OBSERVATION

Marlborough Express, Volume XXXVI, Issue 226, 27 September 1902, Page 5 (Supplement)

OBSERVATION

(By Hon. Sir Robert Stout, K.C.M.G., Chief Justice of N.Z., in the Christchurch Press.) 11 That is the truly secret which lies ever open before as, and the least seenis'that which the eye constantly sees. .SCHII-liER. ,».Tb.§ need of training our youth to ||||)it of-observation is impressed '$M^ll^eao^t^rs. Have we adequately waiiled what observation means ? Some saydk means an open eye, and the listening ear to our surroundings, tut it means much more. Here are .tbrea intelligent men walking up %£akori rpad in the pity of Wellington.^ They Iqllow the. winding road ujp" the'valley^ and begin to ascend the mountain on their right. As they rise they can see the harbour in all its beauty, and they get a peep of the ocean outside Pencarrow Head. What lies before them is a land and seascape combined. How differently they are affected by the. view ! One intently gazes on the scenery and invites his companions to admire the distant Rimutaka with its . silvery mantle, the ocean in the distance, the changing clouds, the colour of the water in the harbour, with its bars of green and purple, the shades and glints of sunshine on the hills on the opposite shore, the sun in the heavens now obscured by a fleecy cloud, and anon sinning in all its splendour. These are what his eyes see, and he is rapt in admiration at Nature's loveliness. Another has not his mind inspired or--his imagination touched by the scenic beauties before him. He carries a Maori kit, and in it be has . a large stoppered bottle, and in his hand a butterfly net. As he walks he views keenly every tuft of grass, and a passing insect kindles his emotion. He is both a botanist and entomologist. Finding a special example of the lepidoptera, or a rare spider, or a rare plant, is of deeper interest to him than how sun, mountains, olouds, or water appear. His eyes see them not. Neither the raptures of the one Over the view, nor the interest of the other in insects or plants stirs the third. They are foreign to him. He is thinking of humanity and the struggles of men. He notices how new building 3 are being erected at Northland and Kelborne. The signs of life—the steamers crossing the harbour, the passing to and fro of vehicles, the crowds of people in the distance, the bridge in sight—these interest him. His passion for knowing men and men's doings manifests itself even in his walks. He is this morning carrying some newspapers with him, copies of English and American papers. At their first resting place he opens his paper—a copy of the London "Weekly Times, and is soon absorbed in an obituary notice of the great Hungarian statesman, Tisza. When he has finished ' this notice he unfolds a copy of the best of newspapers, The Springfield Bepublican—published in Springfield, Massachusetts, and he has with him the Evening Post of Philadelphia -—founded by Benjamin Franklin No literature comes amiss to him. Tbe doiDgs of men and women are of more importance than scenery or many spiders. He can tell you what is goiing otr in Japan or at Seoul, or At IrfeskrOr in the region " Where Tbrea'j&jfflipifes Meet," as well as all about" tM last fight between clericals and Socialists in Belgium, and the doings of the Land League in Emerald Isle. . iTbese travellers^are all observer^ a^d I mention them, as we are apt tcraesteleHae ierms " observers" to p.t JwJtwaA. Ma tory, *S*J3J#ft?»%.-; iK>:V,.:if.;c. ■■;,-...• <>-,=-■; ■ . /i-;H .fobservatiou has ff deep mean ing Around it ma^Jte-'MM-td wage the WWfl 1 of pllosopy' afcd theology.

Why are there different school? of ; philosophy ? Is it not because the theory of knowing differs according to the school of thought ? How you answer the question, " What can you observe" classifies you philosophically—places you in your ' special school. It may be the crude rtalist, or in one or other of the schools of idealists, or you may be called an Hegelian or a Neo-Hegelian, a Kantian or a Neo Kantian, etc. Some people get impatient at philosophical differentiations and distinctions. They exclaim, "Do you not see things as they are ?" Ferrier, in his "Institutes of Metapbyeic"—a c'ear and beautifully written work — lays down as his first proposition :— " Along with whatever any intelligence know?, it must as the ground or condition of its knowledge have some cognisance of itself." Do we realise this when we speak of observation ? Have we thought what object cam subject and subject-corn-object mean? "Things in themeelveß" we never can know, no, nor even their qualities. To understand what observation means, we must have a theory of knowledge, and become acquainted with philosophy. And what of theology? Is it not concerted with how we know and what we can know ? Its phraseology will bring this truth home to us—inspiration, the absolute, the soul, etc., etc. One matter that has troubled and still troubles many good people is th doctrine of the " Real Presence." It is a problem of observation, and we can only appreciate its meaning if we read the history of the discussions — agps ago — about " Noumena," "Phenomena," and "Accidents." It is not the only theological question that has a philosophical history.

Observation means, therefore, much more than employing tbe " seeing eye and the lis ening ear." It may appear a paradox-to say so, but it does not require the seeing eye or the listening ear. The true observer is nob be who makes a catalogue of what be sees or bears. The catalogue is u?eful, but it is the work of the jackal, not of the lion. Mere facts, as Wuntsays, "must be the steppingstones of something higher. We must have a comprehensive conception of nature." Let me illustrate this. If we go to a physician and consult him as to our health, we exprct him to be able to tell us how we became ill, what is tbe cause of our ailment. He may note our tempeiature, the rate <>f the pulse, the breathing, the colour of the tongue, or the ekin, etc., etc. He may catalogue all the symptoms and all the appearances, but these avail nothing if he cannot diagnose the disease. Can he draw correct inferences from-what he observes, or is ho a mere provider of facts ? A jackal or a lion ?

In one of the most charming books of travel ever published. " Tang weera," by our eminent engineer, Mr 0. Napier Bell, the difference between observing and knowing what the things observed mean is illustrated by his sketch of the Mosquito Indians' newspaper. He is voyaging in a canoe on a river on the Mosquito coast, and one incident is thus related :—

" After paddling some time, be came to a fine sandbank, on which tbe Indians desired to land, to adjust their toilet before reaching the Twaka village. Wbile they changed their waist clothes, put on their sbirt- and combed their hair, we strolled along the saud to stretch our legs, and read the news—for a sandbank on a river is like a newspaper in a town. On its surfnee you learn all that has recently been taking pleca. Here a great trough in the sand shows where an alligator has dragged himself to bask in the sun. Long winding trails with littla footmarks indicate the track of the iguanas, and you follow it to fee whether he has safely rencVied the bush, or ha<» bad to turn and run for the river. Lit I-dog-like tracks are those of the c ati or the racoon.. In this upturned sand lie bas suspected the presence of egg 3, and you see the mark of his nose when he pressed it to thu sand to detect the smell of the laying iguana or to rtoise. At the edge of the grass you see a large track, the size of a man's hand, where 'a iiger' has come to the river for a drink. You follow it to the edge of the water, and see that after taking his drink he bas walked along the bank and turned again into the bush. Many tracks of bird or beast afford you an opportunity of testing your knowledge of the inhabitants of the forest, and if you are at loss you can call an Indian up, and he interprets for you at once."

This is true observation. A mind has unified tbe things seen, and from them truths are deduced.

We often hear it said, '«figures can prove anything." It is a fallacious remuTk, but it emphasises the need of something besides figures before any result Can be arrived at. Be.hirfd the figures there must be the thinking mind. Wo read the returns, for example, of our Post Office Sayings Banks. We-notice that the deposits exceed withdrawals. •Is-: not that evidence of prosperity? This thing observed is not enough to enable us to draw a conclusion. It may be and it may not be. -There may be no ; other investment for saving?,; or the. .solvency of other banks may-be considered doubtful, or the interest givfcn may be * shade

higher than other banks, or there may be no interest given by other banks on current accounts. To draw the right conclusion from figures requires the highest skill of the statistician. There is so much to see. It is only to the unthinking and the non-intel-ligent that " figures can prove anything."

The great engineer is the man who can observe, and can predict what will happen if a certain thing be done. " Put up that groin," he says, " and the river will no longer eat away that bank." " Erect that breakwater and your beach will be denuded of its covering shingle and the sea will sweep away your land.' Before an engineer can prophesy he must have betn a keen observer, but he must be something more. The power of thought is the prime necessity. Karl Pearson, in his lecture on " National Life from the standpoint of Science" gives his experience regarding engineers. " I have," says he, " been engaged for sixteen years in helping to train engineers and those of my old pupils who are now coming to the front in life are not those who stuck to facts and formulae, and sought only for what they thought would be useful to them in their profession ; on the contrary, the lads who paid attention to method, who thought more of proofs than formulae, who accepted even the specialised branches of their training as a means of developing habits of observation, rather than of collecting 1 useful facts' —these lada have developed into men who are succeeding in life Their knowledge

of method, and their powers of observation enabled them to supply new needs, to answer to the call when there was a demand, not for old knowledge but for trained braius."

It is the same story everywhere. We need the thinker, not the mere cataloguer of what he thinks he sees. In all our discussions about technical education we cannot afford to lose sight of this truth. Teaching boys carpentering, or plumbing, or wood carving, is not technical education. That must be taught which, having knowledge—science —at its basis, develops the brain power of the pupils. We applaud Owen's genius that from a few bones he could construct a bird or a mammal. It is tbe man who can draw inferences that has glorified science. We must., as Tyndall said, have imagination in science. When therefore we speak about training our youths to habits of observation it is mental aptitude we are striving for. If our education system does nofc produce people with brains we have wasted our treasure and our strength for nought. Get understanding is ever the messaye of the wise teacher. If we get thinkers then the Sfccreis before our eyes loses its mystery. Our politicians will be able to predict what the new bill will do fifty years hence, and not merely what votes it will catch at the next election. The engineer will be able to tell what the result of his work will be. The physician will make few blunders. Failures —and their name is legion —will be rare.

I think there is a dim realisation of this fact coming home to us. Mallock has told us what " ability" mean-. It is worth much more than strong muscles or an enduring physical constitution. " Tbe letter killeth, the spirit giveth life." To get the worker brains, not the mere physical machine, is the problem of the age. We must exalt ability and be prepared to pay for it. A stupid engineer may be dear at JbSOO a year, and an engineer of genius cheap at £5000 for the same period. In one year's expenditure his salary may be saved. Has the South African war not taught us this lesson in, alas ( blood and tears, not to mention millions wasted ? It has shown us on many occasions men brave aa lions, and capable of gnat physical, eridururice, Ud by asses. The demand for more s^couung meant this. But it is not in war alone that we see the

Nt CG-^sity of brains. The State has undertaken, and is likely to undertake mauy dudts. It is entering on many commercial enterprises. Unless it has able and honest men to manage its multifarious services, disaster is iv measurable distance. The big trust or syndicate or company does not hesitate to pay its captains of industry well, so that it may get men of talent. And the State must follow this example. Why are the United States of America able to compete with, the world in manufactures ? Because there is something besides the physical material in their products —there is ability. Intelligence wins in the end.

The charm in Con an Doyle's novels lies in the ability of the characters to draw inferences—his " Sherlock Holmes," the " Hound of the Baskervilles," etc, exalt this gift. To see the secret—that requires brains. How many guilty persona escape, and how many failures of justice there are because tbe police detective lacked brains. What appeared to him as trifles were really important clues, pointing to the innocence or guilt of the su3pect. Have, detectives studied what scientific enquirers mean by the " process of exhaustion ? ' Do tbey appreciate the "Law of Parsimony?" When, therefore, it is said that our children must be trained to pbservatipp, let us not imagine it is merelyinotiog what is seen or heard. They mflsi become thinking wen and

women, not a race of dryasdusts, busy cataloguing beetles, or adding up rows of figures. Trained to ob?erve, no doubt, but taught that that is only the alphabet of education. rlhe observed things must speak. The veriest trifles must not be overlooked. To the primitive man the mountain, the thuuder, the lightning, the ccean, were all in all. The civilised man listens to the still small voice that follows the thunder. As individuals atd nations we may have to pass through this phase of primitive life. The time must, come, if our evolution is an ascent, when the eye will be able to see what is now least seen, though ever before it, and when the listening ears will cot be dominated by the loud noise. Not till then will we have been trained to observation.

One caution may be given. We have ever with us the personal equation. Loomis, in his " Treaties of Astronomy," tells U3 that even in observing the stars through a tele scope this has to be allowed for. Inhere are two photographers taking the same view with the same camera. The views will differ. Intelligence is required in taking a photograph, and the artistic sense is not equally developed in all. What is the end of the whole matter? We must train our youth to see, to bear, and to note what is seen and heard, and also to think. " The eye sees what the eye is prepared to see,' said Hobbes. Trained to think—that is the requisite for our future race. Macbiavelli sa|d people could be grouped in three classes—those who think for themselves, those who think as others think, and those who do not think at all. He said, in his day there were few of the first class. Perhaps we are different, but there i 3 no census to which we can appeal for proof of any change. If only our people were thinkers for themselves, might not a way out ba found tor many of the problems we are trying to solve, the white man's burden lessened, and cur sons and daughters enter on a road Humanity has not yet trod.

Wellington, AugusS, 1902.