fyxmll HmvOTitg Jitatg BOUGHl' WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF M^nvQ m. Sage 1S91 9755-2 BD241 .Lm"*" ""'™™'*y '■"'™fy '^^ W&lfflllllWIIllffl R- Lomer. olin 3 1924 028 941 850 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924028941 850 THE CONCEPT OF METHOD BY GERHARD R. LOMER, Ph.D. TEACHERS COLLEGE, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY CONTRIBUTIONS TO EDUCATION, NO. 34 PUBLISHED BY ®rarIfW0 ClnlUg*. ffloltnnbta MnixtetaM^ NEW YORK CITY 1910 Copyright, 1910, by Gerhard R. Lomer PREFACE There is in much of the philosophical writing of the present day a tendency to indulge in a sophisticated consideration of the minutiae of various aspects of experience, rather than an attempt to attain an organic view of the method of experience itself. The somewhat sudden introduction of scientific method into educational work and its widespread application to the phe- nomena of the school have necessarily involved a corresponding temporary neglect of the great body of intellectual and spiritual tradition which, after all, is the life of the school as an institu- tion. The fundamental problem of education must always be, in its broadest terms, the character of the process of interaction between an immature developing individual on the one hand and a more or less permanent organisation of social ideals and habits on the other hand. Historically the tendency has been to em- phasise either of what we may call these " terminal aspects " of the educational process to the comparative exclusion of the other; and the problem of the educational theory of the present day, if it is to take advantage of current conceptions of organic unity and of functional activity, will be to examine more closely this process of interaction between children, with all their in- finite promises and their unrealised potencies, and the social media through which alone they can reach their fullest and highest development. It is this interaction which is the method of education. With regard to the spirit in which the problem is to be ap- proached, a word or two of explanation may not be out of place. Children themselves draw near to the multiplicity of their juvenile experiences with the unconscious though implicit purpose of developing and of organising their little world. What they seek to do this consideration also attempts: the organisation and the interpretation of the method of experience; 3 4 The Concept of Method and it approaches the problem, as far as may be, in the same simpHcity of spirit, seeking to find in the " blooming buzzing confusion " of the complications of experience some unity, some coherent process of development, some idea of method. In view of some of the tendencies of contemporary education, there is need to repeat those wise words which were uttered by Francis Bacon three centuries ago, and which contain the key to the whole problem of method : " Nay, it is a point fit and neces- sary in the front and beginning of this work, without hesitation or reservation to be professed, that it is no less true in this human kingdom of knowledge, than in God's kingdom of heaven, that no man shall enter into it ' except he become first as a little child.' " The general course followed in this consideration of the his- torical significance and of the epistemological interpretation of the method of experience corresponds, as nearly as the limita- tions of material and of subject allow, with the general course of experience itself, no matter in what particular form or phase that experience may present itself. Whatever unity there is, therefore, in the following pages will be due in the first place to the purpose underlying them : the tracing out of the implica- tions of a too often uncritically accepted course of experience; and, in the second place, to the identity of the method employed in approaching each of the particular problems that present themselves. For it is true that when method is realised in its character of organic unity, it can be seen as well and as thor- oughly in microcosm as in macrocosm, in typical instances as well as in a detailed chronological conspectus. A word of explanation may seem to be necessary in connec- tion with the selection of the various types which have been chosen for consideration in the historical chapters, and which form the basis for the later interpretation. Other and more numerous philosophers and scientists might well have been in- cluded had the aim been historical completeness and not merely the review of a few typical instances of thinkers whose main object was to examine and to organise the method of experience. The lacunae in the concliiding chapters cannot be more ap- parent to the reader than they are to the writer "OTav avvrekemj &v dpumo£ education. In this movement he was not alone : Wolfgang Ratke (1571-1635), John Valentine Andreae with his " Reipublicae Christiano-Politicae Descriptio," and John Alsted with his " En- cyclopaedia Scientium Omnium" (1630), were all exponents of this same pansophic idea. Previous to the development of the schools of the Jesuits, method in the education offered by the schools of Europe had not been a conscious process. Bacon's "Advancement of Learn- ing" (1605) and his " Novum Organum " (1620), together with some influence from Vives (1492-1540) and Campanella (1568- 1639) with their insistence upon scientific method, gave an im- pulse to educational thought which bore fruit in the work of Comenius. Just as Bacon, in his "New Atlantis" (1617), had dreamed of a " Salomon's House " devoted to the knowledge of causes, to the enlargement of the bounds of human thought, and to the effecting of all things possible, so Comenius in his Panso- phiae praeludium, quo Sapientiae universalis necessitas, possi- bilitas facilitasque (si ratione certa ineatur) breviter ac dilcuide demonstratur (1639), expresses his belief in the necessity of a systematisation of human learning, and for the or- ganisation of a Pansophic College, which would be an in- stitution of universal knowledge. The two streams of medieval Humanism and of modem Realism united to form the current of 36 Comenius 37 Sense-Realism in education which flowed through Ratke, Andreae, and Alsted to Comenius, and on through him to Francke, Spener, and Hecker in Germany, and to Newton, Bentley, Spencer, and Huxley in England. However much Comenius may have been inspired by Bacon, and in spite of the fact that he considered the " Instauratio Magna " the most phil- osophical work of the century, he felt that Bacon " while giving the true key of Nature, did not unlock her secrets, but only showed, by a few examples, how they should be unlocked, and left the rest to future observations to be extended through cen- turies." In the preface to his " Physics " Comenius further in- sists upon the necessity of going to Nature rather than to books for our information. The senses are, before all, the great means of knowing. Throughout his "Didactica Magna" (circ. 1631) his great teacher is Nature, and her operations determine the character of the educational process which he outlines. This parallelism with the course of Nature constitutes what he calls the Syncretic method, by which, together with the analytic and synthetic modes, mankind learns to attain and to comprehend true knowledge. For Comenius the aim of education summed itself up under three heads: Eruditio, Virtus seu Mores Honesti, and Religio seu Piettts. Genetically, the seeds of Knowledge, Virtue, and Religion are implanted in human nature, but not these qualities themselves. Their development is the task of education. The process of education if it is to proceed compendiose, jucunde, solide, must follow the guidance of Nature, and must fulfil the following conditions : 1. It must begin early before the mind is corrupted. 2. The mind must be duly prepared to receive it. 3. We must proceed from the general to the particular. 4. And from what is easy to what is more difficult. 5. The pupil must not be overburdened by too many subjects. 6. Progress must be slow in every case. 7. The intellect must be forced to nothing to which its natural bent does not incline it, in accordance with its age and with the right method. 9. Everything must be taught through the medium of the senses. 38 The Concept of Method 10. Everything must be taught according to one and the same method. (Didactica Magna: XVII.) Drawing his illustrations always from organic nature, anc mak- ing the egg and the growing plant his favorite analogies, Co- menius summarises his method as follows : I. Principles of Method (i) Begin by a careful selection of materials (2) Prepare the materials so that they actually strive to attain the form (3) De- velop everything from beginnings which, though insignificant in appearance, possess great potential strength (4) Advance from what is easy to what is more difficult (5) Do not overburden yourself, but be content with a little (6) Do not hurry, but ad- vance slowly (7) Compel nothing to advance that is not driven forward by its own mature strength (8) Assist the operation in every possible manner (9) Only those things should be taught whose application can be easily demonstrated ■ ( 10) Be uniform in all operations. (Didactica Magna: XVII.) II. CoMons of Practice (i) Only those subjects that are of real use are to be taken in hand (2) These are to be taught without digression or inter- ruption (3) A thorough grounding must precede instruction in detail (4) This grounding must be carefully given (5) All that follows must be based on this grounding, and on nothing else (6) In every subject that consists of several parts, these parts must be linked together as much as possible (7) All that comes later must be based on what has gone before (&) Great stress must be laid on the points of resemblance between cognate sub- jects (9) All studies must be arranged with reference to the intelligence and memory of the pupils and the nature of the language (10) Knowledge must be fixed in the memory by con- stant practice. (Didactica Magna: XVIII.) III. The Function of the Senses ( I ) The commencement of knowledge must always come from the senses (for the understanding possesses nothing that it has not first derived from the senses). Comenius 39 (2) The truth and certainty of science depend more on the witness of the senses than on anything else, for things impress themselves directly on the senses, but on the understanding only mediately and through the senses. . . It follows, therefore, that if we wish to implant a true and certain knowledge of things in our pupils, we must take special care that everything can be learned by means of actual observation and sensuous perception. (3) Since the senses are the most trusty servants of the memory, this method of sensuous perception, if universally ap- plied, will lead to the permanent retention of knowledge that has once been acquired. (Didactica Magna: XX.) There are obviously for Comenius two very significant aspects of the method of education, one dealing with materials, and the other concerned with processes. In his other works, such as the " Janua Linguarum," the " Janua Rerum," and the " Orbis Pic- tus," Comenius had fully considered the material of education, as well as in the specific chapters of the " Didactica Magna " which deal with the sciences, the arts, languages, and morals. In every case the processes of nature are to be paralleled, so that the theory of education requires as an introductory discipline on the part of the teacher a knowledge of the phenomena of nature. Comenius embodies in an admirable way the first tentative efforts towards the functional conception of education as a phase of human experience. " Perfect knowledge of an object," he says, when speaking of the method of the sciences, " can only be obtained by acquiring a knowledge of the nature and 'function of each of its parts." He insists throughout his works upon the importance of knowl- edge in the experience of the individual, and his interpretation of the method of the learning process involves both the genetic and the teleological points of view. From the former, he em- phasises the necessity of teaching all things through their causal relations, and especially through a knowledge of the genetic stages in the process of their development. From the latter point of view Comenius holds that before anything can be truly known the general principles underlying it must be understood. Such knowledge we arrive at by answering the questions What? Of what kind? and Why? The answer to the first gives us the fact or function under consideration ; the second gives us the 40 The Concept of Method form or mode ; and the third, the efficient or causal force which enables the object to realise its end or function. Comenius is, therefore, very closely related to Bacon in the universality of the aim which he set before himself. He resembles Descartes in his starting-point, for " putting on one side the dis- coveries, thoughts, observations, and admonitions of others," he began "to investigate the matter thoughtfully, and to seek out the causes, the principles, the methods, and the objects of the art of teaching." (Didactica Magna: Greeting to the Reader.) He finally, by his excellent organisation of the method of education, prepares the way for the critical examination of experience which was the chief work of Immanuel Kant. CHAPTER V KANT The problem of Bacon and of Descartes had been the exam- ination of experience and the discovery of knowledge. The problem that confronted Kant (1724-1804) was no less funda- mental in its implications and no less universal in its scope: it involved a criticism of the process of experience itself, with the elimination of error as its negative aspect, and with the deter- mination of the relation of the subjective and the objective ele- ments of knowledge as its positive function. Kant himself gives philosophical expression to an attitude toward experience which had long been developing. Comenius, Locke, Voltaire, and Rousseau were all to some degree his prede- cessors in the criticism of the process of knowledge. The in- fluence of Rousseau (Emile, 1762) is widely visible in Kant, im- plicit or explicit, positive or negative, especially in the Ueber Pddagogik (lectures, 1776: published, 1803). The problem which Locke had set himself to solve, and which had been worked out in one way by Hume (1711-1776) was given a deeper significanoe by the treatment which it received from the mind of Kant. Locke, in the ^beginning of his " Essay " has said : " If, by this inquiry into the nature of the understanding, I can discover the powers thereof, how far they reach, to what things they are in any degree proportionate, and where they fail us, I suppose it may be of use to prevail with the busy mind of man, to be more cautious in meddling with things exceeding its comprehension, to stop when it is at the utmost extent of its tether, and to sit down in a quiet ignorance of things which, upon examination, are found to be beyond the reach of our capacities." It was this same task that Kant set himself to do, and he carried his inves- tigation much further and much deeper than Locke ever con- templated doing. 41 42 The Concept of Method Among the later writers to whom Kant owed much, both for his point of view and for his method, were Christian Wolff (Psychologia Empirica, 1732; Psyschologia Rationalis, 1734)1 Leibnitz, Sulzer, Moses Mendelssohn, and Tetens; but, whatever the philosophical materials which Kant found at his disposal, he made an entirely original use of them, and gave them an inter- pretation which is perhaps the most significant philosophical con- tribution which the eighteenth century has made to epistemology. Kant began his critical investigation of the process of experi- ence with the object of finding answers to three questions : (i) How can we have knowledge? The answer to this funda- mental problem of Epistemology he gave at length in " The Critique of Pure Reason" (1781). (2) How is human conduct to he influenced by man's knowl- edge? This problem, which has been the centre of ethical dis- cussion from the time of the Sophist to that of the Pragmatist, Kant considered in " The Critique of Practical Reason" (1788). (3) How are knowledge and conduct to he related in the uni- tary experience of every individual? This aesthetic and teleo- logical problem Kant attempted to solve in the third of his great critical Works, "The Critique of Judgment" (1790). Kant's main object, throughout his teaching and his writing, was an investigation of the method of knowledge. The particular questions in which the problem presented itself to him for solu- tion were : How far does knowledge depend on the materials of sense experience? How far can reason go toward the dis- covery of truth? What, ultimately, is the range of a priori knowledge? In asking these questions Kant clearly makes the distinction between the genetic and the teleological, between origin and validity, between the fact of experience, which is for- tuitous and conditioned, and the judgment of reason, which is necessary and universal. Previous to Kant, the emphasis in philosophical inquiry had been placed on sense perception as the basis of knowledge. The motto of philosophy had been : Nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuit in sensu. Philosophy is ex- periential, a posteriori, and must conform to the nature of the objects known. From his critical standpoint, which was the necessary develop- ment of the combination of Naturalism and of Rationalism in philosophic thought, Kant gave to the process of experience a Kant 43 new interpretation, by emphasising the function of Reason as giving validity to the impression of the senses. Instead of mak- ing thought conform to the objects, Kant beUeved that objects must conform to thought, and that consequently a priori judg- ments were possible. It must be borne in mind at this point, however, that Kant really takes the term object in two different senses : ( i ) as a thing existing by itself outside of the mind and independent of it; (2) as an object of perception existing in and for the mind. It is this double significance of object that makes it so difficult to relate in a consistent manner the doctrine of the " ding an sich " to the rest of Kant's epistemological system. It is to be noted, too, that Kant questions the truth of facts rather than the truth of processes, which is in reality just as much involved in any thorough-going theory of knowledge. There is the danger of attributing reality to objects of sense- perception and not to concepts themselves. Ideas have reality; and Kant does not always make clear the relation of ideas, things-in-themselves, and the phenomena of sense-experience. In his detailed treatment of the process and the objects of knowledge, Kant arbitrarily makes a distinction between " two stems of human knowledge, which perhaps spring from a com- mon 'but to us unknown root, namely sensibility and under- standing " : (i) Sensibility — receptivity for impressions. (2) Understanding — spontaneity of conception. The necessity of the interaction of these two is emphasised: " Neither conceptions without a perception in some way corre- sponding to them, nor perception without conceptions can yield any knowledge . . . without sensibility no object would be given to us, and without understanding no object would be thought. Thoughts without content are empty, perceptions with- out conceptions are blind . . . only by their union can knowl- edge arise." With these two aspects of knowledge realised, the problem still remains as to the possibility of a priori synthetic judgments. The objects of knowledge will be those which conform to this dual nature of the mind: they will be those aspects of reality which become phenomena of experience by conforming to the neces- sities of man's perceptual and conceptual mind. The correspon- 44 The Concept of Method dence between the course of nature and the mind of man is therefore regarded by Kant from the point of view of the limita- tions of a human theory of knowledge, rather than from the standpoint of the experiential universality and potentiality which the world offers. The problems of a priori judgments in their relation to the sensibility are treated in the " Transcendental Aesthetic " ; and in their relation to the understanding are con- sidered in the Transcendental Analytic." As a summary of the preceding consideration and as a transi- tion to his theory of education and the implications involved in his epistemology, the following table, prepared by Kant himself, is suggestive: Mental powers Higher faculties of knowledge A priori principles Products Knowledge Understanding. . Conformity to law . . . Nature Pleasure and Pain Judgment Conformity to purpose Art Reason Obligation Kant's educational theory is set forth in an abbreviated form in lecture notes Ueber P'ddagogik, which are not always organ- ically related to the epistemological theory set forth in the three Critiques. Believing that man can truly become man only through education, and that he is ultimately only what education makes him, Kant divides the process into two chief aspects: (i) Physical, in which the main emphasis is placed upon the cultivation of the individual, upon the proper nurture of his body (cp. Rousseau), upon discipline (Zucht), training and culture (Bildung) . The idea of education, as a process, depends on the realisation that perfection of human development has not yet been attained. But there are in man the undeveloped germs which, when en- couraged in the proper manner, will grow until man fulfils his destiny. In this process of development man cannot become a true individual except as a member of society, and in attaining the end of education the co-operation of the whole human race Kant 45 is required. Education as a theory must be based upon the prac- tice of many generations. (2) Moral, in ■which the aim is the development of character, through the reahsation of a sense of duty within and a recogni- tion of law without. The purpose of this phase of education is conscientious obedience to a moral law whose universal necessity to human development is clearly realised. Since the ultimate aim of the process of education is the formation of character, and since character involves the two elements of recognised purpose and determined will, it follows that there must be developed in the child the realisation of some method by which he may relate the ideal of his activity and the various steps involved in the physical realisation of that ideal. This process of moral train- ing (Civilisierung) involves the problem of the freedom of the will and the function of restraint, the necessity of a social medium for moral self-expression, and finally the realisation of true liberty only through restraint, of freedom through the law. The process of education as a phase of experience, has two aspects: in the first place, it is to a certain extent mechanical and experimental in character; and, in the second place, it in- volves judgment, and the organisation of experience upon some sure principle of procedure. The negative aspect, then, involves the discipline of the physical ; the positive includes acquisition of information and instruction, the development of discretion and refinement, and the realisation of one's inner moral nature. With regard to the actual method of teaching, Kant makes per- fectly clear the relation that ought to exist between Theory and Practice. " In teaching children we must seek insensibly to unite knowledge with the carrying out of that knowledge into prac- tice." (U. P. 70.) ; and " the best way of cultivating the mental faculties is to do ourselves all that we wish to accomplish. . . . The best way to understand is to do." ([/. P. 75.) Again, in his Announcement of the Arrangement of his Lectures for the Winter Semester 1765-6, Kant further emphasises the functional character of education by saying that the student is " to learn, not thoughts but thinking " ; and in the same article he sums up the whole duty of the teacher as follows : " Since the natural progress of human knowledge is this, that the understanding is first developed by arriving, through experience, at intuitive judg- 46 The Concept of Method ments, and, through these at concepts, that thereupon these con- cepts are recognised in relation to their grounds and results by reason, and finally in a well-arranged whole by means of science, so instruction must go the same way. Hence a teacher is ex- pected to make of his hearer first an intelligent, then a reasonable, and finally a learned man." To sum up the chief implications which Kant's writings have for the problem of method, they may be stated briefly as follows : (i) His analysis of the character and nature of human knowl- edge, though it is carried on rather from the structural point of view, does involve a consideration of the method of knowledge as an essential phase. Knowledge must be related to virtuous action ; Theory and Practice are interrelated phases of experience. (2) Kant emphasises the fundamental creative power of the human mind. Method is a phase of an evolutionary experience. Education is genetic only if it is at the same time teleological. Self-activity is the fundamental method of education, (cp. Froebel.) CHAPTER VI THE IDEA OF DEVELOPMENT When we think of Evolution, and when we use that term to describe a process, we must be very careful that there does not cling to it in our minds some little vestige of that early garment of words with which the idea was clothed in its infancy. When we speak of Evolution, vague ideas, for instance, of design, of survival of the fittest, of nature's carelessness of the single life, etc., may lurk behind our thoughts and quite unconsciously to ourselves prevent us from realising the .full import of the term. There is little danger of speaking as if there were no such power as that of personality, which forces its own way whether we will or not, which breaks the strongest custom as freezing water bursts the hardest iron, which defies mere ordinary con- vention, ignores those subjective barriers of caste which do so much to retard conscious evolution, and which, with the merest clay at all men's feet, and the words in all men's mouths, opens the eyes of all future generations. With institutions this fact is also true, and we find that con- ceptions or conditions only incidental in their origin still survive and come from sheer age to be considered as essential parts of an institution, when in reality they are no more than the acci- dental concomitants of its genesis. So that we are not surprised to find the idea of force still lurking in our conception of the state, the belief ia future reward and punishment still under- lying many theologies, and to find the weeds of tradition choking the educational field. With terms, too, or ideas we find that some of the denotation of the term when first used has, through careless thinking or in- accurate usage, crept into the connotation and has to a certain degree vitiated subsequent thought and has sometimes given a 47 48 The Concept of Method twist to men's investigation, often turning it off from the high- way of thought just at the critical turning of the roads. This curious foiling of humanity just as it is about to discover one of the secrets of nature is illustrated throughout the entire philo- sophical and scientific history of mankind. It is this very mis- conception of ontological significance that in the last century caused the Darwinian interpretation of Evolution to be for so long held in ill-repute by so many truly religious people. These persons had an anthropomorphic conception of what was to be understood by creation or the origin of things, which they had imagined by looking at their own process of mechanical con- struction as they made a table or a book, and then they had mag- nified this power beyond their own imagination, adding thereto the conception of something coming out of nothing. From this magnified activity of human beings they then arrived at the meta- physical impossibility of having created a God whom they made do thus and so. And yet, just because human nature can never go wrong, this conception was a wonderfully grand one and was in some respects a permanently true conception. It is small wonder then that when the conception of Evolution had so grown throughout the ages and had so developed in the quietness of men's minds that when it forced itself to definite ex- pression in the nineteenth century, it should be so misconstrued and charged with all the heresies that put to death Socrates and Christ and philosophers and scientists without number. There is a curious commentary upon the history of man in the fact that those very ideas for which men once were killed and cruci- fied and burned at the stake have in turn in later ages put to death those very ideas that were the executioners of the early martyrs. The most casual examination of our experience or of the order of nature indicates a relation to which we have given the name Causation, and which consists in the necessary relation of two phenomena. The old conception of Causation involved temporal considerations such as the priority of the cause, with its attendant logical fallacy post hoc ergo propter hoc. Subsequent philo- sophical discussion of the subject was thus confused by the inter- pretation of a merely formal element as an essential one. From the point of view of Evolution, there are no specific acts of causation, no fact of creation in time and space: such views The Idea of Development 49 are saturated with the merely mechanical and static conceptions of the universe engendered by an anthropomorphic design. Evolution is another term for " universal " experience — it is Causation in activity. It is the active manifestation in the world of what we mean when we speak of Causation. Causation is a principle, and it can therefore have no reality unless it is re- garded as a function. We cannot get outside it and look upon it with categories of the mind. It is an essential part of the consti- tution of the universe, and we can no more tell why it is or ex- plain how it operates than we can tell why we speak of matter and of mind as existing, or say how they operate (ontologically) upon each other. Causation is the method by which a universe of powers, poten- tialities and promises realises itself. Causation is the potentiality, the dunamis " energising," actualising itself, making reality ; and it would be far better to use the word " cause " in its old restricted logical sense and to carry over this meaning of uni- versal causation into our idea of the process of Evolution, where it properly belongs, and with which, metaphysically, it is synony- mous. Besides, this is a position to which the consistent thinker is ultimately forced, if he accept Evolution even in its baldest state- ment. For, if we say that one thing " causes " another, or that retrospectively one thing is due to another, how does it happen that from one thing comes another of a different kind? It is useless to argue, as has so often been done, that a thing produces an effect like itself. We know that this is not so. The heat is not like fire; the plant is not like seed; the child is not like his parents. Nor again, strictly speaking, does the fire cause the heat ; or the seed, the plant ; or the parents, the child. Fire, plant, ■child are the realisation, the actualisation of fire as fire, of seed as seed, of parents as parents. They are part of the conception of fire, seed, and parent. They are the potentiality of combustible, material, of vegetable cells, and of human beings made manifest^ expressed, realised, evolved. We cannot have fire without in- volving, both in idea and in actuality, heat; nor can we really mean seed without seeing in our mind's eye its full fruition as plant; nor does the relation of parents mean aught save as it is realised in the existence .of children. In this conception of the go The Gene^pl of Method meaning of tertns we are able to bring together Spinoza's way of looking at things sub speeie aeternitatii with the modern func- tional theory of corieept. We hilve here, tooj a suggestion of the nature hi continuity and of the true nature of identity.- For, given the proper environ- mental conditions^ or the proper experiential basis, thdse rela- tions are permanent ! they have in them the power of contihuanee, of reproduction; Even the fire is capable of raising adjacent com- bustible matetial to the point of combustion and of thus prolong- ing its characteristic activity. The seed, when it becomes a plant, has in itself the power of bringing forth twenty or a hundred-fold; and man has not only the power of reproducing himself on the purely physical level, but also of making his thought and his spirit live in other rriinds and spirits, so that great fruitful ideas are sown throughout the ages and never die. From this point of view our schools and libraries are great store- houses of seed, reservoirs of potentiality, which keep the process of spiritual evolution at its highest level. This is where the sig- nificance of institutions in the evolution of the hutaan race is best realised. Again the nature of the thing, its true end, is its developrnent, its evolntioh, its self^feaiis&tion in the highest form to which its potentiality is capable of f caching; and its nature also in- volves the handing On of its power with the germ of greater potentiality dUe to the impetus Which its own relative higher de- veloprnent is Enabled to give the form that succeeds it: This can be seen illustrated in the life of the individual^ parent and child, Ifikchef and pupil ; or in society in the betterment Of Gbnditidns ; 6r in thought in the developiiient of ideals. So that the whole machifl^fy of the Universe is machinery only to the mechariically-mirided man. To the eVolUtioflist it is a vast, an ihfinitely vast, growing living ofgahisth. It is not t)antheisti6, not pahpsychic, both of Which interpret the higher by the lower ; but part-organic, the activity of God, the realisation through iftany Ways and divers forms of what is ultimately Truth and permanently Goodness, or Godness. For there is rio a priori necessity Which compels us to liken the absolute Reality to any liv^ ing creature or to any force in naturej hor is thei?fe any moral compulsion that fofcfes tis to say that He is in his riianifgstatiens The idea of DeHdopftieM 5 1 a perf feet Bglhg. That would be to close the circle and system and to leave ho plac€ fot evolution, rio tooftl fof cdiisatiott, rid scope for Will. In so far as it deals with the facts df nature; Evolutidtl must be included uilder what are riatiirftl laws, thdttgh froiii the broad- est point of view all laW^ are riaturil laWs. The " supernatural " is merely descfiptife of ridttire that has not yet been drgan- ised according to the fdrriis df huttian iftt-feUigerice. But the terrti is essehtially relative, and involves a wider glance at the facts of nature than nien can compass. The supernatural is but the hatural writ tod large for ttieri to take in its significance at a glance. In the flarrower sense, however, the term Evolution refers to thdse distinct uriiformities and necessities df ofgariic activity which can be realised by the mind and spirit of Mail. If it is to be a law of Nature, Evolution must be universally valid as the description of a general process of development. In other words it rtiust riot only accord with all the facts of the phenomena and be cdntrary to ridne, but it must also be subjec- tively valid, in the sense of being intelligible and rational to the mind of men. It ddes riot follow that every fact in nature will immediately be seen and thought of in evolutionary terms, but it does involve a certairi breadth of observation and df experi- riient with the result that no negative instance caft be discdvered. The various coffteeptions df fevdlution that haVe up td this time beefi wdrked dtit in extensive detail have ift one respect or an- other proved unsatisfactory either because the scope of observa- tion has not beett sufficiently wide, or because some persohal bias has entered Iri as a disttlrbirig factor. Vet this individual element that ihi|>airs the validity and renders uncertain the final form of particular interpretations of Evolution in no way alters the fundamental character df the principle itself. Our attitude to the world does not affect its constitution except from the point of view of intellectual reorganisation and voluntary reaction to situations. The Copernican revolution in astronomy furnished the basis for a generalisation regarding philosophical attitude which men have been rather slow to make. The fact that Evolu- tion in its broadest conception is a constitutive principle of our thdught bears a close relation to the scientific postulate of the objective uniformity of nature, and brings it intd relation with 52 The Concept of Method the principle of Causation. The old method of science had for its goal the collection and classification of an infinite number of particular phenomena per enumerationem simplicem, their sub- sumption under more or less general concepts, and the consequent deduction of the validity of particulars. Such activity has its value as a necessary step in scientific procedure, but it is neither the beginning nor the end of scientific or philosophical investiga- tion. The modern philosophy of science goes farther, and at- tempts to relate these various classifications of concepts in a sys- tem of laws based upon the general principle of Causation, which is regarded as a necessary condition of existence and a criterion of the possibility of human experience. Hitherto the conception of Causation has been worked out with greatest definiteness and with mathematical accuracy in the mechanical sciences, but it is no less a fundamental principle in Biology, Psychology, Soci- ology, Education, and Ethics, though in each of these the par- ticular form in which the principle manifests itself varies. This much may be postulated without involving the mechanism of a fatalistic interpretation of experience, nor limiting the definite sphere within which the alternatives of human choice must lie, while at the same time preserving that freedom of the social per- sonality which Idealism demands. Evolution from one point of view receives philosophical justification in that it is one mani- festation of causality, and is therefore a necessary condition of experience. It scarcely admits of exact expression as a mathe- matical formula because, though the antecedent and consequent conditions can perhaps be represented quantitatively with more or less adequacy, it is impossible to express their actual relation and at the same time include all the conditions of variation in the equation. Since, therefore, Evolution has a philosophical basis and justi- fication as a condition of the possibility of experience, its signifi- cance as a subjective regulative principle has an obvious im- portance for education. The principle is brought still more into relation with the general aim of our philosophy when we regard it as a method of bringing inherent order out of apparent chaos, for that is what philosophers in every age have been trying to accomplish from time immemorial, searching in a veritable in- tellectual Slough of Despond for a unity in diversity, the one in the many, or the universal in a bewildering muddle of particulars.. The Idea of Development 53 The contribution to the problem of Philosophy which is made by Evolution results in a readjustment of the point of view, by making the relation of subject and object organic as well as logical. It thus gives life to Epistemology and epistemological significance to life. It also takes the ground from under the feet of the materialist and helps to establish the idealist's position, for the materialist can never describe his matter in terms that do not necessarily imply mind, or which do not result in the belief in an actual dualism in Nature, without explaining how two such disparate elements as the materialistic position presupposes could ever have come into relation. Because our experience is physical our world cannot be dualistic. The thing known and the method of knowledge may be different, but the experience qua experience is unitary. Evolution is, therefore, not only not opposed to a Theory of Knowledge but it adds to it a new element of great epistemo- logical significance, for instead of making knowledge a more or less stable concrete acquisition and emphasising its terminal as- pects as " knower " and " known," Evolution lays stress on the functional aspect of Knowledge as an activity. It no longer tries, as before, to reconcile static elements of objective experience with the recognised dynamic character of the mental process which is taking place in the mind. Neither is static, and when the epistemological significance of Evolution is realised, the possi- bility of an absolutely dualistic conception of the process of knowledge is reduced to a minimum and is regarded only as a convenient relative logical distinction, in which the elements exist only when, and for as long as, the logical opposition is con- sciously made. This must not be taken to mean that there is no need for em- phasising the terminal aspects of the process of Evolution, for it is obvious enough that the distinction between the individual and his environment, or between the agent and his situation, corresponds to the logical opposition of self and not-self or sub- ject and object. But in looking at it from the evolutionary point of view, it is not the opposition that is emphasised, but the mutual interdependence and the logical and organic unity of the elements in the one process. Philosophies have at various times laid stress upon one or the other of these two, and the character of their 54 The CQwep pj Method Theory of JCoowJedgP h»s (i'epiep(i(?4 WPOP whiph pf the eleflients has been considered to be active and which pagsjve, Thf orient^} type of mind e?:alted the activity of the notxself, the object, the environment ; the occideptal has emphasised ^nd still emphasises the activity of the self, the subject, the individua}: a view which found its completest expre;ssipn in the synthetic unity of apper- peption which lies at the basis of the Kantian philosophy. EvGt lutipn seems to afford EpigtgRiplpgy the necessary two elements which logical analysis has sp ^videly separated; ajid this fupda=- jngntal relatjen between these two mutually necessary factors is further strengthenfd when considered from the point of view of Jdealism, It is an important argument in favor of the validity of the evolutionary theory that it not only falls in so well with the gen-- eral trend of epistemolfigieal inquiry, but that it adds to it much more fundamental signifieanee from the theoretical point of view, as well as at the same time broadening its relations on the practical side. One thing more must be borne in mind : from the philosophical standpoint. Evolution cannot be interpreted otherwise than teleologieally. Evolution is teleology made manifest in the cosmic process. It is because some thinkers fail to take this view of evolution that they fail to justify the ways of God to man and beast. In every sense of the term, it is a narrow interpretation of teleology which confines itself to those series of phenomena which we interpret anthropomorphically as " the struggle for existence," or which goes farther only to find no God because it imagines that it can find no freedom. If is the old fall^-cy of jumping at conclusions in the dark, and the old desire to draw the whole curve somehow, even though its outline be drawn half false, pr dr^wn before its direction and sweep ^re fully realised in part. It is here mp,intained, on the contrary, that Evolution cannot be conceived without teleology, fpr Evolution is considered as a rational process of posniieal organisation. Teleolpgy gives in human terms the interpretation pf this prpcess, and it therefpr^ cpmplements the epntributipn made by science to human knowl- edge and belief, by placing^ these scientific facts in their necessary causal relations tP pne another, and by showing their organic The Idea of Development 55 relationship as parts of ia rational scheme of development, as parts in the operation of Law. There follows naturally from this position the conception of teleology as immanent in the universe. The world is regarded as the realisation of a creative Intelligence. From this point of view of personal idealism, the world exists for us in so far as we realise in it, and through it, the rational and beneficent Intel- ligence or Spirituality which j>ervades it and is its essence, with- out which there would be nothing to be perceived, no objects to be realised, and no one to realise them. From the complementary point of view, the universe must be regarded from the stand- point of divine Idealisni — sub specie aeternitatis, as Spinoza woyid say ; and this involves a belief in what may be called, for want of more explicit terms^ a sert of spiritually universal Theism, pervading and making real all things in heaven and earth. This does not imply an objective anthropomorphism, nor dees it confine the nature of the Creator within the limits of created things. It is what yve mean when we speak of the world as a realisation of creative Intelligence in the widest senserTrrit is the eoneeivable absolute view of Nature which finds a partial reflection or interpretation in the idealistic reconstruction of the human intelligence, " and perfection, no more and no less, in the kind I imagined, fullT-fronts me, and God is seen God in the star, in the stone, in the flesh, in the soul and the elod." From this wider point of view there can be no contradictions in Nature and no antagonisms that do not ultimately resolve themselves into illusions of the human standpoint-rrdivine ideas that in the cavern of the mind seem dark and distorted. Human thought is possible only through contrasts, and positive advance- takes place only through negation-; opposites become, through the ©peratiop of tlie mind, reconciled in a higher unity which for the moment appears to be ultimate, but it is subsequently realised to be but a part of a unity of greater e^gtension ; and so the process continues and can Mid only with the ultimate realisation of the knowledge of good and evil. The very fact of relativity involves negation in the reconciliation of the elements involved, but negav tion for the sake of unity. Here we find the philosophical justiT fieation for the Greek view that Knowledge involves Vipt-ue. In fact, problems of Epistemology and of Ethics i\xse. when theiiF ideal becomes an amor intellectualis Dei. CHAPTER VII THE INTERPRETATION OF EXPERIENCE I. Experience The most naive and unphilosophical of persons makes certain distinctions in experience, whether he gives names to them or not. He knows ithat when he is feeling satisfied or sad he is hav- ing an experience that is different in some way or an- other from that which occupies his attention when he is think- ing how to solve some question that puzzles him ; and he knows that to imagine what might happen in certain circumstances is quite different from wishing that he had acted otherwise than he did yesterday. The average individual habitually makes these distinctions and is apt to regard thinking and feeling and wish- ing and imagining, quite as distinct from one another as tea and sugar and bread and butter are, all the former being kinds of experience much in the same way that all the latter are kinds of food. Yet neither genetically nor ultimately is this analysis of ex- perience into hard and fast and sharply separated kinds justified. James has reminded us — and our own memories corroborate him — that the child's experience is a blooming buzzing confusion, in which there is such a wealth of material, such a profusion of possibilities of new and intensely interesting experiences that even the great and blatant distinction between one's self and the things about one is not made. This closeness to nature, this unification with the things of experience is one of the first of those beauties of the innocence of childhood to succumb to the dangers of a little knowledge. It is only as one passes through the stage of the sharp distinction between the self and the world, and con- scientiously thinks away this dualism that seems a necessary S6 The Interpretation of Experience 57 part of our intellectual development, that he becomes again like a little child, at one with the world. No longer self-conscious in the adolescent discovery of the sharp contrasts in experience and yet self-unconscious as the child who has not yet discovered himself, and has not defined his distinctions, the individual in this third and highest stage again finds in his experience a unity, having transcended the seeming distinctions between self and the world. Having become self-forgetful, he loses himself in experience only to find that he and his experience are part of the same thing. What he is, is experience in some form or other, and his experience is surely some part of him. He cannot help being part of all he has met. Were he otherwise, he would be nothing. The distinctions to be made in experience, then, are not cross- section divisions into faculties, or even into ultimately distinguish- able activities such as thought, and feeling and will, but they are to be considered rather from the genetic point of view and to be regarded as necessary stages in the development from juvenile and naive self-unconsciousness, through a period of intellectual and moral tension in which distinctions and oppositions are para- mount, self against the world, good against evil, desire against conscience, to a third period of conviction and character in which the nature of one's experience, like one's body, becomes unified, fixed and stable in form and function. In the process of individual development these three stages discerned by philosophical analysis are not sharply distinguished either by their content or by the particular time at which they predominate. The reason is that we cannot say that all persons who think thus and so are in the unconscious stage, or in the self- conscious stage, or in the last and highest stage of unity with self. For, in the first place, the same stinjulus to experience may cause in individuals reactions that have nothing in common in the nature of their content, so that in the same rock the savage may worship a fetich, the explorer may see a convenient shelter against the inclemency of the weather, and the geologist, a long sought specimen adding one lost link in the chain of proof of a scientific hypothesis. And again, in the second place, the same state of mind or the same experience may be caused by very different stimuli, and may be seen by considering the variety of means adopted in the different religions of the world to attain S3 The Concept »f M^ihoi thftt state of spirit which we ordinaFily designate by the term " worship." The actual eharaeter of the eontent of experienee has, within certain limits, little mfithodological significanee. Nor can we say that this threefold sequence of stages corresponds to that of infancy, youth, and maturity, since savages never get beyond the first stage and a very large number of civilised and mature individuals are content to rest in the second. Since, therefore, this threefold character of the experience of any individual cannot be explained by an examination of the par- ticular content of this or that mind, nor by the widely varying ex- periences of many persons, and since it cannot be regarded as the necessary concomitant of advancing years, this triune char- acter of experience must be regarded as inherent in the process of experience itself. That is, the three stages of self-unconscious- ness, self-consciousness, and self-realisation are modes of experi- ence according to which each individual lives until each stage is so developed in that individual that he unconsciously grows into the next. There is no inherent necessity that an individual should actually grow from the earliest to the latest stage, nor is there anything in the nature of each stage to determine what the character of the experience to which it refers shall be. The only necessity that there is must be found, in the first place, in the continuity of the process, which determines that, if an individual develop his experience or his experience develop him, the de- velopment must proceed from splf-unconsciousness, throvigh self- consciousness to self-realisation, and in no other order. In the second place, there is the necessity involved by the unity of the process of experience which determines that the development shall be that of one individual, and that here, at least, there can be no element of vicariousness. If the experience of a person is to be an organic unity, that individual caijnot appropriate at the level of self-consciousness the thoughts and beliefs and in- terpretations of experience set forth by a man v^ho has reached the third stage whprein diyerse elements are divesjie^ of their opposition and are seen as the aspects of an ultimate ynjty, Tq appropriate iii thjs way the results of another's gxpej-jgnce with- PHt first haying made then] aptual factors in his pwij is \iM% fo ad4 to the numljer of disparate jiijrjjnifipd partigijlaFs that naust be related before t.he thifd stage pan be reaphec}, The Interpretation of Experience 59 Qjie must, hovyevpr, be on one's guard against supposing that tl^re if any har4 and f^st dividing lifijE between self-uricorjsciousT ness and self-consciousness, or between the latter and the last stage. They are all phases of the experience of one individual yljP is a living being, and therefore j;hg stages carjfipt be separated one from anotljer and marked pff in sequeiicg like the vertebrae in a skeleton. They are np mpre distinctly marked off from one another in iJip whole process of the d&vplpprnept of experience than are feel- ing ^nd thought and volition distinctly arid vividly marked ofiE from one anotjier in any particular experience that we fnay choose tp analyse. Further, it must be borne in mind that, far from being clearly defined, thpse stagps mix and mingle with one another, overlap, and leave ragged edggs ; so that it frequently happens that one aspect of a man's experience will leap far ahead of others and reach perhaps the third stage, while some other unconsidered aspect of his experience remains far behind, atrophied at the first stage. Thws it happens that there is often such a wide discrep- ancy between an individual's thought and action in commercial affairs, in social fel.atipn«hip.s, and in religious belief. What is true of thp individual ean also be seen writ large in the life of soeiety, where institutions attain different levels of development, are actuated by different ideals and standards, and are characterr i.sed by greater or less unity in themselves and cooperation with Qfhgrs. It is diigpult for one who has been trained in the average col- lege classroom philosophy to look upon what he has come to regard as the putsjde world except through coloured spectacles of sonie special theory of knowledge. These spectacles continue tp be worn either because the weargr constitutionally prefers the world to appear golden or blue, or because some master of his thought wears them and the imitation has become habitual. It is also difficult for the average perspn, yvho never bothers his hfijid about questions gis to bpw we get to kfjpw anything or as to hosy the self liifffirs from those tMpgs thgt gre not itself, to think sgrJGUsly of what after ftU his everyday experience is made up. gfith of tjies^ types pf ggpple, pne finds, wh.en thjey talk about ejjperifjipe jfnply by their words some sort pf dualism^mplicit 6o The Concept of Method perhaps unconsciously in the student of philosophy, but accepted as quite obvious and necessary by the so-called common sense man. Let us take first of all this latter outlook upon the world, be- cause it is one that appeals to the great majority of people in their everyday life, and because it has formed a kind of starting-point for many philosophers who have sought to do away with the separation, so blatant and obvious, between the man who thinks and works, and the things he thinks about or works with. Then we shall be in a better position to consider the manner in which the philosopher has attacked the problem and to see that, after all, he has in many cases only refined it, or at best cleared away certain difficulties and has gone a few steps toward the result, but has still left the dualism existent in some part of his experi- ence, for Dualism is the Hydra of philosophy. The average person of common sense, who is not deaf or blind, looks upon the world as something solid and enduring, shot through with varying colours and full of sound, and cap- able of more or less permanent modification by creatures like himself: this he knows for he has daily and hourly proof of it. The paper upon which he writes was white but is through his agency rapidly becoming scrawled over with irregular black marks; the sunlight striking through the window creeps across the floor ; the horses passing in the street resound upon the hard pavement, giving one a comfortable sense of solidity and of permanence; and so on, from breakfast to bedtime, the world is there, in some way stable and enduring in spite of the changing seasons and the vicissitudes of men. It is through this sense of the existence of the world as he knows it that the average man is led unconsciously into the mazes of Dualism. He exists because he thinks and feels and acts; the street- exists because he sees it, hears its noises, and if need be he can go out and walk upon the pavement or test the con- sistency of its surface ; and yonder hill exists because he sees it, and knows that he has but to go and walk thither for his feet to feel its upward slope. But the other side — does it exist? What ground has the common-sense man for affirming its exist- ence ? Have we here a subtle form of Bacon's per enumerafionem iimplicem? An absurd question, thinks he: a hill must have an- The Interpretation of Experience 6i other side. But let us suppose that the hill-top that we see yon- der be regarded with childish naivete as the end — that there is just jagged skyline and no more. Logically that is quite con- ceivable; and our actual experience in this case has told us noth- ing that will contradict this supposition. To that, however, he will not agree. Every hill he has yet climbed has been some- thing more substantial than stage property, kept standing by a flimsy framework of cheap wood. And so he climbs this hill and, it may be, finds that he was right — that there is another side, and having thus by an unconscious logical fallacy vindi- cated his pragmatic attitude, he unconsciously confirms himself in his dualism. But suppose, through a variation in the course of nature that proves a happy chance for the sake of argument, that the other side of the hill does not slope downward at the expected or ac- customed angle, but leads onward to a level plateau, as sometimes happens. Does that alter the common-sense attitude toward the hill? Can Pizarro be sure that there will be a Pacific Ocean be- yond the hills ? This discovery that the other side of the hill is not a side after all involves some modification in our attitude to hills. It involves some reconstruction in our concept. We are no longer entitled to say that the hill has another side, but, in view of the fact that it may either slope downward, or continue on a level, or slope upward to higher hills hidden from our sight, we must confine our statement to saying that there is " some- thing " ibeyond. What that may be, what its quality or kind is we know not; all we know is that it exists; and if we wish to know more about it than the mere fact of its existence, we must either go and find out ourselves, or else discover its char- acter from some one who has been there and seen for himself. Bearing in mind, then, this fact of existence, let us see whether it holds true in other instances. The region beyond the hill exists, and its existence is easy of proof; something beyond the sea existed for Columbus, but colour, shape, and content could only be imperfectly imagined throug'h analogy before the first Spaniard set foot upon the shore. It was only then that this unknown something became defined, had life breathed into it, and took on colour and character. To go farther afield, and to take an instance where our physical limitations prevent us from adding this varied content to the hollow form of existence, let 62 The Concept of Method us take the case of the other side of the mooiij which no one hSs ever seen. As in the case of the other side of the hill befdffe the common-sense man had stobd on its crest atid seeti vyhat Idy beyond him; as in the ease of the tindiseovei-ed AttiericEl Ivhile the Santa Matia was still out of sight of land,-^so her6 in the case of the moon, who throughout the centuries hais never turned her back upon the eafth; we have the simplest instance of sottit- thing of which we can think, and yet of which we can say ftoth- ing else than that it exists, unless we go beyond our immediate experience and take thitlgs oii faith, and that is an attitude of which the common-setlse man will have none. Yet — and here comes the crux of the questiort^^^dt*/ inueh. reality had it fat us? Is the mere fact of existence sufficient to make it a real part of our experience and of our activity ? What must things possess besides mere existence to be of value in human life and in the development of the individual's experi- ence? It follows from this that there must be thtee levels df existence, which may be characterised as follows: (i) Mere Existence Here we have the simplest form of reality in relation to human experience. Existence is a category of the possibility of experi- ence. It is a significant Form of reality in which the rtiind or emotions of man rriUst discover the hitherto insignificant conteflt. Reality cannot be conceived of as otherwise than existing eithet in a worid of matter or in a world of ideas. To say that a thiiig is non-existent is to destroy its reality and render it meaningless except as the negation of a logical concept. Existence therefore means reality for some consciousness; arid in practical experi- ence the mind never rests cofaterit with this colourfess ifleffe^ttial form of reality, but continually strives through its activity to pass onward to the next higher stage. Existence involves some sort of material vXrj) as the basis of human, experience. This level necessarily leads to the higher levels of reality. (2) Potetitiality The mind soG>h discovers that if various phases of reality afe to form either a stimulus or a basis for its aetivity, they inUst possess other qualities besides that of fnere ekistettcg.- Th§ fact of existence, being a necessary cohditiori of dll that cotnis within The Inierpretattdn of Experience 63 human experience, is taken for granted and is not consgidusly realised through a process of logical analysis. Everywhere evfery- thing seems to possess special qualities or characteristics which diflferentiate it from everything else. The animals and flowers are named, classes are formed, thoughts are organised into ideas. This is a stage of diflferentiation, a process of individualisation. Instead of the mere dead level of existence, in the experience of each individual certain parts seem to rise to actuality, certain spots seem to become foci of meanings centres of potentiality or power. When represented in the theory of the concept and the definition, this idea of potentiality involves the use of language or symbols which express the idea in terms of activity, and therefore as a basis for its complete realisation or actualisation as indicated in the third stage. This conception is the functional interpretation of the concept. The qualities which in this process of experience the mind discovers in nature are in reality modes of existence, categories of experience, which the mind seeks to organise liritd some sort of a working system for its own use. Science is based Upoh the systeriiatisation of the potentialities of matter, and it expresses its definitions in the form of equa- tions aiid principles. This conception of particular human ex- perience as conditioned by the qualities of things as modes of existence is akiri to Spinoza's idea of natura naturata. It is also based upon Aristotle's conception of Awa/iis. (3) Activity In this stage we have, so t© spealf, the fruition of the stage of Potentiality. Here we have Function in operation; ivipyeia in the process of aetualising the Swd/^w latent in varying degree in the vXr;; Here the divine energy is not passive but active, and manifests itself as natura naturans. It involves literally speaking; the realisation of God, that is^ the ihanifesta- tion of his activity as an energy which first of all Underlies all things and gives them existence; and secondly dififerentiates it- self into a manifold of particular potentialities capable of func- tioning in harmony ; aiid finally the actualisation of these existent potentialities in a universe of mutilstlly interacting partial mani- festations of divine energy, all striving towards a complete*- self- realisation. 64 The Concept of Method What goes on in the macrocosm of the universe is paralleled in the process of development of: (a) The Individual First, there is the passive stage of mere existence, in which the child, scarcely yet an individual, is played upon by the active forces in his environment. Then, in the second place, he begins to realise his powers and potentialities and certain more or less obvious qualities and potentialities in the objects he is grow- ing to know. Finally, he realises that there is some connection between himself and things, and that these objective powers and his own personal capacities can be made to work together, and through a process of interaction to develop one another to a level that otherwise could not be attained through isolated activity. (b) Society In the first stage there is an undifferentiated level of mere existence, when social functions are not apparent or are present only in embryonic form. In the second place, there is differen- tiation of function and the growing consciousness of certain fun- damental types of activity or potentialities of corporate experi- ence. In the third stage these potentialities are raised to the level of an idea and have a twofold function: (i) they give social form and control to individual experience; (2) they give wider content to the narrower individual course of development. Hence, in this third stage, we have the individual's activity and the social idea in synthesis through functional interaction. The prevalent tendency on the part of teachers to be imposed upon by the external factors in experience amounts almost to a fallacy of the material, and leads us to ask ourselves, in a re- actionary mood, "What do we do when we think?" It is a question that teachers need to ask themselves, and the more one considers its possible answer the more convinced does one be- come not only of the practical necessity of such an interrogation of experience, but also of its numerous and fundamental implica- tions in any philosophical education. There are perhaps two great reasons why we should consider the problem that is sug- gested by the question, "-What do we do when we think?" In the first place, we are apt to over-emphasise the significance and The Interpretation of Experience 65 finality of environment as a something or a system existing apart from us and operating on a fundamentally different basis. There is a tendency on the part of the average human being, owing largely to the maimer in which the sense of sight domi- nates his thought, to regard the persons and things he sees as, in a sense, walking into his mind or swimming into his ken in quite a material way and with apparently no volition on his part. The man to whom the colour and form of the world make merely perceptual appeal and who has no thoughtful under-current to his experience, is forgetful of that selective contol which interest and the whole background of his previous experience uncon- sciously exert upon the activity of even the sense at every moment of his life. In order to counteract the dualism implied in this common attitude to environment and the prevalent conception of environment as a unity in itself, there is no surer discipline than that of an earnest and sincere effort to discover what we do when we think. In other words, what we have to do is try to realise just how the sights and sound and things that make up the mobile environment of each day's experience act upon us and we upon them : how, indeed, they are actually part of our think- ing and feeling, and are not so many sights and sounds passing by us, as it were, in a more or less orderly and not always inter- esting procession to which we .stand as onlookers. From the point of view of the child who is being educated this attitude of ours to the world of experience has its very significant implica- tion for both theory and practice. These will be considered in greater detail later, but it will be realised even from the outset that from one point of view the child and his environment are to be regarded as two separate entities and that various aspects of a classified environment are to be gotten into his mind by a process of formal instruction — ^that the form is given by the teacher to the material and that the process of education consists in the assimilation of this already organised system of inter- pretation of the world. From the other point of view and the one that is here advocated, the child's activity is made the motive force in education ; the world is regarded as a universe of possi- bilities out of which in the process of human and social develop- ment certain phases have been selected as the most valuable types of activity; and the process of education is the development of 66 The Concept of Method the individual child's personality through the method of gradually- giving form to it in accordance with these fundamental types of social experience, in such a way as to make, the child a free personality, and at the same time an active and responsible mem- ber of the social whole. There is then this more or less external or objective attitude to the world of experience implied in the former method of considering the question as to what we do when we think ; but there is also a corresponding subjective side, which is equally fundamental in its implications for educational thought. The fact that we ask the questions at all really suggests this new point of view. Hitherto psychology and educational method have contented themselves chiefly with the analysis of the ob- jects of thought and the materials of instruction, or with the mental processes themselves. As a result of this activity we have been given a classification of the subject-maitter of the various elements that constitute the program of the course of study, and a description of the various functions of the mind, such as perception, memory, association, etc. In other words, the attempt has been made to describe our environment and our minds from two different points of view, one objective and one subjective, and there has been this dualism more or less apparent in educational method as a direct result. This is partly due to a failure to work out the psychology of the various educational materials; and partly to the character of the psychological method employed by the investigators, who collect and arrange facts without having fully become conscious of the standards which underlie their selection, and without being conscious of the philosophical implications which underlie all definite formula- tions of phases of experience and which alone can give them practical value. What then do we do when we think? Does or does not the question involve more than a mere analysis of mind and material, ■ — of the individual and his environment? Can it be answered by considering both elements as interacting factors in a process of development? The most satisfactory way of answering the question is actu- ally to put it to the test: to take our own experience and see whether it will not yield its secret when we ask the question in the right way. For we currently speak of the world as being full of secrets. The scientist is said to be engaged in discover- The Interpretation of Experience 67 ing what we call the secrets of nature ; the physician is daily face to face with the mysteries of the human body, and yet the teacher, who is not dealing with mere stocks and stones, nor yet with the physical body, but with the intangible intellectual and spiritual nature of the child, is so seldom conscious of the fact that he is face to face with a greater mystery than those of either scientist or the physician — with the mystery of human personality — which is one that will yield itself only to the same patient, conscientious, and devoted self-sacrifice that is cheer- fully given to the discovery of the secrets of the inorganic and the organic realm,s of nature. If, then, we take our experience as it is, here and now, we find that it includes far more than appears on the surface — more than actual paper and pen and thoughts that constitute the super- ficial activity of the present moment. There is, as it were, a psychic background, a margin of consciousness, that is crowded with a moving throng of ideas and feelings, some of them past experiences, others anticipations, hopes, beliefs, attitudes to fu- ture experiences ; yet all, past, present, and future, are part of my thinking and feeling, are part of me, of my experience, and all take part in the conscious or unconscious modification and regulation of the particular activity of the moment. There is then a twofold unity in my experience : there is on the one hand this more or less external unity of activity in which all that I do, express, or actually control and take part in, is the deed and the expression of my own individual activity ; and there is on the other hand that inner psychic intellectual or spiritual unity of thought which is but another aspect of the same unitary experience. Space and Time are two concepts whose regulative control of our activities has been somewhat misrepresented since the time of Kant, owing to a proper idealistic interpretation of them as forms of experience. Space and Time are not to be regarded as self-existent entities apart from human experience but rather as regulative phases of the thought-process, and of the method of our experience. The failure to regard them as merely regu- lative and not constitutive of experience has been to some extent responsible for the conception of our mental life as consisting of the actual perceptual content (Space) of the mind at a given moment (Time) and not as a psychic continuum stretching back 68 The Concept of Method into the past and forward into the future, integrating the past in the present experience, and shaping future aims and actions upon that basis. And yet in my experience, anterior and pos- terior elements are involved. Thought is no more actually con- cerned with mere perception as a material for its activity than it is with memory which brings past experience up to date, and with imagination which deals with possible experience in the future. The comparatively unrelated elements in our present ex- perience have little educational value: they must be organised into the experience of some particular personality. One of the characteristics of our minds is this organising psychic activity which binds together past, present, and future into one expression of a threefold temporal unity — three times in one time. And this same is true of Space: for the activity of the imagination in thought brings together in one unitary experience the uttermost parts of the earth with at the same time the realisation that one is sitting in a chair here and now. To sum up, then, there is this threefold aspect of experience, past, present and future, which finds its psychic coordinate in memory, perception, and imagination, which are in turn but con- sciously analysed aspects of one unitary process of thought. One of the things, therefore, that we do when we think is the sub- sumption or organisation of the diversity of phenomenal percep- tion under the unity of thought through the activity manifested by a living personality in his experience. There are several implications of the organising activity of thinking that require consideration: (i) There must be some community between the mind that thinks and the object thought about — i. e. some correspondence between the course of nature and the mind of man. Disparate elements, unhomogeneous particulars, cannot be organically re- lated in the unity of conception. There must be a certain mutual adaptation between the mind that thinks and that material about which it thinks. A thought can have no human signification apart from the thinking process. (2) Hence, the distinction between the subjective and objec- tive is never made in the actual process of thinking. It is a psychological impossibility to place the thought as a reality self- existent outside the mind. Thought is thinking, and is a form of experience; and part of our experience is thought. Exter- The Interpretation of Experience 69 nality, objectivity are not qualities of thought, but of its mani- festation in a material world. The distinction between subject and object may be made retrospectively or prospectively, but never in actual present experience of materials, for this experi- ence implies by its very nature the unity of the subject and object. (3) All thought has an undertone of emotion, ranging from feeling so faint as to be an unconscious accompaniment of the mental activity (e. g. in doing a mathematical example) up to emotion so intense that it interferes with, colours, or directs and controls the intellectual part of the activity-experience. Thought is therefore accompanied by a varying degree of self-conscious- ness. (4) Th€re is involved in all thought, either consciously or leading to later awareness of it, some element of purpose or aim or end. The variously interrelated system of purposes which makes up our experience depends for its variations in detail upon accident, conscious aims, and ends unconsciously involved and only later coming to consciousness. II. Standard No matter at what point we take up questions of educational theory and practice we find involved either directly or indirectly the idea of standard. " Standards of education " is a favourite topic for professional discussion; pupils and students are re- quired to attain a certain " standard " before they are promoted through the grades or admitted to college; and certain text- books in each subject are qualified as " standard." The varia- tion in the popular use of the term and the differences of mean- ing attached to it in educational discussion involve a somewhat careful consideration of the meaning of the word " standard " and of its implications for a philosophy of education. In considering the problem of the standard, we have to resolve it into its component parts to discover the questions that are implied in the general term. Such a treatment necessarily in- volves aspects that are essentially ethical in their character and some that are epistemological ; but such phases are naturally implied in the general process of experience, and especially when this process is regarded from the point of view of the method of education. Some of the questions that suggest themselves are yo The Concept of Method the following: (i) Is the need of a standard instinctive? Is it a category of the possibility of progressive activity? (2) Does the realisation of the idea or concept of standard grow up as a distinction within experience, or is it imported from outside, and imposed by maturer persons or by society? (3) Is the standard a material thing, — a form? or is it a spiritual idea by means of which one interprets the material? (4) Is the problem to be re- garded from the functional point of view as a process of stand- ardising the experience of the individual? (5) Are judgments of value one aspect, conscious or unconscious, of every phase of experience, or are they a special phase of the operation of the mind ? The solution of these questions will be implied in the considera- tion which follows, rather than explicitly stated. They are problems which rise to consciousness when the function of stand- ard is first consciously realised as part of the method of educa- tion. The character of the solution offered has varied alike with the time and the prevailing temper of the age in which the prob- lem has suggested itself. At the present day in America, where the method of education is one of the loci critici of both Sociology and Philosophy, an analysis of the elements involved seems to be required, especially since tot homines tot sententiae still remains true of education. Standards concern themselves with three aspects of our ex- perience : (i) They deal in the first place with the problem of what we do. Certain things are to be done ; others are not to be done. The sphere of activity, moral or educational is more or less defi- nitely marked off and bounded; a list of habitual acts and of conventional activities is prescribed ; penalties of varying de- grees are attached to faults of omission or of direct violation. There are unwritten laws, codes of laws which an older psychol- ogy would see graven on the tablets of the mind ; there are vague popular ideas of better and worse, higher and lower, right and wrong; there are group standards and the consciousness of cer- tain "things no fellow can do"; and there is a constantly fluctuating process of adjustment between material and ideal in- terests. Such problems come within the scope of Ethics, So- ciology, and Education. The Interpretation of Experience 71 (2) There is in the second place the question as to why we perform an action. From this point of view there is involved the consideration of motive, impulse, ha1>it, and the adjust- ment of ideas for and against a certain course of action or the formation of a particular habit. Such a series of problems comes partly within the sphere of Ethics and partly within that of Metaphysics. (3) Lastly there is the problem of how we do anything. Be- yond the fact of the action, there is the question of its method. It is not always enough to do a thing: it must be done in a cer- tain way. There are questions of technique, of the selection of one standard method from various possible activities, of the subordination of means, of the formation of habits of skill, ac- curacy, precision, rapidity, of the function of facility, beauty, and truth in the doing of anything, and the development of power and control. Such are some of the problems which belong to the sphere ai Methodology. It makes no difference at what point we take our experience: we will always find some aspect of it that presents itself in the form of a problem to be solved. Were this not so, our whole existence would be passed upon the level of the mere instinctive performance of certain physical actions and in the habitual repe- tition of a limited number of comparatively simple psychological states. There would be no necessity for thought in the daily round and in the common task. To-day would repeat yesterday with no appreciable alteration. To-morrow would require no thought, for it would be but the replica of to-day. Thus the dull monotony of existence would run its course. But that is not the character of our daily lives. We have but to stop to analyse any of the thousand and one situations in which we find ourselves between sunrise and sunset to realise that our doings are not all regulated and decided beforehand; that we cannot predict with certainty that such and such a situation will prove to be of such and such a character and have a result which we can accurately prophesy. Every hour of the day has its un- known factors of experience, upon which we cannot depend, and which will modify our actions in ways which cannot be foreseen. Just as on a large scale the decisive situations in our lives cannot be seen afar ofiE like tiny clouds on the horizon, so in a more 72 The Concept of Method limited scene, we cannot say what the hour will bring forth, nor say with assurance that we shall actually do thus and so because thus and so are what we would like to do or think we ought to do. There is always some unknown phase of the general situa- tion, some aspect of the environment that we have overlooked or have been unable to calculate — some factor that is not a constant but a ifunction. What then is the individual to do in the face of such uncer- tainty ? Is he to be absolutely without guidance ? Are there no rules to help him to meet the difficulty and solve the problem? That is the first thought that enters one's head. Here is a problem in arithmetic which can be solved by remembering a certain formula or rule. Here is a problem that arises in actual teaching in my classroom; I want something that will solve the problem. What is more natural than that I should seek some rule that will give me the key to the situation with the same ease with which the formula gave me the answer to the mathematical difficulty. Let us see, however, whether, like the old woman in the fairy- tale, we are not in our unthinking haste wishing something we shall later have to wish undone. What would such a method of getting answers to our problems involve? Would it not mean that each situation would have its rule? I symbolically represent the first twenty-six of to-day's experiences by the letters of the alphabet, and find that of these A, B, D, F, G, H, I, etc., repre- sent experiences in which there is some element of problematic uncertainty. Suppose that I believe the best method of solving such problems is by rule. What is the result? Will I not have to know the rules for solving situations A, B, D, F, G, H, I, etc. ? But how am I to know that I have really situation A or D or H ? Will not that involve a multiplicity of minute rules which, simply because life is so complex, I can never hope to learn? Further, if I represent to-morrow's experiences by A'^, B^, C^, D^, E^, F^, G^, H^, P, etc., how can I know that the rules which solved situa- tions A, D and H, will also solve A\ D^ and H^ ? The very fact that in the course of a week's experience I find myself in situa- tions A, A^ A^ A^ A*, etc., is in itself a proof that the exact situation never twice confronts me. Therefore I should have to have a rule for every situation, or else a formula so general that The Interpretation of Experience 7 3 it could be applied to all "A " situations. But it is not the ele- ment of similarity, the common "A " in these situations that causes me trouble. It is the new, the accidental elements, the unexpected variations, the overtones of significance which pre- vent me from seeing the similar points and from applying the formula prescribed for situation A. Further, the very fact that there are these new elements in the situation make it a new situation, for there is no reason why the elements of difference from situation A represented by A^ and A' should not be the determining factors in my reaction to these latter situations. As far as my graphic representation of these experiences is con- cerned there is no justification for representing them simply as A, A^, A^, etc. They are more adequately represented as : lAB, 2AC, 3AD, 4AE, sAF, in ' which the numbers represent the sequence of situations and A, one common element in all, while B, C, D, E, and F represent symbolically and in summarized form the totality of differing concomitants of A. Further, suppose that I do have a rule for "A " situations and apply it conscien- tiously whenever I recognise such a situation. Three difficulties arise : (i) The element A may be so insignificant in the situation 3XAC in comparison with the elements represented by CX that I fail to recognise it as an "A " situation and take it instead as a C situation in which the elements are more complex — C (17A) PQRZ. (2) I am bound by the rule to react in a prescribed, author- ised, predestined manner to a situation, only one of whose ele- ments is regarded as definitely fixed. As a result of this a mul- tiplicity of other reactions are deliberately rejected and one chosen as the necessary one. I say my experiential creed, " I believe this situation to be thus and so." I have, therefore, not re- acted to the actual situation, but have created an artificial situation to which my formula will give me a solution of some sort. But I am distinctly shutting my eyes to some of the elements in- volved. I am considering situation "A," because I have a " rule for situation A " — but I am not considering the actual situation AXC because I have no rule for so complicated a situation, and still less so for an experience whose elements may be represented as CAPQRZ. 74 The Concept of Method (3) The moment I deliberately shut my eyes to part of the situ- ation, the moment I set bounds to my vision by any creed which narrows me down to the single aspect A, that moment I cease to be free^ but am constrained by the laws of the situation, by the rule which not only tells me what to do in that particular situ- ation, but which makes me close my eyes to the richness and variety of my experience and say that it consists of only this paltry aspect "A " which can be confined within the narrow limits of a rule of conduct or a maxim of the most efficient reaction. To sum up; our experience continually presents for our solu- tion rather complicated problematic situations. By analogy we seek to solve the problem by the application of some rule. Such a procedure has the obvious advantages of being simple, safe, and speedy. But its simplicity is gained only through the wilful neglect of the difficulties, and its safety is only hypothetical. The disadvantages of any such short and swift method are: (i) It often emphasises the unessential element in a complex situation and overlooks another factor that is really determinant; (2) it creates an artificially simple situation to which it is applicable, by the deliberate rejection of certain actually existing elements; and (3) it limits my freedom and makes me the slave of a rule and the second determined factor in the solution of a situation. It would seem, therefore, that if the problematic experiences which I have to solve are to have any educational value their solution is to be sought in some other way. If the solution can- not be found in the materials or elements in the situation, may it not be found in the other factor — ^the personality of the indi- vidual who has the experience? If it is not a mechanical matter of static elements, may not a clue be found in the processes of personality? May it not be a principle of activity that we are really in search of, when we try to solve a problematic Situation? The search for standards is universal. It is one of the com- mon needs of our common life, however unconsciously it may lie hidden beneath the variations of daily experience. The need of food, shelter, and clothing which impels much of our activity that is physical is paralleled in the ethical sphere by the search for standards, which may spring out of the physical and which cer- tainly react upon the material of our common experience. This impulse to discover standards is of great significance for education. Its appearance marks the time when man becomes The Interpretation of Experience 7 5 conscious of his humanity. life is now raised to the level of an idea. The significance of human everyday acts is seen, not in reference to the stubborn material with which we have to strive, but in relation to the ideal which we are seeking to realise. It is this spiritualising of materials which is the objective task of education: it is the revelation of the pantheism of nature which is the first step towards the realisation of the divinity in man. III. The Philosophical Significance of Ends As soon as an end or purpose is thought of merely as end, i. e., as finish, conclusion, something shut up and closed, from that moment does it lose all pragmatic vitality and all energetic sig- nificance for a functional theory of education. In this sense, " end " has no teleological significance, for its reference is purely retrospective. It can be interpreted only as the conclusion or completion of a process which had such and such a beginning, and its significance is only that it is the end of that beginning. In any case of this simplified process whose end is merely conclusion, there is no loss of energy even in the ideal sense. What was kinetic, so to speak, now becomes potential. That power which the process had in it with reference to end, it now has in another way with reference to means — i. e., the phenomena which were the conclusion of that process become in turn by virtue of their character of finality in respect to the first process, the starting-point of a second, a third, etc., so that we get a series of hierarchy of " ends " which when viewed from the standpoint of evolutionary Idealism are but microscopic phases of the cosmic development. Of this the ordinary experience of every individual furnishes abundant illustration, which has been to some degree systematised in the various moral theories that have been evolved in the course of the history of human thought. Again, from another point of view and elaborating this simple phase, we find that, especially in the complex of phenomena that go to make up social life, a phenomenon may occupy at the same time several positions, more or less genetic or final in several sets or series of processes, each of which is genetically inter- related and each of which is teleologically potential, (e. g., the average human being in his daily relations.) 76 The Concept of Method A process itself ceases to exist as such when it has accom- plished its end — i. e., realised its idea. But inasmuch as a process is not concerned primarily with the individual, but is logically related to the universal, both in experience and in its reflex in language, the process gains a new realtiy. If it ceases to exist as a phenomenon in the realm of fact, it nevertheless has its reality lifted to a higher sphere of idea, where it exists as a formula, a definition, a law, hereafter determinative but not constitutive of reality. From this point of view, formulae, definitions, and laws have a peculiar kind of reality, since they are ontologically condi- tioned by complexes of phenomena upon which, however, they do not depend for their epistemological significance. This is where the danger comes in of applying too rigorously the Prag- matic canon of efficiency, inasmuch as the validity of a phe- nomenon or a process does not depend upon existential condi- tions, any more than the validity of a universal proposition in a syllogism depends upon an enumeration of particulars. In so far as process does realise its ends it is a true process — i. e., it is one with its ideal, without any teleological interpreta- tion from a human standpoint being at all necessary, though from the absolute point of view a process which is actualising itself is teleology made manifest. It is conceivable that an idea, in the sense of a potential concept or a series or system of purposes, may be realised in a process without ever being existent as a percept in a human mind. Only so far as the mind of man cor- responds to the order of nature does this experiential reproduc- tion of the idea of the process occur — i. e., it becomes a part of his world, not merely of the world or cosmos in which it exists already necessarily as an idea. When this correspondence of the phenomena of nature with the mind of man happens also to have an emotional correspon- dence at the same time with human conceptions of what is good, then popularly nature is said to be teleological. This tendency on the part of the human mind has done a great deal to obscure the real question at issue and to complicate the problem by the introduction of purely accidental and analogical elements. There must be borne in mind the danger of interpreting what may be called cosmic teleology in the terms of human moral concepts and from the point of view of human analogy, for the following reasons : The Interpretation of Experience 7 7 (1) At each stage in the evolutionary process the idea of teleology has a different content. The teleology of the amoeba, worm, fish, carnivorous and herbivorous animals and man is different and may be contradictory. From this point of view the human conception of Teleology is genetically conditioned by the process of development of which it is a part. (2) The process of Evolution affords no genetic or logical rea- son for the ultimate validity of human ideas of moral purpose. (3) There is no general agreement among mankind as to ultimate conceptions or standards, and no man has a priori concept of purpose. The mechanical and teleological interpretations of Nature are in need of a synthesis. The fact that they are not mutually ex- clusive or contradictory implies that they are specialised points of view and suggests that possibly a common basis can be found for their interpretation. It would seem as if the mechanical view involved the interpretation of the phenomena of nature from the physical level and in the terms of the concepts of mechanical science. Even in biology, where we have to deal with matter in an organic form, we still find the attempt made to interpret the phenomena of life in mechanical terms. In similar fashion, the teleological interpretation of Nature is a purposive explana- tion, generally in terms of human concepts of end and volition. Both of these partial and complementary views can be har- monised only in the light of some principle of idealistic inter- pretation from the cosmic point of view. Then the mechanical fact and the ideal significance become one. It would seem meaningless to apply the concept of human Teleology in a wholesale way to the cosmic process. To do so means that we are applying it to phenomena of various qualities with which it is not homogeneous, and consequently the argu- ments based thereon are possibly fallacious. If we do wish to make this cosmic application of teleology, we shall have to sub- stitute for our human teleology the conception of cosmic teleology : and the two are by no means synonymous, any more than human good and evil and cosmic good and evil are necessarily identical. There is frequently a confusion between the meaning of a thing and its origin. A thing cannot from the same point of view be interpreted both in terms of its origin and of its mean- 78 The Concept of Method ing, purpose or end. The ontological inquiry is only regulative ; the epistemological is constructive. From the mechanical point of view we cannot properly speak of purpose, which is an idea that belongs to the volitional level of existence. Teleology cannot apply to facts as facts^ but only to the idea of which they are the manifestation, embodiment, or realisation. Mechanism deals with forms; Teleology deals with ideas and principles. The conception of process implies, in the first place, elements in relation, and, in the second place, ideas becoming realised. The former constitutes the mechanical, and the latter the teleo- logical aspect. From the point of view of the process, into which the moral element does not enter, the idea becomes realised through the interaction of the elements, and we have a progressive relation which depends for its actuality upon the mechanical con- ditions which it presupposes, and for its reality upon the idea which it involves as the epistemological condition of its appear- ance. Relativity is a controlling idea that has been too little em- phasised in teleological thought ; and the various meanings given to the term Teleology by the physicist, the biologist, and the ethical theorist have been overlooked, though it is just these small additional elements that enter into the concept as held by each which cause the real confusion and involve all the logical difficulties in discussion. Purposes or ends in the mechanical and in the biological sphere are obviously different from purposes or ends in the moral sphere, so that the whole question of teleology has been complicated by the confusion of merely mechanical elements with those that are purely volitional in character. In addition to this, the discussion has been colored on both sides by emotion, and has been biased by mutual exclusion on the part of both the scientist and the moralist. The conception of purpose does not imply an a priori deter- mination of the means. The distinction between logical neces- sity with regard to form and psychological reality with regard to content must be borne in mind. The fact that the form ap- plies to various kinds of content involves the existence of ten- tative solutions to problematic situations, either physical or in- tellectual or ethical. The Interpretation of Experience 79 Henc€, though Evolution may give the form to the process of cosmic development, the content may either progress or re- gress, may be " right and good " or " wrong and bad " from the point of view of formal perfection or complete adjustment, merely qua process. Evolution works either way. It does not follow, however, that what seems to us as regression may not after all be a part of the general process of nature's advance,i and only seem regress from the human point of view, which is limited by the conditions of human intelligence. When the truth ol form and the truth of facts are synonymous then the condi- tions of ideal teleology are fulfilled. There is then no popular distinction of phenomena and processes into " artificial " and " natural," of which the former relate to the operations and pro- ductions of man, while the latter refer to nature and to God. The world of nature possesses potentialities which man may actualise, create, develop, or liberate, much as the chemist liberates chemical substances and discovers, literally, new elements. The principle of the conservation of energy demands a belief in the potentiality of nature. Idealism demands a belief in the interpretative power of humanity. So long as we have the phenomena of the world as elements in the problem, so long will mechanical terms have to enter into our interpretation. But so long as we have faith in the ultimate purposes of the universe, so long will idealistic method interpret the results of our experience. The fact is determined mechanic- ally in many instances but the end or purpose or result is deter- mined teleologically. This may apply only to certain cases, e. g., my walking to a certain destination is determined by the direc- tion of the streets, by the number of the people in the way, by wind, rain, etc., but my destination, which logically precedes my action, is itself determined only by my idea, or by the system of purposes which constitute the directive element in my experience. The whole process of experience consists in the constantly pro- gressive interrelation of the mechanical conditions of experience and the conscious recognition of the teleological ideas that are involved in any process of human thought. CHAPTER VIII THE FUNCTION OF METHOD The problem before us is to show that theory and practice are not two separate entities brought into relation in the course of experience, but are essentially phases of a single and unitary activity — differentiated aspects in every phase of individual and social activity. Theory and practice are complementary phases of the larger concept of method or of the function of intelligence in experience. It is natural that, in the genetic process of historical develop- ment, these two phases, which are in quality so different, should be regarded as separate and self-existent in a very dualistic man- ner. The knowledge of how a thing should be done was regarded as something very different from the ability to produce the result in question, and this divorce between head and hand was all the more emphasised when one class of persons planned and directed work which another class of men carried out in a more or less blind and unconscious, though technically skillful manner. To know what was to be done was quite a different kind of knowl- edge from the knowledge that comes from the power of being able to do. In education, even, where this dualistic basis of work is more uncritically accepted than in other branches of activity because it is less apparent, there is often to be found ample illustration of this mechancal conception of the relation of theory and practice. Courses in " theory " in normal schools and colleges are often complete in themselves, neither growing out of the student's ex- perience nor leading to a reconstruction of it ; while on the other hand their " practical " work, dealing with the actual problems of class-room experience and with their own very vital relations to their pupils, seems to have a warmth and vitality and a near- 80 The Function of Method 8i ness to them that abstracted lectures on theory do not possess. In the same way in the religious life of many individuals there is, perhaps unconsciously in many cases, this separation between the thoughts that they have about conduct, about ideals, about the things that they ought to do, on the one hand, and the this and the that of the daily round and common task, with its manifold of petty commissions and omissions. If we attempt to discuss this dualism between theory and prac- tice we find two general attitudes among men. There is in the first place one common among men who are engaged in work which deals largely with the materials of the earth and which requires little thought save that involved in tradi- tion, inherited custom, and the performance of a series of annual habits that together approximate a personality. These are they who are content to toil, without asking why or how. Their fathers have done so ; why should they do otherwise ? Thus they were taught ; why should they better the instruction ? It is harder for the mind of one of these to entertain the new idea than for the nerves and muscles of the body to go regularly through the accustomed occupations of the circling year. The mechanics of habit have become to them all in all. They have a mental inertia and a momentum of bodily habit neither of which can be changed. There are teachers of this type, who teach as they have been taught and who feel uncomfortable and in strange places and unfamiliar ways if circumstances oblige them to take up new material or to use old material in new ways. They are those who always come back. " Fresh fields and pastures new " have no attractions for them. The practice of the good old days in the good, old-fashioned way is their very life, and any theory which would cause a break in the regular course of long-standing habits is not taken kindly to. In addition to the class of people and teachers who dislike any modifications of practice and who leave theory as an unconscious part of their experience, there are those who believe that theory is something that is acquired " en bloc," and is put into the mind much as a Lockean idea, by being written upon a tabula rasa. Theory from this point of view is a certain mass of precepts, rules and recipes for behaviour, for the conduct of classes, for teach- ing lessons, and for rightly and duly administering all the details of school life. This view is perhaps more prevalent among those 82 The Concept of Method who are being trained for teaching than it is among those who are training them. The young teacher comes too quickly upon materials and methods which he has not time properly to organise as parts of his own experience, and in his haste to get command over these new materials and activities unconsciously asserts this dualism by seeking to regulate his experience by precepts instead of by principles. In these two attitudes to theory and practice — the first ignoring any conscious theory, and the second making theory something external to and imposed upon practice — we have two stages in the genetic process which culminates in the realisation that theory and practice are both aspects of the one process of experience, though the emphasis placed upon either may be infinitely varied in diverse times and places. Instead of having as theory what someone else thinks and as practice that which you do; or theory something you think and practice that which you do, however un- connected with that part of your experience which is thought — instead of this, theory and practice are one ; they are experience ; they are acting one upon the other in everything we do, in every lesson we teach, in all we think, and say, and write. Our experi- ence is an organic part of our personality, and our theory and our practice are organic parts of our experience. They grow, develop, change, modify in many ways and from various causes, but they are always organically related to our experience and always are interrelated, terminal aspects, so to speak, in con- sciousness. The discovery of laws of nature and the formulation of prin- ciples of human activity are two of the latest and highest achieve- ments of thought. Both stand at the upper end of a long line of development from beginnings so simple, crude, and unformed that it is only a retrospective interpretation of thought that dis- covers in the apparent simplicity of these genetic conditions the "promise and potency" of later, development. It is possible for the investigator to consider anything that grows from simple beginnings and develops into a relatively higher and more organised thing from two different and con- trasted points of view. We shall find that, in every one of the sciences and spheres of investigation which have to deal with phenomena subject to the general process of evolution, these two points of view are involved. Sometimes one is emphasised, some- The Function of Method 83 times the other; but in every instance each point of view will be seen to imply and involve the other two if we think consistently and in an organised manner, for nowhere more than in the realm of thought are relations more certain to make themselves felt by those whose minds are open to the light and faithful to the truth. (i) Briefly in considering the process of development of any- thing organic in character, we may look upon it in its simplest and original form, in the embryo, so to speak,, from which the later organism is to develop. Such a point of view may con- veniently be called Genetic. (2) Or,, instead of looking at the past origin of the organism, we may try to discover what the pur- pose of its existence is, what aim and ultimate end is realising itself in and through the various activities of this developing organism. Such a point of view is known as Teleological. Neither of these two methods of interpretation, however, is complete in itself, or ultimately valuable if separated from the other. Uniting the genetic fact and the teleological interpreta- tion, both of which are legitimate inquiries for the scientist and for the philosopher, there is the functional point of view, which partakes of the nature of both of the others. It emphasises the process of the experience of the organism, and considers the manner in which it grows, acts, and reacts, and the different processes that are involved in the gradual organisation of its various activities. In a word, it deals with the method of the organism. Of this method the primary genetic conditions and the ultimate teleologicaJ idea of purpose are but phases : the reality of the organism lies in the functional interaction of the idea which is seeking realisation, and the form which is demanding some kind of idealisation. In Education, therefore, the emphasis can- not be placed siolely upon the immature and developing child on the one kamtf, nor on the other hand only upon the ideals of education. The two must be realised in their organic relation, for only then Js education performimg its true functiom. It is throughf this process of interaction that social purposes gain reaiHty,, and it is: through the same process that the immatmr pDtentialiti€s oi the children gaim- ideal' valtte. The fiinction of education- andj the ultimate method of experiemce then fe twoloid : it consists ©£ the pcogressive inteuactioni of real children, and social idealsi — ^a; process^ of interaction through which the original cfaaar- 84 The Concept of Method acters of the children become idealised and at the same time the ends and purposes of society become realised. Historically these three aspects have at different times domi- nated philosophical thought. Each has its distinct outlook upon the phenomena of experience, and the differences that exist among the three are fraught with great differences in implication from the point of view of educational theory. One has only to consider obvious cases where educational theory emphasised the teleological while educational practice based itself upon the genetic, to realise that there can be no permanent truth or value in education as a social process or as a method of individual de- velopment until these two points of view are properly realised in their functional interrelation. The necessity for placing due emphasis upon this interaction between genetic conditions and teleological ideals will be all the more evident from the analysis of experience which follows. Together the three form a unity : they constitute the only organic unity which education can have as a method of human experience. This unity lies at the basis of the functional interpretation of any of the phenomena of experience. The thing considered is one, a unity, having many sides or aspects, any one of which may be emphasised and made central for the time being, and in so far as any particular purpose is realised at any particular stage in experience, in so far do genetic and teleological aspects come into functional relation, and the reality of the method is mani- fested. One has only to consider the different aspects under which the tree may be regarded by the farmer, lumberman, and botanist ; the child, by parent, teacher, or another child ; the home by government, father, mother, or servant ; to see that the reality depends upon the completeness with which the particular phe- nomenon, organism, or process, embodies in its function the teleo- logical ideals which, from any particular point of view, have been discovered to be latent in it. In each case, whether the condi- tions under consideration be regarded primarily from the genetic or from the teleological point of view, there is underneath all partial manifestations, all aspects and forms, an underlying prin- ciple of development, which gives them unity, and is in reality the method of the process. This principle binds together the three points of view, because the organism in the course of its develop- ment at different steps involves the characteristic elements in The Function of Method 85 each of these three fundamental points of view. There is, there- fore, this objective unity which is characteristic of anything which conforms to the principle of evolution, quite independent of relationship to human experience. This objective unity has its subjective aspect in the fact that these three possible ways of interpreting experience are in reality phases of the method of the mind's operation. Once the funda- mental psychic unity of mental processes is realised, it follows that there can be no ultimate opposition between these phases as special branches of method, whether or not we use the terms Feeling, Thought, and Volition in Psychology, or Genesis, Function, and Teleology in Epistemology. As our thought de- velopes, they will be seen more and more to be in organic rela- tion and ultimately to be in complete unity. If we could at one and the same time see the manifold of experience from this three- fold point of view, we would approach the realisation of that vision of the universe sub specie aeternitatis towards which Spinoza was unconsciously working. This threefold character of the process of the mind's organisa- tion of experience constitutes a subjective unity which is the counterpart of the objective unity found in the material of ex- perience. The correspondence between the course of nature and the mind of man is here seen from the point of view of method. The method of experience consists in the progressive inter- action of these two unities, in their conscious organisation in the process of experience, and in their subsequent elevation through the conceptual power of the mind, to the level of idea, concept, law, or principle. Control as a Function of Method In every branch of human knowledge or other department of thought that we break off from its organic connection for pur- poses of closer examination, we find certaiif specific things that inevitably suggest the relationship of this particular branch with the parent trunk to which it properly belongs. But in addition to these special close connections there are to be found in any part of the universe of thought certain general similarities and great underlying uniformities which necessarily characterise whatever in its constitution is organic. Consequently in attempting any &6 The Concept of Method consideration of such a partial aspect of the whole field of ex- perience aS' that of control as a function of method, we are obliged in the way of prolegomena, to pay some attention to those fundamental ideas which make it an organic part of our thougJit and at the same time give it significasnce in our experi- ence as a whole. The three great ideas that underlie a functional idealism have already been stated to be (i) Umty, (2) Interaction, (3) De- velopment. What concerns us now, therefore, is to show that these fundamental ideas are necessary presuppositions to amy consideration of control as a function of method. ( 1 ) In the first place, in order to have any philosophy at all there must be recognised, either explicitly or implicitly, some kind of unity. The discovery of this unity has always been the goal of philosophic inquiry, whether objectively in the field of science, or subjectively in the realm of psychology and meta- physics. Every advance that has been made in or through thought has been due to a closer approximation to such a tmity, for even the recognition of differences is indirect evidence of a unity. In that aspect of the general process of method to which we have given the name control, this same quality of unity is a prere- quisite to its existence, either as a concept in the mind, or as a process objectively realising itself in experience. Control neces- sarily implies conformity to a standard, and therefore uniformity and ultimate unity. It involves, not ultimate disparates and per- manently separable entities — for between these there could be no function of control — but an ideal of uniformity which involves, fundamentally and essentially, permanence as its principle. With- out permanence there can be no control, and without control there can be no method, for in the largest sense method is the control of experience by principles. (2) In the second place, however, the very fact that we have to search for this element of permanence and unity, and that it continually influences our thought, indicates that there is some sort of interaction between the standard that we set up as the goal or ideal of our thinking and the activity of thought itself. This interaction depends upon the general correspondence be- tween the mind of man and the universe cff possible experience which is one of the conditions of thought. At the same time it implies that this correspondence is at present only imperfectly The Function of Method 87 realised in our science and philosophy, and it indicates that in every fact we state, in every thought we think, and in everything which we believe, though not having seen, there is the continual interaction between this standard of unity on the one hand, be it expressed as truth, or beauty, or conviction, and the various phenomena of our experience which we sift and mould and train in various ways, even to remaking our personal world, in order to bring it more into harmony with this ideal of unity, wdlcb alone gives permanence. (3) For, in the third place, were there universal permanence in fact as well as in principle, there could be no experience, which by its very nature implies an element that is not perma- nent. It is out of this manifold of changing manifestations that the method of human experience, through its functions of con- trol, developes a unity. It realises the permanent despite the fluctuating instalbility of its confines, much as we realise the permanence of the ocean behind and beneath the ebb and flow of tide and waves which unceasingly change its limits. It is curious that this variability in phenomena, this multitude of ap- parent particulars should have been regarded by some as the strongest argument against the unity which philosophy postulates, when in reality it is a necessary condition of our experience as individuals and of the very possibility of our conception of unity and permanence. It is not only in metaphysics that the prac- tical opposition between the one and the many is a criterion of the possibility of experience, but in psychology, where the whole treatment of perception, association, and memory depends on this element of disparity and change; in logic, where the whole process of deductive and inductive reasoning depends upon the re- lationship of the one and the many ; and in theology, where, per- haps more than in any other branch of thought, questions of unity and plurality, and of the relation of the temporal and the indi- vidual to the permanent and universal, have appeared fraught with tultimiate significaince. To sum lap, it appears that we cannot have any experience without something fundamentally permanent as a basis ; nor can we have experience without certain variations from this per- manent, the disparity between which, when consciously realised in our experiences, forces us by the very constitution of our thought to make use of the permanent to control the transient and acci- 88 The Concept of Method dental. This process is not only the method of experience but it is that by which we develop, for it is through the progressive reconciliation of the partial and the particular with the perma- nent that we realise in ourselves this very permanence that under- lies all things, and therefore become ourselves more and more identified with the organic unity which we conceive the universe to be. It is this progressive self-development through interaction with dififerent aspects of the fundamental unity of the world that forms the ideal, not only of a philosophy of education, but also of psychology, logic, ethics, aesthetics, and theology. In addition to these presuppositions of control from the point of view of Idealism, there are certain fundamental conditions in- volved by the evolutionary method which also underlies this con- sideration of the elements of experience. In the actual process of control these aspects are not apparent in a consciously differ- entiated manner, but when the method of this control is realised as an idea, then it becomes evident that we have on the one hand a multitude of immature forms, of embryonic organisms, of par- tial manifestations, and on the other hand the ideal of the fully developed organism, the standard or ideal to be realised, the prin- ciple that is organising the diversity of manifestations into a unity, either in the phenomena of nature or in the realm of indi- vidual thought or social experience. There is the physical em- bryo in the process of evolution, gradually approximating the form of its highest organisation, — there is the feeblest evanescent impulse and instinct of the child flashing forth momentarily, op- portunely seized upon, made a habit, and raised to consciousness through encouragement, direction, and control by those who are more mature; and there are all the social phases of the child's experience which require reinforcement and development through association with, and organisation in, the institutionalised life of the community and the race. The concept of control, therefore, from the evolutionary point of view, involves the interaction of the immature and the mature, of the lower with the higher, of the manifold and diversified possibilities of the developing indi- vidual organism with those habitual methods of control which form the standards of social activity. When we ask what anything is, we can be answered in a variety of ways. We may have the object of phenomenon or process described to us, we may be told of what parts and elements it The Function of Method 89 consists, we may have its use or function explained, or we may be given a definition of it. Of all these meanings of a phenomenon or process perhaps the least satisfactory is the definition. There is something about beginning with a definition that seems contrary to the natural order of thought. Definitions are really the farther end of the process of thought. If concepts are to be organic parts of our thought they cannot be given to us ready-made as moulds out of w'hich, by the simple process of filling in a content, we can turn ideas. They are forms of thought in the sense that there must be certain characteristic and essential ways in which the mind's activity functions, but these are subjective conditions of thought and not the formulae, concepts, or definitions in which we register the results of thought. In the natural order of the mind's working we can only form a true definition at the end of our consideration of a given aspect of experience, when we have thoroughly become acquainted with the aspect or phenomenon and have separated the essential from the accidental, the permianent from the evanescent. Hence in seek- ing to understand the meaning of control as a function of method, we will attempt to work towards the possibility of a definition through an analysis of various uses of the term that are implied in different spheres of experience, rather than, in a more dogmatic and deductive fashion, to start from the definition and elaborate its implications. A brief glance at the obvious and familiar instances of control of one kind or another that we meet in everyday experience in- dicates two broad general classes into which the concept divides itself: one of these is objective, external, and mechanical in char- acter ; and the other is subjective, internal, and organic. A closer examination will indicate the specific points of difference between these two phases of control, and will emphasise the significance of the latter in the method of experience. (i) Perhaps the most prevalent, as well as the popular, con- ception of control is that of a more or less arbitrary imposition of superior power from an external source. From this point of view we are controlled in a large number of ways every day of our lives : the regular sequence of day and night, the vagaries of the weather and the variations of climatic conditions, the avail- able supply of food, the unavoidable routine of business, and travel — all these, to a greater or less degree, control our actions. 90 The Concept of Method and control them in a way that admits of little interference from us. But in addition to the control of these external plaenoraema which constrain us in a physical way, there is the control which is exercised by human, as opposed to natural, law. This jural aspect represents a higher phase than that of control by physical phenomena, because here the element of human .consciousness enters in as a dominating element. Here, too, the moral element first appears, in so far as any individual is .at liberty to act con- trary to the law. Yet this factor of choice and freedom of action is by the nature of the control imposed, reduced, in ideal at least, to its minimum, either through the elimination of the conditions necessary to the realisation of activity contrary to that legally de- manded, or through the deterrent influences of predetermined consequences that are practically prohibitive of transgression. We reach a higher ethical, though not so universal a stage from the point of view of the content of the control involved, when we come to that exercised in our experience by rules, pre- cepts, maxims of action, conduct or thought. Here the range of the control varies in strength from conditions where these habitual rules and maxims take the place of organised legal en- actments, as in the case of some savage tribes, down to the merest counsels of expediency which guide many trivial daily acts. Here, however, the control is still imposed upon the individual from without, and from a moral point of view conformity to rule or precept has little to check our estimates of moral strength. As the criterion by which we judge is still an external one, there must always be the conscious reference to the standard before the extent of the conformity can be estimated. There is still the dualism, then, that existed in the case of legal prescription be- tween the element that controls conduct and the individual whose act is to be judged or estimated; and as long as there is this dtialism there cannot be true freedom nor the highest kind of ac- tivity. The conduct of life has not yet reached the level of an art. Human spiritual life has not yet become a conscious process ; its idea has not emerged as the motive force in experience. This is realised only in the stage represented in the next and last con- ception of control as a function of the method of experience. (2) There is, in any phase of common experience, a threefold phase of development through which it is possible to pass. In the The Function of Method 91 lowest stage the child or the individual performs actions through instinct or ibabit; the activity is almost entirely unconscious in the sense that it is not intellectually regarded as a iprooess thcough which the individual may express himself; and consequently it corresponds to that level of conduct which is controlled by law, where there is the same blind, unquestioning obedience to objec- tive authority. In the second of these phases of personal develop- ment there is the birth of self-consciousness. The child or the individual begins to objectify the activity in which he is engaged, begins to see himself as others see him, and for the first time realises, with a flash of that inspiration wbich iUumines the birth of personality, the ever-widening gap between the real and the ideal. Shortcomings from the attainment of the standard set before one are apt to loom disproportionately large, for this is the stage of self-criticism, where all one's activities are subjected to a control that is more direct, supervisory, and immediate than in the earlier stage of being under the law. Each action is measured by a standard of conformity, social, intellectual, and ethical, showing that the individual is in a transition stage, repre- sented psychologically in the development of self-consciousness, socially, in the adjustment of personality to the manifold aspects of institutional life, and ethically, in the temporary adoption of a scheme of utilitarian morality strangely shot through with prophesies of pessimism and idealism. Both these stages, which correspond exactly to those phases of external control that we have been considering, lead on, in the ordinary course of development to the third and last stage, which involves on the one hand inner and organic control by principle, instead of outwardly by law and rule, and on the other hand the fullest self-realisation as a spiritual self-controlled personaility. How this final stage differs from those which genetically precede it now remains to be seen. The species of control exercised by law, whether of nature or xA the state, and by the conventions and rules of social and voca- tional activity, are to a greater or less degree a restraint upon individual activity, and yet at the same time ccmformity with what is demanded assures to the individual an ever-increasing degree of freedom. The observation of laws and social customs introduces an element of regularity, uniformity, or unity into the actions of men, so that one's plans of action can be the more 92 The Concept of Method definitely made and freed from much of that uncertainty which the personal equation always introduces. Still, from the indi- vidual's point of view, as long as there is external or objective control, there can be no true freedom. This comes only when we have passed from the stage of self-consciousness and criticism to that of guidance by principle, in which each act of ours is the manifestation or realisation of the spirit that is within us. Prac- tice and theory are in organic interaction, and this interaction is synonymous with the method of individual experience. Activity that is thus directed by the control of inner principle is truly free, for now the antithesis between individual and the law, be- tween the actual and the ideal is reconciled in a unity which is nothing else than the spiritual life of man. The individual is now a self-controlled personality — an organism in which there is the possibility of perfect harmony, and in which at the same time there is going on in miniature that reconciliation of the many changing manifestations with the unity of principles which we see going on in all the phases of the life of the world. This freedom of personality is then one of the characteristics of the method of individual experience at the highest stage of its de- velopment. Control that was external has now become self- control. The standard once external, mechanical, and objective, has now become internal, organic, subjective, and exercises its control only in being the form in which individual activity realises itself. In the ideal of method, the ideal and the real of individual experience form a unity; the method and the standard become one, or are at least but terminal aspects of a unified activity, the content and the form giving reality to one another in the actual process of interaction. The standard then is the method, and the method is the standard; in the activity of a self-controlled spiritual personality the distinction between the two terms loses its meaning. That is the reason why it is difficult, if not impos- sible, to give an adequate definition of control. The relativity of the terms of the definition corresponds to the degree of our per- sonal realisation of the factor of control in the method of our own experience. In the control of our activities by standards or criteria, there are three stages which may be distinguished : ( I ) Instinctive or unconscious control by physical instincts and needs. The control in this case is inherent in the nature of the The Function of Method 93 function itself, or is consciously expressed, in education for in- stance, in the social control exercised apparently arbitrarily by the mature members of society over the potential activities of their children. (2) Conscious or attentive control. In this stage in the pro- gressive socialisation of the individual there is a conscious and individual reorganisation or reconstruction of his experience. He has reached a stage in his development in which he can perceive differences in action and can realise the disparity between fact and ideal ; he finds his actions involving deliberation, a balancing of motives and situations, determination and choice. Here the individual finds himself in a stage of transition, midway between the bondage to physical law and the freedom which comes from the active expression of a moral principle within. (3) Habitual control. At this stage the individual realises his freedom through the law. He expresses the general principles of human activity at large. He has developed the method of his experience. He has realised how physical control and social sanc- tion may be rationalised in individual thought, and he has formed a basis for further moral development. The aim of this stage is the functional expression of developed character, and the pro- gressive organisation and valuation of experience. The educa- tional implications of these three stages are well summed up by Aristotle when he says that " in the case of the virtues, a man is not said to act justly or temperately (or like a just or temperate man) if what he does merely be of a certain sort — ^he must also be in a certain state of mind when he does it : therefore, first of all, he must know what he is doing; secondly, he must choose it, and choose it for itself ; and, thirdly, his act must be the expres- sion of a formed and stable character." The interpretation of the process of experience from the point of view of activity al- ways gives more significance to the materials involved. Education is always a process of giving meaning to the environment. The blacksmith hammers meaning into the iron as he hammers shape into the horseshoe. The carpenter builds an idea at the same time that he constructs a table or chair. Teaching in the same way adds to the significance and value and reality of the daily world in which the child is developing. The world grows as the child develops, and there is continual proof of correspondence and mutual influence between nature and the mind of man. Edu- 94 The Concept of Method cation, therefore, becomes a continuous process of realising the possibilities of the materials which nature provides and of seeaJJg the ideal and ultimate significance of those activities w^ith which we are endowed and which form the motive force of ail educa- tional progress. Yet human activity rarely attains such perfection of technique or realises the ideal of method. Consequently it seldom truly bodies forth the ideal, the divine idea, the logical concept, the defi- nition, the method, in anything but a partial, one-sided, incom- plete manifestation. This is true both of the fine and of the constructive arts, and of that fines't and most constructive of all arts, the art of human life itself. From the point of view of the material, there are two sides that have to be kept in mind in any consideration of the function of method. The first of these concerns itself with the possibilities which any material involves. These have to be recognised and liberated before they can become functional realities, before the potential energy involved can become dynamic in any sense sig- nificant for education. In the wood lie possibilities which when liberated become functional elements in human life as chair, table, oar, or pencil ; in the boy lie possibilities which may realise them- selves as butcher, baker, or candlestick-maker. The purpose in education, in this respect, is a twofold one: it has to recognize the further possibilities of both the conventional materials of education, and it has to become more deeply conscious of the human possibilities and the social significance of the child. It is only when the possibilities are recognised and then freed from limitations through the liberating process of education, that the ultimate significance of materials can be realised or their func- tion apprehended in the general process of experience. The second aspect that has to be kept in mind in any considera- tion of the materials of education is complementary to the one already examined. If the recognition of the possibilities of the materials is the positive side of the process, there is also the negative aspect which involves the clear realisation of the limita- tions of materials dn their attempt to body forth something that is not material. There is a certain incompatibility between the material and the idea or ideal to be embodied, an inherent impos- sibility of the complete and permanent realisation of an idea in a material, unless these terminal aspects be disregarded, and the The Function of Method 95 funGtioiial interaction of the two be emphasised. If, to make the matter clearer, we think of the conventional limitations familiar to us in the pictorial representations' of reality; of the temporal limitations in the subjective impression of music, or in the objec- tive representation of sculpture; or of the liocal' and temporal limitations whicfc are forever conditioning man's realisations of his ethical ideals, we are forced to recognise the fact that there are aspects of reality which escape the impiisonment of the material, and overtones of meaning which are too delicate or evanescent for a material not finely tun^d to respond to such harmony. It is this very uncertainty as to how far he has attained insight into the real meaning of things, this lack of accuracy and com- pleteness in the way in which humanity reveals or attains its ends and purposes, that leads man to seek something other than the material by means of which he may estimate the success of his endeavour or measure up his attainment with the ideal that he has set up before himself to realise. Hence it comes about in every sphere of life our activity is ultimately regulated by some standard, is directed to some end, and is, by the very nature of experience, bound to deal with material more or less inadequate for the purpose. In every phase of the common experiences of our common life there is the search for the permanent in the changing, for the universal underlying the particular, for the truth that is the core of fact, for the ideal that is at the heart of the reaJi. The function of standard is closely connected with this Janus- like activity of finding the ideal in the real and the real in the ideal. Retrospectively, a standard is a basis for the criticism of our achievement; from: the point of view of present experience, it is an instrument for the control of our activity; and prospec- tively, the staindard is an iflspiratioo for the shaping of our ideals and purposes. There remains the consideration of the question of the rela- tion of standards of the two great philosophical ideas underlying this whole treatment of method and materials. (i) Ezrahttiom. Genetically, a standard emerges as soon as an activity is raised to the level of an idea, as soon as the material becomes spiritualised, as soon as practice is idealised and recon- structed into theory. The necessity of standard-seeking and of 96 The Concept of Method standard-forming can never be explained genetically ; the study of the evolution of standards is a study of facts, and is neither a justification nor an explanation of them. At most, from the evolutionary point of view, standards are categories of activity. They are functional points of interaction between the ethical and the non-ethical, between conscience and impulse. Consequently the evolutionary significance of a standard is twofold: in the first place, the very fact of its existence at all implies a relatively high type of activity with a corresponding intellectual and moral development. In the second place, its organic character, in com- mon with all other factors of mind, indicates an inherent possi- bility of development. The level of experience is raised from the physical to the spiritual and spiritual laws are of a higher order than physical laws. (2) Idealism. The existence of a standard is synonymous with the possibility of idealism in any form. As long as there is a distinction between the actual and the real, between the existent and the ideal, there is implied some standard by which the differ- ence is determined. There are standards of various qualities corresponding to the various levels of evolutionary development, and one may have, for instance, a standard which is little more than a material copy or model, or an ideal to be realised in a given material and through a special activity, or finally an archetype or divine idea which can never be fully realised in the limitations of earthly material or human mundane activities. As a standard- ising method. Idealism has two functions: in the first place, retrospectively and negatively, it indicates the disabilities of the material, and its unsuitability for the realisation of the idea or con- ception in question. It thus cuts off and eliminates the extraneous, insignificant, meaningless elements, the logically and materially accidental, and concentrates, so to speak, the essentials in a posi- tive way by the very negative process of critical elimination. In the second place, prospectively and positively. Idealism then takes this nearest approximation to the ideal as the basis for fur- ther idealisation and carries the standard to a higher level, from which it will in turn react upon the earlier temporal material realisation, and will lift it to a higher level of reality, and so onward and upward in that continuous process of interaction be- tween the ideal and the real which is the method of experience. BIBLIOGRAPHY Adam, James. Religious teachers of Greece. Edinburgh, 1908. Aristotle. Metaphysics. Nicomachean ethics. Armstrong, A. C. Transitional eras in thought. New York, 1904. Bacon, Francis. Works, (ed. Spedding, Ellis, and Heath.) New York, 1870-72. 15 V. Baglby, W. C. Educative process. 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