I still however felt scruples in the matter. Was not the investigation as conducted on these lines a little artificial? In point of fact, general terms most frequently occur as members of a phrase, co-operating with others, and connected with them by certain relations. I therefore recommenced my inquiry, using the same method, but replacing words by phrases. The general propositions employed are purposely trite, to avoid contradiction, and to ascertain the immediate mental state. They were as follows: Cause invariably precedes effect.—Infinity has several meanings.—Is Space infinite?—Has Time any limits?—Law is a necessary relation.—I need not enlarge upon the results: they are _precisely the same_ as for words. In every case, and for each person, there is one predominating word which absorbs all the content of the phrase, and is a substitute for it. On this the instantaneous mental operation is concentrated. If of the concrete type, the subject sees images. In the second phrase, e. g., everything converges on the word _infinity_. Replies: Sensation of obscurity and depth, vague luminous circles, a sort of cupola, a never-receding horizon, etc. If a typographic visualist, the printed sentence is seen less clearly than the simple words: “in minute characters; no capitals”; some persons glimpse it rapidly: others see only “the principal word printed.” For the pure auditory type, the answer is always very simple. “I hear the sentence, I see absolutely nothing.” The new method therefore simply confirms the previous observations, with no variations. This identity of result seems to me to militate against a distinction admitted by many authors. In the classical treatises a distinction is made between “necessary ideas” and “necessary truths” (I use their terms uncritically), i. e., general concepts and general propositions. Example: cause, principle of causality. In my opinion there is merely a difference of form between the two positions, the one psychological, the other logical. A concept is a judgment in a state of envelopment, or of result. The proposition is a word in the state of development. The difference is not material, but formal; it is the passage from synthesis to analysis. I thought that after an interval of two years it might be interesting to repeat the same inquiry on the same people; but the results were not encouraging in this direction. Some, remembering the previous investigation, declared that “they felt themselves influenced beforehand.” Others, who had a more vague recollection (perhaps because they did not understand the object of the inquiry) gave answers analogous to their former replies. In short, notwithstanding the lapse of time, and change of circumstances, each seemed to be consistent with his former self.