The Science of Memory Fully Expounded/Introduction

The subject to which this treatise is devoted is of such manifest importance in all the operations of the mind, that from the remotest ages it has attracted the attention of the wisest philosophers. Indeed, it would have been singular if those ponderous intellects of the ancient world had failed to recognize how greatly the mind is indebted for its fertility and beauty to the strength of the memory. Their keen eyes early observed it, and they bestowed much attention to the investigation of this faculty; and, ​finding its powers more limited than their requirements, they formed many contrivances for its assistance. The discovery of the first principles of the art is usually ascribed to Simonides, a poet of the Isle of Ceos, who flourished about five hundred and thirty years before Christ; but the manner of it that is handed down to us is so purely mythological and incredible, that it is unnecessary relating it here. However, under whatever circumstances they first appeared to his mind, to this early philosopher seems undoubtedly due the honour of originating the first system of Mnemonies, or a systematised plan for assisting the memory by means of a local fixation of the ideas. From his time the art gradually acquired popularity, and was regularly cultivated by the majority of the great philosophers and their disciples who succeeded him, of whom we may mention Eschylus, Socrates, Alexander the Great (in early life), Plato, Aristotle, Demosthenes, Plutarch, Seneca, Cicero, Julius Cæsar and Quintilian. The attention bestowed upon it by these, the most illustrious men of antiquity, is a sufficient testimony of the importance they attached to this faculty; and to such an extent did some of them cultivate it, that thereto they were mainly indebted for their elevation, greatness, and renown. Indeed, their wonderful memories have been the envy and the theme of admiration in all subsequent ages.

Modern philosophers, as well, have not been less ​sensible of its importance, and they have borne witness to it in most forcible terms. It is much to be regretted, however, that those whose conception of it has seemed the clearest, and whose remarks have been most particularly pertinent, should not, while possessing minds admirably adapted for the task, have prosecuted their enquiries sufficiently far as to have enabled them to have given the world a comprehensive analysis of the process of remembering, with rules adapted for universal application, and furnished such simple contrivances and suitable aids as the nature of our wants suggests. The following views of Dr. Watts on the importance of the memory are very pregnant of truth and interest:—"So necessary and so excellent a faculty is the memory, that all other abilities of the mind borrow from thence their beauty and perfection; for the other capacities of the soul are almost useless without this. To what purpose are all our labours in knowledge and wisdom, if we want memory to preserve and use what we have acquired? What signify all other intellectual and spiritual improvements, if they are lost as soon as they are obtained? It is memory alone that enriches the mind, by preserving what our labour and industry daily collect. In a word, there can be neither knowledge, nor arts, nor sciences, without memory; nor can there be any improvements in mankind in virtue or morals, or the practice of religion, without the assistance and influence of this ​power. Without memory the soul of man would be but a poor, destitute, naked being, with an everlasting blank spread over it, except the fleeting ideas of the present moment."^[1] The eloquent Robert Hall, in speaking of it, calls it "a power that can make amends for the speed of time, in causing him to leave behind him those things which else he would carry away as if they had not been."

The penetrating Dugald Stewart says, it is "a faculty which is obviously the great foundation of all intellectual improvement, and without which no advantage could be derived from the most enlarged experience."

Dr. Johnson also felt its great importance, and has thus alluded to it:—"Memory is the purveyor of reason, the power which places those images before the mind upon which the judgment is to be exercised, and which treasures up the determinations that are once passed as the rules of future action, or grounds of subsequent conclusions." Again:—"We owe to memory not only the increase of our knowledge, and our progress in rational enquiries, but many other intellectual pleasures."^[2]

The great Locke, in his Human Understanding, observes of it that, "It is of so great moment that, where it is wanting, all the rest of our faculties are ​in a great measure useless; and we, in our thoughts, reasonings and knowledge, could not proceed beyond present objects, were it not for the assistance of our memories."

To superadd anything to these just and eloquent views of its importance, would seem impossible and unnecessary. Should we, however, endeavour to test the accuracy of these assertions by tracing the work-ings of the memory in the various operations of our own minds, we shall be surprised to find how entirely we are dependent on its resources, and must acknow-ledge that these philosophers have in nowise exag-gerated its value. We shall not fail at once to re-cognize that it is the parent of all our experience, the source of fertility to the mind, whence spring all its beauties; that by it all our plans, purposes, desires, thoughts and reflections, are directed and governed; and further, that the tenaciousness of the memory is the guage and the sure index of the quality and vigour of the brain, and the strength of the mind.

Convinced, then, of its paramount importance, it would seem a duty on the part of all rightly constituted minds, to make its practical cultivation a fixed habit, and a subject of constant attention; but to accomplish this thoroughly and satisfactorily it can only be done in a systematic manner, and on scientific principles.

To this end is primarily required a knowledge of ​the laws which regulate the mind, and also those that govern the joining of ideas with each other.

It is useless to attempt to cultivate it in the popular fashion, and on the plan usually pursued at schools,—that of repeating things over sufficiently for the tongue to become familiar with them, with little regard to their import, precisely in the manner that parrots would be taught to say them. This plan is not only not calculated to strengthen and develop the faculties, as is often conceived, but is extremely prejudicial and deteriorative to them, and fails to accomplish the end desired, that of imprinting knowledge on the mind. The accuracy of this is confirmed by the fact that, so very little learnt or supposed to be learnt in this manner is remembered long, as immediately the lingual connection is at all destroyed the remaining portion is at once lost, and is as perfectly foreign to the mind's consciousness as if it had never been brought within its scope.

The true art of committing to the mind,—or remembering, and which will be developed in these pages, is to call into operation as much as possible those faculties on which the memory seems most deeply to depend, namely, observation and reflection; and, as must be obvious to all, the more thoroughly these are exercised, the more sagaciously they are called into operation in committing knowledge to the mind, so much the greater certainty there is of its being treasured up for future use, and the smaller ​the possibility of the connection or chain of ideas being broken.

Let us now enquire into what we understand by a good memory; and with that view, we must see what are its manifestations in those that we allow to possess it. We will firstly take the case of such a person in reading a book,—suppose cither a novel, or a volume of travels, which forms of reading are the easiest of remembrance. It will be seen at the conclusion of the novel that he will be able with tolerable accuracy to relate its opening, the dramatis personæ, as they are gradually unfolded and described, the plots and counterplots, and the chief incidents in the development of the story,—at times even with minute circumstantiality; but only in proportion as he is careful to preserve the exact sequence of the occurrences, stayed the attention to comprehend them fully, and allowed them to be vividly pictured before the mind. The readiness with which he will thus recapitulate them is in great measure attributable to the fact of his interest having been excited, and his eager attention wholly concentrated on the subject.

But should you try this person at the end of a week or two, it will be found that the impressions have begun to fade before the mind, and some of the minor details, overlooked, or difficult to recall. At the end of a month this will be more so, and a year hence only a few of the chief ideas will be preserved.

​With regard to the volume of travels, the case will be much the same, only different in that the interest not being so highly raised, the process of reading is not so rapid, and the mind is thereby allowed a longer time to comprehend the various persons, places, scenes and incidents narrated, whereby what is lost in intensity of interest is more than compensated by plainer recognition and firmer impressions, and the probability thus ensue of a longer remembrance.

The same person, after hearing a sermon or a lecture, would be able to relate the substance of each, by carefully observing the salient points, noting the mutual dependence and propriety of the parts, and clearly realizing the whole. But it will be поticed, that while the impressions are recent and fresh, he will be able with tolerable accuracy to reproduce what he has heard, yet, as in the previous instances, these will specdily fade by reason of subsequent diversions of the mind, and further and newer impressions; so that soon all that remains will be, as before, a few of the most interesting or striking ideas; while these latter again will be liable to the same evanishment from the mind's power of recollection, according to the strength of the impressions.

Hence we find, that whatever may be a person's natural powers, the majority of the impressions or ideas made on his mind are not sufficiently strong to be for any length of time recallable, and even the more striking ones,—those that seem most deeply ​engraven, gradually disappear also from the mind's command.

The instances we have chosen are in nowise peculiar; for all knowledge, and everything that comes under the cognizance of the mind, is amenable to the same laws, whether in the feeble child or the powerful-minded adult, to the same tendency to fade away from the memory, only varying in degree according to the nature of the ideas, the circumstances under which the impressions are produced, and the constitution of the person's mind. Therefore, to attempt to stamp permanently on the mind any idea or train of ideas, would be useless and absurd, as in opposition to the laws by which it is governed in its present state.

A good memory, then, as usually understood by the expression, seems to consist mainly in retaining the purport, or the leading ideas, and a fair proportion of the details of any subject brought before the mind, as long as under the most favourable circumstances the ideas can be commanded; and to obtain this power would satisfy the wishes and be the utmost of what the majority of persons would require. The facility and certainty with which this may be done will be made apparent in the future pages. Again: propositions involving numbers present to the mind in remembering difficulties at times quite insurmountable, as the experience of all will testify; but the means here provided will in practice ​be found to deprive them of all obstacles to easy acquirement. As we find that the length of time anything is at the disposition of the mind, depends exclusively on the impression originally produced and the mind's familiarity with it, whatever therefore it is wished constantly to preserve at the power of the recollection should be occasionally reverted to, to retouch, as it were, the impression, and renew the mind's familiarity with it. The strength of the impressions produced is dependent in a very great measure on the degree of attention concentrated at the time, and the interest that is created in the mind. What we term throwing interest into a subject is only another expression for giving to it, or having elicited, undivided and forcible attention; so that the greater the power we can exert of giving complete attention to anything, the clearer and deeper will be the impressions that afterwards remain. Hence we see that the art of memory may to some extent be said to consist of the art of attention.

In the effort of remembrance, one frequent cause that things cannot be recalled to the mind is the inability to concentrate it sufficiently to view those various circumstances with which they are connected, and which would at once recall them; and this is borne out by the fact that, often something we wish to remember we find we cannot, and not uncommonly infer that it has completely passed away, ​when subsequently some trivial circumstance with which it has been connected immediately or inferentially, or to which it may bear some analogy, will bring it back again distinctly, to our complete surprise.

In the consideration of a subject, the more undivided the attention, the more completely the mind is concentrated on it, and the greater our vigilance to prevent its being diverted by any extraneous circumstances or thoughts,—of which it is very susceptible,—so much the keener will necessarily be the perception of it, the better the comprehension of it, and the greater the certainty of its being at hand when required to be recalled. This power of complete concentration, which is so very valuable in the economy of the mind, and which pertains to so few from the rarity with which it is practised, should be maintained as often, and as much as possible, until it becomes an acquired habit. It will strengthen the mind and the brain, render mental pursuits and recreations more exquisitely pleasing and profitable, and add multifold power to the faculty of remembrance.

The power of concentration is in great measure dependent on the strength of the brain to support it, though by cultivation it may be greatly increased; but unfortunately the occupations, pastimes, and even habits of the present day are more calculated than they formerly were to weaken it, and its cor​responding effect on society is manifest in numerous ways.

The clearness with which ideas are apprehended depends on the brain being fresh, and free from all that can tend to becloud it or prevent its activity, as in a state of bodily or mental fatigue, or immediately subsequent to a repast; but this will be no guarantee that they will be long retained. The clearness of their perception will tend to a lively impression of the same, but the strength and depth of the impressions rest, as we have seen, on the nature of the ideas, the conditions under which they are apprehended, and the vigour of the brain to receive them.

If we examine, we shall find that the operation of the mind in apprehending a subject with one person may be, and often is, much dissimilar from that in another, and this arises from the difference in the constitution and calibre of mental organizations, and the different degrees in which people possess the observing and reflective facultics. One person will, by means of the observing faculties, remember a subject with great accuracy, by noting carefully each part as it succeeds another, and what pertains to each; while another grasps the whole more completely through a greater intervention of the reasoning faculties, apprehends clearly the relationship of the parts, and the propriety or infelicity of cach, and reproduces it more immediately by the exercise ​of these faculties. Here the wisdom and goodness of Providence are conspicuously manifest in the arrangement of the faculties, so, that where one may prove deficient or insufficiently operative, another will come to the rescue; what one lacks. another will in some measure supply, and the end be accomplished for us through the instrumentality of differing faculties. Indeed, we shall find usually, that those who possess the reasoning powers to a great extent are more or less deficient in those of observation, and those who are endowed with the faculties of observation strongly and prominently lack in some proportion those of reflection.

Many believe that when any idea or train of ideas cannot be remembered or brought back to consciousness, it has necessarily wholly passed away from the mind's retention. Now, there is no valid reason to believe that any idea or impression of which any mind has been conscious, has, or ever will, become thoroughly effaced from it, though the link that connects it with the power of recollection may for a time be dissevered. It would seem that Providence foresaw it would not be well, or to his advantage, that man in his present condition should have a permanent recollection of those things that come under his cognisance, therefore He only allowed him this power to a limited extent, proportionate to his requirements and his other faculties. So, therefore, we may justly believe that in a more elevated and a ​purer state this faculty will be perfected, and all that now seems wholly to have passed away, or merged into Cimmerian obscurity, will then burst forth and unfold itself to his consciousness, as the landscape to the eyes of the traveller, when the morning mists are lifted by the rising solstice. Indeed, we may reasonably infer that this faculty which pertains to man on earth, at best only corresponding with his other limited powers, in a higher state of existence, when the ethereal part, his mind, himself, is rid of all those things now incident to his mortality, which becloud, harass, and impede its progress, will be exceedingly active, and with a clearness, freshness, and strength, of which now we cannot even form a remote conception; and that during the countless ages of futurity, and unto all time, the ideas and impressions of childhood, adolescence, youth, manhood, maturity, and old age, the mind will be able to recall with the freshness of recent reception.

We shall now make a few psychological enquiries, in order to understand more fully the nature of the memory, and its connection with the other faculties of the mind; then glance at those laws which govern the body, the observance of which in a greater or lesser degree produces corresponding effects on the brain, and influences accordingly its power and condition in the reception or rendition of ideas. We will then investigate the nature of ideas, and the ​laws under which they associate, and ascertain the principles on which to produce lively and deep impressions, from a just observation and appreciation of the circumstances and relations under which such are produced naturally.