We have faith that the materials which we pour in at the hopper of sense impression will come out sooner or later at the spout of reaction, transformed by some mysterious process into efficient conduct.  While the machinery of the process, like the mills of the gods, certainly grinds slowly, it is some consolation to believe that, at any rate, it does grind; and we are perhaps fain to believe that the exceeding fineness of the grist is responsible for our failure to detect at the spout all of the elements that we have been so careful to pour in at the hopper.  What I should like to do is to examine this grinding process rather carefully,—­to gain, if possible, some definite notion of the kind of grist we should like to produce, and then to see how the machinery may be made to produce this grist, and in what proportions we must mix the material that we pour into the hopper in order to gain the desired result.

I have said that we must ask of every subject that we teach, How does it influence conduct?  Now when we ask this question concerning history a variety of answers are at once proposed.  One group of people will assert that the facts of history have value because they can be directly applied to the needs of contemporary life.  History, they will tell us, records the experiences of the race, and if we are to act intelligently we must act upon the basis of this experience.  History informs us of the mistakes that former generations have made in adjusting themselves to the world.  If we know history, we can avoid these mistakes.  This type of reasoning may be said to ascribe a utilitarian value to the study of history.  It assumes that historical knowledge is directly and immediately applicable to vital problems of the present day.

Now the difficulty with this value, as with many others that seem to have the sanction of reason, is that it does not possess the sanction of practical test.  While knowledge doubtless affects in some way the present policy of our own government, it would be very hard to prove that the influence is in any way a direct influence.  It is extremely doubtful whether the knowledge that the voters have of the history of their country will be recalled and applied at the ballot box next November.  I do not say that the study of history that has been going on in the common schools for a generation will be entirely without effect upon the coming election.  I simply maintain that this influence will be indirect,—­but I believe that it will be none the less profound.  One’s vote at the next election will be determined largely by immediate and present conditions.  But the way in which one interprets these conditions cannot help being profoundly influenced by one’s historical study or lack of such study.