t to paint his mistress, especially
stipulating that she should be depicted in a swing. The same
motive was common among the leading artists of that time. It may
be said that this attitude was merely a pretext to secure a
vision of ankles, but that result could easily have been attained
without the aid of the swing.

I may here quote, as bearing on this and allied questions, a
somewhat lengthy communication from a lady to whom I am indebted
for many subtle and suggestive remarks on the whole of this group
of manifestations:--

"With regard to the connection between swinging and suspension,
perhaps the physical basis of it is the loss of breath. Temporary
loss of breath with me produces excitement. Swinging at a height
or a fall from a height would cause loss of breath; in a state of
suspension the imagination would suggest the idea of falling and
the attendant loss of breath. People suffering from lung disease
are often erotically inclined, and anesthetics affect the
breathing. Men also seem to like the idea of suspension, but from
the active side. One man used to put his wife on a high swinging
shelf when she displeased him, and my husband told me once he
would like to suspend me to a crane we were watching at work,
though I have never mentioned my own feeling on this point to
him. Suspension is often mentioned in descriptions of torture.
Beatrice Cenci was hung up by her hair and the recently murdered
Queen of Korea was similarly treated. In Tolstoi's _My Husband
and I_ the girl says she would like her husband to hold her over
a precipice. That passage gave me great pleasure.[127]

"The idea of slipping off an inclined plane gives me the same
sensation. I always feel it on seeing Michael Angelo's 'Night,'
though the slipping look displeases me artistically. I remember
that when I saw the 'Night' first I did feel excited and was
annoyed, and it seemed to me it was the slipping-off look that
gave it; but I think I am now less affected by that idea. Certain
general ideas seem to excite one, but the particular forms under
which they are presented lose their effect and have to be varied.
The sentence mentioned in Tolstoi leaves me now quite cold, but
if I came across the same idea elsewhere, expressed differently,
then it would excite me. I am very capricious in the small