PART IV

It is beyond the province of this paper to report the accounts the

subjects have attempted to give of the complex feelings aroused by the

pictures of statues. The primary and limited purpose is to try to trace

out the influences of the feelings before dealt with for colors when

these are also present in some way related to the now complex æsthetic

states. The _Einfühlung_, often reported for the simple forms, is here

much more easily detected, if the statues arouse agreeable feelings.

They "work themselves into the statue," or assume the position, or

the facial expression if this is prominent, or feel very strongly in

their own body what seems to be the most prominent element in the

feeling portrayed by the figure. Few subjects liked all the statues.

Incipient if not actual tendencies to motion of some sort, with the

sensory counterparts to these situations called for when the subject

feels that he is in the "proper attitude" to get most feeling from the

presentations, chiefly constitute what was in different ways reported.

These statues presented on colors as backgrounds are variously and

interestingly modified. The feeling-tones for colors distinctly affect

the meaning of the statues. Of the above colors our shade of red is

preferred with Venus by all subjects. Here the feeling-tones more

nearly fuse. Always the feeling-character of the statue predominates,

and the other feeling-elements of the situation are accepted or

rejected in proportion as they harmonize or fail to harmonize with the

predominant partial tone. Red, for example, here adds to the "richness

and luxuriousness." It accentuates the strength, poise, grace, balance,

ease, rest, wisdom, composure, endurance, and dignity. It is more

soothing, and calls for no unnecessary action. One subject never liked

any color as a background. In this case colors were good in proportion

as "they kept out of the way." This is the reason for red being always

preferred to yellow or green. With these latter colors there is an

interplay of reactions not coöperating. The color-exciting element is

more immediate, tension is brought about, the color asserts itself, is

pleasant, and tends directly to inhibit the feelings for the statue.

The pleasure in the color is called "thin" in comparison, and the power

of sympathetic appreciation of Venus is lessened. There is suggestion

now in the statue still of its strength, but with no "enduring"

quality. It has become commonplace, merely a "pretty woman," jaunty,

self-sufficient, cynical, and with little dignity. The motion element,

now prominent, is not pertinent. The statue looks "cheap," and as a

figure is volatile and unsteady.

In a similar way one finds these feeling-tones for colors variously

playing their part. The statue of Apollo is not pleasing to some

subjects. They want it "toned down." The red effects this. To some it

is most pleasing by its suggestion of easy grace and springy, elastic

step. The yellow harmonizes and accentuates this chosen feeling. The

blue often destroys its moral meaning. The red hampers the feeling

for the _Laocoön_ group. They become listless, dead, and have still

strength, but no struggle. Yellow increases the amount of activity,

but often lessens the "serious despair." Fierceness is added, but

the liveliness thus furnished is at the expense of the necessary

balancing solemnity. The color again becomes intrusive. "The snakes

fairly dance," and the "flashing action behind" the statue is now too

prominent.

For the _Dying Gladiator_ or _Dying Alexander_ red is preferred. It,

however, as do all the other colors, often produces an overbalance

in the whole situation. Here it suggests no conflicting feelings. It

adds--often too much--to the hopelessness of the situation, and gives

to them an exaggerated solemnity and resignation, which emphasizes

a melancholy cast, not altogether called for. Green and yellow are

always incongruous. They tend to distract the attention to certain

particular muscles, thereby lessening the whole general effect. The

little "prettiness" they still retain is not called for, and is not "of

the right sort." They do not allow one to be sufficiently contemplative

or thoughtful. They have little depth, and cause inharmonious bodily

commotions, and too much intensify the life-struggle and anguish.

The general effect of the statues here is much like that of the simple

forms above. Both not only call for something to be done by the

subject, but some action more or less already definitely outlined.

The Einfühlung for little wooden figures, such as cones, columns,

pyramids, etc., was clear and decided. The tipping character or the

straight erectness caused a feeling which seemed describable in terms

of the way in which the bodily position, as one naturally adapted

himself to the object, took place. Statues afford richer experiences,

but the principle is not different. They seem full of suggestions of

abstractions, such as strength, wisdom, grace, beauty, power, and, in

general, what are often called spiritual feelings. These are not so

easily imitated in detail. Subjects have their own ways of adapting

themselves. They want to carry out the suggestion or impulse in their

own way. These impulses are projected into the figure, and all of the

vigor inhibited in one's own body becomes a living part of the figure.

The impulses thus from the colors may or may not be of such a character

as to bring about the same proportionate adjustment as a desirable

intensification equally of all the feeling-elements. Whether desirable

or not, however, these feeling-combinations furnish additional

illustrations of the various mutual relations of coexisting feelings.

The _Angelus_ or the _Shepherdess Knitting_ bring about feelings in

striking contrast to the feeling for the _Horse Fair_ picture. The

latter arouses suggestions of a tumultuous bodily condition, increased

muscular tonicity, muscles twitching everywhere, breathing heavier,

shoulders strained, and in comparison, great general innervation.

When the characteristic feeling had been aroused, the subjects were

requested to close their eyes and observe if possible to what extent

the feeling already aroused was dependent upon the retained images.

The results were clear. If the feeling is slight, as it is for some

subjects, the feeling tended to vanish and return with the recurring

images. If it is fairly strong, the feeling persists for some time

after visual imagery is lost. If very strong, the feeling is constant

for a still longer period and still less dependent upon the original

peripheral excitation. The feeling is always more constant than

any imagery. Not often for example is the whole picture retained.

Sometimes one prominent part only remains. Often again various kinds

of imagery aid in preserving the feeling. Besides visual, auditory,

the sounds of the horses' hoofs, of the tones of the Angelus bell, are

chiefly prominent in preserving the situation and the condition for

the feeling. Articulatory impulses again, in the tendency to repeat to

one's self such words as are descriptive of the moral meaning of the

pictures, offer sufficient clues to keep the desired feeling aroused.

When the feeling has "struck deep," subjects report motor imagery

pervading the whole system. In such cases the recurring visual imagery

has little effect upon the feeling. On the whole, the feelings for the

more quiet pictures last longer and are more easily retained than is

the case with the more exciting ones, if the original feelings are, as

to mere intensity, approximately equal.

The character and strength of these feeling-tones determine also to

a large extent the lines of association followed. Here the mutual

influences of feelings are clearly recognized. The character of the

new associated images and situations is colored by the feelings which

were connected with the original stimulations. The pictures, such, for

example, as the _Angelus_ and the _Horse Fair_, were presented to the

subjects in quick succession. These were to be merely starting-points

for association. For all the subjects who were able to report anything

definite, the feeling-tone for one was read into the associations which

were aroused by the other. The second of the two starting-points as

a rule controls the imagery. A few examples will illustrate how both

feeling-tones are retained. The _Angelus_ was presented first in these

cases, and the _Horse Fair_ second.

For subject K, the parts of the picture of the _Horse Fair_ remained.

The feeling of seriousness and quietness, foreign to it itself, was

projected into it. Solemnity and the feeling of strength and power was

accentuated. The gaiety originally present was very much lessened, and

finally not noticed at all.

For subject C, a sacred feeling was aroused. Wars of the Bible were

recalled. There was a fusion of the imagery. He saw the church on a

battlefield near a cavalry fight. The feeling of active earnestness and

the sacred moral character was reported as due to the retained feeling

first brought about by the _Angelus_. The influence of the other

starting-point is clear.

Subject B found the incongruity between the two feelings very strong.

The _Angelus_ was the stronger in influence. The other caused one to

stress the lighter, more trivial character of the former. Meadows,

streams, pools, and enchanted regions typified the fanciful mood thus

brought about.

It is not a question as to whether such trains of thought would have

occurred if only one starting-point had been used. It is rather that,

in such cases as the above, two distinct feeling-tones were actually

detected as playing their part in the resulting complex experiences.

It is with some effort that both feeling-tones can be thus at first

retained. The resulting undertone or general mood, however brought

about, colors and determines to a certain extent the associations which

follow. The feeling is more deeply seated than the image, and here also

it is retained longer.

The above recorded account of the behavior of simple feelings fairly

represents the accumulated data at our disposal. How they can be

adjusted to modern theories of the relation of consciousness to

movement may be briefly suggested. Yet the rudimentary state both of

the psychology and of the physiology of feeling makes the present

task a hazardous one. Psychologists are not agreed as to the best way

to conceive of the relation of feelings to sensations. Feeling-tone

is in some ways dependent upon sensations; and at the same time,

in comparison with other sensation attributes, it is relatively

independent. Physiologists are still farther from agreement with regard

to the nervous processes involved.

But the _deeply organic seat_ of feelings is unquestioned. However the

concept of feeling itself may differ, all are looking for corresponding

bodily processes by means of which to classify these affective states.

Clearly, to say that feeling is of such a nature that one need never

hope to be able to predict it from psycho-physical conditions, is

no more justified than to say that we can never predict exactly the

intensity nor the vividness of any stimulation. Feeling-tone is here

simply on a par with other attributes ascribed to sensation.

According to Münsterberg's Action Theory the intensity of the sensation

depends upon the strength of the incoming current. Its quality depends

upon the position or location of this current in its particular

neurone. The vividness depends upon the "openness" or "closedness" of

the neurone conditioning the _outgoing current_. And finally to the

feeling-tone shall correspond the local difference of this discharge in

outgoing currents. For instance, the pleasant feelings have, related to

them, central outgoing paths which lead to approach, and thus to the

continuation of the stimulus, and the unpleasant feelings have related

to them in turn central neurones which lead to withdrawal or escape,

and thus to the breaking-up of the stimulus.

Our empirical data gathered from the experiments above reported demand

not so much a modification as an elaboration of this theory. The

_tridimensionality_ of the feeling-tone itself must be physiologically

described. We must conceive the feeling-tone itself as possessed of its

own vividness, intensity, and quality.

It seems clear indeed that any explanation of the affective or

feeling-character of experience must be sought somewhere in the

outgoing currents from the motor region. This alone will serve to

account for the inevitable volitional or "intent" aspect which

invariably accompanies feeling, and I think may serve to account also

for the organic or necessarily coördinating or functioning aspect

required by some writers who so stoutly object to "barren atomistic or

structural" psychological explanations.

The Action Theory might then be specialized in the following way:

The _intensity_ of the feeling will depend upon the force or amount

of the outgoing currents from the motor cells. This would enable one

to explain that state of mind when a sensation only is experienced

from a stimulus which ordinarily has a characteristic feeling-tone,

but which feeling-tone in the special instance is lacking. Many cases

have been cited above where one feeling seemed to efface another. The

nerve-energy called for in arousing the unpleasant feeling-tone for

the sandpaper inhibited the process of the discharge from the cells

conditioning any response to the ordinarily pleasing red color. Others

again can reënforce or at least not seriously interfere with each

other. All cases already cited where two feeling-tones were detected

as existing simultaneously are examples in point. It is quite clear of

course that the intensity of feeling is not at all commensurate with

the intensity of sensation. Commotion is not the only condition for

emotion. Yet where there is no tendency to _do_ anything, as is so

noticeable in the reported introspections above, there is no feeling.

A mere shock, even though intense as a sensation, simply benumbs one.

In thus describing any feeling for a particular stimulation, one

should include, besides the original results of the chosen peripheral

excitation, all the reënforcing factors that accumulate by reason of

the sensory counterparts to this originally called-for movement. When

one is, for example, feeling sandpaper, the feeling for the soft red,

when it exists at all, is less intense. Subjects say, "It ought to be

more pleasant than it is. The trouble is in me, not in the color."

The suggested movement which conditions the intensity is lessened in

amount, or partially inhibited. One could scarcely say, so far as the

sensation is concerned, that it has lost some of its brightness, or

that it is not strong enough to arouse its customary feeling-tone. This

is distinctly reported as not the case. It is of course almost always

recognized as the same shade of color. The recorded examples, showing

that intensity of feeling is itself one dimension of a feeling-tone

in no way necessarily related to the intensity of the sensation, are

numerous.

The _vividness_ of the feeling-tone is likewise a relatively

independent phenomenon, and it, too, is not commensurate with the

vividness of the sensation as such, and hence demands a different

explanation. It can then be dependent upon the _actual stage in the

process of completing the movements suggested_ by the color or tone

or form in question. All feelings dealt with in this investigation

one can describe by relating them to the actual stage in the process

of completing the _coördinated adjustments_. Without some progress

in such a process no feeling would cross the threshold of awareness.

In Part III above are recorded many illustrations, where _degrees of

vividness_ for feelings are noted by the subjects. When they were

attempting to report the actual time when a feeling became definite

enough to be called such at all, there was much difficulty in knowing

just when to give the signal. Feelings develop much more slowly than

do perceptions. Subjects often give the signal too soon, at once

correcting themselves by saying that it was too vague at that moment.

It grows in definiteness, and has degrees of vividness. A movement

in the first stages of the process, before the feeling-tone has

sufficiently developed, is a state of vague feeling. Again, many states

of so-called indifferent feeling meant, according to the subjects,

not lack of feeling, but rather vagueness, lack of vividness. Three

or more stimulations from different sources resulted in confusion

where no feelings were vivid. When the color again, for example, is

pronounced "dead" so far as feeling is concerned, other feelings and

other movements are too prominent. The sensations are in such cases

unchanged. The intensity and vividness of the feeling-tone for the

color are at a minimum.

And thirdly the _quality_ of the feeling-tone must be dependent upon,

and must be described in terms of the particular kind of coördinated

movements suggested or actually carried out. Thus the characters of the

feeling-tones for the yellow color above described, for the upright

ovals, for the very high tones, for the _Laocoön_ group, and for the

_Horse Fair_, are in some respects alike. They have the same general

_Gefühlsgrundlage_. The qualities of the feelings for soft deep red,

for tactual plush, for low tones, and for the _Angelus_, and, for most

subjects, for Venus, would represent another class having the same

_Gefühlsgrundlage_. This admits of all the uniqueness specific feelings

may have, and at the same time permits of a general classification

and description. Some subjects, D and F, for example, may have a

feeling whose quality is disgust at some color-form combination. The

accompanying sensations may be localized, as they frequently are,

in the arms, with impulses to "ward off" the displeasing influence.

Subject B often for the same feeling finds sensations of contraction

in the throat most prominent, and subject A a stiffening of the

features and incipient scowl. The most prominent localization depends

upon the habits of the person and the habitual kind of reaction he

has acquired and developed during his lifetime. The localization of

muscular activity may differ, but _the kind of coördination does not,

so far as our introspection shows_. The _regularity_, the _rate_, the

_smooth light ease_, or the _heavy, ponderous, deep-seated character_

of the suggested responses indicate some of the terms which would serve

as aids in classifying kinds of processes which are physiological

conditions for feelings of definite character. Again, feelings of

pleasant repose, of depression, or of sudden collapse are still changes

also in innervation tonus. These are adaptations for situations just as

are the more positive or aggressive kinds illustrated above. Feelings

where quick collapse occurs differ in _quality_ from feelings of calm

repose. All can be conceived as kinds of adaptations or responses, and

clearly correspond to the characters of feeling-tones rather than to

any other dimension of feelings or sensations.

Certainly the central preparedness for discharge largely determines the

feelings. The external excitations are merely the clues. The internal

apparatus is set vibrating in a constant manner if no other external or

central stimulus is present to demand other adjustments or to intensify

the same kind. When such synergetic or antagonistic stimuli are also

present the mutual influences of feelings do seem to be, indeed, of

great significance.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 84: As Mach long ago pointed out, _pleasant_ is a vague term

and in itself does not serve as a true descriptive term. _Pleasant_

here applies to both feeling for red and for yellow, but something more

is needed to distinguish these very different feelings.]

[Footnote 85: "Irritating" as I shall use the word has no hedonic or

algedonic significance.]

THE ÆSTHETICS OF REPEATED SPACE FORMS

BY ELEANOR HARRIS ROWLAND

Part I

The object of this paper is to discover some of the sources of our

pleasure in repeated space forms, and the laws which govern this

repetition. The repetition of an object, and its regular recurrence

subject to certain possible variations, is one of the basal principles

of art, and of architecture in particular.

It is necessary at the outset to define our use of the word

_repetition_ more exactly, for there are obviously different meanings

of the word, which may lead to confusion.

1. The term repetition may be applied to the existence of any two

objects similar to each other, whether they are near together or widely

sundered. Our pleasure in such a repetition would be merely that of

re-seeing and recognizing the two as counterparts of each other. This

kind of repetition I call _conceptual_, for it requires only that the

memory-picture of the object be held in mind and the two recognized

as similar when met again. This is not the kind of repetition which I

have in mind, and I shall never use the word in this sense during the

discussion.

2. In any one work of art there may be some feature repeated, some

motif which is taken up and carried out in different ways throughout

the whole, and these features we recognize as having an orderly

relation to one another in the unity. This might be termed repetition

of _content_, and be applied to the recurrence of some type of

decoration over a window or a peculiar arch taken up in various ways

throughout a cathedral. I do not use the word in this sense, but limit

it still further.

3. By _repetition_ is meant during this discussion the regular

recurrence of an object, and an equally regular recurrence of

intervals. The repeated object must come at uniform intervals, and

this restricts us to the consideration of that repetition alone which

consists of recurrence at regular intervals of some object more or

less beautiful in itself, and the description of the nature of our

æsthetic feeling in experiencing such a series.

Although this discussion is divided into the two divisions of

_experiments_ and _analysis_ of architectural examples, and the

experiments are described first, the investigation was not carried out

separately in this order. The two went along together, the art-analysis

suggesting experiments, and the experiments in turn throwing light on

the analysis. The two parts of the discussion are kept separate merely

for the convenience of the reader, and in the experimental discussion

all allusions to the art-illustrations are excluded in order to avoid

confusion. In reality the two went hand in hand, but the connection

between the experiments and art-analysis will be reserved for the

latter half of the paper.

The experiments were begun in the following manner: In a velvet screen

about a foot high was cut a window 460 mm. by 35 mm. in size. Behind

the window was a metre measure and a rod from which hung small strips

of cardboard 10 mm. wide. First two, three, and four strips were

hung behind the window, and the subjects were required to arrange

them at the intervals where they preferred to see them repeated. The

results were uniform in certain particulars and very suggestive. In

their arrangements of two, three and four strips, the subjects were

guided by considerations of symmetry or proportion. They insisted that

although they knew that the strips were repeated, they did not feel the

repetition, but the strips seemed like parts of some larger unity to be

arranged with reference to the unity of the whole. With the addition

of the fifth strip came a difference in their apperception. Instead of

the strips seeming parts of a whole including figure they seemed like

repeated units.

FAVORITE ARRANGEMENTS

2 _strips_ 3 _strips_ 4 _strips_ 5 _strips_

J. 30 mms. 4 mms. { mid. sp. = 25 any symmetrical

{ ends = 10 arrangement

better than

equality

S. 170 12 { mid. sp. = 15 {mid. sp. = 40

{ ends = 12 {ends = 30

U. 40 20 30 35

R. 30 130 { mid. sp. = 30

{ ends = 10 10

L. 23 40 70 70

W. 40 10 30 30

V. 20 10 { mid. sp. = 100

{ ends = 60 15

It will be seen, from the table, that with two exceptions they

preferred five strips equally distant from one another, while with four

strips, four subjects had preferred a symmetrical arrangement. These

gave as their reason that with five strips the latter appeared more

definitely to be repetitions of one another, while the four strips

seemed more like parts of a whole which required symmetry in its

arrangement. Moreover the two subjects who preferred five strips in

symmetrical arrangement instead of at equal distances affirmed that a

distinct feeling of repetition came with five strips that had not been

felt before, only they did not enjoy this feeling of repetition as well

as one of symmetry. After having seen the five strips, some subjects

could feel the repetition with four strips, but none with three. The

question naturally arose, what is this _feeling_ of repetition which

makes one say that four or five repeated objects deserve the name,

while three or less are regarded in a different light? The analogy

between the apperception of this visual repetition and auditory rhythm

seemed so strong as to deserve attention.

In auditory rhythm it is necessary that there be recurrence of more

than two elements; they must come at a certain rate and within a

certain temporal space to seem connected with each other, and they may

be subjectively grouped in different ways. The apperception of both

kinds of repetition had so many analogies as to suggest that some of

the factors in both experiences were identical.

To focus the problem I took a definite thesis in regard to it. Our

apperception of repeated space forms is due to the rhythm of our own

motor adjustments which are excited in face of repetition, harmoniously

if they accord with certain rhythmic laws in us, inharmoniously if they

do not. It was then necessary to find what facts would support such a

thesis, to see if in reality such facts could be marshalled, and if the

explanation and support they offered was conclusive enough to make it

needless to look farther.

It would seem, if our pleasure in repetition depended on temporal

motor responses in us, that if the amount of time normally taken to

traverse a repeated series were shortened, or if the eyes were fixed

and not allowed to move over the field at all, our enjoyment would

cease altogether, or at least be seriously diminished. If we found it

impossible to enjoy the series except when seen for a certain time,

long enough for the eyes to go over it in the rhythm peculiar to each

subject, we should then conclude that our enjoyment did depend, to some

extent, on such temporal rhythm.

I experimented on this question with nine subjects, and the results

brought out different ways of apperceiving repetition, which divided

the observers into two rather well-marked types.

The apparatus was of the simplest, consisting of white silk strings

hung on a wire against a black background across one side of the room.

The strings were attached to the wire by little hooks, which enabled

one to change their position easily, while a cloth hid the weights on

the ends of the strings, so that nothing but the vertical white lines

were visible.

Fifty strings (50 mm. apart) were hung before the subjects, and they

were asked to survey the field and give a signal as soon as the

experience became pleasant. Then having found the average length of

time for each subject to enjoy these simple repetitions, a shorter

period was given when they were to shut their eyes at a given signal,

and see if in that shortened time they were still able to enjoy the

series. Next they fixated the eyes and kept the whole body rigid, to

see if pleasure was still possible when all outward motor response was

checked, so far as possible.

The results of this experiment were very suggestive. Of nine subjects,

all felt pleasure when allowed to move the eyes over the series at

random; with eyes fixed, five felt their pleasure much altered in

its quality as well as lessened, while with one it was altogether

destroyed. With four, however, although there was considerable

alteration in the quality of the pleasure, its amount was increased

rather than lessened.

B. (1) Average time necessary to enjoy the series: 4.7 seconds.

(2) Three-second exposure. No pleasure, needs more time during

the movement.

(3) Eyes fixed: 4 secs. = Av. time necessary to enjoy it. Lines

bunch toward centre and fade away at sides, giving a kind of

unity, but he feels constraint.

R. (1) Av. time: 4.3. Sees them in pairs.

(2) Two-sec. exposure. Very faint pleasure; feels that only a part

is perceived.

(3) Eyes fixed: 4.3. One pair fixated, the others fade away, making

a kind of figure. Pleasure faint and constrained.

L. (1) Av. time: 2.1.

(2) 1-sec. exposure. Pleasure faint and incomplete. He feels the

pleasure comes from memory of the previous experience.

(3) Eyes fixed: 2.2. Great effort to find any pleasure. It consists

mainly in seeing a few strings, and feeling there are others,

even though they are not distinguished.

V. (1) Av. time: 2.2. Sees them in pairs.

(2) 1.5-sec. exposure. Enjoys the experience in memory after the

eyes are shut again.

(3) Eyes fixed: 1.9. Still sees them in pairs, but cannot see enough

of them, hence they are less pleasant.

W. (1) Av. time: 4.3.

(2) 2-sec. exposure. Not enough time to feel any relation between

the strings, most of the pleasure supplied by the memory.

(3) Eyes fixed: 5.3. Pleasure is very faint, and consists in having

the strings appear to converge to a central point, and fade at

the sides.

J. (1) Av. time: 2.3. Sees them in pairs.

(2) 1.5 exposure. Less pleasant.

(3) Eyes fixed: 2.7. Series seems more like a unity and he enjoys

it more, since no time is spent in exploring the field, but it

is one unified experience.

U. (1) Av. time: 28. Only enjoys it by ignoring all except those in

the centre--does not want so many.

(3) Eyes fixed: 18 secs. Enjoys it when eye lights on one string,

so that the others can fade away equally at the sides, in one

figure.

S. (1) Av. time: 5.

(2) 3-sec. exposure. Less pleasant.

(3) Eyes fixed: 8.8. Pleasure consists in converging of lines toward

central point. It appears like one figure and is more intense

than (1).

H. (1) Av. time: 9. Sees them in pairs.

(2) 1 sec. Just as pleasant as before.

(3) Eyes fixed: 4.6. Pleasure in unity of whole series with centre

of fixation emphasized. Only felt pleasure anyhow when the eyes

had stopped moving, so now it comes all the sooner.

From these introspections it is obvious that there are two distinct

ways of apperceiving repetition: One in which the rhythmic element

is pronounced, so that when the time necessary for such a rhythm is

shortened, or by fixating the eyes the motor response is hindered, the

pleasure in the repetition is either altered or destroyed altogether.

The other type takes a repeated series in the sense of a unified

presentation and wants it all at once in a symmetrical whole. The

rhythmic factor is present in both, as is shown by the fact that the

quality of the pleasure was changed in every case when the time of

exposure was shortened. But in the latter type of subject the pleasure

felt in the presentation of the whole at once, and the feeling of

symmetry around a middle point, are more intense than a rhythmic

apperception. These two kinds of apperception remain fairly constant

throughout the experiments, and for convenience' sake we shall call

them spatial and temporal types. With the former, the value of the

experience consists especially in having a central fixation-point from

which the repeated elements fade away equally on the sides, making a

symmetrical whole. With the temporal type, the pleasure is felt by

means of the rhythmical passage from one element of the series to the

other. In passing from point to point the rest of the field still

remains in indirect vision, so to the distinctly temporal a distinctly

spatial factor is also present. For this reason the temporal type of

apperception is the richer of the two, and a description of it comes

more nearly to the essence of repetition as such.

Up to this time, the repeated element had always been a single string.

This was varied and the strings hung in pairs (50 mm. wide, 100 mm.

between pairs). When the strings had hung at equal distances from

each other, six out of the nine subjects had seen them in pairs while

enjoying them, and had found such grouping more or less essential to

enjoyment. In seven cases the pleasure was increased by this grouping.

They expressed their preference in various ways: "Easier to keep track

of where we are going." "Can go quicker over field, for repetitions

are more well-marked." "Single line is too thin to rest on, this gives

broader space for repose." All these introspections instanced the

necessity of the rhythm being marked and made plain, so that there

should be no confusion of point with point. The two who disliked this

grouping were of the spatial type, who found no pleasure in traversing

the field, hence too little content in it, in this arrangement, at

any one time. Grouping of some kind would seem to faciliate the

apperception to a certain class of subjects, while with others the

amount and quality of the content of the field is of more consequence.

Since accents are such an important factor of auditory rhythm, the

next experiment was to see if the apperception of a series of repeated

elements would be facilitated by accenting every other one.

[Illustration: Fig. 1]

Another string was hung in every other pair thus making it more

striking, but here came a difference between the feeling of accent in

auditory and visual rhythms. The subjects declared the pairs in which

a third line was hung were not intensified alone, as when a greater

stress is put on a tone in auditory rhythm, but the pairs were changed

qualitatively. The group of three became the repeated element, while

the pair was only an alternating figure different from the principal

unit. This unanimous testimony brought up a variety of questions.

1. Is any purely _intensive_ accent, without involving qualitative

changes, possible in visual repetition? 2. What factor makes us choose

one object rather than another as the repeated element? 3. What is

the value of the alternating figure in such a series? 4. What is the

value of the empty space between repeated figures, and does it have as

distinct a value as an alternating figure? 5. Are all the recurring

objects and spaces felt as separate repetitions; if so, how many can be

carried on at once?

These questions were put to the subjects in regard to the series just

described with considerable uniformity of answer.

(1) No such thing as purely stress accent seemed possible. The word,

signifying greater intensity without change of quality, did not apply.

If one attempted to _intensify_ the repeated object in any way, either

hanging another string, thickening the strings, or any similar device,

it ceased to be the old unit but became a new one, whose repetition

was followed for its own sake, while the weaker one retired into the

background, and was not _felt_ as the element repeated in the series.

(2) Any regular change of the element which made it more interesting or

caught the attention, fixed it as the chosen unit of the series, whose

repetition was followed.

(3) Concerning the exact _value_ of the alternating figure in the

series, there was great difficulty in introspection. They all "_knew_

the alternate figure was just as truly repeated as the principal

one, but could not feel it so." The three-group formed the unit of

the repeated series, and although the pair was clearly part of the

experience and distinctly perceived, for some reason it was not

felt as repeated in the same way as the other. It was merely an

alternate, a filling, which was essential to the other, but which had

no significance in itself as a repeated thing. Two subjects were able

(if they tried) to carry both repetitions along together, _i. e._, not

only feel the three-groups as coming at regular distances from each

other, but the pairs as forming another interlacing series. This kind

of apperception was very fatiguing, however, and they could not enjoy

it. For any pleasure to be derived, the pairs must retire into the

background, and attention be fastened on the three-group.

(4) If the alternating figure was to be so subordinate, was there any

difference between its significance, and that of an empty space? This

was everywhere answered in the same way. The alternating, or minor

figure, had a very distinct value, and any irregularity in it was even

more irritating than in the principal unit itself. When the space was

empty they thought nothing of it, the equality of the interspacing

was taken for granted; while if they felt an irregularity in it, it

destroyed their pleasure in the whole series. But there was no feeling

for the empty space until its regularity had been violated, while there

was a distinctly pleasant factor in the minor figure, even though

different in quality from the principal element.

In the foregoing experiment the differences between the spatial and

temporal type of observer were still strongly marked. The former type

invariably grouped the elements (usually with the three-group in the

centre and a pair on each side) and they took their pleasure in the

symmetry of each figure so made, moving from the centre of one to the

centre of the next adjacent. In this method of apperception there

was no empty space between repetitions, for the whole group of three

figures was taken as the repeated unit. The empty or rest-phase was

gotten in moving from the centre of one to the next, in which passage

the limiting pair was ignored. One spatial subject, finding the

proportions of this artificial grouping poor, got no enjoyment at all.

With the temporal type, the experience was quite different. They moved

across the field with the three-group as their stopping-points. These

principal elements were what they looked for, and their pleasure seemed

to consist in expecting and meeting it. What part the _pair_ played,

they had difficulty in analyzing. Some said that while the three-groups

occupied most of their attention, they gave a lesser degree to the

pair, so that the rhythm of the passage across was marked by heavier

and lighter beats. Another found the figure in the alternate space

only an obstacle, and felt he was hindered in the passage from unit to

unit, the only compensation being, that the "hindrance" came at regular

distances. Others felt that two repetitions were actually being carried

on at once. By this they meant that the two sets of elements were kept

distinct, although objectively combined, but the repetition of the pair

was subordinate in interest to that of the three-groups.

I tested the same thing (accents or major elements, and the value of

the alternating minor elements) by simply doubling every other string

of the series 50 mm. apart. In every case the effect was found poor.

It was "confusing," "too much work." They all felt adjusted to the

repetition of the double string and then encountered the single one,

which hindered them, and by trying to keep both elements going at once

they were fatigued. Most of them had a distinct feeling that they

wanted to swing from one element to the next, and were baffled by the

alternate. In this arrangement, even members of the spatial type who

had not been able to get any rhythmic feeling before, felt the movement

in the series as if they were going across, although they went (in

two cases) in groups instead of single elements. They all, however,

felt the single string as an obstacle which hindered their enjoyment,

whether the double string or a group was taken as element. This

suggested the question: What makes the difference between the minor

figure being an enrichment to the experience and being a hindrance?

They insisted some rest-period was necessary; some really empty space

between the repeated units, and when in place of rest they had more to

do, it spoilt the pleasure.

[Illustration: Fig. 2]

Next, two strings were hung at equal distances between the double

strings, and the latter put 100 mm. instead of 50 mm. apart. This was

liked better in every case, and the reasons given were much alike.

The double string was still the repeated unit, while the two strings

between did not _feel_ repeated. In spite of the obvious inconsistency

of the statement that they did not _feel_ the alternates to be repeated

even when they knew that they were so, just as much as the double

string, several subjects made the same remark. V. felt the series as

a rhythm, where the double strings were all he was interested in,

although he knew he should notice if the others were changed. B. could

not detect that they were of any importance, except as he imagined them

absent. B. could feel either the double strings or the two strings

between them as the major unit, only, whichever one he took, the

other retired into obscurity. He felt the minor units in a different

way as being repeated together with the majors, but very weakly, and

not at all unless he previously considered that he ought to do so.

L. said his attention was fastened on the double strings, but it was

the "effort or ease with which he passed over the alternates which

formed the pleasure." Another temporal subject felt the rhythm as the

others did, with more emphasis on the double strings. But the major

units seemed the _rest-phase_ in his rhythm, _i. e._, he paused here

in observation of the series, although his attention was most active;

_vice versa_, the minor units required little attention, but were the

active or moving parts of the rhythm. Since they all considered the

strings in the alternate space merely as steps or lesser beats on the

way to the major element which they sought, and as obstacles rather

than otherwise, why did they prefer the space with two strings rather

than one? This suggested that some factor in the alternate spaces was

important other than simply the amount of resistance to overcome in

getting past the two lines. In answer to this they could only say that

the two strings in the alternate space formed a pleasanter unity by

itself, although, as they went across, they did not think of it in

terms of unity.

What, then, is the real rest-phase of the rhythm of alternating

repeated objects?

In the beginning of the discussion, when the analogy between visual and

auditory rhythm was felt so strongly in a certain type of subject, they

had expressed themselves as if the object which they called the unit of

the repeated series were the active stimulated part of the experience,

while the alternate space was the rest-phase, valuable only as a period

of repose or blankness before the object was again encountered. But

in this case, although they felt they were putting no attention or

emphasis on this space, in reality they were keenly alive to what was

hung in it, even preferring more "hindrance" in the way of strings

than less, which suggested that the alternate space was of more value

than they were conscious of. (Some of this increase in pleasure was of

course due to the increased actual distance between the double strings,

but some also to the extra string.) The introspection on this question

as to which part of the rhythm was actually the rest-phase (if there

were any such) was difficult for them all. They felt they spent more

_time_ on the major element; that was what they looked for and found

pleasure in meeting again.

One said, "The unit is what I look for; as soon as I have it the

pleasure ends and I want to move on again. The pleasure does not

consist in resting on it after it is found, but in knowing I am going

to meet it again, and in doing so." As to the alternate spaces, he

could only say he was not consciously interested in them, he took

them for granted, but knew he should feel it, if they were changed.

His feeling for them was wholly negative. The other temporal subjects

agreed essentially with this. The alternate figures had to be passed,

but passing them was only of importance as it helped or hindered the

perceiving of the major elements. All agreed that any change was

noticed and felt irritating at once, although they could not understand

how it should, since so little attention was paid them normally.

One subject felt the alternating strings only as obstacles between

the doubles, and demanded an actual, empty rest-period between any

repeated units. When asked if it were really the rest-period _between_

elements or _on_ them, he said he felt there was a complete discharge

of attention on the major units, and an attempted one on the minor or

alternate units, and the attempted ones became confused.

These introspections would point to the fact that alternate minor

spaces while affording rest for the attention were periods of activity

of some other kind. The fact that no one could say _what_ kind, and yet

insisted on the feeling of its being important and distinctive, and

moreover repudiated the idea of change in a minor space even more than

in a major--this seemed to show that there was a value in the alternate

spaces quite aside from attention, but fully as distinct in its own way.

As might be expected, those of my subjects to whom rhythm was not a

conscious factor of the experience of repetition could not understand

exactly what was meant by the distinction between _rest-phase_ and

_emphasis_ of rhythm. In all the preceding cases where the temporal

type gave the introspection I have described, the spatial subjects

grouped the single lines, in Fig. 2, about the heavier pair as centre,

and moved from the centre of one such group to the next. The experience

then consisted of a succession of adjacent symmetrical groups,

connected by movement from centre to centre. When asked if there was no

pleasure in finding equal distances between their centres, _i. e._, any

temporal element whatever, they all denied feeling any. They could not

detect that they _felt_ the distances between their centres as equal,

although they _knew_ them to be. They spent so much attention on the

group that all feeling of the distance between its centre and the last

was lost before going on to the next.

These two marked types of apperception of an alternating series seem

varieties of _emphasis_, rather than of actual experience. It was

evident that those in the spatial type must have some recollection of

the amount of distance passed over between the various groups to feel

the whole series as connected in any way; while those of the temporal

type could not be wholly absorbed with the separate lines of the series

as they traversed it, but were distinctly conscious of the space

relations of those in the side of the field that they had just passed

or were coming to.

[Illustration: Fig. 3]

Next, I tried to see what were the different factors which made up the

value of the minor spaces. By varying both their size and filling, and

doing the same to the major element, I could judge the relative value

of these changes on the two, and their effect on the whole series.

The test was made in the following manner. The series as it stood

consisted of a double line alternating with a single one.

With every temporal subject the double line was conceived to be the

repeated thing, and the space between considered as an alternate,

with a repeated line of its own, to be sure, but not felt in the

same way as the other. With the spatial type, the single line was

merely the limiting edge of the symmetrical figure, with a double

line in the centre. One subject varied back and forth in his method

of apperception, and considered the richness and variety of these

different apperceptions as one of the chief sources of the pleasure

therein.

_Variation of alternating spaces:_ The minor spaces were varied by

hanging two strings in one, and one in the other, and subject asked how

such a change affected his feeling for them. The change was marked.

The spaces which had before been minor were so no longer. The alternate

space in which two strings were hung with the boundary-line of the two

double strings became the new element, and the alternate in which only

_one_ string was hung continued to be the alternate in the new series.

The whole series shifted itself, and settled into a new equilibrium.

Some of the subjects were able to feel all the former minor spaces

still as such, but only by a definite effort, and not while taking any

pleasure in it. The change in the alternates spoilt the whole scheme of

the repetition as it already stood, and made a regrouping necessary. I

next tried varying alternates by removing a string at intervals.

[Illustration: Fig. 4]

[Illustration: Fig. 5]

Since the strings were not removed in any regular fashion, and because

the subject could not find any possible consecutive way to group them

with the double strings, this variation was partially overlooked,

and although confusing the series somewhat, repetition of the double

strings could still be felt. Thus a mere _gap_ where the scheme

remained the same was not so disturbing as an extra feature inserted,

or one noticeably changed. Something could be supplied by the subject,

but not altered so easily. In these cases, however, the change was only

tolerated because it was ignored. They felt it as a mistake and so

overlooked it, but, accepted as a component part of the series, it was

impossible to feel it as a repetition or get pleasure from it.

[Illustration: Fig. 6]

The next variation was in the position of alternate figures. With

a three-group as the major element of the repetition and a pair of

strings in the alternate space, the size of the two minor spaces

was altered, thus making the distance between the three-group and

adjacent pair shorter than between that and the next three-group. This

immediately threw out the feeling for the old series and made a new

one. The new series thus formed varied with the different subjects,

although no particular difference was noticed between spatial and

temporal types. They all disliked the new arrangement, in whichever

of a variety of ways it was apperceived. (It will be noted the actual

distance between the three-groups was not varied, but the size of the

spaces each side of the minor figure, _i. e._, the minor figure was

shifted from its central position.) One typical spatial subject took

it in either of three ways: (1) He grouped the three-group and pair

nearest together, into the repeated element of the new series; (2)

he ignored the pair and regarded it as a repetition of three-groups;

or (3) ignored the difference in the division of the alternates, and

regarded them as alike. The artificiality of the latter methods of

taking the series is evident. What pleasure survived after such a

strain was very slight, and was moreover not of the series as given,

but as imagined differently, which was not a valid judgment. Most of

the subjects grouped both figures into one, and, finding the unity thus

made ugly and unsymmetrical, derived no pleasure from it. One tried to

keep both elements in separate series and have them go along together,

equally distant from those of their own kind, although not from each

other. This was, however, very fatiguing and unsatisfactory. Those

who grouped the different figures said they did so because they could

not help it, not because they liked it, and said it was impossible

to regard the alternate figure as such, if varied from its central

position. If they were all varied together, they were grouped, with

the major unit, into a new one. If varied irregularly the series was

spoiled--no rhythm whatever remained. It became a heap.

Next, I tried varying the size of the alternate spaces, keeping the

filling in its central position.

[Illustration: Fig. 7]

Here also it was universally regrouped. They found it more difficult

to feel the rhythm of the three-groups as separate elements than when

the minor spaces had remained uniform in size, but different in the

position of the filling. The alternate space, then, which had at first

seemed the unimportant part of the rhythm and for which no subject

could assign any conscious value whatever, was evidently a potent

factor of the experience, and when varied either in size or filling

(especially the former) it not only changed the feeling-tone, but

shifted the entire scheme of the rhythm, or broke it up altogether.

_Variation of major units:_ Was variation more allowable in the major

than in the minor unit of a series? This was tested first in the same

manner as for accents. In a series of which a double string was the

major element, a third string was hung with every such double, thus

changing the unit in both size and content.

[Illustration: Fig. 8]

The series immediately readjusted itself with the three-group as

element for most of the subjects, although one was still able to feel

them all as one unit, varied by the added string. Varying only the

_size_ of the major unit gave the same result.

[Illustration: Fig. 9]

The pairs, instead of remaining the same size, were made alternately

larger and smaller, and a new repetition was made, _i. e._, with the

larger pair as major element and the smaller one as minor. They all

agreed, however, that less change was made in these cases than when the

_minor_ spaces had been changed in size. In the latter case either a

regrouping was made, changing the whole character of the series, or it

was spoiled altogether. With change of _major_ units alone, however,

although a new element was made, it was still possible to take it in

the old way without much difficulty or change in feeling-tone.

It was then necessary to see how change of content would affect the

major unit, the size remaining constant. A group of two sets of double

strings 10 ccm. apart was taken as the repeated element, and these

groups placed at 10 ccm. from each other.

[Illustration: Fig. 10]

Within one element was hung one string, and within the next two, thus

varying the content while the size remained constant. In every case the

answer was the same. It was not so pleasant as when the filling was the

same, but the group still remained the unit of the repetition, and the

series essentially the same.

Several variations were made in this element. Instead of hanging

strings regularly (1 in one, and 2 in the next) they were hung

irregularly, _i. e._, an extra one here and there at intervals in no

special order. As long as the boundary-lines of each group remained

at the same distance from each other, and from the next group, thus

keeping the unit at uniform size, although the pleasure-tone varied,

the balance of the series was not changed. No regrouping or shifting of

the equilibrium resulted.

It would seem from the preceding experiments that in any series

variation of the _major unit_ was tolerated more than of the

_alternate;_ while in _either case_ variation in _content_ had less

influence than variation in _size_.

_Symmetry:_ In the previous experiment, three subjects had insisted on

symmetry as a necessary attribute both of the unit and its alternate.

U. (spatial type) described his experience as "a succession of

symmetrical experiences or states of equilibrium; when they are not so,

they must be regrouped, or pleasure is impossible." R. (temporal type)

insisted especially on the necessity of the alternate figure being

symmetrical as regards the major units, _i. e._, halfway between them;

and also on symmetry as regards itself. One temporal subject said

there was some pleasure in merely going from one unit to the next, even

though no repose was possible on each because of its asymmetry. This

suggested experiments on the importance of symmetry in repeated series.

Is it necessary that the separate elements of a series be symmetrical?

Must both major and minor element be symmetrical? Does this necessity

vary according to the temporal or spatial type of the subject, _i. e._,

is it more necessary to the spatial type, whose pleasure depends more

on repose in the unit, than to the temporal type, whose enjoyment rests

mainly in the rhythm of movement from one unit to the next? Or is it a

common demand? This experiment was begun in the following simple way.

The strings were hung in two group-forms; one with three and the other

with four.

[Illustration: Fig. 11]

This was a symmetrical grouping and uniformly pleasant. The series was

then changed by removing the second string in the four-group, thereby

making it unsymmetrical.

[Illustration: Fig. 12]

This change made the repetition less pleasant in every case, but did

not spoil it. Instead of the four-groups becoming more prominent they

seemed less so, and the three-group on account of its "compactness"

became in most cases the major element, thereby shifting the balance

of the repetition, but not detracting very much from the pleasure.

Next the three-group was changed by moving the middle string to the

left. By this means the group which had been minor in Fig. 11, became

unsymmetrical, while the four-group was regular.

[Illustration: Fig. 13]

This change was preferred to that in Fig. 12, although different

reasons were given. One said it was because this change in arrangement

made the elements more distinct, hence easier to keep apart, while in

Fig. 12 they were made more alike. Moreover, one element seemed as

important as the other. He did not class them as major or minor, so

he could not compare the relative values of symmetry in principal and

alternate units, for in this series he did not feel the distinction.

The other answers to this question were rather incoherent, but the

series did not seem to suffer much change, either pleasantly or

otherwise. Since lack of symmetry in _the element_ was at least

tolerated in the examples already given, would it be allowable so

to place the units that the two adjacent to any one unit should

lie unsymmetrically on either side, that is, may the elements lie

unsymmetrically with regard to one another? Suppose a four-group to be

repeated at regular intervals, and a three-group likewise; if the two

series were combined, must they occur halfway between each other? That

is, must they be symmetrically placed as regards the intervening space,

or could they be put to one side?

[Illustration: Fig. 14]

The subject was asked not to group them (as in previous similar

arrangements), but to keep them as separate repetitions if possible,

and to see if this equal distance was necessary to keep them apart.

The result was the same in all cases. The subjects could not help

grouping them, and found it impossible to keep them distinct unless

so much effort was put into it that no pleasure was left. They said

they "_knew_ each unit was as equally distant from the next unit in

its _own_ series, as if it did not come at unequal distances from the

units in the other, but they could not feel it so, and were obliged

to group the two together." For this reason the experiments did not

satisfactorily illustrate the point in question. It was necessary

to have a series of elements whose unity was more strongly marked,

and whose different parts would still remain one _whole_ even after

variations, instead of shifting into each other. It was suggested

by these imperfect experiments that symmetry was _not_ so important

a factor in the different units of a series as the subjects had

previously supposed; but that, on the other hand, the different units

must be placed at equal distances from each other, if they are to be

kept distinct either as two series or as one. Moreover, that _two_

series could not be kept distinctly in mind as separate, _anyway_,

without fatigue, the tendency being always to group them into one

series with a new repeated element, composed of a combination of the

other two. It was necessary, however, to test this more completely. By

a simple device the former series was changed radically, so that the

difficulties mentioned were overcome. The strings of both the three

and four groups were twisted together at the bottom, thus binding them

closely into separate unities. By remaining attached at the bottom,

whatever variations might occur elsewhere in the figures, they could

not lose their individuality and become merged in each other as before.

They remained distinct groups without effort on the part of the subject.

[Illustration: Fig. 15]

With this I began as in the previous experiment. The subject was asked

to look at the series of repetitions, enjoy them as much as possible,

telling what was the pleasant factor in the experience, and how he

apperceived the series. The subjects separated into types as before;

the spatial type immediately grouping the elements into a larger

unity and enjoying the groups more for their own sake than for their

repetition, while the temporal type went from one to the next in the

series, enjoying the _rhythm_ more than the elements as such. (It may

be remarked here that the subjects were perfectly naïve as to their

apperception. They did not know they were separated into types, nor

were they urged to be consistent. Even the experimenter did not know

of the distinctness with which these types separated themselves, and

consistently held to their own method of apperception, until looking

over the records afterwards.)

With the temporal type the four-group was the major group. Some

expressed its prominence in terms of _time_, _i. e._, they spent more

time on it, and less on the three-group. One felt it as emphasized,

because he moved from one four-group to the next like it, and at each

step moved back and forth from left to right, to see the alternate

three-groups on each side, always _resting_ on the four-groups.

It is noticeable with these subjects, in whom the rhythmic element

was more strongly developed, that although they admitted that the

language of "temporal rhythm" did not adequately cover their experience

(because the element did not disappear after perception as in auditory

rhythm, but remained in the visual field), still they could not express

themselves in other terms. L., the most extreme of this type, insisted

that the experience of repetition would be exactly as pleasant if he

saw the elements pass one by one behind a moving window, with never

more than one in the field at once. In other words, their temporal

relations were all he felt.

The others did not go so far as this, and agreed to the significance of

the whole field, even while especially interested in passing from one

to the next. B. partook of the characteristics of both types, and by

combining the apperceptions of both bridged the chasm between them.

With the four spatial subjects, the apperception showed its usual

divergence. Three grouped the elements, either with the three-group

in the centre on account of its being more compact and graceful, or

the four-group because it was heavier. One of them could group it

either way, distinguishing between the prominence in an element due

to _interest_ and due to _beauty_, _i. e._, he found the four-group

more noticeable and interesting on account of its size, while the

three-group was more beautiful as a unity, on account of its proportion

and grace. Therefore according as one factor or the other predominated,

one or the other figure was taken as the more prominent element, and

placed in the centre of the group. Sometimes they separated into two

series running along together, but this was not usual.

Having got these varied introspections, with yet a certain likeness

running through them, the balance of the four-group and of the

three-group were varied in turns, to see how the change in symmetry of

elements would affect the series; and the relative value of symmetry

for the major and minor units of a series.

First, the four-group was altered, by moving the second string further

to the left, while the three-group remained symmetrical.

[Illustration: Fig. 16]

In three cases this arrangement was preferred to the regular one

previous, and each time for the same reason. The four-group was

made more noticeable by being unsymmetrical, and hence more easily

distinguished from the other. The two were easier kept apart, and the

alternation between the two was made more clear-cut and obvious. With

others the change was unpleasant for the reason that it affected them

in an exactly opposite manner. The four-group _lost_ its individuality,

and, by separation into two unsymmetrical parts, could not be

distinguished so well from the three-groups as formerly, hence the

effect was spoiled.

A distinction was made between the relative _importance_ and _interest_

attached to the units, when symmetrical and when unsymmetrical.

Every one agreed that making the four-group unsymmetrical gave it

more prominence of a certain kind. With the first three subjects

mentioned, this prominence was enough to accent the rhythm still more

than before, and differentiate the two units more strongly. But with

the other there was a feeling that while it gained prominence and was

more _noticeable_, it lost coherence and interest, thence it could not

be kept as the principal unit, but the attention passed over to the

three-group which maintained its unity.

It would seem, then, that the mere fact of one unit in a series

alternating with another, and being more noticeable, taking up a larger

space, being more complicated, etc., did not insure its being the chief

unit in the series. One subject voiced essentially the feeling of all,

in his comment on the series: "There is a constant struggle between

the prominence which the four-group gains from size and eccentricity,

and the insignificance which it deserves on account of its looseness

and lack of unity; it cannot hold its own as one individual thing,

and because the three-group still does, it becomes in one way more

prominent, while the four-group remains so in another." Another subject

felt he gave more _time_ to the four-group than before, because being

separated it would not bind together again without effort. At the same

time the three-group gained in interest because it was easy to find

and did not vary. Another subject felt that the _time_ spent on a unit

had nothing to do with its rhythm; it was all a matter of interest and

attention. Often he looked a longer time at one unit, choosing another

for the chief element in his series, because it interested him more.

All this introspection brought out two things clearly:

(1) The apperception of a series of alternating units, whether of the

spatial or temporal type, is not fixed, but any variation of its unit

is liable to shift the emphasis. Thus, as in the present case, when a

symmetrical major unit is made unsymmetrical, it may not remain the

principal unit, but becomes the minor one, because the attention shifts

to the other which was before relatively unimportant.

(2) Whether either element shall be the principal one or not, does not

depend wholly on its objective prominence, but on the amount of beauty

or interest which it holds for the observer. Neither size, complexity,

nor eccentricity can force a certain unit to be taken as the major in a

series, unless it thereby presents an interest which makes the observer

choose it.

The next change was to vary the three-group in a similar way, by

pushing the middle string to the left, thereby making it unsymmetrical.

[Illustration: Fig. 17]

The responses were as follows: Five said it did more violence to the

series to have the alternate varied than the major unit; it was more

confusing. Three preferred it, giving as their reason that it made

the elements more different from each other than before, hence more

easily distinguished. The preponderance of evidence was, therefore,

that, although any variation from symmetry in a unit was likely to

be detrimental to the repetition, it was more likely to be tolerable

in the major unit than in the alternate space. In either case it was

demanded that the two units be distinctly different, and it depended

on the individual subject, whether in this experiment the variation

of one unit or the other brought out this distinction more obviously.

Aside from this consideration, however, it appeared that the alternate

spaces as such required equilibrium more than the principal unit.

Also, variation of symmetry in the major unit, while it made it more

prominent in the way of _eccentricity_, also made the symmetrical minor

unit more prominent in the way of _interest_. As one subject expressed

it, "Since the others vary, the attention requires something which does

_not_ vary, and forces prominence on the minor unit, because it remains

symmetrical"; and "The minor unit is too small to merit such prominence

as it gets by lack of symmetry. It is distorted, and has not enough

content to bear it."

These introspections from temporal and spatial subject alike, all point

to the fact of a certain _value_ attached to the alternating units in

a series. (1) The units must not be too much alike in _interest_, or

they rival each other. (2) They must not have more prominence given

them as regards the whole than they have interest to sustain. (3) There

must be a congruity between the two elements so that one shall not be

noticeable in one way, and one in another, thus carrying the attention

in two different directions.

One more thing was suggested by this experiment: (4) The subjects who

had invariably _grouped_ their different elements in other series found

it very difficult to do so in this, or wholly impossible. None of them

did so when taking the series naturally, but moved on from one to the

next just as the rhythmic type did. They felt "forced to move on," "no

place to rest," while one in whom the rhythmic feeling was weakest was

much fatigued by this movement, and insisted on having something stable

to rest upon if he was to gain any pleasure at all.

Next the series was varied by making both units unsymmetrical; first

with the balance tipping the same, and second in opposite ways.

Those who preferred this gave essentially the same reason. They agreed

that the unity of both elements was broken up by this change, and they

did not stand out distinctly from each other; but all felt a certain

_congruity_ in having both major and minor units follow the same scheme

in composition. They were not distinctly an alternating series, but

harmonized better as lines. The two spatial subjects, who disliked this

arrangement more than the other, gave the same reason: the unity of the

elements was spoiled, they did not "hang together." Their dislike was

similar in kind to that of the others, only the congruity which made

up for it with the former failed to satisfy these. With the symmetry

broken and the balance tipping in different ways, the feeling was not

strong in either direction. They still criticised it in the same terms

of congruity and distinctness, with no especial change on account of

this modification.

[Illustration: Fig. 18 A]

[Illustration: Fig. 18 B]

These experiments all pointed to the fact that (1) a certain amount

of congruity and equality was necessary between elements of a series

(although it did not establish what were the essential features of such

a harmony). (2) It is more pleasant, as a rule, to have the elements

symmetrical, although symmetry was not a necessity for an agreeable

series. (3) Provided the change in the symmetry of the units was not

enough to shift the whole order of the series, changing the major to

minor units (and _vice versa_), any varying of the symmetry of a minor

unit was more disturbing to the repetition than of the major, while

varying their symmetrical position, as regards the unit on either side,

was absolutely destructive to the order.

The next experiment dealt with a different side of the question. Since

the unit of a repeated series may be a group with repetitions inside

itself, does the repetition of lines or figures _inside_ the group

differ from the repetition of the groups as a whole? If so, how? That

is, in the enjoyment of a series of groups with repeated lines in the

group, in what respect does our apperception of the repetition differ

in the two cases? Or does it in reality differ at all?

To test this, the strings were arranged in the following way. 10 groups

of five strings were hung 100 mm. wide and 100 mm. apart. Each unit

had, then, five repetitions within it.

[Illustration: Fig. 19]

The arrangement was pleasant to all the subjects, and they described

the effect of the experience, falling at once into the spatial and

temporal types as before (this was wholly naïve, for the same questions

were asked of each, and they had no idea of being grouped in types).

The introspection of both types must be taken in some detail, to fully

analyze the experience.

_Spatial:_ J. felt he took in all groups at once. Each unit seemed like

a rich experience in itself, but he could not detect any rhythm in it,

nor in the whole series. The pleasure consisted in getting a number of

similar objects in the field at once, and enjoying the combination of

them all, feeling that they stretched away in each direction. H. and U.

grouped several unit-groups into a larger unity and enjoyed the cluster

as a whole. They did not group them in any particular system, nor could

they detect the slightest pleasure in moving from one such group to the

next. One found his enjoyment solely in the contrast effects in each,

while the other laid it to the space relations of each independently.

The pleasure only came when each group of groups was spread before

him. Those outside the immediate field meant nothing to him, and the

movement between them had absolutely no conscious interest for him.

S. said that enjoyment stopped altogether during motion of any kind,

and the experience was pleasant only during total repose, on whatever

happened to be in his field at once.

With the temporal type came a marked difference in apperception.

B. affirmed the pleasure to _consist_ in going from one cluster to

another, and to _begin_ just at the point where he meets the next

stimulation and feels it is _going to be_ the same as the one previous.

It is the _expectation_, rather than the _verification_ recurring at

intervals, which makes up the pleasure; not the actual movement, or

subsequent contemplation of a group. The pleasure came in pulses; in

knowing by seeing from the side of the eyes that the experience _is to

be_ repeated, and on reaching the edge of a new group, in the feeling

that the experience is just about to begin.

R. felt that she "wriggled around" in each group of lines, and that a

certain _feeling_ came from "wriggling" among the lines in a particular

fashion.

The pleasure consisted in having this feeling recur at regular

intervals. The repetitions inside the group and of the group as a whole

differed in this respect: For the separate unit-group, it apparently

consisted in repeated short irregular movements, back and forth, enough

to bring about a certain feeling which seemed pleasant and sufficient

unto itself. Repetition of the groups as a whole meant movement across

the field in one direction, for the purpose of meeting another group,

and getting the required feeling from it again. The pleasure was not in

the movement or in any repose (she could detect no repose at all), but

in experiencing the group again, feeling that it had been so before,

and would be again.

L. (the most extreme of the temporal type) agreed with R. that the

lines inside the group were perceived and enjoyed _temporally_, as well

as the groups as a whole. There was no experiencing the groups _at

once_. He felt that he moved regularly across the field encountering

five lines, one after the other, then an empty space, then five lines

more. The only meaning which the group as such had for him was the

five accents which came near one another in time. He could feel no

unity whatever apart from this. He was even certain that his pleasure

would be identical if in some mechanical way the same figure could be

pushed forward, so that the same amount of time and movement would be

necessary to reach it that was required to move from one figure to

the next on the field. The experience was in every way analogous to

auditory rhythm with him, and he was unable to express himself in other

than temporal terms. Immediate perception, repose on the object, or

groupings, had no significance for him.

The other two subjects were links between the extremes already

described. They could feel each group, and sometimes even the whole

series _at once_ apparently, and yet were all the time conscious of

a certain rhythm in going from one to the next. The whole experience

seemed immediate at first, but on reflection a certain alternate

rhythm was felt to be present, which was too rapid to take any

considerable time, but yet had to be included as a factor in the

experience. These introspections I believe to throw light on the nature

of the whole experience of repetition. Since there are two methods

of apperception so extreme, but moreover certain subjects partake of

the characteristics of both, it might seem that both types represent

but _one_ side of the experience. Since both are enjoying the same

objective series, but in their description of their feeling in face of

it emphasize such different sides (leaving at the same time the other

side unaccounted for), and since certain subjects share the experience

of both, it might be that the sum of both methods of apperception was

necessary to the fullest appreciation of the repetition in question,

only in certain subjects one aspect of it was so much stronger that the

other possible factors in the experience were overlooked.

It would tend to bear out this view, that when it was suggested to

those of the temporal type (always excepting L.) that according to

their description the other groups remaining in the field, after

having performed their part in a temporal series, _ought_ to have no

further influence in the repetition, whereas they did in reality, they

admitted the fact, but could not account for it. Moreover, those of

the spatial type admitted that their enjoyment in having spaces equal,

and in having repeated objects exactly like one another, had a certain

character which no other experience possessed. This did not seem

accounted for by any description they could give of its effect on them,

although they could not detect what this other elusive factor might be.

These introspections, therefore, and the confessions on the part of

both that there was a feeling of something _more_ which they could

not hold long enough to describe, suggested that both types were but

opposite ends of a series of possible apperceptive types, and that in

both cases certain essential features were emphasized at the expense of

the others.

After these experiments, the next step was to find how a series of

groups was apperceived when the lines in each group were arranged

symmetrically about a centre, as distinguished from their arrangement

at invariable distances apart. The same number and size of groups were

taken, but the arrangement of lines in each varied as stated above.

[Illustration: Fig. 20]

_Spatial subjects:_ J. felt a different kind of pleasure from that

felt with Fig. 19. Here the enjoyment was in each unit for itself, a

certain repose in its symmetry. Although he fixated on the centre of

the groups, and in going across the field moved from centre to centre,

there was no feeling of rhythm whatever, merely enjoyment of the unit

itself. Moreover, although he had _detected_ no rhythm in the previous

experience, this one seemed distinctly different in having lost a

feature that the other had. He felt by comparison that the other had

had a temporal character, some movement in the groups, which was wholly

lacking in this. This was more beautiful and restful, the other more

exciting and rich.

H. and S. both enjoyed this series better on account of possibility

of greater repose in the unit-groups. The pleasure was solely in each

unit for itself, not in their repetition, so the group which offered

most balance and equilibrium in itself was pleasantest. S. also found

enjoyment in slight variations in the groups (trifling difference in

distance, different light effect, etc.). It is noticeable that when

repetition alone was the main feature of the series, any variation was

either ignored or found unpleasant. But when the unit for itself is the

object of enjoyment, variation if slight is another element of pleasure.

There is also pleasure in the mere _repeating_ of symmetrical groups,

although, when the attention is turned to this feature, the feeling of

_symmetry_ is less felt. Even when attending chiefly to the repetition

of the groups, the symmetry of each is felt somewhat, which makes the

whole experience better than Fig. 19, but the two attitudes seem to

hinder, rather than help each other.

This introspection was suggestive, giving rise to two more questions:

(1) When is variation allowable, and when not? Is it adapted only to

objects when taken, as ends-in-themselves, and not when considered as

means to something else, _i. e._, as means to make a series or border,

or anything which takes attention from themselves as unities with

individual meaning? (2) Is a distinctly symmetrical group as adapted

to repetition, as such, as one with merely equal divisions? Does it

not tend more to repose in itself, instead of to the motion necessary

for the apperception of a repeated series? These questions will be

considered later.

_Temporal type:_ R. felt a difference in the movement across, in that

in Fig. 20 it was from the centre of one unit to the next, while in

Fig. 19 there was no regularity in the movement.

L. felt the difference between the two apperceptions very strongly. In

Fig. 20 the movements seemed organized. He felt as if his attention

(if not his eyes) went back and forth from edge to edge of the unit,

finally settling in the centre; while in Fig. 19 the very essence

of the apperception was that every line was compared with every

other, meaning a great number of movements in both directions, _not_

stopping in the centre. If he did rest finally in the centre, in the

unit of Fig. 19, instead of seeming evenly repeated, it too became

symmetrically perceived, but the usual way to get from one such unit to

the next was to move _from_ and _to_ any point in the next adjacent,

other than the central one. In either case the pleasure came in

identification of the second figure with the first, and the feeling, "I

have seen it before." The pleasure lay in the process of recurrence of

sameness.

V. also, who had not felt much motion in Fig. 19 at first, felt it

strongly now in comparison with Fig. 20. He said in the former,

although he did not make actual movements across (in fact his eyes

were plainly at rest), he was sure he felt "dispositions to do so"

which were lacking in Fig. 20. The pleasure came in the first moment of

repose after finding the new unit was the same as the old.

After we had investigated the different methods of apperceiving groups

of repeated lines, and compared the effects of different groupings,

and studied the feeling of one unit alternating with another, another

question arose.

These questions had all referred to the alternation of _two_ units;

either a unit with an empty space, or with a space of different

filling. How did the apperception differ when _three_ repeated units

alternated with each other? To test this, three spaces were taken

equally wide (110 mm.) and equally distant from each other (150 mm.),

but with three different designs within them. These designs were of

the same general character and importance although different, and

repeated themselves regularly.

[Illustration: Fig. 21]

The subjects were asked as before to describe their reaction on the

series. Not one of all the number was able to _feel_ the repetition

of the three units; what pleasure they got from the series (if indeed

they got any) was from other sources. The general type of answer was

formulated more fully by L. He saw 1, then looked for 2 and found it

different, but could have included it in the series if it were not for

3. That being still different sent 1 and 2 out of mind, so that he

could not _feel_ any repetition of 1 when he met it again. He felt a

certain sense of repetition in that the spacing and general motifs were

the same, but there was no pleasure in that. What pleasure he got was

wholly intellectual, not immediate, except for a slight pleasure in

their uniformity of position. In him the rhythmic feeling had always

been of the strongest, but he found in this experience none whatever.

It was simply impossible to keep the three units going at once. Another

temporal subject tried to group 2 and 3 as one element, with one as

an alternate, thus reducing it to a rhythm of twos. This process was

labored, but otherwise no enjoyment was possible. The spatial subjects

derived what pleasure they could, either from the units separately,

with no regard to their repetition, or from some method of grouping, by

which their difference could be overlooked. One expressed his pleasure

solely in terms of contrast of the white strings against a black

ground. Any immediate feeling for the repetition was impossible for

either type. It will be noticed that the _feeling_ of the repetition is

quite different from the _knowing_ it is there. They were all perfectly

conscious that 1 was repeated again after 3, but could not _feel_ it,

while repeated simply after 2, they _could_ feel it.

Next, the series was varied again. The size of the blocks, instead of

being alike, was varied three ways, while the designs remained similar.

[Illustration: Fig. 22]

The interspaces were 150 mm. in every case, but 1 was 150 mm. wide; 2 =

110 mm.; 3 = 70 mm. All the spatial subjects found Fig. 22 worse than

Fig. 21. The irregularity and general disorder was more pronounced.

Although the rhythm had never consciously given them pleasure, and,

when not violated, was never noticed, still the threefold difference

in size violates some feeling which they can only express in rhythmic

terms. Some tried to group the three units into a larger group, but

this being unsymmetrical displeased them. Others picked out the most

satisfactorily proportioned unit and ignored the others, but any

possible apperception was irritating. The temporal subjects found it

equally poor. They felt the continual dissatisfaction of having their

expectation, that the adjacent unit should be the same, disappointed.

They all said that they could carry the feeling of repetition over

_one_ dissimilar unit (_i. e._, in an alternating series of two

different units), but that the third difference completely upset

the scheme. When only the filling varied as in Fig. 21, it could be

partially ignored, but difference in size could not be ignored, and

only the equal distances apart kept them from being a heap. They could

not _feel_ the evenness of the empty interspaces, however. They were

not consciously present in the experience at all, they merely _knew_

they must be even. There was no feeling-tone whatever to the empty

alternates.

Only one subject preferred Fig. 22 to Fig. 21, and the reason was

obvious. 1, 2, and 3 appeared as the same unit where variation in size

was apperceived as due to perspective. Thus, instead of appearing as

three units repeated, they were one set which progressed by means of

"pulsations" or regular intervals of perspective. This gave an added

richness to the rhythm, and was very pleasant. As three separate units

of different size, there was no meaning in the series whatever.

It is evident from these introspections that, although the likes and

dislikes may vary, the principles on which they are based have much in

common.

The points on which they agreed unanimously were the following:

(1) There is no feeling of repetition for three separate units. The

series may be enjoyed by means of subjective grouping of one kind or

another, but as separate elements, the feeling of repetition is broken

by adding the third.

(2) There is a distinction between perceiving or _knowing_ a

repetition, and _feeling_ it. Even though a subject is equally

conscious that elements are repeated according to some scheme in two

different cases, he may feel it in one case and not in the other.

(3) The empty spaces between the elements have no conscious part to

play in the experience. Even when there is a figure in the alternate

space, it comes very little into consciousness as part of the

repetition, yet it is alterations in these alternates which make or mar

the feeling of repetition. A series may not be beautiful in itself, but

if the alternates are regular, it _feels_ repeated. _Vice versa_, the

units may be enjoyable in themselves, but they do not feel repeated

unless the alternates are regular and conform to certain requirements.

In the units lies the _meaning_ of the repetition, in the regular

alternates the possibility of its expression.

(4) The rhythmic character of repetition is not felt by a certain type

of subject, when it goes smoothly. When a variation is made which would

destroy any possible rhythm, its lack is felt, and its violation finds

expression only in rhythmic terms.

(5) More violation is done to a series to have the _size_ of units

varied than the filling. (This corroborates previous experiments.)

(6) A certain amount of ignoring and regrouping can be done by the

subject. The series is not taken exactly as given, but with selective

attention.

(7) In a series of different elements alternating, the most prominent

one is chosen for the major unit, and the others for alternates. This

prominence is more influenced by _size_ than any other factor, but may

be due to intrinsic interest of any kind.

(8) The major and minor elements must have a certain difference from

each other, both in _appearance_ and _interest_, and they must be

different enough for the difference to be easily perceived, but not

enough to be incongruous. They must differ in interest enough, so that

one is easily more prominent than the other, or may be made subservient

to the other, in the apperception.

(9) Variations are pleasant in the principal unit repeated, but not in

the alternating figure unless very slight indeed, or affecting only

secondary parts of the figure, not the main lines.

(10) Not the time actually spent on a unit makes it more or less

prominent, but the feeling of more or less "energy" expended on it.

_Ends:_ In an alternating repetition, must the series end on a light or

heavy beat? That is, must the major or minor unit be on the end?

To test this a series of strings was hung in which a group of three

alternated with a single string.

[Illustration: Fig. 23]

The subjects were asked to look at it with the three-groups on the

end, and with the single string. In every case the three-group ending

was emphatically declared the best. What reasons were given were much

the same, although most of them could give no explanation at all. S.

said the minor space on the end left him "hanging in mid-air, it needs

the heavy beat to land me again." Others said it was "ragged" unless

the three-group ended the series. R. said anything _interesting_ would

do on the end, as well as the larger-sized unit, it simply needed

something of sufficient interest to stop the rhythmic process and keep

one from going on.

It was impossible to describe the experience except in rhythmic terms,

and those in whom this sense was not strong could give no account

whatever for the difference in their feeling for _end_.

It will be remembered that some experiments were previously described

relating to the difference in apperception of a group of lines equally

distant from one another, and a group averaged at equal distances each

side of a middle point, but unequally from each, to emphasize the

bilateral symmetry. Two such series were now taken to find if there

were any difference necessary in appropriate endings. Since the two

types of groups differed so much in apperception, did that difference

so extend to the whole series that a different space was needed at the

end to finish them off?

The method of experiment was the following: Two series of repeated

groups were hung (100 mm. wide and 100 mm. between) with the design

of the groups varied as described. At the end of each a strip of

cardboard was hung, which the subject was asked to move so that it

bounded the amount of space at the end, necessary to finish the series

adequately.

[Illustration: Fig. 24 I]

[Illustration: Fig. 24 II]

Thus _b_ is the cardboard strip, and _a_ the space which was to be

varied according to his taste. The same experiment was tried with each

series, with the following results:

I II

U. _a_ = 96 mm. _a_ = 90

J. 33 50

S. 97 90

H. 109 104

R. 160 150

V. 170 135

T. 145 125

W. 80 68

In the case of every one but J. the subjects preferred a longer end

space with I than with II. J. was, however, of the extreme spatial type

who gave as his explanation that with II, when the central line was

prominent, the end (_a_) must equal just the distance to another middle

line, while with I it must harmonize with the shorter distances in the

group, but not exactly equal them, for that would make it too narrow.

It would mean, then, that the apperception of the repeated group in

I (if it accords with the subject's own introspection) consists in

repeated fluctuations of attention over the five strings, with no

repose on any one more than another. The movement is back and forth

from edge to edge, and hence needs more of an end to finish it than in

a series of symmetrical units where the movement is not back and forth,

but balanced and resting on the central point. In other words, in

Group I there is a rhythm of movement within the group itself, as well

as of the whole, while in II it is balanced and coördinated from the

centre of each group, out and back, so that a longer, or at least more

important end of some description is necessary to break the rhythm, and

stop the series in I than in II.

It is noticeable also that H. and S. thought in both cases they were

making the end spaces equal to the interspaces; but after Series I,

_a_ was made 102 and 109; and after Series II 95 and 104 respectively.

This naturally raised another question: Does a series of groups, with

repetitions within each, tend to make one overestimate distances

between or at the end, or at least does one overestimate these

distances in comparison with a series of symmetrical units?

The subjects were so unanimous in preferring a larger "embankment"

after Series I than II, that it was useless to test them further on

that point, and the experiment was changed to the other question

according to the suggestion above.

A series of eight cards was prepared (125 mm. wide) on four of which

five heavy black strips were drawn equally distant from each other, and

on the others a much wider strip in the centre with another on each

side near the edges. Of the two series just made, one was composed of

what we have called "rhythmic units" and the other of "symmetrical

units."

[Illustration: Fig. 25]

The subjects were asked to arrange the two separate series so that

the interspaces should be exactly equal to the units. It will be

observed that the rhythmic unit had a black strip on each edge, thereby

apparently decreasing its size, while the edge of the symmetrical unit

was white. In this respect the comparison was hardly fair, but the

result was the following. The figures represent an average of two

trials, and stand for the size estimate of the interspaces for each

subjects respectively, in the two series.

I II

J. 132.5 130

S. 125 122

U. 133 129

H. 128 124

R. 126 122

W. 136 133

V. 129 131

Average difference of estimate of both series = 2.64. Mean variation =

1.37.

It might be contended, however, that Series I is an example of optical

illusion, that the card was overestimated for that reason, and the

interspaces necessarily made wider. To avoid this difficulty another

series was made. Two sets of cards (125 mm. wide) were prepared; one

with five black strips at equal distances apart as before (excepting

that the strips were made heavier), the other with six strips. The card

with an odd number of strips had thereby a strip in the middle upon

which the attention could centre,--possessed a kind of balance. The

card with an even number of strips had, moreover, no such central line

but only a space, thus preventing repose of attention, and making the

unit more pronouncedly rhythmic. (It will be noticed in the foregoing

table that one subject, V, made narrower interspaces in I than in II.

He said he felt the units as centring around the group of three lines

in the centre, not as proceeding equally to the edge. The unit became

thus for him symmetrical instead of rhythmic, which could easily

account for the difference in estimation.)

The results in the present case are an average of three trials:

I, 5 strips II, 6 strips

J. 129 137

S. 125 129

U. 132 133

H. 125 131

R. 127 138

W. 126 133

V. 123 129

Average difference in estimate of both series = 6.1. Mean variation =

2.1.

Since both these figures represent an effect usually explained by

optical illusion, that factor may be counted out, and the difference

in the estimate be accounted for by the difference in the rhythm of

the units. The difference in estimation between the two rhythmic

units, differing only in odd and even number of strips, is greater

than between the rhythmic and more strictly symmetrical, and yet the

two were more comparable in construction. It would seem, then, that

the greater overestimation of II is due to the rhythmic movement which

is not limited or driven back to a central line as in I, but, by

continuing over the limits, produces a greater feeling of breadth.

The same question was experimented on in another way. Smaller strips

of cardboard all 50 mm. wide, but with different designs, were hung

behind the narrow window previously used. Four of each set were hung

at a time behind the window, and subjects arranged them so that the

interspaces appeared to equal the strips. These designs were to

illustrate different points in question. The difference in estimation

for an empty card, and a filled one; the difference according to the

strongly centred, or rhythmic, or slant lines of the filling. These

experiments were not so complete as the former ones, since the subjects

were scattered; hence they represent only one trial or an average of

two. But the results conform with what we have been led to expect.

[Illustration: Fig. 26]

I II III IV V

J. 49 57 52.5 52 53

S. 51 56 50 49 51

U. 53 54 49 50 48

H. 53 52 49 51

R. 52 52 51.5 48 51

W. 50 55 50 50 52

V. 51 53 49 48 51

Average = 51 54 50.6 49.4 51

Mean Variation = 1.5 1.4 1.2 1.06 .9

These results point to the fact that there is a tendency to

overestimate the strips unless there is a strong central accent, which

draws the attention back to the middle of the strip, in which case it

is slightly underestimated. This would seem to be contradicted in I,

where the centre is strongly marked by slant lines coming toward it.

But the subjects, instead of taking the lines as pointing _towards_

the centre, in almost every case felt them as leading _away_ from it,

and the oblique lines gave an appearance of greater breadth, which

result was carried out by the greater overestimation of II. In this

case, in addition to slant lines, there was no central accent, and the

overestimation was proportionately large. III and IV were intended

to illustrate the difference in estimate of rhythmic and symmetrical

units, but although a slight difference is apparent, the subjects did

not feel III as strongly rhythmic, because the black lines on the

ends of the strip were ignored against the black background, and only

the two central lines were taken. This made it more a balanced than a

rhythmic unit, so it is not a fair type of the point in question.

We may say, in conclusion, that oblique lines (which involve a more

complex muscular adjustment to perceive them) give an impression of

greater distance traversed, hence are overestimated; of two rhythmic

groups, the one containing an even number is more overestimated than

the odd, since the movement across is unchecked, and not balanced

around a central line; a series of strongly centred groups is more

correctly estimated as to its interspacing, and even slightly

underestimated, because of the check imposed by the centre of fixation

in each group. Although these results are very uniform, a more complete

series of experiments should be done on this subject, to make the

conclusions thoroughly valid.

[Illustration: Fig. 27]

Another question was suggested by these results: Is it more agreeable

to have a series of repeated space forms nearer or farther apart

when a design is within? Does the design, by drawing attention to

itself (especially if it be markedly central), make the objects

demand narrower or wider interspacing? To test this question, four

blank strips of cardboard were hung behind the narrow window, and the

subjects arranged them at the distance apart which suited them best.

Then two other sets of cards, of the same size, but of different

designs, were hung successively the same way, and these arranged also

at the most agreeable distances. One decorated card had a circle within

a rectangle, the other a triangle of gilt stars. The judgments were

made in pairs, _i. e._ the blank cards and the one with the circular

design were arranged twice in succession; then the blank cards and the

star design. This gives three judgments for the blank cards, two for

the circular, and one for the star design, and the judgments are given

in full, since an average would disguise the point in question.

I II III

J. 50 50

55 52

55 50

S. 35 70

45 20

55 35

H. 85 75

90 65

U. 50 45

50 48

57 50

R. 45 25

15 10

45 23

L. 90 35

65 65

W. 20 10

25 10

25 0

V. 45 60

30 35

30 25

Although the favorite arrangements varied somewhat on the different

days, the _filled_ cards were with only four exceptions preferred

nearer together than the _empty_ ones at any one trial, and two of

these put them equal. (The choice of V. was affected by the fact

that the circular designs produced such strong after-images that he

was obliged to put them farther apart, to avoid confusion with the

real design.) The reason suggested by the subjects for a narrower

interspacing with decorated cards was that, when they attended to the

design, they paid no attention to the actual edge of the card, but

the card ended so far as its interest was concerned with the design.

Therefore they had to be nearer together to bring the _designs_, not

the whole field of the cards, into a series. If, then, the design

extended over all the card, and its interest was no more in the centre

than the ends, would this difference in interspacing cease to be

demanded?

Another series of cards was hung with a design of oblique lines over

the whole field, and these arranged as the others were, at the most

agreeable distances.

I IV

J. 53 mm. J. 53 mm.

S. 45 S. 47

U. 52 U. 50

R. 35 R. 37

W. 23 W. 43

V. 35 V. 34

[Illustration: Fig. 28]

If, for the sake of comparison, the average be taken of the favorite

arrangements of the four blank cards, and they compared with the

interspacing of the oblique line design, it will be seen they approach

each other closely, except in the case of W.

These experiments would seem to show that an empty space, or one

completely covered with decoration, is taken in its entirety when

repeated in the series. But when decorated, especially toward the

centre, the _design_, instead of the whole including space, is taken

as the repeated unit, and for this reason the different units must

approach each other to make a satisfactory series.

To what extent does change in _level_ and _plane_ affect the units of

a series? To test this, a series of diamond shapes was hung on the

same level and at equal distances, and the subjects enjoyed them as a

repeated series.

[Illustration: Fig. 29]

Then another row was hung above them, and halfway between.

[Illustration: Fig. 30]

The subjects grouped them either in twos or threes, thus transforming

them into one series of similar group-units of triplets and pairs. They

were asked if they could take them up and down, one after the other

without grouping, as they would have done when on the same level. With

a little practice two of them succeeded, but they found the series

tiresome when taken in this way, and deprived of much of its pleasure.

The series was then changed by hanging a smaller diamond between the

others, at the same level.

[Illustration: Fig. 31 A]

[Illustration: Fig. 31 B]

This was enjoyed even more than the other, as an alternating series,

but when the smaller diamond was hung between but on a higher level

although it could still be included if _grouped_ in some way with one

or two of the larger diamonds, it baffled all attempts to include it as

an alternate minor unit in the other series. The two series separated,

and one ran along above the other, or else a definite grouping took

place, so that the large and small diamonds made one group-unit which

was repeated. But to combine two different elements as major and minor

units of one series, when the two were on different _levels_, was

generally declared impossible.

Provided units stay on the same level, however, a difference in _plane_

does not prevent their being in one series, provided the plane varies

regularly, and the variation is not too great. The variation in plane

of a few inches, used with these shapes, did not prevent their being

taken as one series, although it much facilitated their being taken as

two, if desired.

These experiments have all pointed to the fact that our pleasure

in repeated space forms is an immediate experience. We do not look

over the series and merely recognize that regular repetitions occur,

but there is an immediate _feeling_ of repetition, analogous to our

feeling of auditory rhythm. This feeling does not always accompany

a recognition that certain repetitions occur, but is a distinct

experience in itself dependent upon certain conditions in the series.

The series excites a certain response in the observer, which, if it

corresponds with his rhythmic organization, is pleasant, and if not, is

otherwise.

With a certain class of subjects this rhythmic response is very

noticeable, and they feel it as a conscious part of the experience.

With others, the symmetrical properties of the series are the more

prominent, and they detect no rhythmic response until the necessary

objective conditions for such a rhythm are violated. Then they feel it

as keenly as the other type.

In a series of units, there is a rhythmic discharge of energy on each,

the fixed temporal intervals being regulated by the alternating space.

When the units are too near together, or when the alternating spaces

vary irregularly in size, this rhythm is disturbed. If the alternating

spaces vary regularly in size, a richer rhythm is introduced, which

increases the pleasure up to a certain point when more variation makes

it too complicated, and confusion results. When one element alternates

with another, the one on which more energy is expended for any reason

becomes the principal unit. The other has less significance as to

its content than as to its size, for on this depends the regularity

of the rhythm. Variations in the content of alternating figures must

be cautious not to disturb, by the extra attention necessary to take

them in, the rhythm of the whole. Variation in the principal unit may

take place almost without limit, provided there is an equal amount

of interest in each, thus making a rhythm of equal discharges. There

must be an alternation of _two_, _i. e._ of discharge of attention and

rest. However rich the rhythm is made by greater and lesser accents

or groupings, the rhythm must fall eventually into a discharge of

attention, and a rest-period. In the temporal type of subject, to whom

the actual _motion_ across the series is a necessary factor of the

pleasure, this discharge and rest-period of _attention_ is exactly

inverse to the _motion_ across the alternate and rest upon the unit.

That is, on the principal unit is the discharge of the attention, but

the rest-period of the motion across; while the alternate unit supplies

the field which is travelled over, but requires but little attention.

The rhythm of the series may be not only of the units, but inside the

units as well, in groups of elements. The rhythm inside such a group

may be of two kinds: (1) a rhythm, which is at the same time restrained

and coördinated about a central point or line, and (2) a rhythm which

goes back and forth from edge to edge, and has a tendency to overstep

its limits, thereby carrying on the series with more activity. The

former is more connected with odd-number groups, and the latter with

even, although modifications in their arrangement may reverse the

effect. Since the eye moves more slowly and intricately over a curve

than over a straight line,[86] it may be that that is the reason why

an arched series is taken as the unit of a series, rather than the

vertical supports (as it invariably is in some unfinished experiments

not recorded here), whereas in a series of lintels the horizontal line

of the lintels requires less muscular adjustment to perceive it than

the vertical support, therefore the latter are taken as the units.

In any case, the unit of the series which attracts the most attention

and interest, for whatever reason, is taken as the principal unit, and

may vary in details, while the alternate must be invariable, except in

certain cases where it meets other demands. There may be rhythm in a

series, and at the same time symmetry with respect to a middle point.

In such a case a balance must be obtained between the two different

motor responses.

A series of analogies between the rhythm of sounds and of visual

objects, will illustrate more forcibly the similar demands of both.

(1) Auditory Rhythm: Periodicity is necessary. Accentuation may be

supplied by the subject, but there must be fixed temporal intervals,

and if the temporal conditions are not fulfilled, no impression of

rhythm is possible.[87]

Visual Repetition: Alternate spaces must be of invariable size, or

the series is broken up. Different degrees of interest may attach to

the principal unit, or the subject may group them in different ways,

but the alternate spaces must be uniform, or there is no feeling of

rhythmic repetition.

(2) Auditory Rhythm: Sounds must recur within a certain rate. When

succession falls below, or rises above a certain rate, no impression

of rhythm results.[88] A certain voluminousness is necessary for very

slow measures, to make the separate elements connect themselves in a

series.[89]

Visual Repetition: Objects must recur at certain proportionate

distances from each other, to connect themselves into a series. Larger

objects may be at a greater distance from each other than smaller ones,

and still form a series.

(3) Auditory Rhythm: "Perception of rhythm is an impression, an

immediate affection of consciousness, depending on a particular kind of

sensory experience. It is never a construction or reflective perception

that certain relations of intensity, duration, etc., do obtain."[90]

Visual Repetition: The feeling of rhythm in a visual series is

immediate, and wholly distinct from the knowledge that certain

objects do recur. This is especially illustrated in repetitions of

three distinct units, when subjects saw and understood the scheme of

repetition, but could not feel it.

(4) The number of units in an auditory group depends on the rate of

succession, but any higher number of elements in a group than _six_

or _eight_ falls back into smaller groups.[91] _Eight_ is about the

highest number that can be held in a rhythmic group.[92]

Visual Repetition: _Eight_ is the highest number that can be held in a

rhythmic group, and some subjects can only hold seven. Many more units

can be felt in a group, when the size of the including space is taken

as the measure and compared; but no more than eight can be felt and

recognized as the number of units it is. (There may be exceptions to

this rule in either auditory or visual rhythm, but this is the norm in

both cases.)

(5) Auditory Rhythm: In all long series, there is a subordination

of the higher rhythmic quantities, so that opposition of simple

alternate phases tends more and more to predominate over triplicated

structures.[93]

Visual Repetition: However complicated the repetition becomes, with

regular variations of the size of major or alternate units, the units

tend to re-group themselves, and so resolve ultimately into a simple

alternate repetition of two group-elements.

(6) Auditory Rhythm: "The introduction of variations in the figure of a

group does not in any way affect the sense of equivalence between the

unlike units."[94]

Visual Repetition: Changes in the content of the major unit do not

affect the repetition provided the alternate space remains invariable.

(7) "Feeling of rhythm is more definite as we proceed in a verse, or

in a series of simple sound sensations. At first the cycle is not

perfectly adjusted, and complete automatism established."[95]

Visual Repetition: Observers often had to look over a series several

times "to learn it" as they said, before the rhythm was felt.

To these may be added several other analogies, which, owing to the fact

that visually repeated objects remain in the field, while auditory

rhythm is purely successive, have other features which somewhat confuse

the resemblance. The principle, however, is the same in both.

(8) Auditory Rhythm: "At the close of a period, we have a pause, during

which the tension between the two opposing muscle-sets dies out, and we

have a feeling of finality."[96]

Visual Repetition: An alternating series must end on the heavy unit,

but since one does not look at series from left to right any more than

from right to left, a heavy unit must be at both ends, not on one

alone. In auditory rhythm, this final pause is not a function of any of

the intervals of the period, for it comes at the end, when the sounds

are no more present. But in visual repetition, after feeling the series

rhythmically, it is still in the field, either as an unending series,

or as a whole, in which each part is equally related to all the others.

The final pause of a series that ends must be at _each_ end, and the

series perfect from either point of view. It therefore fulfils the

demands of symmetry as well as rhythm, but since symmetry in its strict

sense has no meaning for sound-series, this double finality of visual

repetition cannot be analogued in auditory rhythm.

(9) I have found no recorded experiments of rhythms of sounds of

different timbre and pitch, _i. e._, a regular rhythm of a bell with a

violin, a piano with a whistle, etc. It would seem, however, that such

a succession would produce the same irritation as a visual repetition

of incongruous elements; as a circle introduced into the Greek fret,

or a series of Renaissance columns and Egyptian monoliths. In both

cases, the whole set of adjustments for each element would be thrown

into confusion by encountering the next one, which would require a

different attitude. Such a readjustment would be impossible in the

space necessary for the perception of any rhythm, hence there must be

congruity in elements, either auditory or visual, to be in a series at

all.

(10) Auditory Rhythm: "If every alternate element of a temporally

uniform sound-series receive increased stress, the interval which

succeeds the unaccented sound will appear of greater duration."[97]

Visual Repetition: The distance between unit groups with a strongly

accented centre appeared shorter than between rhythmic groups where the

movement was not restrained at the centre, but went from edge to edge.

The principles which explain these similarities are, however, different.

In the auditory rhythm, the stronger accented beat excites a greater

response than the unaccented. This lasts over longer in consciousness,

and for that reason the interval after the accent seems shorter.

In visual rhythm, however, the symmetrically rhythmic group drives

the attention in toward the centre, and whatever excursion it makes

to either side, it returns finally to the centre. In the even-number

rhythmic group, there is no such central line to restrain it, and

as one goes across it one has less check at the edge, the rhythm

does not wholly finish, and the space is thereby overestimated. The

_overestimation_ is due to the rhythmic activity in the group which

oversteps its limit.

The essentially rhythmic character of the experience is, however, the

same in both. The experience of visual repetition is only one-sided

when the symmetry or proportion of a finished series is regarded as the

explanation of its essential character, and when the temporal rhythmic

factor is neglected.

PART II

The purpose of the latter half of this discussion of repetition is to

consider a certain number of examples of its use in typical buildings

of all the European styles of architecture from Greece down, and to

show that the principles laid down in the earlier half have been

expressed almost without exception in those of recognized merit. In

other words it is to show that the laws of repetition, which have been

brought out in the experiments of the first part, and which would of

necessity be true if that explanation were correct, have indeed been

exemplified in types of architecture universally accepted as beautiful.

The illustrations have all been drawn from architecture beginning with

Greece, and not from the older Eastern styles. Egyptian architecture,

although it recognized the importance of repetition to some extent, in

its colonnades, avenues of sphinxes, and hieroglyphic decoration, never

reduced it to any principle, nor adhered to any one scheme throughout

a piece of work. Supports of the same kind and diameter have no fixed

relation to each other, they may be of the same or different lengths,

and may vary in diameter as well.[98] Spaces between columns of one

size and design may vary considerably, and the entablatures be of

different proportions. The art of Egypt was not rhythmic.

The architecture of Assyria and Chaldea had even less of repeated

forms in its style. They made but little use of columns or piers, and

had few arches.[99] The bare Assyrian edifice was like a great box,

perpendicular to its foundations, and the long walls pierced by hardly

an opening in the way of windows or doors.

Persian architecture was noted for extreme nicety of execution, but

a monotony in all its forms, and conventionality about its use of

the column, which makes it little more fruitful for our study of

repetition as an artistic value. In its decorations of bas-relief, the

pose and gesture of each figure is so exactly similar that they appear

almost machine-made.[100] When a little variety is introduced, it is

evidently done with misgivings, and shows none of the spontaneity or

first-hand pleasure in either repetition or variation which would make

it profitable for illustration.

Such a lack of feeling for repetition is, indeed, according to the

peculiar genius of these styles of architecture, what might have

been expected. The ruling idea, especially in Egyptian and Assyrian

architecture, was ponderous strength. Everything was built with the

idea of remaining immoveable through centuries to come. The enormous

temples and tombs, the long palaces with their heavy walls without an

opening to relieve them, the pyramids themselves like mountains of

rock--all these meant strength and immutability, to which the motion

and rhythm involved in repetition was totally foreign in spirit. In

Persia indeed (as well as India and China, which will not be considered

here) there was a change in tone. The column was used, not the massive

one of Egypt, but a lighter shaft, which showed a tendency toward

other effects than immensity and strength.

With this change of ideal, repetition in some kind of system made its

appearance, but its variations were tentative. It had not become used

to its new sense, and it was left for Greece to develop the rhythm and

movement of repetition, and to combine it with proportion and symmetry

into its perfection.

The method of analysis employed has been to go through a certain

number of architectural photographs, picking out all the examples of

repeated forms of any description, and classifying them according

to the principles which they exemplified or seemed to violate. For

this purpose a collection of about five thousand photographs from

the library of Robinson Hall, Harvard University, was analyzed. The

photographs were taken in order of styles: Greek, Roman, Romanesque,

Gothic, Italian and French Renaissance, and modern. The examples of the

different points in question were taken as they came in the cataloguing

of the library stacks, without respect to whether they appeared to bear

out the previous conclusions or not.

VARIATION OF ALTERNATING UNITS

The first principle which we shall consider is the variation allowable

in the units of an alternating series. It will be remembered that

the principle was as follows: (1) In any series of two alternating

units, the one on which the most energy is expended is regarded as the

principal unit, the less important one as an alternate. Variation of

the principal unit is allowable, often desirable and even necessary;

variation of the alternate never allowable, unless other circumstances

change the situation. If the minor unit is changed, so that in interest

it equals the major unit, the rest-phase of the rhythm is destroyed,

the effect is of two rival repetitions going along together, and

fatigue results. If variation in the alternates exceeded that of the

principal units, the balance of the rhythm would change, the alternate

become the major unit, and a new series begin.

From the very nature of the case, then, it will be impossible to look

for variations in alternates, which make it exceed the principal units

in interest. We must investigate alternating series, in order to see if

_one of the elements remains the same_, while the other may or may not

vary. If this were true, a rest-phase for the rhythm would be assured

in the series, while the principal unit might vary, provided the same

amount of attention were required in each case. (2) It will also be

remembered that _size_ and _limiting shape_ were the factors that could

not vary without doing violence to the rhythm, while content might vary

almost without restriction. (3) The position of alternating units as

regards each other cannot vary; the two units are so dependent on each

other that the position of one must remain halfway between two of the

opposite kind. In other words, if the two series of units run between

each other, they form _one_ series or rhythm. Two rhythms cannot be

kept up alongside; so if one unit, however regularly placed with

regard to another of its own kind, recurs at unequal distances from

the _other_ units, the feeling of the repetition is lost, the rhythm

broken, unless the two units can be grouped into one, and so make a

single rhythm again.

We shall, then, look for alternating series, of which the two units are

at _equal_ and _invariable_ distances from each other; the variations

of content (if such there are) occur only in the major unit; and are of

the filling, not of the including shape or size.

It may be readily seen that there are difficulties in finding

alternating series which exactly illustrate this particular point, or

in reducing them to any system. It was necessary to look through many

photographs to find one that presented the required conditions (_i.

e._, two repeated series of units, alternating with each other), and

when found, they were of so many different varieties, from windows in

an apse to reliefs on a fountain, that each has had to be described

by itself, and any rigid classification was impossible. Moreover, it

was difficult to find a scale of judgment by which to decide whether

a series was really alternating or plain repetition. From one point

of view, _every_ repetition is alternating, that is, the repeated

unit always alternates with an empty space. Although such repetitions

bear out the theory still further, and emphasize yet more strongly

the invariability of alternates, and the possibility of variations in

the principal units, I have used the term in a stricter sense, and

only given illustrations of repeated objects, when one unit actually

alternated with another definite unit.

Had the other sense of the term been used, examples might have

been multiplied without limit, of slightly varying repeated units,

and unvarying alternate blank spaces. But it was felt that such

accumulation of illustration was unnecessary, and that what was true in

a stricter sense of the term would be recognized as true for the larger

number of cases that might be cited with a wider meaning. If the minor

units had a definite enclosing outline, they were counted even though

they were blank within, but without an enclosing outline, that is, if

they were mere spaces, they were not considered, although the fact that

there is such universal use of this type of decoration shows only more

conclusively how the necessity of the invariability of alternates is

taken for granted as an axiom of design.

Another type of alternate repetition was not included in the

illustrations, _i. e._, when two sets of units alternated, _without

variation in either one_. To this class belong all the conventionalized

designs used so much in all kinds of decoration, and of which a very

full account is given in Owen Jones's Grammar of Ornament.

These, to be sure, illustrate the negative points, viz., that size and

shape are unalterable for rhythmic repetition; that distances must

be equal and invariable; and that alternate units must not vary. But

since the principal units do not vary either, it seemed needless to

give them as examples of the point in question. A mention of this class

of alternating repetitions, of which there is such a great number, is

enough to show that they fall within the theory. But one example is as

good as a thousand, and their inclusion among the illustrations for

rhythmic alternates will be taken for granted without further mention.