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A BRIEF COURSE IN THE
TEACHING PROCESS

Brief Course Series in Education

EDITED BY

PAUL MONROE, Ph.D.

BRIEF COURSE IN THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION.
Paul Monroe, Ph.D., Professor of the History of Education, Teachers College, Columbia University.

BRIEF COURSE IN THE TEACHING PROCESS.
George D. Strayer, Ph.D., Professor of Educational Administration, Teachers College, Columbia University.

BRIEF COURSE IN THE PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION.
John Dewey, Ph.D., LL.D., Professor of Philosophy,
Columbia University.

In preparation.

A BRIEF COURSE

IN

THE TEACHING PROCESS

BY

GEORGE DRAYTON STRAYER, Ph.D.

PROFESSOR OF EDUCATIONAL ADMINISTRATION, FORMERLY
ADJUNCT PROFESSOR OF ELEMENTARY EDUCATION
TEACHERS COLLEGE, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

New York

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

1916

All rights reserved

Copyright, 1911,

By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.

Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1911. Reprinted January, March, April, September, 1912; January, July, November, December, 1913; October, December, 1914; May, 1915; January, 1916.

Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing Co.—Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.

TO MY WIFE

PREFACE

This book is the direct outcome of experience in trying to help teachers grow in skill in the art of teaching and in power to appreciate the work in which they are engaged. In the following pages have been treated as concretely as possible the problems which the teacher faces day after day in the classroom. Theories of education have not been discussed at any great length, but rather those processes through which these fundamental principles find their expression in actual teaching.

Terminology which it is difficult for teachers to understand has been avoided. Although the results of studies in educational psychology and in experimental pedagogy have been included in the interpretation of the problems discussed, it has not been thought advantageous to discuss at any length any one of these investigations.

Many of the books which have been written for teachers have discussed theories of teaching method without indicating clearly the application of these principles in typical classroom exercises. In other volumes a single type of teaching has been emphasized to the exclusion of other equally valid methods of instruction. In this book each of the several typical methods of instruction has been treated, and the validity of the particular practice indicated in terms of the end to be accomplished, as well as the technique to be used. Since the technique of teaching method is not the only element in determining the efficiency of the teacher, there is included in this book a discussion of those other aspects of the teacher’s work which determine the contribution which she makes to the education of the children with whom she works.

In the chapter on lesson plans are given a number of illustrations which conform to the types of exercises discussed earlier in the book. One of the greatest needs in working with teachers is met by this very definite provision for demonstrating the validity of the types of teaching discussed. The exercises given at the end of each chapter are intended to supplement the discussions of the book by calling for an interpretation of the thought there presented in terms of situations with which teachers are commonly familiar.

To Professors F. M. McMurry, Naomi Norsworthy, and L. D. Coffman, each of whom has read the manuscript, I am indebted for many valuable suggestions. To Miss Kirchwey of the Horace Mann School, Miss Steele and Miss Wright of the Speyer School, to Miss Tall, Supervisor of Grammar Grades in Baltimore County, Maryland, and to Dr. Lida B. Earhart of the New York City Schools, I am indebted for lesson plans. The outlines for the study of English, arithmetic, geography, and history which are given in the appendix are published with the permission of the authors and of the Teachers College Bureau of Publications.

GEORGE DRAYTON STRAYER.

Teachers College, Columbia University,
August 10, 1911.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

A BRIEF COURSE IN THE
TEACHING PROCESS

CHAPTER I
THE AIM OF EDUCATION

Education is worth just the difference it makes in the activities of the individual who has been educated. The question is not how many books did we compel the child to read; how much does he know of arithmetic, geography, history, music, art, and the like: but rather what use does he make of this knowledge; how is he different from the person who does not possess this information; and, still more important, are these differences in his activity desirable from the point of view of the group in which he lives. It is important, then, that we should consider, before we discuss the function of teacher in bringing about changes in children, the ends which it is desirable to attain.

The aim of education has been variously stated. In the popular mind the aim of education is usually interpreted in terms of knowledge, or the ability to make a living. The theorists have been more apt to define the purpose of education in terms of the development of the abilities of the individual, of growth, of culture, or of morality. It might be interesting to examine each of the aims which has been advanced in some detail. It may be as significant to note the element common to all.

It is safe to assume that the advocates of each statement of aim believed that their conception was broad enough to insure success for the individual educated in accordance with the particular ideal embodied in their statement of purpose. No aim would be at all acceptable which did not take account of the society in which the individual must work. The education in a tribal society, which consisted in learning how to protect one’s self and to provide for one’s physical needs, the acquaintance with tribal ceremonies and tribal lore, quite as truly as our modern education, fitted the individual to get on in life. The individualistic point of view has been constantly emphasized. It has been a case of earning a living for one’s self, of getting culture for the satisfaction that it might bring, of acquiring knowledge for the sake of the advancement which was thus made possible, of moral growth for the sake of individual salvation. More recently it has been common to state the aim of education in terms of social efficiency. It is the purpose of this discussion of aim to examine this concept in order to make clear its significance.

When society reaches that stage of development in which progress is definitely sought and planned for, the stage of conscious evolution, it is not enough that the individual be educated simply so that he may attain his own selfish ends. Each individual is a part of the organic whole, and in his functioning it is the good of the whole which is of paramount importance. The aim of education must, then, be broad enough to include both the welfare of the individual and the good of society. Is there any real opposition between these ends? If we think most of all of the welfare of the whole organism, must we sacrifice the interests of the constituent parts?

No one can do the most for the group of which he is a member who has not realized in his education the development of those abilities with which he is peculiarly endowed. The nurture of those abilities upon which society places a premium, and the inhibition of non-social tendencies, means greater opportunity for the exercise of whatever strength the individual possesses, greater individual growth and development, than would otherwise be possible. It is only through participation in social life that the highest individual development is possible, and it is true that “he who loseth his life” for the good of the group “shall find it.” There is, then, no opposition between that view of education which declares that the welfare of society is of paramount importance, and that which demands individual well-being. If we are successful in obtaining the former, we must have secured the latter.

If the analysis of the relation of the individual to society is correct, we are justified in claiming that any adequate statement of the aim of education must point unmistakably to the idea of the common good. Education aims so to adjust the individual to the group that the welfare of society as a whole may be advanced. This adjustment can be brought about only through participation in social activities, and thus the aim is constantly realized in the process.

In our democratic society, which makes possible free education for all of its members, there can be no question of the right of society to demand that education aim to develop men and women who work for the common good. It is necessary, then, to analyze this aim of social efficiency in terms of our society. The equality of opportunity which we profess to offer is to be thought of in terms of possible service which may be rendered.

In any community the contribution to the general welfare which may be made by any one of its members is conditioned by the interests which the individual has in the general good. The unsocial individual, the one who seldom responds to the needs of the group, is out of sympathy with social problems, and contributes little to social welfare.

But it is not enough that the individual be interested in the common welfare. Interest may lead him to do that which is harmful rather than helpful, or it may be that his interest may have no result except to give him certain pleasurable emotions. There must be added to sympathy, knowledge. Interest or sympathy in the welfare of society may furnish the propelling force, but knowledge is necessary for effective action. The world is full of men and women with the best intentions who hinder rather than advance the common good.

Since each is responsible not only for his own conduct, but also for the welfare of the whole group, it is necessary that our education provide opportunity for growth in intelligence. Our schools have always emphasized this element in education. We have often defined the aim of education in terms of the development of citizenship. Usually the chief qualification of the citizen has been interpreted to be that knowledge which would enable him to exercise the right of suffrage with intelligence. We do well, however, to remember that intelligence must be exercised in all of the activities of life. Our education must strive constantly to develop men and women who will be rational at all times. But we may not forget that our schools have been so much concerned with the intellectual side of education that they have tended to neglect other elements which are equally significant from the standpoint of social welfare.

There is still another element which must be added, the habit of acting on behalf of the group. We all know people who know just what is demanded in a given social situation; they profess to be interested in the welfare of the group; but they never act. When their own private interests are involved they are quick to seize the opportunity for improving their condition; but in social matters they are inactive. It is in this particular, rather than in any other, that our schools fall short. We do much to arouse the sympathy of children in the general welfare; we give them the knowledge by which their action may be guided; but we give them little opportunity to form the habit of social service. This is due to the fact that we so often think of adult social activities as the only ones that are worth while, forgetting that for the child the important thing is social activity now and in his society, that the only way to prepare for adult social effectiveness is to secure social efficiency on the part of the child.

These questions still remain: how can we, through education, produce the individual who, because of social sympathy, knowledge, and activity, will tend to advance the welfare of all; and what kinds of education meet the demands of the aim which we have set up.

First of all, we must endeavor to produce the individual who is sound physically. Modern education recognizes the fact that a man’s usefulness is conditioned by his bodily condition, and is also coming to find that physical activity is not without its effect on the mental development and life of the individual. There is, therefore, one large division of our work which we may call physical education.

On the side of mental development, education consists in preserving and stimulating the child’s interest in the materials and processes with which he may come in contact. Intellectual training aims to develop the man or woman who is mentally alert, active in investigation, and controlled by reason. It is to this intellectual education that our schools have devoted the larger part of their time. The school is the agency set aside by society for transmitting culture, and the teacher must always concern herself largely with the intellectual life of children.

Our modern view of education is leading us to stress, along with physical and intellectual education, a kind of training which aims to develop the individual whose moral standards are positive rather than negative. Moral-social education should establish ideals of social service as well as standards of individual righteousness.

Along with physical, moral-social, and intellectual-cultural education, there is need for that type of training which will enable each individual to do some particular work with a high degree of efficiency. This type of education we commonly call vocational. It is only recently that we have come to realize that it is not enough to train an individual with respect to general intelligence and morality, but that it is also just as fundamental that our education provide the training necessary for success in the particular calling which each individual is to enter. For the preparation of clergymen, doctors, lawyers, teachers, and engineers, whose vocations require a maximum of intellectual achievement, it is true that we have long had our vocational schools. We are coming now to appreciate the fact that equality of opportunity demands that special training be given to those who are to enter the industries. Indeed, our vocational schools must multiply until there is training offered for each and every calling before we can claim to provide that training which is essential for social efficiency.

Another problem is that of the training for leisure. In society as at present constituted, it is possible for many individuals, and it should ultimately be possible for all, to have a considerable amount of leisure time. The contribution of each individual in his special line of work, and his general interest in the whole community, will depend in a considerable degree upon the proper use of leisure time. Our education must, therefore, attempt to equip men with interests and ideals which make for the nobler enjoyments.

Keeping in mind the sympathetic, wise, active social individual, made so by the process of acquiring experience or making of adjustments, both physical and mental, we have yet to reduce our aim to the terms of schoolroom practice. What can a teacher hope to do in this hour, with this group of children to work with?

First of all the teacher can work for the formation of habits which are socially desirable and for the inhibition of those which are undesirable. “Education is for behavior, and habits are the stuff of which behavior consists.”[1] The school may be a very important factor in the formation of habits in each of the fields of education mentioned above. If the school is organized on a rational social basis, it must continually present opportunities for actions which should become habitual, and the future efficiency of the learner depends upon gaining such control of much of the knowledge which we teach that the response desired becomes habitual. The social virtues of promptness, regularity, helpfulness, industry, fidelity, honesty, truthfulness, cleanliness, both physical and mental, patriotism, and the like, should be made habitual in connection with the situations which demand their exercise. The physical habits acquired in childhood are of the utmost significance throughout life. Much of arithmetic, spelling, writing, geography, history, and even of literature and art, will be significant in proportion as we have reduced our knowledge to the automatic basis of habit. One cannot stop to reason everything out; life is too short. We gain time and energy for the higher activities of life in proportion as we reduce the responses which occur frequently to the basis of habits. In vocational schools one of the chief aims is the formation of habits of skill. Later we shall want to discuss in detail the methodology of habit formation.

Every teacher recognizes that one of the ends which must be achieved by the school is knowledge. We shall not here enter into the discussion of the problem of what knowledge is of most worth, since for the teacher this choice is usually made and prescribed in the course of study. One cannot, however, refrain from suggesting that much that is taught would be eliminated, if we kept constantly in mind the end for which we strive. The following criteria, proposed by Professor Frank M. McMurry, will be suggestive from the standpoint of teaching, whether the teacher determines the curriculum or not.

“We hold to the following propositions in the rejection of subject matter.[2]

“1. Whatever cannot be shown to have a plain relation to some real need of life, whether æsthetic, ethical, or utilitarian in the narrower sense, must be dropped.

“2. Whatever is not reasonably within the child’s comprehension.

“3. Whatever is unlikely to appeal to his interest; unless it is positively demanded for the first very weighty reason.

“4. Whatever topics and details are so isolated or irrelevant that they fail to be a part of any series or chain of ideas, and therefore fail to be necessary for the appreciation of any large point. This standard, however, not to apply to the three R’s and spelling.”

These criteria indicate clearly that knowledge can never be in itself an end of teaching. It is not that the child may have knowledge merely, but that he shall have knowledge which will function. This knowledge which we seek to have the child master will concern his physical life, his social relationships, his vocation; and in each field the knowledge he possesses will limit his intellectual activity.

The school must keep alive, or, in some cases, awaken those interests which are socially desirable. It is not enough that habits have been formed and knowledge acquired. Much of the usefulness of the individual after he leaves school will depend on his interests which lead him to acquire new knowledge, or to attempt some new activity. It has sometimes been asserted that the school, as at present organized, tends to kill rather than to preserve those interests which are common to little children. It is probable that the passing interests in things due to curiosity must disappear, regardless of the education which we give; but it is a poor sort of education which leaves the child without abiding interests which will help him not only in making a living, but also in enjoying his life. Here, as elsewhere in education, we may be satisfied with the result only when we get the corresponding action. That child has an interest in good literature who reads good literature. We can be sure that the boy is interested in natural phenomena when he is willing to spend his leisure time finding out more about nature’s ways. The only test that we have of an abiding interest in the welfare of others is the fact that the child is now active on behalf of others. In like manner are we to judge of our success in arousing and maintaining those other interests which are desirable.

Judgments of fact are called for constantly in acquiring knowledge and in our everyday activity; but no less important in the life of individuals are judgments of worth. Education must concern itself with the ideals, purposes, and standards which should be acquired by children. There is no field in which greater skill is demanded in teaching than in bringing children to appreciate those things which are good, true, and beautiful. Ideals, or, for those who do not agree with them, prejudices, will always be of tremendous importance. They determine the course of action a man will take. Because of their ideals men have been willing to labor incessantly for a cause which they considered just, to give up personal good in the pursuance of public duty, to lose all, if they might but retain their honor, yes, even to lose their lives because they felt that this extreme service was demanded of them. The awakening and nurturing of ideals of work (or industry), of honor, of duty, of purity, of service is the greatest contribution of the best teacher.

There is one other aim which the teacher should have constantly in mind, included possibly in the above, but which needs to be stated separately for the sake of emphasis, i.e. that children should be taught how to work independently. The best teacher is the one who is constantly striving to render her services unnecessary. There is nothing that the school can do which will take the place of giving the child knowledge of the most economical means to be employed in achieving desirable ends. Is it a matter of knowledge, the child should be made conscious of the methods whereby truth may be established; is it the need of establishing a new habit, or the breaking up of the old one, we should make available for the pupil the principles of habit formation so that he may apply them to his own case; in matters of right and wrong, the school should have supplied standards of reference which will help in the difficult situation. Possibly the great weakness of many teachers in imparting this knowledge of methods of work is best illustrated by citing the well-known fact that children of high school, or even college age, are found very frequently who do not know how to read a book, or study a lesson assigned. This problem will be treated in considerable detail when we come to consider the study lesson.

Pupils at work forming habits of thought, feeling, and action; acquiring knowledge of nature and of society; forming ideals which make for social well-being; and learning in all of this work to act independently, to function in the society of which they are a part: this is education, and these are the goals which we should strive to achieve every day and every hour that we teach.

For Collateral Reading

Nicholas Murray Butler, The Meaning of Education, Chapter I.

W. C. Bagley, The Educative Process, Chapter III.

Exercises.

1. How would you hope to contribute to the realization of the aim of education in the teaching of English, arithmetic, cooking, geography, or other school subjects?

2. How would you determine whether or not the children in your grade are socially efficient?

3. What are the most important subjects, or parts of subjects, which you teach? Why?

4. How would an application of the aim of education as discussed in this chapter modify the work commonly done in arithmetic? In nature study?

5. It has been claimed that education should provide for the harmonious development of all of the powers. Criticize this statement of aim.

6. Could you defend the statement that “the aim of education is to produce socially efficient men and women,” and at the same time deny that the greatest individual good comes from working for the general welfare?

7. Why should education be free in a democracy?

8. Is society justified in offering special education to the deficient and the delinquent? To the especially capable? Why?

9. Is the excessive rivalry which we sometimes foster in our schools compatible with the aim of social efficiency?

10. Of the several types of education, physical, intellectual, moral-social, vocational, and education for leisure, which is most neglected?

11. How do you account for the fact that many children cease to inquire, to investigate, or even to ask questions, although they are regularly taught in our schools?

12. Why do you teach school? What do you hope to accomplish?

13. Can you name specific instances of changes brought about in children under your instruction which justify you in believing that you have fulfilled the aim of education in your teaching?

14. What justification is there for music, drawing, or literature in the curriculum?

15. State briefly the aim of education.

CHAPTER II
THE FACTORS CONDITIONING THE TEACHING PROCESS

If it is essential that the teacher approach her work with a clear view of the ends which it is desirable for her to achieve, it is quite as necessary that she be conscious of the factors which condition the teaching process. The school, with its limitations and its advantages, the community and home life of the child, and, above all else, the child himself, his instincts, impulses, and abilities must be the subject of most careful study. Much progress has been made in recent years because of a better understanding and a more sympathetic attitude toward children. Teachers are beginning to see that education has its beginning in, and that it is always conditioned by, the life of the child outside of the school building. The possibilities of the school as an institution for the education of children are just beginning to be realized.

While it is true that the school shares with the home, the church, and the community at large the education of children, no one can fail to recognize the fact that the responsibilities and the activities of the school have been very greatly augmented during the past few decades. Where other institutions have lost or have become less effective, the school has gained, or has been forced to accept new responsibilities. Changed industrial conditions and life in cities have made it impossible for the home to continue to hold the important place which it once occupied in preparing its members for efficient participation in the productive activities. Whether we like it or not, we are forced to admit that the church no longer exerts the power over the lives and conduct of men that it once did. Along with the specialization of function which is so characteristic of our modern life, citizenship in our democracy has come to require less of that type of participation in public affairs which was once a great educative factor in our community life.

As these changes in the effectiveness of other institutions have taken place, men have looked to the schools to make good the deficiency. The schools have responded to the demand made upon them. Our curriculum no longer consists of the three R’s. Cooking, sewing, gardening, and many other kinds of manual work, music, physical training, and fine art are already found in our courses of study. We are coming to recognize the need for more systematic training in morals and civics, and vocational training is being introduced.

What is the significance of these changes for teachers? Is it not true that they must teach whatever is demanded by the course of study; and is not this the only difference in the teacher’s function brought about by changed conditions? The answer is, most emphatically, no. The situation which has already made necessary the change in curriculum demands also changes in method quite as revolutionary. It is more essential to-day than ever before that the school present opportunities for coöperation and for group work, a chance for pupils to work together for common ends, because there is so much less demand of this sort made upon children outside of school than was formerly the case. We ought to do more than we do to develop the independence and the self-reliance which were so characteristic of the boy and girl who lived in an environment which constantly made heavy demands upon their strength, skill, and ingenuity. The responsibility for taking the initiative, and of measuring the success of one’s efforts by the results produced, is all too uncommon in the lives of our children. The school must, if it is to adequately meet its enlarged responsibility, develop those habits of thought and action which enable one to get along with his fellows. The school life of the child must, in so far as this is possible, present such opportunities, make such demands, and judge results by standards essentially social. The child must learn in school to serve, to accept responsibility, and to produce results socially valuable. We could do much to increase the efficiency of the school if we planned more carefully to have schoolroom activities find their application in the homes of children.

School education begins not with the ignorance of children, but with their knowledge. Children come to us with a great wealth of experience. Our work as teachers is to enlarge and to interpret this experience, to give it greater meaning and significance. Can any one question, then, the necessity for acquaintance with the life of the child outside of school? And this study of the out-of-school environment must continue as long as the child is in school, if the teacher’s work is to be most effective. It makes a great deal of difference when you wish to teach nature study that your children have always lived in the city, at a considerable distance from a park. The problem of teaching a great commercial center to children living on farms presents some difficulty. But it is not alone these more gross differences in the lives of children which demand our attention. There are differences in ideals, differences in social custom, in short, in ways of thinking, feeling, and acting, which one must know if one would claim any adequate knowledge of the child to be taught. Probably the best opportunity to gain this intimate knowledge of the lives of children whom we teach is to be had in the work with parents and older brothers and sisters which should be carried on in the school building when the smaller children are not present. The school which is a center of community life, a place for study, for recreation, for physical development, and for social intercourse is the school that is fulfilling its mission in the life of the people; and the teacher who works in such a school will know her children.

There is one other responsibility which we as teachers must acknowledge which again leads us beyond the schoolroom. We should work for the welfare of our children during the time that they are not with us. No other body of men and women knows the needs of these children better than we do. Our work is conditioned by the life of the child before he comes under our influence. Our work is ofttime of no effect because of the adverse conditions outside of the school. What does it matter that we try to develop morality in children, when the forces of immorality in the streets more than counteract our influence? what does it matter that we strive earnestly to provide hygienic conditions for work during five hours of the day, when filth and disease are doing their deadly work outside of the school for nineteen hours a day? Who knows better than we that children with starved bodies cannot do great things intellectually? If we were only organized to improve these conditions, we could do much for the welfare of the community. The time is coming when it will be considered as legitimate for a body of teachers to discuss the problems of impure food supply, of relief for the poor, of means for the suppression of vice, and of better hygienic conditions for the children of our cities, as it is to discuss the problems of method or the organization of school work. What we need, if we are to be effective in the work, is better organization, more craft consciousness. We now possess potentially great power for social betterment. We are exercising this power in the school, and, as individuals, outside of the school. We will, let us hope, in time, recognize the larger social demand and perform the larger social service.

The children with whom we work come to us equipped with many native reactions or tendencies to behave. In any situation the child will react in accordance with some native tendency or habit which has grown out of the original tendency. Success in teaching depends upon a recognition of these instinctive tendencies, the development of some, the grafting of new but similar reactions on others, and the inhibition of the native reaction and substitution of another in still other cases. The instincts which are of importance in education have been variously named; among these those of greatest significance for the work of the teacher are play, constructiveness, imitation, emulation, pugnacity, curiosity, ownership, including the collecting instinct, sympathy, wonder. We shall deal briefly with each of these in relation to the work of the teacher.

Play: Possibly the lesson which teachers need most to learn is that play has real educative value. Before the school age has been reached, the child has learned chiefly by playing. In play the child gets his first experience in those activities which are later to make possible a happy, useful life in the community. The number of possible reactions possessed by a child of six is largely determined by the opportunity he has had to play. This is why we value so much a life free from restraint, and in contact with nature, for little children. Contact with the trees, the rocks, the birds, the flowers, and association with other children mean possibilities of learning for the child which no amount of instruction or exercise of authority can equal. The child plays now with this object and again with that; and in consequence comes to know not only the objects, but his own power. In an imaginative way he experiences all of the adult activities about him, sowing, reaping, building, cooking, cleaning, hauling, fighting; and he is wiser and better prepared for the period of struggle, which must come later, because of these activities.

Nor should this period of play end when the child enters school. The skillful teacher makes a game of many of the exercises of the school, which might be otherwise drudgery. The desire to win is common to children six years of age, and many a hard task will become play, if the element of competition is introduced and sufficient variety in procedure is provided for. By playing, children may learn to work. To achieve the ends desired in a game may involve the overcoming of difficulties which require the most earnest effort. There can be no better preparation for life than the playing of games where team work, self-restraint, and fairness are demanded.

We need more careful study on the part of teachers of children’s games, and more planning that all may secure the benefits which come from this sort of activity. In the schoolroom, wherever it is possible, the spirit of play should pervade the work. There will be cases enough where results will depend upon the exercise of authority. Let us never forget that the reaction of play may mean just as valuable results as the reaction of necessity, and that the ideal life is the one in which all work is play.

Constructiveness: Closely connected with the play instinct is the instinct to make out of the material at one’s command that which will represent some element in the play. In the beginning, gestures, sounds, and whatever objects are present suffice in the make-believe world of the child. But soon the materials are rearranged or shaped into some new form in order to represent the object desired. Materials become to the child just what he can make out of them. And it is not simply in power to construct or to represent that the child grows because of this activity. To make something, to work out in materials one’s idea, means growth in definiteness and control of ideas. The one adequate test of ideas must always be some sort of expression; and, for the adult as well as for the child, construction is one of the most important forms of expression. We would gain much in all of our school work in clearness and definiteness, if we resorted oftener to construction as a test. Of course, construction is not to be limited to the making of things of three dimensions. The map, plan, or artistic representation belongs to the same group, and is developed from the same instinctive tendency.

Just one more word of caution needs to be given with regard to work of this kind. In constructive work, whether with wood or clay, or with pencil or brush, the point of departure should be the child’s idea, not the model or pattern provided by an adult. After the child has made his attempt, then let him see where he has failed by reference to the object which he has tried to represent. And we can afford to be satisfied in the beginning with a crude product, so long as it satisfies the child. As for technique, there will come a time when the desire for a better product will call for greater skill and will furnish the very best possible motive for the necessary practice.

Imitation: In both play and constructive work a most important element is the instinct to imitate. The child constantly imitates adult activities in play, and in construction he represents the objects about him. As has already been indicated, it is in this way that he clarifies his ideas, that he gains experience. In imitation, which is truly instructive, the child does not consciously plan to imitate; it is enough that the model is present. This kind of imitation is sometimes called spontaneous imitation, in contradistinction to the other type of imitation, in which the individual persistently tries to reproduce the activity of another. In the latter case he is conscious of the process; and this type is sometimes called voluntary imitation. This distinction is important for teachers in many phases of school work. There are cases where the only satisfactory response is that which accords with the model, the standard which society imposes. We do not want a child to try to spell a word without being conscious of the form commonly accepted. He will succeed in spelling because he has studied this word, or is able to build it up from his knowledge of its constituent parts. On the other hand, wherever creative work is to be done, wherever originality is required, the educational value of the exercise is inversely proportioned to the degree in which conscious imitation of a model has entered to produce the result. In such subjects as English composition, constructive work, science work involving observation and experiment, what we want above all else is the attempt on the part of the learner to express his own ideas; and it is only after this expression that any adequate appreciation of model or of criticism can be hoped for.

There is one other factor in connection with imitation which is of great importance in teaching; namely, that children persistently imitate what they admire. This has a double significance for the teacher. Those things which can be made less attractive will tend to be less imitated; and, conversely, that which is held up as worthy of great respect will be much imitated. If we were only wise, we would devote our attention to the leader of the group, trying to secure the appropriate or desired reaction upon his or her part, rather than devoting ourselves equally to the whole group. We can depend upon it, the crowd will follow the leader whom they admire. Our appeals often mean little to children, and the models which we set up have little effect, because, however admirable these standards may seem to us, they are beyond the power of children to comprehend or admire. Instead of giving a boy a letter of Jefferson as a model, better give him the one written by his classmate. Do not expect the girl to imitate the noblest women in history, but make your appeal on the basis of the virtue of the girl she likes.

Emulation: Much that has been said above under imitation might quite as well have been written under the head of emulation. As social beings, we tend to do what others do. Consciousness of kind compels us to lay great store upon our ability to do as others do. When in Rome the difficult thing is not to do “as Romans do,” but to do otherwise. The desire to do not only as well as others, but to accomplish more, is responsible for much that is achieved in the world. If we did not have others with whom we are constantly comparing ourselves, few of us would do as well as we now do. Rivalry will always be one of the greatest means of bringing about improvement or advancement in social conditions. In school, as well as in the world at large, rivalry, if kept free from jealousy and envy, will justify its existence by the results produced. The boy or girl who is anxious to distance his fellows in school is apt to be the man of ambition and of success in later life.

Pugnacity: More prominent in boys than in girls, but present in some degree in every individual, is the instinct to fight, the desire not to be overcome either by persons or conditions which surround us. In so far as this instinct leads to physical encounter, for all except the unusually strong physically, the correction comes by way of defeat. For all, the substitution of games which involve physical prowess for fighting, and the substitution of victories of intellect for the victories of physical combat, point to the utilization of this instinct in education. It is sometimes possible to appeal to this instinct when discouragement and defeat in school tasks seem inevitable. No boy likes to be told that he has been downed by the task in long division, or that he has failed to make good in spelling or geography. The whole world hates a quitter, and normal, healthy children are no exception to the rule.

Curiosity: Children are proverbially curious about things. They want to know more, to enlarge and make more definite their experience. This desire shows itself in their actions in handling materials, in making and unmaking, in questions asked, in reasoning, in play, and in imitating others. The most striking characteristic in the mental life of children is the breadth of their interests, due to this instinct of curiosity. Most adults think along very narrow and restricted lines; not so with children. While it is true that they do little abstract thinking, there is scarcely an object or an action which comes within the range of their senses that is not followed by the desire to find out more.

Children have the spirit of inquiry, have many problems, in short, are mentally active to a degree most uncommon among adults. The problem of the teacher is how to keep alive this spirit of inquiry, how to insure a continuance of this mental alertness. Much of our school work has certainly tended in the opposite direction. Reciting what is written in books, without thought or question, has too often been characteristic of recitations. The appeal to authority, whether of the teacher or of the book, instead of the appeal to experience, to observation and experiment, or to other methods of establishing truth, tends to kill rather than to strengthen the spirit of inquiry. We should place greater value upon the intelligent question than upon the parrot-like answer. Respect for the problems of children, even when they seem of little account to us, rather than ridicule or evasion, will tend to keep alive this most precious heritage. Of course it is not wise to encourage the scatter-brained boy or girl who never thinks about the same thing for two minutes in succession. One great function of the teacher is to help children to concentrate upon the main issue, to show a child that his question is irrelevant to the problem under consideration, and to guide him on the path which makes thinking pleasant and profitable.

It would be a good thing for every teacher to ask herself whether while under her direction the children whom she teaches are usually mentally alert, thinking, asking questions, or whether they concern themselves only with repeating the thoughts of others. If there be any doubt with regard to the children’s natural aptitude, let her observe them when out of school and contrast the result. Mental laziness is a habit acquired in spite of our initial advantage, in spite of our desire for knowledge and the pleasure which comes from thinking. The school and the teacher must always be judged by their success in keeping children awake mentally; for it is power to learn rather than knowledge which counts in later years, and learning is most of all dependent upon the initial impulses toward inquiry.

Ownership: Very early in the life of the child the idea of personal ownership develops. There can be no doubt concerning the importance of this instinct in its effect upon the achievements of men, but we are concerned chiefly, in dealing with children, with one aspect of this tendency which is commonly known as the collecting instinct. This desire to have the most complete collection of buttons, postage stamps, pictures, birds’ eggs, shells, arrowheads, or whatever else it may be, may often be utilized to great advantage. Illustrative material for work in history, geography, nature study, and to some degree for other subjects can be had in this way. Such a collection will mean not only a much greater interest in the work, but also a livelier appreciation of the subject, more images upon which to base its generalizations. I have never seen a class that learned more geography in a short time than was mastered by a class who followed the American fleet around the world, collecting pictures, products, and stamps for each of the countries visited, and writing a full account of the country visited to accompany these illustrations. Another class made most interesting collections in connection with their study of colonial history. It is a mistake to suppose that ready-made collections will answer the same purpose. They may illustrate better, but the added interest and enthusiasm growing out of the exercise of the collecting instinct will be wanting.

The collecting instinct may be utilized in work which deals with ideas rather than things. Children may be just as keen in collecting ideas about a subject in which they are much interested as in making their collection of stones, or birds. The transition from the one type of collecting to the other is apparent, in collections which are interesting mainly for the ideas which they suggest.

The Social Instinct: The school has often overemphasized the individualistic point of view. Competition is a legitimate motive; but if all of school life centers around this motive, the child has lost much in the non-exercise of that peculiarly human instinct which demands coöperation and sympathy. At the foundation of our society is the idea of working together for the common good. Boys and girls who are to be most useful to their fellows, who are to do the most for society, i.e. those who are truly educated, must have kept alive and developed this spirit, more than altruistic, which sees in the good of society the greatest individual gain. In a later chapter this topic will be dealt with in considerable detail; suffice it to say here that many opportunities should be found for group projects, for service on the part of each member of the group of the sort that he is particularly qualified to render.

Wonder: The instinct of wonder or awe, closely related to or possibly identified with the religious instinct, is one that our modern critically scientific attitude tends to discourage. No one who has had the experience can doubt the value of this element in mental life. To wonder at the glory of the heavens will doubtless make more difference in the lives of most men and women than the smattering of astronomy they may acquire. The man who wonders at the manifestation of the power of the forces of nature may get more real joy out of life than he who feels that he has solved all of her mysteries. We are not as a people remarkable for our reverence. It may be well urged that our schools have often been responsible for the opposite attitude. This instinct of wonder will thrive only in a sympathetic atmosphere. No teacher can directly inculcate or develop it. Only that teacher who has preserved and nurtured the instinct in her own life can hope to be effective in keeping alive the same spirit in children.

In the first chapter it was claimed that teachers should work to develop the socially sympathetic, intelligent, and active individual, and that the ends to be expected from any exercises might be classified as habits, knowledge, interests, ideals or appreciations, and methods of work. In our discussion of the native reactions of children, we have endeavored to show that the possibilities of such accomplishment are the common possession of normal children. It is for the teacher who would accomplish these ends most economically to discover the instinctive basis for the habit to be formed, the knowledge to be acquired, interest to be awakened, or appreciation to be aroused. The instinctive interests of children will furnish the most powerful motives, and will serve as a basis for the most lasting results. Even when the native reaction is undesirable, the successful process may depend not merely upon negation, but upon a grafting upon the original tendency of one that is socially desirable; or, in other cases, the substitution of another reaction based upon some other instinctive tendency. We may not always follow where instinct seems to lead, but we can never ignore these native tendencies. Whether we blindly ignore or attempt to work against nature, or wisely utilize the instincts, the fact remains that all of our work is conditioned by the native equipment.

It has become more or less the fashion in recent years to decry the theory of those who discuss the teaching process from the standpoint of the child’s native tendencies, and with due regard to his interests. The reactionary who continually harks back to the good old times is still with us. The term of ridicule most commonly used in lieu of argument is “soft pedagogy.” We are told that the only way to develop men and women of strength is to begin by making sure that we make our appeal on the basis of our superior authority, or even brute strength, instead of finding the foundation for our work in the instinctive curiosity and tendency to mental activity with which children come to us. It is presumed by those who argue on the side of the importance of authority that, unless children are compelled by others to do hard tasks, they will never attempt anything that involves effort. Again, they interpret interest to mean the blind following of the child’s instinctive tendencies.

In our previous discussion we endeavored to show that education concerns itself quite as much with the inhibition of undesirable tendencies as with the encouragement of those which lead to desirable activity. The process is not one of following where children lead, but rather of availing ourselves of the native tendencies in order that the ends we desire to achieve may be accomplished with the least waste of time or energy. In reality, the choice between the two positions is not whether we will have regard for childish instincts and capacities, but rather whether we shall approach our task from the standpoint of one who has faith in an appeal to the lower motive of fear, or whether we believe that children are best prepared for later activity who work out their own problems.

The best teaching can never consist in driving pupils to tasks which they do not understand and which have little significance for them. The standard of efficiency is found in ability to present to the child a need, a purpose, or a problem which solicits his attention. It may be that we shall be but imperfectly able to accomplish this result, but, nevertheless, this must be our ideal. And it is not for reasons of sentiment that we adopt it. The learning process is explained in this way only. We make a new adjustment, reconstruct our experience only in a situation which makes such a demand upon us. When a child is compelled to do a piece of school work without realizing the significance of that which he does, there is substituted for this realization of need or problem an artificial need; namely, to avoid an unpleasant consequence.

There is another important argument which must not be overlooked. When a child works under compulsion, he usually gives just as little attention to his work as may be necessary to escape painful results. It is not uncommon for children to divide their attention most skillfully between distasteful school tasks and the out-of-school activities in which they are vitally interested. This lack of undivided attention to the work in hand results in a habit of work which cannot fail to be disastrous to the highest intellectual attainment. It is true also that children who have been subjected to such treatment come to look upon books and lessons as something of a nightmare, and are only too glad when the opportunity presents itself to leave school and go to work. The child’s attitude, growing out of his school experience, is quite as important as any result which we may achieve in knowledge.

Professor Dewey’s summary of the relation of interest and effort defines most adequately interest in its true significance, and indicates the place of effort in educative process. He says:—

“Genuine interest in education is the accompaniment of the identification, through action, of the self with some object or idea, because of the necessity of that object or idea for the maintenance of self-expression. Effort, in the sense in which it may be opposed to interest, implies a separation between the self and the fact to be mastered or the task to be performed, and sets up an habitual division of activities. Externally, we have mechanical habits with no psychical end or value. Internally, we have random energy or mind-wandering, a sequence of ideas with no end at all because not brought to a focus in action. Interest, in the sense in which it is opposed to effort, means simply an excitation of the sense organ to give pleasure, resulting in strain on one side and listlessness on the other.

“But when we recognize there are certain powers within the child urgent for development, needing to be acted upon, in order to secure their own due efficiency and discipline, we have a firm basis upon which to build. Effort arises normally in the attempt to give full operation, and thus growth and completion, to these powers. Adequately to act upon these impulses involves seriousness, absorption, definiteness of purpose, and results in formation of steadiness and persistent habit in the service of worthy ends. But this effort never degenerates into drudgery, nor mere strain of dead lift, because interest abides—the self is concerned throughout.”[3]

Interest, as Professor Dewey defines it, is intrinsic. The pupil does his work not because he hopes to escape some punishment or get a high mark, but because the work of itself commands his attention. The teacher must constantly choose whether she will work for interest of this type, which depends upon the recognition of the worth of the task to be performed, or resort to an interest which has no relation to the work to be done. Shall she appeal to the child through his instinctive delight in finding out, in constructive work, or other form of expression, or shall she appeal to his instinct of fear of a whipping or dislike of ridicule or nagging?

It is true that, after the teacher has done her best to appeal on the basis of the child’s needs for growth and development, not all children will respond equally, and so, as in the larger society outside of school, the child will need to be kept from interfering with others, and required to do that which those who are wiser have decided that it is advantageous for him to do. But this resort to authority, an acknowledgment of lack of ability on our part or the result of unfavorable conditions, must come last; it should never be the point of departure.

There is one other distinction which it is well to keep in mind when we think of interest. Our discussion thus far has considered interest as a means for securing certain desirable ends. We may not forget that to secure interest which will persist in many of the types of activity found in the school should be considered as an end worthy in itself.[4] We may hope to have a boy interested in his history lesson in order that he may gain the knowledge contained in this subject. Interest is the means we employ to secure the desired result. On the other hand, we may hope that the boy we teach will continue to be interested in history throughout his life. In this latter case the interest which we hope to secure in history becomes an end for which we work. As a result of any system of education, we are justified in expecting, not only an increase in the command of facts and in a knowledge of the best method of procedure in working in subjects taught, but also in hoping for the development of lasting interests which will make for a continuance of the period of education and for greater joy in life.

Heredity in Education: An inquiry into opposing theories of heredity is not relevant to our main purpose; but we are concerned with certain facts, commonly accepted, which condition our work. No one will dispute the fact that the children assembled in any schoolroom differ in native capacity, as well as in experience. Whether genius or its lack are apt to be reproduced in the children of gifted or dull parents is not the question the teacher has to solve. For her the demand is too often that she turn out a uniform product from a group of individuals who range from the genius to the dullard or mental defective. It is well for teachers to realize that in any non-selected group the majority of individuals may be expected to be of ordinary ability, and that a few will range above this standard, and a few will fall below. The important thing to remember is that a group of normal children cannot be ranged in ability in two or three distinct groups with clearly defined boundaries, but that if any adequate test be given, we will find that they distribute themselves over a wide range, with small rather than large differences between individuals. For example: if a searching test in fundamental operations of arithmetic is given, we know that some child will probably get nearly all of the work done correctly, and, even with our care in grading, some child in the group will probably fail in more than half of the work; and that between these two extremes we will have almost every grade of ability represented, with a tendency for a considerable number to group themselves at about that point which we consider ordinary or average ability.[5] Not only is it true that individuals differ in ability of any particular sort, but it is also true that the child who has little ability in one direction may be up to the average or have more than usual ability in some other direction. In our teaching we should have a minimum standard of efficiency for all who are not mentally defective, and we should strive earnestly to have all reach this goal. If wisely selected, this minimum will include that which is absolutely necessary for further advancement along the line of work pursued. The majority of the class should achieve results beyond this minimum, and for the exceptionally bright child the maximum should be fixed only by the child’s ability and the requirements of good health. It is useless to attempt to make all alike; it is wrong to limit the accomplishment of the gifted by the capacity of the majority; these are the lessons which the consideration of the capacities of any group of children should teach. We cannot furnish ability, but we may create an attitude of listlessness and mental laziness, if we do not give the bright child enough to do. Education demands a recognition of peculiar abilities and their nurture. We can never create genius from mediocre ability, and we may not assume that genius is irrepressible.

For Collateral Reading

E. L. Thorndike, Principles of Teaching, Chapters V and VI.

E. L. Thorndike, Individuality.

E. A. Kirkpatrick, Fundamentals of Child Study, Chapter IV.

Exercises.

1. What institutions contribute to the education of children?

2. Why has the responsibility of the school increased during the past century?

3. How would you justify compulsory education? Medical examination? Compulsory dental treatment?

4. Why do changed social conditions demand changed methods of instruction as well as a different curriculum?

5. Why does the teacher need to know the home life of the children in her class?

6. What is the significance of parents’ and mothers’ clubs, or any other organization of the teachers and the patrons of the school?

7. Why should teachers participate in the campaign against tuberculosis?

8. Give instances from your own experience of the educative value of play.

9. Why can a boy write a better composition about making a kite than on “Honesty is the best policy”?

10. What is the objection to providing children with model compositions and asking them to write on closely related themes?

11. Give examples of a proper appeal to the instinct of emulation.

12. How do you account for the fact that in some classes children seldom ask questions?

13. What value is there in a collection of birds’ nests, flowers, minerals, woods, and the like, which one finds in some schoolrooms?

14. How would you hope to develop the social instinct in the pupils you teach?

15. Give the children in your class ten problems in addition, score one for each column added correctly, and compare the results. Can a teacher create ability?

16. In a city school system forty per cent of the children have been retarded one or more years during their school life. Do you think that differences in ability justify the repeating of work one or more years by so large a percentage of the children?

17. Should we try to have children develop equal ability in all of their studies, or rather encourage them to do especially well in one or two subjects?

18. Should a pupil who receives only forty per cent in his arithmetic examination be compelled to repeat the grade?

19. State the argument of those who believe that disagreeable, uninteresting work is most valuable in educating children.

20. What reasons can you give for the demand that teachers secure the interest of their pupils in school work?

21. Why is it bad intellectually for a child to divide his interest between his school work and some other activity while doing school work?

22. There is always some motive present when work is accomplished in the school. If the pupil is not interested in his work, what motives will you be apt to find in operation?

23. Does the demand that children take an interest in their work mean that we will require them to do only the sort of work which is easy for them?

24. Name three situations in school work in which you would seek to use interest as a means. Three cases in which you would consider interests as ends.

25. In which situation will a boy write the better letter: when asked to write a letter as a class exercise, or when he writes to his uncle about their plans for his summer vacation?

26. The ends which we desire to attain may be relatively near or remote. Classify the following aims presented to children according to (1) the remoteness of the end to be achieved, (2) the interest which you would expect children to take in the work for which these aims are supposed to furnish some motive. Suppose the class to be a seventh-grade group of boys.

1. Learn how to build a boat.
2. Become a writer of good English.
3. Gain in skill in the process of dovetailing.
4. Write for a catalog of sets of tools for boys.
5. Find out why England maintains the largest navy in the world.
6. Prepare a description of the building of the Panama Canal.
7. Decide why so many Russians come to the United States.
8. Make the drawings for a sled to be built for his own use.
9. Make a rabbit trap from plans furnished by the teacher.
10. Study algebra to get ready to go to college.
11. Write a story of an interclass basket-ball game for the school paper.
12. Enjoy one of Kipling’s stories.

CHAPTER III
THE TEACHING PROCESS

Education means change, growth, development. The process is one of adjustment in which the individual is not only affected by his environment, but is also capable, in turn, of changing or even in a measure creating the situation in which he lives. The experience of any individual grows in meaning and significance through successive demands for new adjustments. Among the lower animal forms there are those who have very little power of adjustment; regardless of the situation presented, they can react only in one way, or, as the animal structure increases in complexity, in a very few ways. The power of adjustment being small, the possibilities of learning and of education are small. As has already been indicated in our discussion of instincts, human beings are equipped with many tendencies to react, and with power to react in a very great variety of ways. Man has power beyond all other animals to profit by experience, and is distinguished from them by his power to learn by means of ideas, not simply by the process of trial and error. Our problem is, then, to inquire concerning the conditions under which a situation demands adjustment, under which experience is reconstructed, and, further, to discuss the manner in which socially desirable reactions may be made the permanent possession of the learner, while those inimical to social welfare are eliminated.

In general adjustments are made in response to one of the following situations: (1) when satisfaction of some instinctive need results; (2) when satisfaction of an idea of an end to be reached, the attainment of which will satisfy some instinctive or acquired need, results; (3) when satisfaction of an acquired need, functioning at the time the adjustment is made, is the immediate result. In these cases a type of adjustment not instinctively demanded and not originally in itself pleasing reaches a point where it is in itself satisfying. The value of the experience is intrinsic.

Little need be said concerning the first class of adjustments in addition to our discussion of instincts in the previous chapter. When one finds himself in a situation which threatens bodily harm, he instinctively tries to get out of the way. In the presence of materials, children instinctively handle them, or make a noise with them, or attempt to construct something. The schoolboy, with his questions, his collection of stamps, his adherence to his gang, is making adjustments which satisfy instinctive needs.

Under the second class are included reactions in which the satisfaction of the instinctive need is not the immediate result, and those cases where satisfaction may be explained only by reference to an acquired need. The essential characteristic of this class of adjustments is the fact that the idea intervenes. It is for the satisfaction of our idea of an end which may be remote for which the adjustment is made. A pupil may try to read well because he has the idea that reading well pleases the teacher. The end desired may be simply to get along with the teacher without the discomfort of a scolding, or because of his instinctive desire for praise. A boy may labor diligently in building a sled because of his idea of the pleasure which will result to himself or possibly to others. A group of children may save their pennies to buy books, instead of satisfying their desire for candy, because of their idea of satisfaction to be derived from the books to be bought. A man may endure many hardships because of his idea of future wealth, political preferment, fame, or other good which he hopes will result.

After a time activities which were stimulated by the idea of a satisfactory end to be achieved may be repeated for their own sake. This gives us our third class of adjustments. The boy may find it very difficult to spend five hours a day with books, while the man finds his chief delight in this form of activity, altogether aside from a result beyond his present satisfaction. A child may begin to read because of the authority of the teacher and his fear of unpleasant consequences, and yet may later come to find great delight in reading. In teaching we should strive to bring as many as possible of the adjustments to be made under this last category. The boy or girl who finds his greatest satisfaction in making the adjustments, in gaining the experience, in doing the work that the school provides, is getting the best possible preparation for the life of the man or woman who finds his own greatest joy in his everyday activity. We need not be discouraged because of the seeming impossibility of the task, since its achievement would indicate perfection, toward which we strive, and which, because it is perfection, we never achieve. Adjustments are to be made, experiences must be had; and our appeal, whether based upon the satisfaction of instinctive tendencies, the idea of ends near or remote, or the satisfaction of acquired needs which are socially advantageous, must be the highest appeal which can now be made with the assurance that the resulting reaction will be secured.

There is one point which all of these situations which call for adjustment have in common; that is, satisfaction. This fact is fundamental in teaching. Not only are we limited in our work by native tendencies and capacities, but the results must give satisfaction, else the reaction induced will tend not to be repeated. Of course satisfaction or pleasure is a relative term; possibly it would be fairer to say that the individual reacts in the way which will result in the least dissatisfaction or pain. A boy may dislike to write in a copybook, but he may prefer that to a whipping or to being kept after school. There is one other possible misconception which must be guarded against. That which the individual considers most satisfactory may not be best for his well-being, nor for the welfare of others with whom he associates. It is the work of the teacher to encourage adjustments which are socially desirable, and to make unpleasant the results which are socially disadvantageous, even though they originally gave satisfaction to the individual.

Corresponding to the types of adjustment mentioned above are the types of attention. When the adjustment is made in response to an instinctive tendency to react, we have what is called passive or involuntary attention. The boy who looks at the door when it opens, who makes a paper boat instead of doing his work in arithmetic, or who talks to his neighbor about the ball game they are to play after school, is passive so far as any attempt to control his mental activities is concerned. He is following the line of least resistance. He does not will to make these adjustments, or to attend to these things; hence we say that he attends involuntarily, that he is passive in the situation.

A second type of attention is that in which the individual makes an adjustment, follows a given line of activity, voluntarily. He is active in his determination to accomplish certain ends, and in order to secure these results he resists the tendency to wander, to give his attention to other elements in the situation which may be natively more attractive. This type of attention we call active. We have this type of attention wherever the individual works for the satisfaction of his idea of an end worthy to be accomplished. It corresponds to the second class of adjustments mentioned above.

Through the exercise of active attention over a considerable period, the necessity for effort, for the exercise of the will in order that we may not wander from the main purpose, becomes less and less, until finally a passive attitude is again reached. This type of attention is designated as secondary passive attention.[6] It corresponds to the third type of adjustments named above.

In teaching, we begin most frequently with passive attention; we work most earnestly to secure and to hold active attention; and if our work is successful, children will reach the stage of secondary passive attention, at least with reference to some of the activities found in the school.

In the first grade, in the beginning reading class, the teacher appeals to the children on the basis of their instinctive delight in movement, their desire to be like or to excel others, their pleasure in drawing with pencil or crayon, their love of a good story, and other like instinctive tendencies to react. The adjustments made are in response to instinctive needs, and the attention is largely passive. Gradually, as the work progresses, the ends to be achieved will become more remote, and instead of immediate satisfaction of instinctive needs, the children will work for the satisfaction of their ideas of ends which are desirable, whether based on instinctive or acquired needs. They may work diligently in the phonic or word drill because they have the idea that this must be done in order to read the story, and the end ultimately to be satisfied may be to give pleasure to others. The adjustment is made here in response to the idea of an end to be secured, which represents the satisfaction of a need which probably has been acquired in the school or at home. Later in the history of these same children they may read, overcoming whatever difficulties may present themselves, simply because this process is for them in itself worth while. Here we have the adjustment which gives immediate satisfaction of an acquired need, and the type of attention which has been designated as secondary passive.

The problem for the teacher is to secure continued attention to one thing. Almost any exercise which the school offers will be interesting for a brief time because it is something new. The difficult task is not to get attention, but to hold it. Children attend to the situation at hand just as long as it proves more attractive than some other. The boy who is called inattentive may be most attentive to the plan he is making to earn money to go to the circus. The teacher must endeavor to discover ends sufficiently attractive to command the active attention of children for a considerable period. The child must be willing to exert himself, and the motive for his effort must be strong enough to bring him back to the task in hand every time that he tends to wander. Often the success of the work will depend upon a recognition of the fact that it is very difficult to attend for any considerable period to a situation in which the elements do not vary. We may secure continued concentrated attention by recognizing the fact that variety in procedure, or in appeal, will make it possible for the child to keep his attention fixed. Take, for example, a topic in geography. The teacher will question to bring out different aspects of a topic, show the children pictures or use illustrative materials, have children read the map, tell a story or incident relating to the situation under consideration, and in this manner keep children actively thinking on one topic for half an hour. We shall discuss at some length the problem of aim, in connection with the inductive development lesson. Suffice to say here that often we fail to secure the continued attention of children because we ask them to attend to that which for them lacks interest or significance.

Children work hardest when the problem to be solved is one that they recognize as their own. They make adjustments which mean immediate satisfaction, or which they believe will ultimately give satisfaction. Our difficulty is often that the end we set up is too remote. The idea of becoming a well educated man will not ordinarily be powerful enough to keep a boy at work on a composition, but the desire to be the author of a paragraph in the school paper, to write to a boy in another city or country, or to compose part of a drama which the class will act for their friends, may mean the hardest sort of work, the most concentrated attention of which he is capable.

The children with whom we work come to us with tendencies to react, and are capable of reacting in a great variety of ways. They learn by making adjustments to a great variety of situations. The teaching process consists in providing the situations and the stimuli to action, in guiding the individual in such a way that the undesirable reactions will be eliminated by disuse or because the results are unpleasant, in making permanent desirable native reactions or those which have been grafted upon or derived from them by making the results pleasant.

The teaching process is, in general, as described above; but the actual work of the teacher varies greatly as she strives now for one end and again for another. There is a methodology of habit formation which the teacher must command if she is to do successful work in equipping her pupils with desirable habits. If our problem is one that lends itself to the inductive method, we have one sort of procedure; while if the thinking involved is deductive, certain other elements enter. There is a kind of work in which we aim primarily for appreciation, and at another time we are chiefly concerned in teaching children how to study. The proper conduct of a review or examination, and the type of exercise commonly known as a recitation lesson, need to be discussed in some detail. In the chapters which immediately follow, each of these types of schoolroom exercises will be considered. Success in teaching consists quite as much in working definitely for well defined ends which may be accomplished in this fifteen minutes, this half hour, or during this week, as in keeping in mind the more general aims of education. Indeed, the only way in which we can secure the larger ends is by successfully achieving the lesser tasks. The teacher who knows that she has fixed this desirable habit of thought, feeling, or action, that this bit of knowledge has taken its place in a usable system, that this ideal or purpose has been awakened, that certain methods of work are available for the group of children whom she is teaching,—that teacher can be sure that she is fulfilling her mission.

For Collateral Reading

E. J. Swift, Mind in the Making, Chapter VI.

E. A. Kirkpatrick, Genetic Psychology, Chapter X.

Exercises.

1. When a teacher raps her pencil against a desk and the children look toward her, what is the type of adjustment made? When will they cease to pay attention to the rap of the pencil? What suggestion would you offer concerning the danger which may be found in rapping the pencil against the desk, ringing a bell, clapping the hands, shouting “be quiet”?

2. Name some exercises in arithmetic in which you may depend somewhat upon instinctive adjustments to insure progress.

3. Where do you think you will find the most instinctive adjustments,—in geography, arithmetic, drawing, English composition, or physical training?

4. A boy who had done poor work in algebra improved greatly when changed from a class taught by a man to one taught by a woman. How would you account for the change, taking it for granted that the teachers were equally competent? What type of adjustment did the boy make?

5. Why is it that any new subject will prove attractive for a short time, and children will later show a lack of interest in the work?

6. Is there any difference between making a class period interesting and finding a motive which appeals to children which will lead them to desire to cover the material which you have assigned?

7. Which is the better, to have a girl study her geography lesson to please the teacher or to have her at work trying to solve a problem in which she is interested?

8. What sort of results do teachers secure who compel children to learn their lessons through fear of being ridiculed or otherwise punished? If these children know as much as other children whose teacher has them at work satisfying their idea of pleasure,—which will result in being able to read well to the class, prepare their part of the class drama, or investigate in fields in which they are much interested,—would you, then, consider the first sort of teaching as satisfactory as the second?

9. To what degree can you depend upon the awakening of intellectual interests to provide a motive for good work on the part of pupils?

10. Do you think the following list of questions would prove intellectually stimulating to a group of sixth-grade pupils:—

“Where is Philadelphia? What is the capital of New York? What are the principal rivers of the Middle Atlantic states? Where is Pittsburgh? For what is Pittsburgh noted? What river forms the eastern boundary of Pennsylvania? Bound Virginia. Locate the capitals of the states in this group. Name two valuable products raised near the coast. Describe the surface of this group of states.”

11. How many children in your class find satisfaction in their school work sufficient to keep them at it if no marks were given and no one compelled them to attend school? Are there some subjects or parts of subjects where you secure this sort of enthusiasm for school work? Why do you succeed better in these phases of school work than in others?

12. What is wrong with the boy who is quiet during the recitation, apparently absorbed in the work, but who gets nothing out of it?

13. Why does the teacher who speaks in a loud tone of voice in order to compel attention have to speak louder and louder as the day advances?

14. What is wrong with a class which does good work in long division at the beginning of the arithmetic period, and very poor work at the end of thirty minutes?

15. Give examples of passive attention, active attention, and secondary passive attention, from your own classroom work.

16. Describe the situations in which you believe your children did the best intellectual work. How do you account for the excellence of this work?

CHAPTER IV
THE DRILL LESSON

Many responses of thought and action must be reduced to an automatic basis. It is the function of the drill lesson to accomplish this result. In some schools this type of work has been overemphasized, while in others it has been neglected. It is a mistake to spend the whole of a child’s time and energy drilling him upon that which some one else has thought. He must think for himself while a child, if he is to show intellectual strength as a man. And it is just as much a mistake to believe that the greatest progress in thought or action can be achieved without careful attention to the formation of desirable habits. Probably there is little need to-day to argue against this conception of teaching, which makes the teacher simply and solely a drill master. Our respect for the native tendencies and for the experiences of children, our emphasis upon doing, our belief that the best preparation for future efficiency is to be found in present childish efficiency, all refute any such narrow view of the educative process. There is, however, in some quarters a danger that this insistence upon thinking and doing may be construed to mean that drill work is no longer necessary. There are children who are terribly handicapped in their later work because they have not learned to spell common words, to write a legible hand, to give without hesitation the addition combinations, to reproduce the multiplication tables, to use without much thought the processes commonly employed in arithmetic work. They find difficulty in reading, because they lack that knowledge of phonetics which would make easy the recognition of unfamiliar words in their reading; they stumble in geography, fail in music, lack ability to comprehend their work in nature study or history, all because facts essential to further progress, once presented and understood, were not reduced to an automatic basis by carefully conducted drill exercises. If it is clear that much of the knowledge which children acquire must be reduced to the basis of habit, we may next inquire just how this drill work is to be related to the other part of the school work.

Question of motive: In the formation of habits not provided for by native tendencies to react, the occasion for making the adjustment is, as in the case of our thinking, the recognition of a need. Our first attempts to talk or to use our limbs were due solely to the compelling force of instinct, but later we learned a foreign language or achieved success in the high jump because we had a definite aim in mind. So far as the teacher is concerned with habit formation, she can hope to utilize instinctive tendencies, but may not depend upon them alone to secure the result. A motive must be provided for the work. The stronger this incentive, the greater will be the attention given to the work in hand and the sooner will the desired result be secured. Very much of the drill work which is done is well-nigh futile because it is imposed upon children. They do not see its significance, and feel little interest in the accomplishment of the results demanded.

Ideally, drill lessons should come when the children see that their future progress is conditioned by successful formation of the habits involved. And this is not so impossible of accomplishment as might appear at first sight. If the material given to children to read in the first grade is of such a nature that they really care to read it, they are very quick to see that word drill, and later phonetic drill, will help them to secure the end desired. Of course the reply may be made: “What is the use of bothering one’s self with this attempt to make a rational appeal to children? They will be completely satisfied if you simply keep them at it. It is a game for them. They enjoy it simply because they delight in accomplishment.” One might reply to such a statement by calling to mind the fact that the school exists to develop rationality. You may be perfectly sure that frequently enough the children, and later the men and women, will be driven or led without any appeal to reason. It will undoubtedly be true that we shall have to appeal to motives other than rational; but surely this appeal to reason should be made, and, if our education is successful, should be increasingly potent as we advance from grade to grade. Even when a rational motive has been made the point of departure, we shall have to use many devices to keep alive the child’s original intention. But let us frankly admit, both to ourselves and to the children, that these subsidiary aims are merely aids in helping us to achieve the more worthy aim. If such a standard of motive were applied throughout our work, we should probably find it necessary to postpone certain activities which we insist upon for no reason which a child can understand, until there was some real use for the habit to be formed. We might even find ourselves compelled to eliminate much which finds no application in real life. The occasion for drill is found in the demand for automatic control of thought or action, and much of the later success of the children in thinking and doing will be conditioned by the quality of the work done in these drill exercises.

Knowing what to do: A clear idea of the result to be accomplished is, of course, involved in the notion or aim as it has been discussed above. The importance of this element in habit formation cannot be overemphasized. It may seem superfluous to call attention to the fact that every child should have a clear idea of what is to be done before the drill work begins; but it sometimes happens that the teacher takes too much for granted. Children stumble and fail, or do nothing at all, simply because they do not know what it is all about. It would seem impossible that any group of pupils should be asked to commit to memory anything which they did not understand, and yet we are constantly reminded by their later interpretations that they have not understood. Such logical organization is not always possible, nor, indeed, even desirable, as, for example, in learning addition combinations. In such a case the value of the habit is largely due to the fact that we no longer attempt to rationalize the process nor attempt to fix it in a logical series. But whether the task be the memorizing of a poem, the learning of addition combinations, the formation of the habit of neatness, or the gaining of skill in handling a saw, it is essential that the child know just what is to be done and that he be provided with an adequate motive for doing it.

Repetition with attention: After a child knows what to do, has the right idea, and the greatest possible motive for doing has been provided, the teacher’s problem consists in keeping alive the desire to achieve the result while the process of repetition is going on. A child learns to spell a word not simply because he repeats the letters or writes them in the correct order a hundred times. We all have knowledge of cases in which this sort of repetition has seemingly resulted in no advancement. The most economical method of learning to spell requires that the maximum of attention be given while the letters are repeated. The story of the boy who, after he had written after school the phrase “I have gone” a hundred times, wrote at the bottom of his paper for the information of the teacher, who had left the room, “I have went home,” is a case in point. The trouble with this boy was not that he had not repeated the correct form often enough, but that he had not attended to it. He had failed to realize the significance of what he was doing. Doubtless his attention, instead of being fixed on the work in hand, was more largely given to the game of baseball his companions were playing, or to the prospect of the delights of the swimming pool. Much of the concert work that one hears shows a lack of attention on the part of the larger part of the class except in so far as is necessary to follow the leaders. Such work is undoubtedly helpful to those who lead, but it is of little use to the others who take part. It is a very good plan to test concert work by listening closely to distinguish those who are carrying the burden, have them stop, and measure the success of the work by the result which can then be had.

Means of holding attention: No matter how strong the motive with which we start, any one of us will grow weary when the task imposed requires many repetitions. It is even more difficult for children to keep their attention fixed for any considerable length of time. We must, therefore, plan carefully to conduct the drill in such a way that the maximum of attention may be secured. Among the devices which are employed, one of the most important is variation in procedure. Suppose, for example, we wish to spend ten minutes in drilling children on addition combinations. The best results will not be secured by spending the whole time in either oral or written work. Probably the maximum of attention and consequently of result could be secured by dividing the period into three parts: one devoted to oral work, holding every one responsible for every answer; one to written work on a series of problems provided on number cards or mimeographed sheets; and one to work of the same sort placed on the blackboard. Of course there is nothing peculiarly good in the order of exercises suggested above, beyond the fact that they give variety. The next day the teacher would want to change the order or to introduce a new type of exercise.

Another means of securing the maximum of attention is to place a time limit. Have the children see how many problems they can solve, how many stanzas they can commit to memory, or how many words they can learn to spell in a period of ten minutes. It makes a very great difference whether the teacher says “work on this task for ten minutes,” or “see how much you can get done in ten minutes.”

This leads us to consider a third means commonly employed to secure earnest work, the appeal to emulation. The desire of a pupil to do as well as other members of his class, or the desire of a class to equal the record of another class of the same grade, will do much to keep attention fixed on the work. Neither the devices mentioned nor any others will avail unless the teacher is wide-awake and alert herself. The greatest single reason for lack of interest and attention on the part of the class is found in the indifference and lack of energy on the part of the teacher. It is useless to expect vigorous action on the part of pupils, when the teacher is half asleep or otherwise either physically or mentally incapacitated for good work. It is possible at times for a teacher to arouse her own flagging interest by just such appeals as have been suggested above as applying to children.

Necessity for accuracy in practice: Our nervous system is so constructed that to do anything once leaves a tendency to do the same thing the same way when next we are placed in a similar situation. It is bad to allow careless work or random guessing, not simply because the result in this one case may be wrong, but more especially because the tendency to the wrong reaction is there and must be overcome before the correct action can be fixed as a habit. If a child, the day after he has studied the word foreign, has occasion to write the word and does not know how to spell it, it is a mistake to permit the word to be written incorrectly. It would be better to have the child discover for himself or find out from the teacher the correct form before attempting to write the word. It is well to insist on the necessity for absolute accuracy. Better by far discontinue the drill while every one is still fresh enough to give close attention to the work in hand and while the responses are accurate, than to make the serious mistake of allowing the work to be done carelessly or to flatter one’s self that approximately accurate results are good enough. Better be sure that in the drill work on the multiplication table to-day the children have invariably given the correct response when we have asked them how many are six times three and six times four, than to have attempted to teach the whole table with the knowledge that one fourth of the answers have been wrong. We should not be misled; the child who gave us a wrong answer is not simply wrong this time, but, what for us is more important, will tend to be wrong ever after. We have more than doubled the task we set out to accomplish. We must now get rid of the tendency to give the wrong answer, and then teach the correct one. In our later consideration of the moral life of the child, we shall have occasion again to point out the significance of this principle.

The periods elapsing between repetitions or series of repetitions should be gradually lengthened: The fixing of a habit so that it shall always thereafter be available to determine our thought or action requires that we do more than arrive at a point where the response can be readily secured in a given situation. The word which your pupils spell so readily, the table which they recite so glibly, the poem which they have so completely mastered, will apparently have completely disappeared next week or next month. Of course the work you have done is not without effect. It will be easier to learn the word, table, or poem again. But the child should command these results for which we labored now. There is a body of knowledge, a group of actions, which ought to be available automatically at any time. If we are to succeed in fixing this body of habits, if they are to be made permanently available, we must recognize the fact that when we have first secured the result desired we have only begun the process. The boy who recites Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address without any mistakes to-day has made a good beginning; but if that address is worth remembering always, he must recite it several times during the next week, and go over it again next month, next term, and next year. There will come a time, depending upon his native retentiveness and upon his method of memorizing, when it will no longer be necessary to repeat it for the sake of fixing the address in memory. It will not take a great deal of time to recall that which we believe we have fixed permanently last week or last month, and by doing this we shall add greatly to the probability of possible recall a year or ten years from now, and incidentally discover, much to our surprise, how much has already escaped.

Teachers often unconsciously follow the cramming method in their attempt to have children advance rapidly; and, as is always the case when this method is employed, what has apparently been learned is soon forgotten. Fortunately for all concerned, many of the responses which need to be reduced to an automatic basis are demanded over and over again as the child progresses from grade to grade, and are thus provided for. But much that is now lost could be retained, and each succeeding teacher could accomplish more than is now customary, if only this principle of habit formation were commonly observed.

In the case of a series of responses to be made automatic, be careful to include each member of the series: Much of our work is weak because it lacks system. If we are engaged in teaching addition combinations, we should be absolutely certain that we have taught every possible combination. If we want to be sure that children know how to write numbers up to one million, we must have given them drill on all of the possible difficulties. If children are always to respond correctly when problems involving two steps in reasoning are presented, we must have been careful to provide for the purpose of drill all of the combinations of situations involving addition, multiplication, subtraction, and division which can occur. For any other similar field, the same care must be exercised.

The greater part of the time should be spent in drilling upon that part of the work which presents special difficulty. There is no use in spending one’s time equally on all of the words included in any list. Some of them can probably be spelled with little or no drill, while others may require very careful study and many repetitions. In any other field the same situation will be found. Many of the responses desired will be reduced to the basis of habit readily, and a few will require continued attention. It is the function of the teacher to discover these special difficulties as soon as possible, to clear up any obscurity in ideas which may stand in the way, and then to drill with special reference to these special cases.

Briefly summarized, it is the function of the teacher in guiding pupils in the formation of habits to see to it that they have the correct idea of the thing to be done; to secure the maximum of motive and to maintain the maximum of attention during the process; to guard against carelessness and lapses by insisting upon the accuracy or the adequacy of the responses; to provide occasion for repetitions from time to time with gradually lengthened intervals; to be careful not to omit any of a group or series of responses equally important; to spend the greater part of the time and energy of both herself and pupils upon those cases which present special difficulty.

For Collateral Reading

W. C. Bagley, The Educative Process, Chapter XXII.

S. H. Rowe, Habit Formation and the Science of Teaching, Chapter XIII.

Exercises.

1. Name the subjects or parts of subjects in which drill work is essential.

2. What was there of value in the old-fashioned method of choosing sides and “spelling down”?

3. Name some of the devices which you have used in drill work, and justify their use.

4. What argument can you advance for postponing the beginning of writing lessons until the middle of the first year or later?

5. Which would be better: to present the multiplication table in regular series (3 × 1 = 3; 3 × 2 = 6; 3 × 3 = 9, etc.), or in some other order? (3 × 5 = 15; 3 × 2 = 6; 3 × 7 = 21; 3 × 4 = 12, etc.)

6. If a boy was writing a composition and wanted to use a word that he did not know how to spell, what would you expect him to do?

7. What are the objections to learning rules of spelling?

8. In a drill lesson in arithmetic, which would you consider the better: to have the children work as individuals for the highest score, or to divide them into groups and have one group try to do better than the other?

9. Criticize the following lesson, as a fourth-grade exercise in spelling. The teacher placed the following list of words on the board, and told the pupils to study them.

10. A teacher who spent a large part of her time having the class recite the multiplication tables in concert was distressed to find that a majority of the class did not know the tables when examination time came. What was the explanation?

11. In a school where the children had a forty-minute period for a writing lesson, the results during the last ten minutes were invariably poorer than during the first quarter of the period. How could you hope to change the result?

12. In some schools the teachers always spend two weeks before the examination period in review of the term’s work. Why are such reviews necessary in some cases, while children do just as well in examinations in other schools which do not have this review period?

13. A teacher taught children that they could always tell how much nine times any number was by subtracting one from that number for the tens place, then adding a number which will make nine for the units place (e.g. 5 × 9 = ? 5 - 1 = 4 (tens); 4 + 5 = 9. ∴ 5 is the number of units, and 5 × 9 = 45). Is this a good way to teach this table?

14. How can you know when it is wise to discontinue drill work?

15. Do you think it necessary to plan for a drill lesson?

16. Could you plan your work so that your pupils will know at the end of the year all of the poems you have taught during the previous eight or ten months?

CHAPTER V
THE INDUCTIVE LESSON

We are skeptical to-day of that sort of teaching which aims mainly to equip children with a body of accepted knowledge in order that they may some time find use for this body of information in later life. We emphasize, rather, the control of mental activity which makes for the discovery of truth and the avoidance of error. Thinking of this sort is purposeful. We control or direct our ideas toward some end, toward the solution of some problem. One great purpose of teaching must be to provide the opportunity and the stimulus for this kind of thinking. We may not be able to lay down any fixed order of procedure, nor to devise any set of rules whereby children may be trained to be good reasoners; but we can consider what is involved in the process, point out the possibilities of interference, and suggest some of the means to be employed in encouraging this type of mental activity on the part of children. In this chapter we shall confine ourselves to that type of reasoning which we call inductive. This type of schoolroom exercise has usually been treated as composed of five steps; namely, preparation, presentation, comparison and abstraction, generalization, and application. We shall employ this classification to guide us in our discussion of the process.

Preparation: To prepare a child to reason in a given situation from the data in hand to the conclusions which must of necessity follow, it is first of all necessary that he should see that the situation presents a problem. We reason only when we have some aim or purpose which can be satisfied by the process. But if consciousness of aim or problem is at the foundation of this type of thinking, and if we are to deal with children in groups, it is essential that the situation which involves the problem be made the common possession of all. The step of preparation presents these two problems to the teacher: (1) to find a basis in experience already had, or to provide the experience which involves the problem to be considered; (2) to make the children feel the necessity for the solution, i.e. to make the problem vital to them.

In considering the necessity for common experience as a basis for discovering the problem to children, we are dealing with the principle of apperception. Briefly stated, it is this,—that any object or situation has meaning for us only as it connects itself with and is interpreted by our previous experience. Suppose, for example, that a group of first-grade children were asked to tell what made seeds grow. It is possible that some of them would not know, could not interpret from past experience, the meaning of seeds. If the class were at work in a large city, we could be sure that many had never been conscious that growing plants had any connection with seeds, and there would be few, if any, who had ever noticed the conditions under which such growth takes place. The first problem for the teacher in this case would be solved only when, through recall of past experiences, observations, or experiments, the experience “seeds growing” became the common possession of the group. This is an extreme case, one in which the experience which involves the problem is entirely wanting. At the other end of the series, we may have a problem for consideration, the basis for which is found in experiences common to all children. But even though this be the case, there will still be need for the recall of the experience and for making prominent some factor heretofore unnoticed before the children will be ready to reason. We may suppose that all children have had experience with streets or roads, but we shall want to recall many of these experiences in order to make significant the problem of transportation which we wish to consider in the class in home geography.

The step of preparation has only partially accomplished its purpose when the experience necessary to the realization of the problem has been recalled or provided. Still greater skill is required in making the child conscious of the problem. Indeed, it may well be argued that in the curriculum as it is at present organized, very many of the problems that we ask children to solve are problems for them only because we, as teachers, require that that certain piece of work be done. Often the child’s problem consists mainly in avoiding, as far as possible, the work which we require, which has little or no significance for him. Children would do much more thinking if we were only more careful to give them childish problems to solve. Too frequently the organization of knowledge which we impose is influenced exclusively by our adult logical conceptions. Not that children should be illogical, but rather that child logic and the child’s ability to reason depend upon his ability to appreciate problems, upon his experience, and upon his ability to interpret that experience. When we impose our adult point of view upon him, when we ask him to take our problem and with the data that we supply ask him to work out our solution, whatever else may be said of the exercise, it may not be called an exercise in reasoning by children.

If we do respect the child’s experience and point of view, the task still remains of making all of the group of children we teach conscious of the aim as their problem. There is no greater test of teaching skill than this. Can the teacher, after having brought to mind the experiences which are relevant to the work she wishes the children to do, make them conscious of a lack in this experience; can she awaken the need for further consideration of past experience and a desire to reconstruct and to amplify it? In proportion as she is able to accomplish this result, we may be sure that children are reasoning upon problems which are vital to them, and that the motive has been provided which will secure the maximum of controlled intellectual activity on their part. The best single test of the accomplishment of this ideal is to require that the statement of aim be made by the children themselves as a result of the guidance we have given. This conception of the meaning and significance of the aim suggests the solution of the difficulty which some people find in harmonizing the idea of instruction with the doctrine of self-activity.

Instruction, when properly conducted, does not impose the ideas, the problems, or the conclusions of adults upon children. Rather we are concerned in instruction with the child’s experience, his tendency to react, his need of adjustment; and our function as teachers is to guide him, to stimulate him to his own best efforts, to insure the maximum of self-activity while we guide this activity toward the accomplishment of ends which are desirable. The difficulty is, of course, that the problem for solution at any given time may not be equally vital to every member of the group. Here is where the element of control enters somewhat in opposition to the self-activity of the individual. But this condition of affairs is necessarily true both in school and out of it, for society sets up for us certain norms or standards of experience which must be realized by all, and we must for the sake of economy handle children in groups. If the problem is not beyond the child’s comprehension, if it deals with situations which are significant to him, if the solution derived has some bearing on his future action, if he has carefully scrutinized his experience in the light of the problem stated and has brought to bear those elements which are significant for its solution, we may be confident that the activity resulting is closely akin to that which is found in the controlled thinking of men the world over.

In order that it may be more easy for children to focus their attention upon the problem in hand, there is considerable advantage in a clear, concise, concrete, and preferably a brief statement of the aim.[7] A problem is half solved when one can state it clearly. So long as the problem is not sufficiently well defined to admit of accurate statement on the part of pupils, there is danger that there may be much wandering in its consideration. One of the great lessons to be taught in work of this sort is the need of examining the ideas as they suggest themselves to see whether or not they are relevant.

The argument as it has been stated above points to the statement of aim as the culmination of the step of preparation. This does not mean that a considerable period must always elapse in the conduct of an exercise of this type before the aim can be stated. There are occasions, and when the teaching has been good they should be frequent, when the lesson should begin with the statement of the problem discovered in a previous lesson and made clear in the assignment of work. In other cases the same aim may hold for several days; i.e. until the problem is solved. In general, as we advance through the grades, the ends for which children work should become relatively more remote, and the achievement of these ends should require a longer period of work. There is an advantage in setting up subsidiary aims which will make steps of progress in the realization of the larger purpose.

Another distinction that it is well to keep in mind concerns the development of intellectual interests on the part of children. The characteristic aim for a first-grade child may make its appeal chiefly to his desire for satisfaction, which has little intellectual significance; but education fails if it does not make for an increase of interest in intellectual activity. For example, a first-grade boy may be led to count because he wants to be able to tell how many marbles he has, or how to measure the materials he uses in constructive work; while the mathematician may work night and day upon a problem of mathematics because of a purely speculative interest in the result. We may not hope to produce the great mathematician in the elementary school, but we may hope after a certain point has been reached in our study of arithmetic that a boy will recognize the necessity for drill in addition simply because he realizes that in the ordinary affairs of life this knowledge is required.

Presentation: The full realization of the problem to be solved involves a consideration of data already at hand in experience. When we have the problem clearly in mind, we examine this experience more carefully to see what bearing it may have upon the solution, or we gather further data, observe more critically or more extensively, or experiment in such a manner as to involve the solution of our problem. What is the function of the teacher during this part of the process? There is no single answer to this question. Sometimes the work of the teacher will consist almost wholly in helping children to recall their past experience and to apply it to the question at hand. At another time, when experience is lacking, the teacher must direct children to the sources of data, guide them in their observations or experiments, or even give them outright all of the data that she can bring to bear on the situation. It will not always be economical to wait for children to gather the data for themselves, just as it is not always feasible to require them to reach conclusions for themselves. There are times when the best teaching consists in demonstration, and occasions arise when the only feasible course for the teacher is to literally flood the children with data from which they may draw their conclusions.

Again the problem of gathering data becomes the problem of memory. We want children to think, and we should insist that they gather facts with reference to the solution of some problem; but the solution may not always be immediate. We may suspend judgment while we gather further facts and organize them. The facts gathered for one purpose, when rearranged with reference to a new problem, take on a new meaning. If this be true, we may not in our zeal for clear thinking neglect the tools with which we work. There may be some people who have a great many facts and who reason little, but no one can reason without data. Our ability to think logically upon any topic is conditioned by our ability to see facts in new relations, to reorganize our data with reference to new problems; but facts we must have, and a memory stored with facts is one of the greatest aids to thinking.

One of the means mentioned above for the gathering of data was observation. It is necessary that we appreciate the fact that observation involves something more than having the thing present to the senses. Our observations are significant for our thinking when we have clearly in view the problem which the observations are to help solve. Teachers sometimes make the mistake of supposing that when children have objects with which to work they have a problem. It is not unusual to hear teachers speak of objective work as concrete work. Now the concreteness of a situation is not at all dependent upon the presence of objects. Logically a situation may be concrete, and yet present no objects to the senses. On the other hand, objects may be present, children may be directed to use them, and yet in the absence of any real problem the work done may be of the most abstract sort. Objects help to make a situation concrete when the problem under consideration demands their presence, or when they help to make clear the situation under consideration. For example, children may have peas or beans in solving problems in addition; they serve to present objectively the reality which is symbolized by the teacher or pupils in their written work, but this does not make the work in addition concrete. The concreteness of these exercises will depend upon the need which children feel of the ability to find the sum of two or more numbers. The beans will be significant, beyond their use as objects, to illustrate the one-to-one correspondence between symbolic representation and reality, only if the problem of summation which at that time engages their attention concerns the sum of certain numbers of beans. Indeed, it may be claimed that the use of one set of objects continuously to illustrate a process in arithmetic hinders rather than helps the child in his ability to reason in this situation, since he may come to consider this chance relationship of beans and addition as essential. He may think that he ought always to add when he is given beans.

A good illustration of the necessity for a well defined problem for guidance when observations are to be made is found in the futility of much work that is done, or rather left undone, when children are taken on excursions. The directions which follow for the conduct of excursions are those which should be followed whenever work in observation is required, those which have reference to the handling of a large group of children in the field being added.

1. The teacher must have clearly defined in her own mind the purpose of the observation. If the teacher has not definitely formulated the problem, the observation of the children will surely be purposeless.

2. It is not enough that the teacher know just what data she expects the children to gather toward the solution of a particular problem; she must know exactly what data are available under the conditions governing the observation.

3. The preliminary work must have prepared children for their observations by giving them very definite problems to solve. Often it will be advantageous to have these problems written in notebooks.

4. Children not only need to want to see, but also need to be directed while they are observing. Nothing is easier than to look and not see that which is essential.

5. It is always advisable to test the success of the observations while they are being made. There is nothing more difficult than to correct a misconception growing out of careless or inadequate observations.

6. It is well to remember that not merely number of observations counts in the solution of a problem. It is rather observations under varying conditions which give weight to our conclusions. One intensive observation may be worth a thousand careless ones.

7. When children are taken on excursions, great care must be exercised to keep them under proper guidance and control. The organization of children into smaller groups with leaders who are made responsible for their proper observance of directions will help. These leaders should have been over the ground with the teacher before the excursion. The assistance of parents, teachers, or of older pupils will at times be necessary.

8. There should be definite work periods during the excursion, just as in the schoolroom or laboratory.

9. A whistle, as a signal for assembling at one point, will help in out-of-door work, provided it is clearly understood that this signal must be obeyed immediately, and under all circumstances.

Comparison and abstraction: With the problem clearly defined and the data provided, the next step consists of comparison and the resulting abstraction of the element present in all of the cases which makes for the solution of the problem. In the ordinary course of our thinking the sequence is as follows: We find ourselves in a situation which presents a problem which demands an adjustment; we make a guess or formulate an hypothesis which furnishes the basis for our work in attempting to solve the problem; we gather data in the light of the hypothesis assumed, which, through comparison and abstraction, leads us to believe our hypothesis correct or false; if the hypothesis seems justified by the data gathered, it is further tested or verified by an appeal to experience; i.e. we endeavor to see whether our conclusion holds in all cases; if this test proves satisfactory, we generalize or define; and lastly this generalization or definition is used as a point of reference or truth to guide in later thinking or activity.

There is danger that we may overlook the very great importance of inference in this process. We cannot say just when this step in the process will be possible, but it is possibly the most significant of all. A situation presents a problem. Our success in solving the problem depends upon our ability to infer from the facts at our command. Often many inferences will be necessary before we succeed in finding the one that will stand the test. Again with the problem in mind we may be conscious of a great lack of data and may postpone our inference while we collect the needed information. There is one fallacy that must be carefully guarded against in dealing with children, as also with adults; namely, the tendency once the inference has been made to admit only such data as are found to support this particular hypothesis.

It is this ability to infer, to formulate a workable hypothesis, which distinguishes the genius from the man of mediocre ability. It is the ability to see facts in new relations, the giving of new meaning to facts which may be the common possession of all, that characterizes the great thinker. Other people knew many of the facts; but it took the mind of a Newton to discover the relationship existing among these data which he formulated in the law that all bodies attract each other directly in proportion to their weight and inversely in proportion to the square of the distance separating them. As we teach children we should encourage the intelligent guess. We would not, of course, encourage mere random guessing, which may be engaged in by children to have something to say or to blind the teacher. A child who offers a guess or hypothesis should be asked to give his ground for the inference, should show that his guess has grown out of his consideration of the data in hand. It is fallacious to suppose that this kind of thinking is beyond the power of children. They have been forming their inferences and testing them in action from the time that they began to act independently.

There is one element in the consideration of the step of comparison which cannot be too much emphasized, and that is that it is not the comparison of things or situations which present striking likenesses which gives rise to the highest type of thinking. To look at a dozen horses and then to conclude that all horses have four legs is merely a matter of classification; to observe that the sun, chemical action, electricity, and friction produce heat, and to arrive at the generalization from these cases, apparently so unlike, that heat is a mode of motion is the work of a genius. In general, it is safe to say that we would greatly strengthen our teaching if we were only more careful to see to it that our basis for generalization is found in situations presenting as many variations as possible. For example, if we want to teach a principle in arithmetic, the way to fix it and to make it available for further use by our pupils is not to get a number of problems all of which are alike in form and statement; but rather we should seek as great a variety as is possible in the language used or symbols employed that is compatible with the application of the principle to be taught. In an interesting article on reasoning in primary arithmetic, Professor Suzzallo has pointed out the fact that children’s difficulty in reasoning is often one of language.[8] The trouble has been that teachers have always used a set form, or a very few forms of expression, when they described situations which involved any one of the arithmetical processes. Later when the child is called upon to solve a problem involving this process he does not know which process to apply because he is unfamiliar with the form of expression used. To succeed in teaching children when to add involves the presentation of the situations which call for addition with as great a variation as is possible, i.e. by using not one form, but all of the words or phrases which may be used to indicate summation. In like manner in other fields the examples for comparison will be valuable in proportion as they present variety rather than uniformity in those elements which are not essential. Equally good illustration can be had from any other field. If we want pupils to get any adequate conception of the function of adjectives, we should use examples which involve a variety of adjectives in different parts of sentences. In geography the concept “river” will be clear only when the different types of rivers have been considered and the non-essential elements disregarded.

Generalization: When we feel that we have solved the problem, we are ready to state our generalization. There is considerable advantage in making such a statement. One can never be quite sure that he has solved his problem until he finds himself able to state clearly the results of his thinking. To attempt to define or to generalize is often to realize the inadequacy of our thought on the problem. Children should be encouraged to give their own definition or generalization before referring to that which is provided by the teacher or the book. Indeed, the significance of a generalization for further thinking or later action depends not simply upon one’s ability to repeat words, but rather upon adequate realization of the significance of the conclusion reached. The best test of such comprehension is found in the ability of the pupil to state the generalization for himself.

There is very great danger, if definitions or generalizations are given ready-made to children, that they will learn to juggle with words. The parrot-like repetition of rules of syntax, or principles of arithmetic, never indicates real grasp of these subjects. Children think most when the requirement for thinking is greatest, and none are readier than they to take advantage of laxness on the part of the teacher in this respect. It is not only when the formal statement of principles or definitions is called for that the teacher needs to be on her guard. At any stage of the process, if the teacher will only take their words and read meaning into them, some children will be found ready to substitute words for thought. It is really a mistake to tell a child that you know what he means even though he did not say it. Language is the instrument which he employs in thinking, and, if his statement lacked clearness or definiteness, the chances are very great that his thinking has failed in these same particulars. Instead of encouraging children in loose thinking by accepting any statement offered, it would be much better to raise the question of the real significance of the statement, to inquire just what was meant by the words used. Such procedure will help to make children more careful in expressing themselves, and will inevitably tend to clearer thinking.

Application: Whatever conclusions we have reached, whatever truths we have satisfactorily established, influence us in our later thought and action. But even though this is true, there is a decided advantage in providing for a definite application of the results of the thinking which children have done as soon as possible and in as many different ways as is feasible. In the first place, such application makes clearer the truth itself, and helps to fix it in mind. Again, the conclusion arrived at to-day is chiefly significant as a basis for our thinking of to-morrow, and it is as we apply our conclusions that new problems arise to stimulate us to further thought. Then, too, the satisfaction which comes when one feels his power over situations as a result of thinking is the very best possible stimulus to further intellectual activity. Finally, we need to show children the application of that which they have learned to the life which they live outside of the school. We are not apt to err on the side of too frequent or too varied application of the generalizations we have led children to make. Rather we shall have to study diligently to provide enough applications to fix for the child the habit of verification by an appeal to experience.

A few words by way of caution concerning the inductive lesson may not be out of place.

First: Not all school work can be undertaken on this general plan. There are times when the end to be accomplished is distinctly not the discovery of some new truth, but rather the fixing of some habit. There are exercises which are distinctively deductive, some which aim to produce habits, and others which seek to secure appreciation. But more of this is in the succeeding chapters.

Second: Even when we seek to establish truth, we cannot always develop it by an appeal to the experience of children nor to observations which they can make. We shall have, on some occasions, to supply the data, and in still other cases it will be most economical to demonstrate the truth of the position which we desire to have them take. There are occasions when the solution of the problem is not possible for children. In this last instance we shall have to provide the authoritative statement. Indeed, it may be argued that one of the lessons which we all need to learn is respect for the expert. We cannot settle all of the problems which arise, but we may choose from among those who profess to have found a solution. Our education ought to help us to avoid the quack and the charlatan. The habit of logical thinking on the part of children, and expert knowledge in some field, however small, is the only protection which the school can give against the pretensions of those who represent themselves as the dispensers of truth.[9]

Third: There is a grave danger that we may help children too much. Some teachers interpret the inductive development lesson to mean that each step in the thinking required must be carefully prepared for and quickly passed. They consider that they have taught the best lesson when there has been no hitch in the progress from the statement of aim to the wording of the generalization. The suggestive question which makes thinking on the part of children unnecessary is a favorite measure employed. If we stop to consider what thinking means, we cannot fail to see the fallacy of such work. We all do our best thinking, not when the problem to be solved is explained by some one else and all of the difficulties removed, but rather when we find the problem most difficult of solution.

If children are at work on problems which are vital to them, we may expect them to continue to work even though they make mistakes. Indeed, the best recitation may be the one that leaves the children not with a solution skillfully supplied for them by the teacher, but rather with a keen realization of the problem, and with a somewhat clearer idea of the direction in which the solution may be sought. It is the teacher’s work to help the child to see the problem, and, seeing the problem herself from the child’s point of view, to stimulate the child to his best effort. The teacher must know not only the pupil’s attitude of mind toward the problem and how his mind is most likely to react, but also the mental activity required to master properly the issue that has been raised. On the one hand, the teacher’s equipment consists of a knowledge of the minds of the children whom she teaches, and on the other a knowledge of the subject to be taught, not simply as a body of knowledge more or less classified or organized, but as a mode of mental growth.[10] What the teacher needs is a clear realization of the difficulties which the pupils must meet, and the way in which childish minds may best overcome these obstacles. When such sympathy exists between teacher and pupil, we may expect that pupils will constantly grow stronger in their ability to think logically, instead of becoming more and more dependent upon the teacher. And this is our great work as teachers, to render our services unnecessary.

Fourth: No teacher should attempt to outline her work on the basis of the steps indicated in the discussion of the inductive method without a clear realization of the fact that these steps cannot be sharply differentiated, that they are not mutually exclusive. To define a problem adequately may mean that we have passed through the whole process. At any step in the process after the problem is defined, and some hypothesis formed, we may wish to verify our guess by an appeal to known facts, and often we shall find it necessary to abandon the hypothesis already formed and provide another as a basis for further thinking. It is true that the natural movement of the mind is roughly indicated by the steps named; but it must be remembered that no mind can possibly arrive at the solution of a real problem by adhering to a fixed order of procedure. We do not by our teaching create the power of logical thought; we rather guide a mind that naturally operates logically. We can never teach children to reason, but we can provide the occasion for logical thinking, and can guard against the common fallacies. Our success will depend upon a clear realization of the possibilities of the child mind and of the subjects we teach as part of their growth and development.

Teaching by Types: Teaching by means of types is sometimes discussed as a separate method, while in reality it is simply one form of the inductive process. As was indicated in our discussion of observation above, there are times when the consideration of a single situation or object in detail may be worth more than a thousand careless observations. It is especially true that a thoroughly adequate knowledge of one object or case of a class prepares in the best possible way for future observations of members of the same class. Familiarity with the life history of one animal or plant will help us greatly to understand other animals and plants, because that which is most essential in all has been carefully observed in the case considered. Now let us suppose that several plants and animals have been studied. If the cases which are considered are truly typical, it may be possible for the student to appreciate not simply the individuals belonging to the classes studied, but also something of the interrelation of the several classes. This illustration, given because it represents in a general way something of the method followed in the study of science, represents a very common method of procedure in the ordinary affairs of life. None of us can hope to support our conclusions by a careful scrutiny of all possible cases. We take something on authority; namely, that the individual case considered is representative of a large group, then after we have investigated the one case we apply our conclusions to the whole group. Of course there is one great danger. We may be overhasty in our generalizations. No fallacy is more common than the emphasis placed upon non-essentials by those whose observations have been limited. The stories of the traveler who generalizes, after seeing one red-headed child or after eating at one hotel, concerning the children and hotels of the country visited, are too common to need repetition here. Where observations are necessarily limited, the important consideration is to get cases that seem as different as possible in order that that which is essential may be differentiated from the non-essential or accidental.

Teaching by types in our ordinary school work has been applied most frequently to the subject of geography. Applying the principle stated above, we shall be careful in teaching rivers, mountains, cities, commerce, or any other geographical notion to see to it that the individual cases considered are as widely different as possible. To teach New York City, Philadelphia, and Chicago only would give children a very erroneous idea of the concept “city.” They are all exceptionally large, all American, all modern. There are cities smaller, with peculiarities due to age, to location, and to the ideas and resources of the people building them. A better selection would be New York City, London, Tokyo, Venice, Cairo, and Munich. Objection could still very well be offered that this list is too short to include all classes. There can be no doubt that to have taught any city carefully will aid greatly in understanding the notion “city” and in appreciating other cities, but manifestly any final generalization concerning cities must wait until our knowledge of geography has been widely extended. The same conclusion would be reached were any other notion of geography, or any other study, subjected to the same test. There is, however, no harm in forming tentative judgments. Indeed, we must all do this every day of our lives. The main issue is to see to it that there is no mistake as to the tentative character of the conclusions reached, that the open-minded attitude be preserved.

For Collateral Reading

C. A. and F. M. McMurry, The Method of the Recitation, Chapters VI to IX inclusive.

John Dewey, How We Think, Chapters XII to XV inclusive.

Exercises.

1. What is the purpose of the step of preparation in the inductive lesson? When would you begin an inductive lesson with a statement of aim or problem? What value is there in having children state the aim of a lesson? When during the lesson should the aim be referred to?

2. How would you hope to have country children get a clear idea of a city? Could you develop this idea with sufficient definiteness by asking questions?

3. What preparation would you think necessary for a class that were taking their first trip to a dairy?

4. What was wrong in the class where, after a trip to the country, a small child said, “A cow is a small animal with four legs that likes to live in the mud and grunt”?

5. Would you allow a boy to perform an experiment in nature study that you knew would result unsatisfactorily?