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<p class="cen biggest">MEMORY</p>
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<p class="ind"><b>YOUR MIND AND HOW TO USE IT.</b></p>
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<p class="ind"><b>MEMORY: HOW TO DEVELOP, TRAIN AND USE IT.</b></p>
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<h1> <big>M E M O R Y</big><br/> <br/> HOW TO DEVELOP,<br/> TRAIN AND USE IT<br/> </h1>
<p class="cen space-above">By WILLIAM WALKER ATKINSON</p>
<p class="cen small space-above">
L. N. FOWLER & COMPANY<br/>
<span class="smaller">7, Imperial Arcade, Ludgate Circus<br/>
London, E.C., England</span></p>
<p class="cen space-above"><span class="small">1919</span><br/>
<span class="big">THE ELIZABETH TOWNE CO.<br/>
HOLYOKE, MASS.</span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<p class="cen smaller">
Copyright 1912<br/>
By<br/>
ELIZABETH TOWNE</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
<table class="small" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="contents">
<tr>
<td class="tdr">I.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_I">Memory: Its Importance</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">7</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">II.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_II">Cultivation of the Memory</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">17</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">III.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_III">Celebrated Cases of Memory</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">27</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IV.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_IV">Memory Systems</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">37</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">V.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_V">The Subconscious Record-File</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">48</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VI.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_VI">Attention</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">58</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VII.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_VII">Association</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">70</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VIII.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Phases of Memory</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">81</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IX.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_IX">Training the Eye</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">90</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">X.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_X">Training the Ear</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">101</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XI.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XI">How to Remember Names</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">111</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XII.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XII">How to Remember Faces</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">121</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIII.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XIII">How to Remember Places</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">130</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIV.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XIV">How to Remember Numbers</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">140</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XV.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XV">How to Remember Music</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">152</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XVI.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XVI">How to Remember Occurrences</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">160</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XVII.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XVII">How to Remember Facts</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">168</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XVIII.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">How to Remember Words, etc.</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">178</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIX.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XIX">How to Remember Books, Plays,
Tales, etc.</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">186</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XX.</td>
<td><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_XX">General Instructions</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">197</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></SPAN>CHAPTER I.</h2>
<p class="chap">MEMORY: ITS IMPORTANCE.</p>
<p>It needs very little argument to convince the
average thinking person of the great importance
of memory, although even then very few
begin to realize just how important is the
function of the mind that has to do with the
retention of mental impressions. The first
thought of the average person when he is
asked to consider the importance of memory,
is its use in the affairs of every-day life, along
developed and cultivated lines, as contrasted
with the lesser degrees of its development. In
short, one generally thinks of memory in its
phase of "a good memory" as contrasted with
the opposite phase of "a poor memory." But
there is a much broader and fuller meaning
of the term than that of even this important
phase.</p>
<p>It is true that the success of the individual
in his every-day business, profession, trade
or other occupation depends very materially<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</SPAN></span>
upon the possession of a good memory. His
value in any walk in life depends to a great
extent upon the degree of memory he may
have developed. His memory of faces, names,
facts, events, circumstances and other things
concerning his every-day work is the measure
of his ability to accomplish his task. And in
the social intercourse of men and women, the
possession of a retentive memory, well
stocked with available facts, renders its possessor
a desirable member of society. And in
the higher activities of thought, the memory
comes as an invaluable aid to the individual
in marshalling the bits and sections of knowledge
he may have acquired, and passing
them in review before his cognitive faculties—thus
does the soul review its mental possessions.
As Alexander Smith has said: "A
man's real possession is his memory; in nothing
else is he rich; in nothing else is he poor."
Richter has said: "Memory is the only paradise
from which we cannot be driven away.
Grant but memory to us, and we can lose
nothing by death." Lactantius says: "Memory
tempers prosperity, mitigates adversity,
controls youth, and delights old age."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>But even the above phases of memory represent
but a small segment of its complete
circle. Memory is more than "a good memory"—it
is the means whereby we perform
the largest share of our mental work. As
Bacon has said: "All knowledge is but remembrance."
And Emerson: "Memory is a
primary and fundamental faculty, without
which none other can work: the cement, the
bitumen, the matrix in which the other faculties
are embedded. Without it all life and
thought were an unrelated succession." And
Burke: "There is no faculty of the mind
which can bring its energy into effect unless
the memory be stored with ideas for it to
look upon." And Basile: "Memory is the
cabinet of imagination, the treasury of reason,
the registry of conscience, and the council
chamber of thought." Kant pronounced
memory to be "the most wonderful of the faculties."
Kay, one of the best authorities on
the subject has said, regarding it: "Unless
the mind possessed the power of treasuring
up and recalling its past experiences, no
knowledge of any kind could be acquired. If
every sensation, thought, or emotion passed<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</SPAN></span>
entirely from the mind the moment it ceased
to be present, then it would be as if it had
not been; and it could not be recognized or
named should it happen to return. Such an
one would not only be without knowledge,—without
experience gathered from the past,—but
without purpose, aim, or plan regarding
the future, for these imply knowledge and
require memory. Even voluntary motion,
or motion for a purpose, could have no existence
without memory, for memory is involved
in every purpose. Not only the learning
of the scholar, but the inspiration of the
poet, the genius of the painter, the heroism
of the warrior, all depend upon memory. Nay,
even consciousness itself could have no existence
without memory for every act of consciousness
involves a change from a past
state to a present, and did the past state
vanish the moment it was past, there could be
no consciousness of change. Memory, therefore,
may be said to be involved in all conscious
existence—a property of every conscious
being!"</p>
<p>In the building of character and individuality,
the memory plays an important part, for<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</SPAN></span>
upon the strength of the impressions received,
and the firmness with which they are retained,
depends the fibre of character and
individuality. Our experiences are indeed
the stepping stones to greater attainments,
and at the same time our guides and protectors
from danger. If the memory serves us
well in this respect we are saved the pain of
repeating the mistakes of the past, and may
also profit by remembering and thus avoiding
the mistakes of others. As Beattie says:
"When memory is preternaturally defective,
experience and knowledge will be deficient in
proportion, and imprudent conduct and absurd
opinion are the necessary consequence."
Bain says: "A character retaining
a feeble hold of bitter experience, or
genuine delight, and unable to revive afterwards
the impression of the time is in reality
the victim of an intellectual weakness under
the guise of a moral weakness. To have
constantly before us an estimate of the
things that affect us, true to the reality, is
one precious condition for having our will
always stimulated with an accurate reference
to our happiness. The thoroughly edu<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</SPAN></span>cated
man, in this respect, is he that can carry
with him at all times the exact estimate of
what he has enjoyed or suffered from every
object that has ever affected him, and in
case of encounter can present to the enemy as
strong a front as if he were under the genuine
impression. A full and accurate memory,
for pleasure or for pain, is the intellectual
basis both of prudence as regards self, and
sympathy as regards others."</p>
<p>So, we see that the cultivation of the memory
is far more than the cultivation and development
of a single mental faculty—it is
the cultivation and development of our entire
mental being—the development of our
<i>selves</i>.</p>
<p>To many persons the words memory, recollection,
and remembrance, have the same
meaning, but there is a great difference in
the exact shade of meaning of each term.
The student of this book should make the
distinction between the terms, for by so doing
he will be better able to grasp the various
points of advice and instruction herein
given. Let us examine these terms.</p>
<p>Locke in his celebrated work, the "Essay<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</SPAN></span>
Concerning Human Understanding" has
clearly stated the difference between the
meaning of these several terms. He says:
"Memory is the power to revive again in our
minds those ideas which after imprinting,
have disappeared, or have been laid aside out
of sight—when an idea again recurs without
the operation of the like object on the external
sensory, it is <i>remembrance</i>; if it be
sought after by the mind, and with pain and
endeavor found, and brought again into
view, it is <i>recollection</i>." Fuller says, commenting
on this: "Memory is the power of reproducing
in the mind former impressions,
or percepts. Remembrance and Recollection
are the exercise of that power, the former being
involuntary or spontaneous, the latter volitional.
We remember because we cannot help
it but we recollect only through positive effort.
The act of remembering, taken by itself,
is involuntary. In other words, when
the mind remembers without having tried to
remember, it acts spontaneously. Thus it
may be said, in the narrow, contrasted senses
of the two terms, that we remember by chance,
but recollect by intention, and if the endeavor<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</SPAN></span>
be successful that which is reproduced becomes,
by the very effort to bring it forth,
more firmly intrenched in the mind than
ever."</p>
<p>But the New Psychology makes a little different
distinction from that of Locke, as given
above. It uses the word memory not only
in his sense of "The power to revive, etc.,"
but also in the sense of the activities of the
mind which tend to receive and store away
the various impressions of the senses, and the
ideas conceived by the mind, to the end that
they may be reproduced voluntarily, or involuntarily,
thereafter. The distinction between
remembrance and recollection, as made
by Locke, is adopted as correct by The New
Psychology.</p>
<p>It has long been recognized that the memory,
in all of its phases, is capable of development,
culture, training and guidance
through intelligent exercise. Like any other
faculty of mind, or physical part, muscle or
limb, it may be improved and strengthened.
But until recent years, the entire efforts of
these memory-developers were directed to
the strengthening of that phase of the memory<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</SPAN></span>
known as "recollection," which, you will remember,
Locke defined as an idea or impression
"sought after by the mind, and with
pain and endeavor found, and brought again
into view." The New Psychology goes much
further than this. While pointing out the
most improved and scientific methods for "re-collecting"
the impressions and ideas of the
memory, it also instructs the student in the
use of the proper methods whereby the memory
may be stored with clear and distinct impressions
which will, thereafter, flow naturally
and involuntarily into the field of consciousness
when the mind is thinking upon
the associated subject or line of thought; and
which may also be "re-collected" by a voluntary
effort with far less expenditure of
energy than under the old methods and
systems.</p>
<p>You will see this idea carried out in detail,
as we progress with the various stages
of the subject, in this work. You will see
that the first thing to do is <i>to find something
to remember</i>; then to impress that thing
clearly and distinctly upon the receptive tablets
of the memory; then to exercise the re<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</SPAN></span>membrance
in the direction of bringing out
the stored-away facts of the memory; then to
acquire the scientific methods of recollecting
special items of memory that may be necessary
at some special time. This is the natural
method in memory cultivation, as opposed to
the artificial systems that you will find mentioned
in another chapter. It is not only development
of the memory, but also development
of the mind itself in several of its regions
and phases of activity. It is not merely
a method of recollecting, but also a method
of correct seeing, thinking and remembering.
This method recognizes the truth of the verse
of the poet, Pope, who said: "Remembrance
and reflection how allied! What thin partitions
sense from thought divide!"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></SPAN>CHAPTER II.</h2>
<p class="chap">CULTIVATION OF THE MEMORY.</p>
<p>This book is written with the fundamental
intention and idea of pointing out a rational
and workable method whereby the memory
may be developed, trained and cultivated.
Many persons seem to be under the impression
that memories are bestowed by nature,
in a fixed degree or possibilities, and that little
more can be done for them—in short, that
memories are born, not made. But the fallacy
of any such idea is demonstrated by the investigations
and experiments of all the leading
authorities, as well as by the results obtained
by persons who have developed and
cultivated their own memories by individual
effort without the assistance of an instructor.
But all such improvement, to be real, must
be along certain natural lines and in accordance
with the well established laws of psychology,
instead of along artificial lines and
in defiance of psychological principles. Cul<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</SPAN></span>tivation
of the memory is a far different
thing from "trick memory," or feats of mental
legerdemain if the term is permissible.</p>
<p>Kay says: "That the memory is capable of
indefinite improvement, there can be no manner
of doubt; but with regard to the means
by which this improvement is to be effected
mankind are still greatly in ignorance." Dr.
Noah Porter says: "The natural as opposed
to the artificial memory depends on the relations
of sense and the relations of thought,—the
spontaneous memory of the eye and the
ear availing itself of the obvious conjunctions
of objects which are furnished by space and
time, and the rational memory of those higher
combinations which the rational faculties
superinduce upon those lower. The artificial
memory proposes to substitute for the natural
and necessary relations under which all objects
must present and arrange themselves,
an entirely new set of relations that are purely
arbitrary and mechanical, which excite
little or no other interest than that they are
to aid us in remembering. It follows that if
the mind tasks itself to the special effort of
considering objects under these artificial re<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</SPAN></span>lations,
it will give less attention to those
which have a direct and legitimate interest
for itself." Granville says: "The defects of
most methods which have been devised and
employed for improving the memory, lies in
the fact that while they serve to impress particular
subjects on the mind, they do not render
the memory, as a whole, ready or attentive."
Fuller says: "Surely an art of memory
may be made more destructive to natural
memory than spectacles are to eyes." These
opinions of the best authorities might be multiplied
indefinitely—the consensus of the best
opinion is decidedly against the artificial systems,
and in favor of the natural ones.</p>
<p>Natural systems of memory culture are
based upon the fundamental conception so
well expressed by Helvetius, several centuries
ago, when he said: "The extent of the memory
depends, first, on the daily use we make
of it; secondly, upon the attention with which
we consider the objects we would impress
upon it; and, thirdly, upon the order in which
we range our ideas." This then is the list
of the three essentials in the cultivation of
the memory: (1) Use and exercise; review<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</SPAN></span>
and practice; (2) Attention and Interest;
and (3) Intelligent Association.</p>
<p>You will find that in the several chapters
of this book dealing with the various phases
of memory, we urge, first, last, and all the
time, the importance of the use and employment
of the memory, in the way of employment,
exercise, practice and review work.
Like any other mental faculty, or physical
function, the memory will tend to atrophy
by disuse, and increase, strengthen and develop
by rational exercise and employment
within the bounds of moderation. You develop
a muscle by exercise; you train any
special faculty of the mind in the same way;
and you must pursue the same method in the
case of the memory, if you would develop it.
Nature's laws are constant, and bear a close
analogy to each other. You will also notice
the great stress that we lay upon the use of
the faculty of attention, accompanied by interest.
By attention you acquire the impressions
that you file away in your mental record-file
of memory. And the degree of attention
regulates the depth, clearness and
strength of the impression. Without a good<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</SPAN></span>
record, you cannot expect to obtain a good
reproduction of it. A poor phonographic
record results in a poor reproduction, and the
rule applies in the case of the memory as
well. You will also notice that we explain the
laws of association, and the principles which
govern the subject, as well as the methods
whereby the proper associations may be
made. Every association that you weld to an
idea or an impression, serves as a cross-reference
in the index, whereby the thing is
found by remembrance or recollection when
it is needed. We call your attention to the
fact that one's entire education depends for
its efficiency upon this law of association. It
is a most important feature in the rational
cultivation of the memory, while at the same
time being the bane of the artificial systems.
Natural associations educate, while artificial
ones tend to weaken the powers of the mind,
if carried to any great length.</p>
<p>There is no Royal Road to Memory. The
cultivation of the memory depends upon the
practice along certain scientific lines according
to well established psychological laws.
Those who hope for a sure "short cut" will<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</SPAN></span>
be disappointed, for none such exists. As
Halleck says: "The student ought not to be
disappointed to find that memory is no exception
to the rule of improvement by proper
methodical and long continued exercise. There
is no royal road, no short cut, to the improvement
of either mind or muscle. But the student
who follows the rules which psychology
has laid down may know that he is walking
in the shortest path, and not wandering aimlessly
about. Using these rules, he will advance
much faster than those without chart,
compass, or pilot. He will find mnemonics of
extremely limited use. Improvement comes
by orderly steps. Methods that dazzle at
first sight never give solid results."</p>
<p>The student is urged to pay attention to
what we have to say in other chapters of the
book upon the subjects of attention and association.
It is not necessary to state here
the particulars that we mention there. The
cultivation of the attention is a prerequisite
for good memory, and deficiency in this respect
means deficiency not only in the field
of memory but also in the general field of
mental work. In all branches of The New<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</SPAN></span>
Psychology there is found a constant repetition
of the injunction to cultivate the faculty
of attention and concentration. Halleck
says: "Haziness of perception lies at the root
of many a bad memory. If perception is definite,
the first step has been taken toward insuring
a good memory. If the first impression
is vivid, its effect upon the brain cells is
more lasting. All persons ought to practice
their visualizing power. This will react upon
perception and make it more definite. Visualizing
will also form a brain habit of remembering
things pictorially, and hence more
exactly."</p>
<p>The subject of association must also receive
its proper share of attention, for it is by
means of association that the stored away
records of the memory may be recovered or
re-collected. As Blackie says: "Nothing
helps the mind so much as order and classification.
Classes are few, individuals many:
to know the class well is to know what is most
essential in the character of the individual,
and what burdens the memory least to retain."
And as Halleck says regarding the
subject of association by relation: "When<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</SPAN></span>ever
we can discover any relation between
facts, it is far easier to remember them. The
intelligent law of memory may be summed
up in these words: Endeavor to link by some
thought relation each new mental acquisition
to an old one. Bind new facts to other facts
by relations of similarity, cause and effect,
whole and part, or by any logical relation,
and we shall find that when an idea occurs to
us, a host of related ideas will flow into the
mind. If we wish to prepare a speech or write
an article on any subject, pertinent illustrations
will suggest themselves. The person
whose memory is merely contiguous will
wonder how we think of them."</p>
<p>In your study for the cultivation of the
memory, along the lines laid down in this
book, you have read the first chapter thereof
and have informed yourself thoroughly regarding
the importance of the memory to the
individual, and what a large part it plays in
the entire work of the mind. Now carefully
read the third chapter and acquaint yourself
with the possibilities in the direction of cultivating
the memory to a high degree, as evidenced
by the instances related of the extreme<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</SPAN></span>
case of development noted therein. Then
study the chapter on memory systems, and
realize that the only true method is the natural
method, which requires work, patience
and practice—then make up your mind that
you will follow this plan as far as it will take
you. Then acquaint yourself with the secret
of memory—the subconscious region of the
mind, in which the records of memory are
kept, stored away and indexed, and in which
the little mental office-boys are busily at work.
This will give you the key to the method.
Then take up the two chapters on attention,
and association, respectively, and acquaint
yourself with these important principles.
Then study the chapter on the phases of memory,
and take mental stock of yourself, determining
in which phase of memory you are
strongest, and in which you need development.
Then read the two chapters on training
the eye and ear, respectively—you need
this instruction. Then read over the several
chapters on the training of the special phases
of the memory, whether you need them or not—you
may find something of importance in
them. Then read the concluding chapter,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</SPAN></span>
which gives you some general advice and
parting instruction. Then return to the
chapters dealing with the particular phases
of memory in which you have decided to develop
yourself, studying the details of the
instruction carefully until you know every
point of it. Then, most important of all—<i>get
to work</i>. The rest is a matter of practice,
practice, practice, and rehearsal. Go back to
the chapters from time to time, and refresh
your mind regarding the details. Re-read
each chapter at intervals. Make the book
your own, in every sense of the word, by absorbing
its contents.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></SPAN>CHAPTER III.</h2>
<p class="chap">CELEBRATED CASES OF MEMORY.</p>
<p>In order that the student may appreciate
the marvelous extent of development possible
to the memory, we have thought it advisable
to mention a number of celebrated cases, past
and present. In so doing we have no desire
to hold up these cases as worthy of imitation,
for they are exceptional and not necessary
in every-day life. We mention them merely
to show to what wonderful extent development
along these lines is possible.</p>
<p>In India, in the past, the sacred books were
committed to memory, and handed down from
teacher to student, for ages. And even to-day
it is no uncommon thing for the student to
be able to repeat, word for word, some voluminous
religious work equal in extent to the
New Testament. Max Muller states that the
entire text and glossary of Panini's Sanscrit
grammar, equal in extent to the entire Bible,
were handed down orally for several centuries<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</SPAN></span>
before being committed to writing. There
are Brahmins to-day who have committed to
memory, and who can repeat at will, the entire
collection of religious poems known as
the <i>Mahabarata</i>, consisting of over 300,000
<i>slokas</i> or verses. Leland states that, "the
Slavonian minstrels of the present day have
by heart with remarkable accuracy immensely
long epic poems. I have found the same
among Algonquin Indians whose sagas or
mythic legends are interminable, and yet are
committed word by word accurately. I have
heard in England of a lady ninety years of
age whose memory was miraculous, and of
which extraordinary instances are narrated
by her friends. She attributed it to the fact
that when young she had been made to learn
a verse from the Bible every day, and then
constantly review it. As her memory improved,
she learned more, the result being
that in the end she could repeat from memory
any verse or chapter called for in the whole
Scripture."</p>
<p>It is related that Mithridates, the ancient
warrior-king, knew the name of every soldier
in his great army, and conversed fluently in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</SPAN></span>
twenty-two dialects. Pliny relates that Charmides
could repeat the contents of every
book in his large library. Hortensius, the
Roman orator, had a remarkable memory
which enabled him to retain and recollect the
exact words of his opponent's argument,
without making a single notation. On a wager,
he attended a great auction sale which lasted
over an entire day, and then called off in their
proper order every object sold, the name of
its purchaser, and the price thereof. Seneca
is said to have acquired the ability to memorize
several thousand proper names, and to
repeat them in the order in which they had
been given him, and also to reverse the order
and call off the list backward. He also accomplished
the feat of listening to several
hundred persons, each of whom gave him a
verse; memorizing the same as they proceeded;
and then repeating them word for
word in the exact order of their delivery—and
then reversing the process, with complete
success. Eusebius stated that only the
memory of Esdras saved the Hebrew Scriptures
to the world, for when the Chaldeans
destroyed the manuscripts Esdras was able<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</SPAN></span>
to repeat them, word by word to the scribes,
who then reproduced them. The Mohammedan
scholars are able to repeat the entire
text of the Koran, letter perfect. Scaliger
committed the entire text of the Iliad and the
Odyssey, in three weeks. Ben Jonson is said
to have been able to repeat all of his own
works from memory, with the greatest ease.</p>
<p>Bulwer could repeat the Odes of Horace
from memory. Pascal could repeat the entire
Bible, from beginning to end, as well as being
able to recall any given paragraph, verse,
line, or chapter. Landor is said to have read
a book but once, when he would dispose of it,
having impressed it upon his memory, to be
recalled years after, if necessary. Byron
could recite all of his own poems. Buffon
could repeat his works from beginning to end.
Bryant possessed the same ability to repeat
his own works. Bishop Saunderson could repeat
the greater part of Juvenal and Perseus,
all of Tully, and all of Horace. Fedosova,
a Russian peasant, could repeat over
25,000 poems, folk-songs, legends, fairy-tales,
war stories, etc., when she was over seventy<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</SPAN></span>
years of age. The celebrated "Blind Alick,"
an aged Scottish beggar, could repeat any
verse in the Bible called for, as well as the
entire text of all the chapters and books.
The newspapers, a few years ago, contained
the accounts of a man named Clark who lived
in New York City. He is said to have been
able to give the exact presidential vote in each
State of the Union since the first election. He
could give the population in every town of
any size in the world either present or in the
past providing there was a record of the
same. He could quote from Shakespeare for
hours at a time beginning at any given point
in any play. He could recite the entire text
of the Iliad in the original Greek.</p>
<p>The historical case of the unnamed Dutchman
is known to all students of memory.
This man is said to have been able to take up
a fresh newspaper; to read it all through, including
the advertisements; and then to repeat
its contents, word for word, from beginning
to end. On one occasion he is said to
have heaped wonder upon wonder, by repeating
the contents of the paper backward, be<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</SPAN></span>ginning
with the last word and ending with
the first. Lyon, the English actor, is said to
have duplicated this feat, using a large London
paper and including the market quotations,
reports of the debates in Parliament,
the railroad time-tables and the advertisements.
A London waiter is said to have performed
a similar feat, on a wager, he memorizing
and correctly repeating the contents of
an eight-page paper. One of the most remarkable
instances of extraordinary memory
known to history is that of the child Christian
Meinecken. When less than four years of
age he could repeat the entire Bible; two hundred
hymns; five thousand Latin words; and
much ecclesiastical history, theory, dogmas,
arguments; and an encyclopædic quantity of
theological literature. He is said to have
practically retained every word that was read
to him. His case was abnormal, and he died
at an early age.</p>
<p>John Stuart Mill is said to have acquired a
fair knowledge of Greek, at the age of three
years, and to have memorized Hume, Gibbon,
and other historians, at the age of eight.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</SPAN></span>
Shortly after he mastered and memorized
Herodotus, Xenophon, some of Socrates, and
six of Plato's "Dialogues." Richard Porson
is said to have memorized the entire text of
Homer, Horace, Cicero, Virgil, Livy, Shakespeare,
Milton, and Gibbon. He is said to
have been able to memorize any ordinary
novel at one careful reading; and to have
several times performed the feat of memorizing
the entire contents of some English
monthly review. De Rossi was able to perform
the feat of repeating a hundred lines
from any of the four great Italian poets,
provided he was given a line at random from
their works—his hundred lines following immediately
after the given line. Of course this
feat required the memorizing of the entire
works of those poets, and the ability to take
up the repetition from any given point, the
latter feature being as remarkable as the
former. There have been cases of printers
being able to repeat, word for word, books
of which they had set the type. Professor
Lawson was able to teach his classes on the
Scriptures without referring to the book. He<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</SPAN></span>
claimed that if the entire stock of Bibles
were to be destroyed, he could restore the
book entire, from his memory.</p>
<p>Rev. Thomas Fuller is said to have been
able to walk down a long London street, reading
the names of the signs on both sides; then
recalling them in the order in which they had
been seen, and then by reversing the order.
There are many cases on record of persons
who memorized the words of every known
tongue of civilization, as well as a great number
of dialects, languages, and tongues of
savage races. Bossuet had memorized the
entire Bible, and Homer, Horace and Virgil
beside. Niebuhr, the historian, was once employed
in a government office, the records of
which were destroyed. He, thereupon, restored
the entire contents of the book of records
which he had written—all from his memory.
Asa Gray knew the names of ten
thousand plants. Milton had a vocabulary
of twenty thousand words, and Shakespeare
one of twenty-five thousand. Cuvier and
Agassiz are said to have memorized lists of
several thousand species and varieties of ani<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</SPAN></span>mals.
Magliabechi, the librarian of Florence,
is said to have known the location of every
volume in the large library of which he was
in charge; and the complete list of works
along certain lines in all the other great libraries.
He once claimed that he was able to
repeat titles of over a half-million of books
in many languages, and upon many subjects.</p>
<p>In nearly every walk of life are to be found
persons with memories wonderfully developed
along the lines of their particular occupation.
Librarians possess this faculty to an
unusual degree. Skilled workers in the finer
lines of manufacture also manifest a wonderful
memory for the tiny parts of the manufactured
article, etc. Bank officers have a
wonderful memory for names and faces.
Some lawyers are able to recall cases quoted
in the authorities, years after they have read
them. Perhaps the most common, and yet
the most remarkable, instances of memorizing
in one's daily work is to be found in the
cases of the theatrical profession. In some
cases members of stock companies must not
only be able to repeat the lines of the play<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</SPAN></span>
they are engaged in acting at the time, but
also the one that they are rehearsing for the
following week, and possibly the one for the
second week. And in repertoire companies
the actors are required to be "letter-perfect"
in a dozen or more plays—surely a wonderful
feat, and yet one so common that no notice
is given to it.</p>
<p>In some of the celebrated cases, the degree
of recollection manifested is undoubtedly abnormal,
but in the majority of the cases it
may be seen that the result has been obtained
only by the use of natural methods and persistent
exercise. That wonderful memories
may be acquired by anyone who will devote
to the task patience, time and work, is a fact
generally acknowledged by all students of the
subject. It is not a <i>gift</i>, but something to
be won by effort and work along scientific
lines.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></SPAN>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
<p class="chap">MEMORY SYSTEMS.</p>
<p>The subject of Memory Development is not
a new one by any means. For two thousand
years, at least, there has been much thought
devoted to the subject; many books written
thereupon; and many methods or "systems"
invented, the purpose of which has been the
artificial training of the memory. Instead of
endeavoring to develop the memory by scientific
training and rational practice and exercise
along natural lines, there seems to have
always been an idea that one could improve on
Nature's methods, and that a plan might be
devised by the use of some "trick" the memory
might be taught to give up her hidden
treasures. The law of Association has been
used in the majority of these systems, often to
a ridiculous degree. Fanciful systems have
been built up, all artificial in their character
and nature, the use of which to any great extent
is calculated to result in a decrease of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</SPAN></span>
the natural powers of remembrance and recollection,
just as in the case of natural "aids"
to the physical system there is always found
a decrease in the natural powers. Nature
prefers to do her own work, unaided. She
may be trained, led, directed and harnessed,
but she insists upon doing the work herself,
or dropping the task. The principle of Association
is an important one, and forms a part
of natural memory training, and should be
so used. But when pressed into service in
many of the artificial systems, the result is
the erection of a complex and unnatural
mental mechanism which is no more an improvement
upon the natural methods, than
a wooden leg is an improvement upon the
original limb. There are many points in
some of these "systems" which may be employed
to advantage in natural memory training,
by divorcing them from their fantastic
rules and complex arrangement. We ask you
to run over the list of the principal "systems"
with us, that you may discard the
useless material by recognizing it as such;
and cull the valuable for your own use.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The ancient Greeks were fond of memory
systems. Simonides, the Greek poet who
lived about 500 B.C. was one of the early
authorities, and his work has influenced
nearly all of the many memory systems that
have sprung up since that time. There is a
romantic story connected with the foundation
of his system. It is related that the poet
was present at a large banquet attended by
some of the principal men of the place. He
was called out by a message from home,
and left before the close of the meal.
Shortly after he left, the ceiling of the banquet
hall fell upon the guests, killing all
present in the room, and mutilating their
bodies so terribly that their friends were unable
to recognize them. Simonides, having
a well-developed memory for places and position,
was able to recall the exact order in
which each guest had been seated, and therefore
was able to aid in the identification of
the remains. This occurrence impressed him
so forcibly that he devised a system of memory
based upon the idea of position, which attained
great popularity in Greece, and the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</SPAN></span>
leading writers of the day highly recommended
it.</p>
<p>The system of Simonides was based upon
the idea of position—it was known as "the
topical system." His students were taught
to picture in the mind a large building divided
into sections, and then into rooms, halls, etc.
The thing to be remembered was "visualized"
as occupying some certain space or place in
that building, the grouping being made according
to association and resemblance.
When one wished to recall the things to consciousness,
all that was necessary was to
visualize the mental building and then take
an imaginary trip from room to room, calling
off the various things as they had been placed.
The Greeks thought very highly of this plan,
and many variations of it were employed.
Cicero said: "By those who would improve
the memory, certain places must be fixed
upon, and of those things which they desire
to keep in memory symbols must be conceived
in the mind and ranged, as it were, in those
places; thus, the order of places would preserve
the order of things, and the symbols<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</SPAN></span>
of the things would denote the things themselves;
so that we should use the places as
waxen tablets and the symbols as letters."
Quintillian advises students to "fix in their
minds places of the greatest possible extent,
diversified by considerable variety, such as a
large house, for example, divided into many
apartments. Whatever is remarkable in it is
carefully impressed on the mind, so that the
thought may run over every part of it without
hesitation or delay.... Places we must
have, either fancied or selected, and images
or symbols which we may invent at pleasure.
These symbols are marks by which we may
distinguish the particulars which we have to
get by heart."</p>
<p>Many modern systems have been erected
upon the foundation of Simonides and in some
of which cases students have been charged
high prices "for the secret." The following
outline given by Kay gives the "secret" of
many a high priced system of this class: "Select
a number of rooms, and divide the walls
and floor of each, in imagination, into nine
equal parts or squares, three in a row. On<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</SPAN></span>
the front wall—that opposite the entrance—of
the first room, are the units; on the right-hand
wall the tens; on the left hand the twenties;
on the fourth wall the thirties; and on
the floor the forties. Numbers 10, 20, 30 and
40, each find a place on the roof above their
respective walls, while 50 occupies the centre
of the room. One room will thus furnish 50
places, and ten rooms as many as 500. Having
fixed these clearly in the mind, so as to
be able readily and at once to tell exactly the
position of each place or number, it is then
necessary to associate with each of them some
familiar object (or symbol) so that the object
being suggested its place may be instantly
remembered, or when the place be before the
mind its object may immediately spring up.
When this has been done thoroughly, the objects
can be run over in any order from beginning
to end, or from end to beginning, or
the place of any particular one can at once be
given. All that is further necessary is to associate
the ideas we wish to remember with
the objects in the various places, by which
means they are easily remembered, and can<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</SPAN></span>
be gone over in any order. In this way one
may learn to repeat several hundred disconnected
words or ideas in any order after hearing
them only once." We do not consider it
necessary to argue in detail the fact that this
system is artificial and cumbersome to a great
degree. While the idea of "position" may
be employed to some advantage in grouping
together in the memory several associated
facts, ideas, or words, still the idea of employing
a process such as the above in the ordinary
affairs of life is ridiculous, and any system
based upon it has a value only as a
curiosity, or a mental acrobatic feat.</p>
<p>Akin to the above is the idea underlying
many other "systems," and "secret methods"—the
idea of Contiguity, in which words
are strung together by fanciful connecting
links. Feinagle describes this underlying
idea, or principle, as follows: "The recollection
of them is assisted by associating some
idea of relation between the two; and as we
find by experience that whatever is ludicrous
is calculated to make a strong impression on
the mind, the more ridiculous the association<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</SPAN></span>
is the better." The systems founded upon
this idea may be employed to repeat a long
string of disconnected words, and similar
things, but have but little practical value,
notwithstanding the high prices charged for
them. They serve merely as curiosities, or
methods of performing "tricks" to amuse
one's friends. Dr. Kothe, a German teacher,
about the middle of the nineteenth century
founded this last school of memory training,
his ideas serving as the foundation for many
teachers of high-priced "systems" or "secret
methods" since that time. The above description
of Feinagle gives the key to the principle
employed. The working of the principle
is accomplished by the employment of "intermediates"
or "correlatives" as they are
called; for instance, the words "chimney"
and "leaf" would be connected as follows:
"<i>Chimney</i>—smoke—wood—tree—<i>Leaf</i>."</p>
<p>Then there are systems or methods based
on the old principle of the "Figure Alphabet,"
in which one is taught to remember
dates by associating them with letters or
words. For instance, one of the teachers of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</SPAN></span>
this class of systems, wished his pupils to
remember the year 1480 by the word "BiG
RaT," the capitals representing the figures
in the date. Comment is unnecessary!</p>
<p>The student will find that nearly all the
"systems" or "secret methods" that are being
offered for sale in "courses," often at
a very high price, are merely variations, improvements
upon, or combinations of the
three forms of artificial methods named
above. New changes are constantly being
worked on these old plans; new tunes played
on the same old instruments; new chimes
sounded from the same old bells. And the result
is ever the same, in these cases—disappointment
and disgust. There are a few
natural systems on the market, nearly all of
which contain information and instruction
that makes them worth the price at which
they are sold. As for the others—well, judge
for yourself after purchasing them, if you so
desire.</p>
<p>Regarding these artificial and fanciful systems,
Kay says: "All such systems for the
improvement of the memory belong to what<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</SPAN></span>
we have considered the first or lowest form
of it. They are for the most part based on
light or foolish associations which have little
foundation in nature, and are hence of little
practical utility; and they do not tend to improve
or strengthen the memory as a whole."
Bacon says that these systems are "barren
and useless," adding: "For immediately to
repeat a multitude of names or words once
repeated before, I esteem no more than rope-dancing,
antic postures, and feats of activity;
and, indeed, they are nearly the same things,
the one being the abuse of the bodily as the
other of the mental powers; and though they
may cause admiration, they cannot be highly
esteemed." And as another authority has
said: "The systems of mnemonics as
taught, are no better than crutches, useful to
those who cannot walk, but impediments and
hindrances to those who have the use of their
limbs, and who only require to exercise them
properly in order to have the full use of
them."</p>
<p>In this work, there shall be no attempt to
teach any of these "trick systems" that the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</SPAN></span>
student may perform for the amusement of
his friends. Instead, there is only the desire
to aid in developing the power to receive impressions,
to register them upon the memory,
and readily to reproduce them at will, naturally
and easily. The lines of natural mental
action will be followed throughout. The idea
of this work is not to teach how one may perform
"feats" of memory; but, instead, to instruct
in the intelligent and practical use of
the memory in the affairs of every-day life
and work.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></SPAN>CHAPTER V.</h2>
<p class="chap">THE SUBCONSCIOUS RECORD-FILE.</p>
<p>The old writers on the subject were wont to
consider the memory as a separate faculty of
the mind, but this idea disappeared before
the advancing tide of knowledge which resulted
in the acceptance of the conception now
known as The New Psychology. This new
conception recognizes the existence of a vast
"out of consciousness" region of the mind,
one phase of which is known as the subconscious
mind, or the subconscious field of mental
activities. In this field of mentation the activities
of memory have their seat. A careful
consideration of the subject brings the certainty
that the entire work of the memory is
performed in this subconscious region of the
mind. Only when the subconscious record is
represented to the conscious field, and recollection
or remembrance results, does the memorized
idea or impression emerge from the
subconscious region. An understanding of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</SPAN></span>
this fact simplifies the entire subject of the
memory, and enables us to perfect plans and
methods whereby the memory may be developed,
improved and trained, by means of the
direction of the subconscious activities by the
use of the conscious faculties and the will.</p>
<p>Hering says: "Memory is a faculty not
only of our conscious states, but also, and
much more so, of our unconscious ones."
Kay says: "It is impossible to understand
the true nature of memory, or how to train
it aright, unless we have a clear conception
of the fact that there is much in the mind of
which we are unconscious.... The
highest form of memory, as of all the mental
powers, is the unconscious—when what we
wish to recall comes to us spontaneously,
without any conscious thought or search for
it. Frequently when we wish to recall something
that has previously been in the mind
we are unable to do so by any conscious effort
of the will; but we turn the attention to something
else, and after a time the desired information
comes up spontaneously when we
are not consciously thinking of it." Carpen<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</SPAN></span>ter
says: "There is the working of a mechanism
beneath the consciousness which, when
once set going, runs on of itself, and which
is more likely to evolve the desired result
when the conscious activity of the mind is exerted
in a direction altogether different."</p>
<p>This subconscious region of the mind is the
great record-file of everything we have ever
experienced, thought or known. Everything
is recorded there. The best authorities now
generally agree that there is no such thing as
an absolute forgetting of even the most
minute impression, notwithstanding the fact
that we may be unable to recollect or remember
it, owing to its faintness, or lack of associated
"indexing." It is held that everything
is to be found in that subconscious
index-file, if we can only manage to find its
place. Kay says: "In like manner we believe
that every impression or thought that
has once been before consciousness remains
ever afterward impressed upon the mind. It
may never again come up before consciousness,
but it will doubtless remain in that vast
ultra-conscious region of the mind, uncon<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</SPAN></span>sciously
moulding and fashioning our subsequent
thoughts and actions. It is only a small
part of what exists in the mind that we are
conscious of. There is always much that is
known to be in the mind that exists in it unconsciously,
and must be stored away somewhere.
We may be able to recall it into consciousness
when we wish to do so; but at
other times the mind is unconscious of its existence.
Further, every one's experience
must tell him that there is much in his mind
that he cannot always recall when he may
wish to do so,—much that he can recover only
after a labored search, or that he may search
for in vain at the time, but which may occur
to him afterwards when perhaps he is not
thinking about it. Again, much that we probably
would never be able to recall, or that
would not recur to us under ordinary circumstances,
we may remember to have had in the
mind when it is mentioned to us by others.
In such a case there must still have remained
some trace or scintilla of it in the mind before
we could recognize it as having been
there before."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Morell says: "We have every reason to
believe that mental power when once called
forth follows the analogy of everything we
see in the material universe in the fact of its
perpetuity. Every single effort of mind is a
creation which can never go back again into
nonentity. It may slumber in the depths of
forgetfulness as light and heat slumber in the
coal seams, but there it is, ready at the bidding
of some appropriate stimulus to come
again out of the darkness into the light of
consciousness." Beattie says: "That which
has been long forgotten, nay, that which we
have often in vain endeavored to recollect,
will sometimes without an effort of ours occur
to us on a sudden, and, if I may so speak, of
its own accord." Hamilton says: "The
mind frequently contains whole systems of
knowledge which, though in our normal state
they may have faded into absolute oblivion,
may in certain abnormal states, as madness,
delirium, somnambulism, catalepsy, etc., flash
out into luminous consciousness.... For
example, there are cases in which the extinct
memory of whole languages were suddenly re<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</SPAN></span>stored."
Lecky says: "It is now fully established
that a multitude of events which
are so completely forgotten that no effort of
the will can revive them, and that the statement
of them calls up no reminiscences, may
nevertheless be, so to speak, embedded in the
memory, and may be reproduced with intense
vividness under certain physical conditions."</p>
<p>In proof of the above, the authorities give
many instances recorded in scientific annals.
Coleridge relates the well-known case of the
old woman who could neither read nor write,
who when in the delirium of fever incessantly
recited in very pompous tones long passages
from the Latin, Greek and Hebrew, with a
distinct enunciation and precise rendition.
Notes of her ravings were taken down by
shorthand, and caused much wonderment,
until it was afterwards found that in her
youth she had been employed as a servant in
the house of a clergyman who was in the habit
of walking up and down in his study reading
aloud from his favorite classical and religious
writers. In his books were found marked
passages corresponding to the notes taken<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</SPAN></span>
from the girl's ravings. Her subconscious
memory had stored up the sounds of these
passages heard in her early youth, but of
which she had no recollection in her normal
state. Beaufort, describing his sensations
just before being rescued from drowning
says: "Every incident of my former life
seemed to glance across my recollection in a
retrograde procession, not in mere outline,
but in a picture filled with every minute and
collateral feature, thus forming a panoramic
view of my whole existence."</p>
<p>Kay truly observes: "By adopting the
opinion that every thought or impression that
had once been consciously before the mind is
ever afterwards retained, we obtain light on
many obscure mental phenomena; and especially
do we draw from it the conclusion of the
perfectibility of the memory to an almost
unlimited extent. We cannot doubt that,
could we penetrate to the lowest depths of
our mental nature, we should there find traces
of every impression we have received, every
thought we have entertained, and every act
we have done through our past life, each one<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</SPAN></span>
making its influence felt in the way of building
up our present knowledge, or in guiding
our every-day actions; and if they persist in
the mind, might it not be possible to recall
most if not all of them into consciousness
when we wished to do so, if our memories or
powers of recollection were what they should
be?"</p>
<p>As we have said, this great subconscious
region of the mind—this Memory region—may
be thought of as a great record file, with
an intricate system of indexes, and office
boys whose business it is to file away the
records; to index them; and to find them when
needed. The records record only what we have
impressed upon them by the attention, the degree
of depth and clearness depending entirely
upon the degree of attention which we
bestowed upon the original impression. We
can never expect to have the office boys of
the memory bring up anything that they have
not been given to file away. The indexing,
and cross-references are supplied by the association
existing between the various impressions.
The more cross-references, or as<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</SPAN></span>sociations
that are connected with an idea,
thought or impression that is filed away in the
memory, the greater the chances of it being
found readily when wanted. These two features
of attention and association, and the
parts they play in the phenomena of memory,
are mentioned in detail in other chapters of
this book.</p>
<p>These little office boys of the memory are
an industrious and willing lot of little chaps,
but like all boys they do their best work when
kept in practice. Idleness and lack of exercise
cause them to become slothful and careless,
and forgetful of the records under their
charge. A little fresh exercise and work soon
take the cobwebs out of their brains, and they
spring eagerly to their tasks. They become
familiar with their work when exercised properly,
and soon become very expert. They
have a tendency to remember, on their own
part, and when a certain record is called for
often they grow accustomed to its place, and
can find it without referring to the indexes
at all. But their trouble comes from faint
and almost illegible records, caused by poor<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</SPAN></span>
attention—these they can scarcely decipher
when they do succeed in finding them. Lack
of proper indexing by associations causes
them much worry and extra work, and sometimes
they are unable to find the records at
all from this neglect. Often, however, after
they have told you that they could not find
a thing, and you have left the place in disgust,
they will continue their search and
hours afterward will surprise you by handing
you the desired idea, or impression, which
they had found carelessly indexed or improperly
filed away. In these chapters you will be
helped, if you will carry in your mind these
little office boys of the memory record file,
and the hard work they have to do for you,
much of which is made doubly burdensome by
your own neglect and carelessness. Treat
these little fellows right and they will work
overtime for you, willingly and joyfully. But
they need your assistance and encouragement,
and an occasional word of praise and
commendation.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></SPAN>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
<p class="chap">ATTENTION.</p>
<p>As we have seen in the preceding chapters,
before one can expect to recall or remember a
thing, that thing must have been impressed
upon the records of his subconsciousness, distinctly
and clearly. And the main factor of
the recording of impressions is that quality
of the mind that we call Attention. All the
leading authorities on the subject of memory
recognize and teach the value of attention in
the cultivation and development of the memory.
Tupper says: "Memory, the daughter
of Attention, is the teeming mother of wisdom."
Lowell says: "Attention is the stuff
that Memory is made of, and Memory is accumulated
Genius." Hall says: "In the
power of fixing the attention lies the most
precious of the intellectual habits." Locke
says: "When the ideas that offer themselves
are taken notice of, and, as it were, registered
in the memory, it is Attention." Stewart<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</SPAN></span>
says: "The permanence of the impression
which anything leaves on the memory, is
proportionate to the degree of attention which
was originally given to it." Thompson says:
"The experiences most permanently impressed
upon consciousness are those upon
which the greatest amount of attention has
been fixed." Beattie says: "The force
wherewith anything strikes the mind is generally
in proportion to the degree of attention
bestowed upon it. The great art of memory
is attention.... Inattentive people
have always bad memories." Kay says: "It
is generally held by philosophers that without
some degree of attention no impression
of any duration could be made on the mind,
or laid up in the memory." Hamilton says:
"It is a law of the mind that the intensity of
the present consciousness determines the vivacity
of the future memory; memory and
consciousness are thus in the direct ratio of
each other. Vivid consciousness, long memory;
faint consciousness, short memory; no
consciousness, no memory.... An act
of attention, that is an act of concentration,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</SPAN></span>
seems thus necessary to every exertion of
consciousness, as a certain contraction of the
pupil is requisite to every exertion of vision.
Attention, then, is to consciousness what the
contraction of the pupil is to sight, or to the
eye of the mind what the microscope or telescope
is to the bodily eye. It constitutes the
better half of all intellectual power."</p>
<p>We have quoted from the above authorities
at considerable length, for the purpose of impressing
upon your mind the importance of
this subject of Attention. The subconscious
regions of the mind are the great storehouses
of the mental records of impressions from
within and without. Its great systems of filing,
recording and indexing these records constitute
that which we call memory. But before
any of this work is possible, impressions
must first have been received. And, as you
may see from the quotations just given, these
impressions depend upon the power of attention
given to the things making the impressions.
If there has been given great attention,
there will be clear and deep impressions;
if there has been given but average attention,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</SPAN></span>
there will be but average impressions; if
there has been given but faint attention, there
will be but faint impressions; if there has
been given no attention, there will be no records.</p>
<p>One of the most common causes of poor
attention is to be found in the lack of interest.
We are apt to remember the things in which
we have been most interested, because in that
outpouring of interest there has been a high
degree of attention manifested. A man may
have a very poor memory for many things,
but when it comes to the things in which his
interest is involved he often remembers the
most minute details. What is called involuntary
attention is that form of attention that
follows upon interest, curiosity, or desire—no
special effort of the will being required in
it. What is called voluntary attention is that
form of attention that is bestowed upon objects
not necessarily interesting, curious, or
attractive—this requires the application of
the will, and is a mark of a developed character.
Every person has more or less involuntary
attention, while but few possess devel<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</SPAN></span>oped
voluntary attention. The former is instinctive—the
latter comes only by practice
and training.</p>
<p>But there is this important point to be remembered,
that <i>interest may be developed by
voluntary attention</i> bestowed and held upon
an object. Things that are originally lacking
in sufficient interest to attract the involuntary
attention may develop a secondary
interest if the voluntary attention be placed
upon and held upon them. As Halleck says
on this point: "When it is said that attention
will not take a firm hold on an uninteresting
thing, we must not forget that anyone
not shallow and fickle can soon discover something
interesting in most objects. Here cultivated
minds show their especial superiority,
for the attention which they are able to give
generally ends in finding a pearl in the most
uninteresting looking oyster. When an object
necessarily loses interest from one point
of view, such minds discover in it new attributes.
The essence of genius is to present
an old thing in new ways, whether it be some
force in nature or some aspect of humanity."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>It is very difficult to teach another person
how to cultivate the attention. This because
the whole thing consists so largely in the use
of the will, and by faithful practice and persistent
application. The first requisite is <i>the
determination to use the will</i>. You must argue
it out with yourself, until you become convinced
that it is necessary and desirable for
you to acquire the art of voluntary attention—you
must convince yourself beyond reasonable
doubt. This is the first step and one
more difficult than it would seem at first sight.
The principal difficulty in it lies in the fact
that to do the thing you must do some active
earnest thinking, and the majority of people
are too lazy to indulge in such mental effort.
Having mastered this first step, you must
induce a strong burning desire to acquire the
art of voluntary attention—you must learn
to want it hard. In this way you induce a
condition of interest and attractiveness where
it was previously lacking. Third and last,
you must hold your will firmly and persistently
to the task, and practice faithfully.</p>
<p>Begin by turning your attention upon some<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</SPAN></span>
uninteresting thing and studying its details
until you are able to describe them. This
will prove very tiresome at first but you must
stick to it. Do not practice too long at a time
at first; take a rest and try it again later. You
will soon find that it comes easier, and that
a new interest is beginning to manifest itself
in the task. Examine this book, as practice,
learn how many pages there are in it; how
many chapters; how many pages in each
chapter; the details of type, printing and
binding—all the little things about it—so
that you could give another person a full account
of the minor details of the book. This
may seem uninteresting—and so it will be at
first—but a little practice will create a new
interest in the petty details, and you will be
surprised at the number of little things that
you will notice. This plan, practiced on many
things, in spare hours, will develop the power
of voluntary attention and perception in anyone,
no matter how deficient he may have
been in these things. If you can get some one
else to join in the game-task with you, and
then each endeavor to excel the other in find<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</SPAN></span>ing
details, the task will be much easier, and
better work will be accomplished. Begin to
take notice of things about you; the places
you visit; the things in the rooms, etc. In
this way you will start the habit of "noticing
things," which is the first requisite for memory
development.</p>
<p>Halleck gives the following excellent advice
on this subject: "To look at a thing intelligently
is the most difficult of all arts. The
first rule for the cultivation of accurate perception
is: Do not try to perceive the whole
of a complex object at once. Take the human
face as an example. A man, holding an important
position to which he had been elected,
offended many people because he could not
remember faces, and hence failed to recognize
individuals the second time he met them.
His trouble was in looking at the countenance
as a whole. When he changed his method of
observation, and noticed carefully the nose,
mouth, eyes, chin, and color of hair, he at
once began to find recognition easier. He was
no longer in difficulty of mistaking A for B,
since he remembered that the shape of B's<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</SPAN></span>
nose was different, or the color of his hair at
least three shades lighter. This example
shows that another rule can be formulated:
Pay careful attention to details. We are perhaps
asked to give a minute description of
the exterior of a somewhat noted suburban
house that we have lately seen. We reply in
general terms, giving the size and color of
the house. Perhaps we also have an idea of
part of the material used in the exterior construction.
We are asked to be exact about the
shape of the door, porch, roof, chimneys and
windows; whether the windows are plain or
circular, whether they have cornices, or
whether the trimmings around them are of
the same material as the rest of the house. A
friend, who will be unable to see the house,
wishes to know definitely about the angles of
the roof, and the way the windows are arranged
with reference to them. Unless we
can answer these questions exactly, we merely
tantalize our friends by telling them we have
seen the house. To see an object merely as
an undiscriminated mass of something in a
certain place, is to do no more than a donkey
accomplishes as he trots along."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>There are three general rules that may be
given in this matter of bestowing the voluntary
attention in the direction of actually
<i>seeing</i> things, instead of merely looking at
them. The first is: Make yourself take an
interest in the thing. The second: See it
as if you were taking note of it in order to
repeat its details to a friend—this will force
you to "take notice." The third: Give to
your subconsciousness a mental command to
take note of what you are looking at—say to
it; "Here, you take note of this and remember
it for me!" This last consists of a peculiar
"knack" that can be attained by a little
practice—it will "come to you" suddenly
after a few trials.</p>
<p>Regarding this third rule whereby the subconsciousness
is made to work for you,
Charles Leland has the following to say, although
he uses it to illustrate another point:
"As I understand it, it is a kind of impulse or
projection of will into the coming work. I may
here illustrate this with a curious fact in
physics. If the reader wished to ring a doorbell
so as to produce as much sound as pos<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</SPAN></span>sible,
he would probably pull it as far back
as he could, and then let it go. But if he
would, in letting it go, simply give it a tap
with his forefinger, he would actually redouble
the sound. Or, to shoot an arrow as
far as possible, it is not enough to <i>merely</i>
draw the bow to its utmost span or tension.
If, just as it goes, you will give the bow a
quick push, though the effort be trifling, the
arrow will fly almost as far again as it would
have done without it. Or, if, as is well known
in wielding a very sharp sabre, we make the
draw cut; that is, if to the blow or chop, as
with an axe, we also add a certain slight
pull, simultaneously, we can cut through a
silk handkerchief or a sheep. Forethought
(command to the subconsciousness) is the
tap on the bell; the push on the bow; the
draw on the sabre. It is the deliberate but
yet rapid action of the mind when before
dismissing thought, we bid the mind to consequently
respond. It is more than merely
thinking what we are to do; it is the bidding
or ordering the Self to fulfill a task before
willing it."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Remember first, last and always, that before
you can remember, or recollect, you must
first <i>perceive</i>; and that perception is possible
only through attention, and responds in degree
to the latter. Therefore, it has truly been
said that: "The great Art of Memory is Attention."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></SPAN>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
<p class="chap">ASSOCIATION.</p>
<p>In the preceding chapters we have seen
that in order that a thing may be remembered,
it must be impressed clearly upon the mind in
the first place; and that in order to obtain a
clear impression there must be a manifestation
of attention. So much for the recording
of the impressions. But when we come to
recalling, recollecting or remembering the impressions
we are brought face to face with another
important law of memory—the law of
Association. Association plays a part analogous
to the indexing and cross-indexing of a
book; a library; or another system in which
the aim is to readily find something that has
been filed away, or contained in some way
in a collection of similar things. As Kay says:
"In order that what is in the memory may be
recalled or brought again before consciousness,
it is necessary that it be regarded in connection,
or in association with one or more<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</SPAN></span>
other things or ideas, and as a rule the greater
the number of other things with which it is
associated the greater the likelihood of its
recall. The two processes are involved in
every act of memory. We must first impress,
and then we must associate. Without a clear
impression being formed, that which is recalled
will be indistinct and inaccurate; and
unless it is associated with something else in
the mind, it cannot be recalled. If we may
suppose an idea existing in the mind by itself,
unconnected with any other idea, its recall
would be impossible."</p>
<p>All the best authorities recognize and teach
the importance of this law of association, in
connection with the memory. Abercrombie
says: "Next to the effect of attention is the
remarkable influence produced upon memory
by association." Carpenter says: "The recording
power of memory mainly depends
upon the degree of attention we give to the
idea to be remembered. The reproducing
power again altogether depends upon the nature
of the associations by which the new
idea has been linked on to other ideas which<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</SPAN></span>
have been previously recorded." Ribot says:
"The most fundamental law which regulates
psychological phenomena is the law of association.
In its comprehensive character it
is comparable to the law of attraction in the
physical world." Mill says: "That which
the law of gravitation is to astronomy; that
which the elementary properties of the tissues
are to physiology; the law of association
of ideas is to psychology." Stewart says:
"The connection between memory and the association
of ideas is so striking that it has
been supposed by some that the whole of the
phenomena might be resolved into this principle.
The association of ideas connects our
various thoughts with each other, so as to
present them to the mind in a certain order;
but it presupposes the existence of those
thoughts in the mind,—in other words it presupposes
a faculty of retaining the knowledge
which we acquire. On the other hand,
it is evident that without the associating principle,
the power of retaining our thoughts,
and of recognizing them when they occur to
us, would have been of little use; for the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</SPAN></span>
most important articles of our knowledge
might have remained latent in the mind, even
when those occasions presented themselves to
which they were immediately applicable."</p>
<p>Association of ideas depends upon two
principles known, respectively, as (1) the law
of contiguity; and (2) the law of similarity.
Association by contiguity is that form of association
by which an idea is linked, connected,
or associated with the sensation, thought, or
idea immediately preceding it, and that which
directly follows it. Each idea, or thought, is
a link in a great chain of thought being connected
with the preceding link and the succeeding
link. Association by similarity is
that form of association by which an idea,
thought, or sensation is linked, connected, or
associated with ideas, thoughts, or sensations
of a similar kind, which have occurred previously
or subsequently. The first form of
association is the relation of sequence—the
second the relation of kind.</p>
<p>Association by contiguity is the great law
of thought, as well as of memory. As Kay
says: "The great law of mental association<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</SPAN></span>
is that of contiguity, by means of which sensations
and ideas that have been in the mind
together or in close succession, tend to unite
together, or cohere in such a way that the
one can afterward recall the other. The connection
that naturally subsists between a sensation
or idea in the mind, and that which
immediately preceded or followed it, is of the
strongest and most intimate nature. The
two, strictly speaking, are but one, forming
one complete thought." As Taine says: "To
speak correctly, there is no isolated or separate
sensation. A sensation is a state which
begins as a continuation of preceding ones,
and ends by losing itself in those following
it; it is by an arbitrary severing, and for the
convenience of language, that we set it apart
as we do; its beginning is the end of another,
and its ending the beginning of another."
As Ribot says: "When we read or hear a
sentence, for example, at the commencement
of the fifth word something of the fourth
word still remains. Association by contiguity
may be separated into two sub-classes—contiguity
in time; and contiguity in space. In<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</SPAN></span>
contiguity in time there is manifested the
tendency of the memory to recall the impressions
in the same order in which they
were received—the first impression suggesting
the second, and that the third, and so on.
In this way the child learns to repeat the
alphabet, and the adult the succeeding lines
of a poem. As Priestly says: "In a poem,
the end of each preceding word being connected
with the beginning of the succeeding
one, we can easily repeat them in that order,
but we are not able to repeat them backwards
till they have been frequently named in that
order." Memory of words, or groups of words,
depends upon this form of contigious association.
Some persons are able to repeat long
poems from beginning to end, with perfect
ease, but are unable to repeat any particular
sentence, or verse, without working down to
it from the beginning. Contiguity in space is
manifested in forms of recollection or remembrance
by "position." Thus by remembering
the things connected with the position of
a particular thing, we are enabled to recall
the thing itself. As we have seen in a pre<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</SPAN></span>ceding
chapter, some forms of memory systems
have been based on this law. If you will
recall some house or room in which
you have been, you will find that you will
remember one object after another, in the
order of the relative positions, or contiguity
in space, or position. Beginning with the
front hall, you may travel in memory from
one room to another, recalling each with the
objects it contains, according to the degree of
attention you bestowed upon them originally.
Kay says of association by contiguity: "It
is on this principle of contiguity that mnemonical
systems are constructed, as when
what we wish to remember is associated in
the mind with a certain object or locality, the
ideas associated will at once come up; or
when each word or idea is associated with the
one immediately preceding it, so that when
the one is recalled the other comes up along
with it, and thus long lists of names or long
passages of books can be readily learnt by
heart."</p>
<p>From the foregoing, it will be seen that it
is of great importance that we correlate our<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</SPAN></span>
impressions with those preceding and following.
The more closely knitted together our
impressions are, the more closely will they
cohere, and the greater will be the facility of
remembering or recollecting them. We
should endeavor to form our impressions of
things so that they will be associated with
other impressions, in time and space. Every
other thing that is associated in the mind with
a given thing, serves as a "loose end" of
memory, which if once grasped and followed
up will lead us to the thing we desire to recall
to mind.</p>
<p>Association by similarity is the linking together
of impressions of a similar kind, irrespective
of time and place. Carpenter expresses
it as follows: "The law of similarity
expresses the general fact that any present
state of consciousness tends to revive previous
states which are similar to it....
Rational or philosophical association is when
a fact or statement on which the attention is
fixed is associated with some fact previously
known, to which it has a relation, or with
some subject which it is calculated to illus<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</SPAN></span>trate."
And as Kay says: "The similars
may be widely apart in space or in time, but
they are brought together and associated
through their resemblance to each other.
Thus, a circumstance of to-day may recall
circumstances of a similar nature that occurred
perhaps at very different times, and
they will become associated together in the
mind, so that afterwards the presence of one
will tend to recall the others." Abercrombie
says of this phase of association: "The habit
of correct association—that is, connecting
facts in the mind according to their true relations,
and to the manner in which they tend
to illustrate each other, is one of the principle
means of improving the memory, particularly
that kind of memory which is an essential
quality of a cultivated mind—namely, that
which is founded not upon incidental connections,
but on true and important relations."</p>
<p>As Beattie says: "The more relations or
likenesses that we find or can establish between
objects, the more easily will the view
of one lead us to recollect the rest." And as
Kay says: "In order to fix a thing in the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</SPAN></span>
memory, we must associate it with something
in the mind already, and the more closely
that which we wish to remember resembles
that with which it is associated, the better is
it fixed in the memory, and the more readily
is it recalled. If the two strongly resemble
each other, or are not to be distinguished
from each other, then the association is of the
strongest kind.... The memory is able
to retain and replace a vastly greater number
of ideas, if they are associated or arranged on
some principle of similarity, than if they are
presented merely as isolated facts. It is not
by the multitude of ideas, but the want of arrangement
among them, that the memory is
burdened and its powers weakened." As
Arnott says: "The ignorant man may be
said to have charged his hundred hooks of
knowledge (to use a rude simile), with single
objects, while the informed man makes each
hook support a long chain to which thousands
of kindred and useful things are attached."</p>
<p>We ask each student of this book to acquaint
himself with the general idea of the
working features of the law of association as<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</SPAN></span>
given in this chapter for the reason that
much of the instruction to be given under the
head of the several phases and classes of
memory is based upon an application of the
Law of Association, in connection with the law
of Attention. These fundamental principles
should be clearly grasped before one proceeds
to the details of practice and exercise. One
should know not only "how" to use the mind
and memory in certain ways, but also "why"
it is to be used in that particular way. By
understanding the "reason of it," one is better
able to follow out the directions.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></SPAN>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
<p class="chap">PHASES OF MEMORY.</p>
<p>One of the first things apt to be noticed
by the student of memory is the fact that
there are several different phases of the manifestation
of memory. That is to say, that
there are several general classes into which
the phenomena of memory may be grouped.
And accordingly we find some persons quite
highly developed in certain phases of memory,
and quite deficient in others. If there
were but one phase or class of memory, then
a person who had developed his memory
along any particular line would have at the
same time developed it equally along all the
other lines. But this is far from being the
true state of affairs. We find men who are
quite proficient in recalling the impression
of faces, while they find it very difficult to recall
the names of the persons whose faces
they remember. Others can remember faces,
and not names. Others have an excellent<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</SPAN></span>
recollection of localities, while others are constantly
losing themselves. Others remember
dates, prices, numbers, and figures generally,
while deficient in other forms of recollection.
Others remember tales, incidents, anecdotes
etc., while forgetting other things. And so
on, each person being apt to possess a memory
good in some phases, while deficient in
others.</p>
<p>The phases of memory may be divided into
two general classes, namely (1) Memory of
Sense Impressions; and (2) Memory of Ideas.
This classification is somewhat arbitrary, for
the reason that sense impressions develop
into ideas, and ideas are composed to a considerable
extent of sense impressions, but in
a general way the classification serves its
purpose, which is the grouping together of
certain phases of the phenomena of memory.</p>
<p>Memory of Sense Impressions of course includes
the impressions received from all of
the five senses: sight; hearing; taste; touch;
and smell. But when we come down to a practical
examination of sense impressions retained
in the memory, we find that the ma<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</SPAN></span>jority
of such impressions are those obtained
through the two respective senses of sight
and hearing. The impressions received from
the sense of taste, touch and smell, respectively,
are comparatively small, except in
the cases of certain experts in special lines,
whose occupation consists in acquiring a very
delicate sense of taste, smell or touch, and
correspondingly a fine sense of memory along
these particular lines. For instance, the
wine-taster and tea-tasters, who are able to
distinguish between the various grades of
merchandise handled by them, have developed
not only very fine senses of taste and smell,
but also a remarkable memory of the impressions
previously received, the power of discrimination
depending as much upon the
memory as upon the special sense. In the
same way the skilled surgeon as well as the
skilled mechanic acquires a fine sense of touch
and a correspondingly highly developed memory
of touch impressions.</p>
<p>But, as we have said, the greater part of
the sense impressions stored away in our
memories are those previously received<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</SPAN></span>
through the senses of sight and hearing, respectively.
The majority of sense impressions,
stored away in the memory, have been
received more or less involuntarily, that is
with the application of but a slight degree of
attention. They are more or less indistinct
and hazy, and are recalled with difficulty, the
remembrance of them generally coming about
without conscious effort, according to the law
of association. That is, they come principally
when we are thinking about something
else upon which we have given thought and
attention, and with which they have been associated.
There is quite a difference between
the remembrance of sense impressions
received in this way, and those which we
record by the bestowal of attention, interest
and concentration.</p>
<p>The sense impressions of sight are by far
the most numerous in our subconscious storehouse.
We are constantly exercising our
sense of sight, and receiving thousands of
different sight impressions every hour. But
the majority of these impressions are but
faintly recorded upon the memory, because<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</SPAN></span>
we give to them but little attention or interest.
But it is astonishing, at times, when we find
that when we recall some important event or
incident we also recall many faint sight impressions
of which we did not dream we had
any record. To realize the important part
played by sight impressions in the phenomena
of memory, recall some particular time or
event in your life, and see how many more
things that you <i>saw</i> are remembered, compared
with the number of things that you
<i>heard</i>, or tasted, or felt or smelled.</p>
<p>Second in number, however, are the impressions
received through the sense of hearing,
and consequently the memory stores
away a great number of sound impressions.
In some cases the impressions of sight and
sound are joined together, as for instance in
the case of words, in which not only the sound
but the shape of the letters composing the
word, or rather the word-shape itself, are
stored away together, and consequently are
far more readily remembered or recollected
than things of which but one sense impression
is recorded. Teachers of memory use<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</SPAN></span>
this fact as a means of helping their students
to memorize words by speaking them aloud,
and then writing them down. Many persons
memorize names in this way, the impression
of the written word being added to the impression
of the sound, thus doubling the
record. The more impressions that you can
make regarding a thing, the greater are the
chances of your easily recollecting it. Likewise
it is very important to attach an impression
of a weaker sense, to that of a stronger
one, in order that the former may be memorized.
For instance, if you have a good eye
memory, and a poor ear memory, it is well to
attach your sound impressions to the sight
impressions. And if you have a poor eye
memory, and a good ear memory it is important
to attach your sight impressions to your
sound impressions. In this way you take advantage
of the law of association, of which
we have told you.</p>
<p>Under the sub-class of sight impressions,
are found the smaller divisions of memory
known as memory of locality; memory of figures;
memory of form; memory of color; and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</SPAN></span>
memory of written or printed words. Under
the sub-class of sound impressions are found
the smaller divisions of memory known as
memory of spoken words; memory of names;
memory of stories; memory of music, etc.
We shall pay special attention to these forms
of memory, in succeeding chapters.</p>
<p>The second general class of memory,—memory
of ideas,—includes the memory of
facts, events, thoughts, lines of reasoning,
etc., and is regarded as higher in the scale
than the memory of sense impressions, although
not more necessary nor useful to the
average person. This form of memory of
course accompanies the higher lines of intellectual
effort and activities, and constitutes
a large part of what is known as true education,
that is education which teaches one to
think instead of to merely memorize certain
things taught in books or lectures.</p>
<p>The well-rounded man, mentally, is he who
has developed his memory on all sides, rather
than the one who has developed but one special
phase of the faculty. It is true that a
man's interest and occupation certainly tend<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</SPAN></span>
to develop his memory according to his daily
needs and requirements, but it is well that
he should give to the other parts of his memory
field some exercise, in order that he may
not grow one-sided. As Halleck has said:
"Many persons think that memory is mainly
due to sight; but we have as many different
kinds of memory as we have senses. To
sight, the watermelon is a long greenish body,
but this is its least important quality. Sight
alone gives the poorest idea of the watermelon.
We approach the vine where the fruit
is growing, and in order to decide whether it
is ripe, we tap the rind and judge by the
sound. We must remember that a ripe watermelon
has a certain resonance. By passing
our hands over the melon, we learn that it
has certain touch characteristics. We cut it
open and learn the qualities of taste and
smell. All this knowledge afforded by the different
senses must enter into a perfected
memory image. Hence we see that many
complex processes go to form an idea of a
thing. Napoleon was not content with only
hearing a name. He wrote it down, and hav<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</SPAN></span>ing
satisfied his eye memory as well as his
ear memory, he threw the paper away."</p>
<p>In this book we shall point out the methods
and processes calculated to round out the
memory of the student. As a rule his strong
phases of memory need but little attention,
although even in these a little scientific knowledge
will be of use. But in the weaker phases,
those phases in which his memory is "poor,"
he should exert a new energy and activity, to
the end that these weaker regions of the memory
may be cultivated and fertilized, and well
stored with the seed impressions, which will
bear a good crop in time. There is no phase,
field, or class of memory that is not capable
of being highly developed by intelligent application.
It requires practice, exercise and
work—but the reward is great. Many a man
is handicapped by being deficient in certain
phases of memory, while proficient in others.
The remedy is in his own hands, and we feel
that in this book we have given to each the
means whereby he may acquire a "good"
memory along any or all lines.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></SPAN>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
<p class="chap">TRAINING THE EYE.</p>
<p>Before the memory can be stored with sight
impressions—before the mind can recollect
or remember such impressions—the eye must
be used under the direction of the attention.
We think that we see things when we look at
them, but in reality we <i>see</i> but few things, in
the sense of registering clear and distinct impressions
of them upon the tablets of the subconscious
mind. We <i>look at</i> them rather than
<i>see</i> them.</p>
<p>Halleck says regarding this "sight without
seeing" idea: "A body may be imaged on the
retina without insuring perception. There
must be an effort to concentrate the attention
upon the many things which the world presents
to our senses. A man once said to the
pupils of a large school, all of whom had
seen cows: 'I should like to find out how many
of you know whether a cow's ears are above,
below, behind, or in front of her horns. I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</SPAN></span>
want only those pupils to raise their hands
who are sure about the position and who will
promise to give a dollar to charity if they answer
wrong.' Only two hands were raised.
Their owners had drawn cows and in order
to do that had been forced to concentrate their
attention upon the animals. Fifteen pupils
were sure that they had seen cats climb trees
and descend them. There was unanimity of
opinion that the cats went up heads first.
When asked whether the cats came down
head or tail first, the majority were sure that
the cats descended as they were never known
to do. Any one who had ever noticed the
shape of the claws of any beast of prey could
have answered the question without seeing
an actual descent. Farmers' boys who have
often seen cows and horses lie down and rise,
are seldom sure whether the animals rise
with their fore or hind feet first, or whether
the habit of the horse agrees with that of the
cow in this respect. The elm tree has about
its leaf a peculiarity which all ought to notice
the first time they see it, and yet only about
five per cent of a certain school could incorporate
in a drawing this peculiarity, although<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</SPAN></span>
it is so easily outlined on paper. Perception,
to achieve satisfactory results, must summon
the will to its aid to concentrate the attention.
Only the smallest part of what falls upon our
senses at any time is actually perceived."</p>
<p>The way to train the mind to receive clear
sight-impressions, and therefore to retain
them in the memory is simply to concentrate
the will and attention upon objects of sight,
endeavoring to <i>see</i> them plainly and distinctly,
and then to practice recalling the details
of the object some time afterward. It is astonishing
how rapidly one may improve in
this respect by a little practice. And it is
amazing how great a degree of proficiency
in this practice one may attain in a short
time. You have doubtless heard the old story
of Houdin, the French conjurer, who cultivated
his memory of sight impressions by following
a simple plan. He started in to practice
by observing the number of small objects
in the Paris shop windows he could see and
remember in one quick glance as he rapidly
walked past the window. He followed the
plan of noting down on paper the things that
he saw and remembered. At first he could<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</SPAN></span>
remember but two or three articles in the
window. Then he began to see and remember
more, and so on, each day adding to his power
of perception and memory, until finally he
was able to see and remember nearly every
small article in a large shop window, after bestowing
but one glance upon it. Others have
found this plan an excellent one, and have developed
their power of perception greatly,
and at the same time cultivated an amazingly
retentive memory of objects thus seen. It is
all a matter of use and practice. The experiment
of Houdin may be varied infinitely, with
excellent results.</p>
<p>The Hindus train their children along these
lines, by playing the "sight game" with
them. This game is played by exposing to
the sight of the children a number of small
objects, at which they gaze intently, and which
are then withdrawn from their sight. The
children then endeavor to excel each other in
writing down the names of the objects which
they have seen. The number of objects is
small to begin with, but is increased each day,
until an astonishing number are perceived
and remembered.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Rudyard Kipling in his great book, "Kim,"
gives an instance of this game, played by
"Kim" and a trained native youth. Lurgan
Sahib exposes to the sight of the two boys a
tray filled with jewels and gems, allowing
them to gaze upon it a few moments before it
is withdrawn from sight. Then the competition
begins, as follows: "'There are under
that paper five blue stones, one big, one
smaller, and three small,' said Kim in all
haste. There are four green stones, and one
with a hole in it; there is one yellow stone
that I can see through, and one like a pipe
stem. There are two red stones, and—and—give
me time.'" But Kim had reached the
limit of his powers. Then came the turn of
the native boy. "'Hear my count,' cried the
native child. 'First are two flawed sapphires,
one of two ruttes and one of four, as I should
judge. The four rutte sapphire is chipped at
the edge. There is one Turkestan turquoise,
plain with green veins, and there are two inscribed—one
with the name of God in gilt,
and the other being cracked across, for it
came out of an old ring, I cannot read. We
have now the five blue stones; four flamed<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</SPAN></span>
emeralds there are, but one is drilled in two
places, and one is a little carven.' 'Their
weight?' said Lurgan Sahib, impassively.
'Three—five—five and four ruttees, as I judge
it. There is one piece of old greenish amber,
and a cheap cut topaz from Europe. There
is one ruby of Burma, one of two ruttees,
without a flaw. And there is a ballas ruby,
flawed, of two ruttees. There is a carved
ivory from China, representing a rat sucking
an egg; and there is last—Ah—ha!—a ball
of crystal as big as a bean set in gold leaf.'"
Kim is mortified at his bad beating, and asks
the secret. The answer is: "By doing it many
times over, till it is done perfectly, for it is
worth doing."</p>
<p>Many teachers have followed plans similar
to that just related. A number of small articles
are exposed, and the pupils are trained
to see and remember them, the process being
gradually made more and more difficult. A
well known American teacher was in the
habit of rapidly making a number of dots on
the blackboard, and then erasing them before
the pupils could count them in the ordinary
way. The children then endeavored to count<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</SPAN></span>
their mental impressions, and before long
they could correctly name the number up to
ten or more, with ease. They said they could
"see six," or "see ten," as the case may be,
automatically and apparently without the
labor of consciously counting them. It is related
in works dealing with the detection of
crime, that in the celebrated "thieves
schools" in Europe, the young thieves are
trained in a similar way, the old scoundrels
acting as teachers exposing a number of small
articles to the young ones, and requiring them
to repeat exactly what they had seen. Then
follows a higher course in which the young
thieves are required to memorize the objects
in a room; the plan of houses, etc. They are
sent forth to "spy out the land" for future
robberies, in the guise of beggars soliciting
alms, and thus getting a rapid peep into
houses, offices, and stores. It is said that in
a single glance they will perceive the location
of all of the doors, windows, locks, bolts, etc.</p>
<p>Many nations have boys' games in which
the youngsters are required to see and remember
after taking a peep. The Italians
have a game called "Morro" in which one boy<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</SPAN></span>
throws out a number of fingers, which must
be instantly named by the other boy, a failure
resulting in a forfeit. The Chinese
youths have a similar game, while the Japanese
boys reduce this to a science. A well
trained Japanese youth will be able to remember
the entire contents of a room after
one keen glance around it. Many of the Orientals
have developed this faculty to a degree
almost beyond belief. But the principle is
the same in all cases—the gradual practice
and exercise, beginning with a small number
of simple things, and then increasing the
number and complexity of the objects.</p>
<p>The faculty is not so rare as one might
imagine at first thought. Take a man in a
small business, and let him enter the store of
a competitor, and see how many things he
will observe and remember after a few minutes
in the place. Let an actor visit a play in
another theatre, and see how many details of
the performance he will notice and remember.
Let some women pay a visit to a new neighbor,
and then see how many things about that
house they will have seen and remembered
to be retailed to their confidential friends af<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</SPAN></span>terward.
It is the old story of attention
following the interest, and memory following
the attention. An expert whist player will
see and remember every card played in the
game, and just who played it. A chess or
checker player will see and remember the
previous moves in the game, if he be expert,
and can relate them afterward. A woman
will go shopping and will see and remember
thousands of things that a man would never
have seen, much less remembered. As Houdin
said: "Thus, for instance, I can safely
assert that a lady seeing another pass at full
speed in a carriage will have had time to analyze
her toilette from her bonnet to her shoes,
and be able to describe not only the fashion
and quality of the stuffs, but also say if the
lace be real or only machine made. I have
known ladies to do this."</p>
<p>But, remember this—for it is important:
Whatever can be done in this direction by
means of attention, inspired by interest, may
be duplicated by <i>attention directed by will</i>.
In other words, the desire to accomplish the
task adds and creates an artificial interest
just as effective as the natural feeling. And,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</SPAN></span>
as you progress, the interest in the game-task
will add new interest, and you will be
able to duplicate any of the feats mentioned
above. It is all a matter of attention, interest
(natural or induced) and practice. Begin
with a set of dominoes, if you like, and try to
remember the spots on one of them rapidly
glanced at—then two—then three. By increasing
the number gradually, you will attain
a power of perception and a memory of
sight-impressions that will appear almost
marvelous. And not only will you begin to
remember dominoes, but you will also be
able to perceive and remember thousands of
little details of interest, in everything, that
have heretofore escaped your notice. The
principle is very simple, but the results that
may be obtained by practice are wonderful.</p>
<p>The trouble with most of you is that you
have been looking without seeing—gazing but
not observing. The objects around you have
been out of your mental focus. If you will
but change your mental focus, by means of
will and attention, you will be able to cure
yourself of the careless methods of seeing
and observing that have been hindrances to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</SPAN></span>
your success. You have been blaming it on
your memory, but the fault is with your perception.
How can the memory remember,
when it is not given anything in the way of
clear impressions? You have been like young
infants in this matter—now it is time for you
to begin to "sit up and take notice," no matter
how old you may be. The whole thing in a
nut-shell is this: In order to remember the
things that pass before your sight, you must
begin to <i>see with your mind</i>, instead of with
your retina. Let the impression get beyond
your retina and into your mind. If you will
do this, you will find that memory will "do
the rest."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></SPAN>CHAPTER X.</h2>
<p class="chap">TRAINING THE EAR.</p>
<p>The sense of hearing is one of the highest
of the senses or channels whereby we receive
impressions from the outside world. In fact,
it ranks almost as high as the sense of sight.
In the senses of taste, touch, and smell there
is a direct contact between the sensitive recipient
nerve substance and the particles of
the object sensed, while in the sense of sight
and the sense of hearing the impression is received
through the medium of waves in the
ether (in the case of sight), or waves in the
air (in the sense of hearing.) Moreover in
taste, smell and touch the objects sensed are
brought into direct contact with the terminal
nerve apparatus, while in seeing and hearing
the nerves terminate in peculiar and delicate
sacs which contain a fluidic substance through
which the impression is conveyed to the nerve
proper. Loss of this fluidic substance destroys
the faculty to receive impressions, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</SPAN></span>
deafness or blindness ensues. As Foster
says: "Waves of sound falling upon the auditory
nerve itself produces no effect whatever;
it is only when, by the medium of the
endolymph, they are brought to bear on the
delicate and peculiar epithelium cells which
constitute the peripheral terminations of the
nerve, that sensations of sound arise."</p>
<p>Just as it is true that it is the mind and not
the eye that really <i>sees</i>; so is it true that it is
the mind and not the ear that really <i>hears</i>.
Many sounds reach the ear that are not registered
by the mind. We pass along a crowded
street, the waves of many sounds reaching the
nerves of the ear, and yet the mind <i>accepts</i>
the sounds of but few things, particularly
when the novelty of the sounds has passed
away. It is a matter of interest and attention
in this case, as well as in the case of hearing.
As Halleck says: "If we sit by an open
window in the country on a summer day, we
may have many stimuli knocking at the gate
of attention: the ticking of a clock, the sound
of the wind, the cackling of fowl, the quacking
of ducks, the barking of dogs, the lowing of
cows, the cries of children at play, the rust<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</SPAN></span>ling
of leaves, the songs of birds, the rumbling
of wagons, etc. If attention is centered upon
any one of these, that for the time being acquires
the importance of a king upon the
throne of our mental world."</p>
<p>Many persons complain of not being able
to remember sounds, or things reaching the
mind through the sense of hearing, and attribute
the trouble to some defect in the organs
of hearing. But in so doing they overlook the
real cause of the trouble, for it is a scientific
fact that many of such persons are found to
have hearing apparatus perfectly developed
and in the best working order—their trouble
arising from a lack of training of the mental
faculty of hearing. In other words the
trouble is in their mind instead of in the organs
of hearing. To acquire the faculty of
correct hearing, and correct memory of things
heard, the mental faculty of hearing must be
exercised, trained and developed. Given a
number of people whose hearing apparatus
are equally perfect, we will find that some
"hear" much better than others; and some
hear certain things better than they do certain
other things; and that there is a great<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</SPAN></span>
difference in the grades and degrees of memory
of the things heard. As Kay says:
"Great differences exist among individuals
with regard to the acuteness of this sense
(hearing) and some possess it in greater perfection
in certain directions than in others.
One whose hearing is good for sound in general
may yet have but little ear for musical
tones; and, on the other hand, one with a good
ear for music may yet be deficient as regards
hearing in general." The secret of this is to
be found in the degree of interest and attention
bestowed upon the particular thing
giving forth the sound.</p>
<p>It is a fact that the mind will hear the faintest
sounds from things in which is centered
interest and attention, while at the same time
ignoring things in which there is no interest
and to which the attention is not turned. A
sleeping mother will awaken at the slightest
whimper from her babe, while the rumbling
of a heavy wagon on the street, or even the
discharge of a gun in the neighborhood may
not be noticed by her. An engineer will detect
the slightest difference in the whir or
hum of his engine, while failing to notice a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</SPAN></span>
very loud noise outside. A musician will note
the slightest discord occurring in a concert
in which there are a great number of instruments
being played, and in which there is a
great volume of sound reaching the ear,
while other sounds may be unheard by him.
The man who taps the wheels of your railroad
car is able to detect the slightest difference
in tone, and is thus informed that there
is a crack or flaw in the wheel. One who
handles large quantities of coin will have his
attention drawn to the slightest difference in
the "ring" of a piece of gold or silver, that
informs him that there is something wrong
with the coin. A train engineer will distinguish
the strange whir of something wrong
with the train behind him, amidst all the
thundering rattle and roar in which it is
merged. The foreman in a machine shop in
the same manner detects the little strange
noise that informs him that something is
amiss, and he rings off the power at once.
Telegraphers are able to detect the almost imperceptible
differences in the sound of their
instruments that inform them that a new operator
is on the wire; or just who is sending<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</SPAN></span>
the message; and, in some cases, the mood or
temper of the person transmitting it. Trainmen
and steamboat men recognize the differences
between every engine or boat on their
line, or river, as the case may be. A skilled
physician will detect the faint sounds denoting
a respiratory trouble or a "heart murmur"
in the patients. And yet these very
people who are able to detect the faint differences
in sound, above mentioned, are often
known as "poor hearers" in other things.
Why? Simply because they hear only that in
which they are interested, and to which their
attention has been directed. That is the
whole secret, and in it is also to be found the
secret of training of the ear-perception. It
is all a matter of interest and attention—the
details depend upon these principles.</p>
<p>In view of the facts just stated, it will be
seen that the remedy for "poor hearing," and
poor memory of things heard is to be found in
the use of the will in the direction of voluntary
attention and interest. So true is this
that some authorities go so far as to claim
that many cases of supposed slight deafness
are really but the result of lack of attention<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</SPAN></span>
and concentration on the part of the person
so troubled. Kay says: "What is commonly
called deafness is not infrequently to be attributed
to this cause—the sounds being heard
but not being interpreted or recognized
... sounds may be distinctly heard when
the attention is directed toward them, that in
ordinary circumstances would be imperceptible;
and people often fail to hear what is
said to them because they are not paying attention."
Harvey says: "That one-half of the
deafness that exists is the result of inattention
cannot be doubted." There are but few
persons who have not had the experience of
listening to some bore, whose words were distinctly
heard but the meaning of which was
entirely lost because of inattention and lack of
interest. Kirkes sums the matter up in these
words: "In hearing we must distinguish two
different points—the audible sensation as it is
developed without any intellectual interference,
and the conception which we form in
consequence of that sensation."</p>
<p>The reason that many persons do not remember
things that they have heard is simply
because they have not <i>listened</i> properly. Poor<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</SPAN></span>
listening is far more common than one would
suppose at first. A little self-examination
will reveal to you the fact that you have fallen
into the bad habit of inattention. One cannot
listen to everything, of course—it would not
be advisable. But one should acquire the
habit of either really listening or else refusing
to listen at all. The compromise of careless
listening brings about deplorable results,
and is really the reason why so many people
"can't remember" what they have heard. It
is all a matter of habit. Persons who have
poor memories of ear-impressions should begin
to "listen" in earnest. In order to reacquire
their lost habit of proper listening,
they must exercise voluntary attention and
develop interest. The following suggestions
may be useful in that direction.</p>
<p>Try to memorize words that are spoken to
you in conversation—a few sentences, or even
one, at a time. You will find that the effort
made to fasten the sentence on your memory
will result in a concentration of the attention
on the words of the speaker. Do the same
thing when you are listening to a preacher,
actor or lecturer. Pick out the first sentence<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</SPAN></span>
for memorizing, and make up your mind that
your memory will be as wax to receive the impression
and as steel to retain it. Listen to
the stray scraps of conversation that come
to your ears while walking on the street, and
endeavor to memorize a sentence or two, as
if you were to repeat it later in the day.
Study the various tones, expressions and inflections
in the voices of persons speaking to
you—you will find this most interesting and
helpful. You will be surprised at the details
that such analysis will reveal. Listen to the
footsteps of different persons and endeavor
to distinguish between them—each has its
peculiarities. Get some one to read a line or
two of poetry or prose to you, and then endeavor
to remember it. A little practice of
this kind will greatly develop the power of
voluntary attention to sounds and spoken
words. But above everything else, practice
repeating the words and sounds that you have
memorized, so far as is possible—for by so
doing you will get the mind into the habit of
taking an interest in sound impressions. In
this way you not only improve the sense of
hearing, but also the faculty of remembering.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>If you will analyze, and boil down the above
remarks and directions, you will find that the
gist of the whole matter is that one should
<i>actually use, employ and exercise</i> the mental
faculty of hearing, actively and intelligently.
Nature has a way of putting to sleep, or
atrophying any faculty that is not used or
exercised; and also of encouraging, developing
and strengthening any faculty that is
properly employed and exercised. In this
you have the secret. Use it. If you will listen
well, you will hear well and remember well
that which you have heard.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
<p class="chap">HOW TO REMEMBER NAMES.</p>
<p>The phase of memory connected with the
remembrance or recollection of names probably
is of greater interest to the majority of
persons than are any of the associated phases
of the subject. On all hands are to be found
people who are embarassed by their failure
to recall the name of some one whom they feel
they know, but whose name has escaped them.
This failure to remember the names of persons
undoubtedly interferes with the business
and professional success of many persons;
and, on the other hand, the ability to recall
names readily has aided many persons in the
struggle for success. It would seem that there
are a greater number of persons deficient in
this phase of memory than in any other. As
Holbrook has said: "The memory of names is
a subject with which most persons must have
a more than passing interest.... The
number of persons who never or rarely forget<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</SPAN></span>
a name is exceedingly small, the number of
those who have a poor memory for them is
very large. The reason for this is partly a defect
of mental development and partly a matter
of habit. In either case it may be overcome
by effort.... I have satisfied myself
by experience and observation that a memory
for names may be increased not only two, <i>but
a hundredfold</i>."</p>
<p>You will find that the majority of successful
men have been able to recall the faces and
names of those with whom they came in contact,
and it is an interesting subject for speculation
as to just how much of their success
was due to this faculty. Socrates is said to
have easily remembered the names of all of
his students, and his classes numbered thousands
in the course of a year. Xenophon is
said to have known the name of every one of
his soldiers, which faculty was shared by
Washington and Napoleon, also. Trajan is
said to have known the names of all the Praetorian
Guards, numbering about 12,000. Pericles
knew the face and name of every one
of the citizens of Athens. Cineas is said to
have known the names of all the citizens of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</SPAN></span>
Rome. Themistocles knew the names of 20,000
Athenians. Lucius Scipio could call by
name every citizen of Rome. John Wesley
could recall the names of thousands of persons
whom he had met in his travels. Henry
Clay was specially developed in this phase of
memory, and there was a tradition among his
followers that he remembered every one
whom he met. Blaine had a similar reputation.</p>
<p>There have been many theories advanced,
and explanations offered to account for the
fact that the recollection of names is far more
difficult than any other form of the activities
of the memory. We shall not take up your
time in going over these theories, but shall
proceed upon the theory now generally accepted
by the best authorities; i.e. that the
difficulty in the recollection of names is caused
by the fact that names in themselves are <i>uninteresting</i>
and therefore do not attract or
hold the attention as do other objects presented
to the mind. There is of course to be
remembered the fact that sound impressions
are apt to be more difficult of recollection than
sight impressions, but the lack of interesting<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</SPAN></span>
qualities in names is believed to be the principal
obstacle and difficulty. Fuller says of this
matter: "A proper noun, or name, when considered
independently of accidental features
of coincidence with something that is familiar,
<i>doesn't mean anything</i>; for this reason
a mental picture of it is not easily formed,
which accounts for the fact that the primitive,
tedious way of rote, or repetition, is that
ordinarily employed to impress a proper
noun on the memory, while a common noun,
being represented by some object having
shape, or appearance, in the physical or mental
perception, can thus be <i>seen or imagined</i>:
in other words <i>a mental image</i> of it can be
formed and the <i>name</i> identified afterwards,
through associating it with this mental image."
We think that the case is fully stated
in this quotation.</p>
<p>But in spite of this difficulty, persons have
and can greatly improve their memory of
names. Many who were originally very deficient
in this respect have not only improved
the faculty far beyond its former condition,
but have also developed exceptional ability
in this special phase of memory so that they<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</SPAN></span>
became noted for their unfailing recollection
of the names of those with whom they came in
contact.</p>
<p>Perhaps the best way to impress upon you
the various methods that may be used for this
purpose would be to relate to you the actual
experience of a gentleman employed in a
bank in one of the large cities of this country,
who made a close study of the subject and
developed himself far beyond the ordinary.
Starting with a remarkably poor memory for
names, he is now known to his associates as
"the man who never forgets a name." This
gentleman first took a number of "courses"
in secret "methods" of developing the memory;
but after thus spending much money he
expressed his disgust with the whole idea of
artificial memory training. He then started
in to study the subject from the point-of-view
of The New Psychology, putting into effect
all of the tested principles, and improving
upon some of their details. We have had a
number of conversations with this gentleman,
and have found that his experience confirms
many of our own ideas and theories, and the
fact that he has demonstrated the correctness<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</SPAN></span>
of the principles to such a remarkable degree
renders his case one worthy of being stated in
the direction of affording a guide and
"method" for others who wish to develop
their memory of names.</p>
<p>The gentleman, whom we shall call "Mr.
X.," decided that the first thing for him to do
was to develop his faculty of receiving clear
and distinct sound impressions. In doing this
he followed the plan outlined by us in our
chapter on "Training the Ear." He persevered
and practiced along these lines until
his "hearing" became very acute. He made
a study of voices, until he could classify them
and analyze their characteristics. Then he
found that he could <i>hear</i> names in a manner
before impossible to him. That is, instead of
merely catching a vague sound of a name,
he would hear it so clearly and distinctly that
a firm registration would be obtained on the
records of his memory. For the first time in
his life names began to <i>mean something</i> to
him. He paid attention to every name he
heard, just as he did to every note he handled.
He would repeat a name to himself, after
hearing it, and would thus strengthen the im<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</SPAN></span>pression.
If he came across an unusual
name, he would write it down several times,
at the first opportunity, thus obtaining the
benefit of a double sense impression, adding
eye impression to ear impression. All this,
of course, aroused his interest in the subject
of names in general, which led him to the next
step in his progress.</p>
<p>Mr. X. then began to study names, their
origin, their peculiarities, their differences,
points of resemblances, etc. He made a hobby
of names, and evinced all the joy of a collector
when he was able to stick the pin of attention
through the specimen of a new and unfamiliar
species of name. He began to collect
names, just as others collect beetles, stamps,
coins, etc., and took quite a pride in his collection
and in his knowledge of the subject.
He read books on names, from the libraries,
giving their origin, etc. He had the Dickens'
delight in "queer" names, and would amuse
his friends by relating the funny names he
had seen on signs, and otherwise. He took a
small City Directory home with him, and
would run over the pages in the evening,
looking up new names, and classifying old<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</SPAN></span>
ones into groups. He found that some names
were derived from animals, and put these into
a class by themselves—the Lyons, Wolfs,
Foxes, Lambs, Hares, etc. Others were put
into the color group—Blacks, Greens, Whites,
Greys, Blues, etc. Others belonged to the
bird family—Crows, Hawks, Birds, Drakes,
Cranes, Doves, Jays, etc. Others belonged
to trades—Millers, Smiths, Coopers, Maltsters,
Carpenters, Bakers, Painters, etc. Others
were trees—Chestnuts, Oakleys, Walnuts,
Cherrys, Pines, etc. Then there were Hills
and Dales; Fields and Mountains; Lanes and
Brooks. Some were Strong; others were
Gay; others were Savage; others Noble. And
so on. It would take a whole book to tell you
what that man found out about names. He
came near becoming a "crank" on the subject.
But his hobby began to manifest excellent
results, for his <i>interest</i> had been awakened
to an unusual degree, and he was becoming
very proficient in his recollection of
names, for they now meant something to him.
He easily recalled all the regular customers
at his bank,—quite a number by the way for
the bank was a large one—and many occasion<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</SPAN></span>al
depositors were delighted to have themselves
called by name by our friend. Occasionally
he would meet with a name that
balked him, in which case he would repeat it
over to himself, and write it a number of
times until he had mastered it—after that it
never escaped him.</p>
<p>Mr. X. would always repeat a name when
it was spoken, and would at the same time
look intently at the person bearing it, thus
seeming to fix the two together in his mind
at the same time—when he wanted them they
would be found in each other's company. He
also acquired the habit of <i>visualizing</i> the name—that
is, he would see its letters in his mind's
eye, as a picture. This he regarded as a
most important point, and we thoroughly
agree with him. He used the Law of Association
in the direction of associating a new man
with a well-remembered man of the same
name. A new Mr. Schmidtzenberger would
be associated with an old customer of the same
name—when he would see the new man, he
would think of the old one, and the name
would flash into his mind. To sum up the
whole method, however, it may be said that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</SPAN></span>
the gist of the thing was in <i>taking an interest</i>
in names in general. In this way an uninteresting
subject was made interesting—and a
man always has a good memory for the things
in which he is interested.</p>
<p>The case of Mr. X. is an extreme one—and
the results obtained were beyond the ordinary.
But if you will take a leaf from his
book, you may obtain the same results in the
degree that you work for it. Make a study
of names—start a collection—and you will
have no trouble in developing a memory for
them. This is the whole thing in a nut-shell.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
<p class="chap">HOW TO REMEMBER FACES.</p>
<p>The memory of faces is closely connected
with the memory of names, and yet the two
are not always associated, for there are many
people who easily remember faces, and yet
forget names, and vice versa. In some ways,
however, the memory of faces is a necessary
precedent for the recollection of the names of
people. For unless we recall the face, we are
unable to make the necessary association with
the name of the person. We have given a
number of instances of face-memory, in our
chapter on name-memory, in which are given
instances of the wonderful memory of celebrated
individuals who acquired a knowledge
and memory of the thousands of citizens of a
town, or city, or the soldiers of an army. In
this chapter, however, we shall pay attention
only to the subject of the recollection of the
features of persons, irrespective of their
names. This faculty is possessed by all per<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</SPAN></span>sons,
but in varying degrees. Those in whom
it is well developed seem to recognize the
faces of persons whom they have met years
before, and to associate them with the
circumstances in which they last met them, even
where the name escapes the memory. Others
seem to forget a face the moment it passes
from view, and fail to recognize the same persons
whom they met only a few hours before,
much to their mortification and chagrin.</p>
<p>Detectives, newspaper reporters, and others
who come in contact with many people, usually
have this faculty largely developed, for it
becomes a necessity of their work, and their
interest and attention is rendered active
thereby. Public men often have this faculty
largely developed by reason of the necessities
of their life. It is said that James G. Blaine
never forgot the face of anyone whom he had
met and conversed with a few moments. This
faculty rendered him very popular in political
life. In this respect he resembled Henry
Clay, who was noted for his memory of faces.
It is related of Clay that he once paid a visit
of a few hours to a small town in Mississippi,
on an electioneering tour. Amidst the throng<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</SPAN></span>
surrounding him was an old man, with one eye
missing. The old fellow pressed forward crying
out that he was sure that Henry Clay
would remember him. Clay took a sharp look
at him and said: "I met you in Kentucky
many years ago, did I not?" "Yes," replied
the man. "Did you lose your eye since
then?" asked Clay. "Yes, several years
after," replied the old man. "Turn your
face side-ways, so that I can see your profile,"
said Clay. The man did so. Then Clay
smiled, triumphantly, saying: "I've got you
now—weren't you on that jury in the Innes
case at Frankfort, that I tried in the United
States Court over twenty years ago?" "Yes
siree!" said the man, "I knowed that ye
know me, 'n I told 'em you would." And the
crowd gave a whoop, and Clay knew that he
was safe in that town and county.</p>
<p>Vidocq, the celebrated French detective, is
said to have never forgotten a face of a criminal
whom he had once seen. A celebrated instance
of this power on his part is that of
the case of Delafranche the forger who escaped
from prison and dwelt in foreign lands
for over twenty years. After that time he re<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</SPAN></span>turned
to Paris feeling secure from detection,
having become bald, losing an eye, and having
his nose badly mutilated. Moreover he disguised
himself and wore a beard, in order to
still further evade detection. One day Vidocq
met him on the street, and recognized him at
once, his arrest and return to prison following.
Instances of this kind could be multiplied
indefinitely, but the student will have
had a sufficient acquaintance with persons
who possess this faculty developed to a large
degree, so that further illustration is scarcely
necessary.</p>
<p>The way to develop this phase of memory
is akin to that urged in the development of
other phases—the cultivation of interest, and
the bestowal of attention. Faces as a whole
are not apt to prove interesting. It is only by
analyzing and classifying them that the study
begins to grow of interest to us. The study
of a good elementary work on physiognomy
is recommended to those wishing to develop
the faculty of remembering faces, for in such
a work the student is led to notice the different
kinds of noses, ears, eyes, chins, foreheads,
etc., such notice and recognition tend<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</SPAN></span>ing
to induce an interest in the subject of
features. A rudimentary course of study in
drawing faces, particularly in profile, will
also tend to make one "take notice" and will
awaken interest. If you are required to draw
a nose, particularly from memory, you will be
apt to give to it your interested attention.
The matter of interest is vital. If you were
shown a man and told that the next time you
met and recognized him he would hand you
over $500, you would be very apt to study
his face carefully, and to recognize him later
on; whereas the same man if introduced casually
as a "Mr. Jones," would arouse no interest
and the chances of recognition would
be slim.</p>
<p>Halleck says: "Every time we enter a
street car we see different types of people,
and there is a great deal to be noticed about
each type. Every human countenance shows
its past history to one who knows how to look....
Successful gamblers often become so
expert in noticing the slightest change of an
opponent's facial expression that they will
estimate the strength of his hand by the involuntary
signs which appear in the face and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</SPAN></span>
which are frequently checked the instant they
appear."</p>
<p>Of all classes, perhaps artists are more apt
to form a clear cut image of the features of
persons whom they meet—particularly if they
are portrait painters. There are instances of
celebrated portrait painters who were able to
execute a good portrait after having once
carefully studied the face of the sitter, their
memory enabling them to visualize the features
at will. Some celebrated teachers of
drawing have instructed their scholars to take
a sharp hasty glance at a nose, an eye, an ear,
or chin, and then to so clearly visualize it that
they could draw it perfectly. It is all a matter
of interest, attention, <i>and practice</i>. Sir
Francis Galton cites the instance of a French
teacher who trained his pupils so thoroughly
in this direction that after a few months'
practice they had no difficulty in summoning
images at will; in holding them steady; and in
drawing them correctly. He says of the faculty
of visualization thus used: "A faculty
that is of importance in all technical and artistic
occupations, that gives accuracy to our
perceptions, and justice to our generaliza<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</SPAN></span>tions,
is starved by lazy disuse, instead of being
cultivated judiciously in such a way as
will, on the whole, bring the best return. I
believe that a serious study of the best means
of developing and utilizing this faculty, without
prejudice to the practice of abstract
thought in symbols, is one of the many pressing
desiderata in the yet unformed science
of education."</p>
<p>Fuller relates the method of a celebrated
painter, which method has been since taught
by many teachers of both drawing and memory.
He relates it as follows: "The celebrated
painter Leonardo da Vinci invented a
most ingenious method for identifying faces,
and by it is said to have been able to reproduce
from memory any face that he had once
carefully scrutinized. He drew all the possible
forms of the nose, mouth, chin, eyes,
ears and forehead, numbered them 1, 2, 3, 4,
etc., and committed them thoroughly to memory;
then, whenever he saw a face that he
wished to draw or paint from memory, he
noted in his mind that it was chin 4, eyes 2,
nose 5, ears 6,—or whatever the combinations
might be—and by retaining the analysis in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</SPAN></span>
his memory he could reconstruct the face at
any time." We could scarcely ask the student
to attempt so complicated a system, and
yet a modification of it would prove useful.
That is, if you would begin to form a classification
of several kind of noses, say about
seven, the well-known Roman, Jewish, Grecian,
giving you the general classes, in connection
with straight, crooked, pug and all
the other varieties, you would soon recognize
noses when you saw them. And the same with
mouths, a few classes being found to cover
the majority of cases. But of all the features,
the eye is the most expressive, and the one
most easily remembered, when clearly noticed.
Detectives rely much upon <i>the expression of
the eye</i>. If you ever fully catch the <i>expression</i>
of a person's eye, you will be very apt to
recognize it thereafter. Therefore concentrate
on eyes in studying faces.</p>
<p>A good plan in developing this faculty is to
visualize the faces of persons you have met
during the day, in the evening. Try to develop
the faculty of visualizing the features
of those whom you know—this will start you
off right. Draw them in your mind—see<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</SPAN></span>
them with your mind's eye, until you can visualize
the features of very old friends; then
do the same with acquaintances, and so on,
until you are able to visualize the features of
every one you "know." Then start on to add
to your list by recalling in the imagination,
the features of strangers whom you meet. By
a little practice of this kind you will develop
a great interest in faces and your memory of
them, and the power to recall them will increase
rapidly. The secret is to study faces—to
be interested in them. In this way you
add zest to the task, and make a pleasure of a
drudgery. The study of photographs is also
a great aid in this work—but study them in
detail, not as a whole. If you can arouse
sufficient interest in features and faces, you
will have no trouble in remembering and recalling
them. The two things go together.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
<p class="chap">HOW TO REMEMBER PLACES.</p>
<p>There is a great difference in the various
degrees of development of "the sense of locality"
in different persons. But these differences
may be traced directly to the degree of
memory of that particular phase or faculty
of the mind, which in turn depends upon the
degree of attention, interest, and use which
has been bestowed upon the faculty in question.
The authorities on phrenology define
the faculty of "locality" as follows: "Cognizance
of place; recollection of the looks of
places, roads, scenery, and the location of objects;
where on a page ideas are to be found,
and position generally; the geographical faculty;
the desire to see places, and have the
ability to find them." Persons in whom this
faculty is developed to the highest degree
seem to have an almost intuitive idea of direction,
place and position. They never get
lost or "mixed up" regarding direction or<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</SPAN></span>
place. They remember the places they visit
and their relation in space to each other.
Their minds are like maps upon which are
engraved the various roads, streets and objects
of sight in every direction. When these
people think of China, Labrador, Terra del
Fuego, Norway, Cape of Good Hope, Thibet,
or any other place, they seem to think of it in
"<i>this</i> direction or <i>that</i> direction" rather than
as a vague place situated in a vague direction.
Their minds think "north, south, east or
west" as the case may be when they consider
a given place. Shading down by degrees we
find people at the other pole of the faculty
who seem to find it impossible to remember
any direction, or locality or relation in space.
Such people are constantly losing themselves
in their own towns, and fear to trust themselves
in a strange place. They have no sense
of direction, or place, and fail to recognize a
street or scene which they have visited recently,
not to speak of those which they traveled
over in time past. Between these two
poles or degrees there is a vast difference,
and it is difficult to realize that it is all a matter
of use, interest and attention. That it is<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</SPAN></span>
but this may be proven by anyone who will
take the trouble and pains to develop the
faculty and memory of locality within his
mind. Many have done this, and anyone else
may do likewise if the proper methods be employed.</p>
<p>The secret of the development of the faculty
and memory of place and locality is akin to
that mentioned in the preceding chapter, in
connection with the development of the memory
for names. The first thing necessary is
to develop an <i>interest</i> in the subject. One
should begin to "take notice" of the direction
of the streets or roads over which he travels;
the landmarks; the turns of the road; the
natural objects along the way. He should
study maps, until he awakens a new interest
in them, just as did the man who used the
directory in order to take an interest in
names. He should procure a small geography
and study direction, distances, location, shape
and form of countries, etc., not as a mere mechanical
thing but as a live subject of interest.
If there were a large sum of money awaiting
your coming in certain sections of the globe,
you would manifest a decided interest in the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</SPAN></span>
direction, locality and position of those places,
and the best way to reach them. Before long
you would be a veritable reference book regarding
those special places. Or, if your
sweetheart were waiting for you in some such
place, you would do likewise. The whole
thing lies in the degree of "want to" regarding
the matter. Desire awakens interest; interest
employs attention; and attention
brings use, development and memory. Therefore
you must first <i>want to</i> develop the faculty
of Locality—and want to "hard
enough." The rest is a mere matter of detail.</p>
<p>One of the first things to do, after arousing
an interest, is to carefully note the landmarks
and relative positions of the streets or roads
over which you travel. So many people travel
along a new street or road in an absent-minded
manner, taking no notice of the lay
of the land as they proceed. This is fatal to
place-memory. You must take notice of the
thoroughfares and the things along the way.
Pause at the cross roads, or the street-corners
and note the landmarks, and the general
directions and relative positions, until they
are firmly imprinted on your mind. Begin to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</SPAN></span>
see how many things you can remember regarding
even a little exercise walk. And
when you have returned home, go over the
trip in your mind, and see how much of the
direction and how many of the landmarks you
are able to remember. Take out your pencil,
and endeavor to <i>make a map</i> of your route,
giving the general directions, and noting the
street names, and principal objects of interest.
Fix the idea of "North" in your mind
when starting, and keep your bearings by it
during your whole trip, and in your map
making. You will be surprised how much
interest you will soon develop in this map-making.
It will get to be quite a game, and
you will experience pleasure in your increasing
proficiency in it. When you go out for a
walk, go in a round-about way, taking as
many turns and twists as possible, in order
to exercise your faculty of locality and direction—but
always note carefully direction and
general course, so that you may reproduce it
correctly on your map when you return. If
you have a city map, compare it with your
own little map, and also re-trace your route,
in imagination, on the map. With a city map,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</SPAN></span>
or road-map, you may get lots of amusement
by re-traveling the route of your little journeys.</p>
<p>Always note the names of the various
streets over which you travel, as well as those
which you cross during your walk. Note them
down upon your map, and you will find that
you will develop a rapidly improving memory
in this direction—because you have awakened
interest and bestowed attention. Take
a pride in your map making. If you have a
companion, endeavor to beat each other at
this game—both traveling over the same route
together, and then seeing which one can remember
the greatest number of details of the
journey.</p>
<p>Akin to this, and supplementary to it, is
the plan of selecting a route to be traveled,
on your city map, endeavoring to fix in
your mind the general directions, names
of streets, turns, return journey, etc.,
before you start. Begin by mapping out a
short trip in this way, and then increase it
every day. After mapping out a trip, lay
aside your map and travel it in person. If
you like, take along the map and puzzle out<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</SPAN></span>
variations, from time to time. Get the map
habit in every possible variation and form,
but do not depend upon the map exclusively;
but instead, endeavor to correlate the printed
map with the mental map that you are building
in your brain.</p>
<p>If you are about to take a journey to a
strange place, study your maps carefully before
you go, and exercise your memory in
reproducing them with a pencil. Then as you
travel along, compare places with your map,
and you will find that you will take an entirely
new interest in the trip—it will begin
by meaning something to you. If about to
visit a strange city, procure a map of it before
starting, and begin by noting the cardinal
points of the compass, study the map—the
directions of the principal streets and the
relative positions of the principal points of
interest, buildings, etc. In this way you not
only develop your memory of places, and
render yourself proof against being lost, but
you also provide a source of new and great
interest in your visit.</p>
<p>The above suggestions are capable of the
greatest expansion and variation on the part<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</SPAN></span>
of anyone who practices them. The whole
thing depends upon the "taking notice" and
using the attention, and those things in turn
depend upon the taking of interest in the subject.
If anyone will "wake up and take interest"
in the subject of locality and direction
he may develop himself along the lines of
place-memory to an almost incredible degree,
in a comparatively short time at that. There
is no other phase of memory that so quickly
responds to use and exercise as this one. We
have in mind a lady who was notoriously deficient
in the memory of place, and was sure to
lose herself a few blocks from her stopping
place, wherever she might be. She seemed
absolutely devoid of the sense of direction or
locality and often lost herself in the hotel
corridors, notwithstanding the fact that she
traveled all over the world, with her husband,
for years. The trouble undoubtedly arose
from the fact that she depended altogether
upon her husband as a pilot, the couple being
inseparable. Well, the husband died, and the
lady lost her pilot. Instead of giving up in
despair, she began to rise to the occasion—having
no pilot, she had to pilot herself. And<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</SPAN></span>
she was forced to "wake up and take notice."
She was compelled to travel for a couple of
years, in order to close up certain business
matters of her husband's—for she was a good
business woman in spite of her lack of development
along this one line—and in order
to get around safely, she was forced to take
an interest in where she was going. Before
the two years' travels were over, she was as
good a traveler as her husband had ever been,
and was frequently called upon as a guide by
others in whose company she chanced to be.
She explained it by saying "Why, I don't
know just how I did it—I just <i>had to</i>, that's
all—I just <i>did</i> it." Another example of a
woman's "because," you see. What this good
lady "just did," was accomplished by an
instinctive following of the plan which we
have suggested to you. She "just <i>had</i> to"
use maps and to "take notice." That is the
whole story.</p>
<p>So true are the principles underlying this
method of developing the place-memory, that
one deficient in it, providing he will arouse
intense interest and will stick to it, may develop
the faculty to such an extent that he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</SPAN></span>
may almost rival the cat which "always came
back," or the dog which "you couldn't lose."
The Indians, Arabs, Gypsies and other people
of the plain, forest, desert, and mountains,
have this faculty so highly developed that it
seems almost like an extra sense. It is all
this matter of "taking notice" sharpened by
continuous need, use and exercise, to a high
degree. The mind will respond to the need
if the person like the lady, "just <i>has to</i>."
The laws of Attention and Association will
work wonders when actively called into play
by Interest or need, followed by exercise and
use. There is no magic in the process—just
"want to" and "keep at it," that's all. Do
you want to hard enough—have you the determination
to keep at it?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
<p class="chap">HOW TO REMEMBER NUMBERS.</p>
<p>The faculty of Number—that is the faculty
of knowing, recognizing and remembering figures
in the abstract and in their relation to
each other, differs very materially among different
individuals. To some, figures and
numbers are apprehended and remembered
with ease, while to others they possess no interest,
attraction or affinity, and consequently
are not apt to be remembered. It is generally
admitted by the best authorities that the
memorizing of dates, figures, numbers, etc.,
is the most difficult of any of the phases of
memory. But all agree that the faculty may
be developed by practice and interest. There
have been instances of persons having this
faculty of the mind developed to a degree
almost incredible; and other instances of persons
having started with an aversion to figures
and then developing an interest which<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</SPAN></span>
resulted in their acquiring a remarkable degree
of proficiency along these lines.</p>
<p>Many of the celebrated mathematicians and
astronomers developed wonderful memories
for figures. Herschel is said to have been
able to remember all the details of intricate
calculations in his astronomical computations,
even to the figures of the fractions.
It is said that he was able to perform the most
intricate calculations mentally, without the
use of pen or pencil, and then dictated to his
assistant the entire details of the process, including
the final results. Tycho Brahe, the
astronomer, also possessed a similar memory.
It is said that he rebelled at being compelled
to refer to the printed tables of square roots
and cube roots, and set to work to memorize
the entire set of tables, which almost incredible
task he accomplished in a half day—this
required the memorizing of over 75,000 figures,
and their relations to each other. Euler
the mathematician became blind in his old
age, and being unable to refer to his tables,
memorized them. It is said that he was able
to repeat from recollection the first six powers
of all the numbers from one to one hundred.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Wallis the mathematician was a prodigy
in this respect. He is reported to have been
able to mentally extract the square root of a
number to forty decimal places, and on one
occasion mentally extracted the cube root of
a number consisting of thirty figures. Dase
is said to have mentally multiplied two numbers
of one hundred figures each. A youth
named Mangiamele was able to perform the
most remarkable feats in mental arithmetic.
The reports show that upon a celebrated test
before members of the French Academy of
Sciences he was able to extract the cube root
of 3,796,416 in thirty seconds; and the tenth
root of 282,475,289 in three minutes. He also
immediately solved the following question put
to him by Arago: "What number has the
following proportion: That if five times the
number be subtracted from the cube plus
five times the square of the number, and nine
times the square of the number be subtracted
from that result, the remainder will be 0?"
The answer, "5" was given immediately,
without putting down a figure on paper or
board. It is related that a cashier of a Chicago
bank was able to mentally restore the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</SPAN></span>
accounts of the bank, which had been destroyed
in the great fire in that city, and his
account which was accepted by the bank and
the depositors, was found to agree perfectly
with the other memoranda in the case, the
work performed by him being solely the work
of his memory.</p>
<p>Bidder was able to tell instantly the number
of farthings in the sum of £868, 42s, 121d.
Buxton mentally calculated the number of
cubical eighths of an inch there were in a
quadrangular mass 23,145,789 yards long, 2,642,732
yards wide and 54,965 yards in thickness.
He also figured out mentally, the
dimensions of an irregular estate of about a
thousand acres, giving the contents in acres
and perches, then reducing them to square
inches, and then reducing them to square hair-breadths,
estimating 2,304 to the square inch,
48 to each side. The mathematical prodigy,
Zerah Colburn, was perhaps the most remarkable
of any of these remarkable people.
When a mere child, he began to develop the
most amazing qualities of mind regarding figures.
He was able to instantly make the mental
calculation of the exact number of seconds<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</SPAN></span>
or minutes there was in a given time. On one
occasion he calculated the number of minutes
and seconds contained in forty-eight years,
the answer: "25,228,800 minutes, and 1,513,728,000
seconds," being given almost instantaneously.
He could instantly multiply any
number of one to three figures, by another
number consisting of the same number of
figures; the factors of any number consisting
of six or seven figures; the square, and cube
roots, and the prime numbers of any numbers
given him. He mentally raised the number
8, progressively, to its sixteenth power, the
result being 281,474,976,710,656; and gave
the square root of 106,929, which was 5. He
mentally extracted the cube root of 268,336,125;
and the squares of 244,999,755 and 1,224,998,755.
In five seconds he calculated the
cube root of 413,993,348,677. He found the
factors of 4,294,967,297, which had previously
been considered to be a prime number. He
mentally calculated the square of 999,999,
which is 999,998,000,001 and then multiplied
that number by 49, and the product by the
same number, and the whole by 25—the latter
as extra measure.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The great difficulty in remembering numbers,
to the majority of persons, is the fact
that numbers "do not mean anything to
them"—that is, that numbers are thought of
only in their abstract phase and nature, and
are consequently far more difficult to remember
than are impressions received from the
senses of sight or sound. The remedy, however,
becomes apparent when we recognize the
source of the difficulty. The remedy is:
<i>Make the number the subject of sound and
sight impressions.</i> Attach the abstract idea
of the numbers to the sense of impressions of
sight or sound, or both, according to which
are the best developed in your particular case.
It may be difficult for you to remember
"1848" as an abstract thing, but comparatively
easy for you to remember the <i>sound</i> of
"eighteen forty-eight," or the <i>shape and appearance</i>
of "1848." If you will repeat a
number to yourself, so that you grasp the
sound impression of it, or else visualize it so
that you can remember having <i>seen</i> it—then
you will be far more apt to remember it than
if you merely think of it without reference
to sound or form. You may forget that the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</SPAN></span>
number of a certain store or house is 3948,
but you may easily remember the sound of
the spoken words "thirty-nine forty-eight,"
or the form of "3948" as it appeared to your
sight on the door of the place. In the latter
case, you associate the number with the door
and when you visualize the door you visualize
the number.</p>
<p>Kay, speaking of visualization, or the reproduction
of mental images of things to be
remembered, says: "Those who have been
distinguished for their power to carry out
long and intricate processes of mental calculation
owe it to the same cause." Taine says:
"Children accustomed to calculate in their
heads write mentally with chalk on an imaginary
board the figures in question, then all
their partial operations, then the final sum, so
that they see internally the different lines of
white figures with which they are concerned.
Young Colburn, who had never been at school
and did not know how to read or write, said
that, when making his calculations 'he saw
them clearly before him.' Another said that he
'saw the numbers he was working with as if
they had been written on a slate.'" Bidder<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</SPAN></span>
said: "If I perform a sum mentally, it always
proceeds in a visible form in my mind; indeed,
I can conceive of no other way possible
of doing mental arithmetic."</p>
<p>We have known office boys who could never
remember the number of an address until it
were distinctly repeated to them several
times—then they memorized the <i>sound</i> and
never forget it. Others forget the sounds, or
failed to register them in the mind, but after
once seeing the number on the door of an
office or store, could repeat it at a moments
notice, saying that they mentally "could see
the figures on the door." You will find by a
little questioning that the majority of people
remember figures or numbers in this way, and
that very few can remember them as abstract
things. For that matter it is difficult for the
majority of persons to even think of a number,
abstractly. Try it yourself, and ascertain
whether you do not remember the number
as either a <i>sound of words</i>, or else as the
mental image or visualization of the <i>form of
the figures</i>. And, by the way, which ever it
happens to be, sight or sound, that particular
kind of remembrance is <i>your</i> best way of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</SPAN></span>
remembering numbers, and consequently
gives you the lines upon which you should
proceed to develop this phase of memory.</p>
<p>The law of Association may be used advantageously
in memorizing numbers; for instance
we know of a person who remembered
the number 186,000 (the number of miles per
second traveled by light-waves in the ether)
by associating it with the number of his
father's former place of business, "186."
Another remembered his telephone number
"1876" by recalling the date of the Declaration
of Independence. Another, the number
of States in the Union, by associating it with
the last two figures of the number of his place
of business. But by far the better way to
memorize dates, special numbers connected
with events, etc., is to visualize the picture of
the event with the picture of the date or number,
thus combining the two things into a
mental picture, the association of which will
be preserved when the picture is recalled.
Verse of doggerel, such as "In fourteen hundred
and ninety-two, Columbus sailed the
ocean blue;" or "In eighteen hundred and
sixty-one, our country's Civil war begun,"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</SPAN></span>
etc., have their places and uses. But it is far
better to cultivate the "sight or sound" of a
number, than to depend upon cumbersome
associative methods based on artificial links
and pegs.</p>
<p>Finally, as we have said in the preceding
chapters, before one can develop a good memory
of a subject, he must first cultivate an interest
in that subject. Therefore, if you will
keep your interest in figures alive by working
out a few problems in mathematics, once in a
while, you will find that figures will begin to
have a new interest for you. A little elementary
arithmetic, used with interest, will do
more to start you on the road to "How to
Remember Numbers" than a dozen text books
on the subject. In memory, the three rules
are: "Interest, Attention and Exercise"—and
the last is the most important, for without
it the others fail. You will be surprised
to see how many interesting things there are
in figures, as you proceed. The task of going
over the elementary arithmetic will not be
nearly so "dry" as when you were a child.
You will uncover all sorts of "queer" things
in relation to numbers. Just as a "sample"
let us call your attention to a few:<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Take the figure "1" and place behind it a
number of "naughts," thus: 1,000,000,000,000,—as
many "naughts" or ciphers as you
wish. Then divide the number by the figure
"7." You will find that the result is always
this "142,857" then another "142,857," and
so on to infinity, if you wish to carry the calculation
that far. These six figures will be
repeated over and over again. Then multiply
this "142,857" by the figure "7," and
your product will be <i>all nines</i>. Then take
any number, and set it down, placing beneath
it a reversal of itself and subtract the latter
from the former, thus:</p>
<p class="noin">
<span style="margin-left: 11.25em;">117,761,909</span><br/>
<span class="u" style="margin-left: 11em;"> 90,916,771</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 11.5em;">26,845,138</span><br/></p>
<p>and you will find that the result will always
reduce to nine, and is always a multiple of
9. Take any number composed of two or
more figures, and subtract from it the added
sum of its separate figures, and the result is
always a multiple of 9, thus:<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</SPAN></span></p>
<p class="noin">
<span style="margin-left: 13em;">184</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 8.75em;">1</span> + 8 + 4 <span class="u">= 13</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 13em;">171 ÷ 9 = 19</span><br/></p>
<p>We mention these familiar examples merely
to remind you that there is much more of interest
in mere figures than many would suppose.
If you can arouse your interest in
them, then you will be well started on the
road to the memorizing of numbers. Let figures
and numbers "mean something" to you,
and the rest will be merely a matter of detail.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></SPAN>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
<p class="chap">HOW TO REMEMBER MUSIC.</p>
<p>Like all of the other faculties of the mind,
that of music or tune is manifested in varying
degrees by different individuals. To some
music seems to be almost instinctively
grasped, while to others it is acquired only
by great effort and much labor. To some
harmony is natural, and inharmony a matter
of repulsion, while others fail to recognize
the difference between the two except in extreme
cases. Some seem to be the very soul
of music, while others have no conception of
what the soul of music may be. Then there
is manifested the different phases of the
knowledge of music. Some play correctly by
ear, but are clumsy and inefficient when it
comes to playing by note. Others play very
correctly in a mechanical manner, but fail to
retain the memory of music which they have
heard. It is indeed a good musician who
combines within himself, or herself, both of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</SPAN></span>
the two last mentioned faculties—the ear perception
of music and the ability to execute
correctly from notes.</p>
<p>There are many cases of record in which
extraordinary powers of memory of music
have been manifested. Fuller relates the following
instances of this particular phase of
memory: Carolan, the greatest of Irish bards,
once met a noted musician and challenged him
to a test of their respective musical abilities.
The <i>defi</i> was accepted and Carolan's rival
played on his violin one of Vivaldi's most
difficult concertos. On the conclusion of the
performance, Carolan, who had never heard
the piece before, took his harp and played the
concerto through from beginning to end without
making a single error. His rival thereupon
yielded the palm, thoroughly satisfied
of Carolan's superiority, as well he might be.
Beethoven could retain in his memory any
musical composition, however complex, that
he had listened to, and could reproduce most
of it. He could play from memory every one
of the compositions in Bach's 'Well Tempered
Clavichord,' there being forty-eight
preludes and the same number of fugues<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</SPAN></span>
which in intricacy of movement and difficulty
of execution are almost unexampled, as each
of these compositions is written in the most
abstruse style of counterpoint.</p>
<p>"Mozart, at four years of age, could remember
note for note, elaborate solos in concertos
which he had heard; he could learn a
minuet in half an hour, and even composed
short pieces at that early age. At six he was
able to compose without the aid of an instrument,
and continued to advance rapidly in
musical memory and knowledge. When fourteen
years old he went to Rome in Holy Week.
At the Sistine Chapel was performed each
day, Allegri's 'Miserere,' the score of which
Mozart wished to obtain, but he learned that
no copies were allowed to be made. He
listened attentively to the performance, at
the conclusion of which he wrote the whole
score from memory without an error. Another
time, Mozart was engaged to contribute
an original composition to be performed by a
noted violinist and himself at Vienna before
the Emperor Joseph. On arriving at the
appointed place Mozart discovered that he
had forgotten to bring his part. Nothing<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</SPAN></span>
dismayed, he placed a blank sheet of paper
before him, and played his part through from
memory without a mistake. When the opera
of 'Don Giovanni' was first performed there
was no time to copy the score for the harpsichord,
but Mozart was equal to the occasion;
he conducted the entire opera and played the
harpsichord accompaniment to the songs and
choruses without a note before him. There
are many well-attested instances of Mendelssohn's
remarkable musical memory. He once
gave a grand concert in London, at which his
Overture to 'Midsummer Night's Dream'
was produced. There was only one copy of
the full score, which was taken charge of by
the organist of St. Paul's Cathedral, who unfortunately
left it in a hackney coach—whereupon
Mendelssohn wrote out another score
from memory, without an error. At another
time, when about to direct a public performance
of Bach's 'Passion Music,' he found on
mounting the conductor's platform that instead
of the score of the work to be performed,
that of another composition had been
brought by mistake. Without hesitation
Mendelssohn successfully conducted this com<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</SPAN></span>plicated
work from memory, automatically
turning over leaf after leaf of the score before
him as the performance progressed, so
that no feeling of uneasiness might enter the
minds of the orchestra and singers. Gottschalk,
it is said, could play from memory several
thousand compositions, including many
of the works of Bach. The noted conductor,
Vianesi, rarely has the score before him in
conducting an opera, knowing every note of
many operas from memory."</p>
<p>It will be seen that two phases of memory
must enter into the "memory of music"—the
memory of tune and the memory of the
notes. The memory of tune of course falls
into the class of ear-impressions, and what
has been said regarding them is also applicable
to this case. The memory of notes falls
into the classification of eye-impressions, and
the rules of this class of memory applies in
this case. As to the cultivation of the memory
of tune, the principle advice to be given
is that the student take an active interest in
all that pertains to the sound of music, and
also takes every opportunity for listening to
good music, and endeavoring to reproduce it<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</SPAN></span>
in the imagination or memory. Endeavor to
enter into the spirit of the music until it becomes
a part of yourself. Rest not content
with merely hearing it, but lend yourself to a
<i>feeling</i> of its meaning. The more the music
"means to you," the more easily will you
remember it. The plan followed by many students,
particularly those of vocal music, is to
have a few bars of a piece played over to
them several times, until they are able to hum
it correctly; then a few more are added; and
then a few more and so on. Each addition
must be reviewed in connection with that
which was learned before, so that the chain of
association may be kept unbroken. The principle
is the same as the child learning his
A-B-C—he remembers "B" because it follows
"A." By this constant addition of
"just a little bit more," accompanied by frequent
reviews, long and difficult pieces may
be memorized.</p>
<p>The memory of notes may be developed by
the method above named—the method of
learning a few bars well, and then adding a
few more, and frequently reviewing as far
as you have learned, forging the links of as<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</SPAN></span>sociation
as you go along, by frequent practice.
The method being entirely that of
eye-impression and subject to its rules, you
must observe the idea of visualization—that
is learning each bar until you can <i>see</i> it "in
your mind's eye" as you proceed. But in
this, as in many other eye-impressions, you
will find that you will be greatly aided by
your memory of the <i>sound</i> of the notes, in
addition to their appearance. Try to associate
the two as much as possible, so that
when you <i>see</i> a note, you will <i>hear</i> the sound
of it, and when you <i>hear</i> a note sounded, you
will <i>see</i> it as it appears on the score. This
combining of the impressions of both sight
and sound will give you the benefit of the
double sense impression, which results in
doubling your memory efficiency. In addition
to visualizing the notes themselves, the
student should add the appearance of the
various symbols denoting the key, the time,
the movement, expression, etc., so that he
may hum the air from the visualized notes,
with expression and with correct interpretation.
Changes of key, time or movement
should be carefully noted in the memoriza<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</SPAN></span>tion
of the notes. And above everything else,
memorize the <i>feeling</i> of that particular portion
of the score, that you may not only see
and hear, but also <i>feel</i> that which you are recalling.</p>
<p>We would advise the student to practice
memorizing simple songs at first, for various
reasons. One of these reasons is that these
songs lend themselves readily to memorizing,
and the chain of easy association is usually
maintained throughout.</p>
<p>In this phase of memory, as in all others,
we add the advice to: Take interest; bestow
Attention; and Practice and Exercise as often
as possible. You may have tired of these
words—but they constitute the main principles
of the development of a retentive memory.
Things must be impressed upon the
memory, before they may be recalled. This
should be remembered in every consideration
of the subject.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
<p class="chap">HOW TO REMEMBER OCCURRENCES.</p>
<p>The phase of memory which manifests in
the recording of and recollection of the occurrences
and details of one's every-day life is
far more important than would appear at first
thought. The average person is under the
impression that he remembers very well the
occurrences of his every-day business, professional
or social life, and is apt to be surprised
to have it suggested to him that he
really remembers but very little of what happens
to him during his waking hours. In
order to prove how very little of this kind is
really remembered, let each student lay down
this book, at this place, and then quieting his
mind let him endeavor to recall the incidents
of the same day of the preceding week. He
will be surprised to see how very little of
what happened on that day he is really capable
of recollecting. Then let him try the
same experiment with the occurrences of yes<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</SPAN></span>terday—this
result will also excite surprise.
It is true that if he is reminded of some particular
occurrence, he will recall it, more or
less distinctly, but beyond that he will remember
nothing. Let him imagine himself called
upon to testify in court, regarding the happenings
of the previous day, or the day of
the week before, and he will realize his position.</p>
<p>The reason for his failure to easily remember
the events referred to is to be found in
the fact that he made no effort at the time to
impress these happenings upon his subconscious
mentality. He allowed them to pass
from his attention like the proverbial "water
from the duck's back." He did not wish to
be bothered with the recollection of trifles,
and in endeavoring to escape from them, he
made the mistake of failing to store them
away. There is a vast difference between
dwelling on the past, and storing away past
records for possible future reference. To
allow the records of each day to be destroyed
is like tearing up the important business
papers in an office in order to avoid giving
them a little space in the files.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>It is not advisable to expend much mental
effort in fastening each important detail of
the day upon the mind, as it occurs; but there
is an easier way that will accomplish the purpose,
if one will but take a little trouble in
that direction. We refer to the practice of
<i>reviewing</i> the occurrences of each day, after
the active work of the day is over. If you
will give to the occurrences of each day a
mental review in the evening, you will find
that the act of reviewing will employ the attention
to such an extent as to register the
happenings in such a manner that they will
be available if ever needed thereafter. It is
akin to the filing of the business papers of
the day, for possible future reference. Besides
this advantage, these reviews will serve
you well as a reminder of many little things
of immediate importance which have escaped
your recollection by reason of something that
followed them in the field of attention.</p>
<p>You will find that a little practice will enable
you to review the events of the day, in a
very short space of time, with a surprising
degree of accuracy of detail. It seems that
the mind will readily respond to this demand<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</SPAN></span>
upon it. The process appears to be akin to a
mental digestion, or rather a mental rumination,
similar to that of the cow when it "chews
the cud" that it has previously gathered.
The thing is largely a "knack" easily acquired
by a little practice. It will pay you
for the little trouble and time that you expend
upon it. As we have said, not only do you
gain the advantage of storing away these
records of the day for future use, but you
also have your attention called to many important
details that have escaped you, and
you will find that many ideas of importance
will come to you in your moments of leisure
"rumination." Let this work be done in the
evening, when you feel at ease—but do not do
it after you retire. The bed is made for sleep,
not for thinking. You will find that the subconsciousness
will awaken to the fact that it
will be called upon later for the records of
the day, and will, accordingly, "take notice"
of what happens, in a far more diligent and
faithful manner. The subconsciousness responds
to a call made upon it in an astonishing
manner, when it once understands just
what is required of it. You will see that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</SPAN></span>
much of the virtue of the plan recommended
consists in the fact that in the review there
is an employment of the attention in a manner
impossible during the haste and rush of
the day's work. The faint impressions are
brought out for examination, and the attention
of the examination and review greatly
deepen the impression in each case, so that
it may be reproduced thereafter. In a sentence:
it is <i>the deepening of the faint impressions
of the day</i>.</p>
<p>Thurlow Weed, a well-known politician of
the last century, testifies to the efficacy of
the above mentioned method, in his "Memoirs."
His plan was slightly different from
that mentioned by us, but you will at once see
that it involves the same principles—the same
psychology. Mr. Weed says: "Some of my
friends used to think that I was 'cut out' for
a politician, but I saw at once a fatal weakness.
My memory was a sieve. I could remember
nothing. Dates, names, appointments,
faces—everything escaped me. I said
to my wife, 'Catherine, I shall never make a
successful politician, for I cannot remember,
and that is a prime necessity of politicians.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</SPAN></span>
A politician who sees a man once should remember
him forever.' My wife told me that
I must train my memory. So when I came
home that night I sat down alone and spent
fifteen minutes trying silently to recall with
accuracy the principal events of the day.
I could remember but little at first—now I
remember that I could not then recall what I
had for breakfast. After a few days' practice
I found I could recall more. Events
came back to me more minutely, more accurately,
and more vividly than at first. After
a fortnight or so of this, Catherine said 'why
don't you relate to me the events of the day
instead of recalling them to yourself? It
would be interesting and my interest in it
would be a stimulus to you.' Having great
respect for my wife's opinion, I began a
habit of oral confession, as it were, which was
continued for almost fifty years. Every
night, the last thing before retiring, I told her
everything I could remember that had happened
to me, or about me, during the day. I
generally recalled the very dishes I had for
breakfast, dinner and tea; the people I had
seen, and what they had said; the editorials<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</SPAN></span>
I had written for my paper, giving her a brief
abstract of them; I mentioned all the letters
I had seen and received, and the very language
used, as nearly as possible; when I had
walked or ridden—I told her everything that
had come within my observation. I found
that I could say my lessons better and better
every year, and instead of the practice growing
irksome, it became a pleasure to go over
again the events of the day. I am indebted
to this discipline for a memory of unusual
tenacity, and I recommend the practice to all
who wish to store up facts, or expect to have
much to do with influencing men."</p>
<p>The careful student, after reading these
words of Thurlow Weed, will see that in
them he has not only given a method of recalling
the particular class of occurrences
mentioned in this lesson, but has also pointed
out a way whereby the entire field of memory
may be trained and developed. The habit of
reviewing and "telling" the things that one
perceives, does and thinks during the day,
naturally sharpens the powers of future observation,
attention and perception. If you
are witnessing a thing which you know that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</SPAN></span>
you will be called upon to describe to another
person, you will instinctively apply your attention
to it. The knowledge that you will be
called upon for a description of a thing will
give the zest of interest or necessity to it,
which may be lacking otherwise. If you will
"sense" things with the knowledge that you
will be called upon to tell of them later on,
you will give the interest and attention that
go to make sharp, clear and deep impressions
on the memory. In this case the seeing and
hearing has "a meaning" to you, and a purpose.
In addition to this, the work of review
establishes a desirable habit of mind. If you
don't care to relate the occurrences to another
person—learn to tell them to yourself in the
evening. Play the part yourself. There is a
valuable secret of memory imbedded in this
chapter—if you are wise enough to apply it.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
<p class="chap">HOW TO REMEMBER FACTS.</p>
<p>In speaking of this phase of memory we use
the word "fact" in the sense of "an ascertained
item of knowledge," rather than in
the sense of "a happening," etc. In this
sense the Memory of Facts is the ability to
store away and recollect items of knowledge
bearing upon some particular thing under
consideration. If we are considering the subject
of "Horse," the "facts" that we wish
to remember are the various items of information
and knowledge regarding the horse,
that we have acquired during our experience—facts
that we have seen, heard or read, regarding
the animal in question and to that
which concerns it. We are continually acquiring
items of information regarding all
kinds of subjects, and yet when we wish to
collect them we often find the task rather
difficult, even though the original impressions
were quite clear. The difficulty is largely due<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</SPAN></span>
to the fact that the various facts are associated
in our minds only by contiguity in time
or place, or both, the associations of relation
being lacking. In other words we have not
properly classified and indexed our bits of
information, and do not know where to begin
to search for them. It is like the confusion
of the business man who kept all of his papers
in a barrel, without index, or order. He
knew that "they are all <i>there</i>" but he had
hard work to find any one of them when it
was required. Or, we are like the compositor
whose type has become "pied," and then
thrown into a big box—when he attempts to
set up a book page, he will find it very difficult,
if not impossible—whereas, if each letter
were in its proper "box," he would set
up the page in a short time.</p>
<p>This matter of association by relation is
one of the most important things in the whole
subject of thought, and the degree of correct
and efficient thinking depends materially
upon it. It does not suffice us to merely
"know" a thing—we must know where to
find it when we want it. As old Judge
Sharswood, of Pennsylvania, once said: "It<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</SPAN></span>
is not so much to know the law, as to know
<i>where to find it</i>." Kay says: "Over the associations
formed by contiguity in time or space
we have but little control. They are in a
manner accidental, depending upon the order
in which the objects present themselves to
the mind. On the other hand, association by
similarity is largely put in our own power;
for we, in a measure, select those objects that
are to be associated, and bring them together
in the mind. We must be careful, however,
only to associate together such things as we
wish to be associated together and to recall
each other; and the associations we form
should be based on fundamental and essential,
and not upon mere superficial or casual resemblances.
When things are associated by
their accidental, and not by their essential
qualities,—by their superficial, and not by
their fundamental relations, they will not be
available when wanted, and will be of little
real use. When we associate what is new
with what most nearly resembles it in the
mind already, we give it its proper place in
our fabric of thought. By means of association
by similarity, we tie up our ideas, as it<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</SPAN></span>
were, in separate bundles, and it is of the utmost
importance that all the ideas that most
nearly resemble each other be in one bundle."</p>
<p>The best way to acquire correct associations,
and many of them, for a separate fact
that you wish to store away so that it may be
recollected when needed—some useful bit of
information or interesting bit of knowledge,
that "may come in handy" later on—is to
<i>analyze</i> it and its relations. This may be done
by asking yourself questions about it—each
thing that you associate it with in your answers
being just one additional "cross-index"
whereby you may find it readily when
you want it. As Kay says: "The principle
of asking questions and obtaining answers
to them, may be said to characterize all intellectual
effort." This is the method by which
Socrates and Plato drew out the knowledge
of their pupils, filling in the gaps and attaching
new facts to those already known. When
you wish to so consider a fact, ask yourself
the following questions about it:</p>
<table style="margin-left: 5%; margin-left: 5%;" summary="list">
<tr>
<td class="tdr">I. </td>
<td class="tdl">Where did it come from or originate?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">II.</td>
<td class="tdl">What caused it?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">III.</td>
<td class="tdl">What history or record has it?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IV.</td>
<td class="tdl">What are its attributes, qualities and
characteristics?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">V.</td>
<td class="tdl">What things can I most readily associate
with it? What is it like?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VI.</td>
<td class="tdl">What is it good for—how may it be
used—what can I do with it?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VII.</td>
<td class="tdl">What does it prove—what can be deduced
from it?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VIII.</td>
<td class="tdl">What are its natural results—what
happens because of it?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IX.</td>
<td class="tdl">What is its future; and its natural or
probable end or finish?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">X.</td>
<td class="tdl">What do I think of it, on the whole—what
are my general impressions
regarding it?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XI.</td>
<td class="tdl">What do I know about it, in the way
of general information?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XII.</td>
<td class="tdl">What have I heard about it, and from
whom, and when?</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p>If you will take the trouble to put any
"fact" through the above rigid examination,
you will not only attach it to hundreds of convenient
and familiar other facts, so that you
will remember it readily upon occasion, but
you will also create a new subject of general
information in your mind of which this par<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</SPAN></span>ticular
fact will be the central thought. Similar
systems of analysis have been published
and sold by various teachers, at high prices—and
many men have considered that the results
justified the expenditure. So do not
pass it by lightly.</p>
<p>The more other facts that you manage to
associate with any one fact, the more pegs
will you have to hang your facts upon—the
more "loose ends" will you have whereby to
pull that fact into the field of consciousness—the
more cross indexes will you have whereby
you may "run down" the fact when you
need it. The more associations you attach
to a fact, the more "meaning" does that fact
have for you, and the more interest will be
created regarding it in your mind. Moreover,
by so doing, you make very probable
the "automatic" or involuntary recollection
of that fact when you are thinking of some
of its associated subjects; that is, it will come
into your mind naturally in connection with
something else—in a "that reminds me"
fashion. And the oftener that you are involuntarily
"reminded" of it, the clearer and
deeper does its impression become on the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</SPAN></span>
records of your memory. The oftener you
use a fact, the easier does it become to recall
it when needed. The favorite pen of a man
is always at his hand in a remembered position,
while the less used eraser or similar
thing has to be searched for, often without
success. And the more associations that you
bestow upon a fact, the oftener is it likely to
be used.</p>
<p>Another point to be remembered is that the
future association of a fact depends very
much upon your system of filing away facts.
If you will think of this when endeavoring
to store away a fact for future reference, you
will be very apt to find the best mental pigeon-hole
for it. File it away with <i>the thing it most
resembles</i>, or to which it has the most familiar
relationship. The child does this, involuntarily—it
is nature's own way. For instance,
the child sees a zebra, it files away that animal
as "a donkey with stripes;" a giraffe as
a "long-necked horse;" a camel as a "horse
with long, crooked legs, long neck and humps
on its back." The child always attaches its
new knowledge or fact on to some familiar
fact or bit of knowledge—sometimes the re<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</SPAN></span>sult
is startling, but the child remembers by
means of it nevertheless. The grown up children
will do well to build similar connecting
links of memory. Attach the new thing to
some old familiar thing. It is easy when you
once have the knack of it. The table of questions
given a little farther back will bring to
mind many connecting links. Use them.</p>
<p>If you need any proof of the importance of
association by relation, and of the laws governing
its action, you have but to recall the
ordinary "train of thought" or "chain of images"
in the mind, of which we become conscious
when we are day-dreaming or indulging
in reverie, or even in general thought regarding
any subject. You will see that every
mental image or idea, or recollection is associated
with and connected to the preceding
thought and the one following it. It is a chain
that is endless, until something breaks into
the subject from outside. A fact flashes into
your mind, apparently from space and without
any reference to anything else. In such
cases you will find that it occurs either because
you had previously set your subconscious
mentality at work upon some prob<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</SPAN></span>lem,
or bit of recollection, and the flash was
the belated and delayed result; or else that
the fact came into your mind because of its
association with some other fact, which in
turn came from a precedent one, and so on.
You hear a distant railroad whistle and you
think of a train; then of a journey; then of
some distant place; then of some one in that
place; then of some event in the life of that
person; then of a similar event in the life of
another person; then of that other person;
then of his or her brother; then of that
brother's last business venture; then of that
business; then of some other business resembling
it; then of some people in that other
business; then of their dealings with a man
you know; then of the fact that another man
of a similar name to the last man owes you
some money; then of your determination to
get that money; then you make a memorandum
to place the claim in the hands of a lawyer
to see whether it cannot be collected now,
although the man was "execution proof" last
year—from distant locomotive whistle to the
possible collection of the account. And yet,
the links forgotten, the man will say that he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</SPAN></span>
"just happened to think of" the debtor, or
that "it somehow flashed right into my
mind," etc. But it was nothing but the law
of association—that's all. Moreover, you
will now find that whenever you hear mentioned
the term "association of mental
ideas," etc., you will remember the above illustration
or part of it. We have forged
a new link in the chain of association for you,
and years from now it will appear in your
thoughts.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
<p class="chap">HOW TO REMEMBER WORDS, ETC.</p>
<p>In a preceding chapter we gave a number
of instances of persons who had highly developed
their memory of words, sentences,
etc. History is full of instances of this kind.
The moderns fall far behind the ancients in
this respect; probably because there does not
exist the present necessity for the feats of
memory which were once accepted as commonplace
and not out of the ordinary. Among
ancient people, when printing was unknown
and manuscripts scarce and valuable, it was
the common custom of the people to learn
"by heart" the various sacred teachings of
their respective religions. The sacred books
of the Hindus were transmitted in this way,
and it was a common thing among the
Hebrews to be able to recite the books of
Moses and the Prophets entirely from memory.
Even to this day the faithful Mohammedans
are taught to commit the entire<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</SPAN></span>
Koran to memory. And investigation reveals,
always, that there has been used the
identical process of committing these sacred
books to memory, and recalling them at will—the
natural method, instead of an artificial
one. And therefore we shall devote this
chapter solely to this method whereby poems
or prose may be committed to memory and
recalled readily.</p>
<p>This natural method of memorizing words,
sentences, or verses is no royal road. It is
a system which must be mastered by steady
work and faithful review. One must start
at the beginning and work his way up. But
the result of such work will astonish anyone
not familiar with it. It is the very same
method that the Hindus, Hebrews, Mohammedans,
Norsemen, and the rest of the races,
memorized their thousands of verses and
hundreds of chapters of the sacred books of
their people. It is the method of the successful
actor, and the popular elocutionist, not to
mention those speakers who carefully commit
to memory their "impromptu" addresses and
"extemporaneous" speeches.</p>
<p>This natural system of memorizing is based<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</SPAN></span>
upon the principle which has already been
alluded to in this book, and by which every
child learns its alphabet and its multiplication
table, as well as the little "piece" that
it recites for the entertainment of its fond
parents and the bored friends of the family.
That principle consists of the learning of one
line at a time, and reviewing that line; then
learning a second line and reviewing that;
and then reviewing the two lines together;
and so on, each addition being reviewed in
connection with those that went before. The
child learns the sound of "A;" then it learns
"B;" then it associates the sounds of "A,
B" in its first review; the "C" is added and
the review runs: "A, B, C." And so on
until "Z" is reached and the child is able
to review the entire list from "A to Z," inclusive.
The multiplication table begins with
its "twice 1 is 2," then "twice 2 is 4," and
so on, a little at a time until the "twos" are
finished and the "threes" begun. This process
is kept up, by constant addition and constant
review, until "12 twelves" finishes up
the list, and the child is able to repeat the
"tables" from first to last from memory.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>But there is more to it, in the case of the
child, than merely learning to repeat the
alphabet or the multiplication table—there is
also the strengthening of the memory as a
result of its exercise and use. Memory, like
every faculty of the mind, or every muscle of
the body, improves and develops by intelligent
and reasonable use and exercise. Not
only does this exercise and use develop the
memory along the particular line of the faculty
used, but also along <i>every</i> line and
faculty. This is so because the exercise develops
the power of concentration, and the
use of the voluntary attention.</p>
<p>We suggest that the student who wishes
to acquire a good memory for words, sentences,
etc., begin at once, selecting some favorite
poem for the purpose of the demonstration.
Then let him memorize one verse of
not over four to six lines to begin with. Let
him learn this verse perfectly, line by line,
until he is able to repeat it without a mistake.
Let him be sure to be "letter perfect"
in that verse—so perfect that he will "see"
even the capital letters and the punctuation
marks when he recites it. Then let him stop<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</SPAN></span>
for the day. The next day let him repeat the
verse learned the day before, and then let
him memorize a second verse in the same way,
and just as perfectly. Then let him review
the first and second verses together. This
addition of the second verse to the first serves
to weld the two together by association, and
each review of them together serves to add
a little bit to the weld, until they become
joined in the mind as are "A, B, C." The
third day let him learn a third verse, in the
same way and then review the three. Continue
this for say a month, adding a new
verse each day and adding it to the verses
preceding it. But constantly review them
from beginning to end. He cannot review
them too often. He will be able to have them
flow along like the letters of the alphabet,
from "A" to "Z" if he reviews properly and
often enough.</p>
<p>Then, if he can spare the time, let him begin
the second month by learning <i>two verses</i>
each day, and adding to those that precede
them, with constant and faithful reviews. He
will find that he can memorize two verses, in
the second month, as easily as he did the one<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</SPAN></span>
verse in the first month. His memory has
been trained to this extent. And so, he may
proceed from month to month, adding an
extra verse to his daily task, until he is unable
to spare the time for all the work, or
until he feels satisfied with what he has accomplished.
Let him use moderation and
not try to become a phenomenon. Let him
avoid overstraining. After he has memorized
the entire poem, let him start with a new
one, but not forget to revive the old one at
frequent intervals. If he finds it impossible
to add the necessary number of new verses,
by reason of other occupation, etc., let him
not fail to keep up his review work. The exercise
and review is more important than
the mere addition of so many new verses.</p>
<p>Let him vary the verses, or poems with
prose selections. He will find the verses of
the Bible very well adapted for such exercise,
as they lend themselves easily to registration
in the memory. Shakespeare may be
used to advantage in this work. The "Rubaiyat"
of Omar Khayyam; or the "Lady of the
Lake" by Scott; or the "Song Celestial" or
"Light of Asia" both by Edwin Arnold, will<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</SPAN></span>
be found to be well adapted to this system
of memorizing, the verses of each being apt to
"stick in the memory," and each poem being
sufficiently long to satisfy the requirements
of even the most ambitious student. To look
at the complete poem (any of those mentioned)
it would seem almost impossible that
one would ever be able to memorize and recite
it from beginning to end, letter perfect.
But on the principle of the continual dripping
of water wearing away the stone; or the
snowball increasing at each roll; this practice
of a little being associated to what he already
has will soon allow him to accumulate a wonderfully
large store of memorized verses,
poems, recitations, etc. It is an actual demonstration
of the catchy words of the popular
song which informs one that: "Every
little bit, added to what you've got, makes
just a little bit more."</p>
<p>After he has acquired quite a large assortment
of memorized selections, he will find it
impossible to review them all at one time.
But he should be sure to review them all at
intervals, no matter how many days may
elapse between each review.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The student who has familiarized himself
with the principles upon which memory depends,
as given in the preceding chapters,
will at once see that the three principles of
attention, association and repetition are employed
in the natural method herein recommended.
Attention must be given in order
to memorize each verse in the first place; association
is employed in the relationship
created between the old verses and the new
ones; and repetition is employed by the frequent
reviewing, which serves to deepen the
memory impression each time the poem is repeated.
Moreover, the principle of interest
is invoked, in the gradual progress made, and
the accomplishment of what at first seemed
to be an impossible task—the game element
is thus supplied, which serves as an incentive.
These combined principles render this
method an ideal one, and it is not to be
wondered that the race has so recognized it
from the earliest times.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
<p class="chap">HOW TO REMEMBER BOOKS, PLAYS, TALES, ETC.</p>
<p>In the preceding chapters we have given
you suggestions for the development of the
principal forms of memory. But there are
still other phases or forms of memory, which
while coming under the general classification
may be still considered as worthy of special
consideration. For instance there may be
suggestions given regarding the memorization
of the contents of the books you read, the
stories you hear, etc. And so we have
thought it advisable to devote one chapter
to a consideration of these various phases
of memory that have been "left out" of the
other chapters.</p>
<p>Many of us fail to remember the important
things in the books we read, and are often
mortified by our ignorance regarding the contents
of the works of leading authors, or of
popular novels, which although we have read,
we have failed to impress upon the records<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</SPAN></span>
of our memory. Of course we must begin by
reminding you of the ever present necessity
of interest and attention—we cannot escape
from these principles of the memory. The
trouble with the majority of people is that
they read books "to kill time," as a sort of
mental narcotic or anæsthetic, instead of for
the purpose of obtaining something of interest
from them. By this course we not only
lose all that may be of importance or value
in the book, but also acquire the habit of careless
reading and inattention. The prevalence
of the habit of reading many newspapers
and trashy novels is responsible for the apparent
inability of many persons to intelligently
absorb and remember the contents of
a book "worth while" when they do happen
to take up such a one. But, still, even the
most careless reader may improve himself
and cure the habit of inattention and careless
reading.</p>
<p>Noah Porter says: "We have not <i>read</i> an
author till we have seen his object, whatever
it may be, as he <i>saw</i> it." Also: "Read with
attention. This is the rule that takes precedence
of all others. It stands instead of a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</SPAN></span>
score of minor directions. Indeed it comprehends
them all, and is the golden rule....
The page should be read as if it were
never to be seen a second time; the mental
eye should be fixed as if there were no other
object to think of; the memory should grasp
the facts like a vise; the impressions should
be distinctly and sharply received." It is not
necessary, nor is it advisable to attempt to
<i>memorize</i> the text of a book, excepting, perhaps,
a few passages that may seem worthy
to be treasured up word for word. The principal
thing to be remembered about a book is
its <i>meaning</i>—what it is about. Then may
follow the general outline, and the details of
the story, essay, treatise or whatever it may
be. The question that should be asked oneself,
after the book is completed, or after the
completion of some particular part of the
book, is: "What was the writer's idea—what
did he wish to say?" Get the <i>idea</i> of
the writer. By taking this mental attitude
you practically place yourself in the place
of the writer, and thus <i>take part</i> in the idea
of the book. You thus view it from the inside,
rather than from the outside. You<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</SPAN></span>
place yourself at the centre of the thing, instead
of upon its circumference.</p>
<p>If the book be a history, biography, autobiography,
narrative, or story of fact or fiction,
you will find it of value to visualize its
occurrences as the story unfolds. That is,
endeavor to form at least a faint mental picture
of the events related, so that you see
them "in your mind's eye," or imagination.
Use your imagination in connection with the
mechanical reading. In this way you build
up a series of mental pictures, which will be
impressed upon your mind, and which will
be remembered just as are the scenes of a
play that you have witnessed, or an actual
event that you have seen, only less distinct
of course. Particularly should you endeavor
to form a clear mental picture of each character,
until each one is endowed with at least
a semblance of reality to you. By doing this
you will impart a naturalness to the events
of the story and you will obtain a new pleasure
from your reading. Of course, this plan
will make you read more slowly, and many
trashy tales will cease to interest you, for
they do not contain the real elements of in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</SPAN></span>terest—but
this is no loss, but is a decided
gain for you. At the end of each reading,
take the time to mentally review the progress
of the story—let the characters and scenes
pass before your mental vision as in a moving
picture. And when the book is finally
completed, review it as a whole. By following
this course, you will not only acquire the
habit of easily remembering the tales and
books that you have read, but will also obtain
much pleasure by re-reading favorite stories
in your imagination, years after. You will
find that your favorite characters will take
on a new reality for you, and will become as
old friends in whose company you may enjoy
yourself at any time, and whom you may dismiss
when they tire you, without offense.</p>
<p>In the case of scientific treatises, essays,
etc., you may follow a similar plan by dividing
the work into small sections and mentally
reviewing the <i>thought</i>—(not the words) of
each section until you make it your own; and
then by adding new sections to your review,
you may gradually absorb and master the entire
work. All this requires time, work and
patience, but you will be repaid for your ex<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</SPAN></span>penditure.
You will find that this plan will
soon render you impatient at books of little
consequence, and will drive you to the best
books on any given subject. You will begin
to begrudge your time and attention, and hesitate
about bestowing them upon any but the
very best books. But in this you gain.</p>
<p>In order to fully acquaint yourself with a
book, before reading it you should familiarize
yourself with its general character. To do
this you should pay attention to the full title,
and the sub-title, if there be any; the name
of the author and the list of other books that
he has written, if they are noted on the title
page, or the one preceding it, according to
the usual custom. You should read the preface
and study carefully the table of contents,
that you may know the field or general subject
covered by the book—in other words endeavor
to get the general outline of the book,
into which you may afterwards fill in the details.</p>
<p>In reading a book of serious import, you
should make it a point to fully grasp the
meaning of each paragraph before passing
on to the next one. Let nothing pass you that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</SPAN></span>
you do not understand, at least in a general
way. Consult the dictionary for words not
familiar to you, so that you may grasp the
full idea intended to be expressed. At the
end of each chapter, section and part, you
should review that which you have read, until
you are able to form a mental picture of the
general ideas contained therein.</p>
<p>To those who wish to remember the dramatic
productions that they have attended,
we would say that the principles above mentioned
may be applied to this form of memory
as well as to the memory of books. By
taking an interest in each character as it appears;
by studying carefully each action and
scene, and then reviewing each act in the intervals
between the acts; and by finally reviewing
the entire play after your return
home; you will fasten the whole play as a
complete mental picture, on the records of
your memory. If you have acquainted yourself
with what we have just said regarding
the recollection of the contents of books, you
will be able to modify and adapt them to the
purpose of recollecting plays and dramatic
productions. You will find that the oftener<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</SPAN></span>
you review a play, the more clearly will you
remember it. Many little details overlooked
at first will come into the field of consciousness
and fit into their proper places.</p>
<p>Sermons, lectures and other discourses may
be remembered by bestowing interest and attention
upon them, and by attempting to
grasp each general idea advanced, and by
noting the passage from one general idea to
another. If you will practice this a few
times, you will find that when you come to
review the discourse (and this you should
always do—it is the natural way of developing
memory) the little details will come up
and fit into their proper places. In this form
of memory, the important thing is to train
the memory by exercise and review. You will
find that at each review of a discourse you
will have made progress. By practice and
exercise, the subconscious mentality will do
better work, and will show that it is rising
to its new responsibilities. You have allowed
it to sleep during the many discourses to
which you have listened, and it must be
taught new habits. Let it know that it is expected
to retain that which it hears, and then<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</SPAN></span>
exercise it frequently by reviews of discourses,
and you will be surprised at the degree
of the work it will perform for you.
Not only will you remember better, but you
will <i>hear</i> better and more intelligently. The
subconsciousness, knowing that it will be
called upon later on to recollect what is being
said, will urge you to bestow the attention
necessary to supply it with the proper material.</p>
<p>To those who have had trouble in remembering
discourses, we urge that they should
begin to attend lectures and other forms of
discourse, with the distinct purpose of developing
that form of memory. Give to the subconscious
mentality the positive command
that it shall attend to what is being said, and
shall record the same in such a way that when
you review the discourse afterward you will
be presented with a good synopsis or syllabus
of it. You should avoid any attempt to memorize
the <i>words</i> of the discourse—your purpose
being to absorb and record the <i>ideas</i> and
general thought expressed. Interest—Attention—Practice—Review—these
are the important points in memory.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>To remember stories, anecdotes, fables,
etc., the principles given above are to be employed.
The main thing in memorizing an
anecdote is to be able to catch the <i>fundamental
idea</i> underlying it, and the epigrammatic
sentence, or central phrase which forms
the "point" of the story. Be sure that you
catch these perfectly, and then commit the
"point" to memory. If necessary make a
memorandum of the point, until you have
opportunity to review the story in your mind.
Then carefully review it mentally, letting the
mental image of the idea pass before you
in review, and then repeating it to yourself
in your own words. By rehearsing and reviewing
the story, you make it your own and
will be able to relate it afterward just as
you would something that you had actually
experienced. So true is this principle, that
when carried too far it endows the story with
a false sense of actuality—who has not known
men who told a story so often that they came
actually to believe it themselves? Do not
carry the principle to this extreme but use
it in moderation. The trouble with many men
is that they attempt to repeat a tale, long<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</SPAN></span>
after they have heard it, without reviewing
or rehearsing in the meantime. Consequently
they omit many important points,
because they have failed to impress the
story as a whole upon the memory. In
order to <i>know</i> an anecdote properly, one
should be able to <i>see</i> its characters and
incidents, just as he does when he sees
an illustrated joke in a comic paper. If
you can make a mental picture of an anecdote,
you will be apt to remember it with
ease. The noted story tellers review and rehearse
their jokes, and have been known to
try them on their unsuspecting friends in
order to get the benefit of practice before
relating them in public—this practice has
been called by flippant people: "trying it on
the dog." But it has its good points, and advantages.
It at least saves one the mortification
of being compelled to finish up a long-drawn
out tale by an: "Er—well, um-m-m—I'm
afraid I've forgotten just how that story
ended—but it was a good one!"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></SPAN>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
<p class="chap">GENERAL INSTRUCTIONS.</p>
<p>In this chapter we shall call your attention
to certain of the general principles already
mentioned in the preceding chapters, for the
purpose of further impressing them upon
your mind, and in order that you may be able
to think of and to consider them independent
of the details of the special phases of memory.
This chapter may be considered in the nature
of a general review of certain fundamental
principles mentioned in the body of the work.</p>
<p>POINT I. <i>Give to the thing that you wish
to memorize, as great a degree of concentrated
attention as possible.</i></p>
<p>We have explained the reason for this advice
in many places in the book. The degree
of concentrated attention bestowed upon the
object under consideration, determines the
strength, clearness and depth of the impression
received and stored away in the subconsciousness.
The character of these stored<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</SPAN></span>
away impressions determines the degree of
ease in remembrance and recollection.</p>
<p>POINT II. <i>In considering an object to be
memorized, endeavor to obtain the impressions
through as many faculties and senses
as possible.</i></p>
<p>The reason for this advice should be apparent
to you, if you have carefully read
the preceding chapters. An impression received
through both sound and sight is doubly
as strong as one received through but one of
these channels. You may remember a name,
or word, either by having seen it in writing
or print; or else by reason of having heard
it; but if you have both <i>seen and heard</i> it
you have a double impression, and possess
two possible ways of reviving the impression.
You are able to remember an orange
by reason of having seen it, smelt it, felt it
and tasted it, and having heard its name
pronounced. Endeavor to know a thing from
as many sense impressions as possible—use
the eye to assist ear-impressions; and the
ear to assist in eye-impressions. See the
thing from as many angles as possible.</p>
<p>POINT III. <i>Sense impressions may be<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</SPAN></span>
strengthened by exercising the particular
faculty through which the weak impressions
are received.</i></p>
<p>You will find that either your eye memory
is better than your ear memory, or vice versa.
The remedy lies in exercising the weaker
faculty, so as to bring it up to the standard
of the stronger. The chapters of eye and
ear training will help you along these lines.
The same rule applies to the several phases
of memory—develop the weak ones, and the
strong ones will take care of themselves. The
only way to develop a sense or faculty is to
intelligently train, exercise and use it. Use,
exercise and practice will work miracles in
this direction.</p>
<p>POINT IV. <i>Make your first impression
strong and firm enough to serve as a basis
for subsequent ones.</i></p>
<p>Get into the habit of fixing a clear, strong
impression of a thing to be considered, from
the first. Otherwise you are trying to build
up a large structure upon a poor foundation.
Each time you revive an impression you
deepen it, but if you have only a dim impression
to begin with, the deepened impressions<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</SPAN></span>
will not include details omitted in the first
one. It is like taking a good sharp negative
of a picture that you intend to enlarge afterward.
The details lacking in the small picture
will not appear in the enlargement; but
those that <i>do</i> appear in the small one, will be
enlarged with the picture.</p>
<p>POINT V. <i>Revive your impressions frequently
and thus deepen them.</i></p>
<p>You will know more of a picture by seeing
it a few minutes every day for a week, than
you would by spending several hours before
it at one time. So it is with the memory. By
recalling an impression a number of times,
you fix it indelibly in your mind in such a
way that it may be readily found when
needed. Such impressions are like favorite
tools which you need every little while—they
are not apt to be mislaid as are those
which are but seldom used. Use your imagination
in "going over" a thing that you wish
to remember. If you are studying a thing,
you will find that this "going over" in your
imagination will help you materially in disclosing
the things that you have not remembered
about it. By thus recognizing your<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</SPAN></span>
weak points of memory, you may be able to
pick up the missing details when you study
the object itself the next time.</p>
<p>POINT VI. <i>Use your memory and place
confidence in it.</i></p>
<p>One of the important things in the cultivation
of the memory is the actual use of it.
Begin to trust it a little, and then more, and
then still more, and it will rise to the occasion.
The man who has to tie a string around
his finger in order to remember certain
things, soon begins to cease to use his memory,
and in the end forgets to remember the
string, or what it is for. There are many details,
of course, with which it is folly to
charge the memory, but one should never
allow his memory to fall into disuse. If you
are in an occupation in which the work is
done by mechanical helps, then you should
exercise the memory by learning verses, or
other things, in order to keep it in active
practice. Do not allow your memory to
atrophy.</p>
<p>POINT VII. <i>Establish as many associations
for an impression, as possible.</i></p>
<p>If you have studied the preceding chapters,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</SPAN></span>
you will recognize the value of this point.
Association is memory's method of indexing
and cross-indexing. Each association renders
it easier to remember or recollect the thing.
Each association gives you another string to
your mental bow. Endeavor to associate a
new bit of knowledge with something already
known by, and familiar to you. In this way
to avoid the danger of having the thing isolated
and alone in your mind—without a label,
or index number and name, connect your
object or thought to be remembered with
other objects or thoughts, by the association
of contiguity in space and time, and by relationship
of kind, resemblance or oppositeness.
Sometimes the latter is very useful, as
in the case of the man who said that "Smith
reminds me so much of Brown—he's so <i>different</i>."
You will often be able to remember
a thing by remembering something else that
happened at the same place, or about the
same time—these things give you the "loose
ends" of recollection whereby you may unwind
the ball of memory. In the same way,
one is often able to recollect names by slowly
running over the alphabet, with a pencil,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</SPAN></span>
until the sight of the capital first letter of the
name brings the memory of those following
it—this, however, only when the name has
previously been memorized by <i>sight</i>. In the
same way the first few notes of a musical
selection will enable you to remember the
whole air; or the first words of a sentence,
the entire speech or selection following it.
In trying to remember a thing which has escaped
you, you will find it helpful to think
of something associated with that thing, even
remotely. A little practice will enable you
to recollect the thing along the lines of the
faintest association or clue. Some men are
adept memory detectives, following this plan.
The "loose end" in memory is all the expert
requires. Any associations furnish these
loose ends. An interesting and important
fact to remember in this connection is that
if you have some one thing that tends to escape
your memory, you may counteract the
trouble by noting the associated things that
have previously served to bring it into mind
with you. The associated thing once noted,
may thereafter be used as a loose end with
which to unwind the elusive fact or impres<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</SPAN></span>sion.
This idea of association is quite fascinating
when you begin to employ it in your
memory exercises and work. And you will
find many little methods of using it. But
always use natural association, and avoid the
temptation of endeavoring to tie your memory
up with the red-tape of the artificial
systems.</p>
<p>POINT VIII. <i>Group your impressions.</i></p>
<p>This is but a form of association, but is
very important. If you can arrange your bits
of knowledge and fact into logical groups,
you will always be master of your subject.
By associating your knowledge with other
knowledge along the same general lines, both
by resemblances and by opposites, you will
be able to find what you need just when you
need it. Napoleon Bonaparte had a mind
trained along these lines. He said that his
memory was like a large case of small drawers
and pigeon-holes, in which he filed his information
according to its kind. In order to
do this he used the methods mentioned in this
book of comparing the new thing with the old
ones, and then deciding into which group it
naturally fitted. This is largely a matter of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</SPAN></span>
practice and knack, but it may be acquired by
a little thought and care, aided by practice.
And it will repay one well for the trouble
in acquiring it. The following table will be
found useful in classifying objects, ideas,
facts, etc., so as to correlate and associate
them with other facts of a like kind. The
table is to be used in the line of questions addressed
to oneself regarding the thing under
consideration. It somewhat resembles the
table of questions given in Chapter XVII, of
this book, but has the advantage of brevity.
Memorize this table and use it. You will be
delighted at the results, after you have caught
the knack of applying it.</p>
<p>QUERY TABLE. <i>Ask yourself the following
questions regarding the thing under
consideration. It will draw out many bits of
information and associated knowledge in your
mind</i>:</p>
<table cellpadding="4" cellspacing="6" summary="query">
<tr>
<td>(1) WHAT?</td>
<td>(5) HOW?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>(2) WHENCE?</td>
<td>(6) WHY?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>(3) WHERE?</td>
<td>(7) WHITHER?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>(4) WHEN?</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p>While the above Seven Queries are given
you as a means of acquiring clear impres<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</SPAN></span>sions
and associations, they will also serve
as a Magic Key to Knowledge, if you use
them intelligently. If you can answer these
questions regarding anything, you will know
a great deal about that particular thing. And
after you have answered them fully, there
will be but little unexpressed knowledge regarding
that thing left in your memory. Try
them on some one thing—you cannot understand
them otherwise, unless you have a very
good imagination.</p>
<p class="cen space-above">FINIS.</p>
<SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN>
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