752 THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF SOCIOLOGY
which a feeling of agitation is associated but do not Hke to think about them. When such a memory-image strays into conscious- ness it is slurred over and the imagination seeks some image which gives forceful or expansive feeling. When our isolated farmer begins to weary of the day's work, his attention wobbles from it and his imagination wanders to memory-images of the remarkable day's work he has done in the past or to his wife and children. That is, he becomes boastful and so raises himself above agitation by the suggestive influence of forceful images or he becomes "sentimental," as we say, and raises himself above agitation by the suggestive influence of expansive images. I have worked with laborers in several occupations, in a factory, at carpenter work, with quarrymen, and on the farm, and every- where I find this fundamental process. When the agitation point begins to be reached, the imagination begins to wander in search of forceful or expansive images. I find the same process in the female members of my groups. The mother in our isolated family escaped anxiety for her children who were away at school by thinking she was preparing them to fight the battles of Free Methodism, another by thinking that Jesus would take care of her children. Thus, in agitation, the imagination seizes upon forceful or expansive images. This process has worked itself out in manifold refinements of the imagination as seen in artistic products,^ ^ in literary products, and in religious systems. Thus we have the writings of Emerson and Kipling the ethical func- tion of which is to produce forceful feeling,^ ^ and the writings of Eugene Field and Tennyson the ethical function of which is to produce expansive feeling. We have the "Mighty God" of the Puritans and the Mariolatry of the Roman Catholics. By conversion is meant the process by which individuals learn to substitute for stimuli of instincts, religious symbols; and by culture is meant the process by which individuals learn to substi-
"Hirn, Origin of Art, p. 113.
^A cultivated woman recently read aloud a passage from Emerson's essay on the "Intellect" and asked me if I did not think it was "grand." I replied that I might think so if I understood it. She said "No, you wouldn't. I don't understand it. It wasn't written for you to understand, but to feel."
