through the formality of a class exercise--but
he can _really teach_ only him who _attends_. The first big, outstanding
thought with reference to attention is that we should secure it, not so
much in the interest of order, important as it is in that connection,
but because it is the _sine qua non_ of _learning_.

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 f