How to Learn Easily/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III
EDUCATIVE IMAGINATION
In the previous chapter we ran over some of the practical considerations of observation and of taking notes, both on the tablets of our memories (observation) and on tablets of paper,—note-books. How, practically, we can further the use of these notes, both cerebral and manuscript, in the learning-process, is our next inquiry. This process in practice may be analyzed and understood, and thus improved materially, in any given mind.
Imagination, as we shall discuss it, may not be easily defined except by suggesting what it is not: It is not falsehood and untruth, but a most essential form of mental truth; and educationally it is of great practical use and importance. We may wonder how imagination, as we think of it, can be important in learning at all. The reason for this doubt is that a wrong meaning of the term "imagination" has crept into general untechnical use, namely, that it is delusion, a false idea, an error of thinking, the seeing of something that is not there; false perception—in other words, error and falsehood rather than something which is true and real and in every educational way important. Imagination, on the other hand, is one of the most productive mental processes in the whole educative procedure. It is "the representative power" of the mind, but this, as we shall see, involves much, since in a broad sense it includes many of the active constructive operations of the mental life. Dean J. R. Angell, the eminent psychologist of the University of Chicago, emphasizes the two leading features of imagination when he writes that it "is to be viewed not only as the process whereby the ordinary practical affairs of life are guided, in so far as they require foresight, but also the medium through which most of the world's finer types of happiness are brought to pass." Surely a thing which at once guides our lives and gives us happiness is of much account; and in the learning-procedure it is not of less account than elsewhere. Imagination may be denoted as the use of the mind backwards or forwards, turning the mind into the past or into the future but not directly into the present. Although one of the most conspicuous aspects of the nature of imagination, this is only one.
Memory is a form of imagination called reproductive imagination. Foresight, in a broad sense, is another form called the constructive imagination, which, however, we shall discuss in a way to include a much more active process than this. Influence of the mind on the body is called organic imagination. Each form has notable practical concern in learning. Our present search is as to how this fact is so and as to the practical means of developing imagination, if not already ample and rich, in ourselves, and in our pupils or students.
Let us, then, take up these three kinds of educative imagination, one after the other, and see what we can suggest about them in the way of practical use in easy learning.
Reproductive imagination is memory or recall. There is evidence that the nervous system retains every clear impression made on it, but how long we do not as yet know. A great many cases have occurred from time to time which demonstrate that in some way this is the case. There are three general types of retention-memory that have more or less to do with the reproductive imagination. Some of these "memories" are hereditary and inborn, and are represented in the spinal cord—the reflexes. The sneeze, the cough-reflex, and the like, are more or less unintentionally performed and controlled. Then there are some memories which are controlled further up in the brain, the instincts and emotions, having social as well as personal reference. It is important for educative purposes that the latter memories involve the previous kind as well. The third type of the reproductive imagination is located in the upper extremity of the nervous system—in the cortex of the brain. These are the latest additions in the evolution of the brain, memories proper, and only a few of them are conscious at any one time. These last, like the preceding, should completely involve the other two.
The fundamental principle of habit is what determines the usefulness of these forms of memory for easy learning. Their respective power of recall depends on their relative influence on the more conscious parts of the brain. There is, then, one general learning-principle—that all these three kinds of memory should be given habitual yet conscious reference, as conscious as is voluntarily possible. Reduced from physiological to practical terms, this means that we come again to the skill which we discussed in the last chapter—conscious acquaintance with and mastery of all parts of the body that may properly come (without interference with function) under voluntary control. This is one of the physiologic bases of rapid and permanent acquirement. By this means every learning pathway is open for use in the acquirement of knowledge. Here physical training gets its highest sanction and usefulness, as the writer has set forth elsewhere at length.
The power of recall of what once has been remembered is one of the essential things for learning. The perfection of the memory-record is beyond control, but this power of recall may be greatly developed. We must remember continually that the brain acts more or less on the symbolic system, using a method of shorthand symbols, which are in some way impressed in the brain processes; these are essentially neural or neuro-muscular integrations. Hence the need of reviewing: in order that these associations or integration-complexes may be connected more intimately together, and as a complex with the rest of the mind. Recall is thus made easier and more useful, for facts and their relations are sorted out and oftentimes labeled with a name, as with all "general ideas." By this means and perhaps only thus they are made available for use at will.
Another practical point for the use of the reproductive imagination is that it should be impressed with a feeling-tone of some sort. It is the emotional tone of nearly everything of a mental nature which gives it its "push" and determines its useful activity. The exact kind of feeling for this purpose is not so important as is the bare fact that the memory always should be associated with some sort of feeling-tone. Feeling and not the idea is the mind's great energizer. Therefore, in general, we remember best our pleasant (or very unpleasant) experiences. At the first glance over our memories, that does not, perhaps, appear obvious but in the long run it is distinctly true. It has recently been shown by actual experiment that young school-girls, at least, remember best their pleasant experiences. In other words, other things being equal, we should study chiefly and should remember those subjects which are pleasing to us. This is one of the reasons for the privilege of selecting subjects of study in school,—the "sanction" of the elective-system.
When the reproductive imagination (memory) seems wholly perfect to the individual, the experience is called an hallucination. Thus when we have an hallucination we perceive something which is not really there at all. This happens only under conditions of mental overstrain or of derangement of some sort. So far as the perfection of recall is concerned, it is quite impossible for a really perfect reproduction of the original impression to occur. The moral of this discussion of the imperfection of the imagination is that the memory is never exact. Recall is never normally exact, and the student must act on this principle in all ways.
Nevertheless the reproductive imagination is often of very great service in learning, both in the recall of words seen and heard continually, and the like, and in picturing to ourselves for use the conditions of hidden or absent structures. We have already noted how indispensable the visual imagination, in both its reproductive and its constructive aspects, is in anatomy, physiology, geometry, physics, and so on. The same is almost equally true in many other sciences—in fact in most branches of learning. The difference, for example, in the liking for or dislike of geometry by students sometimes depends largely on their relative power of visualizing the spatial problems involved. Therefore, we should develop to its limit this power of seeing things in the mind's eye—and of hearing them, and feeling them and smelling them and tasting them. Thus the material world is, for educative purposes, extended in far wider mental relationships than otherwise.
The second form of imagination which we shall discuss is constructive imagination. For educational purposes, this is by far the most important of the three. The reason that recall of our memory is never exact is that the mind is an active process, always doing something. The neurons are alive with energy and always develop their mental contents when not in some way prevented. Thus speaking educationally, all imagination is more or less constructive. You have heard it said that we learn to swim out-of-water in the winter-time, or to play tennis; we sometimes learn to love a person better during his absence, which proverbially "maketh the heart grow fonder." These are all processes of constructive imagination; and in the last case, when we get back to the beloved person we sometimes realize the constructive difference. All this, of course, is an important subconscious process: but in the human mind at least, imagination has more power than this relatively passive process of subconscious elaboration.
A research[1] made by the writer gives a concrete illustration of the active, image-making "association" in the minds of people:—
A STUDY OF IMAGINATIONS
To "see things" in the ever-changing outlines of summer clouds or among the flames and embers of a fire, has doubtless in all ages been to imaginative men a source of entertainment and delight. Much of the charm of this pastime comes no doubt from the commonly accompanying circumstance of leisure, and from the novelty of exercising an aspect of mind all too little used and given freedom. Another element in the interest of the habit, however, comes from the endless variation in the forms which different persons fancy from any given contour or in any simple presented shape. For the purposes of studying the reproductive imaginations of men and women, the psychologist might well desire to take the clouds into his control and bid them serve him; but they are far beyond him and will not for a moment stay.
To reproduce, then, under applicable and controllable conditions these familiar studies of human fancy, the following simple means have been adopted, and they constitute the complete apparatus, simple enough, of the investigation. Chance blots of ink, made by pressing gently with the finger a drop of common writing fluid between two squares of paper, furnished all the variety of outline imaginable. (More explicit suggestions for the manufacture and usefulness of these characters introduced as psychological material by the author, may be found in the Psychological Review for May, 1897, page 390.) The bits of gummed paper 3 c.m. square bearing the blots, scarce any one of which resembled any other, were then attached to cards convenient for the hand and arranged in twelve sets of ten blots each, the members of each set being numbered consecutively from one to ten with Arabic and the sets themselves in Roman numerals. Thus the back of every blot-card bore a number by which it could be registered and identified. The uncommonly great interest of the subjects in the research was largely due to the great variety in the configuration of these blots, and to secure the constant attentive effort of the subject is often no easy matter, although sometimes this means half the research done.
The subjects were mostly students in the Harvard psychological laboratory, although professors and their wives and one Latin-school girl were among the rest. The range of ages was between eighteen and sixty-two and the average nearly thirty-five. The subjects were employed as was convenient, no selection of any sort being made, and hence they may be said, as far as any relation to imagination is concerned, to have been an average set from their particular social grade of culture and education. In the case of every subject some brief sketch of his or her early life was obtained as regards familiarity with various animal forms, and concerning fairy stories, mythology, and the like, and as regards possible habit of watching clouds and other natural forms as a pleasure of the imagination. It was expected that subjects raised on a farm, hunters, and artists would have a store of advantage over those of contrary habits. Among the subjects were two poets and two artists, and all of these were well toward the top in readiness and variety of response. One of these two poets made the shortest average of times, and the subject who had the longest average is a young man little fond of verse.
The experiments were conducted with the subjects always in normal condition as far as could be learned, and at an average hour of the day as regards fatigue and meals. Each was particularly instructed "to look at the blot-card always right-side up, turning neither the card nor the head; to try to employ the whole character if possible, not allowing it to separate into parts while being observed; not to be too particular to get a perfectly fitting object in mind, but to tap at the moment of the consciousness of the first suggested image; to react by a sharp tap as promptly as possible; to report each concrete object suggested as concisely as possible, with any suggested general action of the same, and, especially, only such details as occurred before reaction by the tap." The method of the experiments was, then, simply thus: A set of blot-cards being arranged in order face down and a stop-watch in hand, after a warning, Ready! one second previous, a blot was quickly placed before the subject at his or her proper visual distance. Upon the discovery of the blot's likeness to any object, the subject tapped and, the time being registered, a brief description of the suggested object was recorded opposite the number of the character; and so on through the entire series of 120, or, more commonly, until decrease of interest or evident slowing of reaction indicated the beginning of fatigue (which was carefully inquired after and noted), when the experiment was promptly suspended for the time. None of the subjects had seen the blots before the time of the experiment.
As would be supposed after observing the different characters as represented in the illustration, most of the replies to the general question, What is it? were various in the extreme. This variation is least in set number one, as the blots of that file were selected and placed together as the first set, that their relative easiness might compensate for the novelty of the experience and slowness of reaction in unprofessional subjects.
The figures in the accompanying table indicate in seconds averages of the times for the ten blots composing each set. In these results the interesting cases of apparent inhibition are included, it being practically impossible to discriminate such cases of exception from slow examples of associative imagination, and no cases of inhibition being long or frequent enough to essentially vitiate the average of any subject. These periods of inhibition have an interest in themselves, for although much like ordinary cases of amnesic aphasia, they differ from them in that here the blocking seems to be among the
| Subject | Appbox. Age. | Average Times, in Seconds. | Av. | |||||||||||
| I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | |||
| A. | 23 | 5.4 | 4.6 | 4.3 | 9.0 | 4.3 | 7.6 | 6.8 | 8.2 | 6.8 | 14.8 | 8.5 | 7.8 | 7.3 |
| B. | 28 | 5.3 | 13.4 | 16.1 | 4.7 | 13.7 | 16.2 | 6.3 | 23.6 | 5.3 | 31.2 | 8.0 | 11.3 | 12.8 |
| C. | 21 | 6.3 | 15.0 | 14.2 | 8.4 | 14.1 | 27.5 | 15.5 | 12.5 | 12.4 | 8.4 | 8.1 | 8.6 | 12.6 |
| D. | 24 | 3.2 | 12.5 | 25.1 | 10.7 | 13.1 | 27.8 | 30.0 | 23.0 | 15.4 | 4.0 | 3.5 | 7.9 | 14.7 |
| E. | 22 | 5.3 | 4.0 | 9.6 | 9.5 | 10.2 | 12.4 | 19.5 | 9.6 | 7.3 | 12.0 | 11.8 | 8.9 | 10.0 |
| F. | 30 | 18.7 | 13.1 | 8.8 | 4.6 | 8.0 | 9.5 | 8.6 | 7.1 | 4.5 | 8.3 | 10.2 | 6.1 | 8.9 |
| G. | 27 | 6.3 | 23.3 | 9.8 | 6.2 | 18.6 | 9.4 | 10.2 | 31.7 | 11.5 | 19.4 | 11.9 | 17.6 | 14.6 |
| H. | 60 | 16.4 | 9.0 | 22.4 | 11.5 | 16.4 | 6.2 | 7.3 | 10.6 | 14.9 | 16.6 | 32.6 | 21.6 | 15.5 |
| I. | 30 | 25.3 | 30.3 | 25.3 | 17.6 | 5.4 | 11.8 | 21.8 | 14.0 | 37.1 | 13.8 | 19.6 | 14.0 | 20.0 |
| J. | 18 | 12.1 | 10.4 | 13.7 | 13.3 | 9.7 | 21.9 | 27.4 | 16.2 | 14.1 | 15.1 | 14.1 | 11.7 | 15.0 |
| K. | 29 | 2.3 | 6.7 | 6.1 | 4.0 | 6.3 | 8.9 | 8.8 | 10.7 | 7.5 | 13.8 | 14.6 | 14.7 | 8.7 |
| L. | 29 | 3.8 | 1.3 | 4.8 | 2.9 | 2.2 | 3.8 | 4.9 | 2.2 | 3.3 | 5.0 | 1.8 | 3.4 | 3.3 |
| M. | 62 | 1.9 | 3.2 | 8.2 | 2.5 | 2.4 | 2.5 | 2.4 | 1.8 | 2.1 | 1.9 | 1.4 | 1.6 | 2.7 |
| N. | 61 | 2.5 | 6.6 | 15.7 | 5.2 | 4.7 | 9.2 | 2.0 | 4.9 | 6.4 | 10.4 | 5.9 | 4.6 | 6.5 |
| O. | 39 | 6.5 | 4.7 | 2.1 | 3.0 | 5.9 | 3.3 | 5.3 | 5.9 | 6.7 | 7.0 | 3.3 | 8.2 | 5.2 |
| P. | 34 | 5.7 | 7.5 | 11.6 | 3.5 | 3.3 | 7.0 | 14.6 | 7.5 | 6.5 | 7.1 | 4.1 | 6.2 | 7.5 |
| Grand Average, 10.3 | ||||||||||||||
The often considerable number of vacant seconds which elapsed between the application of the stimulus and the reaction image, offers a striking illustration of the entire sub-consciousness of the processes of reproductive imagination, but including in these cases much more. Here was presented a blot of ink, perceived by the subject; the next thing in his consciousness was a name of some object resembling in some respect or many the stimulus, so that a complicated process necessarily intervened. Many ancient pigeon-holes of the brain must have been searched, and a comparison made with the contents of each, followed by a judgment of greater agreement in some one case, a choice thereof, and the calling-up and utterance of a name, which again became consciousness. And this often in a fraction of a second. Such, we may conjecture, is the general process, although the many attempts at introspection gave wholly negative results. Frequent inquiry was made as to how, in what form, the suggested object came into consciousness, and the most frequent reply was that a name, articulate, visual, or auditory, was the first of the object experienced. Sometimes, then, it was once or twice said, the connotations of the object developed. In some cases aphasia occurred and a hazy likeness of the object coming hovered for a few seconds or less before the mind. Here is a problem for research.
Instruments of precision for measuring small periods of time were not needed in these experiments, but intervals of not over half a second appeared in several instances, such reactions being as fast as regular time-reactions with judgment or choice, and much more characteristic of the reacting subject than of the blots on which the reaction occurred. The longest time required, three minutes very nearly, was by the subject with next to the longest general time average also; the two next longest were by two students of decidedly "intellectual type." Neither age nor sex shows a distinct influence in these quantitative results; habits of living, on the other hand, are clearly recorded in the figures as confirmed by knowledge of the various subjects' mental modes and occupations. The intellectual type appears in the numbers with like corroborative evidence. From the grand average of all the subjects' times, about ten seconds, it is apparent that the reactions were slower than one might a priori estimate from a study of the blots. Facility developed noticeably in some cases. It is curious to observe that an equal number of subjects were above and below the quantitative average; also that the slowest and fastest were nearly an equal number of seconds from the mean time, which thus doubly appears to be a true average time of these 1920 reactions. As a comparative mental test, this mode of experiment would seem to be valuable, representing accurately the mental functions upon which wit and mental liveliness depend.
The qualitative portion of this research has more of interest than the quantitative, howbeit its results are not statable in exact terms nor expressible in figures. The qualitative side better, however, suggests the mysteries of association and of the imagination, deep in the nervous substance, which future psychologists may explain. Each subject, it will be remembered, was instructed to report the first object which the blot suggested to him in each of the 120 cases. A comparison of these object-images gives, therefore, curious and interesting results, and leads into mazes of scientific conjecture.
In the case of no blot did over 40 per cent of the subjects agree on any one suggested object. In several instances no two of the subjects were reminded of the same thing. These two extreme blots are reproduced in Figure 1, the right blot,
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| XII, 7. | X, 10. |
| Figure 1. | |
numbered X, 10, having given the 40 per cent of agreements, and the other, XII, 7, being one of those upon whose name no two agreed. Critical study of their outlines gives only one key to this great difference in difficulty, namely, that the one upon which there was agreement strongly suggests the familiar figure of a man (with upturned coat collar).
From out of the 120 blots three have been chosen here as examples for a full report of the subjects' answers, the times being also given for greater completeness. These three characters are reproduced in Figure 2, and their respective descriptions follow:—
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 |
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| III, 1. | VIII, 10. | IX, 4. |
| Figure 2. | ||
| III, 1. | ||
| Subject. | Imagined Object. | Times. Seconds. |
| A. | Cabbage head. | 3. |
| B. | Animal with mouth open. | 46. |
| C. | Fairy on a cloud. | 11. |
| D. | Woman, seated, basket of vegetables in her lap. | 12. |
| E. | Top of an Indian's head, nose swollen. | 4. |
| F. | Grotesque Indian's head. | 22. |
| G. | Rabbit sitting hunched up. | 16. |
| H. | Potted plant on the ground. | 7.5 |
| I. | Rooster sitting in a bunch of vegetables. | 44. |
| J. | Grinning head of a beast. | 3. |
| K. | Head of chicken with a top-knot. | 2. |
| L. | Monstrous man's head. | 1.5 |
| M. | Flower. | 2.5 |
| N. | Cock's head, comb erect. | 4. |
| O. | "Punch." | 1.5 |
| P. | Head of a woodcock. | 6. |
| VIII, 10. | ||
| Subject. | Imagined Object. | Times. Seconds. |
| A. | Puritan scold about to be ducked. | 9. |
| B. | Woman extending her hand. | 2. |
| C. | Veiled woman on a stool; basket at her feet. | 8. |
| D. | Woman on stilts. | 16.7 |
| E. | Mermaid enveloped in her hair. | 6. |
| F. | Fore part of a grazing deer. | 3.3 |
| G. | Bear. | 4. |
| H. | Man sitting on the limb of a tree. | 3.8 |
| I. | Monkey on a three-legged stool. | 4.5 |
| J. | Dog, tail very straight. | 7. |
| K. | Man digging. | 3. |
| L. | Girl in a high-chair throwing something into a basket. | 1. |
| M. | Chimpanzee. | 4. |
| N. | Old woman sitting on a tub on two legs; children at right. | 1.3 |
| O. | Person sitting on a person in a chair. | 4. |
| P. | Woman sitting on a rock. | 4.5 |
| IX, 4. | ||
| Subject. | Imagined Object. | Times. Seconds. |
| A. | Demon on a beast. | 4. |
| B. | Monster's head. | 16.3 |
| C. | Head of an Arab. | 8. |
| D. | Running animal frisking. | 2. |
| E. | Girl in a tall cap, seated. | 4. |
| F. | Running pea-fowl, head on one side. | 6.2 |
| G. | Chimera. | 11.5 |
| H. | New style lady's bonnet. | 70. |
| I. | Head of some one-eyed creature. | 33.5 |
| J. | Bat, flying. | 47.8 |
| K. | Two shrimps. | 20. |
| L. | Child falling from a tub, falling from overturning stool. | 2. |
| M. | Half of a sweet-pea bloom. | 3.5 |
| N. | Snake coiled around a stick. | 3. |
| O. | Horseshoe-crab. | 5. |
| P. | Human head (left part of blot only). | 21. |
Why one subject should see in a blot a "cabbage head" and the next an "animal with his mouth open", or why a professor should be reminded by a blot of "half a sweet pea blossom" and his wife of a "snake coiled round a stick", of course no one can at present pretend to explain. There is a temptation in such cases of association as these to call the results the choice of chance, but this means too little—or too much. It is clear that, as a general principle, the experience, and especially the early experience, of the subject has important influence. For example, study of the records shows that subject H., a purely domestic woman, is reminded most often of domestic objects; while subject O., who is an artist and student of mythology, sees in the blots many picturesque and fanciful things. The difference between the imaginations of the country and city bred is clear. Altogether there is evidence here that the laws of the reproductive imagination, still for the most part hid in the neural paths, are substantial laws, which may one day be found entirely out and reduced to words and to more or less of mathematical certainty of statement. Meanwhile it is something to establish, if possible, in a manner unmistakably demonstrable, the empirical conditions under which this "faculty" of mind performs its marvelous combinations and effects, for the imagination is one of the most interesting as well as most important phases of mentality.
In particular would it be interesting to know to what degree, if at all, the fixed ideas, delusions, and changed emotional conditions of what the Germans conveniently term der Wahn, influence and subvert the reproductive imaginations of the persons who are the victims of these obsessions and delusions, fixed into their mental natures deep as life.
The pleasantness of this image-making phase of the mind's process is distinct and is not a little of the permanent satisfaction which is part of the reward of the labor of "acquiring an education"—an outworn and now somewhat misleading expression, but none the less denotative of what is meant here. Nothing more sharply marks off the boor from the gentleman than a lack of this creative fancy. It should, then, be acquired for its own sake, as well as for its educative usefulness.
Observe that here, too, is distinct evidence of the motor basis of a psychic function as subtle even as fancy: the suggested "object" came into clear consciousness most frequently as "a name, articulate, visual, or auditory", in short, always a body-derived symbol, a motor correlate. Here again bobs up our skill so often referred to in these pages, the term in itself a symbol of fine neuro-glandulo-muscular adaptation. These imaginings were relatively free associations, and they certainly have an importance of their own in easy, as well as in pleasant, learning. Cultivate them, therefore.
We have, however, in addition to this, the ability to force the constructive imagination, just as we have the power strenuously to work out a line of thought, for example in writing a "composition", an essay, or a book. All real education is developed thus—by the unrolling of intelligence out of materials obtained everywhere and all the time, and in all probability, mostly subconsciously. We may have much knowledge and even learning, but not education without this constructive process of imagination. The more conscious this construction, the better and more useful for the student. When conscious this is called thought (technically "ratiocination"), which we shall describe and apply later.
It is interesting to consider a little more in detail this deliberate constructive imagination. It is really a very remarkable process, which we well may try to analyze as a type of constructive mentation. There is such a large individual difference in people that it is scarcely possible to find two who will agree to the same statements as to the facts. But none the less we may take for an example a musical theme, or a simple melody commonly called a tune; heard once, in my own case, this is not recalled, save in the smallest bits, a bit here or there in attenuated form. But heard twice or more, then three or four days elapse with total submergence, that is, nothing at all being heard from the melody. Then, curiously enough, it begins to become conscious, now and then a strain here or there of the air or theme. If then I hum or play a few strains, the missing parts, more or less complete, soon appear, but gradually and in fragments, especially if I whistle or play these fragments on some instrument. Performance of some kind is generally essential to recall. We have to push the imagination-association. The process is actual repetition, even to automaticity, even to triteness. If the new tune is attractive (a complex quality psychologically), there is a distinct tendency to hum it and sing it until it gets more than tiresome. Obviously it has by this time become a real part of the effective mind. Then, perhaps more or less actively, it sinks into the subconscious aspect of the mind, having been repeated until it is positively unpleasant to have in consciousness. When a tune has become so familiar on a basis of pleasure, it tends thus to repeat itself even to dismissal. It is in this way that the constructive imagination works.
This may be employed as a useful type of this form of imagination and from this illustration we may suggest more details adapted for the process of learning. Let us analyze a little more fully what has taken place in this common experience of learning (by the constructive imagination) an ordinary sequence of musical tones. We find six more or less obvious but yet arbitrarily chosen elements in this process. First, there is an impression on the mind, which is subconscious therein, or in the nervous system, as we may state it. Second, we find a process of unconscious integration, in which period (several days in the case used as an illustration) there is no awareness whatever of the integrative process that is going on. Third, there is a fragmentary flotation into consciousness and the fragments are then made more conspicuous by action, and by repetition. Fourth, there is a process of conscious integration by effort; this is by far more effective if it be helped by motor performance such as humming, singing, playing the tune on some instrument, or whistling. Fifth, there is a stage of conscious familiarity or even of over-familiarity. And sixth, there is a real mental submersion, the melody being present then as real knowledge.
Now I take it that all matters of knowledge, all acquirement occurs more or less in this same way, whether the precise learning be that of the Constitution of the United States of America, or a list of the Presidents and their life-data, or the irregular French verbs, or the rule for finding the cube-root, or the provoking and absurd "rules" (seldom followed) of Latin grammar, or a set of propositions in geometry, or the physiology of the regulation of the body-heat, or the geologic periods, or the theories of heredity, or what not. The process always seems to be in some degree the same as in the impression and recollection of a new melody. Let us work it out practically for our immediate purpose:—
The material to be learned is read through once or twice, but, being relatively difficult, is not consciously learned. The practical point here, is the importance of concentrated attention on the more difficult and arbitrary material in a subject of study, in order to impress the brain all the more vigorously. Retention would often be aided too, as has been said, by doing this study with some emotional tone, preferably one of great determination or of enthusiasm, even anger; but not worry, a form of fear.
The mind, finding the material consonant and its acquisition expedient, works it over, not only within itself but more or less also with the former contents of the mind. The practical "moral" of this interval is obvious:—the value of review, which reinforces the impression on the brain. Another moral is peace of mind and absence of worry,—implying implicit trust in the subconscious fusion-process of the mind.
Fragments here and there float into consciousness, so that we are reminded that the mind is working on them, and thus is kept at it. We should learn to attend to our "subconscious", our "oversoul."
At the next attempt at learning (whether it be a few hours away or a few days), effort is used, what we call conscious study, and we find integration easier than before. Going over the same material to be learned, after a few days, deliberately and carefully once or twice, lends confidence in the mind by showing that processes are helping which are unknown to the student at the time.
The stint is then learned and we are conscious of the fact. Here work, and especially motor expression—work on the material, is very productive, making it thus thoroughly familiar by the instinctive pleasure of creation, of learning, and on the physiologic principles of imitation and of habituation. The importance of working over the material in some motor way (usually writing it or talking it to some one, if it be only to ourselves) comes out here; also the importance of repetition.
The material is then "forgotten", or so-called forgotten; but in reality it is truly learned and is in the mind in the best possible form for use as required, or when by chance the association-cue is given.
Such are some of the practical hints toward easy learning which may be suggested even in a process as abstract as the constructive imagination. The reader can do similarly for other learning-processes, but this or something similar is the standard modus operandi of the learning mind, at least when working on all series of difficult facts and principles. The less arbitrary and more interesting the material, the easier this mental process is and the simpler, although the same in principle. This is the process sometimes known as the association of ideas, and we may try to analyze it a little better in the light of the actual association of the actual tune offered as a type.
A practical point may be noted here. If the desired thought or relation or whatever else be the kind of associational process desired cannot be produced by a few minutes of really concentrated effort, it is not scientific to try further at that time without a break in the mental effort. We should rather await a brain refreshed by a little rest and helped by the subconscious integrative actions that are pretty sure to be set going by the conscious effort already made. When the problem is taken up consciously again, later in the hour or the day or the week, the chance of success, other things equal, will be much improved and that without risk of uneconomical fatigue. Moreover, there is in this constructive learning such a thing as absolute block of the will,—else of course there would not be the empirical, definite limitation of ingenuity and invention. I recall an instance in which William James, master in constructive thought, showed just this phenomenon before a small class in philosophy,—he said, after a minute or two of strenuous effort, that he had tried repeatedly to work out that particular thought, but that he could not advance his construction beyond a certain relatively incomplete stage.
Imagination of the thinking kind tends to make ideas more "massive" and so more educative. Massiveness makes them easier to realize in their actual meaning; in this case more imaginable.
The next topic in regard to constructive imagination is the matter of complexes of mental units. Knowledge in some way is in the mind in the form of mental integrations. Morton Prince terms these "dormant ideas", but obviously units in some sense or other although not yet clear to physiology. These mental units have dynamic relations which they and the nerve-energy have in common, so that "ideas", especially when colored by a definite feeling-tone, have an inherent impulse to interaction.
Therefore an effort should be made by the student in all ways to make these complexes, (1) as numerous; (2) as complex; (3) as active; (4) as permanent; and (5) as generally useful, as possible. The process of so making them is effort, and is at once imagination, thought, association, and remembering combined. Now, (1) we can make these complexes of the mind, these dormant ideas or units of mental process, more numerous by reading, talking, by taking notes, by observation, by thinking; in short by all the common modes of acquiring new concepts or ideas, or by expressing them.
(2) We can make them more complex by practically the same means.
(3) We can make them more active (a) by including in the complex an emotion or a feeling. These constructive complexes in the mind may be made more active also by (b) developing interest, instinctive or personal, and (c) by association with material which already has interest or emotional tone for us. William James has emphasized this last essential fact in his "Talks with Teachers." He says that "any object not interesting in itself, may become interesting through becoming associated with an object in which an interest already exists." It was likewise found by Pavlov and more recently by Watson at Johns Hopkins University (as discussed in the previous chapter) that there is no assignable limit to the arbitrariness of the association that may be "artificially" made in the nervous system. Nerve-surgery suggests precisely the same thing, for, as has been often shown in practice, a cut sensory nerve may be sutured even to a motor nerve stump and the sensory function sometimes return in all its essential completeness. There seems to be no end to the power of association or of adaptation possible in the nervous system, especially in its more liquid gray-matter.
(4) Permanency of the mental units or complexes may be reached best by way of (a) emotional tone; (b) by the richness of the recorded relationships; (c) by the intensity of the personal attention when the perception first takes place; and (d) by the frequency of review; these among other means.
(5) The utility of the mental complexes or units is reached automatically by the mere avoidance of thoughts and the like of the Scholastic type, problems and theories which have no deeper reality or basis in fact than the chance relationships of pure ideas, which often in reality are only verbal quibbles. For the most part, we should think of and discuss real problems with some really human applications,—and with some really human man or woman, too.
Originality, ingenuity, grace, skill are terms for various phases of the productive and efficient constructive imagination. A man or woman who lacks these is not educated. Skill, as we saw in the previous chapter, is a kind of potential imagination. We may suggest a working rule for becoming able in this line of constructive imagination, even if it be in almost slang terms: Get posted; get energetic; get interested; get busy; and TRY. And keep on trying. In any intelligent mind trying develops its own personal method, and we cannot be told how to improve these methods in the subconscious mind. Habit makes it easier and easier to remember, and more and more productive as well as easier. Constructing and the general use of the constructive imagination becomes after a while in itself (something too of delight which we always have ready at hand) a vast pleasure and delight. Not only in ideation but in feeling and willing, is the mental activity worth cultivation for its own sake, and like virtue and beauty it is its own reward.
Feeling-imagination lends emotional tone to the mental process and so gives it delight, or at least satisfaction, as well as power. This may be seen readily in poetry and in music. We have discussed already the stheneuphoric index. It means simply that we expend more energy in doing things which we enjoy doing than in those which are unpleasant to us. The practical importance of this matter is our excuse for its frequent mention.
Imagination is at once a most practicable and a most valuable educative process. Invention and scientific research would be unproductive without it. One of the greatest pathologists of recent times, Paul Ehrlich, "discoverer" of Salvarsan, spoke of his chemical imagination as his "greatest asset." Here some of my readers may suggest to themselves that the use of the imagination leads to what has been once and forever abandoned out of science and education as the deductive method. But the use of the constructive imagination is not "deduction", not a fitting of science to belief or to dogma or to mere opinion, but is rather an elaborate case of the sound and biologic method of trial and error. In using scientifically one's imagination, constructing a theory, we first sees if it fits. If not, we must be willing to throw it aside frankly and promptly; the only danger lies in obstinacy. Examples are innumerable of the great productiveness of this common method of trial and error. The indispensable employment of imagination is shown in the planning of the Atlantic cable, the telegraph, the wireless, the telephone, the electric light, submarines; these and many others could not have come into existence without a preliminary activity of creative imagination. Theories, hypotheses, philosophies, are all impossible without it. Imagination is at once more useful and more used than is commonly considered in educational theory. No knowledge can be made our very own without this creative process, often called "assimilation" to the contents of the mind. Summarizing, reviewing, and abstracting is a practical and mechanical process of using the constructive imagination. Better still in the process of using our memory to the best advantage is thought, thinking things over that we have just learned; there can be no true education without the essentials of this process, for it means self-reliance, independence, even manhood and womanhood. Thought over a study-topic tends, by association, to go beyond the original limits of the assignment as learned; and this is pure imagination. Thus it becomes the basis of initiative, of ingenuity, and of originality, of all true creation.
The creation of diagrams and illustrations is using the imagination to a great advantage; and the process is art in the making.
The constructive imagination may be aided in fact and consciously and deliberately developed by many proper means. In childhood it may be developed by the reading or hearing of fairy stories; "Swiss Family Robinson," and all such books; later on by the reading of books as "The Fairy Land of Science," Thomson's "Wonder of Life." histories of discoveries, Sir Oliver Lodge's presidential address on continuity, the novels of Jules Verne and H. G. Wells; by talking with fanciful and imaginative persons; and often by an active process of deliberate revery.
Another mode by which the creative imagination may be developed is the enlargement of our vocabulary, our list of words and the habitual use of these idea-handles in writing. New terms lead to new associations. In general, as we shall see, the dictionary is not used nearly so much as it should be for easy learning; its disuse is largely due to muscular laziness, not to mental indifference.
The third kind of imagination which we mentioned was the organic imagination. This may be termed the influence of the mind over the body, suggestion, and this is a very familiar word to all nowadays. Suggestion and its similars are strong and important processes in education. Ordinarily our interests are unrealized and our best capabilities wholly unknown. Millions of indigent and neglected children are thus handicapped. The playgrounds, camps, and the like develop this knowledge, or at least show how to do so. The basis of organic imagination is strictly a physiologic process, and I state each year with more and more emphasis, the result of much observation direct and otherwise, that there is no assignable limit to the voluntary control of the body. This matter may be extended to the intellectual subjects of education as well as to bodily education proper.
Ideas that are inherently meaningful in human reason; or that are massive, full of detail (for example, laboratory work and direct observation); or that are especially striking because of contrast-effects or from other conditions, exert the most suggestive influence and are thus the richest educationally and stimulate the imagination most. None the less, the use of the organic imagination is perhaps more hygienic and ethical than narrowly educative. But this, too, is education, how to be well and how to be happy. This invaluable part of learning, the organic imagination, however practically valuable, we must almost ignore here. But all the Why Worry books, and the New Thought, and Christian Science, all the mind-cures and some of the really scientific psycho-therapeutics, are applications of the organizing of the organic imagination. This is emotional suggestion which is of much value to easy learning.[2]