■—mi— ■IIIMilHIPWHIIIIIIOimiUMIIIWiWMnHH.
m
I
iW B«J IUWlWO»l'»»*'"i •'»"«'«*'' '*•••''
iiiwy<iwMiiiiiiiiiwMiwi>(»iii!!«iMiiiMWiWii}iiaiaiy^^
THE LIBRARY
The Ontario Institute
for Studies in Education
Toronto, Canada
Axj^
THE EDUCATION OF
BEHAVIOUR
THE EDUCATION
OF BEHAVIOUR
A PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY
BY
L B. SAXBY, D.Sc.
SENIOR ASSISTANT IN THE WOMEN'S EDUCATION DEPARTMENT OF UNIVERSITY
COLLEGE CARDIFF
LONDON
UNIVERSITY OF LONDON PRESS, LTD.
18 WARWICK SQUARE, E.G. 4
1921
PREFACE
This little book is an attempt to bring our
present knowledge of psychology to bear on the
problems of behaviour which have to be faced by
those who are in charge of boys or girls during
their adolescence. It is intended primarily for the
student of education who wishes to teach young
people between the ages of nine and seventeen,
but it is hoped that it will also appeal to parents,
as well as to foremen and social workers who are
interested in the welfare of adolescents.
The reader who is acquainted with the literature
of the subject will see how much my exposition
owes to Professor McDougall's Social Psychology^
and to the standard books on analytical psychology.
At the same time, I have not scrupled to give my
own explanation of a psychological phenomenon
when I could not find one which seemed to satisfy
the conditions as I saw them. Since the book is
intended for the beginner, I have, however, con-
tented myself with stating where my view is not
the one which is generally accepted, giving the
reader at the same time such references as should
enable him to make up his own mind on the
V
vi PREFACE
subject. Lengthy discussions of different points
of view seem to me to be out of place in a book
of this kind.
The references which are given in the text will
indicate to which writers I am most indebted.
Unfortunately most of the book was written
before 1 had the opportunity of reading Professor
Nunn's Education^ its Data and First Principles and
Miss Alice Woods' Educational Experiments in
England. This accounts for the fact that the text
contains no references to these interesting books.
In conclusion, I should like to thank Miss E.
R. Murray for many helpful suggestions, and to
express my great obligation to Miss Alice Woods
and to Dr. Stanley Watkins for reading the whole
of the manuscript and for giving me much
valuable criticism and advice.
I. B. Saxby.
Cardiff,
December 1920.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I
I. INTRODUCTION ....
II. IMPULSES AND REFLEXES .
III. SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES .
IV. SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES .
V. NOTES ON THE FUNCTION OF THE
NERVOUS SYSTEM
VI. THE GROWTH AND CONTROL OF
HABITS
VII. EMOTION AND SYMPATHY
VIII. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER
IX. THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER
X. WORK AND PLAY
XI. CONCLUSION ....
BIBLIOGRAPHY ....
INDEX
II
26
54
98
no
136
164
180
205
231
242
243
VI 1
THE
EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
CHAPTER 1
INTRODUCTION
Education as preparation for efficient citizenship.
Citizenship as the joint product of natural power and
environment.
Stated in its most general terms, education
may be said to be preparation for adult life, and
this in turn may be described as preparation for
efficient citizenship. If we are now asked what
exactly is involved in this, we cannot do better
than turn to Herbert Spencer for an answer. In
his book entitled Education : Intellectual^ Moral
and Physical^ he points out that the ideal educa-
tion of a citizen should include : (i) that which
prepares for direct self-preservation ; (2) that
which prepares for indirect self-preservation ; (3)
that which prepares for parenthood ; (4) that
which prepares for citizenship in the narrower
sense of the word ; and (5) that which prepares
for the miscellaneous refinements of life.
B
2 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
To put the same thing in different words, an
efficient citizen should be ahk and willing: (i) to
keep himself fit and in good condition ; (2) to do
his share of the world's work ; (3) to give his
children the necessary care and training ; (4) to
do his duty by his neighbours ; and (5) to occupy
his leisure in such a way as to provide a desirable
outlet for those of his longings which would
otherwise remain unsatisfied.
It is the object of this book to give the student
some insight into the conditions under which he
is likely to succeed in turning his pupils into
efficient citizens in the sense just defined.
At the outset it is important to determine how
much responsibility rests on the child and how
much on the educator, for our whole attitude
towards the problem necessarily depends on our
answer to this question. If the child's mind is of
the nature of a waxen tablet on which we can
write what we like, then the environment must be
entirely responsible for the result ; if heredity
practically settles the child's future at the outset,
then it is useless to attempt any sort of interfer-
ence. As usual, the truth appears to lie some-
where between these two extremes. The natural
endowments of the child present as it were the
sum total of his possibilities, but it depends
on the environment how they develop, and
far more persons fail through lack of right
INTRODUCTION
environment in youth than through lack of inborn
ability.
In order to see how heredity and environment act
and react on each other, we shall begin with a
brief investigation into the origin of standards of
conduct and attainments. Superficial observation
may suggest that these two important " springs of
action " have come into existence in absolutely
different ways, for we can remember acquiring
most of our attainments by conscious efforts of
our own, whereas many of our standards of con-
duct seem so much part and parcel of ourselves
that we are sometimes tempted to think we must
have been born with them. However, further
reflection soon shows that both are really the joint
products of natural power and environment.
I will consider attainments first. The know-
ledge which a child acquires at school depends
partly on himself, but much more on the school.
He may, for instance, have only slight ability for
mathematics, and yet learn more than another with
greater natural talent, merely because he happens
to have a better teacher. Even exceptional ability
may never develop in an unfavourable environ-
ment, for we need opportunity to discover what
we can do, and we may exhaust ourselves in over-
coming real or imaginary obstacles when we have
discovered it.
In the sphere of conduct the conditions under
4 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
which a child grows up are even more important,
for the young child has no inborn ideas of right
or wrong, and has therefore to acquire them
through personal experience. It should be noted,
too, that this '* personal experience " is only his
own in a very limited sense. He can be allowed
to find out for himself that fire burns, but not
that certain berries are poisonous. In this and
many other cases his discovery is limited to the
fact that we approve or disapprove of certain acts,
and he has to take on trust that we know better
than he, or that the reasons which we choose to
give him are really correct. This is particularly
the case with conventions. Why, for instance,
should you say " Please " and " Thank you " at
every turn .'' It would puzzle the average adult
to give the child of three to five an answer that
would really convince him ; yet the child often
shows by the tone of his voice that he is anything
but satisfied. None the less, he usually acquiesces
in the end, partly no doubt because he is so
dependent on us, but perhaps mainly because he
is continually being made conscious of the superior
knowledge and power of his elders, and is there-
fore inclined to assume that they probably know
best in every case, however incomprehensible their
demands seem to be. Thus he gradually adopts
the standards of conduct which are accepted in his
environment.
INTRODUCTION
For most persons there comes, however, a time
— usually during adolescence — when they begin to
mix with others whose standards of conduct differ
more or less from their own, and whom they have
yet every reason to respect. Then one of two
things may happen : they may learn to close their
eyes to everything that threatens their peace of
mind ; but, failing that, they must modify their
views sufficiently to enable them to fit into the
old what they feel to be true in the new. Which-
ever path the adolescent chooses, he is now for
the first time actively affecting his standards of
conduct and his beliefs. It is, however, well to
bear in mind that most of us would grow up
without ever questioning the absolute finality of
what we had been taught as children, if we did not
come across others who have been taught to think
differently, and are therefore not prepared to
accept our point of view. Thus our"standards of
conduct seem to be derived almost entirely from
our environment. They are, however, not suffi-
cient to decide behaviour alone, for right action
involves a knowledge of what is right coupled
with the desire to act in accordance with that
knowledge, and it is possible to approve of a
certain course of action without experiencing the
least desire to adopt it. We have therefore still
to consider how far this desire is dependent on
the environment.
6 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
This problem will be considered in detail at
a later stage. Here it is sufficient to note that
our desire to control anti-social wishes springs in
the main from our desire to win the approval,
or at least to avoid the disapproval, of those
whose opinion we value for any reason. In
adult life, we may ignore the wishes of such
persons on occasion because we think that we
know the facts of the case better than they do,
because we imagine that we are sure not to be
found out, or because our desire is so great that
we cannot withstand it. During the early years
of life the first of these is rarely a cause of dis-
obedience, for a child is continually being made
aware of his own weakness and ignorance, and is
therefore not likely to question the opinion of his
elders. It should therefore be a comparatively
easy matter to teach children what is right and
what is wrong and to make them want to do
right. All that is needed is to win their love and
respect, then the rest should follow almost auto-
matically. Yet we fail again and again. What
is the cause .'' There is certainly no lack of good-
will on the part of the child, at any rate initially.
Those of us who know children intimately know
that they will try to do the most unreasonable things
in order to please those they love. Here is a case
in point. A little girl of five or six was travelling
with her grandmother from Cardiff to London.
INTRODUCTION
The grandmother told the child to " sit nice and
still," and then got out a paper and began to read
it. The little girl evidently tried to obey, but
she had been provided with neither picture-book
nor toy. Needless to say she began to fidget
before long. The grandmother asked her once
more to keep quiet ; then turned to her neigh-
bour and said : " I am always telling her to sit
still and she does try, but she finds it very hard
to remember." It was evident from the attitude
of the child that it had never struck her to
question the wisdom of her grandmother's de-
mands. She was merely trying to " remember,"
and possibly rather vexed with herself for forget-
ting. It must be said for the grandmother that
she was wiser than her words ; for when the
young fidget began again a few minutes later,
she simply cast her neighbour a glance which
said : ** You see, she has forgotten again," and
left the child to amuse herself in her own way
until she went to sleep through sheer boredom.
Here there was failure on the part of the child,
but not rebellion. The grandmother had suc-
ceeded in inculcating the desire to sit still, the
little girl was merely finding it difficult to obey.
She was not defying her grandmother in any
sense of the word.
At other times we have to deal with true
rebellion. The child disobeys us deliberately
8 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
when he cannot possibly have forgotten what we
told him to do. We tell him to weed the garden,
and he goes off to play with his companions ; we
tell him not to climb a certain tree and presently
find him ensconced on its topmost branch.
We may take it for granted that the young child
who disobeys us in this fashion does not do
so because he thinks that he is in the right and
that we are in the wrong. He does not as yet
question our right to lay down the law. His
choice lies between obedience with a good con-
science and disobedience with a bad conscience.
Yet he may disobey us all the same, and that
because the desire for approval is by no means
the only desire with which he is equipped.
Nature has provided the child with a large
number of impulses, or desires to act. There
is the impulse to find out about something new,
the impulse to try one's powers, and so forth.
All these impulses vary in strength, not only in
different children, but in the same child at different
times, and some chance occurrence may render
any one of them so strong that the child is
unable to resist it for the time being. The
result is disobedience. Under wise guidance such
disobedience will, however, only lead to a firm
determination not to fail again. It is only when
the adult demands too much, when failure suc-
ceeds failure, that the child presently decides that
INTRODUCTION
it is no good trying to be good, and that it is
less trouble to be naughty and take the con-
sequences. But even in such a case the young
child does not, as a rule, reject the standards
of his environment, for he is still convinced that
he is in the wrong. He merely decides that
these things are not for him, and thus loses
all desire to try to be "good."
The same applies, of course, to the acquisition
of knowledge. The child who finds the work
consistently too difficult, sooner or later gives up
attempting to attend in class, with the result that
he does not even learn the little that is within
the range of his ability. Under suitable tuition
such a child will often discover, to his own surprise
and delight, that there are things which interest
him and which he can do as well as another.
Then lessons become worth while, inattention
disappears, and he begins to work at least as
hard as his more gifted fellows.^
It follows from all this that the environment
(including therein both the persons and the things
with which the child comes into contact) is to a
large extent responsible for the ideals and attain-
ments of the child, but that it is not all-powerful.
You can take the horse to water, but you cannot
make it drink. So, too, you can give the child
1 I have been definitely told by such a child : "I was always
supposed to be hopelessly stupid."
lo THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
the opportunity to develop right ideals or to
acquire necessary knowledge and skill, but you
cannot force him to make the effort against his
will, nor to learn more than his natural ability
will allow him to learn. The environment of
any child represents as it were the sum total of
the possibilities that fate has provided for him.
If it includes a wise educator, one who knows
how to stimulate right desires in the child and
to make him want to control undesirable impulses,
his chances of success will be by so much the
greater. But in the end it is the child himself
who must acquire the knowledge and the ideals
which he will need if he is to become an efficient
citizen. He must be active, not passive ; an
individual who uses his environment to develop
his powers and organise the impulses with which
he is born, not a mere phonograph that will
reproduce faithfully whatever is said into it.
CHAPTER II
IMPULSES AND REFLEXES
A. Definition of Impulse as an Inborn Tendency to Seek a
Certain End in Certain Situations.
B. The Effect of Blocking the Usual Outlets of an Impulse.
C. The Relation of Emotion to Impulse.
D. Definition of Reflex as an Inborn Tendency to React in
one Specific Way to one Specific Stimulus.
E. The Relative Survival Value of Reflex and Impulse : —
(i) In a fixed environment, and (2) in a variable
environment.
We saw in the last chapter that the student of
human behaviour is primarily concerned with the
origin and growth of desires. It will, however,
be necessary to do some preliminary work before
we can understand the problems connected with
this subject. We shall, therefore, study impulses
and reflexes in this chapter, and return to the
psychology of desire at a later stage.
A. The Definition of Impulse
Impulses are many and varied in character. If
we think we are in danger, we want to run away ;
II
12 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
if we see something strange, but not too strange,
we like to examine it ; if we are faced with an
obstacle, we want to surmount it. All these desires
J are due to impulses, that is to say, to inborn
i tendencies to act in a certain way under certain
j conditions. It is characteristic of an impulse that
' it urges us to some mode of action which seems
for the time being absolutely obvious, though we
could often give no satisfactory reason for our
behaviour. Further, the true impulsive act is
always conscious. I may blink and breathe with-
out knowing it, but I do not run away unless I
am conscious of danger. It is convenient to use
the word perceive for being aware of an object,
no matter whether we hear it or see it, touch it
or smell it, etc., and to call the thing that has
been perceived in this way a percept. An impulse ■
is, therefore, an inborn desire to attain a certain
end in the presence of certain kinds of percepts.
It should, moreover, be observed that the actual
percept is not always necessary, at any rate in the
case of human beings. Thus the candidate for an
examination may be so afraid of failure that he
decides not to sit for it ; here it is not an accom-
plished fact, but the mere thought, " I shall not
pass," which is responsible for his action. The
actual percepts or ideas that are able to arouse a
particular impulse vary greatly from person to
person and from day to day, but it is none the
IMPULSES AND REFLEXES i-.
o
less possible to classify them. Thus the impulse
to avoid danger is roused by every percept which
suggests danger, but it depends on the previous
experience and knowledge of the individual
whether a particular percept does or does not
have that effect on a particular occasion. For
instance, the sound of an aeroplane normally
causes no more alarm than that of a passing
motor ; during the air raids it was, however,
impossible to hear it without experiencing at
least a momentary pang of fear.
Moreover, the means which are chosen to
attain the end of the impulse are also liable to
variation. It may be well to run away literally
if we wish to escape from danger, but it may be
safer to hide, or to tell a lie, or to ask for mercy.
So, too, we may examine a strange object our-
selves, or we may consult either a book or
another individual about it : whichever course
we adopt we are satisfying our impulse to
investigate.
In general there are a large number of per-
cepts that may arouse a given impulse and a
large number of acts through which any one
impulse may seek to attain its end. It will,
however, always be found, both in regard to the
different percepts and ideas and in regard to the
resulting acts, that they belong to definite classes
{e.g. things that are dangerous or methods of
14 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
escape), and that they owe their connection with
the impulse to the fact that they are, for the time
being, members of the corresponding class.
We may, therefore, define an impulse as
follows : An impulse is an inborn tendency to seek
a certain end in certain situations. (It makes us
want to avoid danger, to remove obstacles from
our path, etc.) // is roused by all percepts and
ideas which seem to the individual to suggest one of
these situations^ and it may seek to attain its end by
any of the means which he has learnt to use for that
purpose.
B. The Effect of Blocking the Usual Outlets of an
Impulse
When the usual outlets of an impulse are
blocked, one of two things may happen : the
individual in question may feel that it is hope-
less for him to try to get what he wants, or he
may think he can overcome the obstacle. In
the first case the nervous energy that has been
set free by the percept tends to be driven into
some unhealthy channel, such as worrying, fussing
or self-pity, all of which use up energy without
producing results of any value. In the second
case it is expended in attempts to attain the end
of the impulse by removing the obstacle. It
must not, of course, be imagined that the choice
of one or other of these alternatives necessarily
IMPULSES AND REFLEXES 15
involves deliberation. Often circumstances make
it obvious whether it is or is not worth while to
assert oneself : a child of four will fight another
child of his own age who tries to spoil his game,
but he will merely cry helplessly if a boy of
twelve chooses to bully him. If there is actual
danger to life and little chance of escape the
individual will, however, often fight, even though
he knows that his case is desperate. Thus the
criminal who is caught red-handed will at times
aggravate his off*ence by trying to kill his captors.
The weapons we use in the fight necessarily
depend on the obstacle we have to overcome.
Sometimes mere physical strength is all that is
required : we fight with the fist, the spear, or
some more modern weapon. But these are often
insufficient by themselves ; they may even be
useless. Suppose, for instance, that I want to
solve some mystery and find I cannot do it.
My curiosity may be too strong to leave me in
peace, my pride may be involved as well, so that
I am determined not to be beaten. In such a
case 1 begin to cudgel my brains. I bring all my
knowledge and all my power of synthesis and
analysis to bear upon my problem. I work at
it until I either solve the mystery or am forced
to give it up as a task beyond my powers. It
is worth while to notice the metaphors we use
in this connection. "To be beaten," and "to
1 6 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
cudgel," and to be "forced" to do a thing are
evidently all taken from the act of fighting. And
this is true to life ; the process does feel like a
fight whenever we are finding it difficult to solve
a problem, and most of us have reason to know
that defeat in such a case may mean a loss of self-
respect which is quite out of proportion to the
importance of the task in which we have failed.
We may, then, state generally that an obstacle
to the free functioning of any impulse normally pro-
duces an impulse to overcome that obstacle. It is
only when success appears to be out of the
question that the individual tends to give way
without a struggle. As for the weapons we use,
they naturally vary with the needs of the case
and with the means at our disposal. At different
times we may have recourse to our fists, or to our
powers of verbal expression, to an elaborate engine
of war, or to a fine scientific instrument, and our
use of any of these may be guided by a highly
trained or by an absolutely untrained mind.
C. The Relation of Emotion to Impulse
So far we have discussed impulse as though it
only involved the percept that sets it in motion
and the act by which it seeks to attain its end.
A moment's consideration will show that this
is not true to life. Take the case of a person
who is running away from a mad bull. He is
IMPULSES AND REFLEXES 17
obviously actuated by the desire to avoid danger,
and at first, while he is running at the top of his
speed, he is probably aware of little but the bull
behind him and the gate at the end of the field.
But suppose that the gate proves insurmount-
able, or that his strength fails him before he is
able to reach it. Then his original form of
reaction, that of running away, is checked, and
he is likely to experience an acute attack of fear,
unless an alternative form of activity happens to
present itself almost immediately. Similarly, the
person who is overcoming his opponent in a fight
is not likely to experience much anger, whereas
the one who is being worsted in the conflict, and
who is therefore not able to satisfy his impulse
to assert himself, will probably feel angry both
during and after the event. The reader will
easily collect other examples to the same effect.
We are thus led to conclude that an emotion tends
to be produced when more energy is set free by the |
percept than is used up in action. j
It is a matter of common knowledge that each
of the well-known emotions is a characteristic
phenomenon which only occurs in connection
with one particular impulse. The question thus
arises whether all impulses are liable to be
accompanied by specific feeling tones. The first
thing to observe in this connection is that
popular usage has at any rate not provided
1 8 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
them all with names for their feelin": tones. We
are, for instance, endowed with an impulse to
construct. It appears very early, in the young
child's love of making and building things, and
seems to persist through life if too much energy
is not absorbed in the mere struggle for existence.
We see signs of it in every well-kept suburb
garden, in the make-shifts that some of us like to
invent for our own use, and in the pleasure that
others take in designing or making their own
clothes. The impulse to construct is therefore a
fairly strong and a well-established impulse ; yet
popular usage provides no special name for any
feeling tone connected with it. We just say
that we enjoy making things, and do not
differentiate the special form of enjoyment any
further.
If there is, none the less, a special feeling tone,
we should become aware of it when we try to
recall our state of mind during the process of
constructing immediately after the impulsive
activity has come to an end. If we do this, we
shall, I think, find that the pleasure we take in
" making for the sake of making " has a special
flavour about it which differentiates it from all
other pleasures. Often, no doubt, the actual
pleasure we experience is mixed with others, such
as that derived from admiration, but at times
{e.g. when engaged in certain hobbies) it is
IMPULSES AND REFLEXES 19
difficult to account for our occupation in terms
of any impulse other than the impulse to con-
struct. Any one who has worked under such
conditions knows that the pleasure we experi-
ence on these occasions is, if anything, increased
by the absence of ulterior motives. It is a
characteristic experience, which belongs to the
same genus as the emotions, and it has only not
been differentiated from other forms of enjoy-
ment because it is so much less intense than
anger or fear. It seems probable that other
impulses, such as the impulse to collect, are also
accompanied by characteristic feeling tones when
more energy is being set free than can be used
in action, and that these, too, have not risen
to the dignity of a special name because they
are experienced in so slight a degree that they
do not attract the attention of the man in the
street.
D. Definition of Reflex
We saw above that neither the percepts which
rouse an impulse nor the acts by which it seeks to
attain its end are fixed at birth. If we find that
a certain percept is not followed by pain, we no
longer seek to avoid it ; if we fail to attain the
end of an impulse by one form of activity, we
are able to try another on the next occasion.
We have now to turn our attention to a form
20 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
of activity which is also inborn, but which differs
from the impulse in that it is fixed in every detail
at birth, and is therefore either not at all or only
indirectly under our control. We can make the
heart beat more quickly by running, but we
cannot change its rate by an act of will. We can
hold our breath for a while, but the strain soon
becomes too great for us. No amount of practice
will prevent our starting at an unexpected noise
or blinking when the wind blows dust into our
eyes. And there are countless movements going
on within us of which we do not even become
aware unless we happen to take up the study of
physiology.
All these forms of reaction may be classed
together for our purpose. Different as they are
in some respects, they all have the one point in
common, that they are fixed more or less com-
pletely at birth, and consequently either pre-
determined in every respect or only educable
within comparatively narrow limits. When a
form of behaviour is fixed in every respect it is
usually called a " reflex." A reflex may therefore
'" be defined as an inborn tendency to react in one specific
way to one specific stimulus or set of stimuli.
IMPULSES AND REFLEXES 21
E. The Relative Survival Value of Reflex and
Impulsive Activity
Of the two forms of activity, the reflex and the
impulsive, the reflex is undoubtedly the more
primitive, for it achieves its end without even
needing awareness on the part of the individual,
whereas the value of impulsive activity depends
on the power to learn from experience. The very
fact that it is fixed in every detail means that a
reflex ensures the well-being of the animal in the
environment in which it originated ; but it does
this at a great cost, for the very fact that all its
reactions are fixed at birth makes it impossible
for the reflex animal to adapt itself to a change in
its environment. Thus even a slight development
in power to learn from experience gives an animal
a tremendous advantage in the struggle for
existence. Such a development is, however, only
useful in the case of a particular reaction, if that
reaction is of such a nature that its survival value
is likely to vary with changes in the environ-
ment ; otherwise the reflex is really more service-
able just because it does not depend on the whim
of the individual. Accordingly the extent to
which a creature is left to learn from experience
increases greatly in the higher forms of life, but
at the same time adaptability is only developed
in any particular case in so far as the animal is
22 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
likely to be able to make use of it. The chicken's
breathing is reflex, and therefore uneducable. His
tendency to pick up caterpillars and worms is also
inborn, for he does it successfully at the first
attempt and feels impelled to do it when he has
had no opportunity of learning it from another
chicken. Yet this act is partially educable, for
the chicken can learn through experience that
certain yellow and black caterpillars are unpalat-
able, and therefore best left alone (Lloyd
Morgan, Comparative Psychology , p. 214).
In the human being all stages of development
can be observed. Blinking is an instance of pure
reflex activity, for it is quite uneducable. In
coughing there is a little control : if the stimulus
is not too strong, the individual can restrain his
tendency to cough until the irritation has passed
away. In talking we see a further development
of the power to adapt behaviour to the needs of
the environment, for there is only an inborn
tendency to produce sounds of some kind with
the vocal cords : the child who is born deaf does
not learn to speak because he does not hear
others speak, though he will, unknown to himself,
produce sounds under the influence of emotion.
Finally, true impulsive acts like fighting depend
entirely on the environment for the form they
take ; in these the individual is merely endowed
with the desire to attain certain ends in regard to
IMPULSES AND REFLEXES 23
certain situations, and is left to learn all else from
experience (cf. below). For our purpose there
will be no need to consider reactions which are
intermediate between the pure reflex and the true
impulsive act, for they affect our behaviour like
impulses in so far as they are educable, like reflexes
in so far as they are not educable. At times the
same end is attained by impulsive or by reflex
activity according to the circumstances of the case.
Thus our personal safety is secured not only by
the impulse to avoid danger, but also by the
reflexes which make us start at a sudden noise
and look round at a moving object. It is interest-
ing to note that only reactions which are always
useful are reflex in such a case.
The reader may think that there are certain
specific reactions connected with every impulse :
the tendency to use one's limbs with the impulse
to fight, the tendency to run away with the
impulse to avoid danger. It can, however, be
shown that this assertion is at least open to doubt.
During the first months of his life the baby
necessarily learns that some things move if he
presses against them, with the result that he
presently tries to push away the people and the
things which he does not want. As he grows
older the push increases in force. Sooner or later
it is directed against his equals, and thus produces
a counter-push. Then the result is a fight. The
24 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
tendency to run away from danger is probably
also based on early experience. As soon as the
baby becomes aware of his mother, he must realise
her as the person who removes pain and discom-
fort. At first he can only cry when he wants
her and must wait until she chooses to attend to
him, but as soon as he has learnt to run he can go
to her, if she does not come at his call. Then for
some time he runs to her whenever he is frightened.
However, there comes a day when he feels in
need of protection and fails to find either his
mother or a substitute for her. On such an
occasion he is likely to discover that the running
away was useful in itself, and from that it is only
a small step to adopt running away as a mode of
avoiding danger. Other cases could be worked
out on similar lines. Thus there seems to be no
need to assume that any of the specific means of
attaining the end are innate in the case of an
impulse. In other words, an impulse seems to be
designed to secure the maximum of adaptability
by leaving it to experience to teach the form of
reaction that is most suited to different situations.
We shall see later that at any rate two of the
impulses are provided with reflexes which prepare
the body for the extra strain which is likely to be
thrown upon it when the safety of the individual
is endangered. These are, however, of use in
every situation of this nature, and therefore in no
IMPULSES AND REFLEXES 25
way concerned with the special means by which
the individual seeks to attain the end of the
impulse.^
^ It is usual to class certain innate tendencies together as
" instincts." There is, however, so much diversity of opinion
among psychologists with regard to the definition of" instinct "
that the writer prefers to do without the term altogether.
CHAPTER III
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES
(i) The Impulse to Avoid Danger.
(2) The Impulse to Assert Oneself.
(3) The Impulse to Fight.
(4) The Impulse to Seek a Mate.
(5) The Impulse to Protect the Weak.
(6) The Impulse to Investigate.
(7) The Impulse to Collect.
(8) The Impulse to Construct.
If we examine the impulses with which we are
endowed, we find that many of them are con-
nected directly with self-preservation. We feel
impelled to take food when hungry, to fight
those who try to rob us, to avoid danger and so
forth. There are, however, other impulses which
do not act in the same way. The mother's
impulse to care for her offspring (or the parental
impulse, as it is usually called) is a case in point.
If it is strong, it will make the mother starve
herself or fight against impossible odds, rather
than let her young ones suffer. If it is weak, she
will abandon them in the hour of danger and thus
26
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 27
save herself at their expense. Hence the parental
impulse may make for race preservation at the
expense of self-preservation. As will be seen in
the course of this chapter, there are other impulses
which seem to resemble it in this respect. In
short, the life of every individual seems to be
governed by two main forces : one which urges
him to keep himself alive and well and another
which urges him to act for the welfare of his race.
Moreover, the various reflexes and impulses seem
to be nothing more than so many tools which
these primary forces have evolved for themselves
in the course of the struggle for existence.
Although every impulse owes its existence to
its survival value, it must not, of course, be
imagined that the individual is necessarily, or even
frequently, conscious of the forces that are at work
in any particular case. Among all animals, the
individual who loses his desire for food normally
starves to death ; among the higher animals any
species which lost the parental impulse would
rapidly cease to exist. None the less, the average
individual never gives these matters a thought.
Unless we are in poor health, we eat because we
want to eat, not because it is good for us, and
the normal mother looks after her child because
Nature makes her feel that it is the one thing she
wants to do, not because she is interested in, or
has even thought about, the welfare of the race.
2 8 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
It is only reflection on what we see around us that
teaches us that reflexes and impulses must have
been evolved in the service of self-preservation
and race preservation.
The rest of this chapter will be concerned with
the study of such impulses as are of importance
to the educator. The reader will find that some
of these are obviously self-preservative, whereas
others are as obviously race preservative. Some,
such as the impulse to investigate, might, how-
ever, fall equally well under either head, and we
do not as yet know enough about impulse to
classify these with any certainty. It has, there-
fore, seemed better not to attempt to arrange the
impulses in any particular order.
(i) The Impulse to Avoid Danger
Strong within us all is the impulse to avoid
danger and pain. If the reader doubts this, he is
advised to try to prick himself with a needle so
as to draw blood. He will be surprised to find
how much resistance he will have to overcome in
order to inflict on himself so small an injury. It
is true that the more intelligent among us do at
times expose ourselves to avoidable pain, but it
will be found on inquiry that our object is then
merely to save ourselves more intense pain in the
future. Such, for example, is our reason for
submitting to the ministration of the dentist and
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 29
for working at a compulsory examination subject
for which we have neither taste nor talent. Still
occasionally the impulse to avoid pain does appear
to be truly in abeyance for the time being ; thus
the soldier will risk his life to save a wounded
comrade and the mother will starve herself to
have enough food for her child. All the same,
it must not be imagined that either the soldier or
the mother is therefore free from the capacity to
fear pain. They are temporarily unaware of, or
unconcerned about, their personal needs, because
another stronger impulse is absorbing all their
energy. Once that is satisfied, they will be found
to be as anxious as their neighbours to escape
avoidable pain and danger. The impulse to avoid
danger and pain, and the accompanying emotion
of fear, are clearly important factors in the make-
up of every individual. Their biological value is
too obvious to need discussion. No doubt, some
are frightened more easily than others, but no
normal person is entirely free from the tendency
to feel afraid.
It is interesting to speculate whether any
percepts produce fear innately, or whether all
our particular fears are due to experience. (As
pointed out above, the start at a sudden noise is
of the nature of a reflex, because uneducable.)
Fear of strangers is very common as soon as a
baby begins to distinguish the members of the
30 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
household from other people, fear of the dark
often seems to develop, in spite of all precautions,
as soon as the imagination begins to become
active ; but whether these are not both merely
special cases of the fear of the unknown, is at least
open to question. Finally, fear of the unknown
may well be the product of experience combined
with the tendency to generalise which is so
characteristic of children. Hence it would seem
that a child is born with no special fears, but
learns to fear things which have actually produced
pain or which seem to him to belong to the same
class as these.
However this may be, the child has undoubtedly
acquired a number of special fears by the time he
goes to school. Since they are caused by the
environment, these fears will, of course, vary from
child to child and from place to place. The
country child is more likely to be afraid of tramps,
the town child of burglars ; both may be afraid of
punishment, of being bullied by certain other
children, or of witches and hobgoblins.
Moreover, it is not only the percepts which
develop under the pressure of the environment.
The same applies to the methods by which the
child tries to escape from pain and danger.
Thus experience will have taught one that the
best way to escape punishment is to tell a lie,
another will have found it more effective to burst
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 31
into tears, another to coax, and here and there a
lucky child may have discovered that if only he
owns up manfully, the adult will understand and
will not inflict some arbitrary punishment which
is severe enough to produce real fear.
The education that was begun at home is
now supplemented at school. As his experience
increases, the child begins to lose or modify some
fears and to develop others, and again it depends
on his environment whether he learns to be afraid
of the right things. Foolhardiness may be taken
as a case in point. The foolhardy boy seems to
expose himself to serious danger for the mere joy
of trying his powers, with no thought of what
would happen to him if he made a false step. In
the young child this tendency is often more
apparent than real, for he does not yet know what
is dangerous. Hence he grows more careful as
his experience becomes wider. He will, of course,
continue to do things that involve a certain
amount of risk, for a slight degree of fear adds to
the spice of life ; but he will be careful to avoid
anything that is likely to do him serious harm.
Occasionally, however, we come across an ado-
lescent whose exploits can only be described as
foolhardy : it seems as though he had no fear, no
idea of self-preservation. If we watch such a one
closely, we shall find that his acts are done in a
way which is calculated to attract the attention of
32 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
others. There must be some admiring school-
fellows who will see him accomplish his feat or at
least hear about it, or, failing that, an adult who
will scold him for it. In other words, his fool-
hardiness is due to his desire to attract notice, and
it is therefore the environment that is to blame
for it.
Modern psychology has proved conclusively
that an impulse cannot be killed. All that can be
done is to divert its energy into different channels.
A boy may turn to foolhardiness because he
cannot satisfy his desire to assert himself in any
other way. This desire is in itself normal and
healthy. All it needs is a suitable outlet. If
such a boy is, therefore, made to feel that he
cannot attain his end by foolhardiness, and if he
is at the same time provided with suitable means
of satisfying his sense of his own importance, he
will readily turn his energy into more profitable
channels.
(2) The Impulse to Assert Oneself
The impulse to insist upon one's rights is
evidently as important to self-preservation as the
impulse to avoid danger. In a primitive com-
munity, at any rate, the individual who is not
prepared to stand up for himself is likely to be
deprived of anything which he has and which his
fellows happen to covet, and even if he grows
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 33
up in a community where this is not the case, he
will be at a serious disadvantage if his desire for
self-preservation is not of normal strength, for the
wish to prove ourselves as good as our neighbours
makes us try our powers both on persons and on
things. Thus we learn our limitations, thus too we
are first impelled to acquire the skill or the know-
ledge which seems to give others an advantage
over us, but which is not in itself sufficiently
strange to arouse our curiosity.
It has often been observed that a child tends to
be a thorough-going egotist from the age of four
or five to that of ten or eleven. If we listen to
his talk we find that he is at all times occupied
with himself. His conversation is full of 7, Me
and My. If there is something good to be had,
he wants it all, and finds it hard to believe that his
younger brother really has as good a right to it as
he. Yet that same child could be charmingly
unselfish at the age of eighteen months or two
years. Then he would, at times, be quite pleased
to see his brother eat a piece of chocolate, and
would display no desire to have it himself. Now
he would consider such an arrangement most
unjust. It may almost seem as though some-
thing had been lost between the ages of two and
four. As a matter of fact, just the reverse is the
case. The child of two is sometimes unselfish
because he has not yet fully realised himself as
34 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
an Individual. In so far as he has realised him-
self, he will be found to be at least as selfish as
the child of five.
The contrast between self and non-self is
acquired gradually through experience. The first
glimmerings of it must arise in the mind of the
tiny baby when he discovers that his toes are his
own in a sense in which his bottle and his nurse
are not. As he grows older the child gets an
idea of himself as a person who can walk, who can
ask for what he wants, who is clever or stupid,
good or naughty, as the case may be. Moreover,
whatever his opinion of himself, he is at this stage
primarily interested in himself. And it is good
that it should be so. He must understand him-
self at least superficially before he can attempt to
understand others, and he must have had struggles
of his own before he can sympathise with their
difficulties.
At times he may become unpleasantly self-
assertive, but that is entirely the fault of the
environment. To take a case in point. A very
bright little girl of six was in the upper transition
class of a kindergarten, but was considered too
young to be moved to the first form. She began
to rule the roost with a vengeance. Every child in
the class had to obey her. There was no peace if
she was not the leader in every game. Finally the
school authorities were persuaded to put her into
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 25
the first form in spite of her youth. There was a
change almost alarming in its suddenness. Our
young mischief-maker became docile and amenable,
ready to take any part that was assigned to her by
the others in their free play. If we provide the right
companions and the right standards, the child will
never have the opportunity to think himself
abnormally clever, appreciation will only spur him
on to further effort, and his very self-assertion
can be used to teach him a certain amount of
consideration for others.
As the child approaches adolescence he becomes
more sensitive to public opinion. If the environ-
ment is favourable, he therefore learns not to be
too obviously self-assertive. This does not mean
that his interest in himself becomes less : that
remains throughout life one of the primary forces
which urge us to make the best of ourselves.
All that happens is that the small displays of
power which please the young child are no longer
good enough for us as we grow older. We need
something more : things that may take us years
to achieve, that may mean months of uncongenial
work, but that are intended to prove to ourselves
and to others that we are persons of some conse-
quence. And if an individual fails to discover an
outlet of this kind, we find him seeking one in
acts of petty tyranny, in foolhardiness, in hare-
brained schemes that would not stand ten minutes'
36 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
unprejudiced criticism, or in some form of un-
healthy suppression, such as abnormal sensitiveness
to the opinion of others.
(3) The Impulse to Fight
Closely allied to the impulse to assert oneself
is the impulse to fight. If our opponent refuses
to give way, and if he is not strong enough to
arouse our fears, then our self-assertion impels
us to fight him. As was pointed out in Chapter
II, the obstruction of any impulse may make us
fight, but probably self-assertion is roused when-
ever the free functioning of an impulse is checked
by a preventible cause, so that it is more correct
to say that self-assertion is the immediate cause of
pugnacity. Beyond this, it is at this stage un-
necessary to add anything to what was said in that
chapter.
(4) The Impulse to Seek a Mate
The mating impulse, the impulse which drives
each fully developed individual to seek a mate, is
undoubtedly the most primitive of all race-pre-
servative impulses. Only among the lowliest
organisms is there as yet no need for it. Thus
the microscopic amoeba simply divides into two
equal halves when it has grown to a certain size.
Each of these halves then continues its indepen-
dent life, and grows on until it in turn has reached
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 37
its limit of growth and divides. In other simple
forms of life the young individual grows on the
parent until big enough to shift for itself. In
others he begins life as a single cell or spore. In
all these cases a single parent is sufficient to
produce the new individual.
Very early in the story of life Nature seems,
however, to have discovered that better results
are obtained by making the production of the
new individual depend on the collaboration of two
parents, and gradually these two parents have
become differentiated into what we know now as
male and female.
Along with this differentiation of function there
must have developed an impulse to drive the two
sexes to seek each other, since a species would
necessarily become extinct if it lost the power
of individual propagation without acquiring this
impulse. The mating impulse is, therefore, one
of the most ancient and well-established of our
impulses. It may perhaps be worth while to
insist once more that there is no thought of race
preservation, even in the minds of human beings,
when the impulse functions normally. The indi-
vidual experiences nothing beyond a more or less
intense longing for some member of the opposite
sex, and race preservation is about the last explana-
tion he would give, if called upon to account for
this longing.
38 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
To sum up, natural selection, acting through
untold ages, has caused the mating impulse to
become one of the strongest tendencies with which
we are endowed. In its pure form it simply
drives each individual to find a mate to his liking
without further considerations of any kind.
The stronger an impulse, the more difficult it
is to learn to control it wisely, and it is clearly
a condition of community life that the mating
impulse should be held in check. One would,
therefore, expect parents and teachers to give
much thought to this difficult subject, but as a
matter of fact it is one of the things that both
home and school seem to think safe to leave to
chance.
It is difficult to say at what age the child would
become aware of the impulse of his own accord,
because the environment does so much to afFect
its development. Children watch their elders
much more closely than these always realise. In
some surroundings children of six or eight may
discover that it is " grown up " to be more
especially interested in members of the opposite
sex ; in others they may as readily learn that it is
in some way wrong to do so. The one course is
as harmful as the other. The former stimulates
the impulse unnecessarily, the latter encourages
repression and thus exposes the child to the risk
of some form of abnormal development. With a
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 39
few notable exceptions, our schools usually err
on the side of repression, and thereby tend to
stimulate the very thing they are trying to
prevent.
Unless there is plenty of opportunity for inter-
course at home, the average schoolboy and school-
girl are each somewhat of a mystery to the other.
Besides the unknown is always more interesting
than the known, since it stimulates the impulse to
investigate, and the slight spice of danger that is
involved in disobeying the behests of elders
necessarily adds to the attraction in many cases.
Taking it all in all, it is wonderful that more
harm is not done.
If the school is to do its duty by the community,
it will evidently have to teach its pupils to control
this vital impulse without repressing it. This
will be an extremely difficult task so long as the
sexes are kept apart at school, for such a line of
action can only encourage repression in some
pupils and lead to underhand behaviour in others.
Probably the only way to prevent either of these
alternatives is to establish a system of co-education
schools in which boys and girls can learn to meet
each other naturally on an equal footing. It is,
of course, essential that such schools should be
staffed with men and women who are alive to the
importance of their task and able to give the right
kind of guidance at the right moment ; but if
40 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
these are secured, the vast majority of the pupils
who attend such schools would undoubtedly
develop into individuals who have learnt self-
control without repression.
We said above that the average school at
present leaves the education of the mating impulse
to chance. It may be objected to this that definite
attempts have been made to give boys and girls sex
instruction at school, and that teachers have even
been given the opportunity of acquiring such know-
ledge as will enable them to give this instruction
effectively. Now there can be no doubt that all
boys and girls should have instruction in this
matter before they are expected to be responsible
for their own actions, but no one who has really
grasped what is meant by impulse will imagine
that such instruction will by itself ensure self-
control. Knowledge is needed to satisfy the
impulse to investigate which is aroused by the
mystery which surrounds the origin of children,
and is further stimulated by the unwillingness of
the average adult to give the young inquirer
satisfactory answers to his questions. When the
child finds that the ordinary channels of informa-
tion are closed against him, self-assertion tends to
be roused as well, with the result that he tries
other means of solving his problem. In this way
the child runs the risk of obtaining his informa-
tion in such a form that it develops in him fixed
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 41
likes and dislikes which may work serious harm
at a later stage. There can, therefore, be no
doubt that suitable sex instruction has its place in
the education of the individual.
Whether it is wise to give this instruction to
large classes of adolescents as part of the ordinary-
curriculum is another matter. It must be borne
in mind that home training teaches the average
child to think of everything connected with sex as
secret and mysterious : it is a thing " nice " people
do not talk about in public. At the age of twelve
or thirteen this idea has become part of the mental
equipment of the boy or girl, and the teacher who
is willing to discuss this tabooed subject in class is
therefore Hkely to rouse resentment. Ideally, the
instruction should undoubtedly be given by the
parent, who should answer questions simply and
truthfully as they arise. In this way every child
would know all that is essential long before he
reaches the difficult years of adolescence. Where
the parents shirk their duty, the school has of
necessity to step in. It might, however, be argued
to some effect that it would be better for the school
to follow the example of the parents in this instance,
until it has learnt to provide something more
adequate than wholesale class instruction.
We see, then, that suitable sex instruction is
essential to satisfy the impulse to investigate and
to ensure the right attitude towards the subject.
42 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
Beyond this, the function of the environment is
largely that of stimulating the right ideals and of
providing plenty of outlets for superfluous nervous
energy. The full bearing of this will be seen
more clearly after reading the chapter on Senti-
ments and Complexes.
(5) The Impulse to Protect the Weak
In its primitive form the parental impulse may
only have prompted the mother to look after
her own children. Under the influence of our
gregarious habits and our growing imagination,
the percepts that waken it have, however,
increased in number, until to-day the fact that a
person is weaker or younger than ourselves is
as a rule quite sufficient to make us wish to
help him, even though that person be a perfect
stranger to us. The more dependent an in-
dividual is upon us, the more likely are we to
feel for him an affection similar to that which the
mother feels for her child. In order to emphasise
this we shall therefore refer to the tendency as
the impulse to protect the weak, or the " protective
impulse."
It is difficult to say at what age this impulse
begins to develop in children, because it is often
impossible to judge how much of what we observe
is due to imitation, how much to self-assertion,
and how much to a true impulse to look after
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 43
some one younger or weaker. Occasionally, how-
ever, we come across cases which can hardly be
explained in any other way. Thus a child of five
will at times be wonderfully patient in playing
with a baby who is just old enough to be a
nuisance rather than a help in his games. Thus,
too, children's play with their dolls or teddy bears
is often too realistic to be due to mere imitation.
The healthy development of the protective
impulse is evidently of as great importance to the
community as that of the mating impulse, yet it
receives almost as little attention after the first
few years of school life.
In a good kindergarten children soon discover
the pleasure of helping and looking after others,
for the older children are encouraged to help
the younger ones in various ways, and each class
has pets and animals for whose welfare it is held
responsible. This training has the further advan-
tage of teaching the children that the protective
impulse is not one which they can indulge
capriciously, for the child or pet who has been
entrusted to their care is liable to suffer in a way
which they can appreciate, if it does not receive
its fair share of attention. Thus they get the
first inkling of the fact that we have to consider
the needs of others at least as much as our own
desires when we follow the promptings of this
impulse.
44 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
It is obviously of great importance to the
community that this attitude of mind should be
encouraged in every possible way and it is there-
fore the business of the school to provide the
child with suitable experience. This could be
done quite easily in connection with children's
desire to help each other in their lessons, if they
were taught that it is right to help so long as they
give real help, that is to say, help which makes
the other child able to tackle his own difficulties
with greater success on the next occasion. In a
school which has succeeded in establishing the
right attitude towards work, the older children
would teach each other this lesson without aid
from the teachers, for the would-be helper would
find the wrong kind of help rejected with scorn,
and would thus be forced either to abandon the
task or to give help which is worth having.
Training of this kind, especially if supplemented
by similar training at home, should produce an
individual who is at least desirous of giving the
right kind of aid when need arises, and who is
able both to give it without any undue feeling of
superiority and to receive it without loss of self-
respect. The giving of help to those whom we
consider our social inferiors raises further diffi-
culties. It will, however, be more convenient to
study these in connection with sympathy and pity
in the chapter on emotion.
■f
I
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 45
In conclusion, it may be worth while to warn
the reader that the protective impulse is very
dependent on the environment for the "inlets"
and " outlets " it acquires, because acts that were
originally prompted by it may easily be repeated
to satisfy the love of self. Thus children who
are continually helping others without receiving
similar help themselves and children who give
away their toys in the sure knowledge that they
will be replaced in the immediate future are
practically being taught to use helping and giving
as outlets for self-assertiveness. If this attitude of
mind becomes fixed, such children are likely to
grow into individuals who are more interested in
the publicity than in the value of their help. It
is, of course, not to be expected that an act of help
should be free from every tinge of self-assertion,
since any such act necessarily gives us a feeling of
power and thus reacts on our love of self. What
is wanted is that the act should be due primarily
to the desire to help and only secondarily and in a
minor degree to the love of self.
(6) The Impulse to Investigate
Things which are strange or new arouse in us
the desire to find out more about them, unless
they are either of a nature to cause fear or so
much outside the sphere of our interests — whether
permanent or temporary — that they do not attract
46 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
our attention at all. Thus a sudden fall in the
barometer is likely to stimulate the curiosity of
the budding meteorologist, to whom it means a
chance of putting his knowledge to the test,
whereas it may rouse fear in the sailor, who thinks
that it forbodes an exceptionally severe gale, and
may leave a third person quite indifferent, either
because he does not understand barometers, or
because the recorded fall only suggests the
possibility of a heavy shower at a time when the
state of the weather is of no interest to him.
The case with which we are concerned in this
section is the first, namely, that in which there
is just enough knowledge to rouse the desire
for more, and no occasion to experience fear.
It is sometimes said that the young child is
more curious than the adult, but this is hardly a
correct statement of the case. The young child
comes across so many things that arc new to him
that he is continually having experiences which
puzzle him. He is, however, satisfied with very
superficial answers to his queries : the child of two
usually only wants the name of an object : this is
a book, that a doll. A little later he begins to ask,
what is this for ? why is that .'' but very simple
answers are still sufl^cient ; a child of four will for
instance be quite satisfied, if he is told *' because the
sun has gone down," in answer to the question
"why is it getting dark ?" This superficial curiosity
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 47
must of necessity decrease as the child's knowledge
of his environment increases ; on the other hand,
such questions as he asks tend to become more
searching, for every explanation itself suggests a
further problem : thus, the child who knows that
the " sun goes down " at night will presently begin
to wonder why it goes, or where it goes. How a
child's desire for knowledge develops at this stage
depends largely on his environment, for he is still
absolutely dependent on others for answers to
his problems. If he is made to feel that it is
" naughty " to worry his elders with questions, or
if he is given explanations which he himself knows
to be inadequate or incorrect, he is likely to give
up his attempts in despair, and turn his attention
to something else. (Cf. account of "Anna" in
Chapter V, p. 84.)
In the average environment the people on
whom the child depends for his knowledge will
answer some questions more readily than others,
with the result that he gets to know more about
certain classes of things and therefore presently
becomes more interested in them, though the
others still present numerous problems which he
would gladly tackle, if he had the chance. At
the age of ten or eleven many an intelligent child
wonders whether he will ever get like those dull
adults who seem to be quite satisfied to go
through the world without understanding half
48 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
the interesting things which are going on around
them. By the time he is eighteen he has, how-
ever, usually learnt the necessity of confining his
investigations to a few problems, if he has not,
indeed, given them up altogether as the result
of lack of opportunity or lack of time. Adoles-
cence is thus the period during which the im-
pulse to investigate is normally driven into more
or less fixed channels, with the result that the
youth's superficial interest in all kinds of things
decreases while his interest in a few special pur-
suits becomes greater and deeper. These pursuits
need not, of course, be utilitarian in any sense
of the word. When the impulse to investigate
is at work by itself, we want to find out a thing
merely in order to know more about it, and are
not concerned with the material gain or loss which
such knowledge may involve.
Under favourable circumstances the impulse
will drive us to intellectual efforts throughout life.
As things are at present, economic conditions
unfortunately often cause it to deteriorate during
later adolescence, for monotony of life tends to
deprive the individual of the necessary stimulus
and too long hours at mechanical work leave him
no energy for strenuous mental effort in his
leisure moments. Thus, many a bright, promising
youth finds after some years of factory life that
his neighbours' affairs and sensational stories give
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 49
him all the mental food he needs. Yet it is of
the greatest social importance that the impulse
should be encouraged in any one who has enough
ability to turn it to good account, for we owe
most of our inventions and discoveries to it.
The desire to investigate is, moreover, the only
force which makes us want to find out things
that are of no immediate use to us by urging us
to work at our problems for the sheer love of
the work. Thanks to it, men will spend their
lives in investigations which seem to lead nowhere
so far as practical applications are concerned until
the world is suddenly startled by a discovery of
such obvious practical value as for instance that
of X-ray photography.
On the whole, the impulse to investigate is
probably of greater value to the group than to
the individual ; in primitive life it must indeed
often have led the unwary investigator to his own
destruction. His group would, however, receive
benefit from his work whether he succeeded or
failed, for his success would increase their know-
ledge or power, whereas his failure would, at least,
prevent those who were present from making the
same mistake. Under modern conditions the risk
to the individual is not so great, but it is, of
course, a common thing for the inventor of a
really valuable mechanism to reap little or no
material benefit from his work.
so THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
(7) The Impulse to Collect
Every one who has dealt with young children
knows that they go through a stage when they
seem to enjoy collecting for its own sake. It
may be that we have here the stirring of an
ancient impulse similar to that which makes the
squirrel collect its store of nuts. It has, however,
become a true impulse in human beings, for it
depends entirely on his environment and on his
more or less fixed interests what a particular
individual happens to collect. At five years of age
town children are usually satisfied with tramway
tickets or cigarette cards, later most boys at any
rate turn to stamps, later still rare flowers or
fossils may have their turn. During adolescence
the individual grows too self-conscious to remain
satisfied with purposeless accumulations of odds
and ends, and the things he collects {e.g. botany
specimens) have, therefore, to be of some value to
him, that is to say, they have to satisfy his self-
assertion or his desire to know as well as his
impulse to collect ; but in this modified form the
impulse stays with us throughout life ; it makes
some amass property, others books, others china,
etc. As in the case of the child, what we collect
depends on our interests and on our opportu-
nities ; but there are very few individuals who
are not at least trying to satisfy this impulse in
some way or other.
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES 51
(8) The Impulse to Construct
Another impulse which is of great importance
to the educator is the impulse to construct or
make. In its pure form this impulse simply
urges us to be making, without any regard for
the value of the object we produce. The joy
lies in the making as such ; once the deed is
done it only continues to give us pleasure in so
far as it satisfies some other desire.
We have reason to believe that the impulse to
construct develops at a very early age. Thus the
way in which some babies invent a language of
their own, instead of adopting that of their en-
vironment, suggests that it may already be active
at the age of twelve to eighteen months, though
the child has as yet too little control over his
environment to do much to satisfy it. Every
one who has watched babies must have observed
that the child sets to work on his environment as
soon as he has the necessary control over his
muscles. At first he is only investigating and
experimenting. At this stage he feels, tastes and
pulls to pieces everything that comes within his
reach and thus gets his first knowledge of the
things around him. By the age of two and a half
he has, however, usually begun to make as well
as destroy, though it is at times difficult to say
whether it is the making or the experimenting
which he is enjoying. A child will, for instance.
52 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
build up a heap of bricks again and again, only
to throw them down with a bang. Then gradu-
ally, as his knowledge of his little world increases,
he spends more and more time in constructing.
At first bricks, clay, sand and coloured chalks are
his best material, but as his control over his
muscles increases he is ready to learn the use of
a hammer, saw, needle, etc., and thus becomes
able to handle less tractable material. At the age
of six or seven he begins to construct in the
realm of ideas as well, making up stories of his
own or inventing imaginative games. Later, he
may try inventing puzzles or setting himself
problems for his own solution ; thus a child of
eight who had exceptional facility for number
work set himself to find out exactly how many
hours he had lived. How a particular child
develops must, of course, depend partly on his
natural ability and partly on his environment, but
no normal child is without the impulse to make,
and it is therefore important to see that he learns
to use it to his advantage.
Like the impulse to investigate, the impulse to
construct tends to remain active in its pure form
throughout life. Any one who doubts this should
watch parents helping children to make sand
castles or fly kites or build and sail toy boats.
It is true that the parents begin in order to please
the children, but they often get so interested in
SOME IMPORTANT IMPULSES ^3
their task that they are seriously annoyed, if the
young helper does something which spoils their
work, even though it obviously adds to his
enjoyment to see whether he cannot do this bit
by himself.
The strength and permanence of the impulse to
construct and the impulse to investigate should be
borne in mind by all educators. Anything which
involves making always attracts children of all ages,
and if it necessitates finding out how to make
as a preliminary stage, it is even more popular,
so long as the task is not too difficult and there
are no artificial penalties attached to failure and
waste of material. As in every other case, so here
again, success feeds the love of self, but it is the fault
of the environment if it does this unduly. Under
favourable conditions the effects of such training
are to help the pupil to find his level, to teach
him to think for himself to the best of his ability,
and hence to divert his love of making into
channels in which he is likely to achieve some-
thing. In this way his training during childhood
and adolescence may enable the individual to
produce work of value to himself and to his com-
munity ; but even if it Is not able to achieve this,
it will at any rate add greatly to his power of
enjoying life, by providing him with hobbies which
make it possible for him to satisfy the ever-active
impulse to construct.
CHAPTER IV
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES
A. The Sentiment as a Centre of Potential Activity.
B. The Origin and Growth of Sentiments : —
(i) The part played by impulsive activity.
(2) The part played by the environment.
The influence of the parent.
The influence of the community.
The meaning and function of hero worship.
(3) The part played by the " self."
C. The Effect of Sentiments on Habit and Judgment.
D. Mind-Tunnelling by the Method of Free Associations: —
(i) Description of the method.
(2) Repressed complexes and their effect on behaviour.
(3) The value of mind-tunnelling in connection with
repressed complexes.
E. Gregariousness as a Centre of Potential Activity: —
(i) The psychology of gregariousness.
(2) The relation of gregariousness to love of approval,
suggestion and imitation.
A. The Sentiment as a Centre of Potential Activity
It has been shown in the preceding chapters
that all voluntary action is primarily due to
impulse. But impulse is always momentary.
In so far as life is governed by it, each moment
54
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES S5
is sufficient unto itself, and it is therefore im-
possible to regulate action with regard to future
ends or to feel regret for past mistakes. Many
animals never rise above this level ; in human
beings it is, however, merely a stage of develop-
ment that is passed through during the first
months of life. As is well known, the attention
of a baby is easily attracted now to this, now to
that ; his desires are merely momentary, and a
thing need only disappear in order to be for-
gotten. But even the child of two is not so
easily satisfied in regard to things he really knows,
such as his favourite doll or the dog who jumped
at him, for he is beginning to develop fixed likes
and dislikes, or ^^ seniimenis^''' as they are called
technically. (For definition of sentiment, see
p. 58.)
There is no limit to the persons, animals or
things for whom we can form sentiments, since
there is no limit to the objects of thought which
we can learn to like or dislike. Popular usage
has provided us with special names for certain
types. Thus we call the occupations we like our
interests or hobbies, and the standards of behaviour
of which we approve our principles, or, if difficult
to realise in practice, our ideals. In the case of
persons, we can even distinguish between various
grades of likes and dislikes, for we talk of friends,
enemies and " mere acquaintances."
56 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
It will be evident that sentiments are of the
greatest importance in the development of the
individual. In so far as he has formed fixed
likes and dislikes, he will necessarily have fixed
desires, and in so far as he has fixed desires, he
will act consistently, and will therefore attain far
more than while entirely under the sway of
impulse. An example may make this clear.
The child of three or four who is left to his
own devices with a mechanical toy usually tries
to pull it to pieces in order to find out what
makes it go, but once he has broken it he quickly
loses all interest in it, for the separate parts mean
nothing to him. The boy of nine or ten who is
interested in mechanisms also likes to pull such
a toy to pieces, but he will occupy himself with it
for a much longer time, because he will have a
certain amount of knowledge which he can bring
to bear on the problems it presents. His interest
in mechanisms also has other important conse-
quences : it stimulates him to learn more about
them, and thus leads him to examine them or to
ask questions about points that puzzle him. If
his desire to learn is really strong, it also teaches
him the value of perseverance in the face of diffi-
culty and may even enable him to overcome some
contrary tendency such as dislike for reading or
indifference to accuracy. Under favourable cir-
cumstances his interest in mechanics can therefore
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 57
make a boy act consistently towards one end and
subordinate such impulses and sentiments as are
inimical to that end.
Once a sentiment has been formed it may under
suitable conditions rouse any of our impulses.
Thus the love parents feel for their child will
make them fear anything likely to hurt him and
attack any one unjust to him. It may also make
them collect (/. e. save) for his benefit, or investi-
gate various problems connected with his welfare.
Similarly a student's interest in botany may make
him fear that he may not be able to find suffi-
cient time for it or dislike persons who try to
interfere with his studies. If the sentiment is
strong enough, it may even set free enough self-
assertion to enable him to overcome a strong
dislike for some other subject which he needs
for his chosen line of study. On the other hand,
it is impossible for the student to feel indifferent
about anything which concerns his progress in
botany, just as it is impossible for the parent to
feel indifferent about anything which he considers
connected with the welfare of his child. Ob-
viously both student and parent may think it
wise to seem indifferent on a particular occasion,
but that is then due to the activity of some other,
contrary tendency.
Thus a sentiment for any object of thought
(that is to say, the child and the botany in our last
58 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
two examples) ensures that we are interested in
anything which affects that object and that we act
consistently in regard to it, in so far as we are
not checked by other contrary tendencies. A
sentiment may therefore be defined as a system of
impulses organised round the idea of some object of
thought^ in such a way as to ensure consistency
of behaviour in regard to that object^ except in so far
as this is prevented by the activity of other contrary
tendencies}
Although it was convenient to describe senti-
ments as likes and dislikes in the first instance,
this would not be satisfactory as a definition, for
it suggests that they are mere attitudes of mind,
whereas they are really centres of potential activity
of which we become aware through our likes and
dislikes. They are, in fact, somewhat like the
batteries which are used for storing electrical
power, the "object" of the sentim.ent being
represented by the mechanism of the battery, the
requisite percept or idea by an operator who is
able to discharge the battery, the acts and thoughts
which can be produced in this way by the motors
and lamps to which the operator can distribute
the stored power and the energy of which we are
1 Mr. Shand, to whom psychology owes this use of the term
" sentiment " defines it as a system of " emotional tendencies."
As his use of the term " emotion " is, however, rather different
from that adopted here, it seems better to modify his definition
as above.
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 59
aware when a sentiment is being stimulated by
the power which he is setting free.
B. The Origin and Growth of Sentiments
(i) The Part Played by Impulsive Activity. —
While the environment provides as it were the
raw material for sentiments, it would be a mistake
to suppose that two children who are brought up
in identical surroundings would necessarily acquire
the same centres of potential activity, for there
is undoubtedly something within the individual
which decides how his impulses become organised
round various objects of thought. Some are
frightened when others are angered ; some enjoy
constructive or inventive work to an extent which
seems quite incredible to others. These individual
differences are, of course, partly due to differences
of environment ; but they must be partly innate,
for they can be observed in quite young children.
Moreover the same child differs from day to day.
There are times when he is not happy unless he
is making or creating, and these are followed by
others when he seems to have lost all initiative.
It is difficult to account for these phenomena
unless we assume that impulses can in some way
become surcharged with energy from the self-
preservative and race-preservative centres and
that this energy will then expend itself on any
object, however unpromising, if it cannot find an
6o THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
outlet through an established sentiment. This
may be called true " impulsive activity." It is
characteristic of children rather than of adults,
for impulsive energy seems to discharge through
established centres of potential activity whenever
there are such at its disposal.^
When an overflow of energy has caused an
impulse to expend itself on some new object, the
result may be pleasant or unpleasant. In either
case the object is henceforth a matter of interest
to self, and thus a centre of potential activity. If
the result was pleasant, that object is likely to be
chosen purposefully, if unpleasant, it is likely to
be avoided when next that impulse is in need of
an outlet. What happens thereafter depends on
circumstances. The little child who is expending
his constructive impulse on clay-modelling and
on pencil-drawing may discover that the clay
model looks more like the real thing, or that it
receives more praise from his elders. In either
case he will learn to prefer the clay to the pencil :
in an unwise environment he may even take a
lasting dislike to pencil-work. All the same, clay
1 What is loosely termed an " impulsive " act is often only
due to the activity of a centre of which we are not aware.
The reader will find later that centres of potential activity can
affect our behaviour without our being aware of their existence
(cf Repressed Complexes, p. 83). The term impulsive activity
should, however, be restricted to cases in which acts are
performed for the first time under the pressure of an impulse
which is surcharged with energy.
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 6i
ceases to provide a satisfactory outlet for his
constructive impulse when he is a little older, for
he then wants to make toys that " work " and
consequently prefers to use cardboard or wood.
From the adult's point of view he has lost his
interest in clay-modelling and has taken a fancy
to cardboard-modelling or woodwork instead.
What has really happened is that he has had to
find a new outlet for his constructive impulse,
because the clay is no longer able to satisfy his
needs. In other words, an interest only lasts so
long as it satisfies a need of the self, and since the
needs of a child change as his powers develop, it
is not strange to find that his interests are, as
a rule, very unstable. The same applies to his
other sentiments, and the reason is also the same.
We have to remember that the child is still
learning the meaning of experiences which the
adult has " understood " for many a year. In this
process he necessarily makes mistakes, and when
he feels that he has made one, he thereby destroys
or modifies one or other of his sentiments.
As we grow older, our sentiments tend to become
more permanent, because we gradually succeed in
classifying our common experiences to our own
satisfaction. All the same, we continue to form
sentiments as long as we are mentally active and
some of these are always temporary, because they
depend on temporary circumstances. Thus a
62 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
worker is often afraid of a new mechanism until he
has learnt to control it, but once he is master of
the situation, he is likely to grow more and more
careless, until his very self-assurance causes him
to expose himself to a serious accident. In such
a case the organisation of impulses round the idea
of the mechanism has gradually changed from
one in which fear was the main factor to one in
which self-assertion is predominant. In other
cases the adult, like the child, may lose all interest
in an occupation because it is no longer able to
give him the stimulus he requires ; it may merely ,
have grown too easy to be attractive.
(2) The Part Flayed by the Environment. — We
have seen that sentiments may owe their existence
to an experimental overflow of energy. At first '
many centres of potential activity must come into
existence in this way, for the environment has at
first no meaning for the child. It would be
convenient to have a special term for these systems
(which we probably share with many of the higher
animals), but there is at present no recognised
name for them. We shall here call them primitive
complexes^ for the word sentiment implies a degree j
of self-consciousness which the baby does not
acquire for some time (and which most animals
probably do not acquire at all). As the child
becomes aware of himself as an individual, these
*' primitive complexes " become true sentiments in I
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 61,
so far as they satisfy the needs of the self. The
range of his activities is, however, no longer limited
by chance discoveries, for his behaviour is in-
fluenced increasingly by other forces, such as love
of power or desire for approval, and these cause
him to engage in occupations in which some of
his impulses are only satisfied incidentally.
What centres of potential activity he acquires
will, of course, still depend to some extent on the
innate characteristics of his impulses, but the
influence of the environment makes itself felt
more and more strongly as the child begins to be
able to put meaning into his experience. In
order to see how energy is diverted from one
object of thought to another and what is the part
played by the self in the process, it will be
necessary to trace some of our sentiments back
to their origin. Theoretically this should not
be a difficult task, but the reader will find that
it is often impossible in practice. We seem
always to have thought this right and that wrong,
to have liked this person and disliked that other,
or, again, we seem to have conceived a sudden
fancy for some person, thing or idea, and that
fancy seems to have come from nowhere, so far
as we can tell.
If we leave these aside for the moment, we are
left with a certain number of cases in which it
seems possible to give a satisfactory explanation.
64 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
Introspection seems to show that the sentiments
for which we can account owe their existence
either to other previously established sentiments
or to some severe emotional shock. Under the
first heading come many of our interests, for
these can usually be shown to have developed out
of pursuits which we first took up under the
influence of some one we adm.ired. Under the
second heading come such sentiments as the fear
of bathing induced by a narrow escape from
drowning in childhood, or lifelong admiration for
another person originated by the skill with which
he helped us at a critical moment. It should be
noticed that the second type really depends as
much as the first on previously established senti-
ments, for there would have been no emotional
shock had there been no love of living in the one
case, or desire to succeed in the other. We may
therefore conclude that all sentiments which we
can trace to their origin are derived from other
previously established sentiments of one kind or
another.
If we now examine the sentiments that seem
to come from nowhere, we shall see that most
of these are formed in the same way. To the
young child the adult is a wonderful person who
can do all kinds of marvellous things which he
finds difficult or impossible to copy. During the
earliest years of his life, the child is, moreover,
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 6s
absolutely dependent on his parents. Compared
with his weakness and ignorance, they must seem
all-powerful and all-wise. Hence they are
normally his first heroes. If they praise an act,
that act is worth copying, or if it was impulsive,
it is worth repeating ; if they like a person, that
person must be " nice," even though the child at
first dislikes both act and person. Thus he adopts
their point of view, or what he imagines to be
their point of view, through sheer prestige
suggestion. Our oldest sentiments are therefore
to be traced back to those earliest years of life
for which our memory i? notoriously bad. This
accounts for the impression that we have " always "
had them.
As for the love of the child for his parents,
that is at first largely, if not entirely, cupboard
love.^ As soon as he is able to distinguish his
mother from other persons, everything she does
for him must strengthen the impression that she
is the giver of good things. Thus the idea of
" mother " soon becomes closely connected with
the idea of " giver of good things." In technical
^ I was watching lately a class of mentally deficient children
whose mental development was that of children aged four to
six. The teacher asked them: "Why do you love your
mother?" She wanted the answer, "Because mother loves
me." She got, " Because mother makes puddings." " Because
mother puts me to bed." " Because mother gives me pennies,"
etc., etc.
F
66 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
language these ideas become so closely associated
one with the other that each tends before long to
produce the other of its own accord. The child
goes confidently to his parents, if he wants some-
thing and is willing to believe that even the
medicine and the punishments which they mete
out are really intended for his good. From a
■"■'^i'y early age there is mixed with this a desire
ior fondling and petting, which is the first indi-
cation of "love" in the ordinary sense of the
word. It is, however, entirely egotistic at this
stage, and therefore really only a particular form
of " cupboard love."
Later the sentiment grows In complexity.
Watching their parents as closely as they do,
children soon discover that the attitude of father
towards mother differs in some respects from that
of mother towards father. As soon as they have
reached this stage, the little boy tries to imitate
his father, the little girl her mother, and this
necessarily affects their sentiments for the parent
of the opposite sex, e.g. the mother is now for
the boy not only the giver of good things, but
also some one he must look after and protect.
A further stage is reached when the child has
realised the existence of a community outside his
own family circle. Unless he is exceptionally
unfortunate in his parents, he discovers that they
are respected by other members of their group.
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 67
and that at least one or other of them is the
leader of some section of it. Various forces
within him are urging him to go and do likewise.
He is therefore impressed by the fact that his
parents have attained in the world of adults the
very thing for which he is struggling among his
school-fellows, and his sentiment towards his
parents is thus once again increased in complexity.
For the present purpose the important thing
to notice is that the child of five or six has under
normal conditions learnt to love and admire his
parents, and has for some time already been
sufficiently conscious of himself as an individual
to do his utmost to imitate them at all points.
When he comes to school, he is for the first time
exposed to the influence of public opinion, and it
is therefore important to know how this will affect
the development of the sentiments which he has
acquired at home. Observation seems to show that
he readily falls in with those things which are in
accordance with, or at least not contrary to, his
home training, and that he struggles against, but
as a rule succumbs to, those things which do not
fit in with it.
This is especially the case with the child who
is first exposed to contrary influences at the age of
eight or ten. At this stage the desire to form into
gangs has become fairly strong, with the result
that the child longs above all things to be like his
68 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
companions, and will often do things which he
" knows " to be wrong rather than expose himself
to their ridicule.
Here is a case in point. In a certain private
school some girls of eight had an oral composition
lesson. The composition was written on the
blackboard and the children were told to write
it out from memory for homework. After the
lesson the leader of a small group suggested that
they should climb in at the window in the after-
noon and copy the story from the board, as the
teacher had been stupid enough not to rub it off.
One of her followers privately thought this " very
silly," but she climbed in with the others rather
than protest or exclude herself.
If part of the environment is unfavourable, the
child may in this way gradually develop two
standards of conduct — one for home and one for
school. If either the father or the mother has a
strong personality, he will, however, continue to
think that the home standards are the " right "
ones, even though experience may have taught
him that the others are better policy. How far
he will ultimately return to these home standards
will depend on his later environment. In a
community in which social functions absorb the
activities of the majority, the student feels
ashamed of his love of books, even though he
goes on with his studies. In a community in
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 69
which all amusement is held to be wicked, the
young girl feels equally ashamed of her longing
for harmless pleasures. When home and com-
munity work together, the rebellious individual is
almost certain to succumb to the pressure brought
to bear upon him, unless indeed the person who
roused his opposition is able and willing to stand
by him. (His rebellion may, of course, be due
to some book that happens to have come his way.)
When home and community are at variance and
about equally influential, the adolescent frequently
adopts one standard for home and another for
public life, for the community never ceases to
be an important factor in the determination of
behaviour, and it is only the exceptionally strong
individual who dares to ignore public opinion.
We have so far discussed the development of
sentiments as though they could be traced entirely
to the child's admiration for his parents and to
the pressure of the environment. To complete
our description we must now turn to the
psychology of friendship and hero-worship.
As is well known, hero-worship accounts for a
number of sentiments during adolescence and
friendships play their part in this respect through-
out life. On examination friendship will, I think,
be found to be merely a mild form of hero-
worship. There is usually one who leads and one
70 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
who follows ; in the best forms of friendship each
is the leader in some pursuits, the follower in
others, and each therefore respects the other. If
we bear this in mind, we may assume that what-
ever is true of hero-worship applies in a lesser
degree to friendship. There is, therefore, no
need to discuss them separately.
Hero-worship is, of course, particularly char-
acteristic of adolescence, but it must not be
supposed that every case one meets at school is
necessarily genuine. The average youth feels that
he is in some way at fault, if he cannot admire
the master or mistress and the elder boy or girl
who happen to be the fashion for the time being.
He is therefore quite capable of persuading
himself into a sort of sham hero-worship, rather
than own to himself that he is lacking in this
respect. Hero-worship that owes its origin to
nothing deeper than this is not likely to have any
lasting effect. But at other times the young
adolescent does feel genuinely drawn towards
some riper person. Occasionally his devotion
may even become strong enough to absorb his
whole being, so that the notice and approval of
his hero alone make life worth living and his
neglect causes suffering far more severe than the
adult would as a rule think possible. In a few
abnormal instances such neglect is actually said to
have been responsible for suicide, but even in the
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 71
normal healthy case, in which the devotion is not
extreme, it is none the less a force with which the
educator has to reckon, for it sets free energy
which is, so to speak, at the service of the elder.
Properly directed, it may be used to help the
young admirers to overcome their faults and to
develop new interests, misused, it may be frittered
away in such trivialities as carrying books or
bringing flowers.
The question naturally arises, whence comes
this hero-worship, which in its milder forms is
a normal stage in the development of every
individual ? To give a complete answer to this
question would take us beyond the limits of this
book. We shall therefore quote results and take
the proofs for granted. It has been shown by
the researches of Freud, Jung and others that
hero-worship is an intermediate stage through
which the adolescent has to pass in the process of
becoming an independent individual, capable of
founding a family of his own. In childhood his
parents fill his horizon, he takes them as his
model for everything, he desires to please them
above everything. If one of his parents has a
personality much stronger than his own, his
development may be arrested at this stage ; then
we get the full-grown man who remains " tied to
the apron-strings of his mother." Normally, the
individual manages to free himself from too great
72 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
domination of his parents during the period of
adolescence. His first attempt in this direction
is usually to find what seems like a partial sub-
stitute for them, though it is not an " attempt" in
the ordinary sense of the word, for he has no idea
what is happening to him. He only realises that he
feels strangely drawn towards this or that person.
In order to understand this phenomenon we
have to get some insight into the possibilities of
the unconscious part of our minds. That part of
the mind is unconscious, every one has probably
had occasion to notice in regard to memory and
thought. The easiest way to recall, say, a name
one has forgotten, is usually to wait until it
comes back of its own accord ; that is to say, to
leave it to the unconscious to find it. The
quickest way to solve a difficult problem is often
to put it aside for the time being and to come
back to it later on. This is true even if we have
not worked long enough to fatigue ourselves.
All that is essential is that we should be
thoroughly interested in our quest. Then the
mind goes on working at it below the surface of
consciousness while we are consciously attending
to other things, and we therefore come to it better
prepared on the second occasion. Sometimes we
may even wake up in the middle of the night
with the solution for a problem which has been
worrying us all day.
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 73
What is not so generally known is that impulses
can behave like memory and reason in this
respect. Modern analytical psychology {i.e. the
work of Freud, Jung and others) has taught us
that there may even be serious conflicts going on
below the surface without our knowing anything
about them. This happens when we repress
desires of which we arc ashamed, instead of facing
them squarely and fighting them in the open as it
were. For impulses and sentiments cannot be
killed ; the choice always lies between diverting
their energy into different channels and hiding or
"repressing" them.
Perhaps the most difficult conflict that the
human mind has to face is one which every
individual has to tackle, if he is to become an
independent member of society. This conflict
begins as soon as the child is deprived of the
undivided attention of his mother or nurse and
has consequently too much "power to love" at
his disposal. Under normal circumstances most
of the energy that is set free in this way is
gradually absorbed in childish friendships and in
various other sentiments. Between the ages of
four and seven most children are absolutely
absorbed in discovering their own powers and
their relation to persons and things, and at this
stage their little efforts to try their powers are
usually welcomed by those in authority. As a
74 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
child grows older and stronger, Nature urges him
more and more fiercely to go his own way and
to learn from his own experience. On the other
hand, his parents usually set very narrow limits
on what they consider it safe for him to try, and
his love and admiration for them make him feel
that it is wrong to disobey them. The result is
that he is often faced with a serious conflict of
desires at the early age of nine or ten, and this
conflict tends to grow more serious during the
next few years, because the boy is then old enough
to feel ashamed of it and consequently to repress
such portions of it as come to the surface of con-
sciousness. In the course of this process some of
the energy or power to love which was originally
centred round the parent, or in himself, seems to
be set free and transferred to some one else.
This substitute may or may not bear some
resemblance to one of his parents ; what is
essential is that he should seem to have some
quality or power which the youth is able to
appreciate, or that he should by actual experience
prove to the youth that he is able to show him
new and desirable outlets for his powers. Thus
boys make a hero of a master because he is
a fine athlete, because they enjoy being taught
by him, and so forth. In all such cases the
master provides a safety-valve for the super-
fluous energy of his young admirers, and it
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 75
therefore depends on him whether they use it
wisely.
(3) The Part Played by the Self. — In the course
of this section we have seen : (i) that sentiments
owe their existence to the pressure of some strong
impulse or to that of one or more previously
established centres of potential activity ; (2) that
primitive complexes which are formed by impulsive
activity only develop into permanent sentiments in
so far as they affect the individual's conscious love
of self ; and (3) that other sentiments can all be
traced back step by step until we come to that same
"love of self," or "self-regard," as it is usually
called. Self-regard is, therefore, the primary senti-
ment from which all others derive their energy. It
probably comes into being at a very early age, but
it only affects behaviour spasmodically at first, for
love of self obviously presupposes consciousness
of self, and a child is usually two or three years
of age before he is fully aware that he is a little
individual with wants and powers of his own.
During this period, he is entirely self-centred in
so far as he is aware of his " self," for he is so
busy finding out all about himself that he has little
energy left for anything else, and he is still so
dependent on others that it is only natural that he
should be led to consider himself the centre of
his little universe. Such sentiments as he forms
are the outcome of this view of life ; he likes
76 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
those who give him what he wants, he dislikes
those who do not, but beyond that he is not
interested in others. As his power over his en-
vironment increases, his idea of himself changes,
and he is therefore no longer satisfied with the
things which pleased him at an earlier age. In
other words, early likes and dislikes tend to
change in value or disappear as one grows older.
In so far as energy is set free in this process, it
may either be transferred to other persons or
things, or it may be re-absorbed by the self. Thus
the child who has lost his interest in stamp-
collecting may either find a new outlet for his
energy in some other occupation, or he may
merely spend so much more time in day-dreaming.
What he does in a particular case, and whether
the new occupation is or is not desirable, will
depend partly on himself but to a much greater
extent on his environment, for the approval of
those whom he respects ministers to his self-
regard and public opinion is a force he dare not
ignore. Thus it is the community which is at
fault, if the growing boy or girl fails to form
sentiments of social value. If the environment
fosters a social ideal of the " self," the youth will
try to be unselfish ; if it fosters an ideal of self-
seeking, he will as readily grow selfish.
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 77
C. The Effect of Sentiments on the Formation of
Habits and Judgments
Once a sentiment has become established it
tends to stimulate the growth of habits, for it
necessarily finds expression in one or more fixed
desires, and our efforts to satisfy these desires will
often cause us to acquire new forms of activity.
This point will be discussed more fully in the
chapter on the Growth and Control of Habits
(sec Chapter VI).
Sentiments also affect our interpretation and
judgment of the acts of others. If we like a
person we tend to judge his behaviour too leni-
ently, if we dislike him we tend to judge it too
severely. Possibly we must have caught our-
selves in the act to realise to what an extent we
are capable of such an injustice, but occasionally
we have the opportunity of observing something
of which we normally disapprove first in a person
whom we like and then, within a few hours or
days, in another whom we dislike. In such a
case we find ourselves (often to our own surprise)
declaring it to be a charming weakness in the
first case, a further proof of utter worthlessness
in the second. And we are really but little
better off when we are aware of this danger, for
then our very desire to be just will probably
make us judge those we like too severely and
78 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
those we dislike too leniently. It is therefore
impossible to be quite fair in one's judgment of
any person whom one either likes or dislikes.
Moreover, since one cannot judge a person at
all without knowing something about him, and
cannot know anything about him without con-
ceiving, however slight, a like or dislike for him,
it follows that it is impossible to judge any one
quite fairly.
Mr. Shand summarises the effect of sentiment
on behaviour as follows : " Every sentiment
tends to include in its system all the emotions,
thoughts, volitional processes and qualities of
character which are of advantage to it for the
attainment of its ends, and to reject all such
constituents as are either superfluous or antagon-
istic " (Foundations of Character, p. io6).
D. Mind-Tunnelling by the Method of Free
Associations
(i) Description of the Method. — It will have
been observed that the work of this chapter has
been largely based on results obtained by students
of modern analytical psychology. This is a
branch of psychology that is likely to become
increasingly important to teachers and students
of education, for it often enables us to explain
behaviour which would seem capricious or mean-
ingless without its aid, and to recognise symptoms
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 79
in their early stages before the underlying causes
have led to the formation of bad habits or of a
wrong attitude towards life.
The methods which the " analyst " employs
are based on what is technically known as the
Law of Association by Contiguity. This is stated
by Bain as follows : —
"Actions, Sensations and States of Feeling,
occurring together or in close succession, tend
to grow together or cohere in such a way that
when any one of them is afterwards present in
the mind, the others are apt to be brought up
in * idea.' " Let us suppose, for instance, that I
learn to appreciate the perseverance of a certain
person in connection with a definite piece of
work. Then the chances are that my thoughts
will drift to that person when I think of that
piece of work, or when I think of the value of
perseverance. Similarly the thought of that
person is likely to lead me to dwell on the value
of perseverance or on the piece of work in
question. What happens on a particular occasion
will, of course, depend on my interests at the
moment.
Thus the Law of Association by Contiguity is
merely the Law of Habit applied to the sphere
of thought. If any idea " A " becomes associ-
ated with another " B," then there is henceforth
a tendency for each to suggest the other. The
8o THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
strength of this tendency will depend partly on
the amount of interest attached to the association
" AB," and partly on the number of times " A "
and " B " have occurred together. The burnt
child, if seriously burnt, dreads the fire after one
experience, for the association between fire (A)
and pain (B) is of enough interest to the child
to be remembered for good. But the fact that
4 X 5 = 20 will usually need several repetitions
before it is remembered, for there is, as a rule,
but very moderate interest attached to the process
of counting four rows of five beans.
Associations between ideas differ from habits
of action in one important aspect. Actions only
become connected in the order in which they are
practised, but if the number of ideas have become
connected together, then any one of them has the
power of bringing back any of the others. In
other words, associations of movements only
work forwards, whereas associations of ideas work
backwards and forwards. Thus even counting
backwards is difficult without practice, but other
things being equal, it is no more difficult to work
back from bed-time than to work forward from
tea-time, if one wants to recall what one was doing
at seven o'clock on a certain day.
It is this fact that has been turned to account
in analytical psychology. The whole of its com-
plex technique is based on what is termed the
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 8i
Method of Free Associations. Fundamentally this
consists in letting the mind wander freely from
subject to subject, without attempting to control
the flow of thought in any way. If this is done,
things long ago " forgotten " or momentarily
repressed come to the surface of consciousness
and enable us to explain acts that seemed pur-
poseless or fancies that are quite contrary to the
main trend of our character.
An example will make this point clearer. When
I was trying to choose a suitable illustration in
the last paragraph, I thought first of a "certain
type of ability," then of " skill," but neither
satisfied me, though it obviously did not matter
much what word I used. Then " perseverance "
came, and immediately I felt it to be the " right
word." I stopped to wonder why. I had just
before been writing up my notes on a certain
feeble-minded girl, and had come across the
entry : '* Not lacking in perseverance, spent five
minutes trying to thread a needle with cotton too
coarse for it. I finally persuaded her to give it
up." This came back to my mind now and seemed
sufficient explanation for the moment, though
there was no reason why that entry should have
caught my eye rather than several others. It was
not till I wrote the words " Method of Free
Associations " that I understood that part of the
problem. "Perseverance" immediately flashed
82 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
across my mind again, this time as being essential
in the application of this method. That explained
why I had noticed that particular entry. I was
intending to write this section as soon as I had
written up my notes. I have often of late had
cause to realise that much perseverance is needed
in order to succeed with this method, and though
I was not consciously thinking of that aspect of
it at the time, it had evidently been stirred to
activity below the surface of consciousness. That
is why that entry caught my eye, and that is why
" perseverance " seemed the " right word " for my
illustration. If the reader will try similar experi-
ments, he will often find explanations for acts
which are at first sight quite as purposeless as the
one I have just described.
(2) Repressed Complexes and their Effect on Be-
haviour. — If we repress, /. e. refuse to think about,
an experience we have had, it is either because it
was exceptionally painful or because it has in
some way hurt our self-respect. In little chil-
dren the knowledge of conventions is so slight
that the feeling of shame cannot as yet act as a
restraint to any large extent, but fear of disapproval
and self-assertion very effectively take its place.
The child will not talk about things he has seen,
heard or done, if he has reason to expect that
such an account is likely to have unpleasant
results. Neither will he ask questions about
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 83
anything he wants to know if he thinks he will
not be told the truth. Since it is, moreover,
almost impossible for little people to think about
a thing without talking about it, the determina-
tion to keep silent about any experience of theirs
is almost certain to lead to repression of the
same.
As was pointed out earlier in this chapter, a
vivid emotional experience is often the source of
a lasting sentiment. If an experience of this
kind is repressed, the sentiment is not thereby
broken up, for the impulses remain centred
round the idea. The desires to which they give
rise are, however, prevented from coming to
consciousness in their normal form, for they would
only be repressed if they did. Yet, since the
" complex " (as the sentiment is usually called
when repressed) is still active, the vital energy set
free by it must find an outlet somehow. At
times it manages to slip out undisguised when
we are not on the watch. Thus a lady who
considers it her duty to keep on good terms with
old family friends, but who, none the less, heartily
dislikes one of them, once said to the latter in
my hearing, ** I am so glad you have to go so
soon." She was evidently quite unaware of the
slip she had made, for she did not correct herself
or seem self-conscious in any way.
More often these repressed complexes find an
84 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
outlet in a disguised form. Thus Jung gives us
an account of a child of four (called Anna in
the text) who developed an abnormal interest in
geography as the result of a repression. When
her baby brother was born, Anna wanted to know
about the origin of children. Her father told
her that the stork brings them, but this she
found out to be untrue. She therefore lost faith
in her parents at the very moment when she was
faced with a problem which was of intense in-
terest to her and which they alone could solve for
her. This happened just before the earthquake
of Messina. Anna heard the latter discussed at
table. She got very excited and asked endless
questions about it. Her desire for knowledge
was such that she spent hours poring over maps
and pictures of volcanoes. She also "began to
cry out frequently at night that the earthquake
was coming and that she heard the thunder"
{Analytical Psychology, Jung, translated by Con-
stance Long, edition 1916, p. 14 1). Presently
her father took an opportunity to tell her some-
thing about the origin of children in a way that
convinced her that he was speaking the truth.
Then her fear of earthquakes disappeared as sud-
denly as it had come into existence. Her very
interest in them was lost ! " In order to test
this new state of affairs the father showed her
pictures illustrating volcanoes and earthquake
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 85
devastations. Anna remained unaffected ; she
examined the pictures with indifference, remark-
ing, * These people are dead ; I have already
seen that quite often.' The pictures of a vol-
canic eruption no longer had any attraction for
her. Thus all her scientific interest collapsed and
vanished as suddenly as it came " {op. cit., p. 144).
Here we have, therefore, interest in the origin of
children repressed, and the energy set free by it
diverted to interest in earthquakes and volcanoes.
But such " sublimation," as it is called technically,
is abnormal at the age of four. As Jung points
out, it would, if encouraged, involve premature
mental strain, for which the child would very
likely have to suffer later on.
The paths by which a repressed complex finds
an outlet are many and various. Thumb-sucking,
if continued after infancy, is often due to a repressed
desire for more affection. Queer fancies and
objectless fears can usually be traced to some
experience long ago forgotten by the victim. And
always the method of discovering the cause of a
symptom is fundamentally that of free associations,
working at times from a person's waking thoughts,
and more frequently from his dreams.
As in the case of sentiments, these methods of
relieving pressure are repeated if not checked ;
but since the resulting habits originate in desires
which the individual is hiding from himself, it is
86 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
often difficult to discover their source, and the
person himself is usually under the impression
that he has drifted into them involuntarily.
(3) The Value of Mind-Tunnelling in Connection
with Repressed Complexes. — In conclusion, I will
quote a case of Dr. Rivers (See The Lancet^ August
18, 1 91 7). A certain officer in the R.A.M.C. had
a great dislike for closed spaces. He had suffered
from this since boyhood. To be shut up in a
closed space frightened him, though he could give
no reason for his fear, and he found the strain of
living in dugouts and trenches so intolerable that
he broke down under it. Working with the
method of free associations. Dr. Rivers caused him
to recall the following scene from his childhood.
As a little boy of three or four, he had taken
something to a ragman in order to sell it. The
ragman lived at the end of a long dark passage.
When the child came back, he could not open the
door at the end of the passage, at the same time
a dog began to growl in the darkness ; it is no
wonder that he was terrified. This adventure he
had first repressed and afterwards forgotten. But
it had gone on living below the surface, causing a
general fear of closed spaces, which he found
impossible to conquer, though he must have
realised its futility. An interesting point in cases
of this kind is that the symptom, e. g. the object-
less fear, disappears when the unconscious complex
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 87
has been brought back to consciousness and has
thus been broken up.
The greater the resistance, the greater is the
perseverance that is needed to recall an event that
has been "forgotten" through repression. Yet
recalled it must be, if we wish to cure individuals
of such things as objectless fears, or if we wish to
solve such problems as the functions of hero-
worship in the development of the adolescent.
Roughly speaking, the method employed in cases
of difficulty is to attack the " forgotten " event
from as many different points as possible, until it
is at last stimulated so strongly that it is recalled
in spite of the resistance.
E. Gregarjousness
(i) The Psychology of Gregariousness. — In the
course of this chapter we have had occasion to
refer to the desire for companionship and the
force of public opinion. Phenomena of this
nature are usually classed together as products of
our natural " gregariousness," or desire to live
with others of our own kind. We have now to
try to account for this desire and to study some
of its effects on behaviour.
Gregariousness in its simplest form merely
drives us to seek company of some kind. It
causes us to take pleasure in being one of a
crowd and makes us afraid of being out of reach
88 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
of other human beings. It is often described as
a special instinct (cf . Trotter, Instincts of the Herd
in Peace and War^ and McDougall, op. cit.^ p. 84),
but it may well be the outward expression of the
fear of being alone.
This fear every child acquires during the first
years of life, for he is then so helpless that it is
not safe to let him stray far afield. It probably
manages to survive when he begins to. be able to
look after himself, because it ensures the attention
of others, which is exactly what his egotistic little
soul desires above all else. If he is taught to feel
ashamed of it as he grows older, he will probably
repress it into a complex, otherwise it may remain
a sentiment all his life. In the latter case he will
remain aware of his fear of solitude and will,
therefore, not have to invent other more dignified
reasons for his desire for companionship. Whether
present as complex or sentiment, his fear will,
however, have the effect of making him seek the
society of others. As we have already seen, it is,
moreover, soon reinforced by the desire for
friendships (cf. p. 73).
These forces together must gradually accustom
the child to the continual companionship of others
of his own kind, and the companionship in turn
must cause him to form interests and other senti-
ments, the satisfaction of which depends on con-
tinual intercourse with others. It is, therefore.
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 89
^— ^^M^.^-^ ■ I . , I, I ■ ■ I - I ■ ■ . ■ ■ — M
not difficult to see why the adult usually finds it
extraordinarily difficult to live a life of solitude.
To accustom himself to such a change he has to
find new outlets for a large number of sentiments
and complexes, some of which (such as the fear of
being alone) date back to the earliest years of his
life and have therefore had time to form all kinds
of derivatives in their service.
At the age of seven or eight an interesting
stage is reached in the development of gregarious-
ness, for that is the age at which children usually
begin to form gangs and clubs of their own
accord. At first these organisations are, of course,
very unstable ; not only the leader, but even the
members, often change from day to day. Children
of this age will often tell us : "I am not friends
with So-and-so to-day." All the same the gang
or club is a living entity to its members and it is
felt to be a serious matter to be expelled from it.
The verdict : " We do not want you to play with
us, you always spoil the game," has made many
a strong-willed child make his first real effort to
gain self-control. It should be noticed that the
fear of being alone inculcates the same lesson,
even if the issue is not complicated by the desire
for friendship, for a community always has it in
its power to ostracise its most obnoxious members.
Further, the need for company may come into
conflict with the desire for the friendship of a
90 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
particular individual, for a person may find that
one of his friends has incurred the anger of the
community and he may then have to choose
between comparative isolation and the loss of a
friend.
(2) The Relation of Gregariousness to Love of
Approval^ Suggestion and Imitation. — It will be
obvious that conflicts between the need for friends,
the fear of loneliness, and the love of power, must
lead to endless problems of behaviour. The more
important of these the reader will find discussed
in the chapters on Character. Before leaving the
subject, it will, however, be convenient to prepare
the ground by describing three phenomena which
are closely connected with their solution. These
are love of approval, suggestion and imitation.
Love of Approval. — Love of approval may be
due to nothing more than a desire for concrete
gain of some kind. Thus a child will try to gain
the approval of the teacher, who has it in his
power to grant or withhold some privilege. This
is, however, only a partial explanation of the
phenomenon, for we often experience a desire for
approval when there cannot be any question of
gaining something concrete. Another obvious
explanation is that the desire is due to self-asser-
tion, but that again is not satisfactory as it stands,
for it does not show why we need the approval
of others even when we know that we have done
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 91
a good piece of work. The love of approval,
which is not merely the reverse of fear of pain,
seems rather to be the result of the interaction of
self-assertion with some other innate tendency.
In the case of the young child this tendency is, no
doubt, what we usually call his " love " for parent
or nurse. It has often been observed that a child,
who is deprived of the petting and fondling
which the average child gets as a matter of course,
misses something which the best education is not
able to replace. Displeasure on the part of the
parents necessarily means deprivation of these
expressions of love and the child's need for them
must, therefore, act as a strong incentive in the
right direction. Presently this is reinforced by
self-assertion, for he wants to prove to himself
that he is growing in strength and skill, and he
has become sufficiently aware of his own ignorance
to feel that he can only judge his progress by the
impression which his achievements make on others.
By the time the child is old enough to form friend-
ships, the desire for actual fondling and petting
has developed into a desire for sympathy and
comradeship, but the origin of his desire for the
good opinion of his friend seems to be similar to
that of the earlier forms. On the other hand,
attempts to gain the approval of a superior whom
the individual does not like, or of the community
as a whole, seem rather to be based on fear and
92 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
self-assertion. The hold which a community has
over the average individual (or, in other words, the
extent to which the individual fears ostracism), is
seen by the readiness with which he usually bows
to the verdict of the majority. In fact, fear of
public opinion is, as a rule, stronger than fear of a
superior, if there is conflict between the two ; the
average boy of ten or eleven will incur the wrath
of his master rather than that of his fellows.
To sum up, the inborn tendencies of every
normal person make him want to win the
approval of the individuals who are either his
friends or his superiors and of the groups and
associations of which he forms a part. In any
particular case this desire may be due to love for a
particular individual, fear of one kind or another,
or, more usually, the interaction of either or both
of these with self-assertion. Finally, when the
choice lies between the approval of an individual
and that of a group, the latter is likely to prove
the greater incentive, unless the former is reinforced
by a strong feeling of friendship.^ As the reader
will gather from my analysis of love of approval,
I feel inclined to think that the interaction of
gregariousness and self-assertion is sufficient to
^ Dr. McDougall assumes the existence of an impulse of
self-subjection which "expresses itself in a slinking, crestfallen
behaviour, a general diminution of muscular tone, slow, restricted
movements, a hanging down of the head and sidelong glances"
{Introduction to Social Psychology, Edition 1910, pp. 64-65).
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 93
account for this form of behaviour, and that it is
consequently unnecessary to postulate the existence
of a special impulse.
Suggestion. — Roughly speaking, we divide the
people with whom we come into contact into
superiors, equals and inferiors. This does not
imply that we necessarily consider a person our
inferior or our superior in all respects ; frequently
we feel him to be our inferior in some things,
our equal or superior in others. In so far as we
consider another our inferior, he has no influence
over us, for we consider ourselves better qualified
than he.^ But if we have reason to believe that
he is our superior in something in which we
would like to perfect ourselves, he is for us the
leader of a group to which we would like to
belong, and if our respect for him is great enough,
we are prepared to follow him blindly and do
not even experience the desire to find a reason
for his commands. In other words, we are pre-
pared to accept his statements without logically
adequate proof.
It is usual to refer to statements accepted in
this way as " suggestions^'' and to describe the per-
sons who are willing to act on them as ** suggestible.'"
1 It should be noticed that the unsupported opinion of an
equal, or even of an inferior, may be accepted uncritically when
it flatters our self-esteem. This is due to our tendency to
** forget " whatever is contrary to the dominating interest of
the moment. (Cf. quotation from Mr. Shand, p. 78.)
94 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
We may, therefore, say that we take suggestions
from our superiors, but not from our inferiors.
There remains our attitude towards equals. This
is different from either of the others, for it depends
on the number of persons who make the assertion.
If an equal has no one to support him, we expect
him to give us a reason for his opinion, but if
four or five all assert the same thing, we begin to
waver and if the group is large enough, we
usually accept its point of view as uncritically as
that of the leader, for we then feel that we are
dealing with an opinion of our group, and this we
want to accept to prove ourselves members of the
group. We may, therefore, conclude that we
accept suggestions from a single individual if we
look upon him as the leader of a group to which
we either belong or would like to belong, and that
we accept suggestions from a number of individuals,
if we think that they are members of such a
group. It is usual to call the former ^'■prestige
suggestion^'' the latter '* mass suggestion.'' There are
evidently a number of educational problems to
discuss in connection with *' suggestion," but it
will be convenient to leave these until we are
dealing with the training of the character (see
Chapter IX).
Imitation. — If we wish to decide whether a
certain person belongs to our "set," we try to
find out how he behaves, what opinions he holds
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 95
and possibly how he earns his living. Then, if
he turns out to be like us in what we consider
essentials, we are prepared to accept him as "one
of us." If not, we may consider him as our
superior or as our inferior, but we do not admit
him to our " group " on terms of equality. Hence
the person who for any reason wishes to belong
to a particular group is forced to imitate the
characteristic actions of that group and even to
adopt its opinions and prejudices. Imitation of
this kind can be called " conscious " imitation. It
is evidently the result of the interaction of
gregariousness and self-assertion, for gregarious-
ness impels us to join a group of some kind and
the sacrifice of independence which this necessarily
entails would injure our self-esteem, if we did not
imagine that the members of the group we select are
as good as, or better than, ourselves. Conscious
imitation is, however, not necessarily intelligent.
A boy of four "wrote " something that looked at
a distance like a letter, but when asked what he
had been writing about he looked blank ; he had
wanted to do what the older children were doing,
but he had not yet realised the purpose of letters.
It is worth while to notice in this connection that
the child imitates wholes rather than parts. The
reason for this is simple : the wholes have mean-
ing for him, the parts have none, hence he is
interested in the wholes and not in the parts, and
96 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
there can be no desire to imitate where there is
no interest. We should therefore teach in wholes
or, if the final whole is too complex, break it up
into simpler wholes, each of which has a meaning
for the child. Thus it is permissible to break up
a word into sounds when a child has discovered
their existence, but it is never permissible to break
up a letter into "pot-hooks," because these are
necessarily meaningless.
Besides *' conscious " imitation, there is another
form, which is known as " unconscious " imitation.
As the name suggests, this is a tendency to imitate
others which is not due to any conscious desire
on our part. It also differs from the other form
in that it may make us imitate the actions of
people who do not belong to any of the groups
which we have chosen consciously. At times it
may even be responsible for mannerisms and
expressions which we consider ugly or incorrect.
On the other hand, unconscious imitation does not,
as a rule, impel us to copy the movements of
animals and mechanisms.
The reader will be prepared to find that uncon-
scious imitation is due to the activity of uncon-
scious complexes. Probably the fear of being
alone is involved in every such act. The particular
path by which the energy escapes must, however,
be influenced by other sentiments or complexes.
SENTIMENTS AND COMPLEXES 97
It will be more convenient to discuss this point
fully in connection with the origin of habits which
have been acquired unconsciously (see pp. 1 1 7-
1 19). The social value of unconscious imitation is
too obvious to be in need of elaboration. It helps
us to "rub off corners," and thus makes it easier
for us to live with each other. It enables the child
to pick up the speech and manners of his environ-
ment without conscious effort on his part.
There is, however, another side to the question,
for the very ease with which we become like each
other may in itself become an obstacle to progress,
if not held in check by a contrary tendency.
During childhood and youth self-regard usually
provides this necessary check, but as persons
grow older they often prefer to stay in the group
in which they happen to find themselves, and it
evidently depends on the constitution and leader-
ship of that group whether this is or is not
desirable. However, so long as an individual is
growing mentally, he remains eager to choose his
companions from the " best " group available and
to acquire by conscious imitation much that he
would never have obtained without such efforts.
H
CHAPTER V
NOTES ON THE FUNCTION OF THE NERVOUS
SYSTEM
A. The Neurone or Nerve-Cell.
B. The Physiology of a Simple Reflex Act.
C. The Central Nervous System.
D. The Physiology of Impulse.
E. Summary.
We shall find as we proceed that the student
of psychology must know a little physiology in
order to appreciate some of the problems with
which he is confronted. This chapter will there-
fore consist of a few notes on the physiology of
the nervous system, which the reader will find
convenient for reference.
A. The Neurone or Nerve-Cell
The nervous system may be described shortly
as an exceedingly complex network of nerve-cells
and their branches, or neurones as they are usually
called. The cell of the neurone is microscopic
in size ; some idea of its minuteness will be
obtained from the fact that there are said to be
about 3,000,000,000 nerve-cells in the brain and
98
FUNCTION OF NERVOUS SYSTEM 99
spinal cord. Fig. i gives the structure of the
branches of a typical neurone. It will be noticed
that most of the processes of the nerve-cell break
off almost immediately into smaller branches end-
ing in arborescences of fine twigs ; these are called
dendrons. The one long process
which is shown in the diagram is
called the axis cylinder or axon ;
it varies greatly in length in
different neurones, but always
ends in an arborisation similar
to that of the dendrons. The
axon has a few fine side branches
near the cell of the neurone,
which are called collaterals. Mi-
croscopic examination shows that
the dendrons and collaterals of
neighbouring neurones inter-
mingle and interlace, but it is not
known at present whether each
neurone is an anatomically in-
dependent unit, or whether there is a continuous
path from cell to cell. The important facts for
the psychologist are that there is functional con-
tinuity between neurones and that each is so
closely associated with several others that no part
of the nervous system can be considered apart
from the rest (cf. Lickley, The Nervous System,
p. 12).
Fig. I. — Pyramidal
cell from cerebrum.
(From Halliburton's
Handbook of Physi-
ology.)
loo THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
B. The Physiology of a Simple Reflex Act
Fig. 2 is a diagram of the path of nervous energy
in a reflex act — such as the withdrawal of the
hand after touching something that is unpleasantly-
hot. " S " is a sensory neurone, the axon of
which passes from the cell in the spinal cord to
some point on the surface of the hand. *' M "
s
Fig. 2. — Reflex Action. (From Halliburton.)
is the motor neurone, the axon of which passes
from its cell in the spinal cord to one of the
muscle fibres which control the movement of
the hand, and " I " is what may be called an
intermediary neurone. When the excessive heat
stimulates the sensory neurone S, nervous energy
is set free. This travels up the sensory neurone to
the intermediate neurone I, thence to the motor
neurone M and thus down to the muscle fibre,
which it causes to contract. In the diagram only
FUNCTION OF NERVOUS SYSTEM loi
one neurone of each kind has been shown, but in
practice many more are involved, for any move-
ment of the hand depends on
contractions in a large number of
muscle fibres and a stimulus like
heat usually affects more than
one sensory neurone. Further,
we do not normally burn our-
selves without being aware of it,
and we do not become aware
of stimuli unless some of the
nervous energy which they set
free succeeds in reaching certain
neurones in the brain. Thus
Fig. 2 only represents the path
of part of the energy that was
set free ; the rest must have
passed by way of other inter-
mediary neurones to those which
make it possible for us to be-
come conscious of heat and pain.
This part of the path has been
omitted in the diagram for the
sake of simplicity, but it can
easily be imagined from Fig. 3,
which shows how we move an
arm voluntarily. In this case the nervous energy
is set free centrally in response to a thought or
wish ; it then travels to the intermediary neurones,
]''iG. 3. — Diagram of
the neurones of the
motor path. (From
Halliburton.)
I02 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
and from these to the necessary motor neurones.
Generally speaking, nervous energy can pass from
one part of the nervous system to another by
means of these intermediary neurones, and the
number that is involved in a particular case
depends on the complexity of the mental process
involved.
C. The Central Nervous System
We shall next consider the structures of the
nervous system as a whole. It consists structur-
ally of two parts, the central system, which
controls both voluntary and involuntary acts,
and the much smaller automatic system, which
is only concerned with pure reflexes, such as the
activity of the glands and the contraction of the
pupil of the eye in bright sunlight. The cells
of the central system are situated in the brain
and the spinal cord, those of the autonomic
system are arranged in groups which lie along
both sides of the vertebral column and near
certain nerves of the brain ; the two systems are
connected by strands of fibres which pass at
intervals between them.
In both systems the cells which carry out a
common purpose are grouped together into
"nerve centres."
The central nervous system consists structurally
of six parts : (i) the spinal cord ; (2) the bulb
or medulla oblongata ; (3) the cerebellum or the
FUNCTION OF NERVOUS SYSTEM 103
smaller brain ; (4) the pons or bridge which con-
nects the smaller brain with the rest of the
nervous system ; (5) the mid brain ; and (6) the
cerebrum or greater brain (see Fig. 4).
Fig. 4. — Plan in outline of brain as seen from the right side. A,
cerebrum ; B, cerebellum ; C, pons ; D, medulla oblongata. After
Quain's Anatomy (Sir E. Sharpey Schafer). Longmans, Green & Co.
It would take us far beyond the scope of this
book to describe the functions of these different
parts in any detail, but we may summarise them
as follows : —
(i) The cells of the spinal cord control the
reflex movements of the limbs and the trunk.
(2) Those of the bulb, the pons and the mid-
brain regulate breathing, heart-beating and other
reflexes which are essential for our well-being.
I04 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
(3) Those of the cerebellum are concerned
with the co-ordination of muscular movements,
and more particularly with the harmonious ad-
justment of the working of the muscles which
maintain the body in a position of equilibrium.
(4) Those of the cerebrum make volition,
perception, thought and feeling possible.
Taste
and Smell
I = area for leg. 2 = area for body.
4 — area for neck. 5 = area for tongue.
Fig. 5. — Left cerebral hemisphere : outer surface.
Sight
3 = area for arm.
6 = area for mouth.
In other words, the cerebrum is the organ
which enables us to formulate ends and to
achieve them, whereas the rest of the nervous
system is concerned with reflex activity, that is
to say, with activity over which we have little
or no direct control (see Chapter II).
There will be no need for us to study the
structure of the spinal cord and lower brain
any further, but it will be convenient to know
a little more about the cerebrum.
FUNCTION OF NERVOUS SYSTEM 105
Fig. 5 gives a rough idea of how the nerve-
centres are distributed on its outer surface. The
centres of the motor area enable us to move our
muscles at will (cf. Fig. 3) ; the words "arm,"
" leg," etc., show the situation of the centres for
the different parts of the body. The other areas
that are marked in the diagram enable us to
become aware of stimuli of sound, light, etc.
The area marked "Tactile and Muscular Senses"
is, perhaps, in need of a word of explanation ;
it is concerned both with ordinary stimuli of
touch and with those which enable us to tell
the position of a limb without looking at it ; if
the centres of this area are not in working order
the patient becomes unable to tell the position
of his limbs without looking at them. There
remain the areas which are left blank in the
diagram. These are usually called the " associa-
tion areas," because they are said to contain the
neurones which act as intermediaries between the
centres of the sensory and motor areas, and thus
enable us to associate together impressions from
different senses and sensations with movements.
Thus the light and sound of a lire set free
energy in the visual and auditory areas of the
cerebrum in the way explained above, but this
energy then passes to some common centre in the
association area, and it is the fact that this third
centre is being stimulated simultaneously by two
different sense centres, which somehow enables
io6 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
us to realise that the light and sound are coming
from the same source, the fire. Similarly, if a
number of association centres are stimulated one
after the other, further intermediary neurones
seem to enable us to realise in what order we
are experiencing the corresponding impressions.
The possibilities of mental activity which we
owe to the association areas are further increased
by the tendency of the neurones of the cerebrum
to store impressions for future use. The physio-
logical explanation suggested for this phenomenon
is that nervous energy encounters resistance the
first time it passes from one neurone to another,
and that this resistance decreases every time the
same path is taken. Psychologically this means
that acts and lines of thought become easier on
repetition. We are, moreover, able to reproduce
many experiences at will, and can thus repeat
them until the resistance has become negligible.
In other words, habit, recognition and memory
all depend ultimately on this tendency of nerve-
centres to be permanently affected by suitable
stimuli. It could be shown that perception,
imagination and reasoning in turn depend on the
power of forming associations combined with that
of recalling the past, and we have already seen
that voluntary movement can be initiated in the
motor areas. Hence the cerebrum enables us : (i)
to conceive ends ; (2) to adapt our behaviour
to these ends ; and (3) to make useful forms
FUNCTION OF NERVOUS SYSTEM 107
of behaviour habitual. Or, to put the same thing
more shortly, the cerebrum is the organ which
enables us to use our impulses to the best
advantage.
So far, we are on safe ground, but if we
now ask what is the exact connection between
physiological changes in the nervous system and
the mental processes which are in some way
dependent on them, science has as yet no answer
•to give us. We know that the functioning of
the mind is in some way dependent on that of the
brain, but we are at present absolutely ignorant
of the way in which this interdependence is
established.
D. The Physiology of Impulse
As regards the physiology of impulse as such,
there is as yet even less information at our
disposal. It seems probable that a group of
neurones at the base of the cerebrum (called
the thalamus) is responsible for the distribution of
impulsive activity, and that the thalamic centre it-
self is especially concerned with the production of
emotion, while the cortex exercises discuminative
and inhibitory functions. That is all Physiology
can teach us at present about the initiation of
impulsive activity.
In the case of most impulses we know just
a little about the mechanism which controls the
io8 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
rest of the process. Such information as we have
is, in the main, concerned with the impulse
to avoid danger and the impulse to fight.
Observation teaches us that both these impulses
produce certain reflex changes within us which
prepare us for activity ; thus the person who is
growing angry often stiffens his muscles and
clenches his fists without being aware of it,
and the person who is frightened starts up, even
if he does not run away. Hence some of the
energy which is set free by the percept must be
diverted reflexly to the motor centres of the
spinal cord, which will be thrown into activity
if we give way to the corresponding impulse.
It has been shown of late that the reflex
centres of the nervous system also prepare us
for emergencies in another way. Situated just
above the kidneys there are two small glands
which secrete a substance called adrenaline. In
anger and fear these glands are stimulated auto-
matically, with the result that they secrete more
than the normal amount of adrenaline. The way
this reacts on the body is too complex to be
described in this connection. The reader who
knows no physiology will therefore have to take
it for granted that the extra adrenaline increases
the power of resistance of heart and muscle and
thus renders both attack and defence more
eff^ective. Thus the impulse to fight and the
impulse to avoid danger are connected innately
FUNCTION OF NERVOUS SYSTEM 109
with reflexes which are of the greatest value to
us when our safety is being threatened. In other
cases we cannot be so certain, but impulsive
activity is usually accompanied by facial expression
which is undoubtedly reflex in nature. Thus
there is reason to believe that each impulse is
connected innately with a more or less complex
system of reflexes to which energy is diverted
automatically whenever the impulse is stimulated.
E. Summary
In conclusion we may sum up the main points
in this chapter as follows. From the point of
view of the student of behaviour, the function
of the nervous system is twofold : the centres
of the spine and lower brain control a large
number of activities which are essential to our
well-being and they do this reflexly, so that
each stimulus produces the right reaction without
any conscious interference on our part ; the centres
of the cerebrum enable us to become aware of
our environment and to act in accordance with
our desires. Our knowledge of the physiology
of impulse is still very limited, but we have
reason to believe that the energy set free by
any percept is used partly in voluntary and partly
in reflex activity, and that the amount of energy
which can be expended in these ways on any
particular occasion is under the control of certain
nerve-centres in the thalamus.
CHAPTER VI
THE GROWTH AND CONTROL OF HABITS
A. The Law of Habit and its Effect on Behaviour.
B. The Origin of Habits.
(1) Consciously Acquired Habits.
(2) Unconsciously Acquired Habits.
C. The Growth and Control of Consciously Acquired Habits.
(1) Rules for Acquiring Habits with the Minimum of
Effort.
(2) The Effect of Indecision on the Growth of Habits.
(3) The So-called "Transference" of Habits.
A. The Law of Habit
We saw in the last chapter that our conscious
acts, thoughts and feelings are the psychological
equivalents of the physiological phenomena which
are produced by the flow of nervous energy
through the cerebrum. We also saw that nervous
energy encounters resistance the first time it
flows along a new path, but that each repetition
decreases this resistance so that practice can make
any path habitual, by rendering it easier than any
of its alternatives. We mav therefore state the
Law of Habit as follows : Every response to a
stimulus — whether act or thought — tends to recur
when the stimulus recurs^ and every such recurrence
no
THE GROWTH OF HABITS iii
itself strengthens this tendency. Clearly this does
not mean that the recurrence of a stimulus is in
itself sufficient to make the resulting act habitual.
At times our behaviour produces unpleasant
results, at others it is "abnormal" in the sense
that it is due to the temporary weakening of some
well-established sentiment or habit. In such cases
contrary forces are likely to prove too strong on
the next occasion and the response of the moment
will, therefore, not have a chance of becoming
habitual, no matter how often the stimulus recurs.
Our tendency to form habits enables us to
make numbers of useful responses automatic.
Thus we gradually learn to look round, if we hear
the hoot of a motor, to turn out the electric light,
when we go out of a room, and so forth. And
these actions tend to become so automatic that we
sometimes look up at the hoot of a motor when
we are safely on the foot-path, or turn out the
electric light when there are other persons left in
the room. Moreover, as we all know, many of
our most valuable habits consist of long series of
responses which practice has bound together into
one automatic whole. Thus we are able to write
familiar words, to walk up and down stairs, and
even to find our way to our place of daily work,
without attending to what we are doing. In fact
the mechanisms seem to work themselves once we
have started them and we are often barely aware
112 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
of what is going on, unless the normal path is
blocked by some unusual obstacle. The reader
may obtain some idea of the way in which these
series grow up by practising a short sentence,
such as " I am going out," until he can write it as
one mechanical whole. He will find that he is at
first aware of every word as he finishes it, but that
the words gradually merge into each other, so that
he can ultimately write the whole sentence as
though it were one single word. This means
that there was at the beginning of the experiment
more or less resistance between the sensations
accompanying the finishing of one word and the
first movement required for the next, and that
this resistance was decreased by practice until it
grew too slight to produce awareness. We can
therefore represent the series which is rendered
mechanical when habits of this kind are being
formed as : —
Stimulus-»ist movement-^resulting sensations
->2nd movement-^resulting sensations-^ . . . ->
... to the end of the series.
It should be noticed that the intermediate
sensations only develop into percepts so long as
there is a certain amount of resistance in the path
which the nervous energy has to take. After-
wards we are only aware of the initial stimulus
and of the final sensations, which mean that the
task is completed, and are therefore free to attend
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 113
to other things once we have set the machine in
motion. The reader need only consider the
number of mechanical tasks he has to accomplish
day by day, in order to realise how little time he
would have left for tackling new problems, if he
were not endowed with the power of executing
automatic movements without becoming aware of
them.^
There is still another way in which the tendency
to form habits simplifies life. If my alarm clock
wakes me at six o'clock on a cold winter morning,
I am quite likely to decide that it is really too
cold to get up so early and that the piece of work
which seemed so urgent last night can well be left
for another day. But if I have decided to form
a habit of getting up at 6 a.m. and therefore force
myself to obey the alarm day after day in spite of
various good reasons to the contrary, I find that
these reasons gradually cease to obtrude them-
selves on my consciousness and that I presently
jump out of bed at the proper time without being
^ The physiological cause of this loss of awareness is not
certain. It has been suggested that the resistance which the
nervous energy encounters is the physiological equivalent of
consciousness and that every decrease in resistance is accom-
panied by a corresponding loss of awareness. There is, how-
ever, reason to believe that the motor centres which give us
control over voluntary movements cease to function when an
act has become habitual and it is therefore possible that the
loss of awareness is due to some change in the path taken by
the nervous energy when the act has become automatic.
I
114 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
aware of any choice in the matter. This is an
instance of what it will be convenient to call a
'' habit of choice." Like all habits, it is formed
by decreasing the resistance between a stimulus
and a reaction and it only differs from a habit of
action in that the reaction happens to be an idea
instead of a movement or a series of movements.
Our tendency to lose sight of possible alternatives
as one course of action becomes habitual clearly
results in much economy of effort, for it reduces
both the number of problems we have to solve
and the number of times we have to exert will-
power in order to act according to our resolutions.
To sum up, thanks to the Law of Habit, we
drift into many useful forms of activity and are
also able to acquire acts of skill and to learn to
behave consistently without special conscious eff*ort.
Moreover, the separate elements of an act of skill
and the disturbing alternatives in an act of choice
cease to attract our attention as these acts become
automatic. In short, habit makes easy what was
at first difficult and thus enables us to adapt our
actions to our needs with the least possible
expenditure of energy.
B. The Origin of Habits
So far as we know, the only mental systems
which make for consistency in acquired forms of
behaviour are those centres of potential activity
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 115
which we call " sentiments " when they are con-
scious, and " complexes " when they are un-
conscious. It is therefore to these that we must
turn for the origin of habits.
(i) Consciously Acquired Habits. — Clearly every
consciously acquired habit must have been formed
in response to some conscious desire, and we
know that conscious desires owe their existence
to sentiments. We may therefore conclude that
consciously acquired habits are formed in the service
of sentiments.
(2) Unconsciously Acquired Habits. — Though
most of the habits which are formed in the
service of sentiments are acquired consciously,
some are, no doubt, developed without arousing
the awareness of the conscious self. These would
be acts which facilitate the attainment of some
conscious desire, but which involve no particular
difficulty and can therefore be left to look after
themselves. Under this heading might come
such habits as that of looking right and left before
crossing a busy thoroughfare. Any one who
lives in a big city is likely to acquire this habit
before long, but it is learnt with so little conscious
effort that it is quite possible to take this pre-
caution habitually, without being aware of the fact.
Habits which have been formed under the
influence of complexes are of greater interest to
the educator and will therefore be considered at
ii6 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
greater length. As we know, complexes are
centres of potential activity, and consequently set
free energy whenever they are stimulated by
suitable percepts or ideas. This energy must
find an outlet of some kind. Moreover, the well-
being of the individual as a whole demands that
that outlet should be one which the conscious self
can pass as meaningless or harmless, otherwise
the resulting activity will only relieve pressure in
the unconscious at the expense of shame in the
conscious. When an outlet of the right kind
has been found, it is therefore likely to become
habitual through frequent use.
The extent to which an individual acquires
habits under the influence of unconscious com-
plexes depends partly on himself and partly on
the traditions of his environment. The greater
the amount of self-control he has to exert, the
more likely is he to take refuge in repression, and
the more repressed complexes he has, the more
meaningless habits is he likely to acquire. In fact
the results of psycho-analysis seem to suggest that
a very large number of our unconsciously formed
habits owe their origin to repressed complexes.^
An example may make the process clearer.
^ Consciously formed habits may owe their origin indirectly
to complexes, for complexes can find relief through sentiments
acquired for that purpose. To discuss these would, however,
take us beyond the limits of this book. (Cf. account of little
Anna's interest in geography, p. 84.)
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 117
Under favourable conditions the child who is just
old enough to begin to look after himself gradually
learns to accept the joys of childish friendships,
and of construction and discovery, as substitutes
for the pleasure he derived from the undivided
attention of his mother. But until he has learnt
to " sublimate " his energy in these ways, he is
likely to experience the desire to be once again
a small and helpless baby. This desire cannot
come to consciousness without being repressed,
for it is contrary to his conscious wish to become
big and strong. It has therefore to find outlets
which are not recognised as such, and psycho-
analysis has shown that these outlets are often
thumb-sucking and nail-biting. As is well known,
these bad habits usually disappear without much
trouble as the child grows older, that is to say, as
he finds other more satisfying uses for his energy.
(When the habits persist into adolescence there is
every reason to believe that the child has somehow
failed to sublimate his energy and is therefore
in need of special treatment.)
We turn next to the mannerisms and tricks of
speech which we tend to learn from our environ-
ment without conscious effort. It can be shown
that these, too, are habits formed in the service of
unconscious complexes. Most of us can recall
occasions on which we grew half aware of a
quickly repressed wish that we could be content
ii8 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
to act like, or live with, certain other people. If
such a wish occurs just once, it may only be the
outcome of temporary conditions, but if it recurs
at intervals, there must be some permanent system
behind it, and since that system is not in the
conscious, we must look for it in the unconscious.
Hence the revival of a wish of this kind, when we
are fatigued or day-dreaming, may be taken as
a proof for the existence of the corresponding
complex. Given the complex, it must find a
means of expression, and mannerisms and tricks
of speech would serve its purpose admirably, just
because they are likely to be passed as harmless
and are yet such as to satisfy the unconscious
desire to make some effort to resemble the mem-
bers of the group in question. Thumb-sucking
is a case in point, for there can be little doubt that
it is a source of satisfaction to the unconscious of
the child because sucking is a characteristic and
highly pleasurable act of infancy. However, the
child who habitually sucks his thumb is by no
means aware of the origin of his habit ; he would
indignantly repudiate the suggestion that he was
trying to behave like a baby. (It may be well to
remind the reader that such facts as the origin of
thumb-sucking are discovered by the method of
Free Associations, and that they are not present
in consciousness until this method has been
applied. Cf. p. 8i.)
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 119
One further point needs consideration, that is
the tendency to adopt local expressions or man-
nerisms, not only without conscious effort, but
definitely, in spite of strong resolutions to the
contrary. In such cases the unconscious com-
plexes are evidently so powerful that they find an
outlet whenever the conscious self is not on the
watch. So long as the act in question is unfamiliar,
it attracts attention to itself on account of the
resistance which it has to overcome. But this
resistance decreases with repetition until the act
has become quite mechanical, and the conscious
self is, therefore, no longer able to inhibit it.
When this stage has been reached, the unconscious
complex has secured for itself an outlet which it
can use without hindrance, in spite of the fact that
it is unpleasing to the conscious self. The success
the complex has achieved in this way suggests
that it must have been very powerful, for only a
strong complex could have overcome the inhibition
by the conscious self again and again until it
finally succeeded in withdrawing its method of
expression from conscious control by making it
mechanical. Summarising the results of the last
few paragraphs, we may say that most unconsciously
acquired habits are formed in the service of complexes,
but some are also formed in the service of sentiments.
In conclusion, it should be observed that a habit
can rarely be the product of some one isolated
I20 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
tendency. Long before the end of childhood a
percept tends to stimulate more than one centre
of potential activity, and the resulting act is, there-
fore, due to a compromise between the forces that
have been set free by it. Hence it is not strange
to find that the habit which is formed in relation
to any particular set of circumstances can usually
be shown to be the product of more than one
sentiment or complex.
At times it looks as though a particular habit
must be due to " chance." This applies to such
acts as taking possession of a particular peg in a
cloak-room, or crossing the road at one particular
point on one's daily walk to one's work. When-
ever the reader feels tempted to interpret one of
his habits in this way, he should bear in mind that
" chance " is " an extremely complex system of
causes, of the general nature of which we are
aware, but of the detailed operation of which we
are ignorant " (Yule, Theory of Statistics^ p. 30),
and if he examines a fairly new habit of this kind,
he will, I think, always find that it owes its origin
to a number of circumstances, some of which he
is still able to recall.^
^ The reader should note that we are here only concerned
with the origin of habits. Thus, cycling is a consciously
acquired habit, because we practise it until we can do it mechani-
cally. If we analyse it, it involves a number of acts of skill,
most of which are learnt most easily without conscious analysis.
We arc, however, not concerned with methods of learning.
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 121
C. The Growth and Control of Consciously Acquired
Habits of Choice
It should be noticed that many of our habits are
in themselves complex. Thus, neatness in written
home-work implies both a certain amount of skill
in the control of pen and ink, and readiness to set
aside sufficient time for the work. The former is
a matter of skill, the latter a matter of choice, and
both must be rendered mechanical, if a true habit
is to be formed.
Since we are mainly concerned with the growth
of character, it will be convenient to omit the
more detailed study of habits of skill and to con-
fine ourselves to the study of habits of choice for
the rest of this chapter.
(i) Rules for Acquiring Habits with Minimum of
Effort. — It will be remembered that every habit
is physiologically a path of weak resistance for
nervous energy. Hence the growth of a habit
is aided by every act which ensures the further
weakening of the selected path, and it is hindered
by any act which lays the foundation for a rival
path. Moreover, the resistance is greatest the
first time the energy is forced along a new path,
An act of skill, or any other habit, is acquired consciously if it
is formed in response to a definite desire on the part of the
conscious self. Whether this end is attained most easily by
means of conscious analysis or by the " try, try again " method,
makes no difference to its origin.
122 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
and decreases every time that path is used. If
we bear these points in mind, we shall have no
difficulty in formulating the rules for acquiring
a habit with the minimum of effort. These are
four in number :
(i) Since the resistance is greatest at the begin-
ning, it is well to use a moment of enthusiasm for
the first effort whenever a difficult habit has to be
acquired.
(ii) Since every act slightly decreases the resist-
ance to it on the next occasion, it wastes both
time and energy to allow an exception to occur
until the desired habit has become firmly
established.
(iii) We have still to consider the treatment of
undesirable habits. These may have been formed
consciously or unconsciously, but once they have
come into existence they only concern us as paths
of weak resistance which we do not wish the
nervous energy to use. Clearly, it is not suffi-
cient to check ourselves in the act, for the nervous
energy must find an outlet somewhere. The best
thing to do is to adopt some one other line of
action and to repeat this whenever we are aware
of the stimulus, until it involves less resistance
than the one to which we object. In other words,
we can only cure an undesirable habit by associat-
ing another stronger habit with the same
stimulus.
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 123
(iv) Finally, the amount of resistance the new
habit encounters depends in part on the extent to
which it satisfies the same sentiments and com-
plexes as the old. It is therefore always worth
while to discover the cause which was mainly
responsible for the undesirable habit before decid-
ing how to replace it. In some cases, such as that
of thumb-sucking, it may then be found wise to
remove the cause, instead of, or as well as, tackling
the habit directly.
(2) The Effect of Indecision on the Growth of
Habits. — Sometimes the difficulty which is experi-
enced in forming a new habit is due to the fact
that the individual has not clearly made up his
mind what habit he actually wants to acquire.
The way in which this lack of decision affects the
development of habits of choice has been studied
experimentally by Dr. Boyd Barrett in connection
with the evolution of motivation. For a full
description of this interesting investigation, the
reader is referred to the book. Motive Force and
Motivation Tracks. Here we shall only be able
to give what is essential for the present purpose.
The method of investigation was as follows : —
Eight colourless liquids were prepared, such as
to vary in taste from very unpleasant to very
pleasant. Each of these was given a nonsense
name [e.g. ziv), so as to avoid complications
introduced by chance associations with this or that
124 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
word. The first part of the experiment consisted
in teaching the subjects {i.e. the men who did the
experiment) to associate each name with the right
taste. After this the main part of the work was
begun. In this each subject had to choose the
better of two given liquids, drink it, and imme-
diately afterwards give a full description of all
that had passed in his mind during the act of
choice. This introspection (as such a description
is usually called) was taken down verbatim by the
experimenter. Besides this, the time taken for
each act of choice was measured by a special
instrument, called the Vernier Chronoscope, which
measures intervals of time correct to 'ooi of a
second. There were three subjects, all thoroughly
experienced in introspection, and between them
they were responsible for 574 experiments, in
which the liquids were paired in different ways,
each pair recurring at intervals. In this way habits
of choice were gradually established for each pair
of liquids. The evolution of such habits could
therefore be studied in the introspections of the
subjects. For a full account of these the reader is
once again referred to Boyd Barrett's book. Here
only two cases will be given : {a) one in which the
choice was easy and, (J?) one in which the choice
was difficult.
{a) The results obtained in the first case are
given in Table I. It represents experiments
C/2 *-'
CO i«
-M
V
U
^
»
H
f^
O
«
ffi
ii
Cfl
f3
^
m
T3
CL,
;5
Void
Designation
Presence of word
Void
c
s
3
1— >
"Not this"
"That's right"
" It's the other "
"It's the other"
" It's possible "
"It's well"
" It's the other "
_3
>
o
+ 1 +
- 1 +
+
+
.S
1
Pleasure and
Certitude.
J3
"55 -S S/'
i. rt c5
S 'o'o "
ri o o
■s ■" w
12 rt ts
fe o o o
C4 O O O
c/3 hJ h-5 H
"Mr'i^, ►-r)r<-iT^
H-l rt
■ti -t-i tiO
^ Cd TO
'-C -n T3 , ,
& o o o
rt o o o
S2 rt
O
o
"MrO'^ i-.MrOTf-
2 cs
USt3
a)i-J
h-1
o
o
H
M N ro rt
v.S
O
SO
Ox
O
tfl
o
o
u
U
1
I
h-^ t;
»
S
z
pq
HH
iz;
O
o
M
?;
^N
>^
^
^
O
d
X
>
in
I2/J
hH
Ul
h- 1
o
U
hJ
(J
n
a.
<:
o
H ^
u
9
C
O
4-*
c
rt
3
>
o c
>
"o
>
o Si
o
kJ
hJ
't-l
_>,
c
i
o
c
c
s
•a
ni
el
l!
O
4-1
M
"3
C 3
-r
M
3
w o
C4
•" lU ^ -_
■<-> ,
fc
1—1
,o
"C M W)§
S fc^^
Z'b
*«
.!2
O 1> !>
s^^
^■■^
"o
HU
U
HH h^ t-H HH
hhH
H
<4M
J3
o
1
1
,
■*-' 4>
to
V u
4-1
^C
s>g
£
TJ «
bo
^1
s
41
_C
■«§
^
4-.'o
0"^
s
b
oj a.
o
.tj;g
E'^g'
O rt
".£
Pi
pL,
(5
J
4-1 Im
■«-• 4^
• »-< (]J
3 P
^«
S 9
en
O rt
^ rC
V
rt
O 6/3
rt .«
s
C
1
■" C
13 O
4-*
o
o U
> ^
i
o
4-<
^C
C "
T!
3 C
c
III ti
3
^ s >^
s » ^
"s"-t1
^u =
ii
ctf c< d 2
rt cj c<i
K_^ 2
W
tncn^n c
u^imn
-— . -^"^
> « J? 2 2 -o
js 2*2
5 o o
l-H N '~^5
►« M rn
cJdHO
Reaction
time in
seconds.
OS
f^
*-i
00
"-1
»-i
m
t^
t^
N
"9
o .
9,
o
fn
o
ro
HH
iH
o
■5 X
>
u
o
u
O
u
V
<u
H
Z
Q
Q
Q
^
<- a-S a
o ^
c ■"
.2 «
D..9
o — T)
JJ 3
cj
B
j: >
tA
-;, O 5
« M —
XJ g o "^
M 3 O C
3 o u S:
rt u S CI,
1-J eS
" S ° o
u
o
o
2i'
J= c
o
O
a
O tn
ti3 5.2 Ji o
ir: 'r; -a &.'^
ssion is useless
finish it
t drink
t drink it
t drink it
IV C better
id L made
ice difficult
ore, but this
11 not happen
in
he morefanii-
e is easy
tempt to refer
to the other
U
iscu
et's
mus
can'
mus
kno
loic
o at
one
V
Oh-Ihh
1 S
CJ Cj
U^
H
3
O
X
h4
a
S
V
biO
e4
ki <-•
3 Ul
O 3
u bU
U) (/J
QQ
c
c
o
o
o o
O 1)
♦J C u
u' •£
C e O
73 O Ji
H
^ ^
6
CJ ^
,then
rank
s
o
■4if
C 3
u -^
:3
1— I w _^
43 C3
hJ5
c ;^.ti
COO
c.y
', the
C vei
C w
,theri
C
away
, the
eyes
C qui
, the
C qu
^^■^
^-^•-
^'S--'
^^-^
^ S 5
^ c ^
> ^ o
^ "rt
J5Ha
;^
i_^
r^
o S
o
•I
On
■^
HH
'
00
t
o
M
<S
en
•
a
B
B
^
OS
(«
<4
,""
)— »
<— >
►^
'^
S
o
3
c4
00
00
128 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
Nos. 28, 42, 63, 84 and 90. These took place on
December 3, 7, 12, 19 and 20 respectively. Of
the two liquids, "Jor" was pleasant, " Laix "
unpleasant. There was therefore no difficulty of
choice.
If we examine the table, we notice the following
points : —
(i) The reaction times decrease from approxi-
mately 1*2 seconds to '8 second and then again
to '4 second.
(2) The structural phenomena are reduced to
a minimum. After the third experiment the
subject only looks at each liquid once before he
makes his choice.
(3) The physical phenomena disappear with
the exception of the one essential judgment, such
as "It's the other."
(4) Feelings of pleasure and the reverse dis-
appear even more readily than other phenomena.
In other words, automatic choice means economy
both of time and of nervous energy.
{b) Table II gives a case in which choice was
difficult, " Laix " and " Choux " being both so
exceedingly unpleasant that neither was ever
chosen unless pitted against the other. As will
be seen from the table, the introspection show all
the signs of hesitation, with the annoyance and
weariness that attends it. The hesitation begins
in choice 3, develops through choices 4, 5 and 6,
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 129
and is finally overcome in the course of the last
three experiments.
The main points to be noticed in the first six
introspections are : —
(i) The irregularity in the reaction times,
which show two increases, each followed by a
decrease, instead of the regular decrease that
was obtained when the choice was easy (cf.
Table I).
(2) The inconsistency in choice, /. e. the fact
that"Laix" is taken twice, then '* Choux " seven
times. As shown above, every action lays the
foundation for the corresponding habit. Thus
even to take " Laix " twice would be sufficient to
form a slight tendency to choose it, and would
therefore make it a little more difficult to form a
habit of selecting " Choux." Thus inconsistency
of choice causes delay and waste of energy.
(3) The amount of oscillation from one to
the other and the feelings of regret and annoy-
ance that were recorded. These, too, would be
responsible for much waste of energy.
The way in which the tendency to hesitate was
finally overcome will be evident from introspection
7. This shows that the subject : (i) consciously
avoided oscillation by fixing his eyes on " Laix,"
and (2) strengthened his motive for choosing
" Choux " by appealing to the general principle
" take the more familiar."
K
I30 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
Finally, the success of this method is evident
from the fact that the choice was felt to be easy
once it had been adopted. (See introspections for
Feb. I and Feb. 8.)
To sum up, the development of a habit of
choice is hindered by: (i) careless, hurried or
irresponsible acts of choice, and (2) regrets,
annoyance, etc., over past choices. It is therefore
well to formulate clear scales of value, whenever
this is at all possible, and to appeal to some general
principle when it seems impossible to decide
between the different alternatives on any other
ground. If we do this on the first occasion, we
shall feel that we have a good motive behind
our choice, and shall therefore not feci tempted
to change our line of action after we have laid
the foundation for a habit. In cases where
choice is difficult, this will mean an appreciable
saving both of time and of energy.
(3) The So-called *' Transference " of Habits. —
When we train children at school in neatness,
punctuality, etc., we do so partly in order to make
school-work possible, but mainly in the hope
of providing our pupils with a nucleus of habits
which they will find useful throughout life. It is
therefore very important for us to know under
what conditions our efforts are likely to meet with
success in this respect.
It must be borne in mind that a habit is merely
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 131
an acquired tendency to act in one particular way
in response to one particular stimulus. If, then,
we change the stimulus, we thereby cause the
nervous energy to take a different path, and have
consequently no right to expect that we can still
obtain the habitual reaction. Thus punctuality
at school is in itself no guarantee for punctuality
out of school. If the habit has only been formed
in relation to school, it should theoretically only
function in relation to school.
This theoretical conclusion is in ap-recment with
the results obtained by Squire^ in an experiment
conducted to " determine whether the habit of
producing neat papers in arithmetic will function
with reference to neat written work in other
subjects." She found that "the results were
almost startling in their failure to show the
slightest improvement in language and spelling
papers, although the improvement in arithmetic
papers was noticeable from the first." (See
Bagley, Educative Process^ I905) Chapter XIII,
p. 208.)
Yet, in spite of theory and in spite of experi-
ment, we know that this is not a correct statement
of the case. It is true that many a habit carefully
fostered at school is lost in adult life, but many
another survives, and though most persons are
only neat in this or that, yet there are undoubtedly
a certain number whom one could correctly
132 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
describe as " neat all round." There must there-
fore be some force at work which we have not
yet considered.
The problem will be made clearer by reference
to an experiment of Ruediger^ which forms the
complement of that of Squire} Ruediger set out
to discover whether " the ideal of neatness brought
in connection with, and applied to one school sub-
ject functions in other school subjects." What
exactly this is intended to imply becomes clear by
referring to the first three of the instructions he
gave to the teachers who were responsible for the
training.
These are as follows : —
" (i) In the written work, of one school subject
pay all the attention you can both to the habit and
to the ideal of neatness. Demand neat papers,
have them re-written when necessary.
" (2) Talk frequently with the class on the
importance of neatness in dress, business, the
home, hospitals, etc., connecting it as far as you
can with the subject under experiment.
" (3) Do not bring up the subject of neatness in
connection with the other studies at school. If
the pupils bring up these studies, quietly substitute
something else. . . ."
It is clear from this that Ruediger aimed at
^ The Indirect Improvement of Mental Functions through
ldit3\%, Educational Review, November 1908.
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 133
developing a general desire for neatness as well
as the habit of doing neat work in one particular
subject. The result he obtained in this way is
given by the following extract from the same
paper : —
" Evidently neatness made conscious as an ideal
or aim in connection with only one school subject
does function in other school subjects. Directing
our attention to groups i and 3 (the training
was unsatisfactory in group 2), the most marked
improvement of the papers occurred respectively
in geography and arithmetic, the subjects in which
neatness was emphasised, but there was un-
questionable improvement on the average also in
other subjects."
If we now compare Squire's experiment with
that of Ruediger, we see that the vital difference
between them is the difference in the generality
of the desire that was used by the two experi-
menters. Clearly desire must have played its
part in Squire's experiment, though no special
mention is made of the fact. Otherwise there
could have been no improvement in the work of
the children. The interesting point is that the
training these children were given was calculated
to make them want to improve in arithmetic alone,
and that this was, in fact, the only subject in which
their work did become neater. Similarly, the
improvement was more general in Ruediger's
134 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
experiment, because the desire that was stimulated
was more general in this case. In other words,
the children responded in each case to the training
that was given. The inculcation of a limited
desire produced a limited improvement, that of
a general desire a more general improvement.
Hence, when we see what appears to be a general
habit at work, we are really only observing the
total effect of a number of particular habits, each
one of which was acquired separately in order to
satisfy the more or less general desire which acted
as the common stimulus for all of them.
In any particular case, both the extent to which
a habit spreads and its permanence, must, there-
fore, depend on the desire which acts as stimulus
or motive force. A child may look upon, e.g.
punctuality as a rather superfluous virtue which
is for some reason exacted by school authorities.
He may yet be punctual at school, because he
desires the approval of his teachers or school-
fellows. It is, however, very unlikely that such
a child will "transfer" the habit to activities
connected with his home life, or that he will be
punctual of his own accord once the pressure of
school opinion has been removed.
In other words, new habits suited to a change
in environment will only be formed in so far as
the motive that was responsible for the original
habit is felt to be applicable to that environment.
THE GROWTH OF HABITS 135
Hence, the less a motive is bound up with any-
particular environment, the greater is the chance for
so-called transference. Evidently the conviction
that "this is worth doing for its own sake" is
likely to produce the most widespread results,
always assuming that it has real driving force
behind it. How such a conviction develops will
be discussed in the chapters on Character.
CHAPTER VII
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY
A. Emotion.
(i) The James-Lange Theory of Emotions.
(2) The Biological Value of Pleasure-toned Emotions.
(3) The Control of Emotions.
B. Sympathy.
(i) The Psychology of Pure Sympathy.
(2) The Possible Effects of Tendencies which Check
Imitation.
(a) IndiiFerence.
i>) Expression in Emotion.
(c) Desire to Help.
(3) The Growth of Sympathy in Childhood and Adolescence.
(a) The Importance of Personal Experience and
Imagination.
{i>) Problems connected with the Self-absorption of
the Adolescent.
(c) Problems connected with the Awkwardness and
Shyness of the Adolescent.
A. Emotion
(i) The James-Lange Theory of Emotions. — We
saw in Chapter II that certain of the impulses
may be accompanied by feeling tones so character-
istic that popular usage has given them definite
names. These are the emotions fear, anger, love,
136
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 137
hate, etc. They are states of mind with which
every one is familiar in greater or less degree.
Every one can therefore form some idea of their
constitution by examining emotional stages of his
own immediately after they have run their course.
If he does this, he will find that each characteristic
feeling tone is accompanied by physiological
changes within the body which are in some way
very closely connected with it. In the case of
acute fear, for instance, the victim of the emotion
trembles violently, he becomes covered with cold
sweat, the hairs on the skin stand erect, his
heart beats wildly and his breathing is hurried
and irregular. If the fear is less extreme, the
symptoms arc, of course, not so well marked,
but even then we can often tell that a certain
person is frightened by what we call his " ex-
pression," that is to say, by the external bodily
changes which form part of the system of the
impulse to avoid danger. Indeed, so closely is
the emotion connected with the bodily and vis-
ceral changes that accompany it, that it has been
suggested that what we call emotion is really
only the effect these changes have upon the
mind. This is the physiological theory of emo-
tions. It was enunciated at about the same time by
James and Lange^ and is therefore usually called the
James-Lange Theory of Emotions. James states it
thus : " The bodily changes follow directly the
138 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
perception of the exciting fact, and our feeling of
the same changes as they occur is the emotion "
{Principles^ p. 449).
The main arguments in favour of this theory
are the following : —
{a) We may get widespread bodily effects before
the emotion is aroused. " If we abruptly see a
dark, moving form in the woods, our heart stops
beating and we catch our breath instantly and
before any articulate idea of danger can arise "
{Principles y p. 451).
{b) The bodily symptoms arc so much part of
the emotional state that there seems to be no
emotion left, if wc try to abstract from our
consciousness all feelings of these symptoms.
"Can one fancy the state of rage and picture
no ebullition in the chest, no flushing of the face,
no dilation of the nostrils, no clenching of the
teeth, no impulse to vigorous action, but in their
stead limp muscles, calm breathing and a placid
face } The present writer, for one, certainly can-
not. The rage is as completely evaporated as the
sensation of its so-called manifestations, and the
only thing that can possibly be supposed to take
its place is some cold-blooded and dispassionate
judicial sentence, confined entirely to the intel-
lectual realm, to the effect that a certain person
or persons merit chastisement for their sins "
{Principle Sy II, p. 452).
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 139
The main argument against the theory is
that it does not explain how different visceral
processes can produce the same emotion. "Why,
for instance, do some people turn red, others
white, with anger ? It is, however, possible that
the anger does, in fact, feel somewhat different
in the two cases. Clearly the question can only
be settled finally by means of experiments con-
ducted for that purpose, but the results that have
been obtained by different investigators are at
present too contradictory to enable us to arrive
at any conclusion. We may assume, then, that
emotions cannot exist without accompanying bodily
changes, but whether they are interdependent,
and, if so, in what way, are problems which still
await solution (cf. p. 108).
At the same time it is worth while to bear in
mind that expression can, at any rate, initiate mild
states of emotion and perpetuate strong ones. If
we frown, we get a momentary feeling of anger,
and if we can make ourselves " smooth the brow
and smile," the anger seems thereby to become
less.
(2) The BiologicdlValue of Pleasure-toned Emolions.
— The biological value of pleasure-toned emotions
is another problem which calls for solution. At
first sight anything beyond a keen desire to attain
the end of the impulse {e.g. to escape from
danger) would appear to be a hindrance rather
I40 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
than a help, seeing that it uses up energy which
might easily be expended more profitably. Every
one knows how fatal it is to lose one's head
at a critical moment, and to " lose one's head "
is really neither more nor less than to let one's
emotions gain the upper hand, that is to say,
to dissipate energy in emotional expression in-
stead of using it to select the best line of
action.
It should be noticed that it only depends
on the strength of an emotion whether it is
pleasant or unpleasant. We rather enjoy feeling
just a little afraid or just a little angry. We
tend to prolong such experiences, instead of seek-
ing to remove the cause of the emotion. As
the student of biology knows, inborn tendencies
which produce pleasure when expressed in action
are on the whole of advantage to the individual.
It is therefore not without good reason that a
slight emotion is pleasurable. To understand
what this reason may be, we need only recall
that an emotion is produced when more energy
is set free by the percept than is used in action,
and that energy which is set free in this way
normally seeks an outlet of some kind, so that
an emotion is produced when there is surplus
energy flowing through the nervous system. The
fact that a slight emotion is pleasurable is, in
short, Nature's way of teaching us to " think
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 141
before we leap," for it makes the time between
perception and reaction pleasurable, and thus
tempts us to prolong it when the need is not too
urgent. We shall realise the value of this by
considering what would happen if an individual
always experienced acute discomfort in the period
between perception and reaction. Under such
circumstances he would naturally strive to react
as quickly as possible. This would mean that he
would always choose the most obvious form of
reaction and would therefore find it very difficult
to adapt himself to a changing environment.
(3) 'The Control of Emotion. — While a slight
emotional state has thus an important function
to fulfil, the matter is very different when
action is delayed so long, or when the amount
of energy set free by the percept is so great,
that the individual is overwhelmed by his
emotions. In such a case the means by which
he tries to relieve pressure may act as safety-
valves for energy that would otherwise work
harm, but they do not, as a rule, help him to
attain the end of the impulse which was the
cause of the trouble. We are thus led to con-
sider the advisability of preventing this kind of
overflow by training children in self-control in
the matter of emotions.
The first thing to realise in this connection
is that an impulse cannot be killed. The nervous
142 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
energy which is set free by the percept may
be driven into desirable or into undesirable
channels, but it cannot be annihilated.
This may seem to be untrue at first sight,
for every adult has learnt to be indifferent to
experiences that would at one time have roused
fear, anger or curiosity. It is, however, easy
to show that this is due to a different cause.
To take a concrete example : When moving
staircases were first put into the stations of the
London Underground Railways, it was a common
occurrence to see people show real fear in step-
ping on or off these staircases, whereas most
persons do it quite mechanically to-day. Those
of us who had occasion to use these staircases
frequently found that the fear quickly became
slight enough to be nothing more than a little
pleasurable excitement, and that it soon dis-
appeared entirely. But this does not mean that
we had cured ourselves of our fear of danger.
What it means is that we had learnt from
experience exactly what to do and how to do
it. Thus the moving staircase ceased to be an
unknown object which might prove dangerous,
and in this way dropped out of the class of things
that rouse the impulse to avoid pain and the ac-
companying emotion of fear. The next unknown
thing that we have to face will undoubtedly again
cause fear if it seems likely to threaten our
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 143
safety. In other words, every increase in know-
ledge and power will remove certain experiences
from the class of things that rouse this or that
emotion, but when a percept or idea does fall
within a certain class, then it is impossible to
prevent ourselves from experiencing the corre-
sponding impulse.
It follows that we can never kill an emotion,
even if it were desirable to do so. All we
can do with an emotion which is liable to get
out of hand is to learn to control it, or to
repress it. Moreover, since the surplus nervous
energy has to escape in some form, it is obviously
wiser to guide it into useful, or at least harm-
less, channels than merely to block the outlet
Nature has provided and trust to luck that it
will escape without doing us injury. Hence mere
repression ought always to be discouraged. How
much self-control is desirable in a particular case
depends in the main on the traditions of the
community in which the individual has to live.
A person who is felt to be rather cold in one
environment is quite likely to be considered too
emotional in another. Yet, since self-control
prevents dissipation of energy, a certain amount of
it should undoubtedly be acquired by every person
who is not abnormally lacking in emotional life.
What exactly is involved in self-control can be
discovered partly through introspection, partly by
144 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
studying the behaviour of others. If we follow
these two lines of investigation, we shall, 1 think,
find that it is really a complex result which is
obtained by the co-operation of a number of
factors. Fundamental to all is the conviction
that self-control is desirable. But that alone is
not sufficient. The individual has to learn both
what to avoid and what to do before he is
able to acquire the habits of choice which will
give him the necessary command over himself.
Usually he is left to find out these things for
himself. Thus he discovers that a slight emotion
tends to disappear, if it is not allowed expression.
He may also learn that it is not safe to allow
himself the luxury of dwelling on a strong desire,
if he does not intend to satisfy it.
Then, too, he is likely to make certain dis-
coveries on the positive side, such as the im-
portance of keeping himself fully occupied when
he is trying to free himself from something that
is preying on his mind and the extent to which
a really interesting task will help him in this
connection. Besides this, he may learn con-
sciously to divert superfluous energy into suitable
channels, to " try, try again," instead of brooding
over failure. At any rate he probably acquires
certain methods of side-tracking energy while
the impulse is actually at work. Thus some
yawn when afraid, others sing when angry. It
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 145
is worth while to notice that people resort to
devices of this nature without being aware of
their purpose. Thus an individual may not
realise that there is a connection between, say,
his attempt to control his fear and his tendency
to yawn, but this does not, of course, make the
act any less effective as a safety-valve.
As devices of this nature are discovered they
tend to be adopted, with the result that habits
of choice grow up in relation to situations which
the individual has to encounter with sufficient
frequency. Thus self-control involves certain
habits and certain knowledge, as well as the
necessary desire. It should therefore not be
expected from young children. The educator
can, however, prepare the ground for it by
finding suitable safety-valves when impulsive
activity has to be checked, and by giving
practical advice when the child is old enough
to appreciate it. With preparatory training such
as this the adolescent would find himself in
possession of habits and knowledge which would
make it comparatively easy for him to acquire
true self-control — that is to say, power to divert
surplus energy into useful or at least harmless
channels.
B. Sympathy
If a boy comes upon a group of schoolmates
who look frightened, he also experiences a pang
146 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
of fear ; if they seem curious, he begins to wonder
what is happening. But if that same boy is
passing through the stage of despising girls, he
will pass a group of girls who look angry or
puzzled with a cursory glance and the conviction
that it is no concern of his. The same is, of
course, true of adults. We have all of us reason
to know that it requires a definite effort not to
become infected by the emotional state of any one
who in any sense of the word " belongs " to us,
even when we have no idea what is the cause
of his excitement. Yet the behaviour of people
outside our " group " leaves us indifferent, or even
arouses some contrary state of mind such as
amusement or annoyance. The tendency to " feel
with " other people is therefore closely bound up
with gregariousness. The larger and the more
numerous are the groups to which we feel we be-
long, the more often will this tendency be called into
play. Any individual who belongs to our group
for the purpose in hand will inevitably rouse it,
any one who does not will as certainly leave us
unaffected. It will be convenient to call this
tendency to feel with others of our own group pure
psychological sympathy^ in order to distinguish it
from sympathy in the popular sense of the word.
(i) ^he Psychology of ^^ Pure'' Sympathy. — We
have already seen that gregariousness (that is to
say, fear of solitude with or without the desire
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 147
for friends) tends to make us imitate the be-
haviour of others, and that this imitation extends
to emotion as well as action. We know from
our study of imitation that the reproduction of
the actions of others is due to the interaction of
one or other form of gregariousness with one or
more sentiments or complexes. We have now
to account for the reproduction of emotional
states. It seems probable that this is primarily
due to our tendency to imitate the expression of
our companions, since it is sufficient to assume
the typical expression of an emotion {e.g. the
frown and the clenched fists of anger) in order
to experience the same to a slight extent. But
this does not explain whence we derive the energy
to feel furiously angry as a member of an angry
crowd when we do not even know the cause of
the disturbance. Nor does it explain why or
how we learn to notice so small a thing as the
expression of another.^
The tendency to notice the expression of others
is probably acquired during childhood under the
pressure of the self-preservative impulses. A
child is dependent on others for most of the
good things of life and he usually finds out at
^ We must become aware of an act before we can imitate
it, but such awareness need not necessarily be conscious.
It may be due to the activity of some unconscious com-
plex (cf. Chapter. IV, p. 96). Both these points are therefore
in need of further consideration.
148 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
9. comparatively early age that it often only
depends on the mood of his elders whether
they give or withhold the necessary facilities for
some exploit. Thus he soon discovers that the
moods of others are worthy of consideration. It
may be that experience would gradually teach him
to connect certain expressions with certain moods,
but as a matter of fact he is rarely left to his own
resources in this respect. " Don't worry Father,
can't you see that he is tired ? " makes him at
least try to " see," and " We can risk this to-day,
Mr. X is obviously in a good temper," makes him
anxious to acquire similar wisdom when the pre-
diction turns out to be correct. Once the desire
has been aroused, the rest is a matter of learning
by trial and error. At first many mistakes are
made, but there is no lack of practice and the
child of seven or eight is often already quite
expert in interpreting such forms of expression
as come within his experience.
The strength which an induced emotion can
acquire in a crowd can be explained in the
following way. As we know, we produce a
slight feeling of anger in ourselves by assuming
the characteristic expression of anger, that is to
say, we stimulate the system of impulse to fight
by this means. If our expression is due to the
fact that we are imitating the members of a crowd
of which we form part, then our gregariousness
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 149
is active and the resulting desire (conscious or
unconscious) to be like the others provides
energy for the impulse to fight. Self-regard
may be stimulated as well, if the persons whose
anger induced ours happen to belong to a group of
which we are rather proud to be members, for it is
then impossible to own that they are in the wrong
without at the same time hurting our self-respect.
Thus a number of powerful sentiments and com-
plexes may reinforce the original feeling of anger.
(2) Possible Effects of Tendencies which Check
Imitation. — (a) Indifference. What happens there-
after depends on circumstances. We may allow the
energy to take its primitive path : then we imitate
the behaviour of our companions without giving
a thought to the why and wherefore. If they
fight, we fight ; if they run away, we run away.
In such a case all the energy of the group will be
expended in action, and there will then be little
or no emotion. On the other hand, there may be
no such outlet. Thus the crowd which is listen-
ing to an orator who is enfiaming it with a desire
to fight for some cause, has no outlet in action,
because the enemy is not at hand. Hence the
energy which is being set free takes the only path
that is open for it, namely, that of anger and its
expression. Moreover, the anger of any indi-
vidual is fed by the anger of his neighbours if he
identifies himself with the crowd.
I50 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
Suppose, however, that some of the members
of the audience feel superior to the rest of the
crowd, that they have little belief in the orator,
or enough knowledge to be aware that some of
his statements are not accurate. Clearly these will
remain calm and critical throughout the harangue,
or, if stirred at all, will only be aware of a desire
to oppose the orator. They do not acknov/ledge
him as their leader, and are therefore not in-
fluenced by him. They do not acknowledge
the crowd as one of their "groups," and are
therefore not infected by its excitement.
(b) Expression in Emotion. — We may, however,
*' feel with " our companions and yet check the
impulse to act like them. In that case there are
two courses open to us : we may either decide to
do nothing at all, or we may use our energy to
help them in some way.
If we do nothing, the energy which has been
set free tends to escape by the channel of
emotional expression, since that is the only one
which is open to it. As we shall see later, this
provides us with a valuable source of recreation
by enabling us to " live through " the emotions
depicted in a work of fiction or engendered by
the perception of beauty, without forcing us to
express ourselves in action (cf. Passive Play,
p. 225). On the other hand, it is not for the
good of the community that an individual should
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 151
get into the habit of finding relief in emotion,
since such a course can only end in self-indulgence
and sentimentalism.
(c) Desire to Help. — If we are conscious of a desire
to help our companions, the energy which was set
free by observing them must have been diverted
to stimulate the protective impulse. In such a
case we may be stirred so deeply that we act first
and think afterwards. As a rule there is, how-
ever, time for the self to wake up, and it then
depends on the idea we have of our '* self " whether
we are willing to make the necessary sacrifice.
If the cost is not too great, we allow the impulse
to take its normal path, and consequently give
help of some kind (cf. Protective Impulse, p. 42).
Otherwise we check our desire to help and
expend the energy that has been set free in
various forms of emotional expression, such as
assurances of what we would do, if we could.
It should be noticed that the sympathy which
expresses itself in a desire to help always implies
a certain degree of superiority on the part of the
giver. At that moment he is, at any rate, not in
the same difficulty ; the fact that he would like to
help is sufficient to prove that. Moreover, if he
allows the impulse free play, he provides so much
more food for his self-assertion. Hence, giving
without receiving in return is likely to lead to
patronage, if not to pity. True practical sympathy
152 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
only exists between equals, that is to say, between
persons who are able and willing to help each
other.
Within our own group we respect our superiors,
sympathise with our equals and pity our inferiors.
Outside our own group we are dealing with
creatures we do not know, with beings with whom
we have nothing in common. They do not stir
our gregariousness and are therefore unable to
awaken our sympathy. If they seem dangerous,
we avoid them ; if they seem weak and defence-
less, we ignore them or use them to satisfy our
love of power. When we are dealing with
members of our own group sympathy often forces
us to restrain ourselves. Here there is no such
check. They are so different from us that we
are unable to feel with them. If challenged, we
should probably assert quite honestly, " Oh, they
don't mind," or, " It does not hurt them as
it would you or me." This is the attitude of
mind which accounts for much of the cruelty of
young boys. It is true that an act of cruelty
is occasionally a form of revenge. If a child is
repressed on every side and feels in revolt
against his environment, he may suddenly dis-
cover that he can find relief for his feelings by
maltreating a cat or a dog. Such a child may
learn to enjoy watching the fear and suffering
of his victims. But these cases are fortunately
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 153
rare. In most cases cruelty is simply due to
thoughtlessness combined with self-assertion.
The animal does not rouse the sympathy of the
boy, because his groups are not yet wide enough
to include it, and he can therefore ill-treat it
without being checked by any feeling of remorse
at the suffering he is causing. Obviously, cruelty
of this kind can be prevented by awakening
the boy's power to " feel with " the creature
in question. In this way it is usually possible
to turn the persecutor into quite an effective
protector.
In dealing with the inferior members of our
ov/n groups we are not likely to be guilty
of intentional cruelty, in spite of our feeling
of superiority, because psychological sympathy
makes us " feel with " them in their troubles.
Moreover, self-assertion prevents us from imi-
tating them and we must therefore cither vent
our energy in emotion or use it in giving help
of some kind. Most people would, however,
agree that serious harm is at times done by the
help which is given in this way. This is due
partly to self-assertion and partly to ignorance.
As the recipients are our inferiors, we are prepared
to find them different in some ways, and it Is
therefore easy for us to salve our conscience with
the reflection that they " will not mind " when
we are tempted to give help which will satisfy
154 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
our love of power at the expense of their self-
respect. Moreover, it is only in the wider groups,
such as those comprised by humanity and
nationality, that we acknowledge them as comrades.
In other respects they belong to groups about
which we know nothing and for which we have
consequently no sympathy. We are therefore
unable to appreciate their needs as clearly as
those of our equals and are consequently in
danger of giving the wrong kind of help even
when actuated by the best of motives. In short,
the giver needs knowledge and self-control, if his
help is to be of real use to the recipient. From
the point of view of comm.unity life, it is
therefore very important that young people
should be trained to use their protective impulse
to the best advantage. How far this is secured
by encouraging them to contribute to public
charities is at least open to question (cf . Protective
Impulse, pp. 42-45).
(3) The Growth of Sympathy in Childhood and
Adolescence. — Before concluding, it will be worth
while to study the factors on which the growth of
sympathy depends.
I shall begin with pure psychological sympathy.
As we have just seen, this is the tendency to
reproduce in ourselves the emotions which are
being experienced by our companions. Thus the
frequency with which an individual " feels with "
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 155
others depends primarily on the number of
persons who are able to stimulate his gregarious-
ness. This must in turn depend on the strength
of the underlying sentiments and complexes, but
the range of persons with whom he is able to
sympathise can be greatly increased by providing
him with suitable experience and by encouraging
him to bring his imagination to bear on the
problems which are raised by the conduct of
others.
The Importance of Personal Experience and
Imagination. — The need for personal experience
becomes obvious when we reflect that we have to
gather the mental states of others from their
expression and their words. We can only see
what we know. It is true that we tend to put
some meaning into every act and word of our
companions, but it is the meaning which is most
in accord with our own experiences and it may
therefore be hopelessly incorrect.
Children often give us an opportunity to realise
this. They do not " see " when the adult is
worried or tired, they do not understand when
he tries to explain his point of view to them :
A harassed peasant farmer is driven by the
need for sympathy to tell his little daughter of
five that he is going to clear a piece of waste
ground single-handed. The child is greatly
flattered by her father's confidence and vaguely
156 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
aware that there is something wrong, but his
hopes and worries are quite beyond her. Anxious
to show her interest, she finally asks : " And how
about the bird-nests, father ? " (Bazin).
In childhood we are only able to " feel with "
persons whose lives are very similar to our own ;
but this is no longer the case as we grow older,
for we gradually accumulate enough experience to
be able to build from it or " imagine " the mental
state of persons whose problems are somewhat
different from any we have had to tackle.
During adolescence the individual should
therefore greatly extend the range of his sym-
pathies. In practice there are, however, great
differences in the extent to which this is actually
achieved. For some a chance word or a headline
in a newspaper is presently sufficient to rouse
them, others need a detailed account, or even the
outward signs of joy or suffering to awaken their
sympathy, and a certain number never learn to
" feel with " any one whose life is at all unlike
their own. No doubt this is partly due to inborn
differences : the more gregarious a person is, the
more readily is he interested in the doings of
strangers ; the more imaginative he is, the easier
does he find it to sympathise with them. All
the same it is the environment which decides
what use a particular adolescent learns to make
of his powers, for he will check or indulge his
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 157
natural interest in another according to the
standards of behaviour of those he admires, and
he will do his best to understand the point of
view of an inferior or rest satisfied with un-
imaginative patronage according to the example
they set him.
The extent to which we experience " practical
sympathy," or a desire to help those in difficulty
instead of merely " feeling with " them, is clearly
dependent on similar factors. Innate differences
in the strength of the protective impulse must
play their part, but the traditions absorbed from
the environment are usually far more important.
The Self-absorption of the Adolescent. — The reader
may have noticed that the sympathies of the
adolescent usually develop by fits and starts. At
times he is keenly interested in the doings of
others, at times wholly self-absorbed and only
able to see things from his own point of view.
This is probably unavoidable. Self-preservation
impels us to look after ourselves first of all.
Hence the success or failure of a companion
appeals to us primarily as something which might
have happened to ourselves. It is true that we
" feel with " the other, but we do not rest
satisfied with that, if we are at all likely to be in
the same position ourselves some day. In such
a case our self-regard promptly makes us wonder
how we should have acted under similar circum-
158 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
stances. Moreover, if we are compelled to admit
to ourselves that wc should have been unable to
cope with the situation, it causes us to look upon
the event as a personal warning, and thus impels
us to do our utmost to acquire the qualities which
we consider necessary. The adolescent is often
in this position, for he is continually hearing or
reading about things which might fall to his
lot some day and which would certainly find
him unprepared. Besides, he occasionally has un-
pleasant experiences of his own. Hence it is not
strange to find that there are times when he
needs all his energy for the solution of his own
problems. When a youth is going through a
phase of this kind he may become irritable and
difficult, for the emotional strain can be very
great and he is often only half aware of what is
going on within him. In the right environment
he is, however, all the better for his spell of
egotism. Sooner or later he finds relief in hard
intellectual work, in religious exercises, or in a
combination of the two. Then his " self "
gradually becomes less absorbing and he is once
again able to think of others.
We may take it, then, that the periods of self-
absorption to which the adolescent is liable are
due to his efforts to prepare himself for adult life.
The difficulties with which he is faced at such
times make him peculiarly sensitive to the opinion
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 159
of those he admires ; yet he rarely confides in
them, for his thoughts are so vague and his fear
of ridicule is so great that he usually finds it
impossible to express himself in words. Hence
it is often extremely difficult to know what kind
of help to give. All the same, it is not wise to
leave him entirely to his own resources when he
is passing through one of these phases.
The intelligent youth soon discovers that the
pursuit of knowledge or art can be very attractive
for its own sake. As a rule he also finds that
people rather respect him for his love of study,
and that he can therefore always plead " work "
when he wants to escape from some tiresome
social obligation. Hence he is liable to become
excessively self-centred, if he is allowed to think
that no one has any claim on his time so long as
he is doing his work properly.
Moreover, it is not always love of study that
renders a youth self-absorbed, often it is rather
fear of life that makes him take to study as a way
out of his difficulties. This fear may be due to
the example set by some one he admires, or to
some shock he has experienced himself. In either
case he is seldom aware of the bearing it has on
his love of study. Often he does not even know
that he is afraid, for he represses the unpleasant
thoughts again and again under the influence of
shame, and usually ends by " forgetting " them so
i6o THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
far as his conscious self is concerned. Unfortu-
nately this does not mean that he has thereby
conquered his fear of life, since that can only be
done by facing the unpleasant experience squarely
(cf. Complexes, p. 86). As we have already seen,
the fear is merely driven below the surface of
consciousness and is able to^ affect his behaviour
as much as ever. Still, he has gained a certain
amount in personal comfort. He has forgotten
all about it, and can therefore honestly persuade
himself that his dislike for social intercourse is
merely a matter of " taste." Usually he goes a
step further and decides that those who differ
from him in this matter are both frivolous and
superficial. Once this stage has been reached he
is quite safe from painful recollections, for the
opinions of those others cease to be worthy of his
notice. Henceforth he can concentrate on his
own development without a single qualm of con-
science. Needless to say, the result is likely to
be an individual who is both self-centred and
narrow-minded.
It is difficult to deal with a case of this kind in
its later stages, because the individual is perfectly
satisfied with the course he has mapped out for
himself. Ideally the emotional shock should, of
course, have been avoided. Failing that, its
effect can be minimised by giving the adolescent
an opportunity to " talk it out " with a sympathetic
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY i6i
elder before he has begun to repress it. This,
too, is often impossible, for pride usually impels a
youth to keep his fears to himself. Thus he may
have time to build up his defences fairly securely
before we discover that there is anything amiss.
In such a case a direct frontal attack is useless,
for he does not consider himself at fault. It may,
however, be possible to influence him indirectly
through his environment. If he finds himself
among people whose efficiency in his chosen
pursuits is greater than his own, and who yet
consider it wrong to allow their work to absorb
all their thoughts, he may begin to wonder
whether he has planned his own life wisely and
may thus be led to try to overcome his dislike for
social intercourse. Whether he succeeds in this
will then depend on the amount of hold his fear
has got over him. He may be able to conquer it.
On the other hand, it may check him at every
turn, making it impossible for him to " feel with "
any one whose tastes are at all unlike his own.
If he fails, there is still one other way of helping
him. The forgotten fear can be brought back to
his consciousness in the way that was described in
Chapter IV (see p. 78). He can then be made
to see the bearing it has on his other difficulties,
and can thus be taught the importance of fighting
it in the open. He may even then need en-
couragement from some one he respects, to make
M
1 62 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
him persist in his efforts, but with that he is
almost certain to overcome his dislike in the end.
The Awkwardness and Shyness of the Adolescent. —
Sometimes the development of the sympathy of
an adolescent is checked in a different way. He
does not consciously turn away from others, but
he is practically driven from their presence by
his awkwardness and shyness. He trembles and
turns red in the presence of strangers, he may
even begin to stammer — in fact, he shows all the
signs of fear. It is easy enough to convince such
a one that his fear of strangers is illogical, but
that does not help him, for it does not touch the
true cause of his difficulties. As analysis shows,
that is always an experience which happened perhaps
years ago and which was repressed at the time,
instead of being faced openly. Thus J)r. Bruce
gives us the following account of a young man
who suffered from this extreme form of shyness :
From among the half-forgotten memories of his
boyhood there appeared the picture of his first
employer — a stern, cold, hard man with piercing
eyes. " Those eyes seemed to be on me every-
where I went. They seemed to be watching for
the least mistake I made. I began to wonder
what would happen to me if I did make mistakes.
Then I began to feel incompetent, and to fear that
he would notice my incompetency. I grew
nervous, awkward, timid. Whenever he spoke
EMOTION AND SYMPATHY 163
to me I jumped, I blushed, I trembled. After a
time I did the same when anybody spoke to
me. ... I try not to think of him, but 1 know I
do" [Handicaps of Childhood^ Y*. 179).
In this instance the individual was cured by
persuading him that the behaviour of his employer
was the real cause of his difficulties, but that it
need not affect him any longer and that he would
therefore be able to conquer his shyness, if he
made a serious attempt to do so.
Whenever a case of this kind is analysed,
similar results seem to be obtained. We may
therefore conclude that the extreme forms of
shyness and self-absorption are usually, if not
always, due to the repression of some painful
incident which should have been tackled at the
time of its occurrence.
CHAPTER VIII
THE PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER
A. The Effect of Individual Differences in : —
(1) Disposition.
(2) General Attitude towards Life.
(3) Will-power.
B. The Attainment of Strength of Character.
(i) The Importance of Organisation and of the Choice
of a Suitable Master-Sentiment.
(2) The Limitation of Will-power.
C. The Meaning of a " Fine" Character.
Character may be defined as the sum total
of all the tendencies which make for consistency
in behaviour. When we speak of a person as
lacking in character, we mean that he is abnor-
mally impulsive and unreliable. When we do
something foolish in a moment of excitement, we
seek an excuse in the fact that we were not
" ourselves " at the time. Thus the character of
an individual is seen most clearly in his deliberate
acts of choice.
As would be expected, the forces which deter-
mine his decision in such a case are partly innate
and partly acquired. They may be enumerated
as follows : (i) Such sentiments, complexes and
164
PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER 165
habits of choice or action as are involved at the
moment ; (2) his knowledge of the subject in
hand and of his own limitations ; (3) his intelli-
gence or ability to make use of what knowledge
he has ; (4) his general attitude towards life ;
(5) his disposition, and, in cases where there are
obstacles to overcome, (6) his will-power. Of
these, the forces classed together in (i) have
already been considered at sufficient length and
the value of knowledge and intelligence is too
obvious to need special discussion. We are thus
left with disposition, will-power, and the general
attitude towards life. These are of great import-
ance to the development of character and will
therefore have to be studied in some detail.
A. Certain Individual Differences
(i) Differences in Disposition. — The disposition
of a person depends on the peculiarities of his
impulses. It makes him irascible, timid or patient,
as the case may be. As Mr. Shand points out in
The Foundation of Character (p. 150), impulses
vary in : (i) the range of stimuli that can arouse
them ; (2) the quickness of response ; (3) the
delicacy of response, i.e. the amount of response
to the weaker stimuli ; (4) the intensity of the
response ; (5) the duration of the response.
All these can, no doubt, be somewhat improved
by practice ; thus the person who makes a special
1 66 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
effort to attend to weak stimuli will in time
improve in this respect, but it will be found
that such improvements will only take place
within comparatively narrow limits.
What exactly the physiological basis of dis-
position may be is as yet largely a matter of
conjecture, but it seems to be in some way closely
connected with the constitution of the nervous
system. Dr. Head has shown that lesions which
affect the control of the "optic thalamus" (a
portion of the lesser brain) by the greater brain
produce an increase in the intensity with which
stimuli are felt, and consequently in the corre-
sponding reaction. " If the experimenter's nails
gently scrape the subject's hand on the affected
side, the latter may withdraw his hand, crying
out, * It is a horrid sensation, as if my hand were
covered with spikes, and you were running them
in : it is not painful, only very unpleasant . . . '
Emotional experiences also are more pronounced
in their effect, leading to excessive reflex motor
activity on the affected side " (Myer's Text-hook^
p. 313). This suggests that differences in dis-
position depend in part on the way in which, and
on the extent to which, the greater brain controls
certain portions of the lesser.
(2) Differences in the General Attitude towards Life.
— The general way in which an individual regards
the problems he has to face depends to some
PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER 167
extent on his early environment. If a child has
cause to feel neglected at home, if he belongs to
a subject race or class, in short, if he feels at a
disadvantage in any way, he is for that reason
more likely to become pessimistic or suspicious.
If he suffers from poor health and is not able
to join in the games of the others, he is more
likely to become introspective. In all such cases
there is, however, something deeper which decides
the extent to which, and the way in which, a
particular ability or disability will affect the indi-
vidual. This fundamental something is physio-
logical in origin, and is conveniently studied under
the two headings of temperament and perseveration.
Temperament. — As is well known, all the organs
of the body throw chemical products into the
blood, and receive their nourishment from the
blood. This applies to the nervous system as
well as to any other. Any change in its food makes
it react differently and this in turn produces what
we call a change in temperament. The thyroid
gland furnishes, perhaps, the most striking instance
of the way in which the functioning of an organ
can affect temperament. This gland is a small
mass of cellular tissue, situated in the neck near
the " Adam's Apple." If it does not function
properly, the patient may be reduced to a state
of apathy bordering on idiocy, whereas too great
activity on its part may throw him into a state
1 68 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
of excitement verging on that of a maniac. That
it is really a secretion of this gland which can be
responsible for all this, is shown by the fact that
patients in whom the gland does not function
properly can, as a rule, be restored to a normal
state of mind by means of properly regulated
doses of the thyroid gland of sheep.
It is also an established fact that certain diseases
produce changes of temperament. Thus phthisis
tends to make a person more optimistic, diabetes
more pessimistic. It seems likely that this, again,
is due to the chemical products thrown into the
blood in consequence of the disease. In general
we are probably right in assuming that every
organ of the body affects our mental life to some
extent through the products which it throws into
the blood stream, and that the sum total of all
these factors is responsible for what we call our
temperament.
Perseveration. — This is the tendency for ideas
and images to recur in the mind when the
individual is making no conscious effort to recall
them and when their recurrence is not due to the
activity of some strong sentiment or complex.
This tendency is strong in some persons, weak
in others, but there is reason to believe that
no normal individual is entirely without it. Its
effect on behaviour is more far-reaching than may
appear at first sight. The individual in whom
PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER 169
ideas of all kinds recur readily is likely to grow
cautious and thoughtful, for experiences will tend
to " perseverate " for some time and will thus
have more chance of becoming fixed in his
memory. Such a person will make a reliable
leader when he has time to plan his course of
action, but he may lose his head if he has to act
on the spur of the moment. On the other hand,
the individual who has only a slight tendency to
perseverate is likely to forget past discomfitures
with greater ease. Hence he will tend to be
brilliant rather than thorough, daring rather than
wise.
(3) Differences in JVill-power. — Will-power?
may be defined as the power to strengthen a weak i
motive so as to make it predominate over its rival.
If I and P stand for conflicting motives, of which
I is the weaker, and E stands for the effort needed
to make I predominate, then the relation between
1, E and P can be represented symbolically as
follows : —
I per se < P ; I + E > P (James, Text-book of
Psychology^ p. 444).
It has been suggested by several writers that the
effort E comes from the self as a whole, and that
the power to make this effort is fundamental to
any consciousness of a " me " as an independent
individual.
Two important investigations into the psychology
lyo THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
of will-power should be studied in this con-
nection. These are those of (a) Dr. Ach and
{F) Drs. Michotte and Prum.
(a) The purpose of Dr. Aclis experiment was
to study what goes on within us when we try to
act on a decision which involves the conquest of a
contrary tendency, such as a strong impulse or a
well-established habit. He began by giving his
subjects pairs of non-rhyming syllables to memorise,
until strong associations had been formed between
the members of each pair. He then showed
them the first of each pair separately and asked
them to give a rhyme to each instead of giving
the syllable associated with it. Thus the process
was in every way similar to that gone through by
a person who has made up his mind to break a
certain habit by forming another definite habit
and has now to act on his decision. By making
the associations stronger in some cases than in
others, Dr. Ach was, moreover, able to distinguish
between the task of opposing a strong, and that
of opposing a weak, tendency. (In case it should
be suggested that the experiment did not produce
a " real " obstacle to overcome, it may be well
to state that success and failure were found
to produce definite feelings of pleasure and
unpleasure respectively. Moreover, each was
accompanied by expressive movements, such as
smiling, flushing, on the one hand, stamping and
PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER 171
exclamations of anger on the other.) For a full
discussion of the results, the reader must be
referred to Dr. Ach's book, Wilknsakt und
Temperament. For the present purpose, only the
following points need be noted : —
(i) When the opposition was strong the
introspections showed : —
{a) Feelings of strain, tension, etc.
{b) A definite consciousness of " 1 will, I
really wish," in the period immediately
preceding the act.
{c) A characteristic strengthening of the de-
termination, which seemed to be only
possible within certain limits, so that the
subject failed^ much to his own annoyance^
when the opposition was too strong.
(2) When the opposition was weak : —
{a) All feelings of strain disappeared, and
{F) The personal element dropped out and
there was, instead, merely the conscious-
ness of '* this must or shall be done."
Hence it would seem that we have a fund of
extra energy on which we can draw when we are
trying to overcome resistance, but that there are
definite limits to the amount which we can use in
this way at a given moment.
{h) The experiment of Drs. Michotte and Prum
was intended to study the psychology of that
other act in which we are conscious of an effort
172 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
of will, the act of choice. In this case, two
numbers were presented to the subject which he
might add or subtract, but whichever he chose he
had to have a " serious reason " for his choice.
Here again it is impossible to give more than the
main result of the experiment. This is, that the
subjects had in this case a consciousness of per-
sonally turning towards one of the alternatives,
a " consciousness of action " as the experimenters
called it. This "consciousness of action" was
felt to be something quite different from the feel-
ings of strain, etc., which these subjects also experi-
enced in cases of difficulty. Like the " I really
wish " of Dr. Ach's subjects, it seems to suggest
that "the self" is involved in a peculiarly intimate
way whenever true acts of will are performed.
The form in which we become conscious of this
appeal to the self was studied by Boyd Barren in
the course of the experiment which was described
at some length in Chapter VI. The introspections
obtained by him in cases in which choice was
difficult, showed that we either act on impulse (in
which case the result is not a " willed " choice in
our sense of the word) or appeal to a general
principle, such as " take the more familiar." In
other words, true acts of choice in which decision
is difficult are characterised by an appeal to an
idea which derives its energy more or less directly
from the self-regarding sentiment.
PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER 173
The " characteristic strengthening of the
determination" of Ach, the "consciousness of
action" of Michotte and Prum, the "appeal to a
general principle" of Boyd Barrett, all therefore
point to the same conclusion, namely, that our
will-power, /. e. the energy that makes it possible
for us to overcome resistance within ourselves,
is in some way derived from our self-regarding
sentiment. Dr. McDougall puts it thus : " We
may, then, define volition as the supporting or
re-enforcing of a desire or conation (/'. e. attempt
to act) by the co-operation of an impulse excited
within the system of the self-regarding sentiment "
{Social Psychologyy p. 249).
B. The Attainment of Strength of Character
(i) Organisation of Sentiments. — Since character
is that which makes for consistency in behaviour, a
person cannot be said to have a character at all
until he has learnt to be somewhat consistent in
his actions : thus a child cannot be said to have a
character in any useful sense of the word until he
has acquired at least one fixed sentiment, such as
love for his mother. As his sentiments develop,
his desires tend to become more permanent, and
as his consciousness of his own individuality
grows in clearness, he begins to exert his native
will-power in service of these desires. But this
is not sufficient to ensure ultimate strength of
174 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
character, for it does not prevent the co-existence
of incompatible sentiments, such as love of truth
and love of popularity. The really "strong"
man is the man who has a definite aim in life and
who cares about this aim sufficiently to abstain
from gratifying chance desires which would in-
volve him in activities that are not in accordance
with it. Needless to say, fine will-power, though
essential, is not sufficient. The person who wishes
to acquire a strong character must also make up
his mind clearly what he wants most of all and
which, of any two alternatives, he wants more than
the other. In other words, he must organise his
sentiments in relation to some clearly-defined
master-sentiment, otherwise his very strength of
will may lead him into inconsistencies owing to
the temporary predominance of some sentiment
which is incompatible with his general scheme of
life.
In order to attain strength of character with the
minimum of efFort, it is well to remember that
we are so constituted that every act lays the
foundation for a habit, every train of thought
for an association, and that it depends entirely
on the way in which we use this quality of the
nervous system whether it proves a help or a
hindrance in the attainment of the end. To
quote from Mr. Shand {Foundations of Character^
p. 70), " The laws of association tend to dis-
PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER 175
organise all systems of character, so far as they
introduce into them constituents which are useless
or harmful, and lead to the formation of bad
habits ; but they also subserve them by strengthen-
ing serviceable connections, which lead to the
formation of good habits. The law of organisa-
tion, on its side, tends to exclude from these
systems all constituents that owe their presence
there to the action of association alone."
(2) The Choice of the Master Sentiment. — Quite
as important as the organisation of the sentiments,
is the choice of the aim. The whole structure is
liable to fall to pieces if the "master sentiment"
is destroyed. It is, therefore, vital that this
should be one which is not at the mercy of every
passing event. To ensure this, an attempt should
be made to formulate as "general" an aim as
possible. The desire " to be successful " is more
likely to make for strength than the desire " to
be successful in a particular venture," and " to be
useful " has a greater element of permanence in it
than " to be useful to a particular person " ; since
the failure of the venture or the death of the
person may make the individual with the par-
ticularised aim lose all interest in life, whereas a
similar check will leave the person with the more
generalised aim with plenty of other things which
are worth doing. Of course, even the person
with a highly generalised aim may give up his
176 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
efforts in despair if he meets with failure after
failure. How soon this limit is reached in a
particular case would seem to depend on the
native pugnacity or " will-power " of the indi-
vidual, on his general attitude towards life, and on
the extent to which his master-ideal has become
incorporated in his self-regarding sentiment.
(3) The Limitations of Will-power . — One further
point has to be considered in this connection, that
is the difficulty which is sometimes experienced
when it becomes necessary to act in accordance
with a carefully considered resolution. This is a
common phenomenon. It is perhaps most readily
understood by comparing the act of choice with
the lifting of a weight by a number of ropes, each
pulling it in a different direction with a different
amount of pull. In such a case one of three
things may happen : usually the weight will move
in a direction different from that of any of the
ropes to which it is tied (a direction which
represents, as it were, a compromise between their
separate effects), but it may also move in the
direction of one of the ropes, or it may not move
at all. Even if it happens to move in the direction
of one of the ropes, the effect of the others is not
thereby lost, for they will either increase or decrease
the rate of movement of the weight according to
the amount and the direction of the pull on them.
Each of these alternatives may occur in an act
PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER 177
of choice. The ropes fixed hi direction may be
taken to represent motives, the pull on them the
driving force behind the motives, or motive force,
as it is usually called, and the weight the problem
which has to be solved. In the act of choice
compromise is not always possible and selection
of one course of action at the expense of the other
alternative (/. e. movement along one of the ropes)
is therefore more frequent, but here, too, the other
desires play their part by affecting the ease with
which the choice is made.
Moreover, if we tie only one rope to a weight
and pull that, we get the effect of the pull on that
rope separately, but if we now add another, we
can only observe the way its pull affects the result
obtained by the first. We have to resort to cal-
culation, if we wish to decide what the effect of the
second would have been by itself without actually
removing the first. Similarly, when we have two
alternative lines of action at our disposal, we do
not, as a rule, become aware of the absolute value
of the second during the process of choice ; we
only judge it as better or worse than the first.
But the absolute value of the alternative we have
selected has an uncomfortable way of becoming
conscious when we have to express a decision
in action. At times we may even fail in the
attempt, for the energy which was sufficient to
make us choose one of two alternatives when we
N
178 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
were judging it in relation to the other, may be
unequal to the strain when we are faced with
the full amount of unpleasure it involves at the
moment of action.^ The extent to which a person
is able to sacrifice immediate pleasure under such
conditions is perhaps the best indication of his
strength of character.
C. The Meaning of a " Fine " Character
In order to complete this sketch of the psycho-
logy of character, it is necessary to consider what
is involved in a " fine " character. Clearly strength
is one of its constituents, but strength alone is not
sufficient. We judge the quality of a person's
character at least as much by the nature of his
master sentiment as by the consistency of his
behaviour ; in fact, of the two, many of us are
more inclined to forgive weakness than what we
consider a " poor " aim in life. By common con-
sent a really fine man must have plenty of
" strength of mind " and he must use his powers
in service of a principle which we admire. Per-
haps one other qualification should be added for
members of a community such as ours, that is,
a clear realisation of the personal prejudices for
which he has to make allowance in all his decisions.
1 Cf. Table II and Boyd Barrett, op. cit., Chapter X.
PSYCHOLOGY OF CHARACTER 179
As has been shown above, this means that he must,
at least, realise that sentiments and complexes
influence judgment at every turn. Ideally, he
should also be aware of the most important of his
complexes, so that he can allow for them in cases
in which they are likely to affect his verdict.
CHAPTER IX
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER
A. " Lawful " and " Lawless " Obstacles.
(i) Lessons Taught by " Lawful" Obstacles.
(2) The Artificial Manipulation of the Environment.
(3) Approval and Disapproval as " Lawful" Obstacles.
B. Pleasure and Unpleasure as Incentives to Right Behaviour.
C. Intention and Execution.
D. The Part Played by Suggestion.
(i) Direct versus Indirect Suggestion.
(2) Difficulties in the Use of Direct Suggestion.
A. '^ LawfuV and '-''Lawless'' Obstacles
One of the first discoveries a child makes when
he is beginning to try his powers on his little
world, is that he has to reckon with obstacles of
two different kinds — those that seem to be no
one's fault, and those that seem to have been
placed in his way by some one else, the " lawful "
and the " lawless " as we may call them.^ He
soon discovers that it is useless to get angry about
lawful obstacles. But the "lawless" are on a
different footing. They have been put in his
1 The "law" in question may be a law of unconscious
nature or of human nature, or it may be a mere convention.
Lawful is to be taken to mean " in obedience to some fixed
law," whatever the origin of that law, and " lawless " as the
opposite of " lawful."
180
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER i8i
way by some one else and it just depends on his
attitude towards that some one else, whether he
takes them in good part or resents them as an
unwarranted interference with his freedom of action.
(i) Lessons Taught by " La'wfuV Obstacles. — At
first the classification into " lawful " and " lawless "
is necessarily very crude. The tiny child who
knocks himself against a table hits that table in
his anger, for he has yet to learn that the table
cannot move out of his way. Similarly he eats
the bright red berry without even wondering
whether it may harm him. He must have time
and experience to find out the forces which govern
his little universe.
Sooner or later he learns that he cannot trans-
gress the laws of his own nature without paying
the penalty, thus he cannot sit about in damp
clothes without catching a cold. As his ex-
perience increases, he finds with our aid that
all that surrounds him, all the *' not me " as
it were, is also governed by laws that cannot
be infringed without paying the penalty. Thus
his building-blocks refuse to stand in certain
posidons however often he tries ; his seedlings
die if he does not give them any water ; his
companions do not like him if he is too quarrel-
some, etc., etc. In every such case the child
begins by assuming that the undesired act was
done on purpose to annoy him, just as the savage
1 82 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
thinks that some evil spirit must have thrown
down the stone which fell from the cliff and hurt
him. Our knowledge of what is and what is not
due to " law " is in fact the result of centuries
of reflection on experience, and the child would
acquire little or none of it without guidance from
his elders.
Whenever a lesson can be learnt through direct
experience, without undue risk to the learner, it
is a mistake to try to save the child from the
consequences of his acts, and this for three reasons :
(i) because there is nothing so convincing as
personal experience, (2) because every such inter-
ference is liable to rouse resentment, and hence
to defeat its own end, and (3) because it is essential
for every one to learn the difficult art of inter-
preting his own experience correctly and it is
therefore advisable to give a child every oppor-
tunity of acquiring the necessary skill. There
are, however, many cases in which the "lawful"
consequences are too ill-defined or too distant
to appeal to a child. Thus it would, for instance,
be very unfair to a child to allow him to form a
habit, the undesirability of which he will only be
able to appreciate in years to come. In such
cases we must, therefore, supplement the teaching
of Nature and Man by means of artificial stimuli
which are suited to the stage of development of
the child.
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 183
(2 ) The Artificial Manipulation of the Environment.
— This can sometimes be done by providing an
artificial environment which the pupil assumes
to be " natural," and which puts him into a
position in which he is able to learn from his own
experience. We can, for instance, teach an only-
child that selfishness Is undesirable by providing
him with suitable companions, and we can stimu-
late an adolescent to greater effort by putting the
right kind of biography in his way. So long as
the child does not know why he has been provided
with companions, and so long as the youth thinks
that it is " chance " that he has come across the
book, the desired lesson will seem to each a
discovery of his own, and his self-regard will
therefore urge him to turn it to good account.
When such manipulation of the environment
is impossible, we have to resort to methods in
which the personal element Is frankly avowed,
that is, to expressions of approval or disapproval
or to concrete rewards and punishments. The
younger the child, the less will he be able to
draw the right conclusions from his experience,
and the more often will it be necessary to resort
to personal pressure. It should, however, be
borne in mind that punishments and rewards, as
well as praise and blame, are only temporary
expedients, and are by no means ideal incentives
to right behaviour. Punishments and rewards
1 84 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
appeal primarily to the child's love of personal
comfort and are therefore likely to make him
selfish and self-seeking, if used at all freely.
Indiscriminate love of approval is not much better,
for the desire to stand well with every one is not
likely to produce a very valuable member of the
community. Ultimately, it is the man's ideals,
not the opinion of his momentary environment,
that should decide his line of action. As Dr.
McDougall puts it, "the highest form of be-
haviour is that in which conduct is regulated by
an ideal of conduct that enables a man to act in
the way that seems to him right, regardless of
the praise or blame of his immediate social
environment" {op. cit.^ p. i8i).
Such an attitude towards the problems of life
is clearly impossible until the individual has
acquired a strong, well-organised character. In
the process of attaining this he has to pass
through certain preliminary stages, which Dr.
McDougall enumerates as follows : —
(i) The stage of purely impulsive behaviour,
in which the feeling tone which accompanies the
actual experience is the only effective teacher.
(2) The stage in which conduct is influenced
by the expectation of rewards and punishments.
(3) The stage in which the expectation of praise
and blame is sufficient.
The first of these stages is passed through
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 185
during early infancy. A baby repeats pleasurable
and avoids painful acts as far as he can, but threats
of punishment and promises of rewards mean
nothing to him. If a child is in danger of
acquiring an undesirable habit at this stage, he
can therefore only be checked by associating the
act in question with physical pain, that is to say,
by slapping him each time he does it ; then he
will gradually give it up on account of its un-
pleasant results. But once a child can understand
what we say, and has realised himself, however
vaguely, as a little individual with wants of his
own, it becomes possible to control his behaviour
to some extent by the threat of punishment or the
promise of reward, and as soon as he has become
sufficiently sensitive to the opinion of others, it is
possible to discard these in their turn and to rely
more and more completely on his love of approval.
Arbitrary rewards and punishments probably
become unnecessary at a much earlier age than is
generally realised, for quite little children seem to
be able to interpret them as expressions of opinion.
Even a child of eighteen months will often take
a fall on the hard ground quite bravely, and yet
scream at the top of his voice if his mother slaps
him lightly but in anger. What little children
need is a clear expression of our approval or dis-
approval, but words and manner are quite sufficient
as soon as they are able to understand what we
1 86 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
say. I have known a little girl of three and a half
years stop in the midst of her play to ask : " 1 am
not being naughty, am I ? " when the adult who
was playing with her, gave rather an impatient
answer to one of her many questions.
The way in which an arbitrary punishment that
is felt to be arbitrary is interpreted by a child
may be seen from the following case of a very
passionate girl of twelve. This child was con-
sidered "almost unmanageable" at school, although
all kinds of punishments had been tried, even the
use of the cane did not make the least impression.
Yet the mother, who undoubtedly exerted an
excellent influence over her, assured me that she
could only manage the girl by " thrashing " her
every time she was in one of her bad moods.
For the onlooker it was easy to see why the
mother succeeded where the school failed. The
child worshipped her mother, she hated the school
and despised her form mistress. The "thrashing "
was a thing to be feared because it was an
expression of extreme disapproval on the part of
a person whose good opinion she valued very
highly. But at school there was no such check
on her actions ; to disturb the work of the whole
class and make the teacher lose her temper
appealed to her love of power ; the pleasure she
derived from it was well worth the loss of
play-time or an occasional caning.
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 187
If any one imagines that this is an exceptional
case he should work for a while at a children's
club and listen to the conversation. He will
find that children invariably have most respect for
the teacher who can manage his class without
resorting to punishments and rewards, and that
they interpret a system of frequent punishments
as a sign of weakness on the part of the teacher.
In short, rewards and punishments that are felt
to be arbitrary are only effective in so far as they
are taken to be expressions of opinion on the
part of some one whom the child already respects.
They are therefore quite unnecessary with normal
children of school age, who have not been neg-
lected too hopelessly at home. Even the little
girl to whom reference has just been made
managed to behave herself quite passably during
the last three months of the school year at the
request of some one whom she wished to think
well of her, although no stimulus other than her
desire for approval was used, and in spite of the
fact that she never got over her intense dislike
for her form mistress — not a mean achievement
for a passionate girl of twelve.
(3) -Approval and Disapproval as ''^ Lawful''
Obstacles. — Expressions of approval and disapproval
are on a different footing from concrete rewards
and punishments. They are the normal signs of
group opinion, and as such, perfectly " lawful " in
1 88 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
the sense defined. If the group decides against
the behaviour of an individual, he can either bow
to its decision or ignore it, but he must be prepared
to find himself ostracised if he dares to follow his
own judgment in a matter of importance. The
extent to which he is likely to mind this will
depend on circumstances. If revolt against the
opinion of his own group opens the membership
of other groups to him, gregariousness and self-
regard will both receive satisfaction. Yet the
struggle may be severe enough, for he may know
that his act is likely to weaken or break highly
valued personal ties, such as friendships. If he
does not know of any group which would approve
of his attitude, he has nothing to fall back upon
except self-regard. Normally, the fear of loneli-
ness is so strong that it is impossible for any one
to maintain his position under these circumstances,
but he can sometimes escape from his dilemma by
inventing an imaginary group to which he would
belong if it existed. Needless to say, a revolt of
this nature is usually the act of a ripe mind, it
only occurs in childhood and adolescence if the
individual finds it impossible to satisfy the require-
ments of his environment.
Thus praise and blame can be made to play an
important part in the training of character. It
should, however, be borne in mind that both must
be used with discrimination to be effective. The
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 189
true function of an appeal to love of approval is
to strengthen a motive which is too weak to issue
in action without such help. It must therefore
be strong enough to produce this effect. On the
other hand, we must not give more praise or blame
than the child feels he has earned, for both
quickly lose their effect if administered too freely.
Generally speaking, an act of choice soon becomes
habitual under suitable conditions, but it should
be remembered that a habit is always specialised,
and that a small change in environment is often
sufficient to destroy it. There is on record a case
of a girl who managed to be at school punctually
for a whole year, and who yet relapsed into her
old habits of unpunctuality as soon as she was
removed from the influence of the form mistress
for whose sake she had made the effort. This
girl was obviously quite indifferent about punctu-
ality as such and her temporary improvement was
entirely due to her desire to please her form
mistress. She was, therefore, in this respect,
wholly at the mercy of her environment. There
is thus a distinct element of danger in relying too
much on love of approval as an instrument in the
training of character.
This does not mean, of course, that we should
try to abstain from expressions of praise and
blame. It means rather that we should grade
them in accordance with the needs of our pupils.
I90 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
The younger the child, the more freely must they
be used, but it is a mistake to resort to them in
a question in which he is himself able to appre-
ciate what is right and what is wrong. If the
environment is favourable, the child of ten or
eleven has usually begun to realise that there
are certain things which he cannot do without
hurting his self-respect. As soon as this stage
has been reached, we should therefore appeal to
his pride rather than to his love of approval.
This will have two advantages : it will help
him to enter on the final stage of conduct, and
it will render our expressions of approval and
disapproval all the more effective just because
they will not have to be used so often.
B. The Relative Value of Pleasure and Unpleasure
as Incentives to Right Behaviour
The next point which we have to discuss is
whether pleasurable or unpleasurable stimuli are
on the whole more effective in the training of
character.
In the case of " natural " punishments and
rewards one is probably as good as the other,
simply because each is recognised to be the
" natural " outcome of a definite act. The boy
who has once made himself thoroughly ill by
eating too many green gooseberries will be more
careful in the future, and the boy who succeeds
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 19
in solving a problem after a long struggle has all
the reward he needs in the pleasure success brings
with it. But, as stated above, praise and blame
are used when the result of an action is not suffi-
ciently obvious to serve as a guide for behaviour
Their purpose is, in fact, to turn the weaker
motive into the stronger. If we use fear of dis
approval, we are weakening the stronger motive ;
if we take the opposite course, we are strengthen-
ing the weaker one. Obviously the end can be
attained in either way. The question is, whether
there is anything to choose between them, and if
so, which is the more effective.
In order to answer this question we have to
turn to experiments that have been conducted to
determine the physiological changes which accom-
pany changes in feeling tone. Perhaps the most
striking of these is one which measures the effect
of pleasure, and unpleasure upon already con-
tracted muscles. This may be done by means of
a spring balance. The subject is blind-folded to
avoid complications introduced by his own obser-
vation of his record, a spring balance is hung up
at some convenient distance from him and he is
then told to pull his hardest for, say, a minute.
Under ordinary conditions his record shows a
regular decrease, so that it can be represented
by an almost unbroken, obliquely descending
line. If the subject is now given a pleasant
192 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
stimulus (say a little raspberry juice) whilst he is
in the act of pulling, there is a momentary drop,
followed by a significant rise in his record, which
then again falls gradually, but maintains through-
out a higher level than before. If a very un-
pleasant stimulus is given (say quinine) there is,
on the contrary, a decided fall in the record,
followed by a gradual fall, so that the general
level maintained is lower than under ordinary
conditions. It would appear from this that a
pleasant stimulus increases the amount of energy
at the disposal of the subject, whereas an un-
pleasant stimulus decreases it. The same con-
clusion is suggested by certain other experiments.
Moreover, everyday experience points to the
same conclusion : when we are happy, we usually
move about, talk, sing, etc., when we are unhappy
we tend to mope, without enough energy or
interest in things to want to do anything. The
way in which a pleasant surprise seems to renew
our energy, however tired we were beforehand,
is also worth noting in this connection. Similarly,
appreciation from the right quarter acts as a
spur to further effort, whereas lack of it may
make one give up the struggle in disgust. (It is
true that an unpleasant experience which rouses
our " dis "pleasure increases our activity by
stimulating our pugnacity. This more complex
state of mind was not tested by the experiments
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 193
under discussion, nor does it affect our present
problem.)
We may, then, assume that pleasure in general
increases the amount of vital energy at our dis-
posal, whereas unpleasure decreases it. Hence
the expression of disapproval is effective, if we
merely wish to check the activity of an indi-
vidual ; but a pleasure stimulus is the better, if
we wish to induce him to adopt a particular line
of action. As was shown in Chapter VI, the
quickest way to break an undesirable habit is
to form another in its stead. Since our business
in this connection is usually that of helping our
pupil to form useful habits of choice, it follows
that we should emphasise the pleasure that will
accompany right choice rather than the unpleasure
that will result from wrong choice. Thus, '* I
shall be so pleased, if you remember this," is
more likely to be successful than " I shall be very
angry, if you forget this," whenever the act that
has to be " remembered " involves the conquest
of some relatively strong habit or sentiment.
C. Intention versus Execution
Finally it is important to bear in mind that it
is not necessarily the child's fault when he does
" forget." Even Ach's subjects found it impossible
to give a rhyme to a syllable when its association
with a non-rhyming syllabic exceeded a certain
o
194 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
strength. Yet these were adults with a well-
developed self-regarding sentiment and they were
working under conditions in which they might
be expected to know with some exactness the
strength of the contrary tendency they had to
overcome. The child who promises faithfully
" never to forget again," is often dealing with
desires which he does not understand himself.
To any one who has no knowledge of psy-
chology, it may seem no more difficult to
remember not to suck the thumb than not to
give the associated syllable. Modern analytical
psychology has, however, taught us that thumb-
sucking is anything but a meaningless habit, that
it is, on the contrary, a symbolical expression of
the repressed desire to return to the care-free life
of infancy, and that this expression is allowed free
play by the growing self-regard of the child just
because it seems meaningless. It is therefore an
outlet for repressed vital energy, and as such far
more difficult to conquer than a habit that has been
acquired consciously. In cases of this kind a child
has no idea what his promise " not to do it again "
involves, and failure is undoubtedly quite as often
due to lack of ability as to lack of goodwill.
Whether such failure is helpful, probably de-
pends in part on the character of the person and
in part on the kind of tendency that has to be
overcome. Ach found that failure produced
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 195
anger, which set free more energy for the next
attempt ; whereas success, when achieved with
sufficient difficulty, produced a consciousness of
power which helped to strengthen future acts in
so far as it was reproduced on the next occasion.
Both were therefore found to be helpful. There
is, however, no reason to suppose that this would
invariably be the case. Suppose a person A who
dislikes paying calls makes up his mind that he
must without fail call on certain people to-morrow.
To-morrow comes and a friend suggests that it is
an ideal day for a long tramp. A " forgets " all
about the call and spends an enjoyable afternoon
on the hills. Later in the day he will probably
*' remember " the intended call, but the anger with
himself for his forgetfulness will be considerably
modified by his pleasure at having escaped what
is to him an unpleasant ordeal. He may, on the
other hand, " remember " his intentions and pay
his call. Then one of two things may happen :
he may find that it is, after all, not so unplea-
sant an experience, or he may decide that it was
up to his worst expectations. The one will
encourage him to be more regular in his social
duties in future, the other will make him vow
never to waste another afternoon in that way.
This is more in accordance with the majority
of the difficulties that children have to face,
because it is an instance in which both success
196 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
and failure to " remember " produce satisfaction
of a more or less conscious desire ; whereas
Ach's subjects derived nothing but unpleasure
from failure. Hence it is, as a rule, safer to
rely on the pleasure that accompanies hard-won
success than on the anger that is produced by
failure. In other words, though it is good for
the development of the child to set him high
standards, it is generally wiser to grade one's
demands in such a way as to avoid failure as
far as possible.
D. The "Part Flayed by Suggestion
So long as a child depends on his momentary
environment for his standards of conduct, he can-
not be said to be " free " in any useful sense of
the word, for the truly " free " individual is one
who is able to '* act in a way which seems to him
right, regardless of the praise or blame of his
immediate environment." Hence the "freedom"
of an individual depends on the strength of his
character. As we saw in the last chapter, this in
turn depends partly on the extent to which he has
succeeded in organising his sentiments and com-
plexes round some master sentiment or ideal, and
partly on the extent to which he has learnt to let
himself be guided by his general principles and
ideals when he finds it difficult to decide what he
ought to do. It is, therefore, important to know
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 197
as much as possible about the growth of ideals
and general principles.
When we try to trace one of these back to its
beginnings, we find that it owes its existence
either to the influence of some definite individual
or to the pressure of group opinion, that is to say,
either to prestige suggestion or to mass suggestion.
Whatever its origin, it will, however, have to
be incorporated in the self -regarding sentiment
to acquire that element of permanence which is
characteristic of ideals and general principles, for
the life of a desire remains at the mercy of the
immediate environment so long as it does not
derive at least part of its energy from that
sentiment.
In order to see what conditions favour incor-
poration in the self-regarding sentiment, we shall
have to study suggestion and suggestibility in
more detail.
Direct versus Indirect Suggestion. — We have
already seen that the suggestibility of an individual
may be due to his respect for the person who
makes the suggestion, or to the consciousness
that he is dealing with group opinion. We have
now to consider how the force of a suggestion
is affected by the way in which it is given. I
may, for instance, persuade or force a child to do
a task which he considers useless and distasteful,
or I may, on the other hand, arrange things in such
198 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
a way that he thinks he would like to tackle that
same task. In the former case I am said to be
using ^^ direct'" prestige suggestion, in the latter
^^ indirect'" prestige suggestion. Similarly, mass
suggestion may be direct or indirect. The new-
comer who is put into the class of a popular
teacher, may find that his attempts to disturb his
neighbours are merely ignored by the others. If
he takes this as a hint that he had. better behave
himself, he is acting on " indirect mass sugges-
tion," if he waits until the others tell him not
to make himself a nuisance, he is acting on " direct
mass suggestion."
Clearly the success of indirect suggestion
depends on the susceptibility of the individual
to the opinion of others, that is to say, on the
strength of his love of approbation and on his
intelligence. If his love of approbation is weak,
he will not be interested in the opinion of others,
and will therefore experience no desire to conform
to them. If his intelligence is poor, he will tend
to draw incorrect inferences from what goes on
around him, and will therefore be unable to learn
from experience. On the other hand, indirect
suggestion, if successful, has the advantage that it
leaves the individual under the impression that he
has discovered the advisability of a certain line of
action by his own unaided efforts, with the result
that his self-regard makes him anxious to act in
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 199
accordance with his discovery. In other words,
the new principle of action will, from the begin-
ning, derive its energy from the self-regarding
sentiment, and its permanence will therefore not
depend on the permanence of the influence of
this or that individual, or on the pressure exerted
by this or that environment.
The advantage of direct suggestion is that there
is less risk of misunderstanding. It is, however,
not advisable to use it too freely in connection
with matters which affect the self-regard of a
pupil, because every direct suggestion impresses
on him that we consider him our inferior, with
the result that it challenges the opposition of the
strong-willed and hinders the development of
self-reliance in the weak-willed. Moreover, care
must be taken not to resort to it unless success is
assured, for every failure lessens the feeling of
inferiority on the part of the child, and thus
makes it more difficult to exact obedience on
a future occasion.
Difficulties in the Use of Direct Suggestion. — Skill
in the use of direct suggestion can only be acquired
through practice. The following hints may none
the less prove useful. As will be seen, they are
merely different methods of maintaining the feeling
of inferiority on the part of the child.
(i) The suggestion must be given in a tone and
manner that command respect.
200 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
(2) It is most likely to succeed when intro-
duced so as to produce a slight shock or surprise ;
thus the art of keeping a lazy pupil at work
consists partly in having a large number of
devices at one's disposal.
(3) It must not be so contrary to the pupil's
training or natural bent that it rouses his self-
assertion or criticism ; thus a boy with good home
training will refuse to tell tales of another and
will merely lose respect for the teacher who is
foolish enough to demand such a thing.
(4) It must not contradict facts which the pupil
knows or thinks he knows. In such a case, the
only thing to do is to discuss the matter with him
on equal terms.
Even if a direct suggestion produces the desired
result, it must not be imagined that the amount of
improvement that is produced can be taken as
a measure of the strength of the new ideal which
is being developed. This was brought out clearly
in an experiment conducted by the writer for the
purpose of investigating the conditions under
which direct suggestion was likely to produce
permanent results in the case of children aged
twelve to fourteen. In this experiment the
teachers of a number of classes undertook to
stimulate in their pupils the desire to become
more observant in regard to the everyday things
of life. Two sets of schools were used for this
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 201
purpose. One set consisted of primary schools.
In these definite practices in concentration of
attention were given for fifteen minutes a day on
four days of every week throughout a training
period of twelve weeks and the children were
told that these lessons were intended to help
them to learn more about the things around
them. The other set of schools consisted of
secondary schools. In these the teachers were
given no artificial aid of this kind and had there-
fore to rely on their personal influence alone,
moreover, the training only lasted nine weeks
instead of twelve. In both cases the children
were tested at the beginning and at the end of
the training period, and the practice effects of the
tests as such were eliminated by comparing the
improvement in these groups with that in other
groups which had the same average marks in
the first test, but were taken from schools in
which no special training of this kind was being
given.
The results which were obtained in this way
showed that the secondary schools had derived
far greater immediate benefit from the training.
Intervals of nine weeks and sixteen weeks respec-
tively were now allowed to elapse during which
the teachers evinced no interest in their pupils'
knowledge of everyday things. At the end of
this second period a final test was given. It was
202 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
then found that the secondary school children
had lost almost all the benefit derived from the
training, whereas the others had lost very little,
so that the training had evidently been more
successful in the group which showed less imme-
diate improvement.^ (This result must not be
taken to indicate in any way the length of training
required to produce a permanent improvement,
because : (i) the ideal was inculcated by different
methods in the two groups, and (2) the groups
represented schools of different types.)
Whether a direct suggestion will take root in a
particular case, and if so how quickly, it is impos-
sible to foretell without far more knowledge than
is usually at our disposal. Some of the factors
involved have been already discussed at some
length. These are : the amount of influence
the teacher has over the pupil, the strength of
contrary tendencies within the pupil, and the
extent to which his self-regarding sentiment is
developed. Clearly his general environment must
also play an important part in the incorporation
of the new principle in the self-regarding senti-
ment, but we have at present too little knowledge
in regard to the conditions which are favourable
to this process to be able to say anything definite
about it. Since so little is known, it may, how-
1 A full description of this experiment will be found in the
British Journal 0/ Psychology, Vol. IX., Pt. I.
THE TRAINING OF CHARACTER 203
ever, be worth while to state a result which was
obtained in the experiment just described. It is
this : of the four schools that made up the group
of primary schools, one alone failed to show any
gain in the final test, although it had improved
at about the same rate as the others during the
period of training. There seemed to be nothing
in the experimental conditions to account for its
behaviour, but it so happened that this school
was the only one of the four in which the children
were promoted at the end of the term during
which the training had been given. They were,
moreover, not merely moved up in a body, but
were distributed among a number of different
classes. Since this was apparently the only way in
which the conditions in this school differed from
those in the others, we are led to conclude that
the dispersal into different classes was responsible
for the absence of permanent improvement. This
would have a twofold effect : it would stimulate
the development of new interests, and it would
interfere with the working of mass suggestion.
Hence a direct suggestion given to a whole class
seems more likely to produce permanent improve-
ment, if followed by a period during which there
is no large influx of new ideas and no change in
the constitution of the class. So far as I know,
this is the only experiment which even touches
on the matter. Much more work will evidently
204 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
have to be done in this field if we are to obtain
exact knowledge in regard to the conditions that
affect the growth of ideals, and such knowledge
is clearly of the greatest importance to every one
who wishes to influence the character of others.
CHAPTER X
WORK AND PLAY
A. Work as an Activity which is Initiated by the Conscious-
ness of the Self as a Lasting Entity, Play as an
Activity which is the Direct Expression of the
Desires of the Moment.
B. The Activities of Children and Adolescents.
( 1 ) Activities of Children under Two and a Half Years
of Age.
(2) Activities of Children between Two and a Half
and Seven or Eight Years of Age.
(3) Activities of Children between Eight and Twelve
Years of Age.
(4) Activities of Adolescents after the Age of Twelve.
C. The Educational Value of Play.
D. Passive Play and its Reaction on Behaviour.
A. The Meaning of Work and Play
Any one who tries to define the words " work. "
and " play " as used in ordinary conversation is
faced with a difficult, if not an impossible task.
We " play " hockey, but we " work " in the
garden, though we may clearly enjoy the one as
much as the other. It is sometimes said that in
play alone we are absolutely free, but the member
205
2o6 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
of a hockey team knows quite well that he cannot
drop out of a game because he does not happen
to be in the mood for it. Again, an occupation
is said to be " play " if done purely for its own
sake, " work " if done for some ulterior purpose,
but this, too, is not always in accordance with
the popular usage of these words ; thus much
of the work that the amateur puts into his garden
is done for the pure joy of it ; he tires, himself out
with digging because he enjoys the exercise or the
smell and colour of the earth, not because he
thinks it is good for his health, or because he
cannot get any one to do it for him.
Such vague use of terms is obviously impos-
sible in a scientific discussion of various forms
of activity. In psychology it is, therefore, usual
to call an activity '■^ play " // done purely for its own
sake; " work " if done for some ulterior purpose.
Thus digging is play if done purely for the joy
of digging, work if done in order to prepare the
ground for flowers or vegetables. We may now
go a step further and inquire why we should
want to prepare the ground for flowers, even
though we do not enjoy the physical exertion
which the process entails. Clearly the answers
of different individuals would vary greatly in
scope and in character. If we were to collect
them all, we should, however, find that they have
at least one thing in common : we do of our own
WORK AND PLAY 207
accord what we do not enjoy because we think
that we shall benefit by it in the end. What
any particular individual considers a " benefit "
necessarily depends on his ideas of the needs
of his " self." He may be trying to satisfy
some highly generalised ideal, or he may only
be desirous of providing himself with concrete
luxuries. The one essential is that he is able
to look ahead to a slight extent, otherwise there
is no reason why he should think of anything
except his immediate needs. Hence the power to
work depends on the power to realise that the
self of to-morrow or next year is affected by the
behaviour of the self of to-day.
This knowledge is acquired gradually during
childhood and adolescence. The baby is at first
only aware of the pleasure or unpleasure which
accompanies his acts, he has as yet no conscious-
ness of himself as a lasting entity.
As his experience increases and as his mental
powers develop, he learns that acts can have
pleasant and unpleasant effects some time after
they have taken place. His mother may get
angry about a broken window an hour or more
after the stone went through it, she may even
deprive him of jam at tea-time for some mis-
demeanour of which he was guilty as long ago
as that same morning. And the child who takes
immediate reproof in good part will often resent
2o8 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
one that is deferred, for a little child considers
even an hour after the event such a long time
that it seems sheer spite on the part of the adult
to refer to it again. However, bitter experience
gradually teaches him that he has to reckon with
the after-effects of his actions whether he will
or not. As he learns this lesson, he becomes
capable of true work, for his self-regard makes
him formulate standards of attainment for him-
self, and these in turn make it possible for him
to do the thing which is not particularly attractive
at the moment for the sake of the pleasure which
he will derive from it when it is done.
To sum up : an activity is of the nature of work ^
if it is initiated by the consciousness of the self as a
lasting entity ; it is of the nature of play if it is the
direct expression of the desires of the moment when
these are not controlled by any thought of the more
permanent needs of the self Clearly childhood is the
time for true play, for it is only in childhood that
we can satisfy each desire as it arises without
thinking of the consequences. The adult usually
finds it difficult to forget himself to the same
extent and he is therefore happier when he is
engaged in an occupation which is in accordance
with his more permanent idea of himself as well
as with the sentiments or complexes which happen
to be active at the moment. Thus I may be
very fond of digging for its own sake, but the
WORK AND PLAY 209
fact that my garden will benefit by the work I
am putting into it certainly adds to the pleasure
which I derive from the occupation.
B. 'The Activities of Childhood and Adolescents
We might expect that the average person
would prefer to keep his body at rest and his
mind a blank after a heavy day's work, but that
does not seem to be the case. He may only be
day-dreaming, if he is too tired to do anything
else, but his mind is never entirely at rest so
long as he retains consciousness.
In order to see how this stream of activity
varies with age and environment, and how pure
play is gradually displaced by a mixture of play
and work, or, indeed, by work without any play,
it will be necessary to study the occupations of
children and adolescents in some detail.
(i) Activities of Children under 'Two and a Half
Tears of Age. — In so far as a child's activities are
purely reflex, they are not purposeful, and there-
fore neither play nor work in the sense defined ;
but every baby soon discovers that certain acts
are pleasurable, and as soon as this stage is
reached he is able to form what we have called
" primitive complexes " for these acts, and may
therefore be said to be capable of play (see
Chapter IV, p. 62). At first his own body natur-
ally attracts much attention, but anything which
p
2IO THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
comes within his range is rubbed, scratched or
pulled about. At eight or ten months he will
be perfectly happy for hours enjoying the sounds
he himself is able to make with his vocal organs.
A little later he begins to enjoy running and
climbing, building things so that they will stay,
or throwing them down with a bang. Towards
the end of this period we can sometimes observe
slight attempts at " work " : thus a child will
occasionally try to say a word rightly to win
approval ; but such attempts are short-lived, for
the child quickly loses patience and turns the
attention of his would-be teacher to something
else. On the other hand, he may at times be
observed to be repeating to himself over and over
again some new word or phrase. This is, how-
ever, play, not work, for it is done purely for its
own sake in response to one or more impulses.
(2) Activities of Children between Ages of Two
and a Half and Seven or Eight. — During the next
five or six years the co-ordination of the coarser
muscles are being completed, with the result that
the child obtains control over his immediate
physical environment. Thanks to this, his ex-
perience increases rapidly, and he has soon
enough ideas to enable him to try his hand at
building something new of his own. On the
other hand, he has still so little knowledge that
he is not hampered by any distinction between
WORK AND PLAY 211
the possible or the impossible, and so little power
of reflection that he often finds it difficult to
distinguish between what he has experienced and
what he had only imagined. Hence imaginative
play develops rapidly during these years. As a
matter of fact, we can often observe the first signs
of it at the age of two years and a half or three,
but it does not become very marked till four or
five, and usually reaches its maximum between
the ages of six and seven.
If we examine the play of children between
three and seven, we shall find that we can divide it
roughly into unimaginative play and imaginative
play, though the latter necessarily often involves
the former.
The unimaginative play is similar to that
observed during the first period. The healthy
child seems to enjoy movement for its own sake :
he is talking, singing, running most of the day,
the one thing he finds irksome is to be quiet.
At first he is still entirely destructive : he wants
to pull things to pieces, to see what makes a
noise, etc. But gradually other impulses come
into play. He tries to make as well as to
destroy ; he collects things for the sheer joy of
having them. Then, as his control over his
muscles increases, he begins to prefer play which
involves a certain amount of skill. At about
four years of age he wants to play with hoops and
212 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
tops, to hammer nails into a board, and so forth ;
a little later he begins to enjoy skipping and
dancing and is ready to be taught the use of
ordinary tools.
For his imaginative play the child finds the
necessary material in his environment. As was
pointed out above, his gregariousness and his
desire for knowledge make him notice what other
people are doing, and his self-assertion makes
him want to imitate all he admires. Thus he
pretends to be his mother, his teacher, a sailor,
a fairy, or anything else that strikes his fancy,
and acts the part to the best of his ability. I
once watched a child of about four playing at
"engines." He himself was the engine, shunt-
ing, waiting for signals, etc., as he thought an
engine would do. He began by instructing a
child of about two and a half in the game.
" This one," he said, pointing to himself, " has
got a fire right inside him, and you put the
water in here " (pointing to his mouth). He
soon grew absolutely absorbed in his play, and
forgot all about the younger child, who was
doing his utmost to imitate him, but evidently
did not know what it was all about. A child
of five has usually realised that an engine is not
a living being ; he prefers to be the engine-
driver — with, say, a chair as his engine. But
the difference between the four-year-old and the
WORK AND PLAY 213
five-year-old is merely one of knowledge. Both
are using their imagination to express an inter-
esting discovery in play.
As the child develops, his play tends to become
more imaginative and more ambitious. At the
age of six and seven the intelligent child often
plans elaborate games in which younger brothers
and sisters, as well as tables, chairs, etc., all have
a part. It is in preparation for games of this
kind that he probably gets his first ideas of work
in the best sense of the word. He has done a
little work for some years now, in the sense that
he has done things he did not want to do in
order to win approval or to escape punishment ;
but it is in play of this kind that he is for the
first time making himself do something which is
not particularly interesting for an end which he
has himself conceived. Such exclamations as,
" You might help ! " show that he is not absorbed
in the activity as such ; if he were he would
fiercely resent all help as interference. A little
later his desire to make things may exact more
work from him, for he tends to become more
critical towards his own efforts as his knowledge
increases. Then he begins to feel the need for
instruction in the use of various tools. If he is
taught properly he will enjoy the process, but
even so, he is no longer playing as is the child
of four who is hammering nails into a wall, for
214 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
he has a purpose in view : he wants to learn how
to use this tool, because he wants to make, say, a
boat that sails properly. His occupation is there-
fore technically a mixture of play and work — play
because he enjoys it as such, work because it is
not done entirely for its own sake. It may,
however, become "pure play" if he grows deeply
absorbed in it and forgets all about his original
purpose : thus the child who is learning to read,
usually passes through a stage when the reading
of single words is so fascinating that he loses all
interest in the story as such.
(3) Activities of Children Between the Ages of
Eight and Twelve. — After the age of eight there
follows a period of slow physical development
during which the finer muscles are being co-
ordinated ; hence the child begins to be able to
handle more delicate tools, such as needle and
fret-saw and consequently becomes increasingly
interested in the acquisition of skill. As soon
as the technical difficulties of reading have been
overcome, story-books tend to absorb part of
his playtime and, with the increase of reasoning
power, puzzles, riddles and games of skill begin to
come to the fore. Meanwhile the average child
goes through a stage of being extraordinarily
matter-of-fact : he loses all pleasure in the inven-
tion of stories and games, and concentrates instead
on the puzzles which his environment presents.
WORK AND PLAY 215
The earnestness with which many a boy of eight
or nine will listen to quite a technical explanation
of the mechanism of engines shows how strong is
his desire for information of this kind. It seems,
in fact, as though a child of this age is at times so
overwhelmed by the riddles of his little universe,
that he has no energy left for anything else (cf.
Impulse to Investigate, p. 47).
Another characteristic of this stage of develop-
ment is the way in which the competitive spirit
comes to the fore. Children of five and six do a
thing because they enjoy it or because outside pres-
sure is being put upon them. To urge them to
do better than their neighbours is so much waste of
energy, for they are still far too self-centred to be
interested in the activity of others so long as it
does not interfere with their own. By the age of
eight, the child has, however, usually had occasion
to learn that he is a member of a community, in
which it is necessary for him to hold his own.
Then he grows anxious to test his powers on
every occasion : whether he is trying his physical
powers, collecting stamps or playing a game of
skill, at least half the pleasure he experiences
lies for the time being in doing as well as this
friend, or better than that other. At school,
too, however attractive his lessons are made and
however much competition is discouraged by those
in authority, he will yet find means for comparing
2i6 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
his progress with that of his fellows, for Nature's
call to him to find his place in the world is, as a
rule, far too urgent to be resisted. As it happens,
the desire to become a member of a gang is de-
veloping at about the same time (cf . gregariousness,
p. 89), and can therefore be used at school to
replace competition between individuals by compe-
tition between groups. Such group work is a good
preparation for the next stage. It has, however, to
be imposed from above, for it is not a normal
form of competition for children under twelve.
To sum up, we see that pure play is gradually
taking a more subordinate place during this period
of a child's life. When he reads stories, listens
to explanations of things that puzzle him, becomes
a member of a gang, or satisfies his love of
adventure actually or in imagination, he is
probably doing for the sake of doing, with no
ulterior purpose in view. But many of his spare-
time occupations, such as his competitive games or
attempts to make things, involve a mixture of
work and play, in that they are done partly for
their own sake, partly for some ulterior purpose.
We saw above that the child of six and seven was
beginning to do a certain amount of work un-
mixed with play (in the sense defined). Between
the ages of eight and twelve there is a rapid
development of this power, for love of approval
and interest in games or hobbies are now supple-
WORK AND PLAY 217
mented by a competitive spirit which is continually
urging the child to do things in which he takes
little or no pleasure in order to hold his own with
his fellows. Thus he begins to be able to do a
fair amount of "pure work." If he refuses to
make the effort, it is either because his attempts
meet with too little encouragement, or because the
end in view is one which does not appeal to him.
(It is, for instance, impossible for a child to be
seriously interested in that vague and far-off future
when he will be "grown up.") The purpose
must be one he can appreciate and his efforts
must meet with a fair amount of success. If
these two conditions are satisfied, the child of ten
or eleven is capable of surprising amounts of
** pure work," ^
(4) Activities of Adolescents after the Age of Twelve.
— After the age of twelve interests develop rapidly,
if the environment is at all favourable. At times
they become all-absorbing, and " pure play "
disappears almost entirely in favour of that
mixture of play and work which is characteristic
of competitive games, of hobbies, and of school-
1 Whether it is desirable that he should be encouraged to
do such work is, of course, another matter, but one which does
not concern us here. It may, however, be noted in passing
that we have to appeal largely to competition or love of ap-
proval if we want " pure work " at this stage, whereas we can
use interest in the ulterior purpose, if we wait another two or
three years.
21 8 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
work, when it satisfies some strong impulse, such
as the impulse to investigate or the impulse to
construct. At the same time, the capacity for
"pure work" is increasing, for the youth is be-
coming able to look ahead, and hence willing to
work for an end which will not be attained for
some time. At the age of twelve a few weeks is
probably his limit, but at fourteen or fifteen he
should be able to make himself do six months, or
even a year of systematic work for which he has
no taste and from which he will derive no concrete
benefit before the end of that time.
Meanwhile, his desire to hold his own with his
fellows is as strong as ever ; self-assertion and
pugnacity are quickly aroused, and with boys
especially, gymnastic feats, boxing and fencing,
remain popular throughout adolescence. At the
same time, the desire to be a member of a group
has become too strong to be ignored. Hence
each wants to play with his fellows and yet find
an outlet for his self-assertion. The result is, of
course, *' quarrelsomeness," and a general feeling
that " the others " are spoiling the game. It is at
this stage of his development that the adolescent
is ready to enjoy organised games, such as hockey
or football, for these provide him with oppor-
tunities of testing his powers without bringing him
into conflict with his group. Moreover, there
are fixed rules as to what is and what is not
WORK AND PLAY 219
allowed, and these have the authority of genera-
tions of players behind them. Their prestige is
therefore so great that no adolescent would dream
of questioning them, however irksome he may
find them. Moreover, " passing the ball " begins
to add to the zest of the game as the skill of the
players increases, and cheating, or refusal to obey
those in authority, is found to spoil sport instead
of adding to it. Thus actual personal experience
gradually teaches the players various lessons of
the greatest social importance, and experience is,
as we know, the only really effective teacher of
such lessons.
Needless to say, these lessons cannot be learnt
as readily as the rules of the game. Fair play,
even if it is to the disadvantage of one's own side,
and obedience to leaders of one's own choosing,
even when their commands are unpalatable, are
ideals which can only be established by degrees.
Hence, an older umpire or coach, who teaches
them as part of the game, is essential during the
first few years. By the age of fifteen or sixteen
the adolescent should, however, be able to manage
his own game without help from his elders.
As already stated, the power of doing a thing
purely for its own sake, without thought of
ulterior purpose, is, on the whole, on the decrease
during early adolescence, but this should be only
a phase in the development of the individual.
220 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
Adolescence is the period during which aesthetic
perceptions develop : gradually beauty of form,
colour and sound become enjoyable for their own
sake and sunset and sea begin to have messages
which are none the less real because they are too
vague to be expressed in words. There results
much day-dreaming, but also a desire for self-
expression which will sooner or later find an
outlet in some form of art or craft-work, if
only the environment is favourable. Work of
this kind is true play in the sense defined. The
worker is usually convinced that he has a good
reason for engaging on any particular piece of
work, but that does not prove much. Thanks
to our traditions, it takes more independence of
thought than is usual in adolescence to own,
even to one's self, that one is putting forth
strenuous effort without at least the desire to
produce something " useful " ; hence a purpose
of some kind has its value in justifying one's
occupation to one's self. We need, however, only
watch the artist or craftsman at his work to see
that the real attraction lies in the scope it gives
for self-expression and that the ulterior purpose,
so far from being primary, is continually in danger
of being forgotten.
Another form of true play which does not
develop until adolescence is the pursuit of know-
ledge for its own sake. At the age of fifteen
WORK AND PLAY 221
or sixteen young people often find this a fascinat-
ing form of activity, for it enables them to use
their growing powers of abstraction and general-
isation and satisfies impulses that are often in
urgent need of activity, such as the impulse to
investigate and the impulse to construct. As in
the case of art work, the adolescent can usually
give a reason for the task he has set himself,
but where the task is of his own choosing, a
little observation usually soon shows that it is
really love of study which has made him attempt
it.
C. 'The Educational Value of Flay
The reader who has followed this description of
the activities of children and adolescents must have
been struck with the educational value of play.
At first the child lives entirely in the present, and
life is therefore all play ; yet he is learning all the
time. In play he gains control over his muscles, in
play he imitates the adults of his environment and
adopts their customs and beliefs. Then, as he
becomes conscious of himself as a lasting entity,
he begins to enjoy play mixed with work, but
it is only towards the end of childhood that
he becomes able to do " pure work " to any large
extent. In adolescence play has still the same
functions to fulfil as in childhood, but there are
now additional reasons why adequate provision
222 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
should be made for it. Adolescence is the time
when life seems full of perplexities, because
irreconcilable sentiments are continually being
brought into conflict with each other : respect
for tradition with love of knowledge, desire for
the safe life of the home with longing for
independence and adventure. Unless the indi-
vidual is handled wisely, the result is usually a
state of nervous strain, which may show itself in
various forms, such as violent emotional outbursts,
morbid self-analysis, or that uncontrolled "gig-
gling " to which adolescent girls seem, peculiarly
liable. And it is just at this stage that the mass
of our young people begin to earn their living
by work which, under modern conditions, is either
quite uneducational, or, at best, so specialised
that it only develops some small part of their
inborn powers.
Probably life can never run quite smoothly
during adolescence, even under ideal conditions,
for the youth has to organise his sentiments
and to submit himself to a certain amount of
specialisation, if he is to become fit for modern
community life. Overstrain can, however, be
avoided by providing sufficient leisure and oppor-
tunity for hobbies and games. What will succeed
in a particular case must, of course, depend on
the taste and ability of the individual, but experi-
ence has shown that organised games and inde-
WORK AND PLAY 223
pendent constructive work (especially if of the
nature of art work) usually meet the needs of
the case by giving the youth that feeling of
freedom and inner harmony which he often finds
so hard to attain in his ordinary relations with
other people. Besides this, he needs, among
other things, gymnastics, swimming and dancing
to develop his physical powers ; camping or walk-
ing tours to satisfy his love of adventure ; and
last, but not least, time which he can call
absolutely his own and of which he can therefore
dispose as he likes.
The spare-time occupations of the adolescent
are thus of the greatest educational importance,
their function being : (i) to aid the development
of his latent powers ; (2) to counteract the effects
of unduly specialised or mechanical work ; (3) to
act as safety-valves for the emotional strain
which is unavoidable at this stage ; and (4) to
teach him various social virtues through direct
experience of their value.
D. Passive Play
The reader may have observed that nearly
all the play activities wc have discussed so far
owe their attraction to the fact that they give
us opportunities for self-expression ; we may
be merely *' letting off steam," or we may be
trying our powers in one way or another; but
224 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
so long as we are playing, we must be con-
scious of free personal effort of some kind, other-
wise we find our occupation dull, and turn our
attention to something else. There are, how-
ever, other forms of play in which the pleasure
seems rather to lie in the opportunity they
provide for " self-/or^(f///Ǥ- " : thus an interesting
novel or a good performance at a theatre may
become so absorbing that we find even such slight
forms of self-expression as custom demands (e.g.
clapping) a hindrance to our enjoyment. At such
times the pleasure of the experience depends on
the extent to which we can forget our individual
needs and become part of the drama that is being
presented to us.
Play of this kind is often called " passive
play." This is, however, hardly a true descrip-
tion of it, unless it is intended to emphasise
the fact that it renders our self-assertiveness
passive for the time being. As every one knows,
we are active enough in other ways. At times
we succeed in identifying ourselves with one or
other of the actors, and thus experience his joys
and sorrows as though they were our own, and
even if we cannot forget that we are only specta-
tors, we must yet use a certain minimum of
imagination if we are to enjoy the unravelling
of the plot. As we concentrate on the drama,
the mind becomes filled with it to the exclusion
WORK AND PLAY 225
of all else, with the result that we experience
an impulse to imitate the actors (cf. Imitation,
footnote, p. 147). Imaginative children at times
act on such an impulse, especially if they are watch-
ing a staged play and are not merely listening to a
story. They gradually learn that it is a pity to
do this, partly because public opinion is against it,
but quite as much because any attempt to act
on such percepts necessarily destroys the illusion
and thereby puts an end to their enjoyment. They
then try to control the impulse, allowing them-
selves only incipient actions, such as the clenching
of the fists and thus force the energy that is set
free into the only path that is left for it, namely,
that of emotional expression. Passive play of the
kind we have described seems therefore to stimu-
late both the imaginative and the emotional life
of the individual, and to depend for its existence
on his ability to merge his own personality in that
of others (cf. Psychological Sympathy, p. 1 50).
Much the same seems to be true whatever
form of passive play we examine : the spectator
who is watching a hockey or football match will
take little pleasure in what he is perceiving, if
he cannot identify himself with one or other side
and thus give scope to his power to reproduce
in himself the impulses that actuate the players
{e.g. the desire to fight) ; and the person who is
enjoying beauty, whether in Nature or in art,
Q
22 6 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
probably depends on imagination and psychological
sympathy in a similar manner, though his experi-
ence is often so vague or so complex that it
is impossible to analyse it with any certainty.
Finally, it should be noticed that true passive play
is incompatible with criticism because the attitude
of the critic is that of an outsider who is com-
paring his views or his interpretation with that of
another, whereas passive play depends on our
power to forget our own individuality and what-
ever else might spoil the illusion. As a matter
of fact, our so-called passive play is in reality
more often a mixture of the active and the passive,
for we are only passive while we are absolutely
carried away by what we are perceiving, and
become active whenever the self wakes up suffi-
ciently to wonder whether this change of plan was
wise, or that act true to life.
To sum up, true passive play depends on the
complete surrender of the self to the guidance of
another and provides, in return, food for the
imagination and for various emotions. All the
same, it is not a sign of weakness of will to enjoy
it ; there are many persons who are by no means
lacking in self-assertion and who yet find it a
fascinating form of play. Nor is it sufficient to
point out that we often resort to passive play
when we are too much fatigued to enjoy anything
that involves effort, since we certainly derive at
WORK AND PLAY 227
least as much pleasure from it when we are
feeling fresh and energetic. The attraction of
passive play must therefore lie in the stimulus it
gives to imagination and emotion. In the case of
imagination, it is not surprising that activity is
pleasurable, seeing that every imaginative act
involves building up and is therefore a product
of the constructive impulse which has, as we know,
plenty of energy at its disposal.^ It is more difficult
to account for the pleasure we take in living the
emotional life of another, especially if that other is
only a creature of the imagination, yet the pleasure
is real enough, as we all know from personal experi-
ence. Moreover, our enjoyment does not depend
entirely on the quality of what we are perceiving.
A really good book may fail to stir us if we are
not in the mood for it, whereas quite a poor novel
may hold us enthralled on a particular day because
we happen to be attuned to it. Similarly we
must be in the mood for watching a match, for
perceiving the beauty of a thunderstorm, and
indeed for any kind of play or work, in order
to enjoy it to the utmost.
As in the case of active play and work, to be
" in the mood " for an occupation is equivalent
to wanting to do it. If then we may look upon
sentiments and complexes as " storage batteries "
^ It will be remembered that the activity of any impulse is
pleasurable so long as it is not over-stimulated (sec p. 139).
228 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
for nervous energy in the way we suggested in an
earlier chapter (see p. 58), it follows that the nature
of our mood depends on the distribution of our
nervous energy at the moment, for the centres
which have most superfluous energy will also
have the greatest need for an outlet, In active
play and in work most of this energy is expended
in action ; in passive play this path is blocked and
the energy has therefore to escape almost entirely
as emotion. This suggests that passive play is of
the nature of a safety-valve, of which the individual
makes use when too tired for personal efforts or
when he can find no other legitimate outlet for
sentiments and complexes which are becoming
overcharged with energy.
As was pointed out in the chapter on Sentiments
and Complexes, the adolescent is particularly in
need of a safety-valve of some kind, for he has
so many contradictory impulses surging within
him that he is likely to be faced with repression
or rebellion as his only alternative if he is left
to his own resources. We have also seen that
organised games and art and craft-work are in-
valuable in this connection, but passive play is
needed as well, for young people are at times
assailed by longings — whether vague or definite —
which they cannot satisfy in any other way.
Passive play has, moreover, another effect on
behaviour which we have not yet considered. At
WORK AND PLAY 229
the moment the onlooker merely absorbs what is
given him, but this is by no means the end of the
matter. The more the percept has appealed to
him, that is to say, the greater the relief it has
given to unsatisfied impulses, the more will the
individual enjoy dwelling on it afterwards and
the more anxious will he be to try to imitate his
heroes (cf. Suggestion, p. 198), so that his passive
play is likely to affect both his work and his
active play in the long run. This tendency may
clearly be for good or for evil ; for good if the
percepts suggest desirable outlets for what Is
simmering within him, for evil if they suggest
either undesirable or wildly unlikely outlets.
Thus a cinematograph performance may stimulate
a boy to join the scouts or to learn life-saving,
but it may also suggest to him that burglary or
cheating would give him just those thrills for
which he is longing. The little maid-of-all-
work, who is on duty the greater part of the day,
is driven to books to satisfy her longing for
romance, but the penny novelettes to which she
usually resorts can at best only make her feel that
life is very unfair because the rich lover about
whom she is always reading never seems to come
her way.
To sum up, passive play affects behaviour in
two ways : on the one hand it provides temporary
relief for internal pressure by enabling the
230 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
individual to discharge superfluous energy as
emotion, on the other it suggests possible activities
for future occasions. These activities may, of
course, be good, bad or indifferent, but it is the
fault of the environment, rather than that of the
adolescent, if his pursuit of passive play has an
undesirable effect on his behaviour. It is some-
times held that this form of recreation is liable
to encourage day-dreaming to a harmful extent.
This may be true at times, but it is then usually
the health of the youth or his environment which
is to blame. It is rare for any one who is not
lacking in vitality to prefer to let his energy
evaporate in emotion if he is given the opportunity
to express himself in action ; but he may none the
less be driven to adopt this course, if it is the only
one which offers him the satisfaction which he
desires.
CHAPTER XI
CONCLUSION
We have defined education as the preparation
for efficient citizenship and we can now see more
clearly how important is the part which the com-
munity must play in this process. It is true that
the possibilities of each individual are limited by
the strength or weakness of his inborn powers
and tendencies ; but character is the product of so
many forces that it is safe to assert that every
child of normal intelligence and stability has within
him the material out of which a useful member of
society could be fashioned in a suitable environ-
ment. It would be optimistic to imagine that
many young people are actually given the oppor-
tunity of making the best of what is within them.
Yet every failure means at least as much loss to
the community as to the individual.
If our efforts are to be attended by more
success in the future, the general attitude towards
problems of behaviour will have to become far
more scientific than it is at present. Not only
the specialist here and there, but every teacher
and parent will have to realise that the actions of
231
232 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
an individual are the outward expression of a
highly complex system of forces which must be
understood, if it is to be handled wisely. As a
minimum every one who is responsible for young
people should know enough about centres of
potential activity to be able to judge what con-
ditions are likely to be favourable to the growth
of a particular sentiment in a particular case and
to appreciate the extent to which sentiments and
complexes influence both our own behaviour and
our estimate of the behaviour of others. He will
then be able to deal effectively with defaulters,
because he will have learnt to see through an act
to the motive behind it, and will therefore be able
to remove the cause, instead of having to confine
his attention to the symptoms.
As we have seen, an apparent failing may really
be due to the fact that the environment does not
provide a suitable outlet for a tendency which is
in itself highly desirable. In such a case the cure
is obvious. In others it may be necessary to help
the youth to develop new interests, or to modify
his idea of his " self " in some way. Here and there
both teacher and parents will, however, come across
a failing which does not yield to their treatment,
either because they have misunderstood its origin,
or because it is due to the activity of a repressed
complex. In such cases they should be able to
consult a trained specialist who is qualified to give
CONXLUSION 233
proper psychological treatment, but unfortunately
it is at present only here or there that such a
course is even within the realms of possibility.
In short, the psychology of behaviour teaches
us that a community has only itself to blame for
the vast majority of its failures and semi-failures,
but that this wastage is likely to continue until
there is a far more widespread appreciation of the
importance of studying the forces which govern
conduct. At present we are often trying to
control where we should be trying to understand.
For convenience of reference 1 shall conclude by
re-stating briefly the more important of the facts
which have been established in the course of this
book : —
(i) In the last resort every form of activity can
be traced back to self-preservation, to race
preservation, or to the combined effect of these
two sources of energy.
(2) In the higher animal the ends of self-
preservation and race preservation are attained by
certain innate forms of activity which allow for
varying degrees of adaptability. Of these the
most primitive form is the pure reflex, which is an
inborn tendency to react in one particular way to
one particular stimulus or set of stimuli. Next
come certain forms of behaviour which are partly
under the control of the individual, and finally
forms in which there is only an inborn tendency
234 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
to attain a certain end, so that the stimuli which
rouse it and the reactions through which it seeks
to attain its end are acquired through experience.
The student of human behaviour is in the main
concerned with the last of these — the " impulses,"
as they have been called in this book.
(3) Many of our impulses are connected innately
with more or less complex systems of reflexes.
Where such an organisation exists, part of the
energy which is set free by the percept is drafted
off automatically to the corresponding system of
reflexes. This accounts for the bodily changes
which accompany hunger, fear and anger and
perhaps for the outward changes of expression
which form part of every well-defined emotion.
(4) When more energy is set free by a percept
or idea than can be expended in attaining the end
of the impulse that has been roused by it, the
surplus energy tends to escape through the reflexes
which belong to the system of that impulse, with
the result that we experience what we call an
emotion. Much of this energy can, however, be
diverted to other forms of activity and the extent
to which an individual can prevent an overflow, by
diverting it in this way in times of stress, measures
his control over his emotions, or his " self-control."
(5) Every check to the free flow of activity of
any kind tends to stimulate the self-preservative
impulses. The resulting action depends on the
CONCLUSION 235
meaning which the obstacle has for the individual
in question. If he regards it as dangerous, he
becomes aware of a desire to avoid it ; if not, he
is more likely to want to overcome it.
(6) There is reason to believe that memory and
imagination developed primarily in aid of self-
preservation and that every individual is endowed
with a natural tendency to make use of his mental
powers when he is faced with an obstacle which
he wants to overcome.
(7) The way in which an individual interprets
any particular stimulus depends on his previous
experience and on his mood at the moment. His
mood probably depends on the distribution of his
nervous energy at the time, and this in turn is
influenced by his disposition and his general
attitude towards life.
(8) In the course of the second year of his life
a child usually becomes aware of himself as an
individual with needs and rights of his own. At
first his concept of his function in life is necessarily
crude and limited, but it tends to change through-
out the childhood and adolescence and it remains
liable to modification as long as the individual is
able to learn from experience. In any particular
case the final idea of the " self " is the combined
product of the innate possibilities of the individual
and of the pressure which has been exerted by
his environment.
236 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
(9) In so far as a child is clearly aware of his
own individuality, self-preservation makes him
anxious to adapt his behaviour to his idea of his
" self," with the result that this idea becomes a
centre of increasingly great potential activity.
(10) Every individual tends to form sentiments
for the persons, objects and ideas which affect the
well-being of the self, either directly or indirectly.
These centres derive their energy more or less
directly from the self-regarding sentiment, and
their strength and permanence are consequently
dependent on the extent to which they fulfil some
need of the self.
(11) There is reason to believe that impulses
can become surcharged with energy and that they
then seek relief through any object, no matter
how unpromising. Once this has occurred, the
object in question has thereby become a centre
of potential activity, the permanence of which
depends on the extent to which it is able to satisfy
the impulse which is in need of an outlet, and, in
the case of self-conscious beings, on the attitude
of the self towards the resulting act.
(12) Gregariousness is in its simplest form
the outward expression of fear of solitude. In
human beings its manifestations are, however,
usually complicated by the individual's need for
friendship. Both of these are centres of potential
activity which develop during early childhood and
CONCLUSION 237
affect behaviour throughout life in innumerable
ways. Alone, or combined with other forces, they
are responsible for the phenomena which we have
studied in connection with suggestion, imitation,
love of approval, sympathy and pity.
(13) When an object ceases to satisfy the
needs of the self, the energy which was centred
round it may be transferred to some other object,
whether old or new. If this does not occur, the
energy is reabsorbed by the self and usually finds
an outlet in some form of day-dreaming, brooding
or self-criticism.
(14) A centre of potential activity is in-
destructible so long as it is the only one which
can satisfy some need of the self or provide an
outlet for an impulse which is liable to become
surcharged with energy. If the conscious self
disapproves of a sentiment, it may succeed in
*' forgetting " the same, but this merely drives the
system below the surface of consciousness, where it
continues to affect behaviour by such means as are
at its disposal. An undesirable sentiment can be
rendered harmless : (i) by diverting the energy
from it to some other object which satisfies the
same need of the self, or (2) by modifying the
idea of the self in such a way that that need ceases
to exist.
(15) Sentiments and complexes tend to form
in their service such new centres of potential
238 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
activity and such habits as are likely to help them
to attain their ends.
(i6) In so far as different percepts rouse the
same centre of potential activity, they tend to
produce similar habits, if they recur with sufficient
frequency. The reaction to any particular percept
can, however, only become automatic for that
percept.
(17) Ideas which occur together or in close
sequence tend to become associated together in
such a way that any one of them is thereafter
liable to recall one or more of the others.
(18) "The laws of association tend to dis-
organise all systems of character in so far as they
introduce into them constituents which are useless
or harmful, and lead to the formation of bad
habits ; but they also subserve them by strengthen-
ing serviceable connections which lead to the
formation of good habits. The law of organisa-
tion, on its side, tends to exclude from those
systems aU constituents that owe their presence
there to the action of association alone " (Shand,
Foundations of Character y p. 70).
19) Will-power is the power to strengthen a
motive by energy derived from the self-regarding
sentiment. It is therefore the name given to the
impulse to fight when that impulse is roused in
support of a sentiment or habit.
(20) The strength of a person's character is
CONCLUSION 239
shown by the extent to which he is consistent in
his behaviour.
In order to attain a really strong character, the
individual must: (i) choose a master-aim which
has a sufficient element of permanence to outlast
the ordinary accidents of life ; (2) organise all his
other sentiments in relation to this aim ; (3) form
suitable habits of choice ; and (4) check the growth
of habits and sentiments which are likely to hinder
him in his purpose.
The extent to which an individual succeeds in
developing a strong character depends : (i) on his
will-power; (2) on his disposition or general attitude
towards life ; (3) on the strength of the sentiment
which he is able to form round his master-aim ;
(4) on the strength of rival sentiments and (5)
on the extent to which his environment proves a
help or a hindrance.
(21) A strong character is not necessarily a fine
character. We judge the quality of an individual's
character at least as much by the quality of his
master-sentiment as by the extent to which he is
consistent in his actions.
(22) Work may be defined as an activity which
is initiated by the consciousness of the self as a
lasting entity, play as an activity which is the
direct expression of the desires of the moment.
Childhood is the time for pure play, because the
young child lives entirely in the present. As he
240 THE EDUCATION OF BEHAVIOUR
grows older he becomes capable of work, because
experience gradually teaches him that actions are
liable to produce pleasant or unpleasant results
long after they have taken place.
(23) It is almost impossible to exaggerate the
educational value of " pure play " and of those
mixtures of work and play in which the play
element is predominant. Occupations of this
nature develop the latent powers of the individual,
act as safety-valves in times of emotional strain,
teach various social virtues through direct ex-
perience of their value, and, in the case of
adolescents, counteract the effects of the unduly
specialised or mechanical work which is often
unavoidable at this age.
(24) " Passive play " depends on the com.plete
surrender of the self to the guidance of another,
and provides in return food for impulses and
centres of potential activity which cannot find
sufficient outlet in actual life. A case in point
is the constructive impulse, which readily becomes
overcharged with energy and which finds an easy
outlet in the activities of the imagination.
(25) Passive play often lays the foundation for
future play and work by suggesting new forms of
activity to the individual. It is not likely to lead
to undue day-dreaming in any person who is
in normal health and who is given suitable
opportunities of expressing himself in action.
CONCLUSION 241
(26) The psychology of behaviour teaches us
that a community has only itself to blame for the
vast majority of its failures and semi-failures, but
that this wastage is likely to continue until there
is a far more widespread appreciation of the
importance of studying the forces which govern
behaviour.
R
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Boyd Barrett, Motive Force and Motivation Tracks. (7_iOngmans.)
Bruce, Handicaps of Childhood. (Kegan Paul.)
Freud, Psycho-pathology of Everyday Life. (T. Fisher Unwin.)
- Galton, Enquiry into the Human Faculty. (Dent.)
Healy, Mental Conflicts and Misconduct. (Kegan Paul.)
Holt, The Freudian Wish. (T. Fisher Unwin.)
W. James, Textbook of Psychology. (Macmillan.)
„ Principles of Psychology. (Macmillan.)
]v}iGy Analytical Psychology. (Baillere.)
Lay, Ike Child's Unconscious Mind. (Kegan Paul.)
^ LovEDAY and Green, Introduction to Psychology. (Oxford
University Prr.,;s.)
' McDovGkhh, Introduction to Social Psychology. (Methuen.)
NuNN, Education: Its Data and First Principles. (Edward
Arnold.)
Herbert Spencer, Education : Intellectual, Moral and Physical.
(Williams and Norgate.)
Shand, Foundations of Character. (Macmillan.)
-' Trotter, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War. (T. Fisher
Unwin.)
Cannon, Bodily Changes in Pain, Hunger, Fear and Rage.
(Appleton.)
LicKLEY, The 'Nervous System. (Longmans.)
Caldwell Cook, The Play Way. (Heinemann.)
ir- Dewey, Schools of To-morrow. (Dent.)
• Groos, The Play of Animals. (Appleton.)
„ The Play of Man. (Heinemann.)
Woods, Advance in Coeducation. (Sidgwick and Jackson.)
„ Educational Experiments in England. (Methuen.)
242
INDEX
Ability, effect on impulse to
construct, 52
Ach, 170, 172, 193, 194, 196
Activity, impulsive, 60, 107
in connection with re-
flexes, 108, 109
potential, 58, 60, 232, 236, 240
reflex, 104
Acts, purposeless explained, 82
Adolescence, 72
aesthetic development during,
220
impulse to collect during, 50
impulse to investigate during,
48
self-assertion during, 35
time of active choice, 5
unsuitable work during, 222
work and play during, 218
Adolescent, 5, 87, 145, 221
activities of, 217
self-absorption of, 157 seq.
sex instruction of, 41
shyness of, 162
spare-time of, 223
sympathy of, 156, 157
Adrenaline, 108
Anna, 84
Approval, 183
a "lawful" obstacle, 187
love of, 184, 198
causes summarised, 92
in training of character, 189
various causes of, 90
Association areas, 105
Associations, by contiguity, 79,
80, 238
method of free, 78, 81, 85, 86,
118
Attainments, dependent on en-
vironment, 3
Awareness, loss of, 133 note
Axon, 99
Bagley, 131
Bain, 79
Behaviour, 78-80
consistency in, 173
effect on repressed complexes,
82
factors deciding, 5
importance of desire in, li
impulsive, 185
influenced by sentiments and
complexes, 232
scientifically investigated, 231,
241
Blame, grading of, 189
in training of character, 188
Boyd Barrett, 172
experiment of, 123
Table I, 125
Table II, 126
Bruce, 162
Cerebellum, its function, 103
Cerebrum, distribution of nerve-
centres in, 104
its function, 103, 106
Chance, defined, 120
Character, a "fine," 178
based on sentiments, 173
defined, 164
psychology of, Chap. VIII
strength of, 173, 196, 238
training of, 179
Choice, automatic, 128
difiiculties in, 177
exhibits character, 164
forces determining, 164
inconsistency of, 129
Michotte and Prum's experi-
ment in, 172
Citizen, 10
characteristics of an efficient, 2
Coeducation, its value, 39
Collateral, 99
243
244
INDEX
Community, 231
Competition, between children,
215
between groups, 216
Complexes, Chap. IV, 115, 164,
227, 236
primitive, 62, 209
repressed, 82, 116, 232
outlets in disguised form,
83
habits originating from, 85,
118
unconscious, 86
Conduct, influence of environ-
ment, 3-5
stages of, 184
Conflict, in desire for friendship,
89
Copying, its function, 65
Crowd, 87, 148
its effect on impulse and emotion,
149
Cruelty, a form of revenge, 152
Curiosity, 15, 46, 47
Day-dreaming, 209, 220, 240
Defaulters, 232
Dendron, 99
Desire, conflict of, 73, 74
for right action, 5
in growth of habits, 133
to help, 151
to win approval, 6, 8
Diabetes, 168
Disapproval, 183
a " lawful " obstacle, 187
Disobedience, apparent, 6-8
real, 6-8
Displeasure, 192
Disposition, 165, 239
physiological basis, 166
Economic conditions, eff"ect of, 48
Education, as preparation for
citizenship, i
of impulse to avoid danger, 31
of mating impulse, 40
Egotism of young child, 33
Emotion, connection with im-
pulse, 17
Emotion, control of, 141 seq.
defined, 17
expression in, 150, 234
its dangers, 150
James-Lange theory of, 136, 138,
139
physiological changes in, 1 37
pleasure-toned, 139, 140
preferred to action, 230
uncontrolled, 140
Environment, 38, 97, 116, 134,
141, 152, 156, 167, 188, 202,
214, 230
artificial, 183
defined, 10
eff^ect on impulses, 30, 34, 47,
51
effect on sentiments, 59, 63, 68,
76
limitations of, 9
scope of, 2, 231
source of foolhardiness, 32
Experience, lessons from direct,
182
personal, 155, 219
previous, 235
repressed in little children, 82
Expression, emotional, 225, 234
facial, 139, 147
Failures fault of community. 233,
241
Fatigue, 226
Fear, 29, 30, 31, 45, 46, 234
changed to self-assertion, 62
as complex or sentiment,
88
in adults, 89
in child, 88
of being alone, 96
of Life, repressed, 159, 160
Feeling tone, 18, 136
Foolhardiness, 31
Freedom of individual, 196
Freud, 71, 73
Friendship, 69, 88, 91
Games, during adolescence, 222
organised, 218
social importance of, 219
INDEX
245
Gangs, 67, 216
unstable in young children, 89
Geography, abnormal interest in,
84
Gregariousness, 188, 212, 236
as fear of being alone, 88
in relation to love of approval, 90
interaction with self-assertion,
92
its effects on behaviour, 87
its effect on sympathy, 146, 152
psychology of, 87
Group, 188
Habit, Chap. VI, 79, 80, 106
consciously acquired, 115, 1 16
effect of chance, 120
law of, no
unconsciously acquired, 115,
116, 119
Habit of choice, 144, 193
experiments on, 131 seq.
hindrance in development of,
130
in development of self-control,
145
in formation of character, 174
origin of, 114
so-called transference of, 130
theoretically considered, 131
Habits, rules for acquiring, 122
specialised, 189
their formation, 121
treatment of undesirable, 122,
185
Habitual response, automatic, 1 1 1
resisted, in
value of, 113
Head, 166
Help harmful, 153
Heredity, scope of, 2
Hero worship, 69, 87
in development of individual,
71
sham and genuine, ^o
Hesitation, 128. See also Inde-
cision.
Hobbies, 55, 217, 222
satisfy impulse to construct, 53
Human being, impulse in, 22
Human being, reflex in, 22
Hunger, 234
Ideas, early association of, 65, 66
in relation to impulses, 12
Ideals, 200
growth of, 197, 204
m regulation of conduct, 184
origin of, 197
Imagination, 106, 155, 235, 240
in passive play, 224 seq.
its origin, 227
Imitate, to, 67
Imitation, 94, 147, 22$. See also
Copying,
conscious, 95, 96
unconscious, 96, 97
Impulse, Chaps. II and III, 10,
iz^ 139, 141, 221, 236
adaptabihty, 2i
always momentary, 54
cannot be killed, 32
contrasted with sentiment, 56,
59
defined, 14, 233
development of, 211
educable, 22
effect of blocking, 14, 16
in race and self-preservation, 26
specific reactions to, 23, 24
survival value, 27
term preferred to instinct, 25
varying strength of, 8
to assert oneself 32, 40
to avoid danger, 13,28, 107, 137
to collect, 19, 50
to construct, 18, 51, 52, 53, 61,
227
to fight, 36, 107
to investigate, 28, 39 seq., 45,
48, 49
to protect the weak, 42 seq. ,151,
154
to seek a mate, 36 seq.
Impulses, individual differences
in, 165
Impulsive, defined, 60 note
Indecision, 123. See also Hesita-
tion.
Indifference, apparent, 57
246
INDEX
Inferiority, feeling of, 199
Innate differences, their effect on
sentiments, 59
Instinct, 88, 89
difficulties in definition of, 25
note
Interest, instability of, 61
place in development of in-
dividual, 56
Interests, as sentiments, 55
depending on intercourse with
others, 88
in relation to impulse to collect,
. 50 .
in relation to impulse to in-
vestigate, 45
Introspection, 64, 128
Inventor, his importance to group,
49
James, 1 37, 169
Judgment, difficulties in formation
of, 77
J»ng, 71, 73. 84, 85
Kindergarten, 43
Knowledge, acquisition of, 9
its dependence on environment,
47
Lange, 137
Love, egotistic, 66, 67
for parent, 91
Master, as hero, 74
McDoiigall, 88, 89, 92 note, 173
quoted, 184
Medulla oblongata, its function,
103
Memory, 106, 235
Michotte, 1 70 seq.
experiment of, 171
Midbrain, its function, 103
Mind tunnelling, 78, 86
Mood, 227, 235
its origin, 228
Motivation, 123
Motive, 135
Muscles, co-ordination of coarser,
210
co-ordination of finer, 214
Myers, 166
Nail-biting, 117
Neatness, 131
as an ideal, 132
Nervous system, autonomic, 102
central, 102
interdependence of physiological
and psychological changes,
106
its functions summarised, 109
physiology of, Chap. V
structure of, 102, 103
Neurone, 98
continuity of function, 99
response to stimuli, 100
Obstacles, "lawful," i8o
defined, 180 note
"lawless," 180
defined, 180 note
Origin, the, of children, 84, 85
Pain, avoidable 28, 29
Patronage, 151
Percept, 58
effect on distribution of energy,
in relation to impulse, 12-13
Percepts, 42
arousing fear, 29
Perception, 106
Perseveration, defined, 168
effect on behaviour, 168
Pets in kindergarten, 43
Phthisis, 168
Play Chap. X
as means of self-expression, 223
defined, 208, 239
differentiated, 206
during infancy, 210
imaginative, 211, 213
in adult, 208, 209
in child, 208
in pursuit of knowledge, 220
involving skill, 211
its educational value, 221
pure, subordinated, 216
unimaginative, 211
passive, 22\ seq., 240
INDEX
247
Play, passive, criticism in, 226
imitation in, 229
summarised, 230
Pleasure, 170, 193, 196
its physiological effect, 191
Pons, its function, 103
Pot-hooks, 96
Praise, grading of, 189
in training of character, 188
Pride, 15
Prum, 170 seq.
experiment of, 171
Psycho-analysis, 116
Psychology, modern analytic, 73,
78, 80
Public opinion, 69, 76, 87
influence of, 67
strength of, 92
Punishments, 185
arbitrary, 186
natural, 190
their danger, 183
Race preservation, 233
as source of impulses, 26
at expense of self-preservation,
27
Reaction, development of, 24
primary form checked, 17
types of, 23
Reasoning, 106
Recognition, 106
Recreation through emotion, 150
Reflex, Chap. II, 23, 26-28
defined, 20, 233
differentiated from impulse, 19,
20
in race-preservation, 27
in self-preservation, 27
its primitive nature, 21
physiology of, lOO
uneducable, 22
Religious exercises, 158
Repetition, in formation of habits,
no
physiological and psychological,
aspects of, 106
Repression, resistance in recall,
87
Reproof deferred, 207
Resistance, its effect on habits,
121, 122
Response, variations in, 165
Responsibility of child, 2
of educator, 2
Rewards, 185
natural, 190
their danger, 183
Ruediger, 132, 133
School, giving help in, 44
sex instruction in, 40
Self, and non-self, 34
in acts of will, 169, 172
social ideal of, 76
the, 75, 207, 235, 239
Self-absorption, cause, 163
Self-assertion, 57, 90, 92, 95, 153,
200, 212
as immediate cause of pugnacity,
in relation to protective impulse,
42
in sympathy, 151
Self-assertiveness, 224. See also
Self-assertion.
Self-consciousness, characteristic
of sentiment, 62
Self-control, 89, 141, 145, 234
its development, 143 seq.
Self-forgetting, 224
Self-preservation, 31, 32, 157, 233
as source of impulses, 26
Self-regard, 97, 149, 176, 188, 194,
197, 198, 202, 238
as source of volition, 173
its development, 75
its effect on choice, 172
Self-respect, 190. See also Self-
regard.
Self-subjection, 92 7iote
Sentiment, Chap. IV
as cause of fixed likes and dis-
likes, 55
as centre of potential activity, 54
defined, 58
development of, 63
during adolescence, 69
effect on habits and judgment,
77
248
INDEX
Sentiment, effect summarised, 78
master, 175, 239
self-regarding. See Self-regard.
sources analysed, 62, 64, 75
varying in permanence, 61
Sentiments, 64, 73, 115, 119, 164,
227, 236
Sex instruction, duty of parent,
41
duty of school, 41
Shand, 58 note, 78, 165
quoted, 174, 238
Shyness, cause and cure, 163
Skill, children's games of, 214
Social intercourse, 160 seq.
Spencer, Herbert, i
Spinal cord, 102
Squire, 131, 132, 133
Standards of behaviour, as senti-
ments, 55
of conduct, 68
graded, 196
Strain, emotional, 158, 222
Study, love of, 159
Sublimation, 85, 117
Suggestible defined, 93
Suggestibility, 197
Suggestion defined, 93
direct, 197, 199
experiment in, 200 seq.
indirect, 197
mass, 197
defined, 94
prestige, 65, 197
defined, 94
Suggestions, from superiors, equals
and inferiors, 93, 94
Sympathy, Chap. VII B.
checked by shyness, 162
in adolescence, 156
Sympathy, in desire to help, 151
its growth in childhood, 155 seq.
its psychology, 146
pure, defined, 154
true, 151
Temperament, physiology of, 167
Thalamus, 107
optic, 166
Thumb-sucking, 117, 194
Thyroid gland, 167
Tools, delicate, 214
purposefully used, 213
Treatment, psychological, 233
Trotter, 88, 89
Unconscious, the, 72
Unpleasure, 170, 178
its physiological effect, 191
Vernier Chronoscope, 124
Weapons used to overcome
obstacles, 15-16
Will-power, 165, 226, 239
Ach's experiment on, 170
defined, 169
essential to strength of character,
174
origm, 173
limitations illustrated, 176
Work, Chap. X
art and craft, as play, 220
as emotional relief, 1 58
beginning of, 213, 217
defined, 208, 239
differentiated, 206
during adolescence, 218
during infancy, 210
Yule, 120
Printed in Great Britain for the University of London Press. Ltd.
by Richard Clay & Sons, Ltd., London and Bungay.
370.15 S272EC.1
Saxby # The education of
behaviour ; a psychologic
LU
CO
3 0005 02084365
(/<>
^a*
'=f)
370.15
S272E
Saxby
Education of behaviour: a
psychological study
Date Due
1
1
FORM I OB
1
/
