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THE REQUIRED LITERATURE FOR 1895-6.
The Growth of the American Nation (illus-
trated). H. P. Judson, Professor of Political Sci-
ence, University of Chicago $1.00
The Industrial Evolution of the United
States (illustrated). Colonel Carroll D. Wright,
United States Commissioner of Labor . . . 1.00
Initial Studies in American Letters (with
portraits). Henry A. Beers, Professor of English
Literature, Yale University 1.00
Some First Steps in Human Progress (illus-
trated). Frederick Starr, Professor of Anthropol-
ogy, University of Chicago 1.00
Thinking, Feeling, Doing (illustrated). E. W.
Scripture, Director of the Psychological Laboratory,
Yale University 1.00
The Chautauquan (12 nunibeis, illustrated) . 2.00
Thei Aaerican fLAG
AS SEElN
I- BY MOST PEOPLE.
II. -BY RED-BLIND PERSONS.
Ill.-BY GREEN-BLIND PERSONS.
IV - BY VIOL &T- BLIND PERSONS.
V.-BY TOTALLY COLOR-BLIND PERSONS
Cbautauqua IRcaDing Circle Xiterature
THINKING, FEELING,
DOING
BY
E. W. SCRIPTURE, PH.D. (Leipzig)
Director of the Psychological Laboratory in Yale University.
FLOOD AND VINCENT
Cbe (9rf)autauqua-(CEntur]a "^itii
MEADVILLE PENNA
150 FIFTH AVE. NEW YORK
1895
Copyright, 1895
By E. W. Scripture
The Chautauqua- Century Press, Meadville, Pa., U. S. A.
Electrotyped, Printed, and Bound by Flood & Vincent.
PREFACE.
A FELLOW PSYCHOLOGIST Said to me one day, " Are you not
afraid tliat all this accurate and fine work in the laboratory will
scare away the public?" This book is the answer. You, my
dear reader, and I, have no time, inclination, or means to
spend years in studying the details of the physical laboratory
or the observatory, yet we both enjoy an account of the latest
advances of electricity by a specialist in physics or a series of
new photographs of the moon by an astronomer. Life is so
short that a man can learn only one thing well, whether it be
the best method of dyeing cambric or the most efficient con-
struction of locomotives. The botanist is quite at home with
the plants but is ordinarily as ignorant of psychology as a
stock-broker — if not more so. The mathematician learns
some section of mathematics, but would be just as awkward
at a chemical analysis as any other outsider. We all belong
to the great public except in regard to the particular handi-
work, trade, or science that each knows something about.
And yet we are all interested in hearing about a new
science. There is nothing too good for the public — for
you and for me ; the finer the work, the more novel the inven-
tion, or the more important the discovery, the greater the duty
of telling it to the public in language that can be understood.
The greatest of psychologists, Wundt, has written a series of
lectures on psychology (lately translated into English), but the
style and the matter are fully intelligible only to those who are
already somewhat familiar with the science. No one else has
produced a book explaining the methods and results of the
new psychology. This is my reason for writing one.
This is the first book on thejiezu, or experimental, psychology
written in the English language. That it has been written
exp7^essly for the people will, I hope, be taken as evidence of
the attitude of the science in its desire to serve humanity.
In one respect I have departed widely from the usual writers
iv Preface.
on psychology ; I have written plain, e very-day English and
have not tried to clothe my ignorance in the "multitudinous
syllabifications and frangomaxillary combinations " that pass as
philosophic English.
CONTENTS.
Chapter. Page.
I. Watching and Testing ; or Observation
AND Experiment 15
II. Ti:me and Action 27
III. Reaction-Toie 38
W . Thinking-Time 49
\'. Steadiness and Control 67
VI. Power and Will 79
VII. Attention 89
ATII. Touch : 103
IX. Hot and Cold 116
X. Smell and Taste 123
XL Hear'ing 133
XII. Color 153
XIII. Color Sensitiveness 170
XIV. Seeing with One Eye 180
XA'. Seeing with Two Eyes 199
XVI. Feeling 214
XVII. Emotion 226
XVIII. Memory 239
XIX. Rhythmic Action 253
XX. Suggestion and Expectation 264
XXI. Materialism and Spiritualism in Psy-
chology 276
XXII. The New Psychology 282
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
The American Flag Frontispiece.
FIGURE. PAGE.
1. An Exercise in Observation 22
2. An Exercise in Quick Observation 24
3. Apparatus for Recording Time 29
4. A Specimen Record 29
5. Position Ready for a Record 31
6. Measuring the Simultaneity in Actions of a Piano-
player 31
7. Result of the Experiment 32
8. Influence of Fatigue on Tapping-time 35
9. Influence of Mental Activity on Tapping-time ... 35
10. Rapidity of Tapping as Dependent on Age 36
11. Fatigue in Tapping as Dependent on Age 36
12. A Series of Reactions 38
13. Chain-reaction 39
14. In the Reaction-room 41
15. Reaction-key 43
16. Reaction to Sound 44
17. The Pistol-key 45
18. The Runner's Key 45
19. Measuring a Runner's Reaction-time 46
20. The Touch-key . 46
21. Reaction to Touch 47
22. A Reaction to Cold 47
23. Reaction-time Decreases with Age 48
24. The Voice-key 53
25. Strictly Forced Associations 54
26. Measuring Mental and Muscular Time in Fencing . 56
27. Apparatus for Measuring Rapidity of Thought and
Action 58
28. Measuring how Rapidly a Pugilist Thinks and Acts . 59
29. Measuring how Fast a Dog Thinks 60
vii
viii List of Illustrations.
FIGURE. PAGE.
30. Time of Thought in School Children . 61
31. Taking a Record of Steadiness 67
32. Arrangement of Capsules for Steadiness under Guid-
ance of the Eye . 68
33. A Record of Steadiness 69
34. Recording a Sportsman's Unsteadiness 69
35. Steadiness in Standing 70
36. Studying the Trembling of the Hand 71
37. Studying the Steadiness of the Tongue 71
38. Steadiness-gauge 74
39. Measuring Steadiness and Attention 75
40. Result of Educating Attention to the Arm 76
41. Testing Steadiness in Singing 77
42. Singing the Octave 78
43. Singing the Duodecime ' 78
44. Singing the Fifth * 78
45. Singing the Fourth 78
46. Singing the Third 78
47. Spring Dynamometer 79
48. Weight-judgments in School Children 81
49. Influence of Pitch on the Power of Grasp 86*
50. Dynamograph 86
51. Grip of the Hand by an Hysterical Person 87
52. Successive Squeezes during Ringing of a Gong and
during Silence 87
53. Strongest Contractions while Looking at Different
Colors 88
54. Influence of Musk 88
55. Focus and Field of Attention no
56. Fatiguing Attention Preparatory to Hypnotism ... 102
57. Touch-weights for Finding the Threshold 103
58. Finding the Threshold for the Palm of the Hand . . 104
59. An Experiment in Tickling jqc
60. Finding the Least Noticeable Change in Pressure . . 106
61. Simple ^sthesiometer jjq
62. The Complete ^sthesiometer uj
63. Testing a Child's Idea of Skin-space 112
64. Aristotle's Ilhision jj-
65. Lip Ilhision jj .
List of Illustrations. ix
FIGURE. PAGE.
66. Space as Estimated by a Tooth under Treatment . . 114
67. A Cold-spot Map 117
68. A Hot-spot Map 117
69. Finding the Hot and Cold Spots 118
70. Boiling a Frog without His Knowing it 121
71. Olfactometer, or Smell-measurer 124
72. Alternation of Odors 127
73. Giant Fork for Finding the Lowest Audible Tone . 134
74. Whistle for Determining the Highest Audible Tone . 135
75. The Highest Audible Tone as Dependent on In-
tensity 138
76. Forks of Adjustable Pitch for Finding the Least
Noticeable Difference 139
77. The Tone-tester 141
78. Error in Hearing Decreases with Age 142
79. Apparatus for Finding the Middle Tone 145
80. Finding the Threshold of Intensity for Hearing . . 147
81. Method of Indicating Intensity in Notes 150
82. Series of Notes according to Duration 151
83. The Color-top 154
84. The Color-wheel 154
85. Putting Two Disks Together 155
86. Two Disks with Scale 155
87. Diagrammatic Arrangement of the Colors 157
88. The Color-cone 158
89. The Grays 159
90. Spectrum from a Grating 160
91. The Color-triangle 166
92. Mixing Yellow and Blue '*.... 168
93. Children have Finer Eyes for Color as they Grow
Older 171
94. Disk to Illustrate the Effect of Contrast 172
95. Getting the Gray Equation 173
96. Three-color Persons 173
97. Red-blind Persons 174
98. Green-blind Persons 174
99. One-color Persons 175
100. Perimeter, for Measuring the Field of Vision .... 181
loi. Perimeter Chart for Colors 182
X List of Illustrations.
FIGURE. PAGE.
102. Finding the Blind-Spot 183
103. Putting a White Circle on the Blind-Spot 184
104. The Circle is Replaced by the Colors 184
105. What will happen now? 185
106. The Result 185
107. A Puzzler for the Blind-Spot 185
108. The Blind-Spot Pretends to Read . 186
109. Test for Eye-Steadiness 186
no. What the Eye Considers to be Equal Distances . . 187
111. A Misplaced Line 187
112. Illusion of the Interrupted Distance 188
113. Illusion of Filled Space 188
114. A Misplaced Line 188
115. A Misplaced Line 189
116. The Interrupted Distance 189
117. The Distorted Squares §89
118. A Misplaced Line 189
119. The Enlarged Angle 190
120. Displacement by Inclined Lines 190
121. A Tipped Line 190
122. Breaking Parallel Lines 190
123. Tipping Parallel Lines 191
124. Bending Straight Lines 191
125. Changing the Length of a Line by Different Cross-
lines 192
126. Illusion of the Crinoline 192
127. We Estimate by Areas 192
128. Why the Bicycle Girl Appears so Short 193
129. The Attracted Dots 194
130. An Overhanging Cornice, or a Stairway? 194
131. Illusion of the Yeomen of the Guard 195
132. Shape of the Sky 196
133. The Moon Illusion 156
134. Book Seen with the Right Eye 199
135. Book Seen with the Left Eye 199
136. The Real Book •. . 200
137. Book as Actually Seen 200
138. Put the Bird in the Cage by Binocular Vision ... 201
139. The Prism Stereoscope 201
List of Illustrations. xi
FIGURE. PAGE.
140. The Book Stereoscope 202
141. Action of the Book Stereoscope 203
142. Two Like Pictures 203
143. Unlike Pictures to be Combined 204
144. Prometheus 204
145. The Cross 204
146. Crossed Disparity 205
147. Uncrossed Disparity 205
148. What we would Expect when Looking at the Farther .
End 206
149. What we would Expect when Looking at the Nearer
End 206
150. What we would Expect when Looking at the Middle 206
151. What we Actually See 206
152. The Slant Line 207
153. The Pyramidal Box 207
154. The Funnels 208
155. The Crystals 208
156. The Multiple Star 209
157. The Complicated Pyramids 209
158. The Thread Figure 210
159. Binocular Strife 211
160. Binocular Luster 211
161. A Binocular Illustration to Milton's Paradise Lost. 212
162. Single Symmetry, Horizontal 220
163. Single Symmetry, Vertical 220
164. Double Symmetry 220
165. Threefold Symmetry 220
166. Fourfold Symmetry 221
167. Eightfold Symmetry 221
168. Perfect, but Simple, Symmetry in All Directions . . 221
169. Combinations of Symmetry 222
170. Law of Pleasing Relations of the Dimensions of a
Rectangle 222
171. Change of Pulse as a Result of Pleasure 223
172. Change of Pulse as a Result of Anger 224
173. Change of Pulse as a Result of Fright 225
174. Sorrow 228
175- Joy 229
xii List of Illustrations.
FIGURE. PAGE.
176. Anger 230
177. Fright 234
178. Very Doubtful 237
179. A Leaf from Daisy's Copy-book 241
180. Symmetrical and Direct Cross-memory 242
181. Measurements on Symmetrical and Direct Cross-
memory 243
182. Law of Forgetting Tones 244
I S3. Use of the Pun for IVIemory Purposes 248
184. Dependence of Time-memory on Age 251
185. The Pneumatic Shoe 253
186. Walking with Pneumatic Shoes and Recording
Drum 254
187. Graphic Records of Walking and Running .... 254
188. The Electric Shoe 255
189. Regular Retarded Rhythm ' 256
190. Irregular Retarded Rhythm 257
191. Regular Accelerated Rhythm 257
192. Irregular Accurate Rhythm 257
193. Regular Accurate Rhythm 257
194. The Electric Baton 259
195. Taking an Orchestra Leader's Record 260
196. Taking a Record with Electric Dumb Bells .... 262
197. Producing an Hallucination of Warmth 266
198. Blocks for Measuring the Effect of a Suggestion of
Size 266
199. Dependence of the Effect of Suggestion on Age and
Sex 268
200. Actual Positions of the Star at the Pendulum-beats 273
201. Supposed Positions with Visual Attention 274
202. Supposed Positions with Auditory Attention .... 274
203. Johann Friedrich Herbart 284
204. Gustav Theodor Fechner 287
205. Hermann von Helmholtz 288
206. Wilhelm Wundt 289
207. Lecture-rooni in the Yale Laboratory 291
208. Apparatus-room and Switchboard-hall in the Yale
Laboratory 292
209. W'orkshop in the Yale Laboratory 294
m
The required hooks of the C. L. S. C, are recommended by a
Council of six. It m,ust^ however^ be understood that
recommendation does not involve an ajjproval by the
Council^ or by any member of it^ of every prinGix>le or
doctrine contained in the booh recommended.
THINKING, FEELING, DOING.
CHAPTER I.
WATCHING AND TESTING ; OR OBSERVATION AND
EXPERIMENT.
Eyes and No-Eyes journeyed together. No-Eyes The method of
saw only what thrust itself upon him ; Eyes was on the acquiring
-^ I ^ J knowledge.
watch for everything. Eyes used the fu7idaniental
method of all kjiowledge — obse7''vatio7i, or watching.
This is the first thing to be learned — the art of watch-
ing. Most of us went to school before this art was cul-
tivated, and, alas ! most of the children still go to
schools of the same kind. There are proper ways of
learning to watch, but the usual object lessons in school
result in just the opposite. We, however, cannot go a
step further till we have learned how to watch.
Do you wish to know just how your children play Thefunda-
together ? Watch them, but watch them so that they do watching.
not feel your presence.
Every public man wears a mask, because he is watched.
If we wish to know just what khid of a man he is, we
must watch him in unsuspected moments. A great deal
of ridicule has been cast on the reporters and enthusiasts
who rush into the room that has just been occupied
by a great man in order to see how he has left the chairs,
how he has treated the curtains, how much soap he has
used, or how many towels he has soiled ; or who interview
the cashier to find out just how many cocktails he has con-
15
i6
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
The error of
prejudice.
Its presence
everywhere.
sumed. In one respect these men are quite in the right.
They say to themselves, ' ' The pubHc is interested in
knowing just what the man really is when he has his
mask off, and that is only when he is alone." The
man who thoughtlessly leaves behind a soiled deck of
cards, a whisky bottle, and the odor of bad cigars must
be quite a different fellow from one who has had an
artistic dinner and a copy of the latest novel, or one who
has left his Bible and his spectacles on the table.
If there is anything wrong about this, it is not the
method ; just this method is to be used in acquiring all
knowledge. In fact, I shall want you to watch the
processes of thinking, feeling, and doing, in exactly the
same fashion. Lie in w^ait, concealed, catch your
' ' process ' ' going on in a perfectly natural way. More-
over, strange as it may seem, this is the only way, the
fundamental rule being that the act of watching must
not change the pei^son or thing watched.
It is not sufficient to know this rule ; we must be con-
stantly on guard against several very dangerous sources
of error. The first is the error of prejudice. Grand-
mother M. has used Dr. Swindle's liver pills all her life
long. She always believed they would do her good ;
she remembers the dozen times she happened to feel bet-
ter after taking them and forgets the hundreds of times
she did not. Therefore she has facts — incontestable
facts — to prove the goodness of the pills. Possibly her
picture appears in the newspaper with an enthusiastic
testimonial. It is useless to attempt to convince her
that her method of observation has been vitiated by the
error of prejudice.
Of course, this error is very plain in other people, but
you, my dear reader, always judge fairly. Let me whis-
Watching and Testing. 17
per in your ear: Have you not some pet fad on which you
are sure you are right and all the rest of the town are
wrong ? are you not quite sure that there is only one side
to the tariff question? are you not astounded at the fact
that some people find a good side to a man you know —
yes, know — to be utterly bad ? Don' t be ashamed to con-
fess. The great scientist Faraday did. "It is my firm ^o^nfegJon^
opinion that no man can examine himself in the most com-
mon things having any reference to him personally or to
any person, thought, or matter related to him without soon
being made aware of the temptation to disbelieve con-
trary facts and the difficulty of opposing it. I could give
you many illustrations personal to myself about atmos-
pheric magnetism, lines of force, attraction, repulsion,
etc. ' ' If Faraday could go wrong in this way, how
careful must we be in the observations we shall make, in
the experiments we are about to perform.
Another very dangerous error is that of unconscious Unconscious
, ,., . additions.
additions.
Play the game of twenty questions. The company
choose some object and some one who does not know
what has been chosen has to guess it from the answers
''Yes" or " No" to his questions. Stop him when he
is half through and ask him to tell you what he has con-
cluded from the different answers. You will find that he
adds far more than is justified by the answer to each
question. For example, something chosen is neither
animal nor mineral ; it is, therefore, so the questioner
thinks, "a'* vegetable. But suppose you had chosen
"buckwheat cakes"?
This error is one of the most troublesome ones in read-
ing printer's proof; letters and words that have been
omitted by the compositor are unconsciously supplied bv
i8
Thmkifig, Feeling, Doing.
Examples of
unconscious ad-
ditions in
animal psy-
chology.
" Funereal
habits " of ants.
the reader. An author, on account of his interest, is
more hable to this error than any one else ; he is generally
a very unreliable proof-reader.
A familiar case of this error is found in the story of the
ten white crows — which I will leave the reader to hunt up
in his old school books.
This source of error, as Wundt has pointed out, ren-
ders almost absolutely worthless an enormous amount of
painstaking work in animal psychology. The facts are
observed and collected with untiring diligence, but the
critical study of the results is generally entirely lacking.
Take, for example, a case reported by Romanes in his
volume on animal intelligence.
An English clergyman writes concerning the ' ' fuftereal
habits" of ants: "I have noticed in one of my formi-
caria a subterranean cemetery, where I have seen some
ants burying their dead by placing earth above them.
One ant was evidently much affected, and tried to ex-
hume the bodies; but the united exertions of the yellow
sextons were more than sufhcient to neutralize the effort
of the disconsolate mourner. ' '
Wundt asks, How much is fact, and how much imagi-
nation? It is a fact that the ants carry out of the nest,
deposit near by, and cover up dead bodies, just as they
do anything else that is in their way. They can then
pass to and fro over them without hindrance. In the ob-
served case they were evidently interrupted in this occu-
pation by another ant, and resisted its interference. The
cemetery, the sextons, the feelings of the disconsolate
mourner, which impelled her to exhume the body of the
departed — all this is a fiction of the sympathetic imagi-
nation of the observer.
Another friend of ants ofives this account : "At one
Watching and Testing. 19
formicary half a dozen or more younsf queens were out ^^
■' ^ y 25 T. The case of the
at the same time. They would climb up a larsfe pebble yoH"s am-
•' ^ JT o r princesses.
near the gate, face the wind, and assume a rampant pos-
ture. Several having ascended the stone at one time,
there ensued a little playful passage-at-arms as to posi-
tion. They nipped each other gently with the man-
dibles, and chased one another from favorite spots.
They, however, never nipped the workers. These latter
evidently kept a watch upon the sportive princesses, oc-
casionally saluted them with their antennae in the usual
way, or touched them at the abdomen, but apparently
allowed them full liberty of action."
The correctness of this observation, says Wundt, need wundt's
not be questioned. Why should not'a number of young ^^"^^''^^•
queens have been crowded together upon a pebble, and
some workers have been with them, and occasionally
touched them with their antennae, as ants do everywhere ?
But that they ' ' sported ' ' and played, that the others
"kept watch upon them" like chaperones, and now and
again did homage to them by "saluting" — all this is due
to the imagination of the observer. He would hardly
have told the story in this way had not the suggesti\'e
name "queen" been introduced for the mature female
insects. If the adults are "queens," the young ones
must, of course, be "princesses" to the other ants as
well as in the imagination of the observer. And since no
princess ever went out without an attendant or a chap-
erone, the rest of the tale follows as a matter of course.
If, instead of the name "queen, " the mature female ant
had been called by the still better term "mother," we
would have had an entirely different story from the same
facts. I leave it to my readers to tell it.
Watch Fido, the pet dog, at play. Let your friend
20
Thiyiking^ Feelings Doing.
An experiment
for the reader.
Need of
experiment.
Personal
application.
tell the Story of what he was doing ; then tell it yourself.
Notice how you both add your own imaginations to the
facts. The story as told by a sharp business man, ac-
customed to beware of imagination, will be quite different
from that of a lady novel-reader steeped in romance.
How easy it is to misinterpret an observation if the
very greatest care is not taken in recording it, and if it is
impossible to vary the circumstances by experiment and
thus to obtain accurate knowledge of the details, is well
shown by the following facts.
Pierre Huber, one of the most reliable students of the
habits of ants, stated that he had assured himself that an
ant, if taken from the nest and returned after an interval
of four months, was recognized by its former companiI)ns ;
for they received it in a friendly manner, while members
of a different nest, even though they belonged to the
same species, were driven away. The correctness of the
observation cannot be doubted ; it has also been con-
firmed by Lubbock. Lubbock, however, made the mat-
ter a subject of experiment. He took ant larvae from
the nest and did not put them back till they were fully
developed. They, too, were received in a friendly man-
ner, although there could be no question of resemblance
between the larva and the grown ant. There must,
therefore, be some characteristic peculiar to all members
of a particular nest, possibly a specific odor, which de-
termines the "friendliness" of the ants.
Every one of my readers is an observer in a particular
domain of mental life ; and, I fear, commits this error
daily.
A pack of noisy boys is at play on the street. Ask a
crusty old bachelor to tell what they are doing. Then
ask "mother," who has had boys of her own, to tell
IVatchvig and Testing. 21
the story. You will be surprised to learn from the for-
mer what villains those boys show themselves to be by
their acts, whereas " mother" will point out to you how
every movement of the boys proves them manly fel-
lows.
By the way, I happen to notice that the expression by
which I have introduced the boys to my readers contains
such an error of prejudice that they can readily guess the
sort of description I would write. Suppose I said and felt,
* 'A group of merry boys ' ' ; would not my account of
the very same facts be different ?
I shall warn you ag-alnst onh^ one error more, that of , .
-' ^ -^ ^ ' Another source
untrustworthiness of the senses, as it is called. Sir of error.
Walter Raleigh was one day sitting at a window when
he observed a man come into the courtyard and go up
to another standing by the door. After a few words the
latter drew his sword, they fell to fighting, and the first
comer was finally wounded and carried out. A person
who had been standing close beside the door afterwards
flatly contradicted the observation of Sir Walter, saying
that the man at the door had not been the first to draw
his sword and that it was not the first comer who was
wounded and carried out. Note the fiat contradictions
of eye witnesses in the next trial you read about.
Let us now take a few lessons in observing. Lessons in
I. On page 22 of this book — do not turn to it till I observing.
have told you what to do — you will find a figure. Write
what you see. I am not going to tell you another thing
about it ; not even what the exercise is for. Show the
Exercise !•
flgure to other people with the same directions. Com-
pare your result with theirs. Just as you progress in
understanding what the exercise is for, just so far will
you have profited by it.
Exercise II.
22
Thinking, Feelings Doing.
2. On the second page from this you will find a num-
ber of letters printed in a square. Turn over the page for
just an instant and then close the book. What letters
can you remember ? You can readily prepare a set of
cards with various combinations of letters and can train
your friends in observing. Or you can use cut letters,
such as go under the name of letter-tablets. Make ir-
regular combinations on the table behind a screen of
*
Fig. I. An Exercise in Observation.
Exercise III.
The
magician's
training.
some kind, e. g., a book ; snatch the book away for an
instant, and have the onlookers write down the ones
they saw. Then form words instead of letters. You
will notice that people can catch almost as many words
as they can catch disconnected letters. Or you can
write on a slate and turn it over for an instant. Or you
can use dominoes. . The Italian game of ' ' morra ' ' is for
this very purpose. One person holds up a number of
fingers suddenly for an instant ; the other guesses how
many were shown.
3. Place a number of objects on a table in the next
room. Let each person go in and walk once around
the table during the time you count twenty. Coming
out he is to write down a list of what he saw.
At first you can catch almost nothing in these last two
exercises. It is very important to continue the practice ;
you cannot go too far. You will be encouraged by
knowing that the magician Robert- Houdin began in the
same way. He and his son would pass rapidly by a
shop-window and cast an attentive glance at it. A few
Watching and Testing. 23
steps further they noted down on paper the objects they
had caught. The son could soon write down forty ob-
jects. This training was kept up till an astounding abil-
ity was acquired. On the occasion of one performance
the son gave the titles of more than a dozen books in
another room, with the order of arrangement on their
shelves. He had seen them in a single glance as he
passed rapidly through the library.
There are many women who have unintentionally edu-
cated themselves to a high degree of ability in quick ob- women as
servation. It can be safely asserted of many a one of
them that, seeing another woman pass by in a carriage
at full speed, she will have had time to analyze her
toilet from her bonnet to her shoes, and be able to de-
scribe not only the fashion and quality of the stuifs, but
also say if the lace be real or only machine made. It is
said that, when passing on the street, eight women out of
ten will turn around to see what the other one wears. I
have often wondered at the two who did not turn around,
but the reason is clear — they did not need to.
Innumerable exercises in quick and accurate observa-
1 . . ,. . Quick observa-
tion can be used m direct assistance to the regular tioninthe
work of the schoolroom. The spelling of words can be
learned by quick glances ; the outline and parts of a
country can be taught in greater and greater detail by
successive quick exercises ; a problem in mental arith-
metic is to be grasped with only a momentary presenta-
tion of it ; an object is to be drawn from an instantaneous
ghmpse ; etc. , etc. Indeed, there is not a single school
exercise that cannot be so taught as to train this ability.
In fact, the children are naturally quicker than we sup-
pose them to be ; it is often the case that lessons of in-
terest to the child are carefully presented in such a
The arm-chair
psychology.
24
Thinkiyig, Feeli7ig, Doing.
way as to actually teach him to be slow instead of quick.
But watching is not sufficient for science. ' ' Learn to
labor and to wait. ' ' For several thousand years psy-
chologists have been waiting and watching ; it never oc-
curred to them to labor also. Sitting at home in the arm
chair is very pleasant but it is not the way to do business,
and consequently psychology has been going backward.
What is the reason that we to-day do not know how to
train a child' s mind properly ? what is the reason that
M
B
X
O
Q R A G
C W
T
E
D
L
Fig. 2. An Exercise in Quick Observation.
The advent of
experiment.
philology is nothing more than a history of word-changes
without an attempt to explain the causes ? what is the
reason that ethics is not a science but a conglomeration
of maxims ? what is the reason — but, stop, I will express
it all by asking. What is the reason that the mental
sciences to-day are two hundred years behind the physi-
cal sciences ? The answer is sharp and decisive : Be-
cause the science of mind itself, psychology, owing to
the late introduction of experiment, has not achieved
the development that it should have done.
It. is to the introduction of experiment that we owe our
electric cars and lights, our bridges and tall buildings,
IVatc/mig and Testing. 25
our steam-power and factories, in fact, every particle of
our modern civilization that depends on material goods.
It is to the lack of experiment that we must attribute the
medieval condition of the mental sciences.
In ordinary observation we wait for things to happen contrast
in one way or another ; possibly they never happen in vaUon^and^^^^'
just the circumstances most favorable for studying them, experiment.
In an experiment we arrange the circumstances so that
the thing will happen as we wish. How good is the
memory of a certain child ? We might wait a long time
before he happened to perform some memory exercise
that would exactly answer the question. Instead of this
we experiment on him by giving him lines of figures, sets
of syllables, words, etc. , till we know in just what con-
dition his memory is. Galilei would jiever have discov-
ered the law of falling bodies if he had not made the ex-
periment.
Vaiy only one circiunstance at a time. If you wish to
find how strong a child's memory is at different times of ^[lentlTifwof
the day, you should not make the morning test with experiment.
words and the next with figures. There might be a dif-
ference due to the change from words to figures, and you
would suppose this difference to be due to the time of
day.
Experiments can be divided into three grades, (i)
Tests. The test is the simplest form and is an answer to Grades of
the question, Is something so or not so ? The usual test ^xpenmen .
on hypnotized persons is pricking them with a pin to see
whether they feel or do not ; by flashing a light we de-
termine whether a person is blind or not. (2) Qualitative
experiments. By these we aim to answer the question.
What? In experiments on the emotions we ask what
bodily processes change with them. Given a person who
26 Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
can see ; to determine what he can see we make experi-
ments for color-bHndness. (3) Quantitative experiTnents.
How much ? is the question we ask in this case. How
small a difference can you detect? how many syllables
can you remember? how sharp is your vision? This is
the highest class of experiments ; they are scientific ex-
periments in the full sense of the word.
The objection is sometimes made that experiments in
thinking, feeling, etc. , are physical and not mental. This
confuses the means with the thing, the tools with the
work done. The apparatus is physical, but your ac-
curacy of judgment, your suggestibility, your power of
will, are mental.
It is perhaps advisable here to warn my readers 'against
Quack the unjustifiable application of the term "experiment" to
hypnotic exhibitions, to thought-transference follies, and
to the so-called psychical research experiments. These
amusements are as unrelated to scientific experiments as
clairvoyant healing 6r faith-cure to the science of medi-
cine.
CHAPTER II.
TIME AND ACTION.
What is the difference between a bicycle rider and a
locomotive ? The human body closely resembles a com- ^ conundrum.
plicated machine. A man is the counterpart of an en-
gine ; food is shoveled into the mouth of the furnace and
is oxidized, i. -
S
9
Practical
applications.
There might be an educational value in using this
method with many persons who cannot move two parts
of the body at nearly the same time. Various exercises
Time and Action. 33
used in preparing speakers and actors, e. g. , simultane-
ous movements of head and hand, could be readily re-
corded.
It is sufficient for practical purposes that the difference
in time should not be noticeable. This is cared for by lookfng smau^'^'
the instructor. It is to be remembered, however, that
differences which the instructor may not notice will never-
theless be noticed by many of the audience. For ex-
ample, the error of simultaneity in piano-playing might
readily be great enough to produce a disagreeable im-
pression on a large part of the audience and yet be so
small as to have escaped the teacher's correction.
Although such means of testing simultaneity would be
desirable for every piano-player, it is, of course, imprac-
ticable to provide smoked drums, spark-coils, etc., for
general use. We must wait till some ingenious mechanic
invents a hand arrangement to place directly on the piano
keys.
We have thus answered our question. Since, when The act occurs
we will to move two hands at the same time, the actual |J?^ ^^^ ^'^^ ^°
movements occur at different times, therefore on each
occasion the act of at least one hand is later than the will.
As there is no reason to suppose that there is any radical
difference between the two hands, it would be unjustifi-
able to draw any other conclusion than that the act is al-
ways behind the will.
And now for the second question. How much is the How much?
act behind the will ? For the correct answer we must
wait until the experimenter can find it.
This question is such an important one that we are
forced to make a guess at it merely in order to get along
with people. The time must be — as we can judge from
our own experience — less than \\ or 100- ; and, since
Rapidity in
tapping.
Fastest
records.
Fatigue.
34 Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
one second is not worth noticing in ordinary matters of
life, we can neglect the time entirely. This does not
hold good in extreme cases. With persons influenced by
curare the act does not follow at all ; in some diseases the
act is much behind time. But for many practical pur-
poses the act can be considered as occurring at the mo-
ment of willing. Such a case is that of rapidly repeated
movements, which we will now consider.
A large portion of the community depends on the
rapidity with which it can will and execute certain acts.
One of the elements of a good telegrapher is his accuracy
and rapidity of tapping.
The experiments on tapping are most accurately
made by the spark method we have just described. The
finger is placed on a telegraph key, as shown in Fig. 5.
The person is told to tap as rapidly as he can. Series
of sparks fly ofl" the end of the point of the time-
marker in Fig. 3. On counting up the records we ob-
tain the number of hundredths of a second for each tap.
A good average rate is 15- per tap, or nearly seven
taps to the second.
The fastest tapping recorded is given as follows :
Middle finger 82".
Hand yl".
Tongue yl".
Jaw 1 1 J.
Foot . . . . . . . . . .11-.
(- = o.oi second.)
The rapidity of tapping decreases with fatigue. Fig.
8 represents the results of a continuous series of taps,
the lower the line the faster the tap ; the straight hori-
zontal line corresponds to a tap-time of 15- and the
short checks on this line mark oK the seconds. At first
Time and Action. 35
the tapping is rather irregular, but it is on the whole very
rapid, one tap-time being only 1 1 -. The tapping soon
Fig. 8. Influence of Fatigue on Tapping-time.
becomes steadier and remains rapid for about seventeen
seconds.* After that it is somewhat slower and more ir-
regular, owing probably to fatigue.
The mental condition has a most powerful influence on influence of
the rapidity of tapping. Excitement makes the tapping S distu?b!^
more rapid. The influence of distraction of attention ^"'^^^
is shown in Fig. 9. This figure has the same meaning
as Fig, 8. Adding 214 and 23 produced a marked
slowness in tapping ; so did the mental labor of multi-
plying 14 by 5. It takes some effort for an ordinary
Fig. 9. Influence of Mental Activity on Tapping-time.
man to perform these calculations, and the mental work
of association seemed to leave less energy for the work
of will. The thought suggests itself of the possibility
of measuring the amount of work involved in various
school exercises by the influence on tapping.
The figure seems to show that momentary distractions
not involving any work, such as whistling, clicking the
tongue, or lighting a match, do not change the rapidity.
They do, however, improve the regularity ; the curve
is smoother. It is a noteworthy fact in all our mental
life that the less attention we pay to an act, the more
regular it is.
The rapidity of tapping varies with the time of day. influence of the
The averages of six weeks of work give the following ^^™^ ^'^ ^^^'-
36
Thinking, Feeling, Doi7ig,
Influence of
habit.
Influence of
age.
Fatigue.
results : at 8 a. m. the time required for making 360
taps is 37.8* ; at 10 a. m., 35.5* ; at 12 m., 34.6'^ ; at 2
P- m., 35. 5« ; at 4 p. m., 33.5^; at 6 p. m., 35.1*.
It is noticeable that these results correspond to the
habits of the pre-
vious two years of
the person* experi-
mented upon ; these
years were spent in
public school work
with a daily pro-
gram beginning at
8 a. m. and closing
at 4 p. m., with an
hour and a half in-
termission at noon.
BOYS AND.CIRU.
BOYS
Fig. ID.
Rapidity of Tapping as Dependent
on Age.
FATIGUE.
The rapidity of action increases steadily with age.
Measurements of tapping-time on one hundred New
Haven school chil-
dren of each age
from six to seven-
teen are shown in
Fig. 10. The fig-
ures at the left give
the number of taps
in five seconds;
those at the bottom
the ages. The little
children are very
slow ; the boys at each age tap much faster than the girls.
In these experiments the children continued tapping
after the five seconds. After tapping thirty-five seconds
longer a record was again taken. The difference between
-sr-
Fig. II.
Fatigue in Tapping as Dependent
on Ag-e.
Time and Action. 37
the two sets of records tells how much the child lost
owing to fatigue. The results are shown in Fig. 11.
The figures on the left give the percentage of loss ; those
at the bottom the ages. Thus, at six years of age the
boys lost 3-2^^^, or 23 per cent of the original number of
taps.
The amount of fatigue was greatest at eight years
and decreased with advancing age. It is very re-
markable that without exception of a single age the
girls were less fatigued than the boys. A comparison
of the two figures suggests a conclusion as to the im-
petuosity of the boyish character.
CHAPTER III.
REACTION-TIME.
A series of
reactions.
The chain-
reaction.
When you signal to the car conductor to stop, he re-
acts by pulHng the bell-strap, the driver reacts to the
sound of the bell by pulling the reins, and the horses
react by coming to a rest. By reaction, then, we will
understand action in response to a signal. The time
between the moment of the signal and the moment
of the act is known as the reaction-time.
Is there any such time ? Quick as thought — that must
be pretty quick. Let a number of persons stand in In-
dian file as if about to march; each one places his right
hand on the head (or shoulder) of the person in front.
Fig. 12. A Series of Reactions.
Bend the file around till a complete circle is formed with
every right hand on the head of the one in front. One
of this file we will call the experimenter; in his left hand
he holds a watch — preferably a stop-watch. All the rest
close their eyes. The instruction is given : Whenever you
38
Reaction- Time.
39
feel a sudden pressure from the hand on your head, you
must immediately press the head of the person in front.
When the second-hand of the watch is at the beginning
of a minute, the experimenter presses the head of the one
in front, he presses that of the next in front, and so on.
The pressure thus passes all around the group and finally
comes back to the experimenter. At the moment he
feels the pressure he notes how many seconds have passed.
Suppose there were ten persons in the circle and the
Fig. 13. Chain-reaction.
watch has gone three seconds ; then three seconds is the
time required for ten acts in response to a signal. The
a\-erage time for one reaction is obtained by dividing the
number of seconds by the number of persons ; thus, in this
case the reaction-time would be to second, or 0.3-^.
Almost all the main experiments in reaction-time and
thinking-time can be illustrated in this way by a group
often or more persons. Some of the most interesting I
will indicate after describing the more accurate methods.
40
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Time is
required for
reaction.
The story of the
astronomer's
assistant.
The story of the
two astron-
omers.
They all
disagree.
Not the fault of
the star.
Others can be readily devised by any one ingenious at
games.
It takes time, then, to react. A hundred years ago
people did not know this. And thereby hangs a tale.
Astronomers have to record the moment of the pas-
sage of a star across lines in a telescope. In 1795 the
British astronomer royal found that his assistant, work-
ing with another telescope at the same time, was making
his records too late by half a second. Later on, this dif-
ference amounted to 0.8-^. This difference was large
enough to seriously disturb the calculations, so the poor
fellow lost his place for the sake of eight tenths of a
second.
Many years later two famous astronomers were ob-
serving the stars together and recording their passages
across the telescope. Strange to say, one was steadily
behind the other. Now it would not do to make accu-
sations against a noted astronomer ; this set people to
thinking. One of the astronomers went to a third as-
tronomer and again there was disagreement. Finally,
after more experience, astronomers in general reached
the conclusion that everybody disagreed with everybody
else. Moreover, men who disagreed in one way at one
time would be likely to disagree differently at another
time ; so that a man did not even agree with himself
As this was evidently not the fault of the star, the
conclusion was finally reached that each person had a
peculiar error of his own. This was called by the queer
name, ' ' personal equation. ' ' The British astronomer,
who did not suspect that he himself might be incorrect,
was perhaps no nearer right than his assistant. At any
rate, the actual time of passing of the star differed from
the recorded time.
Reaction- Ti7?ie.
41
Americans are noted for asking, ' ' How much ? ' '
Science is, in this respect, merely concentrated Ameri-
canism ; it always asks, " How much? "^ It is not suf-
ficient to know that we are always behind time ; let us
make a systematic inquiry of how much time we lose,
A miss is as good as a mile, but it is a very interesting
thing to know just how
bad the miss is. There-
fore we will get to work
systematically to meas-
ure just how much time
we lose in acting to a
signal.
Even the best of us is
inattentive. So to be
rid of all distraction the
person experimented
upon is put in a queer
room, called the ' ' iso-
lated room," whose
thick walls and double
doors keep out all sound
and light. When a per-
son locks himself in, he
has no communication
with the outside world
except by telephone.
All the sights and
sounds can be shut out,
all disturbances of touch can be made small by comfortable
* There are so-called " qualitative sciences " that have no methods of meas-
urement or statistics. These are the demireps of the scientific world with
whom we must put up because we haven't more respectable members of so-
ciety to take their places.
How much
time is
required ?
Fig. 14. In the Reaction-room.
Systematic
work proposed.
The isolated
room.
How it feels.
42
Thmking, Feelhig, Doi?ig.
A source of
disturbance.
More reliable
results.
An explanation.
chairs, but, alas ! we have let in a sad source of disturb-
ance, namely, the person himself. Let me describe what
I hear and see in the silence and darkness of the room.
My clothes creak, scrape, and rustle with every breath ;
the muscles of the cheeks and eyelids rumble ; if I hap-
pen to move my teeth, the noise seems terrific. I hear
a loud and terrible roaring in the head ; of course, I
know it is merely the noise of the blood rushing through
the arteries of the ears (what you hear when you place
a shell to the ear), but I can readily imagine that I pos-
sess an antiquated clock-work and that, when I think, I
can hear the wheels go ' round. As for the light — great
waves of lavender-colored light sweep down in succes-
sion all over the darkness in front ; beautiful blue jings
with purple centers grow and grow and burst, only to start
over again in different colors. The physiologist tells us
that these are merely effects of chemical processes going on
in the eye ; and, indeed, everybody sees these things
when he closes his eyes at night. But that does not help
us to get darkness.
Be it as it may, the results are far more reliable than
those obtained in ordinary laboratories and under ordi-
nary conditions of distraction by the rattle of the
streets, the banging of college clocks, the buzzing of
machinery, and the commotion of students.
It must not be thought that the invention of this room
is an imputation on my part against the attentive powers
of humanity. It is simply a fact, to which we must all
plead guilty, that we cannot pay attention amid the
bustle and roar of life around us. It is easy to imagine
what a boon an office on this plan would be to a busy
banker or a newspaper editor.
Having put the person in the isolated room with
Reaction- Thne.
43
nothing but electrical connection to the apparatus in the Reaction to
other rooms, we will begin by asking how long he requires to so""^.
react to a sound. We will use the graphic method, as illus-
trated in Fig. 3, with the addition. of the spark method
explained in Chapter II. Let us be, modern and send the
sound by telephone. A multiple key, in which electrical
currents can be combined in forty-one different ways, is
so arranged that by pressing it a sound is sent through
a telephone and at exactly the same moment a spark is
made on the drum.
The various arrangements for making the experiments Great accuracy
have been developed to a high grade of accuracy and
convenience. In the recording room
the smoked drum stands on the
table, the electric fork is in front, the
multiple key in the middle. The
multitude of wires and accessory ap-
paratus seems to make a hopeless
chaos, but they are all carefully ar-
ranged for convenience and accuracy.
The person in the isolated room —
let us call him the observer, for short
— sits comfortably with the telephone '^j
at his ear and with a curious electric
reaction-key (Fig. 15) in his hand
(the ordinary telegraph key has
proved itself too awkward and
fatiguing). The forefinger is placed
in the hole of the smaller, or movable,
slide, and the thumb is placed in the hole or against the The reaction-
hook of the lower, or adjustable, slide. Flexible wires ^^^"
lead to the post at the top and to the movable slide.
The hand is placed in any convenient position, and the
The observer.
Fig. 15. Reaction-key.
44
Thinkmg, Feeling, Doing.
The experi-
ment.
thumb and finger are held apart. The shghtest move-
ment of the finger makes a spark on the drum.
When the muhiple key is pressed, the telephone cir-
cuit is closed and whatever sound is sent through the
transmitter is then heard by the person experimented
upon. At exactly the same instant a record is made on
the time-line on the drum. The moment the sound is
The average
results.
Fig. i6. Reaction to Sound.
heard by the person experimented upon, he moves the
finger in the reaction-key ; thus a second record is made
on the time-line. A record similar to that of Fig. 4 is
obtained ; the number of waves, however, will depend
on the particular person, the particular sound, etc.
For noises the reaction-time is a trifle shorter than for
tones. For example, a person who reacts to a noise in
1 1 2" will take perhaps 15- for a tone. Even the whistle
Reaction- Time.
45
of a locomotive is not so conducive to a quick jump by
the passengers on the platform as a sudden escape of
steam.
A particular case of reaction to sound is found in start-
ing a race. In short-distance, or sprint, racing the time
required for the re-
action is a \'ery im-
portant factor. The
starter' s pistol is
fired and the racers
are off, but the man
with a very short
reaction -time will
have gained a re-
spectable fraction of ^^§- ''■ '^^" Pi^toi-key.
a second over the other. To measure this reaction-time
an electric contact is put on the end of the starter's pistol.
The arrangement is shown in Fig. 17. The firing of the
.pistol causes
j^ a cL the wing to fly
back and break an
electric circuit, thus
making a record. A
runner's key of the
kind shown in Fig. 18
is attached to the run-
ner by a thread. The
k;^^
Fig. iS. The Runner's Key.
start of the runner jerks and breaks the thread ; this
moves the lever and makes another record.
Although I have never had time to carry out an ex-
tended series of experiments on racers, the experi-
ments made have shown a few facts. The first point
noticeable is that long-distance runners are very much
Reaction-time
at the start of a
race.
Some results.
46
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Fig. 19. Measuring a Runner's Reaciion-time.
Reaction-time
to touch.
slower than sprint runners who practice quick starting;
this shows that the reaction-time can be reduced by prac-
tice. The reaction-time seems to be longer where the
whole body has to be started than where only a finger is
moved ; the mass to be moved thus seems to have an in-
fluence on the time. In some races the pistol has gone off
and the photograph has been made of the runners before
they have reacted.
The reaction-
time to touch can
be found by using
an instrument
shown in Fig. 20.
The flexible con-
ductors carrying the current pass through the screws of
this stimulator and then through the reaction-key. The
Fig. 20. The Touch-key.
Reaction- Time.
47
person experimented upon closes his eyes. Some one
takes the stimulator and touches him, whereupon he
reacts by moving his finger as before. The stimulator
makes a record on the drum and so does the key.
It can be laid down as a general law that a weak touch
Relation to
intensity.
Fig. 21. Reaction to Touch.
is answered by a slower reaction than a moderately strong
one. As the touch becomes stronger the reaction-time
decreases, but when it becomes very strong the time is
again lengthened. The moral is this: if you want time
to recover after dealing a blow, hit your antagonist ver>^
hard or almost not at all.
To experiment on the re-
action-time for temperature-
sensations a metal ball is
screwed on the touch-stimu-
lator in place of the rubber
tip. The ball is heated or
cooled as desired.
The reaction-time for cold
is somewhat shorter than
that for hot, and both are
longer than for touch. For example, the figures for one
experimenter are : touch, ii-: cold, 12^; hot, 13-.
The reaction-time to light is found by using an electric
Fig. 22. A Reaction to Cold.
Reaction-time
to hot and
cold.
48
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Reaction-time
to light.
The photog-
rapher's appli-
cation.
Reaction-time
in children.
flash instead of the telephone. The intensity of the Hght
has a very great influence. A very weak light might
give 33-, while a strong one would give 20-^ for the same
person.
This interval renders it possible for the photographer
to get perfectly natural flash-light pictures. The flash
goes ofl", the picture is taken, and all is again dark in a
couple hundredths of a second. , But such a small time is
quicker than re-
REACnON TIML
iOYS-
CffilS^
4KnMmC4L vstx
and so
done
persons
IS
Fig. 23. Reaction-time Decreases with Age.
action-time
the whole
before the
can move.
Children become
Steadily quicker as
they grow older.
The results of the
New Haven meas-
urements are shown
in Fig. 23. The
figures at the left indicate the number of hundredths of
a second required for reaction to sight ; those at the bot-
tom the ages. The topmost line in the figure relates to
another matter. Boys are much quicker than girls at
each age — that is, in simple reaction ; how they com-
pare in quickness of thought will be told in the following
chapter.
CHAPTER IV.
THINKING -TIME.
The simple reaction-time has led to a method of
measuring the time of thought. One of the fundamental thought.
processes of thought is recognition. To determine the
time of recognition the subject reacts on one occasion
just as quickly as he can, without waiting to notice what
he is reacting to. In popular phrase, he hits back with-
out waiting to know what struck him. Recognition can-
not be said to be present. On the next occasion he fully
recognizes what he hears, sees, or feels before he reacts.
The difference in time between these two cases gives the
recognition-time. Properly speaking, the former reaction
would be the true, simple reaction, but this distinction is
often overlooked and both kinds are then lumped
together.
Experiments on one subject gave the following recog- Recognition-
nition-times : for a color, 30- ; for a letter, 542^ ; for a *^™^'
short word, 52-,
These times refer to experiments where the person is
ready and eager to recognize the object. How long it
would take to recognize an object unwillingly, e. g., a
tradesman by an English snob, has not yet been deter-
mined.
A single figure, such as a triangle or a square, is recog-
j -11 -1 1 ITT Recognition of
nized as quickly as a simple color. We can grasp complex
enough of a triangle to recognize it without attending to '^ ""^^ ^'
49
50
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Recognition of
letters.
details ; a three-cornered figure is as simple as a color
when nothing but its corneredness is noticed. A single
letter takes the same time as a short word. The total
impression of a well-known object is so familiar to us
that we need no more divide it into its parts in order to
distinguish it than we do in the case of a simple color.
In reading we do not divide the word into its letters, we
grasp the word as a whole by a single thought.
The various letters of the alphabet require different
times for recognition. There are slight differences for
letters of different sets of type; they vary from 0.6'^
(0.006-^) to 5w (0.05-^). The following sets of letters
are arranged in the order of time required.
Good.
Fair.
mwdgvyjpkfblighrxt
mwp qv ykb
dpqmyknw
djrlonig^hu
ogvxhbjlia
Poor.
ov ane s cz
atfsxzce
tuzrscfe
A German requires iw to 2w more time to recognize a
German letters, letter of his antiquated alphabet, for example, )t>, than
to recognize a letter in the Latin type, w. But in read-
ing words no more time is required to recognize the
word in either case. The twists and tails of the old
letters cause a loss of time in recognizing a single letter,
but in grasping the words only the main features receive
attention anyway.
Another of the fundamental processes of thought is
Discrimination- ..... _ . , . 11111 1
time. discrimmation : Is it white or black, loud or weak,
Thinking- Time.
51
For sisrht.
hot or cold? In all cases it takes time to decide.
Suppose that the person on whom the experiment is piscrimination-
made is to discriminate between two different tones. In
addition to the arrangement described on page 43, we re-
quire two tuning-forks of different pitch. The sound is
sent by telephone as before. The person is told not to react
till he has recognized which tone he hears. Sometimes
one tone is sent, sometimes the other. If we determine the
person's reaction-time for a single tone, where he knows
that only one tone is used, and also the reaction-time
with discrimination between two tones, we are justified in
subtracting the former from the latter, and calling the
result the "discrimination-time" for two tones. In a
similar manner the discrimination-time for three, four, or
more tones can be measured.
The discrimination-time for sight can be very prettily
illustrated. The Geissler tubes are filled with differ-
ent gases so that when an electric current is sent through
them they show different colors. An induction-coil (or
spark-coil) is fitted up so that the current can be sent
through any one at pleasure. To get the simple reaction-
time one tube alone, e. g.^ a red tube, is used, the time
between the flash and the reaction being measured as
before. Then two, three, etc., are used, just as men-
tioned for tones. Ordinary times for discrimination can
be represented by the following specimens : for two ob-
jects, 8-; for three, 14-; for four or five, 15-.
The next element of thought-life to be considered is
choice. How shall we determine the choice-time ? The
Geissler tubes can be very conveniently used for this
purpose. The subject places his five fingers on a five-
knobbed telegraph key. When he sees the red light he
is to press his thumb ; when he sees the yellow he is to
Choice-time.
52
Thi7iki7ig, feeling, Doing.
Results.
Time of dis-
crimination and
choice in chain-
reaction.
press his forefinger ; and so on. There are thus five ob-
jects for discrimination and five movements between which
to choose. Of course the time is much lengthened. If
we know the discrimination-time and reaction-time for
five colors, we can subtract these from the total time
with choice, thus getting the choice-time for five. It is
evident that the choice-time for two, three, four, six, or
more objects can be similarly found. One subject gave
a choice-time of 8- for two fingers, with steady increase
i;p to 40- for ten fingers.
After some practice with the same fingers for the same
colors, the act of choice gradually falls out and the move-
ment becomes associated to the color. The extra time
still remaining might be considered as a kind of associa-
tion-time for movements. The association-time in the
usual meaning is measured differently.
The time of discrimination and choice combined can be
obtained from a group of persons without any other ap-
paratus than a watch. The persons of the group stand
in a ring, as shown in Fig. 13, each with his hand
on his neighbor's head. In the first place, the simple
reaction-time is measured by giving the head a slight
push and sending the push all around the circle, as de-
scribed on page 39. "Next time," says the experi-
menter, * ' each of you will receive a slight push on the
head either forward or backward. You are to send the
push along in the same way. ' '
The experiment is made three or four times, sometimes
with a forward push, sometimes with a backward one.
Each person, not knowing which he Is to receive,
will be obliged to discriminate and then choose the ap-
propriate movement of the hand. By subtracting the
simple reaction-time from this last result, the time for
Thinking- Time.
53
discrimination and choice for two things is obtained.
Then the experiment is repeated with three movements:
right, left, or forward. Then with four: right, left, for-
ward, or backward. The time will be found to grow
longer as the number increases.
The time of association of ideas, which is what is Association-
usually meant by association-time, is best measured by ""^'
calling out words or showing pictures to some one who is
to tell what he associates to each. For example, I call
out ' ' house ' ' and you say ' ' street. ' '
A peculiar mouth-key is placed before the transmitter The mouth-key.
in the recording
room and a some-
what similar one in
the experiment
room. The ex-
perimenter shouts
some word, e. g.,
"glass." This
causes the thin plate
in the mouth-key to
rattle and make a
spark record on the
drum. At the same
moment the subject
hears the word in ^'^•'4- Reaction by Voice ; or, the Voice-key.
the telephone at his ear. He shouts back what he
first thinks of, e.g., " water. ' ' This makes a similar
record. The total time between the two records less the
discrimination-time and choice-time will give the associa-
tion-time.
The associations may be of various kinds. In "free" „
■' Free associa-
association, the subject thinks of whatever he pleases. *^°"'
54 Thinkings Feelings Doing.
The time for free association can be put in the neighbor-
hood of 8ow.
In a " forced" association the subject is allowed to as-
Forced sociate only objects bearing certain relations to the object
presented. Thus, whenever he hears the name of a
country he must name one of its cities. In such a case
he has a moderate range of association. In a strictly
forced association there is no freedom. Thus, whenever
the name of a person is mentioned, his native land must
be associated.
I
X
8
= 8
2
X
8
= i6
3
X
8
= 24
4
X
8
= 32
5
X
8
= 40
6
X
8
= 48
7
X
8
= 56
8
X
8
= 64
9
X
8
= 72
lO
X
8'
= 80
II
X
8
:= 88
12
X
8
= 96
Fig. 25. Strictly Forced Associations.
As specimen results we can give the following associa-
Resuits. tion-times: translation from one's own language to one
a trifle less familiar, 15- to 30^; giving the succeeding
month of the year, 25- to 30- ; simple addition of two
figures, i2w to 22-; simple multiplication of two figures,
25-^to35r.
A particular form of association is found in the logical
Thmking- Time. 55
judgment. In fact, many of the forced associations are Logical
really abbreviated logical judgments. Suppose it to be Judgment.
required to associate the whole when a part is given, e. g. ,
given "root," associated "tree"; this is simply a prac-
tical abbreviation of " a root is a part of a tree. ' ' More
difficult cases can be devised. It holds good as a gen-
eral rule that in actual thinking the forms of logical
thought become forced associations.
All our acts are complications of thinking-times, sim-
ple reaction-times, and action-times. Study of mental and
muscular time for practical purposes has been made in
only a few cases.
The visit of several expert swordsmen to Yale furnished Mental and
■*• . . . ,. . muscular time
the opportunity for some experiments on their rapidity in in fencing.
some of the fundamental movements of fencing.
The first experiment included a determination of the First experi-
• 1 r 1 • r ment.
Simple reaction-time and of the time of muscular move-
ment. The fencer stood ready to lunge, with the point
of the foil resting to one side against a metal disk. A
flexible conducting cord, fastened to the handle of the
foil, hung in a loop from the back of the neck. A large
metal disk was placed directly in front of the fencer at a
distance of 75^*" . Just above this disk was a flag held on
a foil by an operator standing behind it. A movement of
the flag was the signal upon which the lunge was ex-
ecuted.
The spark method of recording was so arranged that
the primary circuit passed through the electric switch, a
spark-coil, the flexible conducting cords, the foils, and
either one of the two disks. Every make and break of
this circuit made a spark record on the drum. As long
as the foils rested against the disks the current was closed.
The movement of the flag-foil broke the circuit for an in-
56
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
stant, making a record of the moment of signal.
The first movement of the fencer's foil broke the
circuit again at the small disk, making a record of
the moment of reaction. The striking of the foil
against the large disk made a third record. The time
Fig. 26. Measuring Mental and Muscular Time in Fencing
Second experi-
ment.
between the first and second records gave the simple re-
action-time ; that between the second and third gave the
time of movement through the given distance. About
ten experiments were made on each person.
In the second experiment the flag-foil was moved in
various directions. The point of the foil rested against
the small disk. The movement in any way of the flag was
the signal for a corresponding movement of the foil.
Acts of discrimination and choice were thus introduced
into the reaction-time. The movement of the foils gave
Thinki?ig- Time. 57
records as before. The time required can be called the
reaction-time with discrimination and choice. About ten
experiments were made on each person.
The persons experimented upon consisted of Dr.
Graeme Hammond, Dr. Echverria, Dr. P. F. O'Con-
nor, and Mr. Shaw (all expert amateur fencers), A.
Jacobi, master of arms of the New York Athletic Club,
Prof. Ladd, formerly practiced in fencing, and Prof
Williams, with no knowledge of fencing.
The results were :
I. -Simple reaction-time : Echverria, 17-; Williams,
IQ^" ; Hammond, 19^; Ladd, 232" ; Jacobi, 232*;
Shaw, 23^; O'Connor, 26-.
2. Time of muscular movement involved in the lunge
through 75^"^: Jacobi, 27-; O'Connor, 29-; Echver-
ria, 31-^; Shaw, 32^; Hammond, 32-; Ladd, 522";
Williams, 57-.
3. Reaction-time with discrimination : Hammond,
22w; Ladd, 242"; Williams, 25^; Jacobi, 29-; Ech-
verria, 30-; Shaw, 36-; O'Connor, 36-.
The experiments probably derive their chief value as
calling attention to the experimental study of the psycho-
logical elements involved in games, sports, gymnastics,
and all sorts of athletic work. Without experimenting
on large numbers of fencers and others, I would not
attempt to make any quantitative comparisons between
the two. The following qualitative conclusions seem,
however, to be fully justified.
1. It is possible to analyze fencing movements
into their mental and bodily elements, and to measure
them.
2. The average fencer is not quicker in simple reaction
(where a few mental elements are involved) than a
Results.
Conclusions.
58
Thinking, Peeling, Doing.
Fencing devel-
ops muscular
but not mental
quickness.
Mental and
muscular time
in arm move-
ments.
trained scientist, and neither class shows an excessive
rapidity.
3. When once the mind is made up to execute a
movement, fencers are far quicker in the actual execu-
tion. In rough figures, it takes them only half as long
as the average individual.
4. As the mental process becomes more complicated, the
time required by the average fencer is greater than that
required by a trained scientist. The shortest time of all,
however, is that of Dr. Hammond, whose mental quick-
ness has probably been developed in some other, way.
5. The general conclusion seems to be that fencing
does not develop mental quickness more than scientific
pursuits, but it does develop to a high degree the .rapid-
ity of executing movements. It would be important to
determine if this holds good of the other sports and ex-
ercises, or if some of them are especially adapted to
training mental quickness.
In order to study the quickness of movements of the
arm we use the apparatus shown in Fig. 27. A horizon-
tal brass bar carries on it three adjustable blocks, A, B,
and C. The block A has a flag which may be suddenly
Fig. 27. Apparatus for Measuring Rapidity of Thought and Action.
jerked to one side by a thread. The other blocks have
light bamboo sticks projecting upward. The whole ar-
rangement as used on a pugilist is shown in Fig. 28.
The boxer takes his position and places his fist just be-
hind the stick at C. At the moment the flag moves he
Thinkmg- Time.
59
is to strike straight out. The apparatus is connected
with the spark-coil and the recording drum.
The flag is jerked ; this makes a spark on the time-
Hne. The boxer strikes, knocking down both sticks.
Each stick makes a spark also. We thus have three
sparks on the time-line. The time between the first and
the second gives the simple reaction of the boxer ; that
Time of reaction
and action of a
pugilist.
Fig. 28. Measuring how Rapidly a Pugilist Thinks and Acts.
between the second and the third gives the time required
for the fist to travel the distance between the two sticks.
The boxer is next told that the flag will be jerked to
the right or left in irregular order and he is to punch
only when it goes to the left. He is thus obliged to dis-
criminate and choose. Sparks are obtained as before,
but the time between the first two dots is longer because
two extra mental acts are included.
It is possible to use not only men, women, children,
Time of dis-
crimination and
choice.
6o
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
athletes, pugilists, and others as animals for experiment ;
we can also use dogs and cats. One of my pupils has
contrived a similar arrangement for measuring how fast
How fast a dog a dog thinks. The general plan is shown in Fig. 29.
thinks
The results cannot yet be made public, as it is the rule
of the laboratory to let the experimenter speak first.
In the New Haven experiments the school children
Time of dis-
crimination and
choice as de-
pending on age.
Fig. 29. Measuring how Fast a Dog Thinks.
were required to distinguish between two colors, reacting
to blue and not to red. This involved the mental proc-
esses of discrimination and choice, in addition to simple
reaction. The results are shown in Fig. 30. The figures
at the bottom indicate the ages ; those at the left give the
number of hundredths of a second required for reaction
with discrimination and choice. The topmost line does
not concern us here.
Thi7ikmg- Tmie.
6i
The figures seem
The time required decreases with age. On the whole,
the boys and girls are equally quick, the differences gen-
erally being too small to be worth noticing. It might be
suggested that, since boys are quicker in simple reaction,
they must take a longer time for mere discrimination and
choice in order to give equal totals,
to indicate that for
the more involved
mental processes the
girls are quicker, but
I hesitate to admit
such a libel on my
own sex.
Irvang said that
Americans worship
only one god, the
Almighty Dollar.
He was wrong;
there is a mightier
one, the Moloch of
BOJS AND GIRLS
-BOYS
QIBli
ARITHMETICAI MEAN.
Fig. 30.
Time of Thought at Various Ages in
School Children.
Girls and boys
compared.
Time, the great
independent vari-
able, is the only force over which we can gain no control.
Man can annihilate space and fight power with power,
but — tick, tick, tick — the little watch counts off the sec-
onds, not one of which can be hindered from coming or
be recalled when past.
Time is the most precious of commodities. No
one wants a six-hour train to Boston when a five-
hour train is at hand. Slow horses to the engine give
the fire a fatal opportunity. Battles have been gained
by the quickness of the cavalry. Death may readily
Mighty time.
Value of time.
62 Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
be carried at the sword's point of a quick antagonist.
Time is money. Rapid thought and quick action
sometimes make all the difference between success and
failure. Every thought we think, every act we perform,
takes time. A man who can think and act in one half
the time that another man can, will accumulate mental
or material capital twice as fast. If we could think
twice as fast as we do, we would live twice as long, al-
though we would live only the same number of years.
Country people think more slowly than city people ; the
uneducated more slowly than the educated. In general the
Americans are very rapid thinkers. To-day the mental
processes of the mass of the people go at a much more
rapid rate than they did a few centuries ago. The mind
has been educated by our whole civilization to act more
rapidly. To-day our thoughts travel like trolley-cars.
The difference between the sluggish Englishman of
Civilization has medieval timcs and the quick Yankee of to-day is de-
de^reasedthe j-^j^^^^n^ ^^j^^ -^^ y^^^^ Twain' s " King Arthur." If it
°"^ ■ were possible to take a man of two centuries ago and
bring him into the laboratory, the results obtained from
experiments upon him would be entirely different from
those obtained from one of the students of to-day. The
reactions of the student would be much more rapid, es-
pecially the complicated ones. A great deal in the edu-
cation of children is to reduce their reaction-times.
When the country boy first comes into the schoolroom
everything he does takes him a very much longer time
than when he has been there for a while, especially any
complicated act. Arithmetic, for example, is simply a
matter of the association of a set of ideas. We give just
so much time to do an example. When that time is over
the pencil must be put down, the slate dropped. The
Thinking- Time. 63
child who is slow is at great disadvantage. Education in
arithmetic, especially mental arithmetic, has for its object
mainly the reducing of the time in associating ideas ; say
one half toward producing a firm memory of the associ-
ations and the other half in making them more rapid.
Rapidity in movement and thought is a part of our Education of
education to which we must pay some attention. Mental '^^^^ ' ^'
rapidity is increased by repetition, provided the repeti-
tion does not continue long enough to bring opposing
forces into play. For example, the oftener we repeat a
poem from memory, the more rapidly it can be done,
provided we do not become fatigued.
To increase the rapidity of the act it is not sufficient Method of
to simply repeat it without fatigue ; unless there is pres- ^^*'"'"S^-
ent a conscious or unconscious determination to change
the time of the process, there is no reason for expecting
it to change. The first requisite for increase in rapidity
is thus a desire for such an increase.
Let it be required to increase the rapidity with which
a child performs his arithmetical associations. If allowed arithmetic! ^°"^
to do his sums in any time he pleased to take, constant
practice might not cause the slightest change in rapidity.
If, however, he were stimulated by hearing the pencils
of his comrades, by seeing them finish before him, or by
the general influence of a bright, sunny day, he might
do his work more rapidly, although he had not had the
slightest intention of doing so or perhaps even the
knowledge that he had done so. Such influences might
be called unconscious motives. By a conscious motive
we would mean a definite intention of getting the sum
done more quickly. Our general experience in life jus-
tifies us in believing that a conscious motive is more effi-
cient than an unconscious one.
64
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Increased
rapidity in
language-
lessons.
Where the gain
lies.
The manner in which rapidity of thought is increased
by practice in learning a language has been made the
subject of experiment. Ten boys were taken from each
class of a high school and were asked to read rapidly the
first hundred words of a Latin book. The number of
seconds that they required is shown in the following list :
Class lo, average age 9, average time 262-^
" 9,
" II,
135'
" 8,
" 12,
lOO-^
" 7,
" 13,
89^
" 6,
" 14,
79'
" 5,
" 15,
57'
" 4>
" 16,
54'
" 3,
- 18,
49'
" 2, *'
" 19,
48^
<< I, "
" 22,
43'
The lowest class knew nothing about Latin, the rest
had begun it in Class 9.
When the same children were tested with their native
language the results were vSuccessively 72-^, 55-^, 43-^, 37-^,
39-^, 28-^, 27-^, 26-^, 25-^, 23-^. There was a similar gain.
Was the gain due to general gain in mental rapidity ?
One hundred papers of five familiar colors were shown and
each child was required to name them. The average
times were 83-^, 66-^, 79-^, 66-^, 63-^, 56-^, 63-^, 63-=^, 54-^.
There had been a general gain in quickness but not
nearly so great a gain as for the words. A study of the
blunders made by the children showed that in the next to
the lowest class there was a very slight tendency to grasp
the Latin letters as words ; they blundered occasionally
by reading a similar word for the correct one. In the
succeeding and higher classes this mistaking of words
became steadily more frequent ; they had been trained to
Thinking- Time. 65
grasp larger groups as single things and in this manner
to save time in discrimination.
This same ability to grasp a greater quantity of matter Language in
by means of characteristic marks, whereby the details
can be supplied as needed, is what makes the difference
between English and Latin in the composing room.
While setting up English the compositor works by the
em, that is, by quantity ; while setting up foreign words
he works by the hour, as such work is very slow.
How far we can push the education of rapidity in all
the elements that make up thinking-time, reaction-time, cated rapidity.
and action-time can be seen in the records for rapidity
of telegraphing and typewriting.
By careful estimate it has been found that in general
press matter the average number of letters per word is
five, and that the average number of vibrations of the
key in the formation of the telegraphic characters is five
to each letter. Thus it is seen that there are twenty-five
vibrations of the key in the formation of each word.
Now, were it possible for an operator to transmit sixty
words per minute, he would make one word, or five letters,
per second, being twenty-five vibrations of the key per
second.
When we consider that the telegraphic alphabet is
made up of dots and dashes and spaces of various thought and
lengths, and that these almost incredibly rapid vibrations telegrapher,
must be so clear and clean cut as to be easily read by the
ear, we can form an approximate idea of the wonder of
such an achievement. The most rapid manipulator in
the country has reached a speed of fifty-four words per
minute, which is about 23! vibrations of the key per record!*°"^ '^
second. Expert typo-telegraphers can receive and re-
cord his transmissions with ease.
66 Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
By use of the Phillips system of code words an expert
transmitter and typo-telegrapher can handle press matter
at the rate of from sixty-five to seventy words per
minute. One noted telegrapher claims to have read by
sound from automatic transmission up to seventy words
per minute, which is in the neighborhood of thirty vibra-
tions of the instrument per second. To do this the ear
must be long and carefully trained to be able to distinguish
and translate into words and sentences the sounds coming
to it in such rapid vibrations. It would be impossible to
read from a transmission much beyond this speed.
CHAPTER V.
STEADINESS AND CONTROL.
Steadiness of action may be steadiness of position
Steadiness of
or Steadiness of movement. In position the impulses to action.
the various muscles are so arranged that the member or
the body remains still. In movement the impulses are
varied in power in such a way that a change occurs.
In studying action, voluntary or involuntary, we need
Fig. 31. Taking a Record of Steadiness.
to have some method of recording every part of the act. Air transmis-
This is found in the principle of air transmission.
In investigations of the steadiness of position we gen-
67
68
Thmking^ Feeliyig^ Doing.
The capsules.
The record.
erally make use of a pair of capsules. Each one con-
sists of a little metal dish covered with thin rubber.
From one dish a tube leads to the other. A very light
lever is placed above each dish ; the lever carries a
light plate which rests on the rubber top. If one of
the levers is moved downward, as by the hand in Fig.
31, the rubber will be pressed in and the air will be
slightly pressed out through the tube. The pressure
will pass along the tube to the other capsule, where it
will bulge the rubber top and will make the other lever
move upward. When the lever is released, the spring
will draw it back, the air will be drawn in, and the other
lever will move downward.
To make a record, a fine metal point is attached to
the second lever and is made to write on a surface of
smoke. A metal cylinder is covered with paper and is
then smoked in a gas flame, as previously described.
The most frequently used cylinder for slow movements
Fig. 32. Arrangement of Capsules for Steadiness under Guidance of the Eye.
Steadiness of
the arm.
is a clock-work drum of the kind shown in Fig. 31.
The fine point of the second, or recording, lever is made
to touch the surface of the smoked paper. The point
then writes a picture (upside down) of the movement
imparted to the end of the receiving lever.
Let us now take some particular problem, such as the
steadiness of the arm, guided by the eye. The arrange-
Steadiness and Coiitrol. 69
ment can be that shown in Fig 32. Every shake of the
arm will be transmitted to the recording point and will
be scratched in the smoke on the drum. Under guid-
Fig. 33. A Record of Steadiness.
ance of the eye the position can be kept the same ;
whether the steadiness increases or decreases remains to
be determined. The lever of the receiving capsule is
made very long. Its point is held by the finger opposite under guidance
a dot on a card. It is impossible to keep the point ° ^ ^^^^'
opposite the dot ; there is constant shaking.
A specimen record is given in Fig. 33. During the
time between the two vertical strokes the attention was
disturbed by some one walking around the room.
Let us study steadiness in a concrete case, say in hold-
Fig. 34. Recording a Sportsman's Unsteadiness.
70
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
A sportsman's
steadiness.
Steadiness in
standino:.
Trembling of
the hand.
Trembling of
the tongue.
ing a gun. The sportsman takes his position, stand-
ing, with gun aimed at the target. A thread hangs down
from the gun with a small sinker at the end to keep it
stretched. The thread is given one turn around the arm
of a receiving capsule, as seen in the figure.
The method is a wonderfully convenient one and can
be applied to a
study of almost
every position taken
by the body. By
placing the arm of
the receiving cap-
sule on the head, as
shown in Fig. 35, a
record of the fluctu-
ation in height can
be made.
Persons inclined
to loss of control
over their muscles
often s|iow symp-
toms in early life. It
is well to test the
Fig. 35. Steadiness in Standing. , . - ,
Steadiness 01 the
hand in children. A very convenient method of study-
ing the trembling of the hand is shown in Fig. 36. The
capsule is connected with the recording capsule as before.
By a tongue-capsule, as in Fig. 37, we are able to
tell how still the tongue can be held. If it should be
proven possible by the trembling of the tongue in child-
hood to foretell which persons would become talkative in
later life, precautionary measures might be taken.
The most interesting fact about these experiments in
Steadmess and Control, 71
steadiness is that the will is to have a steady position but ^^jj ^^ ^^^^^^^
the execution is defective. As the will is exerted the to execution,
steadiness of position is increased. This is sometimes so
marked as to be visible to the eye directly. I have seen
the scalpel tremble in a surgeon' s hand so that a serious
Steadiness of
Fig. 36. Studying the Trembling of Fig. 37. Studying the Stead-
the Hand. iness of the Tongue.
accident appeared inevitable ; yet when the supreme mo-
ment came the hand guided the knife with admirable
steadiness.
Proceeding from steadiness for position we come to
the question of steadiness of movements. Owing to the movements,
difficulties of apparatus, this subject has not received so
much study as the other. There are, however, several
very practical and simple experiments that can be made.
In free-hand drawing- it is frequently desirable to make
■^ , . Drawmg a
a straight line. The line as actually made is always straight line.
more or less irregular. I once proposed the following
problem : Suppose we desire to draw a line 100*"*" long,
what is the most accurate method of making it straight?
As it was most Important to know the facts for school
children, the experiments were performed on ten boys.
The boys all sat at their desks in just the same po-
. - - • 1 1 1 r Method of
sitions. A sheet 01 paper seven inches long by lour experiment,
inches wide was placed before each. In the middle of
the sheet were two dots 100'""^ apart, lengthwise of the
paper. At a given signal each boy drew a straight line
72
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
Results.
Explanation.
between the dots. Afterwards a ruler was laid on each
sheet so that its edge cut the dots. With a pair of di-
viders the greatest deviation of the line drawn from the
true straight line was found.
In the first sets the boys sat squarely in front of the
desk, holding the pencils in the usual way, grasped near
the middle. The line was drawn with a single movement
of the pencil, without going- over it a second time or
erasing. The first line drawn was horizontal, /. ^. ,
parallel to the front surface of the body. On the second
set of papers the line drawn was vertical, the other con-
ditions remaining the same. In the third set the line
was 45° to the right, in the fourth 45° to the left. The
positions of these lines can be thus shown : •
0^
■^ 270° ll 45° /^
/
325^
xN
The facing position proved to be more favorable for
horizontal and vertical lines than for inclined lines. The
right-side position is also more favorable for horizontal
and vertical than for 45° and 325°. This is what we
might expect as a result of the law that the eye moves
more easily upward, downward, right, and left (/. :,■■.
till he feels the two
points distinctly.
Now start with a
somewhat greater ^''^•^^- The Complete ^sthesiometer.
distance and proceed backward till only one point is felt.
The average of the two results is the threshold of skin-
space at the particular pressure for the particular place
of the particular person experimented upon.
Here is a specimen table of results from Weber : Results.
Tongue i"^"^
Inner side of first finger-joint . 2"^*"
Lips (red portion) 5"^"^
Inner side of second finger-joint 7"^"^
Lips (skin) 9"^"^
Cheek, big toe umm
Forehead 23"^"^
Back of hand 31"^"^
Leg 40"^"^
Neck 54"^"^
Middle of back, upper arm, thigh 68"^"^
It is a remarkable fact that the skin can be educated Education of
by practice so that the threshold is much reduced. This
can be measured directly by Weber's compass ; any one
with a pair of dividers can try the experiment on him-
self
The blind, who pay constant attention to their finger- Threshold of
tips, have very small thresholds. Curiously enough, theblind.'^"^
112
Thi7iking, Feelings Domg.
Cross-
education.
Location of
points on the
skin.
their thresholds are also smaller on the back and on
other places which they do not use more than other
people. The superiority of the blind in this respect
would seem to be due to increased attention to the skin.
A further evidence of this explanation is the fact that ed-
ucation of one part of the body brings a special decrease
of the threshold for the neighboring parts and for the same
portion of the opposite side of the body. The experi-
ment can be performed in this way : First find the thresh-
old for the front
of the wrist of the
left arm, trying it
five times ; then
find it for the
same place on the
right arm, trying
for ten minutes ;
then on trying
again on the left
arm the threshold
will be found to
be less.
The fineness
of distinction for
space on the skin
can be shown in
a simpler but less
accurate way.
The person ex-
perimented upon closes his eyes. Some one touches
him with a pencil point and he moves another pencil to
the point where he was touched. The error is measured.
There is an interesting application of this experiment
Fig, 63. Testing a Child's Idea of Skin-space.
Touch.
113
iment
with a child.
which I will propose to mothers. Young children cannot Exper
be made to understand either of the last two experi-
ments. An intelligent and patient mother, however,
can teach her child, even before it can talk, to put its
finger to the spot on which it is touched. Dip the end
of the child's finger into something black, e. g., soot,
pencil-filings, powdered graphite, or blacking. Touch
the child with a pencil and let him point to the spot.
Measure the distance between the pencil mark and the
finger mark.
Our experience has taught us that the various portions
of the skin stand in certain space-
relations. Thus we know that some-
thing touching the middle finger is
further from the thumb than something
touching the index finger. When the
fingers are out of their places we are
irresistibly driven to judge as if they
were in proper order. This is illus-
trated by what is known as Aristotle's
experiment. The middle finger Is
crossed over the index finger In such a
way as to bring the tip of the middle
finger on the thumb-side of the other. A pea or other
small object, when inserted between the two, will appear
as two objects. It is difficult to re-learn the arrangement
of the skin in space. We thus see why a person whose
nose has been re-formed by a piece of skin from the fore-
head, for a while feels all contact on the nose as if it Avere
contact on the forehead.
A similar illusion is produced by placing a pencil be-
tween the lips and moving the under-lip to one side.
There are apparently two pencils.
Fig. 64. Aristotle's
Illusion.
Perplexing the
skin's idea of
location.
The finger
illusion.
The lip illusion.
114
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
Interrupted
space.
Smoothness
and roughness.
The distortion of space under unusual conditions is
familiar to persons in the dentist' s chair.
The distance between two points on the skin seems
Lip Illusion : i. The Reality; 2. The Feeling.
greater when the skin between these points is also
touched. If four pins are pounded in a straight line into
a stick at one fourth
of an inch apart, the
distance between the
end pins will appear
greater than that
between two sepa-
rate pins three
fourths of an inch
apart.
The distances
apart of the various
points that we feel
are what we know
under the names of
smoothness and
roughness. A bil-
liard-ball is "smooth," that is, our sensations of touch
Fig. 66.
Space as Estimated by a Tooth under
Treatment.
Touch. 115
are evenly distributed. Carpet is "rough," that is, it
produces uneven sensations. Sandpaper is peculiarly
' ' rough, ' ' because very intense and limited sensations
from the sharp sand are mingled with smoother ones
and gaps. X'elvet, when felt backward, has a peculiar
rough smoothness, because the separate points of the
individual hairs produce separate sensations, yet they
are so near together as to resemble smoothness. Short-
nap plush has a similar feeling. The smoothness of
baby's cheeks can be contrasted with the skin of the
inhabitants of Brobdingnag.
If a little cardboard triangle, circle, or square be i^^easofform
laid on the hand and pressed down by the point of a
knife or a pencil in the center, we get a combination of
pressures from every point on the surface. Certain
combinations are said to belong to triangular objects,
certain others to circular objects. The pressures thus
not only represent a quality of surface but also of form.
As the judgment of distances is limited to distances
larger than the threshold, very small cardboard forms
all appear as points.
CHAPTER IX.
HOT AND COLD.
In the old days it was supposed that heat and cold
hot\nd cofd.^ were two different things ; even to-day the uneducated
person cannot grasp the idea that coldness is simply the
absence of heat, that a piece of ice is cold simply because
it is not hot. But the modern development of physics
has shown that heat consists of motion among the little
idea.^ ^^^^^ moleculcs of which all bodies are supposed to be com-
posed, and that as this motion becomes less the bodies
are said to be cold. Thus, a glass of warm water differs
from a glass of cold water simply in the fact that the
molecules of the water in the former are moving rapidly,
while in the latter they are comparatively quiet.
Strange as it may seem, it was discovered a few
cai1dea.*^^°^°^'' years ago that the ordinary common sense of every-
day people was right. Not that the science of physics
was wrong, but that the conclusion drawn was in-
correct. Hotness and coldness are two entirely differ-
ent things from our point of view. A glass of water is
warm because it gives us a feeling, or sensation, of
warmth ; another glass is cool because it gives us an en-
tirely different sensation of coldness. The complete dis-
. tinction of our feelings of hotness and coldness from the
physical condition of the molecules of the object touched
is emphasized by an experiment in which the same object
feels both hot and cold at the same time.
Ii6
Hot and Cold. 117
a cast
Our sensations of hot and cold come from little spots Hot spots and
called hot spots and cold spots. To tind the cold spots ^"^^^ ^p°^''-
a pointed rod, e. g. , a lathe center, a pointed nail, or
even a lead pencil, is cooled and then moved slowly and
lightly over the skin. At certain points
distinct sensations of cold will flash out, .,,;• .•»o*.*
while elsewhere nothing but contact or ••••••'.*•
vague coldness is felt. These points are
the cold spots ; a specimen arrangement of
them is shown in Fig. 67.
To find the hot spots the metal point is q
heated and applied in a similar manner. Fig. 67^ a Coid-
spot Map.
The hot spots are everywhere different
from the cold spots. A specimen case is shown in Fig. 68.
At the art store get a few pounds of plaster for casts jyj^i,-^^
(the finely ground plaster, not the ordinary plaster of of the hand
Paris). Mix it with water in a bowl. Pour out a por-
tion into a tin pie-plate. Now press the hand (palm or
back) down upon it, being careful to touch the plaster at
every point. When the plaster has hardened sufficiently
to permit the removal of the hand without
**.;j, sticking, carefully raise it. A perfect cast
the hand is obtained with every line ex-
pressed.
\o\\ prepare yourself with a glass of ice
water, a crlass of hot water, some red and ^. _,. ^^
rw . . . Finding tht
Fie 68 A Hot ^^"^^ t)lue ink, a pointed metal pencil (or spots.
spot Map. a sharp lead pencil), and a couple of tooth-
picks. Cool the pencil in the ice water. Dry it and
pass it over the skin. Whenever a cold spot flashes out,
mark its position in blue ink with a toothpick on the
cast. The fine creases in the skin will enable you to
locate it exactly. Repeat this a few times, till you are
Permanent
record.
ii8
Thinking, Feeling, Doiyig.
satisfied that you have a map of all the cold spots.
Warm the pencil in the hot water and find the hot spots
in the same way. Mark them on the cast in red ink.
When you have finished you will have a complete
geography of your temperature spots on a relief map.
Separate the cast from the pie-plate ; make a plush frame
for it, and hang it up in your art gallery. Those of you
Fig. 69. Finding the Hot and Cold Spots.
who are willing to do a trifle more work can use the im-
pressed cast as a mold from which to get a hand in actual
relief Very few of us can afford a gallery of statues of
ourselves to be transmitted as remembrances to our de-
scendants. Why should not such collections of hands,
with their hot and cold spots, be found in future centuries
in the ancestral galleries of our posterity ? Mental pecul-
iarities are of as much interest as oddities of dress ; in-
Hot and Cold, 119
deed, to our descendants they are of far greater interest
and importance. Any one who is wiUing to give a little
more time to the matter might find out the threshold of
touch (page 103) for various places on the hand and
mark the number of milligrams on the cast.
In very accurate work we are troubled by the impos- Automatic
sibility of keeping the metal pencil at anywhere near the J^cath? °the
same temperature and by the uncertainty in marking the ^p°^^-
spots. To overcome these difficulties I have invented an
instrument for mapping the hot and cold spots on the
skin. It consists of a pointed copper box whose sides
are protected by felt. Through this box there runs a
steady stream of water from a reservoir. The water in
this reservoir is kept at just the same degree of heat by
means of an automatic regulator of the flame. A ther-
mometer in the copper box tells what the temperature of
the point is. By adding cold water from another reser-
voir, we can use any temperature we desire. The little
copper box is made to travel over the hand ; as it does
so a pencil travels just above a piece of paper. When-
ever a spot is felt, the person presses a telegraph key
with the other hand ; by means of a magnet this causes
the pencil to strike downward and make a dot on the
paper. By these means an accurate map is automatically
made.
The hot spots are ordinarily not sensitive to coldness .,
^ -^ Always hot and
or the cold spots to heat. Yet a very hot point applied to ^oid from the
•' i- i- ^ same spots.
a cold Spot SO as not to reach hot spots also will feel cold ;
of course, to a hot spot it is intensely hot. It is note-
worthy that when the hand is applied to a very hot or a
very cold object there is often doubt for a few moments
whether it is hot or cold.
The temperature spots answer to tapping by sensations
I20 Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
of hot or cold. For example, choose a sensitive cold
spot and let some one tap it with a fine wooden point ;
it will feel cold. Thrust a needle into it ; it will feel no
pain.
Law of change I^^ Studying the subject of touch we had occasion to
co'id.^'^^"^ notice a certain law of change (page io8). Does such a
law hold good for hot and cold ? By experiments with
the spot apparatus mentioned above I was able to prove
that it did ; the smallest noticeable change depends on the
rate of change. But that complicated apparatus is not
necessary to illustrate the law ; anybody can do it by means
of a lamp and a spoon. Let some one else hold the spoon
An experiment. ^^ ^^ extreme end ; you yourself put your finger about
half way down the handle. The bowl of the spoon is
now held over a lamp so that it will slowly become hot.
If the lamp shines too hotly on your hand, you can put
a screen in front. After a while the handle of the spoon
under your finger begins to feel slightly warm. Lift the
finger and immediately place the same finger of the other
hand on the same place. The spoon will be found to be
quite warm or even painfully hot. When the heat was
gradually increased it was scarcely noticed, but when
suddenly increased it was clear at once ; in short, the
sensitiveness to heat depends on the rate of change.
At a very slow Although a frog jumps readily when put in warm
water, yet a frog can be boiled without a movement, if
the water is heated slowly enough. In one experiment
(Fig. 70) the water was heated at the rate of o.oo2°C
(toVoo of a degree Fahrenheit) per second ; the frog
never moved and at the end of two and one half hours
was found dead. He had evidently been boiled without
noticing it. *
It seems very strange that this law of mental life should
rate.
Hot and Cold.
121
have remained unnoticed so long. In mechanics we
study the velocity of a point ; this would correspond to the
rate of change in sensation. Physiologists have proven
that in experimenting on nerves and muscles the effect
depends on the rate of change. From psychological
writers we have heard it repeated
ad nauseam that there is no con-
sciousness without change. What
a little step it is to the statement
that our appreciation of a change
depends on the 7'ate of change !
After all, every one of my read-
ers has discovered
the law already.
"Why, how tall
you have
grown
since I last saw
you I ' ' exclaims the
visitor who has not
seen Robbie for
three months. "Do you really think so?" asks the
mother. ' ' I had not noticed it. ' ' The visitor had kept
in mind Robbie's picture as she last saw him, and the
change to the real Robbie of the present was sudden.
To the mother the change had been gradual.
There is a curious connection between temperature and
pressure. Cold or hot bodies feel heavier than bodies of
equal weight at the temperature of the skin. For cold,
take two silver dollars ; keep one of them closed in the
hand to give it the temperature of the skin, but cool the
other. Apply them in succession to the palm of some
one's hand. The cold one will seem much heavier,
which suggests a pleasant means of illusion for the poor
Importance of
the law.
Fig. 70. Boilino- a Frog without His Knowing it.
No Sensation with an Extremely Slow
Rate of Change.
Example.
122 Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
man. Heat does not make so much difference as cold.
For a successful experiment take two wooden cylinders
of equal weight and heat one very hot in an oven.
Apply the cylinders on end to the back of the hand.
CHAPTER X.
SMELL AND TASTE.
Ix SPITE of the antiquity of lanoruae'e we have no
^ - . ^ ^ . No names for
names for smells. A\ hen we notice an odor, we name it smells,
bv the source from which it comes. We speak of the
odor of violets, of new-mown hay, of onions, and so on,
but we have no name for the odor itself.
The structure of the smell organs in the nose has
been studied most minutely and accurately ; their anat-
omy, as the science is called, is well known. The
chemist can tell us accurately concerning most of the
bodies from which we obtain smells. Strange as it may
seem, the facts that interest us most of all, the smells
themselves, have been neglected by science.
The lack of names for odors is very curious, especially
because such a lack is not present in sight, hearing, or
even taste. We might say that certain things taste like
sugar, certain others like quinine, and so on ; but that
would be only a roundabout way of saying they were
" sweet " or " sour." Instead of classifying the colors,
as grass-color, dandelion-color, coal-color, etc., we say
green, yellow, black, etc. But in smell we can only
speak of cabbage-odor, fishy-odor, violet-odor, and the
like, for the language lacks names entirely.
Not only do we have no names for odors ; we do not
No reason for
know any reason why different things smell alike. Why resemblances.
should compounds of arsenic smell like garlic? If we
124
Thinking, Feeliyig, Doing.
Groups of
perfumes.
Threshold of
smell.
Olfactometer.
mix sulphuric acid with water, we get an odor like musk.
It is said that emeralds, rubies, and pearls, if ground to-
gether for a long time, give out an odor like that of
violets. Again, ringworm of the scalp, the body of a
patient sick with typhus, and a mouse have similar odors.
Perfumes can often be placed in similar groups. The
rose type includes geranium, eglantine, and violet-ebony ;
the jasmine type, lily of the valley and ylang-ylang ; the
orange type, acacia, syringa, and orange-flower ; the
vanilla type, balsam of Peru, benzoin, storax, tonka
bean (usually sold for vanilla extract), and heliotrope ;
the lavender type, thyme and marjoram ; the mint type,
peppermint, balsam, and sage ; the musk type, musk and
amber seed ; the fruity type, pear, apple, pine-apple, and
quince.
What is the threshold of smell ? There is a conven-
ient but not highly accurate way of answering the ques-
tion by means of what I shall call the " smeller " (olfac-
tometer, or smell-measurer).
The smeller includes a glass tube (Fig. 71) fastened
on a narrow board. Inside this tube is a
narrow strip of blotting-paper moistened
with the object to be smelled. A solution
10 II \Z 13 14 IS 16 17 18
Fig. 71. Olfactometer, or Smell-measurer.
of camphor in alcohol is convenient ; the solution dries,
leaving the strip filled with small particles of camphor.
Any other not too odorous liquid may take the place
of the camphor solution. Inside this tube is a smaller
Smell and Taste. 125
one on the end of which is a piece of rubber tubing. A
scale is marked on the board below the tubes.
The end of the smaller tube is pushed to the end of Experiment,
the larger one. The old air in it is blown out. The rub-
ber tube is put to the nose. The smaller tube is now
slowly drawn backward, while the person breathes in air
through it. When he first perceives an odor, the dis-
tance through which the smaller tube has been drawn
from the end of the larger one, is noted. Now, the fur-
ther the tube is drawn back, the greater the distance
over the blotter traveled by the air breathed ; conse-
quently there is more of the camphor odor in the air.
The number thus noted down gives an idea, though
not a very accurate one, of the person's threshold of
smell.
The threshold of smell will often be found to be differ-
ent for the two nostrils.
In the whole range of psychology there is nowhere Different
to be found a more striking method of illustrating the k^now^edS^^
difference between the different thresholds of knowledge.
As the smelling-tube is pulled backward the observer
at first notices no odor ; the odor is said to be below the
threshold. After a while he says, ' ' I smell something,
but I can't tell what it is" ; a sensation is there, it is
known as an odor ; it has passed the threshold of sen-
sation but has not reached the threshold of recognition
(if I may use such an expression). The odor becomes
stronger and stronger ; finally the observer exclaims,
' ' Now I know the odor ; let me think a moment and I
will tell you the name. ' ' Very frequently he recognizes
the odor without being able to recollect the name. The
difference between the threshold of sensation and the
threshold of recognition is often considerable. If the
,126
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Fatigue.
Two senses of
smell.
odor is Still further increased, the name, for usual sub-
stances, is readily recollected.
Our sense of smell can be fatigued. Holding a piece
of camphor for some minutes before the nose will raise
the threshold for camphor. With an olfactometer
charged with camphor the threshold as measured before
fatiguing the sense of smell will be found to be much
lower than the threshold afterwards. Sometimes the
fatigue is so great that the smell of camphor is entirely
lost. The cook soon ceases to notice the boiling
cabbage, which appears so very odorous to a person
just entering the house. The only way to live with
people who eat onions or garlic is to eat them your-
self; in a double sense, when in Rome, do as the Ro-
mans do.
Strangely enough the fatigue affects some odors 'and
not others. If the sense be affected by camphor-fatigue,
the smell of wax will be diminished or lost, but essence
of cloves will appear undiminished in strength.
A whole laboratory can be found in the garden and
in the pantry — a laboratory that has hitherto been put
to little use for psychology. I suggest to my readers
that they try the effect of fatigue of the odor of one
flower, say tuberose, on the odors of other flowers.
We have two senses of smell, the two halves of the
nose. As it is difficult to attend to two things at the
same time, it is but natural to expect that we cannot at-
tend to both halves. Such is the case. When two dif-
ferent smells are received, one from each organ, we are
driven to notice first one, then the other. When
roses and water-lilies are both present we smell the
combination of both ; but when a rose is placed in one
paper tube and a water-lily in another and the tubes are
Smell and Taste.
127
so arranged that the odors get to separate nostrils
without mixing, we do not smell a combination, but
alternately either rose or water-lily. We can smell either
one in preference to the other by simply thinking about
it. It is a very curious fact that we are unable to think
of the same odor
steadily; our thoughts
irresistibly turn from
one to the other and
thus the smells alter-
nate.
Such experiments
are possible to every
one by use of paper
cones. A sheet of
paper is rolled into
the shape of a candy-
horn ; the small end
is trimmed off to fit the nostril,
before the large end (Fig. 72)
Fig. 72. Alternation of Odors ; or the
Strife of the Two Nostrils.
The flower is placed
Odorous substances
(perfumes) placed in bottles under the large ends can
be compared in a similar manner.
The greater attention paid to sight and hearing has
apparently caused a neglect of smell and a consequent
deterioration. The acuteness of smell among animals is
well known. Among certain persons this sense also at-
tains great development. I have a case — reported by a
perfectly competent witness who lived for years with the
person mentioned — of a woman in charge of a boarding
school who always sorted the boys' linen, after the wash,
by the odors alone.
For the tastes we are much better off than for the
smells ; we have names for them. We say that some-
Experiment.
Dullness and
acuteness of
smell.
Names for
tastes.
128
Thinkiiig, Feeling, Doiiig.
Flavors due to
smell.
Loss of smell.
Flavor of
wines.
thing is "sour," that it is "sweet," etc., and do not
need to name the taste after the object.
The great diversity of flavors of objects is due mainly
to smell. When a cold in the head injures the ability to
smell, the flavors of the dinner-table lose their value.
Experiments on taste without smell can be made by
filling the nose cavity with water while the head is in an
inverted position ; simply holding the nose without
breathing is almost as good.
When the sense of smell is entirely lost the ordinary
flavoring syrups, such as vanilla, currant, orange, straw-
berry, and raspberry, give merely a sweetish taste with no
distinction among them. Lemon syrup tastes sweet and
sour. Candies flavored in this way taste alike. Mustard
and pepper produce sharp sensations on the tongue ;
there is no difference between them except that pepper
is sharper ; neither produces a real taste. Tea does not
differ from water or coflee, Rhine wine from diluted vin-
egar. Ginger and cloves are alike. Powdered cinnamon,
when placed on the tongue of a person whose eyes are
closed and whose nose is held between the fingers, is
considered to be like meal.
Wines owe their bouquet entirely to smell. The most
exquisite Schloss Johannisberger does not differ from
diluted vinegar as far as taste goes. The wines of East-
ern Prussia are reputed to be at present good for nothing
but to make vinegar, whereas in olden times they were
considered good. This has been used as an argument to
prove that the climate has changed ; a much simpler ex-
planation is that the early Prussians, owing to defective
development of the sense of smell, did not know the dif-
ferences among good wine, poor wine, and vinegar.
Coffee likewise owes its flavor to smell. Boiled coflee
Smell and Taste, 129
has lost its aroma and is merely a combination of sour ,
■' _ Aromas.
and bitter. Through unpardonable stupidity pepper is
always served ground and consequently odorless, the
little German pepper-mills being unknown in America.
■iTiT-i 11 11 1 11 Classification
When all smells and touch and temperature sensa- of tastes.
tions are gotten rid of, the things we taste can be sorted
into six different classes : sour, sweet, salt, bitter, metal-
lic, alkaline, and their combinations. Characteristic ex-
amples of these are found in lemon juice, sugar, salt,
quinine, zinc, and washing soda.
This does not mean that we experience only those six
r^-, 1 , - . - . Combination of
tastes. Ine elementary tastes can be combmed m tastes.
countless ways. Thus, sweet and sour when combined
produce a result that is neither sweet nor sour, but dif-
ferent from either while resembling both. Unfortunately
psychologists have not attempted to unravel the com-
pound tastes into their elements.
Probably no more convenient or striking illustration Threshold,
of the threshold can be presented than in experiments on
taste.
The threshold for sweetness can be found by using- a ^^ u ^ r
■' ^ Threshold of
solution of sugar of known strength. An ounce of sweetness.
sugar dissolved in twenty ounces of water makes a five
per cent solution. For simple illustration it is sufficient
to place a spoonful of sugar in a small wine-glass of
water. Some pure drinking water and two medicine
droppers are to be provided.
A small glass is used, preferably a graduated med-
icine glass, containing one ounce of pure water. With
one of the droppers a quantity of the sugar solution is
taken up ; one drop is allowed to fall into the water.
The water is then stirred with the other dropper ; a
small quantity is taken up in it and one drop of this
i,30
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Other
thresholds.
Intensity de-
pendent on
quantity.
Intensification
of one taste by
another.
homeopathic solution is allowed to fall on the tongue of
the person tested. He will not taste anything, owing to
the extreme dilution. The experiment is repeated, add-
ing one drop each time, till a taste is noticed. The num-
ber of drops used will indicate the threshold of taste.
If the five per cent solution and a graduated glass have
been used, it is an easy matter to calculate just how
strong this least noticeable taste is.
Similar experiments can be made with salt, quinine,
acid, and alkali. The most convenient solutions to use
are sugar, 5 per cent ; quinine, 0.002 per cent ; tartaric
acid, o. 5 per cent ; salt, 2 per cent ; sodium carbonate,
o. I per cent.
To avoid the effect of suggestion it is advisable to
have more than one solution ready and not to let the
person tested know which is being used.
How far the education of the sense of smell can be car-
ried is shown by the tea-tasters, who can tell the locality
from which each chest of tea comes.
Our appreciation of a taste depends on its quantity.
A single drop of sugar solution on the tongue does not
seem so sweet as a mouthful.
It is a very curious fact that a weak sensation of taste
of one kind can be made to strengthen a taste of another
kind. If two glasses of water be equally sweetened,
one of them can be made to appear sweeter by
adding a minute quantity of quinine powder. This is a
fact which the cook must not make use of The only
other similar case that I know of occurs in hearing.
Some partially deaf persons can hear much better in the
midst of a noise. This is usually explained on purely
physiological grounds, but there is a possibility of an ex-
planation on the ground that the mind would naturally
Smell and Taste. 131
lump in a very weak sensation of any kind with the
stronger one.
Some of the pecuHarities of flavors are due to feeHngs Taste with
of touch on the tongue. Soda water and champagne ^°^^^-
stimulate the tongue by the fine bubbles that they give
ofl". Pepper and mustard produce an agreeable irrita-
tion. Puckery substances, such as raw quinces, act as
the name implies. All such touch sensations are not
tastes, although they and the smells enter into the flavors
of things.
Sour tastes are accompanied by touch. This can be
brought out clearly in a series of experiments. We be- toS.^^^ ^"
gin with a very weak solution of the acid, so weak that
it seems like water when tasted. As it is made a trifle
stronger, first a slight puckery feeling appears, even be-
fore the person experimented upon notices any sourness.
By a little increase in the strength the sour taste is made
to appear also. When the sour taste becomes very
strong, a burning sensation is felt at the same time.
When we begin with a weak solution of salt and Saltiness and
make it successively stronger, the taste appears first.
Later a weak, burning sensation is felt ; this steadily
increases but never overpowers the taste as in the case
of sour things.
With a solution of sugar made steadily stronger a sweetness and
feeling of softness appears before the taste. Then the
taste is most prominent. With a very strong solution
we get the feelings of slipperiness and stickiness, as in
honey and syrup. With saccharine (an intensely sweet
substance) the touch sensations are present but not so
prominent.
With bitter solutions made successively stronger, a Bitterness and
fatty, smooth sensation appears before the taste. There- '°"^^-
132 Thinking, Feeli^ig, Doing.
after the bitterness is most prominent. With pure
quinine the bitterness o\'erpowers e^'erything, no matter
how strong the solution. With quinine sulphate or
chloride the very strong solutions are more or less burn-
ing.
Taste and It is a curious but Uninvestigated fact that tempera-
temperature. ,., . 1 . n
ture likewise has an mnuence.
Let equal quantities of water be placed in two tin
cups, and let one cup be heated. Then if the same
quantity of lemon juice or any sour solution be
dropped into each, the warmer solution will taste sourer
than the cooler one.
If a sweet solution be tried in the same way, the
cooler solution will be the sweeter.
Now we can understand why housewives do not
sweeten the rhubarb sauce till it is cool. If they
sweeten it to taste while cooking, the acid taste will
be stronger and much sugar will be required ; when
served cool on the table it will be too sweet.
i
CHAPTER XI.
HEARING.
Among the many sounds that we hear we generally ^^^^^^ ^^^
make a classification into tones and noises. Pleasant noises,
sounds, like those of a flute, we call tones ; unpleasant
ones, like those of escaping steam, rumbling wagons, or
screeching parrots, we call noises. This is only a con-
venient way of sorting sounds. Very many — if not
most — sounds are either tones or noises according to the
point of view. A jumble of piano-tones is a noise.
The scraping of a violin produces a noise in the hands
of a beginner and passes gradually from noise to tone as
skill is acquired. A block of hard wood when struck
makes a noise ; yet we call the same sound a tone when
the block of wood is one of the notes of a xylophone.
In a simple tone three properties are to be noticed : properties of
(i) pitch, (2) intensity, (3) duration.
As the finger is slid up or down the violin string, we
hear changes in the pitch of the tone. As the bow is
drawn harder or softer against the string, we hear
changes in the intensity, or loudness. As the tone is
continued for a longer or a shorter time, we hear changes
in duration.
We are so accustomed to saying that tones are
' ' high " or " low, ' ' that there seems to be really some-
thing high or low about them. We might, however,
just as well call the bass tones high. This naming of
Pitch, intensity
duration.
High " and
low " pitch.
134
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Extending the
range of pitch.
Lowest tone.
the tones according to our notions of space is derived
from the Middle Ages. The old Sanskrit terms meant
' ' loud ' ' and ' ' soft ' ' ; the Hebrew was ' ' audible ' ' and
' * deep ' ' ; the Greek was ' ' low ' ' and ' ' high ' ' in ex-
actly the opposite meaning to ours. The Latin was
simply a translation of the Greek words for ' ' acute ' '
and ' ' grave ' ' ; and the modern Romance languages,
like the French, retain the Latin terms. In the Middle
Ages it was customary to speak of ascending and de-
scending ; it is from this that German and English prob-
ably derive the highness and lowness of tones.
Starting from the middle of
the piano, run the scale down
toward the left. The lowest tone
is very deep and shaky. Start-
ing again, run the scale up to the
right. The high tones sound shrill
and tinkling. What would happen
if the piano received lower and
lower tones, or higher and higher
tones, going on as long as we
pleased ?
To produce tones lower than the
tones of the musical instruments
gigantic tuning-forks over a yard
long have been made. The way
tuning-forks vibrate has been ex-
plained on page 104. The prongs
are furnished with weights. As the
weights are moved toward the ends
the tone sinks lower and lower. In
a short time weak puffs are heard in
addition to the tone, each puff corresponding to a single
Fig. 73. Giant Fork for
Finding the Lowest
Audible Tone.
Hearing.
135
movement of the prongs. Finally the tone disappears
entirely, leaving nothing but puffs. The point at which
the tone disappears is called the lower limit of pitch, or
the threshold of pitch.
This lower limit is different for different persons
It
• 1 1
is generally at about twelve com-
plete vibrations per second. Some
persons, however, have been
found who cannot hear even the
lower tones of the piano. Even
the lowest tone of a large organ
at thirty-two vibrations per second
seems to some persons to be wavy.
Going upward in the scale we
can proceed far beyond the piano.
The test can be made with a set
of small tuning-forks or small steel
bars. It is most conveniently
done with the Galton whistle (Fig.
74). This whistle can be altered
in length by a screw-cap. As it
is made shorter the tone rises. By
means of a scale marked on the
barrel the pitch of the tone can be
calculated.
The highest audible tone has
been found to be \'ery different for
different persons. To some per-
sons even the highest tones of the piano are silent.
Others again can hear even up to 60,000 vibrations or
more per second. The position of such a high tone
would be musically indicated by the notation given in
the margin.
Fig. 74. Too Shrill for Hear-
ing. Whistle for Determin-
ing the Highest Audible
Tone.
Test for the
hifi-hest tone.
-I—
136 Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Robert Franz, the composer of the music to Burns' s
" My Highland Lassie," in 1842 lost all the tones from
E^ upward in consequence of the whistle of a locomotive.
In the following years he lost two half-tones more, so
that in 1864 he heard nothing above Dl*
The sound of a cricket is not heard by some persons.
I cannot hear the squeak of a bat but believe, on author-
ity, that it does make a sound. Many people cannot
hear the shrill squeak of a mouse. When singing mice
are exhibited, some people who go to hear them declare
that they can hear nothing, others can hear barely some-
thing, and others again can hear much.
It has also been noticed that as a person grows older
Effect of age. ^^ loscs his powcr of hearing high tones. The persons
themselves are quite unconscious of their deficiency so
long as their ability to hear low tones remains unim-
paired. It is an amusing experiment to test a party of
persons of various ages, including some rather elderly
and self-satisfied personages. They are indignant at
being thought deficient in the power of hearing, yet the
experiment quickly shows that they are absolutely deaf
to shrill notes which the younger persons hear acutely,
and they commonly betray much dislike to the discovery.
Such persons should be comforted by the fact that every
one has his limit. Sensitive flames have been found to
be powerfully affected by vibrations that are too rapid
for ordinary ears.
Limited range ^^ somc pcrsous the uppcr limit of pitch is very low.
of high tones, j^ -^ related of Mr. Cowles, an American journalist,
" The reader is reminded that the successive octaves of the
scale are indicated by small figures. Thus C-2, C-i, 0°, C^, C2,
etc., indicate the successive C's of the scale ; Ci is middle C.
The other notes are treated likewise.
Hearing. 137
that it was not until he was twenty-five years of age that
he became perfectly cognizant of his defect. Up to this
time he had treated all he read about the songs of birds as
nothing more or less than poetical fiction. To him birds
were perfectly mute ; and he was perfectly deaf to the
shrillest and highest notes of the piano, fife, or other
musical instruments. At length, after considerable
pains, he was convinced that he labored under some de-
fect of hearing. When put to the test in a room where
a large number of canary birds were singing very loudly,
he declared he could not hear the slightest sound, even
when placed close to their cages. Moreover, it was
found that all the sibilant sounds of the human voice
were equally inaudible. In all other respects his hear-
ing was perfect.
It is an interesting matter of speculation to consider Matters for
all the tones we might still hear if our range of pitch speculation,
extended higher. As a consolation we may remember
what shrill sounds we now escape.
The question arises : When the whistle is too high for
some persons to hear but not too high for others, does it
produce tones ? This I will leave as a nut to crack ;
" much can be said on both sides."
Galton, the inventor of the whistle, relates that he has Highest tone for
gone through the whole of the Zoological Gardens,
using a cane with a whistle at one end and a bulb at the
other. He held it near the ears of the animals and
when they were quite accustomed to the cane he would
blow the whistle. Then if they pricked their ears it showed
that they heard the whistle; if they did not it was probably
inaudible to them. Of all creatures he found none su-
perior to cats in hearing shrill sounds ; cats, of course,
have to deal with mice and find them out by their squeal-
animals.
Thinkijig^ Feelings Doing.
Influence of
intensity.
Pitch is
continuous.
ing. A cat that is at a very considerable distance can be
made to turn its ear around by sounding a note that is
inaudible to almost any human ear. Small dogs also
hear very shrill notes, but large ones do not. At Bern,
where there appear to be more large dogs lying idly about
the streets than in any other large town in Europe,
Galton tried his cane-whistle on them for hours together
but could not find one that heard it. Nearly all the lit-
tle dogs he met would turn around.
Curiously eno\(igh the height to which we can hear
depends on the
strength of the
sound. The results
of specially made
experiments are
shown in Fig. 75.
The figures at the
bottom indicate the
relative intensities
of the blast of the
whistle ; thus the
strongest tone used,
250, was five times
as strong as 50, the
weakest one. The
figures at the left
indicate the pitch of the highest audible tone for six dif-
ferent persons. At 50 for the person (F) the tone was
lost at 10,000 vibrations, all above that being unheard.
At 100 he heard to about 20,000 ; at 150 to 27,000, etc.
Between the upper and lower limits of pitch the tones
do not advance by steps as in the piano but continu-
ously as in tuning a violin string. In other words, there
Fig. 75. The Highest Audible Tone as De-
pendent on Intensity.
Hearing.
139
is an unbroken range of tone, except in a few defective
ears where portions of this range are lacking.
What is the least difference in pitch that can be
noticed ? Suppose that a violin is being tuned to an-
other one or to a pitch-pipe, how nearly can we get it
to an exact match? The fact that some persons cannot
match tones as well as others is made plain by a few
trials.
We wish, however, to get a measurement of the ex-
actness to which we can judge tones, or, in other words,
the accuracy with which differences between tones can be
detected. This can be done by comparing a tuning-fork
carrying an adjustable weight with one that remains al-
ways the same. As the weight is moved toward the
ends of the prongs, the tone is lowered ; as it is moved
toward the stem, it is raised.
Such a pair of forks is
shown in Fig. 76.
The standard fork makes
the same sound as the
weighted fork when the
weights are in the middle
at o. The standard fork
is first sounded. Then af-
ter about three seconds the
other is sounded. The per-
son hearing them says at
once whether he can detect
a difference in pitch or not. ^ig. 76. Forks of Adjustahie pitch for
r Finding the Least Noticeable
If he says. No, the weights Difference,
are moved a short distance toward the stem and the
experiment is repeated. This is continued till he de-
tects a difference, whereby the weighted fork is higher
Least notice-
able difference
in pitch, or
threshold of
difference.
Apparatus
therefor.
Making the
experiment.
140 Thinkings Feelmg^ Doing.
than the standard. This difference is called the least
noticeable difference, or the threshold of difference.
Instead of a fork with adjustable weights a series of
Another way of slightly differing forks can be used. To prepare such a
experimenting. . , .. • r 1 11 n
series a dozen or more common tunmg-lorks all alike are
obtained. The pitch of a fork can be raised by slightly
filing the ends of the prongs ; it can be lowered by filing
the prongs near the stem. Select one of the forks as the
standard. Strike the standard and another fork at the
same time, making them sound more loudly by resting
them on the table or holding them opposite the two ears.
If they are in the proper condition a single smooth tone
will be heard. Now with a file slightly scrape the ends of
the two prongs of the second fork, and sound them again.
Tuning the If the filing has been sufficient, the sound now heard will
^'^ ^' not be smooth and even, but will appear to wave between
weak and loud ; often the forks will appear to say, ' ' wow-
u-wow-u-wow-u," etc. This peculiar effect is called a
beat. It is known that the number of beats in one sec-
ond is the same as the difference in the number of vibra-
tions in one second. By counting the beats for four or
five seconds the difference between the two forks can
be readily determined. If the second fork is too
high in pitch, it is filed more at the ends ; if it is too low,
it is filed more at the stem. In this manner a whole set
of forks can be obtained, differing by slight steps. For
example, a convenient set is that of A^ "435 as a stand-
ard, with the other forks 436, 437, etc., as far as one has
a mind to go. The preparation of such a series is some-
what laborious and, to fulfil all requirements, is some-
what expensive, owing to the large number of forks
needed to provide for all ears from the finest to the coars-
est. When the series is complete, the standard is com-
Hearing.
141
pared with each in succession in the same way as with
the adjustable fork until the just noticeably different fork
is found.
Just as the threshold of difference is determined for Extension of
a rise in pitch, so there is a threshold for a fall in pitch. ^ expenmen .
The weights are started at the points where the two forks
give the same tone. In successive experiments the
weights are moved toward the prongs so that the tone
of the weighted fork is repeatedly lowered. Finally the
difference becomes noticeable. This is the point at the
threshold of difference downward in pitch.
As there is some difficulty in finding out just what the The tone-tester,
pitch of the fork is for each position of the weights, and
Fig. 77. The Tone-tester.
as the performance of these experiments takes a great
deal of time, a more convenient instrument, called a
tone-tester, has been devised. It consists of an adjust-
able pitch-pipe B fastened to a plate A. To the regu-
142
Thinking, Feeling, Dohig.
Its use.
Experiments on
school children.
lating rod C a long arm D is fastened, which is moved
by the handle E. As C is moved inward, the tone of the
pitch-pipe rises. As it is moved outward, the tone falls.
Each movement makes a change in the position of the
pointer. The tone-tester is com.pared beforehand with
a carefully tuned piano to determine the position of the
pointer when the pipe gives A of concert pitch. This
position is marked at A 435 in the illustration. The
figures mean that at this point the whistle makes a tone of
435 vibrations per second. In the same manner the suc-
ceeding notes are settled. The spaces are then subdi-
vided by the eye into thirty-seconds of a tone.
To make the experiment, the pointer is placed at A
and the pipe is blown for an instant. The pointer is then
moved upward one mark, and after about two seconds
the pipe is again sounded. The person experimented
upon tells if he hears a difference. The experiment is
repeated, starting
with A every time,
till a difference is
heard. In a similar
manner the differ-
ence below A is
found.
In experiments
made on a number of
New Haven school
children the accu-
racy in detecting
differences was
found to increase
with age. The re-
sults are shown in Fig. 78. The distance along the bot-
Fig. 78. Error in Hearing Decreases with Age
from 6 years (at the left) to 19 years
(at the right).
Hearing. 1 43
torn indicates the age, beginning at six and ending at
nineteen. The distance upward indicates the number of
thirty-seconds of a tone that could be detected. The
smaller the number, the lower the irregular line and the
more acute the child's ear.
There is another and perhaps more important threshold Threshold of
to be found than the threshold of difference, namely, the ^ ^"^^'
threshold of change. Almost all the experiments of
psychologists have been confined to the threshold of dif-
ference ; I have lately called attention to this threshold
of change and to the fact that it is an entirely different
thing from the other.
The threshold of change can be illustrated by starting
the tone at A and raising or lowering it continuously
till a difference is noticed. I have succeeded in proving
that the least perceptible change varies with the rate, as
in temperature (p. 120), but have not been able to accu-
rately determine the relation.
These experiments give the thresholds only for A = ^anbe
435. For the neighboring tones the pointer is started an^tolle^^ ^°^
in the positions marked on the scale. For more distant
tones other pitch-pipes would be needed.
There is another mental fact closely related to the ,
•' _ _ Accuracy of
tone-threshold but not quite identical with it, namely, tone-judgment.
the accuracy of tone-judgment. Suppose we have two
forks almost but not quite alike in pitch. If we sound
them in succession, we sometimes detect the difference,
sometimes not. It is evident that for the same pair of
forks the sharper ear will detect the difference more fre-
quently than the duller ear.
The experiment is performed in the following way. ^akino- the
Three forks are provided ; tw^o of them are exactly experiment,
alike, the third is slightly different. The person tested
144
Thinkmg, Feeliyig, Doing.
Results.
Extreme cases.
is seated with his back to the experimenter. The ex-
perimenter strikes two forks in succession ; the person
tested says at once whether they are the same or differ-
ent. Suppose he says, Different ; if they were really dif-
ferent the experimenter records one right answer. Sup-
pose he says, Same ; if they were really different the ex-
perimenter records one wrong answer. No record is made
of the experiments with the two forks that are really the
same, as they are introduced merely to avoid prejudice
on the part of the person experimented upon. The ex-
perimenter finally counts up the total number of experi-
ments with the two really different forks and the number
of correct answers to these forks. For example, if
there were twenty-five experiments in which the different
forks were used and fifteen correct answers, the accuracy
of judging this particular tone-difference can be stated
for this particular person as if, or 60 per cent. With a
greater difference between the two tones the percentage
of correct answers will, of course, be greater. By using
the same difference the relative accuracy for different
persons can be ascertained.
The threshold differs greatly for different persons.
Fine ears have been found that will detect a difference
of less than half a vibration in tones between B'^ = 120
and B" = 1,000. Such observers can distinguish over
1,200 different tones within the octave B^ to B-.
On the other hand, it is not uncommon to meet per-
sons who can hardly distinguish two neighboring tones.
In fact, one case is reported of a well-educated man who
had been unable to learn music in any way. It was
found that he could not tell the difference between any
two neighboring tones of the piano. Between the low-
est tone and the highest he found a very great difference,
Hearing.
145
but when the scale was run from one end to the other
the change of tone appeared continuous and not by
steps. In the middle regions of the scale he could not
tell apart tones forming an interval less than a third ; in
the upper and lower regions the interval had to be a
septime, an octave, or sometimes something still greater.
If a low tone be sounded, then a medium one, and
then a high one, we can tell whether the middle one is
half way between the two extremes or not. Musical in-
Finding the
middle tone.
Fig. 79. Apparatus for Finding the Middle Tone.
struments cannot well be used for this experiment as
their tones are not simple but very complex ; they intro-
duce great errors into the result. By using tuning-forks
perfectly pure tones are obtainable.
The arrangement for this experiment is shown in Fig. Apparatus.
79. Three tuning-forks, i, 2, 3, are placed before ad-
justable boxes, or resonators, I., II., III. From each
resonator a rubber tube leads to a general tube s which
runs through double walls _i 1 whitish colors.
who use pamts. it can be proven by use 01 the color-
158
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Shades are
weaker colors.
top. Place together the red disk and the white one
with almost no white showing ; the resulting color is
red. Add more white ; the resulting color is a red tint.
Add more and more white ; the red passes through suc-
cessively lighter tints till pure white is reached. The
same is true of the other hues. Tints are mixtures of
colors with white.
The shades are
weaker colors. Hold
red and a shade of
red squarely to the
light. Keeping the
shade in full light,
gradually turn the red
away so that it grows
darker. At a certain
degree of darkness it
will match the shade.
Place a red and a
black disk on the
color-top and grad-
ually change their
proportions. The red
passes through all
shades into black.
Since black is absence
of light, the red is
simply decreased in
intensity.
With the top you
can illustrate the fact that between a bright red and
black, or between a bright red and white, there are
countless intermediate shades and tints.
Fiof. 88. The Color-cone.
Color
159
Relation of
colors to black.
In our scheme of colors we have white and black, but
no grays. If you take the color-cone in Fig. 88 and grad-
ually cut off the light, the whole collection of colors be-
comes dimmer and dimmer till all, even the white, pass
into black. In a dense night all colors are black.
Hold a piece of white paper squarely to the light ; then
gradually turn it away. It becomes darker and darker,
grayer and grayer. Gray is, therefore, only darker
white.
Take the same piece of paper into the sunlight. It is
much whiter than before. What we thought was white
was only a gray after all. Lay the paper on new-fallen
snow. Alas ! our whitest paper is a sorry gray when
compared with God's white.
The brightest and purest white is the light of the sun Absolute white
at noon on a clear day. All other whites are grays. We
What is gray ?
What is white ?
White.
Lieht Gray.
Medium Gray.
Dark Gray.
Black.
Fig. S9. The Grays.
can therefore stretch a line from the whitest white to the
blackest black and hang all the grays in between. Since
the set is continuous and unbroken we will call it the set
of grays, having white as the whitest gray and black as
the blackest gray.
If we put a black and a white disk together on the
color-top, we can imitate most of the grays by changing
the proportions of the two. Of course, we cannot come
an^-Avhere near true white or true blackness.
What is known as the ' ' absolute ' ' white is the light standard white.
of the sun at midday in a perfectly clear sky. The
' ' standard ' ' white for practical use is the color of mag-
nesium oxide held in such sunlig-ht ; it is whiter than snow.
i6o
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Colored grays.
The brightest
colors in nature.
To produce the standard white take a piece of glass or
mica and hold it over burning magnesium tape. Your
friend the photographer is familiar with this process.
His flash-light is almost as good as the magnesium tape.
It is a good thing to keep such a standard of white ;
by comparison you will find that many white objects are
tinged with red, yellow, blue, etc.
The line of grays passes through the middle of the
color-cone from W to D.
If we mix the colors with gray we get colored grays.
This is readily done by using
three disks on the color-top,
a color, black, and white. Thus,
red mixed with different pro-
portions of black and white
gives reddish grays, or, as* our
bric-a-brac friends would say,
shades of terra-cotta. By using
orange, we get the orange grays,
or browns.
The brightest hues to be
found in nature are produced
by allowing a ray of sunlight
to fall on a spectrum-grating.
This grating consists of a num-
ber of fine lines, 40,000 or more
to the inch, carefully ruled on
glass or metal. When a ray
Fig. 90. Spectrum from a Grating, ^f g^nlight falls OU this grat-
ing, it is spread out as a band of color. By looking
at the grating directly, the colors are seen without any
contamination by reflection from objects. The band be-
gins with violet and passes through all the colors of the
Color. i6i
rainbow to red. After the red comes the violet again,
followed by the whole succession up to blue. After the
orange comes purple, followed by blue, and so on. The
band of color really consists of a series of rainbows ; the
second and third overlap so that violet and red make
purple ; the third and fourth overlap still more, and so on.
The standards of color are found in the series from
red to violet and in the purple. The standard colors standards of
from red to violet are also produced when a prism of
glass is placed in a ray of sunlight. The colors from red
to violet are called the spectrum colors. For the sake
of convenience we sometimes add purple.
Nature uses the raindrops like prisms to form the rain- Nature's
bow. We may call the spectrum colors rainbow colors, ^p^'^^™'"-
but must remember that the great amount of white light
in the sky mixes some white with them.
A moderately fair idea of some of the rainbow colors Artificial colors.
can be gotten from colored objects.
There is no pure red pigment in common use. The Red.
common idea of red is an orange red like vermilion. A
very fair red may be obtained by mixing the pigments
crimson-lake and vermilion. The deep ruby of the photog-
rapher' s lantern is a very pure red. The red browns
represent the shades of red. The common poppy is a
beautiful red.
Orange-peel is a very fair representative of orange. Orange.
Red lead is orange with a slight mixture of red. Saffron
is also a very fair orange. The shades of orange form
the orange browns. The glow of a coal fire exhibits
very fairly all the tints and shades of orange. The nas-
turtium is a characteristic orange.
An excellent example of yellow is found in pale chrome, yellow.
Sulphur is a whitish yellow. Tan is a case of the yel-
l62
Thinking, Feeling, Doi7ig.
Green.
Blue.
Violet.
The flower
spectrum.
low browns. The dandelion furnishes a good yellow ;
the buttercup is a whitish yellow.
Green is represented by the emerald green among
paints. The greens of plants hardly approach the pure
green. Apple leaves are nearly of the same hue, but they
are much darker. Some of the greens in the plumage of
tropical birds, especially of the parakeets, are a near ap-
proach to the standard green.
Blue is represented by cyan-blue (Berlin blue) and
ultramarine. A peacock' s neck toward sunset is a very
pure blue. As its flower we may choose the centaurea.
One of the best examples of a pure violet is the color
of the flower of some varieties of lobelia. The best time
to see a pure violet is toward sunset. At this time the
light from the sun is mostly violet, the red and other
rays being weak.
In the spectrum thrown by the sunlight we find a
great number of fine lines. The most prominent lines
have received letter-names ; thus, the two heavy lines
close together in the yellow are called the D-lines.
These lines are useful in defining the limits of groups of
colors. Orange passes continuously through interme-
diate hues of orange and yellow into yellow ; where
shall we draw the line between orange and yellow?
Helmholtz proposes the following system : red, all colors
from the end to line C ; orange, C to D ; yellow, first
quarter of the distance D to E ; greenish yellow, from
yellow to E ; green, E to b ; bluish green, b to F ; blue,
F to G ; violet, G to end.
Some of my fair readers may like to have a spectrum
in the garden or on the flower-stand. For their special
benefit I give a list of flowers for colors not too widely
distant from the spectrum series.
Color.
i6-
THE FLOWER SPECTRUM.
Red.
Orange.
Yellow.
Green.
Poppy,
Nasturtium,
Dandelion,
Jack-in-the-Pulpit,
Cardinal Flower,
Chrvsanthem
um, Lemon Lilv,
Star of Bethlehem,
Tulip,
Tulip,
Tulip,
Cvpripedium,
Celosia,
Azalea,
Primrose,
Cobia,
Geranium,
Marigold,
Marigold,
[Hydrangea],
[Mignonette].
Salvia.
Escholtzia.
Nasturtium.
Blue.
Violet.
Purple.
Larkspur,
Heliotrope,
Sweet Pea,
Cornflower
Pansy,
Aster,
Forget -Me
-'Xot,
Hyacinth,
Pansv,
Lobelia,
Crocus,
Phlok.
Flax,
Verbena,
Centaurea.
Stocks.
It is to be hoped that no interference with the rational Monstrosities
^ _ in color-names.
system of naming colors will be allowed. In order to
sell new wares the manufacturers are accustomed to in-
vent new names for the colors, changing several of them
everv year. Some of the monstrosities thus perpetrated
are "cadet blue," " crushed strawberry, " "baby blue,"
"zulu," "ashes of roses," "elephant's breath,"
"calves' liver," "cerise," "gluten," "toreador,"
"eiffel," etc. I leave it to my readers to guess what
the names mean.
There is probably no more fascinating department of Combination of
mental science than the study of the combination of
colors. Newton was one of the first to show that the
colors we see and their combinations have no counterpart
in the physical world. As Maxwell states it, the science
of color is a mental science. The little color-top puts into
the hands of every one the power to make experiments
on the most important laws of color combination.
The first experiment is that of matching colors.
Spread a piece of colored cambric on the table. Put a
couple of the colored disks on your top and spin it on
the cambric. Change the proportions till the top
matches the cambric.
Now, note the number of hundredths of each color
Matching
colors.
,164
Thinkings Feeli7ig, Doing.
A color
equation.
Practical
applications.
Fundamental
color equations.
shown on the top. Let x denote the color of the cam-
bric and R, O, D, and W the colors of the disk you have
used, D denoting black. Suppose you have 30 R, 45 O,
5 D, 20 W; then, since the cloth covers a whole circle,
100^ r= 30 R 4- 45 O + 5 D + 20 W.
How convenient for the forgetful business man !
Madam wants a certain kind of brown trimming just like
her piano-cover. She could pick out the right one by
going to the store herself; she knows her husband will
be sure to select wrongly, yet she cannot send a sample.
So she spins the little top on the goods and adjusts the
disks till she gets the proper brown. Now the man can
put the top in his pocket and spin it on the store-counter
till the salesgirl hands down the right color.
Or suppose a house-painter must order a new supply
of color immediately. He matches it by his color-top
and telegraphs the result. The dealer can at once ad-
just his own top and see the color wanted.
The necessity of such a method can be seen from the
fact that the paints sold under the same name often differ
widely. An English factory will produce a color that
corresponds to 29 O + 71 Y while a German factory
will make it 35 O + 45 Y + 20 D ; and yet both colors
will be called chrome yellow.
A color equation can be found for any color in terms
of red, green, violet, white, and black. Pick up any
piece of colored paper you find and cut a circle from it
equal to the smaller disks of your top ; cut out the
center and slit it like the others. For the sake of brevity
we will speak of this disk as x; all other small disks
will be indicated by the small letters r, g, v, w, d, and
the large ones by the capitals R, G, V, W, D. Put
together the disk x and the black and white disks d and
Color. 165
w. Likewise put together the large D, W, R, G, and
V. Place the larger set on the top and then the
smaller set over them. By repeatedly changing the
proportions of the two sets of disks you can finally get
them to match almost exactly. By help of the gradu-
ated circle on the top you can estimate the proportions
of each color. For example, suppose a whole circle to
be counted as 100 and the various colors to be in the
proportion 17 R4-45G-f- 10 V+ 28 W= ^\x
-f- 46 d. Therefore, 54 .r = 17 R + 45 G + 10 V
+ 28 W - 46 ^ or ^ = H R + M G + if V + M W -
f f d, which gives a definite color equation for the color
of the paper.
The facts learned from the colored papers and the Deductions
color-top will enable us to understand the laws of com- p^rhn^rftlon
bination of colors. In considering this subject we have combination.
nothing to do with the physics of light or with the
physiology of the eye, we must confine ourselves to
mental facts just as we find them.
In the first place, between the two extremes, white
and black, we have an unbroken line of neutral grays.
Then we have a continuous line of colors according to
hue, passing from, say, green through the blues, violets,
purples, reds, oranges, yellows, back to green. Then
by decreasing the intensity of these hues we can make
each pass continuously into black, and by mixing each
with any desired degree of gray or white we can make
it pass continuously into gray or white. All of these
can be produced by combinations of a few colors.
This infinite number of colors of which we are capa- The infinity of
ble can be produced from three fundamental colors, red, produced by
- . . ,_, r 1 11' 11 combinations of
green, and violet. I he lundamental red is nearly the three funda-
-same as a red that can be found in nature ; the funda-
mental colors.
1 66
Thinking, Feeli7ig, Dohig.
The color-
triangle.
Properties of
the spectral
curve.
Green
-Aa
Red
mental green is a purer green than nature can exhibit ;
the fundamental violet is a natural color. If a beam of
sunlight is reflected from a grating, it is broken
up into a band of color like the rainbow. At one
end is a pure red
region, at the other
is a pure violet re-
gion ; these are two
fundamental colors.
The green of the
spectrum is whitish.
Since all nature re-
ceives its light from
T^^v/o/c^ the sun, the colors
V of nature are limited
Fig. 91, The Color-triangle. 111 - r
by the character oi
sunlight. With the sun we have at present and are
likely to have for the future, nature with all her colors
does not give us all the greens we are capable of ex-
periencing.
If we suppose our three fundamental colors placed at
three corners of an equal-sided triangle with white in
the center, the colors of nature would be enclosed within
the curve drawn within it.
This curve has several remarkable properties. If we
take any two colors, all the colors that can be produced
by them will lie along the line connecting them. If we
take spectral violet and spectral red, all the purples will
lie along the line BG, the position being determined by
the proportion of the two colors. If we take spectral
yellow and spectral blue, the colors produced by mixing
in various proportions will lie along the line DF, passing
almost through white. If we wish to find what colors
Color.
167
will produce white, we draw a straight line through white
in every direction. Pairs of colors that produce white Complementary
are called complementary colors. For three-color per-
sons some of the simpler combinations are given in the
table annexed. The table is taken from Helmholtz.
It holds good only approximately, because the color-
names are very indefinite ; thus, blue includes a group
of blues which when combined with various members of
the orange group give results varying more or less from
white.
TABLE OF COLORS RESULTING FROM COMBINATIONS.
Violet.
. Blue.
Blue Green.
Red.
Purple.
Light pink.
Wliite.
Orange.
Dark pink.
White.
Light yellow,
Yellow.
Light pink.
Light green.
Light green.
Yellow greeii.
White.
Light green.
Green.
Green.
Light blue.
Blue green.
Blue green.
Water blue.
Blue.
Indigo.
Green.
Yellow Green.
Yellow.
Red.
Light yellow.
Golden yellow.
Orange.
Orange.
Yellow.
Yellow.
Yellow.
Yellow green.
Yellow green.
Green.
Blue green.
Blue.
The combination of pigments, e. g., paints, often
gives a yery different result from the combination of the
colors directly. In fact, if the dyes with which two
paper disks have been colored be mixed, a paper colored
by the mixture will never be of the same color as the
resultant from a direct mixture of the colors of the two
disks by means of the color-top.
This can be prettily illustrated by a disk prepared as
in Fig. 92. The shaded portions are to be painted with
blue, the light portions with yellow, and the central por-
tion with a green formed by a mixture of half blue and
half yellow. When the disk is rotated, the blue and
Combination of
pigments.
i68
Thinkings Feeling, Doi?ig.
Reason for the
odd results in
mixing pig-
ments.
In colored
glass.
In paints.
Fig. 92. Mixing Yellow
and Blue.
yellow directly mixed never produce green but a gray-
ish color with a blue or yellow cast.
When increasing quantities of yellow paint are mixed
with blue paint, the color passes
through various shades of bluish
green, green, and yellowish green.
When yellow and blue colors are
mixed, the resulting color passes
through grayish blue, gray, and gray-
ish yellow. With some blues the
gray has a very slight greenish tinge.
The reason why blue and yellow
pigments give green can be illustrated by using blue and
yellow glass. When two such pieces of glass are placed
together, all light passing through both of them is green.
Blue glass is blue because the glass absorbs the red, or-
ange, and yellow light and allows the blue and violet light
to pass. Yellow glass absorbs the blue and violet and
allows the red, orange, and yellow to pass. Each of them
allows a portion of the green to pass. When both of
them are together, the blue keeps out the red, orange,
and yellow, while the yellow keeps out the blue and
violet. Consequently only the green gets through.
Blue paints are blue because the minute particles of
which they are composed send back to the eye mainly
colors from the blue end of the rainbow series. Yellow
paints send back mainly those from the red end. Both
send back some green. When they are mixed, the blue
paint absorbs all the red end and the yellow absorbs all
the blue end, leaving only green to be sent back.
Similar results are obtained from the other paints;
their mixtures are matters depending on their particular
composition and not on their colors. Violet, for ex-
Col07-. 169
ample, is one of the rainbow colors and cannot be pro-
duced by mixture of other colors. Yet red paint and
blue paint can be made to produce a violet paint.
These accidents of the action of paints formerly led " Colors,
people to suppose that colors followed the same laws.
Thus red, yellow, and blue were formerly called the fun-
damental colors. The artist often speaks of his paints
as his " colors," and his laws of combination of the fun-
damental " colors " are quite correct, if by " colors " we
understand paints. To avoid confusion with the other
use of the word color, it is preferable not to use it to
mean paint or pigment. Red, yellow, and blue are the
fundamental pigments, and red, green, and violet are
the fundamental colors.
CHAPTER XIII.
COLOR SENSITIVENESS.
Least notice-
able diflference
in color.
According to
age.
We are frequently called upon to distinguish small
differences in color ; how accurately can we do it ?
The color-top furnishes one method of answering the
question. Suppose we take as a definite question : How
accurately can we judge the mixture of small portions of
blue with a large mass of red ? The little red disk is placed
in the center of the top ; it remains unchanged during
the experiment. The large red and blue disks are placed
together so that a minute portion of the blue appears.
The top is spun ; no difference is detected. A little
more blue is added and the top is again spun. This is
repeated till the difference is noticed. The amount of
blue can be measured by the graduated disk. Suppose
it covers one half a space, that is, tVo of the whole circle.
The red must cover tVo, or nine times as much as the
blue. Therefore we can add one part of blue to nine of
red before the difference is detected.
The result depends upon the sensitiveness of the per-
son. A dyer will detect minute differences that escape
ordinary individuals ; persons who have paid little atten-
tion to art are often incapable of detecting large differ-
ences.
It has been proven that the sensitiveness to color dif-
ferences increases with the age of school children. The
results are given in Fig. 93. The figures at the bottom
indicate the ages ; those at the side the relative amounts
170
Color Sensitive7iess.
171
of difference that could be just detected. The greater
the difterence, the less the sensitiveness and the higher
the curve. The steady descent of the curve shows the
gain. In general, the girls were more sensitive than the
boys.
The sensitiveness depends upon the streng-th of the Dependence on
^ .... the intensity.
light. In very strong or very weak light it is much less
than in moderate light.
The color of an object depends on the color of the
SENSITIVENESS
COLOR DIFFERENCES.
/ / 7 ^ 7? »p T3 Tf 7f 7J ^
Fig. 93. Children have Finer Eyes for Color as they Grow Older.
neighboring objects. If two designs are executed in the
same gray, they will appear different if the grounds are
of different colors. If the grounds are red and yellow
respectively, one ornament will appear somewhat green
and light, the other somewhat blue and dark. The ef-
fect is increased by placing tissue paper over them. Yet
both grays are exactly alike. The color of the sur-
rounding ground affects the gray.
Bits of gray paper laid on colored paper show the same
result. If the colored paper be tipped so that the small
piece slowly slides off, the colored tinge of the gray can
be seen to slip off as the paper goes over the edge.
This influence of one color over another is called ' ' con-
The color of an
object depends
on its surround-
ings.
Contrast.
172
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
Effect of con-
trast.
Defective color-
seeing.
trast. ' ' The effect of the influence of a color is to spread
the complementary color in its neighborhood. We have
already defined as complementary those colors that give
gray when mixed. White is complementary to black.
Place a small piece of gray paper on a piece of colored
paper. When a piece of tissue paper is laid over the
whole, the gray paper appears distinctly colored. The
tissue paper is used to whiten the
colors, the contrast eflect being
greatest with whitish colors. Disks
to illustrate contrast can be pre-
pared as in Fig. 95, where the
lined portion is to be colored.
When such a disk is spun, the
ring formed by the mixture of the
Fig. 94. Disk to Illustrate black and white should be gray;
the Effect of Contrast. -^ -^^ howcvcr, the color Comple-
mentary to color on the other portion.
Plain red, violet, and blue woven cloths were on
one occasion given to manufacturers for ornamentation
with black patterns. When the goods were returned,
the complaint was made that the patterns were not black ;
those on the red cloth were plainly greenish, those on
the violet were dark greenish yellow, and those on the
blue were copper-colored. By covering the cloth in such
a way as to expose only the patterns without the colors,
they were seen to be truly black. It was an eflect of
contrast.
When we started the subject of color, we agreed to
talk for the majority and to attend to persons defective
in color-seeing afterwards. Some of you may have al-
ready been puzzled by the apparent blunders the rest of
us have been making. Let us see how we agree.
Color Se?isitweness.
173
Fig. 95. Getting the Gray
Equation.
Suppose
To measure the color-sense in different persons the
two smaller disks, w and d,
should be placed over the
larger disks, R, G, and V. The
white and black make a gray,
and the larger disks should be
adjusted to make a gray also.
A finer adjustment is obtained
by making both grays alike.
The relative proportions of
w and d may be disregarded
and gray in general may be indicated by m.
one person gets
m [= 60 ze/+40 <^] ^35 R+30 G+35 V
and another
m=: ^ R+45 G+50 V.
It is evident that the second one is much less sensitive
to red ; in fact, such a person would be called red-blind.
Roughly speaking, humanity falls into four great
classes: (i) the three-color; (2) the two-color red-blind;
(3) the two-color green-blind ; (4) the one-color persons.
The three-color persons form about ninety-five per
cent of the males and almost all the females. They are
so-called because
the colors they see
can be produced by
combinations of
three fundamental
colors, red, green,
and violet.
The two-color
persons form about five per cent of the males. The
colors they see can be formed from two fundamental
Detection of
defective
persons.
Fig. 96. Three-color Persons, Proportions of tlie
Fundamental Colors in the Spectrum Colors.
Color-
blindness.
Three-color
persons.
Two-color
persons.
174
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Red-blind
persons.
Green-blind
persons.
Comparison
with three-color
persons.
Fig. 97. Red-blind Persons. Proportions of the
Fundamental Colors in the Spectrum Colors.
colors. If these two fundamental colors are green and
violet, the person is said to be red-blind. If they are
red and violet, he is called green-blind. The violet-
blind persons are so rare as not to need notice.
To the red-blind person red objects appear in general
the same as dark green or greenish yellow ; yellow and
orange appear as
dirty green ; green
is green, but is
brighter than the
false greens.
The green-blind
person calls red a
dark yellow ; yellow
is called yellow but is lighter than the other ; and green
is called pale yellow.
The red-blind person is supposed to lack the funda- ,
mental red color. The colors he sees are all composed of
green and violet ; his color triangle (Fig. 91) shrinks up
into a line GV, and his curve of spectral colors becomes
a portion of this line.
All colors of nature
are to him mixtures
of green and violet,
gray (or white) be-
ing about the middle
of the line. All the
colors toward red
are merely variations of green ; all the purples are violets
and blues. The green-blind person lacks the green ; his
range of colors is found along the line RV, with gray in
the middle. The greens and yellows are reddish grays ;
the purples are also grays shading off into red or violet.
Fig. 98. Green-blind Persons. Proportions of the
Fundamental Colors in the Spectrum Colors.
Color Sensitiveness. 175
The one-color persons see everything in light and. One-coior
shade, presumably gray. Their world is to the world of
most people what a photograph or an engraving is to the
radiance of nature. These persons are quite rare.
One case is related of an architect's assistant who did
not understand in the least what was meant by color ; he
said that the colors appeared to him simply shades of
white and black. He had to use colors in preparing
the plans of build-
ings but was guided
bv the name on the
paint. One of the
clerks once pur-
posely scraped off
the names and he Fig. 99. One-color Persons. Proportion of the
1 1 1 Fundamental Color in the Spectrum Colors.
used the colors
wrongly. A friend of his had a house with dark oaken
timbers and light orange plaster. He asked, when look-
ing at the house, why the plaster was so much darker
than the wood. His friend told him that the plaster was
very much lighter than the wood, but he refused to
believe it. In a photograph which was afterwards taken
the plaster came out much darker than the oaken timbers.
The phenomena of color-blindness are best studied The worsted
with the color-top, but as the use of the top requires a
great expense of time a number of quicker methods have
been invented. One of the best is by use of the Holmgren
w^ools. This consists of three skeins of worsted dyed
with three standard test colors, namely, light green, pale
purple, and bright red. Other skeins of reds, oranges,
yellows, yellowish greens, pure greens, blue greens,
violets, purples, pinks, browns, and grays are used as
confusion colors.
test.
176
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Results.
Color-
weakness.
Lantern test.
Red and green
signals.
The light green skein is laid before the person tested
and he is told to pick out of the heap all colors that are like
it. Nothing more is to be said ; names of colors must
not be used. If he picks out grays, brownish grays, yel-
lows, orange, or faint pink, as the same, he is color-blind.
Now the purple skein is laid before him. If he picks out
blue or violet as the same he is red-blind ; if he selects
only gray or green he is green-blind. As a clincher, the
red skein is used. A red-blind person will match this
with dark greens or dark browns, while the green-blind
person will choose light greens or light browns. Are we
to suppose that the many Englishmen are color-blind
who can see in the Irish flag only a symbol of anarchy ?
Numerous modifications of this method of testing
have been used. The method is not always successful
when the person tested is not color-blind but codor-
weak. He may be able to pass the tests in a bright
light, and yet he cannot distinguish red and green in a
fog, or he may have perfect color- vision near by and be
color-blind for objects at a distance.
A lantern with colored glasses is sometimes employed.
A color is shown to the person tested ; he names it.
Other colors and white are shown in succession. Then
gray glasses to simulate fog are used over the colors, in
order to detect the color-weak.
The matter of color-blindness has been brought into
notice by the use of red and green lights as signals on
railways and boats. Red means "danger"; green
means ' ' all right ' ' on the railway. On the water red is
the port side of the boat, green is starboard side ; a
pilot knows which way a vessel is sailing by seeing red
or green. It is evident that any inability to distinguish
them is a source of danger.
Color SensUiveyiess. 177
blindness.
The steamship Isaac Bell colHded with the tugboat Accidents due
Lumbtrman near Noiiblk, \'irginia ; ten H\-es were lost, blindness.
The pilot of the Lumberman was aftersvards examined
and found to be color-blind ; there was a rumor that the
other pilot was also color-blind.
The pilot oi the steamer City of Austria, which was
lost in the harbor of Fernandina, Florida, was proved to
be color-blind. He mistook the buoys, and his mistake
cost the owners $200,000.
Captain Coburn reports : ' ' The steamer Neera was a case of color-
on a voyage from Liverpool to Alexandria. One night
shortly after passing Gibraltar, at about 10:30 p. m., I
went on the bridge, which was then in charge of the
third officer, and competent in every w^ay. I walked up
and down the bridge until about 11 p. m., when the
third officer and I almost simultaneously saw a light
about two points on the starboard bow. I at once saw
it was a green light, and knew that no action was called
for. To my surprise the third ofhcer called out to the
man at the wheel, 'Port,' which he was about to do,
when I countermanded the order, and told him to steady
his helm, which he did. and we passed the other steamer
safely about half a mile apart. I at once asked the
third officer why he had ported his helm to a green
light on the starboard bow ; but he insisted it was a red
light which he had first seen. I tried him repeatedly
alter this, and although he sometimes gave a correct de-
scription of the color of the light, he was as often incor-
rect, and it was evidently all guesswork. On my return
I applied to have him removed from the ship, as he was,
in my opinion, quite unfit to have charge of the deck at
night, and this application was granted. After this
occurrence. I always, when taking a strange officer to
178
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Another case.
Insufficiency
of the test by
wools.
Color-blindness
among the
Quakers.
sea, remained on the bridge with him at night until
I had tested his abiUty to distinguish colors. I cannot
imagine anything more dangerous or more Hkely ta
lead to fatal accidents than a color-blind man on a
steamer's bridge."
A similar account is given by Capt. Heasley, of Liver^
pool : "After passing through the Straits of Gibraltar,
the second officer, who had charge of the deck, gave
the order to port — much to my astonishment, for the
lights to be seen about a point on the starboard bow
were a masthead and green light; but he maintained
that it was a masthead and red, and not until both ships
were nearly abreast would he acknowledge his mistake.
I may add that during the rest of the voyage I never
saw him making the same mistake. As a practical sea-
man I consider that a great many accidents at sea arise
from color-blindness."
The following is an extract from a letter by a " thirty
years' railway man." "I have been on the railway
for thirty years and I can tell you the card tests and
wool tests are not a bit of good. Why, sir, I had a
mate that passed them all, but we had to pitch into
another train over it. He couldn't tell a red from a
green light at night in a bit of a fog."
Color-blindness is hereditary. Among the Quakers,
for example, the proportion of color-blind persons is
about one half greater than among other people.
Nearly every Quaker is descended on both sides solely
from a group of men and women who separated them-
selves from the rest of the world five or six generations
ago. One of their strongest opinions is that the fine
arts are worldly snares ; their most conspicuous practice
is to dress in drabs. A born artist would never have
Color Sensitiveness. 179
consented to separate himself from the soul-stirring ar- •
tistic productions of his fellow-men ; he would have felt
that such an action would be treason to the instincts that
God planted in him. It is quite probable that Quaker- Explanation of
ism would be very likely to attract to itself not only customs,
those who were lacking in instinct for the beautiful, but
also those actually color-blind. The productions of
many of our artists must appear actually hideous to
color-blind persons w^io cannot tell the difference in
color between a strawberry and its leaves. Again, the
desertions from Quakerism would naturally be of per-
sons in whom these instincts and abilities were stronger.
Dalton, the discoverer of color-blindness, was a Quaker.
It is related of a prominent Quaker that he returned
from town one day with a bright red tie, a perfect abom-
ination to his family. In spite of the trouble aroused, it but color-
was not a case of heresy but merely of color-blindness.
blindness.
CHAPTER XIV.
SEEING WITH ONE EYE.
The world seen
with one eye.
Point of regard.
Distinct and
indistinct
Boundaries of
the field of
vision.
Let us look at the world with only one eye. What
we see consists of patches of color arranged in wonder-
fully complicated forms. It is our duty to determine
some of the laws of this arrangement in space.
The first fact that strikes us is that we are looking at
some particular point. This is the ' ' point of regard. ' '
In looking at this dot your point of regard is the
dot. As you read onward, your point of regard changes
from one letter to another. If you look at a person on
the street, the point of regard is that person.
Keeping the eye steadily looking at the dot, notice
that you can read the words close around it al-
though they are somewhat blurred, and that, although
you can see over a whole region, including the page and
part of the room, all this region is quite indistinct. The
fairly clear part around the point of regard is the region
of distinct vision ; the blurred part is the region of in-
distinct vision. The whole region seen is called the
field of vision.
The boundaries of the field of vision are determined
by moving objects from outside the field toward it until
they are seen, and by moving them from the center
outward till they disappear. The subject of experiment
is seated in a chair ; one eye is closed, the other looks,
without moving, straight ahead at a spot. The exper-
180
Seeing with One Eye.
i8i
ooo#
imenter places a small piece of white paper on the end
of a knitting-needle or a stick and, starting behind the
subject, slowly pushes it forward at about one foot from
his head till he catches sight of it. The paper is then
started where it is seen and is drawn back till it disap-
pears. This marks the limit of vision in that direction.
The limits of the held of vision are determined and perimeter,
recorded rapidly by
means of perime-
ters. One form is
that shown in Fig.
IOC. The small
piece of paper is
moved out along
the cur^-ed arm in
one direction till the
limit is found. The
arm is placed in
various positions
and the experiment
is repeated. The
number of degrees
is read off each time Fi?- ^°'^-
and is marked on a
chart. A line drawn through these points indicates the
boundary of the field of vision. An average eye will
have a field extending outward (/. ^'''
y\/ ,,''''"/5^^Vr
^'^^^^Vr-^
\ 1
J?S 60' ^
^ y'sO' ^*'''* ^O' /y'3^^20'' ^^-^
\
V 1
'\ /
1 \ i \ \ » \ '* ,— — X^^^^
1
[ '
-^ \
1 "-- i ^x iJc\^ vv yl y
\ /,' --^ ''i
'~~~~ /
• ^r'"-,,-'--'^'''' \''\ — 7^ '' 1'
\// ^^J~Tv^
7"--^
:i<"^^>/. ^^^y^Y-r-'r
\^\
X\j /;
S^^'^-S^s^
^^S^m,
If''
7
\\A
^N^^^-~ — yt:;-::^:^
/
\'"'/^"
/ '^^^^^^^
»'*'
"\
/
Fig. loi. Perimeter Chart. Limits beyond which the colors disappear :
I, Violet; 2, Yellow; 3, Green; 4, Red; 5, Orange; 6, Blue.
Field of vision
in children.
various colors lose their ' ' true ' ' colors, i. e. , the colors
when directly seen, are indicated for a specimen person
in Fig. loi.
Curiously enough, the field of vision with children is
apparently not so great as with adults. They cannot see
over so much for any position of the eye. The *reason
Seeing with One Eye.
183
probably is that they are incapable of attending to the
outer regions ; they confine themselves to the region near
the point of regard.
In the field of vision there is one place at which
nothing is seen ; this is called the blind-spot.
With the left eye shut, hold the book at arm's length
and look with the right eye at the cross in Fig, 102.
The letters are also seen indirectly. Bring the book slowly
toward you, keeping the eye fixed on the cross. Sud-
denly the B will disappear entirely. If the book is
Blind-spot.
How to find it.
+
o
B
Fig. 102.
brought still closer the B will reappear, but the O will
disappear, leaving a blank space between A and B.
There is one portion of the field of vision on which you
are absolutely blind.
To try the left eye, hold the book upside down.
Although man and his animal ancestors have always
had blind-spots as long as they have had eyes, these
spots were not discovered till about two hundred years
ago, when Mariotte caused a great sensation by showing
people at the English court how to make royalty en-
tirely disappear.
The blind-spot can be drawn directly on paper by Howtodrawit.
keeping the eye fixed on the cross while a pencil is
moved from the circle outward till its point is just seen.
Its discovery.
1 84
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Its size.
What is seen at
the blind-spot.
Puzzling the
blind-spot.
In this way a dotted boundary line for the spot is ob-
tained.
The bhnd-spot ordinarily covers a region equal to the
face of a man seven feet distant, or eleven times the size
of the full moon.
What do you see at the blind-spot ? Everything dis-
appears that is put in the region covered by it. Yet
there must be something there ; for, if the O in Fig.
1 02 be made to disappear, the letters are no nearer to-
gether than when the circle is seen.
The blind-spot must be seen as white, for the whole
region appears unbroken. Yet if this experiment is
made on colored paper the whole region is of the same
color. Papers or cards of various colors can be readily
prepared to illustrate this. We are thus forced to the
conclusion that although we are blind over this region,
we fill out the lacking space by an unconscious act of
imagination and that it is filled out in accordance with
the surrounding region.
Let us, however, try to puzzle the blind-spot. A
card is prepared with colors as shown in Fig. 103. Let
Fig. 103. Putting a White Circle on
the Blind-Spot.
Fig. 104. The Circle is Replaced by
the Colors.
the white circle fall on the blind-spot. The card will ap-
pear as in Fig. 104.
Try a card colored as in Fig. 105. If the circle falls on
the blind-spot it will be filled out as in Fig. 106.
Seeing with One Eye.
185
What will happen
now?
Now try a card like Fig. 107, with the circle brought
into the blind region. At last the spot is puzzled. One
moment the blue band will run across the red one ; at an-
other the red will run across the blue. Sometimes after
many trials the spot seems to
despair and the person owning it
declares that he really sees noth-
ing there.
In looking at a printed page
the portion that falls on the
blind-spot appears to be printed
with indistinct letters, as though
it were pretending to read.
It is noteworthy that the space
around the blind-spot is not con-
tracted. If the circle in Fig. 102
falls on the blind-spot, the letters
A and B are no nearer together,
although quite a space has ap-
parently been removed.
Up to this point nothing has
been said of motion in con-
nection with vision. We can
move our point of regard at will.
Indeed, the point of regard cannot be kept steadily on
any object. Try to look steadily at the white dot in Fig.
109. You will soon see the edges of the white circle
blurred over by the black edges. The point of regard
trembles and sways like the pointer described on page
74. Some persons of nervous temperament cannot
approach even a moderate degree of steadiness.
We have already noticed that the point of regard can
be moved around in any direction. It is mainly by our
Fig. 106. The Result.
+
Fig. 107. A Puzzler for the
Blind-Spot.
Deception by
the blind-spot.
No influence on
space.
Movement of
the point of
regard.
i86
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Difiference in
difficulty for
different
directions.
knowledge of such movements that we judge the size of
objects.
It is readily noticed that when the head is held
upright and the point of regard is taken directly in
-h
Fig. io8.
Although the blind-spot pretends that it
can read and will attempt to deceive
by making this space appear covered
with letters, yet, if you look steadily at
the cross (with ^^ the left eye
closed) and ^^ place the book
at such a distance that the black dot
disappears, i. e., falls on the blind-spot,
you will find that the letters imagined by
the blind-spot are only indefinite marks.
The Blind-Spot Pretends to Read.
Errors in
estimating
space.
front, the upward movement is more difficult than the
side movements or the downward movements. Let us
measure these movements on each other.
Put a blank sheet of paper on a board and place a
dot in the middle. Holding it directly
in front of the eye so that the dot is at
the point of regard looking straight for-
ward, draw four equal lines, as indicated
in Fig. no. On measuring these lines
the vertical one above the dot will be
found shorter than the vertical one be-
low. Both will be shorter than the horizontal lines ;
the horizontal lines will generally be equal. We can
thus conclude that space above the point of regard in
the usual position is overestimated as compared with
space below ; that space in a vertical direction is over-
estimated as compared with horizontal space ; and that
horizontal space inward or outward is about the same.
Fig. 109. Test for Eye
Steadiness.
Seeing with One Eye.
187
A
\
Fig. no.
This explains why c and not b seems the continuation
of a in Fig. iii.
Placing a dot on the paper in the same way, draw a Apparent and
square around it. By turning the square sidewise you ^''"^ square.
will see that you
have really made it
too short. Turn
this book upside
down. What do
you notice in regard
to the letter s and
the figure 8 ? Why
are they made so ?
When the point
of regard moves
upward it has a
tendency to move outward
it moves also inward.
Looking at the edge of the room, you will notice that
as you look rapidly along it toward the ceiling the whole
edge seems to tip inward. With the right eye it tips
a toward the left, with the left eye
toward the right. As you look
rapidly downward toward the
floor, the edge appears to tip in
the opposite direction.
This tipping is very disagree-
^ able in the cities of tall build-
. ings. If you happen to look
at them from one side of the
eye, they seem to be leaning dangerously over the
street ; if from the other, they seem to slant back as if
disdaining the streets below them.
What the Eye Considers to be Equal
Distances.
when it moves downward,
Tipping of
vertical lines.
Fig. III. Which is the continu
ationofa? Why?
i88
Thinki7ig, Feeling, Doing.
Illusions of
distance.
Interrupted
distance.
Constraint in
movement.
The, amount of this tipping in the eye can be meas-
ured. Rule a horizontal line on a sheet of paper ; then
lay the edge of the ruler across it at what you judge
with one eye to be a right angle and draw the line. On
another sheet of paper do the same for the other eye.
Your two right angles will disagree to a small extent.
Distances are judged by the difficulty in traversing
A
B
Fig. 112. Illusion of the Interrupted Distance.
them ; if the road is hard, or if you make many stops by
the way, it is much longer than otherwise.
The distance between the two dots A and B in Fig. 112
is apparently greater than that between B and C. The
intervening dots are like tempting seats by the wayside.
Fig. 113. Illusion of Filled Space.
The journey is really made harder and apparently
longer because your attention is caught at each one.
The open distance in Fig. 113 is apparently less
^ <2' than the line-distance. It
..'^ is harder to walk on a
straight and narrow path
than to go as you please ;
you may go perfectly
straight anyway, but with
Fig. 114. Which is the continuation . ,.
ofo? Why? no directmg line you are
free from constraint. This explains why the continua-
tion of <2 in Figs. 114 and 115 appears to be at c.
We have learned to estimate distances by movements
i^^
Seemg with One Eye,
189
of the point of regard, and the whole visual field is Errors without
, , 1-1 T- -1 movement.
regulated accordingly. Even without movements we
make the same errors of estimation.
The illusion in Fig. 1 16 is on the same principle as that
^ ^ in Fio-. ii-:i. The effect depends on the , „
*^\ . . Influence of
relation of the number of cross-lines to cross-lines,
the distance ; with too many or too few
it is not so powerful.
The square A in Fig. 117 appears
Fig. 116. The Interrupted Distance.
Fig. 115. Continu
ation of a seems
to be c. Whv ?
too long and B appears too tall for the
same reason.
Fig. 119 shows the same illusion for angles.
It is evident from these facts why women like to have
B
Fig. 117. The Distorted Squares.
Illusion in
dress.
as many bows, ribbons, buttons, etc., as possible on the
dress. The more the surface of the dress is broken up
the taller the person. The B J^
illusion is heightened by the
diversity of colors employed.
In viewing two lines meet-
ing at an angle, the smaller i
1 • A.' ^ A Fiff. 118. Which is the continu-
angle is overestimated as ^ ation of a? Why?
Estimation of
angles.
190
Thinkings Feeli7ig, Doing.
Small thing^s
and big things.
Illusions by
angles.
compared with the larger. The effect is to press the
sides of the smaller angle outward.
It is a general law of mental life that small things are
Fig. 119. The Enlarged Angle. Fig. 120. Displacement by Inclined Lines.
a^.
B
\
thought greater than they are in com-
parison with large ones. It requires a
special effort to realize that a dime is
only T¥o part of $10.00; one of six
pieces of pie seems to be greater than \
of a whole pie.
The two horizontal lines in Fig. 1 20
do not seem to be parts of the same
• straight line because the acute angles
Fig. 121. Why? ^j.g overestimated and the lines are ap-
parently bent from the horizontal. A striking method of
showing this illusion is to draw a horizontal line on a
\.
Fig. 122. Breaking Parallel Lines.
Seemg with One Eye.
191
slate and then after drawing two inclined lines, as in the
figure, to erase the middle portion. In spite of the fact
that the two horizontal lines are known to belong to the
Fig. 123. Tipping Parallel Lines.
Fig. 124. Bending Straight Lines.
same straight line the illusion is irresistible. This tipping
of a line in the direction in which an acute angle points
is intensified when a number of angles are made, as in
Fig. 122. The top line, for example, has acute angles
above it which tip it downward toward the right and
192
Thi7iking, Feelings Doing.
V
A
Fig. 125. Changing
the Length of a
Line by Different
Cross-lines.
Fig. 127. Explana-
tion of Fig. 125.
We estimate by
areas.
Fig. 326. Illusion of the Crinoline.
Seeing with 0?ie Eye.
193
acute angles below it which tip it
upward at the left. The second line
is affected in the opposite way. The
horizontal lines are really parallel. See
also Fig. 123.
A continually increasing change of
direction is shown in Fig. 124. The
two horizontal lines appear curved.
There is still another class of illusions
resting on a mistake of attention. The
vertical lines in Fig. 125 are all of the
same length, although apparently quite
different.
Fig. 126 shows how the crinoline
makes people appear shorter.
The reason for this illusion is this :
whereas we suppose ourselves to be com-
paring the vertical lines, we are really
paying attention to and comparing the
areas between the cross-lines. The areas
between the cross-lines in Fig. 127 are /
about equal, and we judge both parts of
134-
Fig- 135-
as m
134
Fig. 135. But with both eyes the book appears in
199
200
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
The funda-
mental fact of
binocular
vision.
Uniting images
from the two
eyes.
Eliminating the
extra images.
relief. We imagine we see the book as in Fig. 136.
What we really see is shown in Fig. 137.
This union of two different flat views into a single
solid view is the fundamental fact of two-eyed seeing,
or binocular vision. The union is unconsciously per-
formed and is irresistible. Why? Let us trace the
process step by step.
Holding the head directly above these two dots, let
the eyes stare as in reverie, i. e. , looking far behind the
paper. Four dots will be seen, each eye seeing two dots.
If, however, you look at some imaginary object not far
behind the paper, the two middle dots will come together.
There will then be three dots, the middle one being a
combination of one dot from each
eye. This can be very plainly seen
by sticking the two dots on a
window-pane or a piece of glass ;
when you look at some object at a
proper distance beyond the glass,
the two middle dots fuse together.
After the union of the two middle
pictures into one the two outer ones
are still faintly seen. To be rid of
these outside pictures all that is ^'^" ^^'^'
needed is to place a strip of paper from the nose to the
middle point between the two dots. This makes it evi-
dent that the single dot seen is a compound of the dot
from the right eye with the dot from the left.
Exactly the same fact is illustrated in Fig. 138, where
the problem is to put the bird in the cage. A visiting
card is placed from the line AB to the nose, the eyes are
Fig. 136.
Seeing with Two Eyes.
20I
relaxed and the bird goes into the cage without difficulty.
Most persons find it tiresome or difficult to observe The stereo-
. scope.
views in the way just described. The presentation of
B
Fig. 13S. Put the Bird in the Cage bj- Binocular Vision.
pictures to the eyes separately is most conveniently done
by the stereoscope, of which one kind is shown in Fig.
139. A card containing the two pictures is placed on the
bottom. The left eye sees only the
left-hand picture, the right eye only
the right.
The principle of the stereoscope
consists in bringing together the mid-
dle pictures for each eye and in avoid-
ing the outer ones. This is most com-
monly done by means of prismatic
lenses.
The prism stereoscope contains two
glass prisms n, p, with a partition be- pj^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^.^^^
tween and in front of them. It is a stereoscope.
property of prisms that an object which is at m when
Its principle.
Action of the
prism stereo-
scope.
202
Thinking, jFeeling, Doing.
The prisms are
also lenses.
The book
stereoscope.
directly viewed, apparently changes its position to some
such place as c when seen through the prism. The
amount and direction of the change depend on the
character of the prism. Two prisms can be so chosen
that for the left eye a picture at m is transferred to c and
for the right eye a picture at o is transferred to the same
place. The two impressions from different eyes will
then be united. The prisms are usually so adjusted that
the distance from in to o is 2I inches.
It is desirable that the prisms should at the same time
be lenses, for the following reason. In experimenting
with the two dots it will have been noticed that when the
gaze was directed to a point beyond them they were
seen blurred around the edges. There are very few
people who can make each eye look straight forward and
yet see near objects distinctly. When looking at dis-
tant objects their eyes are far-sighted for near objects.
As it is necessary
to have the stereo-
scopic pictures
near at hand and
yet have the lines
of regard parallel,
the far-sightedness
is corrected by
lenses. The two
prisms must thus
also be magnifying
lenses.
In order to present stereoscopic views to my reade;rs
I have had them printed (for the first time) ready for
the application of the stereoscope directly to the book.
The simplest method is to unscrew the back portion of
Fig. 140. The Book Stereoscope ; How to Use it.
Seeing with Two Eyes.
203
any stereoscope and hold it to the eyes directly before
the picture in the book, as shown in Fig. 140. Three
views will be seen (Fig. 141) ; the one in the middle, C,
is the view produced by the combination of views
from the right and left 4. c ^
pictures, and the others,
A, B, are extra views.
Another method is to
cut off the end of the
stick of the stereoscope
till the book, when
placed against the end,
is at just the proper dis-
tance. There are no
extra pictures in this
case.
When two like pic-
Fig. 141. Action of the Book Stereoscope.
tures are placed so that
the prisms cause them to fall exactly on the same spot,
the images are seen as one. The two heads in Fig.
142 appear as one head.
When the two pictures are not alike, they make a com- combining un
like pictures.
Combining- two
like pictures.
Fig. 142. Two Like Pictures.
pound figure, as in Figs. 143, 144. When two pictures
are farther apart than the distance of the middle points
of the prisms, they fall beside each other. In Fig. 145 the
vertical bars are at the proper distance for union, w^hereas
204
Thmking, Feelhig, Doingi
the horizontal projections are too far apart. The result is
a cross. The outline of the vertical bar is darker because
the black line of one picture falls on the black line of
I ^
Fig. 143. Unlike Pictures to be Combined.
the other, whereas the black line of the horizontal bar
in one picture falls on the white space of the other.
Up to this point the results of two-eyed vision have
Fig. 144. Prometheus.
Double images ;
crossed dis-
parity.
been flat pictures. The production of the effect of ob-
jects in relief is not quite so simple.
Let two pencils be held upright before the eyes in a
line directly in front of the nose and at about four inches
V V
' /
7
7
/
/
V
Fig. 145. The Cross.
Seeing with Two Eyes.
205
=
Uncrossed dis-
parity.
apart. When looking at the farther pencil you see two
nearer pencils, as in Fig. 146. The image L belongs to
the left eye because it disappears when that eye is closed ;
R belongs to the right eye.
This condition of the extra
images is called crossed dis-
parity; it is to be remembered
that objects nearer than the
point of regard are seen with
crossed disparity.
On looking at the nearer
pencil, the farther appears
double (Fig. 147). By closing
one eye it is evident that the
farther pencil is seen with un-
crossed disparity.
Thus when we look at any
point, the objects nearer than "^ ' padty^to dL?'^"
that point are seen with crossed disparity, those farther ^^^nce.
than it with uncrossed disparity.
Now hold a single pencil with one end pointing to the
nose about two feet away and the other straight in front, relief.
Looking at the farther end, you would expect the nearer
end to be seen as two ends in crossed disparity (Fig. 148) ;
looking at the nearer end you would expect to see two
farther ends in uncrossed disparity (Fig. 149) ; looking
at the middle you would expect to see both ends double
in opposite ways (Fig. 150). Since the pencils are con-
tinuous to the ends, you would expect the double vision
to extend down to the point of regard. What you
actually see is one pencil m r^/z 156, 157- The dia-
gram in Fig. 158 is built
upon the same laws.
Finally, the stereoscopic
views of buildings, per-
sons, and landscapes, such
as can be obtained every-
where, are resolvable into
the same principles aided
by the shading, shadows,
and perspective.
In addition to the ef-
fect of relief which we gain
by stereoscopic vision
there are several other
important results of two-
eyed seeing. Among
them are : ( i ) binocular
strife, (2) binocular luster,
and (3) binocular con-
trast.
Binocular strife is pro-
duced when the two dif-
ferent views are separately
presented to the two eyes.
In Fig. 159 the various
rings are filled with lines
in different directions ;
what happens when they
are combined with the
stereoscope? One of the
rings is filled with shading
Seeing with Two Eyes.
211
which slants in one direction for the left eye and in the
other direction for the right eye. The result is peculiar.
Fig. 159. Binocular Strife
Very rarely do the two sets
of lines combine to form
crossed shading. Sometimes
the left-hand shading alone
appears, sometimes the right-
hand shading wins ; gener-
ally the two alternate fre-
quently and irregularly. If
you happen to think of one
kind of shading, that ap-
pears. But you cannot keep
either kind for more than an
instant ; the other will replace
it. It seems to be largely a
matter of attention. Yet, the
most frequent aspect of all is
that the shading is in patches ;
the left-hand picture predom-
inates in parts while the right-
hand one occupies the rest.
And the queer thing about
it is that these parts are con-
tinually changing. The inner
circle behaves in the same
way. It is in truth a strife
between the two eyes.
PQ
be
212
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
Ordinary luster.
Binocular
luster.
Binocular con-
trast.
Binocular luster, or polish, is so called from the re-
semblance of the effect to actual polish. A polished
object contains a contradiction in itself Its little marks,
irregularities, and corners
remain the same, although
changes in the position of
the light and in the ob-
^ jects near it are followed
^ by changes in the reflec-
« tion. A polished door-
I knob differs from an un-
'g polished one by partially
^ reflecting the lights from
■^ surrounding objects;
I there is a strife between
§ the color and general ap-
g pearance the knob would
■^ have if unpolished and the
I appearance of effects of
t surrounding objects.
3 In Fig. 1 60 the left eye
I receives an impression of
'^ a white crystal and the
vS right eye one of a black
bi) crystal : when viewed with
£ 1
a stereoscope, the same
space is covered by a
different color for the two
eyes. The result is a
beautiful, lustrous, translucent crystal, showing changes
of light and dark as the binocular strife enters into effect.
Binocular contrast is so called because the result of a
binocular strife depends somewhat on the surroundings.
Seeing with Two Eyes. 21
In Fig. 161 we would expect an effect of binocular luster
and binocular strife. We do get them, but, in the
neighborhood of the most prominent points of each
figure, the corresponding color overpowers the other.
Thus, in the neighborhood of the angel Michael the
white is strongest, while around Lucifer the black over-
powers the light.
CHAPTER XVI.
FEELING.
The term,
" feeling.'
Like and dis-
like.
Indifferent ex-
periences.
The word feeling is employed in many meanings.
We speak of feeling hunger and thirst, and of feeling
pain. We also say that love and hate, joy and sorrow,
care and hope, are feelings. We tell of feelings of the
beautiful and the ugly, of feelings of truth, honor, and
virtue. What is the common property that brings all
these into relation ? There is one connecting link among
them ; they express like or dislike.
The mental fact which we express by liking or dislik-
ing is what we shall term " feeling." It is true that we
sometimes say a thing feels hot, feels rough, etc., but we
need not fear any confusion with feelings of liking and
disliking.
We have thus two simple feelings, liking and dislik-
ing. There is no objection to calling them two " quali-
ties of feeling," just as the many rainbow colors can be
called "qualities of color," but there is no necessity for
doing so.
Some of our experiences arouse no feeling ; they are
indifferent. We do not care whether our neighbor wears
a fresh-looking coat or a rusty one. The people of Chi-
cago do not care whether their streets show a clear stone
pavement or reek with mud. Most sensations, however,
arouse some feeling ; there are very few things for which
we have neither a liking nor a dislike.
The state of our feelings depends on the strength
214
Feeling. 215
of the impression that arouses them. For example, a dependence of
moderately sweet taste, as of sugar, is agreeable ; an in- strength of the
tensely sweet taste, as of saccharine, is disagreeable. A impression.
moderate degree of saltiness is pleasant, but a strong de-
gree is distasteful. Even a faint bitterness, as in beer,
is liked by some persons, while the intense bitterness of
quinine is revolting.
Feelings are connected with all sorts of experiences. Feelings con-
Muscular exertion, or action of any kind, may arouse muscular
feelings. Moderate activity is generally pleasurable ; ^^ '^' ^'
but tiredness, over-exertion, and unhealthiness, may
bring about intense unpleasantness.
The extreme pleasure of muscular exercise can be felt
only by persons who, like the children in many schools,
are forced to remain in one seat for hours. In some
class-rooms during a whole morning the children are not
allowed to leave their seats ; I have been a pupil
in classes where positive terror kept us from making any
unnecessary movement. Oh, the joy of jumping down
whole flights of stairs after school was over !
From nearly every organ in the body we receive some
• ^ FGclins'S con-
sensation. The stomach makes itself known by hunger nectedwith
or repletion ; the throat is heard from when thirsty, thirst.
Each of these sensations may arouse feelings. Thus,
hunger and thirst are disagreeable ; repletion and quench-
ing of thirst are agreeable. Other sensations, such as
of the liver, were originally very strong, but with ad-
vancing culture and age they have to a large extent dis-
appeared. The feelings, however, still remain strong.
An overloaded stomach or a disordered liver is liable to
make us look upon the world in a very dismal light; the
disagreeable feeling from such a source has overpowered
all the others.
2l6
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Esthetics of
taste.
Influence of
touch and tem-
perature on
taste feelings.
Feelings con-
nected with
colors.
There are some persons, known as "gourmets," who
devote themselves to a study of pleasing combinations
of tastes and smells. The fine feeling of the French in
this matter has led to the development of the race of
French cooks. The puritanical austerity of New Eng-
land has brought about an almost total decay of the
feeling of the beautiful, which exhibits itself not only in
its ugly wooden houses and hideously somber garb, but
also in its unsesthetical pies, doughnuts, and baked
beans.
The influence of touch and temperature on our likings
for tastes is so entirely overlooked that scientists have
been deceived into supposing that there was some actual
chemical difference corresponding to the difference in
agreeableness of taste between things which were really
mixed with various touch and temperature sensations.
A draught direct from the old oaken bucket has a
taste quite different from the same water drunk from a
glass. Water from a tin cup is intolerable, yet coffee
from a tin cup is far superior to coffee in any other way.
The reason is a purely psychological one ; the different
sensations of touch and temperature mingle with the
sensations of taste to produce agreeable combinations.
Various objects are liked or disliked according to
their characters. Strong bright colors are always liked.
Any one looking at the rainbow colors would be tempted
to exclaim, "All colors are beautiful!" This effect is
very pronounced when the eye looks directly at the
light thrown back by a spectrum-grating (page i6o) ;
all the colors from red to violet and purple are of an
indescribable beauty.
White itself, when not too strong, is just as beautiful.
Since we cannot look directly at the sun, the light must
Feeling. 217
be weakened by reflection. This is done by the method
described on page 160. White, as seen from such a
surface, possesses a beauty as great, if not greater, than
the rainbow colors.
When the colors are mixed with white, less beautiful Feelings con-
colors are obtained. No pink can be produced that is pure^ colors. ^"^'
equal to pure red ; no pale green that is as beautiful as
pure green. The whitish skies of our colder climates
cannot be compared with the deep blue sky of Italy.
When a color or white is darkened, /. e., made less
strong, its beauty is lessened. Grays and shades are
not comparable with full colors. It is when both these
changes are made that indifferent or disagreeable colors
are obtained. Grayish pinks or grayish browns or drab
blues are somber and unpleasant.
Colored tablets are sometimes given to children with the
command to pick out the prettiest one. They generally
pick out the yellow, not because (as the teacher supposes)
it has anything to do with sunlight, but simply because it
is the brightest color in the particular set. With some
sets of ' ' spectrum ' ' tablets inflicted on American school
children the dull gray red is such a disagreeable color
that the children persistently avoid it until the teacher
succeeds in producing the desired deformity in the color
feelino^s.
In general we can say : pure white sunlight, when not summary of
too strong, is beautiful ; the rainbow colors are beauti- fedfngs.'^^ °^
ful ; these all become less pleasing when less strong ;
the colors become less pleasing when mixed with white ;
the most disagreeable effects are produced by mixtures
of gray (weaker white) with shades (weaker colors).
Among all the good things of life nature is the most
beautiful, art is second, and science — why should not
2i8 Thinkings Feelings Doing.
science be third ? The most beautiful colors and combi-
nations we see are the colors of the spectrum series —
science's colors. They lack form ; nature makes flower-
forms out of science's colors and we have all the glories
of the fields ; the flowers are nature's colors. Art takes
nature's flowers and puts poetry's meaning into them.
Flowers as symbols of life, light, and love are art's colors.
Feelings con- We have thus far spoken only of single colors. When
nected with . . , , ... t
color combi- colors are combined, the combination may produce an
agreeable or a disagreeable eflect, depending on the
relation of the two colors.
Combinations In the first placc, any combination of the rainbow
always agree- colors is agreeable. In the rainbow or the spectrum they
are all there together. In fact, when colors approach
the brilliancy of the rainbow colors, as in stained glass,
almost any combination appears fairly good. This is
one reason why the patterns in a kaleidoscope have been
of so little value in decorative art ; for when the colors
are most carefully imitated in coarser materials they are
apt to lose their brilliancy and to produce disagreeable
effects. To a lesser degree this applies also to silk ;
many color combinations worked out in this material are
tolerable on account of their brightness, while the same
designs if made in wool or cotton appear very poor.
, . Nevertheless, even with the brisfhtest spectrum colors,
Most pleasing _ .
combinations, some pairs are more pleasiug than othcrs. If the colors
of the spectrum be arranged in a circle so that comple-
mentary colors (page 167) are opposite each other, it can
be laid down as a rule established by experiment that a
combination of two colors is more agreeable the more
nearly they are complementary.
When two grays are combined together, the eflect is
more pleasing the more they differ. White and black
Feeling. 219
are the most pleasing of all. When a color is combined combinations
with gray, or when two colors of different shade or tint iigh[|nd dark°^
are combined, the most pleasing effect is obtained when '^^^°^^-
the difference is greatest. A light red and a dark
green will be better than a moderately light red and a
moderately dark green. Yet even this last may be bet-
ter than a light green and a dark blue, because red and
green as colors give better effects than green and blue.
To get the full effect we should use double contrast :
(i) of complementary colors, and (2) of light and dark. Psychological
For example, we should combine bright red with dark i?^\ere.sies.
bluish green or dark red with light bluish green, bright or-
ange with dark blue or dark orange with bright blue, etc.
It must be confessed that these statements are rank
heresies in decorative art. Still they are the combina-
tions preferred by unprejudiced individuals. The bright
colors and strong contrasts are preferred by children, by
savage tribes, by the peasantry, and also in former
periods of art.
Why should we not be allowed to enjoy the combina- Appeal to
tions of color as nature shows them to us ? Nature dec- "^'^"^^•
orates her fields, hills, and skies with the most gorgeous
colors ; we northern nations decorate our towns, our
homes, and our persons with the dullest combinations
we can find. Any one who attempts to put a little life
into our colors is decried as an uncultured being. As
Ruskin says: " The modern color enthusiasts who insist
that all colors must be dull and dirty are just like people
who eat slate-pencil and chalk and assure everybody that
they are nicer and purer than strawberries and plums.
The worst general character that decorative coloring can
possibly have is a prevalent tendency to a dirty yellow-
ish green, like that of a decaying heap of vegetables. It
220
Thhiking, Feeling, Doing.
is distinctively a sign of a decay of color appreciation."
In these remarks on modern taste I have referred to
the tastes of the general public. I must except from
Fig. 162. Single Symmetry,
Horizontal.
Fig. 163. Single Symmetry,
Vertical.
Feelings con-
nected with
form.
First law of
beauty in divi-
sion of forms.
them the newer schools of design and also the pretty
girls of New York, who have lately taken to the use of
harmonious combinations of bright colors.
The products of art please or displease us not only on
account of their color but also on account of their form.
The elements of space as exciting pleasure can be
Fig. 164. Double Symmetry,
Fig. 165. Threefold Symmetry.
classed into the division of forms and the direction of
bounding lines.
In regard to the division of forms, we notice first that
regular forms are preferable to irregular ones. The
Feeling.
221
simplest kind of regularity is symmetry, i. e. , the like-
ness of the two halves. Horizontal symmetry, z. e.,
likeness of parts on each side of a vertical line, is the
most preferred. Double sym-
metry is better than single. The
more complicated the symmetry
becomes, the better we like the re-
sult. The degree of symmetry is
denoted by the number of lines
that can be drawn through the cen-
ter whereby the half of the figure
on one side of the line is just the ^'S- 166. Fourfold Symmetry.
opposite of the half on the other side. A plain circle
is in perfect symmetry in every direction, but it becomes
much more pleasing when made into a rosette.
Fig. 167. Eightfold Symmetry.
Another kind of regularity is found in a definite re-
lation of height to breadth. The perfect
square is very displeasing because,
owing to the overestimation of the ver-
tical direction (page 187) the figure ap-
pears to be slightly too tall ; it seems
to impel us to make it correct. As the
Fig.i68. Perfect, but , . - , ......
Simple, Symmetry actual square IS Shortened we dislike it
in All Directions. , i /^ ii i • , i
less, and, finally, when it appears to be
a perfect square, we consider it a very pleasing figure.
The pleasing
square.
222
Thinkmg, Peeling, Doing.
The pleasing
rectangle.
-Esthetics of
form.
Of course, by actual measurement it is no longer a
square, but it is a square as far as we are concerned.
If a square be changed to a rectangle, it is less pleas-
ing than before, unless there is a certain relation between
length and height. Suppose in Fig. 170 the square at
X to be successively lengthened in
the direction X'. Careful experi-
ments have proven that the degree
of pleasure follows some such course
as indicated by the line SG. When
the relation of the two sides is actu-
Fig. 169, Combinations of ally I times I the figure is very dis-
ymme ry. pleasing. When it is equal to an
apparent square the pleasure is considerable, S. As it
grows in length the pleasure at first decreases, then
increases till at a relation 1:1.618 it is at a maximum, G.
We have now reached the border-land between psy-
Fig. 170. The Law of Pleasing Relations of the Dimensions of a Rectangle.
chology and the aesthetics of form, and at the same time
we have come to the end of our definite experimental
knowledge. The writers on architecture, painting, draw-
ing, and decoration have produced numberless specula-
tions on the psychological principles underlying the
beautiful and the ugly. How far each is right we can-
not say ; as psychologists we have no call to meddle till
experimental evidence can be produced.
Feeling.
223
" If I were not Alexander, I would be Diogenes." pleasure in
Probably no artist {i. ■ ^
way:.^ — ) pulsc-Hne, as traced on a
smoked drum, rises as the intensity of the beat is
stronger, and the beats come more rapidly when the
person experiences a very pleasant feeling. Care and
anxiety render it weak and slow ; terror arrests it
And there are many indications that other
It has often
been noticed that violent anger results in a return of the
bile to the blood, which means a derangement of the
Relation of
other organs to altogether.
organs react to such changes of feeling
Feelmg. 225
function of the liver. The tear-glands are very easily-
excited bv the feelino: of sorrow. And we should un-
doubtedly discover other similar connections were it not
that they have no external symptoms. Besides the par-
ticular organ which is especially concerned in a particu-
lar state of feeling, there are always other organs more
or less affected ; and it is the complex of sensations re-
sulting from the sum total of
these separate sensations that
constitutes the mass of internal
feelings and sensations. The
muscles, for example, are almost
always involved in this second-
ary excitation. We have di- ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H The
rect experience of the energy
and tension, or of the exhaustion
and relaxation of our muscles : ^'%- ^"3- rS]t'^"f^ ""^^^^^^ ^^ ^
Result of Fright. (The record
and our general states of feel- ^^"^ ^^"^ ^^'^>"^- ^ — )
ing are altogether different according as the limbs are
movable and elastic or are heavy loads to weigh the
body down. A feeling of joy and excitation makes
movement easy and prompt ; a depressing feeling ren-
ders it slow and heavy.
CHAPTER XVII.
EMOTION.
Emotions are
complex.
Their wide
influence.
Feelings in- The preceding chapter treated of the simple cases of
fluence thought, iji^jng ^nd disHking. But when we like anything, our
course of thought generally becomes different from what
it would have been if we had disliked it ; and likewise
the reverse.
The complex processes of thought and feeling com-
bined are generally called emotions. They are among
the most important mental phenomena, exerting a
marked influence both upon thought and voluntary
action. They are reflected in certain expressive move-
ments. These are further connected with reactions of
the heart, the blood-vessels, the respiratory muscles, and
certain secretory organs, which take on a special char-
acteristic form in each particular emotion.
The general subject of the emotions has been so
clearly stated by Wundt that, at the present stage of
psychological investigation, I cannot do better than fol-
low his treatment for the rest of this chapter.
The typical emotion has three stages : an initial feel-
ing ; a subsequent change in the train of ideas, intensi-
fying and qualitatively modifying the initial feeling ;
and (always supposing that the emotion is distinct and
well defined) a final feeling, of greater or less duration,
which may possibly give rise to a new emotion of which
The principal difference be-
Analysis of an
emotion.
it forms the initial feeling.
226
Efnotion.
227
of emotions.
Physical effects
of emotion.
tween feeling and emotion consists in the second stage
— the alteration in the train of ideas. The presence Two classes
of this alteration enables us to divide emotions into two
classes, excitant and inhibitory. Instances of the former
are joy and anger ; of the latter, terror and fear. At
the same time, all very intensive emotions are inhibitory
in character, and it is only when they have run some
part of their course that their excitant side comes to
consciousness. On the physical side, the effect of emo-
tion upon the train of ideas is accurately reflected in
external movement. The excitant emotion quickens
thought and involves heightened mo\'ement of face and
limbs, increase of heart activity, and dilating of the
blood-vessels ; the inhibitory emotion paralyzes, or at
least relaxes, the muscles, slows the heart-beat, and con-
tracts the vessels. All these physiological effects have
their accompaniment of sensations, which intensify the
feelings in the emotion.
Less intensive degrees of emotion are called moods.
It is a general rule that the duration of emotion varies
inversely with its intensity ; so that moods are more per-
manent states of mind than emotions proper. Violent
emotions are sometimes termed "passions." The name
indicates that strongly emotional states, which oscillate
between liking and disliking, tend invariably toward the
side of the latter. * ' Passion ' ' also implies that a partic-
ular emotion has been habitual. Hence the word is
often used to denote a permanent condition which finds
its expression in frequent outbursts of emotion.
The most indefinite emotions arejoyand sorrow. When sorrow.
sorrow is directed upon the external object which excites
it, we call it care. We can only be careful about others,
and if we wish to express the fact that an object arouses
Moods.
Passions.
228
Thmking, Feelings Doing.
Care.
Melancholy.
Gloom.
Joy.
no interest in us we say that we do not " care " about it.
The personal opposite of care is melancholy. The
melancholiac is centered in himself ; he withdraws from
the world to brood in solitude over his own pain. Care
and melancholy become anxiety and dejection when they
pass from emotions
to permanent
moods. Intermedi-
ate between these
objective and per-
sonal forms of sor-
row stand gloom and
depression. We
may be gloomy as to
our fate in the world
and depressed about
a loss we have suf-
fered, or we may be
gloomy or de-
pressed without any
external reason,
simply because our
mood will have it so.
Joy, like sorrow, assumes different forms according to
the direction which it takes. But we have not nearly so
many words to express joyous emotion as we have to ex-
press sorrow. A joyous mood we call cheerfulness, or,
in its higher stages, hilarity. But we cannot tabulate
the joyous emotions as objective and personal, as we
could their opposites. It may be that our poverty of
words points to a distinction in the facts of our emotional
life. The joyous emotions appear to be more uniform,
less variously colored, than the sorrowful.
Fig. 174. Sorrow.
Emotion.
229
The emotions of joy and sorrow, whether their refer- personal char-
ence is mainly external or to the person himself, are acter of joy and
J i ' sorrow.
always personal in character ; the emotional excitation
of our own minds is always the principal thing. A
mood, on the other hand, may be objectified by our
putting our own feelings into the external objects which
excite them. If joy and sorrow are the expressions of
an internal harmony and disharmony, these objective
emotions are the result of some external harmonious or
inharmonious im-
pression. Like and
dislike are the most
general forms of ob-
jective emotion cor-
responding to joy
and sorrow on the
personal side. They
further imply a
movement to or
from the object :
what we like attracts
us ; what we dislike
repels us. And this
movement finds its
expression in the
various particular forms in which the general emotions
occur.
The attraction which a pleasing object has for us all
we call charm ; a thing is ' ' charming ' ' which both
pleases and attracts us. The opposite of charm is repul-
sion, a violent dislike, which makes us turn away from
an object in displeasure. Repulsion becomes aversion,
and, at a still higher stage, anger, when it is turned
Fig. 175. Joy,
Charm and
repulsion.
230
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Indifference.
Distinction be-
tween sen-
sation and
moods, or
emotions.
directly upon the repellent object ; it becomes chagrin
and mortification if the unpleasant mood can find no
outlet. The extreme degree of anger is rage ; the ex-
treme of mortification is exasperation. The opposite of
chagrin is contentment ; when pleasantly concerned
with external objects it becomes de-
light ; when quietly occupied with its
own affairs, happiness.
The two opposite processes of
charm and repulsion find a meeting-
point in indifierence. Indifference
has a tendency in the direction of un-
pleasantness ; when sense or thought
is sated with the indifferent or per-
haps originally attractive object, it
passes over at once into repugnance.
Repugnance is as much sensation as
emotion. In the latter shape it has an objective form,
antipathy, and a personal one, discontentedness. If the
emotion becomes a permanent mood, we have weariness
and dissatisfaction.
In all these cases, emotion and mood are at once dis-
tinguishable from sensation by their connection with a
train of strongly emotional ideas. When we feel joy or
sorrow, our mood is the result of some pleasant or pain-
ful experience which may be resolved into a number of
ideas. If we are mourning the death of a friend, our
consciousness is filled by affectionate memories, more or
less clear or distinct, which cooperate to produce the
emotion. If we are made angry by some insolent re-
mark, our first feeling is one of violent displeasure ; then
our mind is flooded by a torrent of ideas connected with
ourselves, the personality of our assailant, and the more
Fig. 176. Anger.
Emotion. 231
immediate circumstances of the insult. Most of them
will not attain to any degree of clearness, but all are held
together by the feeling of displeasure, which in its turn
is intensified by the sensations accompanying our ex-
pressive movements.
A simple sensation which has no special relation to influence of
our past mental history will, therefore, hardly be able to
excite an emotion, though it may call up quite intensive
sensations. Where an emotion appears we may assume
the presence of memory-ideas, of experiences in which
a similar sensation was somehow concerned. The full
and harmonious tone of a peal of bells sounds holiday-
like to us, because we have been accustomed from child-
hood to interpret the chimes as harbingers of holidays
and religious festivals ; the blare of the trumpet reminds
us of war and arms ; the blast of the horn brings up the
greenwood and the tumult of the chase ; the chirping of
the birds tells us that spring has come ; the chords of the
organ suggest a congregation assembled for devotion.
It is probably memory again which determines the Example from
way we feel in regard to color impressions, although in
their case the ideas aroused are not so clear or distinct.
Why is white the color of innocence and festivity, black
the color of mourning and severity ? Why do we choose
blood-red to express energy and spirit, or purple to ex-
press dignity and solemnity ? Why do we call green
the color of hope ? It would be difficult to trace the
mood to its original source in each particular case. In
many cases it probably arises from an obscure association
of the color with the occasions when custom prescribes
its use. Purple has been the royal color since time be-
gan ; and black is almost everywhere among the west-
ern nations the color of the mourner's garments.
232
Thinking, Feelifig, Doi7ig.
Original con-
nection not ex-
plained by
association.
Emotions of
the future.
Expectation.
Satisfaction and
disappoint-
ment.
It is true that this association does not fully explain
the connection between the sensations and the mood
which it arouses. There must be some original reason
for the choice of one particular color, and no other, as
the expression of a state of feeling. It is perhaps justifi-
able to look for this reason in the relationship between
the sensation and the emotional character of particular
colors.
Emotions exhibit peculiar modifications when their
character is not determined, as in the cases hitherto con-
sidered, by impressions and ideas belonging to the pres-
ent and considered as present, but by ideas which refer to
the future.
The most general of these emotions of the future
is expectation. In it we outrun in impressions of
the present and anticipate those which the future will
bring. We look forward to its realization ; and if this
realization is postponed, it becomes what we call strained
expectation ; the bodily feeling of strain accompanies the
emotion. In expectation the muscles are tense, like
those of a runner awaiting the signal for the race, al-
though very possibly the expected impression demands
no motor response whatsoever. Expectation becomes
watching if the expected event may happen at any
moment, and our sensory attention is wide awake to pre-
vent its passing unnoticed. The tension is relaxed with
the appearance of the expected impression. If the
occurring event fulfils our expectation, we have the
emotion of satisfaction ; if not, that of disappointment.
Satisfaction and disappointment constitute sudden re-
laxations of expectant attention. If expectation is pro-
longed, its tension will gradually disappear of itself, for
every emotion weakens with time.
E^notion. 233
The opposite of disappointment is surprise. Surprise surprise.
is the result of an unexpected event. In it we have
ideas suddenly aroused by external impressions, and in-
terrupting the current train of thought in a way which
we did not anticipate, and which, at the same time,
strongly attracts our attention. Surprise may be in
quality pleasurable, painful, or altogether indifferent. A
special form of it is astonishment. Here the e\'ent is
not only unexpected at the moment, but unintelligible
for some time afterwards. Astonishment is, therefore, a
kind of continued surprise. If it passes into a still more
permanent mood, it becomes wonder.
The feeling of rhythm, which is the single psycholog- Feeiino-of
ical motive in dancing and ranks with harmony and dis- ''^^>'^^™-
harmony as a psychological motive in musical compo-
sition, contains the elements both of expectation and
satisfaction. The regular repetition in rhythmical sen-
sations makes us expect every succeeding stimulation,
and the expectation is immediately followed by satisfac-
tion. Rhythm therefore never involves strain, or, if it
does, it is simply bad rhythm. In pleasant rhythms
satisfaction follows expectation as quickly as possible.
Every impression arouses the expectation of another,
and at the same time satisfies the expectation aroused by
its predecessor, whose relations of time it reproduces.
Rhythm is an emotion compounded of the emotions of
expectation and satisfaction. A broken rhythm is
emotionally identical with disappointment.
Hope and fear may be regarded as special forms of
expectation. Expectation is indefinite. It may refer to
an event desirable or undesirable, or perhaps relatively
indifterent. Hope and fear decide expectation ; hope
is the expectation of a desirable result, fear the ex-
Hope and fear.
234
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
Alarm and
fright.
Intellectual
emotion.
pectation of something undesirable. It is hardly cor-
rect to call hope a future joy, or fear a future sorrow.
The feelings can as little penetrate into the future as the
senses. Hope and fear are the expectation of future joy
and future sorrow, but not joy and sorrow themselves.
Either of them may be realized, just as expectation
may lead to satisfaction or disappointment.
Fear of some immediate disagreeableness is called
alarm. Fright bears the same relation to alarm as does
expectation to surprise.
Fright is the surprise oc-
casioned by some sudden,
terrifying occurrence. It
becomes consternation
when the occurrence
physically paralyzes the
individual experiencing it;
and it is called terror
when he stands amazed
before the event. Con-
Fig. 177. Fright. sternation is, therefore,
the more subjective side of fright, and terror its objective
side. If fear is continued, it becomes uneasiness. The
uneasy mind is always afraid ; every occurrence alarms
it. In other words, the emotion has become permanent,
but at the same time somewhat less intensive.
The emotions both of the present and future assume
the most varied forms, according as the idea changes.
Especially important are those attaching to certain in-
tellectual processes and originating in the peculiar feel-
ings which accompany them. We can distinguish four
kinds of intellectual feelings : the logical, ethical, re-
ligious, and aesthetic. Attaching themselves to very
1 li-
the
EmotioJi. 235
complicated connections of ideas, they almost invariably-
pass over into emotions, and in that form exert upon our
mental life an influence which far exceeds that of any-
other state of feeling. Their analysis belongs, of course. Logical
to the special sciences from which they have their name.
We will devote a few words to the logical emotions ;
first, because they are often overlooked altogether, and,
secondly, because their relationship to the emotions of
the future enables us to use them as illustrations of the
passage of emotion in general into the particular forms
of intellectual emotion. Logical emotions are those
connected with our current of ordinary thought.
It is well known that the rapidity of the course of Emotional
thought exerts a considerable influence upon our general Japfdity^of
emotional condition. It is not indifferent to us whether ^'^^"s'^^-
our ideas succeed one another at their normal rate, or
proceed slowly with many restraints and interruptions,
or pour in upon us in perplexing confusion. Each of
these cases may be realized, whether from internal or
external causes. Our state of mind at the moment, the
topic of our current thought, and external sensations
may all be of determining- influence. The traveler in External causes
■' ^ ^ _ of change in
a new country is well content when his carriage takes rapidity,
him quickly from one impression to another, not so
quickly that he cannot assimilate what he sees, but not
so slowly that he is always wishing himself farther on
amid new scenes. He is not so satisfied if he is lum-
bering along in a heavy wagon, passing for days
through the same scenery, when he longs to be at his
journey's end, or is curiously anticipating novel exper-
iences. Nor is he quite happy when the railway takes
him swift as an arrow through a country rich in histor-
ical associations, and he tries in vain with deafened ears
Internal causes.
236 Thinking, Feeli7ig, Doing,
and tired eyes to fix some of its features in his memory.
This general result can be produced by internal causes
just as well as by the variation of external impressions.
If you have to solve a mathematical problem in a short
time, your thoughts trip each other up ; you are in a
hurry to get on, but are obliged to go back, because
you have been following out a second thought before
you had finished the first. And it is not less disagree-
able to be stopped in the middle of your task because
your thought halts, and you cannot answer the next
question. On the other hand, work becomes a recre-
ation when one result leads certainly and easily to
another.
Three emotions ^^ have, therefore, the three emotions of confused,
of thought. restrained, and unimpeded thought. The last two are
closely related to the emotions of effort and facility.
Correlated with these are the sensations attached to
ease and difiiculty in muscular action. They are gener-
Effort and facii- ^^ present to somc degree in the corresponding
^'^^- emotions, even when the causes of these are wholly
mental. The feeling of effort is a weight which presses
upon the emotional condition ; and its removal is ac-
companied by a sudden feeling of pleasure. This char-
acteristic feeling of relief affects us mainly by way of
contrast to our previous mood.
Special forms of the emotions of unimpeded and re-
Enjoyment and •111 •
tedium. stramed thought are those of enjoyment and tedium.*
In enjoyment our time is so well filled by external or in-
ternal inducements to activity of ideas that we hardly no-
tice its passage, if we do at all. The nature of tedium is
indicated by its name. Our time is unoccupied and
passes slowly because we have nothing else to think of.
* This is the dignified word for " boredness."
Emotion.
237
Tedium, therefore, has a certain affinity to expectation,
but it is an expectation that has remained indefinite. It
does not expect or anticipate any particular occurrence,
but simply waits for new events. A long continued ex-
pectation always passes into tedium, and an intensive
tedium is hardly distinguishable from strained ex-
pectation.
Related to the feelings of effort and facility are those Failure and;
of failure and success. Investigation and discovery are
attended by feelings which show a close resemblance to
those of effort and
facility. The feelings
of agreement and
contradiction are
somewhat different,
They originate in the
comparison of simul-
taneous ideas, whicli
in the one case are
accordant, and in the
other refuse to be con-
nected.
Doubt, which we
can consider as an
oscillatory feeling, is
not the same as con-
tradiction. The
doubter cannot decide
which of two alterna- ^''^- ^''^- ^'^^' doubtful.
lives is the correct one ; he is in contradiction with him-
self The conflicting ideas are nothing real, but simply
products of his own thought, so that there is always
the possibility that the contradiction in doubt may be
Doubt.
238 Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
resolved by experience or more mature considera-
tion ;' and so far doubt is related to the emotions of
the future. This relationship becomes still more ap-
parent in a special form of doubt — the feeling of inde-
cision. When we are undecided we are in contradiction
with ourselves as to which of different roads we shall
follow, or which of different actions we shall choose.
Indecision is therefore a doubt implying reference to
action and resolved by it.
CHAPTER XVIII.
MEMORY.
If I were writing a dictionary I would define memory
as that portion of mental life about which everybody has
been talking for three thousand years without telling us
anything more than anybody of common sense knows
beforehand.
By memory we mean the relation between two ideas ^hat is
occurring at different times, whereby the second is in- ™e'^°''y'
tended to be like the first. In some schools of design
the model is shown for a short time, whereupon the pupils
are required to draw from memory. The original im-
pression, sometimes called the sense-perception, was
that of the model ; the memory-picture is the mental
picture from which the drawing is made. The relation
between the two pictures is what we call memory.
There are numberless entertaining stories concerning
great and peculiar memories, but it is much to be
doubted if anything of any value is gained by repeating
them. Instead of following the beaten path it will be
better to enter at once into the experimental work on
the subject. Facts first, theories afterwards.
Memory can be investigated in two ways: by measur- Methods of
ing the difference of the repeated idea from the original, investigation,
or by counting the number of successfully repeated ideas
out of the total number.
Memory for actions is a good subject to begin with.
239
240
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
Memory for
movement.
Experiment.
Computing the
results.
Average
change.
How accurately does the arm remember a straight
movement? With the eyes closed draw on the first
sheet of a pad of paper a vertical line of any agreeable
length. Without opening the eyes tear off this sheet;
it is very convenient to have the pad fixed firmly to the
table. After waiting five seconds (if you have no tick-
ing clock at hand, some one can tell you the time), with
the eyes still closed draw a second line which you judge
equal to the first. Tear off the sheet as before. After
waiting five seconds again, draw a third line of the same
length as the second (you need not attempt to recall the
first). Continue in this way till eleven lines have been
drawn from memory.
With a millimeter-scale (or a ruler divided into sixty-
fourths of an inch) measure each line. The difference
between each line and its predecessor gives the amount
of error in remembering after the particular five seconds.
Thus, with a line about 100 millimeters long, we might
get a series of errors of — 2, — i, 4- i, — i, 4-2, — i,
— 3, —2, —3, —I, where + indicates that the second
line was too long and — that it was too short.
In memory there are two changes that go on : first,
an actual change in the idea remembered ; and, second,
an increasing uncertainty.
If we average up all the errors, taking into account
the signs, we shall get the average change. Thus, the
average of the set we have just noticed is
— 2— I -fl— 1+2— I— 3— 2— 3— I _ii
10
10
or — I.I
This is the average change introduced by the lapse of
five seconds.
What is the uncertainty of our judgment ? This we
Memory.
241
find by averaging all the separate errors without regard Average
,1 uncertainty.
to Sign ; thus
2 + I+I+I4-2 + I+3+2+3 + I 17
10 ~ 10
= I tV or 1 . 7 "^'".
We would thus say that the average uncertainty intro-
duced by a lapse of five seconds is 1.7"^"^,
By repeating the experiments with an interval of ten ^^ ^n^^rv
seconds, we find the average memory-change and the [nfer!S^^^
average uncertainty due to that interval. Likewise we
can use intervals of fifteen seconds, thirty seconds, one
minute, five minutes, etc.
Simple as such experiments on memory are, there Fundamental
seem to have been only two sets of them, neither of ^^^'
them of any definite value. As the matter is of funda-
mental importance in the study of memory I have had a
set of them made especially for my readers. From the re-
sults the fundamental law of memory can be deduced as
follows : The average change is an individual matter de-
pending
on circum-
stances, but the aver-
age uncertainty in-
creases in a definite
relation to the time.
In learning to write*
by means of a copy-
book the eye gets the
mental image and then, ^'^' '79- a Leaf from Daisy's Copy-book.
looking down, guides the pen. As the distance from
the copy to the line grows larger, the eye has time to
partially forget the exact form of the lines in the copy
(Fig. 179).
The memory for the force of action can be investigated
242
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Memory for
power.
Cross-memory.
Symmetrical
memory.
with the dynamometer, described on page 79. The pull
is executed to any agreeable weight, say ten ounces.
After five seconds it is repeated to apparently the same
weight. The amount of the error is recorded by some
other person. Again after five seconds the pull is re-
peated, and so on. The average change and the aver-
age uncertainty are calculated as before.
Then ten seconds, fifteen seconds, and so on, are used
as intervals. We finally obtain the law of memory for
force. Here, also, there have been no facts to proceed
upon. The results of an investigation lately made show
a rapid increase both of the average change and the
average uncertainty.
The very curious fact of cross-education has been no-
ticed on pages 75, 83, and 112 ; there is also a " cross-
memory."
If the original line in the experiments on page 240 be
drawn with, say, the left hand, it can be remembered
with the right hand.
If the original pull
on the dynamom-
eter be made with
L
R
j>
/Wm^v^^rif^
one hand, it can be
remembered with
the other.
A most curious
fact about this cross-
memory is that the
Fig. 180. Symmetrical and Direct Cross- memory for move-
ments is symmet-
rical and not identical. We learn to write with the
right hand ; when we attempt to write with the left we
succeed fairly well by writing outward (z. e., backward),
J)
OJYfuA /Uxyvzey
Symmetrical and Direct Cross-
memory.
Metnory. 243
just as the right hand wrote outward, but we cannot write
as well in the regular direction. Here are two speci-
mens (Fig. 180). By looking at the words with a mir-
ror it will be seen that with the left hand those written
outward are better than those written inward.
Some experiments, not extended far enough to enable Lawofcross-
1 , . . . . memory.
me to put the law m a quantitative statement, seem to in-
dicate its general forms as follows : The average change
produced by cross-memory is composed of two parts,
that due to the crossing and that due to the interval of
time ; the average uncertainty is always much greater
than in memory without crossing and increases much
more rapidly.
The method used in these experiments was the same as Method of
that used on page 240. The original line was drawn with ^^p^"™^"*-
one hand, and was repeated with the other, alternately
symmetrical and direct. In the particular set of experi-
ments referred to the results were as follows : The
remembered line was, on an average, sixteen per cent
shorter in the sym-
metrical movement
and twenty-four per
L
cent shorter in the — L
direct movement. Fig. iSi. Measurements on Symmetrical and
rr^i Direct Cross-memor\-.
Ihe average uncer-
tainty was nine per cent in the symmetrical and nine
per cent in the direct.
These results can be indicated as in Fig. 181. The
top line is the standard, drawn by the right hand in the
direction of the arrow. The two other lines are averages
of those by the left hand ; the portions in dashes indicate
the regions within which these lines ended. The irregu-
larity is the same for both, but although both movements
244
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
Memory for
tones.
Results.
differ from the standard, the unsymmetrical one is the
less correct of the two.
Memory for tones can be measured in a similar way tO'
that employed on pages 139, 140, in determining the least
noticeable difference. In fact, all the experiments on
the least noticeable difference might be considered as
experiments on memory with a very small interval of
time between the two impressions compared. There
we used an interval of two seconds ; by changing this
interval to five seconds, ten seconds, etc., we get the
record of the size of the least noticeable difference as
depending on the lapse of time. The matter is so sim-
ple that further explanations hardly seem necessary. A
beautiful set of experiments might be performed with the
tone-tester, described on page 141.
The method of percentages of correct answers may
also be employed.
The experiments
described on pages
143, 144 are to be
repeated with differ-
ent intervals.
The results of an
investigation of this
3 5 i no as
Fig. 182.
Law of Forgetting Tones.
kind are shown in
Fig. 182. Here the figures on the horizontal line indi-
cate the number of seconds that elapsed between two
tones to be compared, and those on the vertical line in-
dicate the percentages of right answers.
It is seen that the maximum certainty is reached at
two seconds. Thereafter it decreases. At an interval of
sixty seconds the uncertainty is so great that the answers
are nearly half right and half wrong ; since mere chance
Me^nory.
245
differences.
Memory is no
real process.
would make them half right, the uncertainty is almost
complete.
This is a characteristic case for many unmusical per- individual
sons. Individuals differ, of course. There are intelli-
gent persons who cannot recognize a tone repeated
twice in close succession. On the other hand, we find
Mozart and later piano-players who can carry in mind
the slightest differences. Probably the most accurate
tone-memory on record is that of Mozart. Two days
after playing on a friend's "butter-fiddle " (as he called
it on account of its soft tone), the seven-year-old Mozart,
while playing on his own violin, remarked that the but-
ter-fiddle was tuned to half of a quarter of a tone lower
than his own. And this was found to be the case.
We might make similar experiments on touch, tem-
perature, smell, etc. In fact, memory is no real process;
it is merely a way of considering and comparing two im-
pressions at different times. This is what we did with a
small interval on many occasions in the earlier chapters
of this book. When the interval is so small as to be
negligible we speak of simultaneous impressions.
When a man has no brains to invent methods of exact
measurement he falls back on statistics; and these very
same negative brains assist him in making his statistics
worthless. It is the fashion to collect statistics on mem-
ory, but only two really scientific investigations of this
sort have ever been made.
Numerous sets of calculations of the number of letters
or words forgotten out of the total number seen, heard,
spoken, etc. , have been undertaken. Letters and words
are very complicated affairs, and the results will vary
completely by a slight change in the word, in the ar-
rangement, in the time, in the loudness or illumination,
Statistics on
memory.
Great sources
of error.
246
Thinkings Feelmg^ Doiyig,
Law for mem-
orv of syllables.
Concrete cases.
in the intonation or the size, etc. , etc. The sources of
error are so great that a scientist, /. e. , a careful worker,
must spend years of labor in getting them under control.
The first carefully executed experiments in this line
show that when a set of meaningless syllables has once
been learned, the time required for learning them on a
second occasion increases as the interval between the two
occasions, according to a definite law.
This law runs in the way shown in a specimen table of
results :
Interval . . 0.3 i S.8 24 48 144 744 hours
Per cent of
work re-
quired for
relearning
> 42 56 67 66 72 75 79
At first there is a rapid loss, more than half during the
first hour ; then the loss is steadily less rapid and finally
becomes almost steady. Between the second day and
the thirty-first day there is almost no change.
Further experiments with letters under various condi-
tions of rate, repetition, lapse of time, rhythm, etc.,
have been in progress for many years, but the final re-
sults have not been reached.
Statistical experiments require an immense amount of
labor, and seldom lead to satisfactory results when em-
ployed to determine fundamental laws of mental life.
The case is quite different when the question to be
answered applies to a single concrete case. The ques-
tion of how much the boys of a class have remembered
from the last lesson, twenty-four hours ago, can be
answered with more or less accuracy by an examination.
The determination of a general law of memory in such
a maimer that knowledge of certain circumstances en-
Memory. 247
ables the prediction of how much will be remembered at
any future time is another matter altogether.
The education of the memory powers has ever been a Prodigies of
subject of interest to practical people. More or less
fabulous accounts of the prodigies of memory may be
found in \-arious psychological story-books. Even when
the records of the results obtained are to be credited,
the accounts of how the freaks educated their memories
are mostly to be regarded as unconscious fiction. For
practical purposes statements on the development of
memory should be founded on observation of and ex-
periment on ordinary people.
The fundamental laws for the cultivation of memory Fundamental
are : intensifying the image by attention, and keeping ed^caSng
it ready by conscious repetition. memor>.
In the first place, intensify the impression. See, hear,
do what you wish to remember. You cannot expect to
remember a picture when you have not really seen it.
It is said that the Niirnbergers never hang a man till
they have caught him, and yet many a teacher expects
his pupils to remember a lesson without really learning it.
How shall we intensify the impression ? Any method Methods of in-
that increases the amount of attention will help to in- im"pJession.^^
tensify the impression ; these methods have been con-
sidered in Chapter VII. But it is not sufficient merely
to pay attention ; something further must be done if the
impression is to be retained. No experimental work in
the laboratory has been done on this problem, but some
of the most acute experimenting has been carried on by
advertisers on account of the business interests involved.
The very principles they have discovered are just the
ones we should make use of on ourselves and in teaching
others. I believe that these principles have never been
248
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
First principle.
Second
principle.
formulated and that advertisers follow them unconsciously
— we can walk successfully although we may know noth-
ing about the action of the muscles of the leg.
A powerful principle employed for memorizing a fact
is that of the ridiculous. You cannot forget the absurd
pictures by means of which publishers and players ad-
vertise their new wares ; or Paderewski's hair, whose
echoes lasted longer than those of his playing ; or the
tramp army, whereby ' ' General ' ' Coxey hopes to live
in history.
A subordinate principle belonging to the ridiculous is
THROUGH
that of the pun. A
goodpun is an
aesthetically ridicu-
lous contradiction ;
a bad one is in-
tensely irritating but
is ridiculous ridicu-
lousness. I f y o u
You Can Get **A Hold" wish your class to
On The People T.^^'i '^' 'T
01 Waterloo, make
Fig. 183. Use of the Pun for Memory Purposes. 1 ^ 'a. j
^ a pun about it, and
a bad one, too. (You all know the horrid one to which
I refer. )
A second principle of memorizing is that of rhyme.
We all know how much easier it is to learn rhymed
poetry than blank verse or prose. Rhymed couplets or
verses can frequently be employed to memorize difficult
facts. The farmer's calendars in olden times were based
on the memorial days of the saints. To remember when
the sowing, reaping, etc. , should be done, an appropri-
ate couplet was rhymed with the day. The same method
Memory. 249
is employed In some aids to learning history. Those
who have studied formal logic will remember the medie-
val memory-verse beginning, "Barbara, Celarent," etc.
Students of medicine are required to know the names Combination of
and arrangement of the bones in the hand. Being a principles,
very difficult matter, the German students have been in-
genious enough to make a translation of the Latin names
into an absurd stanza. Over six years ago I happened
to hear this a couple of times ; to-day the lines are still
in memory :
" Vieleckig gross, vieleckig klein,
Der Kopf muss bei dem Haken sein.
Dann schiffen wir beim Mondenschein
Dreieckig iiber's Erbsenbein."
The chief words when translated into Latin give the
names required.
This principle of rhyme when combined with the
ridiculous can be carried so far that couplets and stanzas
cannot be forgotten. Those who have read Mark Twain' s
story about "Punch, Brothers," etc., will remember a
case. Li order to spare a very disagreeable experience
to those who have not been haunted by this stanza, I
will not repeat it.
The principle of alliteration, i. e., of words beginning
with the same sound, was largely used in olden poetry.
Memory was doubtless greatly assisted thereby. It is in
use to a certain extent to-day in book-titles, catch-words, '^^^'^^ pnncipie.
advertisements, etc. Sometimes it is used unintention-
ally. The nation will never forget the famous phrase of
the presidential campaign of 1884, "Rum, Romanism,
and Rebellion."
Another very efficient principle is that of puzzle. Dis- p^inJ-pie.
sected maps, the game of authors, the solution of mathe-
matical conundrums, are cases.
250
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Second law.
Emphasis on
" conscious."
Two methods.
To retain things in memory they should generally be
repeated a number of times. With a very intense first
impression the repetition may be unnecessary ; with weak
impressions it may be frequently required. The relation
of intensity to repetition has, however, never been ex-
perimentally determined.
The fundamental fact to be observed is that the
repetition must be conscious. Nearly everybody sup-
poses that a series of facts, a group of names, a collection
of dates, can be learned by simple mechanical repetition.
It is not too strong to say that ' ' learning by rote " is an
absolute impossibility. We remember the connection
between two words when we pay attention to the fact of
such connection. For example, suppose we wish to re-
member that Aristotle was a tutor to Alexander. The
fact strikes us at once and will have some power of per-
sistence in our memories. Any amount of mechanical
repetition of ' ' Aristotle-tutor- Alexander ' ' will not as-
sist. But let each repetition be a conscious, attentive
connection of the three facts ; there is a distinct gain.
The difficulty lies in making the repetition conscious and
not mechanical.
The methods of doing this may be described as volun-
tary and involuntary. In the voluntary method the in-
dividual calls up each time by an effort of will a char-
acteristic picture of Aristotle teaching Alexander. The
involuntary method consists in finding some word natu-
rally connected with Aristotle which by another natural
connection brings up another word and so on till "teach"
is reached, after which the same process stretches from
' ' teach " to ' 'Alexander. ' ' Teachers of memory-culture,
like Loisette, have made a special application by the
method of searching for a series of connecting associa-
Memory.
251
tions between the two words or facts to be remembered.
The objection made to such associative systems is that Lawofobiitera-
, . , 1 . . , tion of ii>ter-
they are too cumbersome when anythmg is to be re- mediate links,
called. While practicing with one of these systems I
noticed the tendency of the middle links to fall out ; no
matter how many intermediate words were inserted be-
tween " Aristotle " and "teach," after awhile the two
were involuntarily associated, with no thought of the
middle links. This process, which is in harmony with
facts previously discovered concerning the association of
ideas, might be called the obliteration of intermediate
associations.
Like all our mental life, memory depends upon age. Dependence of
In a series of exper-
iments on school
children a tone was
sounded for two sec-
onds, then it was
started again and »/
the child was re-
quired to stop it
when it had lasted as
long as before. In
all cases the second
sound was made too
short ; the younger
children often made
memory on age.
TIME MEMORY.
-BOYS.ANC.aiOS.
BOYS.
.CIRIS
AROHMETlCALJIEAa
the sound by mem- "^ ^ r 1 ?a t » -n n t^ tt
Ory only one fourth ^^- '^^- Dependence of Time-memory on Age.
of its true length. As they grew older, the memory be-
came more accurate.
Concerning the ages above seventeen no experiments Memory and
have been made. We know, however, that old people *^^^ ^^^'
252 Thi7iki7ig, Feelings Doing.
gradually lose their memories. Indeed, we might say
that memory is the ostensible friend who insists upon
presenting us with a house bountifully furnished with the
skeletons of past sins, but who in old age turns us out
into the cold night of forgetf alness when we would gladly
remember even the sins. Memory grows to its prime
and then never gets any further till it suddenly becomes
withered and past.
Definition.
CHAPTER XIX.
RHYTHMIC ACTION.
What is rhythmic action ? Such a hard Greek word
as " rhythm " (alas ! there is no EngHshword) must mean
something very dreadful. Do you remember M. Jour-
dain in Moliere's " Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme, " who
was astounded and delighted to learn that he had been
speaking ' ' prose ' ' all his life ? Well, you have been ex-
ecuting rhythmic actions ever since you began to walk.
By rhythmic action we understand an act repeated at Examples,
intervals which the doer believes to be regular. Walk-
ing is in simple rhythm. The beating of a drum is in-
tended to be in a more or less complicated rhythm.
Let us take a lesson in walking. In order that there
may be no dispute on the subject and that we may
have a permanent record, w^e shall try to arrange matters
so that every step is recorded. While studying action
we learned the principle of graphic
recording by air transmission ; all
we have to do now is to modify
the method so that it records the
movement of walking.
The person experimented on Fig. 185. The Pneumatic
puts on a pair of shoes with hol-
low rubber soles (Fig. 185) which act as receiving cap
sules. Each sole communicates by a long tube with a applied
small capsule that writes on a small smoked drum (Fig
253
Walking.
Graphic method
254
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Results.
Psychology of
walking.
1 86) carried in the hand. When the foot is on the
ground, the air is pressed through the tube to the re-
cording capsule ; this causes it to make a mark on the
drum.
The character of the resuhs is indicated in Fig. 187.
The length of time during which
the foot rests on the ground is in-
dicated by the length of the mark
on the drum. In walking, one foot
leaves the ground just as the other
touches it ; in going upstairs, both
feet touch for a while at the same
time ; in running, both feet are off
the ground for short intervals.
But all this was already known
in sporting circles ? Still, you must
not object to putting a competitor
or even an umpire on record. In
a walking-match a man is ruled out
by the umpires if his method of
progress changes from i to 3 (Fig. 187). What a lot of
quarreling would be saved if every man could carry on his
back a minute instru-
ment telling his walk
in black and white !
The interest of the
physiologist ends ^i^- }?'V Graphic Records : , i , Walking ;
i- J o 2, Going upstairs; 3, Running; 4, Faster
where that of the psy- Running.
chologist begins. The physiologist knows that we walk
with our feet ; the psychologist knows that we walk with
our minds also. We will to walk faster or slower, this
way or that ; how does the execution compare with the
intention ?
Fig. 186. Walking with
Pneumatic Shoes and
Recording Drum.
Rhythmic Action.
255
Marking time.
The method just described was developed for phys-
iological purposes and has not been used for a study of
the psychology of walking, although that could be done
with very little trouble.
For a study of the influence of the mind on walking I Electric shoe.
have devised a little reaction-key for the foot, to be used
with the spark method. This key is shown in Fig. 188.
It is attached to the heel of the shoe ; flexible conduct-
ing cords lead from it to the spark-coil. The spark-coil
is arranged to record on the
drum by making a dot on
the smoked paper. The
rest of the arrangement de-
pends on the particular ques-
tion to be studied.
Mark time ! Left, right,
left, right, etc. The drum
beats rub-a-dub-dub and
Sergeant Merritt at the end
of the line brings his foot
down exactly in time with
the strokes of the drum.
Yes, exactly in time. Ser-
geant Merritt is not an ordinary sergeant ; his is the
crack company of the Seventh Regiment. The whole
world knows that everything is exactly right in that reg-
iment, and nothing short of a stroke of lightning would
convince the sergeant that he is behind time. Let us
try our spark method, which is merely lightning on a
small scale. But before we begin an experiment we
must distrust everything and everybody — even the
drummer. The drummer himself may have something
the matter with him — we will attend to that later — but
Fio-.
Tlie Electric Shoe.
256
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Preparations
for experiment.
at any rate we must use some arrangement for drum-
ming which we have proved to be exact.
The drumming we shall use will be a series of clicks at
exactly equal intervals. To produce the click we use the
graphic chronometer. This is essentially a stop-watch
which makes the fine pointer beat either in seconds or in
fifths of a second. This pointer writes on the smoked
drum. At the same time it breaks an electric current
and makes a click by means of a telegraph sounder.
A foot-key is fastened on one of the sergeant' s heels
and the wires are led to the spark-coil, just as in the case
of the piano-player (Fig. 6). The sergeant' s case is not
that of simple reaction to sound ; he knows, from memory
of time, just when the clicks are coming.
The record on the drum will be like that shown in
Regular re-
tarded action.
Irregular re-
tarded action.
1, I, I. I., I. I, I I I L
Fig. 189. Regular Retarded Rhythm.
Fig. 189. It shows a line drawn by the chronometer
point, on which, at regular intervals representing seconds,
there are side lines denoting the moments of the clicks.
The dots are made by the sparks at the moment the heel
touches the floor.
The sergeant is, alas ! always just about one sixth of a
second behind time. He is very regular about it, too ;
for he is a rather stoHd, unexcitable fellow on whom you
can depend for ' ' getting there, ' ' although he may not
be so lively as another.
When the sergeant saw his record, it worried him into
making an effort at being on time. His second record
was like Fig. 190.
Gained he had not ; on an average he was as much
Rhythmic Action. 257
behind as at lirst. But his nervousness had added a
worse fauh, that of irregularity.
Next to the sergeant comes Corporal Alan Adair, Regular accel-
erated action.
I. 1,1. .1 I. I. I. .1 .1 \
Fig. 190. Irregular Retarded Rhythm.
1 J J I I, J .1 .1 j .1
Fig, 191. Regular Accelerated Rhjrthm.
eager and enthusiastic. He always speaks before he
thinks ; his record shows that in his ardor he gets quite
ahead of the drum (Fig. 191).
We have also in our company a Frenchman, Antoine i^eguiar
Boulanger. His record (Fig. 192) proves to give a good ^^*^°"-
average, but it is very irregular. Antoine, we all know,
is a first-rate fellow, although he is inclined to be very
nervous and excitable.
All the persons tested show records that can be classi-
I. .1 .1 I. I. 1 J .1 I. I.
Fig. 192. Irregular Accurate Rhythm.
L 1 1 J 1 1 1. ] J {
Fig. 193. Regular Accurate Rhythm.
fied on two principles, accuracy and regularity. Accuracy
is the nearness of the general average to the series of
clicks. Regularity is the person's agreement with him- ra^f'iction.'^"'
self A man may be accurate but irregular, like Antoine,
or inaccurate and irregular, like the sergeant when
ner\-ous, or inaccurate but regular, like Alan. Finally,
when the foot comes down always within a small range
258
Thinking, Feeling, Doing*
Computing the
results.
Index of in-
accuracy.
Index of irreg-
ularity.
before and after the click, so that it, on an average, hits
the cUck (Fig. 193) the record is both accurate and
regular. This is the ideal of rhythmic action.
Teachers can readily pick out the very bad cases of
inaccuracy or irregularity among a class of marching
boys. Drill sergeants can tell tales of their raw recruits.
The distance between each two of the checks in the
preceding figures means an interval of one second.
With a fine measure, or even by the eye alone, we can
divide the interval into ten parts, each of which will mean
one tenth of a second. Now, note down how many
tenths of a second the dot is distant from the check ; if
it is ahead of the check, put + in front of it ; if behind,
— . The record in Fig. 190, for example, will be
3> — 4. ~ 2, + I,
3,
I, + I, + 2, o.
Take the average, that is, add them all up and divide by
ten. This gives — i.o tenths of a second as the average
amount by which the foot was behind time. In physics
this is called the constant error ; in psychology — especi-
ally in educational psychology — I propose to call it the
' ' index of inaccuracy.
Now let us find the ' ' index of irregularity, ' ' or, as
physicists call it, the variable error. Find the difference
between the number in the index of inaccuracy, in this
case I, and each of the numbers, 3, 4, 2, i, etc., of the
original records. You will get a second set of ten
figures, 2, 3, I, o, o, 2, o, o, i, i. As you will notice, no
attention has been paid to + and — . Average these
last results ; answer, it, or i.o, of a tenth of a second,
which is the index of irregularity. By chance the two
indexes have the same figures.
A very irregular person might have the same index of
Rhytlunic Action.
259
accuracy as a very regular one ; they might both be one
tenth behind time ; but their indexes of irregularity would
be different. On the other hand, two regular persons
will have small indexes of irregu-
larity, whereas their constant
errors would be quite different.
Now, to attend to the drummer.
Suppose we put into his hand an
electric drum-stick. Every time
that the stick strikes the drum a
spark is made. Since the drum-
mer has no watch to guide him
but judges his time as he pleases,
we do not use any sounder but let
him beat alone. A record can be
made just as before with the
chronometer, and the regularity
can be measured in tenths of a second.
The index of irregularity is of immense importance to
the orchestra leader ; there is no index of inaccuracy,
because he sets his own time. It does not make much
difference just how fast he beats, provided he beats
i^egidarly. To measure the regularity in a case of this
kind an electric contact on the end of a baton can be ar-
ranged by which a spark record is made in the usual
way (Figs. 194, 195).
The time between each record can be measured in
hundredths or thousandths of a second, as desired. Sup-
pose we have a record of eleven beats measured to hun-
dredths of a second with the following results : 41, 42,
37' 4i> 39' 4O' 40. 40> 4I' 38' 41- The average time of a
beat is just 40. How regular is the beating ? This is
determined by finding the difference between each sepa-
Fig. 194. The Electric Baton.
Experiments on
the drummer.
The orchestra
leader.
Example.
26o
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Fig- 195. Taking an Orchestra Leader's Record with the Electric Baton.
rate beat and the average, and taking the average of
these differences. Thus :
The index of irregu-
larity is i.i^'.
41
I
42
2
37
■^
41
I
39
I
40
40
40
41
I
38
2
41
I
II 440
11 12
40
I.I
Rhythmic Action. 261
Now let us take ajiother orchestra leader whose record An irregular
gives 40, 41, 42, 40, 39, 37, 35, 40, 41, 41, 38 ; which
is the better man ? The average is 40 as before, but the
index of irregularity is i . 8 as compared with i . i .
Suppose we have a third leader from whom we get the a regular
ten records : 40, 39, 40, 40, 39, 38, 39, 39, 39, 39. The
average is 39.2, and the index of irregularity is less than
0.5.
It is evident that the second leader beats so irregularly
that an orchestra cannot possibly keep time, that the
first leader is somewhat better, and that the third is far
superior to the others. The actual average time of a beat
makes no difference within such small limits, as music
played at the rate of one beat in 0.40 seconds is not sen-
' sibly different from that played at one beat in o. 39 sec-
onds. An essential qualification, however, for the suc-
cess of an orchestra leader is his regularity in estimating
intervals of time.
Another example similar to the one just mentioned is piano-piaying.
that of a piano-player, who must learn to strike the notes
at regular intervals. The quarter-notes should all be
about the same length ; equal measures should be com-
pleted in equal times. For most beginners the irregu-
larity in the time given to successive measures varies to
such an extent that it is painful to hear them attempt a
tune. By practice with the metronome successful play-
ers are able to reduce their irregularity till it does not
disturb the playing. It is not known just how far this
may be carried, as no one has ever taken the trouble to
make measurements. It might be suggested, however,
that, even when the irregularity is so small that no one
notices it, yet it may be great enough to injure the ef-
fect. A successful musician of anv kind should know
262
Thinking , Feeling, Doing.
Dumb-bell
exercises.
not only that his instrument is in tune but also that he
himself is in time.
The rhythmical exercises with dumb bells are the ex-
pression of an instinctive desire of the gymnast to culti-
vate his accuracy and regularity of action. To make the
measurements a flexible wire is inserted into the handle
of each of a pair of iron dumb bells and is connected
with the spark-coil so that when the metal ends are struck
together a spark is made. Front and back movements
Fig. 196. Taking a Record with Electric Dumb Bells.
Final analysis
of rhythmic
action.
(or the rataplan) are well adapted to measurements.
What is rhythmic action ? The process in the mind
of the one who is acting is in the first place an estimate
of equal intervals of time ; after a few strokes at equal
intervals the person knows just when to expect the next
Rhythmic Action. 263
one. In other words, it is a case of time-memory cor-
rected by an actual stroke each time. Knowing when
to expect the next stroke, an act of will is executed so
that the final action occurs in some definite relation to
the stroke, generally at the same moment or just after
it. This process might be called a reaction to an ex-
pectation. In extreme cases the act of will may be so
late that the action seems actually a reaction to each
stroke. This would be the case with the sergeant.
In some cases of congregational singing the leader keeps
about a quarter of a second ahead of the congregation,
implying that they are incapable of singing the tune and
must rely on reaction to each note as heard. Such re-
actions are, however, so complex that this method could
hardly be of use unless the leader is very far ahead.
CHAPTER XX.
SUGGESTION AND EXPECTATION.
A suggestion
from the time
of dav.
Originated by
associations.
In his memoirs Robert-Houdin begins with a de-
scription of the effects of suggestion from the time of
day.
" Eight o'clock has just struck : my wife and children
are by my side. I have spent one of those pleasant
days which tranquillity, work, and study can alone se-
cure — ^with no regret for the past, with no fear for the
future, I am — I am not afraid to say it — as happy as
man can be.
' ' And yet, at each vibration of this mysterious hour,
my pulse starts, my temples throb, and I can scarce
breathe, so much do I feel the want of air and motion.
I can reply to no questions, so thoroughly am I lost in
a strange and delirious reverie.
*' Shall I confess to you, reader? And why not? for
this electrical effect is not of a nature to be easily under-
stood by you. The reason for my emotion being ex-
treme at this moment is that, during my professional
career, eight o'clock was the moment when I must ap-
pear before the public. Then, with my eye eagerly
fixed on the hole in the curtain, I surveyed with intense
pleasure the crowd that flocked in to see me. Then, as
now, my heart beat, for I was proud and happy of such
success.
"Do you now understand, reader, all the reminis-
264
S2(ggcstio)i and Expectation. 265
cences this hour evokes in me, and the solemn feeUng
that continually occurs to me when the clock strikes ?' '
The effect of suggestion — what has not been included vague use of
under this term ! According to some of the hypnotismus ^'^^^^''"^•
"psychologists," all mental life from the simplest im-
pressions of the senses up to the highest creations of art
and social life — all is nothing but suggestion.
Volumes upon volumes have been written on hypno- Errors of the
tism and suggestion ; indeed, the list of works itself fills ps^,?c^o°o!^"'"^"
a volume with over 2,000 titles. But at the end of it all,
what have we besides careless observation, vague guess-
work, and endless speculation ? It is all on the level of
the old psychology, not an experiment in it.
Perhaps the most curious point in the case is that
among the hypnotism dilettants, the mesmeric mysticists,
and the long-winded double-consciousness researchers
there is actually a society for experimental (!) psychol-
ogy. Most of these people ha^■e duped themselves into
the belief that they are contributing to science ; this
ceases to be self-delusion and becomes deliberate swindle
when they mislead the public by calling their inanities by
the term ' ' experiment.
But why should it not be possible to experiment on possibility of
suggestion ? Why should it not be possible to actually ouTuggestion.
measure a suggestion and its effects ? It is possible.
As in all new undertakings, the way was hard to find ;
our attempts have cost endless thought and labor, and
we have a choice collection of failures as mementos.
But when we have found the way, it seems strange that
we and everybody else were so blind as not to see it long
ago.
Yet, not too much must be expected. The method ^^j^^^ ^^^ been
by which we have measured the suggesti\'e effects of size accomplished.
266
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
The suggestion
blocks.
on weight will be explained and the results will be given.
This will serve to give a general idea of one of our
methods. What I cannot do here is, to give an account
of the extended researches on suggestion and hallucina-
tion that have been carried on in my laboratory during
the last two years.
We have found the
way to measure in
so many candle-
power a suggestive
effect of sight, we
can produce hallu-
cinations of tones
that are equal in in-
tensity to real tones
whose physical en-
ergy can be meas-
ured, we can cause
Producing an Hallucination of Warmth. - ,. .
a person by walkmg
a certain number of feet to see a spot where there is
none. These experiments have been ably and patiently
executed under my
o
'O
65
15 20 25 30 35 40 45
directions by one of
my pupils, but it is
the rule for such in-
vestigations to ap-
pear first in the
' ' Studies from the
Yale Psychological
Laboratory. ' '
Here is a series
of round blocks
painted black ; in appearance they are all just alike, but
50
Fig.
55 60 65 70 75 80
. Blocks for Measuring the Effect of
a Suggestion of Size.
Suggestion and Expectation.
267
Making the ex-
periment.
How much ?
in weight they are different. This block Z> is a very big
block ; pick out that one of the series which appears of
the same weight as the big one, when lifted between
thumb and finger. You know nothing about the blocks
except that, to the best of your belief, the big one is of
the same weight as the medium-sized one. Put them on
the scales ; down goes the big one, you judged it to be
much lighter than it was. Try it over again as often as
you please ; always the same result. By means of the
scales find the medium one that weighs exactly the same
as the large one. Then compare them by lifting ; noth-
ing but the incontestable evidence of the scales will
make you believe they are the same. After being
familiar with the experiment for over a year I still find
the effect almost as strong as at first.
But how much ? It is not sufficient to show that there
is a suggestive effect, you must measure it. The differ-
ence in weight between the two blocks supposed to be
equal gives the effect of suggestion in just so many
ounces or grams.
In a set of experiments carried out on school children Experiments on
the medium-sized blocks were graded in weight from 15
grams to 80 grams. A large block D and a small block dy
each of 55 grams, were successively compared with the
set of graded blocks. The difference between the
weight picked out for the larger one, e. g. , 20 grams,
and that for the smaller one, e. g.^ 70 grams, would
give the effect of the difference in size between the two
blocks. The difference in weight in this example would
be 50 grams, which would be the result of the difference
of six centimeters in the diameter of the blocks.
The effect of the suggestion depends upon the age.
The results for the New Haven school children are indi-
school children.
Dependence on
age.
268
Thinkijig, Feeling, Doing.
Dependence
on sex.
Extreme cases.
cated in Fig. 199. The figures at the bottom indicate
the ages ; those at the left the number of grams in the
effect of suggestion.
About 100 children of each age from 6 to 17 were
taken. The average effect of the suggestion was as fol-
lows : 6 years, 42 grams ; 7 years, 45 grams ; 8 years,
48 grams ; 9 years, 50 grams ; 10 years, 44 grams ; 11
and 12 years, 40 grams ; 13 years, 38 grams ; 14 to 16
years, 35 grams ; 17 years, 27 grams
Ai
For all ages the
;^-'
3f
Sl/CCESTiOW.
'2 y F 7 72 T/ 75 Tjf 77 7? 7t~
Fig. 199. Dependence of the Effect of Suggestion on Age and Sex.
^7
average was above twenty-five grams. The suggesti-
bility slowly increases from six years to nine years ; after
nine years it steadily decreases as the children grow
older. The results, when separately calculated for boys
and girls, show that at all ages the girls were more sus-
ceptible to suggestion than the boys, with the exception
of the age nine, where both were extremely susceptible.
These are the average results for large numbers of
children. Many young people, however, were so sus-
ceptible that the set of middle-sized blocks did not range
far enough to suit them. At the age of seven years 37 per
cent of the children declared that the large block was
lighter than the lightest block, and that the small block
Suggestion and Expectation. 269
was heavier than the heaviest. The actual difference be-
tween them was 65 grams ; thus the effect of suggestion
was more than the weight of the suggesting blocks D
and d.
The factors that produce such a deception of judg- Factors in the
ment seem to consist in a suggestion — or, rather, a dis- siS^^^^"^" ^™"^
appointed suggestion — of weight. Big things are, of
course, heavier than little things of exactly the same
kind. When we find two things of the same appear-
ance but differing in size, the big thing must be heavier.
This reasoning is all done without our suspecting it, and
we unconsciously allow our judgment of weight to be in-
fluenced by the size as seen. When the eyes are closed
and the blocks are lifted by strings, of course there is
no illusion.
Which is the heavier, a pound of lead or a pound of a pound of lead
feathers ? A pound of lead, says the unsuspecting per- feathe?s°"" °
son, and then you guy him for his stupidity. But this
poor fellow, who has been laughed at for centuries, is
right. A pound isn't a pound all the world over ; it all
depends on how the pound looks. A pound of lead is
heavier than a pound of feathers. Try it with a pillow
and a piece of lead pipe. No matter if the scales do say
that they weigh just the same, the pound of lead is much
the heavier as long as you look at it.
In the preceding case we have had a suggestion from froSfthespanof
sight alone. Similar effects are produced by differences ^^^ fingers,
in the span of the fingers. Suppose we have all our
blocks of exactly the same diameter. We have one set
just alike in size but differing in weight, and other
blocks of just the same diameter and weight but differ-
ing in length, one being very long and the other very
short. The experiments are made in the same way as
270
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Suggestion by
movements :
by gesture ;
by expression of
the face.
Irresistible
suggestions.
before except that the eyes are closed. The suggestion
arises from the difference in span of the fingers for a
long block and a short one. By looking at the blocks
with the eyes open, a sight-suggestion is added to the
muscular suggestion.
In the preceding cases it has been noticed how a
suggestion causes a change in judgment ; there is an-
other field in which suggestion is very active, namely,
the suggestion of movement. While a person is exert-
ing his whole power on a dynamometer (page 83),
let him observe contracting movements of your hand.
He soon feels irresistible twitchings in his own hand and
actually exerts still more force.
The suggestion of movement may even take effect
against the will of the person concerned. A child in
school with the Vitus dance will sometimes be invol-
untarily imitated by the others. A contagion of this
kind that occurs in every-day life is the effect of gaping.
The orator and the actor make use of expressions and
gestures intended to arouse similar impulses in their
hearers and consequently to make their ideas more
effective.
On the other hand, if you wish to get at the thoughts
of a person with whom you are speaking, you should
look steadily at his face. His expression cannot help
changing, and these changes produce similar changes in
your own face, thereby awakening various emotions of
doubt, confidence, anxiety, etc. This was an art of
old-time diplomacy. The readiness of women to read
characters in this way may be due to their greater
susceptibility to suggestion.
Every idea of a movement brings an impulse to move-
ment. This is especially prominent in those rare indi-
Suggestion and Expe elation.
271
viduals who cannot keep a secret. The very reading and
thinking about crimes and scandalous actions produce a
tendency to commit them. In some persons this in-
fluence is quite irresistible. As soon as one bomb-
thrower attacks a rich banker, everybody knows that
within a week half a dozen others will do the same. No
sooner does one person commit suicide in such a way
that it is strikingly described in the newspapers, than a
dozen others go and do likewise.
A runner, prepared to start, can often cause the
starter to fire his pistol unintentionally by starting to
run. This runner is ahead of the starter by the amount
of the starter's reaction-time, while the other runners are
behind the starter by the amounts of their own reaction-
times. As the reaction-time may readily amount to one
third of a second, the runner who relied on the sugges-
tion may gain by a large fraction of a second.
Thus we have gathered a few facts on suggestibility
by experiment. The full significance of suggestibility is
apparent when we remember that teaching, preaching,
acting, public speaking, and pleading are forms of sug-
gesting. The freaks of hypnotism are performed by
suggestion. The faith-cures and the miraculous effects
of the Grotto of Lourdes are benevolent suggestions.
The ceremonials of our churches are suggestions bring-
ing us into a religious frame of mind. The manipu-
lations of the spiritualists and the monotonous blackness
of a funeral are all forms of suggestion. How shall we
develop the children so as to produce in them minds
well balanced in respect to suggestion ? Is this not as
important a task as learning to do percentage of to
parse a sentence ? Here is a field where the educator
and the psychologist must seek for facts.
The runner's
trick of
suggestion.
Significance of
suggestibility.
272
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Suggestive ex-
pectation.
Effect on re-
action-time.
Different direc-
tion ofattention.
Effect in astro-
nomical
records.
Passage of a
star.
Method of re-
cording.
In expecting an event we have some thought in mind ;
this thought often acts as a suggestion.
The time of reaction depends on its expectedness ;
unexpected events require in general more time and
produce very irregular results. It is customary to
give a warning click about two seconds before an ex-
periment. Experiments on one person give a reaction
time of 305 without warning and 188 with warning.
It also makes a difference if the attention is directed
to the stimulus expected or to the movement to be exe-
cuted. In general the latter method is quicker, but
with some persons the reverse is the case. Experiments
made on one subject give as reaction-time to sound the
result 216 when the attention was directed toward the
expected sound, and 127 when it was directed toward the
finger to be moved.
The expectation that a star will pass one of the hair-
lines in a telescope produces differences in regard to the
time of its passage as actually recorded. This phenome-
non, which led to the discovery of mental times, is more
complicated than the simple cases of reaction-time and
thinking-time that we have considered in Chapters III.
and IV.
Let me illustrate how this happens by a simple case.
Suppose that we have to determine the time of the
passage of a star at some distance from the pole across
the meridian. We may employ an old astronomical
method which is still sometimes used for time-de-
terminations, and which is called the "eye and ear
method." A little before the time of the expected
passage, the astronomer sets his telescope, in the eye-
piece of which there have been fixed a number of
clearly visible vertical threads, in such a way that the
Suggestion a?id Expeciatioyi. 273
middle thread exactly coincides with the meridian of the
part of the sky under observation. Before looking
through the instrument, he notes the time by the as-
tronomical clock at his side, and then goes on counting
the pendulum-beats while he follows the movement of
the star.
Now the time-determination would be very simple if a
pendulum-beat came at the precise moment at which the
star crosses the middle thread. But that, of course,
happens only occasionally and by chance ; as a rule, the
passage occurs in the interval between two beats. To
ascertain the exact time of the passage, therefore, it is
necessary to determine how much time has elapsed be-
tween the last beat before the passage and the passage
itself, and to add this time — some fraction of a second —
to the time of the last beat. The observer notes, there-
fore, the position of the star at the beat directly before
its passage across the middle thread, and also its posi-
tion at the beat which comes immediately after the pas-
sage, and then divides the time according to the length
of space traversed.
If y (Fig. 200) is the middle thread of the telescope,
a the position of the star at the first beat, and b at the
second, and if af \s, e.g., twice as long 2iS fb, there
Estimation of
fractions of a
second.
Influence of the
observer's
attention.
Fie:. 200.
a f b
Actual Positions of the Star at the Pendulum-beats.
must be added - 3 of a second to the last counted second.
It has already been told (page 40) how the astrono-
mers disagree in their records although the star would
have the same position for all. A constant and reg-
ular difference, such as this actually is, can be ex-
274
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Visual
attention.
Auditory
attention.
plained on the assumption that the objective times of the
actual events and the times of their notice by the ob-
server are not identical, and that these times show a fur-
ther difference from one another according to the individ-
ual observer. Now, attention will obviously exercise a
decisive influence upon the direction and magnitude of
such individual variations. Suppose that one observer
is attending more closely to the visual impression of the
star. A relatively longer time will elapse before he notices
the sound of the pendulum-beat. If, therefore, the real
position of the star is a at the first beat and b at the
second (Fig. 201) the sound will possibly not be noticed
till c and d, so that these appear to be the two po-
sitions of the star. If ac and bd are each of them Yz
of a second, the passage of the star is plainly put Yz of
a second later than it really should be.
On the other hand, if the attention is concentrated prin-
cipally on the pendulum-beats, it will be fully ready and
a c f b d
Fig. 201. Supposed Positions with Visual Attention.
properly adjusted for these, coming as they do in regular
succession, before they actually enter consciousness.
Hence it may happen that the beat of the pendulum
is associated with some point of time earlier than the
exact moment of the star's passage across the meridian.
,. |..
c a f d b
Fig. 202. Supposed Positions with Auditory Attention.
In this case you hear too early, so to speak, just as in
the other case you heard too late. The positions c and
d (Fig. 202) are now inversely related to a and b. \ica
Suggestion and Expectation. 275
and db are, say, f of a second, the passage is put f of
a second earlier than it really occurs. If we imagine
that one of two astronomers observes on the scheme of
Fig. 201, the other on that of Fig. 202 — in other
words, that the attention of the one is predominantly
visual, that of the other predominantly auditory — there
will be a constant personal difference between them
of i + f = f of a second. You can also see that Difference in
smaller differences will appear where the manner of
observing is the same in both cases but with differences
in the degree of the strain of the attention ; while larger
differences must point to differences like those just de-
scribed, in the direction of the attention.
attention.
System of
psychology.
Absurdity of
anybody's
" system."
Early
psychology.
Plato.
Aristotle.
CHAPTER XXI.
MATERIALISM AND SPIRITUALISM IN PSYCHOLOGY.
In the good old days, now happily gone forever,
when psychology belonged to philosophy, we were accus-
tomed to hear of materialistic psychology, spiritualistic
psychology, the psychology of Hamilton, the psychol-
ogy of Hegel, English psychology, German psychology,
etc., etc.
Nowadays it is just as absurd to speak of anybody's
system of psychology as to speak of anybody's system
of chemistry. There is one science of chemistry to
which all scientific chemists are contributors ; there is one
science of psychology which all scientific psychologists
make their humble efforts to develop. How this has
come about I am going to tell by translating a few pages
from Wundt's " Vorlesungen liber Menschen und Thier-
seele."^
' ' The earliest psychology is materialism. The soul is
air or fire or an ether ; it remains, however, material,
notwithstanding the efforts to lighten and thereby to
spiritualize the matter. Among the Greeks it was Plato
who first freed the soul from the body, whereby he made
it the ruling principle of the latter. He thus opened the
path for the one-sided dualism which regarded sensory
existence as the contamination and degradation of a
purely mental being. Aristotle, who united a wonder-
* The whole work has been translated and published under the title,
" Lectures in Human and Animal Psychology."
276
Materialism and Spirititalism in Psychology. 277
ful sharpness of observation to his gift of speculation, Aristotelian
sought to soften this contrast by infusing the soul into psychology,
matter as the vivifying and constructive principle. In
the animals, in the expression of the human form in re-
pose and motion, even in nourishment and growth, he
saw direct effects of mental forces, and he drew the gen-
eral conclusion that the soul brings forth all organic form
just as the artist forms the block of marble. Life and
soul were for him the same ; even the plant had a soul.
Yet, Aristotle, like no one before him, had studied into
the depths of his own consciousness. In his work on
the soul, the first book treating psychology as an Inde-
pendent science, we find the fundamental processes care-
fully distinguished and — as far as possible in his time —
explained as to their relations.
' ' The Aristotelian psychology, and especially its fun- Middle Ages.
damental principle that the soul is the principle of life,
governed the whole of the Middle Ages. At the begin-
ning of modern times here, as in other subjects, a return
to the Platonic views began to weaken its power. Soon pia\onlsm
a new influence was associated : the revival of the modern
natural sciences and the mechanical views of the world
which they spread abroad. The result of the conflict was
the birth of two fundamental views in psychology which
down to the present day have fought each other in the
field of science : spiritualism and materialism. Strange
to say, the very same man was of primary importance for Descartes as a
the development of both. Descartes, no less great as ^^^"
mathematician than as philosopher, defined, in oppo-
sition to the Aristotelian psychology, the soul exclu-
sively as a thinking being ; and, following the Platonic
views, he ascribed to it an existence, originally apart
firom the body, whence it derived as permanent property
278
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
Later spiritual-
ism.
Descartes as a
materialist.
Later material-
ism.
all those ideas which go beyond sensory experience.
Itself occupying no space, this soul was connected with
the body at one point of the brain, in order to receive
the influences from the outer world and in its turn to ex-
ercise its influence on the body. ' '
The later spiritualism advanced but little beyond this
theory of Descartes. Its last great representative was
Herbart. He developed in thoroughly logical manner
the idea of a simple soul substance, according to Des-
cartes. Herbart was of very great service to the new psy-
chology in a certain way, and we shall say something about
his work later (page 284), but his spiritualistic psychol-
ogy was a total failure. His attempts at deducing the
facts of mental life from the idea of a simple soul and its
relations to other beings, proved fruitless. His efforts
showed more clearly than anything else could do that this
pathway was an impossible one for psychology. The
idea of a simple soul substance had not been derived from
actual observations of mental life but had been arbitrarily
and unreasonably asserted ; the facts were to be forced
to fit.
Descartes contributed to the development of modern
materialism in two ways, by his strictly mechanical view
of nature in general and by his treatment of animals as
automats. Man alone had a mind ; animals were ma-
chines. But if the many evidences of thinking, feeling,
and willing among animals can be explained physiologi-
cally, why cannot the same explanation be used for man ?
This was the starting-point for the materialism of the
seventeenth century.
For materialism all facts of thinking, feeling, and
doing are products of certain organs in the nervous sys-
tem. Any observation of the facts of mind is valueless
mind.'
ity.
Materialism and Spiritualism in Psychology. 279
until such facts can be explained by chemical and physi-
cal processes. Thinking is a production of the brain. " chemistry of
Since this process stops when the circulation of the blood
.stops and life ceases, therefore thought is nothing but an
accompaniment of the materials of which the brain is
composed.
Down to the present day modern materialism has its impossibii-
not gotten beyond this point — mental life is a product
of the brain ; psychology is merely physiology of the
brain. Our feelings, thoughts, and acts of will, however,
cannot be observed as all phenomena of nature have been
observed. We can hear the word that expresses a
thought, we can see the man who formed it, we can dis-
sect the brain that thought it ; but the word, the man,
the brain — these were not the thought. A feeling of
anger is accompanied by an increase of blood in the
brain ; but no matter how minute our knowledge of the
chemical processes between the blood and the brain sub-
stance may be, we know that we can never find out the
chemistry of anger.
But, says materialism, these material processes may « Brain pro-
not be the thoughts, yet they produce them. Just as the
liver produces bile, just as the contraction of muscle
causes motion, so are our ideas and emotions produced
by blood and brain, by heat and electricity. Yet a very
important difference has been overlooked. We can
show how the bile is produced by chemical processes in
the liver ; we can show how the movement is the result
of chemical processes in the muscle ; but brain processes
give us no information of the way thoughts are produced.
We can understand how one bodily movement produces
another movement, how one emotion or sensation
changes to another emotion or sensation ; but how a
duces mind."
Its absurdity.
terialism.
280 Thinking, Feelifig, Doing.
motion of molecules or a chemical process can produce
an emotion is what no system of mechanics can make
clear.
Revised ma- Thcsc vagarics of materialism have called attention to
the study of the relations between mind and brain, and
we have had ' ' mental physiologies, ' ' even from those
who are not materialists. The study of what happens in
the brain or in any part of the body when we are angry,
or when we think of an apple, is, of course, an immensely
valuable thing. The absurdity arises when it is asserted
that every mental fact is merely an appendix to some
brain process ; that, for example, we do not feel merry
at the thought of a joke, but that certain chemical
processes in the brain produced the thought of the joke
and at the same time set going other chemical processes
that produced the merry feeling. There are many vol-
umes of so-called ' ' psychology ' ' in which each mental
process is translated into some imaginary (for we have no
facts on the subject) movement of brain molecules,
which in some imaginary fashion sets up another imagi-
nary movement, which is translated into a second mental
process that really followed the first one according to a
simple psychological law.
But the strife between spiritualism and materialism is
the \yhofe dis- almost passcd. " It has left no contribution to science,
and no one who carefully examines the subject of the
strife can wonder at such a result. For what was the
central point of the battle of opinions ? About nothing
else than the questions concerning the soul, its seat, its
connection with the body. Materialism here fell into the
same fault as spiritualism. Instead of beginning upon
the facts that were observed and investigating their rela-
tions, it busied itself with metaphysical questions for
Fruitlessness of
the who
cussion.
MaterialisTn and Spiritualisjn in Psychology. 281
Mistake of
which answers can be found only — if ever — through a
completely unprejudiced — i. e.^ at the start free from
every metaphysical supposition — investigation of the facts
of experience. ' '
Starting from entirely different points of view, both
spiritualism and materialism have landed in utterly fruit- "method.
less suppositions. The reason therefor lay in the meth-
ods which they employed. To suppose that anything
could be gained by vague speculation on mental life was
folly equaled only by the belief that dissecting brains
would lead to a knowledge of mind. Both parties for-
got one point — namely, to examine the facts of mind
itself
It is this forgotten duty that led to the new psychology
— a psychology of fact. This psychology of mental life, choiogy.
this science of direct investigation of our thinking, feel-
ing, and doing, is neither spiritualism nor materialism ;
it has no speculations of either kind to offer. It confines
itself strictly to the domain of fact. As long as they can
set themselves in harmony with the facts, the Hegelian
philosopher and the Feuerbachian materialist have equal
rights. When they go beyond the facts, they may settle
the question between them ; the new psychology is very
thankful that it has nothing to do with either.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE NEW PSYCHOLOGY.
Psychology is
the science of
thinking, feel-
ing, doing.
The new
method of in-
vestigation.
The facts we have been considering in this book have
been facts of mind, not of the physical world. The
beautiful colors we see are — the physicists tell us — only
vibrations of ether ; the physical world has no color, the
colors exist only when we are present. Physical vibra-
tions of the air are to us tones. Certain mechanical
movements are to us pressures. Feelings and, will-im-
pulses may betray themselves by movements or other-
wise ; in themselves they are mental facts. In short, we
may say that all the facts, as we know them, are mental,
facts. The science of these facts is psychology.
But what is the new psychology ? The new psychol-
ogy is entitled to its special adjective because it employs
a method new in the history of psychology, although not
new in the history of science.
The old psychologist, like Locke, Hamilton, and
many of the present day, sits at his desk and writes vol-
umes of vague observation, endless speculation, and flimsy
guesswork. The psychologist of the new dispensation
must see every statement proven by experiment and
measurement before he will commit himself in regard to
it. Every alleged fact, every statement, must be brought
as evidence — sworn to by the Eternal Truth under pen-
alty of scientific disgrace — before the Court of Reason.
The difference between the old and* the new is not one
2S2
The New Psychology. 283
of material ; the subject is the same for both, namely, the Difference be-
facts of mind. The difference lies in the carefulness an?th?new^
with which the information in regard to these phenomena
is obtained. Instead of careless observation and guess-
work the utmost care and self-sacrificing labor are ex-
pended in the laboratory in order to obtain single facts.
This method of careful, scientific work is unintelligible xhenewpsy-
to the men of the old school. The method of experi- ciare? to^be a
ment ' ' taxes patience to the utmost ' ' and ' ' could hardly " ^°''^-"
have arisen in a country whose natives could be boiled. ' '
Just as the schoolmen of long ago were busy in specula-
ting on such questions as, ' * How many angels could
dance on the point of a needle ?' ' so these men write
volumes about the J\Ie. the Unity of Consciousness, the
Consciousness of Identity, etc. It never occurs to them
that the world might ask, ' ' Well, what of it ? " Sup-
pose you have proved that 19^ angels can dance on the
aforesaid needle. Well, what of it ? Suppose you have
settled to your satisfaction that consciousness is a unity,
is double, or is anything else you please. Well, what of
it ? When you have wTitten your 500 or i , 000 pages
on these subjects, is the world any better off? have you
contributed one single fact to the advance of science and
humanity ? While you were up in the clouds specula-
ting, we were hungering, dying for the lack of informa-
tion on the most vital questions. Have you no thought,
no suggestion as to how we may grow better ourselves
and educate our children to a better life ?
A\^ho are the men to whom we owe the regeneration ? p^ ^.j^oio^ ^^
Of course, the psychological awakening is only a part of ^^'^^ ^'■^^•
the great movement by w^hich many of the sciences have
successively emerged from the scholasticism of the
Middle Ages. Mathematics, physics, chemistry, biol-
284
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
English psy-
chology.
German psy-
chology'.
Herbart.
ogy, and others are now free and fruitful sciences ; psy-
chology has just joined the group, leaving education,
logic, and aesthetics for some future generation.
Sir William Hamilton is the one to whom we must
look back as having vindicated the right to build psy-
chology upon observations and not to deduce it from
philosophical prejudices. Since his time English psy-
chology has been nominally empirical {i. e., founded on
experience), but actually merely a collection of vague
observations as the basis of endless discussion.
In Germany the natural revolt from the dull scholasti-
cism of the psychol-
ogy of Wolff and the
mad speculation of
Schelling was led by
Herbart.
The philosopher,
psychologist, and ed-
ucator, Herbart, was
born in 1776. Hebe-
came professor of
philosophy at Got-
tingen ; later he suc-
ceeded Kant as pro-
fessor of philosophy
in Konigsberg, where
he died in 1841. He
is best known for his
works on education ;
these being founded on his psychology, have led
educational people to adopt the Herbartian psychol-
ogy with the Herbartian pedagogy. The Herbartian
pedagogy, with the improvements of its followers, is, to-
Fig. 203. Johann Friedrich Herbart.
The New Psychology. 285
day, perhaps the best system and guide that we have.
To Herbart as a psychologist we also owe a debt, positive service
The old faculty-psychology, with Its groundless and end- ° Herbart.
less speculation, aroused his ire ; he set about producing
a new psychology. In the first place, he determined to
start from the facts as he observed them in his own mind ;
this was in itself a great step. You have probably
heard of the medieval student who, at the time when the
disco\'ery of spots on the sun began to be talked about,
called the attention of his old instructor to them. The
reply was: " There can be no spots on the sun, for I have
read Aristotle' s works from beginning to end and he says
the sun is incorruptible. Clean your lenses, and if the
spots are not in the telescope, they must be in your
eye."
Alas ! there are to-day so-called psychologists who
write volumes full of what Locke said, what Hamilton's
opinion was, what Reid thought, what Hume believed,
without ever dreaming of asking what the facts are.
This debt we owe to Herbart is a great one ; the other Negative serv-
debt w^e owe him is for a different reason. Mathematics, i^e of Herbart.
we all know, is the fostering mother of the sciences.
What was more natural than to place poor, disreputable
psychology in her care? This is what Herbart at-
tempted. On the basis of his observations he proceeded
to build up his mathematics of ideas. His results are
very curious ; for example, if you have an idea in your
mind and another one wishes to get in, there occurs a
strife between them and they press against each other
with a force proportional to — ==v. Oi course, the Algebraic foiiy.
whole thing was utterly absurd. Mathematics makes
use of symbols for quantities ; when you speak of a dis-
286
Thinkings Feeling, Doing.
How to make
mathematics
applicable.
Herbart and
Fechner.
New psychol-
ogy is a devel-
opment.
tance /, you mean just so many inches or centimeters or
miles ; t represents a number. But when Herbart speaks
of an idea with the intensity a, there is no method of
giving any quantitative indication of how great this in-
tensity is ; he knows of no measure of intensity, and his
use of symbols is absolutely meaningless. No mathe-
matician would ever dream of such folly. The second
debt we owe to Herbart is, then, that of a warning ex-
ample against unfounded speculation. Herbart revolted
against metaphysical speculation, but fell into a kind of
mathematical speculation that was no less metaphysical.
But if all that was lacking was merely the quantitative
expression for psychological facts, why not get to work
and measure them, just as in astronomy and physics ?
But how ? How can we measure the intensity or a pain,
or the time of thought, or the extent of touch ? The
matter seems really incomprehensible.
One of the surest ways of being put in the wrong is to'
say that something can never be done. Comte, the
philosopher, once said that it would be forever impos-
sible to tell the composition of the stars ; forty-three
years later the use of the spectroscope enabled astrono-
mers to analyze each one. Herbart declared that
* ' psychology must not experiment with man ; and instru-
ments thereto do not exist " ; in another place he asserts
that * ' psychological quantities are not presented in such
a way that they can be measured ; they allow only an
incomplete estimate." Nineteen years later Fechner
published his great work on psychophysics, in which he
showed how to experiment on mental processes and
measure psychological facts.
Other influences had been tending toward the develop-
ment of psychology, and, although Fechner was the
The New Psychology,
287
first really to start the new psychology, he is only the
logical outcome of the progress of thought in other
lines.
Both the physicist and the physiologist frequently come influence of
to problems where mental life is involved. Physicists physioLgJ.
still amuse themselves by the so-called optical illusions
and the beautiful phenomena of contrast, although there
is not a particle of physics in any way connected with
the subject. Physi-
ologists have always
been forced to con-
sider questions of sen-
sation, emotion, and
volition, in order to
draw conclusions in
regard to bodily proc-
esses. Many names
might be mentioned
in this connection, but
one is of special impor-
tance, that of Ernst
Heinrich Weber.
This distinguished
physiologist and
physicist wrote a semi-
psychological treatise
on ''Sensations of Touch and the Internal Feelings,"
which not only Induced later physiologists to continue
the work, but was also the direct stimulus for Fechner.
This influence we may call the physiological one ; it has
done its main psychological service in outlining the sen-
sations in a qualitative manner. Fechner may be con-
sidered as the builder of psvchologv representing the
Weber.
Fig. 204. Gustav Theodor Fechner.
Thinkings Feelings Doing.
Fechner.
Helmholtz.
final passage from the qualitative to the quantitative.
Fechner (1801-1887) was the founder of experimental
psychology. While professor of physics at the Uni-
versity of Leipzig he invented and worked out the
methods which we have used in finding the threshold
(page 103, etc.). His greatest works were, " Elemente
der Psychophysik' ' and ' ' Revision der Hauptpunkte der
Psychophysik. " So much of Fechner is embodied in
all our psychological
work that it is use-
less to attempt more
than to indicate his
main services. I
will sum them up as :
(i) the invention of
new methods of
measuring the in-
tensity of sensation ;
(2) the introduction
of new methods of
calculating results ;
(3) the develop-
ment of laws con-
cerning the relation
of intensities of sen-
sations ; (4) the
foundation of experimental aesthetics ; and (5) numerous
smaller investigations and observations.
A greater than Fechner was to come. Mathematician,
physicist, physiologist, psychologist, and technologist,
Hermann von Helmholtz has given to the psychology of
sight and hearing the best his sciences had to give. We
cannot claim him as a psychologist, his genius was too
Fig. 205. Hermann von Helmholtz.
The New Psychology.
289
great for a science still so limited. Nevertheless there are
tew to whom psychology owes more.
W'e must turn back to the last century for a second
current of thought that was to develop psychology.
This time it was an astronomer puzzled by mistakes of
his own method. In a preceding chapter (page 40) the
story has been told. The time measurements of mental
phenomena were afterwards taken up and developed by
Wundt, in w^hose laboratory they are still continually
pushed further.
Wilhelm Wundt, born at Neckerau in Baden in 1832,
was a student of medicine at Tiibingen, Heidelberg, and
Berlin. His academical career began with a place as in-
structor in physiol-
ogy at Heidelberg,
where in 1863 he
published his "Lec-
tures on Human and
Animal Psychol-
ogy" (2d edition
1892). In 1864 he
was made assistant
professor of physi-
olog}^ In 1866 he
published "The
Physical Axioms
and their Relations
to the Principles of
Causality." In 1874
he published the
"Outlines of Phys-
iological Psychology" (4th edition 1893). In the same
year he was called to Ziirich as professor of philosophy ;
Fig. 206. Wilhelm Wundt.
Influence of
astronomy.
Wundt.
290
Thinking, Feeling, Doing.
Institute at
Leipzig.
Influence of
anatomy.
Anatomical
speculation in
psychology.
in 1875 to Leipzig. His later works have covered most
sections of philosophy : ''Logic" (1880, 1883, 2d edition
1893), "Essays" (1885), "Ethics" (1886, 2d edition
1894), "System of Philosophy" (1891). The pro-
ductions of the Institute for Experimental Psychology at
Leipzig are published in his " Philosophical Studies."
The institute at Leipzig has taken up not only the
time measurements and the work begun by Fechner, but
also nearly every portion of psychology accessible to ex-
periment. I think it can be said that there are only two
important regions of psychology which have not received
contributions from Leipzig, namely, power and work in
voluntary action (investigations from France and Italy)
and the applications of psychological principles to educa-
tion (a peculiarly American department). When we
view the ten solid volumes of investigation in the ' ' Phi-
losophical Studies ' ' and remember that the men who
produced them were simply carrying out Wundt's
thoughts, we must admit the justness of the recognition
which the world pays to Wundt as the greatest genius in
psychology since the time of Aristotle.
There is another influence on the development of psy-
chology, which we might call the anatomical. Arising
from crude materialism, it has sought to parcel out men-
tal life among different portions of the brain. It has
produced such monstrosities as ' ' mental physiology, ' '
"physiology of mind," etc. It speaks of the different
mental faculties as seated in various portions of the sur-
face of the brain.
The evil this movement has done is very great. It
has led to a habit of wild speculation concerning
" memory cells," "association fibers," etc. Concern-
ing what goes on in the brain in company with mental
The New Psychology.
291
processes we know nothing more than general outlines.
Yet writers of psychologies — especially in America —
generally disdain to speak of the relations of mental
processes to each other. They first turn the sensations
into ' ' molecular movements * ' (this is a favorite phrase
because its meaning is so deliciously indefinite and its
alliteration so sonorously professorial) ; then they set
complicated processes running along nerve fibers to other
Fig. 207. Lecture-room in the Yale Laboratory.
cells ; here there are more ' '
which are retranslated into
mental process would be very
many translations, especially
processes are, as the anatomist
known languages.
As would be expected, it is
who commits this fault. He is
molecular movements, ' '
mental phenomena. A
likely to suffer from so
when the intermediate
will tell you, utterly un-
not the brain anatomist
after facts concerning the
292
Thijiking, Feeling, Doi7ig.
structure of the brain. Experimental psychology can
be of great service to him, especially in the pathology of
mind, where brain disease is accompanied by mental dis-
turbance or mental troubles disastrously affect the body.
These men are ardent and valuable friends of our science.
Indeed, the subject of psychology has passed through
Three stages of three stagcs of metaphysical speculation : the doubly
speculation. . .,, . . .
distilled metaphysical speculation of the pre-Herbartian
Psychology and
philosophy.
Fig. 208. Apparatus-room and Switchboard-hall in the Yale Laboratory.
era, the mathematico-metaphysical speculation of Her-
bart and his followers, and the anatomico-metaphysical
speculation of Carpenter, Maudsley, and the rest.
And what about philosophy, the science of sciences ?
Alas ! philosophy is still in the Middle Ages. One by
one the other sciences have freed themselves ; the lin-
gering clutch of philosophy on psychology is a last hope
The New Psychology. 293
of respectability. Metaphysics of the worst sort still goes
begging for recognition under such terms as ' ' rational
psychology" (as though the psychology of fact were
irrational ! ) , " theoretical psychology, " * ' speculative
psychology," etc. Philosophy in modern times has
contributed nothing but stumbling-blocks in aid of
psychology.
The trouble lies in the fact that the new philosophy psychology has
has only lately appeared. The movement by which a "°th°5hf-'^^^°"
science of philosophy" is to be based on the special ^"^°p^>'-
sciences, such as physics, psychology, and the rest, is
still so new as to be very little known outside of Ger-
many. This new philosophy has no more and no less
connection wdth psychology than with physics, mathe-
matics, and astronomy. Every scientist, every man,
must be more or less of a philosopher in the new sense,
and philosophy based on the special sciences cannot but
be a help in every way. Such a philosophy would no
more think of claiming a right to meddle in psychology
than it would to regulate the manufacture of lathes in a
machine shop.
Having arrived at the present day, we naturally ask, yig,^, ^f ^^e
What is going on now? In Germany the number of p^^^^"*^-
psychological laboratories is not large and the amount of
capital invested is small. Yet, it must be confessed, the Germany,
best work and almost all the good work in psychology
comes from the German psychological, physical, and
physiological laboratories. The causes combining to this
result are many ; the main one is hard, honest, accurate
work.
In America the first laboratory was founded at Johns America.
Hopkins University in 1883 by G. Stanley Hall. The
work done was excellent and full of promise, but the
294
Thinking, Feeling, Dohig.
Yale.
laboratory was allowed to pass out of existence upon the
departure of Professor Hall. At the present moment,
there are about twenty American institutions in which
attempts are made at laboratory instruction.
France has lately established a laboratoiy. Russia
Fig. 209. Workshop in the Yale Laboratory.
has a laboratory at Moscow. Up to the date of my
latest information no laboratories exist in Austria, Italy,
Spain, British Empire (except Canada), or elsewhere.
The Yale laboratory was started in 1892. It diifers
from the German laboratories in having an organized
system of courses, whereby the college student receives
a thorough training. It diifers from most American
laboratories in its extensive provisions for accurate, scien-
tific researches by trained investigators of special sub-
jects.
The New Psychology. 295
Laboratories are the outward signs of internal forces Forces ot
, . 1 1 . , , development.
at work in developing- psychology.
The first of these forces is the conviction in the mind Power of the
of every man that mere observation and speculation will
not serve to build a locomotive, paint a picture, run a
gas factory, or teach psychology. Long, long years of
special training and laborious experimenting must first
be spent in the workshop, the studio, the chemical lab-
oratory, or the psychological laboratory. To do any of
these things a man must be a specialist. As long as
psychology was an arm-chair science, anybody could
teach it ; to-day no one but a carefully trained man can
do so.
A second great force is the recognition that all Basis of
rational and effective education is based on psychology
■ — not the vague and verbose "psychology" of ten,
twenty, or forty years ago, but the accurate, up-to-date,
practical psychology of to-day.
INDEX.
Abnormal attention, loi.
Absolute white, 159.
Accidents due to color-blindness, 177.
Accuracy of tone-judgment, 143.
Act and will, 28, 33.
Action, 28, 226.
Addition, time of, 54.
Additions, unconscious, 17,
Adjustable fork, 139; pitch-pipe, 141.
Advertising, 93, 247.
^sthesiometer, no, 11 1.
Esthetic emotions, 234.
Esthetics, see Feeling.
Age, effect on highest tone, 136 ; see
School children.
Agreeable, see Like.
Agreement, 237.
Air, illusion, 197.
Air transmission, 67.
Alarm, 234.
Alliteration, 249.
Alphabet, see Letters.
Alternation of odors, 127.
Anatomy, 279, 290.
Anger, 84, 88, 224, 229, 230.
Angle, illusion, 189.
Animal psychology, 18, 278.
Animals, smell, 127 ; hearing, 137.
Antipathy, 230.
Ants, 18.
Anxiety, 224, 228.
Aristotle, 276, 285, 290.
Aristotle's illusion, 113.
Arithmomania, loi.
Arm, time of movement, 58; steadi-
ness of, 69.
Arm-chair psychology, 24.
Association-time, 53.
Astonishment, 99, 233.
Astronomers' discovery of reaction-
time, 40, 272.
Atmosphere, illusion, 197.
Attention, 89 ; focus, 90 ; instability, 91 ;
extent, 91; in children, 92 ; forcing,
93 ; in advertising, 93 ; law of big-
ness, 93 ; law of intensity, 94 ; law
of feeling, 96 ; law of expectation^
97 ; law of change, 99 ; diseases,
loi ; fatigue, loi ; hypnotism, 102;
effect on mental quickness, 99 ;
effect on astronomical records,
272 ; and steadiness, 75.
Attraction, 229.
Audiometer, see Intensity of tones.
Average change, 240.
Average error, 81.
Average uncertainty, 241.
Aversion, 229.
Baton, 259.
Beam-balances, 106.
Beautiful, 214, 222.
Beauty and bigness, 96.
Bigness for attention, 93.
Bile, 224.
Binaural, see Ears.
Binocular contrast, 212.
Binocular luster, 212.
Binocular relief, 205.
Binocular strife, 210.
Binocular vision, 199.
Black, 156, 159.
Blind, threshold of space, in.
Blind-spot, 183.
Blocks for suggestion, 267.
Blue, 162.
Art's colors, 218.
Association, in illusion, 197 ; in emo- Boiling a frog, 121.
tion, 232 ; in memory, 250. Book stereoscope, 202
297
298
Index.
Boxer, 59.
Boys and girls compared, see School
children.
Brain, see Anatomy.
Burning-point of attention, 90.
Capsules, 68, 76, 253.
Care, 224, 228.
Carpenter, 292.
Chagrin, 230.
Chain-reaction, 38, 52,
Change and attention, 99.
Change, least noticeable, 106, 120,
143 ; average, 240.
Charm, 229.
Cheerfulness, 228.
Chemistry of mind, 279.
Children, extent of attention, 92 ; skin-
space, 112 ; field of vision, 182 ; see
School children.
Choice-time, 51.
Chronometer, 256.
Civilization, influence on time of
thought, 62.
Clairvoyant healing, 26.
Clock-work drum, 68.
Coil, 31, 51, 55, 146, 256.
Cold, reaction to, 47.
Cold spots, 117.
Color, 153.
Color-blindness, 173, 1S2.
Color-cone, 157.
Color-disk, 155.
Color equation, 164, 173.
Color feelings, 217.
Color-names, 162, 163.
Color perimetry, 182.
Color, recognition-time, 149 ; influence
on power, 88 ; feeling, 217 ; emo-
tion, 231.
Color sensitiveness, 170.
Color system, 156.
Color-top, 153, 157, 163, 170, 173.
Color-triangle, 166.
Color-weakness, 176.
Color-wheel, 154.
Colored grays, 160.
Colors, fundamental, 165.
Combination of colors, 163, 167, 218.
Combination of paints, 167.
Compass, no.
Comte, 286.
Concentration of thought, loi.
Cone of colors, 157.
Consternation, 234.
Contentment, 230.
Contradiction, 237.
Contrast, 171, 212.
Control, 67.
Courage, 224.
Cross-education, 75, 83, 112.
Cross-memory, 242.
Crossed disparity, 205.
Crushing a frog, 107.
Curiosity, 98, 99.
Dalton, 179.
Deafness, 147.
Defective action, 33 ; execution, 71 ;
attention, loi ; smell, 128 ; hearing,
135 ; color sense, 172.
Dejection, 228.
Delicacy of touch, h.earing, etc., see
Threshold.
Depression, 225, 228.
Descartes, 277.
Diagram of colors, 157.
Difference, least noticeable, 108, 139,
170.
Direct memory, 243.
Disagreeable, see Dislike.
Disappointment, 224, 232.
Discontentedness, 230.
Discrimination-time, 50 ; in children,
60.
Disks for colors, 154 ; for contrast, 172;
see also Color-top.
Dislike, 96, 214.
Disparity, 205.
Dissatisfaction, 230.
Distinct vision, 180.
Distraction, influence on tapping, 35;
avoidance of, 41 ; in isolated room,
42.
Dividers, no.
Dog, time of thought, 60.
Double consciousness, 265, 283.
Double images, 204.
Doubt, 237.
Drawing a straight line, 71.
Index.
299
Drawing-dividers, no.
Drum, smoked recording, 29, 43, 68,
224, 253.
Drum-stick, 259.
Dumb-bell exercises, 262.
Duration, notation for, 148, 151.
Dynamograph, 86.
Dynamometer, 79.
Ears, two, 152.
Education of rapidity, 22, 63, 65 ; of
steadiness, 74 ; " cross," 75, 83 ; of
attention, 76 ; of power, 82 ; of skin,
III ; of memory, 247.
Effort, 236.
Eiffel tower, 96.
Electric baton, 259.
Electric drum-stick, 259.
Electric shoe, 255.
Emotion, 226 ; as a source of illusion,
19S.
English psychology, 2S4.
Enjo>Tnent, 236.
Equation, personal, 40, 272 ; of colors,
163, 173-
Error, 16.
Error in proof-reading, 17.
Error of prejudice, 16.
Error of the senses, 21.
Error of unconscious additions, 17.
Errors in animal psychology, 18, 19,
20.
Errors in memory, statistics, 245.
Ethical emotions, 234.
Exasperation, 230.
Excitation, 225, 227.
Exercises in observing, 21, 22.
Expectation, 232, 272.
Expectation and attention, 97 ; and
emotion, 232 ; and suggestion, 272.
Experiment, its advent, 24, 25 ; its
law, 25 ; grades, 25, 26 ; quack ex-
periments, 26, 265; need of, 28.
Expression, 270.
Extent of attention, 91.
Eye and ear method, 272.
Eyes, 15.
Facility, 236.
Faculty-psychology, 285.
Failure, 237.
Faith-cure, 26.
Faraday's confession, 16.
Fastest tapping, 34 ; telegraphing, 65.
Fatigue, 34,37; of attention, loi ; of
smell, 126.
Fear, 233.
Fechner, 286, 288.
Fechner's law, see Weber's law.
Feeling, 214 ; and emotion, 226.
Feeling used for attracting attention,
96.
Fencing, 55.
Ferris wheel, 96.
Feuerbach, 281.
Field of attention, 90.
Field of vision, 180.
Finger illusion, 113.
Finger, record of movement, 31.
Fixed ideas, loi.
Flag-foil, 55.
Flavors due to smell, 128.
Flower spectrum, 162.
Fluctuating pressure, 105.
Focus of attention, 90.
Foil, 55.
Foot-key, 255.
Forced association, 54.
Fork, electric, 28, 43, 146 ; mirror,
76 ; for tickle, 104 ; giant, 134 ;
small, 135 ; adjustable, 139 ; for least
noticeable difference, 140 ; for
agreeable tones, 223.
Fork record, 29, 104.
Form, 115 ; of tone, 150 ; and feeling,
220.
Free association, 53.
Fright, 234.
Frog, 107, 121.
Fundamental colors, 165, 169.
Fundamental fact of binocular vision,
199.
Fundamental law of obser\'ation, 15.
Fundamental pigments, 169.
Galilei, 25.
Galton, 137.
Galton's whistle, 135.
Game of twenty questions, 17.
Games, 57, 82.
Gas-capsule, 76.
300
Index.
Gauge for steadiness, 74.
Geissler tubes, 51.
German psychology, 284.
German type, 50.
Gesture, 270.
Giotto's tower, 96.
Gloom, 228.
Gram, 80.
Graphic chronometer, 256.
Graphic method, 28, 29, 30, 43, 68, 86,
253-
Graphic record, 29, 69, 87, 88, 254, 256.
Grasp, 80, 86.
Grating, 160.
Gray, 159, 165, 217.
Green, 162.
Green-blindness, 174.
Grip of pencil, steadiness, 73.
Guido Aretino, 148.
Gun, steadiness in holding, 69.
Hair-lines, 272.
Hall, G. Stanley, 293.
Hallucination, 266.
Hamilton, 276, 282, 284.
Hand-capsule, 70.
Hand, steadiness of, 70.
Happiness, 230.
Hearing, 133.
Heart, 224, 227.
Hegel, 276, 281.
Helmholtz, 154, 162, 288.
Herbart, 94, 278, 284.
Hering, 154.
High pitch, 133.
Highest tone, 135; dependent on in-
tensity, 138.
Hilarity, 228.
Holmgren, 175.
Hope, 233.
Hot, reaction to, 47 ; hot and cold,
116.
Hot spots, 1x7.
Huber, 20.
Hue, 156.
Hume, 285.
Hundredths of a second, sign for, 30.
Hunger, 215.
Hypnotism, 26, 102, 265.
Idea, men of one, loi ; fixed, loi.
Illusion, Aristotle's or finger, 113 ; lip,
113; tooth, 114; interrupted space
on skin, 114; optical, 187; moon
illusion, 196.
Inaccuracy, index of, 258.
Index of inaccuracy, 258.
Index of irregularity, 258.
Indifference, 214, 230.
Indistinct vision, 180.
Infinity of colors, 157, 165.
Inhibitory, 227.
Intellectual emotion, 234.
Intensification of tastes, 130.
Intensity, influence on reaction-time,
47, 48 ; law, in attention, 94 ; de-
pendent on quantity, 130 ; influ-
ence on highest tone, 138 ; of tones,
146 ; of action, see Power ; least
noticeable, see Threshold.
Interest, 94.
Internal sensations, 223.
Interrupted space, illusion, 114, 188.
Irregularity, index of, 258.
Isolated room, 41.
Jan de Meurs, 148.
Joy, 88, 225, 228.
Judgment, 55; of space, 152; see also
Least noticeable difference. Least
noticeable change.
Just noticeable, see Least noticeable.
Just perceptible, see Least noticeable.
Kant, 284.
Key, telegraph, 31, 43; reaction, 43;
multiple, 43 ; pistol, 45 ; runner's,
45 ; touch, 46 ; five-knobbed, 51 ;
voice, 53 ; foot, 255 ; orchestra
leader's, 259.
Kindergarten, 76, 154.
Knowledge, method of acquiring, 15 ;
thresholds of, 125.
Laboratories, 290, 293.
Lamp and spoon, 120.
Language, rapidity in, 64; in the
printery, 65.
Lantern test, 176.
Latin, rapidity in translating, 64.
Latin type, 50.
Law, of observation, 15 ; of attention,
93 ; of change, 108 ; of beauty,
Index.
301
220 : of memory, 241, 242, 244, 245;
of obliteration, 251.
Least noticeable change, 106, 120, 143.
Least noticeable difference, loS ; in
pressure, 108 ; in pitch, 139 ; \\\
color, 170.
Least noticeable sensation , see Thresh-
old.
Least noticeable weight, 103.
Least perceptible, see Least notice-
able.
Leipzig, 290.
Letters, recognition-time, 49, 50 ; for
colors, 156.
Light, reaction to, 48.
Like and dislike, 96, 214.
Lip illusion, 113.
Liver, 225.
Localization, 224.
Location of sounds, 152.
Locke, 2S2, 2S5.
Logical emotions, 235.
Logical judgment, 55.
Loss of smell, 128.
Love, 224.
Low pitch, 133.
Lowest tone, 134.
Lubbock, 20.
Luster, 212.
Lysikrates, 96.
Magician's training, 22, 23.
Magnesium oxide, 159.
Map of hot and cold spots, 117.
Mariotte, 1S3.
Marker, see Time-marker.
Marking time, 255.
Matching colors, 163.
Materialism, 276, 2S0.
Mathematics in psychology, 285.
Maudsley, 292.
Maxwell, 154, 163.
Measurement of time, 28.
Melancholy, 228.
Memon.-, 25, 239; " cross," 242.
Memory and emotion, 231.
Men of one idea, loi.
Mental activity, influence on tapping,
35-
Mental physiology-, 2S0.
Mental-time, see Reaction-time, Think-
ing-time.
Metaphysical mania, loi.
Middle tone, 145.
Military drill, 99, 255.
Milton, 212.
Mind, science of, 27; chemistry of,
279.
Mirror-tuning-fork, 76.
Mnemonics, 247.
Moods, 227, 230.
Moon illusion, 196.
Mortification, 230.
Mouth-key, see Voice-key.
Movement, steadiness of, 71 ; memory
for, 240 ; suggestion, 270.
Mozart, 245.
Multiple key, 43.
Multiplication-time, 54.
Muscle sense, Si.
Muscles, influenced by feeling and
emotion, 225, 227.
Muscular activity, 215.
Muscular time, 55, 58.
Music, error in simultaneity, 32 ; influ-
ence on power, 85 ; notation for,
ISO-
Musical scale, 134.
Musk, 88.
Names for odors, 123 ; for tastes, 127.
Nature, brightest colors in, 160.
Nature's colors, 218.
Nature's spectrum, 161.
New Haven measurements, see School
children.
New psychology', 282.
Newton, 163.
No-Eyes, 15.
Noise, reaction to, 44 ; influence on
power, 87 ; and tone, 133.
Nose illusion, 113.
Notation, for pitch and duration, 148 ;
for intensity, 150.
Obliteration, law of in memory, 251.
Observation, 15 ; contrasted with ex-
periment, 25, 283; fundamental
law of, 15.
Odors, groups of, 124; alternation of,
127.
302
Index.
Olfactometer, 124.
One-color persons, 175.
Orange, i6r.
Orchestra leader, 259.
Paints, see Pigments.
Paradise Lost, 212.
Parallel lines, illusion, 190.
Passage of star, 272.
Passions, 227.
Pencil experiments on grip, 73.
Perfumes, 124.
Perimeter, 181.
Personal equation, 40, 272.
Personal pride, 97.
Philosophy, 292.
Physical exercise, 84.
Physical experiments, 26.
Physics of light, 153, 282.
Physiology of mind, 279, 290.
Piano-player, simultaneity in, 31.
Piano-playing, 31, 261.
Pigments, 157, 164, 167 ; fundamental^
169.
Pilot, 176.
Pistol-key, 45.
Pitch, 133 ; range of, 134 ; notation,
148 ; influence on power, 186.
Pitch-pipe, 141.
Plato, 276.
Plato on Greek music, 85.
Pneumatic shoe, 253.
Point of regard, 180, 185.
Pound of lead and pound of feathers,
269.
Power, 79 ; accuracy, 80 ; greatest, 83 ;
dependence on mental condition,
83; relation to physical exercise,
84 ; influence of music, 85 ; influ-
ence of pitch, 86 ; influence of
noises, 87 ; influence of colors, 87 ;
influences of smell, 88; memory
for, 242.
Practice, influence on steadiness, 73 ;
on power, 83.
Prejudice, 76.
Pressure and temperature, 121.
Pride, personal, 97.
Prism, 161.
Prism stereoscope, 201.
Prismatic spectrum, 161.
Proof-reading, error in, 17.
Proportionality of differences, no.
Psychical research, 26.
Psychology, 276, 282.
Pugilist, 59.
Pulse, 223, 224, 225.
Pun, 248.
Puzzle, 98, 249.'
Quakers, color-blindness, 178.
Qualitative experiments, 25.
Qualitative sciences, 41.
Quantitative experiments, 26.
Quick observation, 22, 23.
Rage, 230.
Railroads and color-blindness, 176.
Rainbow colors, 161, 169 ,217.
Raleigh, error of the senses, 21.
Rapidity, in observation, 23; in
thought and action, 62, 63 ; in
emotion, 235.
Rate of change, 107, 120, 143.
Reaction in racing, 45.
Reaction-key, 43.
Reaction- room, 41.
Reaction-time, 38, 99.
Reaction to sound, 44 ; to touch, 46 ;
to cold, 47 ; to hot, 47 ; to light,
48 ; dependence on age, 48 ; pho-
tographer's application, 48.
Reading, 50, 64 ; blind-spot, 185.
Recognition, threshold of, 126.
Recognition-time, 49.
Recording drum, see Drum.
Rectangle, 222.
Red, 161.
Red-blindness, 174, 182.
Regard, point of, 180, 185.
Reid, 285.
Relief, 205.
Religious emotions, 234.
Repugnance, 230.
Repulsion, 229.
Revised materialism, 280.
Rhyme, 248.
Rhythm, 233, 256.
Rhythmic action, 253.
Ridiculousness, 248.
Robert-Houdin, 22,264.
Index.
303
Room, isolated, 41 ; reaction, 41.
Roughness, 114.
Runner's key, 45.
Runner's reaction-time, 45.
Runner's suggestion, 271.
Satisfaction, 232.
Scale in music, 134.
Schelling, 284.
School children, tapping, 36 ; fatigue,
36 ; reaction-time, 48 ; time of dis-
crimination and choice, 61 ; muscle
sense, 81 ; hearing of, 142 ; color
sensitiveness, 171 ; suggestion, 267.
Science and curiosity, 98.
Science's colors, 218.
Scientific pursuits, influence on quick-
ness, 58.
Seeing color, 153 ; with one eye, 180 ;
with two eyes, 199.
Sensation, threshold of, 125.
Sex, see School children.
Shade, 156.
Shadows, illusion, 198.
Shape of the sky, 196.
Shoe, 253, 255.
Sight, discrimination-time, 51.
Sigma, 30.
Simultaneous acts, 31.
Singing, accuracy of, 76 ; intervals, 78.
Size and distance, 195 ; and sugges-
tion, 266.
Skin-space, no, 112.
Sky, shape of, 196.
Smell, 123.
Smell, influence on power, 88.
Smell-measurer, 124.
Smeller, 124.
Smoked drum, see Drum.
Smoothness, 114.
Snapper sounder, 152.
Sorrow, 225, 227.
Sorting colors, 155.
Sound, reaction to, 44 ; see Hearing.
Sounder, snapper, 152.
Space, touch, no; auditory, 152;
visual, 180, 185, 186.
Span and suggestion, 269.
Spark-coil, 31, 51- 55- 256.
Spectral-curve, 166.
Spectrum, 160; of flowers, 162.
Spectrum colors, 161, 216, 218.
Spectrum grating, 160.
Spectrum lines, 162.
Speculation, 281, 283, 284, 2S5, 290.
Spiritualism, 276.
Sportsman, steadiness of, 69.
Spot, hot, cold, 117 ; blind, 183.
Spring-scale dynamometer, 79.
Squeeze, 80, 86.
Standard white, 159.
Standards of color, 161.
Standing, steadiness in, 70.
Star, passage of, 40, 272.
Statistics and measurement, 41.
Statistics on memory, 245.
Steadiness, 67; of the arm, 68; of a
sportsman, 69; in standing, 70; of
the hand, 70 ; of the tongue, 70 ;
relation to will, 71 ; in movements,
71 ; in drawing, 71 ,- influence of
practice, 73 ; gauge for, 74 ; educa-
tion of, 75 ; cross-education, 75 ; in
singing, 76; of point of regard, 180.
Steamship, 177.
Stereoscope, 201.
Stop-watch, 38, 256.
Straight line, drawing, 71.
Strength and will, 84.
Strife, binocular, 210.
Strongest possible effort, 82 ; depend-
ence on mental condition, effect of
practice, 83.
Success, 237.
Suggestibility, 271.
Suggestion, loi, 264.
Suggestion blocks, 266.
Surprise, 99, 233.
Symmetrical memory, 242.
Symmetry, 220.
System of colors, 156; ofpsychology,276.
Tapping, 34; fatigue in, 34; influence
of mental activity, 35 ; influence
of time, 35; influence of age, 36;
produces sensations of hot and
cold, 119.
Taste, 127; and touch, 131, 216; and
temperature, 132, 216 ; and feeling,
2T6.
304
Index.
Tear-glands, 225.
Tedium, 236.
Telegraph key, 31.
Telegrapher, rapidity of, 65.
Telephone, 43, 53, 146.
Telescope, 40, 272.
Temperature, see Hot, Cold.
Temperature and pressure, 121 ; and
taste, 216.
Terror, 224, 234.
Tests, 25.
Thinking-time, 49 ; decreased by civi-
lization, 62.
Thirst, 215.
Thought, time of, 49; emotion, 226,
235-
Thought-transference, 26.
Three-color persons, 173.
Threshold, 103, 124, 125, 127, 129, 130,
146, 147; of space, no.
Threshold of change, see Least
noticeable change.
Threshold of difference, see Least
noticeable difference.
Tickle, 104.
Time and action, 27.
Time-marker, 28.
Time-memory, 251, 263. ,
Time of action, 28.
Time of day, influence on tapping, 35.
Time of reaction, see Reaction-time.
Time of thought, see Thinking-time.
Time of will, 28.
Time, value of, 61.
Tint, 156.
Tobacco, 88.
Tone, reaction to, 44 ; accuracy in
singing, 76 ; and noise, 133 ; nota-
tion, 136, 150 ; judgment, 143.
Tones, 133 ; low^est, 134 ; highest, 135 ;
feeling, 223 ; memory for, 244.
Tones, discrimination-time, 51.
Tone-tester, 141.
Tongue, steadiness of, 70.
Tongue-capsule, 70.
Tooth, estimate of space, 114.
Top, for colors, 154.
Touch, 103 ; and temperature, 121 ;
and taste, 131, 216.
Touch-key, 46.
Touch-weights, 103.
Translation, time of, 54.
Tuning-fork, see Fork.
Twenty questions, 17.
Two-color persons, 174.
Type, 50.
Ugly, 214, 222.
Ulysses, 80.
Uncertainty, average, 241.
Unconscious additions, 17.
Uncrossed disparity, 205.
Uneasiness, 234.
Untrustworthiness of the senses, 21.
Violet, 162.
Vision, distinct and indistinct, 180 ;
field of, 180 ; binocular, 199.
Voice-key, 53.
Voluntary, see Will.
Walking, 253.
Warmth, hallucination of, 266.
Watch, 38, 52, 147.
Watching, 232 ; see Observation.
Wavy pressure, 105.
Weariness, 230.
Weber, 287.
Weber's compass, in.
Weber's law, 109.
Weights, 81, 103, 108.
Wheel, for colors, 154.
Whistle, for highest tone, 135.
White, 159, 216.
Will, and time of action, 28; and
steadiness, 71 ; and power, 79 ;
cannot be physically measured, 81;
and strength, 84.
Wolff, 284.
Women as observers, 23.
Wonder, 99, 233.
Words, recognition-time, 49.
World, seen with one eye, 180 ; with
two eyes, 199 ; in three different
ways, 199.
Worsted test, 175.
Writing, 241.
Wundt, 18, 226, 276, 289.
Yale, 55, 294.
Yellow, 161.
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