Aids to Memory/Section VII

A certain gentleman was chosen to represent the free and enlightened constituents of Never-mind-where. This gentleman desired to distinguish himself by speeches in the House, but was unfortunately "unaccustomed to public speaking," as the saying is. Not to be daunted, however, it was his habit to enter his garden, and, choosing a select corner where were a number of heads of cabbage orderly growing, to pour forth his soul in oratory. He was soon able to express himself without hesitation on various popular topics, and, highly delighted, resolved to make his "maiden speech" in the House. The eventful evening came. The oration had been already made in the garden with unprecedented success. He rose tremblingly, surveyed the dense mass of upturned faces with increasing trepidation, and strove to remember his speech. But, if it ​was at his finger ends, it certainly had deserted the tip of his tongue, and, with the exclamation, "Gentlemen, talking to you isn't like talking to cabbages!" he resumed his seat. Whether he eventually became a parliamentary orator, or continued to the end of his days a mere listener, does not transpire in the history.

The difficulty of Extemporaneous Speaking in public is so great, that the majority of speakers are obliged to use written notes as occasional prompters, or they would inevitably break down. Some cannot even depend on their memory for the reproduction of a dozen consecutive ideas. The preacher, the lecturer, the teacher, the elocutionist—all must be benefited by an application of Mnemonics to their various duties. The time wasted in preparation of a sermon or lecture may be redeemed, and the annoyance experienced through forgetfulness avoided. The teacher in his class need no longer interrupt the smooth flow of the lesson, and distract the attention of the scholars, by referring to books or notes. Whether in the pulpit, on the platform, or in the school-room, the speaker will never feel confused for the want of an idea, but will find it with the same certainty as he did his hat, stick, great-coat, or umbrella before leaving home. "A place for everything, and everything in its place," is a law by no means confined to external objects, as the use of methodical memory plainly proves.

If a sermon or lecture consist of three or four principal heads, with a variety of points under each, let a corresponding number of localities represent the major topics, and the local places of each the minor divisions. Associations may then be made as directed in Exercise 19. Notes may thus be entirely dispensed with, and extempore speaking made thoroughly practicable. There are few persons of ordinary calibre who cannot speak five minutes on a given subject. The use, therefore, of only twelve local places will suffice for an hour's speech. The value of the system is not, however, con​fined to speaking without notes, but also extends to mental reporting.

Many persons complain that they cannot remember what they hear or read. If they would locate the topics of a sermon or speech as it proceeds—which can be done without the least distraction of attention—these topics could be reproduced at home, and would bring to mind the whole of the arguments. The contents of an important book might be treated in the same way, and reading thus made the vehicle of conveying permanent impressions. There are ten sections in this book, "Aids to Memory," and each of these is subdivided into a number of minor topics. Our ten localities will, therefore, serve as a means of retaining mentally the substance of the treatise, and special portions can be recalled at pleasure by means of a moment's consideration.

Thus the science helps us to remember knowledge communicated either through the eye or the ear, and that with a facility and speed as strange to many as the introduction of railway travelling in the times of the old conveyances. As there are still to be found individuals who prefer the stage-coach institution, so doubtless we shall find opponents to the Science of Memory. Yet the writer is sanguine that the train of thought here started will attract many earnest passengers.

As it is sometimes necessary to report speakers verbatim—for which purpose we employ the art of Short-hand—so also we often require to learn compositions so as to produce the exact language. Dramatists, vocalists, elocutionists, and reciters generally, find the labour of committing pieces to memory very burdensome. To their help, therefore, we now come.

The reason why poetry in rhyme is the easiest to learn is now clear to the student of Mnemonics. The end of one line has a sound corresponding to the end of another, in a certain uniform order, and natural asso​ciation takes place between the words. Sometimes every line has this suggestive affinity, as in the following verses from the poem, "We are Seven," by Wordsworth:—

In poetry where the first and third lines differ in their endings, an association of ideas should be used instead of an association of sounds. A poetical exercise is now given as an example, in which the second and fourth lines only are connected by the termination.

The associative process might be something like this:—

A new principle in association of familiar ideas may be perceived in the above phrases. Flax does not make a ready picture in connection with buds; we therefore take the same liberty with it as with unfamiliar words, and associate that part of the word which answers our purpose. We also assimilate amain to a mane, which naturally combines with steed. So also with a few other words in the poem. Hesperus, being unfamiliar, is remembered by spear.

The terminations of the first line of each verse should be localised. Thirteen local places are required. Suppose we choose our fifth locality. A spear is sticking into the forehead of the bust, an axe is left in the globe of gold-fish, a mane lies on the table of chemicals for the purpose of some experiment, and so on. The poem may easily be learned in two or three attentive readings, and will not be forgotten as such things usually are if not often recited.

​Poetry, independent of its rhyme and measure, makes more mental impression than prose compositions, because it appeals more to the imagination, or the very power which is the basis of Mnemonics. Hence what is called "blank verse" is not much more difficult than other poetry. Let us take one of the speeches of King Henry IV., as an illustration.

​The words to be localised are printed in spaced out letters, and each of these is to be associated with the next suggestive word, which is printed in italics. Thus, after connecting the word thousands with the bee-hive in our first locality, we should consider that upon the sands it would be very imprudent to fall asleep. In the arbour the nurse was very much frighted, and so on throughout the piece.

Where measured poetry is not divided into verses, as in "The Wreck of the Hesperus," the best method is to localise a suggestive word in every alternate line, beginning with the first, and then, by means of the located ideas, to form associations with the suggestive words in the other lines. Difficult pieces of composition should be localised almost entirely. Such a piece as Southey's "Cataract of Lodore" requires a local place for every line, with an association for nearly every word. The next example is one of ordinary prose, which is marked in the same way as the last, and requires no additional comment.

A certain Italian bishop was remarkable for his happy and contented disposition. He met with much opposition, and encountered many difficulties in his journey through life; but it was observed, that he never repined at his condition, or betrayed the least degree of impatience. An intimate friend of his, who highly admired the virtue which he thought it impossible to imitate, one day asked the prelate if he would communicate the secret of being always satisfied. "Yes," replied the good old man, "I can teach you my secret, and with great facility. It consists in nothing more than making a right use of my eyes." His friend begged him to explain himself. "Most willingly," returned the bishop. "In whatever state I am, I first of all look up to heaven, and ​reflect, that my principal business here is to get to that blest abode. I then look down upon the earth, and call to mind that, when I am dead. I shall occupy but a small space in it. I then look abroad into the world, and observe what multitudes there are, who, in every respect, are less fortunate than myself. Thus I learn where true happiness is placed; where all our cares must end; and how very little reason I have to repine or to complain."

One general principle should be observed in the acquirement of Verbatim Memory. It consists in analysing the composition to be learned, so as to grasp the general idea of the author. Then every sentence should be pronounced aloud, and those words which appeal to the imaginative faculties linked together by local and reflective associations.

The knowledge of anything does not imply a remembrance of it. St. Peter says, "I will not be negligent to put you always in remembrance of these things, though ye know them, and be established in the present truth" (2 Peter i. 12). As one idea is dependent on another, whether casually or systematically connected, it cannot be reproduced without the recurrence of the necessary link. An actor who knows his part is often powerless to proceed with it if the performer with whom he is acting has forgotten his. The last word in a speech is called a cue, and suggests the opening of the next speech. Dramatists would do well to associate these "cues" according to the rules of Mnemonics. In rapid conversations on the stage, no further associations are necessary; but in long speeches, or soliloquies, all the instructions given under this section may be followed with advantage.