Special references are: G. Berkeley, A Treatise concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge, 1710, Introd. (A. C. Fraser, Selections from Berkeley, 1884, 16, 18, 22); T. H. Huxley, Hume, 1881, 96 f.; E. B. Tylor, Anthropology, 1881, chs. iv., v. CHAPTER XI SENTIMENT Assis sur un banc de Mail, M. l’abbé Lantaigne, supérieur du grand séminaire, et M. Bergeret, maître de conférences à la Faculté des lettres, conversaient, selon leur coutume d’été. Ils étaient sur toutes choses d’un sentiment contraire; jamais deux hommes ne furent plus différents d’esprit et de caractère. Mais seuls dans la ville ils s’intéressaient aux idées générales. Cette sympathie les réunissait.—ANATOLE FRANCE § 68. =The Nature of Sentiment.=—In ordinary speech, the word ‘sentiment,’ like the word ‘feeling,’ is used in many different senses; and, unlike ‘feeling,’ it has not settled down to a single meaning within psychology. We must therefore define it arbitrarily; and we shall reserve it, in this book, to denote _the feeling-complex which gathers about a judgement or an imaginative construction_. In emotion, we are brought face to face with an incident or situation which overwhelms us, takes possession of us; the emotion arises in the state of primary attention. A very strong and complex feeling is formed, and is rendered still stronger and still more complex by the organic sensations that come with our bodily attitude towards the situation (p. 216). In =sentiment=, we are also brought face to face with an incident or situation; but this is of a kind that demands secondary attention, effortful and divisive attention, now to one phase or feature and now to another. We take possession of it, so to speak, in place of its taking possession of us. Otherwise, the sentiment resembles the emotion; a complex feeling is formed, and is reinforced by organic sensations; the bodily expression of sentiment is of the same kind as that of emotion. Suppose, for instance, that we sit down to a book by a new author. If we are actively and not passively interested; if we read critically, in the light of previous study and present knowledge; if we judge as we read; then our _felt realisation_ of the aptness, fitness, rightness of the author’s style is a sentiment. Or suppose that we are looking at a painting by a great master. If we can see how form and colour flowed straight out of the brush; if we can appreciate this fluency as the reward of toil upon toil, essay after essay; if our own critical vision can seize the painter’s idea, and note the individuality with which that idea was conceived and is now expressed; then our _felt realisation_ of the beauty of the painting is, again, a sentiment. These are examples offered from the standpoint of the critic; and such examples come naturally to mind, since criticism is both commoner and more articulate than creative art; but it need hardly be said that the artist too, as his construction proceeds, will have