Feeling plays an important part in the examinations by superintendents

for the promotion of pupils, or by State boards whose function it is

to license persons to teach or preach, to practise law, medicine, or

dentistry, or to test the fitness of applicants for some branch of civil

or military service. Examiners are often responsible for the failure

of those whom they examine. If the first questions arouse the fear of

failure, causing the mind to picture the disappointment and displeasure

of parents and teachers and friends, and the other evils which result

from a loss of class standing, the resulting emotions hinder effective

thinking and thus prevent the pupil from doing justice to himself and

his teachers. The expert seeks to lift those whom he examines above all

feelings of embarrassment. With a friendly smile, a kind word, and a few

easy questions he puts the mind at ease, dissipates the dread of failure,

and gets results which are an agreeable surprise to all concerned. If he

cannot otherwise make those before him work to the best advantage, he

will even sacrifice his dignity by the use of a good-natured joke which

turns the laugh upon himself or upon some other member of the board of

examiners. Jokes at the expense of any one of those examined are a

species of cruelty which cannot be too severely condemned, to say nothing

of the effect upon the results of the examination.

[Sidenote: Speculative thinking.]

[Sidenote: Darwin’s experience.]

Within certain limits thinking begets feeling, and feeling stimulates

thinking. Beyond these limits each interferes with the other. When

feeling rises to the height of passion it beclouds the judgment and

prevents reflection. Certain kinds of speculative thinking leave the

heart cold and ultimately destroy the better emotions and the warmer

affections. “It is terrible,” said the daughter of a voluminous writer

on theology, “when a man feels a perpetual impulse to write. It makes

him a stranger in his own house, and deprives wife and children of

their husband and father.” Abstract thinking may be indulged in to the

exclusion of the tastes and emotions which help to make life worth

living. The oft-quoted experience of Darwin is a case in point. In

his autobiography he gives his experience, showing the effect of his

exclusive devotion to scientific pursuits upon his ability to enjoy

poetry, music, and pictures. “Up to the age of thirty and beyond it

poetry of many kinds gave me great pleasure, and even as a school-boy I

took intense delight in Shakespeare, especially in the historical plays.

I have also said that pictures formerly gave me considerable and music

very great delight. But now for many years I cannot endure to read a

line of poetry. I have tried lately to read Shakespeare, and found it so

intolerably dull that it nauseated me. I have also almost lost my taste

for pictures or music. Music generally sets me thinking too energetically

on what I have been at work on, instead of giving me pleasure.... My mind

seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of

large collections of facts; but why this should have caused the atrophy

of that part of the brain alone, on which the higher tastes depend, I

cannot conceive.... If I had to live my life again, I would have made a

rule to read some poetry and listen to some music at least once a week;

for perhaps the parts of my brain now atrophied would thus have been

kept alive through use. The loss of these tastes is a loss of happiness,

and may possibly be injurious to the intellect, and more probably to the

moral character by enfeebling the emotional part of our nature.”[53]

[Sidenote: The sight of an audience.]

Every teacher has both felt and witnessed the effect of embarrassment

upon ability to think. To face an audience of a thousand people was

embarrassing to some excellent thinkers like Melanchthon and Washington.

On the other hand, the sight of a multitude of listening, upturned faces

stimulates natures and temperaments like that of Martin Luther and

Patrick Henry, causing them to think more vigorously and to feel more

deeply.

[Sidenote: Great thoughts.]

Great thoughts spring from the heart. This is certainly true of thoughts

which have lifted men to higher planes of effort. And it is true of the

best thoughts and volitions which a pupil puts forth. The desire for

knowledge may develop into the love of truth. The student is half made as

soon as he seeks knowledge for its own sake and values the possession of

truth above all other worldly possessions.

[Sidenote: Interest.]

The Herbartians deserve praise for the attention they have given the

doctrine of interest. The older text-books on psychology seldom refer

to interest as an important element in the education of the child. The

greatest boon which can come to a child is happiness, and this was

impossible in the days when fear of the rod held sway in the school-room.

Then children looked forward to the school with feelings of dread; they

went with fear and trembling. From the day that the children became

interested in their lessons the rod was no longer required. Instead of

crying because they must go to school, they now cry because they cannot

go. Through interest the school becomes the place to which children best

like to go.

[Sidenote: Interest in a clock.]

A boy who was pronounced incorrigible, and who had been transferred

from school to school because he could not get along with his teachers,

at last met a teacher who discovered that he could take apart and put

together watches and clocks. She allowed him to fix her clock, and thus

won his heart. She asked him to explain to the school the mechanism of

instruments for keeping time. His interest in clocks she connected with

the numbers twelve and sixty, then with the time-table, with denominate

numbers, and finally with the whole subject of arithmetic. Interest

in the exercises of the school converted the incorrigible boy into an

obedient and studious pupil.[54]

There is no more important element of emotion for teachers to cultivate

than that which enters into the feeling of interest. Interest sustains

the power of thought, diminishes the need of effort in the direction of

voluntary attention, and lies at the basis of all successful teaching,

book-making, and public speaking. The teacher, the writer, the speaker

who wearies us has lost his power over us. The lesson, the book, the

sermon that interests us has found an entrance to our minds; the greater

the interest the more potent and profound the influence upon the inner

life.

[Sidenote: Interest conditions ability to think.]

The moment a teacher begins to lose interest in a subject, that moment

he begins to lose his ability to teach that subject. From this point of

view the recent graduate has a manifest advantage over the old pedagogue

whose interest in the subjects of instruction has been dulled by frequent

repetition. The latter can keep himself from reaching the dead-line

by keeping up his studies in the allied departments of knowledge, and

by watching the growth of mind and heart in his pupils,—a growth that

always reveals something new and interesting by reason of the boundless

possibilities that slumber in every human being. The interest in the

growing mind is spontaneously transferred to the branches of knowledge

which stimulate that growth, and, in ways that no one can explain, the

interest which the teacher feels is communicated to the pupils whose

minds are prepared to grasp his instruction.

[Sidenote: Fiction.]

By far the larger proportion of books taken from our free libraries are

books of fiction,—books which appeal to our emotional life. It shows

that even those who are habitual readers can be best reached through the

emotions. Of course, the act of reading proves that their feelings are

reached through the intellect; yet it cannot be denied that emotion is

the element of their inner life which sustains the interest in the novel.

Appeals to the intellect which do not touch the heart fail to reach the

deepest depths of our being, and hence fail to stimulate in others the

productive powers of the soul. Only thoughts which come from the heart

can reach the heart. This is true of the child and the adult, of the

reader and the listener, of the scientist and the man of affairs, of the

author and the editor, of the orator and the philosopher, of the teacher,

and, in short, of all whose duty it is to stimulate the thinking and to

influence the conduct of their fellow-men.

XIX

THINKING AND WILLING

Strong reasons make strong actions.

SHAKESPEARE.

Bad thoughts quickly ripen into bad actions.

BISHOP PORTENS.

The man of thought strikes deepest, and strikes safely.

SAVAGE.

Reason is the director of man’s will, discovering in action

what is good; for the laws of well-doing are the dictates of

right reason.

HOOKER.

XIX

THINKING AND WILLING

Much thinking is spontaneous, in the sense that there is no conscious

effort of the will to direct and control the activity of the mind. Under

normal conditions the stream of thought flows onward, like the current

of water in the bed of a river. When the onward movement is interrupted,

an act of volition may be needed to bring the mind back to the regular

channel. There are forms of intellectual activity called dreaming,

reverie, and meditation, in which the ideas follow each other without

any effort to regulate them. Often they are fanciful, incoherent, and

illogical; they are suggested by passing objects, by musical sounds,

perhaps by the stimulating influence of a drug or narcotic. Few can

start a train of thought, winding up their minds as they would a clock,

and then letting it run down until the discourse, lecture, or newspaper

article is complete, no conscious effort of the will being required to

keep the mind from wandering. This may be partly a gift of nature, but

mostly it is the result of discipline.

[Sidenote: Discipline.]

[Sidenote: Mental discipline.]

What is discipline? We speak of mental discipline, of military

discipline, of family discipline. What is the element which all these

have in common? An army is under discipline when every soldier and every

officer is subject to the will of his superior, so that the entire

body of men can be moved against the foe at the will of the commanding

general. A family is under discipline when the entire household is under

the control of the head of the house. The school is under discipline when

all the pupils are subject to the will of the teacher, and to the rules

which he has laid down for the regulation of conduct. The mind is under

discipline when its powers are under the control of the will, and its

activities are in accord with the laws of thought. It is important to

ascertain the laws of thought which underlie correct thinking. These are

developed and discussed in treatises on logic,—a science that should be

mastered not only by those who must meet others in the field of argument

and controversy, but by all who seek to regulate the thinking of their

own minds, or to aid others in the formation of correct habits of thought.

[Sidenote: Habit.]

Fortunately, the law of habit here comes into play to lighten the

conscious effort of the will. When the intellect, through the guidance of

a conscious will, has acted according to the forms of thought in which

the logician can find no fallacies, it tends to act again in that way,

and the next time a less expenditure of conscious effort is required. The

thinking of the teacher, if correct and logical, tends to beget correct

and logical habits of thought on the part of the pupil. It is a piece

of good fortune to fall under the dominating influence of a towering

intellect. For a time the growing mind that is engaged in thinking

the thoughts, and mastering the speculations, the reflections, the

reasonings, of a master who is such not merely in name, but also in fact,

may be in a subjection very like unto intellectual slavery. Sooner or

later the day of emancipation arrives; and those who were not under the

invigorating tuition of such an intellectual giant are surprised at the

thought-power developed by the youth whose equal they hitherto fancied

themselves to be.

[Sidenote: Volitional control.]

Those who expect to spend their days in teaching, lecturing, preaching,

pleading, or writing have great reason to strive after the discipline

which results in placing all the powers of mind and heart under the

control of the will. The feelings which interfere with reflection should

be repressed and expelled by strenuous effort. The emotions which

stimulate thinking should be cherished and fostered. The inner nexus,

which binds ideas in logical trains of thought, should be followed until

the habit becomes second nature.

Thinking which goes forward according to some established habit

requires less effort than intellectual work that is accompanied with

much volitional effort. This fact serves as a valuable indication to

men who must do intellectual work for the press or the pulpit or the

lecture-room. Perhaps no one is better qualified to speak on this point

than Dr. Carpenter, who studied mental action from the physiological

point of view, and whose publications show the quality, as well as the

quantity, of his intellectual labor. He says,—

[Sidenote: Dr. Carpenter.]

“To individuals of ordinary mental activity who have been trained in the

habit of methodical and connected thinking, a very considerable amount

of _work_ is quite natural; and when such persons are in good bodily

health, and the subject of their labor is congenial to them,—especially

if it be one that has been chosen by themselves, as furnishing a

centre of attraction around which their thoughts spontaneously tend to

range themselves,—their intellectual operations require but little of

the controlling or directing power of the will, and may be continued

for long periods together without fatigue. But from the moment when

an indisposition is experienced to keep the attention fixed upon the

subject, and the thoughts wander from it unless coerced by the will, the

mental activity loses its spontaneous or automatic character; and (as in

the act of walking) more effort is required to maintain it volitionally

during a brief period, and more fatigue is subsequently experienced from

such exertion than would be involved in the continuance of an automatic

operation through a period many times as long. Hence he has found it

practically the greatest economy of mental labor to work vigorously when

he feels disposed to do so, and to refrain from exertion, so far as

possible, _when it is felt to be an exertion_. Of course, this rule is by

no means universally applicable; for there are many individuals who would

pass their whole time in listless inactivity if not actually spurred

on by the feeling of necessity. But it holds good for those who are

sufficiently attracted by objects of interest before them, or who have in

their worldly position a sufficiently strong motive to exertion to make

them feel that they _must_ work; the question with them being, _how_ they

can attain their desired results with the least expenditure of mental

effort.”[55]

[Sidenote: Jokes.]

There is a danger to which public speakers are exposed, against which

the efforts of a resolute will are not too potent. To capture a crowd

that is more easily moved by jokes than by argument, the speaker resorts

to sallies of wit and humor and turns the laugh upon an opponent. The

temptation to cultivate one’s gifts in this direction is very strong,

and when yielded to, it destroys the powers of logical reflection and

consecutive thought. Wit is illogical, because it introduces into

the current of thought what is foreign to the subject in hand, the

incongruity giving rise to the laughter. Wit and humor serve a useful

purpose in acting as a safety-valve to let off the discontent which

accumulates in the human breast, and may be used for that purpose with

great effect. But they should never be allowed to divert the stream

of thought from its logical channel. The reputation for wit and humor

may dispose people to laugh at everything a man says. It destroys their

respect for his judgment and impairs his power to follow a line of

thought to its legitimate conclusion. The ability to discuss a theme in

all its bearings and details implies the power to investigate a subject

in its essence and relations, to resolve an idea into its elements, and

to present these in the form most easily understood,—an object which

is as far from the purposes of the funny man as the poles are from the

equator.

[Sidenote: Forms of thought-expression.]

[Sidenote: Thinking in action.]

All thinking tends towards the expression of thought. “Every expression

of thought,” says Tracy, “whether it be word, or mark, or gesture,

is the result of an active will, and as such may be classed among

the movements.” Word, mark, and gesture do not exhaust the list of

movements by which the mind expresses thought. Every handicraft is a

form of expressing thought quite as important as writing and speaking

and gesticulating. The fine arts and the useful arts are so many ways

through which the will passes into thinking and issues in the expression

of thought. Movements for reform are the intense expressions of great

thoughts which have their origin in the heart. The men who spend their

lives in the atmosphere of colleges and universities are apt to be

satisfied if they have expressed their thoughts in a lecture or on the

printed page. They live in books, and their thinking terminates in books.

The thinking which issues in getting things done, in deeds, actions,

achievements, is undervalued and too often ignored. University men are

waking up to this defect in their thinking. They are throwing themselves

into movements for reform and giving the world splendid examples of the

translation of thought into vigorous action. The effort to carry theory

into practice reacts powerfully upon the mind, forces the individual to

see things as they are, and saves him from the habit of looking only

for things which the schools have taught him to expect. When thinking

issues in doing, the process promotes intellectual honesty. This remark

is especially applicable to exercises in which the hand makes in wood,

metal, marble, or clay what the mind has conceived. The execution cannot

be accurate unless the thinking has been accurate and satisfactory.

Drawing is a universal language. It imposes upon the mind a degree of

accuracy which is wanting in the fleeting spoken word or even in the more

permanent printed or written sentences.

[Sidenote: Thinking in business.]

The movements in manual training are an excellent preparation for the

movements in the handicrafts and the daily occupations by which men gain

the necessaries and the comforts of life. Ten thousand men are active

in supplying our breakfast-table, and many thousand more in providing

clothing, shelter, light, heat, and the manifold necessities and luxuries

of modern society. All these involve thinking quite as useful, as

logical, and as effective as the thinking which ends in talk or printer’s

ink. The relation of thinking to doing and the reflex influence which the

latter exerts upon the former is seen in the solution of problems and in

all exercises involving the application of knowledge. Manual training

is really and primarily a training in thinking, but it is the kind of

thinking most closely related to thinking in things, and its value in

education is so great that it has led to the formulation of the maxim,

We learn to do by doing,—a maxim which deserves separate consideration,

because, as usually applied, it is taken to mean that doing by the hand

necessarily and inevitably leads to thinking and knowing.

[Sidenote: Growth of the will.]

Another aspect of the relation of thinking to willing claims our

attention. Thinking is an important element in the growth of the will.

The education of the will is coming to be recognized as a matter

of supreme importance. The development of character is everywhere

emphasized. No teacher in these days regards intellectual training

as the sole or chief aim of the school. The philosopher is no longer

regarded as the highest type of humanity. The age demands that thought

shall pass into volition, and that volition shall manifest itself in

action. The executive is not satisfied with the investigation of a

subject in its essence and relations, with the elaboration of thought

into a system; he must get things done. Mere thinking he despises. The

philosopher he regards as a man troubled with ideas, the poet as a man

troubled with fancies and rhymes; he hates men who let their minds “go

astray into regions not peopled with real things, animate or inanimate,

even idealized, but with personified shadows created by the illusions of

metaphysics or by the mere entanglement of words, and think these shadows

the proper objects of the highest, the most transcendental philosophy.”

And the sympathies of the multitudes are on the side of the executive in

his exaltation of the will as the chief element of utility and success.

The acts of the will should be guided by intelligence. The will is weak

and vacillating if the ends to be accomplished are not clearly conceived,

if the purposes to be accomplished are not definitely thought out.

Thinking is the guide to willing. Thought gives direction to volition.

[Sidenote: Self-gratification.]

[Sidenote: Self-denial.]

[Sidenote: The right.]

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