evident that the attention of the pupils should, for the 
 major part of the time, be directed upon the intrinsic 
 functions of subject-matter. Most attention is given by 
 pupils in arithmetic to measuring quantities, which is the 
 intrinsic purpose of arithmetic, and less is given to train- 
 ing powers of accuracy. More of the pupil's attention 
 will be given to communicating things of value in lan- 
 guage, and less to the forms of paragraphs and sentences. 
 In history the greater part of the pupil's attention should 
 be placed upon the solving of the problems of the race in 
 
THE MEANING OF FUNCTION 43 
 
 continuous series from their ancient to their modern forms, 
 while a smaller amount should be placed upon the train- 
 ing of memory and imagination. 
 
 Thirdj the indirect functions of subject-matter may, as 
 we saw in Chapter 2, serve as guides to the solving of our 
 conscious problems. For instance, no process in arithmetic 
 will really fulfill its intrinsic function adequately unless 
 accuracy is used. Hence, accuracy is not only a by-prod- 
 uct ; it is also an aid. It is a by-product which is so closely 
 related to the central process that the central process can- 
 not get along without it. This is true in the case of most 
 of the indirect values. 
 
 By virtue of this close relationship, we are able to state 
 the conditions under which the indirect values should be 
 given a place in the focus of attention of the pupils — viz., 
 when the pupils' failure to adequately carry out the in- 
 trinsic function of the subject-matter is imminent or has 
 occurred. For instance, when it seems likely that, they 
 will not be able to get the correct result in measuring, or 
 when it is already evident that they cannot, because of in- 
 accuracy, then accuracy should be brought to the focus of 
 attention for the time being. That is to say, attention 
 should be paid to the indirect functions of subject-matter 
 when the direct ones have broken down, or are on the verge 
 of doing so. 
 
 Fourth, these distinctions enable us to draw a clear line 
 of demarcation between the needs that children feel and 
 the needs which the teacher feels that they have. It is one 
 thing for the teacher to feel that a boy needs punishment ; 
 it is a quite different thing for the boy to feel that he needs 
 it. It is one thing for the teacher to feel that the pupil 
 needs history in order to make him a good citizen; it is 
 
44 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 quite another thing for the pupil to feel that he has this 
 need. Yet, no matter what purpose the teacher has in 
 view, the function which the subject-matter will perform 
 in the work of the school is dependent also upon how the 
 pupil feels about it. 
 
 Of the two, the child's conscious need must be the start- 
 ing point of the school process. If the teacher is to have 
 the child's estimate of his own needs become identical with 
 the teacher's estimate of them — and this latter, in the 
 main, makes for the greater social efficiency — he must de- 
 velop those needs which the child does feel until they come 
 into the form of those which he, as the wiser individual, 
 feels and appreciates. 
 
 Fifth, we see, also, that on the whole those units of sub- 
 ject-matter of which the child cannot appreciate the in- 
 trinsic function as judged from the author's (inventor's) 
 standpoint ought not to be forced upon the pupil before the 
 relevant needs are present. Why give him subject-matter 
 for which he has no apparent use? It may abide for a 
 time in memory as so much foreign material, seldom to be 
 assimilated, probably soon to be lost. 
 
 Sixth, these distinctions further lead us to see the futil- 
 ity of trying to follow a text-book slavishly. The author 
 may not have had the problems of any real pupils in mind, 
 or he may have built it for his own pupils, from whom 
 other pupils may differ. And, again, different classes 
 which the same author may have, have different needs and 
 problems arising in a different order from year to year. 
 Hence, if we are to follow the conscious needs of the chil- 
 dren and introduce subject-matter whose intrinsic function 
 is to satisfy these needs, we must follow the lead of the 
 
THE MEANING OF FUNCTION 45 
 
 pupils and not that of the order of the text-book, unless 
 the two run side by side. 
 
 Finally, these distinctions require the teacher to scruti- 
 nize every unit of subject-matter to see what is its in- 
 trinsic, specific function; for otherwise it may not be used 
 in the situation for which it was intended. It is not suf- 
 ficient to consider merely that a shovel and a fork both 
 develop muscle. Of much more importance is it to know 
 in addition for what each of these instruments is especially 
 useful. If only muscular training were involved there 
 would be no harm in pitching hay with the shovel. Per- 
 haps that would be strongly conducive to muscular devel- 
 opment. And yet it would not be very sensible in practical 
 life. 
 
 The teacher should realize the folly of saying, for 
 example, that for his purposes in class the function of 
 Hamlet is to train the imagination, or to create a love for 
 good literature. In that case, the purpose of Hamlet is 
 not different from that of a hundred other poems. But 
 when we say that the specific, intrinsic function of the 
 play is "to show the dissolution of an indecisive character,'' 
 then Hamlet stands by itself distinct from all other poems. 
 The student turns to it for enlightenment concerning the 
 question of indecision of character. That should be the 
 central theme of the recitation, the one upon elucidation of 
 which the most of the attention should be centered. 
 
 Section 4. Subject-Matter as End and as Instrument. 
 
 End and Instrument. — Another series of distinctions 
 is made in the meanings of "function" of subject-matter. 
 We know that some times a specialist claims that his sub- 
 ject should be studied for its own sake, while other edu- 
 
46 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 cators may hold that it should be used only as an instru- 
 ment for control of other things of value. That is, to state 
 it otherwise, some educators claim that particular subjects 
 are values in themselves, while others claim that they are 
 of use only in getting control of other values. 
 
 This may be illustrated by answers to the following 
 questions. First, Why study history? Two answers may 
 be given: (1) because it is worth while for its own sake; 
 (2) because it assists in the understanding of modern in- 
 stitutions. Second, Why study subjunctives in Latin? 
 Again the two answers may be given: (1) because they 
 should be known; (2) because they will help in under- 
 standing subjunctives in English. Or, again, Why learn 
 to spell? And the answers are: (1) because one should 
 be able to spell; (2) because it will be necessary in order 
 to convey ideas correctly. In the first terms of the series 
 we view the units of subject-matter as ends and values 
 which are their own justification. In the second terms we 
 view them as instruments which are of use for other pur- 
 poses. 
 
 These two standpoints are held at present by some con- 
 servatives on the one hand, and by some radicals on the 
 other. For many centuries the average teacher has been 
 going on the assumption that the subject-matter is in the 
 text to be learned, and that that is the end of the matter. 
 In recent years some radicals have appeared who hold that 
 in some of the subjects, at least, as for instance, arithmetic 
 and grammar in the grades, none of the material should 
 be taught except that which is found to be of use in work 
 other than arithmetic and grammar. These subjects, it is 
 claimed, should be studied incidentally. For the present, 
 the dogmatic statement must suffice that, while every unit 
 
THE MEANING OF FUNCTION 47 
 
 of subject-matter is both end and instrument, neverthe- 
 less in our school systems it is the instrumental aspect of 
 every unit which is in most serious need of being clearly 
 understood and strongly emphasized. We have swung too 
 far to the other extreme. We are too prone to teach a 
 thing without caring what is its use anywhere else in 
 life. 
 
 Advantages of This Distinction.— One advantage of 
 this distinction is this, that when a teacher, mindful of it, 
 endeavors to find out for himself the function of a unit 
 of subject-matter, he will not be satisfied with the answer, 
 "It should be known for its own sake." He will endeavor 
 to find reasons why it should be studied for other than its 
 own sake. For instance, when he asks himself, "Why 
 study about the Boston tea party?" he will not be content 
 with the answer, "We ought to know about it." He will 
 ask another question, "Why ought we to know about it?" 
 and will be better satisfied with the reply, "Because it helps 
 to better understand the movement toward the Declara- 
 tion of Independence." This second why is the more im- 
 portant of the two, because it gives each unit of subject- 
 matter a chance to present evidence of its total value, both 
 as an end in itself, and as an instrument of use in getting 
 control of other values. By this means it is given a 
 greater right to consideration when the teacher is deciding 
 what to teach the children. 
 
 Another advantage of this second "why" is that it points 
 to a way of securing a stronger motive for the study of a 
 unit. If the pupil does not feel the motive for studying 
 a thing for its own sake, as so frequently happens, this 
 second "why," by revealing its use for other purposes, 
 
48 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 points the way toward discovery of other possible motives 
 that may be appealed to. 
 
 Summary. — Returning to our two illustrations in 
 
 the introductory section of this chapter, we are now able 
 to assign differing values and places to the members of the 
 lists there tabulated. In the case of science, the second 
 function listed is the intrinsic function. Whether this in- 
 formation should be studied for its own sake or because it 
 may be an instrument in getting control of other values, 
 the author does not state. The first function of science 
 stated is indirect and disciplinary. It is a form of the 
 tonic effects of the study of the subject-matter. 
 
 In the case of history, the first function is intrinsic. 
 Here is the reason why history is studied. The second 
 probably illustrates the fact that history is an instrument 
 in the fulfillment of interests, and thus considers the sub- 
 ject-matter as an instrument. The third, fourth, and fifth 
 are indirect functions. These come mainly as by-products; 
 only occasionally are they brought to the focus of attention. 
 The sixth views history as an end in itself, worthy of study 
 because of the pleasure history as history gives. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 THE INTRINSIC FUNCTION OF SUBJECT-MATTER. 
 
 Section 1. The Eace and Subject-Matter. 
 
 The race has had from primitive times certain great 
 and fundamental needs and interests to satisfy and prob- 
 lems to solve. The solution of some of these has been re- 
 duced to instincts, to reflexes, and, in the case of the indi- 
 vidual, to habits. But the vast majority have still to be 
 controlled by conscious effort. 
 
 Primitive man could not get complete control of his 
 values, nor have we achieved that end completely. Yet 
 every generation has tried to do so, and in making the 
 attempt has utilized and added to the subject-matter (the 
 ways of acting) of preceding generations, changing, mold- 
 ing, and reorganizing it as handed clown by them. In this 
 way refinements of action, niceties of method, short-cuts to 
 the desired result, and increasing efficiency have resulted. 
 
 Among all the needs, problems, and interests of the 
 race some are fundamental and some are transitory. For 
 instance, we have to-day in America many problems which 
 will not be the problems of the next generation, just as 
 many of the problems of the last generation are no longer 
 ours. And when they disappear they will take with them 
 the subject-matter which was evolved to solve them. The 
 text-books which deal with them will grow obsolete and 
 
 49 
 
50 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 be no longer used, because no longer serving a vital pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Thus we see that the value and persistence of the need 
 partly determines the retention of the relevant subject- 
 matter. The race preserves only those ways of acting 
 which relate to valuable and persistent needs. For the 
 labor of recording them will deter it from preserving 
 them unless there is probability of their being used again. 
 Indeed, if they are not frequently used they will drop 
 out of experience naturally and of their own accord. 
 
 The other factor which determines the retention of sub- 
 ject-matter is the grade of its efficiency. If one way of 
 acting satisfies a need better, or solves a problem better 
 than another, it will be retained, while the other is al- 
 lowed to slip into the limbo of things no longer useful. 
 Hence, we find to-day that text-books in science live only 
 for a few years and must then be discarded. On the other 
 hand, we find the Bible still read, and Shakespeare still 
 studied, while thousands of more recent books are already 
 discarded. This is because no ways of satisfying our re- 
 ligious and moral and certain of our literary needs have 
 been found as satisfying as these. And both these books 
 will be retained either until the needs which they satisfy 
 disappear from experience, or until some better ways of 
 satisfying them are discovered. 
 
 Another fact of interest in connection with the relation 
 of the race to subject-matter is that the needs which are 
 looked upon as of most value call for the greatest efforts 
 looking toward the satisfaction of them — a rule which ap- 
 plies to the efforts of the race as a whole and to the efforts 
 of the individuals composing it. For example, the solu- 
 tions of moral problems are much better worked out than 
 
FUNCTION OF SUBJECT-MATTEE 51 
 
 are the solutions of aesthetic problems, because the rank 
 and file of humanity find moral situations more vitally 
 connected with their total welfare than are aesthetic situ- 
 ations. 
 
 When Ave turn from the race to the school we find the 
 same factors entering. We see, on the one hand, the needs, 
 problems, interests, desires, and uncontrolled values of the 
 children; and, on the other hand, efforts to satisfy, solve, 
 fulfill, and control these things. In the needs of the 
 child we find approximately the more fundamental and 
 simple needs of the race ; and it was with the aim of help- 
 ing him to satisfy those needs that the race invented the 
 school. The school endeavors to perform its task by secur- 
 ing racial subject-matter and selecting those methods which 
 the race, after a long process of trying out and revising, 
 has pronounced the best. These are collected either in 
 text-books or in the scholarly material which the teacher 
 possesses beyond the text. 
 
 From all the foregoing facts it follows that the first 
 duty of the teacher is to determine the intrinsic function 
 of every unit of subject-matter. What these intrinsic 
 functions are we shall try to illustrate briefly, leaving for 
 the teacher who knoAvs his subject-matter the task of de- 
 termining in detail the function of the Avhole subject- 
 matter and the specific function of each unit within the 
 subject. 
 
 Section 2. Language Group. 
 
 The intrinsic function of language is usually stated as 
 the communication of ideas. For purposes of method this 
 may be analyzed and stated as follows : 
 
 The intrinsic function of language is (1) the communi- 
 
52 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 cation through words, (2) of things of value, (3) between 
 persons having a like appreciation of these values, but (4) 
 possessing different levels of control. In so far as other 
 means than words are used for the communication of things 
 of value we have language only by analogy. Painting is 
 not language in the strict meaning of the word, because 
 it does not communicate through words. 
 
 Language will not be used to best advantage unless 
 there is something of value to be communicated. Those 
 subjects upon which we have nothing of value to say and 
 over which we neither have nor desire to have control we 
 do not talk about. On the other hand, we are not only 
 willing but anxious to discuss those topics and ideas which 
 are of great value to us and over which we either have or 
 desire to have control. The more valuable they seem, the 
 more enthusiastic, forceful, and burning are our words. 
 The man with a message is one who has a deep apprecia- 
 tion of some value and of the efficacy of some method of 
 securing control over it. The ordinary school composi- 
 tion set by the teacher is not conducive to good expres- 
 sion if it is not felt by the class to be of value. Whether 
 it is valuable as judged by adult standards does not affect 
 the situation. If the pupil does not feel the value it pro- 
 vides no motive. 
 
 Unless there is an appreciation of values common to 
 both speaker and hearer language will not function prop- 
 erly. We do not tell our good jokes to the literal-minded. 
 The lover of Shakespeare does not discuss his beloved 
 author with a street urchin, nor do we talk about our great 
 ideals to one who will scoff at them. But if we find an- 
 other lover of Shakespeare, how easy to converse with him 
 for hours; and how easy it is to grow enthusiastic over 
 
FUNCTION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 53 
 
 our ideals with one who is in sympathy with them! On 
 the other hand, we are not surprised that the dry me- 
 chanical teacher of language who looks upon compositions 
 as compositions and does not lead his pupils to feel that 
 their themes are of real interest to him, should have pupils 
 who detest the subject. 
 
 Unless there is a difference in level between speaker and 
 hearer there will be little force in language utterance. 
 Language is for the purpose either of asking questions of 
 some one with better control, or of answering questions, 
 implicit or explicit, by some one with a higher level of 
 control. We do not ask a question enthusiastically of one 
 whom we believe to know less about the subject than we 
 ourselves. Nor, on the other hand, are we eager to give 
 information on a subject to those who we think know 
 more about it than we. We have to feel that we can give 
 something that the audience will consider valuable before 
 we use language in the way that is most vigorous and 
 forceful. 
 
 Under some circumstances we use language as a means 
 of revealing a consciousness of social worth. That is 
 to say, to individuals who, because of the possession of 
 a supposedly secret body of knowledge, consider them- 
 selves to belong to a distinct group and order, we express 
 our ideas for the purpose of showing them that our pos- 
 session of this knowledge gives us also the right to belong 
 to the group. Secret societies afford examples of this. 
 It is this insufficient motive which is most commonly used 
 in school. The pupil recites in order to prove his knowl- 
 edge of a certain fact which the teacher and the other 
 pupils are supposed to know. He is not made to feel that 
 
54 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 he may add to the total of knowledge or ways of control 
 from his own experience. 
 
 Pedagogical Applications. — A brief application of 
 this function may be made to the problems of teaching. 
 First, the pupil writing compositions should choose his 
 own individual topics on which to write. He should be 
 advised to write superlative experiences. That is, he should 
 choose the most interesting, the funniest, the sad-dest, the 
 best, etc. These will be the most valuable to him and 
 most likely to prove interesting to his audience. 
 
 Second, the pupil should have as his audience, not the 
 teacher merely, but the class as well. If he is writing for 
 the class he will be more likely to feel that his level on his 
 particular subject is above that of his audience. 
 
 Third, the pupil should be taught not only to choose 
 for his themes topics which are of value to himself, but 
 he should learn to select from among such themes those 
 which will be likely to prove of interest to his audience. 
 This will help to keep him from being a bore in later 
 life. 
 
 Fourth, the teacher should instill into the pupils the 
 desire to tell him things about which he does not know, 
 and should cultivate the habit of making the pupils aware 
 that they are able to tell him things with which he is un- 
 familiar. There are some fundamentals, ignorance of 
 which would be a shame to him, but there are countless 
 other things to claim full knowledge of which would be 
 sheer hypocrisy. 
 
 Forms in Language. — Forms are tools which the race 
 has devised to make exact the communication of values 
 through words. Each form is a tool with a specific func- 
 
FUNCTION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 55 
 
 tion; it is built to serve a particular purpose subsidiary 
 to the main function of language. 
 
 Pedagogical Applications.— Since forms are tools 
 each with a specific function devised to help the child 
 over specific difficulty, it follows without question that the 
 form should be taught only when the difficulty, for the 
 removal of which it was created, is consciously felt by the 
 pupils. Why teach unity as a law of the paragraph if the 
 pupil does not see that his failure to observe the law of 
 unity results in his failure to make clear what he wishes 
 to tell? Why teach paragraphing unless the pupil is made 
 conscious of the fact that the thing of value which he 
 wishes to share with his audience is mutilated because he 
 does not paragraph? There is a reasonableness about 
 forms which appeals to students as soon as they become 
 conscious that language devoid of form is deficient in the 
 fulfilling of the function of language. A fuller state- 
 ment of a method of introducing forms so as to observe 
 this principle will be found in Chapter 10. 
 
 Rhetoric. — The desire to see how we communicate 
 values exactly has given rise to grammar and rhetoric. 
 The term "rhetoric" is derived from the Latin, rhetor, 
 meaning a teacher of oratory, a rhetorician. The function 
 of the rhetor in Eoman society was to teach rules by which 
 disputants and orators might convince their audiences. 
 The object in view was frequently the very practical one 
 of convincing judges and common people that the line of 
 action proposed by the speaker was the correct one to fol- 
 low. In other words, the speaker had something of value, 
 some way of acting, of settling a lawsuit, or of deciding- 
 political questions which he considered of sufficient worth 
 
56 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 to be followed. Ehetorie was the compilation of the rules 
 which would enable him to communicate his conviction 
 most effectively. In this way a rather large body of 
 rules was formulated ; and to these we now apply the terms 
 rhetoric and oratory, rhetoric dealing with structure of 
 a composition, oratory with its delivery. We include 
 within the compositions considered in rhetoric, not only 
 those which are to be delivered from the platform, but 
 also those which may be published through print. How- 
 ever, the two cases are similar. In each there is, first, 
 the valuable experience to express; and second, the rules 
 which will make the expression effective. 
 
 The study of rhetoric embraces the study of the forms 
 of discourse, narration, description, argumentation, ex- 
 position, and of the paragraph. The function of all of 
 these is to set forth some idea, the solution of some prob- 
 lem thought to be valuable. In narration, the purpose is 
 not simply to tell a story, but to embody in the story some 
 idea possessed by the writer, to use the story as a means 
 of illustration, the "idea" being the meaning of the illus- 
 tration. If the writer does not choose to use narration to 
 set forth this idea he might use description, argumenta- 
 tion, or exposition, each in its own way being capable of 
 conveying the all-important idea (or solution). The func- 
 tion of the paragraph in this connection is to set forth the 
 individual units that are to be used in the handling of 
 the solution or idea. 
 
 Grammar. — The function of grammar is to set forth 
 the rules by which words are related in sentences in order 
 to convey values with definiteness and ease. The original 
 form of the sentence with very young children is some- 
 what analogous to our present interjection. In its early 
 
FUNCTION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 57 
 
 form the sentence is composed of a single "word" which 
 contains within itself rather indefinitely, the experience 
 which is to be communicated. Later, this one "word" 
 is, under the growing desire to be more definite and facile 
 in speech, broken up into all the grammatical forms which 
 are evolved and utilized by the adult. For instance, the 
 pronoun probably arose from the desire to have not only 
 greater definiteness, but also greater ease of expression; 
 and the adjective arose from a desire to make the im- 
 plication contained within the substantive more definite, 
 as, for instance, when instead of directing a person to a 
 house, we direct him to the big, red, brick house. 1 
 
 Pedagogical Applications. — If each grammatical 
 form, even the most subtle, has been created by the race 
 to express values more definitely or more easily, it follows 
 that functional rather than structural grammar should 
 be taught. The history of the sentence in its rough out- 
 lines should be followed in detail sufficient to set forth 
 the problem of grammar, viz., the securing of definite- 
 ness and ease. Then no form should be taught without 
 the class seeing how it aids in its own specific way the 
 accomplishment of either of these aims. 2 
 
 Punctuation. — The generic function of punctuation 
 is the same as that of its parent, language ; it helps to com- 
 municate values. Its specific contribution is that of help- 
 ing to convey relations and connections in thought by 
 means of certain arbitrary symbols called punctuation 
 marks. And each of these marks has a specific function 
 
 1 Cf. Chapter 15 (Illustrative Lesson on the Adjective). 
 
 2 For an attempt in high school work to carry out the view- 
 stated here, see Scott & Buck 's ' ' Brief English Grammar, ' ' Scott. 
 Foresman & Co., Chicago, 1908. 
 
58 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 which may oe found tabulated in any text-book on punc- 
 tuation. 
 
 Pedagogical Applications. — If each mark indicates a 
 certain kind of relation, it follows that the marks cannot 
 be efficiently taught as tools of communication if the 
 child cannot see their intrinsic utility. For instance, the 
 comma cannot be insisted upon by the teacher, nor util- 
 ized by the pupil except in certain conventional situations, 
 until the pupil is able to appreciate the relation which it 
 is meant to express. And since the comma expresses the 
 most subtle relations of any of the punctuation marks, 
 only its simpler uses should be taught or insisted upon 
 before the eighth grade of the elementary school. 
 
 Reading. — Reading is similar to language except in 
 one particular. The reader does not express his valuable 
 experience in his own words. He accepts the words of 
 another and to that extent only he makes them his own. 
 
 Hence, general methods for teaching reading are iden- 
 tical with those for teaching language. Other things being- 
 equal that reading will be most efficient which communi- 
 cates something of value to another person who, though 
 able to appreciate its value, has not come into possession 
 of it. In other words, reading is most efficient when the 
 reader presents something, which to him is valuable, to an 
 audience which is sympathetic but lacking in the full 
 knowledge of what he presents. The fact that the great 
 bulk of the reading in the public schools transgresses these 
 three conditions is so common as to escape notice. 
 
 Writing and Spelling. — The function of handwriting 
 is essentially to record valuable experiences in written 
 symbols for the purpose of communication, and thereby 
 
FUNCTION OF SUBJECT-MATTEK 59 
 
 to secure control of something of value. Legibility, and, 
 to a lesser degree, speed, are the essential characteristics. 
 Writing fulfills its intrinsic function when it promotes 
 with facility the transfer of experiences. The function 
 of orthography is to arrange letters in ivords in the order 
 decided upon by social usage, all of which is intended for 
 the purpose of accurately communicating valuable ex- 
 periences. The penalty for incorrect spelling is essentially, 
 not the stigma of being uneducated, but the failure to 
 give thought correct expression. A phonetic or simplified 
 spelling is justifiable on the ground that it will be less 
 likely to endanger inaccurate communication than is our 
 present involved, conventional orthography. The objection 
 to phonetic spelling, that we miss thereby the historical 
 markings of words, does not decide the essential point at 
 issue. The question must be settled upon the grounds 
 of increased facility of communication. Only in so far 
 as the ability to see the derivation of words adds to ac- 
 curacy of expression, can this objection be considered as 
 an argument against changing to a phonetic system. 
 
 Section 3. History. 
 
 The intrinsic function of history is to real-ize the past 
 in such a way as to help us appreciate and get control of 
 present values. Or, to put it in other terms, history is 
 studied to (1) get a picture of the past in order to (2) 
 understand the present. 
 
 History may be studied for its own sake, or as an in- 
 strument for understanding the present. They who study 
 it as an end in itself are concerned only with the past; 
 its relations to the present are secondary and subsidiary 
 to this other aim. They claim that the function of his- 
 
60 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 tory is to real-ize the past, and that present conditions, 
 problems, and activities are of use in so far as they assist 
 in this process. History is from this point of view a 
 value in itself, worthy of being controlled for its own sake. 
 
 When history is studied as an instrument it is consid- 
 ered to be of value chiefly because it provides one means 
 of interpreting the present. Only those situations and 
 facts in the past will be selected for discussion which 
 have close bearing upon the present. They must, of 
 course, be real-ized. They must be built up, but only to a 
 degree sufficient to throw light upon modern institutions 
 and problems. 
 
 Whichever view of history is adopted, a psychological 
 statement of history will warrant us in saying that in both 
 the past and the present there are values to be controlled, 
 and that each generation devised means of securing this 
 control. Hence, in both past and present the race has 
 been busy solving problems, and every situation in history 
 may be viewed as an attempt to solve one or several prob- 
 lems with the data which that particular group of people 
 had at hand. Moreover, many of these problems are com- 
 mon to both past and present. The problem of govern- 
 ment is of this perennial type. Each generation has tried 
 to find a better solution than that of its predecessor and 
 in turn has left its work as a heritage to the generation 
 which followed. In fact, all the great problems of society 
 are continuous, and by following them from their early 
 beginnings we can see how their solutions have been 
 evolved, and how the problems themselves have been modi- 
 fied by changing conditions. By tracing these problems 
 from their fundamental form while keeping constantly in 
 view the present form of the solution, there it little 
 
FUNCTION OF SUBJECT-MATTEE 61 
 
 danger of restricting the function of history to the real- 
 ization of the past, and thereby destroying much good 
 that could be gained from it. 
 
 Pedagogical Applications. — If, when Ave discuss 
 movements and institutions, we view them as solutions of 
 problems, and if we think of each situation in history as 
 having some problem within it, we bring the history more 
 vividly into the lives of pupils than if we view the situa- 
 tions as merely collections of facts. The element of rea- 
 son and judgment then enters to illuminate or vivify the 
 content of memory and imagination. Then we may view 
 the continuity of history as a continuity of these prob- 
 lems, the problem and solution being affected in each sit- 
 uation by the entrance of such new factors as make 
 changes necessary. 
 
 Section 4. Geography. 
 
 Geography helps us to get control of values by relating 
 them to physical environment. When we study the indus- 
 tries of a city, visit its shops and see how the operations 
 are there carried on, we are not necessarily studying geog- 
 raphy. It becomes a geographical study only when we re- 
 late these processes to their physical environment. When 
 we study the races of men scattered over the globe we are 
 not necessarily studying geography. We study geography 
 when we relate the races of men to the physical environ- 
 ment in which they are found, and try to explain their 
 characteristics in terms of that environment. When we 
 study the wealth, commerce, and industries of a country, 
 that in itself does not constitute a study of geography. 
 Such objects of study become geographical only when 
 we seek to explain them in terms of their physical environ- 
 
62 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 ment. And lastly, when we study the products of a coun- 
 try we are not necessarily studying geography. We may 
 be studying botany or economics. The study becomes 
 geography only when we explain these products in terms 
 of such physical environment, as temperature, moisture, 
 etc., which determine their existence. 
 
 Originally the only control which geography gave was 
 that secured by stating ivhere the thing of value was to 
 be found. More recently geography has taken as an addi- 
 tional function that of explaining in terms of physical 
 environment why a thing of value is found in the par- 
 ticular where in which it is located. This, of course, adds 
 materially to our ability to control a value; because, for 
 instance, if we know why it is located in one where we 
 can the more easily find some here in which we might 
 locate it, and thus save time and effort in securing it 
 when we need it. It is well to know that silkworms thrive 
 in France. It is better to know in terms of physical en- 
 vironment why they thrive there, because then we have 
 some hint of the localities in America where they will 
 thrive, or for determining, possibly, that there are no 
 localities in America where they will thrive. We can 
 then, in the one case, select the proper place, and in the 
 other case, avoid wasteful experiment. 
 
 Conclusion. — Enough subjects have been discussed 
 to illustrate the intrinsic functions of the various kinds 
 of subject-matter. More cannot be given because of the 
 limits of space. Students for the first time beginning 
 to study the theory of teaching, are advised to study each 
 subject and determine what specific sort of control it at- 
 tempts to furnish. Just as geography seeks to get control 
 of values by relating them to their physical environment, 
 
FUNCTION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 63 
 
 and history, by relating them to the past, so physics en- 
 deavors to get control by considering them as forms of 
 force and energy, chemistry by viewing them as made up 
 of ultimate (chemical) elements, and art by viewing them 
 from the aesthetic standpoint. And so, in like manner, 
 every other subject performs its own specific, fascinating 
 function. 
 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE STRUCTURE OF SUBJECT-MATTER. 
 
 Definition. — A structure is defined as an organization 
 of parts or elements for the purpose of fulfilling some 
 function. It consists of two factors, parts and the organ- 
 ization of those parts. Both are correlates of function. 
 That is to say, if we consider a unit of subject-matter, 
 as for instance a lead pencil, the parts are lead, encasing 
 wood, and probably rubber. They are not a structure. 
 Organization is necessary that they be such. But both 
 the organization and the parts are mainly dependent upon 
 the function, upon the problem to be solved. Let us sup- 
 pose the function is to carry on the writing process with 
 ease. Evidently the organization and the parts selected 
 must be determined by this end. The lead must be not 
 too soft nor too hard. In one case it would require fre- 
 quent sharpening (not conducive to ease) ; in the other 
 case, the fingers must press too hard and at the expense 
 of ease. Wood is put outside in order to protect the 
 fingers from being discolored, to make the surface large 
 enough to be grasped easily and to keep the brittle graphite 
 from breaking (thus saving trouble). The rubber is at- 
 tached at the end in order to avoid the picking up of an 
 eraser which may easily be lost. 
 
 Parts and Organization. — We are well acquainted 
 with the organization of parts in the "outline." When 
 
 64 
 
STEUCTUEE OF SUBJECT-MATTEE 65 
 
 an outline is made, the purpose is to present in compact 
 form the most important parts of the structure. First 
 comes the statement of the function, sometimes called 
 the "topic.'" And then follows the outline, or structure. 
 The topic is always the solution of some problem or the 
 satisfaction of some need. For instance, the topic "An 
 Ostrich Hunt" is the attempt to solve the problem, "How 
 is the ostrich hunted?" The solution is as follows: 
 
 Because of the ostrich's swiftness many devices have 
 to be used in hunting it. 
 
 (a) In South Africa, they are hunted by horsemen who 
 seek to tire them down. 
 
 (b) The Bushmen build an imitation ostrich upon their 
 shoulders and thus are able to approach close enough to 
 shoot the ostriches with poisoned arrows. 
 
 We meet in arithmetic, also, with the organization of 
 parts to carry out a function. The problem, Find the co=t 
 of constructing out of inch lumber a box 4 ft. long, 2 
 ft. wide and 1 ft. deep, inside measurements, without a 
 top, lumber costing $25.00 a thousand, has the following 
 organization for its solution: 
 
 Area of sides = 2 x 4| x 1 x 1 bd. ft. = 8£ bd. ft. 
 
 Area of ends = 2 x 2 x 1 x 1 bd. ft. = 4 bd. ft. 
 
 Area of bottom = 4£ x 2£ x 1 bd. ft. = 9 3V bd. ft. 
 
 Total = 21 £$bd. ft. 
 1000 bd. ft. cost $25.00. 
 21 |f bd. ft. cost 21 if /1000 of $25.00 = 53c. 
 
 Structure and Logic. — It is a truism that every unit 
 of subject-matter that is well constructed is logical in its 
 construction. This means, first, that every part included 
 
66 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 in the organization must be relevant to the function of 
 the whole. As an example of a poor structure the follow- 
 ing may be cited. A lesson upon The Benefits of Com- 
 merce 1 has the following structure : 
 
 1. It enables us to exchange things we have but do not 
 
 need, for other things which we do need, but do not 
 have. 
 
 (a) Southern cotton growers have more cotton than 
 
 they need, but do not manufacture cloth. The 
 New England States manufacture cotton cloth 
 but do not have the raw cotton. Hence an ex- 
 change is a benefit. 
 
 (b) Tea grows plentifully in China and sugar in the 
 
 West Indies. We do not raise these, but we do 
 raise many things which the Chinese and West 
 Indians do not raise so easily, and so an ex- 
 change is of advantage to both. 
 
 2. Water is very useful for commerce. 
 (a) Cheaper for transportation; 
 
 (1) ships carry larger loads than wagons, 
 
 (2) ships float and therefore require little force to 
 
 move them, 
 
 (3) this is realized as a reason for constructing 
 
 canals. 
 
 3. Eailroads are of use in transporting commercial com- 
 
 modities. 
 
 The first division belongs to this unit. The second and 
 third are irrelevant. They deal with "facilities for trans- 
 portation," or some such question. If the author desired 
 to keep them in his organization, he should have shown 
 how they are benefits flowing from commerce. 
 
 1 "Sander's Third Header," (1853) pp. 87-8. 
 
STRUCTURE OF SUBJECT-MATTER 67 
 
 Second. All the parts most relevant to the function 
 must be included. Here an illustration may be taken from 
 any machine. Suppose in a sewing machine the needle is 
 lacking, then the functioning of the machine will be im- 
 possible. Again, when the problem arises, Shall I buy 
 these curtains for my window? When I organize all the 
 facts and parts I may bring in cost, weight, etc., but leave 
 out the question of harmony of color with the paper in the 
 room. This may invalidate the whole organization. In 
 choosing a business partner I ma}', in thinking it over, 
 consider his honesty, sympathy, physical fitness, etc., and 
 because I fail to think of his lack of aggressiveness the 
 purpose of the partnership may be defeated. 
 
 Third. The structure of the subject-matter to be taught 
 must be viewed as the best solution, most compact, most 
 economical, and most expert that the race has worked out, 
 and that the pupils can use. 1 
 
 Pedagogical Hints. — To help the reader to find the 
 function of any unit of written subject-matter several 
 devices are used by writers. 
 
 First. Frequently it is indicated in the title. "The 
 Benefits of Commerce," "An Ostrich Hunt," "The Origin 
 of Species," "How Valmond Came to Pontiac," "The His- 
 tory of England," etc., all indicate function in a general 
 way. Sometimes, however, little assistance is given by the 
 title. Macbeth, Sandolphin, Lady Clara Vere de Vere, 
 do not indicate in any exact way what is to be the specific 
 function of the selection. 
 
 Second. The introduction to a selection and the topical 
 sentence of a paragraph frequently give specific assistance 
 in finding the function. 
 
 1 See Chapter 15. 
 
68 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Third. Certain devices are used in text-books, such as 
 subject headings and marginal headings. Considerable 
 use of all three of these devices is made throughout this 
 text, as a rapid leafing of the pages will show. 
 
 Fourth. It should be noted that, particularly in liter- 
 ature and music and art, it is sometimes impossible to ade- 
 quately express the function in words. Critics who try to 
 do so do not always agree, and probably the creator of 
 the work could not state its precise function. The thing 
 lie wishes to express may be so large, so indefinable, or 
 so largely a matter of feeling that one statement will not 
 do it justice. Indeed, the fact that literary criticism 
 frowns upon the moral at the end of a poem, and the fact 
 that art critics object to the title's being too specific seem 
 to indicate that it is not always wise to try to state the 
 function even when it might be done. 
 
 Academically this is correct. Practically in dealing with 
 immature children the teacher makes no serious mistake 
 in giving what seems to be the best statement of function, 
 and in then organizing the work of art to show how the 
 function is fulfilled. This course does not mean that he 
 need show the subtleties of technique by which the result 
 was secured, but rather to lay bare the main divisions of 
 content, going into detail as far as the maturity of the 
 students will warrant. Outside of the aesthetic field, there 
 is usually little difficulty and there is no objection to 
 stating the function in concise form. 
 
 Explicit Relations. — In making an outline of the 
 structure, it is well for teachers to make the relation of 
 parts to the central function explicit. It is not always 
 sufficient to merely have the relation in mind. To ensure 
 
STKUCTUEE OF SUBJECT-MATTER 69 
 
 the proper teaching of the relations it is advisable to 
 actually state them. As an illustration the two following 
 forms of outline may be given. Let us suppose that the 
 function of a study of English history is "to show the 
 formation of a popular national government of a repre- 
 sentative character." The outline may be made as follows : 
 
 I. Anglo-Saxon government (to 1066). 
 
 II. Norman and early Plantagenet government 
 (1066-1215). 
 
 III. Later Plantagenet government (1215-1485). 
 
 IV. Tudor government (1485-1603). 
 
 V. Stuart government (1603-1688). 
 
 VI. Modern English government (1688-date). 
 
 Or it may he made in this way : 
 
 Function: To show the formation of a national pop- 
 ular government of a representative character. 
 
 Structure: I. Anglo-Saxon government (to 1066), 
 which shows in the earliest form of the government strong 
 local and weak central institutions. 
 
 II. Norman and Early Plantagenet government (1066- 
 1215), which describes the establishment of a monarchy 
 so strong that it over-rides the local institutions. 
 
 III. Later Plantagenet government (1215-1485), 
 which describes the rise of parliament but its failure to 
 control the monarchy. 
 
 IV. Tudor government (1475-1603), whose signif- 
 icance is that in this period the people acquiesce in a 
 strong monarchy because of commercial and religious in- 
 terests. 
 
70 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 V. Stuart government (1603-1688). This describes 
 the victory of parliament over an absolute monarchy, and 
 the definite establishment of a constitutional monarchy. 
 
 VI. Modern English government (1688 to date), which 
 exemplifies the manner in which a strong central govern- 
 ment is based on strong local institutions. 
 
 A statement of this latter sort made by the teacher will 
 convince him as nothing else will that he has a logical 
 organization. With such a statement he will be in less 
 clanger of going astray in his work from day to day. And 
 this is the more certain if the principle is applied also 
 to divisions subsidiary to these main divisions. Here the 
 same procedure should be followed. The relation of the 
 central theme should be stated clearly. Suppose we choose 
 any one of the divisions stated above and make an outline 
 for it. 
 
 IV. The Stuart Government. 
 
 Function: To show how absolutism was over-thrown 
 and a constitutional government was definitely estab- 
 lished by the people of England (as one of the steps 
 by which a strong national government of representa- 
 tive character was established). 
 
 Structure : 
 
 1. The Crown and Parliament (1603-1640). Its 
 significance is that it throws into strong relief the op- 
 position between the royal prerogative and constitu- 
 tional power. 
 
 2. The Privy Council. This exemplifies a method 
 by which the executive tried to make itself stronger 
 than parliament. 
 
 3. The Constitutional Revolution (1640-1649). 
 
STEUCTUEE OF SUBJECT-MATTEE 71 
 
 This is the violent demonstration by parliament of 
 its right to control the monarclry. 
 
 4. The Military Despotism (1649-1660). Its sig- 
 nificance is that in the throes of readjustment the 
 parliament was supplanted by a military despotism. 
 
 5. The Restoration Government (1660-1668). 
 This exemplifies the unwilling compliance of the mon- 
 archy to constitutional forms. 
 
 5. The Restoration Government (16604688). 
 
 This shows the successful and permanent assertion by 
 
 the people of their right to constitutional government. 
 
 Such a statement as this, in so far as it is explicitly 
 a statement of the bearing of each sub-head upon the func- 
 tion of the large division and upon the function of the 
 whole organization, will, as said above, help the teacher 
 to get the proper perspective. It will keep him from in- 
 troducing irrelevant material, and from emphasizing un- 
 important points in the history. 
 
 Relativity of Function and Structure. — The struc- 
 ture varies with the function. For instance, if we make 
 the function of American history the portrayal of deeds 
 of heroism, we would naturally organize a structure upon 
 that basis. We would select all the deeds of heroism and 
 would neglect other facts. But, if the function is made 
 that of showing the organization of independent local gov- 
 ernments into a strong federal government, we would select 
 our facts from a different basis. Many of the facts that 
 would be used in the former case would be omitted in the 
 latter case; many others would be added, and each would 
 have an emphasis placed upon it in harmony with the 
 function. 
 
72 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 On the other hand the function is dependent upon the 
 structure. For instance, in American history we cannot 
 make the function that of showing the growth of Oriental 
 despotism, because the facts cannot fulfill that function. 
 And likewise, it is a sad wrenching of the structure to 
 make the study of literature that of exemplifying rules 
 of grammar. The poem was not intended for that; the 
 structure will not bear such a function without destroying 
 itself. Again, we cannot use a feather to drive nails. 
 The feather can be made to serve only those functions 
 which are consonant with its structure. 
 
 Units of Subject-Matter. — The term "unit" is used 
 in connection with subject-matter to indicate a relatively 
 distinct portion of a subject. We speak of each unit of 
 subject-matter as being an instrument designed for a 
 specific purpose. But the difficulty is that the term may 
 be applied in such a way as to lead to confusion. For 
 instance, in the illustration in English history given above, 
 we have six units in the whole. But we may also use 
 the term in describing the sub-divisions under IV, and 
 state that these are six units. 
 
 Large Units. — "We cannot speak of the smaller units 
 as recitations, because frequently two or three recitations 
 may be occupied in the study of one unit. Hence prob- 
 ably the best we can do is to use the term "large unit" 
 for these larger divisions, and the term "unit" for the 
 smallest units that are taken up as relatively complete and 
 distinct divisions. In the subject just referred to we may 
 then say that there are six large units, and six units in 
 the fourth large unit. But at best the terms are relative. 
 
 Units and Recitations. — Usually one recitation is 
 
STEUCTUEE OF SUBJECT-MATTEE 73 
 
 taken up with one unit. Frequently several recitations 
 are needed to get control of one unit. Sometimes two 
 units or more may be taken up in one recitation. No rule 
 can be laid down as to the amount of subject-matter to be 
 covered in a recitation, unless the one who makes the 
 rule knows the class and the subject-matter. 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 EXAMPLES OF FUNCTION AND STRUCTURE. 
 
 Section 1. Every Unit of Subject-Matter Has a Function 
 Which Its Structure Is Organized to Perform. 
 
 Hygiene. — "And now, what becomes of this breath 
 which passes from your lips? Is it merely harmful; 
 merely waste ? God forbid ! God has forbidden that any- 
 thing should be merely harmful or merely waste in this 
 so wise and well-made world. The carbonic acid which 
 passes from your lips at every breath — ay, even that which 
 oozes from the volcano crater when the eruption is past — 
 is a precious boon to thousands of things of which you 
 have daily need. Indeed there is a sort of hint at physical 
 truth in the old fairy tale of the girl, from whose lips, 
 as she spoke, fell pearls and diamonds; for the carbonic 
 acid of your breath may help hereafter to make the pure 
 carbonate of lime of a pearl, or the still purer carbon of 
 a diamond. Nay, it may go — in such a world of trans- 
 formation do we live — to make atoms of coal strata, which 
 shall lie buried for ages beneath deep seas, shall be up- 
 heaved in continents which are yet unborn and there be 
 burnt for the use of a future race of men, and resolved 
 in their original elements." — Charles Kingsley. 
 
 Function: The function of this subject-matter is to 
 answer the question, Is breath exhaled merely waste? 
 74 
 
FUNCTION AND STRUCTURE 75 
 
 Structure: The answer is, No. The reasons for it are 
 the following : 
 
 1. The general one, that it is not according to the econ- 
 omy of God's laws. 
 
 2. That it is a boon to nature. This is illustrated by 
 stating that it may produce: 
 
 (a) vegetation, 
 
 (b) pearls, 
 
 (c) diamonds. 
 
 (d) coal. 
 
 Literature. — From Cymbeline, by Shakespeare. 
 "Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, 
 And Phoebus 'gins arise, 
 His steeds to water at those springs 
 
 On chalic'd flowers that lies; 
 And winking Mary-buds begin 
 
 To ope their golden eyes; 
 With everything that pretty is, 
 My lady sweet, arise; 
 Arise, arise !" 
 
 Function: To portray the state of mind of a lover in 
 his effort to awaken his lady-love. 
 
 Structure : This may be analyzed as follows : 
 1. The intellectual content is expressed in his argu- 
 ments. He calls her to awaken because: 
 
 (a) the lark is singing, 
 
 (b) the sun is rising, 
 
 (c) the flowers are opening, 
 
 (d) everything that is pretty is rising, 
 
 (e) it is time, therefore, for you to arise. 
 
76 A1ETH0DS OF TEACHING 
 
 2. The emotional quality is expressed as follows : 
 
 (a) The stimulating beauty and the joyousness of 
 the morning, as felt by the lover, is expressed by : 
 
 i. The magnificent imagerv in which his argu- 
 ments are clothed; 
 ii. The exhilarating rhythm. 
 
 (b) His love for his lady is suggested in: 
 i. "With everything that pretty is," 
 
 ii. "My lady sweet/' 
 
 3. The keenness of his desire is shown by the use of 
 
 the staccato calls : 
 
 (a) "Hark, hark!" 
 
 (b) "Arise, arise !" 
 
 Function and Structure in Arithmetic. — Arithmetic 
 affords an excellent example of units of subject-matter 
 which have a very definite function and a very definite 
 structure. For instance, if we start with the function of 
 arithmetic, and state it to be the providing of methods for 
 measuring quantity, we can at once see how the different 
 processes assist in fulfilling this function. For example, 
 the function of addition is to provide a means for securing 
 the sum of like quantities. The function of multiplica- 
 tion is to provide a short method of adding, and the func- 
 tion of the multiplication table is to facilitate the process 
 of learning the multiplication facts. The function of frac- 
 tions is to provide a means of computing quantities whose 
 unit is less than 1 ; and among these we have decimals 
 with the function of providing a peculiar and easy method 
 of handling all fractions having as denominator 10 or a 
 power of 10. In the same category come denominate num- 
 bers whose function is that of providing a method of 
 handling quantities whose units are what are technically 
 
FUNCTION AND STRUCTURE 77 
 
 known as "measures." Similarly, percentage has as its 
 function the manipulation of certain quantities which can 
 be handled most easily by computing them in terms of 
 100. A promissory note has for its function the recording 
 definitely in writing of a promise to pay. Interest has 
 as its function the computing of the amount to be paid 
 for the sum borrowed. In the same way each of the 
 processes of arithmetic may be shown to be a tool whose 
 function, or purpose, or use is to help in the computation 
 of arithmetical quantities. 
 
 Furthermore, each of these processes has a structure., 
 that is, a way of working which helps to carry out its 
 function. If we examine addition Ave find that we have 
 integers and decimal notation to carry it out. Multipli- 
 cation is constructed with its integers, its decimal nota- 
 tion, and its dependence upon memory for the sums of 
 certain like quantities, by which it performs efficiently its 
 work of shortening addition. Likewise, the promissory 
 note has many ways of safe-guarding the transaction of 
 borrowing mone}% such as the date and time to run, the 
 rate of interest, the amount written in words as well as 
 figures to avoid error, and the signature of the borrower. 
 These which make up the structure of the promissory note 
 all help to make it a safe method of recording financial 
 transactions. 
 
 And so with every process. The function being de- 
 termined, the structure follows freely. The teacher should 
 take every process in arithmetic and view it in this func- 
 tional way, so that each will be viewed as an instrument 
 which has its own peculiar value in certain surroundings. 
 For, just as the tack hammer can do certain work better 
 than the carpenter's hammer, so the carpenter's hammer 
 
78 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 can do better work in some conditions than the trip ham- 
 mer. Each of the processes of arithmetic has its own 
 peculiar field to work in, a field in which it is of most 
 service and most easily applicable. Each process is a tool 
 just as much as a hammer is a tool. And further, just 
 as the tack hammer has one kind of structure because its 
 function is to drive tacks, while the trip hammer has an- 
 other structure because its function is to crush steel, so it 
 is with each process in arithmetic. Each has its own way 
 of acting, its own structure which has been built up by the 
 race wich infinite care to perform the work for which it 
 was created. 
 
 Spelling. — 
 
 rare worthless willing 
 
 exit disperse rejoicing 
 
 plenty sullen separate 
 
 advance miser money 
 
 Function: To provide an exact form by which to sym- 
 bolize each idea. 
 
 Structure: These words are built up by the organiza- 
 tion of letters which unfortunately do not follow any 
 logical order. Their structure has been determined 
 by convention, and has to be accepted as it is. The 
 structure consists in the order of the letters. 
 
 believe receive reprieve 
 
 grieve achieve sieve 
 
 conceive retrieve sleigh 
 
 feign deceive neigh 
 
 Function: The same as in the preceding group. 
 Structure: The structure of the words follows a def- 
 
FUNCTION AND STRUCTURE 79 
 
 inite rule (with exceptions) with regard to the use 
 of the i and the e. That is to say, the order of the 
 i and the e is determined by the following rule : "i 
 before e, except after c, or when pronounced like a, 
 as in neighbor, and weigh." 
 
 Section 2. In the Organization of New Subject-Matter the 
 
 Function Is First Determined and the Structure 
 
 Is Built Up to Perform the Function. 
 
 English History. — It is of course clear that the 
 method of organizing units of subject-matter de novo 
 should be the same as those which have been found in 
 subject-matter already effectively organized, and illustra- 
 tions of how this may be applied to history and theme- 
 writing will be sufficient. In the first place the function 
 of the whole course is decided upon. Let us suppose 
 that in English history we wish to make the subject-mat- 
 ter serve the function, inadequate though it be, of showing 
 the rise in governmental power of the common people of 
 England. When we proceed to organize our subject-mat- 
 ter we have a well-defined line to which to hew. There 
 is a vast array or accumulation of facts which are of in- 
 terest, some for one purpose, some for another. But we 
 may choose only those events which had an influence upon 
 the rise of the common people in governmental power. 
 We can, for instance, determine to what extent and from 
 what standpoint to study the wars of England. For ex- 
 ample, we would be concerned very little with the battles 
 of the Hundred Years War, but would lay great stress 
 upon the effects of the war in modifying the political 
 power of the common people. We could profitably omit 
 all the Wars of the Roses except the decisive battles, and 
 
80 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 would retain those only as fitting centers around which to 
 collect the political influences of the wars. 
 
 We can also determine the characters in English his- 
 tory upon which to lay most stress. The character of 
 Simon de Montfort might receive more attention than 
 that of Piers Gaveston. We are able, too, to determine the 
 elements of the characters of the different sovereigns upon 
 which to lay stress; for instance, those characteristics of 
 King John which most angered his people would be most 
 important, those characteristics of Richard I which enabled 
 his people to gain more power would be significant ones, 
 and those characteristics of Charles I which made the peo- 
 ple restive under his authority should be selected. We 
 see why certain periods should be emphasized and other 
 periods treated briefly. For example, the period from 
 449 to 900 A. D., the reigns of Henry I, of Henry II, and 
 of John, the Stuart period, and the period immediately 
 preceding and succeeding 1832, should be treated fully 
 in their political aspects. On the other hand, the Yorkist 
 and the Tudor periods should receive relatively less at- 
 tention. 
 
 The teacher then knows, and the children know, that 
 their reason for studying the tenth lesson, or the twenty- 
 fifth lesson, or any lesson, is to see how the growth in 
 political power of the common people was affected by the 
 events portrayed in that particular unit. And the pupils 
 at the end of their study of English history should have 
 their subject-matter organized in such a way that they can 
 trace the development of this power from 449 A. D. to the 
 present time, and state the conditions which have influ- 
 enced the development, step by step. 
 
FUNCTION AND STRUCTURE 81 
 
 Two things may be said in relation to the foregoing 
 treatment of English history. (1) It is not necessary for 
 us to assume that this is the best function that English 
 history can serve. The points are these : the function must 
 be determined, whatever it may be; and the teacher and 
 pupils should have that objective point before them con- 
 tinually. (2) In so far as there are other facts in English 
 history which may be of value but which have yet had no 
 appreciable effect upon the determined function, they 
 should be introduced, but they should be recognized as 
 being incidental and relatively isolated from the trunk line 
 of study. 
 
 Theme- Writing. — In writing a paper upon any topic 
 the first step is to determine the problem which the paper 
 intends to solve, or stating it in terms of subject-matter, 
 the function of the subject-matter which is about to be 
 organized. Then the pupil has to think out the main 
 arguments or steps that he will use in solving this prob- 
 lem, and these will form the skeleton of the paper. Then 
 each of these main arguments must be studied in detail 
 to get facts to support it. Thus a more detailed outline 
 for the paper is obtained and the paper will be completed 
 by connecting the arguments and massing the details in 
 appropriate language. Here, again, the function is of 
 supreme value. It gives the standpoint from Avhich to 
 select subject-matter, and indicates the standard by which 
 to judge the logical quality of the paper ; for the function 
 will check up every point, even to the minor ones, since 
 anything irrelevant to it must be excluded, and everything 
 that is relevant and reasonably within the experience of 
 the pupil is expected to be inserted. 
 
82 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Section 3. The Same General Subject-Matter May Have 
 
 Different Functions with Correspondingly 
 
 Different Organizations. 
 
 Arithmetic. — The principle which is stated at the 
 head of this section may be illustrated as follows : If we 
 take the Fodder Tables and the Tables of Nutriment for a 
 Day's Feeding and select a few facts, it is an easy matter 
 to show how these may have different organizations when 
 fulfilling different functions. 
 
 Dry Pro- Carbohy- 
 
 Fodder. Pounds. Matter. tein. drates, etc. 
 
 Corn stover 10 5.95 .17 3.24 
 
 Clover hay 10 8.5 .71 4.2 
 
 Corn meal 1 .85 .063 .71 
 
 Cottonseed meal 1 .9 .45 .4 
 
 Wheat bran 6 5.1 .38 4.3 
 
 These figures refer to the constituent food products 
 selected. For instance, 10 lbs. of clover hay contains 8.5 
 lbs. of dry matter and in the dry matter is found 71 lbs. 
 of protein and 4.2 lbs. of carbo-hydrates, etc. 
 
 It is known, further, that (a) a milch cow weighing 
 1,000 lbs. and producing 22 lbs. of milk per day requires 
 29 lbs. of dry matter, including 2.5 lbs. of protein and 
 13 lbs. of carbo-hydrates per day, and (b) beef cattle from 
 18 to 24 months old, weighing 950 lbs., require per day 
 22.8 lbs. of dry matter, including 1.71 lbs. of protein and 
 11.4 lbs. of carbo-hydrates. 
 
 These seven facts may be organized differently, some 
 being used in one proportion and some in another, some 
 being omitted and some being utilized. For instance, if 
 we wish to make a balanced ration for each of the kinds 
 
FUNCTION AND STRUCTUEE 83 
 
 of cattle mentioned we may have different organizations, 
 organized as follows: Function: To make a ration for 
 the milch cow referred to above. 
 Structure : 
 
 Dry Pro- Carbohy- 
 
 Fodder. Pounds. Matter. tein. drates, etc. 
 
 Clover hay 10 8.5 .71 4.2 
 
 Corn stover 10 5.95 .17 3.24 
 
 Corn meal 4 3.4 .26 2.86 
 
 Wheat bran 5 4.4 .6 2.40 
 
 Cottonseed meal 2 1.8 .9 .8 
 
 Total 31 24.05 2.64 13.5 
 
 Standard 29 2.5 13 
 
 This provides a satisfactory balance of ration (slightly 
 light in bulk). It is, therefore, an organization that ful- 
 fills its function. 
 
 For the second kind of cattle another organization of 
 the fodder constituents is possible, as f ollows : 
 
 Function : To make a ration for the beef cattle referred 
 to above. 
 Structure: 
 
 Dry Pro- Carbohy- 
 
 Fodder. Pounds. Matter. tein. drates, etc. 
 
 Corn meal 8 6.8 .48 5.7 
 
 Cottonseed meal 1 .9 .45 .4 
 
 Clover hay 10 8.5 .71 4.2 
 
 Corn stover 5 2.97 .08 1.62 
 
 Total 24 19.17 1.72 11.92 
 
 Standard 22.8 1.71 11.4 
 
 This slightly different organization is made by the selec- 
 tion of another function to be fulfilled. 
 
 Geography. — Suppose we take the following problem : 
 What are the effects of the motions of the earth relative to 
 
84 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 the sun? In a general way, the subject-matter organized 
 to answer this question may be considered to be composed 
 of three facts : ( 1 ) the earth revolves around the sun in 
 the plane of its orbit, once a year; (2) it revolves on its 
 own axis once a day; (3) the axis of the earth is inclined 
 23^° from the perpendicular to the plane of the orbit. 
 
 Now, this subject-matter may be made to serve two 
 purposes, among others. 
 
 (1) Function: To explain the seasons. 
 
 Structure: If we take any point upon the earth's 
 surface it is evident that in the revolution of 
 the earth around the sun there will be one time 
 in the year when the rays of the sun are more 
 nearly perpendicular to that point than at any 
 other time. The sun's rays are most effective 
 when they are perpendicular, and this gives 
 rise to summer. At another time of the year 
 when the earth is at the other extreme of the 
 orbit, the rays fall most obliquely on that same 
 point. Under these circumstances the heat rays 
 are less effective, and this gives rise to winter. 
 There are two periods during which the sun's 
 rays are inclined at angles half way between 
 these two extremes. The one of these that fol- 
 lows summer is fall, which is warmer than 
 winter and colder than summer, and the other 
 is spring, which is also warmer than winter 
 and colder than summer. 
 
 (2) Function: To explain the fact that the days are 
 
 longer in summer than in winter. 
 
FUNCTION AND STKUCTUEE 85 
 
 Structure: Consider any point in the northern 
 hemisphere. In summer the sun's rays reach 
 beyond the north pole, and will cover more than 
 half the northern hemisphere. As the point 
 revolves around the earth's axis, it will be in 
 the sunlight more than one-half the time. 
 Hence the days will be longer than the nights. 
 
 In these examples the three facts that were stated at 
 the beginning, when amplified and illustrated sufficiently 
 as in text-books on geography, usually contain the facts 
 stated in the solution of the two problems. The point to 
 be emphasized is that we ma}', if we so desire, take the 
 organization of subject-matter made to fulfill an encyclo- 
 pedic purpose and approach it from different standpoints, 
 as in the instances just given. And a different organiza- 
 tion of the original subject-matter will result as each of 
 these different problems is successively in mind. In such 
 cases we get a new organization by laying emphasis upon 
 certain of the facts and subordinating the other facts 
 found within the larger organization. 
 
 Literature. — The different functions that a selection 
 in literature may serve are very well exemplified by the 
 well known poem, Excelsior. From one standpoint, the 
 function may be to illustrate .the persistence of an ideal ; 
 from another standpoint, and this the standpoint of young 
 children, it may be that of portraying the adventures of 
 a remarkable youth. Upon the first basis we are fortunate 
 in having Longfellow's 1 own statement of the purpose 
 of the poem. (The author's statement is indicated by 
 quotation marks.) 
 
 "Longfellow's "Poetical Works," Vol. 1, pp. 79 and 80, 
 Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 1892 edition. 
 
86 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 (1) Function: "I have had the pleasure of receiving 
 
 your note in regard to the poem, Excelsior, and 
 very willingly give you my intention in writing 
 it. This was no more than to display, in a 
 series of pictures, the life of a man of genius, 
 resisting all temptations, laying aside all fears, 
 heedless of all warnings, and pressing right on 
 to accomplish his purpose. 
 
 Structure: "His motto was 'excelsior' — and 
 'higher.' He passes through the Alpine village 
 — through the rough, cold paths of the world — 
 where the peasants cannot understand him and 
 where his watch-word is an 'unknown tongue.' 
 He disregards the happiness of domestic peace 
 and sees the glaciers — his fate — before him. 
 He disregards the warnings of the old man's 
 wisdom and the fascinations of woman's love. 
 He answers to all, 'Higher yet.' The monks 
 of St. Bernard are the representations of relig- 
 ious forms and ceremonies, and with their oft- 
 repeated prayer mingles the sound of his voice, 
 telling them there is something higher than 
 forms and ceremonies. Filled with these 
 aspirations he perishes, without having reached 
 the perfection he longed for; and the voice 
 heard in the air is the promise of immortality 
 and progress ever upward." 
 
 The analysis from the second standpoint might proceed 
 somewhat as follows : 
 
 (2) Function: To describe the adventures of a lonely, 
 
 peculiar youth in climbing an Alpine mountain. 
 
FUNCTION AND STRUCTURE 87 
 
 Structure: 1. Stanzas 1 and 2 show his loneli- 
 ness by the terms 'strange device' and 'unknown 
 tongue/ and his peculiarity is shown by his 
 carrying a banner, his sad brow, and his flash- 
 ing eyes. 
 
 2. Stanzas 3 to 9 tell of his adventures. 
 
 (a) Stanza 3 — he passes homes, and his lone- 
 liness and peculiarity are shown by the fact 
 that he sees the comforts of homes, but even 
 though he is so lonely that he groans, he 
 passes them by. 
 
 (b) Stanza 4 — he meets an old man, and 
 again his peculiarity is shown in his paying 
 no attention to the dangers ahead. 
 
 (c) Stanza 5 — he meets a maiden; again his 
 loneliness is shown by the tears that come 
 to his eyes, and his peculiarity by his still 
 pressing on though with a sigh. 
 
 (d) Stanza 6 — late at night he meets a peasant 
 who warns him of other dangers. His 
 peculiarity is shown again in his still press- 
 ing on. 
 
 (e) Stanza 7 — shows him in the morning 
 away up the mountain side; his loneliness 
 is shown again by the expression, 'the 
 startled air.' 
 
 (f) Stanza 8 — depicts him as finally dying, 
 alone, frozen, and his peculiarity is further 
 shown by his still grasping the banner in 
 his hand of ice. 
 
 (g) Stanza 9 — again shows the strangeness 
 of the youth in that, as he lay there, a 
 
88 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 strange event occurs, "that from the sky a 
 voice fell like a falling star, Excelsior." 
 It is undoubtedly true that many children who read the 
 poem, Excelsior, appreciate only this latter rather meager 
 function. But waiving the question of the advisability of 
 teaching the poem to children who get nothing more than 
 this out of it, it furnishes a good illustration of how 
 literature may serve some other function than that which 
 the author primarily intended. 1 Oftentimes in the expo- 
 sition of his deeper meaning he uses illustration and 
 allegory which to the discerning mind are seen to be 
 merely the vehicles of his meaning, but which to one not 
 so discerning become the whole content of the idea. An 
 excellent example of this allegorical presentation of mean- 
 ing is furnished by Bunyan in "Pilgrim's Progress." 
 1 See Chapter 3. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 THE TEACHING OF SUBJECT-MATTER. 
 
 Section 1. The Peculiar Problem of Teaching. 
 
 What has been said up to this point concerning subject- 
 matter has had only an indirect bearing upon the problems 
 of teaching. To every person, whether he is to be a 
 teacher or not, there exists both function and structure 
 of subject-matter as it has been described. We have been 
 considering these almost entirely apart from their ped- 
 agogical relations; at this point it becomes necessary to 
 consider their bearing upon the problems of teaching. 
 
 We teach when we transfer our ways of doing things 
 over into the experience of some one else. In other 
 words, the teacher must not only know how to do things, 
 but must also know the content of the experience of the 
 one taught. The distinction between doing and teaching 
 is at once evident. For instance, when the housewife 
 proceeds to teach an untrained servant how to make bread, 
 the process of teaching differs from the process of bread- 
 making in that the housewife, as teacher, has to trans- 
 late what she does into the terms of the experience of the 
 one taught. We say ordinarily that she has to make the 
 servant understand. But this means that the making of 
 bread has to be stated in terms of what the learner already 
 knows, 
 
 89 
 
90 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Difficulties. — That this is sometimes a difficult thing 
 to do becomes evident when, in terms of the foregoing 
 illustration, we think of the mistress endeavoring to teach 
 an untrained domestic. The domestic either has very 
 little content of experience, i. e., is ignorant, or she is so 
 different from the mistress that the latter cannot get 
 an understanding of what she really does know and think. 
 To illustrate further, take the case of the specialist in 
 science who endeavors to teach. He may be able to solve 
 the problems of his laboratory with the greatest skill 
 possible, but that does not necessarily mean that he can 
 teach his methods with equal success, for the new element 
 enters, viz., that of translating his methods over into the 
 content of the mind of the learner. 
 
 It must be acknowledged that with many people who 
 teach, the real problem of teaching does not arise. That 
 is to say, they merely state the process by which they 
 arrive at conclusions, if the problem is an intellectual one; 
 or merely perform their methods, if the problem is a 
 manual one, and make no effort to translate the thing 
 they are doing into the experience of the learner. In this 
 case one of the three results follows. The learner may not 
 at all grasp the teacher's method of doing things. Or, 
 he may grasp it at once because the content of his experi- 
 ence is like that of the teacher. Or, after a process of 
 hit-and-miss understanding, he may finally come to a 
 point where his content is sufficiently like the teacher's 
 to enable him to understand the teacher's methods. The 
 teacher remains in his own world, and to the pupil is 
 relegated the duty of coming into that world. 
 
 This explains why the teacher who as a student was 
 quick or brilliant is frequently less successful in the be- 
 
FUNCTION AND STRUCTURE 91 
 
 ginning of his professional career than is his companion 
 to whom learning was a much more difficult process. The 
 latter is nearer to and better understands the content and 
 ability of the minds of his pupils. This also explains 
 why the teacher with intellectual and emotional sympathy 
 has an advantage over the teacher who cannot appreciate 
 the standpoint of other people. The former has the habit 
 of feeling with the pupil, the latter has the habit of living 
 within his own world. Some teachers are born with an 
 intuitive feeling for the standpoint of children, others 
 have to achieve it by laborious effort, and still others fail 
 to attain it. 
 
 Differences Between Teacher and Pupil.— That there 
 is a wide difference between the content of the experience 
 of teachers and pupils is undisputed. The studies of G. 
 Stanley Hall 1 reveal very clearly the tremendous gap be- 
 tween the adult mind and that of the child entering school. 
 They show, also, the great difference in the content of the 
 minds of children reared in urban and in rural communi- 
 ties. The same fact will be impressed upon any teacher 
 who will take the pains to have answered by the pupils 
 beginning the. study of any subject twenty-five questions 
 about facts which the child will be expected to learn in 
 the course. 
 
 Eecently the writer asked a few questions of students 
 in the high school who. were about to begin the study of 
 physical geography. Out of 41 pupils answering, 16 did 
 not have any clear idea of longitude; 9 did not know 
 where water vapor comes from ; 9 did not know which 
 is the east side of the map; 21 thought the sun goes on 
 
 1 ' ' The Contents of Children 's Minds on Entering School, ' ' Ped. 
 Sem., Vol. 1, pp. 179, et seq. 
 
92 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 the other side of the earth at night; 19 did not know 
 what is meant by the axis of the earth, one stating that 
 it is the imaginary frame upon which the earth turns; 
 10 did not know of what coal is made; 13 did not know 
 that thunder and lightning occur together, one of these 
 believing that "thunder comes first before lightning as a 
 warning, for lightning does the harm" ; and 29 knew of 
 no relationship between the tides and the moon. This is 
 all the more surprising because all these facts had been 
 studied in the grades, and the pupils averaged in age 
 about 17 years. 
 
 Stories about children, also, emphasize this difference 
 between the standpoint of children and of adults. The 
 adult has been living so long in his own world and think- 
 ing so little about the child world, that children's ways 
 of viewing things are intelligible to him only after definite 
 effort to recall and understand them. The proverbial 
 mistakes of children in examinations, which constitute the 
 stock jokes of examiners, emphasize this difference. 
 Supervisors of practice teaching will support the state- 
 ment that one of the most persistent weaknesses of prac- 
 tice teachers is that they take too much for granted, and 
 any supervisor can recall multitudes of instances in which 
 the practice teacher will excuse himself by saying, "Why, 
 I thought that anybody would know that." 
 
 Necessity of Sympathy. — That there is need for both 
 
 emotional and intellectual sympathy with the pupil is 
 incontrovertible. We have seen that knowledge grows by 
 the reorganizing of experiences. Teaching is not a 
 pouring-in process. Facts cannot be hypodermically in- 
 jected. The teacher may think that he has performed 
 such an operation, but he may rest assured that no matter 
 
FUNCTION AND STRUCTURE 93 
 
 w! at the fact means to him, its meaning to the pupil is 
 determined by the facts which he already possesses, and 
 by the relations which the new fact sets up with what he 
 already knows. Even when the teacher thinks that he 
 has translated his subject-matter into terms of the child's 
 experience, he may find that a different meaning from 
 that intended has been given. This calls to mind the case 
 of the teacher who laboriously endeavored to make clear 
 the nature of a volcano by building up a cone of sand 
 upon the sand table, and having made it realistic by 
 lighting some decapitated firecrackers in an aperture at 
 the top, rested content with his illustration. His feeling 
 of complete defeat may be imagined when the next day 
 one of his little boys said, "Please, teacher, may we have 
 some more of the fireworks to-day ?" 
 
 The concept of apperception emphasizes this same fact. 
 Whatever may be its shortcomings, it has succeeded 
 admirably in showing us that new ideas are interpreted 
 in terms of old, that nothing absolutely new can be added 
 to experience like potatoes to a bin, but that each idea 
 apprehended must be apprehended in terms of what is 
 already present, even though on that account wrongly 
 apprehended. For a good little monograph on this sub- 
 ject, read Eooper's Pot of Green Feathers. 
 
 This necessity is further emphasized when we reflect 
 that the inexperienced teacher is farther removed from 
 the child's standpoint than is the average individual. The 
 teacher is highly intellectualized ; he is a student of books; 
 he has the habit of analyzing his ways of thinking and 
 acting, and of performing this analysis in a highly ab- 
 stract way. His vocabulary is generally literary and 
 scientific; his world is scholarly. The average individual. 
 
94 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 on the other hand, is concrete in his thinking, he has an 
 unscientific vocabulary, he thinks in empirical terms. The 
 teacher, therefore, must make greater deliberate effort to 
 get on the level of his pupils than would the average 
 individual. He must at times deliberately step out of his 
 own world and enter that of the child if the latter is to 
 be led back with him into his larger world. 
 
 What we have been saying applies to the teaching 
 process in general. The preacher who teaches religious 
 truths, the political campaigner who convinces his audi- 
 ences, the father who explains facts and principles to his 
 child, the merchant who shows the new clerk what to do, 
 the musician who touches the hearts of the people, all 
 must translate the thing they wish to teach over into the 
 experience of those whom they are trying to teach. 
 
 Another Function of Teaching. — The school as a 
 specialized agency of instruction performs another task. 
 Not only does it translate experience, but it also makes 
 selections from the multitude of experiences worthy and 
 capable of being translated. That is to say, it picks out 
 the great typical experiences of the race, the important 
 problems which the race is working upon and is attempt- 
 ing to solve, and presents these to the pupils in their 
 simplest and therefore most usable and effective form. 
 For example, from all the mass of grammatical rules it 
 selects the fundamental principles, and, freeing them from 
 their detail, gives them in their simplest form to the 
 children for assimilation. 
 
 In conclusion, we may say that the peculiar problem of 
 teaching is that of translating our ways of thinking and 
 acting over into the experience of children, so that what 
 they may think and act in a similar or a better way. 
 
TEACHING OF SUBJECT-MATTEK 95 
 
 Section 2. Aids to the Solution of the Problem of Teaching. 
 
 The query now arises, What has the theory of teaching 
 to offer as an aid in securing a knowledge of the experi- 
 ences of pupils? To what sources may the teacher turn 
 in order to get an understanding of the content of chil- 
 dren's minds? 
 
 Introspection. — In spite of the wide gap between the 
 experience of the adult teacher and that of the child, the 
 most fruitful source to which the teacher can turn is his 
 own experience. When the teacher is trying to foresee 
 the difficulties that the child will meet in grasping the 
 problem upon which he is bent, and to forearm himself 
 with methods for removing those difficulties, he is forced 
 in the last analysis to consider what he himself finds to 
 be the difficulties. If he is to teach problems in arithmetic 
 he studies them with a view to finding out what are the 
 crucial points — the points that are likely to give difficulty 
 to the pupils; and in doing this he has no other recourse 
 than to his own experience, unless it be to the recollection 
 of the difficulties that former pupils have had. And again, 
 in determining the best way of explaining the difficulties 
 to the children from among various methods which may 
 suggest themselves, he makes choice according to standards 
 of clearness and simplicity as set up by his own mind. 
 
 This, of course, implies that in his introspection he 
 imagines himself, as well as he can, to be in the pupil's 
 place, with the pupil's standpoint and degree of develop- 
 ment. In other words, in this introspection he examines 
 his child self rather than his adult self. 
 
 The same principle applies in discipline. When the 
 teacher has a problem in discipline, and is seeking for the 
 
96 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 best way of handling it, he again appeals to his own ex- 
 perience, and particularly to his child self. He considers 
 the question, — Does this plan that I am about to follow 
 appeal to me as fair? Would it have helped me into the 
 proper attitude toward some one in authority over me 
 Avhen I was a child? Would it have produced the proper 
 results upon me if tried by some one else ? In other words, 
 the value of sympathy to the teacher is essentially that of 
 being able to make his experience congruous with the 
 pupil's, in order that by introspection he may decide what, 
 to his congruous experience, seems the most satisfactory 
 thing to do. This ability to vividly recall childhood in 
 all its phases and sentiments and little judgments i3 
 admirably presented in the early part of "David Copper- 
 field." 
 
 Psychology. — Another aid which has been overrated 
 
 by some and underrated by others is psychology. This 
 subject aids the teacher because it gives a scientific account 
 of the ways in which experience operates in securing 
 efficiency. It is important because it is scientific. It aids 
 untrained introspection by helping it to see the great and 
 fundamental processes that operate in experience. A 
 teacher is unwise if he pays no attention to it, because 
 it is clearly evident from the long history of psychology 
 that no one man, even of commanding intellect, is able 
 unaided to discover all these processes. A great army of 
 men have spent their lives investigating these things and 
 giving a scientific account of them. And no teacher with 
 the multitudinous duties of the school room to hamper 
 him, is able to get without help as clear a conception of 
 the working of the mind as he can get by utilizing the 
 fruit of their labors. If he does not use it, it is as though 
 
 
TEACHING OF SUBJECT-MATTER 97 
 
 he kept his capital idle instead of investing it. More- 
 over, psychology will give him certainty that he is not 
 setting up artificial aims, and that he is not using inef- 
 fectual and perverting methods. 
 
 Psychology has three fields which are of value to the 
 teacher. First, general psychology, which treats of the 
 mental processes of the normal adult; second, educational 
 psychology, which applies the principles of other branches 
 of psychology to educational problems; and third, genetic 
 psychology, which treats of the groAvth of the content and 
 processes of experience. The chief merit of genetic 
 psychology is that it emphasizes the fact that at different 
 ages the child has a different content of experience, is 
 dominated by different interests, and possesses varying 
 fineness and persistence of activity. 
 
 Theory of Method. — Another aid in solving the prob- 
 lems of teaching is found in a study of the methods of 
 teaching. Essentially, a study of teaching is reflection 
 upon the way that subject-matter grows and organizes 
 itself. It differs from psychology in that, while psychology 
 treats of the child in terms of the processes of experience, 
 such as memory, imagination, etc., methods of teaching- 
 deal with the ways in which the child gets control of 
 subject-matter. For pedagogical purposes they both deal 
 with the same great problems and are closely interrelated, 
 being two aspects of the same thing, but differing in the 
 point of view from which each is studied. The great 
 problems of the theory of method are essentially those 
 of the organization of racial subject-matter, of getting the 
 child to start to work upon subject-matter, of getting him 
 to organize his subject-matter, and of applying these 
 organizations to the handling of other units of subject- 
 
98 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 matter. And, as we have said, in working upon these 
 problems the teacher reflects upon his own methods of 
 organization, upon the way in which racial subject-matter 
 is organized, and, finally, studies, by means of practical 
 experience, the ways in which subject-matter is organized 
 in the experience of everybody, especially children. As a 
 result of this reflection he arrives at the principles of 
 pedagogy and methods of teaching. 
 
 Practical Experience. — All the aids that we have 
 mentioned may be well in hand before any practical teach- 
 ing has been engaged in. They are part of the equipment 
 with which professional schools should provide the teacher. 
 But let the inexperienced teacher try as he will, he is 
 sometimes unable to build up within himself an experi- 
 ence in harmony with that of his pupils. The difficulties 
 which he imagines may be only a few of the many diffi- 
 culties which the child may have. The method of explana- 
 tion which seems perfectly obvious to him may be turgid 
 to his pupils. The methods of discipline which seem fair 
 to him may to the child seem unfair; even his child self 
 may be too mature to approximate very closely to the 
 pupil's experience. Moreover, his study of psychology 
 may have given him a knowledge of the principles of 
 psychology without giving him a knowledge of their 
 peculiarities of combination in individual children, and 
 his principles of pedagogy and methods of teaching may 
 be merely principles and methods which, so far as he is 
 concerned, have yet to be tried on in actual practice. He 
 has not as yet met the child on his native heath; he has 
 verified the principles which he has accepted merely by 
 an appeal to his own experience, or by an appeal to the 
 records of child experience contained in books. He has, 
 
TEACHING OF SUBJECT-MATTER 99 
 
 therefore, many problems to overcome before he can trans- 
 late his experience, his knowledge of the world, and his 
 attitude toward life, over into the experience of the chil- 
 dren who now, for the first time, are actually before him. 
 At this point practical experience enters as the last aid in 
 helping him solve this problem. 
 
 Practical experience is of so much importance that some 
 have claimed that it is the most important factor in the 
 making of a teacher. But in considering this statement 
 we have to distinguish clearly between empirical and scien- 
 tific experience. By empirical experience we mean that 
 acquaintance with teaching which is picked up by the 
 teacher in a na'ive way. By scientific experience we mean 
 that experience which is secured in actual teaching when 
 the teacher is armed with the principles and the theories 
 of teaching which enable him to interpret what is taking- 
 place, and to react to it according to the fundamental ways 
 of acting which his principles provide for him. We can- 
 not, therefore, make the broad assertion that practical 
 experience is the most important aid to the teacher. 
 Empirical experience may be a positive detriment to him, 
 as any teacher in a normal school or teachers' college can 
 testify. But such is not the case with scientific experi- 
 ence. Its assistance is powerful; it throws light upon the 
 teacher's psychological principles, and gives content and 
 meaning to his theories of teaching. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MOTIVES. 
 Section 1. Psychology of Motives. 
 
 Definition of Motive. — A motive is generically some- 
 thing which moves one. It may be considered as a motor 
 which drives, forces, pushes, impels, and incites the indi- 
 vidual. 
 
 Education's greatest problem is that of securing motives 
 for the study of daily assignments. How to secure motives 
 for drill, for the study of arithmetic, of grammar, history, 
 and geography are among its most important problems. 
 
 The Source of Supply. — The source of the power that 
 will drive the pupil on to growth and higher development, 
 to satisfaction and control, is within himself. It is 
 primarily and finally his own activity. With this activity, 
 mental, moral, social, physical, or aesthetic, he is endowed 
 by heredity. This is his total supply, sometimes abundant 
 and over-abundant, sometimes meagre and inadequate. 
 Various terms characterize the forms in which this energy 
 is found. Experience is spoken of as being active. 
 Impulse is a generic term. Desire is sometimes used. 
 Instincts are said to impel. Spontaneity, at least, is 
 attributed to attention. 
 
 The teacher's problem is then only that of converting 
 this energy into a form in which it can be used to drive 
 
 100 
 
MOTIVES 101 
 
 the processes of school instruction. That there is energy 
 within the child sufficient to attack a reasonable course of 
 study is never questioned. One glimpse at the pupil out- 
 side of school assures us of the superabundant energy 
 within him; but how to turn that energy upon school 
 work is one of the most tantalizing problems of pedagogy. 
 
 Focal Points. — What we need to find, then, are the 
 
 conditions under which the activity and energy of the 
 pupil will become focused upon any point. When this 
 is discovered the business of the teacher becomes that of 
 providing or taking advantage of these conditions in such 
 a way as to connect the pupil's activity with the particular 
 units of subject-matter under consideration at any time. 
 
 Attention. — One form in which we find the energy of 
 the organism foe-used is attention. The situation in 
 which we pay attention to an object is one in which habit, 
 as characterizing our old ways of acting, is not capable 
 of giving us control of the situation. For instance, we 
 attend to the mechanism of a watch when it does not tell 
 time accurately. We turn our attention upon our foun- 
 tain pen when it ceases to give us control of the writing 
 process. We turn our attention upon the milk supply 
 when typhoid or other forms of illness or danger become 
 a menace to health. We begin to study the currency 
 question when a panic has arisen with which the already- 
 formed business processes cannot cope successfully. 
 
 Consciousness. — Similar to the foregoing is the con- 
 dition under which we become conscious of objects. So 
 long as the control of the situation is secured by physiolog- 
 ical processes consciousness does not enter upon its control. 
 We become conscious of our heart when it ceases to per- 
 
102 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 form its work efficiently. As we walk to our place of 
 business we are unconscious of a thousand-and-one objects 
 by the way. But when we find ourselves in a situation 
 in which we are confronted by some obstacle to our prog- 
 ress toward our destination, as for instance by an un- 
 usually wide puddle of water in the street, we immediately 
 become conscious of the obstacle. At that moment habit 
 has ceased to be sufficient for control. 
 
 Value and Control.— The same conditions are found 
 when we consider our efforts to get control of values. 
 Wherever we fail to have or cease to have control of any- 
 thing which we consider to be worth while, we immediately 
 institute proceedings to get the desired control. As soon 
 as there is a conscious failure in our methods of control 
 we seek new methods. Suppose, for instance, I am very 
 anxious to catch a train for the city. Control may be 
 lacking on account of a variety of reasons. The time of 
 departure of the train may not be known, the distance 
 to go to the depot may be great, or there is a traveling 
 case to be packed. Immediately energy is turned upon 
 the railway folder, upon the securing of a cab, or upon 
 the selection of suitable traveling appurtenances. If the 
 time of departure were known, if time to get to the depot 
 were ample, or if no baggage were needed, then it would 
 be hard to turn energy upon the objects so enthusiastically 
 attended to in the former case. 
 
 It is evident that in all these cases what is needed to 
 focalize the energy of the individual upon any object is 
 to have something which is felt to be worth controlling 
 and to have some obstacle in the way of its control. In 
 such cases experience focalizes all its power to devise 
 some way of securing control. 
 
MOTIVES 103 
 
 From time immemorial the race has been busy working 
 upon exactly this problem. It has found certain things 
 worth controlling, and has devised methods of control, 
 ways of acting which will give control. These things we 
 have called subject-matter, and some of the best of them 
 have been selected and put into text-books to be taught 
 to children, so that they will not have to learn them all 
 at first hand for themselves as the race has done. 
 
 Hence it follows that if we wish to secure motives for 
 the study of subject-matter, that is, if we wish to turn the 
 energy of the pupils upon subject-matter, it is necessary 
 that we know, first, what are the things considered of 
 value to the pupils ; second, how to create or find situations 
 in which they are conscious of not having the desired 
 control of these values; and tliird, the subject-matter 
 which is designed to give this control. 
 
 The kind of knowledge of subject-matter which is best 
 for this purpose has already been discussed. The earlier 
 statement that the function and structure both need to be 
 known by the teacher is here emphasized. If the teacher 
 does not have his subject-matter so organized that he 
 knows what unit is designed to fit a certain situation over 
 which the pupil has little or no control, he can give the 
 pupil no assistance, and the school to that extent fails in 
 its function. Moreover, if he does not know just how the 
 subject-matter works in securing this control, if he does 
 not know its structure, then he can lead his pupil only 
 as the blind lead the blind. 
 
 Section 2. Interests. 
 
 Motives should also be considered from the point of 
 view of interest. The problem of motive is then stated 
 
104 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 thus : How can we get children interested in subject- 
 matter? or, How can we connect subject-matter with the 
 interests of the pupils ? 
 
 Interest and Motives. — Certain psychologists, as 
 Stout and Titchener, define interest as the feeling side of 
 attention. That is to say, when attention is busy with an 
 object interest is also present. Or, vice versa, when we 
 are interested in an object we attend to it. If this defini- 
 tion of interest be accepted it follows that interest is a 
 motive, since the energy of an experience is upon the focal 
 point of attention. McMurry, 1 quoting Zeller and Oster- 
 man, holds also that interest is a form of feeling, but 
 associates it, not with attention, but with "pleasure, ease, 
 and needed employment." "It is intrinsic, native to the 
 subject and springs up naturally when the mind is brought 
 face to face with something attractive." He defines it 
 also as a "feeling of value, a sense or estimation of the 
 worth of the knowledge gained." Such a conception, then, 
 makes interest a feeling of value, pleasurably toned. And 
 since a feeling of value is in consciousness always pleasur- 
 able in tone, it follows that interest may be defined from 
 this standpoint as being a feeling of value. And since the 
 energy of consciousness is continually focused upon the 
 control of values, it follows also from this standpoint that 
 interest, because connected inseparably with value, is a 
 motive. 
 
 Dr. Dewey states that interest has three phases, the 
 objective, the subjective, and the active. As active it is 
 dynamic, urgent, impulsive, spontaneous, self-expressive. 
 As objective it is centered upon some object or way of 
 
 1 McMurry, "The Elements of General Method," 1903 edition, 
 pp. 85-87. 
 
MOTIVES 105 
 
 acting, but an object or a way of acting which will further 
 the spontaneous self-expressive activity involved. As sub- 
 jective it is characterized by a feeling of value. "It is the 
 purely important, individual consciousness of worth" 
 present whenever we have internal realization of value. 
 
 If we view interest as a feeling, as all three of the fore- 
 going definitions do, we see that it is a motive, because 
 activities whose value is felt have right of way and carry 
 on their work under the most favorable conditions. If we 
 view it as activity, again we find that it is a motive, 
 because it represents spontaneous, deep, urgent activity. 
 It is dynamic. If we concern ourselves with the object 
 of interest we can understand why under some conditions 
 it excites interest. It represents a call for activity, a way 
 in which the activity may find expression, and in which 
 the related values may be realized. 
 
 Kinds of Interest. — Immediate interest is a term used 
 to indicate the fact that an object is so closely related to 
 the value to be controlled that it is psychologically identical 
 with it. Mediate or derived interest indicates the fact that 
 an object is not so closely related to the value to be con- 
 trolled that it is psychologically identical with it. It 
 exists in consciousness as something separate. And a dis- 
 tinct act of association is necessary before the identity is 
 established. The game of football is of immediate interest 
 when to the player it is identical with the strain and effort, 
 the competition, and the pounding blood which are of so 
 much value to him. It is of interest mediately when it 
 is necessary to connect it in thought with these things of 
 value. When some youth is advised to take exercise for 
 his health he may have no forms of exercise which in his 
 experience are identical with health. In that case he has 
 
106 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 no immediate interest in athletics. He may have no 
 interest of any sort in them. But when he connects games 
 with health he has in such a situation mediate interest. 
 Later when he has grown accustomed to this connection 
 the interest may become immediate. 
 
 Method of Securing Interest in Objects. — Sometimes 
 it is stated that mere strangeness in an object will excite 
 interest. Again, familiarity is given as a quality which 
 will secure interest for an object. But obviously many 
 objects which are strange will not excite interest, and, 
 on the other hand, familiar objects are often uninteresting. 
 Frequently it is maintained that vivid and moving objects 
 excite interest, especially in children. But a moment's 
 thought will show that they do not invariably excite inter- 
 est. Nor is any quality of the object as such able to 
 invariably excite interest. To find the method, we have 
 to examine the individual. His activities, problems, needs, 
 and temperament determine in large measure what objects 
 will be interesting. James 1 states that the method of 
 securing interest in an object is the following. "Any 
 object not interesting in itself may become interesting 
 through becoming associated with an object in which an 
 interest already exists." In laying out a program for 
 school studies he says, "From all these emerges a very 
 simple abstract program for the teacher to follow in keep- 
 ing the attention of the child : Begin with the line of his 
 native instincts, and offer him objects that have some 
 immediate connection with these." "Next, step by step, 
 connect with these first objects and experiences the later 
 objects and ideas which you wish to instill. Associate the 
 new with the old in some natural and telling way, so that 
 
 1 ' ' Talks to Teachers, ' ' p. 94. 
 
MOTIVES 107 
 
 the interest, being shed from point to point, finally suf- 
 fuses the entire system of objects of thought." 
 
 All psychologists agree in principle with this statement. 
 To make any object interesting it is only necessary to 
 establish some connection between it and some other object 
 or some event already interesting in experience. But un- 
 fortunately for teachers, the method by which this con- 
 nection is to be made is not so clearly formulated. James 
 dismisses it by saying, "Associate the new with the old in 
 some natural and telling way." Dr. Dewey goes further 
 and says, "In reality the principle of making things inter- 
 esting means that subjects shall be selected in relation to 
 the child's present experience, powers, and needs ; and that 
 (in case he does not appreciate this relevancy) the teacher 
 shall present the new material in such a way as to enable 
 the child to appreciate its bearings, its relationships, its 
 necessity for him." 1 In the latter case the connection is 
 not to be made between objects primarily. The object is 
 to be connected with the "present experience, powers, and 
 needs of the children" in such a way as to reveal "its 
 necessity for them." 
 
 Interest and Control. — The conception that the 
 energy of the individual focalizes whenever there is a 
 failure to control values is of use in throwing further 
 light upon methods of securing interest. For, since any- 
 thing of value is interesting, it is worth while, and it is 
 a potential expression of the self. If then there is a failure 
 in the process of realizing this value, any object or method 
 of procedure which will help to overcome the difficulty and 
 provide control will be of value and interest. Even re- 
 pulsive things become interesting when we need them in 
 
 x " Interest as Related to Will," p. 17. 
 
108 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 order to secure things of value. A volume of statistics 
 is of absorbing interest when it is the means by which 
 I may establish my claim to something I consider of value. 
 A football rule book may be intensely interesting, hard 
 words and all, to a ten-year-old who may despise a school 
 reader. Arithmetic is worth while to the newsboy who 
 has to make change. Washing the dishes for a month 
 may be viewed with interest if it is the only way in which 
 a boy may earn money to go to the circus. 
 
 Hence, to repeat, in order to make any unit of subject- 
 matter interesting it is necessary to find something which 
 the pupil feels to be of value, put him in a situation where 
 he feels that he has not the desired control of this value, 
 and then present the subject-matter as a means for secur- 
 ing control. 
 
 This means that the teacher must know the function of 
 the subject-matter and its structure, and must be able 
 to find or create in the pupils the situation for control of 
 which the subject-matter was evolved. Whether the 
 teacher should watch the child to find the situations where 
 control is lacking and then select the appropriate subject- 
 matter, or whether he shall first select the subject-matter 
 and then create the situation in which the pupil feels his 
 lack of control, does not matter so long as there can be 
 established a close connection between the subject-matter 
 to be taught and the situation to be controlled. 
 
 Section 3. Needs. 
 
 Another form in which motives appear is that of needs. 
 The problem of securing motives may then be stated as 
 follows : How may a sense of need for the subject-matter 
 be aroused in the pupils? or, How may the subject-matter 
 
MOTIVES 109 
 
 be connected with the conscious needs of the pupils? This 
 conception provides another and valuable method of turn- 
 ing the energy of the pupils upon any work in hand. Its 
 importance for the teacher will be evident as soon as an 
 analysis of the idea is made. 
 
 Definition of Need. — Need is defined as the lack of 
 
 something that is necessary or important. The essential 
 elements in the definition are lack and something of im- 
 portance. The individual who needs bread lacks bread, 
 is without bread, and it is presupposed that bread is of 
 importance to him for some purpose or other. Need and 
 want both indicate lack, but want does not necessarily 
 imply that the thing is of importance to the individual. 
 For instance, when a boy approaches his father saying, 
 "I want a dollar," the father may reply by saying, "Do 
 you need it ?" In making this reply the father is endeavor- 
 ing to get data from the son by which to decide upon the 
 importance of the case. 
 
 The meaning of the term is made clearer if we return 
 to the idea of the control of values. We have seen in our 
 former discussion that a focal point in experience arises 
 when we are placed in a situation which cannot be con- 
 trolled by our present ways of acting. When health is 
 suffering because all present plans are not sufficient for 
 the task of keeping health then we bring all our powers 
 to bear upon the making of some plan that will provide 
 health. In such a situation need is felt when the insuffi- 
 ciency, the disability, is present in the focus of attention. 
 When attention is contemplating or feeling the break- 
 cloivn, the inadequacy of the powers to cope with the situa- 
 tion, we speak of need being felt. 
 
HO METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Need and Interest. — In a situation where there is 
 
 inability to control, the following phases are present. There 
 is some value to be controlled, there is inability to control, 
 there is an attempt to get control. Now, when attention 
 is concerned with the deficiencies of the situation, need is 
 felt ; but when attention swings over to the new method of 
 getting control and identifies it with the value to be con- 
 trolled, interest is present. Need and interest are not 
 separate and discrete things. They are simply aspects. 
 For instance, if we are working for control then there is 
 lack of control present. If we desire to make things bet- 
 ter, we imply that they are not good enough. But in 
 doing so we may focus attention at one time on the lack 
 side, at another time upon the problem of means of con- 
 trol. We are privileged to pay attention to whichever side 
 of the process will be of most service in giving control, 
 and we may do so at any time we wish. At one time we 
 will be benefitted by considering what is wrong, at an- 
 other how to correct it. But both are going on at the 
 same time. Both are implicitly present, though only the 
 one may be present explicitly. 
 
 Characteristics of Need. — As feeling, need is dis- 
 agreeable, while interest is agreeable. For while interest 
 identifies the object or way of acting with the values which 
 it is to control, need views the present condition as separate 
 from the values whose control is desired. Need is the 
 feeling that comes from the consciousness of poor adjust- 
 ment or inadequate control, and this is disagreeably toned. 1 
 Interest, as identifying the present situation with the value 
 whose control is approaching nearer and nearer, is agree- 
 ably toned. As cognitive need contemplates the defects in 
 
 1 Angell, "Psychology," p. 264. 
 
MOTIVES HI 
 
 the control of the valued object. It is concerned with the 
 means at hand in relation to the desired control, but in 
 such a view it considers the void that is present because 
 of the lack of elements to control. Under some conditions 
 this deficiency is not clearly defined and there is no definite 
 knowledge of what is lacking, as when the child cries from 
 sheer discomfort without knowing what is wrong. Under 
 other conditions the inadequacy may be clearly defined, as 
 when the father knows quite definitely that he needs bread 
 for his children. The father in this case is interested in 
 bread when he is concerned with it as the means of supply- 
 ing growth and strength to his children. He feels a need 
 for bread when he considers the condition of starvation to 
 which they may be subjected. 
 
 Dynamically, need is active. For inactivity means de- 
 generation, and in some cases extinction. The more 
 pressing the need, the more forcibly does the individual 
 gather from all quarters energies dormant or active in 
 order to get out of the difficulty. Indeed, there is no 
 other motive so active as need, provided the conditions 
 are not so crushing as to cause despair. 
 
 This latter statement leads to the pedagogical principle 
 that when a teacher points out to the pupils weaknesses 
 in their ability to control, he must at the same time sup- 
 ply methods of correcting or overcoming them. Criticism 
 must always be constructive. Mere fault-finding defeats 
 its own end. But finding faults needing remedy and pro- 
 viding conditions for their remedy is wholesome. 
 
 Values of the Conception of Need in Education.— 
 
 A sense of need sometimes works where other means fail. 
 The access of interest taken in educational matters by the 
 Germans subsequent to the Napoleonic wars is directly 
 
112 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 traceable to the fact that they realized so keenly their 
 weakness at that time. Never are currency problems so 
 keenly discussed as after a panic. Safe theatre regula- 
 tions had long been urged in Chicago, but only when the 
 Iroquois disaster came were they provided for by the 
 municipality. A business man may never become inter- 
 ested in healthful exercise till he becomes conscious of 
 failing health. A boy may never care about writing until 
 he finds that somebody has failed to understand him. A 
 great fire causes a sudden influx of business into fire in- 
 surance companies. These, and a thousand other ex- 
 amples, will illustrate the fact that until a need is felt, 
 until attention is riveted upon inadequacies, interest may 
 not be taken in means of improvement. 
 
 Need is a strong motive because its data are present and 
 not in the future. That is to say, when need is to be 
 aroused, the facts are in hand. The Germans in 1806 
 saw that at that time they were in a sad condition. They 
 had no army, no navy, no money, no credit. Before that 
 time they were working toward the future, trusting that 
 they would get control, would grow, that everything would 
 turn out well. The boy who writes poorly has some distant 
 day in view by which time he optimistically thinks that 
 in all probability he will be a good writer. But when he 
 sees now, to-day, that lie cannot convey his cherished mean- 
 ing clearly and easily there is no chance to dodge the 
 issue. The facts are before him. He realizes that he must 
 learn now. 
 
 The need is concerned with keeping control up to a 
 level. Interest is concerned with raising it above the level. 
 Interest may fail because the individual says, "I am get- 
 ting along well enough." Need spurs such an one on 
 
MOTIVES 113 
 
 because he sees that he is not getting on as well as he 
 should. And in general, the individual puts forth more 
 energy to save a cherished thing than to add a thing 
 which, perhaps, because of lack of familiarity therewith, 
 he has not yet learned to cherish. Need conserves values. 
 Interest adds values. Yet in the conserving, control of 
 values grows, and in the additive process the values are 
 conserved. 1 
 
 Section 4. Problems. 
 
 Another form in which motive sometimes appears is the 
 problem. In such a case the problem of securing motives 
 for study may be stated as follows. How may the children 
 be led to raise the problems which subject-matter solves? 
 or, How may subject-matter be connected with the problems 
 of the pupils? 
 
 Relation of Problem to Interest, Need, and Control 
 of Values. — The problem is the cognitive phase of 
 these. This will be clear after a few statements of rela- 
 tion. When there is a break-down in control the problem 
 of how to get control arises. When there is a need present 
 the problem becomes one of satisfying the need. When 
 interest is fulfilling itself the problem is that of securing 
 ways to fulfill it. For instance, a student goes to a new 
 town and finds that he has no friends. Having friends 
 
 1 In this section stress has been laid upon the conception of 
 need, not because it is a conception that ought to supersede the 
 conception of interest, which would be psychologically impossible, 
 but because the agreeable feeling tone of interest has been over- 
 emphasized in educational theory, and the elements that come from 
 a conception of need have not been given their proper place in 
 theory and have been carried on sub rosa in educational practice. 
 What is needed is that this conception, carried out in school prac- 
 tice because in practice we get nearer the truth than in theory, 
 should be given a place in theory, and by being so recognized be 
 better regulated. 
 
114 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 may be a value, to have friends may be a need, or he may 
 be interested in friends or in having friends according as 
 we express one or another of the phases of the question. 
 In every case, however, the problem of how to get friends 
 arises. And in securing this valued friendship, in satisfy- 
 ing his need for friends, or in fulfilling his interest in 
 friends in so far as he thinks, perceives, organizes plans 
 and tests them, he is concerned with the cognitive side of 
 the situation. When he has solved his problem he has at 
 the same time controlled his value, satisfied his need, and 
 fulfilled his interest. And this is so because the problem- 
 solution idea is simply the cognitive phase of the process. 
 
 Method of Raising Problems. — The method of raising 
 problems is the same in general as the method of arousing 
 need or interest. If the pupil can be put into a situation 
 where he has to control some value over which he has not 
 control, the problem of controlling it will arise. The first 
 requisite is the presence of some object or activity, whose 
 possession is considered worth while. The second is the 
 recognition of inability to control it. When these are 
 ■present the problem arises naturally and of its own accord. 
 
 Conclusion. — With the addition of the term "problem" 
 there are four concepts with which motive may be con- 
 nected. Energy is focalized when there is some value to 
 control, some need to be satisfied, some interest to be ful- 
 filled, or some problem to be solved. 
 
 It becomes evident, now, why the function of subject- 
 matter has been described as it was above. The race is 
 busy working out the methods of controlling values, satis- 
 fying needs, fulfilling interests, and solving problems. 
 These methods are preserved as long as they are useful and 
 
MOTIVES 115 
 
 sometimes longer. Some of the best and most important 
 of them are collected and put into the school course of in- 
 struction. The function of subject-matter is to solve the 
 problems, satisfy the needs, control the values, and fulfill 
 the interests of pupils. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MOTIVE APPLIED TO EDUCATION. 
 
 Section 1. Active and Potential Motives. 
 
 By the term active motive we mean the needs, interests, 
 and problems actively present which call for subject- 
 matter by which to satisfy and solve them. The term 
 potential motives characterizes the fact that the pupils 
 have the capacity to appreciate problems, needs, and inter- 
 ests as soon as conditions have been provided for arousing 
 them. 
 
 The necessity for this classification of motives arises 
 from two conditions, one practical and the other theoret- 
 ical. Considering the practical side, in the course of a 
 clay's work the teacher finds two sets of conditions. In one 
 case the pupils ask him questions; this indicates active 
 motives. In the other case the teacher has subject-matter 
 which is to be taught, and for which he has to arouse the 
 need or raise the problem for whose solution the subject- 
 matter was created. In this case he presupposes a poten- 
 tial motive ; the teacher's problem becomes that of making 
 it active. In the former case there is no problem of pro- 
 viding a motive, the active motive being already present. 
 In the latter case, the problem of arousing a motive is 
 all-important, since an active motive must be provided 
 before the lesson can be learned. 
 
 On the theoretical side the distinction is of importance. 
 116 
 
MOTIVE APPLIED TO EDUCATION 117 
 
 There are some authorities who in theory claim that the 
 business of the teacher is to follow the active motives of 
 the child and, as these motives become evident, to provide 
 the subject-matter relevant to them. In this case the 
 subject-matter of the course must be fluent and must vary 
 for different pupils. On the other hand, there are those 
 who claim in theory that the important thing in the school 
 is the course of study, representing as it does the solutions 
 of problems which are necessary for the child when he 
 enters life, and that the motives of the child are chiefly 
 those of the will. But midway between these two positions 
 stand the great majority of educators who claim right- 
 fully that there are undoubtedly many things important 
 for the child to acquire and that these should be gathered 
 up in a course of study, but that the order of teaching 
 them should be so arranged that each will be taught at 
 the time when the child has potentially within him, the 
 motive for studying that particular thing. 1 It is not a 
 matter of making the subject-matter wait upon his active 
 motives, nor one of ignoring any worthy motive whatever. 
 It is a question of finding out what problem, need, or value 
 each unit of subject-matter was created to supply, and of 
 introducing it at a time when the relevant need or prob- 
 lem is potentially present in the child's experience. The 
 teacher's first business in this case would of course be to 
 transform this potential motive into active form. In this 
 way the course of study would not need to wait upon each 
 pupil. It could be arranged according to broad stages 
 of child development, and hence could have sufficient 
 stability for practical purposes in any school room. 
 
 In the case of the active form, the motive is ready at 
 1 Dewey, ' ' The Child and the Curriculum. ' ' 
 
118 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 hand and there is no problem for the teacher except, per- 
 haps, that of deciding whether the motive should be util- 
 ized or ignored. In the case of the potential form the 
 problem of arousing a motive is a serious one, and of this 
 the present chapter will treat. 
 
 Section 2. Subject-Matter of Immediate Interest. 
 
 Statement of Aim. — When reliance is placed upon 
 immediate interest all the teacher needs to do in beginning 
 the lesson proper is to get the problem before the pupils 
 by a statement of what it is to be. The motive is supposed 
 to arise spontaneously, for the subject-matter is imme- 
 diately made identical with some value which the child 
 cherishes. 
 
 McMurry 1 expresses in brief form the characteristics of 
 such a statement. First, it should be concrete. For in- 
 stance, he advocates the advisability of stating the problem 
 thus: "How does Chicago get its water?" rather than, 
 "How do cities get their water?" Again, in teaching the 
 fable of the Lion and the Mouse, the teacher may properly 
 aim to show to her pupils that little things may be of 
 much help; but her concrete statement might be, "Let us 
 hear a story about how a mouse once saved the life of a 
 lion." A second requirement is defi?iiteness. Announcing 
 that to-day's lesson is a continuation of yesterday's is 
 indefinite. Nor is the statement of the aim "about Spain" 
 as good as, "Why are nearly all the large cities of Spain 
 on the coast ?" A third requirement is that the statement 
 be short, simple, and attractive. Strange words should not 
 be used. For instance, rather than metamorphoses use 
 
 "'The Method of the Eecitation, ' » 1903 edition, pp. 107-111. 
 
MOTIVE APPLIED TO EDUCATION H9 
 
 changes; rather than to say, "What is the function of 
 leaves?" say, "How do leaves help the trees?" 
 
 Again, in physics, instead of stating the problem of 
 gravitation as, "What is the nature of the attraction be- 
 tween bodies ?" it is preferable to ask the historic question, 
 "Why does an apple fall to the ground?" Or if square 
 root is to be studied, instead of asking an abstract question, 
 make the situation concrete by asking, "If you had a square 
 field containing 185 square rods, how long would each 
 side be?" Other examples of such concrete statement are 
 given elsewhere. 
 
 Attractiveness comes from various causes, one of which 
 is the dramatic introduction of new views of old subjects. 
 For instance, in teaching the siphon inquire, "Under what 
 conditions does water run up hill?" Instead of saying, 
 "To-day we will take up the cause of wind," ask the ques- 
 tion, "What makes the wind blow?" To have the ability 
 to startle children in their complaisant acceptance of ideas 
 is one of the best ways of making subject-matter attractive. 
 In physics, "Why is it that sometimes when water boils 
 it will not boil eggs?" may well introduce the relation of 
 pressure to the boiling point. Again, "Why is it harder on 
 a horse to trot down hill than up hill ?" will introduce the 
 principles of momentum. The teacher with an instinct 
 for startling contrasts is able to do much in making 
 subject-matter of immediate interest to students. 
 
 Aim and Problem. — In the statement of the aim two 
 
 relations need to be borne in mind. In the first place, the 
 statement of the aim is the statement of the problem to be 
 solved. In the second place, the aim to be stated is the 
 conscious aim of the pupil. 1 The teacher may have in 
 
 1 See Chapter I, 
 
120 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 addition other aims of which the child is not conscious, 
 but these have no place in any consideration of the pupil's 
 aim. 
 
 Extent of Reliance to be Placed Upon Immediate 
 Interest. — Any experienced teacher knows that com- 
 plete reliance cannot be placed upon immediate interest, 
 nor can he always depend upon the mere statement of the 
 aim to secure interest, even when expressed in short, con- 
 crete, simple, and definite form. The element of attrac- 
 tiveness covers all cases not covered by the others. An 
 attractive problem (or aim) will always interest. But in 
 the securing of attractiveness we have to rely frequently, 
 though not always, upon mediate interest. This will be 
 discussed in the next section. 
 
 To what extent can we rely upon immediate interest? 
 In answer to this query no general concrete rule can be 
 laid down. When we come to specify what characteristics 
 of the object will be interesting we have to decide, as in 
 Chapter 8, that there are none which invariably are so, 
 for the question of interest goes back to the individual. 
 Those objects are interesting which give him control of 
 values. 
 
 Specifically we may say that whenever we take up the 
 logical or formal study of any subject we have to pre- 
 suppose immediate interest in the subject. When history 
 is studied as history we have to presuppose that the prob- 
 lems of history are of interest per se. When English 
 history is studied, even as an aid to understanding Ameri- 
 can institutions, we still have, in the main, to presuppose 
 immediate interest in English history from day to day. 
 
 When we study any subject incidentally we do not have 
 
MOTIVE APPLIED TO EDUCATION 121 
 
 to presuppose interest in it per se } but we do have to pre- 
 suppose immediate interest in the thing because of which 
 it is studied. For instance, when we study arithmetic in 
 manual training we have to presuppose immediate interest 
 in the work which the arithmetic is intended to help. 
 
 About the only rule that is formulated for practical 
 guidance is this : Rely upon immediate interest in subject- 
 matter when it is as interesting per se as any other value 
 to which it may be related. For, as we have seen in 
 Chapter 8, any subject can be made interesting if it can 
 be related to some other thing of value that cannot be con- 
 trolled without its help. But if a subject cannot be made 
 to help in the control of any other thing of more value than 
 itself, there is no good reason for the extra connection, so 
 far as motive is concerned. 
 
 Caution. — The function of each unit of subject- 
 matter is to get control of something of value. Each unit 
 of subject-matter has a specific function for which it was 
 created and for which it has been retained. Some of this 
 subject-matter is preserved as an end in itself, and some as 
 purely instrumental. It therefore becomes necessary for 
 the teacher who relies upon immediate interest, chiefly 
 curiosity, to be sure that before the unit is left it is used 
 in the situation for which it was constructed. For instance, 
 if curiosity is relied upon to engender interest in the agree- 
 ment of noun and verb, the subject must not be left until 
 the pupil has used this rule in situations for which it was 
 made. He must be made to apply it in the communica- 
 tion of ideas in his own speech. 
 
 As an instance of what should not be done, the following 
 is germane. In a school system where the rules of spelling 
 
122 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 in accordance with the text-book are taught in the fifth 
 grade, a seventh grade teacher said, "I think it is a mis- 
 take not to have those rules taught in the higher grades." 
 From her tone it was to be inferred that they were not to 
 be used in the seventh grade because they were taught in 
 the fifth grade. This is the danger of reliance upon 
 curiosity to create all the interest necessary. The instru- 
 mental subject-matter is not viewed as a tool to be used 
 for the control of certain types of situations. When im- 
 mediate interest is relied upon these instrumental uses 
 must be taken care of in the application. Otherwise, the 
 child gathers mere rubbish, interesting rubbish to be sure, 
 but still rubbish which is to be thrown away at some time 
 just as the broken china, the lucky stones, and the muti- 
 lated stamps, which are at one time so attractive, are 
 later outgrown and discarded. It has in its day served 
 a purpose in development, but if its instrumental purpose 
 had only been revealed it might remain throughout life 
 as a serviceable part of experience. 
 
 Section 3. Subject-Matter as Mediately Interesting. 
 
 When the active motive is not present and when the 
 potential motive cannot be immediately aroused by the 
 statement of the aim by the teacher, it becomes necessary 
 to fall back upon mediate interest in order to find a 
 motive. 
 
 To accomplish this it is necessary to create a situation 
 in which the pupil is unable to control some value with- 
 out recourse to the subject-matter. The elements are 
 three, — some value to be controlled, inability to control, 
 introduction of the subject-matter. 
 
 Generic and Specific Values. — By generic values is 
 
MOTIVE APPLIED TO EDUCATION 123 
 
 meant values which are in evidence in many fields. The 
 virtues, — honest}', desire for good standing, love of appro- 
 bation, self-reliance, duty, thoroughness, neatness, obedi- 
 ence, and freedom are examples of these values. They are 
 generic in the sense that they apply equally well over a 
 large area. For instance, honesty appeals equally well in 
 arithmetic or drawing. By specific values is meant those 
 particular things which are of value only over a limited 
 area. For instance, building a box, playing football, de- 
 veloping pictures, the story of George Washington, writing 
 a poem, are specific values because they do not have wide 
 occurrence. They are particular, sui genera, not common 
 to a class of situations. 
 
 Classes of Generic Values. — Some of these are per- 
 manent and universal, such as honor, thoroughness, pride, 
 obedience, self-reliance. Others are peculiar to the school- 
 room, such as grades, promotion, exemptions, not being 
 kept in, etc. 
 
 Generic Values and Motives. — One method of secur- 
 ing a motive for school work is to create a situation in 
 which the pupil will see that he must acquire the subject- 
 matter in order to control these generic values. For in- 
 stance, he desires a good grade. He will not get the good 
 grade unless he learns the lesson. He likes to get out after 
 school with the rest of the boys. He cannot unless he 
 studies his lesson. He wishes to be self-reliant. He can- 
 not be if he does not study his lesson without assistance. 
 He craves the good opinion of the teacher. This is not to 
 be attained if he does not study. He wishes to be 
 thorough. This he will not be if he does not get hold of 
 the details of subject-matter. He prides himself on his 
 
124 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 honesty. He will not be honest unless he acts in such 
 and such ways. 
 
 It is evident that these are common methods of secur- 
 ing a motive for endeavor. Moreover, it must be acknowl- 
 edged that the permanent and universal values are the 
 ones to be developed and utilized. They keep many a ship 
 from going on the rocks. It must be admitted that every 
 teacher is compelled to rely upon these at various times 
 when other motives fail. 
 
 Chief among them is the generic value called obedience. 
 The average pupil needs to feel that it is valuable to do a 
 thing simply because it is demanded of him. If he does 
 not feel this element of necessity in the atmosphere of the 
 schoolroom, the tone of his work will be lowered. Very 
 few teachers can rely wholly upon the pure interest of the 
 child in his work, for the interest of children in any topic 
 is relatively short-lived. And it may often die out before 
 a reasonable degree of proficiency has been secured. In 
 the attainment of skill there must be usually a good deal 
 of uninteresting drill, and if the pupil is not held to it 
 by an appeal to some generic value such as this he will 
 often fail. Moreover, this respect for authority is a 
 salubrious element in his life outside the school as well 
 as in, and therefore cannot be neglected. The school- 
 room which is not vertebratecl by firmness and spiritual 
 compulsion cannot accomplish the best results in train- 
 ing. 
 
 But while generic values have their place, they are some- 
 times used to an extreme degree. Only in so far as they 
 form the reserve of the schoolroom, the atmosphere of en- 
 deavor or the background of the scene, are they rightfully 
 used. They are not wisely used when they form the sole 
 
MOTIVE APPLIED TO EDUCATION 135 
 
 incentive to work. This is especially true for the reason 
 that the specific function of subject-matter as an instru- 
 ment of experience has no particular place in their econ- 
 omy. 
 
 Specific Values and Motives. — One other case remains 
 to be described. When appeal is made to specific values 
 the instructor first determines the function of the subject- 
 matter. This gives him the cue for searching out the 
 situation in which to place the child. For the latter is to 
 be made conscious of the lack of control to remedy which 
 the subject-matter was constructed. For instance, since 
 the function of punctuating is to show relation between 
 thoughts for the sake of definiteness in communication, 
 the teacher will try to put the boy into a situation where 
 he sees that he has made an error in writing something, 
 though his knowledge of it is correct. Then he has a mo- 
 tive for studying punctuation. Or, again, since the func- 
 tion of the subject-matter on the Commonwealth is to show 
 how the English of that period failed in self-government 
 when given a chance, the instructor will lead the children 
 up in their history to the place where the English people 
 had, by removing the king, taken a step in the solution of 
 their problem of attaining self-government, and will then 
 lead the way to the new subject-matter by interrogation, 
 "When they now had a chance how did they succeed?" 
 
 Further illustrations of this method of introduction will 
 be given in the next chapter. The method of its manipula- 
 tion is, first, to determine the function of the unit of sub- 
 ject-matter to be taught; second, to arouse the need for 
 whose satisfaction it was created. This is done by putting 
 the child in a situation in which he sees that he lacks 
 control of some value, and that he must turn to this sub- 
 
12C METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 ject-matter in order to secure control. The efficiency of 
 the method depends upon the ability of the teacher to 
 create the specific situation for whose control the subject- 
 matter was constructed. If the intrinsic function is not 
 brought into touch with the specific need relevant thereto 
 the method fails. 
 
 Practical and Imagined Situations. — It is evident 
 that the situations into which the pupils are put may be 
 practical or imaginary. For instance, in the case of learn- 
 ing the facts of addition, the children may be playing 
 a game, each child putting down his own score. At the 
 end of three rounds the teacher may say, "Who is ahead ?" 
 Here is a strong and practical motive for addition. Again, 
 in dealing with the facts of notes, and checks, and drafts, 
 etc., the pupils may not have a chance to do real banking, 
 but may construct a make-believe bank, with very little of 
 the bank association, to run which successfully the facts 
 mentioned have to be learned. 
 
 There is no question as to which is the more valuable of 
 the two. From every point of view the practical situation 
 produces the stronger motive. And this fact it is which 
 lends so much fascination to the organization of the instru- 
 mental subjects, as grammar, arithmetic, and spelling, on 
 the incidental plan. A practical situation is created in 
 Avhich the children have real needs for the material pre- 
 sented. 
 
 However, so long as we have a rigid division between 
 subjects these situations so created must in many cases be 
 artificial and the teacher should frankly abandon the 
 method in such cases. But even as the course is now organ- 
 ized there are innumerable instances in which it works to 
 the great improvement of motivation. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 EXAMPLES OF METHODS OF SECURING MOTIVES. 
 
 Section 1. Composition. 
 
 The function of language has been stated above as that 
 of using words to convey values to others interested in 
 them but possessing a different level of control. It is 
 necessary for the most enthusiastic language work that 
 the speaker or writer have something that he thinks of 
 value, that those to whom he wishes to tell it be interested 
 in this thing, but that they do not know as much about 
 it as he does. The forms of language are the tools which 
 the race has worked out to give control of this transference 
 of value. 
 
 Individual Subjects for Composition. — Let us ex- 
 amine into the methods by which a situation may be 
 created that will provide language motives. In order that 
 the writer may have some value to express, of which the 
 audience does not have control, the subjects of composi- 
 tions may be chosen by the writer. If all write upon the 
 same theme it follows, on the one hand, that the teacher 
 cannot be sure that it is of value to the writers, and, on the 
 other hand, one incentive to writing is taken away, be- 
 cause everybody knows as much about the topic as does 
 the writer. Whether or not the topic be chosen b\ the 
 writer, it must be a valuable one to him. In order to se- 
 cure this, one rule may be laid down- let the writers 
 
 127 
 
128 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 choose a superlative experience — the funniest, the most 
 thrilling, the saddest, or the most peculiar. The writer 
 must also think of his audience, and select among his valu- 
 able experiences those which he believes will interest them. 
 
 A Genuine Audience. — In order to get an audience 
 that will be below him in a knowledge of the thing he is 
 to convey, the whole class should be the audience. He 
 may feel that he cannot tell the teacher anything, but he is 
 surer of the class. In addition to this the teacher should 
 cultivate the attitude that makes the pupils feel that they 
 can give him things which he does not already know. For 
 undoubtedly they are often in a position to do so in con- 
 nection with some matter of peculiar interest to them. 
 
 In such a situation it is only necessary to get the writer 
 to feel that he cannot convey his meaning efficiently. In 
 getting him to realize this and thereby feel the need for 
 the forms of language, the audience, including the teacher, 
 assists. It can decide upon his effectiveness as readers 
 decide upon the effectiveness of a novelist. If they make 
 him aware of the fact that he has not given them some- 
 thing worth while, he will be conscious that he has not . 
 accomplished his purpose. 
 
 With the need thus aroused the teacher sets to work 
 with the class to devise a scheme for getting control of the 
 process of communication. In almost every case the 
 teacher can, by a "common sense method," get the children 
 to state how to do it. And when they have found it they 
 have struck upon the form or principle of language which 
 the race has already worked out. 
 
 Report of a Series of Lessons. — The following is an 
 example of how certain language forms used in descrip- 
 
METHODS OF SECURING MOTIVES 129 
 
 tion were taught: These forms were the fundamental 
 image, point of view, details, choice of words, figures of 
 speech, character description, and impressiveness. 1 
 
 Description. — The class had been working upon nar- 
 ration and had found that whenever their narratives re- 
 quired descriptions the results were very unsatisfactory. 
 So, with the weakness thus made evident, and their main 
 problem — that of becoming efficient in writing descrip- 
 tions — being clearly in mind, they turned to a study of 
 description. 
 
 The first thing the teacher did was to have the class 
 describe a thing without any directions except that they 
 were to choose some one of six buildings on the campus, 
 with the understanding that they were to make the picture 
 clear enough for the others to see the thing described. 
 These themes were read in class. The students criticised 
 them on the basis of clearness of pictures. The audience 
 felt that they could not get a clear image of some build- 
 ings, while they could of others, but that they did not 
 see why this was so, except that the good themes seemed 
 to follow some plan of description, and bad ones did not. 
 
 The General Outline. — The problem then became 
 that of discovering what made certain themes good. The 
 teacher helped in this by exposing a picture to them sev- 
 eral times in order to show them how things are really 
 seen. At the first exposure they got only an idea of the 
 general outline, and at each succeeding exposure they were 
 able to add details. In this way the students were able 
 to formulate the statement that in description one should 
 
 1 Taught by Carter Alexander in Teachers ' College High School. 
 University of Missouri. 
 
130 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 give a general idea to the audience first. They had thus 
 arrived at the fundamental image. Then they went to 
 Hawthorne to see how he handled the fundamental image. 
 They next were asked to write themes in which they paid 
 particular attention to this principle. These themes were 
 read in class. 
 
 The Point of View. — The audience found that in 
 
 describing a scene they had mentioned things that could 
 not be seen from one standpoint; e. g., describing the out- 
 side and inside of a church in the same picture. Again 
 they went to Hawthorne to see what he did with the stand- 
 point, and found that he described from one point of view, 
 or if he described from more than one he made the reader 
 aware of the change. Then they wrote themes emphasizing 
 the point of view and fundamental image. 
 
 Details. — During all the writing of descriptions the 
 students had been worried about details, saying that they 
 became confused about what to put in and what to leave 
 out, and particularly in what order to place the items. 
 This created a demand for a lesson on details. They dis- 
 cussed the matter themselves, and later consulted Haw- 
 thorne. Then other themes were written and read in 
 class. 
 
 When these were read the audience brought out the fact 
 that while some themes had a good point of view and 
 handled details well, the impression was still flat and un- 
 interesting. 
 
 Effectiveness. — 'The teacher then called up instances 
 in which the students had used effective descriptive words 
 and phrases, and said that they would study two methods 
 of creating effectiveness, words and comparisons. There- 
 
METHODS OF SECURING MOTIVES 131 
 
 upon they went to Hawthorne again to see how he used 
 these effectively. Again themes were written and read in 
 class. The teacher once again set the problem, this time 
 the study of comparison from a little different point of 
 view, viz., figures of speech. Again they went to Haw- 
 thorne, and in addition studied some faulty figures in order 
 by contrast to bring out the point that figures of speech 
 should be used only when they made description more ef- 
 fective, and that if a figure of speech attracted attention 
 to itself it did not enhance the whole description. Then 
 once more they wrote themes, and again read them in 
 class. 
 
 Describing Persons. — Previously the students in 
 writing themes had become conscious of their inability 
 to describe people as well as scenes. The teacher referred 
 to this and directed attention to description of people. 
 They consulted Hawthorne to see his method and wrote 
 themes in which they described teachers or pupils in the 
 school but not in the class. They did this in order that 
 the audience might have a chance to decide upon the truth- 
 fulness of the description. This proved intensely interest- 
 ing. 
 
 Specific Impression. — In this lesson the audience 
 observed that while some descriptions were impressive in 
 parts, many of them did not have a central impression 
 which they wished to convey. They then went to Haw- 
 thorne and to George Eliot to see if they had such, and 
 how they seemed to secure it. They thereupon wrote 
 themes in which they endeavored to convey specific im- 
 pressions, such as the grandeur of Academic Hall, the 
 disorder of a room, fear at night, pity, etc. 
 
132 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Conclusion. — This was all the time that the students 
 were able to devote to description. They returned to the 
 original narratives upon which they had failed, and re- 
 wrote them to make them more effective. 
 
 The teacher believes that in going over this course an- 
 other time he would introduce the specific impression 
 earlier, as a means of controlling details in the image, and 
 as a means toward making the theme less flat and uninter- 
 esting. 
 
 This series of lessons seems to be particularly valuable 
 as showing a method of so handling a course that the class 
 itself will feel that their work is not satisfactory, that they 
 will then take hold of the problem of making it more satis- 
 factory, and that they will thereby feel the force and see 
 the pertinence of the principles of composition. 
 
 Section 2. Beading. 
 
 Oral reading has a function similar to that of language, 
 but differing in that the reader transmits to his audience 
 the thing that he thinks valuable expressed in the language 
 of someone else. But before he can read effectively he 
 must make the value his own, and consequently in oral 
 reading the situation is the same as in language. 
 
 The Motive in Oral Reading. — To build up the mo- 
 tive for reading the reader must feel that he has some- 
 thing worth reading with which his audience is unac- 
 quainted. Reading is likely to lack motive if everybody 
 reads from the same book, and if each reader knows that 
 everyone else knows as much about it as he does, probably 
 more if he reads poorly. To obviate this, and to give a 
 motive for reading, three devices may be mentioned : First, 
 
METHODS OP SECUEING MOTIVES 133 
 
 the pupils may be allowed regularly to bring to class clip- 
 pings, jokes, short stories, sidelights on other lessons, etc., 
 and read these. Second, the class may regularly be di- 
 vided into two sections, and each section be allowed to 
 have a different text-book. Then as each section reads, the 
 other section constitutes an audience. Third, pupils in the 
 study of other subjects, when exact information upon 
 points of dispute or methods of procedure is lacking, may 
 be allowed to turn to their books to find and read the sen- 
 tences that will give the desired information. 
 
 How the Audience Helps. — To introduce the forms of 
 good reading, such as enunciation, pronunciation, and 
 carrying quality of the voice, it is only necessary to make 
 the reader aware of his deficiencies by appealing to the 
 audience. For instance, the other section of the class may 
 report that they cannot hear the reader. Then he has a 
 motive for learning to speak distinctly because he wants 
 the audience to hear the fine story he is reading. Eules 
 for speaking distinctly will be forthcoming from the 
 teacher and the class. 
 
 Silent Reading. — In silent reading, where the pupil 
 is reading to get the idea rather than to convey it to others, 
 conditions are reversed. Here the author has the thing of 
 value, and the reader does not have it but is interested in 
 it. Motives for studying the forms of silent reading easily 
 follow from analogy with the foregoing. 
 
 Section 3. Writing. 
 
 The Function of Writing 1 . — Writing is an offshoot of 
 language. It has the same general function — to com- 
 municate things of value to others who do not have them. 
 
134 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Its specific function is to attend to the form of letters. 
 Evidently the forms of letters should be drilled upon 
 when the pupil sees that he cannot make his meaning- 
 clear because his writing is illegible. Legibility is the final 
 standard. If he sees that something he wishes to say is 
 misunderstood, or is understood with difficulty because 
 he writes illegibly, he will have a motive for studying the 
 writing forms. 
 
 A Motive for Practice. — The following device, which 
 may be used from the sixth grade up, makes the writer 
 conscious of his deficiencies and anxious to remedy them. 
 Suppose we go on the assumption that a child whose writ- 
 ing is reasonably legible does not need to have special 
 writing lessons. This is a fair assumption. Then make 
 the writing period one in which only those who write their 
 composition, arithmetic, geography, or history work illegi- 
 bly shall receive special instruction, and as soon as the 
 writing in these subjects becomes legible they will be ex- 
 cused from the writing class. This has several advan- 
 tages. It raises the general tone of writing. It makes 
 those who write illegibly feel a need for writing legibly. 
 Moreover, it provides that since only a few of the pupils, 
 and these the poor writers, are in the class, the teacher 
 can spend his time to better advantage in teaching them. 
 
 Section 4. Arithmetic. 
 
 Incidental Work. — If arithmetic is taught inciden- 
 tally it is an easy matter to secure motives for its study. 
 For instance, in the game of "bean bag" in the primary 
 grades, where the pupils try to throw four bags, say, 
 through a hoop, a motive for addition may be secured. 
 
METHODS OF SECUK1NG MOTIVES 135 
 
 Each of the children may be allowed to put down in a 
 separate column on the board the number of bags he 
 throws through the hoop, thus giving practice in counting 
 and making figures. After going three times around the 
 class the following table might result: 
 
 ary 
 
 Willie 
 
 John 
 
 Susie 
 
 Tom 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 Then the question may be asked, "Who is ahead ?" Here 
 is a strong motive for adding, for this question cannot be 
 settled till the results are added. 
 
 Or, again, in the construction of a flower bed all sorts 
 of arithmetic facts will be necessary before the bed is laid 
 off, and each pupil given his proper share. Here also the 
 motive is strong, and the study of the necessary arithmetic 
 will be carried on with vigor. 
 
 Isolated Arithmetic. — But when arithmetic is taught 
 as a separate study, and situations have to be found which 
 will require the use of its principles in order to get control 
 of the situations for which the race has constructed them, 
 it is sometimes impossible to find practical situations such 
 as can be found if it is taught incidentally, or such as we 
 have cited in language, writing, and reading. Then the 
 teacher has to fall back upon generic values, upon immedi- 
 ate interest, or upon imaginary situations. However, in 
 all cases in which an appropriate imaginary situation can 
 be devised it should be built up. A few examples may be 
 given. 
 
 Carrying in Addition. — Some teachers teach carry- 
 
136 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 ing in addition by dramatizing bookkeeping. The chil- 
 dren are bookkeepers for the Chicago Flagstaff Company. 
 The staffs for shipping are done up in bundles of ten. 
 Three dealers in Oskaloosa, Iowa, send in orders, one for 
 one bundle and six separate staffs; one for two bundles 
 and four separate ones; and the last for one bundle and 
 five separate ones. They are all to be done up in bundles 
 to be broken in Oskaloosa. How many bundles? The 
 value here is to do the work of the "bookkeepers" and to 
 order the bundling to be done. The carrying must be per- 
 formed before this can be done. 
 
 Business Forms. — Again, by establishing a "bank" 
 in the school and allowing the pupils to carry it on, at 
 first, without instruction, it is possible to have them feel 
 the need for written promissory notes, for receipts, or for 
 checks. These will, then, be better understood, because 
 the pupils are conscious of how things are going wrong 
 when they are not used, and will "discover" them "as means 
 for keeping correct accounts. 
 
 Cancellation. — An example of a very good method of 
 
 introducing the rules for testing for factors by sight is 
 the following, which illustrates how a practical situation 
 may be created when arithmetic is studied as a separate 
 subject. Take, for instance, the rule of divisibility by 
 three. We know that if the sum of the digits is divisible 
 by three the number is divisible by three. The function 
 is to give rapidity in cancellation. We may teach this by 
 appealing to immediate interest, and state the aim, "Let 
 us find a quick way of telling when a number is divisible 
 by three." But it is more effective to arouse a need for it. 
 This may be done as follows : The children are supposed 
 to think that rapidity in cancellation is wocth while. To 
 
METHODS OF SECUEING MOTIVES 137 
 
 bring this value actively into consciousness give a few exer- 
 
 27 19 24 
 cises, such as — . — . — . working for rapidity. The teach- 
 
 54 57 36 & r J 
 
 er's next problem is to make the children see that they are 
 
 not so rapid as they might be; that is, that they have not 
 
 full control of the value. This may be done in a variety 
 
 of ways. Perhaps a particularly difficult problem may be 
 
 729 
 given, such as- • While the children are laboring with 
 
 it the teacher may work it out on the board, and then be- 
 fore they have finished may say, "I have already finished; 
 you are slow," etc. And may explain further, "I didn't 
 do it more rapidly because I am a better divider than you 
 are. I have a short way." This will make them con- 
 scious of slowness, and will give them a stronger motive 
 for learning the rule than does mere immediate interest. 
 
 Section 5. History. 
 
 In the study of history the problem of the new unit 
 usually can be made to rise out of the previous units. 
 For if there is a central problem running through the 
 whole period of history, each event is usually an attempt 
 on the part of the nation to solve that problem which, 
 though in reality always the same, presents new phases, 
 because some new factors come in to disturb the conditions 
 already present. 
 
 This will be at once evident if we notice the arrange- 
 ment of the following three lessons. We are to presuppose 
 that the function of the subject-matter upon the Eevolu- 
 tionary period is to show the relation of that period to the 
 growth of the Union. Similarly, the function of each 
 unit within the period must be to contribute to this main 
 
138 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 function. It will be observed in the lessons selected that 
 the subject-matter is organized according to three main 
 divisions: (1) The conditions giving rise to the event, 
 which are subdivided into (a) old conditions and (b) new 
 factors, and these, again, into subdivisions for and against 
 union. The new factor raises the problem. (2) The event 
 which results as an attempt to solve the problem. (3) The 
 success of the solution (in terms of the main problem). 
 This division has one advantage over the conventional di- 
 vision — cause, events, result — in that it focalizes the at- 
 tention upon the problem aspect of history and tends to 
 emphasize the continuous persistence of the problem 
 studied. 
 
 Lesson I. Albany Conference, 1754. 
 
 A. Conditions giving rise to the conference. 
 
 1. . Old conditions. 
 
 (a) Working against union — in general, local inter- 
 ests. 
 
 (1) Eeligious differences — Catholics, Episcopalians, 
 
 Puritans, and Baptists viewed each other 
 with intolerance. 
 
 (2) Political differences. 
 
 i. Town government in the north, county in 
 
 south, and mixed in middle states, 
 ii. Different classes of colonies — royal, charter, 
 and proprietary. 
 
 (3) Social differences. 
 
 i. Holders of large estates in the south, and 
 
 small farmers in the north, 
 ii. Cavalier ideals in south, puritan ideals in 
 north. 
 
METHODS OF SECUKING MOTIVES 139 
 
 iii. Wide differences in wealth and social position 
 
 in south, small differences in north, 
 iv. In south only industry agriculture, in north 
 
 industries varied, both in and outside of 
 
 the home, 
 v. Lack of transportation facilities tended to 
 
 emphasize isolation. 
 
 (b) Working for union — necessity for defense against 
 the French and Indians, for which pur- 
 pose conferences were called, coalitions 
 formed from time to time. 
 
 2. New factor (giving rise to new form of problem) — 
 serious nature of hostility between the col- 
 onies and the French and Indians immedi- 
 ately preceding the French and Indian 
 war, 1754-63. 
 
 B. Albany Conference, 1754. This came as a solution to 
 
 the problem of defense, and was called at 
 the request of the mother country. 
 
 1. Franklin's plan — colonies should combine for 
 
 (a) Defense against incursions. 
 
 (b) Eegulation of Indian affairs, 
 
 (c) Levying of taxes. 
 
 2. Made treaty with the Iroquois. 
 
 C. Success of conference. 
 
 1. Colonies still afraid of loss of independence, looked 
 with indifference upon proposals to com- 
 bine (too much royal prerogative). 
 
140 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 2. British government indifferent because of danger of 
 
 thereby revealing to the colonies their own 
 strength (too democratic). 
 
 3. Brought the idea of union into the realm of practical 
 
 politics. 
 
 Lesson II. The Seven Years' War, 1756-63. 
 
 A. Conditions giving rise to the war. 
 
 1. Old conditions. 
 
 (a) English policy of territorial expansion. 
 
 (b) French policy of territorial expansion. 
 
 2. New factor — giving rise to problem. 
 
 Coalition of England with Frederick the Great be- 
 cause of Hanoverian entanglements, and 
 coalition of French with foes of Frederick 
 — war between Frederick and his foes. 
 
 B. The Seven Years' war (solution of problem of suprem- 
 
 acy — in America). 
 
 1. Campaign against Duquesne — giving key to the west. 
 
 2. Campaign against Louisburg — giving naval control of 
 
 the St. Lawrence. 
 
 3. Campaign against Quebec — giving control of Canada. 
 
 C. Success of the war (in terms of the main problem). 
 
 1. Union was facilitated by 
 
 (a) Active feeling of co-operation among colonies, 
 
 (b) Consciousness of military strength. 
 
 2. Union was retarded bv freedom from invasion. 
 
METHODS OF SECUKING MOTIVES 141 
 
 Lesson III. Stamp Act Congress, 1765. 
 A. Conditions giving rise to the Stamp Act Congress. 
 
 1. Old conditions. 
 
 (a) Factors working for separation. 
 
 (1) As in Lesson 1. 
 
 (2) Freedom from invasion (Lesson 2). 
 
 (b) Factors working for union — as mentioned in C. 1 
 
 in Lesson 2. 
 
 2. New factors — giving rise to problem. 
 
 (a) The mother country began to enforce the policy 
 
 that the colonies exist for the benefit of the 
 mother country. 
 
 (1) Enforcement of Navigation Act, which led to 
 
 (2) Writs of Assistance, 1761, which were obnox- 
 
 ious because subversive of personal liberty. 
 
 (b) Parson's Clause, 1761, an unpopular assertion of 
 
 the royal prerogative. 
 
 (c) Demands on the part of the mother country that 
 
 the colonies help to defray the expenses of 
 the Seven Years' war. 
 
 (1) Difference of opinion — the mother country 
 
 claimed that the war protected the colonies, 
 while the colonies claimed that the war was 
 a part of the mother country's imperial 
 policy. 
 
 (2) Stamp Act — the instrument by which the 
 
 mother country sought to enforce the de- 
 mand. 
 
142 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 (3) Serious objection by the colonies on the ground 
 that there should not be taxation without 
 representation (riots, formation of patri- 
 otic societies, etc.). 
 
 B. Stamp Act Congress, 1765 (an attempt to remedy the 
 
 difficulty) . 
 
 1. Drew up petitions to the king. 
 
 2. Made Declaration of Eights to parliament. 
 
 C. Success (in terms of the main problem). 
 
 1. Colonies act together again for a common pur- 
 
 pose and upon their own initiative. 
 
 2. Colonies gained increasing consciousness of power 
 
 (with repeal of Stamp Act). 
 
 Section 6. A Study of Magazine Advertisements. 
 
 An interesting illustration of the use that advertisers 
 make of these principles may be secured by anyone who 
 will glance through the advertisement section of any popu- 
 lar magazine. The advertisements may be roughly divided 
 into three classes. First, those which lay stress upon pres- 
 ent disagreeableness and present a means for removing it. 
 Second, those which state the advantages that are to be 
 secured by the use of the method of control advertised. 
 Third, those which merely state a business proposition, 
 presupposing the presence of a need, and presenting the 
 method of satisfaction without embellishment. 
 
 Emphasis Upon the Unpleasant. — As instances of the 
 first method we have such statements as these, illustrated 
 frequently by harrowing pictures : "The day's work. What 
 
METHODS OF SECUKING MOTIVES 143 
 
 does it mean for you? The same old grind?" "$100,000,- 
 000 wasted on ads that never pay." "King in, ring out, 
 year in, year out. Do you lose your individuality daily 
 with a 'punch' on the time clock?" "Are your eyes nor- 
 mal ?" "No three o'clock fatigue.". . "Death uses the phone. 
 Suppose a consumptive breathed into your open mouth, 
 etc." "Are you deaf, or with ears failing?" "Why stir 
 up the dust demon with frenzy like this?" Then follows 
 methods of curing these disagreeahlenesses. 
 
 It is interesting to observe that advertisers of wares for 
 which there is not normally a strong demand utilize these 
 forms of approach. For instance, one correspondence 
 school uses it almost exclusively. Medicine advertisers do 
 so notoriously. The fact that the magazine advertisers do 
 not use this method so frequently as the others is ac- 
 counted for, in part, by the fact that it does not pay to 
 advertise in magazines those articles for which there is not 
 an actual or potential need easy to excite. 
 
 Emphasis Upon the Pleasant. — To find illustrations 
 of the second method one need glance at the advertise- 
 ments in only the most cursory way. For instance, "The 
 Young Bride's Ally," reinforced by a charming picture, 
 paves the way for Blank's delicacies. "The Royal Chair — 
 push the button and rest," accompanied by the picture of a 
 rotund gentleman lying in leisurely ease, seeks to awaken 
 in the tired man a desire to buy. "The Strength of Gibral- 
 tar" is well known. 
 
 The Matter of Fact Statement. — Illustrations of the 
 third are found among want advertisements. They are not 
 common in the advertising section. They are much more 
 
144 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 common in the schoolroom. Many teachers feel no neces- 
 sity for showing the child either the advantages of the 
 method or the disadvantages it obviates. Such children 
 have to take the subject-matter whether they want it or 
 not, and whether they see that it has some use or none. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 REVIEW OF PAST EXPERIENCE. 
 
 Section 1. Eeview for Motive. 
 
 The Place of Past Experience. — Without past ex- 
 perience, inherited or acquired, the individual would be 
 absolutely helpless. In certain of the great biological 
 needs it operates as instinct and reflex movements. In all 
 situations similar to those which have been met before it 
 operates as habit. In situations where a new method of 
 control is to be worked out it is the material out of which 
 the new method is evolved. In a more indefinite way it 
 constitutes or modifies temperament, prejudice, and bias. 
 
 Necessity for Review. — Since the foregoing is true 
 past experience is always in use, both in school and out. 
 But there are certain occasions during the recitation where 
 it is necessary, or desirable, for the teacher to have an ex- 
 plicit review of certain facts and activities that the pupils 
 have previously experienced. This is necessary because 
 even though these data may be stored away somewhere in 
 experience they are not, simply because of that fact, abso- 
 lutely sure to be recalled. They may be tucked away in 
 some outer zone of attention, and the appropriate associa- 
 tion may be lacking to recall them to the focus of atten- 
 tion when they are needed. They need to be recalled, re- 
 vived in consciousness, by the teacher in class. 
 
 145 
 
146 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Relevant Past Experience. — It might seem unneces- 
 sary to state that the past experience reviewed by the 
 teacher should be relevant to the problem under considera- 
 tion. It is a matter of simple economy of time and intel- 
 lectual effort to confine the review within those limits. 
 And yet teachers, through neglect or the desire to have 
 some review of past experience because a theory calls for 
 it, often fail to select facts and situations for review which 
 have any logical connection with the problem in hand. 
 
 Two illustrations will suffice. A teacher who conceived 
 the function of Crossing the Bar to be, "To describe a de- 
 sire for a peaceful death" (the correctness of this being 
 immaterial, since we are concerned with the relevancy of 
 his review of past experience), gave the following ques- 
 tions in review of the pupils' past experience : "Have any 
 of you ever seen a harbor? Describe it. Show some pic- 
 tures of a harbor. Describe the tides at the coming in and 
 going out of a ship." This was the whole of the review. 
 To be sure, the terms "harbor" and "tide" are used in the 
 selection and to that extent there is relevancy. But the 
 relevant past experience, as determined by its logical con- 
 nection with the essential features of the poem, would deal 
 with ideas about death, or a review of Tennyson's life, 
 showing how a propos of the closing scenes and emotions 
 of his life the poem is. Again, another teacher dealing 
 with this same poem did review Tennyson's life, but in the 
 following manner: "When was Tennyson born? When 
 did he die? What were his chief works? What other of 
 his poems have you read? Do you like his poems ?" Good 
 facts, to be sure, but what is their relevancy to this poem 
 any more than to any other of his poems? How do they 
 prepare the way for a better understanding or appreciation 
 
KEVIEW OF PAST EXPERIENCES 147 
 
 of the problem he was trying to solve ? In order to make 
 this review valuable those facts, and those only which show 
 the poem's force and naturalness, should be reviewed. 
 
 Review to Secure a Motive. — One reason for a review 
 of past experience is to secure a motive for the study of the 
 lesson in hand. Sometimes immediate interest supplies 
 the motive without the necessity for any review. For in- 
 stance, in the study of poems, the teacher under some cir- 
 cumstances can secure the motive by the mere question, 
 "What is the problem the author is discussing here ?" But 
 under other conditions a review of past experience is neces- 
 sary. For if subject-matter provides the means for the 
 control of values, generic or specific, it frequently happens 
 that the values to be controlled have not been in the focus 
 of the children's attention for some time, and hence may 
 not be appreciated as highly as they might. Then it be- 
 comes necessary to bring them in and to create the con- 
 scious lack of control. 
 
 Illustrations. — For instance, in teaching the rule 
 
 for divisibility by three for the sake of speed in computing, \ 
 it may be advisable to give the children a series of prob- 
 lems in which they work for speed. Then the teacher leads 
 them to see that they are not sufficiently speedy. The rule 
 then follows. 
 
 Or, again, in the situation cited above, the study of 
 Crossing the Bar, if immediate interest is not sufficient, a 
 review of the author's life showing his personal charac- 
 teristics pertinent to the setting of the poem may be made, 
 and the question put, "How do you think such a man 
 would view death?" Or, students old enough to have had 
 thoughts about death may be questioned as to their opin- 
 
148 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 ion upon the subject, and then the statement may be made, 
 "In the poem to be studied Tennyson tells what he thinks 
 death will be like.'" 
 
 Again, in American history, if the value to be controlled 
 be to see how a strong centralized government grew out of 
 the needs of strong local governments, it may be necessary 
 in beginning each lesson to go back to this value and to 
 have it restated so that it may be kept clearly in mind. 
 The condition in which the problem was left at the last 
 lesson, the new factors entering in at this lesson, and the 
 new form which the problem takes because of these, may 
 need to be reviewed in order to make the motive for study- 
 ing this lesson as active as possible. 1 
 
 Section 2. Eeview as an Aid in Solution. 
 
 It is necessary, also, to review past experience in order 
 to bring to mind data that are essential for the solution 
 of the problem raised at the beginning of the lesson. 
 For here again the data may be forgotten, or may never 
 have been known. In this the teacher may save the pupils 
 much loss of time by explicitly bringing the needed data 
 into the focus and thus obviate the necessity of searching 
 for them. 
 
 In this connection two remarks are. necessary. In the 
 first place this searching is good exercise for pupils under 
 some circumstances. When the material may be recalled 
 by the vigorous use of memory, the teacher who assists the 
 pupils to recall it is taking away from them a much needed 
 means of growth. Such efforts at recall make for self-reli- 
 ance and strength. Or, if the material may be found in 
 books easily, the children should be required to find it. 
 
 1 Cf. Chapter 10. 
 
EEVIEW OF PAST EXPEKIENCES 149 
 
 In the second place, it is a mistake to develop too much 
 introductory material in any lesson. That is to say, the 
 solution of the new problem should be near enough to the 
 past experience of the child to make unnecessary the intro- 
 duction of much new data. Long introductions tire the 
 pupil before he comes to the real work. For instance, the 
 phrasing of grammatical rules should not require the de- 
 velopment of many words which are foreign to the pupil's 
 vocabulary. If the rule must be stated in these words, it 
 should not be taught until the pupils have sufficient breadth 
 of scholarship to have met the words in other connections. 
 
 Illustrations. — A few examples will indicate some 
 situations in which this review is advantageous. In the 
 problem, How large will we have to make a bin in order to 
 hold a ton of coal? it may be necessary to review the rela- 
 tion of pounds to volume in connection with coal. If the 
 pupils ought to know it, or if they can easily find it for 
 themselves in their arithmetics, this will not be advisable. 
 In solving the fodder problems given above, the teacher 
 may find it necessary to make an explanation of the 
 devices used in the tables for tabulating the information. 
 In the study of literature the teacher often finds it neces- 
 sary to recall the meanings of words which have been 
 previously studied. The cases where such reviews are 
 advisable are multitudinous in the course of every day's 
 work. 
 
 Section 3. Keview for Functional Connection. 
 
 In Chapter 17 the question of application will be dis- 
 cussed. Without anticipating this later discussion, the 
 following statement will set the problem of this section 
 more clearly before us. When the solution of the problem 
 
150 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 has been reached it is advisable to apply it to other prob- 
 lems of the same type. This is true because each solution 
 is an instrument created for a specific purpose but usable 
 in certain other situations. The more varied the uses to 
 which it is put, the better will be the grasp upon it. 
 
 Now its use or purpose may be exemplified in two places, 
 either when the problem is raised or when the solution has 
 been reached. For instance, it has been said repeatedly 
 that one way of securing a motive is to create a breakdown 
 in control, for then the pupils will see the purpose of the 
 lesson to be studied. At that point functional connection 
 is made with past experience. But frequently the teacher 
 is able to secure the motive by an appeal to immediate in- 
 terest, and then functional connection may not be made at 
 the outset. In this case the method of control worked out 
 may still be used in other situations after it has been 
 learned. Indeed, even when the functional connection is 
 made at the outset, other applications may be made later. 
 But in every case this connection serves as a means for re- 
 calling past experience, and in so far as the teacher in- 
 tends it to be for that purpose it is germane to the discus- 
 sion of this chapter. 
 
 Illustrations. — Whether the pupils learn the rule for 
 divisibility by three because they feel the need of speed 
 for controlling certain generic values or because of imme- 
 diate interest, in either case, after the rule has been learned, 
 it serves as a means for reviewing past experience when it 
 is applied to work which the children have already been 
 doing by the slower method. Again, if the Psalm of Life 
 is studied because of immediate interest, the ideas the 
 pupils have had previously may be called up when appli- 
 cations are made. In studying physics, even when no at- 
 
KEVIEW OF PAST EXPEBIENCES 151 
 
 tempt has been made to provide a motive for study other 
 than those used in connections with all subjects, after any 
 principle has been studied, frequent and wide application 
 may be made to problems that lie within the everyday ex- 
 perience of the students. Similarly, in the study of his- 
 tory, even when no attempt is made to strengthen the 
 motive, application of the principles discovered will serve 
 as a means for calling up past experience. 
 
 Section 4. Eeview of the Previous Lesson. 
 
 Under some circumstances the teacher may feel the need 
 for reviewing the previous day's lesson before beginning 
 the new lesson. This is done wherever drill is necessary in 
 order to fix the facts in mind. It is also done when the new 
 lesson grows out of the old lesson. Such review is prob- 
 ably not necessary when short poems in literature are be- 
 ing studied, and when in such case the poems are not 
 studied for the facts they contain. Each poem being an 
 isolated unit, it may have no functional connection with 
 succeeding units. Likewise, it will not be necessary when 
 pupils are drilled for a number of days in an arithmetical 
 process. For each succeeding day continues the drill, 
 and the whole "new" lesson is a review of the previous 
 day's lesson. 
 
 The Time for Review. — A simple matter of mechanics 
 is involved in answering this question. Should the reviews 
 of past experience be at the beginning, the end, or the 
 middle of the recitation? To facilitate the discussion 
 the reader is asked to glance at Chapter 19 and to observe 
 that the recitation may be divided into Preparation, 
 Development, and Application. Now, review for the sake 
 of motive must, of course, occur in the Preparation. The 
 
152 .METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 review of the previous day's lesson usually occurs at the 
 very beginning of the Preparation. Eeview for functional 
 connection occurs usually in the Application, but may 
 occur in the Development. Eeview for assistance in solu- 
 tion is sometimes put in the Preparation, sometimes at 
 the beginning of Development as an introductory step, 
 and sometimes is introduced wherever it is needed in the 
 Development. It seems advisable to exclude it from 
 the Preparation. But where in the Development it should 
 be placed is a matter of individual preference. Some 
 teachers prefer to clear the ground before beginning the 
 solution; others claim that this procedure gives too much 
 preliminary assistance and indicates too obviously the 
 direction which attempts at solution should take. The 
 experienced teacher who has a mastery of the technique 
 of teaching depends largely upon his feeling of the fitness 
 of the time and place. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 CONTROL OF VALUES. 
 
 Section 1. Psychology of Control. 
 
 Resume. — At this point it may be well to restate the 
 line of development pursued up to the present time. The 
 aim of education is to assist the child to appreciate the 
 values of life and to get control of them. Subject-matter 
 is a means to this end. It is composed of ways of acting 
 which are worked out by experience in increasing control 
 of values when that control is insufficient. It possesses 
 definite structure interdependent with the function. The 
 business of teaching is to make these ways of controlling 
 values accessible to the pupils. Theoretically, the way of 
 acting should be introduced when the pupil is conscious 
 of lack of control. But in so far as the subject-matter 
 directs rather than follows the child there is necessity 
 for securing motives for its study. Among other methods 
 of securing motives to such study there is that of creating 
 situations in which the pupil feels his lack of control, or 
 is conscious of a need for the subject-matter. When the 
 lack or need is felt the problem arises. By this we mean 
 that the intellect turns upon the loss of or failure in con- 
 trol and seeks to find out exactly what is wrong. At this 
 point we are prepared to ask: How may the difficulty 
 be remedied? How may the problem be solved? How 
 may the need be satisfied ? How may control be secured ? 
 
 153 
 
154 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Habit and Control. — In certain cases where control 
 is temporarily lacking, habit is the agency by which it is 
 provided. The familiar situation is the type to which 
 habit ministers. Whenever a familiar sort of control is 
 temporarily lacking, experience turns back upon itself and 
 brings out of its margin certain ways of acting which it has 
 found satisfactory on former occasions. Illustrations of 
 habits in the narrower sense of the term are unnecessary. 
 But a few illustrations of the broader use of the term may 
 be given. Whenever we need to translate a sentence we 
 revert to the paradigm. When we wish to guide our moral 
 actions we recall the ten commandments or other ethical 
 principles. Whenever we wish to use laws to control 
 values we revert to the statute books. Whenever the 
 Presbyterian needs direction in his religious life he may 
 refer for guidance to the Confession of Faith. 
 
 Reasoning and Control. — It is not our purpose to dis- 
 cuss the relation of perception, conception, and judgment 
 to control. It will be sufficient to treat of the two ex- 
 tremes, habit and reasoning, and leave the others which 
 lie between to be worked over by the reader. 
 
 \^ General Statement. — When a situation arises where- 
 in lack of control is recognized, it resolves itself around 
 two foci — the new way to be organized and the material 
 at hand by which the new way is to be organized. That is 
 to say, the mind distinguishes these two phases. These 
 are sometimes referred to as the end and the means, some- 
 times as problem and data. A third phase is that of or- 
 ganizing the data so as to arrive at the new way, and this, 
 too, has two phases — the attempts to arrive at the new way, 
 and its final organization. A fourth phase is the process 
 of verification. Without going into the rather abstruse 
 
CONTKOL OF VALUES 155 
 
 ps} r chologieal relations existing among these phases, which 
 would reveal the inherent unity of the whole process by 
 which the new way is arrived at, we may roughly dis- 
 tinguish five phases of the process of control — problem, 
 data, hypotheses, logical organization, and verification. 
 
 The Problem. — This has already been discussed. The 
 method by which it is raised has been stated above to be 
 that of creating a breakdown in the control of values. Its 
 pedagogical applications are reserved for the next section. 
 
 The Data. — This corresponds to the substance of the 
 term "relevant past experience.'"'' For whenever a new way 
 of acting is to be organized (the solving of the problem) 
 experience falls back upon old ways with which it is fa- 
 miliar and therefore knows how to handle. These are the 
 given things — the data. From all this past experience, 
 that which can be adapted in reorganization for the new 
 purpose is used. 
 
 The Hypothesis. — It does not always happen that a 
 problem is solved at the first attempt. We scrutinize the 
 situation to clarify the problem and to select the data, and 
 then we attempt to organize the data so as to produce a 
 satisfactory solution. Sometimes we fail. Then we make 
 another attempt, which also may fail. This process is 
 continued until the right hypothesis, or plan, develops, and 
 a satisfactory solution results. 
 
 The method by which the hypothesis, or tentative method, 
 is discovered can be stated only in a general way. It de- 
 pends upon association. An hypothesis is a relation 
 among data, of such a nature as to allow them to be organ- 
 ized so as to solve the problem. The relation is often se- 
 
156 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 cured in a haphazard way, by chance. Its discovery de- 
 pends partly upon learning or detailed knowledge of the 
 data, and partly upon sagacity, 1 or native and acquired 
 ability to see just such relations. 
 
 Logical Organization. — The path by which the final 
 and correct method is secured is devious. It twists in this 
 direction and that, leaps ahead, returns upon itself. For, 
 in endeavoring to find the desired relation reason seizes 
 upon each clue available and follows it out until it leads to 
 the truth, or until it is discarded for a clue more promis- 
 ing. However, once the right plan has been discovered, the 
 whole situation is re-examined and reorganized. The data 
 are arranged in such a way as to produce the best organi- 
 zation, which is called a logical organization. 
 
 Verification. — At every stage of development of any 
 method of procedure it is tested to see if it is satisfactory. 
 Different terms are used to indicate this process. Any 
 hypothesis will be accepted if it "works." If we secure 
 control by means of it, it is said to work. Another state- 
 ment is that it "satisfies" us. Another that it is "in har- 
 mony with all the data, none contradicting it." 
 
 Illustration. — This sketchy account of the process 
 by which control of a value is secured may be made clearer 
 by an illustration. Goodyear worked for a decade to find 
 a process by which raw rubber could be utilized for com- 
 mercial purposes. This required that it should not crack 
 in cold weather nor melt in warm weather. The problem 
 arose in his mind when, during a visit to New York to sell 
 a patent for a life preserver, he was told of the great possi- 
 bilities in rubber if it could be made usable. His data were 
 
 Barnes, "Psychology," Vol. II, pp. 343-8. 
 
CONTROL OF VALUES 157 
 
 the whole of his past experience, but particularly a slight 
 knowledge of chemistry and mechanics, and some raw rub- 
 ber. He tried one hypothesis after another. (1) Mechan- 
 ical mixing and kneading (failure) ; (2) mixing magnesia 
 with rubber gum (failure) ; (3) boiling the gum with 
 magnesia in quicklime and water (partial failure, the 
 slightest acid, as apple juice, making the product sticky) ; 
 (4) mixing with aqua fortis (partial success, worked with 
 thin material but not with such heavy material as govern- 
 ment mail bags) ; (5) mechanical mixing with sulphur 
 (partially successful) ; (6) by chance, in showing this 
 latter product to a friend, a piece dropped on the stove, 
 and he found to his surprise that heat had produced the 
 desired qualities. 
 
 It will be observed that some of the hypotheses which 
 failed to produce the complete result provided suggestions 
 for the final process. 
 
 To illustrate the logical organization it may be stated 
 that the inventor prepared a plan for vulcanizing rubber, 
 which omitted many of the failures he had made and in- 
 cluded three things: (1) sulphur and rubber gum, (2) 
 mechanical mixture of these, and (3) heat. He has here 
 organized his control (solution, or way of acting) in his 
 best possible way. 
 
 Verification came when the rubber was subjected to ordi- 
 nary heat and cold and was found still to retain its shape 
 and consistency. 
 
 Section 2. Application to Teaching. 
 
 Original Solution and Text-books. — In solving prob- 
 lems two quite distinct sets of circumstances may be found. 
 In the first place, the pupil may work the problem by his 
 
158 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 own efforts. He may furnish his own data, hypotheses, 
 and solution. Or, in the second place, he may use a text- 
 book or appeal to the teacher, thus having the solution 
 worked for him. In the preceding section we were dealing 
 primarily with the first case. The second case may com- 
 pel us to modify our statement of procedure. The two 
 sets of cases will be discussed in connection with each topic. 
 
 The Problem. — In Chapter 9 we discussed the raising 
 of the problem, and in Chapter 19 this is schematized as 
 belonging to the preparation phase of the lesson plan. But 
 the problem cannot be laid aside when we begin to solve 
 it. For, in the first place, we have still to locate the exact 
 problem. For instance, when an automobile breaks down, 
 the problem is how to get it going again. But imme- 
 diately the mechanic examines the machine to find just 
 exactly what is wrong. He may search in the carbureter, 
 in the battery, or in a hundred other places. 
 
 This process of exactly locating the difficulty some- 
 times takes years. The illustration from Goodyear's ex- 
 periments, given as efforts at finding a satisfactory 
 hypothesis also illustrates this. For ten years he tried to 
 find exactly what was the reason why rubber would not 
 respond to his efforts. The recent investigations in re- 
 gard to yellow fever in Havana show how serious the pur- 
 suit of the difficulty may be. Some investigators and pa- 
 tients lost their lives in trying to find out whether yellow 
 fever was spread by contagion or by mosquitoes. 1 
 
 In school work, it is also necessary to locate the exact 
 difficulty. For instance, when the problem, if 2 boys 
 build a sod house in 3 days how long will it take 4 boys 
 
 1 De Garmo, ' ' Principles of Instruction, ' ' p. 38. 
 
CONTKOL OF VALUES 159 
 
 to build a house? is given, the crucial difficulty is found 
 in the fact that it will take a shorter rather than a longer 
 time. In manual training, when paint will not mix, 
 search must be made for the repelling element. In assign- 
 ments which have been. given, the pupils say, "What does 
 this mean?" thereby seeking to locate the exact problem. 
 When a boy is bad in school, the teacher's problem is to 
 help him to be good. But in doing this the first thing 
 necessary is to find exactly what is wrong with him. Is 
 it nervousness, illness, irresponsibility, or meanness? 
 
 Value to Pupils. — If the pupil is taught to examine 
 his problem carefully to discover just what is wrong, half 
 the intellectual battles of life are won. For the solution 
 in the vast majority of cases follows as soon as the dif- 
 ficulty is located. Doctors say that in most cases their 
 greatest problem is that of diagnosis. If they can find 
 out what is wrong with the patient, treatment often be- 
 comes a minor matter in the case. In so far as the habits 
 and ideals of keen analysis may be carried over into later 
 life, an excellent training in both is secured. 
 
 Pupils should be brought face to face with the analysis 
 of their problems. It is wise to bring them up against 
 the problem, and instead of coaching and guiding them, 
 before they have time to think, it pays to wait in the 
 recitation long enough for them to wrestle a while inde- 
 pendently with it. For instance, the following is an ex- 
 ample of what ought not to be done. A writer says, 
 "To illustrate the method of teaching addition of frac- 
 tions the following examples are given. (It will be under- 
 stood that reduction of fractions has been taught before 
 this subject is reached.) Look at these circles and frac- 
 tions as I hold them before you. How much is A of a 
 
160 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 circle and £ of a circle? f + f? -£+£? £ + |? l + £? 
 
 ¥ + ¥ • T ^ 2 • - L 4^T- J -2 + ¥- 2^8- 2 + 8- T+ 8 • 
 
 i + f ? 2+t? Let us now express in figures the answers 
 you give me ; | + £ = 1; f + i = 1; -]- + £ =| ; etc. Do you 
 see how we added the halves and fourths? How did we 
 add the fourths and eights? Give an example adding 
 halves and fourths, fourths and eighths. Your lesson to- 
 morrow will be these fifty problems on the board (or 
 chart)." 
 
 It would have been more stimulating, more rapid, and 
 less like spoon-feeding for the teacher to have begun thus : 
 2+i; 4+f; i + f> e tc, for review, and then to have put 
 down J + J without other comment than "How do you do 
 this?" Then let them think for awhile. Nine times out 
 of ten they can solve the problem. If not, then give them 
 the circles and say, "Study it out with these." This gives 
 a concrete basis for their thinking. The other minces too 
 much, and leads to the apprehension of a rule rather than 
 of a process. It shows a certain amount of skill on the 
 part of the teacher, but it is deadening to the pupils. Any 
 teacher who does not give pupils a chance to think their 
 problems out is preparing for their rapid elimination from 
 school. 
 
 Series of Problems. — The second reason why the prob- 
 lem cannot be laid aside after its initial raising is that 
 in the vast majority of cases the initial problem differ- 
 entiates into a whole group of subsidiary problems before 
 the solution is finished. They occur in series one after the 
 other, as attention swings from one phase of the initial 
 problem to the other. 
 
 Illustrations. — An illustration may be given of such 
 
CONTROL OF VALUES 161 
 
 a series, coming from child life outside of school, ^he 
 main problem was, "How to establish a church which we 
 and other children would truly like to attend." The fol- 
 lowing series arose : 
 
 (1) "Were other children interested in this? How 
 could we interest the children of our own neighborhood in 
 it? We found that several of them were, that a number 
 of them would come out of curiosity, that a number of 
 them did not like to go to church with the grown-ups, 
 and for one reason or another some ten or twelve promised 
 to come at first. 
 
 (2) "Where and when should we hold services? We 
 interested our parents, and my mother donated a back 
 room upstairs on the condition that we should fix it up. 
 We would hold services Sunday morning, as that seemed 
 to be the most convenient time. 
 
 (3) "What sort of music should we have? We pur- 
 chased an old organ from the parents of one of the chil- 
 dren. How should we pay for it? After careful thought 
 we solved this problem by giving several magic lantern 
 shows at our house, charging a penny admission. 
 
 (4) "Who should be preacher? My brother seemed 
 most fitted on account of his earnestness, his interest, and 
 his being some two years older than the rest of us. 
 
 (5) "Who should be choir and who congregation? A 
 very serious problem. It was decided to alternate, each 
 half should be choir one Sunday and congregation the 
 next. 
 
 (6) "Where should we get our seats? The problem 
 of constructing some rough wooden ones arose, but in- 
 stead we obtained some straight chairs (each one obtained 
 
 1 Quoted from a student 's paper. 
 
162 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 his own seat) and at our house we provided a few for the 
 visitors. 
 
 (7) "Problem of constructing a platform for the min- 
 ister. Each of us helped. Minor problems arose here, 
 such as joining the boards together, width of platform, 
 carpeting, etc. 
 
 (8) "Problem of choosing officers of the church, treas- 
 urer, ushers, etc. This was solved by appointing a com- 
 mittee who should select them. 
 
 (9) "Further problems of maintaining interest in the 
 church, learning to pray 'in public/ of learning hymns, 
 etc., were disposed of in similar ways." 
 
 In school likewise the same process occurs. We find 
 it in such a simple problem in arithmetic as the following: 
 Find the cost of 12 dozen oranges at 50 cents a dozen. 
 The following problems arise : ( 1 ) What is to be found ? 
 Cost of 12 dozen oranges. (2) What is given? (a) 12 
 dozen; (b) 50 cents a dozen. (3) How find the cost? 
 Multiply 12 by 50 cents. (4) How do this? From mul- 
 tiplication fact, 12x50 = 600, cost is $6.00. Again in 
 history, De Garmo says, 1 "For instance, in the case of the 
 frontier the main problem before the class would be to 
 determine the influence of the frontier in American His- 
 tory. About this problem will cluster the gathering of 
 historical facts, the influences that have a causal power, 
 and the various channels through which these causes pro- 
 duce their diverse effects. In other words, the main 
 problem will break up into a number of subsidiary ones, 
 as, for example, what influence had the trapper's frontier 
 upon that of the rancher? What modifying influences 
 had the settlements immediately beyond the 'fall line' 
 
 ^'Processes of Instruction," p. 82. 
 
CONTKOL OF VALUES 163 
 
 upon those below it? How did the frontier regions con- 
 trol legislation for internal improvements? for the dis- 
 tribution of the public domain? for protection to new 
 industries, etc?" 
 
 Here, again, the teacher may help materially by hav- 
 ing the children stop and think. To repeat, one great 
 danger is that the teacher is likely to make the steps so 
 easy and so much alike, that the pupil is busy all the 
 time solving little problems and is never brought face to 
 face with those that baffle him for the time being. It is, 
 of course, just as disastrous never to help him. The only 
 point insisted upon here is that he be left to think for 
 himself for awhile, and then, when he cannot discover 
 the difficulty or find an hypothesis, a hint may be given. 
 
 When reading text-books the same process occurs. Here 
 the pupil, even when he goes to the text to find the solu- 
 tion of his problem, must first locate the problem in the 
 text before he can find the solution. In doing this he is 
 helped by the author, who uses various devices. He may 
 state it in his topic sentences, in chapter headings, or in 
 sub-topics. Sometimes when the author is not thoughtful 
 about these things, the pupil receives a good deal of ex- 
 ercise in searching, or reads without an aim. 
 
 The Data. — While the problem is being determined 
 the data are being collected. In writing themes, for in- 
 stance, many data are collected before the organization is 
 finally made. Usually more data are collected than are 
 used. Here, again, the children should be taught to think 
 out their themes before they begin to write. With older 
 pupils it is a good plan to have them jot down on paper 
 all the things they think will be of use in writing, and 
 then, Avhen they organize the material, that which is 
 
164 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 needed may be selected. By this play of the mind over 
 the whole field in a more or less haphazard way much 
 material that might otherwise be missed will be 
 gathered in. 
 
 In arithmetic problems the data are usually all con- 
 tained in the stated problem. This practically suggests 
 the solution in many cases. To avoid this and to make 
 arithmetic more like life, where the data are not always, 
 perhaps never, nicely labelled for us, some irrelevant data 
 may be inserted, or some of them left out. For instance, 
 questions of this type may be profitably set: Find the 
 cost of building a cubical bin out of 2-inch plank, which 
 will hold 5 tons of coal, at $7.00 a ton, lumber selling at 
 $24.00 per M. In this an irrelevant fact is introduced 
 and some relevant data are lacking. Problems which arise 
 in manual training, gardening, and other perceptual 
 studies furnish both these conditions. 
 
 Sources of Data. — In addition to the data found in 
 
 memory, books may provide data for problems, if the 
 children have easy access to them. Even sixth grade chil- 
 dren are able to consult easy texts for material for which 
 they are looking. The privilege of walking about re- 
 inforces their desire to find more information. 
 
 Finished products provide data, also. When a pupil 
 is about to build a box he may be sent to a finished box 
 to see how it is made. Women frequently get their ideas 
 for making a dress from the examination of other dresses. 
 So, also, when a boy cannot solve a problem he may con- 
 sult another solved problem to see how it is done. (This 
 becomes purely imitative only when the problems are 
 alike.) 
 
 This scrutinv of the finished product produces alert- 
 
CONTEOL OF VALUES 165 
 
 ness of thought and keenness of analysis. Moreover, it 
 is a method of collecting data which is of the utmost value 
 in life. Observation of teaching by teachers, examination 
 of other systems of business by business men, are both 
 examples of this. One of the chief advantages of travel 
 is that data are collected through observation of things 
 as they are found operating. He who has to have some 
 one stand by and explain how a thing is being done, is 
 handicapped to the extent to which his guide is absent or 
 is inefficient. 
 
 When the pupil reads texts to find, not data but the 
 whole solution, he sees the author's data organized in their 
 final form. He does not see the data which the author 
 collected and discarded. 
 
 The Hypothesis. — What has been said concerning the 
 locating of difficulties and the collecting of data holds 
 for the process of forming hypotheses. In brief, that 
 process is this : The teacher should give the pupils time 
 to form hypotheses and attempt solutions, and when they 
 fail, only enough hint should be given to enable them to 
 attack the problem again with vigor. For instance, in 
 pursuance of this plan a popular but rather useless arith- 
 metical problem was presented to a class of juniors in the 
 university who were working on the topics of this chapter. 
 If they had been studying arithmetic, such a problem 
 would not have been given. The problem was selected for 
 its difficulty. "At what time between 5 and 6 o'clock do 
 the hour and minute hands of a clock come together?" 
 A motive was secured by introducing it as an illus- 
 tration of the topic now under discussion. The prob- 
 lem was written on the board, and the request was made 
 to work it. Watches were immediately produced by some, 
 
166 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 and the hands turned around. This plan was soon dis- 
 carded. After four minutes of work nobody had solved 
 it. Individual work was stopped and suggestions were 
 called for. The first suggestion was, "Draw a picture." 
 Then the question was asked, "What data are given?" 
 Keplies, (1) While minute hand goes 60 minute spaces, 
 the hour hand goes 5. (2) Minute hand goes 12 times as 
 fast as hour hand. The teacher stated that the first of 
 these led to an arithmetical solution, the second to an 
 algebraic one. The students were set to work on the prob- 
 lem again. After three minutes, individual work was 
 stopped, and three students reported that they had worked 
 it. Hints were again called for. One student said that 
 the minute hand gained 55 minute spaces in going 60, 
 and that it had 25 spaces to gain. This method was 
 agreed to by the teacher as being on the right track, and 
 individual work was resumed. A few others then reached 
 the correct solution which was then placed on the board 
 in this form : 
 
 Minute hand goes 60 spaces while hour hand goes 5. 
 
 Minute hand gains 55 spaces in going 60. 
 
 Minute hand has to gain 25 spaces. 
 
 .-. Minute hand goes 25/55 of 60 spaces = 27 3/11 
 spaces. 
 
 Time is 5:27 3/11 o'clock. 
 
 The problem was hard for students who had not been 
 working in mathematics for years, and not all secured the 
 answer. But it serves to illustrate the theory that after 
 a problem is stated time should be given to solve it with- 
 out assistance, and that if failure ensues only enough as- 
 sistance should be given to lead in the right direction until 
 the pupil can finally go on and solve it for himself. 
 
CONTROL OF VALUES 167 
 
 lii discovering an hypothesis it is necessary to study the 
 data carefully, weigh the items, relate them, and dis- 
 criminate among them. One after another should be taken 
 up and related to the others and to the problem to see if 
 an idea will pop out from the combination. 
 
 When we read text-books much of this exercise is lost 
 because we are presented with the hypothesis in the form 
 of a solution. In other words, ideas secured from books 
 are not so productive of mental exercise as those which 
 are worked out by the pupil. Therefore, in such subjects 
 as history, care must be taken, when the text is read, to 
 carry on parallel with the text a development which will 
 raise the problems, show the data present in the historical 
 situation, and arrive at a position where it will be seen 
 that what was done was the reasonable thing to do. This 
 can be done in the assignment 1 and in the recitation, when, 
 after or before the facts have been read, they can be 
 thought through and interpreted by the teacher and the 
 class. 
 
 Similarly, in literature, the problem of the selection can 
 be raised, if advisable, before the selection is studied, and 
 discussion carried on as to the solution, after which the 
 author's solution may be taken up. 
 
 Moreover, in reading texts hypotheses are not, with 
 young children, hypotheses in the sense that they are ten- 
 tative. The fact that they are in books establishes their 
 certainty. They are accepted on authority. This weak- 
 ness may be obviated to some degree by the process of 
 verification, to which we shall now turn. 
 
 Verification. — Once a -olution has been reached how 
 are the pupils to know that it is correct? First, in the 
 
 2 Cf. Chapter 18. 
 
1(38 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 exact sciences, it is checked up or proved. The answer is 
 taken, and if the data can be deduced from it, the solution 
 is judged to be right. Second, in manual training, cook- 
 ing, and other perceptual subjects, the solution is correct 
 if it does the work it is intended to do. If the joint is 
 close fitting and strong it is good. If the cake tastes 
 good and looks well the method of cooking is satisfactory. 
 In language, if the audience readily catches the point, the 
 story has been well told. Third, in the less exact and less 
 perceptual fields the solution is said to be correct if noth- 
 ing contradicts it. Fourth, so far as the individual is 
 concerned subjectively, it is correct if it satisfies him. But 
 all these cases may be reduced to a common standard, in 
 line with our fundamental standpoint. Those solutions 
 are adequate for us if they give us a control of values 
 which satisfies us. The pupil will test it by trying it on 
 to see if it works, by seeing if it contradicts no facts, or 
 by checking it up. If it can stand these tests it will 
 satisfy him. Sometimes it satisfies him when he does not 
 submit it to these other objective tests. 
 
 At this point, when the process of control of values is 
 completed, appreciation ensues. When an operation of 
 importance is completed, experience stops and appreciates. 
 We size it up, we enjoy it, if it is satisfactory. And in 
 connection with this thought, the children should be en- 
 couraged in subtle ways to dwell upon a good piece of 
 work for awhile. For, when the work gives complete con- 
 trol the experience is enjoyable, and if it does not give 
 complete control, the dwelling upon it will bring out the 
 defect so that it may be remedied. 
 
 When we read texts, and receive solutions, it is neces- 
 sary to try them on in the same way. They must be 
 
CONTKOL OF VALUES 169 
 
 weighed, thought over, compared with other facts. This 
 is rather easy on the perceptual level, but in abstract fields 
 it requires a higher degree of critical ability than young 
 children possess. 
 
 The question of logical organization will be discussed 
 in Chapter 16. 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 FORMS OF INSTRUCTION. 
 Section 1. "Telling." 
 
 Definition. — "When the teacher "tells" pupils a fact 
 or principle, what he does is to give them a ready made 
 method of control. For instance, when a child does not 
 know how to make a certain stitch in sewing the teacher 
 may say to her, "I will show yon how." In cooking, the 
 teacher may explain and show the pupils how to cook 
 starches. In painting, the pupils may be shown how to 
 hold the brush and how to mix their paints. In arith- 
 metic, the children may be shown the mechanical forms of 
 solution, or they may be given the formula for the area of a 
 circle. In writing, the forms of the letters are given, and 
 in spelling, the order of the letters. In history, facts 
 are told, descriptions given, pictures shown. 
 
 It is evident from a survey of a mass of methods of 
 which these are types, that much has to be given to 
 pupils ready made. ia It is clear that progress is rendered 
 possible by the fact that we may assimilate and turn to 
 our own use certain of the judgments that have been 
 worked out by our predecessors. In this way we profit, 
 not only by our own experience, but also by the experience 
 of others. If this were not the case, each would have to 
 repeat, step by step, the monotonous history of those who 
 had preceded him, subject to the same sources of error 
 
 ' Bagley, "Educative Process," p. 257. 
 
 170 
 
FORMS OF INSTRUCTION 171 
 
 and making all the mistakes and blunders that they had 
 made. But through the organization of experiences in 
 judgment form, the mistakes are gradually eliminated. 
 Each generation inherits from its predecessors innumer- 
 able systems of judgments which represent years, perhaps 
 centuries, of selection and elimination. It is hardly too 
 much to say that, for every fact and principle that sur- 
 vives, a thousand false judgments and erroneous prin- 
 ciples have been eliminated. The former constitute our 
 intellectual heritage; the latter have been forgotten.'' 
 
 Lecturing. — When the teacher uses only this "tell- 
 ing" form of instruction, it is known as lecturing. This 
 is used to a great extent with mature students in col- 
 leges, but almost never in elementary and high schools in 
 regular work. Sometimes on special occasions "talks" are 
 given, or the teacher relates a story. In the primary 
 grades stories are told, but usually only as a basis for other 
 work. 
 
 Text-books. — When teachers follow the text-book 
 slavishly and without criticism we have another form of 
 "telling." Only, instead of the teacher telling the facts, 
 the text-book gives them, and the teacher then tests the 
 children to see if they can remember and restate them. 
 McMurry 1 indicates three ways of using text-books, first, 
 memorizing verbatim; second, memorizing the substance; 
 and third, learning the gist of the substance, and discuss- 
 ing it in class after reading, "so that the ideas in the 
 book may be comprehended and appreciated." 
 
 Advantages of "Telling." — Ready-made methods of 
 control have a large place and great value in education 
 
 1,1 The Method of the Recitation," pp. 120-1. 
 
172 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 and life. When the feet are to be kept dry and warm, 
 ready-made shoes are bought. When the house is to be 
 lighted we turn the switch. When our health is to be 
 improved we get some medicine from the doctor. When 
 we wish to visit a friend we make use of the electric car. 
 When we wish to paint the house we buy prepared paints. 
 When a man desires to appease his hunger he eats the 
 foods prepared in the kitchen or restaurant. These are 
 only a few of all the methods of control that we accept 
 without necessarily understanding them. 
 
 Moreover, they are efficient in giving control, not always 
 perfect control, but they give reasonable satisfaction. 
 Eeady-made shoes keep the feet warm and dry, electric 
 lights illuminate the house, the doctor's medicine helps 
 the patient, the electric car carries us to our destination, 
 the prepared paint beautifies and preserves the house, and 
 the cook's food appeases hunger. 
 
 "Telling" is also in some cases satisfactory. The reason 
 for this is that we can use a method of control in securing 
 what we desire even when the method is ready-made. The 
 forms of letters which are prescribed by convention will 
 convey our meanings better, perhaps, than any we could 
 invent. The same is true of orthographic forms. Eeceipts 
 in domestic science are usually more efficient than those 
 made by pupils by experiment. The facts of history can- 
 not be gained except upon authority. 
 
 Moreover, if we did not use ready-made methods we 
 would be as helpless as the first man, more so, in fact, for 
 he had his ready-made instincts and reflexes suited to his 
 condition to fall back upon. So "telling" in its broader 
 aspect keeps the children from being incompetent. Life 
 is so short that if they do not accept these inheritances 
 
FOEMS OF INSTEUCTION 173 
 
 they will be able to make little advance, will indeed fall 
 far behind the generation which bore them. The wild 
 boys, who have been discovered, are object lessons in lack 
 of control because of dependence upon their own efforts. 
 
 Section 2. Developing Subject-Matter. 
 
 Definition. — In order to discuss satisfactorily the 
 weakness of "telling" it is necessary to explain the de- 
 veloping plan of teaching. By this term we mean that 
 the child is taught not only to use but also to construct 
 the method of control. He does not use a ready-made 
 method. He works it out for himself. 
 
 Constructing the Method. — This has been discussed 
 already. In the last chapter we saw that it consists in 
 locating the exact problem, in gathering data, in dis- 
 covering hypotheses, and in organizing the method into 
 its best possible shape. The pupils start with their prob- 
 lem, they search, experiment, lead off in one direction, 
 then in another, discover relations between facts, go back 
 over the ground again, till finally light dawns and the 
 method is secured. 
 
 Advantages of the Developing Plan.— In the first 
 | place, it assists the memory in retaining the method. This 
 is true because there is a good deal of repetition, because 
 it makes associations at every point of progress, and be- 
 cause attention is keen by virtue of the vigorous working 
 of the mind. 
 
 In the second place, it enables the student to reconstruct 
 the method when memory fails to recall it. If he begins 
 with his old methods, by reorganizing them he may be able 
 to reason the organization out again. To be sure, he may 
 forget these also, but if he has once worked them out he 
 
174 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 is more advantageously situated for reconstructing the 
 method than if he had merely accepted the method, and 
 had not constructed it. 
 
 In the third place, he has a better hold upon it when 
 he uses it. He understands it better and understands bet- 
 ter the uses to which it may be put. The motorman who 
 understands the mechanics of his car is better able to con- 
 trol it than he would be if he had been taught only the 
 way to turn the lever. The scientist who has worked the 
 theory of evolution through for himself will be better able 
 to apply it to problems than will the one who has ac- 
 cepted the theory on authority. For, after all, problems 
 of the same type are not all alike. They differ, at least 
 a little, and when they differ the method has to be. modi- 
 fied. If the student has constructed it, he then can see 
 better how it may be changed, and by being changed be- 
 come more effective. He understands it. 
 
 In the fourth place (in amplification of the last men- 
 tioned advantage), when the method is remembered but 
 fails to work, he can modify it to apply to the special 
 conditions. And herein lies the weakness of the ready- 
 made method. If it is accepted ready-made and breaks 
 down, the user is helpless. But if he understands its 
 construction, he can make it work again. For instance, 
 when a coat does not fit, the customer may be help- 
 less, but the maker can remedy the trouble. If the 
 elective lights go out, the consumer is helpless, but the 
 electrician can set them going again. If the medicine does 
 not restore health, the patient can do nothing, but the doc- 
 tor can re-examine the patient and compound other med- 
 icines that will be more likely to work. When the electric 
 car stops, the passengers sit and wait, but the mechanic 
 
FORMS OF INSTRUCTION 175 
 
 sets it going again. When the food does not satisfy, the 
 cook is the one who can change the method of preparation. 
 In all these cases, the one who understands the method 
 of construction is best able to set things going when some 
 part fails to work. And this ability gives one tremendous 
 advantage in practical life. 
 
 In the fifth place, the habit of thinking things through, 
 of trying and experimenting, is a good one to form. Nor 
 is this to be discounted because of arguments against 
 formal discipline. (For we have identity of procedure and 
 of substance 1 and ideals that do not need to be carried 
 over. 2 ) If the developing plan is carried on in every sub- 
 ject, then, in so far as the subjects are germane to life, 
 there will be with life the closest identity of both pro- 
 cedure and substance. And, if the ideal of understanding 
 is realized in every subject there will be no necessity for 
 carrying them over to other subjects. 
 
 Questioning. — Questioning is the instrument upon 
 which chief reliance is placed in using this method. By 
 questions the teacher raises the problem, assists pupils to 
 gather their data, suggests relations between the data, di- 
 rects the investigation, recalls the pupils from following a 
 wrong lead when they have spent enough time upon it, and 
 puts to them the problem of organization. If questions 
 were not used the children would go off on tangents, or 
 would become discouraged in much of their school work 
 because of not being able to see the relations or to find a 
 way out of difficulty. 
 
 Text-books. — Text-books may aid in the use of the 
 developing plan. For instance, in solving a problem, the 
 
 'Thorndike, "Principles of Teaching," pp. 235-249. 
 -Bagley, "Educative Process," pp. 203-217. 
 
17G METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 children may go to texts for some of the data. In history, 
 when the problem has been discussed in the assignment, 
 and the probable trend of events partially worked out, the 
 text can be well used to furnish data, to verify conclu- 
 sions, and to assist in clearing up ideas. The weakness 
 in using text-books arises when the children do not go to 
 them with a problem, or when they accept the conclusions 
 without thinking them through. (This is discussed more 
 fully in Chapter 18.) But they have their place in the 
 developing plan, if they assist the child in thinking through 
 his method of control. 
 
 Limitations of the Developing Method. — McMurry 1 
 gives three limitations. He says that not everything can 
 be developed; second, that it is an extremely difficult 
 method to follow ; and third, that the intellectual treasures 
 of the past lie locked up in books. 
 
 Not everything can be developed because, in the first 
 place, many methods that the children can use ready-made 
 are too difficult for them to construct. We have to tell 
 them many things for which we cannot explain the rea- 
 son. Excellent foods may be cooked without a knowledge 
 of the chemistry of foods to show why the ingredients act 
 as they do. Historical events are sometimes told to children 
 without the reasons for the events being made evident. In the 
 second place, not everything that might be developed ought 
 to be developed. There is not time to do so. And even 
 though it be true, as McMurry says, that nine-tenths of 
 what is taken up in school is forgotten, it does not follow 
 that only one-tenth of the school work should be covered, 
 and that by the developing method. For undoubtedly some 
 
 1 Op. cit., pp. 142-143. 
 
FORMS OF INSTRUCTION 17? 
 
 of the methods of control that are most useful are such 
 that they can not be developed. 
 
 That the developing method is extremely difficult to 
 follow is undoubtedly true. If the test of efficiency were 
 merely the asking of questions it would be an easy mat- 
 ter, but when the standard is that of giving the children 
 the privilege of doing the experimenting, it is different. 
 For questions may be merely the dress in which "telling" 
 masquerades. Then, again, too many questions make the 
 progress too easy and lead to puerile thinking. (Cf. 
 Chapter 12.) Efficient use of the method does not de- 
 pend upon questions, but upon the character of the ques- 
 tions; upon whether or not they stimulate thought. 
 
 A fourth limitation which McMurry mentions in an- 
 other connection, is that it is open to the danger of wan- 
 dering. The reason for this is that the teacher has tem- 
 porarily to forsake the exact order of logical organization, 
 in order to follow the lead of the children. But if the 
 problem is kept in mind, if the solution to be arrived at 
 is clearly understood by the teacher, this danger will be 
 obviated, in part at least. Then, too, the teacher may 
 think out how he will develop the lesson, and may deter- 
 mine the "pivotal" questions, to use McMurry's phrase. 
 To be sure, he may not follow this sequence 1 because the 
 children may not give the answers he desires. But with 
 increasing skill in teaching he will be able to foresee more 
 accurately; and at the worst, even if he has to discard his 
 development plan, to have thought out some plan will be 
 of assistance in making a new one when required. 
 
 Developing vs. "Telling." — What shall be developed, 
 and what shall be given ready-made? We have no scien- 
 
 1 Compare Chapter 16. 
 
178 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 tific data upon which to base a method of procedure. 
 Any statement made must rest upon an empirical basis. 
 For my own part, it seems reasonable to say that those 
 methods of control which will be the most useful and 
 whose construction is within the power of the children, 
 should be developed. All facts of temporary importance 
 may be "told," unless very easy, and capable of rapid de- 
 velopment. All principles, no matter though they be 
 important, if at the same time their basis is beyond the 
 children's power, may be given ready-made, or delayed 
 till they can be worked out. But all the methods (prin- 
 ciples or facts) which should be in the possession of the 
 pupils because of frequent use, or of fundamental im- 
 portance, and which the pupils can construct for them- 
 selves, may, as just said above, be developed. 
 
 To take a simple illustration from geography. The 
 geographical conditions that make a city great should be 
 developed, but the size of the city must be told. The 
 first is within the power of children who are usually taught 
 the facts, the second is not particularly important, and 
 of course could not be developed since it would necessitate 
 a visit to the city and the counting of its inhabitants. 
 And again, the rules for division by fractions and for 
 the extracting of the square root should not be developed 
 in the eighth grade, the former because too difficult, 
 though important, the latter because both too difficult 
 and unimportant. 
 
 To avoid confusion, it may be said in concluding that 
 both developing and "telling" usually occur in the same 
 lesson. Some data are given by the teacher, some are 
 collected by the pupils, some suggestions are made by the 
 teacher and others by the pupils. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 METHODS OF DEVELOPMENT. 
 
 Section 1. The Field of Induction and Deduction. 
 
 We say commonly that induction leads from the par- 
 ticular to the general, and deduction from the general 
 to the particular. If we seek to give this a functional 
 meaning we may say that both seek methods of control, 
 but that induction seeks to secure control over a number 
 of situations by finding one method that will control them 
 all, while deduction is concerned with the control of one 
 situation which is sought by finding the class to which it 
 belongs and utilizing the method of control common to 
 the class. For instance, one desires to know if all the 
 goods bought from his grocer are up to standard weight. 
 He purchases scales and each parcel is weighed as it ar- 
 rives. After a sufficient number of particular parcels 
 have been tested and none has been found under weight, 
 he may then say, "All the goods bought at this store are 
 correctly weighed." Here is the method of control com- 
 mon to all the class (weights from this grocery store). 
 This process we call induction. Suppose that, after such 
 a conclusion has been reached, a friend should say of a 
 parcel received from that store: "That feels as though 
 it were under weight." If doubt is raised it is imme- 
 diately dispelled by tbe reflection, "No, this store never 
 
 179 
 
180 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 gives under weight." Here the process of deduction is 
 applied. 
 
 Relation of the Two. — The two processes are not 
 distinct in the sense that sometimes we use the one and 
 sometimes the other. They are complementary to each 
 other. The reason why we say that sometimes we are con- 
 cerned with one and sometimes with the other is because 
 we may have two different purposes in view at different 
 times. For instance, when I have weighed a half dozen 
 different parcels and find them all correct in weight, I 
 may not be sure that all the grocer's weights are honest, 
 but I may feel that there is strong probability of it. This 
 is a sort of generalization, not absolutely certain but prob- 
 able. When the next parcel arrives I am then justified 
 in saying without weighing it, "This is probably all right." 
 That is deduction. When' I weigh it and find that it is 
 correct, I may think of my generalization, and its prob- 
 ability will be strengthened. This is induction. Perhaps 
 the meaning of this will be made clearer by saying that 
 both are present implicitly, but that induction is made 
 explicit when a method of control common to several par- 
 ticulars is thought of, and that deduction is made explicit 
 when the control of the particular thing by the common 
 method is thought of. 
 
 Explicit vs. Implicit Elements. — This may be illus- 
 trated in another way. Every particular situation that we 
 control has its general bearing. For instance, every time 
 a pen is used the habit of writing is modified. The ac- 
 cumulated results of this may be seen by gleaning over our 
 writing at the age of six, ten, sixteen, and twenty. Every 
 time we deal with the grocery store and find the weights 
 
METHODS OF DEVELOPMENT 181 
 
 correct, our opinion of the grocer is modified toward 
 greater trust in the honesty of all his weights. Every 
 time an arithmetic problem is solved the processes in- 
 volved are increased in strength and generality of applica- 
 tion. In a similar way our reading modifies our views. 
 A study of a poem has its effect upon our general view 
 of life. 
 
 Moreover, every time a particular situation is controlled 
 by reference to general methods of control it is modified. 
 For instance, when a parcel comes from our honest grocer, 
 as soon as we see it and the name upon it, it is no longer 
 a mere parcel, it is the honest grocer's parcel, and the con- 
 tents are treated quite differently from those of a parcel 
 from a grocer of whose honesty we are not certain. 
 
 But, and herein lies a distinction which is fundamental 
 to our discussion in this chapter, these processes are not 
 always explicit. They may be carried on in the fringe 
 of attention; may influence us unconsciously. They 
 may be merely implicit. When they are made explicit 
 both the particular and the general are in the focus of 
 attention together. When they are there, and when Ave 
 make the particular the end and the general the means, 
 we have deduction. When for the sake of control of 
 particulars we make the general the end and the partic- 
 ulars the data, we have induction. 
 
 The Field of Induction and Deduction. — If it is true 
 that induction and deduction always accompany each 
 other, and if, in addition, they occur in every lesson either 
 explicitly or implicitly, it follows that if we make a dis- 
 tinction between the deductive lesson, the inductive lesson, 
 and those lessons which are neither inductive nor de- 
 
182 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 ductive, we must give some special meaning to the terms. 
 This distinction lies in the explicitness of the relations. 
 It depends upon the conscious content of the pupils' minds. 
 
 We may use the term "inductive lesson" when pupils 
 consciously seek for a general way of controlling a group 
 of particular situations, and explicitly relate each to the 
 other. For instance, when they are trying to see how 
 the adjective makes the meaning of nouns definite, they 
 begin with particular instances and at the end compare 
 these, and in the act of comparison the general truth 
 comes to the surface. In this act of comparison, both 
 particulars and the common relation are brought explicitly 
 into the focus of attention. 
 
 We may use the term "deductive lesson" when the 
 pupils consciously seek to control particulars b) r relating 
 them explicitly to principles upon which they depend. 
 For instance, they reason deductively when they say that 
 this word is an adjective because it makes the meaning 
 of the noun definite, or when they decide that oranges 
 would not grow in Minnesota because of certain principles 
 of climate. 
 
 The Informal Method. — The inductive and the deduc- 
 tive methods of teaching do not seem to cover all the 
 cases. They undoubtedly cover all that are scientific, that 
 explicitly utilize laws, rules, and principles. But they 
 do not cover all of literature, or spelling, or language 
 - work, unless we broaden the meaning of "principle." Just 
 how to teach all poems inductively or deductively is dif- 
 ficult to see. For instance, the children study and appre- 
 ciate Little Jack, Horner without referring it explicitly 
 to any general principles of life, and without making any 
 explicit generalizations about it. Indeed, if we tried to 
 
METHODS OF DEVELOPMENT 183 
 
 do either it would be beyond the depth of first grade 
 children, who nevertheless enjoy it intensely. 
 
 If, then, we use the terms, inductive and deductive 
 methods of teaching only in reference to those situations 
 in which we help the pupils to get control by having them 
 consciously deal with principles in connection with the 
 particulars to which they refer, we may use the term "in- 
 formal" to describe those situations in which the control 
 is secured without the pupils being consciously aware of 
 any principles or using any scientific principles. 
 
 Control. — All of these methods are methods of se- 
 curing control, a topic discussed in Chapter 12. The in- 
 ductive method emphasizes in its data the particular, se- 
 cures its hypothesis by comparison, and the generaliza- 
 tion is the logical organization. The deductive method 
 lays stress in its data upon the principle, secures the 
 hypothesis by comparison, and the inference is its logical 
 organization. The informal method has only particular 
 situations consciously in mind in its data, and reaches a 
 method of control that is considered only as applying to 
 the particular situation. 
 
 Section 2. The Inductive Method. 
 
 The Five Formal Steps. — The Herbartian lesson plan, 
 which is the best statement of the method of induction, 
 has five steps, — preparation, presentation, comparison, gen- 
 eralization, and application. 1 The step of preparation in- 
 cludes the review of past experience, and the statement of 
 the aim; the step of presentation deals with the teaching 
 of particulars; the step of comparison, as its name indi- 
 cates, deals with the comparison of these particulars ; the 
 
 ■C, A. and F. M. McMurry, "The Method of the Eecitatinn. " 
 
184 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 step of generalization states the generalization which is 
 secured by the comparison; and the step of application 
 deals with drill upon this generalization and application to 
 other particulars. These steps we shall discuss briefly 
 from the standpoint elaborated in this text. 
 
 Preparation. — As stated above, the Herbartian prep- 
 aration deals with the review of past experience and the 
 statement of the aim. As was seen in Chapter 11, this 
 review of past experience may be a review either of the 
 previous day's lesson, or a review for the sake of raising 
 the problem of to-day's lesson. It was also stated in Chap- 
 ter 9 that only in those places where dependence was 
 placed on immediate interest could the term "statement 
 of the aim" be used. It was there pointed out that the 
 teacher must often raise a problem, arouse a need, or 
 create a breakdown in control, by reference to other in- 
 terests of the child, and that the mere statement of the 
 aim would not be sufficient in all cases. 
 
 For instance, in studying adjectives, rather than say, 
 "To-day we shall study another part of speech," it is ad- 
 visable to proceed somewhat after this plan. Presuppose 
 that the thing of value in grammar is to see how parts 
 of speech help us to express our ideas more definitely and 
 easily. Suppose the noun has already been described as a 
 word which "stands for a person, place, or thing. A review 
 of the noun will be given to bring its function into the 
 focus of attention. The children may be asked, Why 
 are we studying grammar? The answer will be, To find 
 out all the parts of speech which help us to express our- 
 selves more definitely. Then the teacher may put on the 
 board the sentence, I want the pupil to bring me the book. 
 Then turning to the class he may say, Do this for me. 
 
METHODS OF DEVELOPMENT 185 
 
 The pupils will feel the impossibility of doing as requested. 
 Well, why don't you do it? the teacher may ask. 
 The class will, in substance, answer this : We don't Jcnoiv 
 who is to do it, nor what booh to get. The teacher will 
 add, What must I do to this sentence before you can do 
 what I want you to do? Answer: Add some more words. 
 The teacher may or may not say, Those words will be our 
 lesson for to-day. But in any case, the problem is before 
 them.. They see if they are to get his meaning, something 
 needs to be done to make it more definite. 
 
 Presentation.— In the presentation step the particu- 
 lars are presented. From these the pupils by comparison 
 are to get at the general truth. To that end stress is 
 laid by the teacher in the presentation of each particular 
 upon the element that will be found later to be common to 
 all. 
 
 For instance, in the teaching of the adjective, the lesson 
 may proceed as follows. The teacher writes upon the 
 board, 
 
 I want the pupil to bring me the red booh. 
 
 Teacher — Can you do it? Ans: — No, there are several 
 red boohs. Teacher adds smallest. Can you do it now? 
 Ans. — Yes. An afterthought — But ive don't know who 
 is to do it. Teacher adds - curly-headed to pupil, then 
 writes, blue-eyed, curly-headed pupil, and finally, tallest, 
 blue-eyed, curly-headed pupil, asking after each one, Can 
 you do it now? We will suppose that as the sentence 
 stands, viz., /, want the tallest, blue-eyed, curly-headed 
 pupil to bring me the smallest, red booh, the process of 
 definition has gone far enough to indicate the particular 
 
186 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 child and the particular book. The pupil so indicated 
 brings the book. 
 
 Teacher — Why couldn't you do it before 1 ? Ans. — Not 
 definite enough. Teacher — What words gave definitenessf 
 Ans. — Tallest, blue-eyed, etc. Teacher. — What did they 
 make definite? Ans. — The pupil you meant and the booh 
 you meant. Teacher — Let us make this definite — What 
 did Holiest' make more definite? Ans. — 'Pupil.' Teacher 
 — What did 'smallest' make more definite? Ans. — 'Book,' 
 etc. 
 
 Teacher — Let us take another illustration. I am think- 
 ing of a dog. Writes on the board, It is a small dog. Do 
 you know of what dog I am thinking ? Ans. — No. Teacher 
 — What is wrong with the sentence? Ans. — Not definite 
 enough. Teacher — writes, It is a small, fat dog. Do 
 you know now? Ans. — No. Teacher — writes, It is a 
 small, fat, wheezy dog. Do you know yet? Ans. — No. 
 Teacher — writes, It is a small, fat, wheezy, one-eyed dog. 
 Do you know now? Johnnie holds up his hand. Teacher 
 — Well, Johnnie ? Johnnie — The grocer's dog. Teacher — 
 Right. I saw him when I was coming to school to-day. 
 What was wrong with the first statement? Ans. — It was 
 not definite enough. Teacher — How did I make, it 
 definite? etc., as in the former example. When enough 
 of these have been covered the next step follows. It will 
 be noted that in this, no generalization is made. The 
 children only see that particular objects are made more 
 definite by particular words. 
 
 Comparison. — In this step the common factor in the 
 foregoing particulars is brought out. It may take a very 
 little time. A question starts it, and the children do the 
 comparing. The foregoing lesson may proceed as follows, 
 
METHODS OF DEVELOPMENT 187 
 
 Teacher — Name all the words that were added to make the 
 meaning definite. Ans. — The children give the list. Teacher 
 — What did they make more definite f Ans. — 'Pupil/ 'book/ 
 'dog/ etc. Teacher — What parts of speech do you call the 
 words, 'pupil/ 'book/ 'dog/ etc. Ans. — Nouns. Teacher — 
 Now, who can tell me what part of speech these words 
 make more definite? The next answer should be the 
 generalization. The last question stimulates them to com- 
 plete the comparison. 
 
 Generalization. — In this step the pupils make the 
 generalization. They state the common factor, the rule, 
 definition, or principle. The children's answer in this 
 case is, They all make the noun more definite. Then the 
 teacher may give the name, saying, All words that make 
 nouns more definite are called adjectives. The pupils may 
 be called upon to give the definition, — An adjective is a 
 word that makes a noun more definite in its meaning. 
 
 Application. — In this phase, drill and application 
 take place, subjects to be discussed later in chapter 17. 
 
 In the lesson on adjectives, drill may be carried on as 
 follows : Teacher — What part of speech is 'tallest' f Ans. — 
 An adjective. Teacher — Why ? Ans. — Because it makes the 
 noun 'boy' more definite. (This is an example of deduc- 
 tion.) Teacher — What part of speech is 'curly-headed' ? Ans. 
 — An adjective, etc., etc. The teacher might also ask the 
 pupils to memorize the definition (a good practice), and 
 perhaps in doing so might have them write it out. 
 
 In application the teacher may ask the pupils to com- 
 pose other sentences in which they would try to make 
 their meaning exact in this way. He may also have them 
 collect cases in which they or others do not use enough 
 
188 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 adjectives and so cause people to misunderstand them, 
 and also cases in which they use more adjectives than are 
 necessary. 
 
 Section 3. The Deductive Method. 
 
 When problems are solved by relating them to explicit 
 general principles we have an example of what may be 
 called the deductive method in teaching. Bagley 1 men- 
 tions four phases of the method — data, principles, infer- 
 ence, and verification. Data are the facts with which we 
 start. Principles are the processes governing the solution. 
 Inference is the process of solving, and verification is the 
 testing to see if correct. 
 
 It would seem that the principles (processes upon 
 which the solution depends) are also data in this case. 
 And if such is the case another statement of the phases 
 might be made, — problem, data, hypothesis, solution, and 
 verification. This at least would be consonant with the 
 terminology of chapters 12 and 13. The distinction be- 
 tween induction and deduction is that in induction only 
 particulars are explicit in the data, while in deduction 
 the principle is also explicit in the data. 
 
 Further Examples. — A few examples will indicate 
 the method of utilizing the deductive method. We will 
 take, first, a problem in algebra. The sum of $276 was 
 raised by A, B, and C together; B contributed twice as 
 much as A and $12 more, and C three times as much as 
 B and $12 more. How much did each contribute? 
 
 The data here consist in the facts given in the problem, 
 and in certain general principles already known to the 
 pupils in algebra (otherwise this would not be a deductive 
 lesson) . 
 
 1 "Educative Process," pp. 308-310. 
 
METHODS OF DEVELOPMENT 189 
 
 The problem is to find how much each contributed. 
 The hypothesis which comes after study of the facts in 
 the light of the principles already known is to view this 
 as a simple equation with one unknown (a principle al- 
 ready known, and therefore in the data). A further 
 hypothesis is that it will be simpler to let A's amount be 
 the unit rather than B's or C's. The solution logically 
 organized is the following: 
 
 Let x=A's amount. 
 Then 2x+12=B's amount 
 and 3(2x+12)+12=C's amount. 
 Therefore x+ ( 2x+12 ) +3 ( 2x+12 ) +12=276 
 Expanding, x+2x+12+6x+36+12=276 
 Collecting 9x+60=276 
 9x =216 
 
 x =24=A's amount, 
 2x+12=60=B's amount, 
 3(2x+12)+12=192=C's amount. 
 Partial verification is secured by adding the amounts to 
 see if they equal 276. 
 
 24+60+192=276. 
 
 Arithmetic. — Or take a problem in arithmetic: A 
 young man selling tea on 2f% commission, sent to his 
 employer $875.25 as the net proceeds of one week's sales. 
 What were his average daily sales? 
 
 The data are the facts stated in the problem together 
 with certain principles already learned in calculating 
 commissions and averages. The problem is to find the 
 average daily sales. 
 
 The hypothesis in this case that appears to possess a 
 high degree of probability after study of the facts in the 
 
190 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 light of principles already known, are the facts that com- 
 mission is charged on sales and that averages are deter- 
 mined by dividing the total amount by the number of days. 
 The solution in its final form is as follows: 
 
 100 %=salce. 
 
 2f%=commission. 
 97|%=net proceeds=$875.25. 
 100 %=100/97.25x$875.25=$900=total sales. 
 Sales for 6 days=$900. 
 Average daily sales=l/6 of $900=$150. 
 Verification follows thus : 
 
 $150 
 
 6 $900.00 
 
 $900 24 - 75 
 
 .02f $875.25 
 
 $24.75 
 
 Grammar. — In grammar the following is an example 
 of deductive development. Parse the words in the sen- 
 tence, We came to town to-day. Here the data are com- 
 posed of the facts and rules of grammar which the chil- 
 dren already know. The problem is to interpret the 
 words in terms of these principles. To a certain extent, 
 depending upon the grammatical skill of the pupils, the 
 hypothesis about the relations of the words will be suf- 
 fused with conviction. 
 
 The solution will be as follows: We is a pronoun he- 
 cause it stands for a noun, etc. 
 
 Verification in this case comes chiefly by a further 
 scrutiny of the words to see if an error has been made. 
 It rests much more upon the mere feeling of conviction 
 
METHODS OF DEVELOPMENT 191 
 
 and satisfaction than do algebraic and arithmetical prob- 
 lems, since the solution of these latter can be gone over in 
 reverse order. 
 
 Section 4. The Informal Development. 
 
 For want of a better word we use the term 'informal' 
 to indicate those developments in which no conscious use 
 is made of explicit principles. As said above, it is a mat- 
 ter of course that both induction and deduction are im- 
 plicit in every lesson, but in a great number of lessons 
 we do not refer to them explicitly. Unless the idea of 
 explicit use or formation of principles is used, there can 
 of course be no such thing as inductive as over against 
 deductive lessons. And if the concept of explicitness 
 differentiates them, then there are lessons which do not 
 come under either of these heads. 
 
 A good example of an abortive effort to teach some 
 poems by the inductive method is the teaching of Holmes' 
 Old Ironsides in a recent publication. It seems from a 
 careful study of this poem and its historical context that 
 the author's problem was to save the ship from being dis- 
 mantled. Yet in the Model Lesson referred to, the writer 
 leads the pupils to draw the generalization: "In the life 
 of a nation noble sentiment is a vital force." This, of 
 course, is true, but Holmes had no such lesson to teach. 
 He merely wished to save the ship, a specific problem. 
 He made no attempt to moralize. Nor did Holmes state 
 any principles which would govern the solution. He does 
 not state what was the custom of disposing of historic 
 ships. Nor does he examine particulars to find out what 
 to do with them. The effectiveness of the appeal is built 
 upon the particularity of the pictures. The attention is 
 
192 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 centered upon the ship — the individual. Pride is ap- 
 pealed to, and pity, and a sense of justice. But it is 
 pride in the ship, pity for the ship, and justice toward 
 the ship. His purpose would have been defeated if he had 
 built up his argument by explicit induction or deduction. 
 It would have seemed forced in such a poem. 
 
 When the author makes his excellent preparation by 
 recalling the history of the ship and the occasion which 
 called forth the poem, and develops with such marked 
 literary skill the bearing of the words, the imagery, and 
 the emotions upon the central theme — the preservation 
 of the relic — he should stop. Beyond that point his les- 
 son is no longer a literature lesson, it becomes ethics. 
 Ethics is, of course, worthy of study, but it is claimed, 
 and justly, by literary critics that literature performs its 
 ethical function most effectively by implication. 
 
 In literature at least we cannot always develop lessons 
 either inductively or deductively. Likewise, in much of 
 the work of the early grades, principles are not formu- 
 lated. We must be willing to allow generalizations to 
 grow in part unconsciously. 
 
 On the other hand where induction and deduction give 
 better control, they must be used. Unconsciously gained 
 principles must on proper occasions be brought to the 
 focus of attention, analyzed, and developed. They are the 
 factors which make naive experience scientific. But we 
 must not forget that frequently we do a thing first and 
 search for the reasons afterwards. 
 
 Control. — The procedure in Chapter 12, in discuss- 
 ing control of values, applies to the informal method. One 
 way of defining the field is negative; in all those attempts 
 
METHODS OF DEVELOPMENT 193 
 
 at control where we do not explicitly formulate principles 
 or explicitly deduce methods of control from principles 
 we use the informal method. In a positive way we may 
 state that it is the method that lies nearer to intuitions, 
 to artistic production, and also to those mental states 
 where we do not consciously state the principle which 
 directs us. Principles we have, of course, in every situa- 
 tion, but it sometimes weakens methods of control to over- 
 intellectualize them. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PSYCHOLOGICAL AND LOGICAL ORGANIZATIONS. 
 
 Section 1. Introductory. 
 
 In Chapter 11, two phases of the process of securing 
 a method of control were discussed. It was there stated 
 that reason, after working back and forth seeking for a 
 solution, finally arrives at one and formulates it in as 
 logical a form as it can. For the first of these phases, 
 the tortuous, and uncertain groping and reaching for a 
 solution, the term 'psychological organization' may be 
 used. To the second, the certain, clearly defined, direct 
 formulation of the solution, the term 'logical organization' 
 may be applied. For instance, after many years of experi- 
 menting, Goodyear found the method of vulcanizing rub- 
 ber. The process of experimentation by which he arrived 
 at his method may be called 'psychological.' The process 
 by which he organized his receipt into its best form may 
 be called 'logical.' Again, the process by which Newton 
 arrived at the law of gravitation may be called psycholog- 
 ical. The formulation of the law in its best form as we 
 now have it may be called logical. 
 
 Under some circumstances we are concerned only with 
 the logical organization. For instance, it makes little 
 difference to the tailor how long it took the inventors of 
 the sewing machine to invent it, or how many errors 
 they made before they were able to put it into final shape. 
 
 194 
 
ORGANIZATION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 195 
 
 He is concerned only with the efficiency of the final form. 
 Or again, the reader is less concerned with the growth of 
 the conception of King Lear in Shakespeare's mind than 
 with the efficiency of the tragedy as it stands. The cir- 
 cumstances under which we are concerned only with the 
 logical organization are those in which it is used without 
 being constructed de novo. 
 
 But under other circumstances, viz., those in which we 
 are concerned with the construction of the method of con- 
 trol, we must pay attention to the psychological organiza- 
 tion. And it will be apparent at once that for the teacher, 
 who is helping the child to construct his methods of con- 
 trol, it is of frequent use and of paramount importance. 1 
 
 Section 2. The Daily Lesson. 
 
 In an earlier . chapter the structure of subject-matter 
 was discussed, and at that time it was pointed out that 
 the structure should be logically arranged and in such 
 a way as to fulfill its function. At this point the relation 
 of the logical to the psychological order of the subject- 
 matter may be discussed in connection with the question, 
 —Should the recitation follow, point by point, the logical 
 outline of the day's lesson (the structure) ? 
 
 It is of course impossible to lay down a definite rule. 
 But if the logical outline is followed closely there is little 
 opportunity for any original thinking by the pupil. For 
 if it be true that the adult who first created the outline did 
 so after experimentation, it is evident that a child could 
 not construct it without a similar tortuous method. And 
 hence, if the child is to be allowed the chance to think it 
 
 l For an excellent philosophical discussion of this -whole matter, 
 the reader is referred to Dewey, ' ' The Child and the Curriculum, ' ' 
 University of Chicago Press. 
 
196 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 out for himself, we need not be surprised if the logical 
 outline is not followed. 
 
 Illustration. — The following lesson was organized 
 and taught to a class of second year students in the high 
 school, in order to get a concrete illustration of the fact 
 that in developing a lesson, fairly well organized from the 
 logical standpoint, a teacher may not follow the logical 
 outline step by step, if the pupils are allowed a reason- 
 able amount of initiative and self-direction in attacking 
 the problem. This particular subject-matter is composed 
 of a number of topics which are more or less discon- 
 nected, and do not each grow out of the preceding. 
 
 It was taught at the beginning of a study of English 
 history in order that the students might become acquaint- 
 ed with the geographical conditions of the British Isles, 
 and might get some idea of their outstanding local and 
 international characteristics. The subject-matter to be 
 taught was organized by the teacher in the following rela- 
 tively loose way. 
 
 Function of subject-matter is to solve the following 
 problem: What is the relation between the geographical 
 conditions and the navy, industries, wealth, cities, and 
 national life of the British Isles? 
 
 Structure of subject-matter. The solution is made up 
 of the following contributions: — 
 
 I. Geographical conditions: 
 
 1. Islands (isolated from mainland), — 
 
 a. in size 120,000 sq. mi.= (Missouri and Arkansas). 
 
 b. in population 40 million=( Missouri and Ar- 
 kansas,+35 million). 
 
 c. manv excellent harbors on coast line. 
 
ORGANIZATION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 197 
 
 2. Mountainous in parts and level in parts. 
 
 3. Great deposits of iron and coal close together. 
 
 II. Items affected by geographical conditions: 
 
 1. Navy largest in the world — kept as large as any 
 two others, necessary for protection, — 
 
 a. from invasion — I, 1. 
 
 b. from starvation — I, 1, a, and b. 
 
 c. for shipping — I, 1, c, and II, 2, c, and d. 
 
 2. Industries, — 
 
 a. fishing — I, 1. 
 
 b. agriculture (small for dense population) — I, 2. 
 
 c. shipping (greatest in the world) — I, 1, c, and 
 II, 2, d. 
 
 d. manufacturing (second in quantity only to the 
 United States) great because of shipping facili- 
 ties, low wages, free trade, and skilled workmen, 
 cheap fuel. — I, 1, a, and I, 3. 
 
 3. Wealth greatest per capita in the world. Money 
 invested all over the world — II, 2, c, and d. 
 
 4. Cities — I, 1, c. In England, London and Liverpool ; 
 in Scotland, Glasgow and Edinburgh; in Ireland, 
 Belfast and Dublin. 
 
 5. Nationalities — a. Wales, because of mountains. 
 
 b. Scotland, Lowlands of English 
 origin. Highlands different be- 
 cause of mountains. 
 
 c. England. 
 
 d. Ireland, because of being an 
 island. 
 
 Note. — The numbers after the points in II indicate those points 
 in I which have an influence upon them. 
 
198 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 The following report was given by the teacher: "I 
 kept the outline in mind, but proceeded to let the pupils 
 attack the problem in whatever way occurred to them. 
 After a short conversation about the study of English 
 history and its value for American people, I unrolled the 
 map, and after they had looked at it for a moment gave 
 them the direct problem, 'What are the things that make 
 the history of one nation different from that of another?" 
 I expected to receive two replies, 'The people of the 
 nation,' and 'The geographical conditions.' The pupils 
 gave the second one first, and that being the point I was 
 after I let the other go. I had them illustrate this from 
 any source they could, and they spoke of Spain when 
 discovering America, of Greece, and of China, while I 
 suggested Switzerland. I immediately followed with an- 
 other problem, 'What are the geographical conditions of 
 the British Isles that have affected its history?' I ex- 
 pected to receive the reply, 'Its being an island and iso- 
 lated from the mainland,' but from the previous discus- 
 sion, and I presume from its configuration as shown on 
 the map, one boy said, 'Its good harbors.' This required 
 a pointing out of the harbors, and in connection with 
 them, of the chief cities of the two islands, London, 
 Liverpool, Glasgow, and Belfast, to which I added Edin- 
 burgh and Dublin, the capitals of Scotland and Ireland, 
 because of their future usefulness. This brought up, by 
 some small intervening steps, the question of shipping, 
 as implied in the idea of good harbors, and I gave them 
 a number of facts about the importance of the shipping of 
 England. This line of attack was now exhausted for the 
 purpose of the recitation. 
 
 "Then I returned to the original problem, 'What other 
 
ORGANIZATION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 199 
 
 geographical conditions affect the history of the British 
 Isles?' The answer was, 'The mountains/ and we pro- 
 ceeded to point out that the islands were level in part 
 and mountainous in part. When asked how this affected 
 the history, they saw by lines that were drawn, that the 
 mountains in the west of Great Britain were coterminous 
 with the Welsh nation, and that the mountains in the 
 north were the home of the Highland Scotch, while the 
 level land was populated by the English and Lowland 
 Scotch. It was pointed out that the Cheviot Hills mark 
 a political barrier, although the Lowlanders of Scotland 
 are of the same origin as the people of England. Then, 
 to bring in the Irish nation, I asked, 'What part of the 
 British Isles remains unaccounted for?' whereupon they 
 mentioned Ireland, and explained in terms of the geograph- 
 ical conditions that it is an isolated island. At this point 
 I thought it wise to show them the size of England in 
 terms of Missouri and Arkansas, and to compare the 
 population of these two areas in order to show the den- 
 sity of population of the British Isles. This led me to 
 ask the question, 'How do these people live?' and they 
 replied from general information, 'By manufacturing.' 
 Then I asked, 'Where do they get their fuel?' and we 
 discussed the extent of the coal deposits of England. 
 When the question of raw materials arose the fact was 
 brought out that there is much iron in England, but that 
 the bulk of raw materials is brought from other countries. 
 This re-emphasized the question of the shipping industry. 
 I repeated the question, 'What other industries have they ?' 
 and the students suggested agriculture, but they were of 
 the opinion that since England is so small and the popula- 
 tion so great they would be unable to feed themselves, and 
 
200 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 would therefore be dependent upon other nations, and 
 liable to hard times or even starvation in war. 
 
 "For the moment I forgot the industry of fishing, and 
 returned to the original problem, 'What other geograph- 
 ical conditions would affect its history?' We had secured 
 by direct questions the geographical facts that the islands 
 have excellent harbors, and that they are mountainous 
 in parts and level in parts; we had secured in following 
 out these two lines, the geographical facts of its size and 
 density of population, and of its deposits of iron and 
 coal. The final fact that it is an island and isolated from 
 the mainland, which I supposed they would give first, they 
 had some difficulty in seeing, probably because it was so 
 obvious, so I had to call their attention to it directly. This 
 was done by the question, 'What advantage is it to Eng- 
 land that it is insular ?' and they replied that other nations 
 could not invade it. I pointed out the flaw in this state- 
 ment, viz., that other nations might invade it by the 
 simple expedient of getting ships, whereupon they said 
 that England would not be invaded if she had a navy large 
 enough. We talked about the size of the navy, and when 
 I asked the advantage of a large navy to England, they 
 were able to bring together from the tangle of our dis- 
 cussion up to date, the three facts as given in the outline. 
 
 "At this point the reader will notice by checking up 
 with the outline, that we had covered all the items we had 
 intended to take up, except those relating to fishing and 
 the wealth of England. 
 
 "If the lesson had been left at this point the work 
 would have been covered, because we had seen the relation- 
 ship between the different items and the geographical con- 
 ditions. But while covered it would have been in a rela- 
 
ORGANIZATION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 201 
 
 tively unusable shape because not properly organized. 
 And so our next problem was that of logical organization. 
 We did this by two summaries. First, we made a list of 
 the geographical conditions, and of the mere facts con- 
 cerning the navy, industries, etc. In this summary we 
 brought in the industry of fishing which had been previ- 
 ously left out, as noted above, but did not bring in the facts 
 concerning the wealth of the country, because after all it 
 was related more directly to the industries than to the 
 geographical conditions. In the second summary we took 
 each item contained in division II and related it to the 
 geographical conditions in division I, by the followng type 
 of question, which I had the students frame. 'What 
 geographical conditions affect the nationalities of the 
 British Isles?' 'What conditions affect the navy?' etc. 
 It will be seen that this summary not only related the 
 items of division II to the geographical conditions, but 
 related them to one another. 
 
 "As a home assignment, the students were asked to 
 synopsize the facts as given, in their logical order; and 
 the worth of their work was gauged by their approxima- 
 tion to the logical outline as given in the preceding pages, 
 which the students had not seen. I had intended to ask 
 the following questions, which related to the problems of 
 American conditions, but because of lack of time could not 
 do it in that recitation : 1. Do these facts throw any 
 light upon the reason why the United States thinks it 
 requires a navy? 2. Might we expect the United States 
 to divide itself into a group of separate nations because 
 of geographical conditions? 3. If free trade is good for 
 England, is the United States wise in having a high 
 tariff?" 
 
202 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Suggestions. — The following observations might be 
 made upon this lesson as typical of the teaching of a unit 
 composed of a problem whose solution consists of a number 
 of relatively discrete facts. 
 
 (1) If the pupils are given the maximum of liberty 
 in their attack upon a problem the development of the solu- 
 tion is not likely to follow either the logical outline or the 
 order which the teacher has thought probable, no matter 
 how extended his experience. He cannot foresee what 
 point the students will attack first. By reference to the 
 logical outline it will be seen that the order in which the 
 points were taken up were these : harbors, cities, shipping, 
 mountains, nationalities, size and population, manufactur- 
 ing, shipping, other industries, agriculture, island as iso- 
 lated from mainland, and navy. If the recitation had 
 followed the logical outline it would have been a serious 
 loss to the amount of actual thinking, experimenting and 
 relating that the students were able to put into the lesson. 
 
 (2) For the subject-matter to have its maximum value 
 the recitation cannot be considered complete without a 
 summary in which every part of the structure is related 
 to its function. 
 
 (3) When the student is given the maximum of liberty 
 of attack, the recitation is broken up into a series of 
 problems and each step of the series grows out of the 
 preceding. It will be noted that this recitation returned 
 to the original problem three times, giving three groups 
 of problems. 
 
 (4) The logical outline of the subject-matter is valua- 
 ble for the teacher to use (a) as a standard of solution 
 of the main problem, and (b) to keep him from going too 
 
OEGANIZATION OF SUBJECT-MATTEK 203 
 
 far afield in the recitation. He is held unconsciously or 
 consciously to the main content of the solution. 
 
 (5) In a recitation, no matter how well such discrete 
 subject-matter may be prepared and memorized by the 
 teacher, frequently one part is omitted in the development 
 under the stress of changing points of emphasis. 
 
 (6) In the summary the teacher is justified, while 
 gathering up the subject-matter into a logical organiza- 
 tion, in filling out those points which have been in- 
 advertently omitted. 
 
 (7) In short, if the pupil is to have the maximum of 
 liberty the teacher must be extremely careful not to de- 
 mand in the development the following of a cut-and-dried 
 order of solution. That is secured later in the lesson by 
 means of the summary. 
 
 In view of the fact that the-teacher who does not follow 
 his logical outline in a cut-and-dried way cannot fore- 
 see what order of points the pupils will take, of what 
 should his planning consist? It seems that the best 
 method of procedure for the teacher in preparing 
 the development is to think over all possible difficulties 
 that may arise in the children's getting hold of the sub- 
 ject-matter, and plan out how these will be made clear to 
 them. By doing this he will of course be compelled to 
 work out many difficulties that will never occur, but he 
 will be able to cope with all that do occur. Nor is this an 
 amount of preparation in which the teacher exceeds that 
 of other professional men. One of the greatest lawyers 
 of the country attributes his success to the fact that when 
 studying a case he always worked out all the possible lines 
 of objection so fully that over sixty per cent, of his 
 
204 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 material was never used. But the plan safeguarded him 
 against failure and assured his successes. 
 
 So, likewise, the teacher must anticipate all the diffi- 
 culties, and may, also, work out a probable plan of how 
 the lesson should proceed. This has advantages, especially 
 for a novice ; he is not entirely at sea ; he has some plan to 
 follow. But the teacher should not feel that he must follow 
 this whether occasion warrants or not. The plan should 
 be fluent and easily suited to his pupils' convenience and 
 best work. 
 
 The Summary. — The logical organization is arrived 
 at in the summary. This is always the point at which the 
 pupil is asked to state the main points discussed. It 
 occurs whenever the development has gone far enough to 
 make it desirable. And it is advisable to make it when- 
 ever the children have covered so much material that 
 there is danger of their forgetting. Sometimes one will 
 have summaries at a half dozen points in a recitation, 
 sometimes only at the end. The summary should be made 
 by the pupils unless the lesson has been a very difficult 
 one. In the lesson preceding, the summary was not made 
 till the end. 
 
 Section 3. Incidental and Formulated Study. 
 
 Another question in whose answer the distinction be- 
 tween logical and psychological organization is involved, 
 is this. Should subjects be taught incidentally or in formu- 
 lated courses? For instance, should arithmetic be studied 
 as arithmetic and for its own sake, or should it be studied 
 only when and as it is needed for other subjects ? 
 
ORGANIZATION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 205 
 
 Advantages of the Incidental Method. — The argu- 
 ments in favor of the incidental method are these. First, 
 it provides a strong motive for stud}'. If the pupils in 
 playing a game need facts of addition to help them, they 
 will study them with avidity. Second, it gives a practical 
 motive for study. Pupils will see its practical utility, and 
 hence will get a better hold upon it. Third, it is the 
 common method of learning. In life out of school we 
 commonly clip into this subject or that just as we need 
 it, and to the extent to which we need it. 
 
 Advantages of the Formal Method. — In favor of the 
 logical organization of the subject, it is claimed that we 
 cannot get a good grasp of any subject unless we learn its 
 principles and the inter-relation of its facts with these. 
 For instance, a knowledge of the history of one's native 
 country will not be efficient if it is only dipped into here 
 and there as required in some other connection. What is 
 needed for thorough knowledge is a chronological and 
 topical study of the history from the beginning to the 
 present. We must study history as history, arithmetic as 
 arithmetic, and grammar as grammar in order to get 
 organized knowledge of them. 
 
 But if what we have seen heretofore is true, that in the 
 normal rational process we have both, it follows that there 
 is a place for both the incidental and the formulated 
 studies of subjects in a school curriculum. The incidental 
 study will continue until we reach the point where formu- 
 lation is necessary; for at some point the pupils will have 
 an actual or potential need for it. 
 
 Relation of Each to the Course of Study. — That we 
 recognize this in constructing a course of study is ap- 
 
206 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 parent. For instance, up to the seventh or eighth grades 
 the children have been studying grammar incidentally. 
 They begin at home and they continue at school. The 
 teacher corrects their errors, upon authority. He tells 
 them to say "They are not" instead of "They ain't," "May 
 I?" for "Can I?" etc. Then in the seventh grade, the 
 eighth grade, or in the first year of the high school, we 
 decide empirically that the time has arrived for a logical 
 formulation of grammatical facts. So, also, in history, 
 the children in the first grade are taught about Washing- 
 ton and Lincoln, in the succeeding grades many illustra- 
 tions are drawn from history, and finally at some point 
 the formulated study of history takes place. 
 
 We cannot get along without the incidental study of 
 the facts of a subject. Neither can we get along without 
 its formulated study, if we are to get the most efficient con- 
 trol of it. The serious question to be decided is at what 
 point in the curriculum the formulated study should begin. 
 
 Section 4. Specific Subjects. 
 
 In presenting the facts in any subject the problem 
 emerges again. Should the pupil take them up in their 
 logical order, or in their psychological order? 1 
 
 In those subjects in which a good deal of incidental 
 study has already occurred, the logical order may be fol- 
 lowed. Such is, for instance, the case with history or 
 grammar in the eighth grade. But in those subjects which 
 are relatively new to the pupils, new both as to principles 
 and terminology, the psychological approach can be made 
 with advantage. Two or three illustrations will make this 
 clear. 
 
 *F. Burk, "Genetic vs. Logical Order in Drawing," Peel. Sem., 
 Ill, 296-323. 
 
OEGANIZATION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 207 
 
 Primary Reading. — In primary reading, the logical 
 order is letters, syllables, words, and sentences. But it has 
 been proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that the 
 psychological point of approach is through the word, or 
 better still, through the sentence. Sentences, words, let- 
 ters, syllables, is the order of strongest motivation, but 
 this is not the logical order. 
 
 Geography. — Again, in studying climate in physical 
 geography, the logical order as laid down in one text, is 
 the following. (1) The earth as a Planet. (2) The 
 Atmosphere. (3) Distribution of Temperature. (4) 
 General Circulation of the Atmosphere. (5) Storms. 
 (6) The Moisture of the Atmosphere. (7) Weather and 
 Climate. The teacher may, however, vary this order as 
 follows : 
 
 A. (1) What makes wind blow? This leads to a dis- 
 cussion of temperature and pressure, and the 
 study of the thermometer and barometer. 
 
 (2) What is the prevailing direction of the wind 
 in Columbia? This leads to charting weather 
 reports. 
 
 (3) Why does it blow in these directions? This 
 introduces cyclones, highs and lows, and their 
 size, area, track, etc. This shows that the wind 
 is chiefly from the southwest, and south and 
 west, because the track of the cyclones is north 
 of Columbia, and moves from west to east. 
 
 (4) Where else can we find the directions of wind 
 determined by temperature and pressure ? This 
 leads to the study of planetary winds. 
 
208 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 (5) Why do these winds blow in these directions? 
 This introduces the earth as a planet. 
 
 B. (1) From which direction do the rains usually come 
 in Columbia ? This to be determined by charts. 
 
 (2) Why? This leads to a study of the cause of 
 rain, and the source of moisture. 
 
 (3) What is the cause of other weather phenomena, 
 such as snow, hail, frost, etc.? 
 
 It may be stated that when worked out in detail, these 
 problems embrace about three-fourths of the text, though 
 the order of topics in the text was not followed. Each 
 problem has those topics in the text which bear upon it 
 assigned for reading in connection with it. Then, after 
 this amount of the text has been covered in this desultory 
 way, the class may be turned to the first chapter to go 
 through all the chapters one after the Other for the logical 
 arrangement. 
 
 The advantages of this plan are, first, that a stronger 
 motive is engendered, since both the love of geography and 
 the interest in practical home problems are appealed to. 
 Second, when the pupils take up the text in a logical way, 
 they go over relatively familiar material with a rich, 
 recent content gained by the earlier survey. This method 
 is, I believe, of value in the introduction to many of the 
 new subjects of the high school, such as physics, chemistry, 
 biology, etc. 
 
 The principle of the psychological organization may be 
 illustrated in another way, by means of the facts of the 
 growth of subject-matter. 
 
ORGANIZATION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 209 
 
 Section 5. Growth of Subject- Matter. 
 
 From the time of Eousseau to the present there has 
 been a constant use in pedagogy of the term 'development 
 and growth of the individual.' Froebel and the Herbar- 
 tians used it, and every teacher who has read even a mini- 
 mum of pedagogical literature is acquainted with the idea. 
 
 The idea of growth has not, however, been applied with 
 sufficient emphasis to the different kinds of subject-matter 
 within experience. We speak of the development of the 
 individual, but we do not think as often as we should 
 about the development of each of the subjects by itself 
 within the individual. If such application is made of the 
 term to branches of subject-matter, an interesting and 
 valuable standpoint is obtained. 
 
 The Capital of the Child. — In the first place, just as 
 the individual enters the business world with a certain 
 capital, so he begins the study of any subject with a certain 
 capital of that particular sort. For example, when he 
 begins the study of formal history he has already within 
 his experience a considerable mass of historical subject- 
 matter. If a teacher could take the pains to discover the 
 actual working capital that a pupil possesses, the mass 
 would be found to be rather large. Or, again, we may 
 instance the subject of formal grammar, if it is studied 
 in the higher grades. The pupil probably has every- 
 thing to start with, except the terminology, although 
 this capital is in a very inchoate, incorrect, and indefinite 
 condition. Or, take the study of physics in the high school. 
 The student starts with many notions concerning the 
 relation of force to things that he sees about him. These 
 notions are inexact and indefinite, both in meaning and 
 
210 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 in terminology. But the point is that he has them, and, 
 moreover, that they are his capital, and that in the face 
 of new situations he has nothing but them with which to 
 work. 
 
 Subject-Matter Not Hypodermically Injected. — That 
 
 is to say, and this is the second point, the teacher cannot 
 hypodermically inject new subject-matter into the pupil. 
 The child is at the mercy of what he already knows. He 
 can move forward only in so far as problems of develop- 
 ment emerge within this capital that he has. If they do 
 not arise within this subject-matter the thing which the 
 teacher thinks he is teaching slides off the child's experi- 
 ence like water off the proverbial cluck's back. Each 
 branch of subject-matter grows just as the individual 
 grows, by the development of what he already has. This 
 does not preclude the "introduction" of new material. It 
 simply lays stress upon the fact that the idea introduced 
 gets meaning for the child from whatever reorganizations 
 of experience he makes in order to get control of it. The 
 first time he sees a mountain it means to him no more 
 than he can gain by reorganization of what he already has. 
 In this sense we rather get him to reorganize his experi- 
 ence so that it will approximate to the racial organizations 
 than put into him new subject-matter as we add potatoes 
 to a bin. 
 
 Child Subject-Matter the Focal Point. — In the third 
 
 place, the important factor for the teacher, the one which 
 he should keep in mind, is not the logically arranged text- 
 book but the subject-matter within the experience of the 
 pupil. It is almost an obsession with us who teach, to 
 have the subject-matter we are about to present always in 
 
ORGANIZATION OF SUBJECT-MATTER 211 
 
 the focus of attention, rather than the subject-matter 
 which the pupil already has. Yet if the subject-matter 
 within the pupil grows only by means of problems arising 
 one after another, it is very evident that the condition in 
 which it is situated in his mind and organized within it 
 may be very different from that which we have so nicely 
 •organized within our own minds. It is unfortunate that 
 we cannot get as clear an image of what his problems are 
 as we have of our own, and one deficiency of ours is that 
 the problem of imaging the state of the subject-matter 
 within him is not so seriously attacked by us as it should 
 be. To be sure, the knowledge of his mental content can- 
 not be attained to any complete degree; the value to be 
 gained from attacking this problem is essentially that of 
 securing the right attitude, rather than that of securing 
 any definite picture. 
 
 Historical Growth of Subject-Matter. — To emphasize 
 the fact that subject-matter grows in the individual we 
 can point to the historical organization of subject-matter. 
 We have on record the different types of problems and 
 organizations of subject-matter in the various branches. 
 A study of the history of mathematics shows us that the 
 organizations of the problems which the race has had at 
 different times are very decidedly different in form from 
 our own, but that out of these, by gradual growth, has 
 developed the modern subject-matter. And while it cannot 
 be maintained that the child duplicates the race in the 
 consecutive order of his problems and his resultant organi- 
 zation of subject-matter, a study of the history of different 
 branches of knowledge will illustrate by analogy the fact 
 that the immature child differs very materially and widely 
 from the mature and well-trained teacher, just as the old 
 
912 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 type of problems and their solutions differ from those of 
 modern times. If we could remember that the subject- 
 matter within each individual developed genetically from 
 very crude and simple subject-matter by means of problems 
 which arise within experience, as well as we remember that 
 subject-matter developed historically within the race from 
 very crude beginnings by means of problems which arose 
 within racial experience, we would see more clearly the 
 necessity for intellectual sympathy with children. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 METHODS OF SECUEING EEALNESS. 
 
 If we were able to follow the child slavishly and solve 
 only those problems for him which arise without our 
 manipulation, there would be little need for trying to make 
 situations real. But in the ordinary course of school work, 
 with subject-matter to be presented to the pupils, very 
 frequently great care has to be taken to assure the real- 
 ness of the problems which are to be attacked and of the 
 solutions which are to be arrived at. Under these con- 
 ditions some discussion of the methods by which realness 
 and vividness may be given to the subject-matter is 
 advisable. 
 
 Problems. — One method very frequently discussed is 
 that of making the problem solved by the subject- 
 matter the problem of the pupils. It requires the teacher 
 to search the experience of the child to find things of value 
 in the control of which a breakdown can be made to occur, 
 such that the subject-matter will appear as the remedy. 
 This does not require further elaboration at this point. 
 
 Imagination. — Of the other aids to realness imagina- 
 tion and comparison are chief in importance. (In treat- 
 ing imagination no function of the image except that of 
 making situations more real and vivid will be discussed.) 
 
 The average man does better and more intelligent work, 
 and has clearer and more intelligent opinions upon his 
 
 213 
 
214 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 own work than upon that of an}' other individual. The 
 reason for this is that in his own case he has the facts, 
 the ideas, feelings, etc., with all their associations, at first 
 hand, and easily within his observation; while in thinking 
 upon the plans and work of other people he has to build 
 up in imagination the situation which their work is sup- 
 posed to involve. 
 
 It is also generally conceded that any one can do intelli- 
 gent work in other than his own actual conditions in pro- 
 portion to the truth, clearness, and vividness with which 
 he can build up these other conditions, in his imagination. 
 The Englishman can give better advice to another Eng- 
 lishman than to a' Chinaman. A man is better able to 
 understand other men than he is to understand women. 
 And this for the reason that he can put himself into the 
 exact situation of the person to be understood in the one 
 case better than in the other. 
 
 In school the child is sometimes by necessity removed 
 from the actual situations which he studies. It is im- 
 possible for him to live in Athens with Pericles or in 
 Home with Augustus Cassar. In studying arithmetic he 
 cannot be the grocer, or the banker. In literature he can- 
 not be Macbeth or Hamlet. Because he is removed from 
 the real situation he cannot do as intelligent work as if 
 the conditions were actual. And hence the immense im- 
 portance of making the situations which he studies, be they 
 historical, arithmetical, or literary as real as possible 
 through imagination. 
 
 And, indeed, the child is more capable of such imagina- 
 tive work than is the adult. He is just emerging in the 
 grades from the world in which he actually has to learn 
 to distinguish the real from the imaginary, and without 
 
METHODS OF SECURING EEALNESS 215 
 
 great effort he can be led to reconstruct the historical 
 situation with a good deal of vividness and more or lesd 
 correctness. In arithmetic, it is not hard for him to 
 imagine himself to be a banker charging interest and float- 
 ing stock companies, providing the teacher does his part 
 in supplying inspiration and aids. 
 
 The aids which the teacher has at hand to assist are of 
 four sorts. First, there is comparison of the imagined 
 situation with the pupil's own experiences, secured by first 
 of all advising the pupils to imagine themselves to be in 
 the situation, and then describing it by similarity and con- 
 trast with that with which the teacher knows the children 
 are familiar. 
 
 Second, there are material models, specimens, etc. In 
 illustrating history we may have the actual instruments 
 and clothing used by the people. We may have specimens 
 of work that they did and of the things that they built. 
 When we cannot have these, we may have models of them, 
 models of Grecian houses, models of fortifications, etc. 
 The sand table, well utilized, is one of the best instru- 
 ments at the teacher's disposal (in some cases even as 
 high as the eighth grade) for making the situation real. 
 
 Third, he may utilize pictures, diagrams, maps, and 
 blackboards. Pictures are of great service in geography; 
 diagrams may be used to advantage in arithmetic. It is 
 impossible to teach campaigns in history without the use 
 of maps. (The use of the blackboard is reserved for a 
 separate treatment.) These all in their way tend to make 
 the situation real. Indeed, pictures and models are often 
 better than the actual situation because they center the 
 attention upon the important points, while in the actual 
 situation the attention may not be so centered. 
 
216 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 Fourth, another aid to the teacher is dramatization. 
 This is probably the greatest aid to the imagination. Pic- 
 tures assist somewhat, maps assist in their degree, speci- 
 mens are useful, models give contour, but dramatization 
 gives all these and more. These other aids lack action. 
 They are dead. The imagination has to make them live. 
 Dramatizing a banking house, a grocery store, William 
 Penn and the Indians, gives life and force to what knowl- 
 edge the pupil has. Dramatization assists the imagina- 
 tion most effectively and forms a better skeleton around 
 which the imagination may put the flesh of real life. 
 
 Dramatization. — The advantages of dramatization 
 
 are, first, as just said, that it makes the situation very real, 
 and second, that it gets the child into the habit of seeing 
 things vividly, so that the imagination has through it a 
 high standard set which it will in the absence of dram- 
 atization seek to reach. That is to say, if in early life the 
 child has dramatized much he will get into the habit of 
 imagining things clearly, and in the higher grades, in the 
 high school and in later life, when a situation is put before 
 him meagerly without the vivid dramatic element present, 
 his imagination will have a tendency not to rest content, 
 not to feel comfortable, until the situation has been brought 
 up to the high standard of reality to which it has been 
 accustomed. 
 
 There is always a question for the teacher as to the 
 amount of dramatization that ought to be used in the 
 school. Part of the question can be eliminated if we re- 
 member that the chief reason for the use of dramatization 
 is its capacity for making a situation real. Dramatization, 
 as mere dramatization, ought to occupy a very small space 
 in school life. Therefore, unless it is brought into line 
 
METHODS OF SECUKING EEALNESS 217 
 
 with the problems of the lesson and used as an aid in 
 making them real, it should be rigidly excluded. In the 
 case of valuable dramatization the question remains as to 
 how much there should be in the first grade, and how 
 much should be in the eighth grade. The only light that 
 can be thrown upon the question comes from the fact that 
 in the recitation the child is trying to do something, and 
 that dramatization will assist his imagination to make it 
 more real. Therefore, where the subject-matter needs 
 many aids to make it concrete, or where the child is better 
 able to deal with concrete as over against abstract situa- 
 tions, the dramatization should be used to the greatest 
 extent. Seemingly it is most at home in the earliest 
 grades, for the child is living in the world of imagination ; 
 he thinks concretely and thinks naturally in dramatic 
 form. But in the eighth grade, after a long course of 
 training in taking symbols and making them real by 
 means of the aids already mentioned, he ought to be able 
 to get along with less dramatization, with less verbal 
 description than in the earlier grades. If he is able to 
 realize the situation without the aid of any of these props 
 it is better for him to do so, and if he can do it, it indi- 
 cates that his imagination has grown strong and effective. 
 
 Blackboards. — A separate chapter might be devoted 
 to the use of the blackboard in making situations real. 
 It seems almost as though student teachers were afraid 
 that the blackboard might be worn out or that chalk was 
 expensive. Because of their recognized value, blackboards 
 are put in at great expense by school boards and given a 
 prominent place in the recitation room often to be little 
 utilized by the teacher. If a word is not correctly pro- 
 nounced or if a new word is met, does the student teacher 
 
218 METHODS OP TEACHING 
 
 write it on the board? Earely. If a sentence in history 
 needs explanation and could be explained by a diagram 
 of three lines on the board, would the student teacher use 
 it? Never. He prefers to spend a minute trying to give 
 a hazy idea and even then probably fails. If a difficult 
 lesson is to be developed does the student teacher put the 
 main topics on the board to assist in the summary? 
 Seldom. One would think that the board would be used 
 a great deal in geography, but it is not. 
 
 This is an extreme statement. Conditions are not quite 
 so bad as this ; but they are bad. When one thinks of the 
 increased ease with which so many pupils see relations; 
 of the value our outlines are to ourselves, of the fact that 
 many people think best when they see what they are think- 
 ing about, it makes him wonder why the blackboard is so 
 little used. 
 
 It has been said by some that the blackboard should 
 show at the end of the lesson an epitome of all that has 
 been developed in the recitation. This is extreme, and 
 cannot always be done, especially in such subjects as draw- 
 ing, manual training, music, and, perhaps, reading. And 
 it need not always be true in the case of geography, his- 
 tory, or arithmetic. The end is not the utilization of the 
 blackboard, but the making of the subject-matter clear 
 and real, and if this can be secured most economically 
 without the blackboard there is no reason for using it. But 
 the lessons in which facts are to be collected and organized 
 are few in number where the points should not be written 
 on the board as they are made, or before the end of the 
 lesson. And, moreover, there are very few lessons of any 
 sort which cannot be gotten under better control by the 
 children through the liberal use of this instrument. 
 
METHODS OF SECUKING EEALNESS 219 
 
 Experience. — It has been constantly implied and 
 should now be definitely stated that the material upon 
 which these instruments are used is the past experience. 
 In dramatization, and in the use of pictures, models and 
 specimens, the thing that is being operated upon is the past 
 experience of the child. If I speak in a farming com- 
 munity I use one sort of instrument appealing to the past 
 experience of that group; with city audiences another 
 instrument is used to tap other past experiences. And 
 teachers often fail in making the situation real because 
 the illustrations they prepare so carefully are above the 
 heads or beyond the experience of their pupils. It is the 
 inalienable right of every child to have the educational 
 gospel presented to him in his own tongue. 
 
 Comparison. — Comparison, the other psychological 
 process to be discussed, has two sorts of values. In the 
 -first place, it aids the teacher in making situations clear 
 and vivid, as has been said. The pupil draws from his past 
 experience things similar to those in the situation. For 
 instance, in trying to get a true picture of Wordsworth's 
 Fiddler the pupils are aided materially by being referred, 
 on the one hand, to their own experience with fiddlers on 
 the street, and on the other hand, to the influence of music 
 upon other people, as shown in Browning's Saul, and 
 Dryden's Alexander s Feast. 
 
 This comparison is sometimes called illustration, and 
 sometimes analogy. But of whatever sort, it is of para- 
 mount importance in getting hold of situations in the sense 
 indicated above. The convincing speaker is frequently 
 one with convincing powers of comparison. The teacher 
 has a broader influence, and can get better results if he 
 
220 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 has telling comparisons by which to make his explanations 
 understandable. 
 
 The second value that comparisons have (to be dis- 
 cussed more fully in the next chapter) may be called com- 
 parisons of application. That is to say, after a solution 
 has been reached the process of comparison makes it pos- 
 sible for us to observe relations with other problems so 
 that we may apply the solution to other similar situations. 
 In history, after we have treated of a problem of the 
 ancients, it is legitimate and valuable to refer the problem 
 and its solution to modern life to see if we can find the 
 problem still with us, to find in what respects it differs 
 in form and to what extent the solution of the ancients 
 will fit our conditions. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 DRILL AND APPLICATION. 
 
 Section 1. Subject-Matter as an Instrument. 
 
 The fact that subject-matter is an instrument created for 
 control has further implications. In the first place, it 
 implies skill in use. Development of technique is essen- 
 tially the secret of increase of skill in using instruments 
 intellectual or muscular. In the second place, it implies 
 use in different situations of the same type. The subject- 
 matter worked out to control one situation may be used 
 to control other situations differing in incidental circum- 
 stances, but similar in type. For instance, the Golden 
 Rule studied in Sunday school to explain the character of 
 Jesus, may be used in situations to which it is applicable, 
 during the week outside the church. Ability to use the 
 instrument with skill in many situations of the same type 
 is indicative of high grade efficiency. 
 
 Value of Skill. — One thing that makes a great differ- 
 ence between men is the difference in skill. When com- 
 petition is so keen and men are so plentiful, the margin 
 that separates success from defeat is a very narrow one, 
 and that margin is usually secured by a slight superiority 
 in skill. In running, the victory goes ordinarily to the 
 one who is best trained, and most skillful in the devices 
 of the art, and usually the margin between one contestant 
 
 221 
 
222 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 and another is small. In teaching as well as in the other 
 professions and in business, skill gives one man precedence 
 over another. It has become a trite saying, and therefore 
 an important one, that it does not matter so much what 
 a man can do as how well he can do it. The quickness, the 
 dispatch, the exactness with which he can do a thing must 
 be added to the fact that he can do it at all. Many men 
 can perforin surgical operations, but the man who is the 
 greatest success in surgery is the one who can perform 
 them with the most skill. Many men can play baseball; 
 but the only man who stands out as a success in baseball 
 playing is the one who can play with consummate skill. 
 It would seem, therefore, that skill, in the close compe- 
 tition of life, is absolutely necessary. 
 
 Moreover, skill gives direct satisfaction. To control 
 values is a fundamental desire of experience, but a high 
 degree of control gives greater satisfaction than a lower 
 degree. Moreover, skill gives strength of personality. 
 Strong men are sure of themselves. To be sure of himself 
 one must know that he is able to control a situation. To 
 be able to control a situation, and to know that one is 
 able, are two different things. But unless one is able, 
 there can be no true knowledge of ability. 
 
 If skill is so important in the world at large, it must be 
 made one of the aims of the schoolroom. Not only must 
 the child be able to do the problems in arithmetic, not 
 only must he know his history when he has time to think 
 it out, not only must he be able to draw and to under- 
 stand the procedure in drawing, but he must be rapid and 
 exact in arithmetic, logical and expeditious in his his- 
 tory, artistic and facile in his drawing. 
 
DEILL AND APPLICATION" 223 
 
 Uses of Subject-Matter. — Subject-matter is divided 
 by some writers into three classes, cultural, disciplinary, 
 and instrumental. These divisions may be made the basis 
 for discussion of the uses of subject-matter. But rather 
 than say that there are three classes of subject-matter, we 
 describe the facts more exactly by saying that all subject- 
 matter has three uses : cultural, disciplinary, and instru- 
 mental. By the cultural use of subject-matter we mean its 
 relation to the feelings, interests, biases, temperament, and 
 tendencies, to the richness of life as suggested in the term 
 appreciation of values. By the disciplinary use of sub- 
 ject-matter we mean its relation to the skill and training 
 which is given to the individual in the assimilation of 
 subject-matter. By the instrumental function of subject- 
 matter we refer to the fact that the subject-matter is an 
 instrument which provides control. The cultural concep- 
 tion views it in relation to appreciation, the instrumental 
 in relation to control, and the disciplinary in relation to 
 skill in control. 
 
 For instance, writing may be viewed as cultural in so 
 far as it has a generalized effect upon appreciation of values, 
 i. e., in this case, upon pleasure in writing and upon satis- 
 faction in being able to communicate ideas. It is said 
 to have a disciplinary function when we are thinking of 
 its effect upon the muscles which are employed in writing. 
 It is viewed as instrumental when we think of the ways 
 in which it will enable us to communicate our ideas to 
 others. And just as writing has all three functions, so 
 also does each form of subject-matter possess them all. 
 
 However, while each unit has all three of these uses, 
 it may have one or another strongly marked. For in- 
 stance, "Treasure Island" may leave as a result of its 
 
224 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 study no increased control of the process of writing themes, 
 no greatly increased training of memory or imagination, 
 but it does leave a richer appreciation of life and of stories 
 of adventure. Again, a study of the grammatical rules 
 may not be especially satisfying to a pupil, nor may they 
 train his powers of memory to a noticeable degree, but they 
 are of great use in all linguistic exercises. 
 
 When Shall Drill and Application be Given? — These 
 three distinctions in function provide a means for deter- 
 mining when drill and application should be given by the 
 teacher upon any unit of subject-matter. 
 
 Culture Units. — When the teacher teaches a unit of 
 subject-matter he may view it as chiefly cultural in its use. 
 Tt is of use here and now. It helps the child to get con- 
 trol of this value. It gives him present richness of experi- 
 ence. But it may have little use outside the present. Much 
 of our literature is chiefly cultural. The vast majority 
 of the selections in readers have no definite use outside the 
 satisfaction of present needs. These selections give the 
 child control of these needs, and the control so gained 
 works over into the unanalyzed residuum of the pupil's 
 experience, but it may not be used again in any definite 
 and exact form. It disappears into the unanalyzed values, 
 tendencies, and habits of experience, and leaves behind 
 just such a precipitate as food leaves when it is assimilated. 
 Again, in history, many of the facts and details are of use 
 only for the present; they solve some immediate problem, 
 give some immediate satisfaction, and have then fulfilled 
 the major part of their usefulness. 
 
 Instrumental Units. — But there are many units which 
 will be of uie again and again, and in instances widely 
 
DEILL AND APPLICATION 225 
 
 separated in time. The multiplication facts, and the facts 
 of grammar, are instances. The great fundamental prin- 
 ciples of every subject are predominantly instrumental. 
 In literature many units have, in addition to their cultural 
 value, their instrumental function also strongly present. 
 It is this instrumental use that leads us to memorize them. 
 We want to be able to use them again and again. 
 
 The Disciplinary Function. — We have exercises which 
 look primarily to skill and training. All drill exercises 
 are of that sort. Memorizing is essentially intended to 
 give increased skill. Boys "playing catch" are working 
 for training and skill in throwing and catching a ball. But 
 as was pointed out in Chapter 1, many units produce disci- 
 pline of powers merely as a by-product. 
 
 Conclusion. — Units which have chiefly a cultural 
 value do not need to be drilled upon, for they perform their 
 use at once and sink into experience. Units which have 
 a strong instrumental use, which can be used again and 
 again, need to be so handled as to be retained in definite 
 form in experience for future use. The more likelihood 
 there is of a unit's being used frequentty, the more care 
 should be taken to have it well established in experience. 
 
 Section 2. Application. 
 
 There are two methods of securing skill. One is by 
 drill ; the other is by what is technically known as "appli- 
 cation." By drill is meant the reviewing or repeating of a 
 unit over and over again in the same situation. By appli- 
 cation is meant the use of a unit in a new situation. We 
 drill upon the Golden Eule when we memorize it. We 
 apply the Golden Rule when we use it in the affairs of 
 
226 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 our daily lives. We drill upon weights and measures when 
 we memorize them. We apply them when we work prob- 
 lems involving denominate numbers. 
 
 Its Importance. — No two situations are ever exactly 
 alike psychologically. No moral situation ever has quite 
 its exact duplicate. Every time the "same" history lesson 
 is studied it is a somewhat different lesson. New depths 
 of experience have been added and new factors have en- 
 tered in during the interim. The problem comes up again, 
 but with disturbing elements. The individual who solves 
 a problem one day is a different individual on the suc- 
 ceeding day when he faces the problem again. Hence there 
 must be some modification of solution in every situation. 
 
 On the other hand, however, the situations in which we 
 find ourselves placed may be classified according to types. 
 We have good situations, bad situations, situations involv- 
 ing fractions, decimals, and addition. Other situations 
 may involve eating, meeting friends, care for the sick, and 
 resuscitating the drowning. Still others involve gravita- 
 tion, induction coils, wireless telegraphy, and centrifugal 
 force. Every situation comes under some previously 
 known heading, or, if not, the individual is relatively help- 
 less in confronting it. 
 
 The school can assist the child to handle some typical 
 situation of each of the great and fundamental needs. It 
 is impossible to bring the pupil face to face with every 
 situation that will confront him in life, because, in the first 
 place, they are too numerous, and, in the second place, he 
 changes from year to year. Therefore, in the face of these 
 conditions the school is compelled to attend to the great 
 and fundamental solutions for the great and fundamental 
 
DKILL AND APPLICATION 227 
 
 problems of life, and to the application of these to a few 
 of the situations in which they are involved. 
 
 But while few applications can be studied, in compari- 
 son to the many the child is facing and will face, the study 
 of these few is absolutely necessary. For if the application 
 is not shown or made, the instrument loses its power, be- 
 comes obsolete, and is soon discarded from memory. 
 
 Its Difficulty. — While it is extremely important that 
 applications should be made, it is extremely difficult to 
 make them wisely. The applications of the Golden Rule 
 are difficult to make, no matter how strongly we believe 
 in it. The business man may find it easy to be generous 
 to his family and fail to apply this generosity in dealing 
 with his employees. Teachers know the disappointments 
 that come when students fail to make a perfectly obvious 
 application of a principle to a situation differing ever so 
 slightly from those previously handled. It is a mistake 
 to hold that if students are given principles they can make 
 the applications for themselves. For learning principles 
 is child's play compared with their application. The 
 Golden Kule, again, can be learned and understood by a ten 
 year old child. But we have been 1,900 years learning 
 to apply it, and have not made a success of it yet. 
 
 The first cause of this difficulty is that there are so many 
 other elements in any situation that the type element is 
 obscured. The business man in dealing with his employees 
 fails to see that his problem is one of sympathy for them, 
 because profits, incompetency, and personal dislike may be 
 present, and he cannot get a clear view of the sympathetic 
 element. The sixth grade boy cannot solve his problem 
 because he cannot sec that division is the key to the solu- 
 
228 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 tion. The youth who has learned habits of honesty often 
 fails to be honest with himself, because he fails to see 
 that it is a question of honesty. He may pay attention to 
 rapidly acquired wealth, or to a reputation for shrewd- 
 ness. 
 
 The second cause of this difficulty may be that when the 
 pupil does see the typical problem in the situation he may 
 not be able to make the application; circumstances and 
 conditions may be too hard for him. The situation may be 
 so different from those to which he is accustomed that he 
 cannot make the adaptations of his old methods to handle 
 it. His problem is beyond him. 
 
 Both these cases call for powers partly native and partly 
 acquired. Open-eyed alertness, strength of purpose, and 
 resourcefulness are all necessary. Children differ in abil- 
 ity. "Some children are born long, and some short." 
 Over native ability the teacher has no control. But in so 
 far as these powers may be cultivated, the school has a 
 duty to perform. 
 
 This may be accomplished in part by the teacher who 
 makes the development of these powers part of his aim in 
 teaching. Challenging pupils' set opinions, introducing 
 difficulties, leading them on to absurdities until they are 
 sure of their opinions, will do much if carried on sympa- 
 thetically. 
 
 Applications Set by the Teacher. — Part of the work 
 
 of application may be accomplished by the teacher who 
 sets varied problems, differing externally, but depending 
 upon the principle at issue for solution. The more varied 
 the application, the greater the training. Particularly 
 valuable is it to find problems within the intimate experi- 
 
DRILL AND APPLICATION 229 
 
 ence of the children, which may be solved by principles 
 studied in school. No rules can be laid down for these. 
 Breadth of experience and ability are necessary to find 
 such problems. One of the evils of "feminization of the 
 schools," if there is such a thing, will arise from the fact 
 that women teachers may not know enough about the inner 
 span of a boy's hopes, feelings, and active life to search it 
 for vital situations in which application of school solutions 
 may be made. 
 
 Specifically in school work the teacher of history should 
 seek assiduously for modern problems akin to the ancient 
 problems studied. The teacher of literature will bring 
 home to his pupils the theme of the selection studied. The 
 teacher of arithmetic will find in the practical life of the 
 boy or girl the problems that may be solved by arithmetical 
 principles. And the teacher of language should utilize the 
 forms of language in having the children convey their valu- 
 able experiences. 
 
 Applications Set by the Pupils. — Not less important 
 is the practice of having the children find situations to 
 which the principle will apply. For in the first place, it 
 gives the control of the principle that comes from mastery. 
 To be able to take the principle and handle it gives fa- 
 miliarity therewith and power to utilize. In the second 
 place, it makes the pupil independent of the teacher. He 
 becomes in his crude way an original investigator and a 
 disseminator of knowledge. It appeals to his puzzle in- 
 stinct. His powers are stimulated to search in wider 
 fields. He does not follow, but leads. 
 
 In school, the teacher of history may ask his pupils to 
 find cases in history or modern life where the same prin- 
 
230 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 ciple is involved. In arithmetic the pupils may make up 
 problems. In grammar they may collect instances. In 
 geography they may give problems from the environment 
 of the school. And in all such instances a premium should 
 be placed upon originality. 
 
 Section 3. Drill. 
 
 Drill vs. Application. — Drill differs from application 
 in that it goes back over the same principle again and 
 again until control is secured in one situation, while ap- 
 plication seeks to apply the principle to new situations. 
 
 It is claimed by some that drill is not a necessary school 
 process. It is asserted that if the pupil utilizes the prin- 
 ciple in new situations, sufficient skill will be secured. For 
 instance, it is said that writing exercises, as such, are not 
 necessary; that if children are taught to form the letters 
 they will become sufficiently expert if they merely write 
 the papers and exercises which are involved in the study 
 of arithmetic, history, or geography. Again, following 
 this principle, drill on the multiplication tables is not 
 necessary ; .sufficient control comes from working problems 
 involving multiplication. 
 
 However plausible this theory may be it is not true to 
 life. Outside of school, children and adults drill them- 
 selves. A boy who has just learned to whistle practices for 
 days to the distraction of all within sound of his efforts. 
 Youths will spend hours by a barn-side drilling on a new 
 serve in tennis. Musicians spend years practicing scales 
 Wherever there is a desire for skill in technique there is a 
 necessity for drill. And the greater the desire, the more 
 strenuous the drill. 
 
 So, in school, there is the most urgent necessity for 
 
DEILL AND APPLICATION 231 
 
 memorizing and drill, for review and re-review. And this 
 stands in the greatest need of being emphasized, for in 
 recent years there is a pernicious tendency afloat in peda- 
 gogical literature and practice to the effect that what is 
 needed is that pupils understand what they study rather 
 than that they should memorize it. As if there were any 
 antagonism between reason and memory ! Why has nature 
 given us memories? And why does the popular mind 
 exalt the man of strong powers of memory? Entirely for 
 the reason that memory has such a tremendous place in 
 life that the recognition of its value has become almost 
 an instinct in the race. The theory that what is needed is 
 not facts stored in the memory, but a knowledge of where 
 to find facts when needed is harmful. In ninety-nine per 
 cent of the cases our solutions must be worked out in 
 terms of what we know. We have neither time nor oppor- 
 tunity to rush to books before we arrive at a solution. 
 If we waited to do so, the time for acting might be past. 
 
 But among all the facts acquired only those should be 
 drilled upon which will be used again and again in life. 
 Only the important instrumental units should be memor- 
 ized. In the olden days everything was memorized, noth- 
 ing understood. And then the revulsion came which was 
 voiced in the sentiment, "Reason out everything, memorize 
 nothing." Now we are ready to accept the good from both, 
 to reason out the principles, to select those that are of most 
 utility, and then memorize them, till a glibness ensues 
 that outrivals the glibness of "eenie-meenie-miny-mo." 
 
 Standards of Efficiency. — The standard of efficiency 
 remains the same throughout the succeeding grades, viz., 
 as great efficiency as the pupil is capable of. If tables are 
 to be learned thev should be learned as thoroughly as pos- 
 
232 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 sible. If poetry is to be memorized, it should be made as 
 nearly letter perfect as possible. Speed should be insisted 
 upon up to the limit of capability. Facts should be learned 
 definitely, names should be memorized correctly and fa- 
 miliarly, and speech should be as fluent as is possible. 
 Stumbling reading, indefinite facts, sluggish tables make 
 for inefficiency. At some point there is a maximum of 
 speed and accuracy, where accuracy is not sacrificed to 
 speed nor speed to accuracy, and upon this point the 
 teacher fixes his gaze. 
 
 Intellectual Memory. — The factors in memorizing are 
 the following: First, concentration of attention upon the 
 thing to be learned. Second, repetition. As Bagley puts 
 it, memorizing comes by "focalization plus drill in at- 
 tention.'' Third, persistence in unaided efforts to recall. 
 Probably half the inefficiency in memory can be traced to 
 the fact that the student gives up too soon in trying to 
 recall a forgotten fact. He either turns to the book for 
 it, or ceases to think about it. In either case he is not 
 giving his memory the assistance it deserves. 
 
 Motive for Drill. — One problem before us throughout 
 has been that of securing motives. In this connection it 
 emerges again. How shall we secure a motive for drill? 
 That much drill is dead and deadening is a matter of com- 
 mon observation. Some teachers claim that we should so 
 sugar-coat drill that the pupils will be made to do it with- 
 out recognizing it. But this is not true to life. Children 
 enjoy repetition outside of school ; why not in school ? 
 
 For a motive for drill we may go, first, to the pupils' 
 love for drill upon those things which appeal to their im- 
 mediate interest. For drill upon other things we may go, 
 
DKILL AND APPLICATION 233 
 
 in the second place, to our oft-repeated principle of break- 
 down in control. For pupils will drill upon those things 
 for which they see drill is necessary in order to secure 
 efficient control of other things which they feel to be of 
 value. In other words, a motive for drill is found when in 
 pursuing work more drill is felt to be necessary. 
 
 Illustrations of this are numerous. A group of pupils 
 intent upon playing a game and adding up their scores 
 to see who is the winner raise a clamor to the teacher for 
 drill in addition to keep the game from standing still. A 
 football team after a stinging defeat "gets down to busi- 
 ness," as the coach expresses it. A boy who cannot find 
 out how much it will cost him to make a hotbed because of 
 lack of speed in lumber measures is in a receptive state for 
 drill. Students in high school who have trouble with sec- 
 ond-year German because of weakness with grammatical 
 rules feel the need for drill upon the first year forms. , 
 
 Preparatory Drill. — A query arises : Since pupils 
 undertake drill with so much greater spirit when they 
 feel the need for it, ought any drill be given before situ- 
 ations actually arise in which they see the need ? It would 
 seem at first glance that the answer would be in the nega- 
 tive. But since the motive is the thing we are after, it is 
 possible to secure it by bringing the students to see that 
 the principle will be used frequently, and that a little drill 
 now will save trouble later. This is true to life. We look 
 ahead and prepare for the future. 
 
 But two remarks are necessary : In the -first place, chil- 
 dren do not have the foresight of adults, and too much 
 drill before a necessity for it is seen is deadening. In the 
 second place, the teacher may create simple situations 
 
23-1 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 which make them feel the need. Talks on saving time, 
 problems dependent upon speed, may be found to lighten 
 a prolonged period of drill, such as is required, for in- 
 stance, in arithmetic. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ASSIGNMENT. 
 
 Nature of the Assignment. — The assignment and the 
 study of the assignment are in many respects similar to 
 the recitation. In making the assignment problems are 
 raised and more or less assistance given in solving them. 
 In the study of the assignment the solutions are expected 
 to be completed without further assistance by the teacher. 
 These two differ from the recitation in the relatively 
 smaller amount of assistance given in the study of the as- 
 signment. The study of the assignment is, therefore, more 
 difficult than the recitation. Being more difficult, it re- 
 quires more expert preliminary assistance from the teacher. 
 
 The methods and degree of assistance to be given can be 
 discussed to advantage by considering the various types of 
 assignment. 
 
 Old and New Work. — Sometimes the assignment is 
 an application of the work of the day. For instance, 
 after a rule in grammar or a principle in arithmetic has 
 been gained by the pupils the assignment may consist 
 partly of a drill upon the work covered, and partly of a 
 series of problems whose solution depends upon the prin- 
 ciple of the lesson. In Chapter 15, at the end of the type 
 lesson, some assignment questions in history are given. 
 In assignments of this sort, if the work is well chosen, 
 no more time need be taken than is necessary to desig- 
 
 235 
 
236 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 nate the problems of the text or for writing them down 
 in note books (if not in the text). In case there are, how- 
 ever, any points that will give unnecessary trouble these 
 should be explained by the teacher. 
 
 Sometimes the assignment is upon a new lesson. In this 
 case time has to be taken to create the need, or at least to 
 set clearly and definitely before the pupils the problem 
 to be investigated. Time has also to be taken to develop 
 the solution far enough for the pupils to carry it on un- 
 aided. Sometimes this may require half the lesson period; 
 frequently two or three minutes is enough. The method 
 of raising the problem or of developing the solution has 
 already been discussed, and needs no further illustration 
 here. 1 
 
 Assignments of Greater and Less Difficulty. — The 
 
 assignment most difficult for the student to handle is that 
 in which he is made conscious of neither the problem nor 
 its solution. "Take for your next lesson to page — ," is an 
 illustration. This presupposes that the pupil can both dis- 
 cover the problems solved by the author and understand 
 the solution. The danger in such an assignment is that 
 the children will read only isolated sentences and ideas, 
 and will be able to recall only those which accidentally 
 stick in the memory. They are very likely to get no per- 
 spective of facts. Or, to put it in our familiar phraseol- 
 ogy, they will not be likely to see what problem the author 
 is attempting to solve. 
 
 *In all eases, every child who uses text-books and has study- 
 assignments that are not left written on the blackboard and 
 studied in the class room, should have an assignment note book, 
 for it is evident that oral assignments will be often misunder- 
 stood or forgotten by the time the pupils begin to study them. 
 
ASSIGNMENT 237 
 
 This sort of assignment is the ideal toward which we 
 should work. But it is doubtful if students can handle 
 it successfully even in the high school. Instructors fre- 
 quently find college students unable to handle it efficiently. 
 
 That mature students cannot use it successfully does not 
 prove that it is too difficult. It points rather to the fact 
 that we teachers are prone to use this type of assignment 
 to the exclusion of all others. We do not use easier meth- 
 ods of assignment first, and by using these easier forms 
 teach the children how to study text-books. 
 
 A second and easier form of assignment is that in which 
 the problems are raised in class and their solutions worked 
 out by the pupils unassisted. This is relatively easy in 
 literature. Instead of merely assigning Excelsior (Chap- 
 ter 6) the following problems (questions) may be given. 
 
 (1) Collect all the phrases in the poem which describe 
 the boy. 
 
 (2) Why do you think he kept going on? 
 
 (3) Find the meanings of all the words you do not 
 understand; (or, Find the meanings of the following 
 words ). 
 
 It may be explained parenthetically that questions given 
 should be as few in number as will bring out the gist of 
 the problem. Many questions waste valuable time in copy- 
 ing. Few questions should be given that can be answered 
 by yes or no. The first question given above would insure 
 the careful reading of the poem, the second question gives 
 the theme of the poem (solution of the problem) in so far 
 as the pupils can grasp it. With older pupils a fourth 
 question might be added. (4) This is an allegory; explain 
 what the bov and what each scene stands for. Or this last 
 
238 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 question might, in such case, be substituted for (2) above. 
 
 In the history lessons in chapter 10, assignments may 
 be made as follows, according to the outlines there given: 
 
 Lesson 1. — (1) What conditions up to this time made 
 for union? (2) What against union? (3) What new 
 factor entered that affected the situation? (4) What did 
 the Albany Conference do that affected union? 
 
 Lesson 2. — (1) State the long standing conditions that 
 led to the Seven Years' War. (2) State the immediate 
 cause. (3) Outline the main lines of campaign in Amer- 
 ica. (4) What effect did this have upon the movement 
 toward union ? 
 
 Lesson 3. — (1) What were the new conditions that led 
 to the Stamp Act Congress? (2) What did it do? (3) 
 What effect did this have upon union ? 
 
 A third and still easier form of assignment is that in 
 which the problems are set and some assistance in the solu- 
 tion given. The amount of assistance to be given is deter- 
 mined by the relation between the difficulty of the assign- 
 ment to the ability of the pupils. If these are equal, no 
 assistance is necessary ; if the pupils' ability is not equal 
 to the difficulty, enough assistance must be given to make 
 the terms equal. 
 
 For instance, in the assignment above, on Excelsior, in 
 connection with the fourth question the teacher may find 
 it necessary to tell the pupils that the poem represents the 
 efforts of ambitious youth to realize its purpose in life, and 
 may then substitute for the question as given, the follow- 
 ing, "What does each scene stand for?" Or the teacher 
 may have to go over the poem rapidly in class, explaining 
 the meaning of words sufficientlv to enable the children 
 
ASSIGNMENT 239 
 
 to get some fairly definite idea of the poem before the 
 assignment for study is completed. 
 
 In the first history lesson given above (Chapter 10) the 
 teacher may find it advisable to state that the serious nature 
 of the French and Indian incursions made it now advisable 
 for the colonies to combine for defense, that they met at 
 Albany in 1754, and that there Franklin introduced a com- 
 prehensive plan that was not accepted, but which was of 
 importance because of its effect upon the movement toward 
 union. Then the questions given on a preceding page may 
 be introduced, and with text in hand the teacher may 
 indicate points to which particular attention should be 
 paid. 
 
 The point to be insisted upon again is that the teacher 
 should gauge the difficulty of the assignment by the ability 
 of the children. Perhaps the teacher will have to use the 
 latter form for months, and perhaps with a particular class 
 will never be able to assign by the first form during the 
 whole year. But the teacher should not rest content with 
 the simpler forms. Progress should be continually aimed 
 at. We do not wish to break the spirit of the child by diffi- 
 culties too great for him to master, nor to dwarf him by 
 simplicity which does not use his powers sufficiently. 
 
 Problems of Immediate and Mediate Interest. — An- 
 other concept that helps us to understand the problems of 
 assignment is immediacy of interest. In Excelsior we pre- 
 supposed that the children would be interested in the poem 
 for its own sake. Should this not be the case, we would 
 have to consider its function for the author or for the 
 child, depending upon the pupils' maturity. Suppose the 
 pupils were mature enough to appreciate the author's func- 
 tion, but were not likely to be interested in the poem for 
 
240 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 its own sake. Then we would have to find a situation in 
 which they would realize their lack of control of some 
 value. This might be done as follows. First, have a chat 
 about the value of ambition to young people, getting illus- 
 trations of success because of it, and failure because of 
 the lack of it. Then the teacher may follow with the 
 questions, How ambitious should we be? Should one 
 leave one's home and go somewhere else because of his am- 
 bition? Should he endanger his health because of it? 
 Should he be willing to undergo hardship? Should he 
 stop going to church ? Questions of this sort rapidly given 
 and rapidly discussed, will bring out differences of opinion, 
 and will not consume much time, if properly guided. Then 
 the teacher may make the assignment: Take the poem 
 Excelsior, which describes what one ambitious boy did. In 
 doing so : 
 
 (1) Collect all the expressions that show his ambition. 
 
 (2) Find what things he gave up. 
 
 (3) Was he justified ? 
 
 In the history lesson given above we have gone on the 
 supposition that the problems of the new lessons were of 
 interest not because of themselves alone, but because of 
 their relation to the main problem of the historical sequence. 
 
 In conclusion it is re-iterated that the assignment should 
 be made as definite as is economical of the children's effort. 
 Topic assignments should usually be made, even in the 
 high school, and frequently with the exact page for each 
 topic mentioned. The assignment, "Take from page — 
 to page — ," should never be given unless the teacher is 
 sure that the class is strong and equal to it. 
 
CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 THE LESSON PLAN. 
 
 Section 1. The Writing of Lesson Plans. 
 
 The most perplexing problem that confronts the practice 
 teacher in the preparation of lesson plans is that of plac- 
 ing in a written form the things he wants to do in teaching 
 a lesson. It is one thing to have a lesson plan; it is quite 
 another thing to write one. 
 
 Yet the difficulties are chiefly mechanical, and arise from 
 the fact that each thing to be done has to be put some- 
 ivhere. Students worry over whether a particular thing to 
 be done should be classed under preparation or develop- 
 ment, under development or application. For instance, 
 should the review of past experience be put in the prepara- 
 tion or the development? Or should the reading of a 
 literature lesson be placed under application or develop- 
 ment? 
 
 As a matter of fact, it makes little difference what we 
 call anything to be done, provided we do it at the right 
 time. Hence, McMurry 1 is wise in presenting a lesson 
 plan which does not have the different phases marked off 
 by lines. And in the same spirit of not introducing too 
 many technicalities, the critic teacher is wise in laying- 
 down few rules in regard to the written form. If the 
 
 '"The Method of the Recitation, » ' pp. 329-332. 
 
 241 
 
242 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 practice teacher shows that he has obeyed the principles 
 of teaching in his lesson plan, he may be excused from 
 ^lavish adherence to any set form. 
 
 Methods of Alleviating Drudgery. — The written les- 
 son plan is the heaviest cross of practice teachers. This 
 is due to the mechanical difficulties just mentioned, and 
 to the drudgery of writing it out in legible form for the 
 critic teacher. The critic teacher views it with hardly less 
 dread than the practice teacher, for it means laborious 
 monotony day and night. On the other hand, it protects 
 the pupils from glaring errors in subject-matter and 
 method. Writing the plan out makes the student think it 
 out more exactly, and, in some cases where the student- 
 teacher is inclined to slight his work, the written plan 
 serves as a check against neglect. 
 
 How to alleviate this drudgery is an important question. 
 The following plan is suggested. For purposes of expla- 
 nation, let us group the practice teachers in three divisions, 
 strong, medium, and indifferent. For the indifferent stu- 
 dents there is no recourse except the writing of daily les- 
 son plans, full and complete, as a check upon their care- 
 lessness. For the others let us suppose that they are to 
 teach twelve weeks. Eequire full lesson plans from every- 
 body for a week. For two weeks at critic meeting take 
 up the question of subject-matter, and nothing else. Then 
 have the student teachers hand in plans in which subject- 
 matter is worked out carefully, and do not ask for a state- 
 ment of method. Since we have already eliminated the 
 indifferent the critic teacher knows that even though the 
 student does not write his method, he is thinking it out 
 from day to day. As the weeks go on require the students 
 to hand in subject-matter plans until there is confidence 
 
THE LESSON PLAN 243 
 
 that they can organize it satisfactorily, and then there is 
 no reason why they should not be excused from handing 
 this in, though of course they will still work it out care- 
 fully for themselves. The strong students can be excused 
 by this arrangement. 
 
 After spending a couple of weeks on subject-matter in 
 critic meetings, the preparation phase may be discussed 
 at a meeting or two, and during that time the students 
 should hand in plans particularly full on this phase. 
 When the teacher is sure that they can apply the principles 
 reasonably well they may be excused from handing in the 
 plans. Then proceed to the principles of realness, or 
 solution of problems, or whatever else is needed, one at a 
 time, and expect particular attention to be paid to each till 
 fairly well mastered. 
 
 This plan lightens the work of the critic teacher in these 
 respects. The strong practice teachers can be excused from 
 writing full lesson plans, the medium teachers can be ex- 
 cused from those parts in which they are strong. And the 
 fact that they will be excused from the written work as 
 soon as the teacher has confidence in their ability to handle 
 it will raise the tone of the preparation of the whole class, 
 strong, medium, and negligent. 
 
 In so far as the practice teacher never grows strong 
 enough to be trusted in any of the work, there seems to 
 be no practical way to get rid of this drudgery. 
 
 Section 2. The Form of the Lesson Plan. 
 
 In this concluding chapter it is advisable to gather the 
 principles discussed into a definite form of lesson plan. 
 The following is presented as a convenient form in which 
 
244 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 to embody the principles of teaching, but is not advocated 
 as the only form which may be used to embody them. 
 
 A Form of the Lesson Plan. 
 
 A. Logical Division, or, Subject-Matter. 
 
 1. Function. 
 
 2. Structure. 
 
 B. Pedagogical Division, or, Method. 
 
 (Teacher's Aim.) 
 
 1. Preparation. 
 
 2. Development. 
 
 Presentation. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 Generalization. 
 
 3. Application. 
 
 (Assignment.) 
 
 Logical Division. — In this division the subject-matter 
 is to be studied without any explicit attention to method 
 of teaching it. By function is meant the intrinsic func- 
 tion or purpose for which the particular unit of subject- 
 matter under consideration has been created by the race or 
 is to be used by the pupils (Chapter 3). The function is 
 found by asking the question, "For what is this unit in- 
 tended?" In accepting the answer for himself the teacher 
 should bear in mind the remarks on page 47. By structure 
 is meant that organization of the subject-matter which 
 shows how the function is realized. Attention in this, 
 which is in reality an outline, must be paid not only to the 
 parts of the subject-matter but particularly to the relation 
 of each part to the central purpose of all the parts 
 (Chapter 5). 
 
THE LESSON PLAN 245 
 
 The term Logical Division is intended to lay emphasis 
 upon the fact, that the most logical, most convenient, and 
 most efficient organization is to be made. The structure 
 should represent the summary which the children might 
 give when required to do so (Chapter 15). In the logical 
 division the teacher may place all the problems of appli- 
 cation which are to be given to the pupils. If the assign- 
 ment is to be upon new material (Chapter 17), the func- 
 tion and structure of the assigned lesson may be given in 
 enough detail to show the method of the assignment, when 
 the critic teacher so desires. 
 
 Pedagogical Division. — If the teacher has in mind 
 any results of which the pupils are not to be made con- 
 scious and if these are different from those in every lesson 
 in the same subject (because of emphasis on a particular 
 point or for any other reasons), these may be stated at 
 the beginning of the pedagogical division under the term 
 Teacher's Aim. If there is nothing different from the 
 usual aims in view, there need be no such sub-topic. 
 
 In the preparation, the primary thing is to raise the 
 problem, or need, or to make active the motive for study- 
 ing the subject-matter outlined in the logical division 
 (Chapters 8, 9, and 10). In such case, when the problem 
 has been raised, the pupils should state it in their own 
 terms. If the teacher relies upon immediate interest, then 
 he should state the problem, or aim, to be discussed in 
 concrete form, and should require the pupils to state it in 
 their own words (p. 118). If a specific review of any past 
 experience is to be conducted it may be placed in the 
 preparation providing it is used to raise the problem or 
 to review the previous day's lesson. If it is to be used in 
 
246 METHODS OF TEACHING 
 
 solving the problem it should be placed in the development 
 imase (Chapter 11). 
 
 In the development phase the problem is to be solved, 
 the need satisfied, or control secured. Here are found the 
 methods of assistance which the teacher will use in helping 
 the students in their efforts (Chapter 12). When the 
 pupils' conscious problem is that of securing a generaliza- 
 tion, a rule, or a principle, the development phase may be 
 analyzed into presentation, comparison, and generalization, 
 as found in the Five Formal Steps of the Herbartian Plan. 
 In all other cases they are not to be used (Chapter 14). 
 Comparison, however, is to be used continually (Chapter 
 16). 
 
 Summaries occur wherever there is need for the gather- 
 ing up of a logical statement. The teacher in developing 
 the lesson will not necessarily follow the structure of the 
 logical division (Chapter 15). The development is a state- 
 ment of the ways and methods used to arrive at the struc- 
 ture of the logical division. 
 
 The Application phase takes cognizance of two sorts of 
 procedure, drill and application (Chapter 17), which should 
 not necessarily be left till the last of the lesson. They 
 should occur wherever they are needed. 
 
 The Assignment is of two sorts. There may be an 
 assignment as an application of the principles already 
 learned, or as preparation of new material. In the former 
 case it corresponds to the aplication phase and is governed 
 by its principles. In the latter case it corresponds to the 
 preparation and development phases, and is governed by 
 their principles. That is to say, when new material is 
 assigned, the problem should be raised, and all necessary 
 
THE LESSON PLAN 247 
 
 assistance for working out the solution should be given 
 when the assignment is made (Chapter 18). 
 
 The principles of realness are to be observed in all 
 phases of the lesson (Chapter 16). 
 
 It may be said in conclusion that the reason why we 
 speak of three phases rather than three stages of the peda- 
 gogical division is that each is a phase or an aspect of an 
 organic unity. For we can easily find in the arousing of 
 needs both application of past experience and increased 
 control. In the securing of control new problems arise 
 and applications of previous experience are made. More- 
 over every application made is a new problem solved, the 
 solution of which gives added control. Each separate phase 
 is isolated for the sake of analysis, but it must be recog- 
 nized as being at the same time organically related to the 
 others. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Active motives, 116. 
 Addition, function and struc- 
 ture in, 76. 
 and motive, 135. 
 Adjectives, intrinsic function 
 of, 57. 
 lesson on, 184. 
 Aim of education, 9. 
 characteristics, 9. 
 multiplicity of, 9. 
 relativity of, 1U. 
 requisites of, 12. 
 distinctions in meanings of, 
 
 13. 
 society's view of, 13. 
 individual aspect of, 14. 
 methodological statement of, 
 
 16. 
 statement of aim utilized in 
 text, 17. 
 Albany Conference, 138. 
 Alexander, Carter, 129. 
 Algebra, deductive method in, 
 
 188 
 Angell, J. R., 28, 110. 
 Apperception, 31, 93, 226. 
 Application, drill and, 221. 
 its importance, 226. 
 its difficulty, 227. 
 set by teacher, 228. 
 set by pupils, 229. 
 vs. drill, 230. 
 phase of lesson plan, 187. 
 Appreciation of values, 18. 
 Arithmetic, as way of acting, 
 24. 
 organization of solutions in, 
 64, 65. 
 
 function and structure in, 76, 
 
 82, 
 and data, 164. 
 deductive method of develop- 
 ing, 189. 
 methods of securing motives 
 
 for, 126, 134. 
 review for motive, 147. 
 review for solution, 149. 
 review for functional connec- 
 tion, 150. 
 - series of problems in, 162. 
 
 what to develop, 178. 
 Assignment, 235. 
 nature of, 2337^ 
 of old and new work, 235. 
 of greater and less difficulty, 
 
 236. 
 of immediate and mediate in- 
 terest, 239. 
 as a phase of the Lesson 
 Plan, 246. 
 Attention and motive, 106. 
 Audience and motive, 133. 
 
 in composition, 128. 
 Author, function of subject- 
 matter for the, 36. 
 
 Bagley, W. C, 9, 35, 170, 175. 
 Benefits of Commerce, 7. 
 Blackboards as means of secur- 
 ing realness, 217. 
 Bourne, H. E., 34. 
 Burk, F., 206. 
 
 Chamberlain, A. F., 26. 
 Chemistry, specific and tonic 
 function of, 38. 
 
 249 
 
250 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Children's church, 161. 
 Children's meanings as ways 
 
 of acting, 26. 
 Comparison, as means to real- 
 ness, 219. 
 as phase of Lesson Plan, 246. 
 Conscious, pupils' aim as, 14, 
 15. 
 aim, 42. 
 problems, 43. 
 needs, 44. 
 values, 18. 
 Consciousness and motive, 101. 
 Content of experience, of 
 teacher and pupil contrast- 
 ed, 91. 
 Control of values, 19. 
 Control, subject matter and, 
 33. 
 interest and, 113. 
 psychology of, 153. 
 habit and, 153. 
 reasoning and, 154. 
 and problem, 154, 
 and method of development, 
 183, 192. 
 Cooking, verification in, 168. 
 Crossing the Bar, as a way of 
 thinking and feeling, 24. 
 as reorganization, 30. 
 and motive for its study, 147. 
 
 Daily lesson, 195. 
 Data, 154, 163. 
 
 sources of, 164. 
 Decorative function of sub- 
 ject-matter, 37. 
 Deductive method, field of, 
 179. 
 relation to induction, 180. 
 examples of, 188. 
 De Garmo, Chas., 158, 162. 
 Denominate numbers as ways 
 of acting, 24. 
 function and structure of, 
 76. 
 Description and motive, 129. 
 Developing method, 173, 
 
 definition, 173. 
 
 advantages of, 174. 
 
 and questioning, 175. 
 
 and text-books, 175. 
 
 limitations of, 176. 
 
 vs. ' ' telling. ' ' 
 Development phase of Lesson 
 
 Plan, 246. 
 Dewey, John, 107, 117, 196. 
 Disciplinary function of sub- 
 ject-matter, 37. 
 Division as a way of acting, 24. 
 Dramatization and realness, 
 
 216. 
 Drawing, 206. 
 Drill, relation to skill, 221. 
 
 and motive, 134. 
 
 and application, 221. 
 
 and standards of efficiency, 
 231. 
 
 and memory, 232. 
 
 motive for, 232. 
 
 preparatory, 233. 
 
 and application, when given, 
 224. 
 
 End and means, subject-matter 
 
 as, 45. 
 Excelsior, as a way of acting, 
 24. 
 author's function for, 39. 
 teacher's function for, 40. 
 pupil 's function for, 40. 
 intrinsic function and struc- 
 ture of, 85. 
 assignments in, 237. 
 
 Five formal steps, 183. 
 
 preparation, 184. 
 
 presentation, 185. 
 
 comparison, 186. 
 
 generalization, 187. 
 Focal points and motives, 101. 
 Forms of instruction, 170. 
 
 "telling," 170. 
 
 developing, 173. 
 
 lecturing, 171. 
 
 text-book, 171. 
 
INDEX 
 
 2ol 
 
 Function, distinctions in mean- 
 ing of, 34. 
 
 intrinsic, 35. 
 
 device for finding, 67. 
 
 indirect, 36. 
 
 specific and tonic, 37. 
 
 for author, pupil and teacher, 
 39. 
 Function and structure of sub- 
 ject-matter, 
 
 illustrations, 74. 
 
 hygiene, 74. 
 
 literature, 75, 85. 
 
 arithmetic, 76, 82. 
 
 spelling, 84. 
 
 English history, 79. 
 
 theme writing, 81. 
 
 geography, 84. 
 
 relativity of, 74, 79, 82. 
 
 Generalization phase of Lesson 
 
 Plan, 187. 
 Geography, intrinsic function 
 of, 61. 
 function and structure of a 
 
 unit of, 84. 
 psychological and logical or- 
 ganization in, 207. 
 content of children's minds 
 
 beginning, 91. 
 motive for study of, 119. 
 what to develop, 178. 
 Goodyear, Charles, 156. 
 Grammar, intrinsic function of, 
 56. 
 psychological and logical or- 
 ganization in, 207. 
 inductive method of develop- 
 ing, 184. 
 deductive method of develop- 
 ing, 190. 
 Growth of subject-matter, 209. 
 in the child, 209. 
 in the race, 211. 
 
 Habit and control, 154. 
 Hall, G. S., 91. 
 
 Hamlet, as a way of acting, 
 24. 
 function of, 45. 
 Herbartian lesson plan, 183. 
 History, functions of, 34, 46. 
 59, 66. 
 function of English, 79. 
 methods of securing motives 
 
 for, 137. 
 psychological and logical or- 
 ganization in, 196. 
 assignments in, 238. 
 and civics, value of, 34. 
 as end, 59. 
 as means, 46, 59. 
 American, motive for study, 
 
 148. 
 series of problems in, 162. 
 Hygiene, function and structure 
 
 of a unit of, 71. 
 Hypothesis, 165. 
 
 Imagination, as means to real- 
 ness, 213. 
 aids to, 213. 
 Incidental work in arithmetic, 
 134. 
 and formulated study, 204. 
 advantages of each, 205. 
 relation to course of study, 
 205. " 
 
 Indirect function, 36. 
 
 classes of, 37. 
 Inductive method, field of, 179. 
 definition, 183. 
 relation to deduction, 180. 
 criticism of, 180. 
 and Five Formal Steps, 183. 
 Informal method of develop- 
 ment, 182, 191. 
 Institutions as ways of acting, 
 
 25. 
 Instrumental nature of subject- 
 matter, 223. 
 Interest, immediate, 105. 
 
 reliance upon immediate 120. 
 
 mediate, 105. 
 
 and assignment, 239. 
 
252 
 
 INDEX 
 
 and motive, 104. 
 methods of securing, 106. 
 and control, 107. 
 Intrinsic function of subject- 
 matter, 35. 
 of language, 51. 
 of history, 59. 
 Introspection as an aid to teach- 
 ing, 95. 
 
 James, W., 29, 106, 156. 
 Job, as a way of acting, 24. 
 
 Language, the intrinsic func- 
 tion of, 51. 
 securing motive for, 127. 
 Language forms, intrinsic func- 
 tion of, 52. 
 Latin subjunctives, why study, 
 
 46. 
 Lecturing, 171. 
 Lesson Plan, 241. 
 a form of, 243. 
 the writing of, 241. 
 Literature, as ways of acting, 
 24. 
 function and structure of a 
 
 unit of, 7 5, 85. 
 assignment in, 237. 
 specific function in, 38, 39. 
 relevant past experience and, 
 
 146. 
 review for motive, 147. 
 weakness of inductive method 
 
 in, 191. 
 informal method, 182, 191. 
 induction and deduction, 182. 
 Logical organization of subject- 
 matter, 156, 179. 
 Logical division of Lesson Plan, 
 
 244. • 
 Longfellow, H. W., 85. 
 Lord's Prayer, as a way of 
 acting, 24. 
 as reorganization of experi- 
 ence, 30. 
 
 Macbeth, as a way of acting, 
 
 24. 
 McMurry, C. A. and F. M., 171, 
 
 183, 241. 
 Magazine advertisements, and 
 
 motives, 142. 
 Manual training, verification in, 
 
 265. 
 Mediate interest, 105. 
 
 and the assignment, 239. 
 Memory and drill, 232. 
 Methods of development, 179. 
 their fields, 179. 
 induction, 183. 
 leduction, 188. 
 informal, 191. 
 Monroe, Paul, 10. 
 Motives, 100. 
 definition, 100. 
 and focal points, 101. 
 and attention, 101. 
 related to value and con- 
 trol, 102. 
 and interest, 103. 
 and need, 108. 
 
 immediate interest and, 105. 
 Motive applied to education, 
 116. 
 active, 116. 
 potential, 116. 
 generic values and, 123. 
 specific values and, 125. 
 Motive, methods of securing, 
 127. 
 composition, 127. 
 reading, 132. 
 writing, 133. 
 arithmetic, 134. 
 history, 137. 
 magazine advertisements, 
 
 142. 
 for drill, 232. 
 Multiplication, as a way of act- 
 ing, 24. 
 as re-organization, 30. 
 function and structure of, 
 76. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Need, definition, 109. 
 characteristics of, 110. 
 and education, 111. 
 
 Old Man's Funeral, An, as a 
 
 way of acting, 24. 
 Organization, psychological and 
 
 logical, 194. 
 Origin, definition of, 27. 
 of subject-matter, 27. 
 O'Shea, M. V., 9. 
 Ostrich Hunt, An, 64. 
 
 Past experience, review of, 
 145. 
 necessity for review, 145. 
 relevant, 146. 
 
 review as aid in solution, 148. 
 review for functional con- 
 nection, 149. 
 review of previous lesson, 
 151, 219. 
 Pedagogical division of Les- 
 son Plan, 249. 
 Percentage as a way of acting, 
 24. ■ 
 function and structure of, 77. 
 Physics, and application, 150. 
 Potential motives, 116. 
 Practical experience an aid to 
 teaching, 98. 
 weakness of, 99. 
 Preparation phase of lesson 
 
 plan, 184, 245. 
 Presentation phase in lesson 
 
 plan, 185, 146. 
 Problems of teaching, the pe- 
 culiar, 89. 
 aids to solution of, 95. 
 Problem, its relation to inter- 
 est, need and control, 113. 
 methods of raising, 114. 
 and data, 158. 
 and hypothesis, 158. 
 logical organization and, 154, 
 
 156. 
 and verification, 155, 158. 
 series of problems, 160. 
 
 as means for securing real- 
 ness, 213. 
 
 Promissory notes as way of 
 acting, 24. 
 as reorganization, 31. 
 
 Pronoun, intrinsic function of, 
 57. 
 
 Prospice, as a way of acting, 
 24. 
 
 Psalm of Life, and application, 
 150. 
 
 Psychological and logical or- 
 ganization, 170. 
 
 Psychology as an aid to teach- 
 ing, 96. 
 and control, 153. 
 
 Punctuation, intrinsic function 
 of, 57. 
 
 Pupil, function of subject-mat- 
 ter for, 39. 
 view of function contrasted 
 with that of teacher and 
 author, 40. 
 
 Questioning, and the develop- 
 ing method, 175. 
 Quinine, specific and tonic, 37. 
 
 Reading, methods of securing 
 motives for, 136. 
 psychological and logical or- 
 ganization in, 207. 
 intrinsic function of, 58. 
 Eealness, method of securing 
 213. 
 by means of problems, 213. 
 through imagination, 213. 
 by dramatization, 216. 
 by blackboards, 217. 
 and past experience, 219. 
 through comparison, 219. 
 Reasoning and control, 154. 
 Receipts, as a way of acting 
 
 24. 
 Recitation, statement of aim. 
 
 118. 
 Reorganization, subject-matter 
 and, 28. 
 
254 
 
 INDEX 
 
 and apperception, 29. 
 conditions requiring little and 
 much, 31. 
 Review of past experience, 145. 
 for motive, 145. 
 as an aid in solution, 148. 
 for functional connection, 
 149. 
 Rhetoric, intrinsic function of, 
 of previous lesson, 151. 
 55. 
 Rooper, 93. 
 
 Saul, 178. 
 
 Science, inductive and deductive 
 
 method in, 181. 
 Seven Years War, 140. 
 Situations, practical and imag- 
 inary, 126. 
 Skill, value of, 221. 
 
 standards of efficiency, 231. 
 Smith & Hall, 35. 
 Specific and tonic functions of 
 
 study, 37. 
 Spelling, intrinsic function of, 
 59. 
 
 why study, 12. 
 
 function and structure in, 78. 
 Stamp Act Congress, 141. 
 Statement of aim, 118. 
 Structure of subject-matter, 
 64. 
 
 definition, 64. 
 
 parts and organization, 64. 
 
 structure and logic, 65. 
 
 illogical structure, 66. 
 
 explicit relations, 68. 
 
 relation of function and 
 structure, 71, 74, 79, 82. 
 Subject-matter, 21. 
 
 definition, 21. 
 
 importance, 21. 
 
 inadequacy of treatment, 22. 
 
 necessity for fuller treat- 
 ment, 23. 
 
 as ways of acting, 23. 
 
 illustrations, 24. 
 
 origin, 27. 
 
 as reorganization, 28. 
 
 function of, 31. 
 
 and control, 31. 
 
 and values, 32. 
 
 distinctions in function, 49. 
 
 intrinsic function, 35. 
 
 indirect function, 36. 
 
 as end and means, 45. 
 
 the race and, 49. 
 
 the teaching of, 89. 
 
 the structure of, 74. 
 
 of immediate interest, 118. 
 
 incidental and formulated 
 
 study of, 204. 
 growth of, 209. 
 as instrument, 221. 
 as cultural, disciplinary and 
 
 instrumental, 224. 
 permanence and fundamental 
 
 needs, 50. 
 examples of organization, 74. 
 Summary in the recitation, 204. 
 
 Teaching of subject-matter, 89. 
 the peculiar problem of 
 
 teaching, 89. 
 difficulties of teaching, 90. 
 "Telling," definition, 170. 
 and lecturing, 171. 
 and text-books, 171. 
 advantages of, 171. 
 vs. developing, 177. 
 Text-books, slavish adherence 
 to, 44. 
 and original solutions, 157. 
 and problems, 163. 
 and data, 165. 
 and hypothesis, 167. 
 and verification, 168. 
 and "telling," 171. 
 and the developing method, 
 175. 
 Theme-writing, function and 
 structure of a unit, 76. 
 and data, 163. 
 Theory of teaching as an aid to 
 teaching, 97. 
 
INDEX 
 
 255 
 
 Thorndike, E. L., 175. 
 Tonic function study, 37. 
 Tools, as ways of acting, 25. 
 
 Units of subject-matter, 69. 
 large and small, 69. 
 and recitations, 69. 
 
 Values, 17, 153. 
 
 appreciation of, 18. 
 control of, 19, 153. 
 generic and specific, 122. 
 classes of generic, 123. 
 
 motives and generic values. 
 
 123. 
 specific and motives, 41 . 
 Verification, 156, 167. 
 
 and appreciation, 168. 
 Vulcanized rubber, hypotheses 
 in its discovery, 156. 
 
 Waterfowl, The, specific and 
 tonic functions, 38. 
 
 Writing, intrinsic function of. 
 58. 
 and motive, 133. 
 
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