A boy may sit in a class in algebra for weeks, with his mind far afield on some pet scheme, or building palatial edifices in the air, but not until he attends does he begin to grasp the problems presented.  It is literally as well as scripturally possible “to have ears and hear not.” Attention is the mother of learning.

Think of the force of that word attention in the American Army.  It is a delight to see the ranks straighten to that command—­would that our messages of truth could challenge the same response from that vast army of seekers after truth—­the boys and girls of the Church.  The soldier at attention not only stands erect, nor does he merely keep silence—­he is eagerly receptive—­anxious to receive a message which he is to translate into action.  His attitude, perhaps, is our best answer to the question, “What is attention?” Betts says, “The concentration of the mind’s energy on one object of thought is attention.”

As Magnusson expresses it, “Attention is the centering of consciousness on a portion of its contents.”  And Angell adds, “Attention is simply a name for the central and most active portion of the field of consciousness.”

The mind, of course, during waking hours, is never merely passive.  With its flood of ideas it is always recalling, observing, comparing, analyzing, building toward conclusions.  These processes go on inevitably—­go on with little concern about attention.  But when we narrow the field—­when we bring our mental energy to a focus on something specific and particular we then attend.

Betts, in his The Mind and Its Education, very happily illustrates the meaning of attention: 

“Attention Measures Mental Efficiency.—­In a state of attention the mind may be likened to the rays of the sun which have been passed through a burning glass.  You may let all the rays which can pass through your window pane fall hour after hour upon the paper lying on your desk, and no marked effects follow.  But let the same amount of sunlight be passed through a lens and converged to a point the size of your pencil, and the paper will at once burst into flame.”

To follow another analogy, attention is to the energies of the mind what the pipe line leading into the power plant is to the water in the canyon above.  It directs and concentrates for the generation of power.  Just as the water might run on and on to little or no purpose, so the energies of a boy or girl may be permitted to drift aimlessly toward no conviction unless the teacher wins him to an attention that rivets truth to his life.

In a discussion of attention the question of the relation of interest to attention is bound to arise.  Do we attend to things because they are interesting?  Or are we interested in things because we give them our attention?  The two terms are so interwoven in meaning that they are frequently treated under one chapter heading.  Our purpose here is not to attempt to divorce them, but rather to give them emphasis because of their significance in the teaching process.