strikes its head against the pillow, it learns the nature of softness,
and associating this sensation with the appearance of the pillow, knows
in future that when softness is observed it need not be avoided as
hardness must be.

Sight is therefore not a matter of the eye alone. A whole train of
associations connected with the objective world is set going in the mind
when rays of light strike the retina refracted from objects. And these
associations vary enormously in quantity and value with different
individuals; but the one we are here chiefly concerned with is this
universal one of touch. Everybody "sees" the shape of an object, and
"sees" whether it "looks" hard or soft, &c. Sees, in other words, the
"feel" of it.

If you are asked to think of an object, say a cone, it will not, I
think, be the visual aspect that will occur to most people. They will
think of a circular base from which a continuous side slopes up to a
point situated above its centre, as one would feel it. The fact that in
almost every visual aspect the base line is that of an ellipse, not a
circle, comes as a surprise to people unaccustomed to drawing.

But above these cruder instances, what a wealth of associations crowd in
upon the mind, when a sight that moves one is observed. Put two men
before a scene, one an ordinary person and the other a great poet, and
ask them to describe what they see. Assuming them both to be possessed
of a reasonable power honestly to express themselves, what a difference
would there be in the value of their descriptions. Or take two painters
both equally gifted in the power of expressing their visual perceptions,
and put them before the scene to paint it. And assuming one to be a
commonplace man and the other a great artist, what a difference will