Skip to main content

Full text of "The American Journal of Psychology 1921-04: Vol 32 Iss 2"

See other formats




Founded in 1887 
G. Srawixry Hat 

Vor. XXXII APRIL, 1921 


By E. B. TitcHENER 

Wilhelm Max Wundt was born, the son of a Lutheran pas- 
tor, at Neckarau in Baden, on August 16th, 1832. We know 
nothing of the family life of his parents, and nothing of his 
schooldays, though we may guess that he attended the Gym- 
nasium at the neighboring town of Mannheim, of which in 
later years (1907) he became an honorary citizen.1 The 
biographies begin with the statement that he spent the years 
1851 to 1856 at the universities of Tiibingen (where his uncle 
was professor of anatomy), Heidelberg and Berlin. His 
interest, at any rate for the greater part of his studentship, 
lay not in physiology (though he worked for a while in 
Johannes Miiller’s Institute) but in the purely medical subject 
of pathological anatomy. In 1855-6 he was assistant in the 
Medical Clinic at Heidelberg, and his Inaugural-Abhandlung 
(Untersuchungen iiber das Verhalten der Nerven in entziin- 
deten und degenerirten Zustanden) is dedicated to C. E. 

1 It is difficult to secure these details. I am not even sure of Wundt’s 
middle name: the authorities here accessible give it as Max, but I seem 
to remember having seen it printed Maximilian. Nor do I know if 
Wundt had brothers and sisters. 

Neckarau is a small place lying close to Mannheim, with which I 
believe it is now incorporated. Mannheim and Heidelberg are them- 
selves only half-an-hour apart by rail. 


Printed in Germany. 


Hasse, its director. The biographies inform us, next, that 
he became Privatdozent at Heidelberg in 1857. His titular 
subject, whether as a matter of choice or of academic accident, 
was physiology.* He remained in this position, working for 
some years as assistant to Helmholtz, who came to Heidelberg 
in 1858,* until 1864, when he was appointed extraordinarius. 
Again there was a wait; Wundt’s apprenticeship to the aca- 
demic career was longer even than Kant’s. In 1874, however, 
he received a call to Zurich, to the chair of inductive phil- 
osophy founded by F. A. Lange; and in the following year 
he was made a professor of philosophy at Leipzig.’ Here 
he lived and worked for forty-five years,—rector of the uni- 
versity in 1889 (only fourteen years after he had joined the 
philosophical faculty), honorary citizen of the town in 1902, 
orator of the university at its five-hundred-year jubilee in 
1909,° professor until 1917; and near by, at Grossbothen, he 

2Wundt held the doctorates of medicine, philosophy and law. The 
doctorate of law was conferred upon him, honoris causa, by the Uni- 
versity of G6éttingen, in 1905. This year was the fiftieth anniversary 
of his doctorate of medicine, which was accordingly taken in 1855. 
The Heidelberg thesis bears the date 1856. (My copy has no Vita; 
but as the plate at the end is duplicated the Vita-leaf may have been 
omitted.) Did it serve both for Dissertation and for Habilitations- 
schrift?—I do not know where or when the doctorate in philosophy 
was taken; I have been told that it was an honorary degree. 

8 See title-page of Die Lehre von der Muskelbewegung, 1858 (Pref- 
ace, 1857): a book dedicated to E. du Bois-Reymond, from whom and 
from whose pupils Wundt was presently to suffer sadly. 

4 The relations of Wundt and Helmholtz have not, to my knowledge, 
been thoroughly worked out. Personally, tradition says, the two 
men were uncongenial; and that would not be surprising, since their 
training was similar and their gifts and temperaments most dissimilar. 
But they speak of each other with mutual respect in the Physiolog- 
ische Optik (1856, 1860, 1866) and the Theorie der Sinneswahrnehm- 
ung (1858-1862). When Helmholtz went to Berlin in 1871 his chair 
fell not to Wundt but to W. Kihne. 

5His chief opponent was A. Horwicz. G. S. Hall tells us (Founders 
of Modern Psychology, MCMXII., 311) that the scale was turned 
in Wundt’s favor by the local Herbartians. It must, surely, have 
been for them a choice of evils! For, if they had every reason to 
dislike Horwicz, they could still hardly have been much impressed 
by the preface to the Physiologische Psychologie. 

8I have no list of Wundt’s public honors. In 1911 he received the 
order Pour le mérite, one of the most highly prized of European 
distinctions (30 German and 30 foreign members) ; and he was knight 
of various, I suppose Saxon, orders. He also became a wirklicher 
Geheimrat of Saxony, and was addressed as Exzellenz—It may be 
mentioned in passing that Wundt once attempted politics. In 1866 
he was chosen representative of Heidelberg in the Baden second 
chamber. He very soon resigned. 


died, on August 31st, 1920, a fortnight after his eighty-eighth 

Outwardly, then, Wundt’s life was as uneventful as could 
well be: seventeen years at Heidelberg, and forty-five at Leip- 
zig, with the Swiss interlude of a single year between. We 
have now to see what he made of this scholar’s life; and we 
turn, naturally, to his books. 

The book of primary importance for our purpose is the 
Beitrage zur Theorie der Sinneswahrnehmung of 1862. We 
do not know what led Wundt to the problem of perception: 
perhaps the Kantian atmosphere that he had breathed in 
Miiller’s laboratory,* perhaps the cases of anaesthesia that 
he met with in the Medical Clinic at Heidelberg, perhaps the 
discovery of a kindred spirit in E. H. Weber. At all events 
he writes a full-blown theory of perception, tactual and visual, 
four years before Helmholtz issues the third part of the 
Optik. We need not, however, concern ourselves with the 
psychology either of this book or of the more comprehensive 
Vorlesungen tiber die Menschen- und Thierseele which ap- 
peared in the year following. It was the psychology of the 
student of clinical medicine, of the biological technologist, 
made up out of general knowledge and common sense and 
medical case-histories as occasion required; we have plenty 
of it with us today, without needing to explore the work 
of half-a-century ago. What is of solid and enduring interest 
is the thirty-page introduction, Ueber die Methoden in der 
Psychologie, in which Wundt sets forth three ideas of first- 
rate importance: the idea of an experimental psychology, the 
idea of a social psychology, and the idea of a scientific meta- 

(1) If psychology is to advance, Wundt says, it must follow 
the inductive path. Two inductive methods are available: 
the method of statistics and the method of experiment. The 
former is an indirect method, since it bears primarily upon 
practical and not upon theoretical psychology. It brings with 
it, nevertheless, an extension of psychological observation; it 
furnishes psychology with new facts, guaranteed by the law 

7Wundt’s war-utterances we can only try to forget. We may be 
glad that he suffered no personal loss and (as it appears) no consid- 
erable personal discomfort during the troubled years; that he was 
able to work steadily to the completion of the Vélkerpsychologie; and 
that he saw his son established as the successor of R. Eucken in Jena 
(W. Wirth, Arch. f. d. ges. Psych., XL., 1920, xvi.). 

8 Kant and Herbart were the influences against which Wundt had 
to fight most continuously. They were accordingly the influences which 
most strongly affected him. 


of large numbers; and in so far it is related to the direct 
method of experiment. This second method, Wundt de- 
clares, is in principle applicable over the whole range of 
general psychology. There is no hint of the restriction with 
which we later become familiar.° But neither is there, so 
far as I can see, any hint that the use of experiment is to 
safeguard the procedure and assure the results of that Selbst- 
beobachtung with which all psychology begins. Observation 
seems to remain pretty much what it had always been; only, 
by varying the conditions of observation, Wundt hopes to 
vary the mind’s response to external stimuli and thus presently 
to arrive at laws of the mental life as such.2° Not, I think, 
until 1881 did he express the modern view that “die exacte 
Beschreibung der Thatsachen des Bewusstseins . . . das 
einzige Ziel der experimentellen Psychologie [ist].”™ 
Whence, now, did Wundt derive his idea of an experi- 
mental psychology? I have no wish to belittle his originality ; 
if I had, the attempt to do so would be futile. Ideas of 
this sort, however, do not spring readymade from the thought 
of an individual. And I believe that the proximate source 
of Wundt’s idea is patent. No one can read the introduction 
to the Beitrage without being reminded of the sixth book of 
John Mill’s Logic; and no one, I think, who after such re- 
minder compares the two compositions can doubt that Mill, 
for whom psychology is explicitly a science of observation 
and experiment,’? gave the cue both for Wundt’s emphasis 
on improvement in method and for the concrete means to 
improvement, statistics and experiment, which Wundt pro- 

®“Man ist haufig der Ansicht gewesen, gerade im Gebiet der 
Empfindung und Wahrnehmung [Ebbinghaus was nearly a quarter of a 
century in the future!] sei die Anwendung der experimentellen Meth- 
ode noch moglich, . . dagegen sei es ein vergeblicher Versuch, 
auch in das Bereich der héheren Seelenthatigkeiten auf experimentel- 
lem Wege vordringen zu wollen. Sicherlich ist dies ein Vorurtheil ” 
(Beitrage, xxvii.). 

10 [bid., xxix. 

11 Ueber psychologische Methoden, Philos. Stud., i., (1881) 1883, 3. 
The statement is sharpened in 1888. “Selbstbeobachtung [in the 
technical sense of Beobachtung] ist ausfiihrbar, sie ist es aber nur 
unter der Bedingung der experimentellen Beobachtung” (Selbstbe- 
obachtung und innere Wahrnehmung, Philos. Stud., iv., 301). Cf. the 
appraisal of reaction-experiments in 1894: “Der Hauptwerth ‘ 
dieser Versuche besteht . . . darin, dass sie die psychischen Vor- 
gange exact geregelten Bedingungen unterwerfen und auf solche Weise 
eine genaue Analyse der in der Selbstbeobachtung gegebenen Erschein- 
ungen mdglich machen” (Zur Beurtheilung der zusammengesetzten 
Reactionen, Philos. Stud., x., 498). 

12J. S. Mill, A System "of ‘Logic, etc., bk. vi., ch. iv., § 2; ch. v., § 5 
(ii., 1856, 426, "447). 


pounds. There is marked difference, over and above the 
cardinal difference that Mill talked about experiments and 
Wundt carried them out; but I have no doubt of Wundt’s 
indebtedness to Mill.** 

(2) The idea of a social psychology was in the German 
air at the time of Wundt’s writing. In 1859-60 M. Lazarus 
and H. Steinthal had published the first volume of their 
Zeitschrift fiir Voélkerpsychologie und Sprachwissenschaft, 
and their elaborate programme gave Wundt something posi- 
tive to react against. We must follow the course of this 
reaction through several books. 

In the Beitraége social psychology appears as an auxiliary 
science. General psychology must not only be improved 
methodically from within but must also be supported from 
without ; and the supporting disciplines are two: first, devel- 
opmental psychology, the psychology of the child; and sec- 
ondly comparative psychology, the psychology of the lower 
animals and of human societies.‘ The preface to the first 
volume of the Vorlesungen of 1863 contains the sentence: 
“Wo das absichtliche Experiment aufhért, da hat die Ge- 
schichte fiir den Psychologen experimentirt.”** This seems to 
look more directly toward the future: only, when we read the 
preface to the second volume, we find that the chapters in 
which experiment cannot be applied are those concerned with 
feeling, desire and action! Ethnological enquiry replaces ex- 
periment for the construction of a general theory of feeling; 
anthropology and the natural history of the lower animals 
give us an insight into instinctive actions, which leads on to 
a theory of the will; and the development of language serves 
to confirm psychological conclusions regarding the develop- 
ment both of feeling and of cognition. We are wholly within 
the confines of general or individual psychology. Indeed, in 
a later note Wundt declares expressly that he has not, in the 
Vorlesungen, entered on the field of Vélkerpsychologie as un- 
derstood by Herbart, by Lazarus and Steinthal, and by Waitz.*" 
In this book, then, we find—what is not infrequent in Wundt’s 

18 Mill’s Logic appeared in 1843, and the first German translation 
in 1849. See, e. g., Beitraige, 441. In the Psychologismus und Logizis- 
mus of 1910 (Kleine Schriften, i., 523) Wundt dates the first German 
edition 1862. Is this an evidential lapsus—or did Wundt simply take 
the date from the second edition that he had used (1881) for his 
article on Mathematical Induction? 

14 Beitrage, xiv. f. The three departments of Vélkerpsychologie are 
Sprachkunde, Culturgeschichte and Sittengeschichte. 

15 Vorlesungen, i., 1863, ix. 

16 Jbid., ii., 1863, iii. f. 

17 [bid., 452. 


work—a positive statement side by side with a flatly negative 
reaction to its immediate excitant. 

The first three editions of the Physiologische Psychologie do 
“not take us much further. In 1874 social psychology is essen- 
tially a descriptive, as opposed to an explanatory science. It 
has to do with complex phenomena, which must be illumin- 
ated by the laws of the individual consciousness; its task is 
largely classificatory.* In 1887 psychology is divided into 
(1) subjective psychology, which relies wholly on inner per- 
ception, and (2) objective psychology, which attempts to 
perfect and to supplement inner perception by objective means. 
Objective psychology, again, divides into (a@) experimental 
or physiological psychology, which brings inner perception 
under the control of experimental appliances, and (b) social 
psychology, which seeks to derive general laws of psychological 
development from the objective products of the collective 
mind, from language, myth and custom. Formally, there- 
fore, experimental and social psychology are co-ordinate and 
complementary. Materially, they are also mutually dependent; . 
for the collective mental life everywhere points back to the 
mental capacities of the individuals that make up the society, 
and the individual consciousness, especially in its more highly 
developed modes, is supported (getragen) by the mental life 
of the community.’® 

In all this there is nothing distinctively Wundtian. And 
even the essay of 1888 confines itself to a justification of the 
choice of language, myth and custom as the subject-matter 
of social psychology, and to the drawing of a cautiously quali- 
fied parallel between these three topics and the idea, feeling 
and will of the individual consciousness.?° Not until 1893 
are experimental psychology and social psychology “the two 
main branches of scientific psychology.” Now, at last, we 
reach the peculiarly Wundtian position that experiment breaks 
down on the far side of perception and memory, and that 
thenceforth the psychological system must be built up by way 
of Vélkerpsychologie.** It is clear that, in the matter of ex- 
perimental psychology, Wundt knew from the first what he 

18 PP, 1874, 4 f. So i., 1880, 4, except that the determination of the 
task is omitted. 

19 PP, i, 1887, 5 f. 

20 Ueber Ziele und Wege der Voélkerpsychologie, Philos. Stud., iv., 
1888, 20, 25 f. 

21 “ Gliicklicherweise ftigt es sich jedoch, dass gerade da, wo die 
experimentelle Methode versagt, andere Hiilfsmittel von objectivem 
bey der Psychologie ihre Dienste zur Verfiigung stellen:” PP, i., 
1893, 5. 


was about, and modified his attitude only as his own psycho- 
logical growth proceeded; whereas, in the matter of social 
psychology, he swung between different opinions, and reached 
his final standpoint only after a long course of trial and error. 
The difficulties in the one instance were mainly external; in 
the other, internal. Realising this, we shall give him all the 
more credit for keeping the troublesome subject of social psy- 
chology continually in mind. 

(3) The third idea of the introduction to the Beitriage is 
the idea of a scientific metaphysics, a philosophy which makes 
the results of all the other sciences the object of its own 
special investigations.** To prepare himself for constructive 
work in the light of this idea, Wundt wrote, after the Psy- 
chobogie of 1874, his Logik (1880) and his Ethik (1886). 
The Logik falls into two parts: Erkenntnislehre and Meth- 
odenlehre. The former, strictly logical part is at any rate 
competently done; the book takes its place with the best log- 
ical treatises of its generation. Its value pales, however, 
before the lustre of the Methodenlehre, a work that is abso- 
lutely without peer. Wundt’s occupation with physiology had 
brought him familiarity with mathematics and the procedures 
of the exact sciences; his study of psychology had made him 
equally familiar with the methods of the mental sciences.** The 
result of this “ encyclopaedie and round of knowledge” is a 
book that would of itself alone set its author in the front 
rank of contemporary thinkers. The Ethtk deals, in four 
parts, with the facts of the moral life, the development of 
theories of the universe, the principles of morality, and the 
departments of the moral life. The characteristic feature of 
the work is, again, its scientific tendency, its attempt to derive 
the principles of morality from an empirical survey of the 
facts of moral living.** 

After this manifold preparation Wundt went about the 
writing of his System der Philosophie (1889). The question 
had been, of course, whether the thing could be done; whether 
a full compass of scientific knowledge had not ceased to be 
possible, if not with Aristotle, at any rate with da Vinci; 

22 Beitrige, xiii. 

231t has been said that the biological chapter falls below the 
standard of the others. I cannot agree. We have to remember the 
status of biology at the time when the chapter was written, and we 
have also (whether we like it or not) to presuppose Wundt’s view of 

24T confess that I have never felt at home with the Law of the 
Heterogony of Ends. It seems likely, if one pushes it far enough, to 
run sheerly counter to any ethical equivalent of the law of sufficient 


whether a modern, even if he had written a Physiology, a 
Medical Physics, a Psychology, a Logic and an Ethics, could 
rise on their basis to a genuine philosophy. Wundt replied 
by doing the thing in question. He draws up a complete 
programme of scientific philosophy, in every line of which he 
keeps his touch with science ;?° and he propounds a system in 
which no problem of that programme is shirked. We may 
accept or reject: Wundt has proved that this way of phil- 
osophising is still feasible.” 

With the publication of the System it might well appear 
that Wundt had fulfilled his circle. He was fifty-seven years 
old; and he had enough to do, it would seem, in the revision 
of former texts (for all the larger books, the Vorlesungen, 
the Physiologische Psychologie, the Logik, the Ethik, the 
System itself, were going into new editions) and in the prep- 
aration, collection and revision of minor works (Grundriss 
der Psychologie, 1896; Einleitung in die Philosophie, 1901; 
Essays, [1885] 1906; Kleine Schriften, 1910-11; Einfiihrung 
in die Psychologie, 1911).27_ As a matter of fact, he began 
forthwith to plan the largest of all his books, a book which 
causes us to retrace the path which we have too hastily been 
following: the ten-volume Vélkerpsychologie, whose dates run 
from 1900 to 1920. The title-pages of the completed work 
still carry the familiar legend Sprache, Mythus und Sitte; but 
the plan grew with execution and revision—Wundt’s read- 
ers again demanded new editions; and the contents of the 
successive volumes are now distinguished as Language (2), 
Art, Myth and Religion (3), Society (2), Law, and Civilisa- 
tion and History. 

It is needless to lay stress on the intellectual vigor of a man 
who begins the publication of a work of this magnitude when 
he is sixty-eight, and continues its production over a period 
of twenty years. It is needless also to inform the JouRNAL’s 
readers that Wundt’s reputation has not suffered, has rather 

25“ Fintheilung der wissenschaftlichen Philosophie,” System, 1889, 


26 The one large logical flaw of the System is the acceptance of the 
Idee des letzten Weltgrundes. Wundt honestly shows us his hand: 
“abweichend von allen anderen Vernunftideen ist dieselbe namlich 
nicht durch einen directen Regressus von der Erfahrung aus erhalten 
worden, sondern nur infolge der allgemeinen Forderung, dass zu dem 
im Fortschrift der geistigen Entwicklungen sich vorbereitenden idealen 
Enderfolg ein dem letzteren vollstandig adaquater Grund hinzugedacht 
werde” (439). He was himself subject to influences, historical and 
personal, which we who read him may not feel. 

27 A bibliography of Wundt’s scientific writings will be found in this 
Journat, vols. xix. (1908) ff. 


(if possible) been enhanced, by his last achievement. I wish, 
however, to linger a little over the Vélkerpsychologie in order 
to protest against a belief, current in recent years and in 
some measure encouraged by Wundt himself,?* which I take 
to be grounded at best in a half-truth. A legend has grown 
up—lI cannot call it anything else—to the effect that social 
psychology was Wundt’s first and fondest love, and that all 
his life, up to about 1890, was spent in clearing intruders out 
of the way, that he might ultimately return to it. In part, 
the long stretch of years devoted to the Vélkerpsychologie may 
be responsible; in part, as I have just said, certain statements 
of Wundt’s own, made in what appears to be unnecessary self- 
defence ;?° in part, perhaps, a misunderstanding of the part 
played by social psychology in the early Vorlesungen, which 
are naturally more talked about than read. I should not accept 
this legend if it came with Wundt’s own subscription ; I should 
mistrust an old man’s memory. I do not think that anyone 
can accept it who knows intimately the course of Wundt’s 
development as his books portray it. At the beginning and 
for many years social psychology was rather for Wundt, as 
I called it above, a troublesome subject. 

The kernel of truth in the legend is that Wundt was always 
attracted by troublesome subjects of a certain sort, subjects 
offering a certain type of data and inviting a certain kind of 
method. All of the major books bear a like stamp; they 
round up an incomplete and scattered subject-matter into ten- 
tative union and completeness; they are anticipations of sys- 
tem. They all, therefore, have about them a temporary and 
provisional air; they seem to promise new editions, to warn 
the reader that they will presently change. The preface to 
the first edition of the Physiologische Psychologie strikes the 
key-note: “die Orientirung tber den Thatbestand einer 

im Entstehen begriffenen Wissenschaft ist ja be- 
kanntlich das beste Mittel, die noch vorhandenen Liicken zu 
entdecken.” That note recurs, with such changes rung on 
it as the nature of the case demands, in every preface that 
Wundt wrote, from the Vorlesungen to the Vélkerpsychologie. 
“Man kann méglicherweise sueliha.” ’ he says of the System, 
“ob es angemessen sei, fiir eine derartige Untersuchung den 
alten Namen der Metaphysik zu wahlen:” it is a new sys- 
tematisation that he is attempting, the exposition of things 

28 E. g., in the preface to Die Sprache, 1900. 

29 Wirth, if I understand him aright, thinks that Wundt found 
Fechner’s controversial insistence troublesome, and was a little afraid 
of getting side-tracked by applied mathematics: Arch. f. d. ges. Psych., 
xl., 1920, xii. ff. Wirth, I take it, is also on the defensive. 


from an unaccustomed point of view. Wundt is an essayist, 
only that his topics are not items but fields of knowledge.*° 
It is small wonder, then, that—psychologist as he always was 
—he should be disquieted by the status and haunted by the 
problems of Voélkerpsychologie, and should rejoice at last to 
bring psychological order into that chaos. But this is not to 
say what the legend says. 

The twofold character of Wundt’s work, as at once sys- 
tematic and provisional, is a source both of strength and of 
weakness. It is obviously a good thing, if you are laying 
a case before the public, to think it steadily through, to view 
it in relations, to state it whole; so the argument becomes 
not only more impressive but also easier to grasp. It is a 
good thing, if you rely upon observations of fact, to sweep 
all your facts together, to organise them within a logical 
framework; so you become aware of support in unexpected 
quarters as well as of gaps that further work must fill. It is 
a necessary thing, if you are a man of science, to keep your 
ideas fluid, to let your theories sit lightly on you, to be open- 
minded toward new facts, to hold obstinately fast to nothing 
save the scientific point of view. But these good and neces- 
sary things imply a balance, and the balance of system and 
try-out, of system and first attempt, is not eaSy to maintain. 
,Wundt was perpetually changing his evidence of observed fact 
and his minor perspectives; he expected to change them; the 
early data were but approximate and his first organisation of 
them must reflect their faults.** In so far he was plastic 

80 This view of Wundt’s work is substantially the same as that taken 
by E. Meumann in the appreciation written for Wundt’s eightieth 
birthday (Deutsche Rundschau, clii., 1912, 217 f., 220 ff.). Meumann 
and I roo-ned together during my second year at Leipzig, and by dint 
of endless discussion and reference succeeded in pigeon-holing Wundt 
to our satisfaction. 

31 Critics have made Wundt’s readiness to change a ground of com- 
plaint; he changed his views surreptitiously, they say, without warning 
the reader or giving due credit to the men who forced the change. 
In so far as this charge implies moral obliquity on Wundt’s part, it 
is ridiculous; Wundt, as all who knew him will testify and as his 
whole public career shows, was as honest as the day. Where he 
found a positive reason for noting change, he could be meticulously 
definite: witness the second edition of the Vorlesungen. Usually he 
thought it enough to assure his readers that he had taken the task of 
revision seriously, that the new edition was an edition and not a 
reprint, and to give a bare indication of the chapters most affected. 

There is, however, no smoke without fire; and the critics in ques- 
tion are, I think, in fact objecting to a temperamental trait of Wundt’s, 
his natural mode of reaction to criticism and suggestion. Kiilpe, with 
whom I once talked this matter over, pointed out to me that Wundt’s 
development was always a development from within; his immediate 


and receptive to an uncommon degree, and at an age when 
most men have settled down to fixed opinion., He did not 
either hesitate to throw overboard large theoretical construc- 
tions that his riper thinking disapproved; there is a great 
gulf between the Beitrage and the Vorlesungen on the one 
hand and the Physiologische Psychologie on the other. Yet 
he succumbed, without any doubt, to the temptations of the 
system. After 1874 (to take a rough dating) he showed 
little inclination to discard or revise his conceptual schemata ; 
what had once been mere scaffolding thus tended to become 
an integral part of the actual building; or, to vary the figure 
again, Wundt poured the new wine of his later thought into 
the old bottles that he had more or less hurriedly assembled for 
his first successful vintage. .I know, from many conversations, - 
that he held his theories far more loosely than his readers 
ordinarily suppose, and that his greatest reverence was for 
fact. Yet it remains true that, when he had erected a theory, 
on however scant a basis of fact, he seemed as if in honor 
bound to defend it in his subsequent work. The theory might 
be changed contentwise out of all recognition; formally, 
nevertheless, it remained the original theory. 

Had Wundt himself been aware that he was moving farther 
and farther away from his conceptual starting-points he would, 
with his indefatigable industry, have set about the task of 
revision He was in fact aware, I imagine, rather of the con- 
tinuity of his thinking; the later views seemed to him to 
be straightforward developments of the earlier, and therefore 
to be capable of expression in the same general terms. This 
sort of logical Seelenblindheit has had two regrettable conse- 
quences. The one is that Wundt was exposed to a hostile 
criticism which, as blind as he to the real issue, aimed only 
at the external and superficial, and which he accordingly and 

reaction to external suggestion was likely to be negative, but the new 
idea stayed with him, was incubated, and presently—perhaps long 
after—emerged with fresh coloring, in a novel context, variously 
modified, as a component of his own thinking. There were two con- 
sequences, which critics might very well find irritating. The first was 
that Wundt might read into early utterances of his own a pregnancy 
that they did not in truth possess; and the second (I have given an 
instance in the text) was that a positive statement might stand beside 
a negative criticism of the pre-Wundtian view which had, to all ap- 
pearances, given occasion for the modified Wundtian formula. Other 
circumstances, social and professional, would possibly have made 
Wundt both more accessible and less sensitive to outside influence. 
But seventeen years of depression, followed by a rapid rise to a posi- 
tion that may almost be called pontifical, naturally served to harden 
his temperamental tendencies. 


properly resented; the other is that students of Wundt must 
read his books in series, and can never hope to understand 
him fully from any single presentation of his thought. 

We came to this discussion by way of the Vélkerpsychologie. 
Retracing our steps still further, we arrive again at the first 
of the three ideas of the Beitrage, the idea of an experi- 
mental psychology. What Wundt made of this idea, so far 
as results go, all the world knows; what obstacles he had to 
overcome, and with what fortitude and persistence he over- 
came them, we shall probably never know. 

In 1874 appeared the Grundziige der physiologischen Psy- 
chologie, Wundt’s most influential work. Beginning as a sin- 
gle-volume book, it grew to two volumes in the editions of 
1880, 1887, 1893, and to three volumes in those of 1902-03 
and 1908-11. In the first edition Wundt’s psychology is in 
many ways crude; but it is nevertheless psychology, and not 
the applied logic of the Beitrage and the Vorlesungen; Wundt 
has struck his gait.** The controlling influences of his career 
were evidently operative between his thirty-first and forty- 
second years, though it is difficult to make out what they 
were. Perhaps the forthcoming autobiographical Erlebtes und 
Erkanntes will inform us. ° 

Meanwhile we get no help from the list of publications. 
Wundt was busy, during the critical period, with his Physi- 
ology (1865, 1868, 1873); with Die physikalischen Axiome 
(1866); with the Medical Physics (1867); with the first 
part of his Mechanics of Nerve (1871). There is 
only a solitary article of 1867 entitled Neue Lets- 
tungen auf dem Gebiete der physiologischen Psychol- 
ogie. And when he comes to write the Physiologische 
Psychologie, he relies for his physiological chapters, to be 
sure, on the work of these years of transition, but for his 
psychological data he goes back primarily to the Beitrage 
and secondarily to the Vorlesungen. No doubt he was matur- 
ing, fulfilling his normal inward growth. I think it a safe 
guess, however, that a strong negative influence emanated 
from Helmholtz, the final parts of whose Optik were issued 

32 The Jubilaums Katalog der Verlagsbuchhandlung Wilhelm Engel- 
mann in Leipeig (i., 1911, facing p. 90) contains a facsimile of the 
letter in which Wundt offered the manuscript of the Physiologische 
Psychologie to the firm for publication. The letter is dated Decr. 8, 
1872, and suggests that printing may begin in Feb. of the following 
year. Wundt outlines the work in five parts: the physiological prop- 
erties of the nervous system, the doctrine of sensation and idea, the 
doctrine of organic movements, criticism of psychological doctrines, 
and general theory of psychophysical occurrence. 


in 1866. Even the outward form of the Psychologie seems to 
indicate a certain feeling of rivalry. 

Be that as it may, the Physiologische Psychologie was ac- 
complished. Throughout the first four editions Wundt tried 
to keep it encyclopaedic, to make it a handbook of experi- 
mental psychology at large; the third edition is the best of 
these four. In the fifth and sixth editions he gave up that 
attempt, and frankly set forth his own psychological system. 
The change coincides with the ending of the Philosophische 
Studien and the founding of Meumann’s Archiv, and its re- 
sult is rather to maintain than to alter the status of the book. 
Wundt’s laboratory had long been the heart and centre of 
psychological production; now the laboratories had multi- 

Here, then, is Wundt’s first achievement in the domain of ° 
his experimental psychology. We can hardly overestimate 
it. As a work of reference the Physiologische Psychologie 
has been invaluable; its mere bulk and solidity have been an 
asset to a struggling science; the labor spent upon its revision 
has advantaged us all. But a greater achievement was to come. 

In 1879—so runs the line in the biographies--Wundt 
founded the first psychological laboratory. We may let the 
bare line stand, if only it stand in lapidary letters. For that 
foundation was a world-event; it determined the very fabric 
and texture of modern psychology. Where John Mill theor- 
ised, Wundt performed ; and the spirit of his performance has 
spread over the civilised world.* 

Lastly, in 1881 Wundt began the publication of a magazine, 
Philosophische Studien,** the last two of whose twenty volumes 
(1902) constitute a Festschrift prepared by his former stu- 
dents for the occasion of his seventieth birthday. Unwearied 

88 In 1902 the Zeitschrift had reached only its thirtieth volume, and 
the division of the two Abteilungen was still ten volumes away. 

384] knew, in my Leipzig days, something in detail of the difficulties 
that Wundt had to encounter. I wish I could trust my memory to 
rehearse them. I recall that strenuous objection was made to the new 
laboratory on the ground that continued self-observation would drive 
young persons to insanity! Instead of that, the success of the novel 
enterprise moved older persons to imitation. Wundt was fortunate 
enough to gain, in 1891, a colleague like-minded with himself,—the 
historian K. Lamprecht; and Wundt and Lamprecht together are 
primarily responsible for the development at Leipzig of those For- 
schungsinstitute that are a legitimate source of pride to the university. 

385 Wundt has more than once rationalized the title of this publica- 
tion. The author of Ein Druckfehler bei Kant might refer to the 
preface of the Vorlesungen, where Wundt remarks “dass die philo- 
sophischen Studien nur in den Erfahrungswissenschaften den Boden 
einer fruchtbringenden Entwicklung finden kénnen.” 


as ever, he started a new series, Psychologische Studien, in 
1905,°* and carried it through ten volumes to his retirement 
from the Leipzig chair in 1917. These two Studien-sets have 
an individuality that will always mark them off from other 
psychological periodicals. In the earlier, we see experimental 
psychology in the making; problems at first are few, methods 
are imperfect, mode of presentation is uncertain, perspec- 
tive is almost lacking. But there is a steady growth, extensive 
and intensive; a professional attitude forms; and when we 
reach the Festschrift we find topics from the whole range of 
psychology—physiological and philosophical, normal and ab- 
normal, individual and social, current and historical—com- 
petently and fruitfully handled in the Wundtian way. The 
later volumes present a different picture. Here we see the 
specifically Leipzig problems attacked with the utmost refine- 
ments of Leipzig technique. The Philosophische Studien thus 
have the attraction of eine im Entstehen begriffenen Wissen- 
schaft; the Psychologische Studien have the fascination of 
expert workmanship in a single style. 

It was, of course, a physical impossibility for Wundt, at 
his advanced age, personally to oversee the details of the 
experimental work carried out in his institute; W. Wirth was 
appointed co-director in 1908. But Wundt’s editorship of the 
Studien was never perfunctory, and his interest in experi- 
mental psychology was always vigorous. In 1898 he was 
experimenting with the geometrical-optical illusions. In 1902-3 
—Die Sprache appeared in 1900—he was, for the first time, 
overtly systematising his general or individual psychology. 
In 1906 he upheld the sensory character of black. In 1907 
he launched his attack upon the methods of the Wiirzburg 
school: in the interest, truly, of his own social-psychological 
theory, but in the most intimate terms of laboratory experi- 
mentation. In 1908 he published the first volume of the new 
Physiologische Psychologie, whose ninth chapter bears witness 
to an extraordinary resurgence of interest in the fundamental 
problems of psychophysics. In 1909 he discussed the issue 
of pure and applied psychology. In 1911 he revised and re- 
published the Psychologie und Naturwtssenschaft of 1903 As 
late as 1914 he wrote about the illusions of reversible per- 
spective. Surely, there is no gainsaying this evidence! The 

36 Meumann’s Archiv was first issued in 1903, overlapping the 
eighteenth volume of the Studien. Wundt was one of its cooperating 
editors, and agreed to publish in it the studies from the Leipzig lab- 
oratory. For the reason stated in his Vorwort—Wirth (op. cit., ii) 
gives it as “ die damalige gliickliche Lage des deutschen Buchhandels ”— 
Wundt preferred to recur to an organ of his own. 


Volkerpsychologie, if 1 may repeat what has been said above, 
is a typically Wundtian book, an anticipatory system on the 
grand scale; it is the resolute outcome of a long period of 
perplexity ; it furnished a grateful occupation for his old age; 
it is a work of exceeding value. But the dominant idea of ’ 
Wundt’s life, the idea upon which his reputation is most solidly 
based, the idea that persisted with him up to the very end of 
his university activity, is the idea of an experimental psy- 

And in a footnote to this list of his services in behalf of » 
the idea, let us remember that Wundt was the first psychologist 
to bring demonstrational apparatus into the lecture-room. In 
his earliest Leipzig lectures he exhibited instruments and went 
through the motions of experiment. Very soon, however, he 
came to see the real purpose of a demonstration: the pro- 
vision, namely, of conditions under which the audience may 
observe for themselves the fundamental phenomena of the 
subject-matter of discussion. His use of the lantern with 
illusions of reversible perspective, a brief account of which 
he published in 1907, is a very model of demonstrational 

It is plain that Wundt, whatever his intellectual gifts, could 
not have compassed this bulk of scientific work had he not 
been dowered with a good physical constitution and had he 
not lived a strictly regulated life. His days passed, in fact, 
with the regularity of clockwork. The morning was spent 
upon the current book or article; then came the Sprechstunde. 
The afternoon was taken up with the formal visit to the 
laboratory, a walk, the lecture, and a second, informal return 
to the laboratory. The evening was variously employed; 
Wundt might listen to a reader, or attend a concert or opera, 
or receive a group of his colleagues. For all his immersion 
in science, he managed remarkably to ‘keep up’ with current 
movements of literature and art. In personal intercourse he 
was unassuming, cordial, tolerant ; by no means given to mono- 
logue ; showing frequent flashes of a pleasant, wholly academic 

87 Wundt exerted a great and ever increasing influence as a lecturer. 
His habit was to throw his ideas into shape during his afternoon con- 
stitutional, and to speak without notes, though he always had a rough 
scheme of the topic in his pocket. I remember an occasion when his 
memory played him false in the matter of the name of a minor Greek 
philosopher; he extracted the paper of notes, and scanned it while 
still talking; but the notes, too, left him in the lurch, and the philoso- 
pher for that day went unmentioned. This is the only time that I 
knew him to refer in lecture to any written aid; and he remarked 
afterward that the experience had not been encouraging. 


humor. There was no trace, as one sat with him in his own 
study, of the roaring lion of controversy or the somewhat 
Olympian arbiter of science and philosophy. He disliked public 
ceremonies, and could not be persuaded even to attend a psy- 
chological congress, though when occasion demanded his 
public appearance he played his part with dignity and suc- 
cess. He also disliked travelling, and his holiday excursions 
never took him far afield. These reluctances undoubtedly nar- 
rowed the sphere of his acquaintance, and so perhaps of his 
personal influence ; but when the influence was already world- 
wide, when everybody who was interested in the things of 
mind came sooner or later to Leipzig, and when a greater 
Geselligkeit would have meant loss of productive time, they 
did not after all much matter. Wundt lived the simple family 
life of the old south-west German tradition, a retiring, shel- 
tered life, which was probably the one condition under which 
his tremendous self-appointed task could have been ac- 

As to the ultimate significance of that task, it would be the 
part of wisdom to keep silence; we stand too near to Wundt 
to see him in a just perspective. But I have formed my 
judgment, and will state it for what it may be worth. _I 
take Wundt to be the first great figure in the history of 
thought whose temperament—disposition, attitude, habitual 
mode of approach to scientific problems—is that of the scien- 
tific psychologist., Whatever else Wundt might be doing, he 
also psychologised. He did not easily find himself; we have 
seen that there were years of wandering in the wilderness, 
and we have seen that the guidance which led him out of it 
is not readily determinable. When once he was free, how- 
ever, he walked steadfastly in the path; year by year his 
psychology became sounder, as it also became more and more 
inclusive. A distinguished European psychologist wrote to 
me recently that he held no high opinion of Wundt’s psy- 
chology because its theoretical views seemed to him to be 
nearly always wrong. Personally I do not greatly care about 
theoretical views; they are nothing more than an individual’s 
blundering effort to bracket together and make manageable 
some large unruly body of observed facts. We may be sure, 
realising the limits of our acquaintance with fact, that what- 
ever view we adopt will be inadequate, and we may fairly 
expect that increased knowledge will wholly discard it. We 
can only do our best with the facts available, as Wundt did, 
and trust to the future to do better by aid of further facts. 
But if a man is to gain his niche in history, he must have 


the total vision, the generative idea. And for that reason I 
believe that when Wundt’s special theories have utterly per- 
ished his fame will still endure; it will endure because, for 
all the hampering influence of the past, he established a new 
point of view and from it surveyed the whole scientific and 
philosophical domain. In this sense I am prepared to say 
that Wundt is the founder, not of experimental psychology 
alone, but of psychology. 


The earliest portrait of Wundt that I know of is the academic 
photograph, reproduced by G. S. Hall in “ Founders of Modern Psy- 
thology,” which shows him in three-quarter face at about the age of 
forty-five. The portrait is of especial ii.terest because Wundt’s right 
retina had not yet suffered the injury that led to strabismus. An 
academic photograph of some ten years later is an excellent profile 
picture. I have also a very good platinotype enlargement of a three- 
quarter face, made by the university photographer, C. Bellach, in 1897. 
The Berliner Photographische Gesellschaft publishes a reproduction 
of a painting (almost full-face) by Dora Arnd-Raschid, which is an 
admirable rendering of first impression and remains, to my mind, 
distinctly preferable to the later official photographs. N. Perscheid’s 
photograph of 1904 (published by the Berliner Photog. Ges. and re- 
produced in the album of photographs edited by M. Brahn for the 
Leipzig University jubilee) has its merits of pose; but it, as well as 
the photograph accompanying Wundt’s Festrede in the official Jubilee 
volume, gives him a look of stolidity which is altogether misleading. 
The current postcard photograph exaggerates this effect of stolidity. 
There are photographs extant of the group that gathered at Tambach 
in the Thiringer Wald on the occasion of Wundt’s seventieth birthday ; 
all four members of his family appear in them. The Jubilee book 
entitled “ Die Universitat Leipzig 1409-1909” contains a full-face pen- 
and-ink sketch by O. R. Bossert, which at first sight strikes one as 
caricature, but which takes on resemblance as one grows familiar 
with it. Wirth publishes as frontispiece to the 40th volume of the 
Archiv a pencil-sketch (profile) made shortly after Wundt’s death by 
Felix Pfeifer—These, aside from the print in the Open Court Series 
and a few unimportant reproductions in popular magazines, are all the 
portraits of Wundt known to me. 

In 1905 (the year of the golden jubilee of Wundt’s doctorate) a 
bronze plaque showing the face in profile was prepared by Pfeifer. 
The bronze is eminently satisfactory; the reproduction accompanying 
Wirth’s memorial article is disappointing; the rounding of the temple 
and the hollowing of the lower cheek, both characteristic features, are 
largely lost. The bronze can be obtained in two sizes; Wirth gives 
price and other particulars. Some ten years later a larger bronze 
plaque was made by Max Lange. There is a reproduction in the Leip- 
siger Illustrierte Zeitung (1916?). There is also a bust by Max 
Klinger. Wirth calls it “gewaltig, aber kiinstlerisch stilisiert.” I have 
seen neither original nor any reproduction.— 


I do not know if there are any official photographic memorials of 
the old laboratory in the Konuiktgebaude. I have a _ pencil-sketch, 
looking from the first room, with its stove and chronograph, through 
the Vorzimmer and past the resonance box for the giant fork to the 
entrance-door; and I have five amateur photographs of rooms, one 
of them showing Kiilpe lecturing in the auditorium. I shall be glad 
to know if there is anything else. 

Wundt, in his historical article (Festschrift . . . der Universitat 
Leipzig, iv., 1, 1909, 118 ff.), says that this old laboratory had five 
rooms; I imagine that one or two had been partitioned. At any rate 
I remember more. The Vorzimmer (1) was a narrow entry that 
served only as storeroom. Then came (2) the first room, with chrono- 
graph, case for tools and instruments, and table for optical work. Out 
of this opened (3) the dark room, in which “eine mit Riib6l gespeiste 
Moderateurlampe” used up more than its fair share of oxygen. Be- 
yond the first room lay (4) the second room, with chronoscopes and 
instrument-case. Somewhere alongside of this, probably continuous 
with the dark room, was (5) Wundt’s private room, which must have 
been served by a special staircase, since Wundt used to appear out of 
it and disappear into it without passing through other rooms. As I 
remember the glimpses through the open door, it contained nothing 
but a table and a couple of chairs. Finally, beyond the second room, 
came (6) the last of the suite, the Lesezgimmer. Across the corridor 
were (7) a room containing the reaction keys and stimulators, elec- 
trically connected with (4), and (8) a small room containing the 
gravity phonometer, the Wundt pendulum, the Fechner pendulum, etc. 
If we count only (2), (4), (6), (7) and (8), we have Wundt’s five 
rooms. g 


By Henry Jones Mutrorp, M. D., Buffalo, N. Y. 

The world always has found the mind of the child inter- 
esting. Heretofore that interest has been an idle interest 
aroused by seemingly incongruous manifestations within the 
child-mind ; but latterly the interest has taken on a serious 
intent. The merely glancing curiosity has become a focussed 
curiosity. The incongruous has appeared so regularly and 
so constantly that there has seemed to be some order in its 
manifestations, and the world at last has been forced to 
change its attitude. The attitude now is scientific. The world 
now seeks for the reason behind the manifestations, and in 
that search is exploring the whole aspect of the human mind. 
But the quest has had its difficulties. This territory, a verita- 
ble terra incognita, has been difficult of approach. In such 
territory direction must be sought and paths cut; and it has 
followed, naturally, that the investigator has made many 
starts in false directions. 

But now, while the quest is difficult, is it as difficult as it 
has been made? Is mind the unknowable thing it has seemed 
to be? It is if we accept mind as an entity by itself, as a 
superphysical manifestation; for then the method of its mani- 
festation is difficult to understand. It is not, if we accept 
mind as a natural phenomenon, as a phenomenon having a 
physical basis; for then all that we have to do to make it 
clear is to discover its physical origin. 

And here we do not have far to seek, not farther than the 
brain; for is not the brain the physical basis of mind? Is 
not the evidence all in favor of this hypothesis? The gradual 
development of mind keeping pace with the gradual develop- 
ment of the brain; the absence of mind where there is absence 
of brain; the imperfect mind where there is itnperfect brain; 
the suppression of mind where there is pressure upon the 
cerebral cortex, and its return when the pressure is removed. 
We find in fact that, as is the cerebral cortex of man, so is 
his mind. Every cell in that cortex reflects mind, every 
swelling convolution is an index of its increasing power. 

Mind, therefore, is a physical manifestation; and, as an 
individual expression, reflects the peculiarities of the indi- 
vidual through whom it is manifested. The manifestation 



proceeds through the brain, but may be modified by the 
behavior of any of the other organs of the body. That is, 
the physical constitution determines the psychical constitu- 
tion; the make-up of the individual determines his trend. 
That the mind is nothing beyond a physical expression must 
be so, for no living structure can express itself except in 
terms of its own cells: every tissue is limited by its own con- 
stitution. Among the living things upon this earth each sep- 
arate group has its own radius of action; and in each group 
the individuals of that group have their own idiosyncrasies 
arising from individual peculiarities of structure. In man 
there is a greater individuality; there is a wider latitude in 
brain development; and it is this wider latitude that has 
brought about the development of the human mind. This 
greater radius of action has proceeded through the greater 
flexibility of the human brain. This brain has come into its 
own through the development of self-consciousness, through 
the faculty of conscious direction. Brain has developed mind, 
and now mind is developing brain. 

A contradiction now becomes apparent. If the make-up 
of the individual determines the trend of his mind, how 
is it possible for that mind to choose its own direction? There 
may be discovered in this situation a suggestion Of the highest 
importance leading to the proper understanding of the human 
mind; it contains a revelation of the process through which 
mind is developed. There is here a conflict ; a conflict between 
the Past and the Present for the determination of the Future; 
the Past represented by the structure of the brain, the Present 
by environment as it acts upon that structure, and the Future 
by the result, that is, the individual. The conflict here is 
the old, never-ending conflict between heredity and environ- 
ment as to which shall control the individual. And this is a 
real conflict. The Past, with its ancestral line extending back 
to the very beginning of human life, objects to resigning a 
control so long established ; while the Present, conscious of its 
own purpose, demands that it be given a voice in the direction 
of affairs. The outcome of this conflict will be as the outcome 
of any conflict: the stronger will win. Following this rule 
the outcome will not be always to the advantage of the indi- 
vidual; he will not always have the choice as to his own 
direction. But there is a way to obviate this result. The 
individual may, if he wishes, make his own choice. But this 
will depend upon the state of development in which his mind 
rests, upon his degree of self-consciousness, whether he knows 
what he is doing. If he does know, if his state of conscious- 


ness is such that his mind can rise above impulse, his future 
is safe in his own hands. 

Finding, then, that mind is an expression of the brain, 
we find also that, following the law of development of animal 
organs, the expression varies with the age. In accordance 
with that law the child-mind is a primitive mind; it is the 
primitive expression of a primitive organ. In this organ the 
conflict between the past and the present is, though very acute, 
very one-sided. The past is the dominant influence, but the 
present is making strenuous efforts to secure a foothold. 
Heredity and environment are striving for the mastery, but 
heredity holds the advantage in that it is the older. 

Our understanding of the child-mind, then, depends upon 
our understanding of the child-brain, how it is developed and 
what it means. The child-brain represents the primitive 
human brain, the brain of a million years ago. In this brain 
the conflict between the past and the present has only just 
begun. It is emerging from the purely animal stage, but it 
is carrying with it the attributes of that stage; the brute is 
becoming the man, but the brute brain, following the habit 
of another million years, still asserts itself. It is this double 
expression of function in the human brain that confuses us. 
The Past and the Present are two separate entities ; but, using 
the same apparatus, they appear as one. Our confusion has 
arisen through our looking upon these two as being, both of 
them, manifestations of mind. And there has been the great 
error. Only one is a manifestation of mind, the other being 
merely reflex action. Mind is consciousness, is the knowledge 
how to direct the brain reaction; the reflex is pure automatism, 
the response to external stimuli without conscious direction. 
But the mind, while itself a directing power, may be directed 
by the reflex, even though the reflex lies outside of con- 
sciousness. This is, in truth, the dominant reaction within 
the child-mind. Let us see how this comes about. 

Every individual living at this moment is the present mani- 
festation of an ancestral line extending back into the very 
mists of the beginning. Every human being represents a 
line of human life at least one million years long, and of life 
behind the human of no one knows how many millions. It 
may be perceived from this how complicated a structure the 
human organism is. It is a structure built up by slow, toil- 
some effort through countless epochs, each epoch having left 
its mark thereon. That this is so is becoming more and more 
evident ; the slowly accumulating evidence of man’s past points 
always in the one direction. Is it not true that the living 


things upon this earth to-day are but the descendants of other 
remote forms? Nature proceeds from one form to another; 
there is no spontaneous generation of higher forms. Man 
being a part of Nature can be no exception to its rules. He 
must have come from a lower form, and that lower form 
must have been an animal very closely related to him in 
structure. Of a truth the early man was little better than 
an animal. It must follow, then, that the man-brain in the 
beginning was no greater than its possessor, for the man and 
the brain are synchronous. 

The transition from animal to man covered a period of 
great length. And this was in accordance with another law 
of Nature: the longer the period of development, the better 
the individual. In the beginning Nature made it easy for 
the developing man, for it was her purpose to nurse him into 
a strength that should endure through the long ages that 
were to be his upon this earth. The primitive environment 
was a supremely comfortable one; it was, in reality, a lazy 
one, for it was non-stimulating. The climate always was 
mild, food always was within easy reach; the primitive mind 
had little to disturb it. Life was at ease. The primitive mind 
did not even have to think for itself, its environment not 
being thought-inducive; and, not being obliged to think, the 
primitive mind remained as it had begun, a merely automatic 
function. It responded to external stimuli through the reflex ; 
what little thought it had was reflex thought; mind was not 
yet strong enough to control the reaction. 

The animal, whether brute-animal or man-animal, is a crea- 
ture of reflexes: he is governed by reflex action. In the man- 
animal these reflexes manifest themselves in three directions. 
There is the basic reflex or cell irritability, there is the motor 
reflex, and there is the thought reflex. If we examine these 
carefully we shall find that they have developed as the human 
organism has developed; we find, in fact, that the organism 
has developed through these. If we go back a hundred 
million years to the solitary cell, to the time when it is esti- 
mated that life began upon this planet, we catch our first 
glimpse of the reflex. There we find cell irritability answer- 
ing every purpose of the cell. The reaction there is rela- 
tively simple, being the reaction to a primitive environment. 
But now, advancing our investigation a few millions of years, 
we come to a period where the single cells have associated 
together to form organs, and the organs to form organisms. 
In these positions independent cell-action would mean inhar- 
monious action; for not only are the cells grouped together, 


but they also have become differentiated. Cells thrown to- 
gether into a group cannot act as independent cells, they must 
act together; and the different groups also must act together, 
else the organism will disrupt itself through the clashing of 
independent movements. And so we find here the demand for 
something that will harmonise the activities of the various 
independences. The primitive nervous system answered that 
demand, a system made up of a few nerve fibres conducting 
impulses to a central station, a station that was nothing more 
than a receiving station. Again jumping our investigation 
ahead, we find ourselves at a period when the organism, having 
reached to a very high degree of development, needs self- 
direction in order to utilize its higher power. It is at this 
period that we find the human brain coming into existence. 

All of these reflexes interest us, each one according to its 
position. We are interested in the first, in cell irritability, 
because it is the starting point of all the reflexes. In the 
primitive cell the reflex was the expression of the reaction 
between the cell protoplasm and its environment. The pur- 
pose of this reaction was to maintain the well-being of the 
cell. It was, primarily, a reaction to food, but out of it have 
been developed consciousness and sex. In its search for food 
the cell came into contact with three varieties of substance: 
substances that maintained the integrity of its protoplasm, 
food; substances that were harmful to its protoplasm, foreign 
bodies; and the substance of other cells that revivified the 
cellular protoplasm and furthered the increase in the number 
of cells through segmentation. Out of contact with foreign 
bodies was developed tactile sensation, and, out of tactile 
sensation has come consciousness; out of intercellular con- 
tact has come sex. Consciousness, being a supremely higher 
expression of function and far more subtle, has required the 
full term of life upon this planet for its development; while 
sex, being an earlier requirement of animate organisms, was 
developed very early in the evolutionary process. It might be 
said, too, that out of this reaction to environment comes path- 
ology. Overstimulation of the cell protoplasm produces ex- 
citement, and overexcitement in its turn produces fatigue, and 
there will follow either an impairment of function or its 
entire suppression. 

Coming now to the motor reflex, we reach the reflex that 
is of the first importance in our present discussion, for it is 
through this that the mind had, and has, its real beginning. 
It was the first in actual brain development; it was the first 
visible reaction of the primitive nervous system; and it has 


been the dominating influence in the development of that sys- 
tem. Development of the higher centres adjacent to the motor 
has followed through the motor. The primitive central ner- 
vous system was, as we have seen, nothing more than an 
automatic station where the incoming stimuli were received, 
synchronized, and returned as motor impulses. But these 
reactions were inflexible ; they always were the same. A given 
reflex always performed in the same direction. Being auto- 
matic it could not vary; its mechanism was set in the one 
certain direction. And, later, when the real brain came into 
action, this method persisted; for this brain having developed 
through the primitive system could act only after the manncr 
of that system. Even though the animal possessed a brain 
his actions were not man-actions, for he did not yet possess 
man-consciousness ; his brain was not yet fully organized. It 
was not yet able to direct itself. At the same time its reach 
was beyond that of the primitive station. It was the function 
of the primitive station to preside over the non-conscious activi- 
ties of the organism, while the brain, ultimately, was to pre- 
side over the conscious; the one synchronized the organic 
activities, while the other was to direct the organism as a 
whole. The one must, of necessity, be automatic; and the 
other, while destined to proceed beyond mere automatism, had 
to begin as had the other. And so, when we come to the 
primitive man-animal, we find his actions the actions of the 
primitive brute-animal. They did not proceed through the 
thought reflexes of the man, they came through the motor 
reflexes of the animal. His radius of action, therefore, was 
limited ; being reflex it was inflexible. 

A third and last jump along the evolutionary path advances 
us to the period of thought-development. The primary in- 
fluence in the production of thought was environment. Brain 
already had been developed, but it was brain that was not 
conscious of itself. But now great variations took place in 
environment. Extreme mildness of atmosphere gave place 
to extreme cold, and cold again to mildness; fearful con- 
vulsions of Nature altered the face of the earth; food became 
more and more scarce, and other living things needing food 
more and more numerous. The most important event in the 
history of primitive man took place during this period: the 
differentiation of his hands. While yet an animal he had 
learned to use his fore-feet as hands; but this use was auto- 
matic in that he used both hands as one. But now a varying 
environment brought varying uses for his hands. The work 
of the two hands was becoming finer, that of the right pre- 


ceding and going beyond that of the left. It was the diverse 
influences of a varying environment that developed conscious 
man out of a merely automatic animal; but it was the in- 
creasing importance of his upper extremities that furthered 
the development of man’s consciousness. 

The new man was making new movements with his hands, 
movements that were, literally, out of reach of the brute: and 
he was associating those new movements with his higher re- 
flexes. His consciousness was taking hold of them. The new 
movements meant different and finer adjustments of his mus- 
cles, meant independent action of the various groups, and a 
finer co-ordination between the groups themselves. They 
meant, also, co-ordination between the reflexes of those mus- 
cles and the higher reflexes; they meant that thought was 
becoming associated with action. And this increase in the reflex 
radius made further and further demands upon the brain. 
Following these demands the brain was forced to adapt itself 
to the new stimuli coming in to it. 

It is to be regretted that we have no fossil remains of the 
brains of our remote ancestors, that we might compare the 
structure of the perhistoric brain with that of the brain of 
to-day. A number of skeletal remains have been uncovered 
in the deep layers of the earth’s crust, but the soft parts, 
because of their very nature, were not able to endure with 
them. But advancing knowledge, knowledge built upon re- 
search and reason, is bringing to us a revelation of what the 
primitive brain actually was. In the light of this knowledge 
we are catching glimpses of the brain of primitive man and 
of that of his immediate ancestor, pre-man. This knowledge 
comes to us from two directions: from the examination of 
skulls found among the skeletal remains of primitive indi- 
viduals ; and from the examination of living brains that seem 
to approximate, in size and structure, those of the primitive 

Inspection of a primitive skull reveals the following facts 
in regard to the individual to whom it belonged. First, the 
layer of the earth’s crust in which it is found will determine 
the epoch of the earth’s history to which the individual 
belonged when living. Secondly, the external configuration of 
the skull will determine whether the individual was brute or 
man. The determining factors here are: size and shape of the 
skull as a whole; size and external configuration of the indi- 
vidual bones, this applying especially to the bones to which 
the muscles of mastication and to those to which the muscles 
of the neck are attached. Thirdly, the internal configuration 


of the bones of the skull will give an idea of the development 
of the brain that occupied the skull cavity; and the size of 
the cavity will give the size of the brain. 

The living brains of to-day that will help us to an under- 
standing of the primitive brain are the brains of those prim- 
ates known to us as the anthropoid apes. In very fact, if the 
brains of the entire monkey series be examined, a very sug- 
gestive progressive relationship in regard to size and function 
will be uncovered. Let me emphasize this by going over, in 
a very superficial way, several of the varieties of brains 
belonging to the monkey family, limiting the examination to 
the lateral aspect of the cerebral hemispheres. 

Beginning with the brain of the marmoset we find the outer 
aspect of the cerebrum completely smooth, there being only 
the Sylvian fissure in evidence. 

In the brain of the capuchin monkey the convolutions begin 
to appear, the smooth surface of the cerebrum being divided 
into broad convolutions by fissures more or less superficial. 
Of this surface it is seen that the sensori-motor area, the area 
embracing the precentral and the postcentral convolutions, 
occupies about one-third, and the areas of the frontal, the 
temporal, the occipital, and the parietal lobes each about one- 

The brain of the bonnet monkey resembles very closely the 
brain of the capuchin monkey. There is the same general 
configuration, with the same relative proportion of cortex in 
the different areas; but here there is a greater attempt at 
fissure production, and hence a greater area of cerebral cortex. 

In the brain of the yellow baboon we have an organ larger 
than either of the preceding, but one in which the configura- 
tion of the cerebrum is much the same. But here the fissures 
have become decidedly deeper and more numerous, with a 
consequent greater number and a finer arrangement of the 
convolutions. In this brain the sensori-motor area occupies 
about one-fourth of the cerebral surface, and the other areas 
about the same relative proportion of surface. A point to 
be noted here is that, while the relative proportion of the 
frontal lobe is the same, the actual area of that lobe is greater 
in this brain than it is in the brain of the capuchin monkey. 

Coming now to the smallest of the anthropoids, the gibbon, 
we enter a region in which the brain topography suggests 
something more than mere brain. The sensori-motor region 
is still prominent; but those areas closely adjacent to it, the 
frontal and the parietal, the so-called areas of the higher 
centres in man, have altered. In the frontal and the temporal 


the fissures have become deeper and, for the first time, three 
distinct convolutions have appeared; in the parietal the con- 
volutions have become more complicated. 

The brain of the orang, one of the larger anthropoids, pre- 
sents a still more complicated surface, especially in the frontal 
region. The convolutions of the entire surface of the cerebrum 
are larger and extend more deeply than the convolutions of 
the cerebra of the previous brains. 

The last anthropoid brain which we shall discuss here, that 
of the chimpanzee, is the most interesting. In this brain there 
is a very close approach to the human type. Its fissures are 
deep and of good length, especially the Sylvian and the cen- 
tral; its convolutions are well modeled and of a more com- 
plicated pattern. Here for the first time we find the frontal 
region exceeding the sensori-motor in surface. The third 
frontal convolution has become tortuous and bent upon itself, 
being suggestively like the same convolution in the human 
brain. The parietal lobe has widened, and the temporal has 
increased its convolutions. 

Comparing, now, the human brain of to-day with the pre- 
ceding series we note the ascending similarity ; and the thought 
comes to us that in evolutionary history these brains must all 
be chapters in the same story. We note the general increase 
in cortex over the entire cerebrum, but more specially in 
certain regions. The frontal, parietal and temporal lobes have 
now become well-defined portions of the brain. The difference 
here is the difference that accords with the new function taken 
on by the human brain, that of mind. 

I am making no definite assertions as to the position of 
the immediate ancestors of man; I am saying, merely, that 
study of the brains of the monkey family will suggest much 
in regard to the developmental plan of the human brain. In- 
terest in this study will direct our attention in three directions: 
first, to the external configuration of the brain; secondly, to 
the microscopic structure of its convolutions; and thirdly, to 
the configuration of the inner table of the skull against which 
the convolutions lie. 

Following the suggestions it will not be difficult to trace 
the growth of the man-brain out of that of pre-man. 

The pre-brain was a negative brain. It was not self-asser- 
tive, self-directing, self-conscious; it was entirely vegetative, 
merely a reflex station. It was not active, it was reactive; 
it was not conscious, it was non-conscious. Knowing how 
this brain performed, we can gather some idea as to its form 
and structure. This brain, having been a reflex brain, had 


as its main centres those that were purely reflex, the motor 
centres and those having to do with the special senses. Among 
these the area comprising the so-called sensori-motor region, 
the precentral and the postcentral convolutions, was the oldest. 
It may be that the postcentral convolution is older than the 
precentral. The fact that the sensory fibres are medullated 
before the motor would indicate that; but this is not a vital 
point. The two work so in unison that they may be consid- 
ered to be of the same age. Following these in regular de- 
velopmental sequence came the centres for smell and taste 
in the lobus pyriformis, the centre for sight in the occipital 
lobe, and the centre for hearing in the temporal. 

These regions were the oldest regions of the animal brain; 
their centres were the first active centres, and the limit of 
action, of the pre-brain. If it were possible to inspect a pre- 
brain, and its accompanying skull, we should find that the 
brain was small and symmetrical, with the convolutions carry- 
ing the above-mentioned centres the most prominent ones of 
the entire organ. There would be other cortex, but there 
would be only enough to allow for the natural expansion that 
must follow in an organ of this character. We should find 
some cortex anterior to the precentral convolution, a very rudi- 
mentary frontal lobe; we should find some between the post- 
central convolution and the centre for sight, a beginning parieta! 
lobe; we should find a very small amount below the first 
temporal convolution; and there would be a small silent 
area in the occipital lobe. Inspection of the inner table of 
the skull enclosing this brain would reveal the impressions 
made thereon by the convolutions containing the primitive 
centres, while examination of the centres themselves by means 
of the microscope would show the characteristic cell and fibre 
arrangement of to-day in a primitive but well-marked stage 
of development. In the excess regions the microscope would 
reveal only a few scattered very rudimentary cells and fibres. 

Advancing a further stage in the animal phylogeny, to a 
period just preceding the emergence of the man-brain, we 
should probably find a brain of the type of the chimpanzee- 
brain of to-day. In this brain we find the primitive centres 
still prominent, still making the deeper markings upon the 
inner table of the skull; but we find, also, that these markings 
have altered. The positions of the deeper markings have 
changed: they are more extensive and are further apart; 
and other markings are beginning to appear. The areas of 
the primitive centres have increased somewhat, while the 
increase in the new areas has been more marked. The region 


anterior to the precentral convolution has grown forward 
into a distinct lobe, with deep fissures and complicated convo- 
lutions. The third frontal convolution, Broca’s convolution 
in the human brain, has become more complicated than any 
of the others of this region, while those convolutions closely 
anterior to the precentral are the next in the order of develop- 
ment. In the parietal and the temporal regions corresponding 
increases in the convoluted surfaces will be found. 

We see in this arrangement of the cortex of the animal- 
brain what seems to be preparation for the higher function 
of the man-brain ; in thus expanding, the animal-brain is laying 
the foundations of those centres that, arising through its own 
primitive centres, are to raise the animal to the man class. 
Comparison of the microscopic structure of the chimpanzee- 
brain with that of the man-brain will demonstrate this.1 The 
minute structure of the cerebral centres of the chimpanzee will 
be found almost to duplicate those of man. The difference 
is the difference that might be expected between an undevel- 
oped and a developed brain. 

Another step with our phylogenic seven-league boots and 
we find ourselves actually within the domain of man. The 
brain of man, well-advanced along the developmental path, 
is before us. Looking at it carefully we note the difference 
between this brain and the brain of pre-man. The pre-brain 
is small, symmetrical; the man-brain is large, asymmetrical. 
The difference is eminently one of development; develop- 
ment has increased the scope and the complication of brain- 
function, and has caused the asymmetry. The newer regions 
have doubled their capacities in the man-brain; but in the 
development of the new centres the development has proceeded 
unevenly, some have developed earlier, and some faster than 
others ; each centre, produced through long ages of effort, has 
its own position in a regular developmental sequence. It is 
thus that the human cerebra have developed irregular and 
unequal contours. 

In this brain the promise of the pre-brain is fulfilled: the 
man-brain has become an assured fact. The centres most 
concerned in this advancement are those situated within the 
frontal lobe: the centre for speech, and those centres which 
are the outcome of the differentiation of the hands. The pari- 
etal, too, has become of great importance, but its importance is 
secondary to that of the frontal. The frontal leads in those 
functions which are peculiarly man-functions. The new func- 

1See “The Localization of Cerebral Function,” by Alfred W. 
Campbell, for very exhaustive researches in this direction. 


tions are associated functions; that is, they are associated 
with other functions in their operating mechanism. This asso- 
ciation is two-fold: with centres immediately adjacent, and 
with centres in other regions of the brain. As an illustration 
of the first we note the centre for speech in the frontal lobe, 
which seems to be merely an enlargement of the motor area; 
the centre for word-hearing in the superior temporal convo- 
lution, which is actually an extension of the centre for hearing 
in the same convolution; and the centre for word-seeing in 
the gyrus angularis, an offshoot from the centre for sight in 
the adjacent occipital lobe. As an illustration of the second 
we note the association of the centres in the precentral and 
in the frontal regions to the visual centre at the posterior 
extremity of the cerebrum. 

But these new centres, while offshoots of old, have not 
been made in a moment; in the upbuilding of brain-tissue 
Nature requires time. There is no spontaneous creation of 
tissue here, it is the tedious process of slow ages. And in 
this tissue there is a peculiar situation. While it gives no 
evidence of activity during its upbuilding, still it is not in- 
active; while it cannot respond to external stimuli, it can 
receive them. This is in line with the developmental plan. 
Sensory fibres are medullated before the motor ; sensory stimuli 
are received long before motor responses can be returned. 
It is the prickings of the ingoing stimuli that develop con- 
sciousness in the centre. This is not to say, however, that 
there is no attempt at expressing itself on the part of the 
centre during its upbuilding. It is possible for this centre 
to make the attempt, but the action resulting from such 
attempts must, of necessity, be imperfect. No centre is capable 
of normal action until the structural elements of that centre 
have become fully developed. 

This is shown in the development of the speech centre. 
Pre-man did not have speech, but he did have sound, uncouth, 
unmodulated noises. In making these noises he used the 
muscles concerned in the act as he used his other muscles, 
as group muscles; upon the impulse all the muscles acted 
together. The action was entirely motor, merely reflex action ; 
there was no consciousness behind the act. After a time 
the animal found that he could control his voice somewhat, 
that he could change from one tone to another, that he could 
modify the uncouth noises proceeding from his throat. He 
still made the uncouth noises under the stress of sudden 
emotion, but at other times he was able to guide his utter- 
ances into a kind of chatter. At first this was just an aim- 


less chatter, but eventually he was able to inject a meaning 
into the sounds issuing from his larynx. He had become 
conscious of his larynx, and that consciousness gave to him 
the power to direct its action. But that power was a long 
time coming to him; from uncouth noise to co-ordinated sound 
covered a vast period of developmental effort. The mechan- 
ism of speech was too complicated to be adjusted by any 
shorter process. 

This is the method through which the speech centre was 
developed, and it is the method through which all the brain- 
centres have been developed; it is the method through which 
the man-brain has been developed out of the animal-brain. 
It also is the method by which the individual brain of to-day 
is brought into function; that is, it is the method through 
which the adult brain is developed out of the child-brain. 
The child-brain is not born already developed, it is born to 
be developed. Its position is that of the man-brain during 
the childhood of the race: it is on the threshold of a higher 
life. But while its position is the same, its condition is dif- 
ferent. The brain of the primitive child was an animal-brain, 
pure and simple. Its active centres were only those in the 
primitive areas; the other centres were not active for the 
reason that they were not yet fully developed, they were in 
the process of being laid down. These centres were being 
created. In the child-brain of to-day the condition differs in 
this respect: while the child-brain is an animal-brain in one 
direction, it is a man-brain in another. It is an animal-brain 
in respect that it is active mainly through the primitive cen- 
tres; and it is a man-brain in respect that the man-centres 
already are laid down. It is actually an embryonic man-brain, 
for the foundations of the man-brain are there; the founda- 
tions are not being laid down, they are finished. 

While, however, the child-brain is born in this condition, 
it is not yet a completed brain. As has been said, the child- 
brain is a brain to be developed. It is ready for action, but 
as yet it cannot act, that is, as a man-brain. The new centres, 
having been created, now must be brought into efficient func- 
tion. And so, while the child-brain is getting its full growth, 
these centres are busy receiving stimuli and training them- 
selves for action. At the end of eight years, post-natal, the 
human child-brain should be able to take care of itself. 

During the period of life of the human brain beginning at 
the fourth month of pre-natal life and ending at eight years 
post-natal, it exhibits all the phases of development that we 
imagine the racial brain to have experienced. Up to the period 


of the fifth fetal month the cerebral surfaces are completely 
smooth, the Sylvian fissures being the only fissures in evidence. 
During the fifth month the other fissures begin to appear, the 
calcarine, hippocampal and collateral on the median surface, 
and the central, precentral and the superior temporal on the 
outer aspect, being among the first. At seven months the 
surface of the cerebrum is well convoluted, while at nine 
months the outlines of all the convolutions are completed. Up 
to this point the size and contour of the human brain remain 
small and regular, resembling very closely the outlines of the 
anthropoid brain, but differing from it in one important re- 
spect : the extent of the frontal region. After birth the human 
brain continues its growth; this further growth placing it 
well in advance of the primitive brain it was. In short, the 
period of intra-uterine life might be likened to the evolutionary 
period during which the foundations of the man-brain were 
laid down, and the period after birth to the period during 
which the man-brain enlarged those foundations. 

Following our discussion of the phylogeny of the human 
brain we now are the better able to understand the meaning 
and the method of the child-mind. It now becomes certain 
that the child-mind is but the expression of a developing 
brain, and that the expression follows the method of the 
organ from which it emanates. A further fact here, the 
puzzling factor in the reaction, is that this expression is the 
expression of a new function in the course of its develop- 
ment out of an older, firmly established function, the develop- 
ment of the man-function out of the animal-function. This 
new function varies as it grows, and as it grows has to fight 
its way against the dominance of the old function. The man 
is in a contest with the animal: the Present is in a contest 
with the Past. Our position here, then, should be that of 
supervisor, of director. We shall need to assist the new 
function to establish itself, we shall need to assist the man 
in his fight against the animal, we shall need to assist the 
Present in its contest with the Past. Left to itself the new 
might, out of sheer inertia, allow the old to overbear it. 

If the child-mind is the equal of the child-brain, then the 
child-mind is a primitive mind, just as the child-brain is a 
primitive brain, and the method of the child-mind will be the 
method of the primitive brain. We saw that the centres of 
this brain came into action one after the other in an orderly 
sequence ; and we saw further that these centres were devel- 
oped through the reflex, that their reactions were touch-and-go 
reactions. The action within the child-mind is purely reflex; 


it responds to environment automatically. The mind comes 
into development slowly, in response to environmental stimuli 
repeated over a long period. The centres of the brain have 
to be prepared for function before they properly can func- 
tionate. To be sure, the foundations of the centres are there, 
but they are mere foundations put there for the support of 
the superstructure. But we must not lose sight of one very 
important fact here: the foundation is the foundation of the 
man-brain. Therefore, while the basic reaction of the child- 
brain is reflex, following its animal origin, the secondary 
reaction is that of the man-brain. In the child-brain these 
two are very closely associated, the first beginning during the 
intra-uterine period and the second manifesting itself early in 
the post-uterine. 

The growth of all the human brain-centres illustrates this; 
but, for a specific illustration, let us touch again upon the 
centre for speech. We have noted the disposition of Broca’s 
convolution in the anthropoid brain and in the man-brain; 
and we have noted, also, how function seems to follow that 
disposition. We note the progression from no-speech to full 
speech; and, following the development of the brain of the 
human infant, we find this same developmental sequence there. 
From the moment of his birth the infant begins to make sounds 
through his larynx; but these first sounds are not speech- 
sounds. They are mere noises, uncouth, incoordinated cries. 
They are signals of distress, that is, of pain, of hunger or 
of shock. They are pure reflex manifestations; and the ca- 
pacity for these manifestations never is lost. But after a 
bit we find that the baby has increased his vocabulary, as it 
were. He begins to laugh and then to coo; and then, as his 
development continues, as he gets older, his utterances take 
on a letter or a syllabic form, and later still a word form. 
Following the coo the effort is over a single syllable, such as 
“da,” for instance. But the baby will not be able to say 
“da” at first. He will say “d,” haltingly, in the beginning; 
and then, as the sound comes more and more easily, he will 
repeat the letter over and over in quick succession. That 
established, it will be an easy step to the full syllable, and 
he will use the “da” as he did the “d’.” Frequent repeti- 
tion of “da” automatically creates a word, and soon we hear 
the baby saying “da-da.” Then he learns to associate that 
word with his father, and speech for him has been established. 
The centre controlling speech has come into consciousness ; 
and from “ da-da” to “ma-ma” and other short, intimate 
words no great effort is required. 


Two factors are behind the progress of the infant brain: 
that it is an embryonic man-brain, and that. the baby is in 
close association with his environment, represented here mainly 
by his mother. It is the example of the mother that has 
encouraged the baby-brain to exert itself. She has laughed 
and cooed with the baby, and has urged speech upon him; 
but all her urging never would have made the baby-brain 
exert itself if that brain did not have the power to exert 
itself. If it were not an embryonic man-brain it could not 
respond to the man-stimulus. The human child takes in 
words, recognizes them and then repeats them; but he does 
these things because his brain belongs to the man-class, be- 
cause his brain is developed for the purpose. The man- 
function responds to the call of the man-environment, but the 
response in the beginning is only a reflex response; the re- 
action is the primitive reaction, for the mechanism is still 
primitive. But soon the constant effort at responding to 
the incoming stimuli enlarges the grasp of the cerebral centres, 
they become more and more conscious of what they are doing, 
and they begin to lose that purely animal characteristic, the 
reflex. But in every stage of the development of the child 
mind the reflex remains the dominant factor.” Consciousness 
should be the dominant power in this brain, but it is not. 
Consciousness does have the directing power, but it does not 
have the power actually to direct. That is, consciousness is 
not yet strong enough for independent action; and, as with 
consciousness comes thought, then thought can have no greater 
strength than consciousness. Thought itself is, at this stage, 
little better than reflex action. The fact of the dominance 
of the reflex is the fact of greatest importance in brain de- 
velopment. The reflex dominated the primitive brain, and 
the reflex dominates the child brain. But that is not the re- 
action most to be desired in the human brain. It is the thought 
reaction that should have first place, directed action; conscious- 
ness should have supreme control. 

We have, then, in the mind of the child factors that are 
subtle and far-reaching. We have the Past, an influence- 
complex that reaches up a thousand hands out of a loosely 
knit and interminable ancestral line; we have the Present, 
an influence-complex developed out of the action of environ- 
ment upon the millions of cells that make up the cerebral 
cortex. It is the reactions between these complexes that de- 
termine the condition of the child-mind, or of any mind. It 
is the Present-Past reaction that gives the interest to the 
subject: it makes the child-mind, in very fact, the most in- 


teresting thing in this world. The problem to be worked out 
is a problem in development: how may the child-mind be 
developed to its own best advantage? As we have seen, this 
is a matter of brain-development, not to be understood until 
the whole process of brain-development is understood. The 
basic facts here are these. The development of the man-brain 
out of the animal-brain, and hence the development of the 
centres of the man-brain out of the centres of the animal- 
brain; the development of the sensory fibres before the de- 
velopment of the motor; and the dominance of the reflex. 

The development of the child-mind is merely the develop- 
ment of consciousness in the child-brain; the development of 
a man-power brain. But the method of developing that con- 
sciousness must be the method followed by Nature. It must 
follow through the reflex, and is entirely a matter of training, 
a training that is directed through the motor centres. Each 
centre must be approached in the direction of its origin. We 
must remember that each centre has a regular developmental 
position and its fibres a developmental sequence; first the 
afferent, next the efferent, and then the association. The 
afferent stimuli are the ones that arouse a centre to action 
and that give its reactions smoothness. After a centre has 
undergone this training for a certain length of time it be- 
comes able to control its own machinery; the centre then has 
developed its own consciousness. But that is not enough, 
so far as the mind is concerned. It would suffice in the case 
of a purely automatic brain; but it does not suffice for inde- 
pendent mind. Making each centre independent makes for 
disharmony. Centres working alone do not work together. 
The ultimate endeavor, then, in striving to develop the child- 
mind, is, while we are developing consciousness in the centres, 
to make that consciousness overlap from one centre to an- 
other, to bring about an interaction between the centres. The 
aim is, through the development of supreme consciousness, 
to convert the human brain into a symmetrical and a harmoni- 
ous organ; that is, an organ fully developed and fully able to 
take care of itself. 


By Crarre Comstock 

2. Repetition of Fox’s Experiment 

Likenesses and Differences 
2. Experiment Under Non-Laboratory Conditions. . 

Experiment C 
1. Sorting Problems 
2. Reading Problem Containing Irrelevant Meanings 
3. Reading Problem Containing Typographical Errors 
Experiment D 

2 be ane f= 
. ee-word Imagery 
VI. Conclusion 

In an article in the Zeitschrift fiir Psychologie? Dr. Koftka 
of Giessen says in criticism of an analysis of “ Conscious 
Attitudes ” :* “It is obvious that analysis meant for the author 
and her observers nothing else than the exhibition of the 
sensory contents present at any given moment. . 
These sensory contents may [however] be irrelevant to the 
thought, or may be the necessary condition of the arousal of 
the thought, or may finally be the thought itself.” Clearly 
the value of the analysis of a thought-process is dependent 
upon the relevancy of the contents which constitute that 
analysis to the thought-process analyzed. To find a criterion 
of relevancy and irrelevancy we undertook the following 
series of experiments. More particularly, we hoped to secure 
a basis for answering such a question as that asked by Koffka: 
How do we know that any sensory content is relevant or 
irrelevant to a thought? We have concerned ourselves espe- 
cially with the relation of imaginal contents to thought, since 
it seemed wise to limit the problem. The O’s have, however, 

1From the Psychological Laboratory of Cornell University. 

2 63, 1912, 219 
8H. M. Clarke, Conscious Attitudes, Am. Jour. Psych., 22, 1911, 



frequently mentioned in their reports the parts played by 
sensory kinaesthesis and by feeling. 

Relevancy may be of two kinds, material and logical. It 
is possible for imaginal contents to be materially relevant 
but logically irrelevant to a thought. For example, in reply 
to a question concerning the number of small boxes con- 
tained within larger ones, an O gave the correct answer, 21. 
When asked to report the imagery upon which this answer 
was based, he described a complex visual image of white 
boxes about six inches square with a grey interior. Logically, 
the grey and the white and the dimensions have nothing to 
do with the solution of the problem. The boxes might just 
as well have been red, or have had no color ascribed to them. 
Materially, however, the imagery was relevant, since for this 
particular O the meaning ‘ box’ was carried by the particular 
kind of box described.‘ 

We started out with the belief that we might find in the 
analysis of thought-processes a good deal of irrelevant ma- 
terial. We expected to have reported contents irrelevant to 
the thought concerned. Our task was then to be a determina- 
tion of the psychological criteria of this irrelevancy. The 
results of our experiments have, however, forced us to the 
opposite point of view. They show that, if imagery is present 
as part of the contents of thought, it is ipso facto relevant to 
the thought. This conclusion we reached only at the end of 
a series of experiments, in every one of which we had been 
‘set’ to find irrelevant imagery in Koffka’s sense. 

We attacked the problem first on the side of relevancy, 
though always with the expectation of getting indirectly at 
irrelevancy. Our task was in part one of method, and the 
attempt to secure certain experimental conditions explains the 
sequence of the separate experiments which we undertook. 


Our aim here was to study the imaginal contents of thought 
with reference to its uses and relevancy to the thought. The 
method consisted of presenting to the O a simple problem 
to which he was asked to give an answer. After the answer 
had been given, he was asked to report the experiences upon 
which it was based. There were 83 problems or questions 
which may be roughly classified as follows: 

1. Arithmetic problems (9).5 

4Cf. H. L. Hollingworth, The Vicarious Functioning of Irrelevant 

Imagery, Jour. Philos. Psych. Sci. Meth., 8, 1911, 690. 
5 The numbers in parentheses refer to the number of problems of 

the various kinds. 


Ex. At ten cents a yard, how much will eighteen feet of cloth cost? 

2. Ingenuity problems (12). 

(a) Easy (9). , 

Ex. A man wanted to catch a kitten, but the kitten ran up a tall 
tree which no person could climb. How could he get the kitten 
without hurting it? 

(6) Difficult (3). 

Ex. Out of 6 toothpicks make 4 equilateral triangles each one of 
whose sides shall be as long as a toothpick. 

3. Abstract problems (3). 

Ex. If the possession of money or wealth in any form should 
come to be regarded as dishonorable, what significant changes would 
result ? 

4. General Information problems (24). 

Ex. Where is the painting, Mona Lisa? 

5. Completion problems (4) 

Ex. Supply the missing letters: F-r o-f-c-a- b-s-n-s- o-I-. 

6. Enumeration problems (8). 

Ex. If a box has 4 smaller boxes inside of it, and each one of the 
smaller boxes contains 4 little tiny boxes, how many boxes are there 
altogether, counting the big one? 

7. Action problems (6). 

Ex. Suppose that you stooped down to lift up a large bucket full 
of water, but that as you stooped down to lift it up it proved to be 
empty. What would happen? 

8. Simple Judgment problems (5). 

Ex. What is the thing to do if you go to sleep an the train, and 
do not wake up until you are several miles past the station where 
you wanted to get off? 

9. Comparison problems (6). 

Ex. If grey is darker than white, and black is darker than grey, 
what shade of those named in this sentence is lighter than grey? 

10. Direction problems (3). 

Ex. Suppose that you are going north, then you turn to your left, 
and then to your right. In what direction are you going now? 

11. Imaginal problems (3). 

Ex. Suppose that it is fourteen minutes before three o’clock. Now 
suppose that the two hands of the clock were to change places, so 
that the large hand takes the place of the small hand and the small 
hand takes the place of the large hand. What time would it then be? 

We tried to include problems of various types, ranging 
from very simple questions, to which the answers were given 
immediately and automatically, to more difficult problems 
where complex processes of thought were involved. We hoped 
also to give opportunity for the use of different kinds of 
imagery, as visual (group 11), kinaesthetic (group 7), verbal- 
motor (group 1), etc; though we realized, of course, that the 
type of imagery used depends principally upon the imaginal 
type of the O. 

At first the problems were typewritten and given to the O’s to read. 
With this procedure it was, however, impossible to control conditions, 
since the O’s tended to glance back over the problem, even though 
only one reading was formally allowed. This source of error pre- 
vented the taking of a time-record, which is sufficiently rough at best, 


since here the reading of the problem and its solution were inextricably 
combined. We then changed our procedure; E read the problem to 
O who was seated with his eyes closed and his back to E. When 
the last word of the problem had been read, E started the stop-watch, 
and stopped it when O gave his answer. 

The instructions were: “I shall set you a simple problem. Your 
immediate task is to solve the problem. After you have reported 
your answer, I shall ask you to describe as well as you can the ex- 
periences upon which your answer was based.” Later, to provide 
for a report in attributive terms, we changed to the following in- 
structions: “I shall ask you a series of questions. Please give your 
answer as soon as it is ready. After you have answered, report so 
far as possible in attributive terms the experiences upon which the 
answer was based.” 

There were five O’s,® all of whom were graduate students or in- 
structors in psychology; Miss A. H. Sullivan (S), and Messrs. H. 
Sheppard (Sh), M. J. Zigler (Z), H. S. Liddell (L), and L. B. Hois- 
ington (H). Four of these O’s, S, Sh, Z and L, worked two periods 
a week; and one, H, worked one period. The observation-periods 
were usually one hour. 

An analysis of the reports shows that imagery was used in 
a number of ways in the solution of the problems. A table 
indicating the different uses and the number of instances 



(a) Illustrative 136 
1. Memory experience 5 
(6) Non-illustrative 
(c) Combination of a and b 

Subject-matter of Problem 
(2) i 

Regulation of Problem 
(a) Formulation 
(6) Anticipation 
(c) Criticism 

Means of Escape from Problem 

Illustration of the Answer 
(a) Reinforcement 

Total number of reports = 308. 
In 21 instances the answer came as a sensorimotor response. 

6 Primarily the ‘observers’ in this study were ‘subjects’ who were 
performing a set task. We have named them ‘observers’ simply be- 
cause our aim was to get them to describe the processes correlated 
with the meaningful stages in the performance of a task. 


Illustrations of the different uses taken from the reports 

1. Anchor. (a) Illustrative 

Problem 27. If the conductor on an Ithaca street-car rings up in 
one trip 41 fares, how much money has he taken in? 

Report: “As the problem was read through, there was a scrappy 
visual image of something that meant ‘conductor’ (upper part of 
him) and of the tally machine at the other end of the car” (H).7 

1. Memory 

Problem 22. What would you do if a person who you know is crazy 
calls you ugly names? 

Report: Visual image of a man sitting on a rock. It carries the 
meaning of the time when I was very small and one of our neighbors 
went crazy and my father struggled to keep him quiet” (Sh). 

(6) Non-illustrative 

Problem 56. If James had four times as much money as George, 
he would have sixteen dollars. How much money has George? 

Report: “The two names were held by visual-verbal imagery. It 
meant the names ‘James’ and ‘George’ written in white on a black 
surface. These fluctuated in clearness. Occasionally both were present 
at the same time. They were spatially separated” (Z). 

(c) Combination of (a) and (b) 

Problem 64. What makes salt cake? 

Report: “A visual image of a little pile of white salt. Verbal-motor 
repetition of problem: ‘What makes salt cake?’” (Z). 

2. Subject-matter of problem. (a) Changing 

Problem 75. From what other method of transportation are the 
terms used on railroads taken? 

Report: “ Visual image of a blue-brownish mass. Meant ‘boat.’ 
Vanished quickly. Then a visual image of a coach going along a dusty 
road. In verbal-motor imagery the words: ‘carriage,’ ‘coach,’ ‘ pull- 
man’” (L).8 

(6) Fixed 

Problem 25. If the two diagonals of a square are drawn, how 
many triangle are thus formed? 

Report: “ Visual image of a square with the diagonals not com- 
pletely filled in. The field is white and the lines black. I saw part 
of all four triangles” (L). 

(c) Combination of (a) and (b) 

Problem 67. Name three countries of Central America. 

Report: “A visual image of a map of South America with its coun- 
tries. Verbal-motor imagery of naming the countries (from the map) 
before I spoke them” (Sh). 

7 Cf. K. Bithler, Uber Gedanken, Arch. f. d. ges. Psych., 9, 1907, 353; 
H. J. Watt, Experimentelle Beitrage zu einer Theorie des Denkens, 
ibid., 4, 1905, 361 ff.; and A. Messer, Experimentell-psychologische 
Untersuchungen iiber das Denken, ibid., 8, 1906, 67 ff. The reports 
cited furnish instances of our ‘anchoring’ imagery. 

8 For illustrations of changing imagery cf. A. Messer, op. cit., 57. 


3. Regulation of problem. (a) Formulation 

Problem 10. A boy was sent to the river to bring back exactly 7 
pints of water. He had a 4 pint vessel and a 9 pint vessel. Show 
how he can measure out exactly 7 pints of water, using nothing but 
these two vessels and not guessing at the amount. 

Report: “A visual image of two vessels, glass. One was half of 
the size of the other. One meant ‘4’ and the other ‘9.’ Then verbal- 
motor imagery meaning: ‘You'll have to solve by interchanging in 
two vessels’” (Z). 

(b) Anticipation 

Problem 68. You say a flock of sheep, but a what of mackerel? 

Report: “A visual image of sheep. Then I anticipated what was 
coming. This was carried by visual imagery of mother’s flock of 
white leghorns and verbal-motor imagery in the naming of them” (Z). 

(c) Criticism 

Problem 17. What holiday comes nearest the middle of the year? 

Report: “I thought of Christmas. This was carried by verbal- 
motor imagery” (L). 

4. Means of Escape from the problem 

Problem 70. What is a firkin? 

Report: “I don’t know. I thought of Oscar Firkins, a professor 
of nes This was carried by kinaesthetic and verbal-motor imag- 
ery ; 

5. Illustration of the answer (coming after the answer) 

Problem 47. Suppose that you are going upstairs in the dark and 
think that there is another step ahead of you. If there isn’t, what 

Report: “Following the answer I had a visual image of the head 
of the stairs, and of a person there with his head down” (H). 

(a) Reinforcement 

Problem 6. Which is heavier, a pound of lead or a pound of 

Report: “The problem was solved at the end of the reading. I 
had a visual image of the word ‘ Neither’ and a period after it. The 
capital ‘N’ was typewritten. This came after the answer had been 

Discussion of Results 

The results show clearly that in the solution of problems 
and the answering of questions our O’s had recourse to 
imagery. The most frequently occurring use is, as we might 
expect, that of imagery as the material for working the prob- 
lem. Second in importance is the use of imagery as anchor. 
There were some instances (to be considered later) in which 
no imagery was used in the solution of the problems, but in 
nearly all of these cases the problem was anchored by imagery. 
It seems to be necessary to hold the meaning of the problem, 
or to fix its essential parts in some fashion, in order to answer 
it; and this is the use made of the anchoring imagery. The 


attitudes included under “ Regulation of problem” (3) prob- 
ably occurred more frequently than they were reported. They 
are so largely meaningful that the underlying process easily 
escapes report. The meaning here is most often carried by 
verbal-motor imagery, though not infrequently other kinds 
of imagery do the work of formulation; and a visual image 
may correct a mistake or carry an anticipated meaning. 

All of the imagery so far discussed is certainly relevant to 
the thought that it carries. We have, moreover, the statement 
of the O’s under the instruction to report “the experiences 
upon which the answer was based.” Of a somewhat different 
nature are the five instances in which the imagery was used 
in aiding the O to evade the answering of the question. In 
three of the five instances reported the O was unable to answer 
the question, and so took refuge in imagery irrelevant to the 
problem-imagery. In the other two cases the answers were 
reached with difficulty, and the O’s allowed themselves to be 
side-tracked. We must note, however, that what we find 
here is not irrelevant imagery as such, but rather a shift to 
an attitude which is irrelevant to the problem-solving attitude. 
The imagery is relevant to the alternative attitude. The imag- 
ery which is illustrative of the answer (5) does not, of course, 
help in the solution of the problem. Its use seems to be the 
reassurance of the O that his answer is correct ; and it carries 
in part the meaning of a feeling of satisfaction. In some 
instances it is. purely associative. In any case the imagery 
is relevant to the attitude concerned. 

There remain for consideration four phenomena reported 
by the O’s. These are: 
No. of cases 
1. A felt need for imagery 
2. Imagery as a hindrance 
3. Irrelevant imagery 
4. Cases in which the answer came immediately and 


We discuss these in the order above presented. 

1. These instances show the dependence of the O’s upon imagery. 
The reports run as follows: a. “I was unable to get the hands of 
the clock changed in my visual image” (L). 6. “I wanted to visualize 
and couldn’t” (S). c. “This is difficult because I couldn’t get a 
picture of the triangle” (Sh). d. “I tried to image the res 
and couldn’t, so that I used my fingers to help me out” (L). sa 
tried to visualize some paintings I had seen, and 1 couldn’t” “(Z). 
f. “I tried to get a visual image ( ow anchor the problem) and couldn’t” 
(S). In 4 of the 6 instances (c, d, e, f) an incorrect answer or no 
answer at all was given. Of the 2 remaining cases, in 6b the O finally 
succeeded in evoking a kinaesthetic image which helped in solving the 


problem; and in a the O reported that he could not be certain of his 
answer because of the incompleteness of the image which he had to 
use. These instances show that imagery not only is used when it is 
present, but also that its presence may be essential. 

2. There were reported 4 instances in which imagery seemed to 
hinder rather than to help the O. Interestingly enough, though these 
include the reports of 3 different O’s, they are all of the same sort. 
The imagery which is reported as “ being in the way” serves in every 
case as the anchor of the problem. Ordinarily, images serving this 
purpose drop out with the beginning of the solution of the problem, 
or become carriers of the processes involved in solving the problem. 
In 3 of the instances the anchoring images had the lure of familiarity, 
and were carriers of experiences more pleasing to the O than the duty 
of answering the question. This seems to be a form of “ Means of 
escape from problem” (4). In the other case the O could not for a 
long time solve the problem, so that the anchoring imagery, which 
was very complete, was not replaced by any other imagery. 

3. We have included under the heading “Irrelevant imagery” all 
imagery which was reported by the O as having nothing to do with 
the problem which he was solving. Since such reports bear directly 
on our main problem, we shall consider each one separately. a. Prob- 
lem 6. Which is heavier, a pound of lead or a pound of feathers? 
Report: “A visual image of a flock of geese which some of my 
old neighbors used to have. There were several on a large pond and 
some on the bank. One spread out his wings and flapped them. This 
didn’t help me solve the problem. The problem was solved at the 
end of the reading and this imagery came after the solution” (Z). 
The concluding statement of the O makes it clear that this is not a 
positive case of irrelevant imagery, but a case in which the imagery 
is relevant to a situation other than that involved in the solution of 
the problem. b. Problem 44. Can more than one meaning be attached 
to a sigh? If so, what meanings? Report: “As the phrase ‘attach 
meaning’ was completed, I thought of Titchener’s ‘Beginner’s Psy- 
chology.’ Then I thought of the next to the last lecture the first 
term. This was carried by visual imagery. . . . All of this bore 
no conscious relation to the answer given. The imagery came before 
the reading of the problem was finished” (L). It is evident that this 
imagery is used as an illustrative anchor which is anticipatory - 
the end of the problem. The last word of the problem, ‘sigh,’ 
manded a shift in attitude so that the imagery reported is relevant na 
the attitude set up by ‘meanings attached,’ but not to the attitude 
which determines the answer. c. Problem 59. How would you criti- 
cize the following statement made by a judge to a Prisoner : “You 
are to be hanged and I hope it will be a warning to you.” Report: 
“A visual image of a young man, a round, ruddy lad. This is very 
clear. Other people are in the room. This is in the court-room of 
my home town. I think this is irrelevant [referring to the court- 
room]” (Z). We have here an example of imagery used as illustra- 
tive anchor. The irrelevancy, if there be any, is of the logical sort. d. 
Problem 6. Which is heavier, a pound of lead or a pound of feathers? 
Report: “The first thing that came to me was a remembrance of 
Prof. Angell, in his joking way, proving that psychologically feathers 
are heavier. This is not directly connected with the problem” (Sh). 
Again we find imagery used as an_ illustrative anchor, here in the 
form of a memory-image. It is difficult to see how this imagery is 
even logically irrelevant, since it obviously gives a clue to the answer. 


4. A classification of the questions to which the answers came as 
sensorimotor responses throws light on the reason for this mode of 

(a) Comparison problems 
(6) Arithmetical problems 
(c) Simple Judg. problems 
(d) Gen. Informat. problems 
(e) Easy Ingenuity problems 

In the comparison problems the answer is dependent upon attention 
to the reading of the problem, for the answer is implicit in the state- 
ment. It may be necessary for some O’s to restate the question in 
order to answer it, but for others the auditory perception touches off 
the answer. The questions asked of the types b, c, d, and e are of 
so simple and habitual a sort that the answers, having been previously 
worked out, are “on the tip of the tongue.” In other words, all of 
the 20 cases are instances of the presence of brain-habit.® As we 
have said above, we frequently find in cases of this kind some anchor- 
ing imagery, but none which is used as material out of which the 
problem is worked; such imagery is not needed. 


I. We have shown (1) that, in solving a problem or in 
answering a question, imagery may be used in no less than 
5. different ways; and (2) that in all cases. the imagery 
reported is relevant to the thought whose meaning it carries. 

II. During the course of the experiment there became obvi- 
ous many imperfections in the method, which we shall now 
briefly consider. (1) Difficulty in selecting the problems or 
questions. The selection of problems or questions is by no 
means a simple matter. At first the O’s were allowed to 
read the problems and to refer to them in the course of the 
solution. This procedure, however, did not permit of record- 
ing the time taken by the O to solve the problem or to answer 
the question. A time-record was deemed desirable as a check 
on the number of processes reported by the O, since he some- 
times seemed to report experiences occurring, not in his 
solution of the problem, but during the period of introspec- 
tion. We then tried reading the problem to the O and taking 
a time-record as described above. This proved to be a better 
procedure, but meant a change in the kind of problem used. 
A problem involving in its statement several terms or different 
steps, or a problem long in general, either could not be com- 
prehended by the O or could not be held in mind from a 
single reading. Hence only those problems which could be 
simply and briefly stated and easily grasped could be used. 
Questions of general information were employed with the 

®E. B. Titchener, Thought-Processes, 1909, 178 ff., 201. 


hope of meeting this difficulty. It is not easy, nevertheless, 
to find questions which demand thought or present a real 
problem, and at the same time to avoid questions to which 
the answer comes automatically or to which the O can give no 
answer at all. There is, further, the task of selecting prob- 
lems which shall not involve in their solution one type of 
imagery to the exclusion of others. The “clock” problems, 
the “ folded and cut” paper problems, and the “box” prob- 
lems are, for example, stated by Terman to test especially the 
ability to visualize.°° The attempt was made to select prob- 
lems appealing to other types of imagery as well. For ex- 
ample, we hoped that kinaesthetic imagery might be used in 
the solution of problems included in group 7. (2) Difficulty 
in stating the problem. We encountered a further difficulty 
in the statement of the problem. From the reports it was 
evident that the O’s were giving experiences set up by the 
descriptive part of the problem as well as those experiences 
upon which the answer was actually based. We were inter- 
ested in the second form of report. To obviate this difficulty 
we tried to state the problems so that the important part for 
the answers should come at the end, as, for example: “ What 
is a shoat?” (3) Difficulty occasioned by the influence of the 
experimental attitude on the part of the O. The O, having 
been informed in the instructions that he was to report the 
experiences upon which his answer was based, seemed in some 
cases to be disturbed by this requirement. This is shown by 
the fact (a) that some O’s “ pondered ” over questions which 
were simple, until there came to report something definite 
in the way of experiences which might underlie an answer 
reached almost immediately. For example, one O in his report 
on a “comparison” problem said: “The word ‘oil’ was 
articulated before spoken. I went through the problem in 
internal speech. The answer occurred immediately” (L). 
Yet the time recorded by the stop-watch was 14.4 sec. The 
tendency to wait for something “ reportable” is perhaps the 
explanation of some of the illustrative imagery frequently 
reported. Some O’s delayed their answers until they were 
“ready to report,” explaining the longer time thus required 
for the solution of the problem by remarks such as: “I was 
trying to think how I got the answer.” Such a statement 
shows the honesty of the O, but makes the time-record value- 
less. The same thing is shown by the fact (b) that some 
O’s seemed to keep continually in mind during the solution 

Pt M. Terman, The Measurement of Intelligence, 1916, 321, 328, 


of the problem that they were to report at the end, and accord- 
ingly introspected as they solved the problem. For example, 
one O said: “ My introspections in this problem were separate 
from getting the problem. I have to answer the question and 
then go back to introspect” (S). Another illustration of the 
influence of the experimental attitude is the apparent fact 
(c)—E has no experimental proof except the time-records, 
which are otherwise difficult of interpretation—that in re- 
porting the O sometimes added experiences then occurring 
to him, but experiences which were not a part of those upon 
which the answer was based. This, of course, is a trap into 
which it is easy to fall, and which can be avoided only by 
practice. It constitutes, nevertheless, one of the difficulties 
of the method, and involves the danger of assuming that the 
contents of the after-period are the same as those of the ex- 
perimental consciousness. (4) Difficulty in interpreting results. 
The method puts the “ burden of proof” upon E. His is the 
final interpretation of results. At best he can only check 
his interpretations by comparing the reports of different O’s 
and by repeating experiments. He is also aided by interpreta- 
tions which the O’s sometimes “ let slip.” 

That the method lacks the accuracy of other experimental 
methods is clear. Nevertheless, as a starting-point in an ex- 

perimental investigation, it is valuable. “It will always be 
of service where new ground has to be broken, and where 
the formations are so complex that an immediate recourse 
to experiment in the strict sense is forbidden.” 


With a view to further study of method and interpretation of 
results we undertook the repetition of an experiment reported by C. 
Fox in the British Journal of Psychology.12 His problem and method 
bore some resemblances to ours in the experiment described above, 
and we hoped that a comparison of our results (from the repetition 
of the experiment) with his might throw additional light on both 
method and interpretation of results. We shall state briefly his pro- 
cedure and the general results of his experiment and then give the 
conditions of our repetition of the experiment and our results. 

Fox’s subjects were told that “they were to investigate the existence 
and importance of thought without images, and to try to find out the 
content of such thinking.”13 They were also “to distinguish, as far as 
they could, between the thinking and the thought.”1* He worked with 

11E. B. Titchener, The Method of Examination, Am. Jour. Psych., 
24, 1913, 429 ff. 

12 C. Fox, The Conditions which Arouse Mental Images in Thought, 
Brit. Jour. Psych., 6, 1913-14, 420 ff. 

13 Op. cit., 420. 

14 [bid., 420. 


15 subjects, all of whom had had “ previous practice in introspection.”15 
The material used was 12 statements: 4 involving mathematical con- 
ceptions, 4 historical, 3 grammatical, and 1 a couple of lines from 
Milton. What the instructions were is not clear. We know only 
that “the subjects were told to record on a sheet of paper everything 
they could discover by introspection after each statement had been 
read twice by the experimenter. They were told to put down every- 
thing, however unimportant it appeared to them. . . . In fact all 
details, whether mental or physical, were to be noted. They were 
also told to put down first of all whether they realised the meaning 
of the statement read to them; and as soon as the meaning was realised 
the process of thought which had led to its realisation. If possible 
they were to state what the realisation consisted of; and whether it 
involved mental images or not. In cases where images did arise 
they were instructed to state whether the realisation of meaning 
preceded or succeeded the occurrence of the mental image.” Fox 
states later, however, that “these instructions were only fully carried 
out as regards that part of them which related to the realisation of 
meaning and to the occurrence of images.”17 The general results of 
the experiment he states as follows: “any delay or conflict in con- 
sciousness is a favorable condition for arousing a relevant mental 
image. . . . The experiments also show directly that the contrary 
set of conditions are (sic) unfavorable to the production of images.”1® 

In repeating the experiment we used the same material, though the 
statements were read by E only once. Our instructions differed from 
those of Fox in the following respects. (1) We did not tell our O’s 
that they were “to investigate the existence and importance of thought 
without images.”19 (2) The reports were made orally by the O’s. 
(3) The instructions were less full and suggestive than those used by 
Fox, in accordance with his statement that his own detailed instruc- 
tions “ were only fully carried out as regards that part of them which 
related to the realisation of meaning and to the occurrence of 
images.”29 Since we were not certain whether Fox meant the same 
thing when he asked his subjects “to state what the realisation con- 
sisted of ”21 and when he told them to give “the process of thought 
which had led to its realisation,” we used two sets of instructions 
which read as follows. (1) “I shall read you a statement. Please 
report whether you realise the meaning of the statement read and, 
if so, report the process of thought which led to its realisation.” (2) 
“T shall read you a statement. Please report whether you realise the 
meaning of the statement read and, if so, of what the realisation con- 
sists.” The 12 statements of Fox were used as material with the 
first set of instructions; but in order to make a comparable situation 
we were forced to use different statements for the second set of 
instructions. We endeavored, however, to find sentences equal in 
difficulty and similar, so far as possible, to those used by Fox; that 
is, 4 were mathematical, 4 were historical, etc. We had 5 O’s, 3 of 
whom, S, H, and Z, had acted as O’s in our first experiment. The 

15 [bid., 421. 
16 Tbid., 421. 
17 [bid., 421. 
18 [bid., 430. 
19 Tbid., 420. 
20 [bid., 421. 
21 Jbid., 421. 


other two, Messrs. F. L. Dimmick (D) and H. G. Bishop (B), were 
experienced O’s. 

Following Fox, we shall present our results for each group of 
statements separately. As stated above, the first set of instructions 
was used with the original material of Fox. We had some difficulty 
in the use of these instructions. All of our O’s asked what we meant 
by “process of thought.” They were told to interpret it as they liked; 
with the result that all took the instructions to mean that a report 
of both process and meaning was desired. We were also questioned 
about the meaning of the words “realise” and “ realisation.” One O 
(H) said: “To me ‘realisation’ is the concreteness of the situation; 
it is illustrative. I could say ‘yes’ as soon as you stop reading; but 
I have a determination to realise the meaning, and this has an in- 
hibitory effect on the ‘yes.’”. Another O (Z) stated that “ verifica- 
tion usually, but not always, seemed necessary ;” while a third O (D) 
remarked: “I never am aware of the ‘realisation.’ It is nothing 
but what I talk about after I have finished. It is the attitude of 
accepting or rejecting the meaning.” It is obvious that these three 
O’s will give different kinds of reports. We should expect the first, 
as was actually the case, to report more concrete imagery than the 
other two. Fox’s subjects, for the most part, seem to have had no 
difficulties with the instructions. 

We come now to a consideration of the reports on the propositions 
in the first group (mathematical statements). From the analysis of 
his subjects’ introspection, Fox draws the following conclusions. 1. 
“In the first place it is perfectly clear that a considerable amount 
of thinking is entirely independent of mental images. Of the 60 
thought-processes of the 15 different subjects, 24 or 40% occurred 
without mental imagery.”22 Of the 20 thought-processes of our 5 
O’s, 2 or 10% occurred without report of mental imagery, but not 
without observable processes. Such processes were mainly kinaes- 
thetic sensations of strain around the face and eyes, inhibition of 
breathing, etc. Our O’s tended to repeat in verbal-motor imagery the 
proposition after it had been read by the E. It seems strange that 
none of Fox’s subjects should have reported a similar tendency. 2. 
“As the statements selected would involve mental images of a very 
simple and definite type, if they occurred, namely of simple geometrical 
figures; and as the frequent mention of images during the experi- 
ment would in itself act as a suggestion to arouse images which 
would otherwise not occur, it seems probable that under normal 
conditions of thinking images would not arise in more than 50% 
of the cases.”28 This is sheer speculation. In the first place one 
cannot foresee what kind of mental images such statements would 
arouse, whether simple and definite or otherwise; nor has one any 
right to assume that “mental images of simple geometrical figures ” 
are necessarily easier to call up than images whose complexity is 
greater. The fact that the meaning is of simple, geometrical figures 
does not prove that the images, or carriers of the meaning, will be 
simple. In the second place Fox criticizes his own procedure when 
he says that the “ frequent mention of images during the experiment 
would in itself act as a suggestion to arouse images which would other- 
wise not occur;” since it seems that one aim of an experiment of 
this sort must be to avoid setting up suggestions. Furthermore, it is 

22 Tbid., 423. 
28 Ibid., 423 ff. 


as logical to assume that the statement to the subjects that “they 
were to investigate the existence and importance of thought without 
images” would be as effective in setting up an attitude to report 
thought without images as in arousing the opposite tendency. At any 
rate, it is difficult to see why the suggestion should be valued at 
exactly 10%. 3. “In some cases strong imagery interferes with 
the act of thinking.”*4 We found no such cases, though we found 
cases in which inability of the O’s to get an image prevented the full 
realisation of the meaning. 4. “Images tend to appear if the realisa- 
tion of the meaning is not at once clear, or if there is a delay or 
a struggle in consciousness.”25 Our results confirm this statement, 
though in the case of our O’s verbal-motor imagery, which carries 
the meaning of a debate, is more common than the visual imagery 
reported by Fox’s subjects. “ Where the meaning is easily grasped 
or where assent has been previously given there seems to be no 
tendency to embody the thought in an image.” Though such instances 
are rare with our O’s, the assent or the realisation of meaning is car- 
ried by kinaesthesis of some sort. 5. “Suspension of judgment and 
doubt, both of which may be regarded as instances of delay or strug- 
gle in consciousness, are conditions which facilitate the emergence 
of mental images.”27 As we have already said, such attitudes were 
for our O’s characterised on the processual side by verbal-motor imag- 
ery, other modes of imagery, and kinaesthetic and organic sensations, 
together with feelings of pleasantness and unpleasantness. Although 
Fox had instructed his subjects to note “ muscular strain or tension,”2® 
no mention is made of it in the quoted reports. 

The introspective reports for the remaining 3 groups of statements 
confirm, on the whole, both Fox’s results and our own as stated above. 
1. He says, in discussing the propositions of the second group: “If 
a subject makes a deliberate attempt to concentrate his attention on 
the meaning of a statement he may succeec. in suppressing images 
which would otherwise occur.”2® This remark seems beside the point; 
for the fac t that no images are reported because of “attention on the 
meaning” does not prove that images were not present and were not 
carriers of the reported meaning. Furthermore, this is a particular 
set assumed by one O, and its assumption is not justified by the in- 
structions. 2. “ Emphasis or a pause which constitutes a break in the 
free flow of thinking is favorable to the production of imagery. 

This condition, too, seems to fit in with the general idea 
of a conflict or struggle . . . .”80 The introspective reports in 
question refer to a proposition of group 2 (historical). Fox says: 
“In reading this sentence a distinct pause was made after the words 
‘mechanical inventions.’”8! An emphasis or a pause probably is 
favorable to the production of imagery; but this does not seem to be 
analogous to a conflict or struggle. On the other hand, it is quite 
possible for a pause to arouse a mental image which does not accord 
with the further meaning of the statement; in which case it certainly 

24 Ibid., 424. 
25 Tbid, 424. 
28 Jbid., 424, 
27 Ibid., 424. 
28 Tbid., 421. 
29 Ibid., 426. 
30 Jbid., 427. 
31 Ibid., 426. 


would not_be used as are the images which appear as the result of a 
conflict. For example, in reporting on this same sentence, one of 
our O’s (H) said : “* Mechanical inventions’ gave rise to auditory 
imagery meaning ‘ Edison ’ and visual imagery in greys of different 
brightness that meant ‘transportation’ or ‘industrial activity.’ I 
seemed to have settled the thing until the word ‘England’ came. 
With this the visual image dropped out. Then an auditory image 
of the word ‘England’ that meant to assure myself of what you 
said. Then followed a bit of visual imagery in greys that 
referred to conditions in England and meant the translation 
of the previous meaning from this country to England.” 3. 
“A strong image may obstruct the attempt to understand.”82 
Fox does not define ‘strong,’ so that we do not know whether he 
refers to clearness, or to details, or to stability and duration. His 
illustrations of “certain cases” in which the image obstructs under- 
standing do not, however, seem conclusive. In any case they do not 
rove, as perhaps they are not intended to prove, that thought may 
e imageless. One of Fox’s subjects reports: “When I tried to 
realise the significance of the statement it was twice obstructed; at 
first by the picture of my old history room at school, then by my 
history book open at the page on feudalism.”33 This seems to be 
an example of our anchoring imagery. It is true, of course, that 
attention to these images for themselves would involve a shift in 
attitude, and that they would thus prove an obstruction to realisation 
of meaning. 4. In considering the propositions of the third group, 
Fox states that “prompt and thorough understanding coincides with 
the absence of images.”34 This is evidenced by the reports of three 
subjects of whom Fox says: “Three subjects obtained what may be 
described as an associative image, namely an image not directly 
called up by the lines but evoked by association with their meaning. 
In these cases the image was that of a book on education in which 
a similar doctrine to that expressed in the lines was discussed. Now 
those who had these images must have realised the meaning before 
the images came, since such images depend on understanding the 
meaning.”85 Hence he concludes that these three subjects realised 
the meaning of the statement without the aid of images. We have 
not the introspective reports for reference, and it may be that these 
present evidence that the images were associative. From what Fox 
tells us, however, it does not seem necessarily true that “those who 
had these images must have realised the meaning before the images 
came, since such images depend on understanding the meaning.’ It 
seems quite possible that the image of “a book on education” might 
have carried the meaning of the lines instead of being dependent on 
them. In conclusion Fox states: “The experiments show that any 
delay or conflict in consciousness is a favorable condition for arousing 
a relevant mental image, that is, one that will in some way tend to 
help towards a cessation of the conflict. All the other conditions 
which we have found to be suitable for stimulating the production 
of mental images are reducible to this general formula. . . . The 
experiments also show directly that the contrary set of conditions are 
(sic) unfavorable to the production of images. Thorough or imme- 

32 [bid., 427. 
33 [bid., 427. 
34 [bid., 429. 
35 [bid., 429. 


diate understanding, an easily grasped conception, ready assent to a 
proposition, straightforward or unimpeded reasoning, are all cases 
in which, as a general rule, images play no part. Further, concen- 
tration of thought on meaning is unfavorable to the stimulation of 
mental imagery, but this cannot be brought easily under the above 
general formula.”8® We agree with Fox’s statement with respect to 
the conditions favorable for arousing mental imagery. We cannot, 
however, fully accept his statement of conditions unfavorable to the 
stimulation of imagery. “Thorough or immediate understanding.” 
as in cases where the propositions come to the O labeled “ You’ve 
accepted me before,” may be explained by the operation of brain- 
habit, so that no imagery would be needed. In “straightforward or 
unimpeded reasoning” it seems probable that, the attention being on 
meaning, the processes might be overlooked. Of the 60 thought- 
processes of our 5 O’s, only 3 or 5% occurred without imagery. We 
are, accordingly, inclined to believe that, in some at least of the situa- 
tions mentioned by Fox as unfavorable to the production of imagery, 
the imaginal content was overlooked, so quick is the process of thought 
and so completely is the attention of the subject likely to be con- 
centrated on meaning. We have a parallel case in the neglect of 
after-images and double images in everyday experiences when other 
things are in the focus of attention. We should, therefore, agree 
with Fox’s last statement (if we may change the word ‘stimulation ’ 
o ‘report’) that “concentration of thought on meaning is unfavor- 
able to the report of mental imagery.” 

The general results of the experiments in which we used the second 
set of instructions and material similar to the statements of Fox 
may be briefly mentioned. With the exception of one O, D, these 
instructions were interpreted as calling for a report both of meaning 
and of process. This O persisted in his statement that he was never 

‘aware of the realisation” and so could not report on it. The reports 
with these instructions were much less full, and the use of the 
expression “of what the realisation consists” seemed to throw the 
emphasis on meaning rather than on process. One O (as we have 
reported above) said: “To me realisation means a sort of accept- 
ance or approval of the meaning.” If Fox’s subjects interpreted his 
instructions in this way, it is evident that they were set to report 
meaning and not process; so that images, although present, may 
easily have been overlooked. 

Two things may be learned from the repetition of this experi- 
ment: (1) the necessity of phrasing instructions carefully and ac- 
curately; (2) the need for as flexible and unbiased an interpretation 
of results as possible. 


Our problem remained the same as in Experiment A. In 
considering the results of this experiment we discussed some 
of the difficulties encountered in arranging material and de- 
termining procedure. In Experiment B we tried to overcome 
some of these difficulties. Our material consisted of paired 
words whose relations to each other with respect to likeness, 
difference, etc., the O’s were to give. It may be remembered 

36 Tbid., 430 ff. 


that we found that one of the sources of error in the material 
used in Experiment A was the lengthy statement of the prob- 
lem. We hoped that the series of paired words would elim- 
inate this difficulty; the question asked in the instructons 
would finally be present only as a set, and the statement of 
the problem would be reduced to two words. It seemed also 
that this type of material might be a halfway house between 
the “wordy” problem and the single word-stimulus. 

The O was seated with his back to E, and was instructed to keep 
his eyes closed during the reading of the paired words and the deter- 
mination of the answer. The instructions were as follows: “I shall 
present to you a series of paired words and I want you to tell me 
in what respect the members of each pair differ from each other. 
After you have done this, please describe as well as you can the 
experiences upon which your differentiation was based.” Three series 
of 15 paired words each were used. The two words were read to 
the O; the stop-watch was started as the last word was spoken by 
E and stopped as soon as O gave his answer. The following are 
typical of the paired words used; cut-scratch, education-culture, pos- 
sible-practicable, Dickens-Scott. There were five O’s. Two of these, 
Z and H, had worked in Experiment A. The others were Miss R. 
Stutsman (St), and Messrs. P. Cavanaugh (C) and E. Tolman (T). 

had had some training in observation, but St and T were untrained. 
The experiment covered a period of two weeks. At the end of this 
time the O’s were asked to give likenesses instead of differences, and 
the instructions were changed accordingly. Thirty pairs of words, 

such as memory-imagination, water-air, nymph-mermaid, were used. 

Number of Cases 


(a) Illustrative 57 | 93 
(6) Non-illustrative 18 | 24 
(c) Combination of a and b 12; 8 

Subject-matter of Problem 
(a) Ch 42 
(6b) Fixed 6 
(c) Combination of a and b............ 

Regulation of Problem 
(a) Formulation 
(6) Anticipation 
(ec) Criticism 

Means of Escape from Problem 

Illustration of the Answer 
(a) Reinforcement 

a, b, etc., at the head of the Table, refer to the relationships listed on 


The experiment covered a period of a week. In order to eliminate 
certain difficulties, which we shall discuss later, we again changed 
the material and instructions. We still used paired words, but words 
which stood in various relations to each other. The instructions 
were: “[ shall read you 2 words. You are to tell in what respect 
(a) they are like each other, (b) they differ from each other, (c) 
one is dependent upon the other, (d) one is convertible into the other, 
(e) one affects the other. After you have given your answer, please 
describe the experiences upon which the answer was based.” Before 
pronouncing the 2 words, E indicated the relation between them to 
be given by O. The following are typical of the paired words used 
in this series: hypothesis-law (convertible), democracy-education 
(affect), capital-labor (dependent). The experiment lasted 2 weeks 
and with one exception (H) the O’s were the same as before. 

We give first a classification of the imagery used in deter- 
mining the various relations between the paired words. 

The types of imaginal experience upon which the differen- 
tiations were based are: 

1. Two images which may be present (a) simultaneously, (6) suc- 
cessively, (c) successively with a recurrence of the first image. Num- 
ber of instances=104. 

Stimulus: egg-stone. Report: “One is breakable, the other breaks. 
There was a scrappy bit of visual imagery, vague. It carried the 
meaning of falling and breaking. Over against that was a kinaesthetic 
image in the throat. It carried the meaning of hard, something that 
wouldn’t break” (H). 

2. Two images may be present and the basis for differentiation be 
carried by the second. Number of instances=13. 

Stimulus: stumble-fall. Report: “To fall is to go clear to the 
ground. A visual image of myself stumbling on a brick walk. I 
was leaning forward. There was a weak kinaesthetic image in my 
chest and shoulders and a motor image in my toe. Then the word 
‘fall’ came. With this there came, in just a flash, a visual image of 
a man lying on the ground. Then the difference came; to fall is to 
go clear to the ground” (Z). 

_ 3. One or two images may be present, the differentiation being made 
in verbal-motor imagery. Number of instances™=27 

Stimulus: cook-fry. Report: “You boil in water, but you fry in 
grease. I had a visual image of something frying in a skillet. With 
‘cook’ there was a visual image of a pot. I was trying to get at 
something in the pan and pot to differentiate them. This was in 
verbal-motor imagery: ‘You don’t fry in water’” (Z). 

4. There may be a visual schema, accompanied or unaccompanied 
by anchoring images. Number of instances=15. 

Stimulus: radical-progressive. Report: “A radical person has less 
sense than a progressive person. A visual image in dark grey of the 
two words written out on a neutral grey background. ‘Radical’ 
was above ‘progressive.’ At that point there was no difference. Then 
‘radical’ moved rapidly to the right. The right meant ‘ahead of,’ 
‘away from,’ or ‘his going too far ahead to be sensible.’ All this 
touched the answer off” (C). 


5. There may be two modalities carrying the meaning of the first 
stimulus-word, the differentiation being based on the absence of one 
of the modalities in the imagery carrying the meaning of the second 
stimulus-word. Number of instances=7. 

Stimulus: fry-cook. Report: “The difference is auditory. With 
‘fry’ I had a vague visual image which meant a frying pan with 
meat on a gas-plate. This was very scrappy, and was ‘accompanied 
by a clearer auditory image of equal intensity. With ‘cook’ there 
was a vague visual image of a pot. I saw nothing cooking in it, though 
the meaning was there. The auditory image was lacking here, and 
this lack forced the first difference” (H). 

6. There may be verbal-motor imagery accompanied by illustrative 
imagery. Number of instances=3. 

Stimulus: powerless-weak. Report: “ You may have a little power 
and be weak, but if you have no power you can’t do anything. I was 
at sea for a while. Then I thought (verbal-motor imagery ) ‘ They’re 
absolutely synonymous, but she asked for a difference.’ Then I thought 
of an engine, an automobile engine, powerless; then of an engine 
running very weakly (visual imagery) and then came in the con- 
crete experience which was the basis of differentiation” (Z). There 
were reported 3 instances in which the differentiations were based 
on different feelings (pleasantness and unpleasantness) set up by the 
two stimulus words; two instances in which the differentiation was 
based on two different sensations; and two in which it was based 
on a difference between image and sensation. 

The types of imaginal experiences upon which the likenesses 
were based are: 

1. Two images may be present (a) simultaneously, (b) successively, 
the likeness being determined by the presence of one or more similar 
qualities in the two images, or by full similarity, or by eye-movement 
from the one image to the other; or the answer may be set off imme- 
diately.27_ Number of instances=42. 

2. There may be two images, the first of which carries the meaning 
of a superordinate class. Number of instances=16. 

Stimulus : purple- -orange. Report: “Both are colors. After the 
stimulus ‘purple’ I had a visual image of a patch of dark purple. 
With ‘orange’ the verbal-motor image ‘color’ came. The purple 
image meant ‘color,’ so that when ‘orange’ came I could give ‘color’ 
at once” (Z).38 

3. There may be a visual schema. Number of instances=3. 

4. There may be anchoring imagery together with verbal-motor imag- 
ery. Number of instances=12. 

5. Illustrative imagery may follow or accompany a response given 
immediately. Number of instances=9. 

Stimulus: apple-ball. Report: “Both are round. As soon as E 
had said ‘apple-ball,’ ‘round’ came. After I had made my decision 
visual images of ‘apple’ and ‘ball’ came” (Z). 

87 Tllustrations will be given only in cases in which the types of 
experience differ from those reported for the differentiations. 

38 Cf. the “tibergeordneten Begriff” of A. Messer, Experimentell- 
psychologische Untersuchungen tiber das Denken, Arch. f. d. ges. 
Psych., 8, 1906, 78. 


The analysis of the experiences upon which the determina- 
tions of the other kinds of relations were based showed no 
new types of imaginal experiences. 


I. We have obtained in this experiment further evidence 
of the importance of imagery. Although we reduced our 
problems to lowest terms, imagery was needed. Almost as 
important as the imagery is the part played by the “set” 
produced by the instructions. It will doubtless have been 
observed in the giving of both likenesses and differences that 
the presence of two images carrying the meanings of the 
stimulus-words was not enough in itself to touch off the 
answer. The determination to report a difference or a like- 
ness was the essential thing. This is especially noticeable 
in the case of the differentiations. 

II. Our material and procedure in this experiment were 
arranged with a view to eliminating some of the difficulties 
found in Experiment A. (1) Material. The shortened state- 
ment of the problem avoided the setting up of imagery present 
in the reading of a longer problem, and focused the attention 
on the question itself. This is clearly advantageous. On the 
other hand, unless the stimulus-words are chosen with care, 
much less thought is required than in the case of the problems. 
The acquisition of a set for a superordinate concept, as was 
the case with the likenesses, made O’s task considerably easier. 
The simplicity or perhaps the uniformity of presentation of 
the material seemed to make possible a fixed kind of reaction 
to it. The generality of the instructions permitted super- 
ficial answers and, accordingly, less thought on the part of O. 
The demand for a more fundamental likeness or difference 
meant the suppression of the first answer that came and the 
search for a second; all of which would increase the task 
of report. (2) The task of the experimenter. In the inter- 
pretation of results E’s work was much easier with the use 
of this material. The reports of the O’s were briefer and 
seemed to be more accurate and complete. The O’s were 
often able to say with reference to a specific process: “It 
was this that carried the meaning of likeness,” thus marking 
it off from the other processes reported. If the O’s are to 
be trusted, E’s burden is appreciably lightened. (3) The in- 
fluence of the experimental attitude upon the O’s. We have 
already mentioned the fact that O, knowing he has to report 
his experiences, may be set to think in imaginal terms to a 
greater extent than is usual with him. Indeed, one of our 


O’s, after having given a full report of the imagery used in 
making a differentiation, said: “If I were asked on the street 
to give the difference between “old” and “ obsolete,” I think 
that the thing would go off in verbal terms.” This remark 
led us to undertake our next experiment. 

ExperIMENT B. 2. ExpPeRIMENT UNpeR Non-Lasoratory ConpiITIONS 

We wished to find to what extent imagery is present as a basis for 
answering questions when the questions are not a part of a laboratory 
exercise. In other words, we wanted to catch our O’s without the 
experimental attitude upon them, and without the knowledge that 
they would be asked to give “the experiences upon which the answer 
was based.” Outside of observation-hours questions such as would 
arise naturally in the course of a conversation were asked casually. 
When the “O” had as casually answered, we asked him if there were 
any imagery present as the basis of his answer. We have 29 reports 
from 5 of our regular O’s, Z, H, B, D, and S; and 4 reports from 
persons having no training in psychology. These reports are, of 
course, necessarily incomplete; but with only 3 exceptions there was 
reported imagery of some kind upon which the answer was based. 
In 2 of the 3 exceptions kinaesthesis was reported; and in the case of 
the remaining exception the subject stated that the answer came 
automatically. We give an illustration of the procedure used. The 
“E” and the “O” were talking about Stout and his books. O was 
asked what Stout had written, and replied: “He wrote a couple of 
books that I know of and he stands for the theory of conation.” E 
then asked: “Did you have any imagery when you answered my 
question?” The answer follows: “Yes. I had a visual image of the 
titles of the books and of their covers. I also saw printed, as if an 
excerpt from a book, the word ‘conative.’” This group of experi- 
ments shows that imagery is of frequent occurrence in everyday think- 
ing. The high percentage of cases in which imagery was reported is 
undoubtedly due to the fact that 5 of the 7 persons questioned were 
trained O’s. The demand for a report under these conditions implies 
a quick shift from a logical to a psychological attitude, of which 
only trained O’s are capable. It is clear, then, that a good deal of 
imagery is present in thinking, and that its presence is not sclely 
the result of laboratory conditions. 


Our experiments in thinking gave us no instances of irrele- 
vant material. Though we had been attacking our problem 
on the side of relevancy, we had expected to get at irrelevancy 
indirectly. It seemed best now to concern ourselves directly 
with irrelevancy. We began this section of our experimental 
work with experiments at the perceptive level, resembling 
everyday experiences. Each one of the situations in these 
experiments included an irrelevant factor. We wished to ob- 
tain a description of consciousness at the instant when the 
irrelevant factor appeared in the situation. 


There were 3 parts of the experiment. (1) We set the O’s simple 
tasks into each one of which an irrelevant factor was introduced. At 
the appearance of the irrelevancy we interrupted the O in his task, 
and asked him to describe his experiences at the moment of inter- 
ruption. There were 4 tasks of this sort: (a) the sorting, according 
to 3 presented samples, of buttons drawn from a bag in which was 
one button unlike any of the samples; (b) the sorting, according to 
the arrangement of holes punched in them, of cards taken from a 
piled pack, one of which was different from all the others; (c) the 
arranging, in order of preference, of samples of cloth pasted on paper, 
among which there was an oblong of paper with no cloth on it; (d) 
the presentation, for brief study, of a picture about which were 
later asked questions one of which had nothing to do with the sub- 
ject-matter of the picture. The instructions were: “Here are 3 
buttons, and others of the same sort are mixed up in the bag. You 
are to put your hand in the bag and, taking out one at a time, arrange 
them in piles according to the samples shown. When I say ‘ Now,’ 
you are to drop the task if it is still incomplete and describe your 
experiences at the moment of interruption.” The first part of the 
instructions was changed to suit the nature of the task, but the latter 
part remained the same for all 4 tasks. The time was taken with a 
stop-watch chiefly in order to hold the O strictly to his task. 

(2) The material for the second part of the experiment was a 
paragraph the latter part of which was entirely irrelevant to the 
beginning. The irrelevant part was begun on the last line of a sheet 
of paper so that the O was obliged to turn to the second sheet to 
continue his reading. This arrangement had the double advantage 
of preventing the reader from glancing ahead to the irrelevant part, 
and of letting E know when to interrupt. The instructions were: 
“T shall give you a paragraph which I want you to read carefully 
enough to give its contents after reading. When I say ‘Now,’ you 
are to drop the task if it is still incomplete, and describe your experi- 
ences at the moment of interruption.” (3) The material for the third 
part of the experiment consisted of 4 paragraphs which contained 
such errors as: repetitions, omissions, misspellings, transpositions, and 
omission of punctuation. The instructions were: “I shall give you 
a short paragraph which you are to read carefully. After you have 
finished your reading, you are to give a summary of the paragraph.” 
After the O had read and reported on all 4 of the paragraphs, he 
was asked if he had noted any errors of form, and if so to describe 
his experiences when he noted them. Only one of the foregoing 
experiments took place in any one observation-hour, and it either 
preceded or followed other experimental work. There were 5 O’s, 
3 of whom, H, S, and Z, had observed in Experiments A and B; and 
2 of whom, B and D, had observed only in the repetition of Fox’s 

Sorting Problems 

Three of the tasks (1 (a), (b), (c)) were of the same 
general nature, 1.e., sorting problems. The reports show the 
presence of 4 stages in the realisation of irrelevancy: 

1. Perception (usually tactual), accompanied by immediate judg- 
ment of difference and supplemented by imagery; 

2. Visual perception of difference; 


3. Feeling component: 

(a) Astonishment Analyzable into kinaesthetic sensa- 
(6) Surprise and wonder tions, affective processes, and imag- 
(c) Indecision ery 

4. Reaction: 

(a) Immediate (directed by determining tendency) ; 
(b) Mediate (verbal-motor imagery). 

We give a report of the experiences described in the per- 
formance of one of the tasks. “ First a cutaneous perception 
which was different from the preceding one; the pressure was 
much heavier. There was a brief snatch of visual imagery 
which went with this cutaneous pressure sensation and car- 
ried the meaning of the type of button and the fact that it 
was different. I think I verbalised this as: ‘I wonder what 
this is.’ Added to this was the perception of the visual black 
[the odd button was black], and then without consciously 
intending to do anything, I threw it outside. The kinaesthetic 
process and the perception of throwing brought the meaning 
of rejection” (D). In the case of some of the other O’s the 
feeling-part of the experience was more marked. It was 
always present, and seems to be characteristic of the appear- 
ance of the irrelevant component of the situation. 

The sorting of cards, as an experience Containing an ir- 
relevancy, was a failure. The card which differed in the 
arrangement of its punched holes from the other cards was 
in no case perceived as different, the difference apparently 
being so slight as to be overlooked. The reports on this situ- 
ation are, however, valuable; they show the difference be- 
tween a situation containing an irrelevant factor and one 
containing only relevant factors. We find reports of stage 
2, the visual perception of difference, and of stage 4, the 
reaction. In this perception there was no tactual element, 
for the ‘ feel,’ in general, of all the cards was the same. The 
significant thing is the absence of the feeling-component. Of 
importance, also, is the fact that in all cases the reaction was 
immediate, never mediate. 

Reading Problem: Irrelevant Meanings 

In their reports on the second part of the experiment, in 
which the material was the single paragraph, all O’s noted the 
“ meaninglessness ” of the irrelevant part. The absence of 
meaning was accompanied by feelings of strangeness, con- 
fusion, puzzlement, etc. The meaning of irrelevancy was car- 
ried by pressure sensations (staring at the page), muscular 
tension (an attempt to hold the meaning together), and verbal- 


motor imagery, which usually expressed an attempt to force 
a relationship to the preceding part of the paragraph. 

Reading Problem: Typographical Errors 

In the third part of the experiment we set our O’s too diffi- 
cult a task. They could not give a report of processes, even 
when they had noted errors, so long after the observation 
had taken place. The difficulty was further increased by 
the set for relevant meanings. It should be said, however, 
that we were aware of the difficulty of this task; we had 
wished to arrange an everyday situation, like the reading 
of a newspaper, in which the irrelevancies should be com- 
monplace. One O noticed no errors and said reproachfully 
when asked to report: “I didn’t notice any errors; I wasn’t 
set for proof-reading ” (Z). The 4 other O’s remembered 
and reported mistakes in the paragraphs, but 2 of them 
could give no report of process because they had not taken 
the attitude for report. The third O, H, reported that he 
ignored the errors as he read, “ for he was reading for thought 
rather than for grammar.” He mentioned, however, a ten- 
dency to read aright in auditory imagery the mistakes, and 
also some verbal-motor imagery carrying the meaning of 
errors. The fourth O, B, reported verbal-motor imagery 
carrying the meaning of annoyance at writing so carelessly 
done by E. 


We have seen that a marked irrelevancy is characterized 
by feeling accompanying the inhibition set up; and that where 
the irrelevancy is less marked, it tends to be overlooked be- 
cause of the set for relevant meanings. 

EXPERIMENT D. 1. Pictures 

In Experiment C we began to study irrelevancy directly. 
We arranged situations containing irrelevancies on the per- 
ceptive level, and we secured an analysis of the situations 
from our O’s. From these analyses we found that when an 
irrelevancy appeared in a situation it was accompanied by 
“ feelings.” We wished now to find out whether such feel- 
ings might be the criteria of the entrance of irrelevant imag- 
ery into an imaginal situation. To this end we had to ar- 
range a situation in which there should be some imagery 
irrelevant to it; as, for example, the black button was irrele- 
vant to the other buttons in the bag. We wanted, with our 


O’s set for imagery, to have a complex background of imag- 
ery upon which they could draw. To secure this we used 
3 kinds of material and procedure. 

1. We presented to O a series of 12 pictures, mainly narrative, 
brightly colored, and varying in size from 6 by 8 inches to 12 by 
16 inches. The instructions were: “I shall show you a picture for 
a short period. Please observe it carefully. At the end of this period 
you will be allowed two minutes in which to write a description of 
the picture, giving its title.” The O’s were seated in front of a grey 
screen upon which was mounted one of the pictures. The picture 
was at first covered by a curtain, which was raised just after the 

“ready” signal and let fall after an exposure of 15 seconds. This 
procedure took one observation-hour. At the beginning of the next 
observation-period we gave the O the following instructions: “I shall 
name to you one of the pictures that you learned last time. When 
you hear the name, I want you to recall the picture as vividly as 
possible. Three seconds after I have named the picture I shall read 
you a simple problem which you are to solve as quickly as possible. 
Say ‘Yes’ when you have solved it, and then begin to report as fully 
as you can the course of your experiences during the experiment.” 
After each one of the pictures had been presented once for recall, 
they were presented again in a different order, and followed by dif- 
ferent problems. 

2. The material for the second part of the experiment was put in 
the form of a completion-test. We took from various books descrip- 
tive paragraphs having the following titles: “The Mountains of the 
Desert,” “Rules of Hunting among the Greenlanders,” “ Daybreak” 
(poetry), “A Japanese Garden,” “The Winter Dwellings of the 
Esquimaux,” and “A Simple Chronoscope.” Several words, including 
all parts of speech, were omitted from these paragraphs. The O was 
given the following instructions: “I shall give you a paragraph in 
which some of the words are missing. You are to fill in the blank 
spaces, each of which indicates an omitted word. You will be given 
a certain length of time in which to do this. At the end of this time 
I shall say ‘Now’ and read you a problem which you are to solve. 
After you have given your answer, report all of your experiences 
from the reading of the problem to the giving of the answer.” No 
fixed period of time was allowed for filling in the words of the para- 
graph. The O was interrupted in his task when he was seen to be 
near the end of the paragraph. 

3. The material for this part of the experiment consisted of 3 
separate words. For the most part the words all referred to a single 
situation as crowd—touchdown—cheers; though there were a few 
cases in which the 3 words might set up different trains of thought, 
as for example turkey—star—electric. The instructions show the pro- 
cedure. “I shall read you 3 words. Give yourself passively to any 
imagery that comes. After 15 seconds, I shali read you a problem 
which you are to solve and report on in the regular way.” O was 
seated with his back to E and with his eyes closed. There were in 
the three parts of Experiment D 5 O’s, all of whom had served in the 
other experiments. 

In the first part of the experiment we endeavored to supply 
the O with a background of imagery upon which should be 


impinged a problem to be solved. We desired, of course, to 
know what happened to this imagery when the problem came. 
We shall refer to the imagery called up by the O in this part 
of the experiment as the picture-imagery, since it was deter- 
mined by the previous presentation of pictures. An analysis 
of the reports of the 5 O’s shows that the picture-imagery may 
behave in at least 3 different ways. 

(1) It may drop out at the beginning of the reading of the problem, 
either suddenly or gradually. 

Report: “The first imagery (picture-imagery ) came quite quickly, 
so that when I repeated the name of the picture, it was there almost 
immediately. In quality it was greyish and reddish. It lacked a 
background. Then began the reading of the problem, and there was 
with it rather good visual imagery of trees. Somewhere here the 
first imagery went out” (D). 

(2) It may remain during the reading of the problem, in which case 
the problem is (a) not sensorily clear, (b) not cognitively clear, (c) 
neither sensorily nor cognitively clear, and the picture-imagery loses 
in clearness, detail, meaningfulness; or there is a fluctuation in clear- 
ness between the picture-imagery and the problem, in which both seem 
equally insistent in turn. 

Report: “The auditory stimulus (name of picture) carried the 
meaning of familiarity and with this there was a visual image of 
the bird sitting on a post out in Oregon where I knew the bird. 
Then quickly came the image of the picture as seen. The image 
was intense and rich in detail. Then the problem came. It was a 
sensation without meaning. The association with the bird persisted; 
its song came in auditory imagery and a visual image that meant 
‘bird’ persisted all the time that the words of the problem were 
coming. It was there until nearly the end of the reading. During the 
last part of the reading the attention was on the auditory sensation 
more than on the meaning. Then an auditory image that meant the 
whole problem repeated twice. By this time the ‘bird’ was pushed 
aside and the attention was on the problem. The meaning of the 
problem became clear cognitively” (H). 

(3) It may remain or may recur during the reading of the problem 
and be illustrative of it. 

Report: “The auditory sensation of ‘The Line Up’ (the name of 
the picture) brought a visual image that meant the picture. It was 
tich in color-meaning. At first the auditory sensations were very 
obscure, not cognised. At the third word there was touched off a 
determination to solve the problem, and the visual imagery dropped 
right out. With the word ‘cloth’ (word of the problem) there was 
a recurrence of a bit of the picture-imagery meaning the red shawl 
on the man’s back. From there on there was a determination to 
listen to the problem” (H). 

What happens to the picture-imagery is obvious. Where 
it is irrelevant, it drops out; where it can be used,—that is, 
where it becomes relevant,—it remains. It is true that it may 
not drop out all at once; but in that case it interferes with 
the grasping of the statement of the problem, as well as 


being interfered with in its turn by the problem. There is 
a struggle between the two for the field of attention, and 
now the one and now the other is clear. There is, more- 
over, no awareness of irrelevancy so far as the picture- 
imagery is concerned. The irrelevant factor here is the audi- 
tory perception of the problem, and we find its appearance 
characterised in much the same way as was the appearance 
of the black button. For example, one O reports: “I couldn’t 
shake the picture out of my mind (when the problem came). 
There was muscular tension and internal speech while I was 
trying to get my bearings. There was strain around the eyes, 
discomfort, and unpleasantness” (B). This is evidently our 
feeling-component of Experiment C; but here, as there, it is 
characteristic of a perception, not of an image. We have 
another kind of situation when the imagery remains or recurs 
during the reading of the problem. In this case the shift 
from the picture-imagery-awareness to the problem-aware- 
ness has been made. In two of the three reported instances 
of this sort the picture-imagery has entirely faded out, and 
recurs only to carry the meaning, in an illustrative fashion, of 
part of the problem. It is to be noted that only that part of 
the picture-imagery which is relevant to the problem-meaning 
recurs ; the whole of the image does not come*back. We have 
thus succeeded in giving our O’s a background of imagery, 
and they draw upon this where they can; for the rest, it 
disappears. In the third instance included under this head- 
ing, the picture-imagery remained during the reading of the 
problem. It began, however, to lose in detail, and now one 
part and then another of the visual image was clear. The 
problem was lacking in cognitive clearness. The first word 
of the problem to be comprehended was the word ‘ trees’ which 
the O said “ persisted ” and was related to a tree in the visual 
image. What we have here is a reinforcement of the problem- 
meaning by a part of the picture-imagery. After this the pic- 
ture-imagery dropped out and the problem became clear. 
There remain for consideration 3 cases in which the problem- 
imagery was superposed on the picture-imagery. These we 
shall discuss along with the results of the third part of the 


We expected in this part of the experiment, as in the pre- 


ceding part, that the O’s might be “revelling in imagery’ 
when the problem came; and we hoped that they might have 
recourse to imagery in their attempts to fill in the blanks 


in the completion-test. We interrupted them just before the 
paragraph was completed, so that any imagery present should 
have been at its richest. An analysis of the reports shows 
the experiences of the O’s when the problem came and the 
effect of the previous task on the problem. 

1. There may be a complete and immediate shift in attitude from 
the completion-test to the problem. 

Report: “In the paragraph the first blank was a nuisance to me. 
I was tired of the test and in a sort of careless attitude so that when 
the problem came I was glad; and the test dropped out entirely” (Z). 

2. There may be between the test-attitude and the problem-solving- 
attitude a state characterised by the O’s as “a period of cognitive 
blankness” or as “a chaotic consciousness.” 

Report: “Consciousness was chaos at first. There was a series 
of auditory sensations having no meanings” (S 

3. The test-attitude, carried by (@) visual imagery, (b) kinaes- 
thetic imagery or kinaesthetic sensation, renders the problem sensorily 
unclear, cognitively unclear, or both. 

Report: “Visual imagery (from the completion-test) was present 
when you started reading the problem. As the problem was read I 
turned sharply toward you, meaning that I was going to pay atten- 
tion. The first part of the statement came merely as auditory sen- 
sation and without specific meaning, though with the meaning ‘here is 
the problem.’ There was a reference back to the paragraph carried 
in kinaesthetic sensation; a tendency to turn the head back. Then 
there was verbal-motor imagery of parts of the problem and some 
visual imagery” (D). 

4. The imagery used in the completion-test may hang over or recur 
during the reading of the problem, in which case the problem is sen- 
sorily and cognitively unclear or is not heard. The results of -this 
experiment show that the conditions set are not conducive to the 
“carrying-over ” of imagery from one situation to another; the break 
between the two situations is too great. What we really have here 
is a study of shift in attitude. There remains for consideration one 
case in which the imagery used in the completion-test remained dur- 
ing the solution of the problem. This we shall discuss in connection 
with the results of the third part of the experiment. 

Just as in the first part of the experiment the reading of the 
problem was characterised by a feeling-component, so was 
it here. The O’s were “annoyed,” “ irritated,” “ bothered,” 
when the problem was read and the set task interrupted. 
We are again reminded of the experiments in perception. 


In the third part of the experiment the procedure was 
more succesful so far as the setting up of a background of 
imagery is concerned. We have a total of 324 reports from 
the O’s. These show that the imagery set up by the 3 words 
(to be referred to as the 3-word imagery) may behave as 


1. The imagery may drop out before the problem comes, or with 
the reading of the first word. Number of instances=79. 

Stimulus: bells—horses—fire. Report: “I was trying to hear the 
bells ring when the problem came. This was carried by strain in the 
ears. This | ao out at once and the problem was the only thing 
in mind” (B). 

2. It may remain during the reading of the first few words of the 
problem; or during the whole of the reading of the problem, in which 
case the problem may be rendered sensorily or cognitively unclear. 
Number of instances=79. 

Stimulus: elephant—man—sawdust. Report: “The 3-word imagery 
was good. When the problem began I did not attend, for I was 
engrossed with a visual image of the elephant and his trainer and the 
sawdust on the floor. Then I ‘picked up’ a memory after-image of 
the first part of the question and the visual image dropped out” (Z). 

3. It may recur or it may fluctuate with (a) the reading of the 
problem or (6) the solution of the problem. Number of instances==46. 

Stimulus: June—stars—perfume. Report: “The 3 words set up 
visual imagery and also some auditory and olfactory imagery. The 
problem at first was obscure. The imagery persisted clearer than the 
sensation. Then the imagery dropped out and the sensation became 
clear cognitively. The visual imagery came back very, very briefly. 
There was no connection of meaning between the visual imagery 
and the auditory sensation. Then the visual imagery dropped out, 
meaning that I could get no aid in the problem from the imagery” (H). 

4. It may remain or recur (a) as a whole, (b) in part, (c) changed 
in form or meaning or both, to serve as all or part of the anchoring 
imagery of the problem. Number of instances=50. 

Stimulus: red—fragrant—alive. Report: “‘Red’ and ‘fragrant’ 
called up a visual image of a red rose on a small bush. Then in 
verbal-motor imagery, ‘alive, alive; that’s alive.’ This imagery re- 
mained until E set the second situation (Problem: A man wanted 
to catch a kitten but the kitten ran up a tall tree which no person 
could climb. How could he get the kitten without hurting it?). The 
reading of the problem was accompanied by a shift in imagery. The 
thorns on the tree became large and looked wicked, meaning ‘No 
person can climb it.’ They also meant a very large bush like a tree. 
The rose was still on top and the kitten was near the rose” (Z). 

5. It may remain or recur (a) as a whole, (b) in part, (c) changed 
in form or in meaning or both, to serve as the material for solving 
the problem. Number of instances=31. 

Stimulus: prison—stripes—chains. Report: “The 3-word imagery 
was quite good and was of a prisoner in stripes with ball and chains 
on his leg. Then came the problem (Problem: How do you play 
‘Snap the Whip?’). There was verbal-motor repetition of the prob- 
lem which helped me to remember it. The visual imagery was modified 
and now included a lake and skaters. The prisoner stood still in the 
middle of the lake as if the place where he had been in the 3-word 
imagery was now the ice. The ‘ball’ became a man and the ‘chain’ 
a string of skaters. Then the string of skaters moved and the pris- 
oner stood there” (D). 

6. It may drop out as soon as the problem comes, but may recur 
after the answer to the problem has been given, in which case it may 


be (a) illustrative of the problem, (b) non-illustrative of the prob- 
lem. Number of instances=6. 

Stimulus: cat—yarn—basket. Report: “ The 3-word imagery came. 
Then the problem was read (Problem: Suppose that you have been 
sitting in one position for a long time and your foot goes to sleep. 
What is the thing to do?). I hardly know what happened in the 
solution. I had a visual image which meant my foot going to sleep. 
This was an irregular patch with bright zigzag lines. Then I said 
the answer and back came the 3-word imagery” (D). 

7. It may serve as a background into which is projected a person 
or the O himself who solves the problem. The background may last 
throughout the problem-solving or drop out before the problem has 
been solved. Number of instances=12. 

Stimulus: dew—garden—silence. Report: “A visual image of a 
nice flower garden in the early morning before sun-up. I was in it. 
When the question came that visual image was still there vividly 
and I was solving the problem, projected to that garden (Problem: 
Why is an octave so named?). I was in the garden thinking: ‘ octave, 
octagon’ in verbal-motor imagery. Then came the verbal-motor 
‘eight’ and I said, ‘do, re, mi, fa,’ and gave my answer. The 3-word 
not was there until the end, but I was the important part in 
it ” ( 

8. It may recur to serve as a means of escape from solving the 
problem. Number of instances=2. 

Stimulus: doctor—lawyer—minister. Report: “The 3-word imagery 
was present sharply and the problem came and was carried partly by 
visual imagery which was in the lower right part of the field (Prob- 

lem: If 3 oranges cost one fifth of a dollar, how much will 2 cost?). 
The rest of the problem was carried by verbal-motor imagery with 
here and there a visual tag, but the solution seemed to be in terms 
of verbal-motor imagery. The 3-word imagery recurred at least 3 
or 4 times. It seemed to be impossible | to solve the problem. Later 

I made a specific effort. Once I said: ‘Report that you can’t do it. 
Then by forcing myself I got the answer. Near the end there was a 
recurrence of the 3-word imagery. It was very, very scrappy” (D). 

9. It may persist either through part of the solution or until the 
end of the solution of the problem, in which case the problem-imagery 
is (a) in front of it, (b) at its left or right. Number of instances=10. 

Stimulus: infant—manger—wise men. Report: “There was good 
3-word imagery. It stayed, so that there was no break when the prob- 
lem came (Problem: How was Achilles made invulnerable?). When 
‘Achilles’ was mentioned he seemed to be at the left of the other 
image; larger and clearer. He was running. Then I started to give 
the answer” (S). 

10. It may remain throughout the solution until the answer has 
been given, in which case the O (a) can give no report, or at least 
no certain report, of the experiences leading to the answer, (b) states 
that the answer came immediately or automatically. Number of in- 

Stimulus: chimes—snow—carols. Report: “The 3-word imagery 
was very good. Then came the reading of the problem and its mean- 
ing was carried in verbal-motor imagery (Problem: Where do corks 
for bottles come from?). The 3-word imagery was still there and 
almost as good in detail as before. There may have been a little 


tag of visual imagery which carried part of the meaning for my 
answer; I am not sure. About here I found myself answering. [I 
didn’t know I was going to answer until I heard myself” (D). 

We are already familiar with some of the foregoing head- 
ings, so that a detailed discussion of them will not be neces- 
sary. The cases in which the 3-word imagery dropped out 
before the problem came included those in which the words 
had not evoked any imagery at all, and those in which the 
imagery was poor in detail and in clearness. Frequently, 
too, the set to solve the problem caused a clean break when the 
problem came, although the 3-word imagery might have been 
good. The cases in which the 3-word imagery remains or 
recurs during the reading of the problem or its solution are 
illustrative of the conflict between the Aufgabe and the 3- 
word imagery. The determination to solve the problem may 
overcome the 3-word imagery before the solution is actually 
entered upon or, as in the other possibility mentioned, the 
alternation between the problem-imagery and the 3-word imag- 
ery may continue during the solution of the problem. We 
find, too, that there may be a recurrence of the 3-word imag- 
ery after the answer has been given, that is, after the deter- 
mination to solve the problem has been satisfied and the O is 
free. These cases are evidences that we succeeded in giving 
our O’s a background of imagery. A suggestion as to why 
the 3-word imagery dropped out is found in the report of an 
O who said: “The visual imagery carrying the 3-word situ- 
ation came back very briefly during the reading; then it 
dropped out, meaning that I could get no aid in the problem 
from the imagery” (H). This brings us to the cases in 
which the O did secure aid from the 3-word imagery. To 
just what extent the imagery was used in the anchoring and 
the solution of the problem the illustrations will have shown. 
That this is the economical mode of behavior for the 3-word 
imagery is obvious. The O’s had a background of imagery, 
and upon this they drew in their solving of the problems. 
Frequently, only that part of the 3-word imagery which 
was relevant remained, the irrelevant part being lost; a fur- 
ther proof of our thesis that irrelevant imagery does not ex- 
ist. We furnished our O’s with imagery logically irrelevant 
to a situation in which they might need imagery. If no aid 
could be got from the 3-word imagery or, in other words, 
if it was totally irrelevant, it dropped out. If, however, it 
could be used, though only in part, it so far remained. The 
cases in which the imagery became changed to carry the mean- 
ing are of interest. They show again the tendency to economy 
and, as well, the importance of relevancy. The cases in which 


the imagery serves as an escape from solving the problem 
are like those met with in Experiment A. The cases in which 
the 3-word imagery remains as a background during the 
solution of the problem are further illustrative of use pushed 
to its limit. The O has been revelling in a field of imagery 
from which he need not wholly withdraw; that is, the 3-word 
imagery remains relevant to the new situation. 

Before we consider the cases included under the two last headings 
(9 and 10) it seems well to discuss the attitude of the O’s toward the 
instructions during the last part of Experiment D. The smallest 
number of observations made by any one O was 55, the largest num- 
ber, 73. The same instructions were used throughout the experiment 
and the same kind of material. For the sake of convenience and 
somewhat as a matiter of course, the material was divided into 4 
groups; the first group containing 10; the second, 13; the third, 15; 
and the fourth, 35 three-word situations. So far as the O’s were con- 
cerned, the instructions underwent a process of specialization. That 
is to say, the reported behavior of the 3-word imagery at the begin- 
ning of the experiment is quite different from its behavior at the 
end. Let us, for purposes of discussion, divide our classification of 
the behavior of the 3-word imagery into 5 sections. The first section 
will include those cases in which the 3-word imagery dropped out 
either before or at the very beginning of the reading of the problem. 
The second section will include all cases in which the 3-word imagery 
hung over during either the reading or the solution of the problem, 
but in which it did not aid in the anchoring or the solution of the 
problem. In the third section will be placed the cases in which the 
3-word imagery was used as material for anchoring or solving the 
problem; and in the fourth section, the special and relatively infre- 
quent uses of the 3-word imagery listed under headings 6, 7, and 8 
of our classification. There remain for the fifth section the cases in 
which the 3-word imagery was present throughout the entire solution 
of the problem. All 4 groups of the 3-word situations will be found 
in the first section. This is to be expected, since the adequacy of 
the 3-words for setting up imagery cannot be predetermined, and 
such a word-situation may occur in any one of the 4 groups. That 
the O’s were, as time went on, more exactly obeying the instructions 
to take a passive attitude is shown by the relatively small number of 
cases in group 4 in which the 3-word imagery dropped out before the 
reading of the problem. In the cases included in the second section 
it is clear that the 3-word imagery is of more importance than it had 
been before. The O does not succeed in getting rid of it when the 
problem comes. This is perhaps due to the assumption of a more 
passive attitude with respect to the 3-word imagery. Nevertheless, 
the state of affairs is not satisfactory to the O; for he is hindered 
in both his comprehension and solution of the problem by the 3-word 
imagery. Group 4 of the 3-word situations contains the smallest 
number of cases of this kind, and group 3 the next smallest. This 
means that as the experiment went on the O was making a better 
adaptation to the complicated situation. When we come to a consid- 
eration of the third section we see at once a change. The 3-word 
imagery does not drop out with the coming of the problem, nor does 
it remain to disturb the O in his solution of the problem. It is used. 
The O has succeeded in meeting the situation with a minimum of 


annoyance to himself. Two O’s did not reach this stage until the 
fourth group of 3-word situations, and one O never reached it at all. 

The cases included in the fourth section we have discussed above. 
They are all illustrative of the uses of the 3-word imagery and, for 
the most part, occur in groups 3 and 4. What has been happening 
has been a specialisation of the instructions which is correlated with a 
successful adjustment to the situation. The specialisation has been 
in favor of the 3-word imagery. Instead of being a factor to be 
eliminated, it becomes one of value in meeting the situation, that 
is, in solving the problem. 

In the fifth section, which includes headings 9 and 10 of our classi- 
fication, the specialisation is continued. 

In stages 9 and 10 the 3-word imagery becomes so favored 
that it remains through the solution of the problem, either 
together with the problem-imagery or to the exclusion of 
the problem-imagery. There occurs a shift of relevancy from 
the problem-solving to the experiment as a whole. What the 
O does is to attend to both kinds of imagery, the 3-word and 
the problem. He is interested now, not so much in solv- 
ing the problem, as in giving a good report; a report that 
shall describe both the 3-word and the problem imagery. 
This sort of reaction to the experiment is confined to 2 O’s, 
and occurs in the case of one of them altogether within group 
4 of the 3-word situations and in the case of the other within 
groups 2, 3, and 4. The reports show that in these instances 
a fluctuation between the 3-word imagery and the problem- 
imagery takes place, and that in the fluctuation the 3-word 
imagery does not completely disappear, though it loses in 
clearness and sometimes disappears for good before the pro- 
blem-imagery disappears and the problem has been solved. 
The 3 cases of superposition of the problem-imagery on the 
picture-imagery referred to in part 1 of Experiment D,*® 
and the one case in which the imagery used in the completion- 
test remained during the solution of the problem noted in 
part 2 of the same experiment,*° are similar to the cases 
described here. They were reported by the same O, a fact 
which is further evidence of a special interpretation of in- 
structions and of a shift in relevancy from the problem solv- 
ing to the experiment as a whole. 

In the 5 cases (confined to the reports of 2 O’s) found in 
part 3 of Experiment D and included under the tenth head- 
irig of the classification of the behavior of the 3-word imagery, 
the 3-word imagery is altogether favored. The O can give 
no report of the processes leading to the solution of the pro- 
blem. In some instances he states that there was some pro- 

8° Cf. p. 222 above. 
409 Cf. p. 223 above. 


cess present but that “none came into great clearness.” The 
other O stated that the answer was given automatically. In 
this connection we would call attention to the fact that in 
none of the 5 cases did the O’s have any doubt as to the rel- 
evancy of the imagery present. In every case they were cer- 
tain that the imagery belonged to the 3-word situation and 
not to the problem, though they could not report on the imag- 
ery used in solving the problem. If, as Dr. Koffka thinks, 
we do not know whether or not our imagery in a given case 
is relevant or irrelevant, the O’s might well have reported, 
since they were specifically asked to give such a report, the 
3-word imagery as the carrier of the solution of the pro- 
blem. But this is exactly what they did not do. 

The results of this experiment (D) confirm the results of 
those preceding. We have shown that, when imagery is occu- 
pying the focus of attention, if a new situation bearing no 
relation to it is introduced, two things may happen; the imag- 
ery either drops out, or it remains and is used in the new situ- 
ation. We have found also that there may occur a special- 
isation of instructions, which means a shift of relevancy from 
one attitude to another, but that in no case is there any irrel- 
evant imagery reported. 


All of the experimental work has led us to one conclusion, 
that there is no irrelevant imagery. That at the outset we 
had expected to find it is clear from our experimental pro- 
cedure. We hoped at first to get some evidences of it in- 
directly ; and when we did not succeed we arranged situations 
in which there were irrelevant factors. The analysis of irrel- 
evancies on the perceptive level showed that they are prin- 
cipally characterised by a feeling-component. This feeling- 
component we found in later experiments, though it was 
never a characteristic of irrelevant imagery, but always of a 
total situation irrelevant to another situation, each of which 
situations had its own relevant imagery. When we finally 
succeeded, in Experiment D, in giving our O’s a background 
of imagery logically irrelevant to a situation later introduced, 
we still found no irrelevant imagery. In such a case, if the 
imagery could be used either as a whole or in part, it re- 
mained ; otherwise it dropped out. We can, then, answer Dr. 
Koffka’s criticism that “sensory contents may be irrelevant 
to the thought ;”“ for we have seen that, if imagery is present, 
it is relevant; and accordingly, if the author to whom he 

41 Koffka, op. cit., 219. 


refers meant by analysis “nothing else than the exhibition 
of the sensory contents present at any given moment,’*? she 
was right in assuming that these contents were relevant to 
the thought. 

We have called attention to the fact that not only did all 
of the O’s use imagery but that they frequently expressed 
a felt need for it. We have also brought evidence that this 
dependence upon imagery is not the result of laboratory con- 

42 Jbid., 219. 


By J. R. Kantor 

Paradoxical as it may seem, it is still true that the problem 
of meanings, which provided so much difficulty for the intro- 
spective psychologists, meets with a comparatively simple solu- 
tion by the methods and materials of the objective psychologist. 
The introspective psychologist experienced great difficulty in 
the interpretation of meanings because, presumably, the latter 
were supposed to possess essentially an inner character, which 
could not be identified with mental content of any particular 
sort, meanings being considered still more central than sen- 
sations or images. Nor is this difficulty much minimized by 
the parallelistic behaviorists' who translate the specific mean- 
ing-factor into partial movements of the eye, hand, or some 
muscle. For a meaning is in no sense a thing or a content 
either mental or physiological, but rather an act or an adjust- 
ment of the person,? which conditions another and following 


Our first and fundamental departure from the traditional 
descriptions of meaning-functions may be summed up in the 
statement that meanings, in common with all other data of 
psychology, are definite responses to stimulating objects and 
conditions. By meanings we understand specific characteristic 
differential responses to particular stimulating objects in their 
appropriate settings. Now as meaning-reactions these re- 
sponses differ from other differential reactions in the fact 
that the former are not complete adaptations or final adjust- 
ments to stimulating circumstances, but rather their function 
is to condition the specific operation of another succeeding 
or consummatory reaction. Thus my perception, that is, the 
appreciation of the presence or the identity of the book that 
lies before me on the table, is a precurrent or anticipatory 
response conditioning the further act of picking up the book 
or allowing it to lie undisturbed. 

1From our standpoint, of course, a psychological theory does not 
lose its parallelistic character even though the adherent thereof rejects 
one or the other series of supposedly parallel phenomena. 

2 That is to say, the complete operation of a reaction system. 



Let it be at once noted that a meaning-reaction differs from 
any other kind of psychological response only in the fact that 
it serves to condition a succeeding act. Otherwise, it may 
comprise the same number and kind of factors, such as cor- 
tical centers, neural pathways, affective components, etc. In 
other words, meaning-reactions differ from other reactions 
only in function. In consequence, they represent the acquisi- 
tion of various combinations of reactions, such that when the 
stimulus calls out one of them, it will be a means of bringing 
the other or others into operation. In other words, meaning- 
reactions consist of specific integrations of precurrent and 
consummatory responses, the former of which are already 
linked with specific stimulating objects or conditions. Thus, 
when the signal light flashes into the visual field of the loco- 
motive engineer, the perceptual response is coupled with a 
series of other responses which result in the stopping of the 
locomotive. From this stand-point the meaning-reaction de- 
rives its name from the fact that it serves as a definite means 
for the functioning of some given reaction, picking up the 
book or pulling back the locomotive lever. 

Since the unit of behavior or psychological reaction is the 
segment of behavior, or the response to a stimulus, we can, 
by referring to such a segment of behavior, indicate more pre- 
cisely how the meaning-reaction operates. In detail, this 
operation is as follows. The stimulus-object brings into func- 
tion a definite reaction-system which has been developed in 
direct contact with the object in question.* When so devel- 
oped, this reaction-system operates as an evaluatory response 
in the sense that it serves to mediate an appropriate final 
adaptation to our illustrative object. The point here is that, 
when we develop a differential reaction to an object in a given 
setting, we have appraised and evaluated the object from the 
standpoint of our behavior toward it.6 This point is illus- 
trated by the fact that all but the most abstruse definitions of 
things are stateable in terms of how we react to things. A 
table is “ to put something on,” as the child describes it. These 
evaluatory responses are developed, of course, with reference 

3 By a reaction-system we mean the series of factors; sensitivity to 
stimulus, receptor and effector mechanisms, neural activity, muscular 
and glandular functioning, etc., which make up part of a psychological 

#A segment of behavior consists of a stimulus and the series of 
reaction-systems (when there is a series) that is the pattern of response, 
which constitutes an adjustment to the stimulus. 

5 This development takes place irrespective entirely of whether the 
person knows it is taking place. 


not only to objects but also to the specific qualities and rela- 
tions of objects, as well as to events and conditions of every 

When a quality of an object is evaluated, we must observe 
that in many cases the person’s reaction may be much more 
passive, or we might say the object is evaluated more on the 
basis of what it does to the person than upon what the person 
does to the object. In such cases the evaluations of things 
and their qualities go back to a non-observable condition or 
action in the organism, possibly an electro-chemical change, 
which we refer to as the differential sensitivity of the organ- 
ism to color, taste, temperature, etc. Although, such activi- 
ties of the organism are hidden from the view of the observer, 
whether it be the reacting person or some other, they are none 
the less definite acts, precisely as are the digestive acts, the oc- 
currence of which is unseen and may even be unknown to the 
food-consuming person. It is possibly not an imprudent sug- 
gestion that, while the substantive meanings of simple percep- 
tual objects are derived from active operations upon such ob- 
jects, the adjectival meanings, on the other hand, are derived 
from the more subtle and for the most part unobservable reac- 
tions which we call sensitivity. In passing we might suggest 
that our term sensitivity is used in the sense that the physicist 
uses the term when speaking of the deflective actions of a 
galvanometer. Obviously, whenever any meaning-reaction is 
named or brought to the notice of oneself or others, a posi- 
tive observable reaction is being performed. 

Impossible it is to omit in a discussion of meaning-responses 
the specific reactional auspices under which the meaning-acts 
are performed, since the stimulating circumstances are not 
by far the least important of the conditions for the origin and 
operation of meaning-responses. This means to say that the 
meaning or significance of an adjustment is entirely a function 
of its appropriateness in any given circumstance. In other 
words, meaning-functions symbolize specific forms of inter- 
action between objects and the person’s responses to them. 
The kind, number, and relations of objects to which we react 
force us to develop combinations of responses for adaptational 
purposes. What an object means is intrinsically the problem 
of the particular type of response which the person has de- 
veloped while in contact with it. As a psychological term, 
therefore, meaning refers (1) to the significance which an 
object has for the person as indicated by his reaction to it, 
and (2) to the particular type of reaction which a given 
object brings about in the person. 


From our standpoint there is nothing strange or inscrutable 
about meanings. The fact is that the meaning-reactions which 
appear as such effective adaptational aids to the person are 
merely the anticipatory responses which the various sur- 
rounding stimuli have caused persons to build up or other- 
wise to acquire. A meaning-reaction is accordingly a fitting 
adjustmental response which individuals acquire through the 
direct influence of the surrounding objects and conditions. It 
is in this way that a meaning-reaction becomes the means for 
bringing about an especially fitting adjustment of the person 
to his surroundings. And it is this type of precurrent mean- 
ing-reaction which permits us to say that a person foresees 
the consequences of an act. For it is precisely such meaning- 
reactions as we have described which make it possible for us 
to have any delayed reactions. We might even go a step 
further and say that it is the development and operation of 
these anticipatory meaning-reactions which are celebrated by 
the term consciousness. We may repeat, then, that a meaning 
is a psychological action, in no sense distinct from the many 
other definite responses which we are hourly performing. In 
other words, a psychological meaning is not anything mental 
or psychic, nor is it merely a peculiar muscular or glandular 
reaction paralleling a mental state, but rafher a meaning- 

reaction is amy reaction of the person which stands for or 
signifies a thing or condition by causing a particular response 
to it. But of course meaning-responses differ from each other 
and from other members of a segment of behavior in precisely 
the same way as any two human reactions may differ. 


Up to this point, namely, as long as we are discussing direct 
responses to present stimuli, everything seems clear and defi- 
nite enough. But uncertainties appear at once when we con- 
sider the behavior in which the objects to which we adjust 
ourselves are not immediately present. How, we might ask, 
can we interpret the meanings and intentions concerning per- 
sons, things or other stimuli which are not at the moment 
within range of our actions? Here we have the problem of 
the detached meaning-reactions which are usually referred to 
as thought and imagery. To the objective psychologist it 

* Regardless, of course, of whether the person knows what is taking 
place. In order that the reacting person should also know what is 
going on, he must not only be determined, because of some precurrent 
reaction, to perform a definite final adjustment, but in addition he 
must be able to report to himself verbally or otherwise that such an 

event has taken place. 


seems an extreme error to overlook the unquestioned con- 
tinuity between what may be called the perceptual and non- 
perceptual meaning-reactions. Imagery, or non-perceptual, 
meaning-reactions are no less definite responses of the person 
than are the meaning-reactions contained in segments of be- 
havior in which the original object is present. 

As a matter of fact, every genuine perceptual response 
already involves a partially detached or implicit reaction, in 
the sense that the specific perceptual phase of the segment 
of behavior is a revival of a differential response to qualities 
and conditions of objects not at the moment in actual con- 
tact with the organism.’ The main point here is that a dif- 
ferential reaction system or pattern of response which was 
acquired in the original contact with the object in question 
is upon a second or later contact with the same object put into 
operation in the same way or in a slightly modified form.® 
When the object which originally caused the reaction to be 
built up is absent, the differential reaction system can still 
be put into action by a substitution object. In this case, of 
course, the reaction system will be an implicit or an incipient 
operation. The response will occur only in part or in some 
lesser degree. There is no reason to suppose, however, that 
such an implicit response to an object not present, does not 
involve the same neural, receptor, and effector apparatus. 

Furthermore, since all implicitly operating reaction systems, 
no matter how closely they resemble the original act, are 
substitutive reactions we are not surprised that it is possible 
for them to become symbolic. That an implicit reaction system 
determining a succeeding response can be very unlike the 
overt act which would ordinarily stimulate the succeeding 
response, or entirely different from the overt response which 
a given object elicits, is traceable directly to the fact that every 
implicit reaction is already in some sense a representative 
activity. Whenever we respond to an object not present, be 
it in a dream, revery, thinking, or planning of whatever 
sort, then we are symbolizing or representing the object or 
situation constituting the original stimulus to our behavior. 
Now although there is no limit to the degree with which the 
implicit response varies from the original reaction to the same 
object, still there are definite determining conditions which 
make for the specific symbolization of objects by particular 

7Cf. Kantor, Suggestions Toward a Scientific Interpretation of 
Perception, Psychol. Rev., 27, 191 ff. 

8 Such modification depends upon the setting, or the total stimulat- 
ing situation. 


reaction systems. These determining conditions are for the 
most part contained in the original environmental setting of 
the object which is being reacted to. Just why my implicit 
reactions to the city of Washington should invariably involve 
a symbol of fatigue is no doubt explained by the fact that 
my first contact with that city included an ennervating round 
of continuous sightseeing. As every one knows the implicit 
reaction systems of thinking processes appear in most cases 
as entirely unlike anything that we should expect to be con- 
nected with the original stimulating situation. No further 
illustration of the peculiarities of symbolized implicit behavior 
is necessary than a reference to the facts of individual imagery 

Although it may not at all reinforce our conviction that an 
implicit meaning-reaction is a detached response to an object, 
it is well to observe just how a reaction system or response 
pattern can be detached from a situation in which it was first 
acquired. We have here really two problems. Not only must 
we account for the detaching of reaction systems, but we 
must also describe the mechanism by which such detached 
reaction systems are put into operation by some substitute for 
the original stimulating circumstance. Naturally enough these 
are reciprocal problems and the solutions are closely inter- 

In general, the possibility of detaching reactions from their 
original settings goes back to the elementary fact that human 
persons are from the psychological standpoint organizations 
of response systems. A psychological fact consists of the 
operation of one of these reaction systems resulting in the 
adjustment of the person to an object or condition. Of the 
most elementary of these adjustments are the connate reflexes 
and the sensitivity to colors, sounds, etc. By contact with 
objects these primitive responses may become integrated into 
more complex adjustments to objects or into reaction pat- 
terns; so that the person will respond not only to color and 
shape, but also to the complex objects as a whole. Nor does 
the reaction to objects define the limit to human reactions. 
Suffice it to suggest that the next hypothetical step is the 
organization of the reaction to include the setting of the 
object. Mark well our point, namely, that the whole of the 
individual, psychologically speaking, is an enormously ex- 
panded series of such potential responses. 

Now it so happens that such reactions are sometimes called 
out when the original objects responsible for their existence 
are absent. That this operation of the reaction system can 


occur without the instrumentality of the original stimulus is 
accounted for by the existence of some common factor in the 
present and past situation. And so the infant may proceed to 
suck any object, although it may only very remotely resemble 
a nipple. In more complex situations the common element 
responsible for a given reaction may be the setting of the 
stimulus, and not any quality of it. Illustrative of the latter 
situation are the mistaken reactions resulting when we respond 
to a stranger in a way in which we have accustomed ourselves 
to react to a friend, who usually is found in the place which 
the stranger now occupies. 

Again, a person is stimulated by wants, organic necessities, 
and desires, to reinstate some reaction system previously built 
up under entirely other auspices. A hunger reaction may 
stimulate us to reach for and perform other incipient reactions 
to food-objects, although no food-objects are to be found in 
the vicinity. To a certain extent, also, we might consider that 
the process of detaching reactions from the original stimu- 
lating circumstances in which they occur is merely a process 
of continuing an action once the original stimulus for it has 
passed. As an example we might refer to the tense organic 
strain and reverberation of the person who virtually is unable 
to stop running or rowing for some time after the actual 
contest is over. 

We may conclude, then, that the different mechanisms for 
detaching reactions from their original settings involve in 
some sense a rearousal or a functional continuance of a re- 
action system. When the rearousal occurs we may trace the 
stimulus back (1) to some object or condition other than, 
but previously connected with, the original stimulus object, 
or (2) to some present reaction of the person serving as a 
stimulus to such reoperation of a reaction system. No matter 
how the rearousal takes place, the detached reaction may 
become a means and a determiner of the operation of an asso- 
ciated succeeding response. What this associated response is 
depends upon the specific experiences of the person. Plainly, 
it is extremely important for the process of detaching re- 
actions from their original stimuli-response situations that 
there be some similarity and resemblance between the vari- 
ous objects and situations concerned; so that they can sub- 
stitute for each other as stimuli. 


Thus our discussion brings us up squarely against the prob- 
lem of the image, since it is pretty clear that imagery reactions 
are detached vestiges of sometime overt reactions to con- 


crete objects. Imagery responses, therefore, must be consid- 
ered as one of the types of the individual’s reactions, along 
with overt responses and others which determine the imme- 
diately succeeding reactions to things. What the proposed 
hypothesis demands of us to believe is that every psycholog- 
ical process is a specific operation of the person to given 
objects or situations. To accept this theory means to believe 
that any perceptual activity is a particularized action, per- 
formed when stimulated by any given object with all its quali- 
ties, as it comes into direct contact with the person. That is 
to say, the theory demands that we do not assume that the 
qualities of things or the things themselves exist as central 
material, or in consciousness, as the textbooks put it. Lest 
there be any question as to our meaning at this stage of our 
discussion, we reiterate that, in every case of psychological 
reaction, perceptual responses by no means excepted, the 
person reacts to a thing in which inhere all of its qualities. 
Hence we are not obliged in the case of imagery reactions 
to account for central qualities. The difference between per- 
ceiving and imagining a book lies in the fact that in perceiving 
it we react to it with its qualities, while, when we imagine a 
book, we must supply the qualities and relations of things, 
at least when the imagery is vivid, by means of verbal or lan- 
guage substitutions. This fact accounts for the usually greater 
vividness of the perceptual reactions. And here we might 
suggest that the traditional difficulties with imagery reactions 
are born of the prejudice that the image which is presumed 
to be the carrier of non-perceptual meanings is a peculiar 
central process absolutely independent of receptor systems and 
muscular mechanisms, in addition to being otherwise related 
than are sensory processes to cortical centers. From our 
standpoint an image response is a reaction system, in prin- 
ciple precisely like any other, involving exactly the same 
factors, but differing from other reaction systems in that the 
former are in some manner distantly removed from the 
primary stimulus-response situation in which they originally 

And what precisely is an image? Why simply this, a 
vividly repeated reaction system or pattern of response to 
some specific situation, plus the speech reactions descriptive 
of the objects and events reacted to. In many cases the 
nature of the image depends upon its verbal purveyance, in 
the sense that the reported qualities of imaged things are 
supplied by the person himself. This fact is clearly demon- 
strated when we attempt to imagine an object which we have 


looked at some time ago or perhaps have never actually seen. 
The infidelity of testimony illuminates the possibilities in 
the way of adding materials to past objects and events. To 
be entirely specific at this point, we must indicate that much 
of the image experience is really a verbal self-analysis of 
how we respond to an absent object. Thus, contrary to popu- 
lar conception, the most intense imagery reactions are those 
in which the person repeats verbally the scene he has just 
witnessed or has otherwise partaken of. Consider the young 
lawyer just returned from his first important legal argument, 
or the lover rehearsing before himself as auditor the scene 
just preceding the capitulation of the most adored one. The 
amount and intensity of the imagery depends upon the im- 
pressiveness and the intensity of the original situation. 

Although much of the image reaction is verbally supplied 
and verbally stimulated, yet the basic fact in any imagery 
experience is the actual responsiveness and organic functioning 
which is involved in the implicit repetition of a person’s activ- 
ity. Anyone attempting to recall what happens when deeply 
suffering from the pangs of remorse, or writhing under the 
lash of insult or the sting of disappointing dejection, will 
have no trouble in appreciating the definite activity of the 
person. Impossible it is to overlook the shuddering of the 
entire person, the palpitation of the heart, the activity of the 
salivary, lachrymal and other glandular processes which take 
place, when we remember or think about some distressing or 
very pleasant experience. Above all, we must bear in mind 
always that we are attempting to describe the behavior of a 
tense superactive organism, and not the products of a cold 
logical analysis. What happens when any of our imagery 
experiences become blunted, as is practically always the case 
with the passing of time, is that the pulsation and quavering 
of the organism have subsided. 

From the fact that the core of imagery reactions is a 
definite liberation of the person it follows that by far the 
most vivid imagery is that in which the individual is himself 
living over a profoundly impressive experience. So vivid at 
times is such imagery that one may appear to be in a certain 
place and actually to speak and otherwise react to persons, 
when as a matter of fact one is at great distance from both 
the person and the place which are now being implicitly re- 
acted to. Moreover, an implicit reaction to a past experience 
may involve almost as much actual expenditure of energy 
as an overt adjustment to a less intense situation. Less 
vivid, naturally, are the imagery responses which constitute 


implicit reactions to conditions with which one is not persort- 
ally concerned. In general the energy with which our implicit 
reactions operate depends upon our capacity to relive the 
original situation. And so the warmth with which one sym- 
pathizes with another person who suffers some tragic experi- 
ence is dependent upon the fact whether the sympathizer has 
himself played a part in a similar event, and is consequently 
able to relive it, to image it better. Here we find the psycho- 
logical basis for the emphasis which the employer places 
upon experience as a qualification for employment. It is 
this, that having previously made reactions to a type of situa- 
tion, one is now better equipped to react implicitly to the 
same or a similar situation and thus be more resourceful in 
the present circumstances.° 

Because the implicit meaning-reactions are so easily per- 
formed and occur so much more readily and quickly than the 
explicit type of response, and moreover because the former 
are so subtle and representative, they serve as the most capable 
and efficient of meaning-reactions. Indeed, even though the 
older psychologists did not fully recognize the character of 
imagery, they hit upon images as the exclusive type of mean- 
ing-responses. Not even the mistake of making images the 
only type of meaning-reactions can rob those psychologists of 
the credit for their insight into the character of imagery re- 
actions. Just how efficient these implicit reactions are may 
be gathered from the consideration of a thought or a planning 
segment of behavior, in which the compelling stimulating cir- 
cumstances induce a very intricate interplay of implicit re- 
actions, serving on the whole as backward references to events 
in the life of the person important to him in the particular 
circumstances, besides enabling him to anticipate future pos- 
sibilities of action. Of course in any serious problematic 
situation the person will combine such implicit responses as 
we have attempted to describe, with explicit handling of maps, 
statistical tables, drawings, slide rule, books, and other such 
instruments of complex human behavior. The explicit acts 
serve as stimuli to actions as well as being themselves adap- 
tive responses. We hasten to add that, by considering the 
actual complex of implicit and overt reactions constituting 
a planning behavior, we gain insight into the actual con- 
tinuity of such actions throughout all their variations. 

®We can no better illustrate the repetitive nature of an implicit 
reaction than by pointing out the necessity of repeating reactions in 
order to recall or understand them, or to reproduce facial expressions 
in order to appreciate their significance or to name them. 



If our hypothesis concerning the nature of meaning-re- 
actions is valid, it follows as a matter of course that the 
implicit meanings cover a wide range of precurrent responses. 
Now as a matter of fact, all of these responses may be roughly 
grouped between two limiting classes, which we will name 
representative and substitutive. By a representative meaning- 
reaction we understand a reaction system similar to one per- 
formed upon a previous occasion and now serving as a de- 
terminer of a succeeding reaction. Thus the representative 
meaning-reaction is a direct vestige of a previous reaction 
situation, and consequently is morphologically a fairly overt 
response, in the sense that it incipiently repeats a former 
response. Such representative reaction systems, therefore, 
stand upon the borderline between the overt and implicit 
reactions. We may consider as examples of the representa- 
tive meaning-reactions all of the imagery responses that we 
have discussed; remembering, however, that other represen- 
tative meaning-reactions involve the elaborate movement of 
external skeletal muscles. 

At the opposite pole from these representative reactions 
stand the substitutive responses, which, though functioning as 
determiners of reactions, are themselves morphologically com- 
pletely at variance with the overt act producing the same 
result. These substitutive responses, while of course definite 
acts of the person, do not in any sense resemble the reactions 
to the objects for which they substitute; they may be totally 
symbolic ; and so difficult is it to seize hold of such meaning- 
responses that their operation in many cases is frankly in- 
ferred. The fact is that the symbolic reaction may involve 
such an act on the part of the person as he himself has no 
notion of. In the literature of psychology the substitutive or 
symbolic reactions are denominated concepts or thoughts. So 
distantly removed are the substitutive responses from the 
original conditions to which the person is adjusting himself, 
that the stimulus to thought action is a total situation or 
problem. Now, the detailed facts of the stimulating situa- 
tion are supplied to the person by drawings, writings, or 
verbal stimuli. The general problem, however, may be looked 
upon as the directing and controlling stimulus. 

Between the fully representative and the substitutive re- 
actions we find interpolated the language responses which 
constitute a most efficient form of meaning-reaction. The 
marvellous effectiveness of the verbal reactions to determine 
behavior lies in the fact that they are not only completely 


overt morphologically, but they represent the most facile of 
all our performed actions and at the same time they are 
capable of infinite modification. In consequence, verbal re- 
sponses are among the most satisfactory substitutes for all 
sorts of objects and acts. Finally, the language reactions 
constitute so pervasive a form of human activity, that they 
connect with and bring to the surface the deep seated con- 
ceptual responses. Thus, the conceptual responses, for ex- 
ample, are most serviceable for reactional purposes when they 
are associated with language acts. This fact is evident when 
we consider that ideas are simple concepts which, because of 
their attachment to verbal reactions, serve to induce responses 
in oneself and others. 


Before proceeding to a brief description of the conceptual 
reaction we might raise the question how the implicit reaction, 
which resembles in no way the original object or the original 
reaction, can be said to be a reaction to that object at all. The 
answer to this question is found in the consideration of the 
manner in which the reaction operates. The substitute re- 
actions operate as precurrent or anticipatory responses to 
some other final reaction, and this is exactly why they are 
meaning-reactions. As we have already indicated, the entire 
significance of a meaning-reaction lies in the fact of its opera- 
tion as a determiner of a succeeding final response to a given 
stimulating object or condition. Whether a given reaction 
system is a response to a particular stimulus depends entirely 
upon its functional connection with that stimulus. 

Concepts are reaction systems which operate when it is 
necessary for us to make immediate use of large segments 
of our past experienecs in rapid and effective ways. The 
mechanism for this activity is as follows. Some problem 
presents itself to us, the construction of a bridge, let us 
say. It is necessary for us to correlate this problem imme- 
diately with other problems of a similar sort, in order to make 
plans for the new structure or to draw up an estimate of cost. 
In terms of the old work, old conditions of all sorts, we must 
project and create the new object or coridition. For this 
purpose we have a stock of concepts or ideas representing 
our past experience of a particular sort, which now condi- 
tions the actions of making plans, submitting estimates, and 
directing the actual bridge construction. 

The concept is therefore a vestigial remnant from a pre- 
vious situation or rather a series of situations; for a concept 


is a standardized and definite implicit response which sub- 
stitutes for and sums up the person’s experiences in a form 
useful for present purposes. Plainly, the capacity to develop 
concepts depends upon verbal aids, since only through such 
symbolic means can we build up such meaning-functions as 
concepts are. Not only are language functions necessary for 
the development of concepts or standardized meaning-reactions, 
but the use of them depends very closely upon word responses. 
It is through words (spoken, written or printed) that con- 
cepts are primarily stimulated to action. Hence we may look 
upon a treatise as an extension of the person’s implicit re- 
actions to things. By means of a treatise we are enabled 
to sum up and record the significant facts of our past ex- 

Incidentally, there is brought to our attention the distinction 
between different types of concepts, namely, those standard 
implicit reactions summing up our own experience, and those 
concepts which are derived from our indirect contact with 
things, from our reading and hearing of bridges built, for 
instance. Obviously, the largest number, by far, of our more 
important concepts are derived in the indirect way, although 
it is an essential factor in the development of a concept that 
the person must have had some personal experience with the 
fact or conditions represented. The degree to which we are 
unable to grasp a concept or have one communicated to us 
is a direct function of our lack of experience with the facts 
and conditions represented. When we have had no actual 
contact with a certain object or condition we can have no 
concept of it, and therefore we can only have verbal substi- 
tutes. Every teacher, it is almost safe to say, has met with 
persons who function as students entirely on the verbal level, 
or almost so. 

In considering the differences between a scientific concept 
and one developed in everyday life we cannot overlook the 
deliberate operations which the scientist performs upon the 
materials with which he deals. We might look upon this 
deliberative activity as in part a direct manipulation of mate- 
rials and apparatus and in part an implicit handling of these 
materials with direct reference to previous experiences of the 
same sort. All of this activity is performed with the constant 
aid, and by means of, communicative language activity, both 
stimulative and responsive. 

The distinction between scientific and everyday concepts 
marks a difference in the levels of our behavior. These levels 
may be arranged in series from the mere implicit contact of 


the person with things to a thorough understanding and mani- 
pulation of objects for certain definitely appreciated purposes. 
The actual basis for the distributive arrangement of the 
levels of behavior lies in the intimacy of the contacts of the 
person with the objects and conditions to which he is adapt- 
ing himself. Clearly, the intimacy with which one is in con- 
tact with surrounding things is not in direct correlation with 
the overtness of the response. For obviously we may produce 
more important effects upon things by the indirect responses 
of thinking than by most direct contacts of a perceptual sort. 
Now in point of fact, the scientific concepts operate in a more 
remote way upon objects than do the everyday concepts. As 
we have previously suggested, we may consider scientific 
concepts to be reactions operating upon a level of deliber- 
ated and motivated action and therefore very different in 
degree from everyday concepts. From the fact that scien- 
tific concepts are practically identical with ideas, we may 
infer that the difference in degree between concepts parallels 
such crystallization of reactions as to make them available as 
stimuli to actions. 

In a sense, a conceptual act is a self-stimulating reaction 
to further implicit behavior, so that a thinking activity which 
is essentially a manipulation of concepts is a continuous 
activity of the person with respect to some object or con- 
dition. When the conceptual reaction becomes so standard- 
ized and identified with a term or name that it may serve as a 
common stimulus to various persons, then we may call it an 
idea. The intimate connection between the concept and the 
communicative language form makes the concept a definite 
object of scientific technique, much as a piece of apparatus 
is. Absolutely essential is it for the functioning of ideas that 
they be embodied in language forms (names, etc.) and it is 
true, as a matter of fact, that such ideas are indistinguish- 
able from the expressive language which serves as their 
medium of circulation. Thus language appears as an indis- 
pensable tool for both the operation and the expression of 


The development and functioning of language responses in- 
dicate most excellently the facts of meaning-reactions. For 
language is essentially a determiner of action, whether in the 
vocalizing person or in some other. In the fact that action 
is determined in others we find a basis of division of lan- 
guage mechanisms into mere vocalization and communicative 


speech. The latter type of meaning-reactions are not, how- 
ever, confined to communication with others, for obviously 
one may also communicate with oneself. The differentiation 
between verbalization and true language activity, or between 
mere speech and communication, involves a difference in the 
total behavior of the person at the time. Essentially the total 
situation includes not only the responses of the person but 
the stimulating circumstances also. As to the latter, they must 
be such as to interest or challenge the reacting person, inter- 
est him in the form of satisfying his wants, as the mother or 
nurse functions to the desiring child. Or the stimulus may 
arouse or awake the person to a response which will in turn 
induce in the stimulator another response. Here we have of 
course ordinary conversation. As contrasted with mere 
verbal utterance as a determiner of behavior, communica- 
tive speech involves a definite attention set and an attitude 
of serious expectancy which puts the person in close rapport 
with the stimulating person. 

All language in the sense of action determiner or verbal 
stimulus goes back of course to the articulate function of 
human beings, and we might assume that speaking or the use 
of words, both as mechanism and as psychological acts, de- 
rives directly from crying through the path of vocalization. 
All the observable facts of human language are constituted 
by the processes in which the crying mechanism and action 
develop to the stage of definite communication. 

Much light may be obtained concerning the development 
and use of language from a study of the reactions of infancy. 
The growth of language may begin as a mere manifestation 
of a need. That is to say, the observer notes the infant act- 
ing in a particular way when he is apparently stimulated by 
some exteroceptive or interoceptive stimulus. This reaction 
may appear to the observer as a stretching out of the hand or 
acry. As it happens, the reaching or crying occurs when the 
infant is stimulated by objects he cannot reach or otherwise 
adequately make responses to. The reaching or crying is, 
then, a gesture or stimulus to the mother or nurse to complete 
the necéssary reaction, and in this manner the reaching or 
crying of the child becomes a means of finally attaining some 
result. For a long time the child’s activity has no significance 
to him in the sense that he has no manner of appreciation of 
its operation. At this stage the action of the child is a bare 
meaning-act or a means to some other reaction, playing with 
the ball or drinking the milk.*° Because of the particular situ- 

10 We ignore absolutely any standpoint of an observer. 


ation this reaction of the child to be sure is pregnant with 
potentiality to develop into genuine language. 

Another stage in the development of language involves the 
appreciation by the child of the stimulating character of his 
reaction. This appreciation arises from the observation of the 
close connection between his own beginning and final re- 
action, and that of the mother. since the latter’s action is a 
necessary part of the total situation. In many cases this appre- 
ciation may merely amount to the fact that the mother has 
trained the child to substitute a true stimulus word (name) 
for the original crying or reaching stimulus.’ Since the de- 
velopment that we are describing consists mainly in the child’s 
learning that his act is a stimulus, the use of a name is not an 
essential part of the development. Any sort of gesture will 
do. The entire criterion for the description of the develop- 
mental stages in the language reactions lies naturally in the 
specific ways in which the person is in contact with his sur- 

Distinctive as a stage in the development of language re- 
actions is the performance of verbal actions as _ stimuli- 
determiners of the actions of others. We have already seen 
that this stimulating act may be merely the expression of a 
need which is satisfied through the act of another. Later, this 
stimulus is uttered as a deliberate means of achieving some 
definite end. Obviously, the best means of accomplishing such 
purposes is by the use of connected speech-stimuli. “ Get- 
me-this ” may be considered as a typical illustration of such 
a connected speech determiner of action. And it is very 
important to observe that we have attained here a stage be- 
yond the mere use of name words. In fact we may think of 
this communicative-stimulus or deliberate, transmissive re- 
action as a phrasing or speech-expressing reaction which trans- 
plants simpler need and want reactions. These connected 
speech reactions are definitely made to exhibit or express a 
need, desire, or some other condition of the person, or an 
implicit response of quite another sort. Such language re- 
actions essentially involve segments of behavior including re- 
action systems of at least two individuals, either as stimuli or 

In this stage of language development words or their equiv- 
alents are not mere substitutes for objects or acts but are 
definite stimuli for one’s own reactions or the responses of 
others. A clear example of communicating with oneself is the 
use of language in the formulation of plans or the application 

11 That is, stimulus for the mother. 


of pencil marks upon paper during the solution of a mathe- 
matical problem. 

By far the most elaborate use of communicative language 
reactions is found in the informational responses which are 
stimulated to action by another person or his presence. 
Especially is this the case in informational reactions in which 
one person apprises another concerning objects or events 
which have long ceased to be actual factors in the surroundings 
of one or both persons. By means of communicative language 
reactions, not only can old events be revived and brought 
again to the surface, but in general one person may inform 
another of comparatively new objects or events by way, of 
course, of stimulating in the other person implicit responses 
representative of similar conditions. 

In general, we might look upon language reactions as instru- 
ment reactions ; they enable the person to extend his activities 
and to reach across all sorts of barriers. The use of language 
reactions puts the human individual upon a definite and 
characteristic level of action. As instrument reactions, 
language represents one of the highest developments of the 
meaning-responses. Not only is language a determiner of 
overt and implicit reactions of all sorts, but it also serves at 
the same time as a complex means of developing newer and 
more capable reactions. We have already suggested that the 
great efficiency of language acts lies in their capacity to in- 
tegrate with other reactions and thus form a part of all 
planning, thinking, and choosing. To a considerable extent 
language responses constitute the primary factors in the higher 
types of delayed reactions. We might add in passing that it 
is the capacity of verbal responses to integrate readily with 
other reactions, and not any mysterious power, which makes 
of language such a distinctly human form of behavior. 

To obviate any misunderstanding, let us state at once that 
our remarks concerning language do not apply to printed 
words or signs, nor perhaps to written words. Since, obvi- 
ously, printed words or sentences, not being reactions at all, 
cannot be meaning-responses. They are stimuli pure and 
simple, although the act of producing written words may be 
considered to be a meaning-reaction of a highly sublimated 
sort. In this connection it is well to note that there are distinct 
levels of action, and that a distinct difference exists between 
the spontaneous meaning-responses of a personal sort and the 
deliberative institutional acts constituting the publication of a 
theory by a scientist or the formulation of a law by a legis- 
lature. The latter acts are means to some other acts, of course, 


but since they function much less directly they belong to a 
different level of behavior. Such acts are means to other 
acts through the instrumentality of institutional or common 
stimuli, and are not themselves personal stimuli. Written and 
printed language are common stimuli, and hence are psy- 
chological data in no other sense than is any other type of 
stimulating object. The acts producing these common stim- 
uli are just as indirect means to reaction as are those which 
result in the construction of a house, or driving an automobile 
into the path of traffic. 


We conclude, then, that the problem of meanings in psy- 
chology involves no other factors than those which are dealt 
with and described by the ordinary methods of objective 
science. Not only the simple reactions of the person while 
in direct contact with objects, but also the most complex 
thought and memory responses, are definite integrations of 
responses and stimulating conditions. In other words, the 
most intricate intentional action may well be considered as an 
elaborate organization of the person’s actions under definite 
conditions of stimulation. Incidentally, we observé that mean- 
ing-responses are not limited to thought processes, but are 
parts of reaction patterns including all types of reactions. 
From this list of reactions, habit responses are not excep- 
tions and in fact in every segment of behavior in which 
there are two or more reaction systems, one serves as a pre- 
current determining response for others, and therefore 
answers to our description of a meaning-reaction. 

Since precurrent reactions are both overt and implicit, we 
shall find both types of responses operating as anticipatory 
determiners of action. For these two types of responses 
merely represent the different ways in which the person re- 
sponds to his surrounding stimuli. Our discussion has indi- 
cated that the list of precurrent reactions includes not only 
concepts and images, but also language reactions and other 
more definitely direct operations upon stimulating objects, 
namely, those involving the skeletal musculature. 


By Francis J. O’Brien? 

Matertals Apparatus, Procedure and Observers 
Signifi ificant materials 
Non-significant materials 
Ideational equipment of observers 

Summary of introspections 
The process of learning 
Objective data 

Summary and Conclusions 


The relation of the mode of presentation of a material to 
the process of learning it has been approached experimentally 
from various points of view. Most investigators have sought, 
with a pedagogical interest, simply to determine the mode of 
presentation most advantageous in learning; a few have con- 
cerned themselves chiefly with the psychological aspects of 
the problem and undertaken to determine the qualitative 
changes in the complete mental process that arise when the 
material to be learned is presented to different senses. Our 
present problem is psychological in this latter sense. In most 
studies investigators have been content to deal merely with 
the quantitative aspects of learning and recall, supplementing 
such data only occasionally by introspections. They have 
made the analysis of the learning-process almost entirely with 
reference to the mode of presentation of the material—whether 
it is visually or auditorially presented, or reinforced by voci- 
motor repetition, for example—and little with respect to the 
actual sensory terms with which the learner represents the 
material to himself. For this latter information, as well as 
for a complete understanding of the problem, an introspective 
study is essential. 

1From the Psychological Laboratory of Clark University. This 
work was performed under the direction of Professor J. W. Baird. 


250 O'BRIEN 

Miinsterberg and Bigham? published the pioneer investigation in this 
field in 1894. They presented digits and colors to their observers in 
visual, in auditory, and in combined visual-auditory fashion, and 
tested the learning immediately by a method of reconstruction. They 
concluded that visual memory is superior to auditory and that material 
presented to both these senses at the same time is more easily repro- 
duced than material presented only to the one or the other. 

Cohn’ took especial account of the motor factor in learning. Using 
lists of consonants as material, he compared learning with emphasis 
upon the vocimotor processes with learning with vocimotor processes 
inhibited. He sought to secure this inhibition by having the O press 
his tongue against the roof of his mouth, count “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3,” etc., 
count backwards, or count by 2’s or 3’s. He concluded that learning 
was better when there was no attempt to interfere with vocimotor 
processes. It is possible, however, that his results were due to the 
distraction of attention by the inhibiting task. 

Quantz,‘ in a study of the psychology of reading, performed memory 
experiments with visual-vocimotor, auditory, and visual-auditory-voci- 
motor modes of presentation. He concluded that lip movement is a 
serious hindrance to the speed of reading and that a combination of 
the visual and auditory modes of presentation has little advantage 
for recall over either mode of presentatoin separately. 

Lay® studied the mode of presentation most effective in learning 
spelling, and demonstrated that visual presentation is much more 
effective than auditory and that the introduction of motor imagery 
is of considerable assistance in the learning processes. Fuchs and 
Haggenmiller® and Itschner? repeated Lay’s experiments with certain 
variations and in general substantiated his findings. 

Smedley® investigated the memory span of children for five different 
modes of presentation. He found that he obtained the greatest span 
with the visual-auditory-vocimotor mode, and that his other modes 
could not be completely realized because his subjects were unable en- 
tirely to repress their vocimotor processes. 

Finzi® worked upon observational noting and retention as condi- 
tioned upon presentative modes. He worked without consideration 
of the imaginal types of his O’s, but concluded that. vocimotor and 
manumotor imagery are least efficient for retention. Some of his O’s, 

2 Miinsterberg, H., and Bigham, J. Memory. Psychol. Rev., 1, 
1894, 34-38. 

8 Cohn, J. Experimentelle Untersuchungen iiber das Zusammen- 
wirken des akustisch-motorischen und des visuellen Gedachtnisses. 
Zsch. f. Psychol., 15, 1897, 161-183. 

# Quantz, J. O. Problems in the psychology of reading. Psychol. 
Rev. Mon. Sup., 2, No. 1, 1897, 51 pp. 

5 Lay, W. A. Experimentelle Didaktik. 3 ed., 1910, xvi+661 pp. 

® Fuchs, H., and Haggenmiiller, A. Studien und Versuche tiber die 
Erlernung der Orthographie. Sammlung von Abhandlungen aus dem 
Gebtete der pidagogischen Psychologie und Physiologie, II, 1898, 63 pp. 

7Itschner, H. Lay’s Rechtschreib-Reform. H. Jahrbuch d. Vereins 
f. wissenschaft. Pdad., 32, 1900, 206-234. 

8 Smedley, F. W. Report of the department of child study and 
pedagogic investigation. Chicago, No. 3, 1900-01, pp. 

® Finzi, J. Zur Untersuchung der Auffassungsfahigkeit und Merk- 
fahigkeit. Psychol. Arbeit., 3, 1900, 289-384. 


however, remembered best when motor processes were introduced in 
addition to the others in the learning. 

Kemsies,?° in a study of school children, concluded that visual pres- 
entation was more advantageous than auditory for learning German- 
Latin vocabularies. Frankl’ studied the same problem with more 
modes of presentation and concluded that Kemsies’ conclusion holds 
for learners of the visual type but that auditory presentation is more 
efficient for learners of the auditory type. Schuyten,!? on the basis 
of a similar experiment, concluded that ‘pure auditory’ presentation 
is superior to ‘visual plus auditory’ presentation. His ‘pure auditory’ 
presentation was, however, presumably auditory-vocimotor, and his 
experiment was made without reference to the imaginal type of the 
school children. 

A more thorough investigation of this problem is Pohlmann’s.1% 
He worked with six modes of presentation and three intervals of 
recall. His general conclusions are that auditory presentation is 
slightly more advantageous than visual for such familiar material 
as meaningful words, that visual presentation is superior to auditory 
for nonsense syllables, and that retention is not improved by the 
addition of the auditory mode or the vocimotor mode of presentation 
to the visual. 

Segal?* worked with trained O’s and with visual and auditory 
presentation. In both cases he allowed the learner in certain series 
to use the visual-auditory mode with any imaginal supplementation 
that he desired, while in other series he required him to avoid voci- 
motor processes by carrying on simultaneously with the visual or 
auditory presentation some other irrelevant vocimotor process. He 
concluded that the same individual may be said to belong to different 
imaginal types when reproducing different materials, that optimal 
conditions for reproduction consist of the presentation of the material 
in the mode that corresponds to the O’s type, and that, when presen- 
tation is made in a mode different from the O’s type, the O either 
may learn less efficiently using the terms in which presentation is 
made or may immediately transpose the presented material into 
imagery corresponding to his type. The necessity for taking strict 
account of the O’s type under the particular experimental conditions 
and the need for a persistent appeal to introspection become apparent 
in this study. 

Von Sybel*® reinforced Segal’s conclusion by an experiment in- 
volving six presentative modes. He noted especially that the imaginal 
type of the learners had to be considered before the most effective 

10 Kemsies, F. Gedachtnisuntersuchungen an Schulkindern. Zsch. 
f. pad. Psychol., 2, 1900, 21-30; 3, 1901, 171-183. 

11 Frankl, E. Ueber V orstellungs-Elemente und Aufmerksamkeit. 
Ein Beitrag zur experimentellen Psychologie. 1905,*256 pp. 

12 Schuyten, M. C. Experimentelles zum Studium der gebrauch- 
lichsten Methoden im fremdsprachlichen Unterricht. Exper Pad., 
1906, 3, 199-211. 

18 Pohlmann, A. Experimentelle Beitrage zur Lehre vom Gedachtnis. 
1906, 191 pp. 

14 Segal, J. Ueber den Reproduktionstypus und das Reproduzieren 
von Vorstellungen. Arch. f. d. ges. Psychol., 1908, 12, 124-236. 

15 Sybel, A. von. Ueber das Zusammenwirken verschiedener Sinn- 
bei Gedachtnisleistungen. Zsch. f. Psychol., 53, 1909, 257- 

252 O’BRIEN 

mode of learning could be established, and that imaginal type is not 
fixed, but subject to change under different conditions. 

Abbott!* studied the nature of the mental processes involved in 
learning to spell unfamiliar English words. Her work was under- 
taken in order to test the results of Lay, Fuchs and Haggenmiiller, 
and Itschner. She found, under her conditions, that the initial recall 
came typically as visual imagery of the letters of the word no matter 
what the mode of presentation, that the subject would proceed to 
pronounce the word only as soon as a clear visual image was obtained, 
that auditory presentation gave rise, by way of visual imagery, to an 
even more purely visual learning than did visual presentation, and 
that the mode of presentation appears, therefore, to determine the 
imaginal terms of the learning in only a small degree. 

Meumann’s!7 conclusions support the general trend of the fore- 
going experiments: it is more advantageous for a learner to use 
imagery corresponding to his imaginal type than for him to attempt 
the use of imagery in other modalities. Meumann holds that learning 
is dependent more upon the formation of strong associations than 
upon the formation of many associations and that therefore the 
material which is most readily impressed should be used. Frank- 
further and Thiele!* also came to this same conclusion, although they 
noted especially that the addition of other modes to the natural mode 
for the O increased efficiency of learning. For them the best results 
were obtained with visual-auditory-vocimotor learning. 


In the first half of the investiagtion we used significant 
words; in the second half, nonsense-syllables. 

Significant Materials 

This material consisted of four-letter English words,— 
nouns, pronouns, adjectives, verbs and adverbs,—which were 
arranged in 36 lists of 20 words each of approximately equal 
difficulty. The lists were divided into three series, a, b, and 
c, of 12 lists each. 

Twelve modes of presentation were employed and in the 
order given below. The following symbols are used in this 
paper in abbreviation of the names of the modes of presen- 
tation: V=visual, A=auditory, M=vocimotor, m==manu- 

1. Auditory (A). E pronounced the words, one every 3 
sec., to the beat of a metronome. The learner was asked to 
inhibit vocimotor imagery during the learning. 

16 Abbott, E. E. On the analysis of the factor of recall in the 
learning process. Psychol. Mono., 11, 1909, 159-177. 

17 Meumann, E. Vorlesungen zur Einftihrung in die experimentelle 
Padagogik und thre psychologischen Grundlagen, II. 1907, vii+467pp. 

18 Frankfurther, W., and Thiele, R. Ueber den Zusammenhang 
zwischen Vostellungstypus und sensorischer Lernweise. Zsch. f. 
Psychol., 62, 1912, 96-131. 


2. Auditory-vocimotor (AM). The same procedure as in 
the purely auditory presentation (A), except that the learner 
was allowed the use of vocimotor imagery. 

3. Visual (V). The series as they were presented visually 
on an exposure apparatus, one word every 3 sec. The learner 
was asked to inhibit vocimotor imagery. 

4. Viswal-vocimotor-auditory (VAM). The words were 
presented to the learner as in the purely visual presentation 
(V), and as soon as he perceived each word he was required 
to pronounce it aloud, definitely and distinctly. 

5. Auditory-manumotor (Am). The same procedure as in 
the purely auditory presentation (A), except that the learner 
was required in addition to write the words. The learner 
was blindfolded, so that he could not see the word he had 

6. Visual-auditory-manumotor (VAm). The procedure 
here is a combination of the purely visual (V) and the audi- 
tory-manumotor (Am) modes of presentation, except that the 
learner was not blindfolded. (See 7, VMm below.) 

7. Visual-vocimotor-manumotor (VMm). The learner saw 
the word and was permitted to repeat it in vocimotor imagery 
but not aloud; and then wrote it. The O’s hand was under 
a screen, so that he could not see the word that he had written. 

8. Visual-auditory (VA). The learner saw the word, and 
at the same time heard it pronounced by E. He was required 
to inhibit vocimotor imagery in the learning. 

9. Visual-vocimotor (VM). The learner saw the word and 
was allowed to repeat it in vocimotor imagery but not aloud. 

10. Auditory-vocimotor-manumotor (AMm). The proced- 
ure is the same as in the auditory-manumotor mode of pres- 
entation (Am), except that the learner was allowed the use 
of vocimotor imagery. 

11. Visual-manumotor (Vm). The procedure is the same 
as in the visual-vocimotor-manumotor mode of presentation 
(VMm), except that the learner was asked not to employ 
vocimotor imagery in the learning. 

12. Visual-auditory-vocimotor-manumotor (VAMm). The 
learner saw the word as it appeared in the aperture, pronounced 
it aloud definitely and distinctly, and then wrote it; he did not 
perceive visually the word that he had written. 

In the visual presentation the list of words was type- 
written on paper fastened to a revolving drum which pre- 

254 O’BRIEN 

sented one word every 3 sec. A space indicated the end of 
the list. 

In the auditory presentation a 3-sec. interval was allowed 
at the end of the list before repetition of the list. 

A list was re-presented until the O signalled that he had 
learned it. The O would then immediately recall the series 
to E, who would record the recall, the number of presenta- 
tions required for learning, the time required for recall, and 
the number and the nature of the errors made. 

We sought in this investigation both a quantitative deter- 
mination of reproduction after a few seconds and after 24 
hours, and an introspective account of the mental procedure 
in the learning and in both the immediate and delayed recalls. 
Thus we hoped to obtain a clearer insight into the act of 
learning itself, and to clear up some of the differences of 
experimental results that are to be found in the literature. 

Seven graduate students in experimental psychology served 
as O’s. They were all highly trained in introspection. Four 
of them took part in the entire investigation. 

Non-significant Materials 

In the second half of the investigation we used 33 lists of 
nonsense-syllables. Twenty syllables constituted a list. The 
procedure was identical with the procedure of the first part 
with two exceptions. In the first place, the visual-auditory- 
manumotor presentation (VAm) was not employed because 
the learner’s procedure was almost the same as with the visual- 
auditory-vocimotor-manumotor presentation (VAMm). In 
the second place, the O could see the word as he wrote it. 
An apparatus was arranged so that the syllable written by 
the learner was drawn out of sigh’ simultaneously with the 
coming-in of the new syllable. We employed for this pur- 
pose an endless band of paper which passed under an aperture 
cut in the table and was actuated by electrical contacts con- 
trolled by the exposure apparatus, a Marx machine. Thus 
we prevented continued visual stimulation. 

Ideational Equipment of Observers 

Observer P. P was of mixed type, with preference for 
vocimotor imagery, but he was able to use visual imagery 
readily. When vocimotor imagery was prohibited by the in- 
structions, he reported that it was nevertheless present in 
most of the learning process, although under certain condi- 
tions it could be inhibited. His recalls were always in voci- 
motor imagery. 


Observer C. C was of the mixed type, but dominantly 
visual. He used vocimotor-auditory imagery, especially when 
the material was difficult. In anticipating and recalling, he 
relied mostly on visual imagery, both of the printed word and 
in his own handwriting. C also employed a visual schema 
of the list of words frequently in learning and always in 

Observer Fe. Fe was of extreme motor type; in the entire 
investigation he reported only one or two visual images and 
these were subsequent upon vocimotor imagery. In no instance 
was he able to inhibit vocimotor imagery. He always recalled 
the material by means of vocimotor-auditory imagery or by 
vocimotor innervation. Frequently he employed a kinaesthetic 
schema of localization. 

Observer T. T was of the mixed type, but preferred voci- 
motor imagery. He possessed, nevertheless, a good command 
of visual imagery and recalled many words in visual-verbal 
terms. When instructed to inhibit vocimotor imagery, he never 
succeeded; and he always anticipated the material in voci- 
motor terms. In cases of difficulty of recall, he employed 
either a visual or a kinaesthetic schema of localization. All 
the recalls, regardless of the mode of presentation, occurred 
mostly in vocimotor and vocimotor-auditory terms, accom- 
panied often by visual-verbal or visual-concrete imagery or 
meaningful associations. 

Observer Fi. Fi was of the balanced type; she habitually 
employed vocimotor (auditory) imagery alone in learning but 
she sometimes used visual imagery alone, especially under the 
Aufgabe to inhibit vocimotor processes. In these latter cases, 
however, the vocimotor processes were present during the first 
few presentations. She formed many meaningful associations 
during the learning. The syllables were generally recalled 
in vocimotor (auditory) imagery; but visual imagery was 
present in a few of the immediate recalls. She also employed 
a visual schema of localization. One olfactory image was 
reported by Fi, the only such image reported in the inves- 

Observer W. W was of the extreme visual type and in 
learning and recalling he employed a greater amount of visual 
imagery than of any other kind. He used vocimotor and 
vocimotor-auditory imagery to no great extent. Even when 
permitted vocimotor imagery, he employed it only in the first 
few presentations. He also employed a visual schema of 

256 O'BRIEN 

localization. He found it impossible to inhibit vocimotor 
imagery in the first few presentations of a new material. 

Observer S. S was of the mixed type with a slight prefer- 
ence for the vocimotor imagery. He was able to use visual 
imagery in learning, but it appeared only after the vocimotor 
imagery had been present in the first few presentations. In 
spite of the use of several contrivances, he found it impossible 
to inhibit vocimotor imagery under instruction. He employed 
a visual schema of localization. 


Summary of Introspections® 

A survey of our introspections brings to light the following 
points : 

I. Vocimotor imagery can not be inhibited, at least not in 
the first part of the learning. 

P, VA. “ During the presentation I focused attention on your voice, 
adjusting my right ear toward you and holding the auditory stimulus 
as long as possible; I attempted to anticipate, but when I succeeded 
the words always appeared in vocimotor imagery.” 

T, V. “In the fore-period there were sensations of pressing my 
lips together, pressing the tongue against the teeth, kinaesthesis of 
strains in the muscles of the stomach, and general muscular inhibitions 
throughout the whole body. This tense state seemed to be an attempt 
to inhibit vocimotor imagery; but in spite of it all the first presen- 
tation of each syllable was followed by a vocimotor-auditory repeti- 
tion of it.” 

C, A. “In the first part of the learning I found that if I attended 
focally to the perception of each word and then to auditory imagery 
of it afterwards, I could not help having vocimotor imagery of it; 
so in the first 5 presentations at least I had rapid vocimotor imagery 
of each syllable after it was presented.” 

W, VA. “As soon as the first word was presented I found myself 
repeating it in vocimotor imagery, then awareness of the Aufgabe, 
present in visual imagery of you. . . . When the next word was 
presented I found myself repeating it again in vocimotor imagery.” 

Fi, A. “In general I would repeat the syllable and the associated 
word in vocimotor-auditory imagery, and at the same time I was 
keenly aware of tensions about my tongue and throat, tensions which 
would increase at that moment. In some cases the vocimotor image 
was very slight.” 

S, VA. “As soon as you said, Inhibit vocimotor imagery,’ I was 
conscious of a numb feeling in the vocal apparatus. In the first 
presentation I was aware of a vocimotor image of the word as soon 
as I received the visual percept. . . . This vocimotor image after 

19In the following excerpts from the protocols, the letter at the 
beginning of the paragraph indicates the O, and the symbol following 
the mode of presentation: see p. 252. 


the presentation of each word was present, I am certain, during the 
entire first presentation and occurred very many times during the 
second presentation.” 

II. Observers of motor type never wholly succeed in elim- 
inating vocimotor imagery in the learning, even when instructed 
to do so. 

T, Am. “After the presentation of each syllable I had vocimotor 
and auditory repetition of it throughout the whole learning; I pre- 
vented movement of lips and actual throat movement, but I could not 
repress a sensation of movement in the tongue, and auditory imagery 
often accompanied this vocimotor imagery.” 

Fe was never able to inhibit vocimotor imagery; it was present in 
all the learning with all materials. 

III. With O’s of visual type, the words are anticipated in 
vocimotor imagery ; gradually the words appear to conscious- 
ness more and more in visual and less and less in vocimotor 
imagery ; finally the words are anticipated in visual imagery 
only and no vocimotor imagery of the words is present. 

C, V. “In the first part of the learning I was unable to rule out 
vocimotor-auditory imagery; it immediately followed the visual per- 
ception of the word. But as the learning went on the amount of 
vocimotor imagery became less and less. In the last 6 or 7 presen- 
tations there was almost no vocimotor-auditory imagery; the words 
were anticipated almost wholly by means of visual imagery.” 

W, VAm. “Vocimotor imagery appeared very seldom after the 
first 3 or 4 presentations, the anticipation being done mostly in visual 

IV. If O’s of visual type attempt to inhibit vocimotor imag- 
ery, visual imagery in the learning sometimes becomes less 
clear; in the recalls the visual image develops more slowly 
than it does when vocimotor imagery is not interfered with. 

C, A. Delayed Recall. “All the syllables came in visual imagery 
but very slowly and in no definite order. . . . Only 4 or 5 of the 
syllables were definitely localized. Strains in my eyes and conscious- 
ness that the words were coming very slowly.” 

W, AMm. “None of the visual imagery was very clear. Accom- 
panying the learning were great strains and unpleasantness; I could 
not give the words fast because they came in so slowly.” 

W, Am. W gave up his attempt to learn the series after it was 
presented to him 18 times; he said, “I could not learn this series 
because I was unable to visualize the words as this is the medium I 
use in learning.” 

V. In addition to the help obtained from meaningful asso- 
ciations, there is another aid which comes from the vocaliza- 
tion of the words and which we may call a ‘ motor or kinaes- 
thetic help’: on pronouncing the first word the O may find his 
vocal apparatus set to pronounce the following word. 

258 O'BRIEN 

T, VM. Delayed Recall. “The syllables before SEC came in very 
quickly, one after the other, in vocimotor imagery; that is, after pro- 
nouncing one word I would find my vocal apparatus set to pronounce 
the next, and this word was then immediately vocalized. As soon 
as I vocalized VIT I found my vocal apparatus about to pronounce 

C, V. “As soon as I recalled POM I was conscious of eye-move- 
ment downward, and vocimotor and auditory imagery of POM;; before 
I finished vocalizing POM the vocal apparatus was adjusted "for the 
pronunciation of TER, and POM-TER were pronounced very quickly, 
one after the other.” 

Fe, A. Delayed Recall. “The vocal apparatus was set for the 
pronunciation of a hard c-sound. Then I found myself pronouncing 

Fi, VAM. Delayed Recall. “WAB flashed in mechanically in 
vocimotor innervation; after the vocalization of VOQ (which imme- 
diately preceded WAB) my vocal apparatus formed for the vocaliza- 
tion of WAB.” 

S, Am. Delayed Recall. “After vocalizing TALL I was conscious 
of the adjustment of the vocal organs for the itve-sound; this was 
followed by a visual image of FIVE in my own hand-writing.” 

VI. If given the Aufgabe to inhibit vocimotor imagery, the 
O sometimes sets up for himself a new Aufgabe to use imagery 
of another modality. 

P, VA. “T tried to anticipate, but when I did I ‘used vocimotor 
imagery, so I stopped anticipating; then I set up the vocimotor-audi- 
tory Aufgabe to retain the words in visual concrete images.” 

T, VA. “I tried to anticipate, but I found myself using vocimotor 
imagery. . . . I set up the vocimotor and auditory Aufgabe to 
anticipate in visual _imagery but I did not succeed; vocimotor imagery 
always coming in.’ 

C, VA. “There was little tendency to use vocimotor imagery after 
the presentation of each word; I set up the vocimotor-auditory Auf- 
gabe to anticipate in visual imagery; I just sat and looked as the 
words were being presented, attending very little to the auditory 

W, VA. “I then found myself seeking for a way to fulfil the 
Aufgabe [to inhibit vocimotor imagery]; I had a visual image of a 
sheet of paper and myself; then a vocimotor and auditory, ‘Attend 
to the visual image of the words; never mind the vocimotor image.’ ” 

S, A. “I was using vocimotor imagery in learning these words; 
I then set up the vocimotor-auditory Aufgabe to substitute the exhaled 
breath for the vocalization of the word; the vocimotor imagery became 
less, and I had a second Aufgabe to use visual imagery after you 
spoke the word.” 

S, Am. “I set up the vocimotor-auditory Aufgabe to visualize 
the words in my own hand-writing; this I did, but I was not able 
to anticipate in this visual imagery.” 

VII. Any attempt to inhibit vocimotor imagery makes audi- 
tory imagery of the word more clear and intensive. 


T, Vm. “ Following the visual percept of the word there was a 
vocimotor-auditory image of it. The vocimotor image was much less 
intensive than the auditory. The auditory image of the word became 
much more intensive as I was able to:suppress the vocimotor.” 

C, Vm. “Later on in the learning the vocimotor seemed to drop 
out and the auditory image seemed much louder; the vocimotor image 
almost completely dropped out in the last half of the learning.” 

Fi, VA. “I am quite sure that I inhibited vocimotor innervation 
of each word, but there was slight vocimotor imagery and very in- 
tensive auditory imagery.” 

VIII. In a visual-auditory presentation an O seldom attends 
to both the visual and the auditory stimuli; he attends either 
to the visual alone or to the auditory alone. 

P, VAm. “During the presentation of the words I paid the least 
possible attention to your pronouncing . . . concentrating atten- 
tion almost wholly upon the visual perception.” 

C, VA. “During the middle of the series I was not attending to 
your voice at all but to my own anticipatory processes and to my 
retaining, in visual imagery, of the last two words which I had just 
aang visually.” 

Fe, VA. “My attention was directed much more to the auditory 
perception than to the visual perception of the word; in fact, once 
or twice I found that my eyes were actually closed, while I was per- 
ceiving the words in auditory fashion only.’ 

W,VAm. “For 4 or 5 presentations I paid little attention to your 
voice; it was by no means in focal perception for at least 4 or 5 
presentations; I attended mostly to the visual perception.” 

IX. In an auditory presentation all O’s had great difficulty 
in distinguishing syllables containing such letters as d, ¢, q, 
c, k, etc. 

T, Am. “After you pronounced QAZ I wrote it KAZ; the k held 
my attention. Vocimotor-auditory imagery, ‘That must be a q be- 
cause there is a & later.’” 7 had to reason, therefore, as to the 
correct spelling of a syllable; the auditory perception made possible 
at least two spellings. 

C, AMm. “During the first few presentations the auditory per- 
ception was not instantaneous; not definite or clear; that is, not so 
much the clearness of the sound but rather a lack of definiteness of 
the letters pronounced. For example, for one syllable I write it at 
least two ways: BER and BUR.” 

Fe, AMm. “In the first presentation several words presented were 
capable of two interpretations; e.g., BARN-BARM. This caused 

W, A. “TI had great difficulty with the syllables containing either 
the letters c and q, d and b; after perceiving a syllable containing 
such a letter there was confusion as to what the exact spelling was; 
this confusion consisted mostly in a fluctuation of the two possi- 
bilities in visual imagery.” 

Fi, AMm. “Sometimes I had difficulty in perceiving the word defi- 
nitely; I would find my vocal apparatus set to pronounce but for no 

260 O’BRIEN 

definite syllable; this setting of the vocal apparatus only appeared 
when I was not able definitely to perceive a syllable. 

S, AM. “In 3 cases it was very difficult for me to get a distinct 
perception of the words, and I was not able to vocalize them easily; 
there were elements in my auditory perception of your voice in pro- 
nouncing the words which I was unable to reproduce.” 

X. If, in recalling a series which had been presented to the 
O in auditory fashion, auditory imagery is present, it is seldom 
of E’s but usually of O’s voice. 

C,AMm. “The words were recalled in vocimotor-auditory imagery 
of my own voice; then a visual image of each word in my own hand- 

Fe, A. “In the immediate recall I made use, as far as I am aware, 
only of vocimotor-auditory imagery; the auditory imagery was of my 
own voice.” 

W, AMm. Delayed Recall. (What was the nature of your audi- 
tory imagery? Was it of your voice or of my voice, or of any one 
else’s voice?) “The auditory imagery when it appeared was always 
of my voice.” 

Fi, A. “I anticipated every syllable in auditory imagery of my 
own voice, perhaps a little vocimotor, sometimes 2 or 3 ahead of the 
actual presentation.” 

S, VA. Delayed Recall. “I gave the first 3 words from visual 
imagery, but the word SOIL (the second word of the three) was fol- 
lowed by auditory imagery of my own voice.” 

XI. Manumotor imagery does not help either in learning 
or in recalling a list of words or nonsense-syllables. 
P, VAm. (Did any manumotor imagery appear in the learning or 

the recalling of this series?) “I had absolutely no manumotor imagery 
at all.” 

_ T, Am. “The immediate recall of this series was almost wholly 
in vocimotor-auditory imagery, the auditory being of my own voice; 
there were no visual and no manumotor imagery present.” 

C, Am. “I anticipated far ahead of the drum, not attending to 
your pronunciation until I failed to anticipate; there was no con- 
sciousness of any manumotor imagery whatever.” 

Fe, Vm. (Did any manumotor imagery enter into the learning or 
the recall of this series.) “No, none at all.” 

W, VAm. “In anticipating I always set up the Aufgabe to call 
up the words visually; if a visual image of the word failed to appear 
I attended to my arm; but no manumotor image of a syllable ever 

Fi, Vm. Delayed Recall. “There was no consciousness of any 
manumotor imagery; in fact, there was no consciousness that I ever 
wrote the material.” 

S, Am. “Before I wrote a word I was never conscious of either 
a visual or a manumotor image of it.” 

XII. In recalling words between which associations have 
been established in the learning, the imagery of these words 


may appear very quickly, and the association is present only 
inasmuch as the words appear more quickly. 

P, AMm. “The first word of an associated group would appear 
and the remaining words would come more readily with very little 
attention, one after the other.” 

T, AM. “All the syllables came very quickly, one after the other, 
but there was no consciousness of their meaningful connection; there 
seemed to be no meaning attached to the words excepting the fact 
that they came very quickly.” 

C, VA. Delayed Recall. ‘“ There was no visual concrete imagery 
with the word NUNS;; i.c., the visual concrete imagery that appeared 
to consciousness during the learning process; but as a result of the 
association made with NUNS and CAPE, the word CAPE came more 
quickly in auditory imagery after the word NUNS, than was the case 
where two succeeding words in the series were not associated.” 

Fe, Vm. Delayed Recall. “The meanings were present in the 
words with which associations had been formed in the learning, as 
far as I can see, only inasmuch as these words came together.” 

W, VMm. Delayed Recall. “The meaning which was present in 
the learning of the groups was not clearly present, the effect being 
that these words appeared very quickly, one after the other.” 

Fi, VA. Delayed Recall. “After a few presentations the associa- 
tions did not come in with the syllables; the syllables themselves seemed 
to function just as the meaningful words would have done in carrying 

XIII. When associations have been formed with the words 
of the series the following phenomenon often appears in the 
recall: The meaningful association comes first; the actual 
words of the series come later. 

P, Vm. (Did any associations appear in the immediate recall?) 
“Yes. With the words DOTH-KLINK-GLOW the meaningful con- 
tent came first and the words themselves later.” 

T, AM. Delayed Recall. “The feeling of familiarity was present 
with most syllables and the meaningful association came in before 
the nonsense-syllables.” 

C, VM. Delayed Recall. “I set up the vocimotor-auditory Aufgabe, 
‘Try to call up an association and see if the words will come;’ imme- 
diately ‘wigwam’ flashed in in visual imagery, but the ‘wig’ faded 
out of consciousness very quickly and WAM was clear and distinct.” 

W, Vm. Delayed Recall. ‘“ The associations which I had in the 
learning came in before the words and were followed in each case 
by visual imagery of the word; the associations always came in in 
visual imagery.” 

Fi, VAM. Delayed Recall. “I had a vague visual image of some 
books; this meant for me language-books. Then came the vocimotor- 
auditory image ‘ Latin ;’ immediately QAH appeared in visual imagery.” 

S, VA. Delayed Recall. “In anticipating the series the concrete 
imagery came in first; e.g., I had visual imagery of some soil and a 
consciousness, which I can not describe, that the next word was related 
to soil; following this I had a visual image of a tub of clams; imme- 

262 O'BRIEN 

diately I had an auditory image of the word CLAM;; the association 
immediately dropped o 1t.” 

XIV. In adding an extraneous syllable to a syllable of the 
series,—as in the case of making the word ‘ Berlin’ from the 
printed syllable BER,—a remarkable phenomenon occurs in 
that, while the intruding syllable may come to consciousness 
during the act of recall, the O never fails to recognize that 
it does not helong to the series. Although it is present as 
among the contents of his recalled consciousness of the series, 
in the recall he never reports the formed word but always 
reports the syllable which was presented to him. 

T, Vm. “ With the syllable JIT I formed the association ‘jitney ;’ 
JIT was completed by a vocimotor ‘ney,’ very faint and less intensive 
than the vocimotor JIT.” 

C, VAMm. “With the syllable FEK I had the association ‘ Fech- 
ner;’ that is, after the visual perception of FEK there was vocimotor 
imagery of it; then I wrote it; then I had visual perception of the 
word I had written with a visual image of NER after the FEK, 
with vocimotor-auditory imagery of ‘Fechner;’ “he FEK was more 
clear and definite in the vocimotor-auditory image than the NER.” 

Fe, VM. “The syllable JOS was recalled in vocimotor-auditory 
imagery as ‘Joseph,’ with the emphasis on the JOS part.” 

W, VAMm. “I had several verbal associations present mostly in 
auditory imagery; for example, LIB="“liberal;’ the syllable LIB was 
more intensive than the rest; the latter syllables dropped out very 
early in the learning.” 

Fi, VMm. Delayed Recall. “After I had given XOL-JIT I had 
rapid vocimotor imagery of ‘funny rector;’ the nonsense component 
was emphasized and the completing part of the word was very indefi- 
nite.” (The syllables were FUN and REC.) 

XV. The size of the group which is formed by an O in 
the learning is sometimes determined by the immediate memory 
span of the O. 

C, VM. (What determined the number of words which would 
constitute a group?) ‘The number of words which I was able to 
retain in the amount of time I had left after the presentation of one 
word and before the next one was presented determined in most 
cases the size of the group.” 

W, A. “TI tried to retain the words in visual imagery in groups of 
5, but in the interval between the presentations of the words I was 
not able to retain that number, so I set up the Aufgabe to divide them 
into groups of 3; this I did.” 

S, AM. “Between the presentations of the words I would repeat 
about 4 of the immediately preceding words; I could not carry any 
more in memory. Then I started off with the fifth one as the first of 
the second group, and so on, until I got 4. This grouping took place 
in the first presentation.” 

XVI. The size of the group of words formed by an O in 
the learning may be determined by the number of words that 


the O is able to anticipate in the interval between the presen- 
tations of two successive words. 

P, A. “I began to combine the words, as many as I was able, 
between the presentations of two successive words.” 

C, VAm. “Some of the words were learned in pairs, because in 
joining them together I had time to go over only the word now being 
presented and the preceding one.” 

S, VAM. “In the first presentation I attempted to recall all the 
words I had passed up to about the fifth, as I found I was able to 
retain only this number of words. This threw the series into two 
groups of 5 each. This I did for 2 or 3 presentations.” 

XVII. The O may set up an Aufgabe to divide the series 
into definite groups. This course makes the size of the groups 

P, VMm. “TI set out with the vocimotor-auditory Aufgabe to group 
the words in pairs.” 

T, AM. (Why was it that your groups contained 4 syllables?) 
“In the beginning I set out with the Aufgabe to group the syllables 
in fours; during the presentation of the series I just found myself 
doing it.” 

C, AM. “After I passed the first 4 words I held them in visual 
imagery and in vocimotor-auditory imagery; this was the result of an 
Aufgabe set up in the foreperiod of the learning.” 

Fe, VMm. “The series were grouped in 5 groups of 4 each in the 
order in which they occurred.” This grouping seems to be the result 
of an Einstellung. 

W, VAMm. “After you had given me the signal ‘ Ready, now,’ I 
had vocimotor-auditory imagery of ‘Get them by fives right off.’ Then 
I had a very faint visual image of an entire sheet of paper with 
a schema of 4 groups.” 

Fi, VM. “The words were divided into groups of 4.” As this 
grouping took place in the first presentation, it seems evident that it 
was the result of an Einstellung carrying over from experiences in 
other investigaitons in which lists of nonsense material were used. 

XVIII. During the act of anticipating, and later in recalling 
a series, a visual schema of the series is sometimes present, 
especially for O’s of the visual type. 

T, Vm. Delayed Recall. “A visual schema of a vertical column 
in front of me appeared in consciousness; the schema became clear 
as there was eye-movement from the bottom up. The upper part 
remained very focal, especially the third place from the top. Then 
MIH came clearly in visual imagery (printed).” 

C, VAMm. Delayed Recall. “Each word came first in vocimotor 
imagery, followed by auditory and then by visual imagery; the visual 
image of the word appeared in a visualized column, and as visual 
attention moved up the column each word came in clearly.” 

W, A. “TINT-ANAL came in in visual imagery on a visualized 
sheet of paper in front of me, one word below the other.” 

Fi, Am. Delayed Recall. “JI had a vague visual schema in which 
the first 4 syllables stood out more clearly than the rest.” 

264 O'BRIEN 

S, A. Delayed Recall. “ The first word came on the top of a visual- 
ized sheet of paper, the visual image being of the mimetic sort (/) 
and accompanied by vocimotor and auditory imagery of ‘ent.’ Imme- 
diately DENT was vocalized.” 

XIX. During the act of anticipating, and later in recalling 
a series, a kinaesthetic schema of the series of words or 
syllables is sometimes present, especially with O’s of the motor 


P, AM. “Sometimes I stopped anticipating between the pairs and 
attempted to get a clear percept of each word, localizing them on my 
fingers; sometimes I did this for two successive presentations.” 

T, AM. “The immediate recall was as usual in vocimotor imagery 
with kinaesthetic imagery of tapping in the tempo with which each 
syllable was presented in the learning.” 

Fe, VAMm. “There was also present my localizing kinaesthetic 
schema, present in kinaesthetic imagery of pointing from left to right 
with my right hand, with eye-fixation at the place where I was point- 
ing. In this process the eye-fixation was much more focal and in- 
tensive than the kinaesthetic imagery of pointing.” 

W, VAM. “ Eye-kinaesthesis. I had a visual image of a sheet 
of paper; then unpleasantness and a sudden shift of visual attention 
to the bottom of the paper, which meant to me that the words which 
I had just now recalled did not belong at the top of the list.” 

Fi, AM. Delayed Recall. “For the first time in the recall I was 
aware of a vague visual schema which was different from the one 
I generally use; that is, I was aware of certain regions in the air in 
front of me, more of a spatial reference to something that was not 
filled in. This was followed by a kinaesthesis in the neck and eyes 
of turning slightly to one side in order to fixate this region; perhaps 
there was actual eye-movement. . . . Then DOY came in in 
visual imagery.’ 

S, A. “I was conscious of eye-movement up and down this visual 
schema; the lower part of the schema was focal and the first 3 words 
were anticipated in visual imagery.” 

XX. Words which are not recalled promptly are generally 
preceded, when they are recalled, by a schema which mediates 
their advent into consciousness. 

P, VMm. “When a word did not appear I would focus attention 
on the finger with which that word was associated; and the word 
when it appeared would come slowly in vocimotor and auditory 

T, Am. Delayed Recall. “Attention as focused on the bottom of a 
visual image of a vertical list. Eye-movement up several times, which 
meant to me ‘Start at the bottom and go up.’ While fixating this 
point, QIW finally came in in vocimotor imagery, but there was no 
visual imagery.” 

C, A. Delayed Recall. “Before I recalled KITE and SOFA, I 
had a visual blank in which there was room for 2 words; then voci- 
motor-auditory imagery, ‘Two words associated together;’ then both 
words appeared in visual imagery, localized on this visual schema, 
one over the other.” 


Fi, A. “There was a hesitation in which no words came; great 
tensions in the body; there had been gradually developing a visual 
schema in which I saw the series in a grayish outline extending toward 
the south-west from the floor.” 

XXI. If the word is recalled in imagery of the modality 
corresponding to O’s type and is not clear, it is often clarified 
by a coming in of imagery of a modality corresponding to 
the mode of presentation. 

T, VA. Delayed Recall. “DEJ appeared in vocimotor-auditory 
imagery, followed by a visual image, localized to the left of the 
aperture; the d was especially clear.” 

C, A. Delayed Recall. “In recalling DEAD, DEA appeared first 
in visual imagery, and this was completed by an auditory image form- 
ing the complete word DEAD.” 

W, Am. Delayed Recall. “CARD came in in visual imagery, local- 
ized at the top of the visual schema; not more than the AR and a 
very faint d were present. Immediately I had auditory imagery of 
the whole word, with emphasis upon the c; I repeated the whole word 
to myself in vocimotor-auditory terms several times.” 

S, VAMm. Delayed Recall. “I had a faint vocimotor-auditory 
image of TOLA. This was followed by a very clear visual image 
of it in print.” 

XXII. The recalled word may appear first in the imagery 
corresponding to the mode of presentation and may be com- 
pleted or clarified by the coming in of imagery corresponding 
to O’s imaginal type. 

T, AM. “After a long pause I had a clear visual image | of the 
letter a; then a vocimotor image of FAZ; then I vocalized it.’ 

C, AM. Delayed Recall. “Very often I had a visual image of the 
first part of the word which would be completed by a very clear dis- 
tinct visual image of the whole word.” 

W, A. “XUT appeared first in indistinct auditory imagery, I think 
of your voice; this was completed by a visual image of the word on 
a sheet of paper in front of me; the word appeared in type.” 

Fi, Vm. Delayed Recall. “All the words came in. There was 
perhaps a very vague visual image first, in printed type, accompanied 
by a distinct vocimotor-auditory image.” 

S, VA. “Most of the syllables were usually completed or filled 
out by a vocimotor image, although the syllable first appeared in a 
visual image.” 

XXIII. Visual imagery is not suited for a rapid anticipation 
or recall. If the O recalls very rapidly, it is found that the 
visual imagery does not develop quickly enough, and that for 
this reason the O often has recourse to vocimotor or auditory 
imagery or to both. 

C, VAM. “I began anticipating the second presentation in auditory 
imagery, then in visual imagery. About the middle of the presentation 
I started rapid anticipation and this was done in vocimotor-auditory 

imagery, the visual imagery not coming in at all; I anticipated so 
rapidly that it seemed there was not time for it to develop.” 

266 O'BRIEN 

W,VMm. “In the immediate recall I was surprised to find myself 
repeating the first 5 words in vocimotor imagery with no visual, I 
gave them very rapidly from the vocimotor image and only one vague 
visual image (of the word WAGE) came in. 

Fi, V. “TI then attempted to visualize the words, but the attempt 
always failed me and I abandoned it. The auditory-vocimotor antici- 
pation was much more rapid than the visual.” 

XXIV. The mode of presentation does not determine the 
modality of the imagery which the learner will employ in learn- 
ing a given material. 

P, A. Delayed Recall. “ The first pair of words that appeared was 
ERGO-VAMP;; they appeared in vocimotor imagery while pressing 
the fourth finger.” 

T, V. “The immediate recall of this series was mostly in actual 
speech, many of the words being preceded by vocimotor-auditory 

C, AM. “Most all the words appeared in visual imagery, followed 
very often by vocimotor- auditory imagery; the words were localized 
on my visual schema.” 

Fe, V. “CALF, SOFT, HUMP, URNS and BARK all came, one 
at a time, in vocimotor-auditory imagery, most of the auditory being 
of my own voice, but the vocimotor image seemed to be more intensive 
and clear.” 

W, AMm. Delayed Recall. “The first 7 words came in visual imag- 
ery; no vocimotor or auditory imagery was present.” 

Fi, V. “ The immediate recall came in vocimotor imagery; no visual 

S, A. Delayed Recall. “This recall was made from a visual image 
of the list about the size used in the presentation; I started at the 
bottom of the list and went up. HASH came in vocimotor imagery ; 
then in visual imagery. MILT-CUBE came in visual and vocimotor 
imagery. Which came first I can not say.” 

XXV. If the O fails in his attempt to anticipate a forth- 
coming word, he sometimes attends to the preceding words 
which he had just anticipated, and then he waits for the desired 
word to come into consciousness. 

P, VM. “After a few presentations I was able to anticipate the 
first pair and also the last 5 pairs. After this I attended wholly to 
the words which I was not able to anticipate. As soon as I per- 
ceived them I repeated them over and over until the next word was 
presented. . . . During this time I was neglecting the last 5 pairs 
which I had anticipated early in the learning. Later on, when I per- 
ceived these words focally as they were being presented, they ap- 
peared as new words.” 

T, VAM. “After I was able to anticipate the syllables I would 
hardly look at them . . . as if I were anxious to get to the place 
where I could not anticipate.” 

C, VMm. “In the third stage of the learning I attended to the 
drum only when I was not able to anticipate a syllable or when I 
was not sure when the word which I had anticipated was correct.” 


Fe, V. “Toward the end of the learning I had visual perception 
only of those words which I was unable to anticipate.” 

W, A. “ Toward the end of the learning process I did not attend 
to your presentation of the words until I was able to anticipate. In 
the last presentation I anticipated all the syllables.” 

Fi, VAM. “The syllables were anticipated mostly in vocimotor- 
auditory imagery; next I would look at the drum and, if I had antici- 
pated correctly, there would be a pronunciation of the syllable and 
then a turning away of my visual line of regard from the drum; then 
I would anticipate the next word.” 

S, AM. “In the third presentation I actually anticipated every 
syllable in the series; this anticipation was made with but little atten- 
tion to you; I attended only to my own anticipatory processes.” 

XXVI. If an O is unable to anticipate a word he often 
repeats the preceding words until the desired word appears. 

P, VA. “All the words came easily up to the seventh pair; then 
a blank; that is, no imagery came; then I had imagery of the next 
pair, so I gave it; I then went back to the sixth pair and repeated 
it in vocimotor-auditory terms; immediately the second pair followed 
right on.” 

T, VAM. Delayed Recall. “ PIW was repeated several times, mostly 
in auditory imagery. Immediately CUG-QAR came in vocimotor 
imagery, no schema being present.” 

C, VAM. Delayed Recall. “The first 8 words appeared first as very 
definite and intensive auditory imagery, followed by vocimotor imag- 
ery; then I had a visual image of a blank, to which I attended. Finally 
NEXT appeared in vocimotor imagery.” 

Fe, AMm. Delayed Recall. “‘ Crop’ came very easily in vocimotor- 
auditory imagery; auditory imagery of my own voice; then no 
imagery came but there was great unpleasantness and strains. ‘CROP, 
—un, un’ was repeated several times in vocimotor imagery; finally a 
vocimotor, ‘Gee, don’t know these.’” 

W, VM. “When the words did not appear promptly in the imme- 
diate recall there was a period during which there was no imaginal 
content in consciousness; then my eye moved up and down that part 
of the visual schema to which the desired word belonged; usually visual 
imagery of the words preceding and following the ‘desired words 
would come in; then suddenly these words would appear in visual 
imagery in their correct place.” 

Fi, A. Delayed Recall. “I had a visual schema in which was a 
blank space for about 2 words; I attended to the schema for awhile, 
conscious of strains in the whole body; then the syllable NAF came 
ns imagery and the remaining words of the series 

S, VAM. “TI had a visual image of my schema with a visual image 
of IDOL at the top of the list; then blank spaces for about 3 words 
below which meant to me that there were words left out; then voci- 
motor-auditory Aufgabe, ‘Try your vocimotor; you can get it that 
way;’ then I had vocimotor-auditory imagery of IDOL several times 
and the remaining words came in finally.” 

268 O’BRIEN 

XXVII. If an O comes to a part of the series which he 
is unable to anticipate, he very often stops his attempted an- 
ticipation until the word desired is presented to him in the 
ordinary course of the presentation of the series; he perceives 
this word, if the presentation is visual, or calls up imagery of 
it, if the presentation is auditory, until the next word is 

C, VMm. “In the next presentation I started to anticipate; in the 
middle of the series I had great difficulty; when they were presented 
I looked at them very hard and wrote them down, and looked at the 
word I had written for a long time.” 

W, V. “In the last presentation I adopted the same procedure 
as formerly, anticipating ahead of the actual presentation. When I 
could not anticipate I had recourse to the retention method; that is, 
as soon as the desired word was presented it was held in conscious- 
ness for a long time.” 

XXVIII. When an O could not recall a word, he some- 
times set up the Aufgabe to go through the alphabet in an 
attempt to get the word desired; 7.e., commencing with a, then 
b, etc., he would pronounce each letter or call up a visual 
image of it, excepting that, when he came to the letter which 
was the initial letter of the desired word, the word itself 
would come to consciousness. 

T, VAMm. “After I had given CEJ there was a blank; visual 
schema came in and the last 3 syllables stood out focally and I gave 
them to you; the fourth last space became focal but no syllable ap- 
peared; then I set up the vocimotor-auditory Aufgabe to go through 
the alphabet; when I came to M, MUN came in vocimotor-auditory 
imagery; with this there was also a visual image of MUV, with the 
V much more clear than the MU.” 

C, Am. Delayed Recall. “JOQ-HAJ was recalled in a sort of a 
logical procedure. A vocimotor-auditory Aufgabe, ‘Go through the 
alphabet. . . . When I came to 7 I had vocimotor-auditory imag- 
ery, ‘Some syllable had a j in it;’ then a visual image of a j, accom- 
panied by pleasant affective toning, and HOJ came in in visual imagery. 

XXIX. In the learning, some of the words formed ‘ corner 
stones’ on which the remainder of the series was learned. 

W, VA. “My procedure was to retain in visual imagery the first 
and last of each group of 5, and then to add one word each time in 
each presentation.” 

W, Vm. “I spent the rest of this presentation in attending to the 
first and last word of each group; that is, looking at them more 
attentively and keeping them longer in visual imagery than I did 
the rest of the group. In the next presentation these words so retained 
were always recognized as the first and last word of a group. . 

Later I commenced to attend more closely to the middle of each group. 
Then my procedure changed to one of anticipation; I could anticipate 
the first and last of each 5, then the middle. The rest of the pro- 
cedure consisted in anticipating the remaining words of each group.” 


The Process of Learning 

The process of learning was found to consist of three dis- 
tinct stages; and these three stages recurred throughout the 
experiments, whatever the mode of presentation, or the nature 
of the materials to be learned, or the ideational type (or 
learning-type) of the learner.”° 

I. The Orienting Stage. This initial stage of the process of learning 
extends over only the first few presentations of any given series to be 
learned. Whether it is confined to the first presentation alone, or 
whether it extends over several presentations, depends less upon the 
ideational type of the individual than upon the nature of the material 
itself (4.e,, whether meaningful words or nonsense-syllables) and the 
nature of the series (1.e., whether difficult or easy for the particular 

During the presentation of the material in this orienting stage, the 
attitude of the learner is one of passive receptivity. He makes no 
attempt either to group or to anticipate the words which are being 
presented; he merely perceives them. There are rare exceptions. Oc- 
casionally an O manifested an incipient tendency during this initial 
stage to group the materials into larger units, a tendency apparently 
consequent upon his having set up for himself during the foreperiod 
an Aufgabe to divide the list of material into groups of definite 
size. W sought groups of five and Fe groups of four. 

If the mode of presentation is a combined visual-auditory one, the 
learner in most cases attends focally to either the auditory or the 
visual stimulus alone, and very seldom to both equally. A feeling 
of familiarity for the series tends to develop during this initial stage, 
and marks the progress of the learner’s orientation in his task. 

It appears that the perception of the words, no matter how they 
may be presented, is invariably followed, at least in the first few 
presentations, by a reflex reproduction of them by the learner. This 
reproduction occurs in vocimotor or in vocimotor- auditory terms. 
Even the instruction to inhibit vocimotor imagery fails to prevent the 
vocimotor reproductions, at least during the first few presentations 
of the list.?2 

20 Meumann, Vorlesungen, II, divides the learning process into four 
stages: (1) the orientation or adaptation stage; (2) the stage of 
passive recptivity; (3) the stage in which the material is tentatively 
recited or checked by the learner; (4) the stage in which the learner 
finally fixes the uncertain parts of the series. The first and second 
stages of learning as given by Meumann differ but little, if at all, 
and therefore can easily be combined into one stage. If this is done 
our classification agrees exactly with that of Meumann. 

21 Secor, W. B. (Visual Reading, A study in mental imagery, Amer. 
J. Psychol., 11, 1900, 225-236), in his experiments on reading, reported 
that vocimotor movements could be inhibited. Curtis, H. S. (Auto- 
matic movements of the larynx, ibid., 11, 1900, 237-239), using a dif- 
ferent type of laryngograph, obtained graphic records of vocimotor 
movements when his O’s were mentally reciting a poem or a selection 
of prose. If Curtis’ results are to be taken to mean that vocimotor 
movement was present in all cases, it is probable that Secor’s learners 
employed vocimotor imagery, if not the actual vocimotor innervation. 
Abbott (On the analysis of memory consciousness in orthography, 

270 O'BRIEN 

When a learner of the visual type is fairly successful in inhibiting 
vocimotor processes, his visual imagery is usually less clear and definite 
than when the vocimotor processes are allowed to function in natural 
fashion. When the learner of the motor type attempts to inhibit the 
vocimotor processes, auditory imagery frequently makes its appearance 
and plays a more important réle than when the vocimotor processes 
are not interfered with. Auditory imagery may thus be enhanced even 
when the learner does not succeed in completely inhibiting his voci- 
motor processes. 22 

In rare instances learners succeeded in almost wholly eliminating 
the vocimotor processes from the very start of the series; but in every 
such case they found that it was impossible completely to memorize 
the materials presented.23 Even though the list were presented a great 

many times (in one instance 39 times), the process of memorizing 
still remained far from complete, and the learner eventually always 
gave up his attempt to memorize the material. A subsequent attempt 
to recall the list would show that not more than 5 or 6 words out 
of a list of 20 had been memorized, and that these words the O recalled 
with but a slight degree of subjective assurance and with no definite 
consciousness as to their exact position in the list. Every attempt 
to complete the act of memorizing without the participation of the 
vocimotor processes thus ended in failure and the abandonment of 
the effort to learn on account of fatigue or lack of time. Learners 
of the motor type were especially unsuccessful. 

With the O of visual type, the vocimotor image, though essential 
at first, tends to disappear very early in the learning process. It is 
seldom present after the fifth or sixth presentation of the series. 
This rule holds even when the learner is not instructed to inhibit voci- 
motor imagery. We hold, consequently, that, whatever the imaginal 
type of the learner may be, vocimotor imagery or vocimotor innerva- 
tion is absolutely necessary for an individual to begin to learn a series 
Psychol. Rev.. Mon. Sup., 11, 1909, 127-158) found that vocimotor 
processes were always an aid, and Smedley (op. cit.), concluded that 
it was impossible to test a single sense-modality because vocimotor 
imagery could not be repressed. The results obtained by Mould, 
Treadwell and Washburn (The influence of suppressing articulation 
on the favorable effects of distributing repetitions, Amer. J. Psychol., 
26, 1915, 286-288) show that the recall is twice as efficient when the O 
is allowed to use vocimotor imagery in the learning as when he is 
told not to use it, and accordingly attempts to inhibit it. The statistical 
data of these investigations indicate that vocimotor imagery was never 
wholly eliminated, and that the repression of vocimotor imagery was 
always a great distraction to the learners. 

22 This phenomenon has also been reported by Abbott and Secor, 
opp. citt. 

23 Kline, L. W. (A study in the psychology of spelling, J. Educ. 
Psychol., 3, 1912, 381-400) found that any interference with the dom- 
inant receptor mechanism results in a greater impairment of the learn- 
ing process than does an interference with the preferred form of ex- 
pression. Miiller and Schumann (Experimentelle Beitrage zur Unter- 
suchung des Gedachtnisses, Zsch. f. Psychol., 6, 1893, 81-190, 175-339) 
found that the repression of rhythmic vocalization renders learning 
almost impossible for some O’s. Cohn (op. cit.) also found that voci- 
motor processes were important to the learning and that learning was 
less efficient when the learner attempted to inhibit vocimotor imagery. 


of words or nonsense-syllables. In these early stages it can rarely 
be eliminated by instruction, and its elimination, when it does occur, 
prevents learning. 

When the O is given the Aufgabe to inhibit vocimotor imagery, he 
reacts in either of two ways. (1) He may accept the Aufgabe and 
actively attempt to inhibit it; if he is successful to a great degree, 
very little learning, if any, takes place. (2) He may comply with the 
instructions by setting up for himself a new Aufgabe, usually in voci- 
motor terms, to use imagery of another modality; ¢.g., ‘use visual 
imagery.’ This latter procedure is more efficient than the first, but 
is effective only for O’s of the visual type and after the first few 

When the Aufgabe required that the O pronounce the material aloud, 
vocalization often proved a hindrance to the learning. The chief fault 
of vocalization lies in the fact that it fills up so much of the time- 
interval (3 secs.) between the presentation of successive syllables that 
little time is allowed for the learner to anticipate the next syllable, 
and such anticipation is the learner’s method of testing his knowledge 
of the series. As a matter of fact vocalization of the material, when 
required, becomes less intensive in the later stages of the learning. 

II. The Stage of Attempted Anticipation. In the second stage of the 
learning process the O is very active in his attempts to anticipate the 
forthcoming members of the series. The power to anticipate the series 
becomes in every case the O’s criterion that he has learned the material. 

The anticipation takes place either in visual or vocimotor (auditory) 
terms, depending upon the learner’s type. In this stage the learner 
actually succeeds, however, in anticipating only a very few words, for 
he is concerned chiefly in obtaining a clear perception of each word 
during presentation and in attempting to combine the word at hand 
with the preceding and subsequent words. 

In rapid anticipation the learner of visual type often makes use of 
vocimotor-auditory imagery, reporting that visual imagery does not 
develop quickly enough and that he therefore finds himself using 
vocimotor imagery.?¢ 

The first two or three and the last two or three words of a series 
are usually the first to be anticipated. There is no definite order in 
which the remaining words begin to be anticipated. Only one of our 
7 O’s (S) did not invariably resort to grouping of the words, and even 
he occasionally used this expedient, although by no means so frequently 
as the other O’s who always grouped the words. 

The number of words or syllables which constitute a group is 
determined in one of five ways. (1) The time intervening between 
the presentation of two successive words. As soon as a word was 
presented, the learner would repeat it, and then repeat as many of 
the preceding words as possible before the following word was pre- 
sented. The maximum number of words that he was able to repeat 

24 Binet and Henri (La mémoire des mots, Année psychol., 1, 1894, 
1-23) report material recalled in vocimotor-auditory terms, because 
recall was so rapid that a visual image did not have time to develop. 
Von Sybel (op. cit.) found that when an O of visual type became 
fatigued he had recourse to vocimotor imagery. Von Sybel also found 
that the visual learner again employed vocimotor imagery when the 
Presentation of the material was very rapid. Pohlmann (op. cit.) 
observed that an O of visual type is hampered in his learning by a 
too rapid auditory presentation. 

272 O'BRIEN 

in this time would constitute a group. (2) The immediate memory- 
span of the O. As many words as an O was able to repeat to himself 
from immediate memory without confusing their order or forgetting 
a word would constitute a group. If he attempted to add another 
word to such a group, he would be unable to recall one or more of 
the words, and this failure would mean to him that he had exceeded 
his immediate memory-span. (3) A meaningful association. If a 
certain number of words form a meaningful association, then this 
number of words may form a group. (4) The Aufgabe. In the fore- 
period, or during the learning, the O may set up an Aufgabe to group 
in fours or fives, thus forming a purely arbitrary group. The size 
of the groups chosen is frequently determined by the O’s experience, 
either during the experiment or in previous experiments, by which he 
knows what size of group is the most efficient for him to work with 
in learning a series of words. (5) Difficult words. A difficult word 
often marked the beginning of a group; if a learner had especial diffi- 
culty either in perceiving a word or in anticipating it, this difficult 
word would become the initial member of a group. The next diffi- 
cult word would be the first word of the next group; thus the number 
of words which would constitute such a group varied. 

A group formed through the medium of a meaningful association 
is least apt to be forgotten in the recall. An entire group thus formed 
may fail to appear to consciousness in the recall; but, if the first 
— the group can be recalled by the O, the others follow very 

Meaningful associations are present in the first few presentations 
only and then drop out, seldom to reappear in the, learning. This 
rule holds no matter in what modality of imagery the association ap- 
pears. The effect of such association is manifest in anticipation and 
recall, for the meaningfully associated words come into consciousness 
more quickly, one after the other, than the other words. 

The temporal relations between the appearance of the words of the 
series and their meaningful associations are as follows. (1) The 
words to be recalled come into consciousness quickly and clearly in 
the imagery of the O’s type; the meaning is present in the words them- 
selves and in the fact that they come together. The O was unable 
to find any other introspective evidence to explain the meaning. (2) 
The meaningful content comes into consciousness in imagery of any 
modality; the words of the series come later and very quickly, one 
after the other, in the imagery of the O’s type. If the association is 
present in a visual-concrete or an auditory-concrete image, it is fol- 
lowed by verbal imagery of the desired word in the imagery of the 
O’s type. (3) The words themselves come first in the imagery of 
the O’s type, and the meaningful content comes later, either in verbal 
or concrete imagery of any modality. (4) If a meaning was attached 
to a syllable by adding one or two syllables to the presented syllable, 
thereby making it a meaningful word, the O ‘knows’ what part of 
the made-word is the syllable desired by the fact that the desired 
syllable is more clear and definite, if a visual image, and more intensive 
and distinct, if the image is motor or auditory or auditory-motor, than 
the added or associated part. 

III. Anticipatory Stage. In this final stage of the process of learn- 
ing, the O is concerned chiefly in anticipating the syllables. He may 
anticipate as rapidly as he is able with no reference to the words which 
are being presented, or he may anticipate one word at a time just 
before it is presented to him. As soon as the word is presented he 


perceives it focally, and again anticipates the next word just before 
it is presented to him. Vocimotor imagery may or may not be present 
if the O is of visual type; if he is of motor type he repeats this stimu- 
lus-word several times and then links it with the preceding or subse- 
quent words, or with both. 

In the case of an O whose anticipation of words or syllables is far 
in advance of their actual presentation, an interesting phenomenon 
is seen when the O comes to a point in the series where anticipation 
is impossible. Then the process of anticipating ceases until, in the 
actual presentation, that word is reached which he failed to anticipate. 

This procedure of anticipating and linking up the words which he 
can not anticipate, a learner continues until all the words have been 
anticipated at least once. In many instances, after correctly antici- 
pating the series once, he will set up the Aufgabe, ‘Go through and 
anticipate the series once more, to make certain;’ and then, having 
again anticipated successfully, he will signify that he has learned 
the series. 

When the material is presented to the learner in a purely auditory 
fashion, he very often finds it difficult to obtain a definite percept -of 
words or syllables containing such letters as c, k, d, g, and ¢ occurring 
either as initial or final letters, and w and hA occurring as final letters 
in a syllable.?5 

Some O’s, as soon as they perceive the auditory stimulus, decide 
upon a definite spelling of the word, especially in the latter part of the 
investigation. In this way the uncertainty as to the correct spelling 
of the word, if it enters at all, is very slight. In most instances such 
words are not spelled by the O’s in the form in which E had them in 
his lists. 

Greater attention, it appears, may be secured by material presented 
in auditory fashion than by material presented visually. This dif- 
ference is due to the nature of the auditory presentation itself. Indi- 
viduals find it more difficult to obtain a definite auditory perception 

25 Henmon, V. A. C. (The relation between mode of presentation 
and retention, Psychol. Rev., 19, 1912, 79-96) found that material was 
learned more efficiently when the words were presented in purely audi- 
tory fashion, but he excluded all syllables ending in c, g and &, and all 
syllables beginning with x. The excluding of words containing these 
letters from his material did away with the main difficulty connected 
with the auditory mode of presentation. Henmon claims he was in- 
vestigating the relative efficiency of the different modes of presenta- 
tion, but by omitting words containing such letters as c, g, k, he elim- 
inated one of the difficulties necessarily connected with the auditory 
mode of presentation. The auditory mode of presentation, therefore, 
was given an advantage which was not given to the other modes 
of presentation, since many letters like e, a, b, |, look alike in the 
visual presentation, and may give rise to an ‘indefinite visual per- 

Pohlmann (op. cit.) found that auditory presentation is better than 
visual for young children. This result can be explained by the fact 
that children are more familiar with spoken language than with written 
language. Pohlmann also found that auditory presentation is not 
efficient for the learning of nonsense-syllables because the learner is 
often uncertain as to what the exact sound is. 

Abbott (op. cit.) also confirms our findings, for her O’s recognized 
only about one-half of the words when they were pronounced to them. 

274 O'BRIEN 

than a definite visual perception, especially with nonsense material, 
hence greater attention is required when the material is presented in 
auditory fashion. Nevertheless in spite of increased attention audi- 
tory presentation does not increase the efficiency of learning. To a 
large extent this heightened attention is aroused by the inherent indis- 
tinctness of the auditory percept, and the O’s alertness is expended 
in decisions about the material and not in further impression of the 

In both the immediate and delayed recalls the material is recalled 
always as individual words, though the words may have been grouped 
in the learning. Words which were grouped in the learning came to 
mind more quickly in the recall one after the other and with a slightly 
longer pause after the last one, than do words which were not grouped. 
Those O’s who employ a visual schema often in grouping visualize 
a part of this schema, equal to that which the number of words in the 
group would require if they were printed in the same fashion as the 
material used in the visual presentation. The words themselves then 
come to consciousness, one at a time, usually in visual imagery. Words 
not grouped in the learning come to consciousness in the recalls, 
one at a time, but much more slowly than the grouped words. 

In many cases an O is subjectively certain that the recalled material 
is correct, but the structure of this subjective assurance is not the 
same for all O’s.2® The following items, arranged in order of impor- 
tance, may contribute to this state of consciousness, although not more 
than two or three of them need be present at any one time. (1) 
The O after recalling a word was able to attempt the recall of the 
subsequent word without the first word reappearing’ during the at- 
tempted recall of the second word; (2) the imagery of recall comes 
rapidly to consciousness; (3) the recalled words are pronounced with 
positiveness; (4) the affective tone is pleasant. 

When the words do not come to consciousness quickly either in the 
anticipating or in the recall, all O’s, regardless of their imaginal type, 
usually recall the words in vocimotor oe 

26 Finzi (op. cit.) noted that subjective assurance depends upon the 
distinctness of the memory image; the more distinct the image the 
more convinced is one of its fidelity. He also found that certain 
organic sensations are present when the learner is subjectively certain 
that his recall is correct. Frankfurther and Thiele (op. cit.) pointed 
out that an important requisite for this state is the presence of a 
spatial schema for localizing the material. Kuhn, A. (Ueber Einpra- 
gung durch Lesen und durch Rezitieren, Zsch. f. Psychol., 68, 1914, 
396-482) noted the following factors as making up the consciousness 
of subjective assurance: (1) clearness of the visual image, (2) num- 
ber of helps, and (3) smoothness of recall. Meyer (Bereitschaft und 
Wiedererkennen, Zsch. f. Psychol., 70, 1914, 161-211) emphasized two 
factors: (1) quickness of reaction time and (2) definiteness of localiza- 
tion. Pederson (Experimentelle Untersuchung der visuellen und 
akustischen Erinnerungsbilder, angestellt an Schulkindern, Arch. f. d. 
ges. Psychol., 4, 1905, 520-534) held that (1) a good perception of the 
material and (2) a highly concentrated attention were the requisites 
for a consciousness of subjective assurance. 

27 Von Sybel (op. cit.) also found this to be the case. He reported 
that his learners used more vocimotor imagery and less visual imagery 
when the series was difficult to acquire. 


A schema of localization is usually employed by O’s in the recall, 
especially when the material to be recalled does not come to con- 
sciousness quickly. There are three types of schemata: (1) a visual 
schema; (2) a kinaesthetic schema; (3) a rhythmic schema. 

(1) Visual Schema. This schema is employed mostly by O’s of the 
visual type,28 and to a less extent by some O’s of the motor type. It 
consists of a visual image of a sheet of paper with words printed on 
it. It is usually localized directly in front of the O with the words 
appearing in a vertical column, the first word at the top. In one 
instance this schema appeared in a horizontal plane with the words 
running from left to right. When a word does not come to con- 
sciousness quickly, the schema appears first. The part of the schema 
to which the word belongs is most focal, and the rest of the schema 
is present in a very indefinite non-focal fashion. The word desired 
then appears in consciousness in visual imagery, usually localized in 
its proper place in the schema. Some O’s are conscious of eye-move- 
ment up and down the series localizing the words in the visual schema. 

(2) Kinaesthetic Schema. This schema is used by the O’s of the 
motor type who employ very little visual imagery. It consists of a 
kinaesthetic movement or imagery of movement of the hand or 
head pointing to that part of the series to which the particular word 
belongs. The extreme left of the O represents the first word of the 
series and the extreme right the last of the series. No visual imagery 
is present, although there is the kinaesthesis of eye-movement accom- 
panying the manumotor or arm-motor imagery of pointing. 

(3) Rhythmic Schema. This schema is used by O’s of all types, 
and consists of a vocimotor consciousness of rhythmic sounds. In 
some instances no definite words or syllables are present.2® The 
rhythm, up to the point where the word fails to appear, is repeated 
by the O until the required word is obtained or until the learner gives 
up his attempt to recall the word. 

When the words do not appear in consciousness some O’s often set 
up an Aufgabe, usually in vocimotor- auditory terms, to go through the 
alphabet; 1.e., start with a and pronounce each letter, expecting that 
when the correct initial letter is pronounced the word itself will come 
to consciousness. 

The clearness and definiteness with which any schema appears in 
consciousness is in direct relationship to the difficulty with which 
the words appeared. If the words come to consciousness after a 
short pause, the schema, if it appears at all, is non-focal; if the word 
or group does not appear until a relatively long time has elapsed, the 
schema is focal and definite in consciousness. Since the schema is 
more focally present when the recall of words is more difficult, it is 
therefore more focal in delayed recall than in immediate recall. 

28 Kuhlmann, F. (On the analysis of the memory consciousness, Psy- 
chol. Rev., 13, 1906, 316-348) reports that the schema of localization 
generally precedes the recalling of the material. 

29 Miller (Zur Analyse der Gedachtnistatigkeit und des Vorstellungs- 
verlaufes, Zsch. f. Psych., Ergbd. V., 1911, xiv+403) emphasized the 
importance of rhythm, especially in the first stages of the learning. 
Miller and Schumann (of. cit.) also found that rhythm was a very 
important factor in learning inasmuch as the syllables which had once 
formed a part of a metrical foot tended to be associated more closely 
than syllables not bound together in this way. 

276 O'BRIEN 

The O is apt to be uncertain in recall when a word is recalled 
with difficulty.2®° Two or more of the following factors, listed in 
order of their importance, usually constitute this consciousness of 
uncertainty. (1) The first syllable in an associated pair keeps re- 
peating itself; even after the recall of the second syllable the first 
continues to recur in consciousness. (2) Images of the two syllables 
alternate or rival in consciousness. (3) A word fluctuates in its posi- 
tion in the schema of localization. There is (4) hesitancy in vocaliza- 
tion, (5) a questioning intonation in vocalization, (6) an unpleasant 
affective tone. 

If in the learning an O forms a group which is recalled in motor 
terms, a motor trend sometimes appears as an aid in recall: as soon 
as a learner vocalizes one word of a group he ‘finds’ his vocal ap- 
paratus automatically set to say the next word. The group thus 
becomes a motor unit’ which runs its course automatically once it 
is initiated. 

In anticipating and recalling the words of a series, the visual 
imagery of a word may appear (1) typewritten, (2) in the O’s own 
handwriting, or (3) in a form that can not be recognized as any 
specific writing or printing. There is no conclusive evidence that 
explains the occurrence of one of these forms rather than another. 
Most of the visual imagery is of the typewritten form and is derived 
doubtless from the presented material. It is when the O is required 
to write the words in the learning or in the recall that he has many 
visual images of his own handwriting. Especially does he seem to 
visualize his handwriting if he has a characteristic way of forming 
—_ letters. 

he O of visual type, when presented with material in either audi- 
mi. or visual fashion, always recalls in visual imagery.*1 The O 
of motor type, when presented with material in visual or auditory 
fashion, almost always recalls in vocimotor imagery. It appears; there- 
fore, that, regardless of mode of presentation, an O recalls material 
predominantly in imagery of his own type, although supplemented at 
times by the imagery corresponding to the mode of presentation. Cer- 
tainly the mode of presentation is in no way indicative of the modality 
of imagery that an O will employ in recalling that material. 

When material is recalled with difficulty, the imagery may first 
appear in the O’s own type, and then be completed by imagery corre- 
sponding to the imagery of the mode of presentation; or the difficult 
word may first appear incomplete and unclear in the imagery of the 
mode of presentation, and then be completed by the imagery of the 
learner’s type. Observers of all types in recalling in auditory terms a 
material presented auditorily by E usually have imagery of their own 

80 Kuhlmann (op. cit.) and von Wartensleben (Ueber den Einfluss 
der Zwischenzeit auf die Reproduktion gelesener Buchstaben, Zsch. 
f. Psychol., 64, 1913, 321-385) found subjective uncertainty when there 
was rivalry between two images for the center of consciousness. Meyer 
(op. cit.) found that the greater the lack of subjective assurance the 
longer the reaction-time, and that indefinite localization conditioned 
subjective uncertainty. 

31 Abbott (op. cit.) points out that a visual image is invariably sub- 
stituted at once for the heard letters. Frankfurther and Thiele, Meu- 
mann and many other investigators have shown that the image of the 
reproduced word is primarily determined in the ideational type’ of the 
learner, and is influenced only secondarily by the mode of presentation. 


voices rather than of E’s. Occasionally, however, if E pronounces a 
word in a manner which seems odd to the O, the recall appears in 
auditory imagery of E’s voice. 

In no instance, either in learning or in recall, did any O report the 
presence of a manumotor image.®? It has been assumed that learning 
is more efficient if the material to be acquired is written during the 
act of learning, especially when the material is dictated to the learner 
as it may be in learning to spell. In the light of our data it appears 
that the writing-movement, the motor sensations per se, do not help 
at all in the learning.** The help comes rather from the O’s seeing 
what he has written, and it is this visual percept only that helps the 
learner. The act of writing is important and necessary because it 
makes possible this visual percept and because attention is thus retained 
longer upon the word than is the case when the word is written 
by another person. 

If the series is difficult to learn and the O requires a great number 
of presentations to learn it, the delayed recall is apt to be relatively 
poor. This situation arises because successive presentations yield 
diminishing returns. In most of the later presentations the O passes 
over the words which he has already anticipated; he assumes that they 
are learned and tries neither to perceive them clearly nor to anticipate 
them. Thus the later presentations do little to strengthen the asso- 
ciations of many of the words, which after a time pass below the asso- 
ciative threshold as readily as if the final presentations had not been 

Meumann’s rule is that the greater the number of presentations, the 
greater the strength of the association, everything else being equal. 
But in no series unfortunately are all things equal. Even nonsense 
syllables are of unequal difficulty, and the various positions within 
the presented series are variously favorable. Hence in learning a 
series it is inevitably true that some parts are learned first and that 
the final presentations are of greatly diminished value in the further 
impression of these parts. 

82 One observer, T, Am, reported with great uncertainty what he 
thought was a manumotor image, but at no other time was a manu- 
motor image reported by any O. 

33 Smith, T. L. (On muscular memory, Amer. J. Psychol., 7, 1896, 
453-490) found that errors in recall were reduced 16% by allowing the 
learner to write the letters; but his subjects were deaf mutes and 
employed the deaf-mute alphabet. The nature of this material lends 
itself more readily to motor reproduction than does printed or spoken 
language. Lay (op. cit.) concluded that the writing per se is an aid 
to learning; Fuchs and Hzggenmiiller and Itschner (opp. citt.), who 
obtained results similar to Lay’s, explained their findings differently. 
Fuchs and Haggenmiiller pointed out that the material is seen twice 
when it is written, once when it is presented and a second time after 
being written. Itschner calls attention to the fact that the presenta- 
tion-time is longer for the series when the O’s write the words and 
that writing the words destroys an illusion that the material is 
learned, which occurs prematurely in visual presentation. 

R. Dodge (Die motorischen Wortvorstellungen, 1896, 78 pp.), al- 
though of extreme motor type, never had a manumotor image. 

278 O'BRIEN 

Objectwe Data 

In securing the objective data we arbitrarily determined to 
make the following deductions for each of the possible errors 
in recall. The deductions are in arbitrary units based on 
the assumption that perfect recall involves 1,440 units. 

Three-letter Four-letter 
syllables words 
For a wrong letter 
For an omitted letter 
For a misplaced letter 
For each letter of an unplaced word 
For each letter of an interchanged word. 
For an interchanged letter 

The deductions were determined in the following manner. 
The correct recall of a single letter was assumed to count 6 
points, and its omission in recall to necessitate a deduction 
of 6 points from the maximal score. For giving a wrong 
letter 8 points were deducted, since it is a greater error to 
give a wrong letter than to give none at all; in this case not 
only is the correct letter forgotten, but the lacuna is also 
filled in by false data. Since, when a wrong letter is given, 
more than the total value of a letter is deducted (8/6), it is 
theoretically possible to obtain a negative score if more than 
three-fourths (6/8) is positively wrong in recall. Such a 
situation, however, if it occurred, would indicate a positive 
tendency for mislearning and not merely a failure to learn, 
and should properly be represented by a negative value. For 
each letter of a misplaced word or syllable, 4 points were to 
be deducted ; for each letter of an unplaced (unlocalized within 
the series) word or syllable, 2 points; for each letter of inter- 
changed words, 2 points. In the foregoing table of deductions 
these points have been multiplied by 4 for three-letter non- 
sense-syllables and by 3 for the four-letter meaningful words, 
in order that the total values of the two materials might be 
the same. Thus the score-value of 60 three-letter syllables is 
60341440; and the score-value of 60 four-letter words 
is 60X4X3=1440. The 1440 units represent perfect recall; 
deductions are made from 1440 in accordance with the fore- 
going table, and the remainder is expressed as a percentage 
of perfect recall (1440 points). . 

vVuy WA WV WANV=YWAVA YAA WA _ esuesuon 
WA WA [nysurueayy 

wy V WAVA 

VA WAV WIA WA WVA = ssueasuon, 
wVA A wA UWWVA WY WA Mmj3urueeyy 
WAVA UAV = Wy wA Vv VA WANA WVY>=WVA WA = suesuoN 

wy WAV WA WIANVA Vv A = FA WV = WA WVA _ssuasuon 
A WA Injaurueeyy 

WVA V wy VA A WV WANA WAV=WA  2sussuOoN 

WV WWA WA V A uy wVyA WVA = VA=WA [yauueypy ay 
WY VA WVA A=WWA wy = VY = WA WAVA YAY Mysuueepy Mi 
1a! or 6 L 9 S ¥ € A T 
quay 3see’] quay” oP, = :eUaIePY ‘SqO 



280 O’BRIEN 

Table I shows that there is no one mode of presentation 
which is the best for all O’s. Visual-vocimotor presentation, 
VM, is the most efficient in 7 cases: it is second in efficiency 
once, fifth once, ninth once, and last once. Nor is the same 
mode of presentation best for the same O with different ma- 
terials. W, for example, finds visual-vocimotor presentation, 
VM, the most efficient mode in learning meaningful words, 
whereas it is only eighth best for him in the learning of non- 
sense material. 



Order of Mode Meaningful Nonsense Average 
Presentation Presentation Words Syllables Two Materials 

7 6.87 








- > 
: > 
_ = 


Table II again shows that the combined visual-vocimotor 
mode of presentation is by far the most efficient. The amount 
of variation between the other modes of presentation is so 
slight that no significant differences are apparent. 

These objective data do not properly afford an answer to 
the problem of the most efficient mode of learning, because 
in the first place the determinations are too few to allow of a 
significant statistical treatment, and because the general aver- 
ages fail to take account of the imaginal type of the O’s. If 
statistics are to tell the true story, an average must represent 
not a single mode of presentation but a single mode of learn- 
ing. The learning-process must be introspectively controlled 
or at least viewed in the light of the previously determined 
type of the learner, and averages must be found for similar 
modes of learning, even though they occur with dissimilar 
modes of presentation. 



1. The process of learning consists of three distinct stages: 
(a) the orienting stage (pp. 269 ff.); (b) the stage of at- 
tempted anticipation (pp. 271 f.); and (c) the anticipatory 
stage (pp. 272 ff.). 

2. All of our O’s found it necessary to employ vocimotor 
imagery in learning a series of meaningful words or nonsense- 
syllables ; no O was able to learn a series of words or nonsense- 
syllables if he succeeded under instruction in inhibiting voci- 
motor imagery from the start. The O’s of visual type in 
most cases did not employ vocimotor imagery after the first 
few presentations of the material in the learning, but the 
vocimotor imagery was present during the initial presentations 
and did not lapse until the visual imagery had become clear 
and definite. The O’s of the motor type are never able to 
inhibit vocimotor imagery and yet learn the material. 

3. If the O is instructed not to use vocimotor imagery 
during learning he responds (a) by attempting actively to 
inhibit vocimotor imagery, thus interfering with or prevent- 
ing learning, or (b) by setting up for himself a new Aufgabe 
to use imagery of another modality (e.g., visual imagery). 

4. The O in learning usually groups the words or syllables ; 
and the number of words or syllables which constitute a 
group depends upon (a) the time intervening between the 
presentation of two successive words, (b) the immediate 
memory-span of the O, (c) the meaningful associations be- 
tween the words or syllables, (d) the presence of an Aufgabe 
for grouping that the learner himself may set up, and (e) 
the position of difficult words within the series. 

5. Manumotor imagery does not aid either the learning or 
the recall. When the material to be learned is presented to 
the O in auditory fashion, the learning is in most cases more 
efficient if the O is required to write the material than if he 
does not write it; and the increased efficiency occurs especially 
when the materials are isolated words or syllables or when 
auditory perception is less definite than visual perception. In 
these cases the O must decide upon a definite spelling in order 
to write the word pronounced to him, and the writing thus 
definitizes the perception. The advantage of writing, there- 
fore, comes not from manumotor processes but from the 
visual percept of the written word. 

6. The mode of presentation is in no way indicative of the 
modality of imagery that an O will employ in learning or 

282 O'BRIEN 

recalling a series of words or syllables. The modality of the 
imagery which a learner employs is determined primarily by 
his ideational type and only secondarily by the mode of pres- 

7. All O’s find it difficult to obtain a definite auditory per- 
ception of some syllables, especially those syllables containing 
the letters c, g, k; d, t; etc. 

8. The recall of difficult words or syllables is in most cases 
preceded by the appearance in consciousness of a schema in 
one of three types: (a) visual schema (p. 275), (b) kinaes- 
thetic schema (p. 275), (c) rhythmic schema (pp. 263, 275). 

9. In addition to the words themselves and their associa- 
tions there may occur as an aid a ‘motor trend.’ This ‘ motor 
trend’ is present in the acts of anticipation but more fre- 
quently in the recalls. 

10. Extraneous associations with the words to be learned 
are formed by all the O’s. There seems to be no well-defined 
chronological order in which the words and these associa- 
tions appear in recall. The word appears sometimes in the 
imagery corresponding to the learner’s ideational type and 
sometimes in the imagery corresponding to the mode of pres- 
entation; and the association similarly may come either in 
the imagery of the learner’s ideational type or of the mode of 

11. Words which have these extraneous associations are in 
most instances retained better than words not thus associated. 

12. The first two or three and the last two or three words 
of a series are the first words of the series to be learned. 

13. Visual imagery is not efficient for a rapid anticipation 
and usually gives way to vocimotor imagery when rapid an- 
ticipation is acquired. 

14. In visual-auditory presentation the learner seldom at- 
tends equally to both the auditory and the visual aspects of 
the presentation. He attends usually almost wholly to the 
one or to the other according to his ideational type. 

15. The recall of a series is sometimes accompanied by sub- 
jective assurance and sometimes by subjective non-assurance. 

16. The statistical data obtained in this study are significant 
in scarcely a single instance for the reason that, although the 
objective conditions were kept constant in accordance with 
the rules for such investigations, the subjective factors could 


not be brought under control. At best mere objective data 
will do little more than indicate the most efficient mode of 
presentation for a particular O, until account is taken of the 
ideational type of the O’s, the attentive selection that they 
exercise among the various presentative aspects of a material, 
and the manner in which one sensory mode is subject to 
translation into another. Some introspective procedure is a 


XLII. Vo_untary Controt or Likes AND DISLIKES; THE EFFECTS OF AN 
oF CoLors. 


Marcus Aurelius said: “Everything is opinion, and opinion is in 
our power.” It is the second part of this comfortable aphorism that 
most arouses our distrust. When we test it critically, it seems 
to resolve itself into the much less satisfactory statement that one 
of our opinions is in the power of another of our opinions when 
the two come into conflict; the most encouraging feature of the 
case is that the victory in such a conflict may through the operation 
of certain mental processes be conferred on that opinion which 
seemed at the outset weaker. Such a conflict is especially vital when 
the opinions are not merely intellectual but emotional; when they 
are desires. Practical life often confronts us with the advisability 
of ‘changing our desires rather than the order of the world,’ to 
use another Stoic phrase; of liking the things we at first disliked, 
and regarding with aversion the things that were originally attractive 
to us. This feat can actually, by a person with normal mental 
inhibitions, be performed; and one of the most important problems in 
practical psychology concerns the methods by which it can be 

If we reflect on the process as it occurs in experience, we find that, 
in the first place, the nature of our organism itself has furnished us 
with a powerful aid in the overcoming of desires. Through the law 
of affective fatigue or adaptation an emotion tends naturally to pass 
over into its opposite; violent delights have violent ends. This natural 
tendency, which operates on good and bad desires alike, may be utilized 
by the individual who wishes to overcome a desire, and may probably 
be somewhat accelerated in its action by the other methods which 
we wilj proceed to mention. 

A second method by which our affective attitude to certain stimuli 
may be changed is that of fixing attention on different elements in 
the stimulus. The object desired is usually sufficiently complex to 
be not all desirable or all undesirable. One who wishes to change 
his affective attitude towards a given object may turn his attention 
from its merits to its defects, or vice versa, provided of course that 
the existing emotional reaction is not so strong as to make attention 

Thirdly, we can alter our likes and dislikes by transforming reality 
through the aid of imagination. That is, the object may be surrounded 
by a set of ideas unlike its actual setting, and thus become much 
more or much less desirable. A person who wishes to overcome a 
passion for another may imagine that other placed in different social 
conditions, where his or her defects of character or training would be 



more apparent, or may ask himself how the individual in question 
would ‘wear’ as an unescapable daily companion. This device, in 
proportion as the imaginary circumstances are improbable, if it 
succeeds in altering the emotional attitude, does so by virtue of the 
mechanism which the Freudians have called phantasy; a form of 
withdrawal from reality. 

Finally, it is possible to change the affective attitude by deliberately 
performing the movements and reactions which belong to the opposite 
attitude, so far as these reactions are controllable. This is the Freudian 
mechanism of compensation: whistling to keep up one’s courage; 
declaring in words and acts as strongly as possible that one loves 
the thing one really hates, or did hate in the beginning. 

We may call these four devices by the following terms respectively : 
(1) affective fatigue; (2) shift of attention; (3) imaginary context; 
(4) compensation. 

The present study undertook to observe the process of deliberately 
altering the affective reaction to color, presented in the form of 
small pieces, 3 centimeters square, pasted each in the middle of a 
card 2% by 3 inches. One of these cards was laid on a table before 
the observer, who was asked to express her judgment of the pleasant- 
ness of the color by using one of the numbers from 1 to 7, 1 meaning 
‘very unpleasant,’ 7 ‘very pleasant,’ and 4 ‘indifferent.’ When the 
judgment had been expressed, the experimenter said “Now I want 
you to see if you can dislike that color,” if the judgment had been 
favorable; or, “I want you to see if you can like that color,” if the 
judgment had been unfavorable. The original judgment and the 
altered judgment were recorded, and the observer was then asked 
how she had effected the change. This proceeding was followed 
with each of eighteen Bradley colors, namely, saturated red, orange, 
yellow, green, blue, violet and the lightest tint and darkest shade 
of each of these six. About two months later each observer was 
asked to judge the pleasantness of the colors again; this was done 
in order to study the permanence of the changes voluntarily produced. 

The total number of observers from whom complete returns were 
obtained was 53; since each judged eighteen colors, there were in all 
954 experiments in each of the two series, the earlier and the deferred 

In 6.3% of these experiments, the observer was unable to change 
her judgment of the color. 

Of all the 1 {very unpleasant) judgments made, 14% could not be changed. 
“« «« “2 (moderately unpleasant) zs ps ‘ % BA = ‘ 
ie : (slightly unpleasant) 

~ = $ tienen ne TA - 

“ Ty “ 

slightly pleasant) 

“« “6 (moderately pleasant) . 
“ « 7 (very pleasant) “ 88% “ « “ 

As was to be expected, it was thus found that extreme judgments 
are harder to change voluntarily than moderate judgments. More 
interesting is the result that judgments of extreme unpleasantness are 
decidedly harder to change than judgments of extreme pleasantness. 

Where the effort to change the judgment was successful, we may 
note certain points with regard to the extent of the change produced. 
Evidently the judgments 1 and 7 had equal chances to be altered by 
six points. The results show that in 9% of the 1 judgments the effort 
to find the colors more agreeable resulted in raising the judgment to 
7; while in 32% of the 7 judgments the effort to find the colors less 


agreeable altered the judgment to 1. It seems clear that under our 
conditions it is much easter voluntarily to lessen the pleasantness of 
a color by six points than voluntarily to raise its pleasantness by six 

. A similar relation, though less marked, holds between raising and 
lowering pleasantness by five points. The judgments 2 and 6 have 
equal chances to be changed five points. Of the 2 judgments, 36% 
were by the effort to find the colors more pleasant raised to 7; of 
the 6 judgments, 48% were by the effort to find the colors less 
pleasant lowered to 1. Jt is noticeably easter voluntarily to lessen 
the pleasaniness of a color by five points than voluntarily to raise tts 
pleasantness by five points. 

In a number of cases where the effort to change the affective value 
of a color succeeded, the original judgment recurred after the two 
months’ interval ; that is, the pleasantness of the color was estimated 
after the interval just as it had been estimated when first shown, 
before the effort was made to alter it. Of the 7 judgments, 29% 
thus recurred; of the 6 judgments, 26.9%; of the 5 judgments, 28.3% 
of the 4 judgments, 25.7%; of the 3 judgments, 18%; of the 2 
judgments, 25%; of the 1 judgments, 26.7%. It thus appears that 
pleasant judgments, though more easily changed than unpleasant 
judgments, have a somewhat greater tendency to recur later. The 
average percent. of recurrence for pleasant judgments is 28; for 
the unpleasant judgments it is 23.2 Part of this difference is caused 
by the very low tendency of the judgment 3 to recur; a fact for 
which we have no explanation to suggest. 

In a number of other cases the judgment made after the two months’ 
interval coincided not with the original judgment, but with the 
judgment as altered by the observer’s effort. Here it is interesting 
to observe the relation between the amount and direction of the 
change effected, and its permanency. 

Of the changes where pleasantness was raised 1 Point, 24% were permanent. 
“* lowered “ 32% ** Fe 
ee “ « “ “ peieat 9 points, 

“ “ “ “ 

“ “ 
“ “ 

“ “ “ ‘ * “ “ 

“ “ “ “ “ 

“ “ “ “ “ 

“ “ “ lowered “‘ 

Obviously accidental variation would often be responsible for slight 
changes from the original judgment, so one would expect that one 
point changes would have the greatest tendency to recur. Where 
the amount of change was more than one point, it is noticeable that 
changes in the direction of increased pleasantness are more likely 
to be lasting (av. per cent of permanence of former, 11.1, of latter, 

On the whole, these results might be interpreted as suggesting 
the existence of a superficial pessimism operating on a deeper-lying 
optimism. The pessimism is indicated by the fact that it is easier 
to pass from strong liking to strong disliking than to go in the 
reverse direction, and by the fact that it is harder to change at all 
a judgment of extreme disliking than a judgment of extreme liking. 
At the moment, our observers were more eed to abandon their likes 


than their dislikes. But in the long run, the tendency was towards 
optimism; the observers inclined to recur to their original likes 
more than to their original dislikes, and to be more lastingly influenced 
by the favorable changes which they had effected in their reactions 
to the colors than by the unfavorable changes. 

We may next consider the methods which they used to bring about 
the changes. By far the most frequently used method was the one 
which we have called ‘imaginary context. The color was thought 
of in an imaginary setting different from the actual one. In 32% of 
the entire 954 experiments, altering the context produced a change 
in the affective judgment. For example, the shade of red was judged 
5 at first; imagining it in wall paper lowered its pleasantness to 2. 
Where this method of altering the affective judgments was used, 
it produced marked changes. Of the changes amounting to 6 points, 
50% were due to altered context; of those amounting to five points, 
46%; of those amounting to four points, 40%; of those amounting 
to three points, 39%; of those amounting to two points, 30%; of 
those amounting to one point 24%. It was a little more effective in 
raising than in lowering the affective values, but the difference was 
not marked (average, 40% of raising, 36% of lowering). 

A particular form of altered context, applicable only to color sen- 
sations, is the imugining the color in combination with some other 
cclor. In 17.7% of the 954 experiments, the affective value of the 
colors was changed by this method. It was less effective in pro- 
ducing six point changes than other forms of altered context: 
21% of the six point changes were due to this cause, 29% of the 
five point changes; 20% of the four point changes, 22% of the three 
point changes, 20% of the two point changes, and 5.9% of the one 
point changes. It was somewhat more effective in lowering the 
affective value of the colors than in raising it (average, 20.6 of 
raising, 26.9% of lowering). 

Still another form of altered context consists in imagining a 
greater or less amount of the color. In 4.2% of the total number 
of experiments the change of affective value was due to imagining 
the color in greater quantity; in only one of these 41 cases was the 
effect thus produced that of raising affective value. Imagining the 
quantity of a color to be increased nearly always lowers its pleasant- 
ness. This influence is most effective in producing slight changes 
of affective value; it caused no six point changes, 4.8% of the five 
point changes, 128% of the four point changes, 9.6% of the three 
point changes, 10% of the two point changes, 18.7% of the one point 
changes. In only two percent of the total number of experiments 
was the affective value of a color altered by imagining less of it; 
obviously because of the small size of the bits of color shown. The 
effect of lessening the amount of the color in imagination was 
only in one case an increase of the affective value, the change then 
amounting to one point. The greatest effectiveness of this device 
was in raising the pleasantness two points, 10% of the cases of 
such raising being due to its influence. 

The effect of shift of attention, the voluntary direction of attention 
to some disagreeable aspect of the color, was shown almost entirely 
through a direction of attention to some agreeable or disagreeable 
association with the color. Although this involves the use of elements 
not actually presented in the color itself, it cannot be said to constitute 


a transformation of reality in the sense that altered context does. 
It is a recollection of actual experience. Recall of associations with 
the color was the controlling influence in 14.1% of all the experi- 
ments, and had its maximum effectiveness in the case of large changes 
in affective value, and it was markedly more influential in raising 
than in lowering pleasantness. Of the six point changes towards 
pleasantness, 33% were due to associations; of the six point changes 
towards unpleasantness, 33%; of the five point changes toward 
pleasantness, 15.8%; of the five point changes toward unpleasantness, 
7%; of the four point changes toward pleasantness, 31%; of the four 
point changes toward unpleasantness, 11.2%; of the three point 
changes toward pleasantness, 25%; of the three point changes toward 
unpleasantness, 18%; of the two point changes toward pleasantness, 
25%; of the two point changes toward unpleasantness, 10%; of the 
one point changes toward pleasantness, 17%; of the one point changes 
toward unpleasantness, 12.5%. The average percentage for increas- 
ing pleasantness was thus 24.4; for decreasing pleasantness, 15.3. 
This fact, that st és easier to recall pleasant than unpleasant asso- 
ciations with colors, is in accord with a point established previously’ 
in our laboratory, namely, that when the affective value of a color 
changes spontaneously during fixation for one minute, increase of 
its pleasantness is more likely to be due to association than is decrease 
of its pleasantness. 

The colors, being such simple objects, did not in themselves present 
enough variety of aspect to allow the shift of attention from agreeable 
to disagreeable features or the reverse. The nearest approach to 
such a process was shown in the case of 17.6% of the one point 
drops in pleasantness, which the observers ascribed to finding colors 

‘insipid.’ It is hard to decide whether these cases do not come under 
the next head, that of affective adaptation. 

This influence was exercised in 2.2% of all the experiments. It 
had very little power to produce marked changes in judgments of 
affective value, and what power it had in connection with such changes 
was to lower pleasantness. In 2.3% of the six point drops in affective 
value it was the cause at work, and in 1.17% of the five point drops. 
Its effectiveness was oftener shown gn the case of the slight changes, 
where it brought about both increased and lowered pleasantness; 
of the two point drops it was responsible for 5.6%: of the one point 
rises, for 13.3%; of the one point drops, for 14.7%. Probably the 
slight influence of affective adaptation in these experiments is due 
to the mildness of the emotional reactions involved. 

Finally, true compensation, the deliberate assumption of the opposite 
affective attitude, was used by only one of our observers, and by 
her only three times. She raised the value of one color from 1 to 3 
* just by trying suggestion,’ and lowered that of two from 6 to 5 by 

‘concentrating on getting them down.’ It is easy to —— that 
this method, so useful in ordinary life, would naturally play little 
part in conditions where the affective state is not pn a mild, but 
accompanied merely by simple motor expressions. One may assume 

1 “The tendency of associated ideas is to raise the pleasantness of 
a color.” Washburn and Crawford: Fluctuations in the Affective 
Value of Colors during Fixation for One Minute. This Journal, 
22, 1911, 579-582. 


hatred in order to counteract love, for example, because hatred may 
be expressed by a great variety of movements, by torrents of words, 
by forcible actions, and when these voluntary movements are set in 
operation, there is a fair chance that the deeper organic movements 
associated with them may come into play and the emotion really be 
transformed, But expressing one’s like or dislike of a color is so 
mild and simple a motor process, that its voluntary performance can 
have no very profound effect. 


Der Geruch. By Hans Henninc. Leipzig, Barth, 1916, viii, 533 pp. 

Henning’s notable contribution to the psychology of smell first ap- 
peared in the Zeitschrift fiir Psychologie. Its parts are scattered 
through various numbers, beginning with the one dated October, 
1915 and ending with that dated September,,1916. The appendix of 
the book contains not only a special study of the sense of smell in 
ants but also a very important discussion of taste-qualities. Both 
these papers appeared in the number of the Zeitschrift dated February, 
1916. The bound volume contains a few additional notes, a name- 
index and an index to the scents discussed. 

In the opinion of the reviewer, Henning’s work marks the beginning 
of a new era in the study of smell and probably also in that of taste. 
In his treatment of his predecessors, Henning is a ruthless—in fact, 
a very uncivil—iconoclast. To change the figure, he forgets that if 
the work of Zwaardemaker, Nagel and Aronsohn had not been done, 
he would have had to break some quite rocky ground which, as a 
matter of fact, he has had only to plough over and to plant anew. 
Nevertheless, one is reluctantly compelled to admit that the authors 
of our standard text-books will have to rewrite ex radice their chap- 
ters on smell, chapters based for the most part on the conclusions of 
Zwaardemaker in his Physiologie des Geruchs, published twenty-six 
years ago. Twenty-six years make more than half the life-time of 
experimental psychology, and Henning’s criticisms not only are search- 
ingly destructive but also carry full conviction. This conviction is 
half dismaying and half comforting to anyone who has tried faithfully 
but unsuccessfully to reproduce the results of Zwaardemaker’s com- 
pensation and exhaustion experiments or to obtain definite evidence 
for the Linnaean classification of odors—adopted by Zwaardemaker 
(be it said) not as final but as one feature of an experimental pro- 

The number of Henning’s experiments and the expertness of his 
subjects, in which he has the better of all other experimenters in 
his field, lend great weight to his positive conclusions. The writer 
confesses that, when she reviewed early in 1916 (in the Psychological 
Bulletin) the first instalment of his work, she was antagonized by 
his derisive treatment of earlier experimenters. She also confesses 
to lacking the wide and exact knowledge of biology and organic 
chemistry which are necessary for a reliable evaluation of some of 
Henning’s most important findings. But from the experimentalist’s 
point of view, she cannot forbear saying again that one looks almost 
in vain in his pages for precise details of the procedure employed in 
particular groups of experiments. One canon of scientific investi- 
gation Henning certainly violates to some extent; he seldom makes 
it possible for convert or critic to reproduce the minutiae of his ex- 
perimental conditions. To this criticism on his work in classification 
he has replied by saying (p. 360): “Ich finde, zum Experiment geniigt 
eine Flasche mit Riechstoff, die jeder kennt.” With this remark anyone 
who has worked much with olfactometers must have some sympathy. 



Another peculiarity, which seems unfortunate in so polemic a writer 
as Henning, is that he rarely reduces the introspective data obtained 
from his subjects to statistical form and does not mention, except 
to explain away, instances in which their reports conflicted with his 
conclusions. For the most part, his method of procedure is to state 
his conclusions dogmatically, but amply to illustrate them from the 
reports of his observers. He says very truly (p. 360) that the critical 
introspection of trained psychologists [such as he numbered among 
his observers]. is more valuable than statistics taken on all the stu- 
dents in the University, and that the statistical procedure, about which 
science in America has so far raved (immer noch krankt), has by no 
means the precision of a qualitative analysis. But the point is not 
that his experiments were deficient in number or faulty in method— 
the writer’s belief is quite to the contrary—but that he gives us little 
or no inkling of ever obtaining inconvenient data, and that he thus 
fails to create an impression of taking a dispassionate attitude toward 
his own work in comparison with that of others. Nevertheless— 
whatever omissions of matter or faults of manner Henning’s book 
may show—it not only represents an enormous amount of work both 
in laboratory and in library, but also represents the application of a 
keen and original mind to a line of research which has long badly 
needed and really merited more enthusiastic pursuit. 

Even though a large part of Henning’s work consists in a critical 
examination of the ‘literature,’ it is impossible in the space allotted 
to summarize his book at once completely and clearly. It seems 
best, therefore, to confine the remainder of this review to indicating 
in the briefest possible fashion the character of his subjects, material 
and apparatus, to stressing two or three important points which he 
makes in regard to method in smell experiments, and to stating 
intelligibly those of his conclusions which most strikingly contravert 
the findings of earlier authorities. 

His experiments were made at Frankfort on the Main, where he 
was Privatdogent at the time his book was written. He made more 
or less extended series of individual experiments on thirteen grown 
persons and three children. He also made certain group-experiments 
on forty-six university students. His really most expert subject was 
his wife, a trained psychologist, who conducted experiments in which 
he himself had the chance to serve as observer. Of the fourteen chief 
subjects (including Henning), four were psychologists by profession, 
six in all were trained psychologists, and ten in all had at least an 
elementary knowledge of psychology. Of the professional psycholo- 
gists two—Henning himself and Professor Cornelius—were thoroughly 
grounded in chemistry, the latter being especially well-acquainted with 
odorous materials. Of the other subjects, one had considerable knowl- 
— of chemistry, and another was familiar with clinical laboratory- 

In his chief series of experiments Henning used 415 different 
scents, selected to represent the whole qualitative range of natural 
odors and including in about equal numbers chemically pure substances 
(such as essential oils) and natural scents (such as dried herbs). 
He also submitted the odors of daily life to systematic examination 
and even made excursions with his subjects to the Zodlogical Garden 
and to other places rich in smells in order that no natural odor essen- 
tially different from the 415 specimens might escape him. He also 
made some use of fifty-one odorous trade-articles, such as perfumes, 
offcinal preparations and ink. He kept many of his scents at hand 


in five different concentrations. On the average, in his qualitative ex- 
periments, about ten smell-exposures were made to a subject at a 
sitting. For olfactometric purposes he used six different devices, 
including various forms of Zwaardemaker’s olfactometer (which he 
criticizes severely). 

Not the least valuable part of Henning’s contribution consists in 
the following methodological points. First, the quality of a scent 
cannot be fully appreciated by “monorhinic” smelling, smelling with 
one nostril only, which is unnatural. From this it follows that mixture 
of qualities by “dichorhinic” smelling—smelling one with one nostril 
and another with the other—is unsatisfactory. “ Dirhinic” smelling 
alone gives clear-cut perception. Secondly, reliable judgments with 
regard to smell-similarities can be obtained only from observers who 
do not know the nature of the scents with which they are dealing. 
Henning distinguishes between the true odor (Gegebenheitsgeruch), 
which is obtained by the observer who is smelling with closed eyes 
and is ignorant of the nature of the scent, and the object-smell (Gegen- 
standsgeruch), which (like color) is projected upon the object from 
which it is known to come and is apt to be distorted by associative 
supplementing. Both upon this point and upon that of monorhinic 
smelling such experience as the present writer possesses is fully in 
accord with Henning’s. 

The most revolutionary of Henning’s conclusions have to do (1) 
with the interrelation of smell-qualities, (2) with the phenomena of 
smell-mixture, (3) with the phenomena of smell-exhaustion, and (4) 
with the qualities of taste. In the discussion of these conclusions 
some of his other findings will incidentally appear. 

(1) He holds that smells, like colors, constitute a tridimensional 
manifold, although smell-qualities are related to one another in quite 
another fashion than are color-qualities. In the first place, the group- 
ings of odors must be represented by a prism rather than by a double 
pyramid. Of this prism, the triangular faces are equilateral and the 
rectangular faces are squares. At the angles should stand the most 
typical smells of his six fundamental classes. At the corners of one 
triangle should stand respectively the most typical flowery, fruity and 
putrid smells; at the corners of the other should stand the typical 
spicy smell on the same edge with the flowery smell on the other 
triangle, the typical resinous (harzig) smell on the same edge with 
the fruity, and the typical burning (brenzlich) smell on the same edge 
with the putrid. He regards violet as the most typical smell of the 
flowery class, lemon of the fruity, sulphuretted hydrogen of the putrid, 
nutmeg of the spicy, frankincense of the resinous, and tar of the 
burning. Transition-smells lead from every class into every other; 
the classes which stand diagonally opposite to each other on the square 
faces of the prism are to be regarded as connected with each other 
by diagonal lines across these faces. Instances of transition-smells are 
as follows: (1) between flowery and fruity, geranium and sandal- 
wood; between flowery and putrid, the smell of decaying flowers, and 
between fruity and putrid, the smell of decaying fruit; between 
flowery and spicy, thyme and vanilla; between fruity and resinous the 
various piney odors; between putrid and burning, the ammoniacal 
animal odors; between flowery and resinous, the smells of the fra- 
grant gums; between fruity and spicy, the mints; between putrid 
and spicy, garlic; between putrid and resinous, fish-scales; and be- 
tween burning and all the remaining classes (theoretically at least) 
the smells obtained by burning scents of these classes. But, in the 


second place, odors differ from colors in the fact that likeness between 
smells does not correspond with an overlapping of the physiological 
processes concerned. Henning sets his face against specific energies 
in the realm of smell, against original smells comparable to the Urfar- 
ben of the color theories. It is only by courtesy that we can say 
that any natural smell is counterfeited, that the smell of violets, for 
example, is counterfeited in the perfume industry. The smells at 
the angles of the prism are indeed related to one another like the 
colors at the angles of the pyramid, but the smells on any one edge 
or diagonal are related to one another like the tones in the tonal 
series. A mixture of two such smells does not result in a simple 
blend like the orange obtained by mixing red and yellow. In fact, 
the prism cannot be made to illustrate both the transition from one 
simple smell to another through other simple smells (for example that 
from lemon to nutmeg through certain minty odors) and also the tran- 
sition from one to the other as produced by mixing the two in vary- 
ing proportions. For if mixtures are transitional between two smells 
on the surface of the pyramid, they cannot logically be placed upon 
a line drawn through its substance. The whole surface of the prism, 
however, and not merely its edges and diagonals, must be thought of 
as occupied by simple smells localised according to their two-sided, 
three-sided or four-sided resemblances. Thus, all simple inorganic 
scents would stand somewhere on the fruity-putrid, burning-resinous 
face. The inside of the prism may be vaguely imagined as reserved 
for unblended mixtures of smells on different faces. 

Henning bases his classification primarily on the descriptions given, 
and the confusions made, by his subjects in extended series of experi- 
ments in which they were instructed carefully and without haste to 
describe the qualities of scents presented. These experiments were 
supplemented by others in which the observers were given a number 
of scents and were required to arrange the similar ones in series and 
to throw out the others. He finds secondary (but probably very real) 
support in organic chemistry. Assuming that the quality of an odor 
depends not on the composition but on the pattern of the scent-molecule 
(which is probably true), he points out a striking sameness of pattern 
in the benzol rings of the aromatics belonging to any one of his six 
classes, and also the transitional character of the patterns correspond- 
ing to transitional smells. Henning scouts any connection between 
odor and the periodic system. Odor is as much a constitutive prop- 
erty of the molecule as is fluorescence. 

The replacing of the linear or one-dimensional grouping of the 
Linnaeus-Zwaardemaker classification by a tridimensional grouping 
appeals strongly to the present writer. An instance of the difficulites 
which crop up out of the former classification is this: a short-cut 
apparently exists between the camphor-turpentine and the lemon-rose 
subgroups (under the “aromatic” group) beside the recognized but 
longer path through the spices and the mints. Years ago, in per- 
sonal conversation with the writer, Zwaardemaker noted the resem- 
blance between oil of orange and pure turpentine, and also the diffi- 
culty created by the many-phased smell of oil of juniper, which Hen- 
ning places on the flowery-fruity-resinous-spicy face of his prism. 

(2) Henning denies any analogy between the phenomena of colcr- 
mixture and those of smell-mixture, which are rather parallel to the 
phenomena of tonal fusion. When certain smells are mixed, the result 
is indeed comparable to the most perfectly welded chords, which 
Stumpf admits are simple in direct sensory experience. The best 


instances are such natural blends as one encounters in oil of juniper 
and such stable blends as one finds in the best artificial perfumes. 
When other odors are mixed, one may have rivalry or the suppression 
of one smell (or smells) by another. Compensation, the cancellation 
of one smell by another, is a myth. Henning experimented on forty- 
six university students with Zwaardemaker’s olfactometer and never 
obtained a single instance. Alleged cases are explicable by fatigue 
or by exhaustion in the first inhalations of all the free scent-particles 
in the olfactometer. The phenomenon certainly never occurs in free 
air. Another possibility, which is best realized in dichorhinic smelling, 
is the “coincidence-smell,” in which the two odors are held apart by 
a strain of attention (Aufmerksamkeitsspannung) and yet have a cer- 
tain unitary character. Still another possibility, which of course de- 
pends on dichorhinic smelling, is the “ duality-smell,” in which the 
two components are clearly localized, the one in the right nostril and 
the other in the left. Blends which are perfect at the first instant of 
mixture are not necessarily stable. In a little while one may get 
the coincidence-smell or the duality smell, or one may succeed by 
shift of attention in making now one and now another smell stand 
out on a background made up of the rest. This is the phenomenon 
of the “successive smell.” In general, the more similar the smells 
are, the more perfect their fusion is; within limits their intensity 
makes little difference. 

(3) Henning holds that the phenomena of smell-exhaustion have 
been exaggerated. He urges with justice that the nervous apparatus 
of smell should be no more subject to fatigue than is that of the 
eye or ear. The terminal apparatus of smell may indeed be subject 
to fatigue, but strong smells cannot be made to disappear merely by 
exhaustion. Cases of apparent exhaustion are largely explicable by 
failure of attention to weak and persistent stimuli. Moreover, the 
effect of fatigue upon the sensory epithelium cannot as yet be dis- 
tinguished clearly from the toxic effect, local and general, of long 
continued smelling. Henning describes in detail the toxic effects, 
marked and lasting for days, produced on one of his subjects by 
smelling in quick succession 150 different scents, from which sub- 
stances known to be poisonous had been excluded. The observation 
was confirmed by experiences with other subjects. The present writer 
has made similar observations in the case of subjects (particularly 
herself) who were memorizing long series of smells. But in her opin- 
ion, Henning makes too pathological a matter of smell-exhaustion, 
so-called, and also exaggerates the rdle played by the failure of “sen- 
sory attention” in producing insensitiveness to a scent to which one 
is long exposed. May not smell-exhaustion be comparable with 
adaptation in the case of other senses? And may not this adaptation 
be of peripheral origin? 

Henning maintains that when sensitiveness to a given smell is dulled 
by exhaustion, this dullness exists for that particular odor only; 
although, if attention has weakened, it will be poor also for any very 
similar odor. Aronsohn’s method of attempting to arrive at a physio- 
logical classification of smells through the effect of exhaustion by 
one scent upon sensitiveness to another is absolutely valueless. If 
Aronsohn (says Henning on p. 267) had known the chemical com- 
position of the scents he was using he would never have published 
his results, for in some instances in which he declared that he could 
smell one scent but not another, the odorous principle of the two 
was exactly the same. The differentiation of different parts of the 


olfactory membrane to correspond with different smell-qualities is 
rendered highly improbable by the patchy and asymmetrical distribu- 
tion of the membrane in the smell-clefts of the two nostrils. Henning 
points out, it may be said in passing, that the scent-molecules must 
penetrate into the epithelium and there quickly suffer a chemical 
decomposition such as to make them odorless, else every smell would 
persist indefinitely. 

(4) No account of Henning’s revolutionary findings would be at 
all complete without at least a brief notice of his taste-tetrahedron. 
He holds that sweet, salt, sour and bitter are not the only simple 
tastes, but stand related to one another as do the colors at the angles 
of the pyramid and the smells at the angles of the prism. Instances 
of transition-tastes are these: between salt and sour, bicarbonate of 
soda; between salt and sweet, the alkaline tastes; between salt and 
bitter, potassium bromide; between sour and sweet, acetate of lead; 
between sour and bitter, potassium suphate; and between sweet and 
bitter, acetone. The phenomena of taste-mixture are closely com- 
parable to those of smell-mixture. 

This review does scant justice to the wealth of material in Hen- 
ning’s book, material which must be of great interest alike to the psy- 
chologist, the biologist and the chemist. It should give new impetus 
to experimenters who have put away the scent-bottle and the olfac- 
tometer in despair of reproducing or in any way confirming authorita- 
tive results which they have not had Henning’s (somewhat unhallowed) 
courage to reject. 

Wellesley College E. A. McC. GAMBLE 

The following books have also been received: 

W. Bruun. Theosophie und Anthroposophie. Leipzig and Berlin, 
B. G. Teubner, 1921. Pp. 108. 

J. Coun. Fiihrende Denker. Vierte Auflage. Leipzig and Berlin. 
B. B. Teubner, 1921. Pp. 117. 

B. ErpMANN. Grundziige der Reproduktionspsychologie. Berlin and 
Leipzig, W. de Gruyter & Co., 1920. Pp. viii., 186. $1.80. 

S. Freup. Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie. Vierte Auflage. 
Leipzig and Wien, F. Deuticke, 1920. Pp. vii. 104. 

J. L. Des Bancets. Introduction 4 la psychologie: Vinstinct et l’éEmo- 
tion. Paris, Payot & Cie., 1921. Pp. 286. 

D. I. BusHnet, Jr. Native Cemeteries and Forms of Burial East of 
the Mississippi. Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 71; 
Washington, D. C., Government Printing Office, 1920. Pp. 160. 

A. GemMeEtui. Le dottrine moderne della delinquenza. Milan, Societa 
Editrice ‘Vita e Pensiero,’ 1920. Pp. xvi., 212. 

C. Reap.—The Origin of Man and of his Superstitions. Cambridge, 
The University Press, 1920. Pp. xii., 350. 

M. Hamsurcer. Vom Organismus der Sprache und von der Sprache 
des Dichters. Leipzig, F. Meiner, 1920. Pp. vii., 189. 

C. Puatr. The Psychology of Thought and Feeling. New York, 
Dodd, Mead & Co., 1921. Pp. x., 290. 

C. Baupouin. Suggestion and Autosuggestion. Translated by E. and 
C. Paul. New York, Dodd Mead & Co., 1921. Pp. 349. 

L. Vivanti. Principii di Etica. Rome, P. Maglione & C. Strini, 
1920. Pp. viii. 314. 

A. S. Epwarps. The Fundamental Principles of Learning and Study. 
Baltimore, Warwick & York, 1920. Pp. 239. 



The International Journal of Psychoanalysis. Directed by Sicmunp 
Freup. Edited by Ernest Jones. London, Internat. Psychoana- 
lytic Press, 1920. Vol. I, Part I, 124 pp.; Pt. II, 97 pp. 

The most important recent publication in the field of psychoanalysis 
is the above journal, which appears at a time when, owing to the pre- 
sumed disturbed economic and political condition of Austria, the Zeit- 
schrift, Imago, and Jahrbuch show signs of languishing in quality, 
quantity, and frequency of appearance. And as Freud himself appears 
as co-editor and contributor, and especially as England, since the 
appearance of Trotter’s publication, has such a galaxy of able and 
original devotees of the cult, the center of the movement may hence- 
forth be gradually transferred to London. This journal will be 
a godsend to all English readers interested in this cult if it can main- 
tain the high level on which it has been begun. 

The first two parts contain an excellent review of J. J. Putnam’s 
contributions, and two articles by Freud, in one of which he amplifies 
the thesis that there have been three great scientific movements: the 
first marked by Copernicus; the second by Darwin; and the third 
by the discovery and exploitation of the unconscious. There are very 
good reviews of literature, especially of Jones’ “Recent Advances in 
Psychoanalysis ;” accounts of the proceedings of societies, etc. The 
journal is well printed and so well edited that it cannot fail to be a 
helpful and stimulating competitor not only of the Zeitschrift but 
also of our own excellent Psychoanalytic Review. 

A General Introduction to Psychoanalysis. By Sicmunp Frevup. N. Y., 
Boni and Liveright, 1920. 406 pp. 

Freud here, in a course of twenty-eight lectures, attempts to present 
the outlines of his system to laymen, and divides his material into 
three parts: I. The Psychology of Error; II. The Dream; III. The 
General Theory of the Neuroses. The first part is, to our thinking, 
excessively and sometimes tediously elemental and prolix; but as the 
author advances into the subject his interest increases, and the latter 
part of the book will be found illuminating even to adepts. It is espe- 
cially significant as being the first attempt the author has made to state 
his conclusions in a systematic and coherent form; for his voluminous 
previous publications have been scattered, so that it has been difficult 
to find some of them, and a few are out of print. Particularly 
interesting in this publication are the full and careful definitions of 
the points of difference between Freud’s views and those of both Adler 
and Jung and the Zurich school. It is gratifying to note that the 
spirit of this discussion is well-tempered and philosophic, and without 
the bitter personalities that marked the inception of these divergences, 
which were so fortunate for the science of psychoanalysis but such 
a strain upon the early friendship of their respective leaders. It 
would be a calamity if Freud’s repudiation of his more independent 
disciples should be as bitter as Wundt’s was of his followers who 



established the so-called Wiirzburg school, which he was as unable 
to follow as Freud is to accept the bold and often vague speculations 
of Jung. A recent writer has celeverly attempted to psychoanalyze 
these three leaders, making Freud the feminine; Adler, the masculine; 
and Jung the combining type,—and with much plausibility, so far as 
the first two are concerned. 

Papehepeteits. By Epwarp J. Kempr. St. Louis, C. V. Mosby Co., 
1920. 762 pp. 

This indefatigable worker, the most prolific and original American 
thinker in this field, here brings together his own apercus, hitherto 
scattered through various publications, into a more or less systematic 
whole, with very copious case-histories and eighty-seven illustrations. 
In its original form, Freudianism was developed from purely clinical 
data, with no more implications of a physiological background than 
introspection itself. But Kempf has attempted to supply this in 
what he calls the autonomic functions and gives us, with great clever- 
ness, a correlation of these activities, including of course those of 
the endocrine glands, with the Freudian mechanisms. Higier in his 
“Vegetative Neurology,” Eppinger and Hess in “ Vagotonia” and 
others have been working in the same direction; but Kempf was bolder 
and went far beyond these men in applying the findings in this field 
to psychopathology. Everyone interested in the general field of psy- 
choanalysis will find this volume indispensable. 

The Elements of Practical Psychoanalysis. By Paut Bovusrretp. 
London, Paul, Trench, Triibner Co., 1920. 276 pp. 

Of all the introductions to Freudianism which deal with elements, 
this is the latest and the best. The author dissents from Freud only 
with regard to his complete determinism as opposed to free will, his 
assumption that all dreams have the same causative factors, and thirdly 
his theory “that the sexual is the fundamental desire underlying all 
desires and emotions.” He gives us a convenient glossary, but no 
index of his chapters, which are as follows: The Unconscious Mind, 
Desires and Psychic Energy, The Evolution of Erotic Desire, The 
Fate of Erotic Impulses and Aims, Parental Complexes, Narcissism, 
Dreams, The Fundamental Desires, Technique of Psychoanalysis (with 
an excellent account of the word-reaction method), Analysis of a 
Case of Compulsion Neurosis with Paranoid Symptoms, Criticisms 
of Psychoanalysis, Its Scope. Although this work is chiefly addressed 
to physicians who are laymen in psychoanalysis, it is of great interest 
to the general reader, and even the specialist will find much help in 
the judicious perspective and in the relationships which the author 
brings out. 

Mysticism, Freudianism, and Scientific Psychology. By Knicut Dun- 
Lap. St. Louis, C. V. Mosby Co., 1920. 173 pp. 

The author groups Freudianism, spiritism, and Christian Science, 

“a siren trinity,” as kindred forms of mysticism, and an “ assault 
upon the life of the biological sciences which psychology alone is 
capable of warding off.” In Chapter II, pp. 44 to 111, he gives a 
resumé of some of the Freudian positions, with quotations that show 
that he has made more effort than most critics of the system to under- 
stand it, which would serve as a good introduction for the beginner 
to a very limited portion of the field. In the long concluding chapter 


he presents the “foundations of scientific psychology;” the chapter 
is largely expository of his views of awareness, apart from its objects, 
as the essential thing. We are told practically nothing about any of 
the Freudian mechanisms except repression and Verschiebung, and 
something of course of the Oedipus and Electra complex; he does not 
discuss infantile sexuality, sublimation, ambivalence, compensation, in- 
troversion and extroversion at all. Nor is there any delineation of 
the profound differences between Freud, Adler, and the Zurich school. 
There is little allusion to the later literature, and almost nothing of 
the applications of psychoanalysis to religion, literature, history, biog- 
raphy, etc. Evidently the author calls everything that deals with the 
unconscious, mysticism; just as the critics of Weismann called his 
constructions of metamicroscopic biological units, mysticism. What 
the latter, Christian Science, spiritism, etc. really are and mean, a 
subject which he rightly admits is a part of his programme, he un- 
fortunately defers to a later publication. 

In this book, but particularly in his also very well written “ Personal 
Beauty and Racial Betterment,” the careful reader cannot fail to see 
that the author has himself been not only greatly stirnulated but also 
profoundly influenced by psychoanalysis. Beauty in woman he con- 
ceives as the possibility of motherhood; and in the second part he 
characterizes various anti-eugenic tendencies in the present, such as 
the withdrawal from the function of child-bearing of women who 
enter gainful occupations and those who go on the stage, etc. These 
views are effectively and very wholesomely presented; but the author 
dos not seem to be aware of the fact that he is simply amplifying 
what is implicit in the whole psychoanalytic position, viz., that the 
chief function of the race is to transmit the sacred torch of life. 

To our minds these booklets are distinctly the best of the author’s 
always meritorious contributions to psychology, and he ought to 
recognize that Freudianism has been to him a very helpful mental 
stimulus. Moreover, in the last part of his Mysticism book he cer- 
tainly points out diversities in what he calls scientific psychology which 
are as many and great as those in the system he criticizes; so that 
the thoughtful reader will close the book with the impression that 
“scientific psychology” is yet far from being scientific, because lack- 
ing a consensus ever in so fundamental a thing as the definition and 
use of terms. Consciousness, which is his muse, has itself often been 
called first of the hetaerae; and those who worship at her shrine 
conceive everything unconscious not only as entirely outside the pale 
but as dangerous to scientific orthodoxy, as Bolshevism is thought 
to be to all forms of well-organized and effective government. 

The Adolescent Girl. By Puytirs BLancHarp. N. Y., Moffat, Yard 
and Co., 1920. 242 pp. 

The psyche of the budding girl (Backfisch, tendron, “ flapper”) has 
seemed about the very most unknown of all the great domains of 
psychology. Woman has played a great role in culture history, from 
the days of the Pythonesses down to the Fox sisters, who gave the 
initial momentum to spiritualism in this country, and the Creary girls, 
who were the chief theme of investigation in the early years of the 
English Psychical Research Society. The author writes with a very 
wide knowledge of the literature of the subject, and has had much 
personal contact with girls in the pin-feather stage of their develop- 
ment. The book is therefore in some respects unique in its field, and 
is not only an excellent summary of what has already been done but 


also makes important original suggestions at many points. The chap- 
ter headings are: The Broader View, The Sexual and Maternal In- 
stincts of the Adolescent Girl, The Adolescent Conflict, The Sublima- 
tion of the Libido, Pathological Manifestations of Libido in Ado- 
lescent Girls, The Adolescent Girl and Love, and The Adolescent Girl 
and Her Future. 

Probleme der Mystik und ihrer Symbolik. By H. Superer. Wien, 
H. Heller, 1914. 283 pp. 

Here again, as in his great work on symbolism, the author takes 
his text from an old Rosicrucian manuscript on the parabola, and on 
the basis of its exegesis gives us a restatement of his views on the 
meaning of dreams and Mdarchen; and then attempts a specific psycho- 
analytic interpretation of his text, discussing more fully alchemy, 
the hermetic art, Rosicrucianism, free-masonry, introversion and re- 
birth, mysticism, and the royal art. This volume, although written 
in 1914, has only just reached this country, and so is included among 
the books that have appeared in 1920. 

Man’s Unconscious Passion. By Witrrip Lay. N. Y., Dodd, Mead 
and Co., 1920. 246 pp. 

The author here gives us his third book, which is, like his pre- 
ceding volumes, interesting and instructive; but while it contains much 
suggestive material, it presents no essentially new points of view. 
The chapters are as follows: The Total Sensation, Conscious and 
Unconscious Passions, Affection Is Not Passion, Insight, The Transfer 
of Passion, The Emotion Age. 

The Problem of the Nervous Child. By Exina Evans. N. Y., Dodd, 
Mead and Co., 1920. 299 pp. 

The author is an experienced social worker who has for years 
come into close contact with childhood and has studied with Jung 
(who writes a very appreciative introduction to the book). She 
here gives us a picture of a Freudian child, with copious and very 
interesting illustrations. It is far and away more insightful, not only 
into the life of the child normal and abnormal, but even into psycho- 
analysis, at least from the Zurich point of view, than the child-psy- 
chology of Hug-Hellmuth which appeared a year or more ago. Despite 
the delicacy of some of the topics treated, there is litt!e or nothing 
that could shock the most sensitive reader, so that we have in Mrs. 
Evans’ pages a presentation of child-psychology which not only all 
parents but all psychoanalysts as well will profit by reading. 

Sex ~¥ Life. By W. F. Rosie. Boston, Richard G. Badger, 1920. 
424 pp. 

This book, by the author of “Rational Sex Ethics” and “ Further 
Investigations in Rational Sex Ethics,” is the largest and most impor- 
tant of his works. While not specifically Freudian, it would probably 
never have been written, and certainly never printed or read, but 
for the greater freedom of discussion and the fructifying new ideas 
that have come to us from Vienna and Zurich. The author begins 
with a very frank sex autobiography, advocates a correspondence 
school of sex education, and then proceeds to discuss rational sex 
ethics for parents, for young men, for young women, and for mar- 
ried people. There are copious and well-chosen references to suitable 


literature for every class, and plenty of case-histories and glossaries. 
Dr. Robie in all his writings minimizes the evils of self-abuse. He 
paints very attractive pictures of the felicity of happy and fecund 
marriages. His own experience has been long, rich, and very varied, 
and he has learned how to draw lessons from it. His cases are not 
only interesting in themselves but are all the more so because drawn 
from typical New England communities with two characteristics that 
seem rather salient: first, the scrupulosity of the New England con- 
science; and secondly, infertility. The author’s method of analyzing 
his cases is far simpler than that of the Freudians and seems gen- 
erally to have been extremely effective. It may not perhaps be 
improper to add here that in his own personal family life he illus- 
trates an exceptionally high type of living, and certainly seems to 
have found the way to a happy life and pointed it out to many others. 

Repressed Emotions. By Isapor Corrat. N. Y., Brentano’s, 1920. 
215 pp. 

This is an interesting but rather light work which contains some 
interesting case-histories and some excellent generalizations. Coriat 
compares Freud’s discovery of the unconscious to that of Harvey of 
the circulation of the blood, which made modern physiology possible. 
His chapters are: The Meaning of Repressed Emotion, Repressed 
Emotions in Primitive Society, Repressed Emotions in Literature, The 
Sublimation of Repressed Emotions, The Development of Psycho- 
analysis, The Depth of the Unconscious, A Fairy Tale from the 

Psychoanalysis: A Brief Account of the Freudian Theory. By Bar- 
BARA Low. N. Y., Harcourt, Brace, and Howe, 1920. 199 pp. 

This epitome, prefaced and commended by Ernest Jones, is the 
briefest yet of the many introductions to Freudianism. The author 
treats, in successive chapters, the scope and significance of psycho- 
analysis; mental life, conscious and unconscious; reversions ; the 
dream; social and educational results. The work is clearly and 
admirably written. 

Friedrich Hebbel: ein psychoanalytischer Versuch. By Isapor Sap- 
GER. Wien, Deuticke, 1920. 374 pp. (Schriften zur angewandten 
Seelenkunde, Heft 18.) 

Sadger has added another to the nearly two-score psychoanalyses of 
great men in the above volume on Hebbel, the German poet and mystic. 
Psychoanalysis almost from the first has found in this writer’s ex- 
plorations into the depths of his own soul much material for quotation 
and comment; and Sadger’s painstaking work here shows that in 
both his life and literature Hebbel furnishes some of the most striking 
illustrations of the Freudian mechanisms, and this in copious detail, 
so that few individuals yet analyzed come as near as he to the ideal 
case of Gradiva; while, on the other hand, the rather distinct stages 
through which he passed serve almost as well for this purpose as 
Maeder’s study of Dante. 



This book tells the story of the plans laid by two British officers 
for escape from a prison camp in Asiatic Turkey. The first scheme, 
which took shape casually from some jesting trials of a home-made 
ouija board, was to convince the Turkish Commandant that the 
officers in question possessed mediumistic powers. It succeeded be- 
yond expectation; not only the Turks, but also the fellow-prisoners 
of the pretended mediums were convinced. “In the face of the most 
persistent and elaborate efforts to detect fraud,” writes the author, 
“it is possible to convert intelligent, scientific, and otherwise highly 
educated men to spiritualism, by means of the arts and methods 
employed by mediums’ in general.” More than that, these men may 
remain converted. “Eighteen months later, . . I had told [one 
of the converts] all our work had been fraudulent, and had quoted 
[an instance] to show how it was done. . . . The Convert smiled 
pityingly at me”—and proposed an explanation by unconscious tele- 
pathy! No wonder, then, that the Turks were impressed. Things 
went so far that the camp was to all intents and purposes governed 
by the ‘spook,’ who secured many privileges for the inmates. And 
the plan finally failed, not by its inherent weakness, but through the 
over-credulity of its victims: a counter-spook, brought on the scene 
in the interests of escape, grew by an unhappy accident all too power- 
ful; and it was the Commandant’s fear of this opposing power that 
wrecked the whole elaborate device. 

If, however, the first part of the book reads us an excellent lesson 
in applied psychology, the second part is even more instructive. The 
original plan, perforce abandoned, passed smoothly into another, a 
plan of release by way of pretended madness; the one officer became 
a ‘furious,’ the other a ‘melancholic.’ Here the risks were, of course, 
much greater than before, since the simulation must run the gauntlet 
not only of the local Turkish medical officers but also of the Paris- 
and-Vienna-and-Berlin-trained psychiatrists of Constantinople. The 
two men had been well coached at Yozgad by a fellow-prisoner, a 
physician of wide experience. They showed an astonishing endurance 
and persistence, and kept up an unremitting guard on their own conduct 
and on that of their visitors and attendants. The case-histories were 
also prepared with the utmost care and foresight. All the same, one 
wonders what might have happened if Mazhar Osman Bey had been 
less busy! Perhaps a psychiatrist may be persuaded to go over the 
data and tell us. This plan succeeded, and the officers were freed— 
just about a fortnight before the armistice with Turkey was signed. 
They had, nevertheless, the full satisfaction of success, and the record 
of their adventures is a valuable psychological document. E. B, T. 

1The Road to En-Dor: Being an Account of How Two Prisoners 
of War at Yozgac in Turkey Won their Way to Freedom. By E. H. 
Jones, Lt. I. A. R. O. With illustrations by C. W. Hill, Lt. R. A. F. 
New York, John Lane. MCMXX. Pp. xiii., 375. 


302 NOTES 


The Journal of Pierre Janet and Georges Dumas, interrupted by the 
war, began to appear again in January, 1920. With the reissue, the 
editors have taken a new departure. Without any thought of hostility 
to British and American psychologists, they desire to make their 
magazine “a Latin journal, appearing at the same time in all the 
Latin capitals, publishing articles written by Latin psychologists, and 
addressing itself to all Latin readers.” They have accordingly brought 
together an international staff, consisting of J. Ingenieros (Argentine), 
Van Biervliet and Decroly (Belgium), Austregesilo, M Bomfim, J. 
Moreira, A. Peixoto, F. da Rocha (Brazil) ; G. Marafion, A. Pi Sufier, 
S. Ramon y Cajal, R. Turréd (Spain) ; H. Bergson, Ch. Blondel, Chas- 
lin, Delacroix, Lalande, Lapicque, Piéron, Rabaud, Revault d’Allonnes, 
Séglas, H. Wallon (France); Boreas, Catsaras (Greece); Ferrari, 
Gemelli, Kiesow, Morselli, Ponzo, Rignano, Sante de Sanctis, Tanzi 
(Italy) ; Marinesco, Obregia, Radulesco-Motru (Rumania) ; and Bovet, 
Claparéde, Larguier des Bancels (Switzerland). Most of these names 
are already familiar to us; of the rest we shall hope to learn from 
the pages of the Journal. E. B. T. 


We have received the first (double) number of this journal, which 
is edited by Professor F. Kiesow of Turin and Professor A. Gemelli 
of Milan with the co-operation of V. Benussi (Padua), L. Botti 
(Turin) C. Colucci (Naples), S. de Sanctis (Rome), E. Morselli 
(Genoa) and M. Ponzo (Turin). The staff is both strong and repre- 

sentative, and the Archivio has our best wishes for the success that it 
will undoubtedly achieve. According to a prefatory Note to the 
Reader, the Rivista di psicologia, edited by Professor G. C. Ferrari 
of Bologna, will devote itself to the application of scientific psy- 
chology and to the popularisation of psychological results among the 
students of neighboring disciplines, while the Archivio will publish 
strictly scientific articles. The contents of the present issue are: 
F. Kiesow, Observations on the relation between two objects viewed 
separately by the two eyes; A. Gemelli and A. Galli, Researches on 
attention: i. A new method for the study of fluctuations of attention; 
V. Roncagli, Experimental investigations by the method of the maze; 
G. A. Elrington, The expression of the musical intervals; L. Botti, 
Psychological observations on the concept of the ‘last;’ F. Kiesow, 
A phenomenon of central representation (assimilative illusion); F. 
Kiesow, A forgotten experiment (Fechner’s rivalry between the dark 
field of a closed and the light field of an open eye); A Gemelli, G. 
Tessier and A. Galli, The perception of the position of the body and 
of its derangements: a contribution to the psychology of the aviator. 
General Review: A. Gemelli, The application of psychological methods 
to the study of aesthetics. Notes. i a-& 


In the spring of 1920 I met with a minor accident that gave oppor- 
tunity for observation of the sensations localized in the muscles when 
directly stimulated. The thumb and first finger of the left hand were 
cut almost completely through at the first phalange and the second 
or middle finger was completely severed through the second phalange. 
No pain was connected with the occurrence. As a matter of fact 

NOTES 303 

several seconds elapsed before the injury was called to my attention 
by the loss of the usual sensitivity of the tips of the thumb and fingers. 
The lacerations were cleansed with sterile water before the experi- 
mentation, in order that the sensations might not be clouded by the 
effects common with the use of most germicidal preparations. The 
flow of blood was effectually stopped and the surfaces of the wounds 
were kept fairly free during the series of observations. 

It was anticipated that any manipulation of the exposed surfaces 
would be painful to some extent; but pain was not observed, and 
adaptation was rapidly made to the new conditions. It was a rather 
excruciating feeling that was experienced, especially when large areas 
were stimulated by contact. The resultant sensations were at once 
recognized as possessing some of the qualities peculiar to the sub- 
cutaneous sensations, and it was attempted to take advantage of the 
circumstances to make an investigation of the nature of the sensa- 
tions originating in the muscles. 

The sensations resulting from the stimulation of the stump of the 
second digit and the proximal surfaces of the other two lacerations 
were very similar to the feeling ordinarily experienced when the skin 
is anaesthetised and pressure applied; but the resemblances were 
scarcely more noticeable than the differences. To compare the sen- 
sations directly does not convey an adequate conception of the nature 
of the sensations experienced when the muscle itself is stimulated. 
The sensations obtained in this manner were to some extent more 
intense, more noticeable, more distinct, and qualitatively somewhat 
different. The skin of the right forearm was anaesthetised and the two 
sensation-complexes were directly compared. Those arising in the 
bared muscles seemed to be more intimately related to the body, while 
the others were, comparatively, more aloof, more external, and seemed 
to be less a part of my ‘self’ than the former. The sensations originat- 
ing in the anaesthetised area were qualitatively more complex; al- 
though, when a large area was stimulated on the bared muscles, the 
quality seemed to become increasingly complex with an increase in 
area or pressure or with a violent manipulation. The sensations aris- 
ing from light stimulation of certain small areas on the exposed 
surfaces by the tip of a probe were of a nature that leads me to 
believe that in them I experienced isolated muscle-sensations simple 
and uncomplicated. There were only certain points at which these 
apparently elementary sensations could be aroused ; but whenever these 
points were stimulated the unique quality was clearly perceived. Stimu- 
lation was found to be most efficient when the point was irritated 
by bringing a slight pressure to bear, at right angles to their axis, on 
neighboring fibres. The sensation can be described only by refer- 
ence to the entire cutaneous and subcutaneous complexes. As a 
matter of fact its quality almost evades description. 

The dull, deadened feeling characteristic of the sensations under- 
lying the anaesthetised area does not carry over to the description 
of what appear to be the clean-cut sensations found by manipulation 
of the muscles themselves. The latter sensations, while not acute, 
are not heavy or torpid, but rather are keen and brisk, though accom- 
panied by a ‘smouldering’ feeling. They are sharp and distinct, but 
not in the least painful or unpleasant, unless it be at first when they 
are novel and unexpected. They cannot be compared to the tired 
feeling following upon excessive muscular activity, as the muscle- 
sensations have been. On the contrary, a bracing feeling like that 
going with good physical tone serves better to convey some idea of 

304 NOTES 

the nature of these sensations. They are bracing but bland. They 
are not diffuse, like the sensations arising from pressure on the anaes- 
thetised area, but are fairly compact and unified. 

A peculiar error of localization was observed. Only a very few 
of the stimulations were referred even to the approximate point of 
stimulation. They were usually referred to some point on the tip of 
the finger. In one instance the stimulation was localized at a definite 
point on the palmar surface of the finger tip, when in reality it was 
applied near the back. This one error was repeated several times, 
when the same point was stimulated without my being aware of the 
place of contact. The sensations leading to these faulty localizations 
were of a more complex nature than (and of a different quality from) 
what was considered to be the elementary sense-quality. These errors 
of reference still persist in the second digit, and it is now possible to 
hold the stump rigid and yet to have a definite feeling of flexion at 
the distal joint. 

Similar observations of the nature of these deeper-lying sensations 
were carried out two months later, with the abductor pollicis brevis 
of the right hand uncovered, and essentially the same qualitative char- 
acteristics were noted as before, accompanied by even more marked 
errors of localization. In both regions the limen for temperature was 
very high, and at only a very few scattered points were temperatures 
that were not physiologically harmful percept’’ le. 

These observations of difference in quality of the subcutaneous 
sensations when directly stimulated from their quality when investi- 
gated in the usual manner would seem to indicate that in the latter 
case we are still dealing with a complex from which only the surface 
sensations have been eliminated. 

University of Iowa Donatp A. Larrp 


At the University of Paris there has been inaugurated this year the 
Institute of Psychology under the Faculty of Sciences. The following 
courses are scheduled: Delacroix, Psychologie générale, “La Psy- 
chologie francaise au XIX siécle;” Dumas, Psychologie pathologique 
et expérimentale, “Introduction générale, theories et méthodes” and 
“Les suppléances sensorielles ;” Janet, at the Collége de France, Psy- 
chologie expérimentale et comparée, ‘ * L’évolution de la personnalité ;” 
Piéron, Psychophysioiugie générale, “Etudes des sensations ;” and 
Rabaud, “Introduction a la psychologie animale.” 

The Section of Pedagogy of the Institute offers a series of con- 
ferences at the Sorbonne by Rabaud, Meyerson, Piéron, Lalo, and 
Wallon; a laboratory course on neuro-psychiatric children at the 
ramet 8 and a course on retarded children at the Asniéres by Rou-