APPERCEPTION.
We have now to deal with a principle of pedagogy upon which all the
leading ideas thus far discussed largely depend for their realization.
Interest, concentration, and induction set up requirements relative to
the matter, spirit and method of school studies. Apperception is a
practical principle, obedience to which will contribute daily and
hourly to making real in school exercises the ideas of interest,
concentration and induction.
We observe in passing that the important principles already discussed
stand in close mutual relation and dependence. Interest aids
concentration by bringing all kinds of knowledge into close touch with
the feelings. Interest puts incentives into every kind of information
so as to arouse the will, which, in turn, unifies and controls the
mental actions. But concentration has a reflex influence upon
interest, because unity and conscious mastery give added pleasure to
knowledge. The culture epochs are expected to contribute powerfully to
both concentration and interest; to the former by supplying a series of
rallying-points for educative effort, to the latter by furnishing
matter suited to interest children. Induction is a natural method of
acquiring and unifying knowledge in an interesting way. Apperception,
in turn, is a principle of mental action which puts life and interest
into inductive and concentrating processes. Every hour of school labor
illustrates the value of apperception and teachers should find in it a
constant antidote to faulty methods.
Apperception may be roughly defined at first as the process of
_acquiring new ideas by the aid of old ideas_ already in the mind. It
makes the acquisition of new knowledge easier and quicker. Not that
there is any easy road to learning, but there is a natural process
which greatly accelerates the progress of acquisition, just as it is
better to follow a highway over a rough country than to betake one's
self to the stumps and brush. For example, if one is familiar with
peaches, apricots will be quickly understood as a kindred kind of
fruit, even though a little strange. A person who is familiar with
electrical machinery will easily interpret the meaning and purpose of
every part of a new electrical plant. One may _perceive_ a new object
without understanding it, but to _apperceive_ it is to interpret its
meaning by the aid of similar familiar notions.
If one examines a _typewriter_ for the first time, it will take some
pains and effort to understand its construction and use; but after
examining a Remington, another kind will be more easily understood,
because the principle of the first interprets that of the second.
Suppose the _Steppes of Russia_ are mentioned for the first time to a
class. The word has little or no meaning or perhaps suggests
erroneously a succession of stairs. But we remark that the steppes are
like the prairies and plains to the west of the Mississippi river,
covered with grass and fed on by herds. By awakening a familiar notion
already in the mind and bringing it distinctly to the front, the new
thing is easily understood. Again, a boy goes to town and sees a
_banana_ for the first time, and asks, "What is that? I never saw
anything like that." He thinks he has no class of things to which it
belongs, no place to put it. His father answers that it is to eat like
an orange or a pear, and its significance is at once plain by the
reference to something familiar.
Again, two men, the one a _machinist_ and the other an observer
unskilled in machines, visit the machinery hall of an exposition. The
machinist observes a new invention and finds in it a new application of
an old principle. As he passes along from one machine to another he is
much interested in noting new devices and novel appliances and at the
end of an hour he leaves the hall with a mind enriched. The other
observer sees the same machines and their parts, but does not detect
the principle of their construction. His previous knowledge of
machines is not sufficient to give him the clue to their explanation.
After an hour of uninterested observation he leaves the hall with a
confused notion of shafts, wheels, cogs, bands, etc., but with no
greater insight into the principles of machinery. Why has one man
learned so much and the other nothing? Because the machinist's
previous experience served as an interpreter and explained these new
contrivances, while the other had no sufficient previous knowledge and
so acquired nothing new. "To him that hath shall be given."
In the act of apperception the old ideas dwelling in the mind are not
to be regarded as dead treasures stored away and only occasionally
drawn out and used by a purposed effort of the memory, but they are
_living forces_ which have the active power of seizing and
appropriating new ideas. Lazarus says they stand "like well-armed men
in the inner stronghold of the mind ready to sally forth and overcome
or make serviceable whatever shows itself at the portals of sense." It
is then through the active aid of familiar ideas that new things find
an introduction to soul life. If old friends go out to meet the
strangers and welcome them, there will be an easy entrance and a quick
adoption into the new home.
But frequently these old friends who stand in the background of our
thoughts must be _awakened_ and called to the front. They must stand
as it were on tiptoe ready to welcome the stranger. For if they lie
asleep in the penetralia of the home the new comers may approach and
pass by for lack of a welcome. It is often necessary, therefore, for
the teacher to revive old impressions, to call up previously acquired
knowledge and to put it in readiness to receive and welcome the new.
The success with which this is done is often the difference between
good and poor teaching.
We might suppose that when two persons look at the same object they
would get the _same impression_, but this is not true at all. Where
one person faints with fright or emotion another sees nothing to be
disturbed at. Two travelers come in sight of an old homestead. To one
it is an object of absorbing interest as the home of his childhood; to
the other it is much like any other old farm house. What is the cause
of this difference? Not the house. It is the same in both cases. It
is remarkable how much color is given to every idea that enters into
the mind by the ideas already there. Some visitors at the World's Fair
can tell almost at a glance to what states many of the buildings
belong; other visitors must study this out on the maps and notices.
One who is familiar with the history, architecture, and products of the
different states is able to classify many of the buildings with ease.
His previous knowledge of these states interprets their buildings. Mt.
Vernon naturally belongs to Virginia, Independence Hall to
Pennsylvania, John Hancock's house to Massachusetts. In a still more
striking manner, a knowledge of foreign countries enables the observer
to classify such buildings as the French, the German, the Swedish, the
Japanese, etc. Again, in viewing any exhibit our enjoyment and
appreciation depend almost entirely upon our previous knowledge, not
upon our eye-sight or our physical endurance. Many objects of the
greatest value we pass by with an indifferent glance because our
previous knowledge is not sufficient to give us their meaning.
If a dry goods merchant, a horse jockey, and an architect pass down a
city street together, what will each observe? The merchant notices all
the dry goods stores, their displays, and their favorable or
unfavorable location. The jockey sees every horse and equipage; he
forms a quiet but quick judgment upon every passing animal. The
architect sees the buildings and style of construction. If in the
evening each is called upon to give his observations for the day, the
jockey talks of horses and describes some of the best specimens in
detail; the merchant speaks of store-fronts and merchandise; the
architect is full of elevations of striking or curious buildings. The
architect and merchant remember nothing, perhaps, about the horses; the
jockey nothing of stores or buildings. Three people may occupy the
same pew in a church; the one can tell you all about the music, the
second the good points in the sermon, and the third the style and
becomingness of the bonnets and dresses. Each one sees what he has in
his own mind. A teacher describes Yosemite Valley to a geography
class. Some of the children construct a mental picture of a gorge with
steep mountain sides, but no two pictures are alike; some have mental
pictures that resemble nothing in heaven above or earth below; some
have constructed----nothing at all! only the echo of a few spoken
words. If the teacher, at the close of her description, could have the
mental state of each child photographed on the blackboard of her
schoolroom she would be in mental distress. In presenting such topics
to children, much depends upon the previous content of their minds,
upon the colors out of which they paint the pictures.
We are now prepared for a more accurate _definition_ of apperception.
"The transformation of a newer (weaker) concept by means of an older
one surpassing the former in power and inner organization bears the
name of apperception, in contrast to the unaltered reception of the
same perception." (Lindner's Psychol. p. 124, trans. by De Garmo.)
Lindner remarks further, "Apperception is the reaction of the old
against the new--in it is revealed the preponderance which the older,
firmer, and more self-contained concept groups have in contrast to the
concepts which have just entered consciousness." Again, "It is _a kind
of process of condensation of thought_ and brings into the mental life
a certain stability and firmness, in that it subordinates new to older
impressions, puts everything in its right place and in its right
relation to the whole, and in this way works at that organic formation
of our consciousness which we call _culture_." (Lindner p. 126.)
"Apperception may be defined as that interaction between two similar
ideas or thought-complexes in the course of which the weaker,
unorganized, isolated idea or thought-complex is incorporated into the
richer, better digested, and more firmly compacted one." (Lange,
Apperception, p. 13.)
Oftentimes, therefore, older ideas or thought masses, being clear,
strong, and well-digested receive a new impression to modify and
appropriate it. This is especially true where opinions have been
carefully formed after thought and deliberation. A well-trained
political economist, for example, when approaching a new theory or
presentation of it by a George or Bellamy, meets it with all the
resources of a well-stored, thoughtful mind; and admits it, if at all,
in a modified form to his system of thought. Sometimes, however, a new
theory, which strikes the mind with great clearness and vigor, is able
to make a powerful assault upon previous opinions, and perhaps modify
or overturn them. This is the more apt to be the case if one's
previous ideas have been weak and undecided. In the interaction
between the old and new the latter then become the apperceiving forces.
Upon the untrained or poorly-equipped mind a strong argument has a more
decisive effect than it may justly deserve. As we noticed above, new
ideas, especially those coming directly through the senses, are often
more vivid and attractive than similar old ones. For this reason they
usually occupy greater attention and prominence at first than later,
when the old ideas have begun to revive and reassert themselves. Old
ideas usually have the advantage over the new in being better
organized, more closely connected in series and groups; and having been
often repeated, they acquire a certain permanent ascendency in the
thoughts. In this interaction between similar notions, old and new,
the differences at first arrest attention, then gradually sink into the
background, while the stronger points of resemblance begin to
monopolize the thought and bind the notions into a unity.
The use of familiar notions in acquiring an insight into new things is
a _natural tendency_ or drift of the mind. As soon as we see something
new and desire to understand it, at once we involuntarily begin to
ransack our old stock of ideas to discover anything in our previous
experience which corresponds to this or is like it. For whatever is
like it or has an analogy to it, or serves the same uses, will explain
this new thing, though the two objects be in other points essentially
different. We are, in short, constantly falling back upon our old
experiences and classifications for the explanation of new objects that
appear to us.
So far is this true that the _most ordinary things_ can only be
explained in the light of experience. When John Smith wrote a note to
his companions at Jamestown, and thus communicated his desires to them,
it was unintelligible to the Indians. They had no knowledge of writing
and looked on the marks as magical. When _Columbus' ships_ first
appeared on the cost of the new world, the natives looked upon them as
great birds. They had never seen large sailing vessels. To vary the
illustration, the _art of reading_, so easy to a student, is the
accumulated result of a long collection of knowledge and experience.
There is an unconscious employment of apperception in the practical
affairs of life that is of interest. We often see a person at a
distance and by some slight characteristic of motion, form, or dress,
recognize him at once. From this slight trace we picture to ourselves
the person in full and say we saw him in the street. Sitting in my
room at evening I hear the regular passenger train come in. The noise
alone suggests the engine, cars, conductor, passengers, and all the
train complete. As a matter of fact I saw nothing at all but have
before my mind the whole picture. On Sunday morning I see some one
enter a familiar church door, and going on my way the whole picture of
church, congregation, pastor, music and sermon come distinctly to my
mind. Only a passing glance at one person entering suggests the whole
scene. In looking at a varied landscape we see many things which the
sensuous eye alone would not detect, distances, perspective and
relative size, position and nature of objects. This apperceptive power
is of vast importance in practical life as it leads to quick judgment
and action, when personal examinations into details would be impossible.
In apperception we never pass from the known to things which are
_entirely new_. Absolutely new knowledge is gained by perception or
intuition. When an older person meets with something totally new, he
either does not notice it or it staggers him. Apperception does not
take place. In many cases we are disturbed or frightened, as children,
by some new or sudden noise or object. But most so-called new things
bear sufficient resemblance to things seen before to admit of
explanation. Strange as the sights of a Chinese city might appear, we
should still know that we were in a city. In most "new" objects of
observation or study, the familiar parts greatly preponderate over the
unfamiliar. In a new reading lesson, for example, most of the words
and ideas are well known, only an occasional word requires explanation
and that by using familiar illustrations. The flood of our familiar
and oft-repeated ideas sweeps on like a great river, receiving here and
there from either side a tributary stream, that is swallowed up in its
waters without perceptible increase.
So strong is the apperceiving force of familiar notions that they drag
far-distant scenes in geography and history into the home neighborhood
and locate them there. The _imagination_ works in conjunction with the
apperceiving faculty and constructs real pictures. Children are
otherwise inclined to substitute one thing for another by imagination.
With boys and girls, geographical objects about home are often
converted by fancy into representatives of distant places. It is
related of _Byron_ that while reading in childhood the story of the
Trojan war, he localized all the places in the region of his home. An
old hill and castle looking toward the plain and the sea were his Troy.
The stream flowing through the plain was the Simois. The places of
famous conflicts between the Trojans and Greeks were located. So vivid
were the pictures which these home scenes gave to the child, that years
later in visiting Asia Minor and the sight of the real Troy, he was not
so deeply impressed as in his boyhood. A _German professor_ relates
that he and his companions, while reading the Indian stories of Cooper,
located the important scenes in the hills and valleys about Eisenach in
the Thuringian mountains. Many other illustrations of the same
imaginative tendency to substitute home objects for foreign ones are
given. But whether or not this experience is true of us all, it is
certain that we can form no idea of foreign places and events except as
we _construct_ the pictures out of the _fragments_ of things that we
have known. What we have seen of rivers, lands, and cities must form
the materials for picturing to ourselves distant places.
Since the old ideas have so much to do with the proper reception of the
new, let us examine more closely the _interaction_ of the two. If a
_new idea_ drops into the mind, like a stone upon the surface of the
water, it produces a commotion. It acts as a stimulus or wakener to
the old ideas sleeping beneath the surface. It draws them up above the
surface-level; that is, into consciousness. But what ideas are thus
disturbed? There are thousands of these latent ideas, embryonic
thoughts, beneath the surface. Those which possess sufficient kinship
to this new-comer to hear his call, respond. For in the mind "birds of
a feather flock together." Ideas and thoughts which resemble the new
one answer, the others sleep on undisturbed, except a few who are so
intimately associated with these kinsmen as to be disturbed when they
are disturbed. Or, to state it differently, certain thought-groups or
complexes, which contain elements kindred to the new notion, are
agitated and raised into conscious thought. They seem to respond to
their names. The new idea may continue for some time to stimulate and
agitate. There appears to be a sort of telegraphic inquiry through the
regions of the mind to find out where the kindred dwell. The distant
relatives and strangers (the unrelated or unserviceable ideas) soon
discover that they have responded to the wrong call and drop back to
sleep again. But the real kindred wake up more and more. They come
forward to inspect the new-comer and to examine his credentials. Soon
he finds that he is surrounded by inquisitive friends and relatives.
They threaten even to take possession of him. Up to this point the new
idea has taken the lead, he has been the aggressor. But now is the
time for the awakened kindred ideas to assume control and lead the
stranger captive, to bring him in among themselves and give him his
appropriate place and importance. The _old body of ideas_, when once
set in motion, is more powerful than any single-handed stranger who
happens to fall into their company. The outcome is that the stranger,
who at first seemed to be producing such a sensation, now discovers
that strong arms are about him and he is carried captive by vigorous
friends. New ideas when first entering the mind are very strong, and,
if they come through the senses, are especially rich in the color and
vigor of real life. They therefore absorb the attention at first and
seem to monopolize the mental energies; but the older thought masses,
when fully aroused, are better organized, more firmly rooted in habit,
and possess much wider connections. They are almost certain,
therefore, to apperceive the new idea; that is, to conquer and subdue
it, to make it tributary to their power.
Let us examine more closely the _effect_ of the process of apperception
upon the new and old ideas that are brought in contact. First, observe
the effect upon the _new_: Many an idea which is not strong enough in
itself to make a lasting impression, upon the mind would quickly fade
out and be forgotten were it not that in this process the old ideas
throw it into a clear light, give it more meaning, associate it closely
with themselves, and thus save it. Two persons look at the sword of
Washington; one examines it with deep interest, the other scarcely
gives it a second glance. The one remembers it for life, the other
forgets it in an hour. The sense perception was the same in both
persons at first, but the reception given to the idea by one converts
it into a lasting treasure. A little lamp-black, rolled up between
finger and thumb, suggested to Edison his carbon points for the
electric light. A piece of lamp-black would produce no such effect in
most peoples minds. The difference is in the reception accorded to an
idea. The meaning and importance of an idea or event depend upon the
interpretation put upon it by our previous experience. "Many a weak,
obscure, and fleeting perception would pass almost unnoticed into
obscurity, did not the additional activity of apperception hold it fast
in consciousness. This sharpens the senses, _i.e._, it gives to the
organs of sense a greater degree of energy, so that the watching eye
now sees, and the listening ear now hears, that which ordinarily would
pass unnoticed. The events of apperception give to the senses a
peculiar keenness, which underlies the skill of the money-changer in
detecting a counterfeit among a thousand bank-notes, notwithstanding
its deceptive similarity; of the jeweler who marks the slightest,
apparently imperceptible, flaw in an ornament; of the physicist who
perceives distinctly the overtones of a vibrating string. According to
this we see and hear not only with the eye and ear, but quite as much
with the help of our present knowledge, with the apperceiving content
of the mind." (Apperception, Lange, De Garmo, p. 21.)
Some even intelligent and sensible people can walk through Westminster
Abbey and see nothing but a curious old church with a few graves and
monuments. To a person well-versed in English history and literature
it is a shrine of poets, a temple of heroes, the common resting-place
of statesmen and kings.
Secondly, what is the _effect on the old ideas_? Every idea that newly
enters the mind produces changes in the older groups and series of
thought. Any one new idea may cause but slight changes, but the
constant influx of new experiences works steadily at a modification and
rearrangement of our previous stores of thought. Faulty and incomplete
groups and concepts are corrected or enlarged; that is, changed from
psychical into logical notions. Children are surprised to find little
flowers on the oaks, maples, walnuts, and other large forest trees. On
account of the small size of the blossoms, heretofore unnoticed, they
had not thought of the great trees as belonging to the flowering
plants. Their notion of flowering plants is, therefore, greatly
enlarged by a few new observations. The bats flying about in the
twilight have been regarded as birds; but a closer inspection shows
that they belong to another class, and the notion bird must be limited.
As already observed in the discussion of induction, most of our
psychical notions are thus faulty and incomplete; _e.g._, the ideas
fruit, fish, star, insect, mineral, ship, church, clock, dog, kitchen,
library, lawyer, city, etc. Our notions of these and of hundreds of
other such classes are at first both incomplete and faulty. The inflow
of new ideas constantly modifies them, extending, limiting, explaining,
and correcting our previous concepts.
Sometimes, however, a single new thought may have wide-reaching
effects; it may even revolutionize one's previous modes of thinking and
reorganize one's activities about a new center. With Luther, for
instance, the idea of justification by faith was such a new and potent
force, breaking up and rearranging his old forms of thought. St.
Paul's vision on the way to Damascus is a still more striking
illustration of the power of a new idea or conviction. And yet, even
in such cases, the old ideas reassert themselves with great persistence
and power. Luther and St. Paul remained, even after these great
changes, in many respects the same kind of men as before. Their old
habits of thinking were modified, not destroyed; the direction of their
lives was changed, but many of their habits and characteristics
remained almost unaltered.
Apperception, however, is not limited to the effects of _external
objects_ upon us, to the influence of ideas coming from without upon
our old stores of knowledge. Old ideas, long since stored in the mind,
may be freshly called up and brought into such contact with each other
that new results follow, new apperceptions take place. In moments of
reflection we are often surprised by conclusions that had not presented
themselves to us before. A new light dawns upon us and we are
surprised at not having seen it before. In fact, it makes little
difference whether the idea suggested to the mind comes from within or
from without if, when it once enters fairly into consciousness, it has
power to stimulate other thoughts, to wake up whole thought complexes
and bring about a process of action and reaction between itself and
others. The result is new associations, new conclusions, new mental
products--apperceptions.
This _inner apperception_, as it has been sometimes called, takes place
constantly when we are occupied with our own thoughts, rather than with
external impressions. With persons of deep, steady, reflective habits,
it is the chief means of organizing their mental stores. The feelings
and the will have much also to do with this process.
The laws of association draw the _feelings_ as much as the intellectual
states into apperceptive acts. I hear of a friend who has had
disasters in business and has lost his whole fortune. If I have never
experienced such difficulties myself, the chances are that the news
will not make a deep impression upon me. But if I have once gone
through the despondency of such a crushing defeat, sympathy for my
friend will be awakened, and I may feel his trouble almost as my own.
The meaning of such an item of news depends upon the response which it
finds in my own feelings. It is well known that those friends can best
sympathize with us in our trouble who have passed through the same
troubles. Even enemies are not lacking in sympathy with each other
when an appeal is made to deep feelings and experiences common to both.
The feeling of _interest_, which we have emphasized so much, is
chiefly, if not wholly, dependent upon apperceptive conditions. Select
a lesson adapted to the age and understanding of a child, present it in
such a way as to recall and make use of his previous experience, and
interest is certain to follow. The outcome of a successful act of
apperception is always a feeling of pleasure, or at least of interest.
When the principle of apperception is fully applied in teaching, the
progress from one point to another is so gradual and clear that it
gives pleasure. The clearness and understanding with which we receive
knowledge adds greatly to our interest in it. On the contrary, when
apperception is violated, and new knowledge is only half understood and
assimilated there can be but little feeling of satisfaction. "The
overcoming of certain difficulties, the accession of numerous ideas,
the success of the act of knowledge or recognition, the greater
clearness that the ideas have gained, awaken a feeling of pleasure. We
become conscious of the growth of our knowledge and power of
understanding. The significance of this new impression for our ego is
now more strongly felt than at the beginning or during the course of
the progress. To this pleasurable feeling is easily added the effort,
at favorable opportunity, to reproduce the product of the apperception,
to supplement and deepen it, to unite it to other ideas, and so further
to extend certain chains of thought. The summit or sum of these states
of mind we happily express with the word interest. For in reality the
feeling of self appears between the various stages of the process of
apperception (_inter esse_); with one's whole soul does one contemplate
the object of attention. If we regard the acquired knowledge as the
objective result of apperception, interest must be regarded as the
subjective side." (Lange, Apperception, page 19.)
Finally, the _will_ has much to do with conscious efforts at
apperception. It holds the thought to certain groups; it excludes or
pushes back irrelevant ideas that crowd in; it holds to a steady
comparison of ideas, even where perplexity and obscurity trouble the
thinker. When the process of reaching a conclusion takes much time,
when conflict or contradiction have to be removed or adjusted, when
reflection and reasoning are necessary, the will is of great importance
in giving coherency and steadiness to the apperceptive effort. A
conscious effort at apperception, therefore, may include many elements,
sense perceptions, ideas recalled, feeling, _will_.
"Let us now sum up the essentials in the process of apperception.
First of all, an external or internal perception, an idea, or
idea-complex appears in consciousness, finding more or less response in
the mind; that is, giving rise to greater or less stimulation to
thought and feeling.
"In consequence of this, and in accordance with the psychical mechanism
or an impulse of the will, one or more groups of thoughts arise, which
enter into relation to the perception. While the two masses are
compared with one another, they work upon one another with more or less
of a transforming power. New thought-combinations are formed, until,
finally, the perception is adjusted to the stronger and older thought
combination. In this way all the factors concerned gain in value as to
knowledge and feeling; especially, however, does the new idea gain a
clearness and activity that it never would have gained for itself.
_Apperception is, therefore, that psychical activity by which
individual perceptions, ideas, or idea-complexes are brought into
relation to our previous intellectual and emotional life, assimilated
with it, and thus raised to greater clearness, activity, and
significance._" (Lange, Apperception, page 41.)
Important _conclusions_ drawn from a study of apperception:
1. _Value of previous knowledge_. If knowledge once acquired is so
_valuable_ we are first of all urged to make the acquisition permanent.
Thorough mastery and frequent reviews are necessary to make knowledge
stick. Careless and superficial study is injurious. It is sometimes
carelessly remarked by those who are supposed to be wise in educational
matters that it makes no difference how much we forget if we only have
proper drill and training to study. That is, how we study is more
important than what we learn. But viewed in the light of apperception,
acquired knowledge should be retained and used, for it unlocks the door
to more knowledge. _Thorough mastery and retention_ of the elements of
knowledge in the different branches is the only solid road to progress.
In this connection we can see the importance of learning only what is
_worth remembering_, what will prove a valuable treasure in future
study. In the selection of material for school studies, therefore, we
must keep in mind knowledge which, as Comenius says, is of _solid
utility_. Having once selected and acquired such materials, we are
next impelled to make _constant use_ of them. If the acquisition of
new information depends so much upon the right use of previous
knowledge, we are called upon to build constantly upon this foundation.
This is true whether the child's knowledge has been acquired at school
or at home. In order to make things clear and interesting to boys and
girls we must refer every day to what they have before learned in
school and out of school.
Again, if we accept the doctrine that old ideas are the materials out
of which we constantly build _bridges_ across into new fields of
knowledge, we must _know the children_ better and what store of
knowledge they have already acquired. Just as an army marching into a
new country must know well the country through which it has passed and
must keep open the line of communication and the base of supplies, so
the student must always have a safe retreat into his past, and a base
of supplies to sustain him in his onward movements. The tendency is
very strong for a grade teacher to think that she needs to know nothing
except the facts to be acquired in her own grade. But she should
remember that her grade is only a station on the highway to learning
and life. In teaching we cannot by any shift dispense with the ideas
children have gained at home, at play, in the school and outside of it.
This, in connection with what the child has learned in the previous
grades, constitutes a stock of ideas, a capital, upon which the teacher
should freely draw in illustrating daily lessons.
2. The use of our acquired stock of ideas involves a constant _working
over_ of old ideas, and this working-over process not only reviews and
strengthens past knowledge, keeping it from forgetfulness, but it
throws new light upon it and exposes it to a many-sided criticism. In
the first place familiar ideas should not be allowed to rest in the
mind _unused_. Like tools for service they must be kept bright and
sharp. One reason why so many of the valuable ideas we have acquired
have gradually disappeared from the mind is because they remained so
long unused that they faded out of sight. The old saying that
"repetition is the mother of studies" needs to be recalled and
emphasized. By being put in contact, with new ideas, old notions are
seen and appreciated in new relations. Facts that have long lain
unexplained in the mind, suddenly receive a _new interpretation_, a
vivid and rational meaning. Or the old meaning is intensified and
vivified by putting a new fact in conjunction with it.
Where the climate and products of the British Isles have been studied
in political geography, and later on, in physical geography, the gulf
stream is explained in its bearings on the climate of western Europe,
the whole subject of the climate of England is viewed from a new and
interesting standpoint. In arithmetic, where the sum of the squares of
the two sides of a right-angled triangle is illustrated by an example
and later on in geometry the same proposition is taken up in a
different way and proved as a universal theorem, new and interesting
light is thrown upon an old problem of arithmetic. In _United States
history_, after the Revolution has been studied, the biography of a man
like Samuel Adams throws much additional and vivid light upon the
events and actors in Boston and Massachusetts. The life of John Adams
would give a still different view of the same great events; just as a
city, as seen from different standpoints, presents different aspects.
3. We have thus far shown that new ideas are more easily understood and
assimilated when they are brought into close contact with what we
already know; and secondly, that our old knowledge is often explained
and illuminated by new facts brought to bear upon it. We may now
observe the result of this double action--_the welding_ of old and new
into one piece, the close mingling and association of all our
knowledge, _i.e._, its unity. Apperception, therefore, has the same
final tendency that was observed in the _inductive process_, the
unification of knowledge, the concentration of all experience by
uniting its parts into groups and series. The smith, in welding
together two pieces of iron, heats both and then hammers them together
into one piece. The teacher has something similar to do. He must
revive old ideas in the child's mind, then present the new facts and
bring the two things together while they are still fresh, so as to
cause them to coalesce. To prove this observe how long division may be
best taught. Call up and review the method of short division, then
proceed to work a problem in long division calling attention to the
similar steps and processes in the two, and finally to the difference
between them.
The defect of much teaching in children's classes is that the _teacher_
does not properly provide for the welding together of the new and old.
The important practical question after all is whether instructors see
to it that children recall their previous knowledge. It is necessary
to take special pains in this. Nothing is more common than to find
children forgetting the very thing which, if remembered, would explain
the difficult point in the lesson. Teachers are often surprised that
children have forgotten things once learned. But, in an important
sense, we encourage children to forget by not calling into use their
acquisitions. Lessons are learned too much, each by itself, without
reference to what precedes or what follows, or what effect this lesson
of to-day may have upon things learned a year ago. Putting it briefly,
children and teachers do not _think_ enough, pondering things over in
their minds, relating facts with each other, and bringing all knowledge
into unity, and into a clear comprehension. The habit of
_thoughtfulness_, engendered by a proper combining of old and new, is
one of the valuable results of a good education. It gives the mind a
disposition to glance backward or forward, to judge of all old ideas
from a broader, more intelligent standpoint. Thinking everything over
in the light of the best experience we can bring to bear upon it,
prevents us from jumping at conclusions.
The general _plan of all studies_ is based upon this notion of
acquiring knowledge by the assistance of accumulated funds. In
_Arithmetic_ it would be folly to begin with long division before the
multiplication table is learned. In _Geometry_, later propositions
depend upon earlier principles and demonstrations. In _Latin_,
vocabularies and inflections and syntactical relations must be mastered
before readiness in the use of language is reached. And so it is to a
large degree in the general plan of all studies. In spite of this no
principle is more commonly violated in daily recitations than that of
apperception. Its value is self-evident as a principle for the
arrangement of topics in any branch of study, but it is overlooked in
daily lessons. Instead of this new knowledge is acquired by a
thoughtless memory drill.
In this welding process we desire to determine how far an actual
concentration may take place _between school studies_ and _the home and
outside life of children_. The stock of ideas and feelings which a
child from its infancy has gathered from its peculiar history and home
surroundings is the primitive basis of its personality. Its thought,
feeling, and individuality are deeply interwoven with home experience.
No other set of ideas, later acquired, lies so close to its heart or is
so abiding in its memory. The memory of work and play at home; of the
house, yard, trees, and garden; of parents, brothers, and sisters, and
in addition to this the experiences connected with neighbors and
friends, the town and surrounding country, the church and its
influence, the holidays, games, and celebrations, all these things lie
deeper in the minds of children than the facts learned about grammar,
geography, or history in school. Any plan of education that ignores
these home-bred ideas, these events, memories, and sympathies of home
and neighborhood life, will make a vital mistake. A concentration that
keeps in mind only the school studies and disregards the rich funds of
ideas that every child brings from his home, must be a failure, because
it only includes the weaker half of his experience. Home knowledge
itself does not need to be made a concentrating center, but all its
best materials must be drawn into the concentrating center of the
school. But children bring many faulty, mistaken, and even vicious
ideas from their homes. It is well to know the actual situation. It
is the work of the school, at every step, while receiving, to correct,
enlarge, or arrange the faulty or disordered knowledge brought into the
school by children. We unconsciously use these materials, and depend
upon them for explaining new lessons, more constantly than we are aware
of. In fact, if we were wise teachers, we would consciously make a
more frequent use of them and, in order to render them more valuable,
take special pains to review, correct, and arrange them. We would
teach children to observe more closely and to remember better the
things they daily see.
We shall appreciate better the value of _home knowledge_ if we take
note of the direct and constant dependence of the most important
studies upon it. We usually think of history as something far away in
New England, or France, or Egypt. History is mainly the study of the
actions, customs, homes, and institutions of men in different
countries. But what an abundance of similar facts and observations a
child has gathered about home before he begins the study of history.
From his infancy he has seen people of all sorts and conditions, rich
and poor, ignorant and learned, honorable and mean. He has seen all
sorts of human actions, learned to know their meaning and to pass
judgment upon them. He has seen houses, churches, public buildings,
trade and commerce, and a hundred human institutions. The child has
been studying human actions and institutions in the concrete for a
dozen years before he begins to read and recite history from books.
Without the knowledge thus acquired out of school, society, government,
and institutions would be worse than Greek. Geography as taught in the
books would be totally foreign and strange but for the abundance of
ideas the child has already picked up about hills, streams, roads,
travel, storms, trees, animals, and people.
Natural science lessons must be based on a more careful study of things
already seen about home--rocks and streams, flowers and plants, animals
wild and tame. These with the forests, fields, brooks, seasons, tools,
and inventions, are the necessary object lessons in natural science
which can serve daily to illustrate other lessons. How near then do
the natural science topics, geography and history, stand to the daily
home life of a child! How intimate should be the relations which the
school should establish between the parts of a child's experience!
This is concentration in the broadest sense. A proper appreciation of
this principle will save us from a number of common errors. Besides
constantly associating home and school knowledge, we shall try to know
the home and parents better, and the disposition and surroundings of
each child. We shall be ready at any time to render home knowledge
more clear and accurate, to correct faulty observation and opinion.
While the children will be encouraged to illustrate lessons from their
own experience, we shall fall into the excellent habit of explaining
new and difficult points by a direct appeal to what the pupils have
seen and understood. In short, there will be a disposition to draw
into the concentrating work of the school all the deeper but outside
life-experiences which form so important an element in the character of
every person, which, however, teachers so often overlook. No other
institution has such an opportunity or power to concentrate knowledge
and experience as the school.
4. Another valuable educative result of apperception, cultivated in
this manner, is a _consciousness of power_ which springs from the
ability to make a good use of our knowledge. The oftener children
become aware that they have made a good use of acquired knowledge, the
more they are encouraged. They see the treasure growing in their hands
and feel conscious of their ability to use it. There is a mental
exhilaration like that coming from abundant physical strength and
health.
"Let us look back again at the results of our investigation. We
observed first what essential services apperception performs for the
human mind in the acquisition of new ideas, and for what an
extraordinary easement and unburdening the acquiring soul is indebted
to it. Should apperception once fail, or were it not implied in the
very nature of our minds, we should, in the reception of
sense-impressions, daily expend as much power as the child in its
earliest years, since the perpetually changing objects of the external
world would nearly always appear strange and new. We should gain the
mastery of external things more slowly and painfully, and arrive much
later at a certain conclusion of our external experience than we do
now, and thereby remain perceptibly behind in our mental development.
Like children with their A B C, we should be forced to take careful
note of each word, and not, as now, allow ourselves actually to
perceive only a few words in each sentence. In a word, without
apperception our minds, with strikingly greater and more exhaustive
labor, would attain relatively smaller results. Indeed, we are seldom
conscious of the extent to which our perception is supported by
apperception; of how it releases the senses from a large part of their
labor, so that in reality we listen usually with half an ear or with a
divided attention; nor, on the other hand, do we ordinarily reflect
that apperception lends the sense organs a greater degree of energy, so
that they perceive with greater sharpness and penetration than were
otherwise possible. We do not consider that apperception spares us the
trouble of examining ever anew and in small detail all the objects and
phenomena that present themselves to us, so as to get their meaning, or
that it thus prevents our mental power from scattering and from being
worn out with wearisome, fruitless detail labors. The secret of its
extraordinary success lies in the fact that it refers the new to the
old, the strange to the familiar, the unknown to the known, that which
is not comprehended to what is already understood and thus constitutes
a part of our mental furniture; that it transforms the difficult and
unaccustomed into the accustomed and causes us to grasp everything new
by means of old-time, well-known, ideas. Since, then, it accomplishes
great and unusual results by small means, in so far as it reserves for
the soul the greatest amount of power for other purposes, it agrees
with the general principle of the least expenditure of force, or with
that of the best adaptability of means to ends.
"As in the reception of new impressions, so also in working over and
developing the previously acquired content of the mind, the helpful
work of apperception shows itself. By connecting isolated things with
mental groups already formed, and by assigning to the new its proper
place among them, apperception not only increases the clearness and
definiteness of ideas, but knits them more firmly to our consciousness.
_Apperceiving ideas are the best aids to memory_. Again, so often as
it subordinates new impressions to older ones, it labors at the
association and articulation of the manifold materials of perception
and thought. By condensing the content of observation and thinking
into concepts and rules, or general experiences and principles, or
ideals and general notions, apperception produces connection and order
in our knowledge and volition. With its assistance there spring up
those universal thought complexes, which, distributed to the various
fields to which they belong, appear as logical, linguistic, aesthetic,
moral, and religious norms or principles. If these acquire a higher
degree of value for our feelings, if we find ourselves heartily
attached to them, so that we prefer them to all those things which are
contradictory, if we bind them to our own self, they will thus become
powerful mental groups, which spring up independent of the psychical
mechanism as often as kindred ideas appear in the mind. In the
presence of these they now make manifest their apperceiving power. We
measure and estimate them now according to universal laws. They are,
so to speak, the eyes and hand of the will, with which, regulating and
supplementing, rejecting and correcting, it lays a grasp upon the
content as well as upon the succession of ideas. They hinder the
purely mechanical flow of thought and desire, and our involuntary
absorption in external impressions and in the varied play of fancy. We
learn how to control religious impulses by laws, to rule thoughts by
thoughts. In the place of the mechanical, appears the regulated course
of thinking; in the place of the psychical rule of caprice, the
monarchical control of higher laws and principles, and the spontaneity
of the ego as the kernel of the personality. By the aid of
apperception, therefore, we are lifted gradually from psychical bondage
to mental and moral freedom. And now when ideal norms are
apperceivingly active in the field of knowledge and thought, of feeling
and will, when they give laws to the psychical mechanism, true culture
is attained." (Lange's Apperception, edited by DeGarmo, p. 99, etc.)
NOTE.--The freedom with which we quote extensively from Lange is an
acknowledgement of the importance of his treatise. We are indebted to
it throughout for many of the ideas treated.