brevity I chiefly confine my remarks to visual representations, they are intended to apply equally to all the senses.
A generic image appears to be nothing more than a generic portrait stamped on the brain by the successive impressions made by its component images. Professor Huxley, from whom I have borrowed the apt phrase, has expressed himself to a similar effect in his recent "Life of Hume," page 95. I am rejoiced to find that from a strictly physiological side this explanation is considered to be the true one, by so high an authority, and that he has, quite independently of myself, adopted a view which I also entertained, and had hinted at in my first description of composite portraiture, though there was not occasion at that time to write more explicitly about it.
When I am adjusting portraits to make a composite, and at the moment when the adjustment is being effected, I always experience a quick sense of satisfaction curiously analogous to that which is felt on the first recognition of a doubtful likeness of any kind. I have the same disagreeable feeling of the existence of a puzzle which I can not make out, accompanied by the conviction that the puzzle is on the point of being solved. In the next instant coalescence takes place between what is seen and what was recollected. I am as sure as it is possible to be on such grounds as these, that the analogy between catching the coincidence of two similar portraits when optically superposed and that of the coincidence of a visible object with a past impression or with a preëxistent general idea is true and not metaphorical only.
It is very instructive to note the first appearance of a generic image, and to watch the way in which the mind carves images out of the medley of its available material. It can not grasp an image of any complexity unless the elements of which it consists form a congruous composition, that is to say, one whose parts are connected by such easy lines of association that the mind runs rapidly over the whole of it, and takes it all in by what seems to be a single glance. Generic images begin, at least according to my own experience, by being exceedingly imperfect and vague because they are very comprehensive. Then limitations commence, each of which is the cause of a more distinct picture being formed, and so the mind runs first through genera, then through species, continually seeking more congruity and clearer definition, but at each step with a loss of comprehensiveness. If allowed to do so, it descends to individuals. Let us, as an example, call up a generic image of a clergyman preaching. I first see a pulpit of somewhat undefined height? with a vague figure in it. This figure becomes white, in a surplice; a competing figure in a black ground temporarily yielding place. Then I see various accessories suitable to the surplice, such as Gothic architecture, ritualistic decorations, and the like. After this the interiors of particular churches begin to present themselves, but, as I wish to confine my