fickleness of environment to which he is inevita- of Imitation On such an occasion as that just instanced, the child is led into a principle by what seems like a natural course. If the father should take it up as a counter-argument, the child would be given an alternative. He would have before Some Educational Bearings of the Principle him a pro and con of debate as such, and he might decide that his father's argument was the weaker, and so be harmed by it. But no one is likely to take issue with the principle which the father has led up to, that there are times in life when we must do that which is not an agreeable thing to do. The child is there fore not likely to hear this gainsaid, and it remains with him as an established principle of action. The illustrations here given of these two modes of influence-deflection and counteraction are chosen, not because they contain any thing remarkable, but because of their homeliness and commonplaceness. One illustration of each mode is sufficient. But it is not meant to imply that the range of possibility of situations and of courses of action in meeting the situations is not large and varied. Treatment of a case may be delicate, subtle, imperceptible, or it may be heroic. As a rule, however, the obtrusive and the heroic are the more commonly resorted to, and come less under that which we call influence, and are less efficient. I have not intended to write a treatise, but to be merely suggestive of two things. One is that One is that it is necessary to be incessantly conscious of the suggestive effect of environment of a present child, and the other is to be studious of the best method of defending that child from the power of a harmful environment, as well as of keeping before him those ideals which suggest his development through his own self-activity. The modes of procedure included in this formula of direction, deflection, and counteraction lay no claim to novelty. They are practiced, in whole or in part, appropriately or inappropriately, vigilantly or carelessly, regularly or spasmodically, by every well-meaning, conscientious parent and guardian of the child. But it is an advantage to have a motto, formula, or catchword which stands for a definite principle of procedure. It makes one's thinking definite, and this is to make one's action more certain. He to whom these three words have now become definitive symbols of process is less likely to be inconstant, haphazard, and ineffectual in dealing with the child in all that T has always been perfectly patent that children, not to mention adults, are very movement, however, that has brought this facimitative. It is only a comparatively recent ulty of imitation into psychological, social, and educational significance. The imitative acts of children, like the countless apple fallings, were so common that ages passed before the presence of a profound law of social gravitation was suspected. It has been the work of comparatively recent investigators and writers to bring out the extent and significance of the principle, and the forms and fields in which it finds expression. Thus Tarde and Sighele have given the function of imitation especial prominence as a factor, not only in the conservation and transmission of social ideals, but also in the growth and progress of society. Dr. J. Mark Baldwin, in a recent work on "Mental Development in the Child and the Race," gives this faculty a prominence in psychology heretofore altogether unknown. He makes the superior scope and social import of human imitation one of the chief factors which distinguishes man from brute. The students of the State Normal School, at Worcester, Mass., in observing and recording cases of the spontaneous activity of children, seem unconsciously to have hit upon nothing so persistently and commonly as imitation. It is a mysterious law pervading all the interesting manoeuvres of childhood they met with. It is always present in the many studies upon the social and historical sense of childhood; it enters into the plays and games of children. It is implicit in all studies of the child's power of expression, be it through the medium of speech, gesture or the graphic arts. A partial bibliography of investi gations and writings on the subject follows this article; we shall not need to refer here further to the extent of recent investigations along this line. The important question, educationally, is whether this function, which has been almost too common to be understood, can be better known in the light of recent work, so as to be come safe and available as a principle of educa tion? Or, in the endeavor to give it some educa What is the process of imitation? The child at birth is endowed with certain powers of sensation and action, which enter at once into play. He feels, is impressed by, the stimuli of the outer world; he responds with physical movements, in part instinctive, in part random. Through repetition, some of these movements develop into habits, so that ultimately like stimuli tend to produce like movements. But nowhere does the child display conformity to the human type more strikingly than in his movements. This motor conformity to type rests in part upon instinctive movements; the child inherits the power to reproduce without copy, and acting merely under the stimulation of conditions that normally accompany the given instinct, certain movements that he has inherited from his ancestors. But the power of type-conformity is still more grandly supplied through the function that is itself regarded as instinctive, the function of imitation. Some months after the birth of the infant a new power appears. It is a distinct advance on the simpler process of regular muscular responses to the same sense-stimuli. The distinctive feature of this new power is the reproduction of movements suggested, not directly, by first spontaneous, and later habitual, association with some sensation, but indirectly, either, by seeing others perform these acts, or by seeing them give expression to what is to the child the sign of an act. We imitate a copy set by others, or suggested by some sign they may make. We imitate, in the ordinary acceptance of this term, what we see others do; but in the definition just given of imitation we have purposely broadened the common conception so as to include suggested copies. In any event it is not the simple reproduction of habits already formed; it is the recombination of these habits so as to accommodate a new copy, set by some other moving being of the environment. It follows, there fore, that the power of imitation rests upon already acquired habits. Thus the child has trained the muscles of speech so as to be able to produce certain nonsense babblings of its own; later these muscular habits must furnish the basis for its acquisition of the conventional language of its environment. Again it has learned, through its random and instinctive movements, to move features and limbs in a L variety of ways; in locomotion, in the manipulation of objects, or in some of the simpler, cruder forms of expression. But in time it will begin spontaneously to utilize these movement-habits in the imitation of others. Just why it is the child takes so much pleasure in imitative activity on all occasions, when once this slumbering instinct has been awakened, it would be hard to say. Native capacity for activity, together with the lively feeling that he has experienced movements similar to these in the past, though not in just this combination, evidently tempt him to essay a reproduction of the copy. Thus a boy of one year stops in the midst of his play to imitate his father every time the latter sneezes; or, watching his mother, puts the lead pencil now in his mouth, now behind his ear. Another of two, hungry and busy with his dinner, still follows closely his older sister's movements, and reproduces them with the utmost fidelity. The fund of new possible imitations seems, at some ages, to be perpetually ready. The vessel needs but the tip of the slightest suggestion to bring forth the imitative effort. A large share of these imitative acts of children are dependent upon copies which they can see.. The child watches others and reproduces their performances. But this is by no means exclusively the case. The acquisition and preservation of a common speech rests entirely upon the child's power to act with the voice upon the sugges tions of sound. Very early, even before conventional speech develops, we find the child imitating the inarticulate cries of animals in the yard, or of persons on the street. In the early cases of imitation, nothing is more characteristic than the unconscious spontaneity of the imitation. The cries just alluded to respond almost instantly to the sensation, and without any apparent interruption of the child's play. One'is often at a loss to see wherein the child profits, so far as his own consciousness is concerned,-what motive he has, if any, in turning often from play activity in which he is evidently deeply engrossed, to imitate the slight acts of others. There is probably no motive; he feels no need of profit. The suggestion to act is strong; he imitates; the feeling of pleasurable activity is sufficient profit. There are other forms of expression besides speech that draw heavily upon the child's powers of imitation. Drawing and the plastic art, as well as all forms of building and constructing, evidently must depend upon this faculty, either directly or indirectly. The child must learn to reproduce certain of his visual images on paper or in clay, either by following the movements of others in so doing, or by utilizing the motor impulses which his images suggest,—which they are signs of. In the latter case we have what Dr. Baldwin calls "image-tracery." make no further classification of the forms of imitation than the following: 1. Impulsive imitation (the child instinctively repeats the cry of some animal or person, or reproduces the expression of another's face, etc.). 2. Imitation in play (the child wills imitative acts for the ends of play). 3. Consciously voluntary imitation (the child studies the imitative act). The latter form has not yet been discussed. It is important, chiefly because it contains à factor that must affect our appreciation of the educational value of imitation in education. Whenever the child imitates consciously and voluntarily, when he directs his members in movements that are imitative and is conscious of the fact that he is trying to do so, he must study in fact, analyze the act he is endeavoring to reproduce. In proportion as the analysis makes him conscious, needfully or needlessly, of requisite elements of action for which he has had but meagre motor experiences, is his first attempt awkward and painful. It is true there is an attempt at movement-combination, at synthesis; but the combined elements are too few, the forms of combination too rare in the individual's experience, to run off smoothly. They are detached; the missing links have to be singled out by repeated trials, before the synthetic act begins to be really effective. An act of conconsciously voluntary imitation (in so far as it is not wholly the contemplation of an old habit) is necessarily a studied act. Herein lies an im Turning now to the realm of the child's play, (we find imitation equally significant. Many of the plays and games of childhood are imitations of the labors, and customary social activities of adult life, or of the life of older children. In the neighborhood of a fire-department house which I pass occasionally, I have recently inspected two juvenile fire outfits. What were originally wholly unrelated scraps have been brought together with considerable ingenuity. The equipment is as complete as may be, even to hose and lanterns, and in one case the conventional bright red of the cart and frame. But if the construction is itself evidence of juvenile imitative ingenuity, the expression of the boys themselves, as they bring this mechanism into action, is more so. The speed and certainty of movement, the breathless haste, the swaggering abandon of the firemen, the captain's air of responsibility and decision of command, are all reproduced with wonderful fidelity. In another part of the town, boys of tender years wore off the tedium of vacation idleness by horse-racing and betting. Have you not noticed how readily the most innocent minded child catches the important point of distinction between this and the pudent smirk of countenance, the flippant inflection of voice, to which a few hours of unfavorable environment have exposed him, and how faithfully and perfectly he reproduces them, even though as yet unable to appreciate their import? On the other hand, who has not seen childhood thoroughly alive with and ready to act in behalf of, holy ideals which it has caught through social contact? Examples might be multiplied indefinitely. Imitation in play is a synthesis of many acts which the child pursues for their own sake. It is here that the child's power, not only spontaneously, but faithfully and accurately, to reproduce the essential features of the acts of others is most apparent. Witness his power of dramatic mimicry; one is usually able to name for himself the person whose voice and speech, whose gestures, mannerisms, carriage, or walk are being taken off. For the purposes of this discussion we shall first two forms already discussed, which is pedagogically significant. The free imitation of the first two forms is broadly synthetic; it begins with large general effects and works into the details of movement. The child summons freely into new combinations habits which it already has; but in so doing it constantly enriches its store of experiences of movement and of expres sion. The greater speed and superior result of the first two forms of imitation are due, in part, to the fact that they are subservient to the law of motor development from the general to the special; à part, to the greater freedom and spontaneity of movements, the combination of old and more or less reliable habits; in part, to the fact that all movements are not ends in themselves, but serve directly the attainment of some external end, as play. The third form, on the other hand, the form of studied and voluntary imitation, reverses the order of pro cedure in consciousness. It studies out the details of movement first, and runs through the series of new experiences a few times, until habit begins to be established. Only later does the broad free synthesis of movements take place. The great extent to which free imitation is a factor in the acquisition of all arts of expression ought to make us inquire what significance should be given this principle in the conscious efforts of education. Community life demands common symbols as means of intercommunication; it demands common customs, observances, rites, manners, social usages of all kinds, all of which are, in fact, to the individuals composing society, signs of the mental status and occupa tion of society. Community life, the activity of human beings in groups and of the individuals composing the groups in their relations to one another, is only possible on the basis of common arts of expression and of common social usages; these common usages and arts must become the inheritance of each succeeding generation. The power and importance of this faculty in society can hardly be estimated. Take the single instance of speech. How does the child acquire, not only the conventional words it contains, but also the idioms of his environment, the various emotional shades in which he pronounces them, the multitude of inflections, intonations and emphases which he early commands, and many of the gestures with which he accompanies speech? By way of imitation. Nor are these elements separate items for imitation. They are all blended together in one effort. In the same way imitation binds together closely the different members of society, by providing for the perpetuity of social usages and customs, many of which education has taken no account of. The speed with which this principle works is seen in the rapid dissemination of social and political ideals which are able to sweep peoples into action before they are understood. New speech forms, new styles of dress, new modes of household decoration, new knick-knacks, new bric-abrac, new fads of all sorts, spread with astonishing rapidity, and no civilized society is so conservative as to escape even these superficial changes entirely. The importance of the prin ciple of imitation seems doubly significant for the child. The very plasticity of the individual, in the hands of society, soon establishes a responsiveness to social life; the individual is rapidly lifted onto the plane of modern society and broadened by contact with a humanity which it has taken centuries to produce. By this I do not mean to say that any individual can escape the limitations which the successive development of inherited instincts places upon him, or that education should ever take a step to prevent their healthful and timely ripening. But certainly imitation does early place the child in touch with the broadening and disci plining infiuences of society; while society depends for its perpetuity and growth upon the imitative instinct in every child. There is hardly a fact concerning the nature power, or forms of imitation that is not of immediate significance educationally. Probably there is no fact of growth with which parent and teacher unconsciously reckon so much. All that is done to shield the child from the consequences of evil environment, and to secure for it the influences of cultured and moral companionship, rests ultimately upon the instinct for imitation. Regardless of whether education consciously or unconsciously reckons with the instinct of imitation, it still subjects the child to very great modifications from his environment. But in how far may education wisely and with beneficial results take conscious account of the principle of imitation? One of the first applications to be suggested is an answer to the question: What form of imitation lends itself most readily to the demands of expression? We answer, the free, the unstudied imitation; imitation that does not have to stop to analyze the copy, that is not an end in itself, but proceeds to the combination of old motor habits to new ends. Though educational expression is not always play, we need to draw far more heavily on that form of imitation that appears spontaneously in play. Here the child throws himself into the large total effect and does not labor through a painful study of the motor elements he employs. We know that he is so thoroughly and truly dramatic in this kind of activity, at times, as to reveal to us whom he imitates, often our own mannerisms, weaknesses, or foibles. Now carry this thought into some of the branches devoted especially to the arts of expression. What can be said in defense of that method of teaching writing, imitatively, which fixes the attention upon a permanent visual copy, that can only be adequately reproduced by careful analysis during the act, to the inevitable destruction of any free play of motor impulses, as well as to the fixing and perpetuation of habits that both the physiological conditions in the child and the demands of good penmanship prohibit. If this point of view be correct as the writer from his experience believes it to be, there is good sense in the practice that places a word or sentence before the child, permits the latter to absorb its image, and then erases, leaving the child to the free play of the motor images which the visual image of the word suggested. Has any one ever taught the child to speak by patiently setting copies, apart from the active uses into which oral speech enters, for the child's painful analysis and slow reproduction. A few words may have been taught thus; but the great bulk of the child's speech with all of its emotional effects, is the result of spontaneous imitative motor outbursts, repeated until they have become habit. The method of nature needs to be carried into writ ing. This statement does not mean that the child is not benefited by having his attention drawn occasionally to single defective elements and by instituting some corrective drill, either in writing or in speech; but this consciously voluntary effort at imitation is not the principle applicable to large wholes of expression. The foregoing illustration will suggest, perhaps, what is equally true in other forms of expression; oral language, for example. There is a time, early in the life of every child, and extending over a part of the school age, when words, phrases, and idiomatic forms of expres sion soak into a child as water is drawn into a dry sponge. Given a free opportunity for large synthetic efforts at expression, and he will reproduce these language fragments in apt combinations of his own. Who has followed the work of oral reproduction which has so largely accompanied the use of literature in the schools in recent years, and has not been astonished at the power children display in ready, spontane ous, idiomatic English expression? Yet how generally do we find attempts at language training still clinging to the work in the early grades of petty analytic expression, such as filling out blanks with single words, putting in right verb forms in short and lifeless sentences, and the like. It would seem that the same line of thought to which expression has just been given is already, consciously or unconsciously, beginning to affect instruction in all lines of art expression. A general disposition is now apparent to depart from studied and analytic copying to free combination of movements in self-expres sion. Through the thoughts of literature, nature or art, the self is stimulated until it has something to express; when the individual fairly tingles with motor impulses the time for expression is ripe. "But," it will be objected, "there is a technique of expression in all these modes,—in both writing and drawing, for example." And, "Must not the child also acquire this, and, in fact, first, in order to be most effective in expression? We do not let the child learn to play the piano in this way." True; herein is one opportunity rightly to apply the principle of imita tion. Where does the child get his technique in learning to speak English? By hearing others speak; i. e., from a speech-environment. The words of others tempt his own impulses of articulation into life; he speaks, and in very short time, with all the peculiarities of sound, enunciation, and inflection which persist in his environment. Wherever a true act of expres sion is concerned, the same must be required of writing and drawing, if not of piano playing; the child must acquire what technique he needs, first, not by analysis, but by seeing others draw and write and by imbibing strong motives and suggestions from art and life itself, until, if he has any motor consciousness along these lines whatever, he is fairly alive with the will to do; the idea of the act as a whole, rather than of its disjointed elements, hovers in consciousness and colors every movement of expression. Whenever the individual essays new acts of expression in this way, he finds himself acquiring a technique that surpasses every other. The strong influence which some of the best writing or singing masters exert over their classes is due to this power to stir up motor consciousness in part, at least, by their own display of motor powers. The easy, graceful, professional swing impresses itself upon observers, giving them new experiences, not alone of dead letters, but of living movements as well. This thought of broadening the child's motor experiences, especially wherever the child's powers of expression are concerned, needs sadly to be carried into the work of teaching reading. م |