We who teach are very apt to overestimate thinking in our own line of work and to undervalue thinking outside of the school. There is, perhaps, as much good thought in a lady’s bonnet as in the solution of a quadratic equation. A sewing-machine embodies as much genuine thought as the demonstration of a geometrical theorem. The construction of a locomotive or a railway bridge displays as much effective thinking as Hegel’s “Philosophy of History,” or Kant’s “Critique of the Pure Reason.” Most men think very well in doing their own kind of work; in many other spheres of activity they must let other people think for them. When the professor of astronomy discusses a problem connected with his science, he thinks for himself; but when he buys a piece of land, he gets a lawyer to think for him in the examination of the title and the preparation of the deed. The lawyer thinks for himself in the court-house; but when he goes home to dine, he expects his wife, or the cook, to have done the thinking for him in the preparation of the dinner. Grover Cleveland had the reputation of thinking for himself: many a politician found out that this reputation was founded on fact; but when the ex-President is sick, or has the toothache, he is willing to let a physician or a dentist think for him. In like manner, a pupil may think very well upon the play-ground; but if the teacher, whose very name indicates the function of guiding, fails to guide the pupil aright, the latter may become a mere parrot in the class-room. What, then, is involved in making a pupil think?
Thinking defined.
The difficulty in answering this question is increased by the diversity of meanings of the word thinking. The teacher who is not clear in his use of the term may employ exercises calculated to develop one kind of mental activity, and then accuse the pupils of dulness because they do not show facility in some other intellectual process. When a text-book on mental science defines the intellect as the power by which we think, the term thinking is used to designate every form of intellectual activity. The Century Dictionary defines thinking as an exercise of the cognitive faculties in any way not involving outward observation, or the passive reception of ideas from other minds. The logician defines thinking as the process of comparing two ideas through their relation to a third. Many exercises of the school are supposed to cultivate thinking in the last sense of the word, when in reality they cultivate thinking only in the widest acceptation of the term.
A faulty exercise.
The writer saw a normal school principal conduct an exercise in thinking, as the latter called it. Turning to one of the pupils, he said, “Charley, will you please think of something?” As soon as the boy raised his hand the principal asked, “Does it belong to the animal, the vegetable, or the mineral kingdom?” Then turning to the other members of the class, he said, “Who of you can think of the vegetable in Charley’s mind?” The names of at least forty different vegetables were given and spelled and written upon the black-board. At last a pupil succeeded in naming what was in Charley’s mind. Then there was a look of triumph upon the faces of the principal and the class, as much as to say, “Isn’t that splendid thinking?” At least one person felt like burying his face in his hands for very shame; for here was resurrected from the dead an old exercise of philanthropinism which was buried more than a hundred years ago. What should one call that kind of mental activity? Guessing. That is all it is. The exercise tended to beget a habit very difficult to break up after it has been formed.
A better plan.
Far better was an exercise which the writer witnessed in a graded school. The teacher had called the class in the second reader. As soon as all the pupils were seated she said, “You may read the first paragraph.” Instead of reading orally, the class became so quiet that one might have heard a pin drop. After most of the hands were raised she called upon one pupil to tell what the paragraph said. The second paragraph was read and the substance of it stated in the pupil’s own words. An omission was supplied by another pupil; an incorrect phrase was modified by giving the correct words for conveying the thought. In the course of the lesson it became necessary to clarify the ideas of some. This was accomplished by a few pertinent questions which made the pupils think for themselves. After the entire lesson had been read in this way she dismissed the class without assigning a lesson. Every member of the class went to his seat, took out his slate, and began to write out the lesson in his own language. The interest and pleasure depicted on their faces showed that it was not a task but a joy to express thought by the pencil. The teacher had given them something to think about; she had taught them to express their thoughts in spoken and written language; her questions had stimulated their thinking, and when, later in the day, the lesson in oral reading was given, the vocal utterance showed that every pupil understood what he was reading. There was no parrot-like utterance of vocables, but an expression of thought based upon a thorough understanding and appreciation of what was read. The silent reading was an exercise in thought-getting and thought-begetting, the language lesson upon the slate was an exercise in active thinking through written words, and the oral expression furnished a test by which the teacher could ascertain what she had accomplished in getting her pupils to think.
A suggestive reply.
The first thing necessary in making the pupil think is best shown by relating another incident. The catalogue of a well-known school announced that the teachers were aiming to get their pupils to read Latin at sight and to think in more tongues than one. A captious superintendent wrote to the principal, saying, “I envy you. How do you do it? We would be satisfied if we could make pupils think in English.” The reply was equally sharp and suggestive: “You ask how we make pupils think. I answer, By giving them something to think about. If you ask how we make them think in more tongues than one, I answer, By giving them, in addition to the materials of thought, the instruments of thought as found in two or more languages.”
The first essential.