"The best answer to this is the study of the little child. The very first means a child adopts to get out of itself, or to realize the great world about it, is by dramatic action and instinct. No child was ever born with any mind at all, that had not some of this instinct; and the more promising the child, the more is it dramatic and imaginative. Dramatic instinct is universal. It is the secret of all success; it is the instinct by which man sees things from different points of view, by which he realizes the ideal in character in contrast to that which is not ideal."

"Professor Monroe was once asked by a clergyman for private lessons. He told him that was impossible. 'Well,' said the minister, 'what can I do then?' 'Go home and read Shakespeare dramatically.' Why was such advice given? Because the struggle to read Shakespeare would get the minister out of himself. The struggle to realize how men of different types of character would speak certain things would make him conscious whether he, himself, spoke naturally. He would, in short, become aware of his mannerisms, of his narrow gamut of emotions, his sameness of point of view; he would be brought into direct contact with the process of his own mind in thinking."

The supreme value of a vivid and versatile imagination in giving full and rich development to the whole mind is now a vital part of our confession of faith. The question is how to cultivate such a resourceful imagination. The literature of the creative imagination is felt to be the chief means, and the dramatic instinct toward interpreting, assimilating and expressing human thought and feeling opens the avenue of growth.

Dr. Curry says:—

"Dramatic instinct should be trained because it is a part of the imagination, because it gives us practical steps toward the development of the imagination, because it is the means of securing discipline and power over feeling. Dramatic instinct should be trained because it is the insight of one mind into another. The man who has killed his dramatic instinct has become unsympathetic, and can never appreciate any one's point of view but his own. Dramatic instinct endows us with broad conceptions of the idiosyncrasies, beliefs, and convictions of men. It trains us to unconscious reasoning, to a deep insight into the motives of man. It is universally felt that one's power to 'other himself' is the measure of the greatness of his personality. All sympathy, all union of ourselves with the ideals and struggles of our race, are traceable to imagination and dramatic instinct."

He further emphasizes the idea that dramatic instinct has two elements—imagination and sympathy. "Imagination affords insight into character; sympathy enables us to identify ourselves with it." "Together they form the chief elements of altruism. They redeem the mind from narrowness and selfishness; they enable the individual to appreciate the point of view, the feelings, motives, and characters of his fellow-men; they open his eyes to read the various languages of human art; they enable him to commune with his kind on a higher plane than that of commonplace facts; they lift him into communion with the art and spirit of every age and nation. Without their development man is excluded from the highest enjoyment, the highest communion with his kind, and from the highest success in every walk of life."

Dramatization is the only means by which we can bring the reading work of the school to its full and natural expression. The action involved in it predisposes the mind to full and natural utterance. The fulfilment of all the dramatic conditions lends an impetus and genuineness to every word that is spoken. It has been often observed that boys and girls whose reading is somewhat expressionless become direct and forcible when taking a part in a dialogue or dramatic action. It would be almost farcical not to put force and meaning into the words when all the other elements of action and realism are present.

Educational progress is everywhere exerting a distinct pressure at those points where greater realism, deeper absorption in actualities, is possible. This is the significance of outdoor excursions, of experiments, laboratories, and object work in nature study. In geography and history it is the purpose of pictures, vivid descriptions, biographical stories, and the accounts of eye-witnesses and real travellers, etc.

In literature we possess, embodied in striking concrete personalities, many of the most forcible ideas that men have conceived and dealt with in the history of the world. It is very desirable that children should become themselves the vehicles for the expression of these ideas. The school is the place where children should become the embodiment of ideas. It would be a grand and not impractical scheme of education to propose to make the school a place where each child, in a well-chosen succession, should be allowed to impersonate and become the embodiment of the constructive ideas of our civilization.

We reason much concerning the educative value of carpentry, of the various forms of manual skill in wood and iron, of weaving, gardening, and cooking, of the work of shoemaker, basket-maker, and potter, and of the educative value of these constructive activities; for the purposes of universal education, is it not of equal importance that children become skilled in the histrionic art, in the apt interpretation and expression of good manners, in that deeper social insight and versatile tact which are the constructive elements in conduct? Or, putting it in a more obvious form, is it any more important for a person to know how to construct a bookcase or even a steam-engine, than to shape his speech or conduct skilfully in meeting a board of education or a business manager.