t to return to it. I call it _effort_; you may, if you prefer, call it
will; at all events the man was aware of himself as nominative of a
verb to _cling to,_ (in the future tense) _return to,_ to _choose as
against some other alternative_; as nominative of a verb briefly, _to
like_ or _love._ And the accusative of these verbs would be the
landscape. But unless the man's contemplation was thus shot with
similar ideas of some action or choice of his own, he would express
the situation by saying "this landscape _is_ awfully beautiful."

This IS. I want you to notice the formula, by which the landscape,
ceasing to be the accusative of the man's looking and thinking,
becomes the nominative of a verb _to be so-and-so._ That
grammatical transformation is the sign of what I have designated, in
philosophical language, _as the merging of the activities of the
subject in the object._ It takes place already in the domain of simple
sensation whenever, instead of saying "_I_ taste or _I_ smell
something nice or nasty" we say--"_this thing_ tastes or smells nice
or nasty." And I have now shown you how this tendency to put the
cart before the horse increases when we pass to the more complex
and active processes called perception; turning "I measure this
line"--"I compare these two angles" into "this line _extends_ from A to
B"--"these two angles _are equal_ to two right angles."

But before getting to the final inversion--"this landscape _is_
beautiful" instead of "_I_ like this landscape"--there is yet another,
and far more curious merging of the subject's activities in the
qualities of the object. This further putting of the cart before the
horse (and, you will see, attributing to the cart what only the horse
can be doing!) falls under the head of what German psychologists
call _Einfuehlung,_ or "Infeeling"--which Prof. Titchener has
translated _Empathy._ Now this new, and comparatively newly
discovered element in our perception of shape is the one to which,
leaving out of account the pleasantness of mere colour and sound
sensations as such, we probably owe the bulk of whatever
satisfaction we connect with the word Beautiful. And I have already
given the Reader an example of such Empathy when I described the
landscape seen by the man on the hill as consisting of a skyline
"_dropping down merely to rush up again in rapid concave curves_";
to which I might have added that there was also a plain which
_extended,_ a valley which _woun