Stokes on Memory/Repetition
It is a very wise saying that "that which is not sufficiently known cannot be too often repeated," but its meaning may be quite misunderstood, and it may be made to subserve a thoroughly wrong application.
When an important fact has been revealed to a few, or a great principle has been to a limited extent propounded, its general dissemination can only be accomplished by its being truthfully, earnestly, and frequently repeated.
The constant repetition by a few, of truths which were of value to the many, has been instrumental in achieving some of the greatest reforms which have ever blessed the human race.
He who develops a great thought should give it utterance, and should repeat it; those who hear it should repeat it; and those who hear it thus repeated should repeat it,—thus on, thus on!
But when the saying is used not with reference to a community, but with respect to the general acquirement of knowledge by an individual, its meaning is distorted, and the theory is untrue. That which is not sufficiently known by an individual, may be, and generally is, by him too often repeated. These facts are by no means new, but they are repeated because they are not sufficiently known. The Chinese have a saying to the effect that "the echoes of an uttered word vibrate in space for ever." May the vibration of these facts be audible to every ear!
Frequent repetition is the means almost universally employed for fixing, or for attempting to fix, things in the Memory; and thousands, after toiling thus unsuccessfully for years, become disheartened, and give up in despair, finding the process injurious rather than beneficial, while many who think they have "a bad Memory" never attempt improvement. Psychological investigations, followed by numerous experiments, and confirmed by extensive practical experience, have, however, demonstrated clearly that association is, in most cases, a far more philosophical, easy, and effectual method.
Association is the mainspring of Memory, and is one of the most powerful and important involuntary operations of the mind—of every mind! It is called into action in a variety of ways, by all the senses, and by the internal influence of ideas. We all know what feelings of anguish or delight may be occasioned by the sight or remembrance of some particular object or locality, or by the recurrence of an idea from some other cause.
A blade of grass plucked from a grave may lacerate a heart. A rose-leaf from a loved one's hand may fragrant seem for ever!
We shudder as we reach the spot famed for some dread event.
The name of "Home" may make us dream of childhood's happy days.
A phrase may sometimes bring to mind a long forgotten speaker.
An air may make us think of scenes of revelry or mirth.
The simple pressure of the hand may tell a tale of love. The fragrance of a rose alone may make us think of roses. The taste of luscious grapes apes will oft suggest to us fair Spain!
The most sensitive chords of the heart vibrate in Memory. There is a sacred preciousness conferred on common things by the mighty mover of the soul—association. Who that has a soul can fail to notice this? I shall never forget a very touching illustration of this principle, which happened a few years ago. I had just taught a noble, intelligent, promising boy, who was making good progress with the System, when I was called by other engagements from the town in which he resided. I was only absent a few days, and upon my return, I found to my surprise and grief, that my young friend was dead and buried. He had fallen a victim to an epidemic, which was doing its deadly work in the district with fearful vigour. When I called to see his mother, in an agony of grief she burst into tears, and when her emotions had partially subsided, and she had narrated the melancholy details of his departure, as the tears poured down her soddened cheeks, she drew from her bosom the papers from which he had studied my System, and, in words almost inaudible with sobs, she said, "Here are his papers, all tied together by his own hand, just as he left them. He was so fond of them. They were the last things that he touched, and as he lay and wandered in his thoughts, he said his pieces through without a falter. He spoke of you so fondly, and he asked me if his papers were secure. Oh, those papers! I would not part with them for gems! I love to see them, though they make me cry!" That was true poetry. There was no studied sentimentality there. Those were the pure, spontaneous gushings of a mother's soul!
The Science of Mnemonics enables us to place very frequently the spontaneous or involuntary operations of Association under control in such a manner as to insure one object or idea, suggesting at a future time some other particular object or idea which we may desire, and nothing else! If we cannot thus render the laws of association subservient to our wishes, one idea will often suggest Another which we do not want!! This result is inevitable!!! Hence the importance—the absolute necessity of Mnemonical training!!!
In the mind of the ordinary thinker one idea may suggest another because there is a resemblance or relationship between them—because they are strikingly opposite—because one idea was thought of at the same time as another—or because one idea immediately followed another.
A butcher's name would strike the mind, if it were "Mr. Mutton."
A bad man would seem wrongly named, if he were "Mr. Good."
A neighbour's child, a mother knows, is just the age of "Freddy."
The Fire of London lit the streets, but just swept by the Plague.
Mnemonics affords the most powerful auxiliaries which human ingenuity can devise for rendering the foregoing principles available. Mnemonical association is a much more rapid means of acquiring knowledge than ordinary repetition.
Many who have not thoroughly studied the laws of mind, which regulate the reproduction of ideas, have altogether ridiculed this opinion, having jumped at the conclusion that it must take much longer to think than to utter, whereas, a thousand unmeaning utterances may produce less desirable results than one instantaneous association. It is astonishing with what readiness ideas may be combined, when a proper mode of operation is adopted. In fact, they may be united " as quick as thought," which is the climax of rapidity.
Is slow in its career;
Thought in an instant girds the earth,
Or darts from sphere to sphere!
When the mind cannot easily pass directly from one idea to another, as in the illustrations given, the skilful introduction of a third idea, or of two or more other ideas, may insure our success. The Science of Memory shows how this may be best accomplished; and we should often feel indebted to it, if for that alone.
The friendly swain we thank
Who leads us to some stepping-stones,
Or welcome rustic plank.
And you will soon be taught
To find ideal stepping-stones
To cross the stream of thought!
It is sometimes urged that the Science is to be condemned, because it affords means of communication where Nature has produced isolation; but we cannot admit this to be a valid objection.
By rivers, rocks, and ridges,—
Nature's own work,—but who blames Art
For here supplying bridges?
Some who have favoured the world with their ideas upon Memory have been most emphatic in the recommendation that everything artificial should be dispensed with; but it is a great question whether they could be thoroughly consistent in a civilized community. In fact, the more this suggestion is thought about, the more ridiculous does it appear.
That it would not be bad
To put away Art's gay attire,
And be by Nature clad;
Would think it was a pity,
To find there was not any one
Inclined for this new ditty? (nudity ?)
Some sapiently inquire, "Who with proper sight would put on glasses?" We ask another question, "Who that wished to scan the horizon, would not like to use a telescope?" Others, with perfect gravity, express the opinion that it is presumptuous thus to attempt to improve upon Nature by means of Art—that we are endowed with a certain amount of power of brain, with which it is our duty to be content. To this we reply:—
Yet man with Art must plough it!
There are two kinds of ideas—those which are easy to carry in the mind, and those which are difficult. The Science of Memory supplies us with aids by which we may represent several difficult ideas by means of one easy one—in the same way that we may have twelve clumsy penny-pieces represented by one small shilling; or twenty shillings represented by one sovereign. It is said by some, that it may be all very well for persons with weak memories to adopt such methods, but that those whose retentive faculties are strong, would do better without them That this is an error, must be obvious.
Were lying in a heap;
And all that you could carry,
You were told that you might keep;
But think it wise and proper,
To leave the other coins, if strong,
And load yourself with copper?
The objection that the Mnemonical Method is a round-about way of acquiring knowledge, is answered by its being nevertheless the best way!
One straight, unsafe, and hilly;
To choose the shorter way for speed,
Is really very silly!
It is supposed by some that those only who are endowed with considerable intellect can succeed with the Science, as they imagine that the aids which produce such great results must be in themselves extremely formidable; but it is not so, nor is this strange.
Sets vast machines in motion;
And, aided by a compass small,
We cross the trackless ocean.
Many are under the delusion that the use of system necessarily involves additional mental effort; contending that, "not only must the required facts be remembered, but the Mnemonics also." Those who are thus impressed may, perhaps, find the little problem satisfactorily solved below:
A set of joiners' tools a man
Once purchased, quite complete;
And as he homeward went, his load
Got scattered in the street.
"Why don't you get a barrow, man?"
Asked one, who chanced to pass;
Our friend replied, with emphasis,
"Because I'm not an ass!"
Then softening down, he said, "As 'tis,
I don't know what to do;
So 'twould be mad to bore myself
With tools and barrow too!"
MORAL.
In studying, take this advice,
Ere ready, do not start;
But, as a vehicle for thought,
Use the MNEMONIC (C)ART!
If you ask "How long has Mnemonics been known?" I reply—
The principles are very old—
Now don't say that I mad am,
When I assert I've little doubt
The very first man had 'em! (Adam.)
His partner must have used them too,
I verily believe;
And not a little, now and then,
But morning, noon, and Eve.
But the question thus flippantly treated deserves a more serious answer. I have given this subject special study, and should you desire to view Mnemonics in a graver light than that which is here thrown upon it, let me refer you to my little book, "The Divine Origin of Mnemonics," in which attention is directed to some very important, palpable, and startling facts, and the principles here expounded are further unfolded. Strange to say, the biblical facts to which I have therein alluded have been overlooked, and the Greek poet Simonides is generally said to be "the inventor of Mnemonics." That he especially availed himself of certain Mnemonical principles there is no doubt. His plan was based on Local Memory; he deposited thoughts in places, and his system of associating ideas with the various parts of rooms and buildings became a favourite study and pastime of the Greeks and Romans, and was a practice in which they greatly excelled. Many of the most celebrated ancient orators used Mnemonics practically with great success, and extolled it very highly. Our habit of saying "in the first place," "in the second place," and so forth, is supposed by some to have originated in this Local, or as it is sometimes termed "Topical" Memory of the ancients.
From Adam downwards Mnemonics has been more or less generally in use. The Israelites, the Egyptians, and every race and tribe of human beings, even the most untutored and degraded, until now have shown some signs of recognising its principles.
There are many records of the wonderful efficiency of various systems of Mnemonics, and of the seeming marvels performed by those who used them. Towards the close of the sixteenth century, Lambert Schenkel, a Mnemonist of great continental renown, was accused of holding communication with the devil; but as the case was not quite clear, he fortunately, though but very narrowly, escaped the horrors of the Inquisition. Had many of my pupils lived in those days they would have been sacrificed to the superstition of the age, and no mistake (miss stake!).
Two modern systems are particularly worthy of notice,—"Memoria Technica," published in 1730, by the Rev. Dr. Richard Grey, rector of Hinton, Devon-shire; and the "Art of Memory," by a German, M. Gregor Von Feinaigle, of Baden, who lectured upon the subject in France and England in 1807-8, and who published his system in 1812. Grey's system consists principally in remembering sounds; Feinaigle's in remembering ideas. Like the plan of Simonides, both these systems have been highly extolled, and have also been much abused by those who did not understand them. Undoubtedly they were very defective, but they deserved far better treatment than that which they too frequently received.
Although the Science of Mnemonics was so popular with the ancients, yet, at the present day, there are thousands who have never even heard of it; while many more may have just seen the name, but perhaps being puzzled how to pronounce it, have called it "some outlandish stuff," or "some newfangled rubbish," and have thought no more about it. To those who have studied the subject thoroughly, and have long experienced the many advantages derivable from the system, it is sometimes amusing to observe how ready the superficial critic will depreciate and condemn that which is said in its favour.
The school to which I once belonged
Was sporting in the fields one day,
When, to our great discomfiture,
A passing shower stopped our play;
And off we scampered, helter-skelter,
Into a neighbouring barn for shelter.
Two red-faced little farming boys
Seemed much amused with all that passed,
And on their chattering visitors,
Their wondering eyes they often cast;
At length, one, with a knowing leer,
Said, "I zay, Jack, doant um tork quear!"
I smiled, and said within myself,
"How oft we're like this little lad,
Denouncing, in our ignorance,
What others say, as being bad,
When in ourselves the error lies,
And not in those we criticise!"