In the sense of Avenarius, then, elements are such ideas as “green,” “blue,” “cold,” “warm,” “soft,” “hard,” “sweet,” “bitter,” and their “character” is the particular kind of quality with which they appear, not merely their pleasantness or unpleasantness, but also such modes of presentation as “surprising,” “expected,” “novel,” “indifferent,” “recognised,” “known,” “actual,” “doubtful,” categories which Avenarius first recognised as being psychological. For instance, what I guess, believe, or know is an “element”; the fact that I guess it, not believe it or know it, is the “character” in which it presents itself psychologically (not logically).
Now there is a stage in mental activity in which this sub-division of psychical phenomena cannot be made, which is too early for it. All “elements” at their first appearance are merged with the floating background, the whole being vaguely tinged by “character.” To follow my meaning, think of what takes place, when for the first time at a distance one sees something in the landscape, such as a shrub or a heap of wood, at the moment when one does not yet know what “it” is.
At this moment “element” and “character” are absolutely indistinguishable (they are always inseparable as Petzoldt ingeniously pointed out), so improving the original statement of Avenarius.
In a dense crowd I perceive, for instance, a face which attracts me across the swaying mass by its expression. I have no idea what the face is like, and should be quite unable to describe it or give an idea of it; but it has appealed to me in the most disturbing manner, and I find myself asking with keen curiosity, “Where have I seen that face before?”
A man may see the head of a woman for a moment, and this may make a very strong impression on him, and yet he may be unable to say exactly what he has seen, or, for instance, be able to remember the colour of her hair. The retina must be exposed to the object sufficiently long, if only a fraction of a second, for a photographic impression to be made.
If one looks at any object from a considerable distance one has at first only the vaguest impression of its outlines; and as one comes nearer and sees the details more clearly, lively sensations, at first lost in the general mass, are received. Think, for instance, of the first general impression of, say, the sphenoid bone disarticulated from a skull, or of many pictures seen a little too closely or a little too far away. I myself have a remembrance of having had strong impressions from sonatas of Beethoven before I knew anything of the musical notes. Avenarius and Petzoldt have overlooked the fact that the coming into consciousness of the elements is accompanied by a kind of secretion of characterisation.