Читать книгу THE POWER OF MIND - William Walker Atkinson - Страница 34

Chapter III.
Acquiring Impressions.

Оглавление

Table of Content

Treating of the laws governing the acquiring of impressions—How impressions may be clearly received and retained—The difference between voluntary attention and involuntary attention—How sense impressions are received—How the senses may be trained to readily receive and store away impressions—The necessity of careful observation, etc., etc., etc.—Numerous illustrations are given showing the wonderful degree of perception, observation and memory attained by persons in all ages and countries, by careful and intelligent practice—Remarkable instances and interesting anecdotes are given to illustrate the subject discussed in this chapter.

AS WE have explained in a preceding chapter, the subconscious function of the mind receives every impression presented to it, and stores it away in its enormous storehouse. But there is a very great difference in the nature of the impressions received. Some are very vivid and strong; others fairly so; and others very faint and indistinct. The strength of the impression depends upon the interest bestowed upon it by the mind at the time of its occurrence, and the amount of voluntary attention bestowed upon it. A thing of interest, or a thing to which one has given attention, registers an impression much stronger than one exciting little or no interest or attention, and the record is much more easily recalled when it is needed.

Adhering to our illustration of the sub­conscious store­house, we may say that the attention given to a thing reaching the mind through the medium of the senses determines the size and shape of the thing to be stored away. And the interest awakened at the time of the impression gives the color to the impression. Remember this: The attention determines the size; the interest determines the color.

When one wishes to bring to light an article stored away in the storehouse, he finds it much easier to find a large article than a small one—much easier to locate one of a fiery red color than one of a neutral tint. This is true whether the goods are stored away carefully and systematically, or carelessly and without order. The careful and orderly keeping of stock, of course, greatly facilitates the finding of a desired article, but the size and color make the thing itself more conspicuous.

Frequent recalling or handling the article not only tends to acquaint the storekeeper with the location of the article, but also adds to its size and color, as each time it is brought out, a certain amount of attention and interest is bestowed upon it. Attention has been defined as “the focusing of consciousness.” Consciousness may spread itself over a number of objects, just as the sun spreads its rays over countless things, or it may be focused upon a particular object, just as the rays of the sun may be concentrated, by the means of a glass, upon a single point. It is readily seen that the degree of attention is the measure of the impression made upon our sub­conscious mentality.

Attention has been divided by psychologists into two classes, i. e., involuntary and voluntary. The involuntary attention is that which is focused with a minimum of effort, or with apparently no effort at all on the part of the Will. Voluntary attention is that which is focused by an effort of the Will. The lower animals and undeveloped man have little or no voluntary attention, but the involuntary attention is there in full force. Developed man manifests a high degree of voluntary attention, the faculty of developing the same seeming to be one of the great differences between Man and the lower animals, the degree of voluntary attention indicating the stage of development of the man. Many men scarcely progress further than the border line of voluntary attention.

Involuntary attention is the birthright of the lower animal and man, in varying degrees. Voluntary attention is the result of development of the Will. In the lower animals, young children and undeveloped man, an object must be interesting to hold the attention for more than a moment. The developed man is able by an effort of the Will to direct his attention to an uninteresting object, and hold it there until he has conveyed to his mind the desired information regarding it. And he, likewise, is able to turn his attention from a most interesting object to one that is dull and uninteresting, all by the power of his Will. It is true that the developed man finds something of interest in nearly every object or subject, which renders it far easier to focus the attention than it would be in the case of the undeveloped man who sees nothing of interest in the same object or subject. The developed man also has the faculty of shutting out unwelcome subjects and objects from his attention—his field of consciousness. He uses his Will to accomplish this result, the process being similar to that by which he focuses his attention upon an uninteresting object or subject. The undeveloped man, having scarcely any voluntary attention, is almost at the mercy of outside impressions, and is practically in the position of the child who, viewing the passing circus parade, forgets himself, home and parents for the time being, and follows the procession until he is lost.

Impressions are received through the medium of the five senses. The senses may be divided into two classes, Direct and Indirect. The Direct senses are those conveying impressions to the brain direct, and are severally known as Feeling, Tasting and Smelling. In the exercise of these senses the person comes in contact with the object producing the impression, the contact being apparent in the case of Feeling and Tasting and less apparent, but none the less real, in the case of Smelling, in which case the minute particles emanating from the object come in contact with the olfactory nerves. The Indirect senses are those conveying impressions to the brain indirectly, and are, known as Seeing and Hearing, in which cases the impression reaches the brain through the medium of light and sound waves, respectively.

The impressions conveyed by the Direct senses are not readily recalled by the memory, while those obtained by the Indirect senses are readily recalled, and a very high degree attained by intelligent practice. For instance, one cannot easily recall the precise taste, smell, or feel of an object, although he can distinctly recall the act and time of the tasting, smelling and feeling, and all the circumstances connected with it. But the mind indelibly registers the impression of the tasting, smelling” and feeling so that it may be recognized when it again occurs. This faculty of recognition may be highly cultivated or developed, as in the cases of tea­tasters, wine experts, wool sorters, etc., in which instances the senses of Tasting, Smelling and Feeling are highly developed, and the memory of previous impressions readily recalled in its most minute details the instant the new impression reaches the brain. But it is difficult to recall the former impression of Tasting, Smelling or Feeling by an effort of the imagination so that it appears real. Exceptions are quoted by some writers who speak of certain gourmands, epicures, wine experts, etc., who can by an effort of the imagination and memory bring to their minds the distinct impression of the taste of their favorite dish or wine. Hypnotic subjects also seem to get such impressions by suggestion. But, generally speaking, it is hard to imagine a taste, smell or touch, as one does a sight or a sound.

But no difficulty of this kind is experienced in the case of impressions received through the senses of Seeing or Hearing, as one can not only recall the occurrences but can also readily picture the sight, or hear the sound, by means of the imagination aided by the memory. Some have this faculty largely developed, and can in the mind picture a sight or hear sounds almost as distinctly as in the original instance. Artists and musicians are examples of this fact.

It will readily be seen that in Memory Culture the acquiring of clear and distinct impressions is a most important feature. Unless there is something to recollect, there is no use for the memory. When you recall our illustration of the mental storehouse, with its varied and assorted stock of all sizes, shapes and colors, you will readily see the importance of having your mental packages and parcels of such size, shape and color as to to be easily seen and located when you need them.

Not only must the senses be trained to quickly and clearly record the impressions from outside so that they may he readily recalled, but the mind must be trained to direct its attention and interest to its own workings, to the end that thoughts and mental processes may be remembered when needed. Acquirement of impressions is often along two or more lines. For instance, in reading a printed page the eye records the impression of the words, sentences, paragraphs and page, while at the same time the other faculties of the mind receive the impression of the thought and meaning of the author; the impression of the thought and ideas of the reader; the conclusion arrived at by the reader after digesting and assimilating the reasoning of the author, mingling the same with the knowledge, information and opinions already stored away in his own mind. And all of these impressions may be recalled by means of the memory, according to the measure of the development of the faculty of memory in the particular individual.

Cultivation of Attention and Interest has produced almost marvelous results in many well known cases, and anyone may with a little practice acquire proficiency along these lines that will be as surprising to himself as amazing to his friends.

Robert Houdin, the celebrated French conjurer, whose best tricks depended materially upon his quick and correct observation, and, his wonderful memory, had developed his faculty of rapid observation and attention as well as his memory, by years of careful practice. It is related of him that in his earlier days he would pass rapidly by a Paris shop, giving one sharp, quick glance at the window, then turning his eyes in another direction. Walking along for a few minutes he would stop and with pencil and paper endeavor to recall and describe as many articles as possible. He found that steady practice so sharpened his faculty of attention and observation that each day he would recollect a greater number of objects displayed in the windows, the explanation being that he was steadily developing the faculties which received and stored away impressions, as well as those which recalled them. It is said that in time he was able to rush past a large store window, filled with small wares, and receive such a full, clear and sharp impression of the objects displayed that he could, hours afterward, recall and describe every article with scarcely a mistake. This development made Houdin what he was, and helped him to amass a fortune. His mind apparently became like a photographic plate, and registered everything in range, and all he had to do was to recall the impression and call off the names of the objects as he saw them with his mind’s eye.

Rudyard Kipling, in his delightful story, “Kim,” describes a similar proceeding. The old teacher Lurgan Sahib was training the boy for the Secret Service, in which the quick and clear seeing of things meant success, and perhaps even life itself. The old man took from a drawer a handful of jewels, gems, etc., and bids Kim to gaze upon them as long as he desired, and then see what he could remember of what he had seen. A native boy, who had been trained in this way for some time, is also there. Kim bent over the tray and gazed at the fifteen jewels upon it. He thought it was an easy game. The tray was then covered, and the native boy hastily scribbled his recollection on a sheet of paper. “‘There are under that paper five blue stones, one big, one smaller, and three small,’ said Kim, all in haste. ‘There are four green stones and one with a hole in it; there is one yellow stone that I can see through, and one like a pipe­stem. There are two red stones, and—and—I made the count fifteen, but two I have forgotten. No! give me time. One was of ivory, little and brownish, and—and—give me time.’” But Kim could do no better. “‘Hear my count,’ cried the native child, ‘First are two flawed sapphires, one of two ruttees and one of four, as I should judge. The four ruttee sapphire is chipped at the edge. There is one Turkestan turquoise, plain with green veins, and there are two inscribed—one with the name of God in gilt, and the other being cracked across, for it came out of an old ring, I cannot read. We have now the five blue stones; four flamed emeralds there are, but one is drilled in two places, and one is a little carven.’ ‘Their weight,’ said Lurgan Sahib, impassively. ‘Three— five—five and four ruttees, as I judge it. There is one piece of old greenish amber, and a cheap cut topaz from Europe. There is one ruby of Burma, one of two ruttees, without a flaw. And there is a ballas ruby, flawed, of two ruttees. There is a carved ivory from China, representing a rat sucking an egg; and there is last—Ah—ha!—a ball of crystal as big as a bean set in gold leaf!’ He clapped his hands at the close.” Kim feels much mortified at the superiority of the native boy. “‘But how is it done?’ asked Kim. ‘By doing it many times over till it is done perfectly—for it is worth doing.” I advise you to read this book (and it is full of good things), and see how Kim profited by the instructions of the old master. This game so graphically portrayed by that master of description, Kipling, is a favorite with the Orientals, many of whom attain a great proficiency in it as did Houdin in his form of the same game. And any of you may do the same, if you will take the time and trouble to acquire the “knack.”

It is related of a well­known artist that at a first sitting of a patron he would often sit gazing at his sitter for an hour at a time, and would then dismiss him, telling him that he need not return. He would then work at the portrait for months without another sitting, gazing from time to time at the empty chair of his late sitter, and then reproducing his features on the canvas. He said that he could actually see his model in the chair, the impression having apparently been indelibly impressed upon his memory. This, of course, is an extreme example, but other artists have developed the same faculty to a scarcely less wonderful degree.

The Chinese have a different letter or word­sign for every word, and the Chinese scholar carries thousands of these word­signs in his mind, without any trouble. Our own children are doing the same thing on a smaller scale by reason of the new system of reading now in vogue in our schools. When we, their parents, learned to read we would first begin to spell the word before we could read it, and it was a long time before we reached “Con­stan­ti­no­ple,” but now our little ones are taught the shape or general appearance of the word, instead of its separate letters, or sound, and to them “Constantinople” is as easy to read as “Cat” (and “Cat” as hard to spell as “Constantinople,” sometimes).

Similar results are recorded of musicians, many of whom have been able to reproduce page after page of music they had heard but once or twice. A celebrated composer, while but a boy, is said to have listened to a celebrated Mass sung at a monastery, the score of which was religiously guarded by the monks. Upon his return to his room he reproduced the entire Mass on paper, without the mistake of a single note. The monks forgave the theft in their admiration of the remarkable feat. Lesser feats of memorizing music are not uncommon. And mind you, it is not alone the faculty of memory that renders these things possible, but the developed faculty of seeing and hearing things clearly and distinctly.

There are Jews living to­day who can repeat by heart, from any given word, the whole of the Talmud, which is a library in itself. Leland tells a tale of a Hindu who did not understand English at all, who having fifty lines of “Paradise Lost” read to him, repeated it accurately from sound, and then rehearsed it backwards. In earlier times, when books were costly, men were dependent upon their memories, and many developed memories which would now be regarded as marvelous, but which were then quite the ordinary thing, possessed by all who made any pretense to study. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, students flocked to the universities in thousands. Books were scarce and costly, and the ancient custom of committing whole works to memory still prevailed. Schliemann, in his Ilios, tells us that his memory was bad originally, but he so perfected it by an indomitable will and hard work, that at last he learned a new language every six months, so as to write and speak it perfectly. And all this while he was making a fortune in the wholesale grocery business.

Japanese children pass at least two years in studying mere letters or signs before they begin to read. This is much harder than anything known in our schools, and involves the exercise of memory only. This training has given the Japanese wonderful memories. One of their writers, Hirata Atsutane, compiled a great work on the myths and legends of his country, and is said to have composed the first three volumes of the text and several volumes of the introduction, without referring to a single book from which he had drawn his information.

Grotius and Pascal are said to have forgotten nothing that they had ever read or thought. Cardinal Mezzofanti, who is said to have mastered over a hundred different languages, declared that he never forgot a word that he had once learned. There is a story on record of an old village grave­digger who could remember the day of every funeral in the churchyard for thirty­five years, the age of the deceased, and the names of those attending the funeral.

Seneca was able to repeat two thousand disconnected words after having heard them once, in the same order as they were given, simply by his natural powers of memory. His friend, Porteus Latio, never forgot any of the speeches he had ever delivered, and never found his memory fail for a single word. Cyneas, an ambassador to the Romans from King Pyrrhus, learned in a single day the names of the assembled people so well that the next day he was able to salute the senate and the populace, each by his own name. Pliny says that Cyrus knew the name of every soldier in his army. Francis Luarez could repeat all of St. Augustine’s works, making quotations and citing the number of the page and the line where they could be found. Themistocles could call by their names the 20,000 citizens of Athens. Muretus tells of a young Corsican pupil who could repeat backward and forward 36,000 unconnected words, after having heard them but once. He said that he could do better, but the men who were reading to him became exhausted. There came to this Corsican a young man whose memory was wretched. The Corsican instructed him with such success that in a week or two the pupil could repeat five hundred words, backward and forward.

Magliabechi, the great Florentine bibliophile, had a wonderful memory for books and libraries. He knew the location, shelf, and number of every book in his own great library, and of the other great libraries of the world. Once the Grand Duke of Tuscany asked him where he could find a copy of a certain rare book, and he replied that there was only one copy in existence, and that copy was “in the library of the Grand Seignior, in Constantinople, on the seventh shelf of the third case to the right as you enter.” Joseph Scaliger committed to memory the Iliad and Odyssey, in less than a month, and in three months had mastered the entire list of the Greek poets, and committed them to memory. This man is said to have often complained of his poor memory!

By practice one may develop the power of concentration and attention as applied to thoughts as well as other things. The same rule and reason maintains in each case. In subsequent chapters we will take up this phase of the subject. But our attention will first be directed to the development of the faculty of acquiring impressions through the senses of Seeing and Hearing.

THE POWER OF MIND

Подняться наверх