(3) Observation processes absorbed in the higher psychical.

The intellectual processes once called forth to meet the needs of action do not always intervene between observation and response. They may dominate and control observation. Observation then becomes for the time being subservient to intellectual processes of the higher order, or, to put it in other words, observation is taken up into the higher psychical processes to form an organic part of them. We may use the illustration of the birch trees here also. If I had difficulty in locating my house, my memory and thought processes might be called very actively into play. Under these conditions I would observe everything relating to the solution of my problem more closely. If the idea of the silver birch trees appeared as the one most relevant to the problem of locating my house, then my observation of silver birch trees all along the street would probably become very acute. Another illustration would be the case of the hunter who has an idea that he is in the vicinity of the lair of a wild animal. He begins, under the domination of that idea, to search for tracks in the snow or for trails in the leaves, and he is alert to catch and interpret every sort of noise that may indicate the presence of the beast. Where there is, as in these cases, a real problem; where higher psychical processes are at work whose completion demands further observation, then observation is most dynamic and vital. What is true of life in this respect is true also of the observation processes of the schoolroom.

(4) Observation and intellection in continuity with motor processes.

Thus far we have seen the continuity of perceptual processes, with movement and also with higher psychical processes, and we have seen the unity of the observation processes with the intellectual in those cases in which the intellectual processes take up the observation processes into themselves as an organic part of the whole. Now, the

interrelation and interdependence of these pr observation, intellection, and movement can be from still another angle. Out of motor responses arise new problems, calling for further observat further intellectual activities of the higher type, o The baby, who, in manipulating a box, accidental the cover, finds himself face to face with a new and at once he begins to explore and to investig In t try to get the cover back on to the box. training room, the child who has driven a nail int in such a way as to split the wood is confron problem demanding investigation. He may no first time see that the nail is more wedge shape than the other, and he may also observe that the w he is using has such a characteristic as the grain he has ever seen these things before or not, h them as facts with a significance as relevant to doing. And this makes them more vital.

In all departments of life is it not what we do mines very largely what we shall see and wha think about? If we are farmers, we observe horses and crops and lands, and what we see sug new problems or variations of old ones. If we the fact that we have to paint pictures or to ca is constantly determining that we shall observ beauty and of harmony and that we shall be find we do and what we see hosts of new proble thoughts. In real life the need of doing things and processes of observation and of thought and dynamic phases of the process of activity. 3. THE FALLACY OF ISOLATING OBSERVATION,

TION, AND MOTOR RESPONSE IN TRAINING Our illustrations and discussions have serve clear the point that in actual experience, view in all its continuity and fluidity, the processes of

intellection, and motor response are not isolable. They are organically and dynamically related to one another, they are inextricably interwoven from every point of view. With whichever you start, you find the other two either genetically or functionally implied and necessarily involved. They are inseparable functional activities within one whole of adjustment activity. If this is true, then it is pedagogically fallacious, because psychologically abnormal, to isolate any of these processes for separate training. To make this point more specific we shall touch upon some of the fallacious isolations to which school practice is liable.

(1) The isolation of observation processes.

The isolation of observation processes for separate training is abnormal; for observation normally takes place in relation to a problem, a need to be met, a something to be done in a given situation. Observation, including the whole process of getting facts at first hand, is very important, as we shall see later,1 for the building up of right images and the attainment of correct concepts. But observation should proceed under the guidance and direction of some definite problem to which it is relevant.

Pestalozzi got hold of a very important principle which needed special emphasis in his day when he insisted on the training of his pupils in observation. But when he set them to observing the cracks in the wall, that kind of observation was lacking in vitality. If there had been some problem, as for example, the question of whether the wall needed to be replastered, or the question of whether the building was settling, then there would have been some point in observing the number and character of the cracks in the wall. Observation under these circumstances would be functional and not merely formal.

There is not much sense in observing the pores on the under side of a leaf unless the observation is related to the problem of how the function of respiration is carried on.

'See Chapters XIII and XVII.

To observe that the north star is stationary or that the magnetic needle always points north is of little significance as a mere fact, unless it leads to the problem of finding one's direction on the sea. It is well that the old-fashioned object lessons which made observation an end in itself are being rapidly relegated to the pedagogical scrap heap. To conduct observation exercises when there is no problem out of which observation springs or to the apprehension of which it leads, violates the functional and dynamic nature of observation processes within the whole mental life.

(2) The isolation of the intellectual activities.

The isolation of the intellectual, or higher psychical, processes for separate training is abnormal. This is the great fallacy of formal discipline. Formal discipline values certain subjects of study and certain modes of procedure for the sake of the training which they are supposed to give to some particular "faculty," such as memory, judgment, reasoning, etc.

We would not deny that there are certain subjects of study which are more suitable than others to call into play to a large degree certain functional activities of the mind. There is no doubt that Latin gives a splendid field for the accurate and careful discrimination of the meaning of terms and that mathematics is well adapted to the training of the thinking powers. But to study these subjects merely for the sake of this training without any regard for the social and practical values inherent in them is to isolate the intellectual activities from the larger whole within which they would function normally and to make of them merely formal practice.

Formal exercises designed primarily for the exercise of this or that particular mental "faculty" ignore the principle of the organic and dynamic continuity of all the mental processes with one another and with action. Intellectual activities that are to be vital must arise out of some problematic situation in which they function to meet the demands of the

occasion, and they must somehow determine either the present motor response or some attitude for the future. This will be seen more clearly in a later discussion in this same chapter, hence we shall not give it further development at this point.

(3) The isolation of motor activities.

The isolation of motor training makes it a mere matter of manual dexterity arbitrarily determined by the instructor. It has nothing but an extrinsic motive back of it, namely, meeting the demands of the teacher. For the pupil himself it has no intrinsic motive or purpose impelling him to its accomplishment, and hence it has no real dynamic character and no intellectual value. Normally the motor process should be relevant to a problem. It may be either the concrete expression of the solution of some problem, or it may be a stimulus to the conception of a new problem whose solution, in turn, calls for further observation and for further intellectual activities.

If the child in the manual training room smooths the runner of his sled because he sees that this is a necessity in order to have the sled run easily and rapidly, then the motor process is functioning normally within the larger whole to which it belongs. If the child's drawing tells a story, or conveys a thought of his own, the motor activities involved are relevant and not arbitrary. And, if he finally comes to the point where he sees that his crude drawings are not adequate to the proper expression of his thought, even practice in the technique of drawing may be felt to be relevant; for it is seen to be necessary to the accomplishment of his end in the long run. In these illustrations, motor activity is vital through its felt necessity in the concrete realization of the solution of a problem.

But motor processes, as has already been stated, may also become the stimulus to the conception of new problems. For example, the child who is engaged in the process of weaving with cotton will learn that the seeds have to be