the idea underlying many other "systems," and "secret methods"—the idea of Contiguity, in which words are strung together by fanciful connecting links. Feinagle describes this underlying idea, or principle, as follows: "The recollection of them is assisted by associating some idea of relation between the two; and as we find by experience that whatever is ludicrous is calculated to make a strong impression on the mind, the more ridiculous the association is the better." The systems founded upon this idea may be employed to repeat a long string of disconnected words, and similar things, but have but little practical value, notwithstanding the high prices charged for them. They serve merely as curiosities, or methods of performing "tricks" to amuse one's friends. Dr. Kothe, a German teacher, about the middle of the nineteenth century founded this last school of memory training, his ideas serving as the foundation for many teachers of high-priced "systems" or "secret methods" since that time. The above description of Feinagle gives the key to the principle employed. The working of the principle is accomplished by the employment of "intermediates" or "correlatives" as they are called; for instance, the words "chimney" and "leaf" would be connected as follows: "Chimney—smoke—wood—tree—Leaf."
Then there are systems or methods based on the old principle of the "Figure Alphabet," in which one is taught to remember dates by associating them with letters or words. For instance, one of the teachers of this class of systems, wished his pupils to remember the year 1480 by the word "BiG RaT," the capitals representing the figures in the date. Comment is unnecessary!
The student will find that nearly all the "systems" or "secret methods" that are being offered for sale in "courses," often at a very high price, are merely variations, improvements upon, or combinations of the three forms of artificial methods named above. New changes are constantly being worked on these old plans; new tunes played on the same old instruments; new chimes sounded from the same old bells. And the result is ever the same, in these cases—disappointment and disgust. There are a few natural systems on the market, nearly all of which contain information and instruction that makes them worth the price at which they are sold. As for the others—well, judge for yourself after purchasing them, if you so desire.
Regarding these artificial and fanciful systems, Kay says: "All such systems for the improvement of the memory belong to what we have considered the first or lowest form of it. They are for the most part based on light or foolish associations which have little foundation in nature, and are hence of little practical utility; and they do not tend to improve or strengthen the memory as a whole." Bacon says that these systems are "barren and useless," adding: "For immediately to repeat a multitude of names or words once repeated before, I esteem no more than rope-dancing, antic postures, and feats of activity; and, indeed, they are nearly the same things, the one being the abuse of the bodily as the other of the mental powers; and though they may cause admiration, they cannot be highly esteemed." And as another authority has said: "The systems of mnemonics as taught, are no better than crutches, useful to those who cannot walk, but impediments and hindrances to those who have the use of their limbs, and who only require to exercise them properly in order to have the full use of them."
In this work, there shall be no attempt to teach any of these "trick systems" that the student may perform for the amusement of his friends. Instead, there is only the desire to aid in developing the power to receive impressions, to register them upon the memory, and readily to reproduce them at will, naturally and easily. The lines of natural mental action will be followed throughout. The idea of this work is not to teach how one may perform "feats" of memory; but, instead, to instruct in the intelligent and practical use of the memory in the affairs of every-day life and work.
CHAPTER V.
THE SUBCONSCIOUS RECORD-FILE.
The old writers on the subject were wont to consider the memory as a separate faculty of the mind, but this idea disappeared before the advancing tide of knowledge which resulted in the acceptance of the conception now known as The New Psychology. This new conception recognizes the existence of a vast "out of consciousness" region of the mind, one phase of which is known as the subconscious mind, or the subconscious field of mental activities. In this field of mentation the activities of memory have their seat. A careful consideration of the subject brings the certainty that the entire work of the memory is performed in this subconscious region of the mind. Only when the subconscious record is represented to the conscious field, and recollection or remembrance results, does the memorized idea or impression emerge from the subconscious region. An understanding of this fact simplifies the entire subject of the memory, and enables us to perfect plans and methods whereby the memory may be developed, improved and trained, by means of the direction of the subconscious activities by the use of the conscious faculties and the will.
Hering says: "Memory is a faculty not only of our conscious states, but also, and much more so, of our unconscious ones." Kay says: "It is impossible to understand the true nature of memory, or how to train it aright, unless we have a clear conception of the fact that there is much in the mind of which we are unconscious.... The highest form of memory, as of all the mental powers, is the unconscious—when what we wish to recall comes to us spontaneously, without any conscious thought or search for it. Frequently when we wish to recall something that has previously been in the mind we are unable to do so by any conscious effort of the will; but we turn the attention to something else, and after a time the desired information comes up spontaneously when we are not consciously thinking of it." Carpenter says: "There is the working of a mechanism beneath the consciousness which, when once set going, runs on of itself, and which is more likely to evolve the desired result when the conscious activity of the mind is exerted in a direction altogether different."
This subconscious region of the mind is the great record-file of everything we have ever experienced, thought or known. Everything is recorded there. The best authorities now generally agree that there is no such thing as an absolute forgetting of even the most minute impression, notwithstanding the fact that we may be unable to recollect or remember it, owing to its faintness, or lack of associated "indexing." It is held that everything is to be found in that subconscious index-file, if we can only manage to find its place. Kay says: "In like manner we believe that every impression or thought that has once been before consciousness remains ever afterward impressed upon the mind. It may never again come up before consciousness, but it will doubtless remain in that vast ultra-conscious region of the mind, unconsciously moulding and fashioning our subsequent thoughts and actions. It is only a small part of what exists in the mind that we are conscious of. There is always much that is known to be in the mind that exists in it unconsciously, and must be stored away somewhere. We may be able to recall it into consciousness when we wish to do so; but at other times the mind is unconscious of its existence. Further, every one's experience must tell him that there is much in his mind that he cannot always recall when he may wish to do so,—much that he can recover only after a labored search, or that he may search for in vain at the time, but which may occur to him afterwards when perhaps he is not thinking about it. Again, much that we probably would never be able to recall, or that would not recur to us under ordinary circumstances, we may remember to have had in the mind when it is mentioned to us by others. In such a case there must still have remained some trace or scintilla of it in the mind before we could recognize it as having been there before."
Morell says: "We have every reason to believe that mental power when once called forth follows the analogy of everything we see in the material universe in the fact of its perpetuity. Every single effort of mind is a creation which can never go back again into nonentity. It may slumber in the depths of forgetfulness as light and heat slumber in the coal seams, but there it is, ready at the bidding of some appropriate stimulus to come again out of the darkness into the light of consciousness." Beattie says: "That which has been long forgotten, nay, that which we have often in vain endeavored to recollect, will sometimes without an effort of ours occur to us on a sudden, and, if I may so speak, of its own accord." Hamilton says: "The mind frequently contains whole systems of knowledge which, though in our normal state they may have faded into absolute oblivion, may in certain abnormal states, as madness, delirium, somnambulism, catalepsy, etc., flash out into luminous consciousness.... For example,