Combin. sensa tions and ments. painful combinations of different ungraduated colours. A tellec teristic effects on feeling in consequence of habituation and accommodation. We may get used to a painful presentation in such wise that we cease to be conscious of it as positively disagreeable, though its cessation is at once a source of pleasure; in like manner we come to require things simply because it is painful to be without them, although their possession has long ceased to be a ground of positive enjoyment. This loss (or gain) consequent on accommodation has a most important effect in changing the sources of feeling: it helps to transfer attention from mere sensations to what we may distinguish as interests. 2. Certain sensations or movements not separately unations of pleasant become so when presented together or in immediate succession; and contrariwise, some combinations of of move- sensations or of movements may be such as to afford pleasure distinct from, and often greater than, any that they separately yield. Here again we find that in some cases the effect seems mainly to depend on intensity, in others mainly on quality. (i.) As instances of the former may be mentioned the pleasurableness of a rhythmic succession of sounds or movements, of symmetrical forms and curved outlines, of gentle crescendos and diminuendos in sound, and 3. The more or less spontaneous workings of imagina- Ideation of gradual variations of shade in colour, and the painfulness tion, as well as that direct control of this working necessary and inof flickering lights, "beats" in musical notes, false time, to thinking in the stricter sense, are always productive tion. false steps, false quantities, and the like. In all these, of pain or pleasure in varying degrees. Though the exwhenever the result is pleasurable, attention can be readily position of the higher intellectual processes has not yet accommodated,―is, so to say, economically meted out; been reached, there will be no inconvenience in at once and, whenever the result is painful, attention is surprised, taking account of their effects on feeling, since these are balked, wasted. Thus we can make more movements and fairly obvious and largely independent of any analysis of with less expenditure of energy when they are rhythmic the processes themselves. It will also be convenient to than when they are not, as the performances of a ball- include under the one term "intellectual feelings," not room or of troops marching to music amply testify. Of only the feelings connected with certainty, doubt, perthis economy we have also a striking proof in the ease with plexity, comprehension, and so forth, but also what the which rhythmic language is retained. (ii.) As instances Herbartian psychologists-whose work in this department of the latter may be cited those arrangements of musical of psychology is classical-have called par excellence the tones and of colours that are called harmonious or the formal feelings, that is to say, feelings which they regard opposite. Harmony, however, must be taken to have a as entirely determined by the form of the flow of ideas, different meaning in the two cases. When two or three and not by the ideas themselves. Thus, be the ideas tones harmonize there results, as is well known, a distinct what they may, when their onward movement is checked pleasure over and above any pleasure due to the tones by divergent or obstructing lines of association, and especithemselves. On the other hand, tones that are discordant ally when in this manner we are hindered, say, from reare unpleasant in spite of any pleasantness they may have collecting a name or a quotation (as if, e.g., the names of singly. Besides the negative condition of absence of Archimedes, Anaximenes, and Anaximander each arrested beats, a musical interval to be pleasant must fulfil certain the clear revival of the other), we are conscious of a certain positive conditions, sufficiently expressed for our purpose strain and oppressiveness, which give way to momentary by saying that two tones are pleasant when they give rise relief when at length what is wanted rises into distinct to few combination-tones, and when among these there consciousness and our ideas resume their flow. are several that coincide, and that they are unpleasant again, too, as in muscular movements, we have the conwhen they give rise to many combination-tones, and when trast of exertion and facility, when "thoughts refuse to among these there are few or none that coincide. Too flow" and we work "invita Minerva," or when the appromany tones together prevent any from being distinct. But priate ideas seem to unfold and display themselves before where tones coincide the number of tones actually present us like a vision before one inspired. To be confronted is less than the number of possible tones, and there is a with propositions we cannot reconcile-i.e., with what is proportionate simplification, so to put it: more is comor appears inconsistent, false, contradictory-is apt to be manded and with less effort. A recent writer 2 on harmony, painful; the recognition of truth or logical coherence, on in fact, compares the confusion of a discord to that of the other hand, is pleasurable. The feeling in either case "trying to reckon up a sum in one's head and failing is, no doubt, greater the greater our interest in the subjectbecause the numbers are too high." A different explana- matter; but the mere conflict of ideas as such is in itself tion must be given of the so-called harmonies of colour. depressing, and the discernment of agreement, of the one The pleasurable effect of graduations of colour or shade to in the many, in like manner a distinct satisfaction. Now which, as Ruskin tells us, the rose owes its victorious beauty in the one case we are conscious of futile efforts to comwhen compared with other flowers-has been already men-prehend as one ideas which the more distinctly we appretioned: it is rather a quantitative than a qualitative effect. hend them for the purpose only prove to be the more What we are now concerned with are the pleasurable or completely and diametrically opposed; we can only affirm Here It has been definitely formulated, but in physiological language, and mentally envisage the one by denying and suppressing by Dr Bain as the Law of Novelty: "No second occurrence of any great shock or stimulus, whether pleasure, pain, or mere excitement, the representation of the other, and yet we have to strive is ever fully equal to the first, notwithstanding that full time has been to predicate both and to embody them together in the given for the nerves to recover from their exhaustion " same mental image. Attention is like a house divided Body, p. 51). Comp. also his Emotions and Will, 3d ed., p. 83. (Mind and Preyer, Akustische Untersuchungen, p. 59. against itself: there is effort but it is not effective, for the field of consciousness is narrowed and the flow of ideas arrested. When, on the other hand, we discern a common | merely ideas but ideals. A great work of art improves Higher 4. Closely related to these formal intellectual feelings Perhaps of all æsthetical principles the most wide- 1 Compare Fechner, Vorschule der Aesthetik, ii. p. 263. Fechner's full style for it is "Princip der ökonomischen Verwendung der Mittel oder des kleinsten Kraftmasses." VIII. upon the real in two respects: it intensifies and it transfigures. It is for art to gather into one focus, cleared from dross and commonplace, the genial memories of a lifetime, the instinctive memories of a race; and, where theory can only classify and arrange what it receives, artin a measure free from "the literal unities of time and place"-creates and glorifies. Still art eschews the abstract and speculative; however plastic in its hands, the material wrought is always that of sense. We have already noticed more than once the power which primary presentations have to sustain vivid re-presentations, and the bearing of this on the aesthetic effects of works of art must be straightway obvious. The notes and colours, rhymes and rhythms, forms and movements, which produce the lower æsthetic feelings also serve as the means of bringing into view, and maintaining at a higher level of vividness, a wider range and flow of pleasing ideas than we can ordinarily command. istic 5. When we reach the level at which there is distinct Egoistic self-consciousness (comp. p. 84), we have an important class and of feelings determined by the relation of the presentation socialof self to the other contents of consciousness. And as feelings. the knowledge of other selves advances pari passu with that of one's own self, so along with the egoistic feelings appear certain social or altruistic feelings. The two have much in common; in pride and shame, for example, account is taken of the estimate other persons form of us and of our regard for them; while, on the other hand, when we admire or despise, congratulate or pity another, we have always present to our mind a more or less definite conception of self in like circumstances. It will therefore amply serve all the ends of our present inquiry if we briefly survey the leading characteristics of some contrasted egoistic feelings, such as self-complacency and disappointment. When a man is pleased with himself, his achievements, possessions, or circumstances, such pleasure is the result of a comparison of his present position in this respect with some former position or with the position of some one else. Without descending to details, we may say that two prospects are before him, and the larger and fairer is recognized as his own. Under disappointment or reverse the same two pictures may be present to his mind, but accompanied by the certainty that the better is not his or is his no more. So far, then, it might be said that the contents of his consciousness are in each case the same, the whole difference lying in the different relationship to self. But this makes all the difference even to the contents of his consciousness, as we shall at once see if we consider its active side. Even the idlest and most thoughtless mind teems with intentions and expectations, and in its prosperity, like the fool in the parable, thinks to pull down its barns and build greater, to take its ease, eat, drink, and be merry. The support of all this pleasing show and these far-reaching aims is, not the bare knowledge of what abundance will do, but In mind the reflexion--These many goods are mine. alone final causes have a place, and the end can produce the beginning; the prospect of a summer makes the present into spring. But action is paralysed or impossible when the means evade us—— "Now drops at once the pride of awful state, The golden canopy, the glittering plate," and a bleak and wintry barrenness is filled with the emptiness of despair. In so far as a man's life consists in the abundance of the things he possesseth, we see then why it dwindles with these. The like holds where selfcomplacency or displicency rests on a sense of personal worth or on the honour or affection of others. Sum. result. We are now at the end of our survey of certain typical mary and pleasurable and painful states. The answer to our inquiry which it seems to suggest is that there is pleasure in proportion as a maximum of attention is effectively exercised, and pain in proportion as such effective attention is frustrated by distractions, shocks, or incomplete and faulty adaptations, or fails of exercise, owing to the narrowness of the field of consciousness and the slowness and smallness of its changes. Something must be said in explication of this formula, and certain objections that might be made to it must be considered. First of all, it implies that feeling is determined partly by quantitative, or, as we might say, material, conditions, and partly by conditions that are formal or qualitative. As regards the former, both the intensity or concentration of attention and its diffusion or the extent of the field of consciousness have to be taken into account. Attention, whatever else it is, is a limited quantity help to make the general view clearer. First, it may be urged that, according to this view, it ought to be one continuous pain to fall asleep, since in this state consciousness is rapidly restricted both as to intensity and range. This statement is entirely true as regards the intensity and substantially true as regards the range, at least of the higher consciousness: certain massive and agreeable organic sensations pertain to falling asleep, but the variety of presentations at all events grows less. But then the capacity to attend is also rapidly declining: even a slight intruding sensation entails an acute sense of strain in one sense, in place of the massive pleasure of repose throughout; and any voluntary concentration either in order to move or to think involves a like organic conflict, futile effort, and arrest of balmy ease. There is as regards the more definite constituents of the field of consciousness a close resemblance between natural sleepiness and the state of monotonous humdrum we call tedium or ennui; and yet the very same excitement that would relieve the one by dissipating the weariness of inaction would disturb the other by renewing the weariness of action: the one is commensurate with the resources of the moment, the other is not. Thus the maximum of effective attention in question is, as Aristotle would say, a maximum "relative to us." It is possible, therefore, that a change from a wider to a narrower field of consciousness may be a pleasurable change, if attention is more effectively engaged. Strictly speaking, however, the so-called negative pleasures of rest do not consist in a mere narrowing of the field of consciousness so much as in a change in the amount of concentration. Massive organic sensations connected with restoration take the place of the comparatively acute sensations of jaded powers forced to work. We have, then, in all cases to bear in mind this subjective relativity of all pleasurable or painful states of consciousness. Pluribus intentus minor est ad singula sensusto quote Hamilton's pet adage. Moreover, as we have seen, attention requires time. If, then, attention be distributed over too wide a field, there is a corresponding loss of intensity, and so of distinctness: we tend towards a succession of indistinguishables-indistinguishable, there fore, from no succession. We must not have more presentations in the field of consciousness than will allow of some concentration of attention: a maximum diffusion will not do. A maximum concentration, in like manner— even if there were no other objection to it would seem to conflict with the general conditions of consciousness, inasmuch as a single simple presentation, however intense, would admit of no differentiation, and any complex presentation is in some sort a plurality. The most effective attention, then, as regards its quantitative conditions, must lie somewhere between the two zeros of complete indifference and complete absorption. If there be an excess of diffusion, effective attention will increase up to a certain point as concentration increases, but beyond that point will decrease if this intensification continues to increase; and vice versa, if there be an excess of concentration. But, inasmuch as these quantitative conditions involve a plurality of distinguishable presentations or changes in consciousness, the way is open for formal conSince different presentations consort differently when above the threshold of consciousness together, one field may be wider and yet as intense as another, or intenser and yet as wide, owing to a more advantageous arrangement of its constituents.1 Negative The doctrine here developed, viz., that feeling depends on efficiency, is in the main as old as Aristotle; all that has been done is to give it a more accurately psychological expression, and to free it from the implications of the faculty theory, in which form it was expounded by Hamilton. Of possible objections there are at least two that we must anticipate, and the consideration of which will solately is imposible to say that any distinguishable presentation is plea. sures ditions as well. differ But there is still another and more serious difficulty to Do pleaface. It has long been a burning question with theoretical sures moralists whether pleasures differ only quantitatively or qualita. differ qualitatively as well, whether psychological analysis tively: will justify the common distinction of higher and lower pleasures or force us to recognize nothing but differences of degree, of duration, and so forth, -as expounded, e.g., by Bentham, whose cynical mot, "Pushpin is as good as poetry provided it be as pleasant," was long a stumblingblock in the way of utilitarianism. The entire issue here is confused by an ambiguity in terms that has been already noticed pleasure and pleasures have not the same connotation. By a pleasure or pleasures we mean some assignable presentation or presentations which are pleasant,.., afford pleasure; by pleasure simply is meant this subjective state of feeling itself. The former, like other objects of knowledge, admit of classification and comparison: we may distinguish them as coarse or as noble, or, if we will, as cheap and wholesome. But, while the causes of feeling are manifold, the feeling itself is a subjective state, varying only in intensity and duration. The best evidence of this simple, the hypothesis of subconsciousness would leave us lies in the general character of the actions that ensue explained on the score of intensity is due to some obscure harmony or er to assume that any pleasantness or unpleasantness that cannot be through feeling, the matter which has next to engage us. discord, compatibility or incompatibility, of elements not separately Whatever be the variety in the sources of pleasure, whatdiscernible. But this, though tempting, is not really a very scientific procedure. If a particular presentation is pleasurable or painful in ever be the moral or conventional estimate of their worthisuch wise as to lead to a redistribution of attention, it is reasonable to ness, if a given state of consciousness is pleasant we seek field of an explanation primarily in its connexion with the rest of the pleasure before less, less pain before greater. to retain it, if painful to be rid of it: we prefer greater This is, place in subconsciousness can only be explained in analogy with what Moreover, it is obvious-since what takes takes place in consciousness-that, if we have an inexplicable in the one, in fact, the whole meaning of preference as a psychological we must have a corresponding inexplicable in the other. term. Wisdom and folly prefer each the course which the explained by what comports itself as a simple presentation cannot be preferable, that, however, is not a matter for psychology. If the feeling other rejects. Both courses cannot, indeed, be objectively But, as soon as reflexion begins, exceptions to this primary consciousness. by what is in consciousness, we should be forced to admit that some presentations are unpleasant simply because they are un pleasant-an inexplicability which the hypothesis of subconsciousness principle of action seem to arise continually, even though might push farther back but would not remove. we regard the individual as a law to himself. Such excep Emotional and Conative Action. tions, however, we may presently find to be apparent only.lectual element in it than has the disgust we feel on first At any rate the principle is obviously true before reflexion witnessing anatomical dissections.1 begins,-true so long as we are dealing with actually present sources of feeling, and not with their re-presentations. But to admit this is psychologically to admit everything, at least if mind is to be genetically explained. Assuming, then, that we start with only quantitative variations of feeling, we have to attempt to explain the development of formal and qualitative differences in the grounds of feeling. But, if aversions and pursuits result from incommensurable states of pain and pleasure, there seems no other way of saving the unity and continuity of the subject except by a speculative assumption, the doctrine known as the freedom of the will. The one position The one position involves the other, and the more scientific course is to avoid both as far as we can. answer in brief. The question, then, is: How, if action depends in the last resort on a merely quantitative difference, could it ever come about that what we call the higher sources of feeling should supersede the lower? If it is only quantity that turns the scales, where does quality come in, for we cannot say, e.g., that the astronomer experiences a greater thrill of delight when a new planet rewards his search than the hungry savage in finding a clump of pig-nuts? Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis contains the Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis contains the We shall understand this answer better if we look at a parallel case, or what is really our own from another point of view. We distinguish between. higher and lower forms of life: we might say there is more life in a large oyster than in a small one, other things being equal, but we should regard a crab as possessing not necessarily more life—as measured by waste of tissue but certainly as manifesting life in a higher form. How, in the evolution of the animal kingdom, do we suppose this advance to have been made? The tendency at any one moment is simply towards more life, simply growth; but this process of self-preservation imperceptibly but steadily modifies the self that is preserved. The creature is bent only on filling its skin; but in doing this as easily as may be it gets a better skin to fill, and accordingly seeks to fill it differently. Though cabbage and honey are what they were before, they have changed relatively to the grub now it has become a butterfly. So, while we are all along preferring a more pleasurable state of consciousness before a less, the content of our consciousness is continually changing; the greater pleasure still outweighs the less, but the pleasures to be weighed are either wholly different, or at least are the same for us no more. What we require, then, is not that the higher pleasures shall always afford greater pleasure than the lower did, but that to advance to the level of life on which pleasure is derived from higher objects shall on the whole be more pleasurable and less painful than to remain behind. And this condition seems provided in the fact of accommodation above referred to (p. 69) and in the important fact that attention can be more effectively expended by what we may therefore call improvements in the form of the field of consciousness. But when all is said and done a certain repugnance is apt to arise against any association of the differences between the higher and lower feelings with differences of quantity. Yet such repugnance is but another outcome of the common mistake of supposing that the real is obtained by pulling to pieces rather than by building up. "Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy?" But no logical analysis-nay, further, no logical synthesis -is adequate to the fulness of things. For the rest, such aversion is wholly emotional, and has no more an intel We turn now from the causes of feeling to its manifesta- EFFECTS tions or effects, and have here in like manner to inquire OF FEELwhether there is in these also any contrast corresponding ING. to the opposing extremes of pleasure and pain. We have already seen reasons for dismissing reflex movements or movements not determined by feeling as psychologically secondary, the effects of habit and heredity, and for regarding those diffusive movements that are immediately expressive of feeling as primordial,—such movements as are strictly purposive being gradually selected or elaborated from them. But some distinction is called for among the various movements expressive of emotion; for there is more in these than the direct effect of feeling regarded as merely pleasure or pain. It has been usual with psychologists to confound emotions with feeling, because intense feeling is essential to emotion. But, strictly speaking, a state of emotion is a complete state of mind, a psychosis, and not a psychical element, if we may so say. Thus in anger we have over and above pain a more or less definite object as its cause, and a certain characteristic reactive display-frowns, compressed lips, erect head, clenched fists, in a word, the combative attitude-as its effect, and similarly of other emotions; so that generally in the particular movements indicative of particular emotions the primary and primitive effects of feeling are overlaid by what Darwin has called serviceable associated habits. The purposive actions of an earlier stage of development become, though somewhat atrophied as it were, the emotive outlet of a later stage: in the circumstances in which teeth. We must, therefore, leave aside the more complex our ancestors worried their enemies we only show our emotional manifestations and look only to the simplest effects of pleasure and of pain, if we are to discover any fundamental contrast between them.2 To the sion. and meaningless laughter, and these actions are not only sailors who are going to be flogged sometimes take a their utmost force, and thus to bear the pain." When in piece of lead into their mouths in order to bite it with this way we take account of the immediate effects as well 1 "To look at anything in its elements makes it appear inferior to what it seems as a whole. Resolve the statue or the building into stone and the laws of proportion, and no worthy causes of the former beautiful result seem now left behind. So, also, resolve a virtuous act into the passions and some quantitative law, and it seems to be rather destroyed than analysed, though after all what was there else it could be resolved into?" Sir A. Grant, Aristotle's Ethics, Essay IV., "The Doctrine of the Mean," vol. i. p. 210 (2d ed.). 2 Of the three principles Darwin advances in explanation of emotional expression that which he places last-perhaps because it admits of less definite illustration logically more fundamental than the more striking principle of serviceseems both psychologically and physioable associated habits which he places first; indeed the following, which is his statement of it, implies as much: "Certain actions which we recognize as expressive of certain states of mind are the direct result of the constitution of the nervous system, and have been from the first independent of the will, and to a large extent of habit" (Expression of the Emotions, p. 66). It is in illustration of this principle too that Darwin describes the movements expressive of joy and grief, emotions which in some forni or other are surely the most primitive of any. as of the causes of feeling, we find it still more strikingly true that only in pleasurable states is there an efficient expenditure of attention. It is needless now to dwell upon this point, although any earlier mention of it would hardly have been in place. But we should fail to realize the contrast between the motor effects of pleasure and of pain if we merely regarded them as cases of diffusion. The intenser the feeling the intenser the reaction, no doubt, whether it be smiles or tears, jumping for joy, or writhing in agony; but in the movements consequent on pleasure the diffusion is the result of mere exuberance, an overflow of good spirits, as we sometimes say, and these movements, as already remarked, are always comparatively purposeless or playful. Even the earliest expressions of pain, on the contrary, seem but so many efforts to escape from the cause of it; in them there is at least the blind purpose to flee from a definite ill, but in pleasure only the enjoyment of present fortune. From Plato downwards psychologists and moralists have been fond of discussing the relation of pleasure and pain. It has been maintained that pain is the first and more fundamental fact, and pleasure nothing but relief from pain; and, again, on the other side, that pleasure is prior and positive, and pain only the negation of pleasure. So far as the mere change goes, it is obviously true that the diminution of pain is pro tanto pleasant, and the diminution of pleasure pro tanto unpleasant; and if relativity had the unlimited range sometimes assigned to it this would be all we could say. But we must sooner or later recognize the existence of a comparatively fixed neutral state, deviations from which, of comparatively short duration and of sufficient intensity, constitute distinct states of pleasure or pain. Such states, if not of liminal intensity, may then be further diminished without reversing their pleasurable or painful character. The turning-point here implied may, of course, gradually change too,- -as a result, in fact, of the law of accommodation. Thus a long run of pleasure would raise "the hedonistic zero," while-to the small extent to which accommodation to pain is possible-a continuance of pain would lower it. But such admission makes no material difference where the actual feeling of the moment is alone concerned and retrospect out of the question. On the whole it seems, therefore, most reasonable to regard pleasure and pain as emerging out of a neutral state, which is prior to and distinct from both,-not a state of absolute indifference, but of simple contentment, marked by no special active display. But it is by reference to such state of equilibrium or draola that we see most clearly the superior volitional efficacy of pain upon which pessimists love to descant. "Nobody," says Von Hartmann, "who had to choose between no taste at all for ten minutes or five minutes of a pleasant taste and then five minutes of an unpleasant taste, would prefer the last." Most men and all the lower animals are content "to let well alone." To ascertain the origin and progress of purposive action posire it seems, then, that we must look to the effects of pain rather than to those of pleasure. Necessity is the mother of invention, and all things are full of labour. It is true that psychologists not unfrequently describe the earliest purposive movements as appetitive; or at least they treat appetitive and aversive movements as co-ordinate and equally primitive, pleasures being supposed to lead to actions for their continuance as much as pains to actions for their removal. No doubt, as soon as the connexion between a pleasurable sensation and the appropriate action is completely established, as in the case of imbibing food, the whole process is then self-sustaining till satiety begins. But the point is that such facility was first acquired under the teaching of pain, the pain of unsatisfied hunger. The term "appetite" is apt both by its etymology and its later Associations to be misleading. What are properly called the instinctive" appetites are when regarded from their active side-movements determined by some existing un Pur action. we have agreed here to leave heredity on one side and consider only the original evolution. But if none but psychological causes were at work this evolution would be very long and in its early stages very uncertain. At first, when only random movements ensue, we may fairly suppose both that the chance of at once making a happy hit would be small and that the number of chances, the space for repentance, would also be small. Under such circumstances natural selection would have to do almost everything and subjective selection almost nothing. So far as natural selection worked, we should have, not the individual subject making a series of tries and perfecting itself by practice, as in learning to dance or swim, but we should have those individuals whose stuff or structure happened to vary for the better surviving, increasing, and displacing the rest. How much natural selection, apparently unaided, can accomplish in the way of complicated adjustment we see in the adaptation of the form and colour of plants and animals to their environment. Both factors, in reality, operate at once, and it would be hard to fix a limit to either, though to our minds natural selection seems to lose in comparative importance as we advance towards the higher stages of life. But psychologically we have primarily to consider subjective selection, i.e., first of all, the association of particular movements with particular sensations through the mediation of feeling. The sensations here concerned are mainly painful excitations from the environment, the recurring pains of innutrition, weariness, &c., and pleasurable sensations due to the satisfaction of these organic wants-pleasures which, although not a mere "filling up," as Plato at one time contended, are still preceded by pain, but imply over and above the removal of this a certain surplus of positive good. There seem only a few points to notice. (a) When the movements that ensue through pleasure are themselves pleasurable there is ordinarily simply enhance the general enjoyment, which is complete no ground for singling out any one; such movements in itself and so far contains no hint of anything beyond. (b) Should one of these spontaneous movements of pleasure chance to cause pain, no doubt such movement is speedily arrested. Probably the most immediate connexion possible between feeling and purposive action is that in which a painful movement leads through pain to its own suppression. But such connexion is not very fruitful of conscquences, inasmuch as it only secures what we may call internal training and does little to extend the relation of the individual to its environment. (c) Out of the irregular, often conflicting movements which indirectly relieve pain some one may chance to remove the cause of it altogether. Upon this movement, the last of a tentative series, attention, released from the pain, is concentrated; and in this way the evil and the remedy become so far associated that on a recurrence of the former the many diffused movements become less, and the one purposive movement more, pronounced; the one effectual way is at length established and the others, which were but palliatives, disappear. that some one definite movement is definitely represented along with the painful sensation it remedies, it is not long before a still further advance is possible and we have preventive morements. Thanks to the orderliness of things, dangers have their premonitions. After a time, therefore, (d) When things have advanced so far easy sensation. So far as their earliest manifestation in a particular individual is concerned, this urgency seems the occurrence of some signal sensation revives the image almost entirely of the nature of a vis a tergo; and the of the harm that has previously followed in its wake, and movements are only more definite than those simply exa movement-either like the first, or another that has to pressive of pain because of inherited pre-adaptation, on be selected from the random tries of fear-occurs in time which account, of course, they are called "instinctive," the cravings of appetite are felt, any signs of the presence to avert the impending ill. (e) In like manner, provided But what one inherits another must have acquired, and of pleasurable objects prompt to movements for their enjoy. XX. 10 |