Try to imagine a material world without force—no cohesion, no
resistance, no gravitation, no sound, no light, no sign from the
outward world, no active mind to receive a sign. Now try to imagine
knowledge without power, a mind that is but a photographic sheet—no
active perception, no imagination, no reflection upon ideas, no
impulses ending in action. On the other hand, mental power without
knowledge is inconceivable. One without knowledge is in the condition
of the newly born infant.
As difficult to understand as the relation between matter and force,
between spirit and body, between thought and its sign, is the relation
between knowledge and power. In a way we may attempt to separate and
distinguish between them, by a process of emphasizing the one or the
other. Knowledge, in the sense of information, means an acquaintance
with nature in its infinite variety of kind, form, and color, and
with man in history and literature; mental power is the ability to
gain knowledge, and the motive to use it for growth and for valuable
ends. Mere knowledge serenely contemplates nature and history as a
panorama, without serious reflection or effort. Power is able to
reflect upon knowledge, and to find motives for progress and useful
action. Knowledge is the product of the information method; power, of
the method of self-activity.
As we cannot divorce matter and force, so it appears we cannot clearly
separate knowledge and mental power; the distinction is artificial and
almost fanciful. The one cannot exist without the other; they are the
opposite sides of the shield. Through knowledge comes power. Knowledge
is the material for reflection and action. Knowledge, as it were,
creates the mind, and is both the source of power and the occasion for
its use.
* * * * *
We recall the familiar caricature of the Chinese lack of original
power. A merchant negotiated with a Chinaman for the manufacture of a
few thousand plates of a certain pattern, and furnished a sample that
by chance was cracked. The plates arrived in due season, admirably
imitating the original—and every one was cracked. No need in this
instance to employ the mandate given by a choleric superintendent to
an employee, who on one occasion thought for himself—“I have told you
repeatedly you have no business to think!” The Chinese character may be
expressed by a parody on a familiar stanza:
For they are the same their fathers have been;
They see the same sights their fathers have seen,
They drink the same stream and view the same sun,
And run the same course their fathers have run.
A timorous cow gazing wistfully over the garden gate at the forbidden
succulent vegetables, and nervously rubbing her nose by accident
against the latch, may open the gate and gain an entrance, and
afterward repeat the process. A new and peculiar fastening will prevent
any further depredations. An ingenious boy will find the means to
undo any kind of unique fastening to the gate that bars him from the
watermelon patch. Charles Lamb humorously describes how the Chinese
learned to eat roast pig. A house burned and the family pig perished
in the flames; a disconsolate group of people stood around viewing the
ruins, when by accident one touched the pig and, burning his finger,
thrust it in his mouth to cool it; the taste was good, and he repeated
the process. Soon there were marvellously frequent conflagrations—all
the neighbors burned their houses to roast their pigs, that being the
only method they had learned.
From these somewhat trivial illustrations, we may readily draw a few
inferences: First, ingenuity of mind for novel conditions distinguishes
man from the brutes; second, the Chinese method of education emphasizes
too much the information side—it is not good; third, the human mind
is ingenious when it is rightly educated and has a strong motive;
fourth, ingenuity is the power that should grow from education. In this
idea—ingenuity of mind—is the very essence of what we mean when we
emphasize the power side of the soul.
The problem of education is to make men think. Tradition, authority,
formalism have not the place in education which they formerly occupied.
May it not be that we have so analyzed and formulated the work of
the schools that formalism and method have somewhat taken the place
of genuine work, full of the life and spirit that make power? We may
discover that the criticisms from certain high sources have an element
of truth in them. A certain routine may easily become a sacred code, a
law of the tables, and any variation therefrom an impiety.
A person possesses power when his conception ploughs through the
unfurrowed tissue of his brain to seek its proper affinity, and unites
with it to form a correct judgment. A person who is merely instructed
does not construct new lines of thought to bring ideas into novel
relations; he does not originate or progress. An original thinker
masses all congruous ideas around a dimly conceived notion and there
is a new birth of an idea, a genuine child of the brain. His ingenuity
will open a gate or construct a philosophical system.
Every student remembers well the stages in his education when there
was a new awakening by methods that invited thought, when a power
was gained to conceive and do something not stated in the books or
imparted by the teacher. In the schools, even of to-day, teachers are
not always found who can impart elementary science in the spirit of
science, who can successfully invite speculation as to causes, who can
teach accurate perception, who can interpret events in history, train
pupils in the use of reference books, or invite original thought in
mathematics. There is no high school which does not yearly receive
pupils not trained in original power, no college which does not
annually winnow out freshmen, because they have not gained the power to
grapple with virile methods. The defect is sometimes innate, but it is
oftener due to false methods of instruction. Our great problem is to
make scholars who are not hopeless and helpless in the presence of what
they have not learned.
The plant must have good soil, water and air and sun, care and pruning,
in order to grow, but it grows of itself, gains strength by proper
nourishment. The aggregation of material about the plant does not
constitute its growth. The plant must assimilate; the juices of life
must flow through it.
The teacher does his best work when he makes all conditions favorable
for the self-activity of the pupil. Such conditions create a lively
interest in the objects and forces of nature, invite examination of
facts and discovery of relations, arouse the imagination to conceive
results, awaken query and reflection, stimulate the emotional life
toward worthy and energetic action, and make the pupil ever progressive.
* * * * *
An article in one of our magazines strongly emphasizes the methods
that make power. It considers the kind of training that finally makes
accurate thinkers, that makes original, progressive men, men of power,
and safe and wise citizens. The author shows that clear observation,
accurate recording of facts, just inference, and strong, choice
expression are most important ends to be attained by the work of the
schools, and that these ends become the means for correcting all sorts
of unjust, illogical conclusions as to politics and morals.
There is much profound thought in the view maintained. Unjust
inferences, fallacies, are nearly the sum of the world’s social and
political evils. False ideas are held as true concerning all sorts of
current problems—notions that take possession of men’s minds without
logical reflection. The fallacy of confounding sequence with cause is
almost universal. All kinds of subjective and objective duties suffer
from illogical minds.
To correct many errors and evils, to make thinking, useful men, we must
emphasize the processes recommended: (1) observation, (2) faithful
recording, (3) just inference, (4) satisfactory expression.
The author shows wherein the work of the grades fails to give the
desired results. He holds that arithmetic, so emphasized, contributes
nothing because it employs necessary reasoning, and does not give
practice in inference from observation and experience, a process which
develops scientific judgment. Inductive reasoning alone can give
scientific power. Reading, writing, spelling, geography as usually
taught, contribute but little; grammar does not add much.
For invention, for correct estimates of the problems of society,
government, and morals, the original power of inference from observed
facts is necessary. It is asked: Do our schools give this power to a
satisfactory and attainable degree? It is claimed in the article that
the high schools and colleges fail more or less, because so much time
is given to memory work and formulated results. In the high schools
the work to be most emphasized is not chosen with discrimination. The
courses include too many studies, not well done. There should be fewer
studies so pursued as to give power.
May it not be well to make the inquiry in all grades as to what
proportion of the work contributes toward the final result of accurate
reflection upon the world of facts. Let us again repeat the author’s
list in logical order: (1) observation, (2) recording, as in noting
experiments, (3) inference, (4) expression.
President Eliot’s paper here referred to admirably emphasizes the
methods that make power. Perhaps the author gives too little importance
to knowledge as the basis of power, and fails to emphasize the
æsthetic power and the value of ideals. It is true that poetry implies
accurate observation, fine discrimination, discovery of just relations,
and true insight, but it is equally true that science study does not
make poets.
* * * * *
The times have changed. The old idea of the scholar was of one who,
in the serene contemplation of truth, beauty, and goodness, found a
never-failing source of delight for himself, and felt little obligation
to the world that sustained him, or the social environment that
nurtured and humanized him. The devotion to truth for its own sake,
the love of nature in repose, the admiration of great deeds, fine
sentiments and noble thoughts, were for him sufficient, as if he were
isolated in a world of his own. We do not depreciate such interest, for
life is worth nothing without it. But there is a demand for action, a
call to externalize the power of one’s being. Each man is a part of the
all, from eternity destined to be a factor in the progress of all. The
thoughts and impulses that evaporate and accomplish nothing are not of
much more value to the individual than to his neighbor. “Do something”
is the command alike of religion and of the nature of our physical
being. Every sentiment and idea that leads to action forms a habit in
the mysterious inner chambers of our nervous system for action, and we
gain in power, grow in mental stature, day by day.
* * * * *
Power comes through knowledge. There may be too great a tendency to
emphasize power to the loss of that knowledge necessary to marshal in
one field of view the necessary facts. Imagine a judge trying to reach
a decision without the points in evidence before his mind; a statesman
that would interpret current events without a knowledge of history;
an investigator in science who had not before him the results of the
investigations of others.
Ideally, knowledge should be varied and comprehensive; it should cover,
at least in an elementary way, the entire field of nature and of man.
Then only is the student best prepared for his life work, if he would
make the most of it. A man lost in a forest directs not his steps
wisely; when thoroughly acquainted with his surroundings, he moves
forward with confidence. One who has trained all the muscles of his
body delivers a blow with vigor. One who has trained all the powers of
his mind summons to his aid the energy of all, when he acts in a given
direction. His knowledge is the light thrown on his endeavor.
This view is opposed to the extreme doctrine that knowledge is of
little value. Knowledge is necessary to power; the abuse lies in not
making it the basis of power.
This theory also militates strongly against the position that a student
should specialize at too early a period, before he has traversed in an
elementary way the circle of studies and gained a harmonized general
development.
The discussion of a growing fallacy naturally appears in this place,
that it makes no difference what knowledge is used provided it gives
power. It does make a difference whether one gains power in deciphering
an ancient inscription in hieroglyphics, or gains it by studying a
language which contains the generic concepts of our native tongue,
or in pursuing a scientific study which acquaints him with the laws
of nature’s forces. In the one case, while the power is great, the
knowledge is small; in the other, an essential view of the thought of
mankind or of the nature of the world in which we live is gained, and
the knowledge is broadly useful for various exercise of power.
Another fallacy is the doctrine that actual execution in practical ways
alone gives power. It may give ready specific power of a limited kind,
but it may leave the man childlike and helpless in the presence of
anything but his specialty.
Here we find an argument for higher education, for an accumulation of
knowledge and power that comes through prolonged labor in the field of
learning, under wise guidance and through self-effort. Many a youth,
through limited capacity, limited time and means, must begin special
education before he has laid a broad foundation, but this is not the
ideal method. The true teacher will always hold the highest ideals
before the pupils, will guide them in the path of general education,
until that education becomes what is called liberal. The broad-minded
men who conduct schools for special education are strong advocates of
the highest degree of general training as a foundation.
Four years of college life, with the methods of to-day, more than
quadruple the capital of the graduate of the secondary school. They
broaden the field of knowledge, and enlarge the capacity for doing.
The world is full of demands for men of knowledge and power. There is
to-day a lack of men sufficiently equipped in knowledge, power, and
character to take the direction, for instance, of important college
departments. Men of power and skill are in demand everywhere, and not
enough can be found for responsible positions. One half the fault is
insufficient education.
* * * * *
There is another phase of power that must not be neglected, the power
to enjoy, to be rich in emotional life. Knowledge, properly pursued,
is a source of rich and refined intellectual emotions. There is joy in
discovery, joy in the freedom and grasp of thought.
Æsthetic power, based upon fine discrimination, finds a perpetual
joy in sky and sea, and mountain and forest, in music and poetry, in
sentiment and song. Our Teutonic ancestors were better seers than we.
The morning sun and the midnight darkness were perpetually to them a
new birth. The leaves whispered to them divine messages; the storms
and the seasons, the fruitful earth, were full of wonder and sacred
mysteries. They were poets. This matter-of-fact age will yet return
to the primitive regard for nature, a regard enlightened and refined
by science. Men will yet find in the most commonplace fact of nature
mystery, poetry, ground for reverence, and faith in a God.
The power of enjoyment alone does not give a fruitful life. It is
in the moment of action that we gain the habit that makes power for
action. As a philosopher recently expressed it: Do not allow your finer
emotions to evaporate without finding expression in some useful act,
if it is nothing but speaking kindly to your grandmother, or giving up
your seat in a horse car.
There has been a weak and harmful philosophy in vogue for years that
would place the natural and the useful in the line of the agreeable.
Even extreme evolution fails signally to show that the agreeable is
always teleological, that is, always directed toward useful ends. The
latest teaching of physiological psychology takes us back to the stern
philosophy of the self-denying Puritan, and shows that we must conquer
our habitual inclinations, and encounter some disagreeable duty every
day to prepare for the emergencies that demand men of stern stuff.
George Eliot proclaims the same thought with philosophical insight,
that we are not to wait for great opportunities for glory, but by
daily, drudging performance of little duties are to get ready for the
arrival of the great opportunities. We must prepare for our eagle
flights by many feeble attempts of our untried pinions.
If one but work, no matter in what line of higher scholastic pursuit,
he will in a few years waken to a consciousness of power that makes
him one of the leaders. There is every encouragement to the student to
persevere, in the certain assurance that sooner or later he will reach
attainments beyond his present clear conception.
Our inheritance is a glorious one. The character of the Anglo-Saxons is
seen throughout their history. Amid the clash of weapons they fought
with a fierce energy and a strange delight. They rode the mighty
billows and sang heroic songs with the wild joy of the sea fowl. Later
we find them contending earnestly for their beliefs. Then they grew
into the Puritan sternness of character, abounding in the sense of
duty. Their character has made them the leaders and conquerors of the
world. It finds expression in the progress and influence of America.
This energy has gradually become more and more refined and humanized,
and, in its highest and best form, it is the heritage of every young
man; and by the pride of ancestry, by the character inherited, by
the opportunity of his age, he is called upon to wield strongly the
weapon of Thor and hammer out his destiny with strong heart and earnest
purpose.