are not strongly of the motor type, people in whose mental make-up
movement plays a minor part in comparison with vision and other
sensations, they play a secondary role, or even hardly any role at
all. Most spectators, indeed, instead of actually making slight
movements imitative of the movements seen or represented, and
experiencing the corresponding sensations, make no movements at all
and simply experience movement images; this substitution of image for
movement probably occurs in the minds of all except the most imitative.
Most people, even of the motor type, do not smile when they see the
"Laughing Cavalier" or start to run when they see the statue of the
runner; careful observation of themselves would disclose only faint
movement images which seem to play about their lips or limbs--mere
images of movement have supplanted movements. And many visualists would
not find any images at all. However, although the mistake has been
committed by some investigators of supposing that everybody experiences
movement because they themselves, being of the motor type, do, it
cannot be denied, I think, that such people attain to a vividness of
aesthetic living not reached by others. They appreciate beauty with
their bodies as well as with their souls. And in their case too, as
has been shown, aesthetic appreciation is more strongly histrionic--they
not only put themselves into the work of art, but the idea of themselves
as well.

Following the German school of einfuehlung, I have insisted throughout
this discussion on the importance of feeling in the aesthetic
experience; yet I do not think the voice of those people can be
neglected who claim that their experience with works of art is of
slight or no emotional intensity. There are people who would report
that they feel no jollity when they see the "Laughing Cavalier," or
anguish when they read the Ugolino Canto in the Inferno; yet such