5. "Listen to what I am going to read to you. When I have finished I shall ask you to give me the sense of the passage: 'Many opinions have been given on the value of life. Some call it good, others call it bad. It would be more just to say that it is mediocre, for on the one hand our happiness is never so great as we would have it, and on the other hand our misfortunes are never so great as others would have them. It is this mediocrity of life which makes it just, or rather which prevents it from being radically unjust.'"

Directions to Examiners.—In the use of the Binet scale there are various pitfalls that await the beginner. In the first place he is almost certain to array himself on the side of the child and to declare in some instances that the test is not a fair one—the child could have passed had he understood what was wanted. One frequently sees this attitude towards the puzzle test. (V. 5.) For example, the examiner is dissatisfied when the child simply moves the pieces of card about in a meaningless way, and he tries to explain more clearly what is wanted. I have seen one examiner go so far as to show the child the solution, and then give him a pass when he repeated it. The examiner must always remember that a child who has reached the required level of intelligence will himself see what is wanted. This comprehension is indeed the very thing we are testing for.

Secondly, the examiner is apt to show by his manner when he is dissatisfied with a child's answer. In some cases this may lead him to correct himself—e.g., VII. 1. The examiner must bear constantly in mind that all answers are equally pleasing to him; he is not there to instruct the child, but to test him. When meaningless or absurd responses are given, as they frequently are, the examiner must accept them cheerfully, even in some cases with praise, and record a failure. The record, of course, must never be visible to the child.

Again, the examiner must not suppose that the scale can be applied mechanically. Both experience and judgment are necessary before the results can be correctly gauged. In certain tests—e.g., the absurdities—a child's manner tells as much as his words. The children on whom I have tried this test nearly always laughed when they really grasped the point. Before he lays much stress on his results an examiner should have tested at least twenty children.

There is another factor which prevents any mechanical use of the scale leading to satisfactory results, and that is the variability of the child's responsiveness. With an unsympathetic examiner, or with an unfortunate start, he will do himself less than justice. It is the business of the examiner to keep the child in that state of mental exhilaration which enables him to do his best. Words of encouragement and praise should in some cases be freely used, but, of course, care must always be taken to avoid, whether in word, tone, gesture, or facial expression, the slightest suggestion of the correct solution. The happy state of mind must be secured at the very beginning, and for this purpose the choice of the first test is very important. I call to mind a bright child of eight who was confronted first with a simple puzzle test. For some reason, probably over-anxiety to do well, she did not see the solution, and being too intelligent not to perceive her own failure, she burst into tears. Such unfortunate accidents are, however, rare. The children usually enjoy the interview.

To secure a good start one must begin with a test which the child will regard as easy and pleasant. One soon knows almost at sight of the child what it is best to try first. One usually begins with tests for an age at least a year younger than that of the little subject, and works upward.

The examiner should be alone with the child except for the presence of someone whose business it is to make notes. In such tests as the description of a picture, the definition tests, the questions of everyday life, the child's full answers should be written down. The examiner should, however, record his own judgment as to whether the child has passed or failed at once, as there are various factors which tend to make an immediate judgment both more certain and more accurate than a delayed one.

So far as the actual testing is concerned, the examiner should confine himself to the words given in the text. He will find himself tempted sometimes "to draw the child out." For instance, in the picture test, when the child has given him a brief enumeration of objects and then stopped, he will find himself saying, "But what is this man doing?" The child can probably tell; but he must not on this account be accorded a pass on the descriptive level; he has already shown that his level is that of simple enumeration.

Some of the tests (definitions, comparisons, suggestion) bring out a tendency to automatism which is present in many children. Thus, a child having replied correctly that a butterfly is bigger than a fly, may go on to state that wood is bigger than glass, and paper than cardboard; or having found that "It is a fork" is well received as a definition of that implement, he may give similar replies to the other queries in the definition test. This automatism should not be checked: it should be recorded. The more intelligent children begin to exhibit a certain dissatisfaction with their own answers, however readily they are accepted.

It is not always easy to follow the working of the childish mind, and it is not usually advisable to press for further explanation. Such a course is apt to puzzle the child, and render the conditions less favourable. If you are not certain that he should be allowed to pass, you may be practically certain that he should not. Sometimes one gets interesting glimpses into the subject's mentality. A little boy once told me he had never seen a butterfly. Nevertheless, I asked the comparison question, and he gave what is a very usual answer: "A butterfly is bigger than a fly." "How do you know," I said, "if you have never seen a butterfly?" "It's a bigger word," he replied. Another time a little girl, who also declared she had never seen a butterfly, gave another answer which is also very common: "A butterfly is yellow, and a fly is black." The source of this knowledge was not discovered; but one of my students told me later that a child whom she questioned about a butterfly said: "I have seen one; it was blue, but it ought to have been yellow." On being asked why, she responded: "Butter is yellow." The test, of course, is not for the knowledge of the things, but for the power of making a comparison. Occasionally one has to mark a child as doubtful. Thus, in defining abstract terms (XII. 4) Binet records that out of forty-five nine-year-old children, four passed, thirty-six failed, and five were doubtful. This test, however, gives an unusually large percentage of doubtfuls.