In the preceding chapters we have given you suggestions for the development of the principal forms of memory. But there are still other phases or forms of memory, which while coming under the general classification may be still considered as worthy of special consideration. For instance there may be suggestions given regarding the memorization of the contents of the books you read, the stories you hear, etc. And so we have thought it advisable to devote one chapter to a consideration of these various phases of memory that have been "left out" of the other chapters.
Many of us fail to remember the important things in the books we read, and are often mortified by our ignorance regarding the contents of the works of leading authors, or of popular novels, which although we have read, we have failed to impress upon the records of our memory. Of course we must begin by reminding you of the ever present necessity of interest and attention—we cannot escape from these principles of the memory. The trouble with the majority of people is that they read books "to kill time," as a sort of mental narcotic or anesthetic, instead of for the purpose of obtaining something of interest from them. By this course we not only lose all that may be of importance or value in the book, but also acquire the habit of careless reading and inattention. The prevalence of the habit of reading many newspapers and trashy novels is responsible for the apparent inability of many persons to intelligently absorb and remember the contents of a book "worth while" when they do happen to take up such a one. But, still, even the most careless reader may improve himself and cure the habit of inattention and careless reading.
Noah Porter says: "We have not read an author till we have seen his object, whatever it may be, as he saw it." Also: " Read with attention. This is the rule that takes precedence of all others. It stands instead of a score of minor directions. Indeed it comprehends them all, and is the golden rule. . . . The page should be read as if it were never to be seen a second time; the mental eye should be fixed as if there were no other object to think of; the memory should grasp the facts like a vise; the impressions should be distinctly and sharply received." It is not necessary, nor is it advisable to attempt to memorize the text of a book, excepting, perhaps, a few passages that may seem worthy to be treasured up word for word. The principal thing to be remembered about a book is its meaning—what it is about. Then may follow the general outline, and the details of the story, essay, treatise or whatever it may be. The question that should be asked oneself, after the book is completed, or after the completion of some particular part of the book, is: "What was the writer's idea— what did he wish to say?" Get the idea of the writer. By taking this mental attitude you practically place yourself in the place of the writer, and thus take part in the idea of the book. You thus view it from the inside, rather than from the outside. You place yourself at the centre of the thing, instead of upon its circumference.
If the book be a history, biography, autobiography, narrative, or story of fact or fiction, you will find it of value to visualize its occurrences as the story unfolds. That is, endeavor to form at least a faint mental picture of the events related, so that you see them "in your mind's eye," or imagination. Use your imagination in connection with the mechanical reading. In this way you build up a series of mental pictures, which will be impressed upon your mind, and which will be remembered just as are the scenes of a play that you have witnessed, or an actual event that you have seen, only less distinct of course. Particularly should you endeavor to form a clear mental picture of each character, until each one is endowed with at least a semblance of reality to you. By doing this you will impart naturalness to the events of the story and you will obtain a new pleasure from your reading. Of course, this plan will make you read more slowly, and many trashy tales will cease to interest you, for they do not contain the real elements of interest—but this is no loss, but is a decided gain for you. At the end of each reading, take the time to mentally review the progress of the story—let the characters and scenes pass before your mental vision as in a moving picture. And when the book is finally completed, review it as a whole. By following this course, you will not only acquire the habit of easily remembering the tales and books that you have read, but will also obtain much pleasure by re-reading favorite stories in your imagination, years after. You will find that your favorite characters will take on a new reality for you, and will become as old friends in whose company you may enjoy yourself at any time, and whom you may dismiss when they tire you, without offense.
In the case of scientific treatises, essays, etc., you may follow a similar plan by dividing the work into small sections and mentally reviewing the thought— (not the words) of each section until you make it your own; and then by adding new sections to your review, you may gradually absorb and master the entire work. All this requires time, work and patience, but you will be repaid for your expenditure. You will find that this plan will soon render you impatient at books of little consequence, and will drive you to the best books on any given subject. You will begin to begrudge your time and attention, and hesitate about bestowing them upon any but the very best books. But in this you gain.
In order to fully acquaint yourself with a book, before reading it you should familiarize yourself with its general character. To do this you should pay attention to the full title, and the sub-title, if there be any; the name of the author and the list of other books that he has written, if they are noted on the title page, or the one preceding it, according to the usual custom. You should read the preface and study carefully the table of contents, that you may know the field or general subject covered by the book—in other words endeavor to get the general outline of the book, into which you may afterwards fill in the details.
In reading a book of serious import, you should make it a point to fully grasp the meaning of each paragraph before passing on to the next one. Let nothing pass you that you do not understand, at least in a general way. Consult the dictionary for words not familiar to you, so that you may grasp the full idea intended to be expressed. At the end of each chapter, section and part, you should review that which you have read, until you are able to form a mental picture of the general ideas contained therein.
To those who wish to remember the dramatic productions that they have attended, we would say that the principles above mentioned may be applied to this form of memory as well as to the memory of books. By taking an interest in each character as it appears ; by studying carefully each action and scene, and then reviewing each act in the intervals between the acts; and by finally reviewing the entire play after your return home; you will fasten the whole play as a complete mental picture, on the records of your memory. If you have acquainted yourself with what we have just said regarding the recollection of the contents of books, you will be able to modify and adapt them to the purpose of recollecting plays and dramatic productions. You will find that the oftener you review a play, the more clearly will you remember it. Many little details overlooked at first will come into the field of consciousness and fit into their proper places.
Sermons, lectures and other discourses may be remembered by bestowing interest and attention upon them, and by attempting to grasp each general idea advanced, and by noting the passage from one general idea to another. If you will practice this a few times, you will find that when you come to review the discourse (and this you should always do—it is the natural way of developing memory) the little details will come up and fit into their proper places. In this form of memory, the important thing is to train the memory by exercise and review. You will find that at each review of a discourse you will have made progress. By practice and exercise, the subconscious mentality will do better work, and will show that it is rising to its new responsibilities. You have allowed it to sleep during the many discourses to which you have listened, and it must be taught new habits. Let it know that it is expected to retain that which it hears, and then exercise it frequently by reviews of discourses, and you will be surprised at the degree of the work it will perform for you. Not only will you remember better, but you will hear better and more intelligently. The subconsciousness, knowing that it will be called upon later on to recollect what is being said, will urge you to bestow the attention necessary to supply it with the proper material.
To those who have had trouble in remembering discourses, we urge that they should begin to attend lectures and other forms of discourse, with the distinct purpose of developing that form of memory. Give to the subconscious mentality the positive command that it shall attend to what is being said, and shall record the same in such a way that when you review the discourse afterward you will be presented with a good synopsis or syllabus of it. You should avoid any attempt to memorize the words of the discourse—your purpose being to absorb and record the ideas and general thought expressed. Interest—Attention—Practice—Review—these are the important points in memory.
To remember stories, anecdotes, fables, etc., the principles given above are to be employed. The main thing in memorizing an anecdote is to be able to catch the fundamental idea underlying it, and the epigrammatic sentence, or central phrase which forms the "point" of the story. Be sure that you catch these perfectly, and then commit the "point" to memory. If necessary make a memorandum of the point, until you have opportunity to review the story in your mind. Then carefully review it mentally, letting the mental image of the idea pass before you in review, and then repeating it to yourself in your own words. By rehearsing and reviewing the story, you make it your own and will be able to relate it afterward just as you would something that you had actually experienced. So true is this principle, that when carried too far it endows the story with a false sense of actuality—who has not known men who told a story so often that they came actually to believe it themselves? Do not carry the principle to this extreme but use it in moderation. The trouble with many men is that they attempt to repeat a tale, long after they have heard it, without reviewing or rehearsing in the meantime. Consequently they omit many important points, because they have failed to impress the story as a whole upon the memory. In order to know an anecdote properly, one should be able to see its characters and incidents, just as he does when he sees an illustrated joke in a comic paper. If you can make a mental picture of an anecdote, you will be apt to remember it with ease. The noted story tellers review and rehearse their jokes, and have been known to try them on their unsuspecting friends in order to get the benefit of practice before relating them in public—this practice has been called by flippant people: '' trying it on the dog." But it has its good points, and advantages. It at least saves one the mortification of being compelled to finish up a long-drawn out tale by an: "Er—well, um-m-m— I'm afraid I've forgotten just how that story ended—but it was a good one!"
Many of us fail to remember the important things in the books we read, and are often mortified by our ignorance regarding the contents of the works of leading authors, or of popular novels, which although we have read, we have failed to impress upon the records of our memory. Of course we must begin by reminding you of the ever present necessity of interest and attention—we cannot escape from these principles of the memory. The trouble with the majority of people is that they read books "to kill time," as a sort of mental narcotic or anesthetic, instead of for the purpose of obtaining something of interest from them. By this course we not only lose all that may be of importance or value in the book, but also acquire the habit of careless reading and inattention. The prevalence of the habit of reading many newspapers and trashy novels is responsible for the apparent inability of many persons to intelligently absorb and remember the contents of a book "worth while" when they do happen to take up such a one. But, still, even the most careless reader may improve himself and cure the habit of inattention and careless reading.
Noah Porter says: "We have not read an author till we have seen his object, whatever it may be, as he saw it." Also: " Read with attention. This is the rule that takes precedence of all others. It stands instead of a score of minor directions. Indeed it comprehends them all, and is the golden rule. . . . The page should be read as if it were never to be seen a second time; the mental eye should be fixed as if there were no other object to think of; the memory should grasp the facts like a vise; the impressions should be distinctly and sharply received." It is not necessary, nor is it advisable to attempt to memorize the text of a book, excepting, perhaps, a few passages that may seem worthy to be treasured up word for word. The principal thing to be remembered about a book is its meaning—what it is about. Then may follow the general outline, and the details of the story, essay, treatise or whatever it may be. The question that should be asked oneself, after the book is completed, or after the completion of some particular part of the book, is: "What was the writer's idea— what did he wish to say?" Get the idea of the writer. By taking this mental attitude you practically place yourself in the place of the writer, and thus take part in the idea of the book. You thus view it from the inside, rather than from the outside. You place yourself at the centre of the thing, instead of upon its circumference.
If the book be a history, biography, autobiography, narrative, or story of fact or fiction, you will find it of value to visualize its occurrences as the story unfolds. That is, endeavor to form at least a faint mental picture of the events related, so that you see them "in your mind's eye," or imagination. Use your imagination in connection with the mechanical reading. In this way you build up a series of mental pictures, which will be impressed upon your mind, and which will be remembered just as are the scenes of a play that you have witnessed, or an actual event that you have seen, only less distinct of course. Particularly should you endeavor to form a clear mental picture of each character, until each one is endowed with at least a semblance of reality to you. By doing this you will impart naturalness to the events of the story and you will obtain a new pleasure from your reading. Of course, this plan will make you read more slowly, and many trashy tales will cease to interest you, for they do not contain the real elements of interest—but this is no loss, but is a decided gain for you. At the end of each reading, take the time to mentally review the progress of the story—let the characters and scenes pass before your mental vision as in a moving picture. And when the book is finally completed, review it as a whole. By following this course, you will not only acquire the habit of easily remembering the tales and books that you have read, but will also obtain much pleasure by re-reading favorite stories in your imagination, years after. You will find that your favorite characters will take on a new reality for you, and will become as old friends in whose company you may enjoy yourself at any time, and whom you may dismiss when they tire you, without offense.
In the case of scientific treatises, essays, etc., you may follow a similar plan by dividing the work into small sections and mentally reviewing the thought— (not the words) of each section until you make it your own; and then by adding new sections to your review, you may gradually absorb and master the entire work. All this requires time, work and patience, but you will be repaid for your expenditure. You will find that this plan will soon render you impatient at books of little consequence, and will drive you to the best books on any given subject. You will begin to begrudge your time and attention, and hesitate about bestowing them upon any but the very best books. But in this you gain.
In order to fully acquaint yourself with a book, before reading it you should familiarize yourself with its general character. To do this you should pay attention to the full title, and the sub-title, if there be any; the name of the author and the list of other books that he has written, if they are noted on the title page, or the one preceding it, according to the usual custom. You should read the preface and study carefully the table of contents, that you may know the field or general subject covered by the book—in other words endeavor to get the general outline of the book, into which you may afterwards fill in the details.
In reading a book of serious import, you should make it a point to fully grasp the meaning of each paragraph before passing on to the next one. Let nothing pass you that you do not understand, at least in a general way. Consult the dictionary for words not familiar to you, so that you may grasp the full idea intended to be expressed. At the end of each chapter, section and part, you should review that which you have read, until you are able to form a mental picture of the general ideas contained therein.
To those who wish to remember the dramatic productions that they have attended, we would say that the principles above mentioned may be applied to this form of memory as well as to the memory of books. By taking an interest in each character as it appears ; by studying carefully each action and scene, and then reviewing each act in the intervals between the acts; and by finally reviewing the entire play after your return home; you will fasten the whole play as a complete mental picture, on the records of your memory. If you have acquainted yourself with what we have just said regarding the recollection of the contents of books, you will be able to modify and adapt them to the purpose of recollecting plays and dramatic productions. You will find that the oftener you review a play, the more clearly will you remember it. Many little details overlooked at first will come into the field of consciousness and fit into their proper places.
Sermons, lectures and other discourses may be remembered by bestowing interest and attention upon them, and by attempting to grasp each general idea advanced, and by noting the passage from one general idea to another. If you will practice this a few times, you will find that when you come to review the discourse (and this you should always do—it is the natural way of developing memory) the little details will come up and fit into their proper places. In this form of memory, the important thing is to train the memory by exercise and review. You will find that at each review of a discourse you will have made progress. By practice and exercise, the subconscious mentality will do better work, and will show that it is rising to its new responsibilities. You have allowed it to sleep during the many discourses to which you have listened, and it must be taught new habits. Let it know that it is expected to retain that which it hears, and then exercise it frequently by reviews of discourses, and you will be surprised at the degree of the work it will perform for you. Not only will you remember better, but you will hear better and more intelligently. The subconsciousness, knowing that it will be called upon later on to recollect what is being said, will urge you to bestow the attention necessary to supply it with the proper material.
To those who have had trouble in remembering discourses, we urge that they should begin to attend lectures and other forms of discourse, with the distinct purpose of developing that form of memory. Give to the subconscious mentality the positive command that it shall attend to what is being said, and shall record the same in such a way that when you review the discourse afterward you will be presented with a good synopsis or syllabus of it. You should avoid any attempt to memorize the words of the discourse—your purpose being to absorb and record the ideas and general thought expressed. Interest—Attention—Practice—Review—these are the important points in memory.
To remember stories, anecdotes, fables, etc., the principles given above are to be employed. The main thing in memorizing an anecdote is to be able to catch the fundamental idea underlying it, and the epigrammatic sentence, or central phrase which forms the "point" of the story. Be sure that you catch these perfectly, and then commit the "point" to memory. If necessary make a memorandum of the point, until you have opportunity to review the story in your mind. Then carefully review it mentally, letting the mental image of the idea pass before you in review, and then repeating it to yourself in your own words. By rehearsing and reviewing the story, you make it your own and will be able to relate it afterward just as you would something that you had actually experienced. So true is this principle, that when carried too far it endows the story with a false sense of actuality—who has not known men who told a story so often that they came actually to believe it themselves? Do not carry the principle to this extreme but use it in moderation. The trouble with many men is that they attempt to repeat a tale, long after they have heard it, without reviewing or rehearsing in the meantime. Consequently they omit many important points, because they have failed to impress the story as a whole upon the memory. In order to know an anecdote properly, one should be able to see its characters and incidents, just as he does when he sees an illustrated joke in a comic paper. If you can make a mental picture of an anecdote, you will be apt to remember it with ease. The noted story tellers review and rehearse their jokes, and have been known to try them on their unsuspecting friends in order to get the benefit of practice before relating them in public—this practice has been called by flippant people: '' trying it on the dog." But it has its good points, and advantages. It at least saves one the mortification of being compelled to finish up a long-drawn out tale by an: "Er—well, um-m-m— I'm afraid I've forgotten just how that story ended—but it was a good one!"
