Secrets of Mental Supremacy, by W. R. C. Latson, is an excellent self-improvement book that contains a series of simple, step-by step instructions and exercises to assist you in improving your mental faculties as well as in acquiring complete control over the mind. Here, Latson talks about the thinking process, which involves perception, memory, association of memories, judgment, and will, and guarantees that with constant dedication we could gain phenomenal improvement. Secrets of Mental Supremacy is an incredible piece of literature which has helped me improve my concentration and focus, and I know that it could be of great help to you too.

–Harrison

SECRETS OF MENTAL SUPREMACY

By W. R. C. Latson

INTRODUCTION

My mind to me a kingdom is. –Epictetus.

 

The mind’s the measure of the man. –Watts.

 

As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.–Jesus.

 

The man does not contain the mind: the mind contains the man. –Socrates.

 

In the universe there is nothing great but man: in the man there is nothing great but mind. –Aristotle.

 

IN the brief articles which will make up this series my object will be to present in the shortest, plainest, and most practical manner methods which, in my experience and that of many others who have been more or less under my influence, have seemed to be conducive to increased mental efficiency.

It is said that there is no royal road to learning; and while in a sense this is true, it is also true that, in all things, even in mind training, there is a right way and a wrong way–or rather there is one right way, and there are a thousand wrong ways.

Now, after trying, it seems to me, most of the wrong ways, I have found what I believe to be the right way; and in these articles I shall try to expound it to you. You need not expect an essay on psychology or a series of dissertations upon the “faculties of the mind”; for there will be nothing of the kind. On the other hand, I shall, so far as possible, avoid text-book terms and the text-book tone–both of which are quite absurd and quite futile. I shall try to give you bare facts. I shall try to give you plain directions, stripped of all verbal and pseudo-scientific flummery, for the acquisition of mental activity and mental supremacy.

W. R. C. Latson, M.D.

 

New York City.

 

MIND AND ITS MATERIAL

CHAPTER 1

 

FIRST of all, before you are able to think at all, you must have something to think about. You must have some mental “stock in trade.” And this mental stock in trade you can gain only through the senses. The appearance of a tree, the roar of the ocean, the odor of a rose, the taste of an orange, the sensation you experience in handling a piece of satin–all these are so much material helping to form your stock of mental images–”the content of the consciousness,” as the scholastic psychologists call it.

Now, all these millions and millions of facts which make up our mental stock in trade–the material of thought are gained through the senses, sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and so on.

Value of the Perceptions.

 

In a recent article in a leading French scientific journal, a well-known scientist, Dr. A. Peres, has presented some ideas which are so thoroughly in accord with my own observations extending over many years, that I yield to the temptation to quote. Dr. Peres first makes note of modern degeneracy in this respect. I append a free translation of a few extracts which seem to me especially worthy of attention:-

“‘Have we naught but arms and legs? Have we not also eyes and ears?

And are not these latter organs necessary to the use of the former? Exercise then not the muscles only, but the senses that control them.’ Thus was a celebrated philosopher wont to express himself. Nevertheless when we measure acuteness of vision we find that it is becoming weaker; hardness of hearing is on the increase; we suffer daily from lack of skill in workmen, in domestics, in ourselves; as to taste and smell, they are used up–thus do the inevitable laws of atavism act.

“The trouble is that, despite Rousseau’s objurgating, we have always paid too little attention to the hygiene and education of the senses, giving all our care to the development of physical strength and vigor; so that the general term ‘physical education‘ finally has assumed the restricted meaning of ‘muscular education.’

“The senses, which put us in contact with exterior objects, have nevertheless a primordial importance. … So great is their value that it is the interest and even the duty of man to preserve them as a treasure, and not to do anything which might derange their wonderful mechanism.”

The length and exactness of the sight, the skill and sureness of the hand, the delicacy of the hearing, are of value to artist and artisan alike by the perfection and rapidity of work that they insure. Nothing embarrasses a man so trained; he is, so to speak, ready for anything. His cultivated senses have become for him tools of universal use. The more perfect his sensations, the more justness and clearness do his ideas acquire. The education of the senses is the primary form of intellectual education.

“The influence of training on the senses is easily seen. The adroit marksman never misses his aim; the savage perceives and recognizes the slightest rustling; certain blind persons know colors by touch; the precision of jugglers is surprising; the gourmet recognizes the quality of a wine among a thousand others; odor is with chemists one of the most sensitive reactions.

“The senses operate in two ways, either passively, when the organ, solely from the fact that it is situated on the surface of the body, and independently of the will, is acted upon by exterior bodies; or actively, when the organ, directed and excited by the will, goes, so to speak, in advance of the body to receive the impression. Passively, we see, hear, touch, smell; actively, we observe, listen, feel, sniff. By the effect of the attention and by arranging our organs in certain ways, our impressions become more intense. . . .

“The impressions made by exterior objects on the sense-organs, the nerves and the brain, are followed by certain mental operations. These two things are often confounded. We are in the habit of saying that our senses often deceive us; it would be more just to recognize that we do not always interpret correctly the data that they furnish us. The art of interpretation may be learned. . . .

“The intuitive, concrete form given nowadays to education contributes to the training of the senses by developing attention, the habit of observation; but this does not suffice. To perfect the senses and make each of them, in its own perceptions, acquire all possible force and precision, they must be subjected to special exercises, appropriate and graded. A new gymnastic must thus be created in all its details.”

There are, of course, a certain number of “specific” or racial impressions and tendencies that come down through what is called heredity; but these are merely instincts and impulses, and while they have an influence upon the person’s character and habits of thought, they do not, in themselves, provide actual material for thought.

If you can imagine a person who was blind and deaf, who could not smell or taste or feel or move; he would be quite unable to think, for he would have in his mind nothing about which to think. The material of thought, the mental stock in trade, is gained through the senses; and in any rational effort to train the mind we must begin by training the senses–the perceptions, as they are more accurately called,–so that we may see, hear, smell, taste, and feel with more precision and keenness. Trained perceptions are the very foundation of all mental power.

Our system of training for mental supremacy will begin, then, with a brief study of the perceptions, or senses, and the methods by which we may gain the power of seeing more clearly, listening more intently, of feeling more delicately, and, in general, of developing the perceptive powers.

MEMORY AND ITS USES

CHAPTER 1 CONTINUED…

 

But the perceptions are of little value unless we remember what we have perceived. You may have read all the wise books ever written, you may have traveled the wide world over; you may have had all kinds of interesting and unusual experiences; but–unless you can remember what you have read, what you have seen, and what you have done –you will have no real use of it all. You will have gained no mental “stock in trade,” no material by the employment of which you may hope to achieve mental supremacy. It will be necessary, then, for us to study not only methods of developing power of perception, but the means by which perception may be retained and recalled at will.

The Power of Associating Memories.

 

But the memory itself is not enough. I have known people of unusual powers of memory who could not talk, write, or think well–who were like “the bookful blockhead, ignorantly read, with loads of learned humor in his head”; but who, in spite of all their experience and their recollection of it, had nothing to write, nothing to say.

So–memory is not enough. One must have the power of putting memories together–of analyzing, comparing, contrasting, and associating memories–until the entire mass of memories, which form the “content of the consciousness,” is wrought into one splendid, homogeneous whole–a mass of images, each one of which is intimately connected with many others, and all of which are under instant command of the central sovereign— the will.

It will be necessary, then, to give special attention to this most important matter of analyzing, comparing, and grouping mental images. Of all the activities of the mind this faculty, called “the power of association,” is the one most directly conducive to what is generally called “a brilliant mind.”

Imagination and Judgment.

 

The possession of trained perceptions, of a retentive memory and great powers of association are of enormous value; but only when combined with another faculty–imagination; and imagination is merely the power of recombining certain memories in such a fashion that the combination is new. Imagination is a faculty of the highest possible importance. Every splendid achievement, every invention, every business enterprise, every great poem, or book or picture, has been not only conceived but completed in imagination before it became actualized in fact.

And then it is necessary to be able to compare the mental pictures, gathered by the perceptions, remembered and classified by memory and association, so as to determine the relation of these memories to each other and their application to other ideas or mental images. And this valuable faculty of the mind is called judgment.

Necessity for Concentration.

 

Now, in order to do well in any one of the things of which I have been writing, it is necessary that the entire mind should be engaged upon that one thing. To do anything well one must do only that thing at that time. And this is particularly true of the action of the mind. The focusing of the entire power of the mind upon one thing is commonly known as concentration or “the power of attention.”

So essential is this power of concentrating the entire mind upon the task in hand that it is not too much to say that no great degree of mental power can ever be gained without concentration. So in our study of the practical methods by which mental supremacy may be achieved, we shall pay special attention to the development of this invaluable faculty.

But in order to do anything with the mind (or with the body either, for that matter) one must choose, must wish to do that thing. And this choice, this decision to do something, is called the will. The power to choose quickly and decisively and to act vigorously upon that choice is a rather rare thing. He who has that power is said to have a strong will.

This question of will and its development is most important. The great difference between men – between strong men and weaklings, between the honored and the disregarded, between the masters and the serfs—is will. A man of strong, unfaltering will is sure to succeed even if his abilities are mediocre; but a man of weak will, no matter what his abilities, is not likely to achieve either success or honor among men.

As a great psychologist has said: “The education of the will is really of far greater importance than that of the intellect.” And again: “Without this [will] there can be neither independence, nor firmness, nor individuality of character.” Ik Marvel says: “Resolve is what makes a man manifest. . . . Will makes men giants.”

The will, like any other mental faculty, may be highly developed by training; and this, with many practical exercises, also we will take up in its proper place.

Importance of the Social Faculties.

 

The above brief outline of the mental powers embraces those which any one may develop and use without help from or association with other people. The highest powers of the mind, however, or at any rate, the most impressive powers of the mind, can be developed only through contact with others–through social intercourse.

A man might have miraculously keen perceptions, perfect memory, splendid imagination, infallible judgment, indomitable will–he might have all of these; and yet he would miss the rewards of mental supremacy unless he were capable of dealing with other people–unless he were socially accomplished.

In our efforts to train the powers of the mind, therefore, it will be necessary to make a study of some of the principles affecting our relations with other people; and so we shall in the same practical and straightforward way discuss sympathy, adaptability, and self-command. The important question of verbal expression as applied to both speech and writing will also receive special attention.

Mental Action a Unit.

 

In conclusion you must not forget that, although I speak of the various mental acts as if they were separate, this is done only for convenience of discussion and description. As a matter of fact the mind is one thing—a unit. All the various “faculties” act together constantly. One cannot remember what an oak tree looks like unless he has carefully observed an oak tree. He cannot imagine an oak tree unless he remembers it. He cannot judge of the difference between an oak tree and a maple tree unless he can imagine a picture of the two side by side. And he cannot do any one of these things without attention; nor again can he concentrate his attention without an act of will.

So we see that the various acts of the mind, perception, memory, imagination, judgment, attention, and will, are inextricably interdependent—and that one act involves all the rest.

Happily this makes our task all the easier and more interesting. In this series I shall begin by giving you some plain practical advice as to the development of the perceptive powers—the ability to see, hear, feel, taste, and smell more efficiently. But with every moment of practice such as I advise you will also be developing a more exact and acute memory, a finer and more expansive imagination, a greater power concentration, and a stronger will. When we come to discuss the cultivation of the will power the exercises will require the use of the perceptions, the memory, the imagination, and other faculties. So, you see, in developing the mind in any one phase of its activity you are, at the same time and by the same act, adding to the power and usefulness of the entire mind.

TRAINING OF THE PERCEPTIVE FACULTIES

CHAPTER 2

 

Man is the eyes of things.—Hindu Proverb.

 

THAT far-seeing genius, Goethe, once said that he regarded himself as the center of all phenomena, a sort of focus to which converged everything in the universe, out of which came–Goethe. He also claimed that the real standard for all things in life was simply the mass of sensations that were appreciable to the human senses.

In other words, Goethe understood perfectly the now widely recognized–and widely ignored–educational principle that all mental activity is based upon the perceptions–upon the things we see and hear and feel and taste and smell.

As well might you try to build a house without wood or bricks or stone or mortar, as to try to think without a good “stock in trade” of impressions, images, and memories gathered by the senses and the perceptions.

Blurred Mental Pictures.

 

One of the never failing marks of the common mind, the untrained, inefficient mind, is that the mental pictures it contains are confused, blurred, inexact. A person with such a mind will tell you that an auto car just passed him on the road. “Was it a big, red car?” you ask. Well, he does not quite know. It might have been red, and yet he guesses it was black; possibly it was gray. How many people were in it? Three or four or five –four, he thinks. Ask him to give you an outline of a book he has read or a play he has seen, and he is equally helpless. And so on.

Such a person is the typical inefficient. You will find thousands of these inefficients filling unimportant places in shops and offices. And even the trivial duties of such positions they are unable to perform properly. They cannot read a line of shorthand notes and be sure of its meaning; they cannot add a column of figures and be certain of the result without repeated checking’s. Such unfortunates are the “flotsam and jetsam” of the commercial world-the unfit who, in the struggle for existence, must necessarily be crowded out by those whose mental processes are more positive and more exact.

The extent to which the perceptions can be developed is almost incredible. I know personally a bank teller who can detect a counterfeit coin without a glance at it, judging only by weight, feeling, and ring. Another man of my acquaintance makes a large salary merely by his ability to judge tea through its flavor–a “tea taster.” I know an orchestra conductor who, in the full fortissimo of his sixty piece band, will detect a slight error of any one performer. I could give many other instances within my own experience of remarkable powers of trained perception.

The Perceptions Are Easily Trained.

 

For the encouragement of those who are aware that they do not get the best possible service from their senses and perceptions–that they do not see all there is to be seen, hear exactly and distinctly and so on–for the benefit of these I may say at once that the senses and perceptions are easily trained. A month or two of discipline such as I am about to describe will show most marked and gratifying development. In most cases a few months’ training is all that is necessary; for the habit of close observation is soon formed, and once formed no further thought is required. The matter takes care of itself.

The Perceptions of Children.

 

First of all, a word about the senses and perceptions of children. Just here is one of the grievous defects of our defective school system. It practically ignores the fact that the child develops, not through reasoning, but through observation and activity. The child observes everything. His senses are active and acute. Childhood is the time to accumulate observations and experiences; later they will form the material for thought and general development.

The child should be encouraged to perceive and to remember. All the methods which I am about to describe are applicable to children of less than ten years old. The more elaborate and far ranging the mass of perceptions are, memories which the child carries over from infancy and childhood into youth and adult age, the greater, other things being equal, will be his intellectual possibilities.

Most of Us Are Sensorily Starved.

 

Most of us are grossly deficient in mental images. At a test made not long ago in Boston eighty per cent, of the children had no idea what a beehive was like, over half of them had no conception of a sheep, and over nine tenths had no notion of the appearance or nature of growing wheat. Of course they knew of other things which the country bred child would not know; but fancy the loss in the imagination of one to whom the following lines arouse no vision of a pure, rustic matutinal scene:-

“The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, the swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, the cock’s shrill clarion or the echoing horn no more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.”

THE GREAT SECRET OF SENSE TRAINING

CHAPTER 2 CONTINUED…

 

The great secret of a true development of the perceptions is discrimination–the realization of differences. To the savage a sound is a sound; to the musician it is excruciating discord or exquisite harmony. To the musician a little depression in the ground, a bent twig, a turned leaf–they are nothing; to the savage they mean food, an enemy, safety, or danger. In the printed pages the unlettered boor sees only foolish black marks on white paper; but in those black marks the man of education sees that which makes his heart beat faster, his eyes swim with tears–which tells him secrets of life the clodhopper will never, never know. The differences are in the trained or untrained perceptions.

Most of the exercises which I shall describe are quite simple–many, perhaps, will seem trivial. But remember, as a great educator has said: “The . . . point in education is the power to attend to things which may be in themselves indifferent by arousing an artificial feeling of interest.”

So the first exercise is quite simple–simple, but not easy. Try it and see.

Take any object you like–a book, a pen, a pair of scissors. Lay it on the table before you. Then take pencil and paper and describe it. Simply tell what you see. Can you? I doubt it. Tell its dimensions, weight, color, form, markings, lettering, origin, uses, possibilities, shortcomings. See how fully you can write about the object. The result will probably not please you. You will find that you have not nearly the powers of expression which you supposed you possessed. But–it is good training; and with practice your powers will grow rapidly.

You can do the same thing out of doors. Look at a mountain peak, the ocean, a horse, a bird. If you think for a moment there is nothing to write about these things read up “Poem in the Valley of Chamouni,” Byron’s splendid passage beginning “Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll,” the superb poem in the book of Job describing the horse, Shelley’s “Skylark,” and so on. James Whitcomb Riley has said: “There is ever a song somewhere, my child.” And to find the material for the song it is necessary only to look with refined and educated perception–to look trying to see all the various sides, all the many phases of the object looked at.

In the same way you should study also many other natural objects–autumnal tints, frost marks, snowflakes, trees, both their general form and the shape of their leaves, all the common flowers. Last of all, and in many respects most practically important of all, make it a habit to observe closely the human face. Try to recognize and discriminate the signs of education, refinement, intellect, in the face, as distinguished from the stigmata of ignorance, coarseness, and brutality.

Another good exercise for the training of the sight is this: Procure a number of ordinary marbles, say three dozen; one dozen each of red, of white, and of blue. Then mix them together in a receptacle. Now grasp a handful of the marbles, give one glance at them and throw them back again. Then note down how many of each color there were in the hand. At first you will find this difficult. In a short time, however, you will be able to distinguish at a glance between, say, three red, five white, and seven blue–and three red, six white, and six blue—with corresponding development of the powers of perception in all other directions.

A very simple and very good exercise for the development of the faculty of sight is the following:-

Procure about a dozen white paste-board cards, say three by five inches in size. Then with a small brush or with a pen draw upon each a number of small black circles. The circles should be solid black, about one quarter inch in diameter. On the first card draw one, on the second two, and so on, until the last, on which you will make twelve. Group them so far as possible in a circle.

Now to use them: Hold the cards face downward and shuffle them. Then take up the top one, give one brief glance at it, and try to perceive how many black circles there are upon it. Don’t try to count during your brief glance. Don’t squint, scowl, or strain the eyes. Merely glance, and then try to remember and count what you saw.

At first you will probably find it difficult to discriminate between five circles and six; after a time, however, you will be able to decide instantly upon any number of circles up to fifteen, twenty or even more.

Training the Ear to Hear.

 

Few people know how to hear. Of most it might well be said “ears and they hear not.” I do not mean that in most people the organ of hearing is in any way defective, but that as a result of inattention and lack of practice they do not get clear, vivid impressions from the sounds which impinge upon their auditory apparatus.

One of the best methods of training the hearing faculty is to listen attentively to the varied sounds of the country. The humming of insects, the cry of the robin, thrush, catbird, blackbird, swallow,–all these and the many other sounds peculiar to the country should be carefully studied.

The sounds incidental to city life are less picturesque and in a sense less varied than those of the country; and yet, if we speak only of the musical advantages of the city, there alone we have material for a splendid auditory training. Concerts, the opera, social music, the phonograph, even the hand organs on the street provide opportunities for a training of the ear. These opportunities may be utilized in various ways.

One of the best and most practical, perhaps, is to habitually require of one’s self a knowledge of the melody of popular selections. How many people, not distinctly musical, know the air of the “Soldiers’ Chorus” from “Faust,” the “Toreador’s Song” from “Carmen,” or the overture to “Tannhauser”? And yet these are things that we hear every day on the street organs.

A very fine exercise for the development of the hearing faculty is merely to listen to the ticking of a watch. A method which I have found very practical and helpful is the following:-

Place the watch upon the table at which you are sitting. Now turn toward it the left ear. Can you hear it? Yes, plainly. Move a foot, two feet, three, four, from the table. Can you hear the watch? Yes. Now increase the distance, foot by foot, until you can no longer hear the watch. Now listen! listen! Concentrating the attention upon the sound until, out of the silence, or of a confusion of sounds, there comes to you the clear, rhythmical ticking of the tiny mechanism. All this time you are sitting with your left ear turned toward the watch. The same practice should, of course, be gone through with the right ear.

This exercise is valuable not only in cultivating the power of hearing, but also in developing concentration of the attention and will. It is merely another phase of the same method by which an orchestra conductor can, at will, select one instrument out of a band, and hear only that one to the exclusion of any other piece.

Training the Sense of Smell.

 

We hear much to the effect that, as an animal, man is inferior to the beasts of the field; but, like a great deal else that we hear, it is not true–at least not to any extent. The truth is that, merely as an animal, man is the masterpiece of creation. In actual strength, endurance, grace, and rapidity of motion, the best physical types of men compare favorably with any other animal of the same size and weight. This is a biological fact.

But in one respect, at least, he is distinctly inferior, and that is as regards the sense of smell. There are very few animals that are not better equipped than man in this respect.

For this inferiority there are many reasons, which we cannot discuss in this place.

I may remark, however, that in some people the sense of smell is developed to a surprising degree. I once knew a woman, well born and highly educated who, while blindfolded, could name any one of her friends who came within a foot or two of her. The same woman was also usually able to determine, by their odor, the owner-ship of articles belonging to those whom she knew well. I know another woman who can distinguish copper, brass, steel, and iron by their taste and odor. I may also add that what we call “taste” is also largely smell. The achievements of tea, coffee, tobacco, and whisky experts depend very largely upon delicacy of the olfactory sense.

A good method of training this sense is the following: Procure a number of small pasteboard or wooden boxes such as are used by druggists in the dispensing of pills or tablets. Any druggist will provide them for a trifle.

Then put into each box a small quantity of one of the following substances: cinnamon, cloves, red pepper, mustard, black pepper, ginger. A half dozen boxes are enough, selecting for them such of the above substances as are most readily procurable.

To practice this method, simply close your eyes, open a box at random and try to determine what the substance is by the odor. This method may be varied by having a number of small vials, each containing one of the fragrant oils, such as oil of cloves, wintergreen, lemon, verbena, lavender, peppermint, bergamot, nutmeg, and so on. It is a good plan also to take careful note of the distinctive odor of the various fragrant flowers so that they may afterward be recognized by the perfume which is peculiar to each.

Training for the Taste.

 

There are, in reality, only four savors or tastes: sweet, sour, bitter, and salt. As I have just remarked, what we call taste is very largely smell, or flavor. The best way to develop delicacy of the gustatory sense is to eat very simple food, and to put thereon very little or no seasoning in the form of salt, sugar, mustard, pepper, vinegar, or other condiment. Then, and then only, will one be able to appreciate the real flavor of the food. No one, for instance, who is in the habit of using pepper and other condiments, can really taste a strawberry.

In conclusion, I want to emphasize two things: first, that a training of the perceptive powers is the best possible investment one can make–even regarding the matter from its lowest view point–the monetary; second, that the exercises which I have suggested in this chapter, while they may seem very simple, almost trivial, will in every case where they are seriously practiced, add immensely not only to the powers of perception but to practical efficiency of every faculty of the mind.

MEMORY AND HOW TO DEVELOP IT

CHAPTER 3

 

Memory is accumulated genius.–James Russell Lowell.

 

Memory is the permanence of perception.–Latson.

 

THE value of any man to himself and to the world at large depends in great degree upon his memory–upon his ability to recall and to use at any desired moment the recollection of what he has seen, heard, experienced, or thought.

Memory is really the stock in trade of our mental life. Our perceptions bring to us a vast mass of experiences-things that we have seen, heard, touched, tasted, and smelled–our thoughts and experiences. But these things are valuable only when they are held in the memory. For, unless they are remembered they cannot be used. Most of us have forgotten much more than we remember. We have studied – at school, at college, at home. We have read many, many books. We have had any number of interesting and instructive conversations. We have, some of us, traveled and seen many rare and curious things. And of it all, how much is in our possession at the moment–how much is at our ready command? Not one tenth—probably not one hundredth.

Imagine the enormous loss to us. Imagine the waste of time and effort. Imagine what it would mean to you or to me if, instead of possessing a memory which preserved for us only one hundredth of our experiences, we could remember and apply at will one half, three quarters, four fifths of what we have been through.

“But that is impossible,” you say. Allow me to contradict you. There have been many cases of recollective power which prove otherwise. The most striking of these was Antonio Magliabecchi, who lived in Italy in the seventeenth century. From being a mere servant he rose until he became the librarian of Cosmo III., the Grand Duke of Turin. Magliabecchi’s memory was prodigious; nothing that he had ever seen or heard or experienced was ever lost to him. It is said that after one reading he could repeat verbatim any book in the library of his patron, who at this time owned one of the largest collections of the day.

“Impossible,” you say. Not at all. I know a man who can neither read nor write except to sign his name. He is an Irishman who began life in this country with a pick and a shovel. Today he is a man of wealth and power, financially and politically. He is a contractor, real estate operator, stock speculator, and is interested in several other lines of business. He keeps no books and employs no bookkeepers. All his values, dates, and figures are carried in his head; and at any moment he can tell to a cent how he stands with any of his business associates.

Among the ancient Greeks it was not at all unusual to find an educated patrician who could recite verbatim the entire poems of Homer–the Iliad and the Odyssey. Cyrus the Great could call by name any man of his army, numbering one million. Napoleon had power of memory almost as remarkable. Gladstone, when presenting to Parliament his yearly budget, would speak for several hours, presenting monetary details running into many million pounds without one glance at the written report lying on the table before him. Robert G. Ingersoll, that great jurist and brilliant orator, would attend a trial lasting many days without taking any notes. Yet in his speeches to the jury, lasting sometimes many hours, he never forgot or missed a point of the opposition.

And so I might go on. Scott, Milton, Shakespeare, Washington, Clay, Webster–all these were remarkable for their power of memory. In fact it is safe to say that every man who has ever attained a high place among men has been possessed of a retentive and exact memory.

So we can see that, as an asset in practical life, whether one’s ambition be literary, artistic, scientific, or merely the transferring of dollars from some one’s pocket into his own–as a practical asset, power of memory is of the highest conceivable value. A good memory will give you an incalculable advantage over others–an advantage which no other mental qualification will balance.

Memory Training Not Difficult.

 

The mind is like potter’s clay–it is easily molded. And there is no direction in which development is so easy as in the department of memory. Even a few days of practice along the lines which I shall suggest will generally make a noticeable difference, and two or three months of conscientious training will often be sufficient to metamorphose a poor, weak, and inexact memory into one that is tenacious and reliable.

The Nature of Memory.

 

In the introductory article of this series I promised you that I would not be theoretical or descriptive, but that I would make these chapters purely practical. Now, I intend to keep my word; but, in order to make what follows more intelligible and helpful, it will be well just here to stop for a moment and make a few brief statements as to the nature of memory.

In the first place, I may say at once that, in reality, there is no such thing as “the memory.” This sounds very much like an old-fashioned Irish “bull”; but it is merely a statement of sober fact. There is no memory: there are only memories. When I say that I am not merely juggling with terms; the difference is important and fundamental.

I mean just this: Memory is not, as we used to be taught many years ago, a “faculty of the soul”–a little section of the brain to be developed all by itself. Not at all. Memory is merely a term used to describe the way that certain acts or thoughts tend to remain in the mind. And every act or thought has its own separate little memory.

Some acts or thoughts we remember easily; other acts or thoughts we remember with difficulty, if at all. If some one were to describe to me the details of a case of insanity, symptoms, history, treatment, I should remember it a long time; because, as a physician,

I am interested in psychiatry. But, although I listened patiently a day or two ago to a long account of the Wall Street adventures of an acquaintance of mine, I am quite sure that I could give no intelligent account thereof, because I know little and care less about such matters. In the same way some people have good memory for names, but cannot recall faces, others can remember dates, but have no power to recollect names. And so on.

The point is just this: We remember best the things in which we have most interest, the things with which we are most familiar. The little memory of any act or thought may stick in the mind or it may not–whether it is or is not remembered depends mainly upon the amount of attention we have given to that act or that thought at the time it was occurring.

If, therefore, we would have fine powers of memory–if we desire a large supply of clear, vivid memories all under instant command, it is essential that we should pay to the thing we wish to remember strict attention and careful study. And this is really the great secret of what is called “good memory.”

In other words, a memory is simply a permanency, a recurrence, of a perception; and that memory is clear and complete just in proportion as the perception was clear and complete. If, on an introduction to a stranger, I scarcely glance at his face and pay little or no attention to the name, I am not likely to remember either the man or the name. If, on the other hand, I look closely at him and attend carefully to the name, I shall be likely to remember it, perhaps for years.

I, myself, frequently have presented to me twenty-five or thirty strangers in the course of an evening; and I am usually able afterward to recall all or nearly all of their names and faces.

This is merely the result of a habit of attention to the matter.

THE BASIC LAW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER 3 CONTINUED…

 

Now, then, based upon the principle just discussed, we may formulate our first rule for the development of memory: Study the object you wish to remember in all its phases, in all its peculiarities, in all its relations. For the time being keep every other thought out of the mind. Make the object part of yourself; and you will never forget it. I say object, but I mean, of course, anything, fact, figure, idea, principle, or plan, to all of which the same rule applies.

So much for the rule; but you would like to know exactly how to apply this rule to practical development. Well, one of the best ways I know is the following:-

You are walking down the street. A carriage passes at which you have glanced casually. After it has passed, question yourself about it. What kind of a carriage was it–landeau, barouche, brougham, or what? What was the color of the wheels? Had they rubber tires? How many horses were there? Their color? The coachman–black or white? The livery, if any? How many occupants–men or women? How dressed? Do you remember all their faces, so that if you saw them again you would know them? And so on.

By the time you have done this conscientiously on a dozen occasions you will be surprised and delighted at the improvement in your ability both to perceive and to remember; for, as I cannot reiterate too often, the two, perception and memory, are practically one.

Well, after passing the carriage and getting all the good you can out of the experience in an educational way, you will come to a shop window–the window of a toy shop, let us say. Don’t stop to look at the window; that will merely confuse you. Take one glance at it, and pass on.

Then ask yourself what you saw in the window. If practicable have a pad and pencil, and write down each article as you remember it. This is the method employed by the famous conjurer, Robert Houdin–a method by which he so trained the memory both of himself and of his young son that they were able to remember over thirty thousand questions and answers, which formed the code of their famous “second sight” act.

Another valuable method of memory training is to make it a rule every night, either before or after retiring, to review in detail the events of the day. This was the method employed by the great Edward Thurlow, lord high chancellor of Great Britain. At first his memory was so poor that he was unable to recall what he had eaten for breakfast. Eventually, however, he developed one of the most remarkable memories on record. I know of a number of cases in which this method has proven of the utmost value.

Another very simple and convenient, but at the same time very useful, method of culturing the power of recollection is the following: Take some interesting book, such as a historical work, or some attractive novel. Read a paragraph to yourself slowly and carefully. Then close the book and repeat aloud the substance of the section which you have just read. Make no attempt to repeat the passage word for word. Simply give the sense of it as you remember. It matters little whether you repeat the author’s words or use your own. After your first attempt (which is not likely to be a striking success) read the paragraph again and make a second effort to recall and express its general meaning.

When you have learned this paragraph fairly well, pass on to the next, and so on, until you come to the last paragraph on the page. Then take that page as your task, and give an account of the entire page. After practicing this way on every paragraph and every page until the end of the chapter, take the chapter as a whole and repeat it as fully and exactly as you can.

This seems like hard work. And it is, at first. But it soon becomes interesting, especially as you begin to find that, although at first you were unable to give any clear idea of a paragraph you had just read, you are soon able to recall, and to clearly express, the sense of an entire chapter without any great effort or difficulty.

This exercise trains not only the memory, but the perceptions, the will, and the powers of expression. So far as I know, it was invented by Henry Clay, in his early farm boy days, and was often quoted by him as being the method which had done most toward developing his prodigious memory and splendid oratorical ability.

A valuable variation of the above exercise is to write out at length, instead of attempting to express in spoken words, your recollection of the paragraph, the page, the chapter. For those who desire the widest development–a development of the power of expression in writing as well as in speech–I should suggest that they practice this exercise by both talking and writing their memories of the passage.

By the time you have gone over one book in this way, talking out certain passages and writing others, you will not only know that book in a way that few people ever know any book; but you will have developed added powers of attention, will power, memory, and expression, which will prove a surprise and a delight to you.

The Pictorial Faculty.

 

One of the prime secrets of memory is to develop the ability to recall before the mind a picture of the object desired –a vivid recollection of its appearance. When a schoolboy I discovered that there was no use whatever in my studying either my spelling or my geography lesson. All that was necessary was for me to pass my eye slowly down the list of words for spelling and to look at the map of the particular section we were studying. After that I could bring up before me a clear picture of any word called for or of any section of the map covering our lesson.

In questioning musicians who are able to play from memory long passages on the piano or violin, I find that in the majority of cases they remember the appearance of the page of music, and follow the notes just as if the real page were before them. This power of visualizing memories has been in some people developed to a surprising extent. The mnemosynic achievements of the Houdins and of Magliabecchi referred to above, as well as of other prodigies like the mathematical wonder, Zerah Colburn, and his prototype, Jacques Inaudie–the memory feats of these depend largely, in some cases entirely, upon the visualizing faculty.

And what is the best method of developing this power of sight memory? There are several very simple and valuable. First try this: Write out in a clear hand a list of words in column form. The list should contain at first not more than five or six words; later it may be extended to twenty or even thirty.

Now place your list of six words before you and look at it for a moment. Don’t stare or strain the eyes. Don’t try to remember the words–yet. This is the moment for observation—forgetting upon the photographic plate of the mind a clear memory-picture of the list of words. After a moment of steady gazing, cover the paper and try to remember exactly what the words were and how they looked. At first you are likely to find this difficult. Soon it will be easy to remember six–to recall the words, passing up as well as down the column. Then gradually increase the number until you can handle at least twenty-five.

A useful variation of this exercise is to use figures instead of words, arranging them at first as a square of four figures, and calling each one off while you remember its position. Here again, as soon as four is easy for you, increase the number of figures by two, until you can retain, after a single look, a clear picture of thirty-six or more figures. I have known a boy of twelve who was able to remember sixty-four figures–a square of eight figures up and eight across. He would, on request, call off first line of figures forward, third line of figures backward, line of units down, and so on–in other words, this boy could see in his mind’s eye a mental picture of those sixty-four figures that was absolutely as clear as the original had been to the physical eye.

I may add that the boy I refer to was not in any sense exceptional, save that he had become interested in the “tricks” which I taught him and his fellows. All of them are now men of notably fine memory.

The same method may be varied in other ways. For instance, letters may be substituted for the figures or words may be arranged in groups, say twelve in groups of three each, the exercise being to remember not only the word but its position in relation to the other words. So exercises for developing the power of memory can be multiplied indefinitely. Those given above, however, are more than sufficient, if properly practiced.

Union accomplishes all things.–Sophocles.

 

I have only to take up this or that to flood my soul with memories.–Mme. Deluzy.

 

The whole art of mental training is based upon the fact that any action at first executed with conscious effort becomes, in time, ub-conscious and habitual–Thompson Jay Hudson.

Within the secret chambers of the brain, the thoughts lie linked by many a mystic chain. Awake but one, and lo, what legions rise! Each stamps its image as the other dies.–COWPER.

ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS

CHAPTER 4

 

OF all the operations of the mind the one most directly conducive to mental readiness is the power of associating or grouping ideas. The man or woman in whom the power of association is well developed has a mind which may be likened to a vast skein of threads. Each thread represents an idea. And of these thread-ideas all those which are at all related are grouped together like so many threads tied in a knot; so that if you touch one of the thread-ideas you are instantly in communication with all of that group.

When ideas are grouped or associated in this orderly manner any thought coming into the mind will instantly suggest a large number of related thoughts. This means an active, an efficient, frequently a brilliant mind.

Now let us understand at once that what is commonly called “education”–that is, a mere knowledge of facts–no matter how extensive it may be, does not necessarily confer the power of associating or grouping ideas in such a manner that they are readily avail-able for purposes of speaking, writing, or thinking. Indeed I have known men of vast learning who could not talk well, who could not write well, who could not even think well. A well stored mind–that is, mere erudition, while it can be acquired only by a per-son with a good memory, does not by any means necessarily imply the power of association.

One who possesses unusual power of associating ideas is always interesting; often brilliant. His ideas are, as I have said, like threads knotted together. Each idea suggested to him calls up in his mind many related ideas. In the mind of the merely erudite man, for instance, the mention of the word “horse” will arouse few, if any, other mental pictures. In the mind, however, of the person who has the power of association the idea “horse” awakens a large number of interesting thoughts. There is the horse so superbly described in the biblical poem, Job.

There is the famous horse Bucephalus, the war charger of Alexander the Great, whom only he could ride. The person with strong power of association remembers, too, the wonderful horse, Kantara, ridden by Gautama, the Buddha. Then he thinks of the horse of Darius which, by neighing at the critical moment, caused his master to be elected king of Persia—Darius the Great. He recalls to mind the story of the great wooden horse, inside of which the Greek soldiers were smuggled into Troy, to the downfall of that city. And lastly, the man with trained powers of association will be able to tell you something about the interesting history of the horse, both before and since it was first tamed and ridden many thousands of years ago by Melizeus, King of Thessaly.

And so with any other subject you might suggest to him. In the mind of such a person every idea is intimately associated with many other more or less related ideas; and, even though his actual stock of information may be small, his mental images are so closely

connected and so quickly recalled that the practical power and usefulness of his mind is greater than in the case of another person with a larger stock of knowledge and inferior power of association.

Another great advantage of well-developed powers of association is that it is almost a preventive of forgetfulness. As I have explained in the chapter on the training of the memory, that which we fully understand, we do not, cannot, forget. Now a complete understanding of any idea is simply the result of a process of making that idea the center of a mass of associations.

If you had to leave your boat in a stream with a very rapid current you would tie the boat to the shores, not only with one rope but with several ropes running to different points on each side of the stream. And the more lines you tie the boat with and the more directions they extend in, the less likely will your boat be to escape, and the more readily can you recover it at will. The same principle applies to ideas. Each associational relation is like a tiny thread binding one particular idea to another idea; and, when we bind that one particular idea to a great many other ideas, we make sure, first, that we will not forget it, and second, that when there comes into the mind any one of the ideas with which we have associated the new idea, the new idea will immediately be drawn into the mind.

All this being true, we will be ready to appreciate the following important statement: It is necessary to get into the mind a large stock of ideas; this can be done only by perception and memory; but it is equally necessary that the ideas and memories in the mind shall be so associated or grouped that one idea instantly calls up many other related ideas. And this can be done only by developing the power of association.

How Associations Are Made.

 

And here arises the practical question: How shall I so train my mind that the ideas it contains shall be closely associated, each one with many others?

In trying to give you an intelligible answer to this question it will first be necessary to discuss briefly something of the process by which associations are formed in the mind.

Some one has said: “Thoughts are things.” Now this statement is quite meaningless unless we have a clear idea as to what is meant by the term “thing.” But let us imagine for a moment that the “thing” is something concrete, commonplace, and physical, like a brick–an ordinary building brick. For a thought may be regarded as an object, a thing, just as a brick can be studied as an object, a thing.

Now in order to make associations around anything we must first of all get a clear idea of that thing. And so we must begin by studying our brick–analyzing it. We will find that the brick has form, color, dimensions (length, breadth, thickness), weight, hardness, roughness, certain utilities and possibilities, history, money value, and so on. This process of determining the qualities peculiar to the object or idea is called analysis; and analysis is the first step essential to the formation of associations. For it should be understood that most of the ideas associated with any particular object are based, not upon that object as a whole, but upon some quality or qualities of the object.

Now having analyzed our brick we may take certain of its qualities and on that basis make associations between the brick and other objects or ideas. If we take its form we shall find that it is something like a wooden paving block, something like a book, some-thing like a cigar box. If we take the usual color of the brick-red, we note that it resembles terra cotta, the building material, that it is a shade frequently seen in wall covering and rugs and also found in the shingle stains often used on the roofs of country houses. As to the uses of the brick, we find the brick can be associated with granite, marble, and other building materials, cobble stones, wooden paving blocks, concrete, and various other substances used for pavement, and so on.

Now, in all this we have gone through four distinct processes of reasoning; and, without these four processes, no association between ideas could exist. First of all we analyzed our brick; next we extended our ideas of it, trying here and there until we found certain objects which could be associated with the brick. Lastly we noted that every other object we thought of was either like the brick in some certain particular or was entirely unlike it in every particular. These processes we may call extension, likeness, and unlikeness.

So these four processes of reasoning–analysis, extension, likeness, and unlikeness–must be gone through in order to make complete and valuable associations.

In the example just given I chose for my object a brick because the mere fact of its being a simple, prosaic, and commonplace object rendered my explanation more clear. The same process, the same treatment, however, may and, in fact, must be applied to other and more complicated ideas.

First of all we analyze the object from every standpoint and in every particular and detail. If a concrete object we study all its qualities as we did in the case of the brick. If an idea, we consider carefully all its phases. Then trace all its relations to other ideas, noting in what respect it resembles or differs from such other ideas. Then we shall have gone through the four processes–analysis, extension, likeness, and unlikeness.

To give you an instance illustrating this interesting and important method: Not long ago I was one of a number of guests at a country house. One evening when a number of us were sitting on the porch, the little daughter of our hostess approached with a dish containing some fine apples, and said to me: “Will you have an apple, Doctor?” “My dear, that is a dangerous question to ask a man,” said I. “Do you not know that all the sin and misery in the world came because a woman once asked a man to have an apple–and because he took it?”

And the child laughed and said: “Oh, I know. You mean the apple that Adam took from Eve.” Clever child!

Now my remark was made without any conscious effort of mind whatever–without any striving or deliberate action of the will. It was entirely subconscious and effortless. Afterward I amused myself by tracing out exactly what my mind had done when the child asked that question. And this is what happened: Analysis “girl–offers apple.” Out of this analysis I selected the idea “apple” and upon this based my extension. First of all I thought of the old adage “tender as the apple of the eye.”

Then in rapid succession there came into my mind memories of: the apple that William Tell is said to have shot off the head of his son; “apples of gold in pitchers of silver” mentioned in the Bible; the “apple of Sodom,” the fruit of the other tree, which is beautiful externally but filled with a kind of ashes–therefore often used as a symbol for disappointment; the apples of the Hesperian field, said to be guarded by the four mystic sisters–the Hesperides; the apple for which Paris ran his race.

Now all of these ideas, found by extension of the original idea “apple,” were appropriate; but none seemed quite to fit. Then came the thought of the story of Eve and her proffer of the “apple” to Adam. This exactly fitted the occasion. And hence the reply.

In this instance also you can easily trace the processes–analysis, extension, seeking resemblances or likenesses, and discarding ideas less appropriate or unlike. And do not forget that, in the mind that is even fairly well trained, these pictures flash up with incredible rapidity. I know that in my own mind, as in the instance just cited, six or seven pictures will often occur, and I will select the one which it seems appropriate to mention, within the few seconds that ordinarily intervene between a remark and the reply to it.

ASSOCIATION AND MEMORY

CHAPTER 4 CONTINUED…

 

In an earlier paragraph I told you that proper association of ideas practically insured power of memory. Let me now try to give you some notion of how this principle of mental activity can be utilized.

Let us take a simple instance. Epictetus says: “My mind to me a kingdom is.” Now, first of all, we consider this splendid utterance until we thoroughly understand and appreciate it. That is good, but it is not enough. We desire to possess this sentence—to make it a part of our mental stock in trade, so that we can use it at appropriate times in public speaking, in writing or in conversation. How shall we do this? Well, we have really four ideas in the quotation: the mind, a kingdom, contentment (implied), and the personality of the man, Epictetus, who wrote the sentence.

Let us first learn something of Epictetus. Let us analyze his character and place a mental picture of him in the midst of a network of associations which will make that picture of Epictetus our own forever. We find the following points for association: A slave–became free–great philosopher–blameless life–banished–friend of Adrian and Marcus Aurelius.

So we may associate the picture of Epictetus with the following ideas:

slaves who were great men; great philosophers who were banished; men of humble origin who became friends of kings; Adrian and Marcus Aurelius–any one of these will almost certainly suggest to us the idea, the mental picture, of Epictetus.

Now to return to Epictetus’ sentence: The three ideas, kingdom, mind, contentment, should each be dwelt on for a moment in this wise: Kingdom, a place of vast extent, un-limited resources, boundless possibilities, infinite powers, much to explore, much to conquer. And to Epictetus, his mind was like a kingdom; and he was content. After the idea of a kingdom of great extent, take up the thought of the mind and its possibilities.

Dwell on this until you see how, to a man of intellect, the mind is really