flowering, ought to show us that we have within our reach an
extraordinarily potent psychological implement.

So far then on the more negative side. I have indicated my strong
belief that much may be done to train the mind in self-control. Indeed
our whole education is built upon the faith that we can, perhaps not
implant new faculties, but develop dormant ones; and I am persuaded
that when future generations come to survey our methods and processes
of education, they will regard with deep bewilderment the amazing fact
that we applied so careful a training to other faculties, and yet left
so helplessly alone the training of the imaginative faculty, upon
which, as I have said, our happiness and unhappiness mainly depend. We
must, all of us be aware of the fact that there have been times in our
lives when all was prosperous, and when we were yet overshadowed with
dreary thoughts; or again times when in discomfort, or under the
shadow of failure, or at critical or tragic moments, we have had an
unreasonable alertness and cheerfulness. All that is due to the
subconscious mind, and we ought at least to try experiments in making
it obey us better.

I now pass on to consider a further possibility, and that is of
training and developing a higher sort of creative imagination. It is
all in reality part of the same subject, because it seems to be
certain that most human beings suffer by the suppression or the
dormancy of existing faculties. It is here, I believe, that much of
our intellectual education fails, from the tendency to direct so much
attention to purely logical and reasoning faculties, and to the
resolute subtraction from education of pure and simple enjoyment. I
used to try many experiments as a schoolmaster, and I remember at one
time bribing a slow and unintelligent class into some sort of