A few words should be said about those to whom action is the chief aspect of mental experience—the "motaires." I have not succeeded in devising a satisfactory test for the importance of this avenue of knowledge in our mental fabric, for the obvious reason that it operates so generally under the guidance of the eye or (in speaking) of the ear. (It would be easier to devise tests applicable to the congenitally blind.) Even when we write or draw with closed eyes, we imagine and interpret what we do by how it will look. A few hints as to the strength of this faculty can be gathered from some of the above and similar experiments. In the last test, for example, he who would be decidedly aided by writing what he read would be somewhat strongly motor-minded; while this trait would be weak in one not much aided by writing what he reads. Again, one might find the limit of memory for words, sentences, etc., written from a copy and again written from dictation, and observe which the motor feelings aided more and how much altogether; one can also have the hand moved by another, drawing a more or less complicated figure, and compare the attempt to repeat the drawing with a similar repetition of a drawing momentarily seen. These tests—for which the average of a large number of trials is necessary as a standard—would be certain to bring out decided "motaires," but they must be perfected before they are as available and conclusive as those for ear-and eye-mindedness.
It goes without saying that every one will probably have a hint (though often only a slight one) as to the sensory bent of his apperceptive processes, especially any one engaged in mental labor. If he is a "visionaire" he will have noted how much better he remembers what he reads than what he hears; that he often remembers the position of a word on a page; will, perhaps, have a good memory for forms and faces; will find that he can easily read while talking is going on; that he readily gets absorbed when his eye is occupied; and so on in a hundred ways. The "auditaire" will note that a lecture impresses him more deeply than a review article; that he imagines the sounds of the words as he reads or writes (and is usually thus a slow reader); that he repeats aloud what he has written to judge of its effect—he wants to know how "it sounds" even when it is only to be read; he observes harsh sound-combinations in style (the "visionaire" observes misprints); talking easily disturbs him when reading or writing, his attention being involuntarily drawn to the conversation; he may have a good memory for tunes, and so on. Those who approach the motor or the indifferent type will have greater difficulty in discerning this by hap-hazard observation. The above are, of course, only general descriptions; they will be variously modified in individual cases, but will retain a typical ap-
