physical standpoint as a means for blocking old paths of discharge in the nervous system, and opening up new paths which may to advantage be utilized in the future; while on the mental side it may be considered of service in casting out old, stale and relatively harmful sets of ideas that have centered around certain forms of behavior, thus affording the opportunity for a fresh start and for the establishment of another set of ideas.

The Emotional Element in Teaching.-The relation of the emotions to the problem of teaching is not so easily determined. Some would insist that there is small place for the emotions in life, and consequently no place in the school; that the teacher should never show emotion, that the pupil should never experience it. We have seen, however, that emotion has a value in that it enables the individual and the community to break away from an habitual mode of behavior of a low order, and substitute for it modes of behavior of a higher order. It makes possible a renaissance, a re-birth. The religious revival that sweeps the community often upsets the equilibrium of the community life. Women neglect their household duties and men slight their business; there is much purposeless activity, a waste of energy that in itself is bad. Yet if the revival leads later on to a better attitude in the community life, to a more valuable form of behavior on the part of the individuals in the community, it has served a useful purpose. If it ends in mere excitement, in a religious and moral dissipation, it is not to be justified.

36. Importance of Likes and Dislikes [HOLLINGWORTH, H. L., Vocational Psychology, pp. 191-192. New York, D. Appleton & Co., 1916.]

Interests are shown to be symptomatic, to a very great extent, of present and future capacity or ability. Either because one likes what he can do well, or because one gives zeal and effort to what he likes, or because interest and ability are both symptoms of some fundamental feature of the individual's original nature, or because of the combined action of all three of these factors, interest and ability are bound very close together. The bond is so close that either may be used as a symptom for the other almost as well as for itself. The importance of these facts for the whole field of practice with respect to early diagnosis, vocational guidance, the work of social secretaries, deans, advisers and others who direct students' choices of schools, studies, and careers is obvious. They should be taken account

of in such practice until they are verified or modified by data obtained by a better method; and such data should soon be collected. The better method is, of course, to get the measurements of relative interests and of relative ability, not from memory, but at the time, and not from the individual's reports alone, but by objective tests.

37. Principles and Appreciation

[THORNDIKE, E. L., Principles of Teaching, p. 198. New York, A. G. Seiler, 1906.]

The general laws which control responses of thought and of action control also responses of feeling. The work of education is to preserve desirable instinctive emotional responses by giving them exercise and rewarding them with pleasure, to eliminate the unfit ones and to form habits of feeling the right feeling at the right time.

38. Suggestions from the James-Lange Theory [BOLTON, F. E., Everyday Psychology for Teachers, pp. 147–148. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1923.]

The educational bearings of this theory are manifold and far-reaching. Actions and states constantly repeated determine what one is. What one is he comes to believe in and the customary becomes pleasurable, at least in a negative way. Consequently it is good pedagogy to teach children, for example, to assume an attitude of cheerfulness, to sit up straight, to expand the lungs, to walk sprightly, to have a good laugh occasionally. It all reacts upon their moods. For a person to go bent over, with his back humped up and his chest drawn in, is sufficient reason for him to become low-spirited. Plenty of oxygen, sufficient muscular exercise, and good bodily postures and habits are not only conducive to but absolutely necessary to the maintenance of cheerfulness. The one who becomes anæmic and nerveless is the one who is irritable and cross. Many external conditions contribute not a little to one's emotional tone. The weather determines, more than we think, the trend of one's conduct. Poor lighting is often responsible for not only defective vision and bad headaches but also for much peevishness. Because of the intimate relations between the emotions and the intellectual and volitional states, it is important for the educator to bear in mind constantly the necessity of securing bodily comfort and emotional buoyancy. Heating, lighting, ven

tilation, all have their effects. Proper seating is a feature too little considered. Cramped position or dangling feet produce irritability, to say nothing of bodily malformations. Recesses, alternation of work and play, must also be considered in trying to secure desirable emotionable attitudes.

Through imitation one unconsciously assumes the attitudes of those about him. Consequently imitation plays a most important part in the determination of the emotions. A light-hearted person diffuses his feelings among all whom he meets. Similarly one who is low-spirited casts a spell of gloom over all his associates. Feelings are even more contagious than disease. Children are very quick to be inoculated with the moods affecting the teacher. On those days when children are badnatured, fretful, or especially trying, the cause can usually be traced to some external influence-bad weather, an irritable teacher, improper lighting, insufficient nutrition, or physical discomfort.

39. Anger in the Light of Psychoanalysis

[HALL, G. Stanley, "The Freudian Methods Applied to Anger," American Journal of Psychology, July, 1915, Vol. 26, pp. 439–443.] The reader of this selection will need to weigh and consider each thought contained in it very carefully. It is generally recognized among the psychologists that Hall went beyond the facts in many of his Freudian beliefs. Freudian methods undoubtedly have a "place in the sun," but until the technique of Freudian psychology has been greatly refined, its conclusions need to be scrutinized very carefully before they are accepted. This same statement holds true for much of our orthodox psychology, only to a lesser degree.

Anger in most of its forms is the most dynamogenic of all the emotions. In paroxysms of rage with abandon we stop at nothing short of death and even mutilation of the corpse. The Malay running amuck, Orlando Furioso, the epic of the wrath of Achilles, hell-fire . . . are some illustrations of its power. Savages work themselves into frenzied rage in order to fight their enemies. In many descriptions of its brutal aspects, which I have collected, children and older human brutes spit, hiss, yell, snarl, bite noses and ears, scratch, gouge out eyes, pull hair, mutilate sex organs, with a violence that sometimes takes on epileptic features and which in a number of recorded cases

causes sudden death as its acme, from the strain it imposes upon the system. Its cause is always some form of thwarting wish or will or of reduction of self-feeling, as anger is the acme of self-assertion. The German criminalist, Friedrich, says that probably every man might be caused to commit murder if provocation were sufficient, and that those of us who have never committed this crime owe it to circumstances and not to superior power of inhibition. Of course it may be associated with sex but probably no human experience is per se more diametrically opposite to sex.

Some temperaments seem to crave, if not need, outbreaks of it at certain intervals, like a certain well-poised lady, so sweettempered that everybody imposed on her, till one day at the age of twenty-three she had her first ebullition of temper and went about to her college mates telling them plainly what she thought of them. She went home rested and happy, full of peace that passeth understanding. Otto Heinze, and by implication Pfister, think nations that have too long or too assiduously cultivated peace must inevitably, sooner or later, relapse to the barbarisms of war to vent their instincts for combat, and Crile thinks anger most sthenic, while Cannon says it is the emotion into which most others tend to pass.

It has, of course, been a mighty agent in evolution, for those who can summate all their energies in attack have survived. But few if any impulsions of man, certainly not sex, have suffered more intense, prolonged or manifold repressions. Courts and law have taken vengeance into their own hands or tried to, and not only a large proportion of assaults, but other crimes, are still due to explosions of temper, and it may be a factor in nearly every court case. Society frowns on it, and Lord Chesterfield says the one sure and unfailing mark of a gentleman is that he never shows temper. Its manifestations are severely tabooed in home and school. Religion teaches us not to let the sun go down upon our wrath and even to turn the other cheek, so that we go through life chronically afraid that we shall break out, let ourselves go, or get thoroughly mad, so that the moment we begin to feel a rising tide of indignation or resentment (in the nomenclature of which our language is so very rich, Chamberlain having collected scores of English expressions of it), the censorship begins to check it. In many cases in our returns repression is so potent from long practice, that the sweetest smile, the kindest remarks or even deeds are used either to veil it to others, or to evict it from our own consciousness,

while in some tender consciences its checked but persistent vestiges may become centers of morbid complexes and in yet other cases it borrows and proliferates more or less unconsciously, and finds secret and circuitous ways of indulgence which only psychoanalysis or a moral or religious confessional could trace.

Anger has many modes of Verschiebung, both instinctive and cultivated. One case in our returns carries a bit of wood in his vest pocket and bites it when he begins to feel the aura of temper. Girls often play the piano loudly, and some think best of all. One plays a particular piece to divert anger, viz., the "Devil's Sonata." A man goes down cellar and saws wood, which he keeps for such occasions. A boy pounds a resonant eavespout. One throws a heavy stone against a white rock. Many go off by themselves and indulge in the luxury of expressions they want none to hear. Others take out their tantrum on the dog or cat or perhaps a younger child, or imprecate some absent enemy, while others curse. A few wound themselves, and so on, till it almost seems, in view of this long list of vicariates, as if almost any attack, psychic or physical, might thus be intensified, and almost any thing or person be made the object of passion. Be it remembered, too, that not a few look, do, think, and feel their best under this impulsion. Besides these modes of Abreagierung there are countless forms of sublimation. In anger a boy says: I will avenge myself on the bully who whipped me and whom I cannot or will not whip, by besting him in his studies, classwork, composition, or learn skillful stunts that he cannot do, dress, or behave better, use better language, keep better company, and thus find my triumph and revenge. A man rejected or scorned by a woman sometimes makes a great man of himself, with the motivation more or less developed to make her sorry or humiliated. Anger may prompt a man to go in to win his enemy's girl. A taunt or an insult sometimes spurs the victim of it to towering ambition to show the world and especially the abuser better, and to be able to despise him in return; and there are those who have been thus stung to attempt greatness and who find the sweetest joy of success in the feeling that by attaining it they compensate for indignities they suffer in youth.

In fact, when we analyze ambition and the horror of Minderwertigkeit that goes with it, we shall doubtless find this factor is never entirely absent, while if we were to apply the same pertinacity and subtlety that Jung in his "Wandlungen" has