Unquestionably, emulation with one’s former self is a noble form of the passion of rivalry, and has a wide scope in the training of the young.  But to veto and taboo all possible rivalry of one youth with another, because such rivalry may degenerate into greedy and selfish excess, does seem to savor somewhat of sentimentality, or even of fanaticism.  The feeling of rivalry lies at the very basis of our being, all social improvement being largely due to it.  There is a noble and generous kind of rivalry, as well as a spiteful and greedy kind; and the noble and generous form is particularly common in childhood.  All games owe the zest which they bring with them to the fact that they are rooted in the emulous passion, yet they are the chief means of training in fairness and magnanimity.  Can the teacher afford to throw such an ally away?  Ought we seriously to hope that marks, distinctions, prizes, and other goals of effort, based on the pursuit of recognized superiority, should be forever banished from our schools?  As a psychologist, obliged to notice the deep and pervasive character of the emulous passion, I must confess my doubts.

The wise teacher will use this instinct as he uses others, reaping its advantages, and appealing to it in such a way as to reap a maximum of benefit with a minimum of harm; for, after all, we must confess, with a French critic of Rousseau’s doctrine, that the deepest spring of action in us is the sight of action in another.  The spectacle of effort is what awakens and sustains our own effort.  No runner running all alone on a race-track will find in his own will the power of stimulation which his rivalry with other runners incites, when he feels them at his heels, about to pass.  When a trotting horse is ‘speeded,’ a running horse must go beside him to keep him to the pace.

As imitation slides into emulation, so emulation slides into Ambition; and ambition connects itself closely with Pugnacity and Pride.  Consequently, these five instinctive tendencies form an interconnected group of factors, hard to separate in the determination of a great deal of our conduct.  The Ambitious Impulses would perhaps be the best name for the whole group.

Pride and pugnacity have often been considered unworthy passions to appeal to in the young.  But in their more refined and noble forms they play a great part in the schoolroom and in education generally, being in some characters most potent spurs to effort.  Pugnacity need not be thought of merely in the form of physical combativeness.  It can be taken in the sense of a general unwillingness to be beaten by any kind of difficulty.  It is what makes us feel ‘stumped’ and challenged by arduous achievements, and is essential to a spirited and enterprising character.  We have of late been hearing much of the philosophy of tenderness in education; ‘interest’ must be assiduously awakened in everything, difficulties must be smoothed away. Soft pedagogics have