{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_57243/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_57243","id":"gutenberg_57243","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/57243","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Thought and thinking"],"text":"Produced by Turgut Dincer, RichardW, and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHINKING AS A SCIENCE, BY HENRY HAZLITT\n\n\n\n\n THINKING\n AS A SCIENCE\n\n BY\n HENRY HAZLITT\n\n [Illustration]\n\n NEW YORK\n E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY\n 681 FIFTH AVENUE\n\n\n\n\n Copyright, 1916\n BY E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n        I \u2022 The Neglect of Thinking \u2022 1\n\n         II \u2022 Thinking With Method \u2022 11\n\n              III \u2022 A Few Cautions \u2022 51\n\n                IV \u2022 Concentration \u2022 68\n\n     V \u2022 Prejudice and Uncertainty \u2022 99\n\n     VI \u2022 Debate and Conversation \u2022 129\n\n       VII \u2022 Thinking and Reading \u2022 135\n\n    VIII \u2022 Writing One\u2019s Thoughts \u2022 191\n\n IX \u2022 Things Worth Thinking About \u2022 207\n\n           X \u2022 Thinking as an Art \u2022 237\n\n           XI \u2022 Books on Thinking \u2022 248\n\n\n\n\nTHINKING AS A SCIENCE\n\nI\n\nTHE NEGLECT OF THINKING\n\n\nEvery man knows there are evils in the world which need setting right.\nEvery man has pretty definite ideas as to what these evils are. But\nto most men one in particular stands out vividly. To some, in fact,\nthis stands out with such startling vividness that they lose sight of\nother evils, or look upon them as the natural consequences of their own\nparticular evil-in-chief.\n\nTo the Socialist this evil is the capitalistic system; to the\nprohibitionist it is intemperance; to the feminist it is the subjection\nof women; to the clergyman it is the decline of religion; to Andrew\nCarnegie it is war; to the staunch Republican it is the Democratic\nParty, and so on, _ad infinitum_.\n\nI, too, have a pet little evil, to which in more passionate moments\nI am apt to attribute all the others. This evil is the neglect of\nthinking. And when I say thinking I mean real thinking, independent\nthinking, hard thinking.\n\nYou protest. You say men are thinking more now than they ever were.\nYou bring out the almanac to prove by statistics that illiteracy is\ndeclining. You point to our magnificent libraries. You point to the\nmultiplication of books. You show beyond a doubt that people are\nreading more now than ever before in all history.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nVery well, exactly. That is just the trouble. Most people, when\nconfronted with a problem, immediately acquire an inordinate desire to\n\u201cread-up\u201d on it. When they get stuck mentally, the first thing such\npeople do is to run to a book. Confess it, have you not often been in\na waiting room or a Pullman, noticed people all about you reading, and\nfinding yourself without any reading matter, have you not wished that\nyou had some?\u2014something to \u201coccupy your mind\u201d? And did it ever occur to\nyou that you had within you the power to occupy your mind, and do it\nmore profitably than all those assiduous readers? Briefly, did it ever\noccur to you to _think_?\n\nOf course you \u201cthought\u201d\u2014in a sense. Thinking means a variety of\nthings. You may have looked out of your train window while passing a\nfield, and it may have occurred to you that that field would make an\nexcellent baseball diamond. Then you \u201cthought\u201d of the time when you\nplayed baseball, \u201cthought\u201d of some particular game perhaps, \u201cthought\u201d\nhow you had made a grand stand play or a bad muff, and how one day it\nbegan to rain in the middle of the game, and the team took refuge in\nthe carriage shed. Then you \u201cthought\u201d of other rainy days rendered\nparticularly vivid for some reason or other, or perhaps your mind came\nback to considering the present weather, and how long it was going to\nlast.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. And of course, in one sense you were \u201cthinking.\u201d But when\nI use the word thinking, I mean thinking with a purpose, with an end\nin view, thinking to solve a problem. I mean the kind of thinking that\nis forced on us when we are deciding on a course to pursue, on a life\nwork to take up perhaps; the kind of thinking that was forced on us\nin our younger days when we had to find a solution to a problem in\nmathematics, or when we tackled psychology in college. I do not mean\n\u201cthinking\u201d in snatches, or holding petty opinions on this subject and\non that. I mean thought on significant questions which lie outside the\nbounds of your narrow personal welfare. This is the kind of thinking\nwhich is now so rare\u2014so sadly needed!\n\nOf course before this can be revived we must arouse a desire for it. We\nmust arouse a desire for thinking for its own sake; solving problems\nfor the mere sake of solving problems. But a mere desire for thinking,\npraiseworthy as it is, is not enough. We must know _how_ to think, and\nto that end we must search for those rules and methods of procedure\nwhich will most help us in thinking creatively, originally, and not\nleast of all surely, correctly.\n\nWhen they think at all, the last thing men think about is their\nown thoughts. Every sensible man realizes that the perfection of a\nmechanical instrument depends to some extent upon the perfection of the\ntools with which it is made. No carpenter would expect a perfectly\nsmooth board after using a dented or chipped plane. No gasolene engine\nmanufacturer would expect to produce a good motor unless he had the\nbest lathes obtainable to help him turn out his product. No watchmaker\nwould expect to construct a perfectly accurate timepiece unless he had\nthe most delicate and accurate tools to turn out the cogs and screws.\nBefore any specialist produces an instrument he thinks of the tools\nwith which he is to produce it. But men reflect continually on the\nmost complex problems\u2014problems of vital importance to them\u2014and expect\nto obtain satisfactory solutions, without once giving a thought to\nthe manner in which they go about obtaining those solutions; without\na thought to their own mind, the tool which produces those solutions.\nSurely this deserves at least some systematic consideration.\n\nSome remarks of Ella Wheeler Wilcox under this head will bear quoting:\n\u201cHuman thinking is still in as great a state of disorder and jumble\nas language was before the alphabet, music before the scale was\ndiscovered, printing before Gutenberg, or mathematics before Pythagoras\nformulated its laws.\u201d \u201cThis systematization of all thought,\u201d she tells\nus, would be \u201ca more far reaching improvement than all the others, for\nit will do for education, health, economics, government, etc., what the\nalphabet did for language, movable type for printing and literature,\nthe scale for music, and the rules of arithmetic for calculation. Being\nthe exact counterpart of these in its particular field, its mission,\nlike theirs, will be to bring order out of chaos.\u201d\n\nI believe Miss Wilcox exaggerates matters. Incidentally I for one\ndo not pretend to have discovered anything revolutionary. But the\nimportance of the subject warrants its formulation into as near\nscientific form as we can bring it.\n\nI beg no one to get frightened. Science does not necessarily mean test\ntubes and telescopes. I mean science in its broadest sense; and in\nthis sense it means nothing more than organized knowledge. If we are\nto find rules and methods of procedure, these methods must come from\nsomewhere\u2014must be based on certain principles\u2014and these principles can\ncome only from close, systematic investigation.\n\nIt may indeed be urged that we can think best by disregarding all\n\u201crules,\u201d by not paying any attention to method. But the man who\nmaintains this must give reasons; and once he attempts this he himself\nis bordering closely on the science of the matter. In short, the\nsettlement of even this question is part of the science of thinking.\n\nAnd what is to be the nature of this science?\n\nFor our purposes, all sciences may be divided into two kinds:\n_positive_ and _normative_. A positive science investigates the nature\nof things as they are. It deals simply with matters of fact. Such a\nscience is physics, chemistry, psychology. A normative science is one\nwhich studies things as they ought to be. As the name implies, it\nseeks to establish a _norm_ or pattern which ought to be adhered to.\nIt studies means of reaching desired ends. To this class belong such\nsciences as ethics, education, agriculture.\n\nNow these normative sciences, with the exception of ethics, are nearly\nalways referred to either as \u201carts\u201d or \u201capplied sciences.\u201d To both\nof these terms I technically but strenuously object. I object to the\nterm \u201cart\u201d to designate any set of organized rules for doing a thing,\nbecause \u201cart\u201d also means the actual doing of that thing. And this\nthing may be done, and often is done, in total ignorance of the rules\ngoverning it. A man may possess the art of swimming\u2014he may be able to\nswim\u2014without any previous instruction, without any knowledge of how he\nought to hold his body, arms and legs; just as a dog may do the same\nthing.\n\nI object also to the term \u201capplied science,\u201d because to me this term\nimplies that the science it refers to is based on one positive science\nonly. I can think of no so-called applied science which is so based.\nHygiene, not alone dependent on physiology, must derive some of its\nrules from the chemistry of foods, as well as from the sciences of\nsanitation and ventilation, themselves normative. Agriculture is based\nnot only on biology and botany, but on chemistry and meteorology.\n\nThe science of thinking, then, if such a science there be, is\nnormative. Its purpose is to find those methods which will help us to\nthink constructively and correctly.\n\nOne more distinction and our preliminaries are over. There are two\nother sciences with which the science of thinking is liable to become\nconfused; one positive, the other normative.\n\nThe positive science is that branch of psychology which deals with\nthe reasoning process and examines the basis of belief. We shall make\nfrequent use of this science in trying to find rules for thinking, but\nit will not be the only science we shall use, nor will that science be\nthe subject of this book.\n\nThe normative science with which the science of thinking may become\nconfused is logic. Indeed, logic has sometimes been called the science\nof thinking. Now for our purposes logic is a part of the science of\nthinking, but it is not the part which we are primarily to consider.\nIts function is merely negative; it consists in leading us from\nerror. The part of the science of thinking in which we are interested\ndeals with those positive rules which will help to make us creative\nthinkers.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nOur ship is headed for the port Truth. Our mind is the engine, the\nscience of thinking the propeller, and logic the rudder. Without our\nengine, the mind, the propeller of the science of thinking, which\ntransforms our mental energy most effectively into motion, would be\nuseless. Without the propeller, which gives motion, the rudder of logic\nwould be useless. But all three are needed to reach our goal.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now I must bespeak a little patience. The next chapter, and the one\nfollowing it, are going to deal very largely with method and methods.\nThey will touch on classification, and a lot of other things to which\nthe plain man has an aversion; to which, at least, he usually evinces\nno very active interest. But it is necessary to consider these things\nin order to make our study complete.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHINKING WITH METHOD\n\n\nMost of us, at those rare intervals when we think at all, do so in a\nslipshod sort of way. If we come across a mental difficulty we try to\nget rid of it in almost any kind of hit or miss manner. Even those few\nof us who think occasionally for the mere sake of thinking, generally\ndo so without regard for method\u2014indeed, are often unconscious that\nmethod could be applied to our thought. But what is meant by method? I\nmay best explain by an example.\n\nFrom somewhere or other, a man gets hold of the idea that the proper\nsubjects are not being taught in our schools and colleges. He asks\nhimself what the proper subjects would be. He considers how useless\nhis knowledge of Greek and Latin has been. He decides that these two\nsubjects should be eliminated. Then he thinks how he would have been\nhelped in business by a knowledge of bookkeeping, and he concludes\nthat this subject deserves a place in the curriculum. He has recently\nreceived a letter from a college friend containing some errors in\nspelling. He is convinced that this branch of knowledge is being left\nin undeserved neglect. Or he is impressed by the spread of unsound\ntheories of money among the poorer classes, and he believes that\neverybody should receive a thorough course in economics and finance.\nAnd so he rambles on, now on this subject, now on that.\n\nCompare this haphazard, aimless thinking with that of the man of\nmethod. This man is confronted with the same general situation as our\nfirst thinker, but he makes his problem a different one. He first asks\nhimself what end he has in view. He discovers that he is primarily\ntrying to find out not so much\u2014what subjects should be taught in the\nschools? as\u2014what knowledge is of most worth? He puts the problem\ndefinitely before himself in this latter form. He then sees that the\nproblem\u2014what knowledge is of _most_ worth?, implies that what is\ndesired is not to find what subjects are of worth and what are not, but\nwhat is the _relative_ value of subjects. His next step, obviously,\nis to discover a standard by which the relative value of subjects can\nbe determined; and this, let us say, he finds in the help a knowledge\nof these subjects gives to complete living. Having decided this, he\nnext classifies in the order of their importance the activities which\nconstitute human life, and follows this by classifying subjects as they\nprepare for these activities.[1]\n\nNeedless to say, the results obtained by this thinker will be\ninfinitely more satisfactory than those arrived at by his unsystematic\nbrother. Method, then, is essential. But how are we to apply it in all\ncases?\n\nNow there are methods without number, and in many cases a problem will\nrequire a method all its own; but we here purpose to take up only those\nmost general in application.\n\nBefore considering these methods of thinking, however, it would\nbe well to ask ourselves what thinking is. As stated before, the\nterm is loosely used to cover a wide range of mental processes.\nThese processes we may roughly divide into memory, imagination and\nreasoning. It is the last only with which we have to deal. I admit that\ndevelopment of the memory is desirable. I admit that development of the\nimagination is equally desirable. But they are not the subject of this\nbook. By \u201cthinking\u201d I mean reasoning. And our present purpose is to\nfind the nature of this process.\n\nModern psychologists tell us that all reasoning begins in perplexity,\nhesitation, doubt. \u201cThe process of reasoning is one of problem solving.\n.\u00a0.\u00a0. The occasion for the reasoning is always a thwarted purpose.\u201d[2]\n\nIt is essential we keep this in mind. It differs from the popular\nconception even more than may appear at first sight. _If a man were to\nknow everything he could not think._ Nothing would ever puzzle him, his\npurposes would never be thwarted, he would never experience perplexity\nor doubt, he would have no problems. If we are to conceive of God as an\nAll-Knower, we cannot conceive of Him as a Thinking Being. Thinking is\nreserved for beings of finite intelligence.\n\nWere we to study the origin and evolution of thinking, we would\ndoubtless find that thinking arose in just this way\u2014from thwarted\npurposes. If our lives and the lives of our animal ancestors had always\nrun smoothly, if our every desire were immediately satisfied, if we\nnever met an obstacle in anything we tried to do, thinking would never\nhave appeared on this planet. But adversity forced us to it.\n\nTickle a frog\u2019s left leg, and his right leg will immediately fly up\nand scratch it. The action is merely what psychologists would call a\n\u201creflex.\u201d Absolutely no thinking takes place: the frog would do the\nsame thing if you removed its brain. And if you tickle its right leg\nits left leg would fly up to scratch. But if you tickled both legs\nat once they could not both fly up and scratch each other. It would\nbe a physical impossibility. Here, then, is a difficulty. The frog\nhesitates; thinking steps upon the scene. After mature deliberation the\nfrog solves his problem: he holds his left leg still while he scratches\nit with his right, then he holds his right leg still and scratches\nthat with his left.\n\nWe cannot, then, think on \u201cgeneral principles.\u201d To try this is like\nattempting to chew laughing gas. To think at all requires a purpose,\nno matter how vague. The best thinking, however, requires a definite\npurpose, and the more definite this purpose the more definite will be\nour thinking. Therefore in taking up any special line of thought, we\nmust first find just what our end or purpose is, and thus get clearly\nin mind what our problems are.\n\nAdvising a man to ask himself what his problems are may seem absurd.\nBut it is just this confusion as to what they want to know which\nhas driven men into error time and time again. The history of the\nnever-ending philosophical controversy between \u201cmaterialism\u201d and\n\u201cidealism\u201d is largely a history of different ways of stating the issue;\nthe progress made is mainly due to the increasing definiteness with\nwhich it has been stated.\n\nOne of the most frequent sources of confusion in stating questions\nis in failure to distinguish between what is and what ought to be.\nConsidering woman suffrage a man will ask himself \u201cWhat is woman\u2019s\nsphere?,\u201d when he really wants to know not what woman\u2019s sphere actually\nis, but what it ought to be. Our first step, then, is to get our\nproblem or problems clearly in mind, and to state them as definitely as\npossible. A problem properly stated is a problem partly solved.\n\nWhat we will do next depends on the nature of the question. In the\nexample \u201cWhat knowledge is of most worth?\u201d we proceeded to look for\na criterion of worthiness. And this was really a re-stating of the\nquestion. For instead of asking ourselves \u201cWhat knowledge is of most\nworth?,\u201d we began asking \u201cWhat knowledge best prepares for complete\nliving?\u201d\n\nOur next move was to classify. This is essential not only to systematic\nreasoning but to thinking of any kind. Classification is the process\nof grouping objects according to common qualities. But as almost all\nobjects differ in some qualities and almost all have some qualities\nin common, it follows that, contrary to common belief, _there is no\none classification absolutely essential to any group of objects_. An\ninfinite number of classifications may be made, because every object\nhas an infinite number of attributes, depending on the aspect we take\nof it. Nor is any one aspect of a thing \u201ctruer\u201d than any other. The\naspect we take depends entirely on the purpose we have in mind or the\nproblem we wish to solve. As William James pointed out:\n\n\u201cNow that I am writing it is essential that I conceive my paper as a\nsurface for inscription. If I failed to do that I should have to stop\nmy work. But if I wished to light a fire and no other materials were\nby, the essential way of conceiving the paper would be as combustible\nmaterial; and I need then have no thought of any of its other\ndestinations. It is really all that it is: a combustible, a writing\nsurface, a thin thing, a hydrocarbonaceous thing, a thing eight inches\none way and ten another, a thing just one furlong east of a certain\nstone in my neighbor\u2019s field, an American thing, etc., etc., _ad\ninfinitum_.\u201d[3]\n\nAnd if the reader insist that these qualities are merely \u201caccidental,\u201d\nand that what the thing really is, is just _paper_ and nothing else,\nthe reply is that the reader is intellectually petrified; that though\n\u201cpaper\u201d may be our commonest title for it and may suggest our usual\npurpose with it, yet that purpose and this title and the properties\nwhich this title suggest have in reality nothing sacramental about them.\n\nSo because you have classified something from one aspect do not\nimagine that you are necessarily precluded from classifying it from\nany other. A man who is studying the theory of money may divide the\nmedium of exchange into standard money and credit currency. But this\nneed not keep him from viewing it as coins, government notes, and\nbank currency, nor should it prevent him from classifying it into,\nsay (1) hand-to-hand money, (2) written or printed orders of one\nparty to pay specified sums to another, and (3) book accounts.[4]\nAll these classifications will be true; all may be useful for a full\ncomprehension. Every classification should of course be logical; but it\nis far more essential that it be utilizable.\n\nAnd while we are treating of utility, we might note that this\n_pragmatic_ method can be applied with profit to nearly all our\npositive problems. Before starting to solve a question\u2014while deciding,\nfor instance, on the validity of some nice distinction in logic\u2014we\nshould ask ourselves, \u201cWhat practical difference will it make if\nI hold one opinion or the other? How will my belief influence my\naction?\u201d\u2014(using the word \u201caction\u201d in its broadest sense). This may\noften lead our line of inquiry into more fruitful channels, keep\nus from making fine but needless distinctions, help us to word our\nquestion more relevantly, and lead us to make distinctions where we\nreally need them.\n\nWe are now ready to consider in order a number of constructive methods\nin thinking.\n\nOne method applicable to almost all problems is what we may call\neither the _deductive_ or the _\u00e0 priori_ method. This method reaches a\nconclusion without observation or experiment. It consists in reasoning\nfrom previous experience or from established principles to particular\nfacts. It may, however, be used to confirm observation and experiment\nas well as to take their place. Take the all important questions in\nbiology of whether or not specific characteristics acquired by an\nanimal during its life time are inherited by offspring. The a priori\nmethod would examine the structures of the body, the germ plasm from\nwhich the offspring develops, and the relation between them, and would\nask just how a specific change in the body could affect the germ. If it\nwere found that the tissues that are to continue the race were set off\nso completely from the structures of the body as to make inconceivable\nany manner by which they could be influenced by changes in these\nstructures, then this method would decide that acquired characteristics\nare not transmitted.\n\nLet us take another example. Both the supporters and opponents of\nwoman suffrage have often decided the question without consulting at\nall the actual results achieved in the States where women vote. They\nhave settled the question to their own satisfaction merely on a priori\ngrounds. They have considered woman\u2019s supposed mental qualities as\ncompared with man\u2019s, and have decided on her fitness for the ballot\nsolely from these considerations. It must be remembered, however, that\nbefore women were admitted to suffrage anywhere, deductive or a priori\nreasoning was the only kind possible.\n\nIt is often helpful to look at a problem from the viewpoint of\ndifferent sciences. A problem in political science will very likely\nhave an economic aspect, whether it concerns taxation, tariff, trusts\nor the ownership of land, and so we may look at the question solely\nfrom the viewpoint of economics. But the problem may also have an\nethical aspect. If it is proposed to pass a universal prohibition law,\nyou may ask, \u201cHas the Government the right to interfere in this way\nwith personal liberty?\u201d Again, we could take a psychological view: we\nwould decide from our knowledge of human nature just what the effect of\nan alcohol prohibition law would be\u2014whether it would not drive men to\neven more dangerous drugs, such as morphine and opium.\n\nAnd now we come to a whole host of effective methods, all of which may\nbe classed as comparative. The comparative method is as old as thought\nitself, but it is strange that even scientists did not begin to use\nit consciously and consistently until almost the present generation.\nNowhere is it better illustrated than in modern psychology. Most of\nthe so-called branches of psychology are merely different forms of the\ncomparative method of treatment. \u201cAbnormal psychology\u201d is merely a\ncomparison of abnormal mental types with normal mental types for the\nlight they throw on each other. \u201cChild study\u201d is a comparison of the\nmind of the child with that of the adult. \u201cAnimal psychology\u201d is a\ncomparison of the actions of animals with each other and with those of\nman. And none of these methods is of any value except in so far as it\nmakes use of comparison.\n\nOften consciously used in the consideration of problems is the\nso-called historical method. This method, as its name implies, consists\nin obtaining knowledge of a thing by considering its past record. The\nword history is popularly used in so narrow a sense, however, being\nrestricted only to the history of nations, and often merely to the\npolitical history of nations, that we can avoid confusion by calling\nthis method the evolutionary. In the final analysis the method is\ncomparative, for it really consists in comparing a thing at one period\nof development with itself at another period.\n\nLet us take our example from political science. The historical\nmethod, in its popular sense, has been so much used here, even to the\nexclusion of other methods, that it would seem needless to speak of\nit. But often the method has been abused and often it has not been\ngiven broad enough treatment. It traces the growth of an institution,\nor of an idea\u2014personal liberty, say,\u2014through successive periods.\nIt notes what the path has been, and judges of the probable future\ntendency. But a far broader outlook than we get from this narrowly\nconceived \u201chistorical\u201d method is furnished by evolutionary sociology.\nHere we inquire into the origin of society and of the various trades,\nindustries, professions and pursuits of all kinds, and to do this we go\nfar into prehistoric times.\n\nNowhere is the evolutionary method more strikingly seen than in\nbiology. Since Darwin\u2019s great theory was promulgated the science has\ngone forward by leaps and bounds. We have derived untold benefit from\na comparison of man and animals in the light of this hypothesis;\neven study of the development of individual man has been aided. The\ndiscovery of the _fact_ of evolution constituted an incalculable\nadvance, but the method for study which it furnished was of even\ngreater importance.\n\nI have spoken of the comparison of man and animals \u201cin the light of\nthis (evolutionary) hypothesis.\u201d This brings us to a point which must\nbe kept in mind in practically all observation. We are often exhorted\nto \u201cobserve.\u201d Presumably we are to do this \u201con general principles.\u201d\nSuch advice is about as foolish as asking us to think on general\nprinciples. Imagine for the moment what would happen if you started\nright now to \u201cobserve\u201d as much as you could. You might begin with this\nbook and notice the size of the type, the amount of margin, the quality\nof the paper, the dimensions of the page, the number of pages. But\nyou have by no means exhausted the number of properties possessed by\nthis book. You must observe that it is also combustible, that it is\ndestructible, that it is machine made, that it is American printed,\nthat it is such and such a price, that it weighs so many ounces,\nthat it is flat, that it is rectangular, that its thickness is so\nmuch.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nThe absurdity is obvious. If we started out merely to observe, with no\ndefinite purpose in mind, we could keep it up forever. And get nowhere.\nNine out of every ten observations would never be put to use. We would\nbe sinfully wasting our time. To observe most profitably, just as to\nthink most profitably, we must have a definite purpose. This purpose\nmust be _to test the truth of a supposition_. A concrete example will\nmake this clear.\n\nA man has been shipwrecked on an island and believes himself to be\nalone there. One day, as he is walking along the beach, he discovers\nfootprints. How did they get there? His first assumption is that they\nare his own. It occurs to him, however, that he had not been near this\nspot for over a week, and that yesterday\u2019s storm would have washed any\nfootprints away. This objection is confirmed by making a footprint\nhimself and comparing it with the one observed, and noticing that they\ndiffer markedly. The footprints being those of some one else, how did\nthe man who made them get there? The first supposition is that he\ncame in a boat. The idea of a small boat is dismissed because of the\nassumed great distance of this island from other land. Therefore the\nman must have come in a large vessel. But the footprints lead to a wet\npart of the sand and the tide is just going down. In this case they\nare very recent\u2014made not more than a half hour ago. This being so the\nman who made them could not have had time to get back to any ship and\nsail out of sight. If he came in a ship it should be still in view. The\ndiscoverer of the footprints climbs a tree from which he can view the\nsea around the entire island. He can sight no vessel. The supposition\nor hypothesis that the unknown came in a ship is abandoned. Then the\nsuggestion comes that the unknown has been on the island during the\nentire time that the shipwrecked man thought himself alone. This\nsuggestion is tested in a manner similar to the others.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nThe example sums up roughly the general process of all thought, and\nbrings out the motive and value of observation. Let us analyze it.\n\nThe first thing to happen is the arousal of a feeling of perplexity,\nthe appearance of a problem. The man has been shambling along,\ndoubtless \u201cthinking\u201d in that loose sense referred to. He has perhaps\nkicked several stones loose that would have set a geologist worrying,\nand has picked branches from bushes which would have puzzled a\nbotanist. But this man has not had his curiosity aroused until he has\ncome to these footprints. His thinking starts with his perplexity.\nAfter this doubt has been aroused the most obvious solution suggests\nitself\u2014\u201cmy own footprints.\u201d But if true, this suggestion involves the\nco-existence of other facts, some of which are known and some of which\nmay be determined. Thus, _if_ they were his own footprints, it must,\namong other things, necessarily follow (1) that he had been at that\nspot before, (2) that nothing had happened since that time to remove\nthe prints, (3) that the footprints corresponded to his own. The first\nconsequence involved\u2014that he had been there before\u2014was a fact, but\nthe others were not, and so the suggestion was dropped. Then a second\nhypothesis occurred\u2014\u201cthe man came in a ship\u201d\u2014and this was tried out\nin a similar way. Notice that in each case the consequences dependent\non the truth of the suggestion are tried out (1) by memory, (2) by\nobservation or experiment. Memory came when he thought of the last time\nhe had walked near the beach and of yesterday\u2019s storm. Observation came\nwhen he compared his footprint with the one seen, when he followed the\nfootprints along the sand and noticed where they led, when he climbed a\ntree and looked for a ship. There were a number of other things which\nhe could have observed. He might have noticed the texture of the sand,\nwhat kind of a tree he was climbing, what sort of clouds were in the\nsky. But he did not observe these interesting things simply because\nthey would throw no light on the truth or falsity of his supposition.\nIn another problem one of these facts might have been of value.\n\nIt is almost possible to sum up the whole process of thinking as the\noccurrence of suggestions for the solution of difficulties and the\ntesting out of those suggestions. The suggestions or suppositions\nare tested by observation, memory, experiment. Supposition and\nobservation alternate. The first facts observed\u2014in the case foregoing,\nthe footprints\u2014make the problem, they suggest the supposition. A\nsupposition is that the man came in a boat. _If_ the man came in a boat\nsuch and such would be the case\u2014the boat would still be visible, etc.\nIf the boat is not visible the supposition is given up and another one\nmade; if the boat is visible the supposition is confirmed. This is a\ncase of simple and rudimentary thinking, but it illustrates roughly the\nprocess of thought on even the most complicated problems of science.\nThe methods we have been discussing may all be considered simply as\nmeans for helping good suggestions occur to us.\n\nLet us illustrate by considering a few methods of rather restricted\napplication. We are often aided in the solution of a problem by asking\nits opposite. If we ask ourselves \u201cWhat constitutes gracefulness?\u201d we\nmay find ourselves at a loss for suggestions, because gracefulness\nalways seems \u201cso natural.\u201d But if we ask its opposite, \u201cWhat\nconstitutes awkwardness?,\u201d suggestions are more apt to occur. If we\nfind, for instance, that awkwardness consists in undue bodily effort\nin making a movement, we may assume that gracefulness consists in ease\nof movement. In the same way the question of what makes us forget may\nbe helped by asking ourselves what makes us remember, and light may be\nthrown on the causes of success in business and in life by a study of\nthe causes of failure.\n\nThe method of analogy likewise encourages suggestions. Analogy consists\nin noting certain likenesses between things, and assuming that they\nalso possess other common qualities. Striking use of analogy is made\nin dealing with the planet Mars. At each pole there are great white\npatches. The size of these varies markedly with the seasons, which\nsuggests that like the earth, Mars has great areas of ice and snow at\nits two poles which melt and re-form. The general surface is reddish,\nbut three-eighths of it is covered by blue-green tracts, and these are\nusually inferred to be seas. These again are connected by an intricate\nsystem of blue-green lines, which some scientists believe to be\ncanals, but on this there is much controversy. In Mars we have at once\nan illustration of the possibilities and dangers of analogy.\n\nIn the whole discussion of constructive method thus far, I have left\nout the two most common and useful methods of all. The first of\nthese we may designate by a somewhat formidable title: _empirical\nobservation_. Empirical, at least for our present purposes, means\nmerely that which comes within experience. But the term is generally\nopposed to scientific. Thus Dewey gives an example: \u201cA says, \u2018It will\nprobably rain to-morrow.\u2019 B asks, \u2018Why do you think so?\u2019 And A replies,\n\u2018Because the sky was lowering at sunset.\u2019 When B asks, \u2018What has that\nto do with it?\u2019 A responds, \u2018I do not know, but it generally does rain\nafter such a sunset.\u2019 He does not perceive any _connection_ between\nthe appearance of the sky and the coming rain; he is not aware of any\ncontinuity in the facts themselves\u2014any law or principle, as we usually\nsay. He simply, from frequently recurring conjunction of the events,\nhas associated them so that when he sees one he thinks of the other.\u201d[5]\n\nThis, however, is not what I mean to imply by the term empirical\nobservation. I mean rather thinking on the basis merely of facts\nwhich occur in the natural course of events, which have not been\nsystematically produced by ourselves or others for the purpose\nof solving a problem. Logicians usually call this method simply\n_observation_, and oppose it to experiment. But I object to calling\nthis simply observation because experiment itself is really\nobservation, only in one case we observe merely events which happen to\noccur, and in the other we observe the results of events _which we have\nmade occur_. The true way of distinguishing these two methods would\nbe to call one _empirical observation_, and the other _experimental\nobservation_.\n\nThis empirical method\u2014if indeed I am justified in calling it a\n_method_\u2014is the most common in all thinking. To give examples of it\nwould be to show how men generally think. But the method has real\nvalue, and may even be the most important of all, for if we thought\nwithout it our ideas would doubtless be original, but very dangerous.\nLet us apply it to some of the problems considered under other methods.\n\nEmpirical observation is used where experiment is impossible\u2014often,\nunfortunately, where experiment is merely inconvenient. In political\nscience the empirical method would consist in noting the effect of\ncertain laws,\u2014e.g., tariffs of different countries and of the same\ncountry at different periods\u2014and noting economic conditions at the time\nthe different tariffs were in effect. Allowance would be made for other\nfactors which could influence the country\u2019s economic condition and the\neffect of the tariff could then be determined.\n\nThe empirical method of dealing with meteorology, the science of\nweather, would consist in making a study of cloud formations, wind\nvelocity, moisture in the air, temperature, etc., and noting what\nconditions usually or perhaps invariably followed certain of these\nconditions. From this, conclusions could be drawn as to what weather\nto expect following certain conditions.\n\nBut valuable as empirical observation is, and often as we must use it,\nit should never be employed when we can experiment. When the empirical\nmethod is rightly used allowance always has to be made for certain\nirrelevant factors. But \u201cmaking allowances\u201d is always sheer guess\nwork. _The experimental method consists not in making allowances for\ncertain factors, but in eliminating those factors._ In our example\nfrom political science experiment is practically impossible, because\nthe factors which may influence economic conditions are innumerable,\nand even were they few, no country could survive the dangers of being\nexperimented upon\u2014to say nothing of its permitting it. Experiment is\nsimilarly impossible in dealing with weather conditions directly. It is\nimpossible in astronomy.\n\nBut it could be applied quite easily to most questions. Suppose you\nwanted to determine beyond question which of two methods of teaching a\ngiven subject was the better. We shall assume for the moment that you\nhave unlimited time and money to experiment. It may be thought that\nwe could settle this simply by teaching one person according to one\nmethod and another person according to the other, and that we could\ndetermine the relative merits of each method from the progress made by\neach pupil. This, however, would be practically of no use whatever.\nOne pupil might be naturally brighter than the other, and so would\nnaturally learn quicker, even were he taught by an inferior method.\n\nTo make the experiment of any use we should first take two _groups_\nof pupils\u2014the larger the better. For it is obvious that if we take a\ngreat number of pupils and place them in two groups the differences\nbetween the individuals will tend to offset one another. Let us say the\nsubject is one in which the progress can be quantitatively measured,\nsay typewriting, and let us suppose there are fifty pupils in each\ngroup. If after a given time _all_ the pupils in one group had attained\na greater speed with accuracy than _all_ the pupils in the other,\nthe test would be almost unquestionable. This would be even more\nconclusive if the groups were reasonably well balanced. For if all of\none group were men and all of the other were boys, the men might make\nmore rapid progress than the boys even with a less efficient system.\nBut it should be easy to divide classes and groups so as to have a\nreasonable balance of intelligence between them. The probable result\nof any experiment would be that in neither class would all the pupils\nmake more progress than all the pupils of the other, though you might\nfind that the preponderating majority in one class improved faster than\nthose in the other, and this would probably be sufficient to indicate\nthe superiority of one method, even though one or two pupils in the\nsecond group progressed faster than one or two in the first.\n\nI say \u201cprobably\u201d because there are still many irrelevant factors which\nmight influence the result. For instance, if you had a different\nteacher for each group, one group might make greater progress not\nbecause of the method but because of the teacher. This means either\nthat one teacher should teach both groups, or that we should multiply\nthe number of groups and the number of teachers, and have half the\nteachers teaching half the groups by one method, and the other half\nteaching by the other method. Of course here too the more we could\nmultiply the number the better it would be. Even then there might be\nsome reasonable question as to the validity of the experiment, for it\nmight be that one method would tend to encourage faster progress at\nthe beginning, but that the other would lead to greater progress in\nthe long run. This could be determined only by carrying our experiment\nover a long period. And we might still have irrelevant factors, for the\nmachines on which one group learnt to typewrite might be superior to\nthose on which the other group learnt, and this factor would have to be\neliminated in a similar way to the others.\n\nThe experimental method has been well summed up by Thomson and Tait in\ntheir _Natural Philosophy_:\n\n\u201cIn all cases when a particular agent or cause is to be studied,\nexperiments should be arranged in such a way as to lead if possible\nto results depending on it alone; or, if this cannot be done, they\nshould be arranged so as to increase the effects due to the cause to be\nstudied till these so far exceed the unavoidable concomitants, that the\nlatter may be considered as only disturbing, not essentially modifying\nthe effects of the principal agent.\u201d\n\nIn all experiments one must exercise ingenuity in finding other causes\nbesides the one to be studied which may possibly influence a result,\nand in eliminating these. It might benefit the reader considerably if\nhe were to think out for himself how he would apply experiment in its\nmost thoroughgoing form to solve a given question, say the inheritance\nof acquired characteristics.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI have now cited enough methods to at least indicate what \u201cthinking\nwith method\u201d means. To satisfy a certain human craving all of these\nhave been named, though sometimes arbitrarily. Of course each may have\nto be modified to some extent to adjust it to different problems. I\nmust repeat: there are methods numberless, and some problems will\nrequire methods all their own.\n\nBut what is important is that every problem should be dealt with by\nas many methods as possible. Doubtless you have used, at some time or\nother in the course of your thinking, nearly every one of the methods\nI have so far suggested. But the point is not that you have never used\nthese methods at all, but that you have not used them often enough. You\nwere unaware what method you were using. Consequently you used it only\noccasionally. You used it only when you stumbled on it accidentally. To\nformulate methods is to bring them to your attention, so that you may\nuse them always, thoroughly, correctly, consistently.\n\nWe have treated political science from most angles. We have applied\nmore than one method to several other problems. To still further\nclarify, exemplify and impress this point, I shall show the application\nof method to one more subject.\n\nSuppose you wanted to invent a system of shorthand, and wanted to make\nit as perfect as possible. How would you go about it?\n\nYour first step should be to restate your question most advantageously.\nYou want to create certain characters or symbols, which will (1) take\nthe shortest time to write, (2) will be easily recognized by yourself\nor others, even if written carelessly, and (3) which will not be so\nnumerous or so complex as to be difficult to learn. You may decide that\nsuch symbols would have even further requirements. Next you should\ndecide on the methods to use in attacking your problem\u2014this in order\nnot to forget any. Now assume you have decided on these methods and\nthat the first is the a priori. Your conclusion might be that it would\nbe impossible to have a different symbol for every word, and that it\nis necessary to have some sort of alphabet. Should this alphabet be\nbased on that used in longhand? That is, should merely a simpler symbol\nstand in place of each letter? Or should a different symbol represent\neach sound? Or would it be possible to have a different elementary\nsymbol for each syllable? Having decided the basis for your symbols or\ncharacters, you will know at least approximately the number required.\nYour problem will then become that of making the characters as simple\nas possible, so that they may be written most quickly; and yet as\ndifferent from each other as possible so that if written carelessly\n(as they will be when written swiftly), they may be easily recognized.\nYou might try writing down all the simplest symbols you can think of.\nOr you might ask yourself whether there is any fundamental geometrical\nfigure from which you can derive your symbols. Or you might study the\nsimplest and easiest movements of the hand, and base your characters on\nthese.\n\nThis a priori method is most apt of all to provoke real thinking. It\nshould therefore be taken up before any of the others. Not only is it\nbest for making you think deeply, but it will be more likely than any\nof the others to make you think originally. However, whether attended\nby great or little success, this method should be followed by others.\n\nNot the least fruitful of these would be the evolutionary. This, of\ncourse, would consist in studying the history of shorthand, finding out\nthe direction in which it has been tending, and thus anticipating in\nsome degree its future development. As this method is comparative we\nwould naturally be led from it to comparing the shorthand systems of\nto-day, and assaying the good and bad qualities of each. These could\nonly be assayed if we knew something of shorthand theory, and thus our\nexperience with the deductive or a priori method would be of service.\n\nImplied in here is a method of different nature than any we have yet\ndiscussed, but one of immense help. In turning from the deductive\nmethod to a study of shorthand systems which others have developed,\nyou have an opportunity to compare the results of your own thinking\nwith those obtained by others. If you have failed to solve the question\nin as good a manner as these others, you can ask yourself wherein and\nwhy your own reflections and ingenuity fell short. If you follow this\nmethod with all problems\u2014i.e., thinking a thing out for yourself before\nlooking up what others have thought\u2014you will soon improve your thinking\nsurprisingly. The method is capable of application in every problem,\nfrom inventing an adding machine to trying to find how the plumber got\nthat $3.46 on the bill.\n\nBut to return to shorthand. We still have the empirical and\nexperimental methods. In this particular case the difference between\nthem would be simply one of degree. We could find, for instance, what\nsystems were used by the fastest shorthand writers; but we could get\nnothing conclusive from this, for we would have to make allowance for\nthe natural ability and length of training of these writers. From\nmerely looking at two outlines or characters, it is often difficult to\ntell which can be written faster. This could only be tested by writing\nhundreds in a row and finding the time it took to write the same number\nof each. Of course such experiment is capable of indefinite expansion.\n\nIn dealing with method heretofore, I have at times come dangerously\nnear to making a false assumption. I have been talking as if a man\nwho took up political science, shorthand, or any other subject, were\ndealing with only one problem. As a matter of fact he is dealing with\na whole series of problems. Just how many it is difficult to say,\nbecause no problem worthy of the name is an indivisible unit, and\nmay always be broken into smaller problems. The whole science of\n\u00e6sthetics is included in the simple question \u201cWhat is beauty?\u201d, the\nscience of ethics is merely the answer to \u201cWhat is right conduct?\u201d,\nand metaphysics may be reduced to the problem \u201cWhat is reality?\u201d But\nwhen we come to deal with any of these we instinctively break them up\ninto smaller and more concrete problems, making the treatment easier,\njust as a general attempts to split his enemy\u2019s forces, so that he can\nannihilate one section at a time. Often, indeed, the very division of\nthe larger problem into smaller problems constitutes its solution, for\nwe finally come to a problem which practically answers itself, and\nwhich we recognize as being included in, or a particular form of, some\nmore general problem to which we already know the answer.\n\nA man sets before himself the question, \u201cWhat is the proper sphere of\nGovernment?\u201d Perhaps he will first of all consider certain different\nspecific activities which might possibly be supposed to come within\nthe sphere of governmental interference. He might ask himself, for\ninstance, \u201cShould the Government interfere with freedom of contract?\u201d\nNotice that he has here temporarily made his problem narrower, he has\nchosen to break it up in order to deal with it part by part. But even\nwhen he came to cope with this smaller problem he would probably find\nit necessary to break this up, and he would therefore take a specific\nexample. Suppose a man works for so much an hour, and that nine hours\u2019\nwork a day gives him the minimum amount on which he can live and\nsupport his family. Would it be wise to limit the legal working day of\nsuch a man to eight hours? This problem practically answers itself,\nand so further division is unnecessary. Of course the answer to this\ndoes not determine the answer to the original question, for other parts\nstill remain to be considered.\n\nIn fact, much of the success of our thinking will depend upon just how\nwe divide our big problems into subsidiary problems, and just what our\nsubsidiary or subordinate problems are. This will depend to some extent\non our own natural sagacity, and to some extent on mere chance. No\nrigid rules can be laid down. The only advice which can be offered is\nthat when a thinker breaks up a problem he should do so with an eye to\nutility and definiteness.\n\nJohn Stuart Mill, in an essay on Jeremy Bentham, pointed out that the\nsecret of the latter\u2019s strength and originality of thought lay in his\nmethod, which \u201cmay be shortly described as the method of detail; of\ntreating wholes by separating them into their parts, abstractions by\nresolving them into things,\u2014classes and generalities by distinguishing\nthem into the individuals of which they are made up; and breaking every\nquestion into pieces before attempting to solve it.\u201d The method was not\nabsolutely original with Bentham, but \u201cwhatever originality there was\nin the method, in the subjects he applied it to, and in the rigidity\nwith which he adhered to it, there was the greatest.\u201d\n\nThe systematic thinker is careful of the manner in which he marshals\nhis difficulties. He knows that certain problems should properly be\nconsidered before certain others, and he saves himself labor and\nsometimes error by considering them in that order. Before asking\nhimself how Government should cure a given social evil, he first asks\nwhether it is the duty or even the right of the State to attend to\nthat particular evil at all. In other words, before asking what the\nState should do in any particular case, he considers first what the\nproper sphere of government is. It must be admitted that a previous\nquestion often cannot be discovered until one has actually attempted\nthe solution of a problem. In the foregoing instance, it would be\ndifficult to determine the proper sphere of government by any other\nmethod than a consideration of particular cases where government\ninterference suggests itself.\n\nIn fact, it is only by deep reflection on a subject that we come to\nrealize most of the problems involved. You walk along the road with\nyour friend the botanist and he stops to pick what looks to you to be\na common wild flower. \u201cHm,\u201d he muses, \u201cI wonder how that got in this\npart of the country?\u201d Now that is no problem to you, simply because\nyou do not happen to know why that particular flower should _not_ be\nthere\u2014and what men do not know about they take for granted. Knowledge\nfurnishes problems, and the discovery of problems itself constitutes an\nintellectual advance.\n\nWhenever you are thrashing out a subject, write down every problem,\ndifficulty and objection that occurs to you. When you get what you\nconsider a satisfactory solution, see whether or not it answers all of\nthem.\n\nI have stated that method is essential to good thinking. I have given\nrules and examples of methodic thinking. But I do not want to create\na false impression. If a man has not within him the materials of a\nthinker, no amount of method can make him one. Half the thinking\nprocess, as pointed out, depends on the occurrence of suggestions. The\noccurrence of suggestions depends on how ideas are associated in a\nman\u2019s mind. While this depends to some extent on the education and the\nwhole past life and environment of the individual, it depends far more\non inborn mental qualities. All method can do is to awaken the most\nfruitful associations of ideas already in mind. Hence the more methods\nwe adopt\u2014the greater the number of views we take of any problem\u2014the\nmore solutions will suggest themselves.\n\nThere is one further reason why we should take as many different\nviewpoints as possible. In our example of the inheritance of acquired\ncharacteristics in animals, if we had been sure that the results of our\ndeductive reasoning were correct, it would have been a sinful waste of\ntime to experiment. But when we attack a problem by several methods we\ncan compare the results from each. If these results agree we have good\nevidence that our solution is correct. But if we have adopted quite a\nnumber of viewpoints, and have not let the results of one influence\nthose of the next, they are almost certain to be at variance. This\nmeans that we have erred in applying one or several methods. How are\nwe to find which of the methods it was, and how are we to prevent such\nerrors?\n\nThis is the subject of our next chapter.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nA FEW CAUTIONS\n\n\nThus far we have considered only positive and constructive thinking,\nand means for obtaining relevant suggestions. We have had almost\nnothing to do with cautions, means for avoiding fallacy and error, and\nmeans for testing the truth and value of suggestions. Most writers who\nhave discussed thinking have dwelt so much on the negative aspect\u2014so\nmuch on what we should not do\u2014and have so slighted the question of\nwhat we should do, that I have perhaps been led to adopt this order,\nmore from a feeling of revolt than because it is logically better. But\nI believe I have logic on my side. Constructive methods make thinking\n\u201cgo\u201d; cautions steer it in the right path. An automobile without a\nsteering gear is almost as useless as one without a motor. But an\nautomobile can go without being steered, whereas it cannot be steered\nunless it is going.\n\nBut while with automobiles we can clearly divide moving from steering,\nwe cannot do this with thinking. The two processes are so inextricably\nbound up, that we cannot engage in one without engaging in the other;\nwe cannot even speak of one without implying the other. I have divided\nthem for convenience of exposition. But in the last chapter we were\nforced to deal slightly with cautions, and here we shall have to\nconsider constructive methods to some extent.\n\nA case in point is classification. In taking this up from a\nconstructive standpoint, I remarked that all classifications ought to\nbe logical. But I did not say what I meant by logical, nor did I tell\nhow a logical classification could be secured. The two most prominent\nerrors made in classifying are (1) not making classifications mutually\nexclusive, (2) not making them cover all the objects or phenomena\nsupposed to be classified.\n\nThe first error is the less common, for though occurring among all\nthinkers, it is comparatively infrequent among those who proceed with\ncaution. It is, moreover, more easily discovered than the second.\nConsider the classification of constructive methods into comparison,\nobservation, and experiment. It is apparent that these methods overlap.\nWe cannot compare without observing, much of our observation involves\ncomparison, when we experiment we must of course observe the results\nobtained, and the results are usually always compared. All three\nmethods could be classed under observation. It is well to remember,\nhowever, that the first classification may be useful\u2014even more so than\none strictly logical, and that the nature of a subject will often make\nimpracticable, divisions which do not overlap in some degree.\n\nThe second error\u2014that of not making a classification cover all the\nobjects or phenomena it is supposed to cover\u2014is not so easy to\ndetect. It is one to which the greatest philosophers have been heir.\nSome of our Socialist friends say there are but two kinds of people:\ncapitalists and laborers, \u201cthe people who live on others and the people\nwho are lived on.\u201d They overlook that class of farmers who own a little\npiece of land and do their own tilling. Even if they insist that such a\nclass \u201cis rapidly becoming extinct,\u201d the fact remains that it is still\nwith us and must be taken into account.\n\nAll classifications are made with a certain number of facts in mind,\nand fortunate is he who happens to have just the right facts. We cannot\nhold many facts in mind at once, and we often generalize upon thousands\nof things by taking a supposedly representative dozen. To avoid error\nall we can do is to keep constantly on the lookout for examples,\nespecially those which apparently will not fit into our generalization.\nIf they go in without straining anything, our classification receives\nadded warrant. But sometimes you will find that where you have three\nclasses a new fact will necessitate a fourth, and that often it will\noverturn your whole beautiful structure.\n\nThere is another phase of thinking, which while chiefly cautionary, is\nalso in part constructive. We have so often been warned to \u201cavoid the\ntreachery of words\u201d and to \u201cdefine all our terms\u201d that a repetition\nof the advice seems unnecessary. But we cannot overlook the excellent\ncounsel of Blaise Pascal. He urges that we not only define our terms,\nbut that whenever we use them we mentally substitute the definition.\nHowever, this needs to be qualified. If every time we used a term we\nstopped to substitute its definition, our thought might be exact but\nwould hardly move forward very rapidly. It will usually be sufficient\nsimply to substitute the definition a few times, for after doing this\nwe shall gradually come to know exactly what we mean by a term, and\nfurther substitution would merely waste time. Of course, all this need\nbe applied only to terms new, technical or equivocal; or those used in\na mooted proposition.\n\nI have spoken of analogy as a constructive method. This, however,\nshould be used only for suggestion, for it is most dangerous. Often\nwe use an analogy and are quite unaware of it. Thus many social\nand political thinkers have called society an \u201corganism,\u201d and have\nproceeded to deal with it as if it were a large animal. They have\nthought not in terms of the actual phenomena under consideration,\nbut in terms of the analogy. In so far as the terms of the analogy\nwere more concrete than those of the phenomena, their thinking has\nbeen made easier. But no analogy will ever hold good throughout, and\nconsequently these thinkers have often fallen into error.\n\nThe quickest way to detect error in analogy is to carry it out as far\nas it will go\u2014and further. Every analogy will break down somewhere. Any\nanalogy if carried out far enough becomes absurd. We are most likely to\nerr when we carry an analogy too far, but not to the point where the\nabsurdity is apparent. Take the analogy employed in our first chapter,\ncomparing thinking and a ship. For the sake of the image I shall make\nthis a motor-boat. We might carry this out further. We might compare\nthe effect on the mind of books and experience to the fuel used for the\nengine. The brain, transforming outward experience into thought, might\nbe paralleled with a carburetor transforming fuel into usable form.\nAn idea may be compared to a spark. All this is very fascinating. It\nmay even lead to suggestions of real value. But it is bound soon or\nlate to develop into the ludicrous. The analogy in question, however,\ndoes not need to be developed to be confuted. For unless a boat has a\npropeller and a rudder, its engine is useless. A mind is capable of\nattaining truth without even being aware of the existence of a science\nof thinking or of logic.\n\nAnother way to find whether an analogy is fallacious is to see whether\nyou can discover a counter analogy. Surely this is the most effective\npractice in refuting analogy in argument. This suggests the case of\nthe man who had a ticket from New York to Chicago, and tried to use it\nfrom Chicago to New York. The railroad refused to accept it, whereupon\nthe man brought suit. The lawyer for the defendant, in the heat of\nthe debate, said, \u201cWhy, a man might just as well pay for a barrel of\npotatoes and then demand a barrel of apples!\u201d Whereupon the attorney\nfor the plaintiff replied, \u201cIt would be rather like a grocer selling\na man a barrel of potatoes and then trying to compel him to eat them\nfrom the top down, refusing to allow him to turn the barrel upside\ndown and begin eating them from the bottom up.\u201d It is best to avoid\nanalogy except for purposes of suggestion, or as a rhetorical device\nfor explaining an idea already arrived at by other means.\n\nI have been forced to defend my advice to take as many viewpoints\nas possible, by pointing out that the conclusions obtained from\nthese viewpoints might disagree; in fact would be almost sure to\ndisagree. Of course, this disagreement might be avoided if we allowed\nthe conclusions reached by one method or viewpoint to influence our\nconclusions in another. But if we do this we give our problem more\nshallow treatment, and we are not so sure of a result when we get it.\nWhen a mathematician adds a column of figures from the top down, he\nconfirms by re-adding from the bottom up. He knows that if he added\nin the same manner the second time he would be liable to fall into\nthe same errors. And in thinking, when we leave one method and take\nup another, we should try to forget entirely the first conclusion and\nbegin on the problem as if we had never taken it up before. After we\nhave taken up all the applicable methods, then, and then only, should\nwe begin to compare conclusions.\n\nTime forbids doing this with all problems. Time forbids even attacking\nall problems from different points of view. But there are some\nproblems where this unquestionably ought to be done. The problem\nof whether or not characteristics acquired during the life time of\none individual may be inherited by his offspring, if dealt with at\nall, is too important to be left to the a priori method alone. This\nproblem asks whether the children of educated parents will necessarily\nbe innately superior to the children of uneducated parents; it asks\nwhether the man of today is superior to the ancient Greek, or even the\npresent day savage; or, assuming that the negro race is inferior to the\nwhite race, it asks whether generations of education will bring it to\nthe white race level or leave it unchanged; it asks whether the hope\nof improving the human race lies in education or eugenics. No question\ncan be more important than this in its practical bearings. The answer\nto it will profoundly influence our opinions in education, psychology,\nethics, economics, political science\u2014even philosophy and metaphysics.\nThe answer we obtain to this question from deductive reasoning, no\nmatter how unanswerable or conclusive it may seem, should be checked\nup by nothing short of the most thoroughgoing experiment.\n\nUnfortunately the experiments needed for this particular question\ncannot be carried on by the layman. It is equally to be regretted that\nscientists have been none too thorough in carrying them out themselves.\nBut we should remember that any result we arrive at should be subject\nto revision, and that if we take up this problem at all, we should at\nleast make it our duty to read about and criticise all the experiments\nthat come to our notice.\n\nA question has perhaps just occurred to the reader. If the deductive\nmethod is to be checked up by experiment, and the results of the\nexperiment are always to be taken, why not experiment first, and omit\ntheory altogether?\n\nLeaving aside the fact that theory is the best guide for\nexperiment\u2014that were it not for theory and the problems and hypotheses\nthat come out of it, we would not know the points we wanted to verify,\nand hence would experiment aimlessly\u2014a more serious objection is that\nexperiment is seldom if ever perfect, for it nearly always involves\nsome unverified assumption. I have referred to empirical observation\nand experiment as two different methods. But the difference is\nmainly, if not solely, one of degree. If we experimented to find out\nwhether acquired characteristics were inherited, it is obvious that\nour experiments would have to be confined to animals. If we found,\nlet us say, that no acquired characteristic was ever transmitted\nto offspring, we could not say that this would be equally true of\nman, but would be justified in concluding only that the acquired\ncharacteristics of _animals_ are not transmitted to descendants. Nay,\nwe could not go even this far. We would have to confine ourselves\nto the statement that certain acquired characteristics of the few\nscore animals we had experimented upon were not transmissible. But\neven this statement would involve assumption. We could say only\nthat certain acquired characteristics of the few score animals we\nhad experimented upon had not been transmitted in these particular\ninstances. We would have to limit ourselves to a bare statement of\nfact; we could draw no conclusion whatever. But if we had attacked\nthis problem from the deductive standpoint, and had concluded that\nowing to certain conditions holding alike in all animals and in man,\nacquired characteristics _could not possibly_ be transmitted, we would\nhave sufficient ground for deriving from our experiments a broad\ngeneralization.\n\nExperiment and deduction are not the only methods which can be checked\nup against each other. We can do likewise with the comparative and\nthe experimental, the historical and the theoretical\u2014in fact, all\nviewpoints applicable to any one problem.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen you encounter a question about which there is a controversy, and\nwhere the adherents of both sides nearly equal each other in number\nand intellectual status, you may be almost certain that each side has\ncaught sight of some truth, but that neither has seen the whole truth;\nand you should endeavor to unite both sides by a broader and deeper\nsolution. A classic philosophical example of this method is Herbert\nSpencer\u2019s attempt to reconcile science and religion, and his effort\nto unite the \u201cintuitional\u201d and \u201cexperiential\u201d schools of thought. The\nintuitionists maintained that the mind had from birth intuitions by\nwhich it knew certain truths independently of experience. Such truths\nas the axiom that a straight line is the shortest distance between two\npoints, or that it is morally wrong to do certain acts, were regarded\nas among these intuitions. The \u201cempiricists\u201d or \u201csensationalists,\u201d on\nthe other hand, maintained that all our knowledge\u2014even of such a fact,\nfor instance, as that two and two are four, where we cannot conceive\notherwise\u2014is learned solely from the individual\u2019s experience, taken in\nits broadest sense. Herbert Spencer thought he recognized some truth\nin both these doctrines, and came forward with the theory that there\nare certain truths which are intuitions so far as the individual is\nconcerned, but that these intuitions have been inherited from our\nancestors, were originally built up through the ages, and represent\nthe accumulated experience of the race. Whatever may be thought of\nSpencer\u2019s success in this case, the value of the method itself is\nundoubted. It was frequently used by Kant, Hegel, Fichte and other\nGerman philosophers.\n\nI have remarked that it is almost possible to sum up the entire process\nof thinking as the occurrence of suggestions for the solution of\ndifficulties and the testing out of those suggestions. The constructive\nmethods discussed were called means for making good suggestions occur\nto us. From this standpoint the cautions with which we have just been\ndealing may be considered as tests of suggestions.\n\nLet us refer back to the analysis of thinking given in the case of the\nman who discovered footprints on the beach. Even there, in order to\ngive any adequate idea of his thought process, I was obliged to show\nthat for various reasons he rejected certain suggested solutions. But\nthis negative method could be more fully developed. Because the man\nrejected a certain solution, it does not follow that it was necessarily\nwrong. Suppose the final suggestion\u2014that the unknown had been on the\nisland all the time\u2014were to have been tested out, and that certain\nfurther facts were discovered which tended to disprove it; the man\nmight find it necessary to look for still another solution. But suppose\nthis were not forthcoming, suppose that all the possibilities had been\nexhausted. It would be necessary to return to some of the original\nsuggestions. He would have to see whether an error had been made in\ntesting them. In rejecting the suggestion of a small boat he may have\noverestimated the distance of this island from other land. He may have\nunderestimated the difficulties that a man in a small boat is capable\nof surmounting. In rejecting the supposition of a ship, he may have\nerred in his judgment of the time the footprints had been on the beach,\nor of the time it would take a large vessel to get out of sight.\n\nWhat is essential is that all suggestions be tested out, either by\nmemory, observation or experiment, in all their implications, and that\nthe tendency be resisted to accept the first solution that suggests\nitself. For the uncritical thinker will always jump at the first\nsuggestion, unless an objection actually forces itself into view.\nRemaining in a state of doubt is unpleasant. The longer the doubt\nremains the more unpleasant it becomes. But the man who is willing\nto accept this unpleasantness, the man who is willing carefully\nto observe, or experiment if need be, to test the validity of his\nsuggestions, will finally arrive at a solution much deeper, and one\nwhich will give him far more satisfaction, than the superficial answer\nobtained by the man of careless habits of thought.\n\nThomas A. Edison says he always rejects an easy solution of any problem\nand looks for something difficult. But the inventor has one great\nadvantage over any other kind of thinker. He can test his conclusion\nin a tangible way. If his device works, his thinking was right; if his\ndevice doesn\u2019t work, his thinking was wrong. But the philosopher, the\nscientist, the social reformer, has no such satisfactory test. His only\nsatisfaction is the feeling that his results harmonize with all his\nexperience. The more critical he has been in arriving at those results,\nthe more deep and permanent will be that feeling, the more valuable\nwill be his thoughts to himself and to the world.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nEven in the first chapter I intimated that logic would constitute a\npart of the science of thinking. I intimated, moreover, that it would\nconstitute almost the whole of what may be called the negative side\nof thinking\u2014those rules which serve to steer thought aright. Though\ncautionary, the advice given in this chapter is not usually given in\nbooks on logic. But though I cannot overemphasize the importance of a\nknowledge of logic, I cannot deal with it here. The science can receive\njustice only in a book devoted entirely to it.\n\nIf he has not already done so the would-be thinker should study a work\non logic, for unless the present book is supplemented by some treatise\non that science it cannot be regarded as complete.\n\nIn order not to confuse the reader I shall recommend only one book.\nIn order to encourage him I shall recommend a small book, one not so\ndeep as to be incomprehensible or repulsive to the beginner, but at the\nsame time one which is recognized as a standard treatise:\u2014_Elementary\nLessons in Logic_, by Stanley Jevons.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nCONCENTRATION\n\n\n What is the hardest task in the world? To think.\u2014EMERSON.\n\nWe have been dealing with the subject of thinking. We have considered\nit from both a positive and negative side. But while we have devoted\nour attention to thinking, we have neglected the thinker. In more\nscientific terms, we have treated thought from the logical side; we are\nnow to treat it from the psychological.\n\nFew people will admit specific faults in themselves of any kind,\nespecially if these happen to be intellectual. But almost any man\nis willing to confess that he cannot always \u201cconcentrate\u201d when he\nwants to, in fact, that he is one of the countless victims of \u201cmind\nwandering.\u201d\n\nMost of us imagine we know just what we mean by both these terms.\nBut if we are to judge by most of what has been written, no two\nterms are more misconceived. Before trying to find the best means of\nconcentrating, we must first find just what we mean by concentration.\n\nIn a previous chapter I said that suggestions for solutions \u201coccurred.\u201d\nI did not say how or why. To discover this we must refer to the famous\npsychological principle of association.\n\nAny train of thought is made possible by previous connections of ideas\nin our minds. While a girl sits at her window a parade passes along a\nnearby street. The band is playing, and ere the tune is completed the\nband has gone so far that the music is no longer audible. But the tune\nstill goes along in her mind, and she completes it herself. It suggests\na dance she had been to where it was played, and this suggests that\nshe danced the two-step to it. The two-step suggests the more modern\none-step, and this leads her to compare the familiar dancing of to-day\nwith the distant and respectful minuet.\n\nThis is an example of a random train of ideas. It is that loose\n\u201cthinking\u201d referred to in our first chapter. But even this is made\npossible only by the connection of ideas in our mind at some previous\nperiod. No thought can enter our minds unless it is associated in\nsome way with the previous thought. Psychologists have traditionally\nclassified associations into four kinds: association by succession,\nby contiguity, by similarity and by contrast. The example just given\ninvolves all four. Association by succession means that when two ideas\nor impressions of objects have entered the mind in succession, the\nsecond is likely to be suggested whenever the first is thought of. A\ntune consists in a succession of notes, and when the first notes are\nbrought to mind, as by a passing band, the rest will follow\u2014sometimes\nin spite of ourselves. Association by contiguity means that when two\nobjects or ideas have been in consciousness together, one is always\nlikely to suggest the other thereafter. This was the case with the\nmusic and the dance, or the music and the two-step. Association\nby similarity occurs when two ideas resemble each other in some\nparticular. They need not have occurred together at any past time, nor\nafter each other. The fact that they have a common element suffices\nto bring up one idea when the other is in mind: thus the two-step\nsuggested the one-step. Association by contrast needs no explanation.\nIt is exemplified when the idea of present-day dancing brings up the\nidea of distant dancing.\n\nAny attempt to show _why_ the mind acts in this way, any explanation of\nthe way in which the different kinds of association are made possible,\nwould bring us into physiological psychology, would involve a study of\nthe brain and the nervous system. For our purposes it is sufficient to\nkeep in mind that such associations do take place. Without them no idea\ncan occur. Without them thought is impossible.\n\nThe bearing of all this on concentration has yet to be made plain.\nWe must remember that every idea has more than one associate; in\nfact that each idea generally has a cluster of possible associates.\nInstead of suggesting the minuet, the one-step may have made the fox\ntrot or the three-step occur to the young lady. It may have made her\nthink of a young man with whom she danced it, or the trouble she had\nin learning it. Each of these suggestions, in turn, would also have\npotential connections with a cluster of ideas. When we are thinking at\nrandom\u2014when we are day dreaming, as in the example given\u2014the strongest\nassociation, or the first to be aroused, is the one we dwell upon. But\nwhen we are thinking with a purpose, in a word, when we are reasoning,\nwe reject all associations which have no bearing on our purpose, and\nselect only those which serve it.\n\nConcentration does not, as popularly supposed, mean keeping the mind\nfastened on one object or idea or in one place. It consists in having a\nproblem or purpose constantly before one. It means keeping our thought\nmoving toward one desired end.\n\nConcentration is often regarded as intense or focused attention. But\nthe fact is that all attention is focused attention. Psychologists are\nfairly well agreed that we can attend to only one thing at a time. Mind\nwandering, and so-called distributed attention, is really attention\ndirected first to one thing, then to another, then to another; or first\nto one thing, then to another, and then back again to the original\nobject, resting but a few moments on each idea.\n\nConcentration may best be defined as prolonged or sustained attention.\nIt means keeping the mind on one subject or problem for a relatively\nlong period, or at least continually reverting to some problem whenever\none\u2019s thoughts momentarily leave it.\n\nHaving decided just what we mean by concentration, our next step is\nto inquire whether concentration is worth while. The reader may smile\nat this question or he may be shocked, according to his temperament.\nBut if most men were so convinced that concentration is such an\nunquestionable virtue, they would practice it a little more. At least\nthey would make greater efforts to practice it than they do at present.\n\nThe truth is that concentration, _per se_, is of little value.\nThe value of concentration depends almost entirely on the subject\nconcentrated on. Almost any one will agree that even were a man to\nallow his mind to dwell now on one important problem and now on\nanother, without stopping a very appreciable time at any, he might\nnevertheless be improving his time far more than a man who concentrated\ncontinually on some insignificant and inconsequential question.\n\nBut of course this is not really an argument against concentration. It\nhas no application when you concentrate on the proper subject. For if\nyou start to concentrate on some question which you have decided is\nreally important, you should keep at it, allowing no deviation. It may\nbe that during the course of your thought associations will be aroused\nwhich will suggest or bear upon important problems, problems more\nimportant perhaps than the one you originally started to concentrate\non. But if you immediately abandoned every problem you started to\nthink of, whenever you came across one which you imagined was just as\nimportant, you would probably never really solve any big question.\n\nOur attention is guided by interest. If a man merely allows his\nthoughts to flow at random, thinking only of those things which\nspontaneously arouse his interest, he may or may not attend to things\nworth thinking about. All will depend upon the path in which his\nnatural interests run. But the point is that if the subject he thinks\nabout is valuable, it will be so only by accident; whether or not\nhis thinking is useful will depend upon mere chance. If however he\nconsciously chooses a subject\u2014chooses it because he believes it to be\nimportant\u2014then his thinking will be worth while.\n\nBut there is another reason why concentration is necessary. Suppose a\nman started to put up a barbed wire fence, got as far as driving in\nall the posts, then lost interest in the fences and decided to grow\npotatoes in his field, plowed up the ground, lost interest in the\nfield and neglected to plant the seeds; decided to paint his house,\ngot the porch done, lost interest .\u00a0.\u00a0. That man might work as hard as\nany other man, but he would never get anything done. So with the mind\nwanderer and the concentrator. The mind wanderer thinks of a problem,\nloses interest, and abandons it. The concentrator sticks to it until it\nis solved.\n\nMuch of our mind wandering is due to the fact that we are not fully\nconvinced of the importance of the problem being attacked, or that\nwe regard other problems or ideas as more important. Concentration\nconsists in devoting one\u2019s mind to the solution of one problem.\nDuring our train of thought associations bring up new ideas or suggest\nproblems which do not bear on the question at hand. Now when we wander,\nwhen we follow up these irrelevant ideas or suggested problems, or\nwhen we happen to glance at something or hear something and begin to\nthink of that, we do so because of a half-conscious belief that the new\nidea, problem or fact needs attending to, is important. I have already\npointed out that if this new idea is important it will be so only by\naccident. If we were consciously to ask ourselves whether any of these\nirrelevant problems were as important as the one we were concentrating\non, or even important at all, we would find, nine times out of ten,\nthat they were not.\n\nTherefore before beginning to concentrate you should assure yourself\nthat the problem you are about to attack is one worth solving, or at\nleast devoting a certain time to. And during that time you should think\nonly of that problem, and unhesitatingly throw out all irrelevant\nsuggestions coming either from your course of thought or from external\nsights and sounds.\n\nOne qualification is necessary. Sometimes an irrelevant suggestion\noccurs which is nevertheless really important and worth developing. As\nthis might be forgotten, and as it might never occur again, it would be\npoor counsel indeed to ask that it be thrown aside forever. The best\nmove in such a case would be to make written note of the suggestion or\nproblem, so that it could be referred to at some future time. Having\nwritten the idea, you will have it off your mind, and will be able to\ncontinue your line of thought without perturbation.\n\nIt has been suggested that a great aid to concentration is writing\none\u2019s thoughts. It must be admitted that this certainly helps one to\nkeep much closer to a subject. Ordinarily we wander without being\naware of it, and bring our minds back to a subject only after sudden\nintermittent realizations that we have gone astray. When we write our\nthoughts, however, we doubly secure ourselves against mind wandering.\nAll writing requires a certain effort, and this alone is sufficient\nto keep most of us from writing irrelevant thoughts, or anything not\ndirectly bearing upon the subject in hand. When we write, too, we\ncapture our thoughts in tangible symbols; we make them less elusive\nthan in their original form. Finally, we keep our entire past train of\nthought in view. Like an oarsman, who cannot look ahead, but guides\nhimself by the objects he is constantly leaving further behind, we keep\nto our original course of thought by a survey of the ideas already\nwritten.\n\nIn spite of these great advantages, writing has certain serious\nhandicaps as a practical method for concentrating. First among these\nis its slowness. Thoughts flash through our minds much faster than we\ncan write them. We either lose many ideas by the wayside, or fail to go\nas far in our subject as we otherwise would. Another disadvantage is\nthat we are forced to give part of our attention to the physical act of\nwriting, and thus cannot concentrate entirely on our subject.\n\nThere are two methods of writing comparatively free of at least one of\nthese handicaps. Both shorthand and typewriting, if mastered to any\ndegree, are much faster than ordinary writing. This is especially true,\nof course, of shorthand. But even with a good stenographer shorthand\nhas serious defects. Unless one is quite expert it requires even more\nattention than longhand, and at that is often unable to keep pace\nwith thought. Typewriting requires almost no attention from a touch\noperator, but it too is open to the charge of slowness, coming in this\nrespect about midway between short and longhand.\n\nBut to those so unfortunate as not to know either shorthand or\ntypewriting the necessity for still another method is evident. Indeed,\neven those acquainted with these two arts cannot always use them.\nIf every time we were to think we had to have with us a typewriter,\nor even a pencil and note-book, we would not engage in any too much\nreflection.\n\nFortunately there is one method superior to any yet named, which\nrequires no study before its application, and no paraphernalia during\nit. It consists in simply talking your thoughts as you think them. One\nwho has not tried this can have no idea of its effect. It possesses\nalmost all the advantages of writing. You cannot wander without\nrealizing the fact immediately. It makes your thinking much less vague\nthan if you thought silently, increases your vocabulary, always keeps\npace with your ideas, and requires practically no attention.\n\nIt may be objected that silent thinking itself is put in unspoken\nwords. But this is not true. Part of silent thinking consists of\nunspoken words, but part of it consists of images, concepts and\nattitudes which pass through our minds and which we do not take the\ntrouble to name. In silent thinking, too, there are also what appear\nto be occasional dead stops. All these processes drift into each other\nindefinably and are unrecognizable. When we talk we realize whether our\nimages or concepts are vague or definite by our ability to name them,\nand we realize when our thought comes to a \u201cdead stop\u201d by the fact that\nwe miss the sound of our own voice.\n\nAnother practice can be used with talking. The degree of concentration\nwe give to any subject depends upon the degree of natural interest we\ntake in it. Mind wandering comes because we are also interested in\nother subjects. No matter how slight our interest in a thing, we would\nalways concentrate on it if we were interested in nothing else. To\nsecure sustained attention, then, we should (1) stimulate or increase\ninterest in problems we want to concentrate on, (2) decrease or remove\ntemporarily any interest in the things we do not want to think about.\nMen often complain that noises distract their attention. While not\nimpossible, it is inconvenient and unpleasant to shut off our ears. But\nmen are far more distracted by sights than they are by sounds. And they\nnever think of merely shutting their eyes. The next time you attempt\nto concentrate\u2014silently or by talking\u2014try shutting your eyes and see\nwhether or not you are helped.\n\nTalking has one disadvantage\u2014it cannot always be used. To practice it,\nyou must either lock yourself up in your room, or sit alone in a forest\nor field, or walk along unfrequented streets and by-ways. You can by no\nmeans allow any one to hear or see you talking to yourself. If you are\ncaught doing this some asinine idiot is sure to mistake you for one.\n\nWe are brought back again, then, to the necessity of occasionally\nthinking in silence. There is one other reason why we shall sometimes\nneed to do this. Thoughts of certain kinds are so elusive that to\nattempt to articulate them is to scare them away, as a fish is scared\nby the slightest ripple. When these thoughts are in embryo, even the\ninfinitesimal attention required for talking cannot be spared. But\nlater, as they take more definite and coherent form, they can and\nshould be put into words, for otherwise they will be incommunicable and\nuseless.\n\nNo definite rule can be laid down, however, as to what should be spoken\nand what thought of silently. This depends to a large extent upon the\nindividual thinker. Some will probably find that talking helps them in\nalmost all their thinking, others that it is often an actual hindrance.\nThe same is true of closing one\u2019s eyes. If you do not know which is\nbetter for you, find out by experiment.\n\nAt those times when you suddenly catch yourself wandering, it would\nbe a good plan to stop occasionally and trace back your train of\nthought to the point where it left its original direction. In this way\nyou would get some valuable insight into the _how_ and _why_ of mind\nwandering; you would be helped in recognizing its appearance sooner\nthe next time it occurred.\n\nWhenever a person is left alone for a short time, with no one to talk\nto and no \u201creading matter\u201d; when for instance, he is standing at a\nstation waiting for his train, or sitting at a restaurant table waiting\nfor his order, or hanging on a subway strap when he has forgotten to\nbuy a newspaper, his \u201cthoughts\u201d tend to run along the tracks they have\nhabitually taken. If a young man usually allows a popular tune to float\nthrough his head, that will be most likely to happen; if he usually\nthinks of that young lady, he will most likely think of her then; if\nhe has often imagined himself as some great political orator making a\nspeech amid the plaudits of the multitude, he is likely to see a mental\npicture of himself swinging his arms, waving flags and gulping water.\n\nThe only way a man can put a stop to such pleasant but uneducative\nroamings, is to snap off his train of day dreaming the first moment he\nbecomes aware of it, and to address his mind to some useful serious\nsubject. His thoughts will be almost sure to leak away again. They may\ndo this as often as fifteen times in half an hour. But the second he\nbecomes aware of it he should dam up the stream and send his thoughts\nalong the channel he has laid out for them. If he has never done this\nhe will find the effort great. But if he merely resolves now that\nthe next time his mind wanders he will stop it in this manner, his\nresolve will tend to make itself felt. If he succeeds in following this\npractice once it will be much easier a second time. Every time he does\nthis it will become increasingly easy, until he will have arrived at\nthe point where his control over his thoughts will be almost absolute.\nNot only will it be increasingly easy for him to turn his mind to\nserious subjects. It will become constantly more pleasurable. Frivolous\nand petty trains of thought will become more and more intolerable.\n\nThis whole idea of forcing our thought has been questioned by no less a\nthinker than Herbert Spencer. Let us hear what he has to say regarding\nhis own practice:\n\n\u201cIt has never been my way to set before myself a problem and puzzle out\nan answer. The conclusions at which I have from time to time arrived,\nhave not been arrived at as solutions of questions raised; but have\nbeen arrived at unawares\u2014each as the ultimate outcome of a body of\nthoughts which slowly grew from a germ. Some direct observation, or\nsome fact met with in reading, would dwell with me: apparently because\nI had a sense of its significance. It was not that there arose a\ndistinct consciousness of its general meaning; but rather that there\nwas a kind of instinctive interest in those facts which have general\nmeanings. For example, the detailed structure of this or that species\nof mammal, though I might willingly read about it, would leave little\nimpression; but when I met with the statement that, almost without\nexception, mammals, even as unlike as the whale and the giraffe,\nhave seven cervical vertebr\u00e6, this would strike me and be remembered\nas suggestive. Apt as I thus was to lay hold of cardinal truths, it\nwould happen occasionally that one, most likely brought to mind by an\nillustration, and gaining from the illustration fresh distinctiveness,\nwould be contemplated by me for a while, and its bearings observed. A\nweek afterwards, possibly, the matter would be remembered; and with\nfurther thought about it, might occur a recognition of some wider\napplication than I had before perceived: new instances being aggregated\nwith those already noted. Again after an interval, perhaps of a month,\nperhaps of half a year, something would remind me of that which I\nhad before remarked; and mentally running over the facts might be\nfollowed by some further extension of the idea. When accumulation of\ninstances had given body to a generalization, reflexion would reduce\nthe vague conception at first framed to a more definite conception;\nand perhaps difficulties or anomalies passed over for a while, but\neventually forcing themselves on attention, might cause a needful\nqualification and a truer shaping of the thought. Eventually the\ngrowing generalization, thus far inductive, might take a deductive\nform: being all at once recognized as a necessary consequence of some\nphysical principle\u2014some established law. And thus, little by little, in\nunobtrusive ways, without conscious intention or appreciable effort,\nthere would grow up a coherent and organized theory. Habitually\nthe process was one of slow unforced development, often extending\nover years; and the thinking done went on in this gradual, almost\nspontaneous way, without strain.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u201d[6]\n\nBut compare this method with that of John Stuart Mill; who speaks of\n\u201cthe mental habit to which I attribute all that I have ever done, or\never shall do, in speculation; that of never abandoning a puzzle, but\nagain and again returning to it until it was cleared up; never allowing\nobscure corners of a subject to remain unexplored because they did not\nappear important; never thinking that I perfectly understood any part\nof a subject until I understood the whole.\u201d[7] Mill\u2019s method was, in\nshort, \u201cthat of conscious and vehement effort directed towards the end\nhe had in view. He solved his problems by laborious application and\nstudy.\u201d[8]\n\nWilliam Minto writes of Adam Smith: \u201cHis intellectual proceedings\nwere calm, patient, and regular: he mastered a subject slowly and\ncircumspectly, and carried his principles with steady tenacity through\nmultitudes of details that would have checked many men of greater\nmental vigor unendowed with the same invincible persistence.\u201d\n\nWith such thinkers differing so markedly in their methods, the ordinary\nman is left bewildered. He may indeed decide that effort or no effort\nmakes little difference. Let us, however, look to the psychology of the\nquestion, and see whether we can find any guiding principle.\n\nSpencer, defending his method, says: \u201cA solution reached in the way\ndescribed, is more likely to be true than one reached in pursuance of\na determined effort to find a solution. The determined effort causes\nperversion of thought. When endeavoring to recollect some name or\nthing which has been forgotten, it frequently happens that the name or\nthing sought will not arise in consciousness; but when attention is\nrelaxed, the missing name or thing often suggests itself. While thought\ncontinues to be forced down certain wrong turnings which had originally\nbeen taken, the search is vain; but with the cessation of strain the\ntrue association of ideas has an opportunity of asserting itself. And,\nsimilarly, it may be that while an effort to arrive forthwith at some\nanswer to a problem, acts as a distorting factor in consciousness and\ncauses error, a quiet contemplation of the problem from time to time,\nallows those proclivities of thought which have probably been caused\nunawares by experiences, to make themselves felt, and to guide the mind\nto the right conclusion.\u201d\n\nSpencer\u2019s first argument, that an effort to recollect something is\noften without results, while the thing is remembered later when we are\nnot trying to think of it, is true as to fact. But it does not show\nthat the effort was unfruitful. As pointed out in the discussion of\nassociation, one idea is associated with not only one other idea but\nwith an entire group. This may give a possible explanation of why it\nis so often difficult to recollect anything when we make a determined\neffort. The attempt partly arouses a whole cluster of ideas, each\nof which tends to return, but is prevented from doing so by all the\nothers. It is analogous to a crowd of people all struggling to get\nthrough a narrow doorway. They cause such a jam that for a time no\none succeeds. When the pushing and jostling cease one person at a\ntime is able to pass through. When effort is abandoned, probably all\nbut one of the associates become dormant, and this one slides into\nconsciousness at the slightest provocation.\n\nWhether or not this explanation is true, it is a fact that though an\neffort may not produce results at the time, still if it had not been\nmade, the associate which finally comes to mind would probably never\nhave occurred at all. The reader has possibly found that when learning\nsome skilled movement, such as bicycle riding, skating or swimming, his\nfirst attempts seemed without result, but after an interval of a week\nor a month, when trying again, he suddenly discovered that he could do\nwhat he wanted from the very start. Surely no one would contend that\nthis could happen without the previous effort!\n\nI must also question Spencer\u2019s remark that \u201cwith the cessation of\nstrain the true association of ideas has an opportunity of asserting\nitself.\u201d The brain has no hidden mechanism by which it can separate the\ntrue from the false. To be sure, if we use no effort the most usual\nand strongest associations will be more likely to assert themselves,\nand it may be that often these will have more warrant than unusual and\nweaker associations. Outside of this, there is no superiority.\n\nBut the main reason why we cannot follow the method of Herbert Spencer\nis that we are not all Herbert Spencers. His thought naturally tended\nto serious and useful channels. Consequently he did not have to force\nit there. If the reader is one of those rare and fortunate beings whose\nthoughts run only to useful subjects, and who always concentrate from\npure spontaneous interest, I sincerely advise him not to force himself.\nAnd if such a being happens to be reading the present chapter I assure\nhim he is criminally wasting his time, and that he should drop the\nbook or turn to the next chapter with all possible haste. But if the\nreader numbers himself with the miserable majority whose minds are ever\nrunning away with them, he will find it necessary to use effort in\nthinking\u2014at least for a while.\n\nOne remark of Spencer is undoubtedly true. This is \u201cthat an effort\nto arrive forthwith at some answer to a problem, acts as a distorting\nfactor in consciousness and causes error.\u201d And here, strange to say,\nhis practice is in substantial agreement with the apparently opposite\nmethod of John Stuart Mill. For note that Mill speaks of \u201cagain and\nagain returning to it [a puzzle] until it was cleared up.\u201d\n\nBoth imply their agreement rather than state it outright; Spencer\nby his use of the word \u201cforthwith\u201d and Mill by his words \u201cagain and\nagain.\u201d Here the practice of both differs from that of the vast\nmajority of men. Yet neither thinker seemed to be clearly conscious how\nit differed. The average man (that mythical creature!) when he has just\nbeen confronted with a problem, may wrestle with it with all the vigor\nof a great thinker. But as he sees difficulties multiplying about him,\nhe gradually becomes more and more discouraged. Finally he throws up\nthe problem in disgust, contenting himself with the reflection that it\ncannot be solved, or that it will take somebody who knows more than he\nto solve it.\n\nA real thinker, however, if confronted with the same problem, will look\nfor a solution from every possible viewpoint. But failing an answer\nhe will not give up. Instead he will let the subject drop for a while,\nsay a couple of weeks or perhaps longer, and then refer to it again.\nThis time he will find that certain obscurities have become a little\nclearer; that certain questions have been answered. He will again\nattack his puzzle with energy. And if he does not obtain a complete\nsolution he will once more put it aside, returning to it after another\ninterval, until finally a satisfactory solution presents itself.\n\nYou may fail to see any difference between thinking for two hours\nseparated by two weeks, and thinking for two consecutive hours. As\nan experiment, then, the next time you come across a puzzle which\nyou fail to solve at first tilt, write down all the unsatisfactory\nsolutions suggested, and all the questions, difficulties and objections\nmet with. You may leave this for a few weeks. When you return to it\na few of the difficulties will look less formidable, and some of the\nquestions will have practically answered themselves. (Of course some\nof the difficulties may look more formidable, and a few new questions\nmay have arisen.) If a solution is not found at the second attempt,\nthe problem may again be sent to your mental waiting room. But if it is\nonly of reasonable difficulty a solution is bound, soon or late, to be\ndiscovered.\n\nIt is difficult to say just what effects this change in thought, when\napparently one has engaged in no reflection during the interval. The\nattempted solution probably gives a certain \u201cset\u201d to our minds. Without\nbeing aware of it we observe facts relating to our problem. Ideas\nwhich occur to us in other connections are unconsciously seen in their\nbearing on the unsolved question. In short, \u201cthose proclivities of\nthought which have probably been caused unawares by experience\u201d make\nthemselves felt.\n\nIt may be imagined that if we think too much we will be liable\npermanently to injure our mighty intellects. This has sometimes\nhappened. But there is no serious danger of it. Thinking on one useful\nsubject for a long while will not hurt you any more than thinking on a\nthousand different useless subjects for the same period. But of course\nyou should not try to concentrate when you are sleepy, when you have a\nheadache, when some other bodily pain distracts your attention, or when\nyour mind is in any way tired. If you attempt to concentrate at these\ntimes you will endanger your mental and physical health. Not only this,\nbut the thinking done during such periods will be of such poor quality\nthat it will be practically useless if not harmful. This applies even\nto cases where mental fatigue is almost inappreciable. Thinking done\nin the evening seldom approaches in efficacy the thinking done in the\nfirst hours of the morning. But you should always make sure your mind\nis actually tired. It may merely be tired of a particular subject.\n\nAn objection of a different kind may be raised against concentrating\nat every opportunity. It has often been noticed that names have been\nrecalled and problems solved when we were thinking of something\nelse. It may be urged that such solutions would not have occurred\nwhen concentrating, because the exact associations which led up to\nthem would not have been present. This is occasionally true. But\nthere are still reasons why I must maintain my position. No matter\nhow well a man may have trained himself to concentrate, there will\nalways be short periods when his mind will wander, and these will\nsuffice for any accidental associations. Moreover, the fact that these\nmind wandering periods _occasionally_ do good does not excuse their\nexistence. The most fallacious ideas, the most demoniacal practices,\nthe most despicable characters of history, have _occasionally_ done\ngood. The fact is that for every useful association which occurs during\nmind wandering, ten associations just as useful will occur during\nconcentration. The only reason useful mind wandering associations\nappear frequent is that they are unexpected, therefore more noticed\nwhen they come.\n\nIt has been frequently said that many of the world\u2019s greatest\ninventions were due to accident. In a sense this is true. But the\naccident was prepared for by previous hard thinking. It would never\nhave occurred had not this thinking taken place. It is said that the\nidea of gravitation came to Newton because an apple fell on his head.\nPerhaps. But apples had been falling ever since there were apple trees,\nand had probably been falling on men\u2019s heads ever since men had\nacquired the habit of getting their heads in the way. The idea of the\nsteam engine is supposed to have come to Watt while observing a tea\nkettle. But how many thousands before him had not seen steam coming\nout of kettles? The idea of the pendulum for regulating time occurred\nto Galileo from observing a swinging lantern in a cathedral. Think how\nmany others must have seen that lantern swinging! It is probable that\nin all these cases the invention or idea had been prepared for, had\nbeen all but formed, by downright hard thinking in previous periods of\nconcentration. All that was needed was the slightest unusual occurrence\nto make the idea complete and conscious. The unusual occurrence, the\naccident, which has so often received the credit for the invention or\nthe idea, merely made it come sooner, for with the thinking these men\ndid, it was bound to come eventually.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nOf course I really do not seriously expect anybody to concentrate at\nevery opportunity. I don\u2019t myself. I merely wanted to establish the\nfact that it\u2019s the best thing. But every man, even the tired business\nvariety, should set aside at least half an hour a day, or three and\na half hours a week. I realize what a great hardship it is for some\npeople to devote one-forty-eighth of their time to such a useless\npastime as thinking. But if they will make the sacrifice for seven\nconsecutive days they will find themselves bearing up nobly at the end.\n\nThere is even a possibility that they may be encouraged to extend the\ntime.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nPREJUDICE AND UNCERTAINTY\n\n\n\u201cFrom time to time there returns upon the cautious thinker, the\nconclusion that, considered simply as a question of probabilities,\nit is decidedly unlikely that his views upon any debatable topic are\ncorrect. \u2018Here,\u2019 he reflects, \u2018are thousands around me holding on\nthis or that point opinions differing from mine\u2014wholly in most cases;\npartially in the rest. Each is as confident as I am of the truth of\nhis convictions. Many of them are possessed of great intelligence;\nand, rank myself high as I may, I must admit that some are my\nequals\u2014perhaps my superiors. Yet, while every one of us is sure he is\nright, unquestionably most of us are wrong. Why should not I be among\nthe mistaken? True, I cannot realize the likelihood that I am so. But\nthis proves nothing; for though the majority of us are necessarily\nin error, we all labor under the inability to think we are in error.\nIs it not then foolish thus to trust myself? When I look back into\nthe past, I find nations, sects, philosophers, cherishing beliefs in\nscience, morals, politics, and religion, which we decisively reject.\nYet they held them with a faith quite as strong as ours; nay\u2014stronger,\nif their intolerance of dissent is any criterion. Of what little worth,\ntherefore, seems this strength of my conviction that I am right? A like\nwarrant has been felt by men all the world through; and, in nine cases\nout of ten, has proved a delusive warrant. Is it not then absurd in me\nto put so much faith in my judgments?\u2019\u202f\u201d[9]\n\nI trust the reader will pardon this second rather extended quotation\nfrom Herbert Spencer, but the thought expressed must be kept in mind if\nwe are to approach our present subject in the proper spirit.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nOur subject is prejudice. Our object is to free ourselves as much as\npossible from our own prejudices. But before we can get rid of a thing\nit is first necessary to recognize that thing when we see it.\n\nPrejudice is often confused with intolerance. They are not the same. A\nman may be prejudiced and not intolerant. You may think that your alma\nmater, your city, or your country, is the greatest in the world, for\nlittle other reason than simply that it is _yours_. Your opinion is\nprejudiced. But you may not protest if any other man thinks that _his_\nalma mater, or _his_ city, or _his_ country, is the best in the world.\nIn fact you may not have much respect for him if he doesn\u2019t think so.\nAnd your opinion is tolerant.\n\nOn the other hand, a man may be intolerant and not prejudiced. You may\ndecide, solely on the evidence and on grounds of pure reason, that\npaper money\u2014fiat money\u2014is always a harmful form of currency, and you\nmay be justly wrathful against the man who advocates it. You may even\nwish him suppressed. Yet you may be able to answer all his arguments.\nBut you fear that if he is allowed to air his views they will take hold\non minds as shallow as his own. You fear that once they have taken\nroot it will be difficult to dislodge them, and that in the meanwhile\nthey may do harm by being put into practice. You are intolerant. But\nyou are not prejudiced. It is well to remember this distinction when\naccusations of prejudice are flying through the ozone.\n\nOne thing more must be kept in mind. Prejudice has less connection with\ntruth and falsity than is generally supposed. The fact that a man is\nunprejudiced does not make his opinion right. And the fact that a man\nis prejudiced does not necessarily make his opinion wrong; though it\nmust be admitted that if it is right it will be so only by accident.\n\nIt is often thought that prejudice can be immediately recognized. Locke\nsays, \u201cEvery one is forward to complain of the prejudices that mislead\nother men or parties, as if he were free and had none of his own.\n.\u00a0.\u00a0. This is the mote which every one sees in his brother\u2019s eye, but\nnever regards the beam in his own.\u201d[10] However, slight consideration\nwill convince us that because one man accuses another of prejudice, it\ndoes not follow that the accused is guilty. The general practice is to\naccuse of prejudice any one whose views happen to differ from our own.\n\nLet us consider a formal dictionary definition of prejudice: \u201cJudgment\nformed without due examination; opinion adverse to anything, without\njust grounds or sufficient knowledge.\u201d This is not altogether\nsatisfactory. A man may form a judgment without sufficient knowledge\nand still be unprejudiced. He may be perfectly open minded and willing\nto change his opinion if other evidence is adduced. But even if the\nformation of a judgment without sufficient knowledge is prejudice,\nit is often justified. At all events, every one will agree that the\nforegoing definition helps us little in discovering our own prejudices.\nAll of us, for instance, believe our judgment on any given question\nhas been formed with due examination, each being his own judge of what\nconstitutes \u201cdue.\u201d\n\nIt is difficult to find any satisfactory definition. Perhaps the best\nI can do is to point out various specific forms of prejudice and their\ncauses. The first form of prejudice I shall name consists in a love\nfor, and a desire to hold, some opinion. We may roughly ascribe this\ndesire to three causes:\n\n(1) We desire an opinion to be right because we would be personally\nbenefited if it were. Promise a man that if he invests his money in\nthe Lookgood Gold Mine he will receive dividends of over 40 per cent.\nannually, and he is in danger of becoming extremely gullible. He shirks\nlooking up the previous record of the promoters or directors because\nhe has a secret and indefined fear that if he does he will find their\npictures in the Rogues\u2019 Gallery. Advertise in a magazine that any thin\nman can gain seven to fourteen pounds a week by drinking Fattilac and\nyou will receive hundreds of answers enclosing the fifty cents for a\ntrial bottle. Not one desperately slim man in ten will stop to ask\nhimself how the miracle can be performed. In fact, he will do his\nworst to argue himself into the matter. He will tell himself that\nthe advertisement is in a reliable magazine, that the company would\nnot dare to make an assertion like that unless it could make good,\nthat\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nBut we may pass over the more obvious benefits, and proceed to those\ncauses of prejudice less consciously selfish or directly beneficial.\nIf an economist were to write a book attempting to prove that bankers\nwere really unnecessary and could be dispensed with, it is a rather\nsure guess that a banker would not regard very highly the intellectual\npowers of that economist. If he considered his arguments at all, it\nwould be only with the view of refuting them. In an even less conscious\nway, a rich man is likely to oppose socialism or communism, not so much\nbecause he has evidence of intrinsic worth against them, but because\nhe fears that if such systems of society were put into effect he would\nlose most of his wealth. The man who has nothing is likely to look with\nfavor upon these schemes, because they offer him promise of better\nthings.\n\nThe mere fact that we are ignorant of a certain thing will prejudice us\nagainst it, while knowledge of it will prepossess us in its favor. Ten\nchances to one a person who has been taught Esperanto will favor the\nadoption of an international language\u2014and the adoption of Esperanto in\nparticular. Most of the remarks on the uselessness of the classics come\nfrom those ignorant of them; while those who, in order to get a college\ndegree or for some like reason, have been forced to study Greek and\nLatin, will generally always exaggerate their importance. Most of the\nopposition to simplified spelling is due to the fact that having taken\nthe time and toil to master our atrociously inconsistent spelling,\npeople have a vague fear that if a phonetic system were adopted,\nchildren, the ignorant classes and persons of poor memories would be\nable to spell just as well as they, without one quarter the trouble of\nlearning. Not that they are conscious of this childish and unworthy\nattitude, for usually they are not, but the motive is operative none\nthe less.\n\nOf course in all the foregoing cases of prejudice, as in those to\nfollow, none of the victims ever uses any of his real reasons in\nargument, though he will bring forward nearly every other reason on\nearth to justify his belief. And to do him justice, it must be admitted\nthat he is often unaware of the true cause of his inclination to one\nside rather than another.\n\nThough it is less directly selfish, the patriotic bias may fairly be\nclassed with the prejudices we have just been considering. At this\ntime the most stupendous war of all history is raging. But I know of\nno German or Austrian or Turk or Bulgarian who has so far admitted\nthat the British or the French or the Russians or the Italians or\nthe Belgians or the Servians or the Montenegrins or the Japanese can\nby any possibility have right on their side, nor do I know of any\nJapanese or Montenegrin or Servian or Belgian or Italian or Russian\nor Frenchman or Englishman who believes that the Bulgarians or the\nTurks or the Austrians or the Germans are in the right. Philosophers\nand men of science are no exception; M\u00fcnsterberg, Eucken and Haeckel\nwrite publicly in favor of Germany and fifty of England\u2019s foremost\nauthors unanimously sign a pronunciamento in support of their native\ncountry\u2014yet nobody is surprised.\n\n(2) Another reason why we desire an opinion to be right is because we\nalready happen to hold it. As one writer expresses it, \u201cWe often form\nour opinions on the slightest evidence, yet we are inclined to cling to\nthem with grim tenacity.\u201d There are two reasons for this.\n\nWhen we have formed an opinion on anything, the chances are that we\nhave communicated it to some one, and have thereby committed ourselves\nto that side. Now to reverse an opinion is to confess that we were\npreviously wrong. To reverse an opinion is to lay ourselves open to the\ncharge of inconsistency. To be inconsistent\u2014to admit that our judgments\nare human and fallible\u2014this is the last thing we can ever think of.\n\u201cInconsistency,\u201d said Emerson, \u201cis the hobgoblin of little minds.\u201d And\nif by this he meant inconsistency in the sense of changing opinions\nalready formed, we must agree with him.\n\nThe hypothesis maker has a specific form of this fear of inconsistency.\nThis type of theorist makes a supposition to account for certain facts.\nWhen he meets with certain allied facts for which the supposition\napparently does not account, he either ignores said facts, or cuts and\ntrims them, or bullies them into his theory. Hypotheses _per se_ have\nnever done any harm. In fact they are indispensable in all thought,\nespecially as an aid to observation. But it is the desire to prove an\nhypothesis correct, simply because it is _our_ hypothesis, or because\nit is a fascinating hypothesis, which has done harm. Darwin says that\nhe had made it a habit \u201cwhenever a published fact, a new observation\nor thought came across me, which was opposed to my general results, to\nmake a memorandum of it without fail and at once; for I had found by\nexperience that such facts and thoughts were far more apt to escape\nfrom the memory than favorable ones.\u201d\n\nThe second reason for desiring to cling to an opinion because we\nalready hold it is one which could probably best be explained by\nphysiological psychology and a study of the brain. We feel almost\na physical pain when a tenet we have long cherished is torn up and\nexposed. The longer we hold an opinion, the harder it is for us to\nget rid of it. In this respect it is similar to habit. Nor is the\ncomparison an analogy merely. An opinion is a habit of thought. It\nhas the same basis in the brain, and is subject to the same laws, as\na habit of action. It is well known that the opinions of a man over\nforty are pretty well set. The older a man grows, the harder it is for\nhim to change an opinion\u2014or for others to change it for him.\n\nThe side of a controversy we see first is usually the side we see\nlast. This is because the arguments we meet do not have to shake up\nor dislodge anything in our brain (unless we are very critical, and\nwe generally aren\u2019t). But once let an opinion gain entrance, and any\nopinion contrary to it will have to dislodge the old one before it can\nfind a place for itself.\n\nAnd as Mark Twain has remarked, \u201cWhen even the brightest mind in our\nworld has been trained from childhood in a superstition of any kind,\nit will never be possible for that mind, in its maturity, to examine\nsincerely, dispassionately, and conscientiously any evidence or any\ncircumstance which shall seem to cast a doubt upon the validity of\nthat superstition.\u201d Of course Mark Twain was wrong. Of course we are\nThe Reasoning Race, as he cynically intimates we are not. To religion,\nfor instance, the most important question which can engage our\nunderstanding, each of us always gives independent thought. It is a\nmere accident, of course, that almost all of the 400,000,000 Chinamen\nare Buddhists. It is a mere accident that the overwhelming mass of East\nIndians are Brahmans. It is only by chance that practically all Turks,\nPersians and Arabians are Mohammedans. And it merely happened to happen\nthat England is Protestant and Ireland is Catholic. .\u00a0.\u00a0. But it is\nunsafe to bring this question of religion too near home.\n\nWe now come to our third cause of desire:\n\n(3) We desire an opinion to be wrong because we would be forced to\nchange other opinions if it were not; or we desire an opinion to be\nright because then we would be able to retain our other opinions.\nThis is a most widespread form of prejudice. But I believe it is,\nfortunately, the most defensible. Its defensibility, however, depends\nmainly on the opinions we fear to change. These we may divide into two\nkinds:\n\n(a) Those which have been formed without thought; borrowed opinions,\netc. The greatest opposition to the theory of evolution came from\nthose conservative Christians who saw that it undermined any literal\ninterpretation of Genesis. If these Christians had investigated the\nsources of that book, had considered its probable authority, had given\nthought to the possibility of inspired writing, and had finally decided\nin favor of the Biblical narrative; then\u2014right or not\u2014their opposition\nto Darwin\u2019s theory would have been free at least from this sort of\nprejudice. But most of this opposition had come from persons who had\nnot thought of Genesis, but had accepted it from the first, because it\nhad been dogmatically hammered into their heads since childhood. Hence\nit was prejudice, pure and simple.\n\n(b) The second kind of opinions we fear to change are those resting\nmainly upon evidence. William James gives an example:\n\n\u201cWhy do so few \u2018scientists\u2019 even look at the evidence for telepathy,\nso-called? Because they think, as a leading biologist, now dead, once\nsaid to me, that even if such a thing were true, scientists ought to\nband together to keep it suppressed and concealed. It would undo the\nuniformity of nature, and all sorts of other things without which\nscientists cannot carry on their pursuits.\u201d[11] Darwin writes that when\na youth he told Sedgwick the geologist of how a tropical Volute shell\nhad been found in a gravel pit near Shrewsbury. Sedgwick replied that\nsome one must have thrown it there, and added that if it were \u201creally\nimbedded there, it would be the greatest misfortune to geology, as it\nwould overthrow all that we know about the superficial deposits of the\nMidland Counties\u201d\u2014which belonged to the glacial period.[12]\n\nSome readers may object to calling the last case prejudice. They may\nsay that Sedgwick was perfectly justified. That, however, is not the\npresent question. Prejudice itself may sometimes be justified. But\nSedgwick tacitly admitted that he not only believed the shell had not\nbeen imbedded, he actually _desired_ that it had not been. And our\ndesires always determine, to a great extent, the trouble we take to get\nevidence, and the importance we attach to it after we have it.\n\nEmerson\u2019s remark, that inconsistency is the hobgoblin of little minds,\nis true in a double sense. For not only is it harmful to fear to\nchange an opinion which we have entertained, it is even harmful at\ntimes to fear to hold simultaneously two opinions incongruous with\none another. If a thought springs up in your mind, and you come to\nsee after a time that it is inconsistent with another thought, do not\nimmediately try to throw out one or the other. Instead, think the new\nthought out in all its bearings and implications, just as if you had\nnever had the first. Perhaps follow the same practice with the first\nidea. By and by one will reveal its falsity and the other its truth.\nOr more likely you will find that there was some truth in each idea,\nand you will reconcile the two in a truth higher, deeper, or more\ncomprehensive.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI have set down these three cases of prejudice to help the reader in\nrecognizing the same or similar prejudices in himself. And the mere\nrecognition of prejudices as prejudices will do much toward their\nelimination. But though we all strenuously maintain our anxiety to get\nrid of prejudices, the real reason most of us have them is that we do\nnot want to get rid of them. We are all willing to get rid of prejudice\nin the abstract. But when some one troubles himself to point out any\nparticular concrete prejudice of ours we defend it and cling to it\nlike a dog to his bone. The only way we can get rid of this desire\nto cling to our prejudices, is thoroughly to convince ourselves of\nthe superiority of the truth; to leave not the slightest doubt in our\nown minds as to the value of looking with perfect indifference on all\nquestions; to see that this is more advantageous than believing in\nthat opinion which would benefit us most if true, more important than\n\u201cbeing consistent,\u201d more to be cherished than the comfortable feeling\nof certainty. When we really do desire to get rid of our prejudices we\nwill put ourselves on the path of getting rid of them. And not before\nthen.\n\nOne more prejudice has yet to be considered. This may be called the\nprejudice of imitation. We agree with others, we adopt the same\nopinions of the people around us, because we fear to disagree. We fear\nto differ with them in thought in the same way that we fear to differ\nwith them in dress. In fact this parallel between style in thought\nand style in clothing seems to hold throughout. Just as we fear to\nlook different from the people around us because we will be considered\nfreakish, so we fear to think differently because we know we will be\nlooked upon as \u201cqueer.\u201d If we have a number of such dissenting opinions\nwe will be regarded as anything from a mere crank to a fanatic or one\nwith a \u201cscrew loose.\u201d When our backs are turned people will wisely\npoint their index fingers to their temples and move them around in\nlittle circles.\n\nOur fear of freak opinions is only equalled by our dread of ideas\nold-fashioned. A little while ago it was considered popular to laugh\nat the suffragettes. And everybody laughed. Now it is getting to be\npopular to laugh at the anti-suffragettes. A little while ago it was\nconsidered quite _comme il faut_ to fear socialism. Now it is becoming\nproper to remark, \u201cThere is really quite a good deal of truth in their\ntheories.\u201d And soon we shall doubtless all be out and out socialists.\n\nNor is the prejudice of imitation confined to the layman. If anything,\nit is even more common among so-called \u201cthinkers.\u201d I remember\nquoting some remark of Spencer to an acquaintance, and getting this:\n\u201cYes, but isn\u2019t Herbert Spencer\u2019s philosophy considered dead?\u201d This\nsame acquaintance also informed me that John Stuart Mill had been\n\u201csuperseded.\u201d He candidly admitted\u2014in fact seemed rather proud of the\nfact\u2014that he had read practically nothing of either philosopher. I am\nnot trying to defend Spencer or John Stuart Mill, nor am I attempting\nto bark at the heels of any of our present-day philosophers. But I am\nwilling to wager that most of these same people now so dithyrambic in\ntheir praise of James, Bergson, Eucken and Russell will twenty-five\nyears hence be ashamed to mention those names, and will be devoting\nthemselves solely to Post-neofuturism, or whatever else happens to be\nthe passing fadosophy of the moment.\n\nIf this is the most prevalent form of prejudice it is also the most\ndifficult to get rid of. This requires moral courage. It requires the\nrarest kind of moral courage. It requires just as much courage for a\nman to state and defend an idea opposed to the one in fashion as it\nwould for a city man to dress coolly on a sweltering day, or for a\nyoung society woman to attend a smart affair in one of last year\u2019s\ngowns. The man who possesses this moral courage is blessed beyond\nkings, but he must pay the fearful price of ridicule or contempt.\n\nThere is another form of this prejudice of imitation radically opposed\nto this. Just as with fashions in clothes there are people who strive\nto imitate others, so there are people who devote themselves entirely\nto being \u201cdifferent.\u201d Their greatest fear is that they will be taken\nfor \u201cone of the mob.\u201d They dress themselves as uniquely as possible\nin order to acquire \u201cindividuality.\u201d We have these same people in\nthe realm of thought. They are in constant trepidation lest they say\nsomething that everybody else says. They say things not for the sake\nof truth but for humor or paradox. Their great delight is to affirm or\ndefend something \u201cnew\u201d regardless of its truth; something deliciously\nradical which will shock everybody else and startle even themselves.\nThe worst part of this is that these people gradually come to regard\ntheir propositions as true, just as a liar finally comes to believe his\nown lies.\n\nThe only cure for such a mental condition is a constant sincerity in\nevery opinion we advance. People are often led into the fault by a\nmotive not incommendable in itself\u2014the desire for originality. But\nthey choose the wrong path to their goal. If you make originality and\nradicalness your aim, you will attain neither truth nor originality.\nBut if you make truth your aim you will very likely get truth, and\noriginality will come of itself.\n\nThere are hundreds of prejudices, hundreds of forms of prejudice.\nThere is, for instance, the prejudice of conservatism, which manifests\nitself in a vague fear that if the present order were changed in any\nparticular\u2014if women were given the vote, if socialism were to triumph,\nif a new filing system were to be installed at the office\u2014all would be\nlost. But I cannot deal adequately with all the forms of bias which\nflock to mind.\n\nThe distinguishing mark of the great thinkers of the ages was their\ncomparative freedom from the prejudices of their time and community.\nIn order to avoid these prejudices one must be constantly and\nuncompromisingly sounding his own opinions. Eternal vigilance is the\nprice of an open mind.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPrejudice is not the only danger which lies in wait for the would-be\nthinker. In his very efforts to get rid of prejudice he is liable to\nfall into an even greater intellectual sin. This sin is uncertainty.\n\nAs uncertainty and doubt are nearly synonymous, the reader will\nprobably be surprised at this statement because of the praise I have\nhitherto accorded to the doubtful attitude. But the doubtful attitude,\nnecessary and praiseworthy as it is, should not be maintained always.\nWe think in order to have opinions. We have opinions in order to guide\naction; in order to act upon should occasion require. Herbert Spencer,\neven after his remarks quoted at the beginning of this chapter, which\nimply the need of extreme caution, adds, \u201c.\u00a0.\u00a0. In daily life we are\nconstantly obliged to act out our inferences, trustless as they may\nbe\u2014 .\u00a0.\u00a0. in the house, in the office, in the street, there hourly\narise occasions on which we may not hesitate; seeing that if to act is\ndangerous, never to act at all is fatal.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u201d\n\nThere are other reasons why we cannot afford to keep the doubtful\nattitude. If our lives were interminable, if we had limitless time for\nthinking, we could afford to remain in doubt indefinitely. But life is\nfleeting. So if you have examined facts obtainable on such a question\nas psychic phenomena, have kept your mind open for a certain time, and\nhave decided that communication with the dead is impossible, you are\njustified in discontinuing to look for evidence on that question. Every\nhour devoted to examining such evidence would be an hour taken away\nfrom thought on some other subject, and the law of diminishing returns\nis just as applicable in thinking as in economics.\n\nAnother trouble with the attitude of doubt is that when not properly\nutilized it hinders rather than aids the acquisition of truth. This is\nespecially the case when it takes the form of _fear of prejudice_. If\nguided by this fear, in our anxiety not to discriminate in favor of one\nside of a question we are apt to discriminate in favor of the other.\nIn an attempt to give an opposing argument due consideration, we are\nliable to give it undue consideration. Instead of removing prejudice\nwith reason we may be trying to balance one prejudice with a counter\nprejudice. When a person disagrees with him, a very conscientious\nthinker, fearing that he may be prejudiced, and in order to prove\nhimself broad-minded, will often say regarding an objection, \u201cWell,\nthere may be something in that.\u201d Now your only excuse for ever saying,\n\u201cThere may be something in that,\u201d will be as an attitude to assume in\nexperimenting or observing, or looking up material or arguments to find\nwhether there actually _is_ anything in it. Then, if you do not find\nanything in it you are justified in saying so\u2014and you ought to.\n\nIt is useless to stimulate doubt unless you intend, on grounds\nof reason, to settle the doubt. _The doubtful attitude should be\nmaintained only so long as you are actively searching for evidence\nbearing on a question._ Maintained at any other time or used in any\nother way it means merely uncertainty, indefiniteness, vagueness, and\nleads nowhere.\n\nIt is important that we be unprejudiced. It is even more important that\nour views be definite. And if our definite views are wrong? .\u00a0.\u00a0. But\nthe words of Thomas Huxley on this subject cannot be improved:\n\n\u201cA great lawyer-statesman and philosopher of a former age\u2014I mean\nFrancis Bacon\u2014said that truth came out of error much more rapidly\nthan it came out of confusion. There is a wonderful truth in that\nsaying. Next to being right in this world, the best of all things\nis to be clearly and definitely wrong, because you will come out\nsomewhere. If you go buzzing about between right and wrong, vibrating\nand fluctuating, you come out nowhere; but if you are absolutely and\nthoroughly and persistently wrong, you must, some of these days, have\nthe extreme good fortune of knocking your head against a fact, and that\nsets you all straight again.\u201d[13]\n\nWhen you find yourself fluctuating back and forth between two opinions\nyou might find it helpful to hold an internal debate. State to yourself\nas strongly as possible the case for the affirmative, and then put\nas convincingly as possible the case for the negative, holding a\nrefutation if necessary. You may even elaborate this by writing the\narguments for both sides in parallel columns. Of course you should\nnever use an argument which you can see on its face to be fallacious,\nnor a statement which represents merely a prejudice and nothing more.\nYou should use only such arguments as you think a sincere debater would\nconscientiously employ. By thus making your reasons articulate you will\noften find that there is really no tenable case at all for one side,\nand you will seldom fail to reach a definite conclusion. This method of\narriving at a decision may be voted childish and even artificial, but\nnothing is to be despised which can render intellectual help.\n\nOne word more on this. There is a type of individual, most often met\nwith among writers, who fears to make a statement of his thought\ndefinite, because he has a faint suspicion that it may be wrong.\nHe wishes to allow himself plenty of loopholes to slip out of an\nintellectual position in case any one should attack it. Hence he never\nsays outright, \u201cSuch and such is the case.\u201d Instead, his talk or\nwriting is guarded on all sides by such expressions as \u201cIt is probable\nthat,\u201d \u201cit is possible that,\u201d \u201cthe facts _seem_ to indicate that\u201d; or\n\u201csuch and such is _perhaps_ the case.\u201d Not satisfied with this he makes\nhis statement less positive by preceding it with an \u201cI believe,\u201d or\nworse yet, with an \u201c_I am inclined_ to believe.\u201d\n\nThis is often done under the impression that it is something noble,\nthat it signifies broadmindedness, lack of dogmatism, and modesty.\nIt may. If it does, so much the worse for broadmindedness, lack of\ndogmatism, and modesty. Never yield to the temptation to word your\nthoughts in this manner. If you truly and firmly believe that \u201csuch\nand such is the case\u201d _say_ \u201csuch and such is the case\u201d; not \u201cit is\npossible that such and such is the case,\u201d or \u201csuch and such is perhaps\nthe case,\u201d or \u201cit is my belief that such and such is the case.\u201d People\nwill assume that it is your belief and not somebody else\u2019s.\n\nSuppose you have made a positive statement. And suppose you later find\nit to be wrong? Well then, acknowledge that it is wrong. Acknowledge\nthat you have done something human; that you have done something\nwhich every man before you has done; that you have made a mistake. I\nrealize such a confession is hard. It is the severest blow you can\ndeal to yourself, and few people will think the better of you for\ndoing it. Most of them will say, \u201cSee, he acknowledges himself that\nhe was wrong.\u201d And with these people, both you and your theory will\nbe far more discredited than if you had clung to it until the end of\nyour life, no matter how obviously, how flagrantly, it opposed itself\nto facts. But a few people will appreciate your sacrifice. A few\npeople will admire your bigness. And you will grow. You will grow as a\nthinker. What is more, you will grow morally. And the time will come\nwhen you will have fewer and fewer occasions to reverse yourself, for\nyou will learn to think longer before you advocate an opinion.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe question of the avoidance of prejudice and the necessity of\nbreaking off doubt, remains still unsettled. There can be no doubt\nthat the two desideratums conflict; that to cut off doubt, or even to\nrefrain from stimulating it, is to encourage by so much the dominance\nof prejudice.\n\nThe answer to this question will depend entirely upon the particular\nproblem under consideration. No rules can be laid down. Everything will\ndepend upon the importance of the question, upon the possibility or\nfrequency of occasions when we may be called to act upon the answer,\nand upon the way in which the answer will affect conduct when we do act\nupon it. Where the importance of the question is trifling, it would be\nfoolish to sound our prejudices too deeply, or to go to any elaborate\npains to collect evidence. Where immediate, unhesitating action is\nrequired, remaining in doubt might be fatal. Any decision would be\nbetter than no decision. When the importance of the question is vital,\nor when the possibility of having to act on the answer is distant,\nwe can afford to preserve our doubts, to suspend final judgment, for\nyears\u2014perhaps during our entire life; and we should spare no pains to\ninvestigate fully all that relates to the question.\n\nJust how much trouble to take, how long to keep alive the attitude\nof doubt in any particular question, will have to be decided by the\nindividual. His own judgment must be the sole criterion.\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\nDEBATE AND CONVERSATION\n\n\nThe mind engages in many activities which have power either for evil or\ngood. Just what influence they will exert depends on how we use them.\nOne of the most important of these activities is debate.\n\nDebate brings in that unequaled form of incentive for all action which\npsychologists call \u201csocial pressure\u201d and which here means nothing more\nthan the desire to excel a fellow-being in some line of endeavor. When\ndebating we concentrate, and we do so without conscious effort. We are\ntoo interested in defeating our opponent to wander from the subject.\nWe are forced to think rapidly. Not least of all, we are compelled to\nthink articulately.\n\nBut with all its advantages, debate is one of the most potent sources\nof prejudice. In the heat of controversy, we adopt any and every\nargument that comes handy. Every statement of our opponent is\nconsidered only in the light of how it can be refuted. We are willing\nto use almost any objection against him, so long as we believe he will\nsee no flaw in it. It is of utmost importance that we find how to avoid\nthese pitfalls.\n\nThe first thing we must do is to adopt a complete change of attitude\ntoward an opponent\u2019s arguments. Whenever we meet with a fact which\nwe would not like to cite in a debate; because, to put it mildly, it\nwould not help our side; we should carefully investigate that fact.\nWe should consider whether if true it changes the aspect of things.\nWe should get rid of the idea that in order to vindicate our side we\nmust answer every contention our opponent advances. For this opponent\nof ours will very likely be a man in full possession of his senses; at\nleast some of his arguments will be rational. When they are, we should\nbe willing to acknowledge it. Their truth does not necessarily make his\nside right. His arguments may be irrelevant; they may be outbalanced by\nsome other reason or reasons. Attempts to prove too much are liable to\nput us into the position of the lawyer whose client is alleged to have\nbeen sued for putting a hole in a borrowed umbrella. The lawyer proved\nfirst, that his client did not borrow the umbrella; second, that there\nwas a hole in it when he got it; third, that there was nothing the\nmatter with it when he returned it.\n\nAfter you have had a friendly argument with an acquaintance, you\ntake leave either with the satisfaction that you have bested him, or\nwith a vague consciousness that though you were right, he was just a\ntrifle more skillful at bringing forward arguments. But having this\nsatisfaction or dissatisfaction, you seldom think any more of the\nmatter until the next time you meet him. Now this practice is helpful\nneither to your debating nor your thinking. After you have taken\nleave of your acquaintance, and are left to the quietude of your own\nthoughts, you should mentally run over your controversy. You should\ndispassionately consider the bearing and weight of his arguments; and\nthen, reviewing your own, ask yourself which were valid and relevant\nand which were not. If you find you have used a sophism you should\nresolve never to use it again, even though your opponent may have\nbeen unable to answer it. The question of morals aside, this is poor\npractice if you ever hope to become a thinker. In the end, it will tell\nagainst you even as a debater.\n\nYou can use your debates for constructive material as well as for\ncriticism. After a controversy you can go over the arguments of your\nopponent which you could not refute, or refuted but lamely, and think\nof the answers you might have given. Of course you should take care\nthat these answers are not sophistical. The question will very likely\ncome up again; if not with the same friend, then with another, and when\nit does you will find yourself prepared.\n\nBut the best debater, or at least he who gets the most from debating,\nis the man who looks for evidence and thinks not for debate, but to\nobtain a correct conclusion. After he has reached a conclusion in\nthis manner, he does not advance every possible reason to support it.\nHe does not even utilize the reasons on which others base a similar\nbelief, if he does not himself accept these reasons. He states merely\nthat evidence and those reasons which have led him to accept his\nconclusion, nothing more.\n\nWhile we are considering debate, I may well say a few words about\nconversation in general. We do not and cannot always argue with our\nfriends, even though we scorn the dictums of formal etiquette. But\nbecause we do not argue, it does not follow that we gain nothing. In\nfact, ordinary conversation has advantages numerous over debate, not\nthe least of which is the comparative freedom it gives from prejudice.\nBut the value of conversation depends both on what we talk about,\nand whom we talk with. Too much of our talk is on petty matters, is\nuneducative. And even if we converse on worthy topics, it will profit\nus little if we do not talk with worthy people. When we commune with a\ndull mind, our thoughts are forced, in some degree, down to the level\nof that mind. But dull people do not usually talk of weighty matters,\nnor do active intellects dwell long on trifles. Therefore if we\nrightly choose our companion we can conscientiously leave our path of\nconversation to choose itself.\n\nOne aspect of conversation remains to be treated\u2014its corrective\npower. \u201cThere is a sort of mental exposure in talking to a companion;\nwe drag our thoughts out of their hiding-places, naked as it were,\nand occasionally we are not a little startled at the exhibition.\nUnexpressed ideas are often carefully cherished until, placed before\nother eyes as well as our own, we see them as they really are.\u201d[14]\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\nTHINKING AND READING\n\n\nUp to now I have dealt with thinking almost as if it could be carried\non without external aid. As with cautionary and constructive thought, I\nhave perhaps been led to do this because of a reaction from the usual\ninsistence upon reading as indispensable to mental improvement, and the\ncorresponding neglect of the need for independent thinking. Men thought\nbefore there were books, and men can still think without reading, but\nthey cannot. .\u00a0.\u00a0. I was about to remark that they could not read\nwithout thinking, but on second thought I am inclined to doubt it.\nHowever, we have clung to the natural order, for we first considered\nunaided thinking, then the help given by conversation and dispute, and\nfinally we are to examine the aid rendered by reading. There can be no\ndoubt that this order follows the development of thought both in the\nindividual and in the human race.\n\nWhile no complaint can be made of lack of quantity in what has been\nwritten on reading, most of it has not taken up the subject from the\nproper standpoint; still less has dealt with it in the right manner.\nThere has been counsel galore urging people to read; and recently there\nhas been a great deal of advice on what to read. But comparatively very\nlittle has been said on _how_ to read. At one time reading was regarded\nan untainted virtue, later it was seen that it did us no good unless we\nread good books, and now there is a dawning consciousness that even if\nwe read good books they will benefit us little unless we read them in\nthe right way.\n\nBut even where this consciousness has been felt, little attempt has\nbeen made to solve the problem systematically. Leisurely discourses,\npretty aphorisms, and dogmatic rules have been the forms in which the\nquestion has been dealt with. Such conflicting adages as \u201cA good book\nshould be read over and over again\u201d; and \u201cThe art of reading is the art\nof skipping,\u201d are not very serviceable. The necessity of some sort of\norderly treatment is evident.\n\nBefore we consider how to read, some queer person may ask us to put\nthe previous question, \u201cShould we read at all?\u201d Now the value of\nreading has, in times past, been seriously doubted by thinkers and\nnon-thinkers. The philosopher Democritus put out his eyes so that,\nceasing to read, he might think. We are not going to follow his\nexample. But we can readily sympathize with him when we think of the\nmany learned men who have read themselves into dreamy stupidity; men\nwho know what everybody else thought, but who never have any thoughts\nof their own. We must admit that the arguments of these cranks are at\nleast good medicine for the prevalent belief that the more a man reads\nthe more he will know and the better thinker he will become.\n\nLearning to think by reading is like learning to draw by tracing.\nIn each case we make the work of another man our basis, instead of\nobserving directly from Nature. The practice has its value, it is true;\nbut no man ever became a great artist by tracing, and no man will ever\nbecome a great thinker by reading. It can never become a substitute\nfor thought. At best, as John Locke says, \u201cReading furnishes the mind\nonly with materials of knowledge, it is thinking makes what we read\nours.\u201d[15]\n\nOur problem may be divided in two parts: (1) What ratio should our\nreading bear to independent thinking, and (2) how should we read when\nwe do read?\n\nIt may be thought that we can learn something about the first question\nby investigating the practice of great thinkers. But the outcome\nof such an investigation is likely to be disappointment. Kant, for\ninstance, was an omnivorous reader; so were Huxley and Sir William\nHamilton; and outside the circle of philosophers, men as unlike as\nGibbon, Macaulay, Milton and Thomas A. Edison. On the other hand,\nSpencer seldom ever read, and Hobbes is famous for his remark that if\nhe had read as much as other men he would have known as little. Auguste\nComte was unique in that he read copiously until he conceived his\nPositive Philosophy, and then hardly at all until the end of his life.\n\nEven were it found that most great thinkers adhered to nearly the same\npractice, it would prove little; for how could we tell whether they\nwere good thinkers on account of, or in spite of it?\n\nWe can agree a priori, however, with the remark of Schopenhauer that\n\u201cthe safest way to have no thoughts of one\u2019s own is to take up a book\nevery moment one has nothing else to do.\u201d And we may agree with him\nfurther: \u201cA man should read only when his thoughts stagnate at their\nsource, which will happen often enough even with the best of minds. On\nthe other hand, to take up a book for the purpose of scaring away one\u2019s\nown original thoughts is a sin against the Holy Spirit. It is like\nrunning away from Nature to look at a museum of dried plants, or gaze\nat a landscape in copper-plate.\u201d[16]\n\nIt would be folly to lay down any fixed mathematical ratio between\nthe time we should devote to reading and the time we should give to\nthinking. But one hour given to reading plus one hour given to thinking\nwould be certainly more beneficial than two hours devoted entirely to\nreading.\n\nYou can find quite a number of serious-minded men who put by a certain\nperiod each day for reading. But how many of them put by any time at\nall for thinking? It would be unjust to say they do not think. But at\nbest their thinking is merely accidental\u2014and apparently considered so.\nSurely it is as important that we lay aside a definite period each day\nfor thinking as it is that we lay aside some time for reading. But how\nmuch this time should be and whether it should bear any specific ratio\nto the time given to reading can best be decided after a consideration\nof the problem of how to read.\n\nThis problem has unfortunately been much misconceived. Those who have\nlaid stress on the maxim, \u201cA good book should be read over and over\nagain,\u201d have done so in the belief that this is the best way to get\nthe most out of a particular book. But the object of reading is not to\nget the best out of any one book, but out of reading in general. A\nrealization of this end will change our problem somewhat.\n\nIt will bring us to a consideration, for example, of the law of\ndiminishing returns. While the more we re-read a book the more we get\nout of it, it must be remembered that with a few possible exceptions,\nevery time we re-read it we add less to our knowledge than we did\nthe previous time. This means that we can usually make much faster\nprogress by reading other books, in which case we do not merely read\nover what we already know for the most part. Whether re-reading is ever\njustified, and when, is a question which will be considered a little\nlater.\n\nThe law of diminishing returns applies to an entire subject as well\nas to a single book. That is to say, past a certain point, every book\nwe read on a particular subject, while it will probably add to our\nknowledge, will not yield as much return as a book of equal merit on\nanother subject, new to us.\n\nThe problem of reading asks how we can acquire the greatest number of\nideas, and how we can arrive at truth rather than the verdict of an\nauthor. It assumes a limited time and asks how we can use that time\nmost profitably. Not least of all, it asks how we can best combine our\nreading with original thought.\n\nFrom the remarks already made, it is evident that we cannot prescribe\nany one method for dealing with all books. Even works of similar nature\nand merit will be treated in different ways, depending on the order\nin which we read them, and like conditions. The mastery of any book\nwill not be an end in itself. It will be subordinated to the larger\nend of obtaining the best from reading as a whole. But for the sake of\nclearness, I shall for the present consider our end as the mastery of\nsome particular subject, and shall indicate a plan of reading to best\nserve that end. Needful qualifications will come later.\n\nI shall first outline a typical plan of study, and then review and\nexplain it in detail.\n\nAssuming you have chosen a subject, your first step should be to do a\nlittle unaided thinking on it. Next I would advise the selection of a\ncomprehensive text book. This should be read critically and written\nnote made of the problems taken up which you do not believe have\nbeen adequately treated, or the solutions of which are in any way\nunsatisfactory. These you should think out for yourself. A second book\nmay in some cases be read in the same thorough manner as this first\none, and the problems recorded in the same way. After that all books\non that subject may be read \u201chop, skip and jump\u201d fashion, for the new\nproblems or solutions they suggest.\n\nI do not expect the foregoing plan to be strictly adhered to, for the\nnature of the subject studied will make certain changes necessary.\nHowever, it demands more detailed explanation and perhaps defense.\n\nLet us take up the first step advised\u2014giving a little unaided thought\nto the subject. My only reason for advising \u201ca little\u201d thinking, is\nthat I know if I asked more the reader would probably do nothing at\nall. Indeed many readers will fail to see the necessity of thinking\nabout a subject before studying it. Many may even question the\npossibility of doing so. \u201cHow is a man to think about a subject on\nwhich he knows nothing?\u201d you ask. Let us, however, consider.\n\nThe very fact that you want to study a subject implies that the\nphenomena with which it deals are not clear to you. You desire to\nstudy economics, for instance, because you feel that you do not\nunderstand everything you should about the production, distribution and\nconsumption of wealth. In other words, something about these phenomena\npuzzles you\u2014you have some unsolved problems. Very well. These problems\nare your materials. Try to solve them.\n\n\u201cBut how can I solve them when I know nothing of economics?\u201d\n\nKindly consider what a science is. A science is nothing more than the\norganized solution of a number of related problems. These problems and\ntheir answers have been changed and added to the ages through. But when\nthe science first started there was no literature on it. It originated\nfrom the attempts of men to solve those problems which spontaneously\noccurred to them. Before they started thinking these men knew nothing\nof the science. The men who came after them availed themselves of the\nthoughts of those before, and added to these. The whole process has\nbeen one of thought added to thought. Yet, in spite of this, people\nstill cling to the belief, even if they do not openly avow it, that\nwe never can make any headway by thinking, but that in order to be\neducated, or cultured, or to have any knowledge, we must be reading,\nreading, reading.[17]\n\nI almost blush for this elaborate defense. Everybody will admit the\nnecessity for thinking\u2014in the abstract. But how do we regard it in the\nconcrete? When we see a man reading a good book, we think of him as\neducating himself. When we perceive a man without a book, even though\nwe may happen to know that he is engaged in reflection, we do not look\nupon him as educating himself, though we may regard him as intelligent.\nIn short, our habitual idea of thought is that it is a process of\nreviewing what we already know, but not of adding anything to our\nknowledge. Of course no one would openly avow this opinion, but it is\nthe common acting belief none the less. The objections to thought are\ninarticulate and half-conscious. I am trying to make them articulate in\norder to answer them.\n\nTo return, then, to the remark that we should use as materials for\nunaided thinking the problems which occur spontaneously. You will\nfind when you begin to solve these that other problems will arise,\nand that up to a certain point, the deeper you go into a subject\u2014the\nmore critical you are in your thinking\u2014the more problems will occur.\nPerhaps it would be too much to ask you to solve all of these. Yet\neven a little of this preliminary thinking will be of immense help\nin reading. It will give you a far better sense of the importance of\ndifferent problems which a book considers, and you will not judge\ntheir significance merely by the space it devotes to them. An author\nmay indeed bring before us certain problems which had not hitherto\noccurred, and stimulate in us a sense of their importance. But this\nartificial stimulation can never take the place of natural and\nspontaneous wonder. Once we have obtained a solution of a problem\nwhich has arisen spontaneously and from within, we do not easily forget\nit. Our independent thinking, too, will have given us an idea of the\ndifficulties presented by problems, and will make us more critical in\nreading and more appreciative of the solutions of an author. Not least\nof all, if we read first we are extremely liable to fall into the\nroutine and traditional ways of considering a subject, whereas if we\nfirst think, we are more likely in our insophistication to hit upon an\nidea of real originality.\n\nOne last objection to thinking before reading remains. Schopenhauer has\nanswered it in his forcible manner:\n\n\u201cA man may have discovered some portion of truth or wisdom after\nspending a great deal of time and trouble in thinking it over for\nhimself, adding thought to thought; and it may sometimes happen that\nhe could have found it all ready to hand in a book and spared himself\nthe trouble. But even so it is a hundred times more valuable, for he\nhas acquired it by thinking it out for himself. For it is only when\nwe gain our knowledge in this way that it enters as an integral part,\na living member, into the whole system of our thought; that it stands\nin complete and firm relation with what we know, that it is understood\nwith all that underlies it and follows from it, that it wears the\ncolor, the precise shade, the distinguishing mark, of our own way of\nthinking, that it comes exactly at the right time, just as we felt the\nneed for it; that it stands fast and cannot be forgotten.\u201d[18]\n\nDespite the strong case that Schopenhauer makes out, I am satisfied\nwith my former advice\u2014that a little thinking will suffice. Not only\nbecause, as already said, the reader will probably do nothing if\nadvised to do more; but because after a certain amount of thinking\nhas been done, it is more profitable to avail ourselves of the wisdom\nof the ages, stored in books, and to do our thinking after we have\nacquired the main outlines of this wisdom. For when we think a problem\nout, with the feeling that even after we have obtained a solution we\nshall probably find it in a book later, we have not the incentive that\nwe have when we feel we have covered most of the old ground and that\nthinking may bring us into new territory.\n\nThe practice of Gibbon remains to be considered: \u201cAfter glancing my\neye over the design and order of a new book, I suspended the perusal\nuntil I had finished the task of self-examination; till I had revolved\nin a solitary walk all that I knew or believed, or had thought on the\nsubject of the whole work, or of some particular chapter. I was then\nqualified to discern how much the author added to my original stock,\nand I was sometimes satisfied by the agreement, sometimes armed by the\nopposition of our ideas.\u201d[19]\n\nThe trouble with this method is that it is not critical enough;\nthat is, critical in the proper sense. It almost amounts to making\nsure what your prejudices are, and then taking care to use them as\nspectacles through which to read. We always do judge a book more or\nless by our previous prejudices and opinions. We cannot help it. But\nour justification lies in the manner we have obtained these opinions;\nwhether we have infected them from our environment, or have held\nthem because we wanted them to be true, or have arrived at them from\nsubstantial evidence and sound reasoning. If Gibbon had taken a\ncritical attitude toward his former knowledge and opinions to make sure\nthey were correct, and had then applied them to his reading, his course\nwould have been more justifiable and profitable.\n\nIn certain subjects, however, Gibbon\u2019s is the only method which can\nwith profit be used. In the study of geography, grammar, a foreign\nlanguage, or the facts of history, it is well, before reading, simply\nto review what we already know. Here we cannot be critical because\nthere is really nothing to reason about. Whether George Washington\nought to have crossed the Delaware, whether \u201cshall\u201d and \u201cwill\u201d ought\nto be used as they are in English, whether the verb \u201cavoir\u201d ought to\nbe parsed as it is, or whether Hoboken ought to be in New Jersey, are\nquestions which might reasonably be asked, but which would be needless,\nbecause for the purposes we would most likely have in mind in reading\nsuch facts it would be sufficient to know that these things are so.\nWe might include mathematics among the subjects to be treated in this\nfashion. Though it is a rational science, there is such unanimity\nregarding its propositions that the critical attitude is almost a waste\nof mental energy. In mathematics, to understand is to agree.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe come to the second step outlined in our plan of study\u2014the selection\nof a comprehensive text book.\n\nEvery large subject has gathered about it a vast literature, more\nthan one man can ever hope to cover completely. This literature may\nbe said to consist wholly of two things: information as to facts, and\nopinions on those facts. In other words, any book you read on that\nsubject will probably contain some facts new to you and will contain\nalso the thoughts and reflections of the author. Of course you should\nendeavor to learn as many facts as possible. But it is not necessary\nto know all that has been thought about the subject. You are supposed\nto have a mind of your own; you are supposed to do some thinking for\nyourself. But though it is not necessary that you know all that has\nbeen thought, it is well that you know at least part of what has been\nthought, and so far as possible, the best part. For as just pointed\nout, if you attempt to think out an entire subject for yourself you\nwill expend great energy and time in arriving at conclusions which\nhave probably already been arrived at during the generations that the\nsubject has had its being. Therefore you should endeavor to get, in as\nshort a time as possible, the greatest number of important facts and\nthe main outlines of the best that has been thought.\n\nSo if you sincerely intend to master any subject, the best way to begin\nis by the selection of the most comprehensive and authoritative work\nyou can secure.\n\nThe man who desires to study any subject is commonly advised to read\nfirst a small \u201cintroductory\u201d book, then a larger one, and finally the\nlargest and most authoritative volumes. The trouble with this practice\nis that you will have to study each book in turn. If you take up the\nmost thorough book first you need merely glance through the smaller\nbooks, for the chances are that they will contain little that is new\nto you, unless they happen to be more recent. The only justification\nfor reading a small book first is that the larger books are apt to be\ntechnical and to assume a certain knowledge of the subject. However,\n_the_ authoritative treatise or treatises on a subject usually refer\nfar less to the smaller books than the smaller books do to them. Any\ngreater depth of thought which the larger works may possess can be made\nup for by increased concentration on the part of the reader. Of course\nif a man does not intend to master a subject thoroughly, but only to\nget some idea of its broad outlines, the case is different. He would\nthen be justified in reading a small work.\n\nAnother advantage of beginning a subject with the study of a\ncomprehensive and authoritative volume or main textbook, is that you\navoid confusion. The man who has mastered one foreign language, say\nFrench, will always find his knowledge of great benefit to him for the\nstudy of another language, such as Spanish. But any one who has begun\nat about the same time the study of two or more foreign languages must\nremember his confusion, and how his vague knowledge of one tongue\nhindered him in the acquisition of the other.\n\nSo with reading. When we peruse a book in the usual casual way we do\nnot master it. And when we read a book on the same subject immediately\nafter it, the different viewpoint is liable to cause bewilderment and\nmake us worse off than before the second book was started. We do not\nlike to devote a lot of time to one book, but would rather run through\nseveral books in the same time, believing that we thereby gain more\nideas. We are just as mistaken as a beginner in swimming who would\nattempt to learn several strokes before having mastered one well enough\nto keep afloat.\n\nA main text being of such importance, its choice involves\nresponsibility. But how are we to know whether one book is superior to\nanother until we have read both? And if we are confronted with this\ndifficulty even when familiar with a subject, how much greater must be\nour task when we know nothing of it? These difficulties do not appear\nso formidable in practice.\n\nFailing other means, the best method of selecting a main text is by\nreputation. If we do not even know what book has the best reputation,\nwe can easily find out by referring to so acknowledged an authority as\nthe Encyclopedia Britannica, and consulting the bibliography in the\narticle on the subject.\n\nBut reputation does not furnish the only means of selecting. By merely\nglancing through a book, stopping here and there to read entire\nparagraphs\u2014a task of ten or fifteen minutes\u2014we can form an estimate\nwhich later reading will usually justify. For an author betrays himself\nin every line he writes; every slightest remark reveals in some manner\nthe breadth and depth of his thought. But just how well we can judge\na book in this way depends both on our own ability and on the time we\ndevote to glancing through it.\n\nA few general requirements in a main text have been implied in stating\nthe purpose of having one. The book with the best reputation is not\nnecessarily the best for you. In economics Adam Smith\u2019s _Wealth of\nNations_, though easily the most famous book on the subject, would\nhardly be suitable as a main text because it has been superseded.\nBut though recency is always an asset, this does not mean that the\nmost recent book is always or even usually the best. The common idea,\nthough it is usually but vaguely formulated, is that the writer of the\nmore recent book has had all the previous books to draw upon, and has\ntherefore been able to extract the best from all of them and add to\nthis his own thoughts. The fallacy of this has been pointed out in the\ntrenchant language of Schopenhauer:\n\n\u201cThe writer of the new book often does not understand the old books\nthoroughly, and yet he is unwilling to take their exact words; so he\nbungles them and says in his own bad way that which has been said\nvery much better and more clearly by the old writers, who wrote from\ntheir own lively knowledge of the subject. The new writer frequently\nomits the best things they say, their most striking illustrations,\ntheir happiest remarks, because he does not see their value or feel\nhow pregnant they are. The only thing that appeals to him is what is\nshallow and insipid.\u201d\n\nThe value of recency will depend on the subject; while it would be\nessential in aviation, its importance would be far less in ethics.\n\nIt is not well to take as your main text a book presenting a number of\ndifferent and conflicting viewpoints. One purpose of a main text is to\navoid confusion. Do not start the study of psychology, for instance,\nby reading a history of the subject giving the views of different\nthinkers. Begin by taking up one definite system.\n\nFinally, be sure to select a book covering the entire field. Do not,\nfor instance, take a volume on the tariff to begin the study of\neconomics.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe pass now to the third step advised\u2014to read critically. By this I\ndo not mean that we should read skeptically or to confute everything\nan author says. I mean simply that we should resist our natural\ntendency to have our minds swayed by every opinion he expresses. I mean\nthat before allowing an idea to slip into our minds we should first\nchallenge its truth; we should examine its evidence.\n\nPerhaps you have listened to a debate. After the affirmative had\nmade his impassioned plea you were all for the affirmative. When the\nnegative came forward and presented his case, you found yourself\nfavoring _him_. .\u00a0.\u00a0. Why do debaters always try to get the last say?\nWhy is it that in a formal debate, the affirmative, which usually has\nthe last say, is most often the side that wins? I could state the\nreason bluntly. But if I did the honorable judges of such controversies\nwould not feel that their critical powers had been complimented.\n\nThe tendency to absorb the opinions of others manifests itself to just\nas great a degree in reading. I have held debating up as an example\nmerely because it brings out more strongly, more strikingly, the\neffects of such a tendency. But how can it be resisted?\n\nIf we have thought out a subject thoroughly, if we have acquired a\nstock of clear and definite ideas on it, criticism in reading will\nlargely take care of itself. By dint of our own thinking we will know\nwhat is relevant and what is not; we shall be able to judge the truth\nand importance of the various arguments offered. The chances are,\nhowever, that we shall not have given much previous thinking to the\nsubject, and that even if we have we shall not have gone as far as the\nauthor, who doubtless availed himself of other books. Consequently\ncertain problems which he takes up will not even have occurred to us,\nand hence will not have received our consideration.\n\nBut where our thinking has not helped us, and even where it has, we\nshould look critically upon every statement of an author, instead of\nlazily acquiescing in it. The difference between critical and ordinary\nreading, is that in the former we look for objections, in the latter\nwe wait until they happen to occur to us. Even then we do not hold our\nobjections steadily in mind; we are as likely as not to accept later\narguments based upon one we have previously objected to. In order to\navoid this perhaps the best we can do when we object to any statement\nor believe we have found a fallacy, is to make written note of it\nin the margin. To some extent this will prevent forgetting it. Too\nfew or too many marginal notes are both extremes to be shunned. If\nwe make too many we shall be apt to lose a true sense of proportion\nand fail to distinguish essential criticisms from nonessentials. The\nonly way we can keep clear of this extreme is to avoid quibbling and\nhair-splitting, making only such written criticisms as we feel we could\nunblushingly defend before the author himself. Often however we may\nfeel that a statement is untrue, or that an argument is fallacious, and\nyet be unable to point out just where or how it is so. In this case\nperhaps the best plan would be merely to put a question mark in the\nmargin in order to remind ourselves that the statement has not been\nfully accepted.\n\nWe ought to make sure what we object to because it is a peculiarity of\nthe human mind that it does not require evidence for a statement before\naccepting it; it generally accepts any statement which has no evidence\nagainst it. Unless we reject a statement and know why we have done so,\nit is liable to insinuate itself in our reasoning, and the longer it\nremains the more difficult it is to get rid of it. This is why it is so\nimportant to avoid as many pitfalls as possible at the beginning of a\nsubject.\n\nThe reader may find that even when he reads critically he will accept\na certain statement at the time; and then perhaps much later, say a\nmonth, an objection to that statement will occur to him, or he will see\nthat it at least ought to be qualified. For an explanation of this we\nmust go back to an analysis of the thinking process. Every idea which\nenters the mind, either from independent thinking or from reading, is\naccepted as true if it is in full conformity with our past experience\n_as we remember it_. In all thinking or reading, the new idea arouses\nassociates on its entrance. An hypothesis or principle, for instance,\narouses in our minds past experiences of particular instances. If all\nthese conform it is accepted. But in ordinary uncritical reading or\nthinking, only a few associates are aroused. In critical reading, we\nlook for as many associates as possible, especially those which do not\nconform. It is this purpose kept in mind which helps to recall and\nawaken these associates. No matter how critical our attitude, however,\nwe cannot at any given time recall every relevant associate, though\nlater a \u201cnon-conforming\u201d associate is likely to occur to us by pure\naccident.\n\nWhile you are criticising a book line by line, and after you have\nfinished reading it, you should note the importance and relevancy\nof the arguments accepted and rejected. While an author may make a\nstatement with which you disagree, its truth or falsehood may not\naffect the rest of what he has to say, or it may affect merely a few\ncorollaries drawn from it. In other cases the truth of his entire\nconclusion may depend upon it. Again, an author may incontrovertibly\nprove something\u2014which is entirely without bearing on the subject. This\nmeans that you should keep the precise question constantly before your\nmind.\n\nOften you will find an author making a statement which really amounts\nto nothing more than a mere airing of his prejudices, or at best the\nbare statement of a conclusion. If he says, \u201cSocialism is the greatest\nmenace of our civilization,\u201d and leaves it go at that, not telling how\nor why, you should mentally note this as a statement, as a statement\nmerely; you should not allow it to influence your opinion either way.\nFinally, remember that though you may be able to refute every argument\nan author brings forward in support of a conclusion, his conclusion may\nstill be correct. It is possible for a man to be right for the wrong\nreasons.\n\nWhile I believe all the foregoing suggestions are judicious and\nnecessary, I am willing to admit that their wisdom may reasonably\nbe doubted. But there is one practice about which there can be no\ncontroversy\u2014that of making sure you thoroughly understand every idea of\nan author. While most people will not verbally contradict this advice,\ntheir actual practice may be a continual contradiction of it. They will\nbe in such haste to finish a book that they will not stop to make sure\nthey really understand the more difficult or obscure passages. Just\nwhat they hope to gain it is difficult to say. If they think it is\nwasting time to try to understand every idea, it is surely a greater\nwaste of time to read an idea without understanding it. To be sure,\nthe difficulty of understanding may be the fault of the author. It may\nbe due to his involved and muddled way of expressing himself. It may\nbe the vagueness of the idea itself. But if anything this is all the\ngreater reason why you should attempt to understand it. It is the only\nway you can find whether or not the author himself really knew what\nhe was talking about. To understand thoroughly the thought of another\ndoes not necessarily mean to sympathize with it; it does not mean to\nask how that other came by it. It means merely to substitute as far\nas possible concrete mental images for the words he uses, and analyze\nthose images to discover to what extent they agree with facts.\n\nBetter to carry this out, you might follow another practice of immense\nvalue. Whenever you are puzzled as to an author\u2019s meaning, or whenever\nyou do not care to accept his solution of a problem but are undecided\nas to what the solution is, or whenever you want to carry an idea\nfurther than he has, or above all, whenever an original and important\nrelevant thought is suggested to you, you should take your eyes from\nyour book\u2014shut it if necessary\u2014and let your thinking flow on; give\nit fair play, even if it takes an hour before your vein of suggested\nthought exhausts itself. Of course this practice will prevent you from\nfinishing a book as soon as you otherwise would. And if finishing a\nbook be your aim, I have nothing to say. But if your end is to attain\ntrue, sound knowledge, knowledge which you will retain; if your object\nis to become a thinker, the practice will prove of unspeakable benefit.\nIt will not interfere with concentration. Remember your object is to\nconcentrate primarily on the subject, not on the book; you intend to\nbecome a thinker, not an interpreter or a commentator or a disciple of\nany author.\n\nAnd there are two reasons why this thinking should not be put off\nuntil after you have finished a book. The first and more important\nis that after you have finished reading, most of the ideas will have\nunrecallably dropped out of mind. The second is that when you are\nundecided about the solution of a problem, you will often find later\narguments depending upon that solution. Unless its truth or falsity is\ndecided in your own mind you will not know how to deal with these later\narguments.\n\nI have spoken of feeling that an argument is fallacious, and of being\nunable to point out just where it is so. To cease reading for a while,\nand to endeavor to make these inarticulate objections articulate,\nis excellent practice for training analytic powers and developing\nclearness of thought.\n\nAnother way of reading a book is what I may call the anticipating\nmethod. Whenever a writer has started to explain something, or\nwhenever you see that he is about to, stop reading and try to think\nout the explanation for yourself. Sometimes such thinking will\nanticipate only a paragraph, at other times an entire chapter. School\nand college text-books, and in fact formal text-books generally, often\ncontain lists of questions at the end of the chapters. Where you find\nthese, read them before you read the chapter, and where possible try\nto answer them by your own thinking. This practice will make you\nunderstand an explanation much more easily. If your thinking agrees\nwith the author\u2019s explanation it will give you self-confidence. It will\nmake you realize whether or not you understand an explanation. If you\nwere not able to think the thing out for yourself you will appreciate\nthe author\u2019s explanation. If your thinking disagrees with that of the\nauthor you will have an opportunity to correct him\u2014or be corrected. In\neither case your opinion will rest on firmer grounds. Not least of all\nyou will be getting practice in self-thinking.\n\nAfter reading and criticising a book, it is a good practice to study\none taking a different viewpoint, or written even in direct opposition.\nYou will doubtless find that it points out many fallacies and\ncontroverts many statements in the first book, which you allowed to\npass unchallenged. Ask yourself what the trouble was. Was your attitude\ntoo receptive? Did you swallow words without substituting clear mental\nimages? Did you fail to trace out the consequences of a statement? All\nthese questions will help you do better the next time.\n\nBecause of your ignorance of the facts, your failure to refute a\nconclusion will sometimes not be your fault. But even here, though you\ncannot contradict an author\u2019s statement of facts, you can criticise\nconclusions drawn from those facts.\n\nTake an instance. In making an inquiry into the causes of fatigue,\nProfessor Mosso of Turin selected two dogs as nearly alike as possible.\nOne he kept tied, and the other he exercised until it was thoroughly\ntired. He then transfused blood of the tired dog into the veins of the\nrested one, and produced in the latter every sign of fatigue. From this\nhe concluded that fatigue was due to certain poisons in the blood.\n\nNow we cannot contradict the fact of this experiment: that the rested\nanimal was made to look tired. But we can question the inference\ndrawn. The truth of the conclusion aside, was the evidence sufficient\nto establish it? Might not, for instance, similar results have been\nproduced upon the rested dog if blood of another rested dog had been\ntransfused into it? Had Mosso made such an experiment? Other objections\nshould easily occur to one.\n\nQuestions which admit of treatment by studying both sides are\ntoo numerous to mention. The literature of philosophy furnishes\nparticularly good material. Examples which at present occur to me\nare Sir William Hamilton\u2019s philosophy versus Mill\u2019s _Examination\nof Sir William Hamilton\u2019s Philosophy_, and Herbert Spencer\u2019s\n_First Principles_ versus William James\u2019 essay, _Herbert Spencer\u2019s\nAutobiography_ and Henri Bergson\u2019s criticism of Spencer in his\n_Creative Evolution_.\n\nUncritical students of the history of philosophy often find themselves\nagreeing with each thinker in turn, no matter how much he contradicts\nprevious thinkers, and end by acquiescing in the last system they read\nabout. I remember a philosophy class which completed its studies with\nPragmatism. Of course it was merely a coincidence, but at the end\nof the course fully nine-tenths of the students declared themselves\nPragmatists!\n\nIt is almost needless to remark that an author who pretends to point\nout fallacies in another is not necessarily right. There are men who\npride themselves on \u201creading both sides of a subject\u201d; but unless they\nhave been critical, their knowledge is not half as clear or as likely\nto be true as that of a man who has read only one side, but who has\nread it critically.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe have now to consider the next step outlined in the suggested plan of\nreading\u2014\u201cwritten note should be made of the problems taken up which you\ndo not believe have been adequately treated, or the solutions of which\nare in any way unsatisfactory. These you should think out for yourself.\u201d\n\nWhen reading a book you will often come across a statement, perhaps\nan entire chapter, with which you disagree. This disagreement should\nbe recorded in the form of a question; as for instance, \u201cIs such\nand such the case?\u201d You may doubt whether an author\u2019s explanation\nreally explains. You may have a vague inarticulate suspicion that he\nis sliding over facts, or that his solution is too superficial. This\nsuspicion should also be recorded in the form of a question. Often\nagain, while reading, a problem connected with the subject will occur\nto you which the author has not even considered. This too should be\nrecorded.\n\nAll these questions should unfailingly be written, either in the margin\nor on a piece of paper or notebook kept always at hand. You should\nthen set aside a definite time for thinking and attempt to solve the\nquestions for yourself.\n\nAnd in thinking for yourself you should not make the author\u2019s remarks\nthe basis of your thinking. You should deal with a problem almost\nas if it had never occurred to any one else but you. Simply because\nsomebody else has been satisfied with a certain solution, that is no\nreason why you should be. You should deal directly with the facts, data\nand phenomena under consideration; not with the opinions of others\nabout those facts, data and phenomena. You should not ask yourself\nwhether the pragmatists are right, or whether the nominalists are\nright, or the socialists, or the evolutionists, or the Democrats, or\nthe Presbyterians, or the hedonists, or what not. You should not ask\nyourself which \u201cschool\u201d of thinking you ought to belong to. You should\nthink a problem out _for yourself_, in every way that phrase implies.\nAt the end you may, incidentally, find yourself agreeing in the main\nwith some school of thought. However, this will be only accidental, and\nyour thought will be much more likely to be true. But you should never\nagree with a school of thought any more than independent thinking leads\nyou to.\n\nOf problems dealt with in this manner, some will take ten minutes,\nothers a week. If you encounter a particularly obstinate problem it\nmay be best to leave it for a while, say a week or two or even longer,\nand go on with other problems. When problems are thus recurrently\ntreated it may take months, even years, before a satisfactory solution\nis reached. In such cases you should be willing to give months and\neven years to their solution. If a problem is not important enough to\ndevote so much time to you may be forced to abandon it; but you should\nconstantly keep in mind the fact that you have not solved it, and you\nshould be willing to admit to others that you have not solved it. Never\nallow mere intellectual laziness to stifle your doubts and make you\nthink you have solved a problem, when you know in your heart of hearts\nthat you have worked yourself into the state of belief merely to save\nyourself mental discomfort.\n\nWhen most of your problems have been solved and your views made\ndefinite you may resume your reading. You may proceed to other books on\nthe subject.\n\nAs to the suggestion that another book on the subject might be dealt\nwith in the same manner as this first one: this will depend largely on\nthe individual subject. It will depend on just what books have been\nwritten on that subject. If none completely or adequately covers the\nfield, or if there are two or more good books representing radically\ndifferent viewpoints, more than one book probably ought to be studied\nin this comprehensive manner. But this must be left to the reader\u2019s\ndiscretion.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe come now to the last part of our plan\u2014\u201cafter that all books may be\nread \u2018hop, skip and jump\u2019 fashion, for the new problems or solutions\nthey suggest.\u201d\n\nI have already implied the necessity for this in formulating the law\nof diminishing returns. After we have read several books on a subject\nit would be manifestly foolish to continue reading books on that same\nsubject _in toto_. We would merely be going over again knowledge\nalready in our possession, instead of using our time more profitably\nby entering new territory. But any good book will contain _something_\nunique; some facts or principles to be found nowhere else; or perhaps\nmerely an unusually clear way of explaining some old principle, or a\nnew light on it. This we should endeavor to get without wasting our\ntime by plowing through the entire volume.\n\nTheoretically our problem is difficult; on its face it would seem\nimpossible. We are to read all the important parts of a book; that\nis, the parts most important _for us_, and nothing but the important\nparts. But until we read it how are we to know whether any given part\nof a book is important? In practice, however, our difficulty is not so\nformidable.\n\nWe can eliminate the greater mass of the relatively useless part of a\nbook by a glance at its table of contents. If we see there titles which\nsuggest subjects or aspects of subjects in which we are not interested,\nor that we feel we already know enough about, or that are simply\noutside the particular purpose we have in consulting that book at all,\nwe can omit those chapters and confine ourselves to the others.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nWhen we were children first learning to read we had to look at every\nletter in a word, then spell it out. Finally its meaning dawned upon\nus. As we became more proficient we did not have to look at every\nletter; we could read words as wholes with the same rapidity as the\nseparate letters. Accurate psychological tests have determined that a\nman can read such words as \u201cand\u201d and \u201cthe\u201d with even greater rapidity\nthan any single letter composing them. We finally reach the point where\nwe can read short phrases at the same rate as we formerly could single\nwords.\n\nBut the secret of the scholar who can cover efficiently much more\nground than ordinary men is not so much that he reads _faster_, as\nthat he reads _less_. In other words, instead of reading every word\nhe glances down a page and sees certain \u201ccue\u201d words or rather \u201ccue\u201d\nphrases, for the eye and mind take in phrases as wholes. If he is\nfamiliar with the subject (and he is not to employ this method unless\nand until he is) he knows immediately, by \u201ca sort of instinct\u201d as\nBuckle called it, whether any new or valuable thought is on that page.\nWhen he finds that there is he involuntarily slackens his pace and\nreads that thought at ordinary reading pace or even slower. Sometimes\nindeed he will read whole chapters slowly, word for word, if the\ncontents are sufficiently novel and important to warrant it.\n\nRead by this \u201chop, skip and jump\u201d fashion a book the size of the\npresent volume might take an hour or even less. But it is almost\nimpossible to give even an approximate estimate of the time such\nreading ought to take. Of course the longer you spend the more you\nwill get out of a book, but the return per time invested will be less\nand less. On the other hand if you read the book too fast you may be\nwasting your time altogether; you may end by understanding nothing at\nall. Much will depend upon the originality and depth of the book, upon\nthe reader\u2019s familiarity with the subject, and upon his native mental\nqualities.\n\nMany may object to practicing the foregoing method because they have\na vague feeling that it is their duty to read every word in a book. I\nsuspect that the real reason for this is simply so that when asked they\ncan conscientiously say they have _read_ the book. Whereas if they had\nfollowed this skipping method they would be able to say only that they\nhad \u201cglanced through it\u201d or at best that they had \u201cread parts of it.\u201d\nTo this objection I have nothing to say, for I am confining my remarks\nto those in search of truth and knowledge rather than conversation and\nthe good opinion of those who believe that reading from cover to cover\nis the only path to wisdom. I might point out in passing, however, that\nif we do follow this method there will be a half dozen books which we\ncan say we have \u201cglanced through\u201d to one which we would otherwise have\nbeen able to say we had \u201cread.\u201d\n\nThis way of dealing with a book is constructive and positive as opposed\nto the negative method of critical reading. For we read for suggestion\nonly; we carry forward some line of thought of an author, which is\nbetter for intellectual development than trying to find if he was\nwrong and where he was wrong. Not only is this positive method more\ninteresting; in some respects it is better even for criticism. For in\ncarrying forward an author\u2019s line of thought, noting its consequences\nand implications and considering different cases where it applies, we\nfind whether or not it leads to absurd conclusions; whether or not all\nconcrete instances conform with it. It should be kept in mind that this\nmethod is not to be followed until the main text-book has been studied.\nConsequently when it is followed your mind will have been fortified by\nprevious reading and thinking; valuable thoughts of an author will tend\nto impress you and be remembered, while his trite or erroneous ideas\nwill tend to be ignored.\n\nBut after all, what is important is not your attitude or method at\nthe time of reading a book, but the thinking done later. The critical\nattitude has its shortcomings, for when we are on the lookout for an\nauthor\u2019s mistakes we often miss the full significance of his truths.\nOn the other hand when \u201creading for suggestion\u201d we may too often allow\nan error to pass unquestioned. But both these disadvantages may be\novercome if we do enough thinking afterward.\n\nOnly one thing I must insist on: make sure you understand every\nsentence of a book. Do not \u201cguess\u201d you understand it. Do not slide\nover it in the hope that the author will explain it later. Do not work\nyourself into the belief that after all it is not really important.\nRather than this, better by far do not read the book at all. Not only\nwill you get little or nothing from it but you will be forming the\nworst of intellectual habits\u2014that of thinking you understand when\nyou do not. If you have made every reasonable effort to understand\nan author and then have not succeeded, write in the margin \u201cI do not\nunderstand this,\u201d or draw a line alongside the sentence or passage. If\nyou have to do this too often you should put the volume aside for a\ntime. It is either too advanced for you or it is not worth reading.\n\nAs to the thinking you do after reading. Often problems connected with\nthe subject of a book you have read may arise spontaneously in mind,\nor an objection to a statement may suddenly occur to you when thinking\non some other topic. Of course when this happens you should not stifle\nyour thoughts. But besides this, definite periods should be put aside\nfor thinking on what you have read and on the problems you have\nwritten. I cannot insist on this too strenuously or too often.\n\nA good task to set before yourself is to take every idea you agree with\nin a book and try to treat it as a \u201cgerm.\u201d Tell yourself that you will\ndevelop it beyond the point where the author left off. Of course this\nwill not always be possible. You will seldom succeed. But there is\nnothing like hitching your wagon to a star, and it will do no harm to\nset this up as an ideal.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA few miscellaneous problems remain to be considered.\n\nHow should we deal with authors with whom we disagree fundamentally?\nHerbert Spencer relates that he twice started Kant\u2019s _Critique of\nPure Reason_, but disagreeing fundamentally with the first and main\nproposition he ceased reading. Now to do this is to give an author too\nmuch credit for consistency. For even if every other proposition he\nsets forth is ostensibly a corollary from his leading one, some of them\nwill contain much truth. It is impossible to be consistently wrong.\nAdd to this the possibility that the author may be right on his first\nproposition after all. However, no book with a viewpoint radically\ndifferent from our own should be used as a main text, for we would\nget little benefit from it. If the book is by an obscure author we\nmay safely lay it aside altogether. But if it is by so famous and so\nbepraised a philosopher as Kant we should at least glance through the\nentire volume for suggestions.\n\nHow many times ought we to read a book? I have already partly answered\nthis in formulating the law of diminishing returns. Few books are worth\nre-reading. Rather than read one book twice on any given subject it\nwill most often be more profitable to read another book on it. For the\nsecond will not only serve as a review of previous knowledge, but will\nfurnish you with new ideas, different aspects and new problems.\n\nCertain books, however, can never be replaced by others. They occupy\nthis position either because they deal with a subject not elsewhere\ndealt with or because they take an entirely novel aspect, or solely\nbecause they are the works of supreme genius, for while the main\nconclusions reached in works of this last type may be found elsewhere,\nthe _manner of thinking_ can never be. These books should be read\ntwice. The main text-book selected on any subject will usually be\nchosen because it is the best and most comprehensive work on that\nsubject. For this reason it should be read a second time even if such\nreading is only of the hop, skip and jump variety.\n\nWe should not re-read a book immediately upon the first completion\nbut should always allow a long interval to elapse. There are several\nreasons for this. After an interval we acquire perspective; we are\nin a position to know whether a book has done us any good and just\nabout how much. We may find after this interval that a work of which\nwe thought quite highly at the time of reading has really not helped\nus appreciably either in thought or action. We may find that we have\noutgrown the need of it. Even if we finally decide to re-read we shall\nfind the wait of immense help to our memory. If we re-read a book after\nan interval of six months, three years after our second reading we will\nremember its contents much better than if we had read it three times\nin unbroken succession. Add to this that in the lapse of time we shall\nhave forgotten most of the work, and shall therefore approach it the\nsecond time with greater interest than if it were still fresh in mind;\nthat our experience, reading and thinking in the meantime will make us\nsee every sentence in a different light, enabling us to judge our own\nmarginal criticisms (if we have made any) as well as the book, and the\nadvantage of waiting cannot be doubted. I do not believe it will ever\nbe necessary to read a book more than twice, that is, so far as thought\nand knowledge are concerned. With books read for their style or for\nmere amusement the case is different.\n\nHow long should one read at a sitting? Some men find that their\nthought is choked by reading. Some find it stimulated. But results\nvary according to the length of time reading is carried on. Reading\nfor very long periods at a stretch often deadens original thought. The\nwriter finds that he nearly always derives benefit from reading for\nshort periods, say ten or fifteen minutes. This is in some measure due\nto the increased concentration which short periods allow. On the other\nhand, some people find that a certain momentum is acquired during long\nreading periods. The reader can only experiment to find how long a\nperiod best suits his individual case.\n\nHow about concentration? This has been considered in relation to\nindependent thinking, but in reading the problem is somewhat different.\nIn thinking our task is to choose relevant associates. In reading the\nassociates are chosen for us. Our task is to stick to them, instead of\nfollowing the associates which occur to us either from what we read\nor from sights and sounds about us. But associates which occur to us\nfrom what we read are of two kinds: relevant and irrelevant, and the\nformer should of course be followed out. This however should be done\ndeliberately, in the manner I have previously indicated, and when the\nvein of suggested thought has been exhausted we should bring attention\nback to our book. The problem of concentration is not a very serious\none in reading. It may sometimes be difficult to concentrate on a book.\nBut it is infinitely easier than concentrating on a problem by unaided\nindependent thought.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe plan of reading I have laid out is merely suggestive. What I\nchiefly wanted to show was that all books cannot be treated alike, that\nwe cannot lay down dogmatic inflexible rules to apply to every volume.\nOur method of reading will vary with the nature of a book or of the\nsubject it treats. It will depend upon the books we have already read\nand even upon the books we contemplate reading later.\n\nThe good you get out of reading will depend entirely on how you allow\nit to affect you. If every book you read suggests more problems,\ngives you worth-while questions and topics to think about in spare\nmoments, enriches your intellectual life and stimulates your thought,\nit is performing its proper function. But if you read solely to answer\nproblems you cannot answer for yourself, if every time you are puzzled\nabout anything you run to a book to have it explained, and accept\nwithout question the explanation there given; in short, if you use your\nreading to save yourself from thinking, you had better stop reading\naltogether. Smoking is a far less harmful form of dissipation.\n\nI have not yet definitely indicated the ratio which time given to\nreading should bear to time devoted to thinking. I have avoided this\nbecause of the many factors to be taken into account. But if the reader\nhappens to have a spare hour to devote to the improvement of his mind,\nhe will not go very far wrong if he gives thirty minutes to reading and\nthirty minutes to thinking. His thinking may be on the subject he has\nread, or part of it may be on other problems. That is not so important.\nBut the reader must not imagine that his thinking need be restricted\nto these thirty minutes or any other thirty minutes. The glorious\nadvantage of thinking is that it can be fitted in at any odd moment.\nThe entire apparatus for carrying it on is always with you. You do not\neven need a book for it. I remind the reader of this at the risk of\nrepeating myself.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was pointed out at the beginning of this chapter that the reading\nof any book is not an end in itself, but should be subordinated to the\nlarger end of obtaining the best from reading in general. But for the\nsake of clearness our end was temporarily considered as the mastery of\nsome particular subject. I indicated a plan of reading to best serve\nthat end. I also promised that needful qualifications would come later.\n\nIn stating the law of diminishing returns it was pointed out that it\napplied to whole subjects as well as to books, that \u201cpast a certain\npoint every book we read on a subject, while it will probably add to\nour knowledge, will not yield as much return as a book of equal merit\non another subject new to us.\u201d\n\nWhile this is true it applies to but a small extent when subjects are\nread by the method just outlined, for while we do not get as much out\nof any book as we would out of one of equal merit on another subject,\nwe read it so much faster that the return per time and energy expended\nis practically as great. This fast reading is made possible by our\nprevious knowledge on the old subject. If the book on the new subject\nwere read in the same manner, we might get little or nothing from it.\n\nWith this objection out of the way I suggest that the reader get a\nspecialty. Books read in the ordinary unsystematic fashion, now on\nthis subject and now on that, leave little permanent impression. Even\nif they do, we feel that though our range of reading may be wide we\nhave at best but a smattering of many things. In the final analysis\na smattering of knowledge is in most cases of no more use than total\nignorance. Better by far be ignorant of many things and know one thing\nwell, than know many things badly.\n\nBesides the utility of having a specialty is the pleasure we derive.\nThere is always an intense satisfaction in feeling that one is an\n\u201cexpert,\u201d an \u201cauthority\u201d in some subject. When some Congressman makes\nan inaccurate remark which trespasses on your specialty you can write\na letter to the _Times_ or the _Sun_ explaining the error of his ways,\nand incidentally exhibiting your own limitless erudition. When your\nfriends get into an argument on some question within your chosen field\nthey will remark, \u201cAsk John Jones. He ought to know.\u201d And even when\nyou have to confess abysmal ignorance on some question outside of your\ndomains, you may still have the satisfaction of believing that people\nare excusing you within themselves with an \u201cOh, well, but he knows a\nlot about someology.\u201d\n\nOne writer estimates that \u201cfifteen minutes a day or a half hour three\ndays a week devoted to one definite study will make one a master in\nthat field in a dozen years.\u201d[20] This statement should interest\nthose people who \u201chaven\u2019t the time\u201d to take up any specialty outside\ntheir own business, but who spend at least half an hour every day in\nnewspaper or magazine reading\u2014with nothing to show for it at the end\nof twenty years.\n\nJust what subject you make your specialty I am not at present\nconcerned. It may be aeronautics, astronomy, banking, Greek history,\ndifferential calculus, social psychology, electricity, music,\nphilosophy of law, submarines, soap manufacture, religion, metaphysics,\nsun-motors, education, literary style or the moon. But whatever it\nis, it ought to be a subject in which you are interested for its\nown sake\u2014which most frequently means one which you do not make your\nvocation. If you get tired of it, drop it and take up something in\nwhich you are interested. Your thinking and study should be pursued as\na pleasure\u2014not as a duty.\n\nIf your subject is a narrow one, if let us say it is merely a branch of\nwhat is generally considered a science, you should first get a clear\nidea of the broad outlines of the science before taking the specialty\nup. Should you, for instance, select the tariff, begin your study by\nusing as your main text a book on general economics.\n\nEven if you make your specialty an entire science you will derive\ngreat help by reading in other sciences. In ethics, for instance, a\nknowledge of psychology, biology and sociology will prove of surprising\nvalue. This means that for the sake of knowing the specialty itself,\nif for nothing else, you should not pursue it exclusively. If ever you\nfind yourself in danger of doing this it would be well to lay down a\nrule that every third or fourth book you read must be one which does\nnot deal with the subject you have chosen as your own.\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\nWRITING ONE\u2019S THOUGHTS\n\n\n Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an\n exact man.\u2014BACON.\n\nAny attempt to formulate a science or art of thinking would not be\ncomplete without at least some discussion of writing. Indeed writing is\nso closely bound up with thinking that I have been compelled to refer\nto it several times in the discussion of thought and reading.\n\nI have already spoken of writing as an aid to concentration. I was wont\nto depreciate it on account of its slowness. But this is practically\nits only fault. Thoughts come to us when writing which we get in no\nother way. One is often surprised, when reading something one has\nwritten at a previous time, at some of the remarks made. We seem to\nhave temporarily grown wiser than ourselves.\n\nBut the great advantage of writing is that it preserves thought. What\nprinting has done for humanity in preserving the knowledge of the ages,\nwriting will do for the individual in preserving his own reflections.\n\nWhen some thought has occurred to us we believe at the time we are\nthinking it that it is ours forever. We cannot conceive that it shall\never be forgotten. Perish that belief! I have sometimes had an idea\noccur to me (really!), and have believed it absolutely new, at least\nso far as I was concerned. But on looking over things written before,\nI have found that I had had almost identically the same thought at\nanother time. Not only did I forget the idea; I did not even recognize\nit at its second appearance. To be sure, in these cases the thoughts\ncame a second time. But thoughts are seldom so obliging.\n\nTherefore when an idea occurs or when you have solved a problem, even\na problem suggested by a book, you should immediately put the idea\nor solution in writing. You may of course wait until the end of the\nday. But the safest way of capturing an idea is to write it the minute\nafter it flashes through your brain, or it may be lost forever.\nIt was with this in mind that in the chapter on reading I advised\nimmediately writing not only ideas but problems which occurred to one.\nThe discovery of a new problem is just as important and necessary for\nintellectual advance as the solution of an old one. If we do not write\nour problems we are apt to forget they exist; we put ourselves in\ndanger of assuming without question some proposition which is not true.\n\nTo facilitate the writing of your thoughts and meditations I suggest\na notebook kept specially for that purpose. In addition to this you\nshould always carry about with you some blank paper and a pencil, so\nas to be ever ready to jot down anything. To write an idea does not of\ncourse imply that you cannot later reject it, or change it, or develop\nit further.\n\nThe elusiveness of thoughts is most strikingly brought out when writing\nthem down. When we are writing a long sentence we have in mind the\nexact words with which we are going to finish it. But our attention is\ncalled for the moment to the physical act of writing, and presto!\u2014the\nwords are gone; we are compelled to end our sentence in a different\nway. I have mentioned the advantages of shorthand and typewriting for\nkeeping pace with thought. I need merely repeat my advice to use these\nacquirements if you have them. Thoughts, I must repeat, are fleeting.\nNo device for trapping them should be despised.\n\nNot least among the advantages of a notebook in which to write thoughts\nis the permanent historical record it gives. Every thought we write\nshould be dated, day, month and year, like a letter. When we come\nto read over ideas jotted down from time to time in this manner, we\nshall see before us an intellectual autobiography. We shall see how\nour recent thoughts compare with those written sometime ago. We shall\nsee just what our opinions were at certain times, and how they have\nchanged. And we shall see whether our mental progress has been marked,\nor whether we have been standing still.\n\nIt may be considered absurd to suggest that every thought you write in\nyour note-book be put in the best style you can command. We are wont\nto differentiate \u201cstyle\u201d and \u201cmatter.\u201d It is doubtful whether this\ndistinction is quite valid. It is doubtful whether we know just what we\nmean when we make it. Indeed Arnold Bennett goes so far as to say:\n\n\u201cStyle cannot be distinguished from matter. When a writer conceives\nan idea he conceives it in the form of words. That form of words\nconstitutes his style, and it is absolutely governed by the idea. The\nidea can only exist in words, it can only exist in one form of words.\nYou cannot say exactly the same thing in two different ways. Slightly\nalter the expression, and you slightly alter the idea. Surely it is\nobvious that the expression cannot be altered without altering the\nthing expressed! The writer, having conceived and expressed an idea,\nmay, and probably will, \u2018polish it up.\u2019 But what does he polish up? To\nsay that he polishes up his style is merely to say that he polishes up\nhis idea, that he has discovered faults and imperfections in his idea,\nand is perfecting it. The idea exists in proportion as it is expressed;\nit exists when it is expressed, and not before. It expresses itself. A\nclear idea is expressed clearly and a vague idea vaguely.\u201d[21]\n\nMr. Bennett, I suspect, is a victim of exaggeration. But this much is\ntrue: Thought and style are mutually dependent to a far greater degree\nthan is generally supposed. Not only will an improvement in a thought\nimprove its wording; an improvement in wording will improve the thought.\n\nNow as to the application of this. I have referred to the occurrence\nin reading of \u201cinarticulate\u201d objections. The sole reason these are\ninarticulate is because the objection is too vague even to find\nexpression. In a case like this we should word our objection the best\nwe can, no matter how ridiculous or indefensible it at first sounds.\nBut we should word it in as many ways as possible; we should say it\nin all different sorts of ways; we should write it in every different\nkind of way. Gradually our objection will become definite, clear,\nforceful. In short, we shall not only have improved our way of stating\nour thought; we shall have improved the thought itself. To study\nclearness of statement or acquisition of vocabulary is to study means\nof improving thought. Your notebook should not be used solely for the\nentry of \u201cthoughts\u201d as such, but any striking way of wording a thought\nwhich occurs to you should likewise be immediately written.\n\nBut while there is some truth in Arnold Bennett\u2019s statement that the\nwording is the thought, from another point of view its very opposite\nis true. The wording is _never_ the thought. Strictly speaking,\n\u201cthought\u201d is something which can exist only in the mind. It can never\nbe transferred to paper. What then is it that we write? If words and\nsentences are not thought, what are they? If they are not thought how\nis it possible to transfer thought through the medium of writing?\n\nThe fact is that words, though they are not thought, are the\n_associates_ of thought. You hear the word \u201chorse.\u201d Very likely the\nvisual image of a horse arises in mind. This image, idea, notion,\n\u201cconcept,\u201d will depend on your experience of particular horses. It will\nnever be a logical abstract of these. It will never be a horse without\ncolor, particular size, sex or breed, as is sometimes thought. It may\nhowever have different elements in it from different horses you have\nseen. It may be the image of just one particular horse you remember.\nBut no such thing as a general concept exists in the mind. We have a\nparticular image which stands for all horses. The name of course is\ngeneral. It\u2014or its definition\u2014may be called the logical concept. But\nthe name itself is not used in thought. It is an arbitrary symbol which\nserves merely to arouse a particular image associated with it, and\nthis image is dealt with as if general. This image we shall call the\nconcept. It is the working concept: the psychological as opposed to the\nlogical concept.\n\nAs your concept of a horse will depend on your experience of particular\nhorses, another person\u2019s concept will depend on _his_ experience of\nthat animal. And as his experience can never be exactly the same as\nyours, his concept, though it may be similar to yours, will not be the\nsame. Not only will no one else have the same mental image or concept\nas you _but you yourself will never have exactly the same image twice_.\nThis image will vary with the setting in which it occurs\u2014with the\nassociates which happen to arouse it. If you are reading about a great\nbattle and the word \u201chorse\u201d is mentioned, a certain kind of horse will\nsuggest itself to you. If you are reading about a grocery wagon and see\nthe word \u201chorse\u201d another kind will suggest itself. This whether the\nanimal is described by adjectives or not. At one time you may think of\nthe horse as in motion, at another time as at rest.\n\nUnfortunately many so-called psychologists seem to consider the\nconcept, even this image-concept, as something fixed in the individual,\nor at best as only changing with actual experience of the thing\nconceived. The truth is that the image or images aroused on hearing\nany word are not the same for two seconds at a time. They are fluid,\ndynamic; never static, immobile. They are associates of the words\nin a constant state of flux.[22] When the concept of one individual\nvaries from one moment to the next, how must the concepts of different\nindividuals differ from each other!\n\nI have instanced the idea of a horse because it is so simple and\nconcrete. In actual thinking we never meet with a simple separated\nconcept or with a single word; we deal with at least an entire\nsentence. This means that our images vary even more widely at different\ntimes than was the case in the example. It means that the images of\nother people are at a correspondingly greater variance from ours.\n\nAs to the application of all this to writing. We have an idea; thinking\nit important we decide to jot it down. Now we cannot jot down the idea,\nbut only words associated with it. We cannot even write all the words\nassociated with it, for there are too many. So we write a comparative\nfew; and we say we have written the idea. _But all we have really\nwritten is something associated with the idea._ When we read this over\nat a later time we shall not have the same ideas aroused as were in\nmind originally, but at best only similar ideas. For the associates of\nwords, like all associates, are constantly changing; and thanks to the\nfrailties of human memory exactly the same associates are never aroused\ntwice. So after a long interval they will be much different than at the\ntime we wrote. The reader will often have the experience of \u201cwriting a\nthought\u201d and thinking it very important, but on reading it at another\ntime he will fail to see why he ever considered it worth putting on\npaper. The truth is that at the time he wrote the idea it probably\n_was_ important, because he had the right concepts. But when he came\nback to the words he had written they failed to re-suggest the former\nconcepts and associates.\n\nThis difference between words and thought is even more strikingly\nbrought out when the written thought is read by some other person than\nthe writer. The writer is likely at least to have approximately the\nsame concepts as at the time of writing. And he is greatly aided by his\nmemory in recalling the concepts and associated ideas previously in\nmind, the words suggesting these. But when a person reads what some one\nelse has written, he translates the words into the concepts previously\nconnected with them in his own mind. Thus an author can never literally\ntransfer an idea. He can merely put down certain arbitrary symbols,\nwhich will serve to arouse a similar thought in his readers. How\ngreatly the reader\u2019s thought differs from the author\u2019s it is difficult\nif not impossible to determine, for minds can only communicate by\nwords. It is this difference in associated concept which often makes a\nreader fail to appreciate the profoundest thoughts of an author, and\neven, on the other hand, occasionally to see depth where it does not\nexist.\n\nWe come now to the solution of the problem to which this rather\nextended discussion has been preparatory. How is an author to convey,\nas nearly as possible, his actual idea? And the answer is: _he should\nword it in as many different ways as possible_.\n\nIf a person had never been to a city and you wanted to give him an idea\nof it, you would show him photographs taken from different viewpoints.\nOne photograph would correct and supplement the other. And the more\nphotographic viewpoints he saw the more complete and accurate would be\nhis idea\u2014the more his concept would approximate the actual city. But he\ncould never more than approximate; he could never obtain the idea of a\nman who had visited that city.\n\nAn author\u2019s language is a photograph of his thought. He can never\nactually transfer an idea, but by wording it in different ways he can\nshow different photographs of it.\n\nIf, for example, a second wording does not conform with the first\nconcept which a reader has formed, the reader will be obliged to modify\nthat concept. And if the idea is repeated in a number of different ways\nhe will have to modify his concept so much that he will gradually more\nand more approximate the idea of the author.\n\nI remember the story in some educational treatise of an inspector who\nentered a school room, asked the teacher what she had been giving her\nclass, and finally took up a book and asked the following question,\n\u201cIf you were to dig a hole thousands and thousands of feet deep, would\nit be cooler near the bottom or near the top, and why?\u201d Not a child\nanswered. Finally the teacher said, \u201cI\u2019m sure they know the answer but\nI don\u2019t think you put the question in the right way.\u201d So taking the\nbook she asked, \u201cIn what state is the center of the earth?\u201d Immediately\ncame the reply from the whole class in chorus, \u201cThe center of the earth\nis in a state of _igneous fusion_.\u201d\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nThere is, and has been for the past generation, a great cry in\neducational circles that we should teach things, not words. In some\ninstances this is inadvisable, even impracticable. But if the teacher\nin the foregoing story had taken the trouble to word her idea in at\nleast more than one way, she might have implanted a real idea in her\npupils. She would at least have found that as it was they had none.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOne more question remains. If you are writing a composition, a letter,\nan essay, or even a book, what is the best way to get down all your\nthoughts, without losing any of value; to get them down in the best\norder and in the best style? In other words what is the path of\ngreatest efficiency in transferring thoughts from your mind to paper?\n\nWe have already considered such devices as shorthand. Of course\ndictation, where it is possible, is an obvious advantage. But I mean\nhere to consider the aspects of the problem which apply more especially\nto compositions of some length.\n\nIt is related of Auguste Comte that he composed his books by thinking\nthem over down to the minutest details, down to the very phraseology\nof the sentences, before penning a single word, but that when he came\nto writing he could turn out an astounding amount of work in a given\ntime. Unless a person have a remarkable memory, however, he will forget\nmost of what he has thought by the time he comes to writing it. Comte\u2019s\nmethod might nevertheless be profitably applied to short sections of\ncompositions. And where conciseness or perspicuity are desired, it will\noften be found useful to think out an entire sentence before writing a\nword of it.\n\nPerhaps the best way of ensuring efficiency in writing is by the card\nsystem. This consists in writing on a separate card every valuable idea\nthat occurs to you, immediately after it occurs. When you finally come\nto writing you can arrange these cards in any order desired, throwing\nout the ideas you no longer consider important, and adding those which\nare necessary to complete or round out the work.\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\nTHINGS WORTH THINKING ABOUT\n\n\n The man who cannot wonder, who does not habitually wonder, is but a\n pair of spectacles behind which there is no eye.\u2014CARLYLE.\n\nUp to now I have treated exclusively of _how_ to think, but have made\nno mention of _what_ to think. I have treated of the best methods of\ndealing with different subjects and questions; I have not considered\nwhat subjects or problems are most worth dealing with.\n\nOf course the important thing is that you do think. It is not\nabsolutely essential that the results of your thinking are results\nwhich can be directly made use of. Thinking is an end in itself. Most\nmen imagine that \u201cthinking for the sake of thinking\u201d may appeal to\nphilosophers, but means nothing to them, as they like to think only\nwhen by so doing they can forward some practical end. These people do\nthemselves an injustice.\n\nPerhaps you, O reader, are among them. If so, let me appeal to your\npersonal experience. Have you ever tried to solve a toy puzzle, tried\nto take the two wire hooks apart without bending them? Or have you\never stopped to tackle a problem on the family page of your evening\nor Sunday newspaper? \u201cA grocer buys fifteen dozen eggs, he sells\u2014\u201d\nyou know what I mean. You admit that you have. Exactly. You have been\nthinking for the mere sake of thinking.\n\nIf you protest that you didn\u2019t care about the thinking, that you took\nno pleasure in the thinking, which was merely incidental, but that\nwhat really urged you on and gave you pleasure was the solution of\nthe puzzle, you are again deceiving yourself. The thinking was not\nincidental. Thinking and problem solving are identical. The fact is\nthat you set yourself to solving a problem, to removing a mental\nhindrance, for the mere sake of getting the answer, with absolutely no\nthought of what you were going to do with the answer when you got it.\n\nBut if you can derive so much pleasure from thinking which you cannot\nput to use, how much greater should be your pleasure when your\nconclusions can be utilized? For when you think of something useful,\nyou have not only the present pleasure of solving your problem, but\nthe ulterior pleasure of applying your solution to action, or to the\nsolution of some further problem. And while I again admit that thinking\nis an end in itself, this does not prevent it from being at the same\ntime a means to some further end. After all is said there is really no\nreason why we should be prejudiced against problems or subjects that\nare useful.\n\nThe mere decision that we should think of useful questions is\ninsufficient. Very few questions are without _some_ use. Even the\nsolution of the family page puzzle might some day be useful in solving\na similar problem arising in your own business; and even if this never\ncame to pass you might spring the puzzle on your friends, and make\nyourself socially more interesting. Thought given to a question in a\ndebating book now before me, \u201cResolved, that Ferocious Wild Beasts are\nmore to be dreaded than Venomous Reptiles,\u201d might result in knowledge\nwhich would come handy in selecting equipment if one decided to journey\nto the wilderness of South America. But there are millions of problems\nof as much use as these; and it is not within the power of one lone\nmortal, of years three score and ten, to compass even a corner of them.\nOur question is not\u2014what problems are of use?, but\u2014of _how much_ use\nare certain problems?, or stated in another way,\u2014what is the _relative_\nutility of problems?\n\nAny adequate consideration of this question would involve the selection\nof some criterion for utility, and the testing of individual problems\nby that criterion. But to treat such a question with anything like\njustice is beyond the scope of this book; it would require almost\na volume in itself. It is almost the same as the problem, What\nknowledge is of most worth?, and the most masterly treatise on that\nquestion which has ever been written can be found in Herbert Spencer\u2019s\nepoch-making little work, _Education_. I sincerely hope that the reader\nstudy this. But I hope even more earnestly that before he does so he\nfirst think the problem out independently, for it is one of the most\nimportant he can put before himself.\n\nBut our present question\u2014that of the relative importance of\nproblems\u2014is slightly different from that of the relative importance\nof knowledge. The first deals with thought and the second with\ninformation, or the materials of thought; the first with a process of\ngetting knowledge and the second with knowledge itself.\n\nI believe for example that a knowledge of his own body and of the\nlaws of health is the most valuable a man can have, but there are few\nproblems concerning the body which I would include in the first rank.\nThere are several reasons for this. In the first place, while it may\nbe true that such questions _taken as a whole_ are more important than\nany other class of questions, taken separately they are relatively\nminor; there are no one or two questions of all-encompassing importance\nto which all the others are subsidiary. Moreover, such questions,\nwhile they undoubtedly require thought for their solution, depend to a\nrelatively great extent on observation and experiment. No sane medical\nstudent would sit down and follow out a lengthy course of reasoning\nas to where the heart is; he would merely observe or dissect, or\nconsult the book of a man who had dissected, and save mental fatigue.\nNot least of all, questions of physiology require extensive, highly\ntechnical and detailed information\u2014information which requires years of\nspecial study to acquire\u2014before any thinking that is at all safe can be\nput upon them. So in estimating the relative value of problems, there\nare other considerations besides the value of knowledge.\n\nBut it is not my purpose here to discuss the general principles upon\nwhich the selection of worth-while questions should be made. That\ntask I leave to the reader. I have chosen rather the concrete path of\nsuggesting a list of questions which I consider of great import. I\nbelieve that no matter how much thought the reader gives to any one of\nthem he will not be losing his time.\n\nI have elsewhere pointed out that the more knowledge a man has the\nmore problems he will have. It is equally true that unless a man has\nsome knowledge on a subject he will not be able to appreciate or even\nunderstand some of its most important problems. It is only when we\nbegin to think of subjects that we discover problems and realize their\nsignificance. In stating most of the following problems, therefore, I\nhave often thought it necessary to add a few sentences in explanation,\nand have sometimes stated a question in a variety of forms in order to\nmore clearly convey the thought.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Are specific characteristics, acquired during the lifetime of an\nindividual, inherited by his offspring?_ I have referred so often to\nthis problem and its importance that further explanation is hardly\nnecessary. \u201cCharacteristics\u201d of course refer to intellectual and moral\nas well as physical characteristics.\n\n_What is the influence of the individual mind on society and of social\nenvironment on the individual?_\n\n_Does the form of government determine the character of a people, or\ndoes the character of a people determine their form of government?_\nOr do government and character react on each other, and how? The same\nquestion may be asked of all other social institutions. Does the\nreligion of a people determine their character, or does the character\nof a people determine their religion? This whole problem is somewhat\nsimilar to that immediately preceding, regarding the interaction of the\nindividual and the social mind.\n\n_Is society for the benefit of the individual or is the individual for\nthe benefit of society?_\n\n_Should the jurisdiction of the government be extended or curtailed?_\nOr should it be extended in some directions and curtailed in others?\nDoes the answer to this problem depend on the answer to the previous\none? Another form of the same problem is: What is the proper sphere of\ngovernment?\n\n_Should the government grant monopolies?_ Patents, for example?\n\n_What would be the most practicable plan for abolishing or minimizing\nwar?_ Those who do not wish to beg the previous question may first\nask whether it is always desirable to prevent war, whether war is\nalways an evil. What is the effect of war on the physical future of\nthe race? on national and individual character? on government? on\nnational liberty? on personal liberty? What are the ethics of war?\nfor aggression? for territorial conquest? for \u201cnational honor\u201d? for\ndefense of a weaker nation? for defense against invasion? What is the\neffect of preparedness? of universal preparedness? of preparedness of\nan individual nation? In each case what are the principles on which the\nextent of preparedness should be determined? What are the fundamental\ncauses of war? How can they be removed? Is it possible to remove all of\nthem?\n\n_Which is the rightful owner of land, the community or the individual?_\nTo state the problem in another form: Should private land ownership be\nabolished?\n\n_Who should be entitled to vote?_ This of course is a question similar\nto woman suffrage, but it is much broader. It deals not only with the\nqualification of sex, but of age. Should any one under twenty-one have\nthe vote? The validity of property and educational qualifications\nshould also be considered.\n\n_How should the relations of the sexes be regulated?_ Put in slightly\nnarrower and perhaps less objectionable form: What would be just laws\ngoverning marriage and divorce?\n\n_What is the effect of attempted State interference with the law of\nsupply and demand?_ Does the unrestricted working out of this law\nforward ultimate justice? Just what is the validity and the meaning\nof the expression \u201cThe _law_ of supply and demand\u201d? The question\ncould be taken up in connection with minimum wage laws, railroad rate\nregulations, \u201cextra crew\u201d laws, etc.\n\n_Which is the best policy: free trade, revenue tariff, or protective\ntariff?_ Or under what conditions is each best? With what classes of\ncommodities?\n\n_What would be an equitable and sound currency system?_ This question\nis somewhat technical, and would have to be considered in the form of a\nnumber of subsidiary problems. Ought money to have an intrinsic value?\nWhat is the effect of \u201cfiat\u201d paper currency on money of intrinsic\nvalue and on prices? The effect of credit? The effect of fluctuations\nin the supply of gold? Ought there be a double standard or a multiple\nstandard? etc.\n\n_Should conduct be judged by the pleasure or happiness it yields?_\nStated in another form, almost a different problem: Is utility a good\nmoral guide?\n\n_Should conduct be judged by its tendency to produce individual\nwell-being, or should it be judged by its tendency to produce the\nwell-being of all humanity, or of all sentient beings?_ This problem\ncannot be lightly dismissed in favor of universal well-being.\nThis becomes apparent when we attempt to give an undogmatic and\nnon-question-begging answer to the query: Why should a man act for the\nbenefit of others?\n\nNo science is more provocative of thought than ethics. The question of\nwhether acts should be declared good or bad as they tend to produce\npleasure or happiness, either individual or in humanity as a whole, or\nwhether \u201cvirtue\u201d or \u201cmorality\u201d is an end in itself, is one of the most\nsubtle and elusive we can attempt to solve; no matter which answer we\ngive we are brought into logical and psychological dilemmas from which\nit seems impossible to escape. This is also true of the problem of\nwhether our knowledge of what constitutes right and wrong comes from\nexperience or from intuition.\n\nThe broadest form of the ethical problem, which includes the two\npreceding italicized problems, is:\n\n_What is the proper criterion for determining right and wrong conduct?_\nOr even less dogmatic: Can there be a criterion for determining right\nand wrong conduct, and what is it?\n\nSomewhat allied with the ethical problem is that problem of problems:\nhow to live? By this is meant how to put the most into life and get\nthe most out of it; what vocation to follow; what hobbies, amusements,\navocations to take up; how to plan time by months, by weeks, by days,\nby hours. How much time and energy do certain activities deserve? How\nmuch can we afford to give them? Restated: what activities are of most\nworth?\n\nOf course every one does think of problems connected with the art of\nliving. But he thinks of them as little unconnected questions. Barely\nindeed does any one go about the solution of the general problem of\nliving in an orderly, systematic manner. To insist upon the broad\npractical bearings of the problem would be unnecessary, absurd. By\nits very nature it is the most \u201cpractical\u201d question we can ask. Any\nparticular solution or treatment may be impractical, but this does not\naffect the question itself.\n\n_What are the respective influences of environment (education,\nexperience, etc.) and innate tendencies in determining character?_\nWhich is the greater determinant?\n\n_Does pleasure depend upon the satisfaction of instinctive desires, or\ndo desires for certain activities depend upon the pleasure accompanying\nthe previous performance of such activities?_ Does an activity or the\npossession of an object give us pleasure because we have previously\ndesired it, or do we desire an activity or an object because we have\npreviously obtained pleasure from it? Or do pleasure and desire\ninteract, and just how? The solution of this psychological problem is\nof tremendous importance in ethics.\n\n_Does the mind depend entirely on the brain?_ That is, are all\nthoughts, emotions, feelings, due to material changes in the brain? The\nanswer we give to this problem may determine our answer to the question\nof immortality.\n\n_What knowledge is of most worth?_ I have so fully discussed the\nimportance of this question and the method of proceeding with its\nsolution that further explanation is needless.\n\nOne sphere of thought where the thinker is compelled to be original;\nwhere it is practically impossible for him to fall into beaten tracks,\nis invention. But there is useless as well as useful invention. A\nman\u2019s ambition may range all the way from inventing a machine to\nharness directly the limitless power of the sun, down to devising a\ntenacious tip for shoelaces. But he should be careful about inventing\nsomething already patented. He should be even more careful to avoid\ninventing something for which there is no demand. One of Edison\u2019s first\npatents was for a machine to register quickly the votes of legislative\nassemblies. And it worked. But the legislative assemblies didn\u2019t want\nit, because they didn\u2019t want their votes quickly registered. That\nwould have ended good old filibuster methods. Another invention of\ngreat uselessness which has been several times attempted is a machine\nto write words just like the human hand writes them. There are really\nso many useful things which do not exist and for which there is a\ndemand, that it seems quite a pity nine out of ten patents in the\nfiles at Washington are for things inutile. If the would-be inventor\ncannot himself think of something really needed, almost any big patent\nattorney house will send him an entire book of suggestions on \u201cWhat to\nInvent.\u201d\n\nInvention usually requires highly technical knowledge, not to speak of\nfacilities for experiment and a well-supplied purse. But nothing gives\nmore solid satisfaction to its creator than a successful appliance.\nWhile the conscientious philosopher is constantly harassed by doubts as\nto whether, after all, he has discovered truth; the inventor need not\nworry. His machine either works or it does not work, and he _knows_ the\ntruth of his thought thereby. On the other hand the philosopher will\nalways have _some_ thoughts. Be they true or not they may at least be\ninteresting and worth recording, whereas the inventor may toil on for\nyears and years with absolutely nothing to show for his exertion at the\nend.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\n\nThere are a number of problems that are not of great \u201cpractical\u201d\nimportance, but whose theoretic value is so transcendent as to compel\nattention. Among these are certain problems in psychology, but more\nespecially in metaphysics, philosophy and even religion, insofar as\nreligion can be said to have problems.\n\n_Is there a God and is it possible for man to learn anything of His\nnature?_ Some readers may object to the first part of this question.\nBut I state it because I am anxious to avoid dogmatism.\n\n_Is the soul immortal?_ What do we mean by the soul? Does science\ndisprove the life after death?\n\n_What is the test of truth?_ How shall we know truth when we have it?\nWhat after all is \u201ctruth\u201d?\n\n_Are our wills free, or are our actions predetermined?_ Some may object\nto this way of stating the question. Much confusion exists as to the\nmeaning of the problem. A different way of stating it would lead to\ndifferent treatment. What is the \u201cwill\u201d? What do we mean by \u201cfree\u201d?\nWhat do we mean by \u201cpredetermined\u201d?\n\n_The problem of existence._ How did the universe come into being? This\nis the last problem in which interest can be stimulated from without.\nNo matter in how many different ways he phrases it, a writer cannot\nconvey this sense of mystery to another. It must arise from within.\nMost of the time we accept, we take for granted, the universe and the\nexistent order of things, and it requires the greatest effort to keep\nalive our mystification and doubt for even short periods.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe list of questions foregoing is of course merely suggestive. It is\nimpossible to select, say twenty-five questions, and pronounce them the\ntwenty-five most important that can be asked. I fully realize there are\nquestions of greater importance than some I have propounded. But I have\nnot gone so far as to advise that every one of these should be thought\nover. The list has been given merely for thought stimulation, and to\nindicate what is meant by \u201cworth while\u201d questions.\n\nUnfortunately I have not been able to explain why most of these are so\nimportant. To have done so would have required too much time for each\nindividual problem. It would have drawn us too far out of our subject.\nThe reader must find out or sense the importance for himself.\n\nPractically all of the problems given in the list come under one of\nthe sciences, especially if we count metaphysics or philosophy as a\nscience, which it is in so far as it is organized knowledge. This may\nseem somewhat narrow. Now I admit there are important problems which\nare not included in any science. But there are very few. As soon as\ndeep thought is given to a problem its treatment becomes systematic.\nIt either falls into one of the sciences or a new science evolves\nabout it. John Stuart Mill once started a journal in which he promised\nhimself to put one thought a day, but he did not permit himself to\nrecord there any thought on a problem falling within one of the special\nsciences. None of the thoughts he put in the journal is of any great\nvalue. It came to an abrupt end in about two months.\n\nIt may be objected that though the questions selected are most\nimportant _in themselves_, there are other things more worth thinking\nabout, because of the mental discipline they yield. Now putting aside\nthe fact that questions important in themselves should be dealt with\nultimately\u2014that mental discipline would be useless unless applied to\nimportant problems\u2014I must voice my suspicion that the most useful\nquestions are also the best for training the mind. It may be true\nthat punching the bag will help a prizefighter in boxing. But other\nthings equal, a man who has spent one week in actual boxing is better\nprepared to enter the prize ring than one who has devoted a month to\nbag punching. The best practice for boxing is boxing. The best practice\nfor solving important questions is solving important questions.\n\nNor do I admit the contention is valid that one problem rather than\nanother should be thought of because it is \u201cdeeper.\u201d We cannot\ntruthfully say that psychology is a \u201cdeeper\u201d science than ethics,\nor that metaphysics is deeper than psychology, or vice versa. Most\nsubjects and most problems are just as deep as we care to make them.\nTheir depth depends entirely on how deep we go into them. This applies\nespecially to the so-called philosophical sciences. We may give them\nshallow treatment or we may give them profound treatment. But we\nshall usually find that the deepest questions are the most important\nquestions. For the most important questions have generally attracted\nthe greatest minds; consequently they have been given the deepest\ntreatment; and when a man reads the attempted solutions of these great\nminds his thoughts tend toward this deeper plane. Of course certain\nproblems, especially in mathematics, can be dealt with by only one\nmethod. In this case we may properly speak of some problems being\nobjectively deeper or at least more difficult than others.\n\nSome objections may be offered to several of the questions in my list,\non the ground that they are invalid. Such problems as the immortality\nof the soul and the problem of existence may be declared inscrutable,\nunsolvable. Such a problem as \u201cIs society for the benefit of the\nindividual or is the individual for the benefit of society?\u201d may be\nsaid to imply that society is something which has been voluntarily\nformed like the State. It may be declared that this is not the case; it\nmay be objected that this question is meaningless. All these objections\nmay be justified. But their truth cannot be determined until we\nactually attempt a solution. The determination of the validity of a\nproblem is part of the problem.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe come now to the question of what is most worth reading. The simplest\nanswer is that that is most worth reading which is most worth thinking\nabout, and therefore we should read those books which deal with such\nproblems as I have indicated. But this counsel needs to be supplemented.\n\nA conservative estimate places the number of books in the world at\n4,500,000. (This estimate was made before the war broke out, and the\nwar-books by now have doubtless brought the number to 5,000,000.) This\ndoes not mean books as collections of printed sheets of paper bound\ntogether\u2014books as physical objects\u2014for if it did the number would be\nimmensely greater. It means 4,500,000 (or more) separate and distinct\ntreatises. If you were to read one book every two weeks, you would read\nabout twenty-five a year, and if you read for fifty years you would\ncover 1,250. One book in every three thousand six hundred! (3,600!)\n\nFrom this it is apparent that even the most omnivorous reader, even\nthe reader who can cover a book swiftly by efficient skipping, will at\nleast have to ask himself before beginning a volume, \u201cIs this a book\nin a thousand? Can I afford to read this at the cost of missing nine\nhundred and ninety-nine others?\u201d And most men who ask this question\nwill have to substitute the number five thousand, or even ten thousand.\n\nNine-tenths of our reading is on mere chance recommendation, passing\nwhim or by sheer accident. We catch sight of a book on a library table.\nHaving nothing better to do we pick it up; we start perusing it. Every\nbook read in this way means a sinful waste of time. To be sure, a book\nread in this chance manner _might_ (accidentally) be very good\u2014even\nbetter than some you would have planned for; but this will happen\nseldom, and is never a justification of the practice. By going a round\nabout way to a place a man might stumble across a lost pocketbook, but\nthis would not justify taking round about ways.\n\nThe first thing needed, then, is that we should plan our reading.\nPerhaps the best way to do this would be to make out a list of the\nbooks we intend to read for the coming year, or say a list of from a\ndozen to twenty-five volumes, and then read them in the order listed.\nAnother good plan is to jot down the title of every book we intend to\nread, and keep the list about with us. Then when we meet with a book\nwhich we think would be good to read, or which we feel we simply must\nread, we can before starting it glance at our list. The formidable\narray we find there will probably induce us either to give up entirely\nour intention to read the book before us, or at least to put it\nsomewhere on the list which will allow more important books to be read\nfirst.\n\nSome people cannot endure planning their reading in this manner. It\ngrates on them to think they are tied down to any sort of program;\nit seems to deprive them of the advantages of spontaneous interest.\nWell, if you cannot plan your reading prospectively, at least plan it\nretrospectively. If you cannot keep a list of books you _intend_ to\nread, at least keep a list of books you _have_ read. Refer to this\nfrom time to time. See whether you have been reading uniformly good\nliterature. See whether you have been reading too much on one topic and\nnot enough on another, and what topics you have been long neglecting.\nBut at best this method is a poor substitute for planning your reading\nprospectively.\n\nWe should plan not only with regard to topics and subjects, but with\nregard to authors. Obviously if two men of equal ability both study\nthe same subject, one will get more out of his study than the other if\nhe reads authors who treat the subject on a deeper plane\u2014provided of\ncourse he understands them.\n\nWhether consciously or not, we tend to imitate the authors we read. If\nwe read shallow books we are forced, while reading them, to do shallow\nthinking. Our plane of thought tends toward the plane of thought of\nthe authors we study; we acquire either habits of careful critical\nthinking, or of dogmatic lack of thinking.\n\nThis emphasizes the importance of reading the best books, and _only_\nthe best books. Our plane of thinking is determined not alone by the\ngood books we read, but by all the books we read; it tends toward\nthe _average_. Most men imagine that when they read a good book they\nget a certain amount of good out of it, and that this good will stay\nwith them undiminished. Provided they read a certain number of serious\nbooks, they see no reason why they should not read any number of\nsuperficial or useless books, or any amount of ephemeral magazine or\nnewspaper literature. They expect the serious reading to benefit them.\nThey do not expect the shallow reading to harm them. This is just as if\nthey were to buy and eat unnutritious and indigestible food, and excuse\nthemselves on the ground that they ate nourishing and digestible food\nalong with it.\n\nThe analogy may be carried further. As it is the average of the\nphysical food you digest which ultimately determines the constitution\nof your body, so it is the average of the mental food you absorb which\ndetermines the constitution of your mind. One good meal will not offset\na week of bad ones; one good book will never offset any number of poor\nbooks. Further, as no one has a perfect memory, you do not retain all\nyou read any more than you retain all you eat. Therefore if you do\nnot want your mind to retrogress, you should not rest satisfied with\nbooks already read, but should continue to read books at least as good\nas any previous. As at any given time your bodily health\u2014so far as it\ndepends on food\u2014is mainly determined by the meals of the last few days\nor weeks, so is your mental health dependent on the last few books you\nhave read.\n\nOne of the first things we should look to in selecting books is their\ncomprehensiveness. To quote Arnold Bennett: \u201cUnless and until a man has\nformed a scheme of knowledge, be it but a mere skeleton, his reading\nmust necessarily be unphilosophical. He must have attained to some\nnotion of the interrelations of the various branches of knowledge\nbefore he can properly comprehend the branch of knowledge in which\nhe specializes.\u201d[23] As an aid in forming this scheme of knowledge,\nMr. Bennett suggests Herbert Spencer\u2019s _First Principles_. I heartily\nendorse his choice. I would add to it the essay on _The Classification\nof the Sciences_ by the same author.\n\nThese works are classics, and one of the most regrettable of\ndifficulties is that of getting people to read the classics. Mention\nto a man Darwin\u2019s _Origin of Species_ or _Descent of Man_, and he\nwill reply, \u201cOh, yes, that\u2019s the theory that says men descended from\nmonkeys.\u201d Satisfied that he knows all there is to know about it, he\nnever reads any of Darwin\u2019s works. Now passing over the fact that\nthe theory does not assert that man descended from monkeys and never\nintended to assert it;\u2014what a compliment to Darwin\u2019s thought and\nbrevity to assume that all his books can be summed up in a phrase!\nBut Darwin is not the only sufferer. If we come across the title of a\nclassic often enough, and hear a lot of talk \u201cabout it and about\u201d and\na few quotations from it, we gradually come to believe we know all\nthe contents worth knowing. This is why Shakespeare, and in fact most\nof the classics, are so seldom actually read, and why we go for our\nserious reading to a book on \u201cHow to Read Character from Handwriting\u201d\nor to a sensational volume on prostitution by one of our modern\n\u201csociologists.\u201d The only way we can keep ourselves from such stuff is\nto lay out some definite end, some big objective, to be attained; and\nbefore reading a book we should ask how that helps us to attain it.\n\nI have not given a formal list of books worth reading, nor do I intend\nto; one of the reasons being that the work has been done so well by\nothers. Ever since Sir John Lubbock published his list of one hundred\nbest books, the number of selections has been legion. Charles Eliot\u2019s\nselection for his _Five Foot Shelf_ is to be commended, and a little\nvolume by Frank Parsons _The World\u2019s Best Books_. Of course our purpose\nis special:\u2014to find the best books for making thinkers; but the remarks\nalready made should aid the reader sufficiently in making his own\nselection from these lists. As previously pointed out, if the reader\nis studying a specialty he can usually find a fairly well selected\nbibliography at the end of the article on that specialty in any\nstandard encyclopedia.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe reader probably sees clearly by now that it is impossible to do\nhis own thinking in every case; that if he is to have sound knowledge\non important questions he must have the courage to be ignorant of\nmany things. How much trouble to go to in any particular case it is\ndifficult to say.\n\nWe can lay it down as a general principle that questions of the\nhighest importance, such as those of which I have given a suggestive\nlist\u2014questions which deal with facts known or easily ascertainable,\nand which depend for their right solution more on thinking than on\nanything else\u2014a man should solve for himself, and should take the\ngreatest caution in so doing. On the other hand, questions of the\nhighest importance which depend for their solution mainly on full and\ndetailed knowledge of highly technical facts which lie outside of one\u2019s\nspecialty, should be dealt with by consulting authorities and taking\ntheir word for it.\n\nThere still remains the great mass of questions which are relatively\nunimportant, but continually coming up in our daily life, the answers\nto which greatly influence our conduct. Time forbids us not only\nfrom thinking these out for ourselves, but even from consulting an\nauthority\u2014for the selection of an authority often involves almost as\nmuch intellectual responsibility as self-thinking. The only thing we\ncan do is to accept the verdict of popular opinion.\n\nCustom, convention and popular belief, no matter how many times they\nhave been overthrown, have fairly reliable foundations. Popular ideas,\nto be sure, are products of mere unorganized experience. They are\nempirical; seldom if ever scientific. But though they are founded on\nexperience which is _unorganized_, they are founded on so much of it\nthat they are worthy of respect. Society could not long exist if it\npersisted in acting on beliefs altogether wrong, though it is safe to\nsay that popular ideas are never more than approximately right. But\nunless and until you have either thoroughly thought over a question for\nyourself or have consulted an acknowledged and trustworthy authority,\nit is best tentatively to accept and act on common belief. To think\nand act differently, merely for the sake of being different, is\nunprofitable and dangerous, all questions of ethics aside.\n\n\n\n\nX\n\nTHINKING AS AN ART\n\n\n I discovered, though unconsciously and insensibly, that the pleasure\n of observing and reasoning was a much higher one than that of skill\n and sport.\u2014DARWIN\u2019S _Autobiography_.\n\nTo know is one thing; to do another. To know the science of thinking\nis not to possess the art of thinking. Yet I doubt not that there are\nreaders who having finished, would deem it sufficient that they had\nthe knowledge, and would feel they had gotten all the good or harm out\nof this book that there is in it. They would put it aside. They would\nthink no more of it.\n\nThe trouble with these good people (unfortunately I speak of the\noverwhelming majority) is that they expect information to apply itself.\nThey expect that once they have learnt a thing they will act according\nto their knowledge. This is the very last thing a normal human being\ndoes.\n\nThe only way we can ever get ourselves to apply knowledge is to do so\nby what will at first be a conscious effort. We shall have to devote\nmuch attention to it. Old established custom will have to be broken.\nWe do not act according to knowledge; we act according to habit. Even\nafter we have decided, for instance, that we ought to give a little\nindependent thinking to a subject before reading about it, we shall\nvery likely continue to read books without previous thought.\n\nSome people may imagine that the reason we do not practice what we\nlearn is that we do not remember what we learn. They are mistaken. When\nlearning German, I had much difficulty in knowing what prepositions\nrequired the genitive, dative or accusative cases. I finally learnt all\nof them alphabetically in their respective groups, and could rattle\nthem off at a rate which would make most native Germans blush for envy.\nThe only trouble was that when I came to an actual sentence requiring\none of these prepositions I continually forgot to apply my knowledge.\nSome one would have to point an error out to me before it would occur\nto me to do so. Even then I would have to think long before the proper\ncase occurred.\n\nBut while it is not true that we fail to practice a thing merely\nbecause we fail to remember it, it is true that if we do not practice\nwe are not very likely to remember it. The only way we could remember\nwould be by constant re-reading, for knowledge unused tends to drop out\nof mind. Knowledge used does not need to be remembered; practice forms\nhabits and habits make memory unnecessary. The rule is nothing; the\napplication is everything.\n\nPractice being the thing needful, it is essential that we put aside a\ncertain amount of time for it. Unless you lay out a definite program,\nunless you put aside, say, one-half hour every day, for pure downright\nindependent thinking, you will probably neglect to practice at all.\nOne-half hour out of every twenty-four seems little enough. You may\nthink you can fit it in with no trouble. But no matter how shamelessly\nyou have been putting in your time, you have been doing _something_\nwith it. In order to get in your thirty minutes of thinking, you will\nhave to put aside something which has been habitually taking up a half\nhour of your day. You cannot expect simply to add thinking to your\nother activities. Some other activity must be cut down or cut out.[24]\n\nYou may think me quite lenient in advising only one-half hour a day.\nYou may even go so far as to say that one-half hour a day is not\nenough. Perhaps it isn\u2019t. But I am particularly anxious to have some\nof the advice in this book followed. And I greatly fear that if I\nadvised more than a half hour most readers would serenely neglect my\nadvice altogether. After you have been able for a month to devote at\nleast one-half hour a day to thinking, you may then, if you choose,\nextend the time. But if you attempt to do too much at once, you may\nfind it so inconvenient, if not impracticable, that you may give up\nattempting altogether. Throughout the book I have constantly kept in\nmind that I wish my advice followed. I have therefore laid down rules\nwhich may reasonably be adhered to by an average human, rules which\ndo not require a hardened asceticism to apply, and rules which have\noccasionally been followed by the author himself. In this last respect,\nI flatter myself, the present differs from most books of advice.\n\nAbove all I urge the reader to avoid falling into that habit so\nprevalent and at the same time so detrimental to character:\u2014acquiescing\nin advice and not following it. You should view critically every\nsentence in this book. Wherever you find any advice which you think\nneedless, or which requires unnecessary sacrifice to put into practice,\nor is wrong, you should so mark it. And you should think out for\nyourself what would be the best practice to follow. But when you agree\nwith any advice you see here, you should make it your business to\nfollow it. The fact that part of the advice may be wrong is no reason\nwhy you should not follow the part that is right.\n\nMost people honestly intend to follow advice, and actually start to\ndo it, but .\u00a0.\u00a0. They try to practice everything at once. As a result\nthey end by practicing nothing. The secret of practice is to learn\nthoroughly one thing at a time. As already stated, we act according\nto habit. The only way to break an old habit or to form a new one\nis to give our whole attention to the process. The new action will\nsoon require less and less attention, until finally we shall do it\nautomatically, without thought\u2014in short, we shall have formed another\nhabit. This accomplished we can turn to still others.\n\nAs an example let us take the different methods of looking at questions\nconsidered in the second chapter. Most readers will glance over these\nmethods, and agree that they are very helpful\u2014and the next problem\nwhich perplexes them will probably be solved by no method at all, or\nwill be looked at from one standpoint only.\n\nAbout the best, perhaps the only way by which the reader could get\nhimself to use habitually every valuable method possible, would be to\ntake one of the methods, say the evolutionary, and consciously apply\nit, or attempt to apply it, to a whole list of problems. In this way\nhe could learn the possibilities and limits of that particular method.\nAgain, he could take an individual problem and consciously attempt to\napply every possible method to its solution. He could continue such\npractice until he had so formed the habit of using method that it\nwould be employed almost unconsciously. Concentration, method in book\nreading, and all the other practices here advocated should be learned\nin the same conscious, painstaking way, one thing at a time, until\nthoroughly ingrained. It must be left to the reader\u2019s own ingenuity to\ndevise the best methods of acquiring each particular habit.\n\nOf course it is possible to do a thing well\u2014it is possible to follow\nthe rule for doing it\u2014without knowing the rule. If a man take a live\ninterest in a subject he will naturally tend to look at it from a\nnumber of different viewpoints. If he be eternally on the lookout for\nerrors and fallacies in his own thinking he will gradually evolve a\nlogic of his own. And this logic will be concrete, not abstract; it\nwill be something built into, an integral part of, concrete thought,\nand he will be constantly strengthening the habit of using it. Compared\nwith the logic of the books it may be crude, but it will not consist of\nmere rules, which can be recited but which are seldom applied.\n\nSo with grammar. Instance the writer\u2019s experience with German. Few\nnative Germans could recite offhand what prepositions govern the\ngenitive, dative and accusative, even if they knew what was meant by\nthese terms. But they would (most of them) use these cases correctly,\nand without the least thought. The educated Englishman or American\nflatters himself that his correct speech is due to his study of\ngrammar. This is far from true. His speech is due to unconscious\nimitation of the language of the people with whom he comes into\ncontact, and of the books he reads. And needless to say, the cultivated\nman comes into contact with other cultivated men and with good\nliterature; the ignoramus does not.\n\nMost of our thinking is influenced in this way. The great thinkers\nof the past improved their innate powers not by the study of rules\nfor thinking, but by reading the works of other great thinkers, and\nunconsciously imitating their habitual method and caution.\n\nThe fact to remember is that a rule is something that has been\nformulated after the thing which it rules. It is merely an abstract of\ncurrent practice or of good practice. Rules are needful because they\nteach in little time what would otherwise require much experience to\nlearn, or which we might never discover for ourselves at all. They help\nus to learn things right in the beginning; they prevent us from falling\ninto wrong habits. The trouble with unsupplemented imitation, conscious\nor unconscious, is that we tend to imitate another\u2019s faults along with\nhis virtues. Rules enable us to distinguish, especially if we have\nlearned the reason for the rules.\n\nBut practice and rules should not be compared as if they were opposed.\nThe true road is plenty of practice with conscientious regard to rule.\nIt may be insisted that this has its limits; that there is a point\nbeyond which a man cannot improve himself. I admit that practice has\nits limits. It may be true that there is a point beyond which a man\ncannot advance. But nobody knows those limits and no one can say when\nthat point has come.\n\nNo two individuals profit in the same degree by the same practice.\nWith a given amount one man will always improve faster than another.\nBut the slower man may keep up with his more speedy brother by more\npractice. I shall not repeat here the fable of the hare and the\ntortoise. But any one who has discovered a flaw in his mental make-up,\nany one who believes that he cannot concentrate, or that his memory is\npoor, and that therefore he can never become a thinker, should find\nconsolation in the words of William James:\n\n\u201cDepend upon it, no one need be too much cast down by the discovery of\nhis deficiency in any elementary faculty of the mind. .\u00a0.\u00a0. The total\nmental efficiency of a man is the resultant of all his faculties. He\nis too complex a being for any one of them to have the casting vote.\nIf any one of them do have the casting vote, it is more likely to be\nthe strength of his desire and passion, the strength of the interest\nhe takes in what is proposed. Concentration, memory, reasoning power,\ninventiveness, excellence of the senses\u2014all are subsidiary to this.\nNo matter how scatter-brained the type of a man\u2019s successive fields\nof consciousness may be, if he really _care_ for a subject, he will\nreturn to it incessantly from his incessant wanderings, and first and\nlast do more with it, and get more results from it, than another person\nwhose attention may be more continuous during a given interval, but\nwhose passion for the subject is of a more languid and less permanent\nsort.\u201d[25]\n\n\n\n\nXI\n\nBOOKS ON THINKING\n\n\nThe reader who desires to study further on the subject of thinking will\nfind a wide field before him\u2014but he will have to search in cosmopolitan\nquarters. While much has been written on thinking, it has been in an\nincidental manner, and has found its way into books written mainly\nto illuminate other subjects. Among the few books or essays devoted\nexclusively or mainly to thinking may be mentioned:\u2014John Locke, _The\nConduct of the Understanding_; Isaac Watts, _The Improvement of the\nMind_; Arnold Bennett, _Mental Efficiency_; T. Sharper Knowlson, _The\nArt of Thinking_; Arthur Schopenhauer, _On Thinking for Oneself_, in\nhis _Essays_. The last is especially recommended. It is only about a\ndozen pages long, and is the most stimulating essay written on the\nsubject. This, together with John Locke\u2019s _Conduct_ (which, by the way,\nis also fairly short) may be considered the two \u201cclassics\u201d in the\nmeager literature on thinking.\n\nThere is an extensive literature on the psychology of reasoning, on the\n\u201cpositive\u201d science of thinking. The best single work on this subject is\nJohn Dewey\u2019s _How We Think_. William James\u2019 chapter on _Reasoning_ in\nhis _Principles of Psychology_ might also be consulted with profit. S.\nS. Colvin\u2019s, _The Learning Process_ contains some interesting chapters\nbearing on thought.\n\nOn method, the amount of literature is even more imposing than that\non the psychology of reasoning. Probably the most thorough book is\nStanley Jevon\u2019s _The Principles of Science_, though this, consisting\nof two volumes, will require quite some ambition to attack. A good\nrecent short work is J. A. Thomson, _Introduction to Science_.\nHerbert Spencer\u2019s short essay, _An Element in Method_, in his\n_Various Fragments_ might also be mentioned. Of those works treating\nmethod mainly from a corrective standpoint, I have already mentioned\nJevon\u2019s _Elementary Lessons in Logic_. _The_ authoritative and most\ncomprehensive book on logic is still John Stuart Mill\u2019s great tome. Of\ncourse this list of books on method, as well as that on the psychology\nof reasoning, cannot pretend to be more than merely suggestive. If the\nreader desires an extensive bibliography in either of these subjects he\nwill probably find it in one of the books mentioned.\n\nOn doubt and belief, William Clifford, _The Ethics of Belief_, and\nWilliam James, _The Will to Believe_, might be read. The viewpoints of\nthe two essays are in almost direct contradiction.\n\nOn reading, Alexander Bain\u2019s _The Art of Study_, in his _Practical\nEssays_, will be found useful. Bacon\u2019s essay _On Studies_, which is not\nmore than a couple pages long, contains more concentrated wisdom on the\nsubject than is to be found anywhere.\n\nOn subjects most worth thinking about, the reader cannot do better than\nread Herbert Spencer\u2019s essay _What Knowledge is of Most Worth?_ in his\n_Education_. As to books most worth reading, consult the lists of John\nMorley, Sir John Lubbock, and Frederic Harrison; Sonnenschein\u2019s _Best\nBooks_ (in two volumes); Baldwin\u2019s _The Book Lover_; Dr. Eliot\u2019s _Five\nFoot Shelf_ and Frank Parson\u2019s _The World\u2019s Best Books_, previously\nreferred to.\n\nOn the art of living\u2014the art of planning time so as to have room for\nthinking, as well as valuable hints as to how that thinking is to be\ncarried out\u2014consult Arnold Bennett, _How to Live on Twenty-four Hours a\nDay_, and E. H. Griggs, _The Use of the Margin_ (both very, very small\nbooks).\n\nFinally, there is much useful material, as well as incalculable\ninspiration, to be obtained from the intellectual and literary\nbiographies of great thinkers. Especially is this true of\nautobiography. Among others may be mentioned the autobiographies of\nJohn Stuart Mill and Herbert Spencer, and an autobiographical fragment\nby Charles Darwin.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[\u20071] See Herbert Spencer, _Education_.\n\n[\u20072] Pillsbury, _Essentials of Psychology_.\n\n[\u20073] _Principles of Psychology_, Vol. II, p. 332.\n\n[\u20074] See William A. Scott, _Money_.\n\n[\u20075] _How We Think._\n\n[\u20076] _Autobiography_, Vol. I, p. 463.\n\n[\u20077] _Autobiography._\n\n[\u20078] Hugh Elliot, _The Letters of John Stuart Mill_.\n\n[\u20079] Essay, _Over-Legislation_.\n\n[10] _The Conduct of the Understanding._\n\n[11] _The Will to Believe._\n\n[12] _Autobiography._\n\n[13] _Science and Education._\n\n[14] T. Sharper Knowlson, _The Art of Thinking_.\n\n[15] _The Conduct of the Understanding._\n\n[16] _On Thinking for Oneself._\n\n[17] This may seem unjustified. Witness, however, this remarkable\nstatement in a prospectus of Charles Eliot\u2019s \u201cFive Foot Shelf\u201d: \u201c\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\nThe man who has not read the \u2018Wealth of Nations\u2019 is hardly qualified to\nspeak or even think wisely on these vital subjects.\u201d If this be true,\nAdam Smith himself was hardly qualified because he certainly could not\nhave read his own book before he had written it!\n\n[18] Essay _On Thinking for Oneself_.\n\n[19] _Autobiography._\n\n[20] Edward Griggs, _The Use of the Margin_.\n\n[21] _Literary Taste._\n\n[22] The most advanced and severe psychologists may object to some\nstatements in this exposition. I admit that a word may be used as\nthe concept, _but only provided it is accompanied by a \u201cfringe\u201d of\npotential associates_. I also admit that in order to be dealt with as\nif general, the visual image must be accompanied by such a \u201cfringe.\u201d\nBut I do insist that this fringe itself is in a constant state of flux.\nThat is the important point for our present purposes.\n\n[23] _Literary Taste._\n\n[24] And consult Arnold Bennett\u2019s _How to Live on 24 Hours a Day_.\n\n[25] _Talks to Teachers._\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE:\n\nOriginal spelling and grammar have been generally retained. Original\nsmall caps are now uppercase. Italics look _like this_. Footnotes have\nbeen relabeled 1\u201325 and moved to the end of the book. The transcriber\nproduced the cover image and hereby assigns it to the public domain.\nOriginal page images are available from archive.org\u2014search for\n\u201ccu31924031014867\u201d.","title":"Thinking as a Science","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":47329}