firmest. In any process the beginning is important as the start, the
plan, the preparation; the middle as the climax and turning point; the
end as the consummation. Of course by the middle is not meant a
mathematical point of division into equal parts, but a psychological
point, which is usually nearer the end, because the impetus of action
and purpose carry forward and beyond. Thus in a plot the beginning
stands out as setting the problem and introducing the characters and
situation; then the movement of the action, gathering force increasingly
as it proceeds, breaks at some point well beyond the middle; in the last
part the problem is solved and the consequences of the action are
revealed. Large size is another quality which distinguishes and tends to
make dominant, as in the tower and the mountain. In one of Memling's
paintings, "St. Ursula and the Maidens," which, when I saw it, was in
Bruges, the lady is represented twice as tall as the full grown girls
whom she envelops in her protecting cloak; yet, despite the
unnaturalness, we do not experience any incongruity; for it is rational
to our feeling. Intensity of any sort is another property which creates
dominance--loudness of sound in music; concentration of light in
painting, as in Rembrandt; stress in rhythm; depth and scope of purpose
and feeling, as in the great characters of fiction. The effectiveness of
intensity may be greatly increased through contrast--the pianissimo
after the fortissimo; the pathos of the fifth act of _Hamlet_ set off by
the comedy of the first scene. Sometimes all the natural qualifications
of eminence are united in a single work: in old paintings, for example,
the Christ Child, spiritually the most significant element of the whole,
will be of supernatural size, will occupy the center of the picture,
will have the light concentrated upon him, and will be dressed in
brightly gleaming garments.

As I have already indicated, there may be more than one dominant