The Psychological and Pedagogical 
 Aspect of Language. 
 
THE PSYCHOLOGICAL AND PEDAGOGICAL ASPECT 
 OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 By Margaret Keiver Smith. 
 
 The term language refers especially to the system of articu¬ 
 late sounds made by the human voice primarily with a view to 
 communication between human beings. While it is indispen¬ 
 sable to the mental development of every human being, it is 
 not the product of any one mind, but of minds laboring under 
 the necessity of intercourse with one another. 
 
 With the purpose of intercourse in mind, we associate the 
 idea of voluntary effort with human speech. Probably for this 
 reason, notwithstanding its mechanical side, human speech is 
 very generally regarded as a mental operation, skill in the ex¬ 
 ercise of which seems to indicate a considerable degree of men¬ 
 tal development. 
 
 Through a comparison of persons who have a limited control 
 with those who have an extended control of language, and 
 especially through a comparison of the mental power of a deaf 
 mute who has not achieved the use of language with the men¬ 
 tal power of one who has learned to speak and write, we are 
 justified in assuming that in the intellectual development of the 
 human being, language performs a very important part. From 
 such observations as have been made, we judge that the deaf 
 mute, without the advantage of language, has a mental content 
 of images and feelings alone, and that only through these states 
 can an appeal reach him. His power of reflection is as limited 
 as his power of abstraction. His physical desires are strong, 
 and his power of self-control very weak, while his ethical sense 
 remains entirely undeveloped. Romanes states that he has 
 never been able to find a case where a deaf mute without edu¬ 
 cation in language, and, indeed in word language, has been 
 able to acquire any idea of supernaturalism. Even with the 
 best aid of sign-making, i. e., gestures, he has been unable 
 to acquire any idea of a divine being. 
 
 The importance of language in connection with mental de¬ 
 velopment may be perceived in the lower animals quite as 
 readily as in the human being. The excess of intelligent at¬ 
 tention and memory in the domestic animals as compared with 
 the same qualities in w T ild animals may very well be attributed 
 in great part to the language of human beings to which the 
 
ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 439 
 
 a 
 
 former in the course of ages have become accustomed. It is a 
 noteworthy fact that in the training of domestic animals, much 
 0 more dependence is placed upon the use of words than in the 
 training of wild animals. The stories that we have of the dog 
 and the horse, not to mention those of the elephant, or even of 
 the bird family, lead us to infer that those animals not only 
 understand words and sentences, but that they actually show 
 signs of at least primitive judgments. The adaptability of 
 domestic animals to new conditions, and even to modern inven¬ 
 tions, may justify us in supposing that the language of ages has 
 brought them into a close resemblance to the human animal, 
 and that their generalizations differ in degree rather than in 
 kind from those of man. As a rule we do not assume that even 
 the most intelligent domestic animals surpass even the lowest 
 of the human family, but we not infrequently hear the owner 
 of a dog or horse proudly assert that the creature possesses 
 more real knowledge than many a man of his acquaintance. 
 
 Through derived uses, the application of the term language 
 has become so extended that it stands for any and all means of 
 communication that are in any degree systematized. 
 
 Thus, in addition to the language of speech, we have gesture 
 language, and tone language, the one indicating a system of 
 regulated bodily movements, the other working out into a 
 system of sounds developed from the tones of the primitive 
 human voice. 
 
 Both gesture and tone language are designed for purposes of 
 communication, and are adapted probably from the crude mo¬ 
 tions and harsh cries of primitive man (possibly even of the 
 brutes) in his efforts to attract other creatures of his kind. 
 
 As a means of emotional expression, both gesture and tone 
 &c' serve much better than as a means of intellectual expression. 
 
 Among gestures we have those that indicate states of feeling 
 * merely as pleasant or unpleasant, and gestures that indicate 
 ^5 such emotions as fear, anger, love, pride, etc. 
 
 In the second stage we have modulated movements intended 
 > to express definite mental states, e. g., the nod of affirmation, 
 ; or approval, the shake of the head implying negation, or dis- 
 j approval, the wave of the hand in invitation, and the wave of 
 ^ the hand in repulsion. 
 
 H Among tones we have those that express emotional states, 
 as the inarticulate murmur of affection, the growth of rage, 
 the whine of fear, etc. 
 
 The second step in tone language is toward articulate speech, 
 as the instinctive babble and chatter of the child as it imitates 
 sounds. Something of the same tendency may be observed in 
 the chatter of the parrot, mocking bird, etc. Possibly this step 
 may not be regarded as a step in language, inasmuch as the 
 
440 
 
 ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 purpose of communication is not so much in evidence as in the 
 first step. It seems more properly to be a mechanical prepara¬ 
 tion for articulate language which is to come later. 
 
 As in the case of gestures, in connection with articulate 
 speech, tones are used in modulated and regulated forms for 
 the purpose of enhancing the effect of words which, if used 
 alone, would merely arouse intellectual states. The effective¬ 
 ness of tone and gesture lies in their use as an outlet for the 
 emotions, and as a means of arousing corresponding emotional 
 states in those who are subjected to their influence. 
 
 The inadequacy of these so-called languages lies in the im¬ 
 possibility of their expressing many definite or complicated 
 ideas and connected thoughts. They are both bound to sense- 
 perception, and for the most part are very clumsy instruments 
 in securing generalizations of any high degree of abstraction. 
 As a matter of fact the elaboration of gesture and tone into any 
 extended system of expression is mainly due to the use of 
 words. No people without a well-developed system of articu¬ 
 late language has ever done much with the drama or with 
 music. The highest use of gesture and tone can only be real¬ 
 ized when they occupy a subordinate position, viz., that of 
 supporting and emphasizing the spoken word. The skillful 
 speaker realizes their value when he wishes to gain a hearer 
 whom he cannot convince by reason. 
 
 The fundamental principle of all forms of spoken language is 
 that of connecting an idea in the mind of one individual 
 with some external sign which is intelligible to another indi¬ 
 vidual. This sign becomes intelligible when it is attached to 
 similar ideas in the minds of the two individuals. For pur¬ 
 poses of general comprehension, this sign must be constant. 
 With this sign as a basis, a system of expression may be 
 arranged by means of which mental states are not only indi¬ 
 cated, but by means of which thought is formed, defined, elab¬ 
 orated, and transformed into the force that moves the world. 
 
 Apart from the convenience of a means of communication, a 
 system of expression is of the greatest importance to the indi¬ 
 vidual, in that it is a means of bringing order, clearness, and 
 purpose out of a chaos of mental content. Without a system 
 of expression, the mind must remain confused, indeterminate, 
 characterless, and ineffective. A writer has said that next to 
 the hope of immortality, expression is the highest hope of the 
 human spirit. Perhaps with equal truth we may say that 
 without power of expression, the hope of immortality could 
 never have been conceived. 
 
 While admitting tone and gesture to be legitimate and nec¬ 
 essary means of expression in primitive stages of development, 
 we must also admit that for the development of civilization, a 
 
ASPECT OF EANGUAGE. 
 
 441 
 
 more highly specialized means of expression is necessary. This 
 demand seems to be met by articulate language. As the sign of 
 an idea, the spoken word is constant, while at the same time it 
 admits of modification and elaboration sufficient to meet the 
 needs of the highest intellectual development. Because it is 
 the instrument best adapted to this use, the word has become 
 the preferred means of communication. In every way, the use 
 of the word is economical. Being the most conventional sign of 
 expression, it is the least liable to be misunderstood, while at 
 the same time it is purer and more definite, more condensed, 
 and more effective than any other sign. 
 
 Romanes gives four divisions of articulate language. First, 
 the meaningless imitation of sounds heard; second, the in¬ 
 stinctive articulation of syllables; third, the understanding of 
 articulate sounds or words; and fourth, the intentional use of 
 words as signs or names of ideas, i. e ., the use of words with a 
 meaning attached. 1 
 
 Corresponding to the articulate side of language he gives 
 the intellectual aspect in five stages 2 viz., first, the indicative 
 stage, in which there is an intentional sign though it may be 
 expressed by gesture, tone, or word; second, the denotative 
 stage in which intentional marks are indicated by names. The 
 name in this stage is reproduced merely by mechanical or 
 special association. Tike the first this stage is peculiar to 
 many of the lower animals as well as to human beings, and 
 marks no great intellectual advance. The name is in this 
 stage merely a mechanical convenience. 
 
 The third, or connotative stage is that in which a name is 
 given to an object by reason of some quality or qualities which 
 it possesses. The word contains a meaning, of which the 
 application is extended to other objects possessing characteris¬ 
 tics in common with the first, so that a grouping is made, and 
 the word becomes the name of a class. This is the concept 
 forming stage, or possibly the stage of classifying and naming 
 perhaps without a full consciousness of the extension of the 
 application of the word. This stage probably marks the divid¬ 
 ing line between the human being and the lower animal, as 
 the grouping of objects on the basis of common characteristics 
 implies a higher intellectual power than we have as yet observed 
 in brutes. 
 
 The fourth or denominational stage is an extension and elab¬ 
 oration of the third, the connotative word being now applied 
 consciously and intentionally. The last stages is that of pred¬ 
 ication in which denominative concepts are combined into 
 
 1 Romanes: “Mental Evolution in Man,” Chap. 7, p. 121. (New 
 York, 1898.) 
 
 2 Ibid., pp. 157-162. 
 
442 
 
 ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 propositions in such a way that the content of one concept is 
 affirmed to partake of the nature of the other to a greater or 
 less degree. 
 
 The stages of denomination and predication so clearly indi¬ 
 cate a higher intellectual development than appears possible to 
 the brutes, that some psychologists and philologists, upon this 
 ground alone, have assumed for man a special creation. 
 
 The power of articulate language as a means of mental devel¬ 
 opment is shown when the word is used as a symbol or type 
 which, while it is constant as a sign, yet is sufficiently movable 
 to admit of such modifications of meaning as the intention or 
 feeling of the individual may dictate. In this lies the real 
 power of predicating, or of attributing varying qualities, or 
 varying shades or degrees of the same quality to an object. It 
 is the power to use one idea in such a way as to modify the 
 application of another idea, and thus to form a new mental 
 product the apprehension of which indicates a decided advance 
 in intellectual development. When an individual can con¬ 
 sciously use a word to indicate a class of objects possessing 
 certain essential (as distinguished from accidental) characteris¬ 
 tics in common, he has achieved the foundation for the highest 
 mental operations. 
 
 The importance of articulate language lies in the fact that 
 without the word, the concept, i. e., the generalization, cannot 
 be held before the attention in such a way as to form an ele¬ 
 ment of thought. Without it no effective thinking can be done, 
 and consequently no clear rule of action can be evolved. It is 
 the agent that differentiates a definite idea, or concept from the 
 confused mass which characterizes the content of the primitive 
 mind. Without it, the mind must remain primitive and con¬ 
 fused. 
 
 The need for adaptation to the conditions of a progressive 
 civilization creates the necessity for classifying the mental con¬ 
 tent, i. e. t for evolving order and clearness from obscur^ and 
 confusion. The human mind in its incapability to grasp in 
 detail the multitudes of objects that are daily and hourly forced 
 upon the attention, is saved from fruitless and even dangerous 
 effort by the word and the proposition which serve as a means 
 of preserving intellectual unity. 
 
 In addition to the use of the word in controlling abstract 
 thought upon concrete things, we find a higher use, by reason 
 of the concept name itself becoming an object of thought, thus 
 furnishing a new factor in the elaboration of propositions pos¬ 
 sessing a higher degree of abstraction than that brought about 
 through generalization upon concrete objects. 
 
 To the ordinary individual who seldom rises to the region of 
 higher abstractions, the influence of articulate language is also 
 
ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 443 
 
 of the utmost importance. Without it the attention does not rise 
 above the primitive, curious attention of the brute, the savage 
 or the child. Through the understanding which it carries 
 with it, it rouses the liveliest sympathy among people. It 
 standi as a support to memory, while it exercises a controlling, 
 subduing, and directive power over the emotions. 
 
 The intelligent development of language implies a constant 
 development of judgment and reason. 
 
 In the formation of the concept, we come to the dividing line 
 between the perception of external, or concrete things (sense 
 perception), and the apprehension of internal, or abstract rela¬ 
 tions (conception, —apperception ). 
 
 Here the individual is first conscious of himself, and becomes 
 free to do his own thinking. The extent to which he carries 
 his generalizations (provided always that he classifies on the 
 basis of common essential characteristics) determines the ex¬ 
 tent of his freedom and of his effectiveness. 
 
 Without the intelligent use of articulate language, probably 
 no abstract judgments can be made; no consciousness of self, 
 and consequently no ethical judgments can be evolved. 
 
 At this point we are met by a question regarding the peda¬ 
 gogical application of the theory of the dependence of all im¬ 
 portant forms of thought upon articulate language. 
 
 The function of pedagogy is to lay the foundation for devel¬ 
 oping later a broad minded thinking people whose activities 
 may always be depended upon to work for the highest good of 
 humanity. 
 
 In considering the relation between thought and language, 
 we have regarded the beginning of real intelligence, the begin¬ 
 ning of rational judgment, the beginning of generalization 
 which lies at the foundation of reason and rational action as coin¬ 
 cident with the use of the articulated word naming the concept 
 which results from the free judgment of the individual. If this 
 proposition be accepted, and if the alleged function of pedagogy 
 be regarded as legitimate, then, in connection with the educa¬ 
 tion of children, it follows that from the very beginning of 
 school life, the development of intellectual language, i. e., of 
 the connotative, or denominative term, and the proposition, 
 should receive special and careful attention. 
 
 In the United States, the teaching of language is difficult. 
 If, among the tongues of Babel which surround it, the English 
 language retains its characteristics, it must possess marvellous 
 vitality. In the Northern and Western States, unless it be pre¬ 
 served in the schools, it can hardly survive. In not a few of 
 the higher institutions of learning, strenuous efforts are being 
 put forth in its behalf. Many professors whose time might be 
 otherwise employed are obliged to devote no small portion of 
 
444 
 
 ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 their time and energy to the correction of the very imperfect 
 language which the students bring to their work; a language 
 so scanty at times, that instruction in other subjects can hardly 
 be given until greater facility of expression in English is ac¬ 
 quired. Yet with all that is done, we have reason to believe 
 that the condition of our language in many parts of the country 
 is but little encouraging. 
 
 A few years ago, a prize of some importance that for years 
 had been given annually for a paper upon a literary subject 
 was withdrawn from one of our oldest universities for the reason 
 that among eleven hundred undergraduates, not one had pre¬ 
 sented a paper worthy of consideration. 
 
 East year, an instructor in chemistry in a large American 
 university wrote: “These students study chemistry! Why 
 they can’t talk. They can’t spell. They can’t read. They can’t 
 write. ’ ’ 
 
 In a recent number of one of our best magazines, a writer 
 mentions the fact of a considerable prize being offered to under¬ 
 graduates in a New England college for a paper upon a some¬ 
 what abstract subject. Only with the greatest difficulty was a 
 production obtained that would justify publication, and when 
 it appeared, it did not escape censure. 
 
 Within the last few weeks, an item has appeared in one of 
 our best daily papers to the effect that eight young men, high 
 school graduates from a Western locality, have successively 
 failed in the examination for admission to West Point, and that 
 in every case the failure was in common English subjects. 
 
 As a further indication of the discouragement, concerning 
 our schools and their results, which seems to be felt, the writer 
 has made a list of some of the charges which, from time to 
 time during the last few years, have been preferred through 
 magazine and newspaper articles against the students who enter 
 the colleges and universities of this country. The charges 
 collected read about as follows: 
 
 1. They (the students) cannot talk except in a jargon of their 
 own composed of words that have no general application, and 
 are therefore intelligible to only a limited number of people. 
 
 2. They cannot write in fairly good English. The words 
 they use are largely the names of material things. Many young 
 men and women of the high schools who present themselves 
 for admission to normal schools and colleges are not capable 
 of writing an ordinarily correct letter upon any subject what¬ 
 ever. 
 
 3. They cannot read. In attempting to read aloud, they 
 display an amazing unfamiliarity with the printed page. They 
 pronounce words very incorrectly, and give but little evidence 
 that they understand their meanings. In attempting to read 
 
ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 445 
 
 silently, after perusing a paragraph, they cannot give a syn¬ 
 opsis of the thought expressed. They not infrequently give 
 evidence of knowing each word in a sentence, but are incapable 
 of giving the thought expressed by those words when they are 
 combined in the sentence. 
 
 They display a marked disinclination to use a dictionary. 
 The unfamiliarity with this book is so great that one might be 
 justified in supposing that in some of the institutions of learn¬ 
 ing in the United States, dictionaries have not yet been dis¬ 
 covered. 
 
 4. They take little or no interest in literature, either prose 
 or poetry. 
 
 5. They show little or no interest for intellectual pursuits; 
 indeed, they awaken to genuine intellectual effort only with 
 great difficulty. At present education seems to be crippled in 
 its essential idea of intellectual life. 
 
 6. They take no special interest in public questions. 
 
 7. They know little and care less about social questions. 
 
 8. In the educational world, enthusiasms have become re¬ 
 stricted, and are very difficult to arouse. 
 
 9. They have no special love of country. The fundamental 
 principles of freedom do not appeal to young people; indeed 
 they seem to be losing power with young and old. 
 
 10. Appeal to the ethical reason is made only with diffi¬ 
 culty. There is a substitution of sensuous for spiritual appre¬ 
 hension, a taking of events at short range, instead of contem¬ 
 plating them in those wide relations in which they compose the 
 universe. They cannot be said to realize moral responsibility 
 in any adequate sense, and they show a lack of moral indepen¬ 
 dence that promises unfavorably for the formation of character. 
 
 11. Such interest as they show is largely in connection with 
 concrete things; for example, with the subjects of the labora¬ 
 tory, with the tactics of field sports, and with the commercial 
 advantages that may result from an extended attendance at 
 some higher institution of learning. 
 
 These are grave charges for serious-minded people to bring 
 against the very best class of the youth of this country. The 
 writers who make these statements are not prejudiced for¬ 
 eigners who might take pleasure in noting the weaknesses of 
 our educational influences, but they are people who love the 
 country so well that they would gladly open our eyes to the 
 conditions under which we are at present living. Even grant¬ 
 ing that these evils be exaggerated, they are still sufficiently 
 dangerous to cause anxiety on the part of thinking people who 
 have at heart the best interests of the youth not only of the 
 colleges and universities, but, also, of that larger class who lack 
 opportunity for the broader development afforded by our higher 
 
446 
 
 ASPECT OE EANGUAGE. 
 
 institutions of learning. No doubt more serious charges could 
 be made, and indeed are made, against the youth and manhood 
 of this country, both within and without the colleges and uni¬ 
 versities. A list of such charges of weakness, to call them by 
 no harsher name, would include: heedlessness, self-indulgence, 
 lawlessness, greed, brutality, sufficient to fill the mind of any 
 ordinarily thoughtful person with the liveliest apprehension. 
 
 Every daily newspaper of this country, every day of the 
 year, publishes events that show unmistakably that these 
 charges are well founded. Even granting that only one tenth 
 part of them may be true, the conditions are still sufficiently 
 serious to excite alarm. 
 
 The question whether the schools have done, are doing, or 
 possibly can do anything to influence our present social condi¬ 
 tions is certainly a legitimate one. What possible connection 
 can exist between our educational conditions, and the social 
 difficulties that are at present perplexing the wisest men of the 
 country ? 
 
 During the past half century, a great change has taken place 
 in the public school education of the United States. This 
 change has affected not only the subjects taught in the schools, 
 but it has reached as well the plans of procedure, the so-called 
 methods of instruction. 
 
 About the year i860, “object lessons” so-called were intro¬ 
 duced into the schools. Eater, these gave place to “objective 
 instruction,” and this in turn was succeeded by what has been 
 known as “Elementary Science Teaching.” Still more re¬ 
 cently the schools have had a course of what we call ‘ ‘Industrial 
 Education.” 
 
 The principle, “first the idea, and then the word” so vigor¬ 
 ously emphasized by Pestalozzi has dominated the educational 
 effort of this country for a little more than forty years, during 
 which time, the end and aim of school life, and indeed of home 
 life as well, has been the acquisition of concrete images, i. e ., of 
 ideas of concrete things. Everything that could appeal to the 
 senses of the child has been presented to him. Every conceiv¬ 
 able object has been subjected to sight, hearing, touch, taste, 
 smell, etc. When the objects could not be brought into the 
 schoolroom, the children have been taken to them, so that but 
 little has escaped their attention. The result seems to be that 
 our young people (if not also our adult population) have be¬ 
 come addicted to things, and that they center their main in¬ 
 terests and hopes of happiness upon the concrete world. 
 
 With the habit of occupation with concrete things for some 
 twelve or fourteen years of the most impressionable period of 
 life, we can hardly wonder that when a student goes to college 
 he should show a greater disposition to occupy himself with 
 
ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 447 
 
 material things than with abstract questions. We can hardly 
 wonder that later in life, the actual possession of a certain 
 amount of plain hard cash should seem much more real, and 
 far more desirable to him than a clear intellectual apprehension 
 of a man’s duties as a citizen, or of the moral distinction be¬ 
 tween meum and tuum. This would seem to be the logical 
 outcome of excessive occupation with concrete things. 
 
 We can have no quarrel with “objective instruction” per 
 se, nor with any form of instruction that leaves the child in a 
 better condition than it finds him, but we must remember that 
 there are other than material objects in a course of education, 
 and it may be well to examine the scope of objective instruction 
 as it is sometimes pursued in the schools, with a view to find¬ 
 ing out whether it is calculated to meet the requirements of 
 mental development. 
 
 In the first place the material object appeals to the senses, 
 and to the senses alone. The psychical result of this appeal is 
 a concrete image or an image of a concrete thing. 
 
 According to the previous experience of the child, and ac¬ 
 cording to the degree of attention brought to bear upon the 
 object at the time of presentation, this image is more or less 
 vague. If the child has never before had anything like it, and 
 if the attention be distracted by the presence of other striking 
 objects, the chances are that no adequate image of the thing 
 presented is formed. 
 
 Also, in childhood, the nerves of sense are often so incom¬ 
 pletely developed, that the sensations formed through the ex¬ 
 citation of eye, ear, etc., are totally unlike those which the 
 teacher expects the pupil to gain, so that the mental product 
 is no adequate foundation for the apprehension of other images 
 to be gained through the presentation of other objects. In 
 order that something like an adequately correct image may be 
 formed, much time should be allowed for repeated observations 
 of the same thing. Otherwise the mental content must be 
 such that nothing but errors can result from its use in thinking. 
 Just here is laid the foundation for that incomplete, inaccurate 
 observation which Herbart has said ‘ ‘ trains only dreamers and 
 fools. ’ ’ 
 
 Also the clearness or vagueness of the image may be largely 
 determined by the extent and kind of language used at the 
 time of presenting the object. At best only the most simple 
 images can be held before the attention without the use of 
 words, and then but for a short time. The more complicated 
 images depend for their existence upon the awakening of the 
 intellect, which can only be secured through the use of lan¬ 
 guage. The word, merely as the name of the individual image, 
 is not sufficient even for the child of five years (perhaps it is 
 
448 
 
 ASPECT OF EANGUAGE. 
 
 not sufficient for a normal child beyond three years). Images 
 classified under the concept name can be held before the at¬ 
 tention better, and, through the observation of their common 
 characteristics, they become clearer than when each is observed 
 individually. 
 
 The evil that objective instruction was intended to counter¬ 
 act was the acquisition of words without the ideas that they 
 were intended to represent. This was the danger of learning 
 books verbatim, as was largely the practice in the early history 
 of public instruction. The stultifying effects of this process 
 cannot be too severely condemned, and a reaction against it 
 was inevitable. The dread of acquiring words without ideas 
 has become so great that not a few teachers appear to be dis¬ 
 posed to dispense with words altogether. However, since it is 
 impossible to hold many ideas without words, and since words 
 are indispensable to thinking, the last state of the children 
 threatens to become worse than the first. 
 
 It is quite remarkable to find how few complete sentences, 
 each containing subject, predicate, and suitable modifiers are 
 exchanged between the ordinary teacher and his pupils. Pre¬ 
 sumably in every school, directions, questions, explanations, 
 are given, yet if teachers were to review their own language, 
 they would probably be astonished to find how few sentences 
 composed of well-chosen words they speak in a day. Probably 
 they would be still more surprised to find how few sentences, 
 either correct, or incorrect, their pupils speak in a day. A 
 sustained conversation between teacher and pupils is very un¬ 
 usual, frequently an unheard of thing. Yet it is only in con¬ 
 versation that individuals can learn to talk. A normal school 
 student of more than twenty years stated recently that she 
 never spoke for ten minutes uninterruptedly in her life. She 
 thinks that she never talked in school for five whole minutes. 
 She never conversed with her teachers, and she often spent 
 days and weeks in school without speaking one complete sen¬ 
 tence during recitations. Many a day she never recited orally 
 at all. This is perhaps not an unfair representation of the 
 language facilities in the ordinary public school. Questions 
 that are asked are generally elliptical in form, often they are 
 expressed in single words, while the answers are very generally 
 sent back by the children in single words or phrases, not infre¬ 
 quently by the monosyllables “yes” and “no.” 
 
 Very recently the writer found a young woman who went 
 through her school course without ever reading aloud once, 
 and who picked up such reading as she can do quite by chance. 
 
 It is not impossible that the wordless condition of the ele¬ 
 mentary public schools, may go far to explain the lamentable 
 poverty of language on the part of high school, normal school, 
 and college students. 
 
ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 449 
 
 In some schools, teachers may be found who express them¬ 
 selves well, but who seem to lack the power to secure fluent 
 expression from the pupils. They seem not to recognize the 
 fact that in order to be able to do his own thinking, a pupil 
 must do his own talking. 
 
 Sometimes it is urged that in the schools the training in the 
 use of language belongs to the work of the teacher of language. 
 Even here, however, the language is often about as limited as 
 it is in the recitation in arithmetic, and since the material object 
 has also made its way into the language lesson, it is quite as 
 concrete. 
 
 It may be remarked that the introduction of the material 
 object into the language lesson is largely for the purpose of 
 providing a subject concerning which the pupils may write. 
 Just here it may be said that instruction in writing seems 
 to be quite in excess of instruction in talking or in reading. 
 The effort expended in this connection seems to be out of 
 proportion to the results secured. Generally lack of power 
 to talk connectedly implies lack of power to write. In both 
 speaking and writing, thought is required. Children waste 
 quantities of ink and paper, together with much energy, in 
 trying to express in writing what they have never had an 
 opportunity to think, simply because they have had no practice 
 in using words to form concepts, and of using those concepts 
 in oral sentences. If half the time which is spent in teaching 
 pupils the art of written composition were spent in training 
 them in oral expression, the results of the other half spent in 
 writing would probably be vastly more valuable than they are 
 at present. 
 
 In the work that was done before objective instruction was 
 introduced into the schools, as before intimated, the children 
 learned books by rote and recited them to the teacher. It was 
 a chance whether the text was understood or not. Often no 
 apprehension of the subject was gained. For the pupil’s de¬ 
 velopment, this was, of course, very bad, but upon the whole 
 no worse than the accumulation of vague, fleeting, disconnected 
 images, without, in many cases, words either to name or to 
 classify them. Confusion and obscurity among images of con¬ 
 crete objects is just as great a hindrance to mental growth and 
 to effective action, as confusion and obscurity among words. 
 As to the rote-learning, we may say in its favor that the children 
 had a much greater opportunity for speaking aloud than they 
 have in objective work. The sentences were well constructed 
 so that the right relation of subject and predicate was always 
 secured. A copious vocabulary was also gained. Another 
 advantage was that pupil’s not infrequently studied their les¬ 
 sons aloud, thereby becoming accustomed to the sounds of 
 
450 
 
 ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 their own voices, so that they were free from confusion when 
 required to speak. There is at least a probability that the 
 habit of silence during school hours during the early years, 
 may have something to do with the rigidity of the lower jaw 
 which is so marked in a large majority of students when they 
 attempt to speak connectedly for some time, or when they 
 attempt to read aloud. Herbart reports that Pestalozzi, him¬ 
 self a very indistinct speaker, secured very fine results in articu¬ 
 lation and expression on the part of his pupils by simultaneous 
 oral recitation. Indeed, the well-known story of Pestalozzi’s 
 celebrated * ‘ hole in the paper, ’ ’ furnishes ample grounds for 
 the inference that whatever the Swiss educator may have done 
 for the development of the idea, he never once neglected the 
 training in language necessary for the formation of concepts. 
 
 In connection with the study of objects, one great difficulty 
 is that not infrequently both teacher and pupils regard the 
 material object as the real object of study, instead of which it 
 should be treated merely as a means by which the truths of 
 the subject presented are to be illustrated. Where many and 
 varied objects are presented, this misapprehension appears in¬ 
 evitable. The results are to be seen in many departments of 
 school work. Instead of knowing botany, many of our students 
 know the names of individual plants, and can enumerate their 
 specific parts, together with the length, thickness, form, and 
 color of each part. Notwithstanding the study of objects in 
 both botany and zoology, it is not impossible to find high 
 school students who cannot state anything approaching an 
 adequate distinction between a plant and an animal. Instead 
 of knowing zoology, the pupils know the hair of a dog, the toes 
 of a horse, and the feathers of a canary bird. They have 
 neither the concepts nor the language necessary for the intelli¬ 
 gent statement of principles or rules. 
 
 In arithmetic, illustrative objects are numerous, and, as in 
 the other subjects, are continued too long. After the age of 
 seven, concrete objects are probably a hindrance to the appre¬ 
 hension of this subject. Children do not know arithmetic. 
 They know that two blocks and two blocks make four blocks, 
 and that two blocks from four blocks leave two blocks. After 
 the objects are removed, the pupils are still held down to con¬ 
 crete things by the substitution of denominate numbers. It is 
 not impossible to find, even in high schools, pupils who can 
 neither add, subtract, multiply, nor divide, without making 
 most amazing blunders. At this moment the writer has a 
 vivid memory of a young normal school teacher (a graduate of 
 both high school and normal school) weeping bitterly because 
 she could not find the dimensions of the platform in her 
 class room, her principal having given her permission to cover 
 
ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 451 
 
 it if she would tell him how many yards of carpeting would be 
 required. 
 
 As to algebra, the concrete processes of adding, subtracting, 
 multiplying and dividing may be fairly well understood, but 
 one not infrequently finds students who cannot shorten a pro¬ 
 cess of any kind by applying a known principle. 
 
 Even in grammar the influence of the inaccuracy arising 
 from the study of concrete things may be seen. At least one 
 high school pupil described an abstract noun as an “object not 
 composed of matter, but yet a liquid, for example, water.” 
 
 The complex character of geography seems to have demanded 
 for its elucidation the introduction of multitudinous and varied 
 objects into the schoolroom. A few years ago, the writer at¬ 
 tended an exhibit of things to be used in teaching geography. 
 The material filled two large rooms, and the visiting teachers 
 were cheered by the information that the supply was by no 
 means complete. And yet, the knowledge of geography as 
 displayed by high school pupils is at times calculated to move 
 one to tears. Among those that go to normal schools, some 
 have been known to locate London and Berlin in south latitude. 
 Others have ascribed to the earth two motions, viz.: * ‘ nota¬ 
 tion ’ ’ and ‘ ‘ remuneration. ’ ’ Some have never heard of latitude 
 or longitude, while still others prove themselves quite innocent 
 of any knowledge of mathematical geography whatever. A few 
 months ago a letter addressed to the director of geography in 
 perhaps one of the best training schools for teachers in this 
 country brought this remarkable information : “ We do noth¬ 
 ing whatever with mathematical geography, as the teachers 
 themselves know no more about it than the children do.” 
 
 In this connection, it may be remarked that the material 
 objects presented in connection with the study of geography 
 may be divided into two classes, viz.: natural, and artificial 
 objects. The natural objects presented are not infrequently 
 entirely aside from the purpose of geography, being calculated 
 rather to illustrate truths in agriculture, manufacture, art, etc., 
 than designed to make geographical principles intelligible. 
 One writer in this connection presents hints for a study in 
 color, which he admits is not exactly geography but defends 
 his presentation by asserting that color is a very interesting 
 subject anyway. Much of the material suited, perhaps, to the 
 study of physics, chemistry, etc., but presented in geography, 
 must be explained on the same principle. Concrete objects 
 presented in this manner must prevent the acquisition of geo¬ 
 graphical knowledge no matter how excellent the objects in 
 themselves may be. Perhaps even a greater hindrance lies, how¬ 
 ever, in the presentation of artificial objects under the name 
 of apparatus; as, maps, globes, mouldings, etc. These objects 
 
452 
 
 ASPECT OF I,ANGUAGE. 
 
 are only useful when employed to illustrate a truth, and having 
 filled their purpose, they should at once be dispensed with. 
 After the illustration has been made, the continued use of the 
 material object can only weaken the apprehension of the ab¬ 
 stract truth, and must result in the thing assuming more im¬ 
 portance in the mind of the pupil than the truth which we wish 
 him to grasp. The object is remembered long after the lesson 
 is forgotten. As an illustration, may be mentioned an incident 
 of a number of normal school girls of about sixteen or seven¬ 
 teen years who were required to assist in laying out a plan of 
 their State on half an acre of land in the school grounds. After 
 an hour’s work, one day, during which the director (an experi¬ 
 enced and skillful civil engineer and a good teacher) had given 
 very clear illustrations and explanations, the girls went to their 
 class room, and looked at a sand model of the same State. 
 “Oh, girls!” exclaimed one, “How much more satisfactory 
 this is than that thing out of doors!” “Yes, of course!” 
 answered another, “Because it is so much more like the real 
 thing!” “ What is the real thing, Emma?” asked a puzzled 
 teacher who was present. “Why, that!” responded Emma 
 as she pointed with an air of conviction to a map of the State 
 which hung on the wall. Further conversation revealed the 
 fact that all the girls were wondering why the ‘ ‘ Professor ’ ’ 
 should make a representation of the map out on the grounds. 
 
 The globe used in geography very easily becomes the earth, 
 and may greatly hinder the apprehension of facts concerning 
 the earth itself. 
 
 A story is told of a bright school boy who had shown him¬ 
 self remarkably skillful in the use of maps and globes; when 
 he heard a gentleman say that Russia had sent fifty thousand 
 men into Germany, he asked his father how it was possible for 
 so many men to stand upon the small space which stood for 
 Germany on the map of Europe. This very well illustrates 
 the distorted mental content which the excessive use of artifi¬ 
 cial objects (or indeed, the excessive use of any material objects), 
 furnishes as a mass of ideas for the apperception of new knowl¬ 
 edge. A very successful teacher of geography stated that she 
 was better able to develop the necessary ideas in the minds of 
 her pupils by means of carefully chosen words, than by means 
 of any concrete material that she could find. 
 
 In connection with the use of any material object as a means 
 of illustration, careful and adequate language on the part of 
 both teacher and pupil is very necessary. The lesson is not 
 finished until the language of the child convinces the teacher 
 that he is in possession of the concepts which the lesson was 
 calculated to furnish. 
 
 It is sometimes urged that, if sense-perception be exercised, 
 
ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 453 
 
 and if concrete images be formed, later in life the pupils will 
 make their own generalizations. This is very like, and quite 
 as futile as the assertion which the people who formerly de¬ 
 fended rote-learning were in the habit of making, viz.: that 
 if the pupils learned verbatim the author’s generalizations 
 when young, later in life they would fit their experiences to 
 them, and thus come to understand them. As a matter of 
 fact, the latter proposition appears to be the more valid of the 
 two. Students who have had years of school life do not 
 show any special tendency to make their own generalizations. 
 
 When, by the nature of the subject, abstract language is re¬ 
 quired by them, they construct sentences that have at times no 
 signification whatever, or else they say the very opposite of 
 what they mean. A recent graduate being interviewed regard¬ 
 ing her apprehension of a definition wrote: “A definition, psy¬ 
 chologically speaking is an optical image. ’ ’ When asked to 
 examine this statement, and to criticise it, after some reflec¬ 
 tion, she declared that she could see nothing wrong with it. 
 Still another, a student of Ancient History, wrote: “The 
 Assyrians became so powerful that they compelled another na¬ 
 tion to come over and subdue them.” 
 
 A third, being required to describe the “Salic Law,” wrote: 
 “The Salic Law was no woman or son of a woman could oc¬ 
 cupy the throne.” 
 
 A fourth being questioned concerning “Westminster Abbey” 
 wrote: “Westminster is in Montana, Abbey is in Africa.” 
 
 These amazing statements, delivered with an innocence and a 
 matter-of-course manner that leaves one somewhat dumb with 
 astonishment, are a fair indication of the character of the ordi¬ 
 nary expressions of these young people. It is perhaps no 
 matter for wonder that such students should show little or no 
 interest in abstract questions, or in the reading of books that 
 present subjects in the smallest degree abstract. It is perhaps 
 not too much to .say that there are many young men and women 
 students twenty years of age, who have been at school at least 
 from ten to twelve years of their lives, who cannot possibly 
 carry on a conversation on any topic beyond the every day 
 happenings of their immediate neighborhood, and of these, 
 they cannot give a listener even a fairly correct idea. When 
 together, with no older persons taking part, their conversation 
 presents a curiously intermingled mass of trivial personalities, 
 expressed almost entirely in concrete terms, relieved and orna¬ 
 mented by slang expressions so specialized that a stranger can¬ 
 not even guess their meaning. A somewhat appalling thought 
 in this connection is that out of such material a by no means 
 small portion of our public school teachers is constructed. 
 
 Since Pestalozzi worked much more by intuition than by 
 
454 
 
 ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 rational insight, it is somwhat difficult to determine just how 
 far he apprehended the scope and the significance of his own 
 procedure. From the interpretation which Herbart has given 
 of his work, however, we believe that he advocated the use of 
 objects in instruction only so far as they were calculated to 
 secure to the child clear images, from the combination of whose 
 common, essential characteristics the concept might be evolved. 
 The denominative term and the proposition was the ultimate 
 aim of the lesson. 
 
 The Pestalozzian method of instruction as it was interpreted 
 by Professor Hermann Kriisi, and as it was pursued for the 
 first thirty years at the Oswego Normal School, objective though 
 it was in character, made provision at the close of every lesson, 
 or series of lessons, upon a subject, for generalizations which 
 put the pupil in possession of concepts that were developed 
 through the exercise of his own individual comparison and 
 judgment. The development of “ perception, reason, judgment, 
 conception, memory, and language,” constituted the object or 
 general purpose of every lesson, and no recitation was consid¬ 
 ered a success until this purpose was achieved. 
 
 As time has gone on, the tyranny of things seen has, to a 
 large extent, excluded things not seen from the schoolroom. 
 In objective work, generalizations appear to be more and more 
 neglected, and, except in a casual and careless way, do not 
 occur. Consequently, the intellectual processes beyond mere 
 primitive attention are not adequately developed. The lack of 
 purposeful connotation implies lack of concepts, which implies 
 lack of power to think except in the crudest fashion. 
 
 As in Pestalozzi’s practice, so in Herbart’s theory, we find 
 marked and ample provision made for the development of con¬ 
 cepts, and of power to generalize. In the “ Six Interests ” and 
 in the “ Four Steps of Instruction,” only in the first of each is 
 occupation with concrete things implied. The speculative and 
 aesthetic interests, as well as those of the family, society, and 
 religion, all involve the consideration of abstract relations, 
 while the second, third, and fourth steps of instruction afford 
 the largest opportunity for abstract thinking, and for the de¬ 
 velopment of intellectual language. It is doubtful, however, 
 whether much attention is paid to any but the first steps of the 
 Herbartian instruction. Teachers have, in many cases, not 
 been able to understand the importance of association or sys¬ 
 tem, or even of application in their work. As a matter of fact, 
 the first step is only of real value in proportion to the work 
 done in the three succeeding steps. The time spent upon the 
 latter part of the lesson is of the greatest possible value in 
 saving occupation with many things. Herbart, himself, warns 
 teachers against mistaking much occupation with things for 
 
ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 455 
 
 much understanding of principles. He asserted that with only 
 Homer’s Iliad as material, he would undertake to develop the 
 six interests in such a manner as to form the foundation for a 
 well-rounded character. 
 
 In connection with the use of material objects in the recita¬ 
 tion, are two conditions which may, in a way, explain the 
 limited use of language in the class room. The first is that 
 the distribution and collection of material, consumes a large 
 portion of the time allotted to the recitation. The second is 
 that the handling of many different things appears to exert an 
 influence which is unfavorable to connected thinking. As the 
 care and condition of the material is the concern of the teacher, 
 one can understand that she may be so fully engaged with in¬ 
 dividual things that she has little time or energy left for the 
 real teaching that ought to accompany the presentation of 
 objects. 
 
 A teacher of some experience, with young teachers in train¬ 
 ing in normal schools, states that young students who, when 
 they first entei; school, develop considerable enthusiasm for 
 abstract studies, after they have been in the practice school as 
 teachers for ten weeks, upon returning to the normal depart¬ 
 ment for further study, display a marked lack of interest in 
 abstract work. There seems to be an apathy and a difficulty 
 in becoming interested that can hardly be overcome. Prin¬ 
 ciples are not understood, apparently, largely because these 
 students do not develop sufficient energy to apply them. This 
 teacher states: “The condition is not exactly indifference and 
 not apathy. Rather it may be regarded as a complete re¬ 
 action from tension. The handling daily for ten w 7 eeks of 
 some thousands of objects, and the observations of their obvious 
 relations so disperses the attention that these young teachers 
 seem to partially lose their powers of concentration. They 
 can be appealed to only through the senses, and then not for 
 long at one time. Also, they seem less able to take care of 
 themselves during study hours, and are frequently complained 
 of for lack of self-control. They talk about little things not 
 worthy of expression. The students who have done only the 
 abstract work are hailed with relief by both departments, 
 though these also do inferior work after they have returned 
 from their ten weeks’ teaching. 
 
 Some idea of the number of things handled during a single 
 lesson in Art may be gained from the following data : 
 
 For a class of 40 pupils. 
 
 1. 40 trial papers, 
 
 2. 40 other papers, 
 
 3. 40 bowls, 
 
 4. 40 times water poured (in each bowl), 
 
456 
 
 ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 5. 40 paintboxes, 
 
 6. 40 brushes, 
 
 7. 40 specimens from which to paint. 
 
 Total, 280 objects. 
 
 This number of objects may vary slightly, but not essentially. 
 At the close of the recitation these objects are to be collected 
 and put away, thus making necessary the handling of 560 ob¬ 
 jects in thirty minutes. Sometimes the teacher employs the 
 children to aid her in distributing and collecting material, but 
 this does not lessen the number of objects handled. It only 
 distributes the handling among more people; nor does it lessen 
 the necessity of the teacher’s attending to the individual ob¬ 
 jects, both in getting the material ready and in putting it away. 
 
 If the dispersion of attention incident to handling and caring 
 for so many different things be perceptible in a teacher of ten 
 weeks’ standing, what effect must it have on a teacher who 
 works in this way habitually a year at a time ? 
 
 It is not impossible that this kind of work might go far to 
 explain the apparent intellectual arrest not infrequently observed 
 in teachers who have exceeded five years of continuous work 
 in the primary grades. If adequate investigation could be 
 made, it is not impossible that some peculiarities of much kin¬ 
 dergarten and industrial teaching could be explained. As a 
 matter of fact, concrete details do seem to occupy the attention 
 of many of our teachers to the exclusion of abstract questions. 
 At this moment we have in mind a teacher of “ Decorative 
 Art ” as it is pursued in the public schools. She saw the ob¬ 
 jects in a landscape, as thejr would be if she were to represent 
 them in a design on a cardboard of eight by ten inches. When 
 she looked at a sunset, she became immediately troubled to 
 know what proportions of several paints ought to be put to¬ 
 gether in order to get the glow. In the same school with this 
 teacher was another who told the pupils of her class that the 
 forms of nature were based upon the Prang models. The teach¬ 
 ing of the Prang models had been a specialty of this teacher’s 
 for some time, and she saw signs of them everywhere. 
 
 It is a question whether the strongest mind can long with¬ 
 stand the deteriorating influence of constantly pointing out the 
 characteristics of concrete things. The unsatisfying nature of 
 such work, perhaps, shows itself in a curious restlessness on 
 the part of many of our teachers who seem to be always seek¬ 
 ing and never finding. They are eager for improvement and 
 wander hither and thither to clubs, lectures, associations, etc., 
 but it is interesting to observe the excuses which they will 
 make even to themselves, to avoid sitting down to write a 
 simple paper, or to do an hour’s hard reading. 
 
ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 457 
 
 If the influence of individual things is deteriorating for a 
 teacher who has some power of resistance, what must it be for 
 children who cannot escape them ? 
 
 A few years ago the writer had an opportunity to learn the 
 condition of a graded school of five hundred children,—from 
 the kindergarten through the last grammar grade. In the 
 United States no school existed that had for so many years been 
 so thoroughly conducted upon the principles of “objective” 
 “ Elementary Science,” and “ Industrial Methods.” Through 
 a change of principals the fact was discovered that the school 
 was beyond the control of the teachers. Teachers from an ad¬ 
 vanced department came into the lower grades to aid in bring¬ 
 ing something like order out of chaos. The children of the 
 three lowest grades were in much better condition than those 
 who had been longer in the school. In the grammar grades 
 were pupils long past the age for admission to the high school. 
 Year alter year they had failed in their examinations, until 
 finally there was no hope of their ever being able to enter the 
 high school. The restlessness, excitability, and irritability 
 of the whole school were very marked. The older pupils were 
 noisy, insolent, and ugly. At times they utterly refused to 
 work. The reading and writing throughout the school were 
 incredibly poor, while the work in arithmetic was below that 
 of any other subject. The power of attention was extremely 
 limited, and, if a persistent attempt to hold the children to 
 work were made, many children were attacked with sudden 
 and violent headaches. Through a change of teachers, a 
 change of subjects, and a change of procedure, a change for 
 the better was effected, and an outbreak of school hysteria, or 
 at least chorea, was avoided. The cause of the difficulty 
 seemed to be a long course of ill-digested, or wholly undigested 
 “ objective instruction.” 
 
 One of the most serious difficulties resulting from constant 
 occupation with material things, is the consumption of energy 
 involved. Any person, who, at any time in his life has been 
 addicted to museums, “Worlds’ Fairs,” etc., will remember 
 how soon during his observation of objects, fatigue set in, and 
 how utterly incapable of thinking he became after an hour or 
 two. Another difficulty is the mental helplessness of the per¬ 
 son who is addicted to things. Within himself are no resources 
 for amusement or entertainment. The higher pleasures of the 
 imagination are denied him. He is constantly looking for 
 some new physical excitement. This constant tendency toward 
 excitement is the greatest possible hindrance to the capacity to 
 learn anything that requires reason and reflection. It is, per¬ 
 haps, not too much to say, that many of our young people in 
 their pursuit of excitement, exhaust their capacity to learn at 
 
 3 
 
458 
 
 ASPECT OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 a very early age, and seem to acquire a permanent nervous 
 fatigue which may be the reason for the failure of such a large 
 number of our men and women to stand a strain of care or 
 trouble even in early manhood and womanhood. 
 
 The absence of the life of the imagination, and of power to 
 think seriously, makes a great void in the life of the individual. 
 To-day the -world is full of wanderers flitting from mountain to 
 seashore, from city to country, from island to mainland, from 
 California to Alaska, India, Egypt, anywhere, where they 
 may see or hear a new thing. Social life is full of concrete 
 things; flowers, dresses, foods, play a large part in entertain¬ 
 ments of every kind. Theatres are overflowing with things 
 rich, showy, noisy; that shall, night after night, minister to 
 the senses of restless, nervous spectators who are eagerly de¬ 
 manding something that shall excite them yet a little longer. 
 
 Occasionally, during the past five years, we have been met 
 by an anxious question as to whether our present social con¬ 
 ditions do, or do not, indicate a loss of civilization and a proba¬ 
 ble reversion to savagery. This dark prospect is certainly not 
 attractive. Nor is it probable. No nation has ever yet passed 
 from civilization to savagery; but, perhaps, not a few have 
 fallen into a worse condition. An awakened and developed 
 activity, without the judgment to direct it to desirable and 
 legitimate ends, must always be more destructive than an ac¬ 
 tivity that is but partially awakened and is still undeveloped. 
 With the latter something may yet be done; for the former 
 there is but little hope, and so long as it exists there is danger. 
 
 The school is the conventionalized expression of the social 
 condition of the country. It assumes the form which the real 
 or supposed social need indicates, and presumably fits the 
 rising generation to supply that need. Just now the social 
 need seems to point tow r ard the possession of the material 
 world, even at the risk of losing our immortal souls. 
 
 It is, perhaps, not too much to say that our excessive attention 
 to material things, both in the school and in the world, means 
 restriction to the language of material things, which means 
 a loss of intellectual language, which means more primitive 
 and more limited thinking under which our social conditions 
 must deteriorate. 
 
 The remedy for existing conditions and the hope of preserv¬ 
 ing intellectual unity in the country, would seem to lie in 
 everywhere subordinating the material things of life to their 
 earlier and legitimate use, viz., that of making the abstract 
 comprehensible to the end, that it may furnish us with the 
 highest rules of action. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 ' 
 
 L. 
 
 3 0112 059233228