Speaker 1: How to remember occurrences. The phase of memory which manifests
in the recording of and recollection of the occurrences and
details of one's every day life is far more important
than would appear at first thought. The average person is
under the impression that he remembers very well the occurrences
of his every day business, professional, or social life, and
is apt to be surprised to have it suggested to
him that he really remembers but very little of what
happens to him during his waking hours. In order to
prove how very little of this kind is really remembered,
let each student lay down this book at this place, and, then,
quieting his mind, let him endeavor to recall the incidents
of the same day of the preceding week. He will
be surprised to see how very little of what happened
on that day he is really capable of recollecting. Then
let him try the same experiment with the occurrences of yesterday.
This result will also excite surprise. It is true that
if he is reminded of some particular occurrence, he will
recall it more or less distinctly, but beyond that he
will remember nothing. Let him imagine himself called upon to
testify in court regarding the happenings of the previous day
or the day of the week before, and he will
realize his position. The reason for his failure to easily
remember the events referred to is to be found in
the fact that he made no effort at the time
to impress these happenings upon his subconscious mentality. He allowed
them to pass from his attention, like the proverbial water
from the duck's back. He did not wish to be
bothered with the recollection of trifles, and in endeavoring to
escape from them them, he made the mistake of failing
to store them away. There is a vast difference between
dwelling on the past and storing away past records for
possible future reference. To allow the records of each day
to be destroyed is like tearing up the important business
papers in an office in order to avoid giving them
a little space in the files. It is not advisable
to expend much mental effort in fastening each important detail
of the day upon the mind as it occurs. But
there is an easier way that will accomplish the purpose,
if one will but take a little trouble In that direction,
we refer to the practice of reviewing the occurrences of
each day after the active work of the day is over.
If you will give to the occurrences of each day
a mental review in the evening, you will find that
the act of reviewing will employ the at attention to
such an extent as to register the happenings in such
a manner that they will be available if ever needed thereafter.
It is akin to the filing of the business papers
of the day for possible future reference. Besides this advantage,
these reviews will serve you well as a reminder of
many little things of immediate importance which have escaped your
recollection by reason of something that followed them. In the
field of attention, you will find that a little practice
will enable you to review the events of the day
in a very short space of time, with a surprising
degree of accuracy of detail. It seems that the mind
will readily respond to this demand upon it. The process
appears to be akin to a mental digestion, or rather
a mental rumination, similar to that of the cow when
it choos the cud that it has previous gathered. The
thing is largely a knack, easily acquired by a little practice.
It will pay you for the little trouble and time
that you expend upon it. As we have said, not
only do you gain the advantage of storing away these
records of the day for future use, but you also
have your attention called to many important details that have
escaped you, and you will find that many ideas of
importance will come to you in your moments of leisure rumination.
Let this work be done in the evening when you
feel at ease, but do not do it after you retire.
The bed is made for sleep, not for thinking. You
will find that the subconsciousness will awaken to the fact
that it will be called upon later for the records
of the day, and will accordingly take notice of what
happens in a far more diligent and faithful manner. The
subconsciousness responds to a call made upon it in an
astonishing manner. When it once understands just what is required
of it, You will see that much of the virtue
of the plan recommended consists in the fact that in
the review there is an employment of the attention in
a manner impossible during the haste and rush of the
day's work. The faint impressions are brought out for examination,
and the attention of the examination and review greatly deepen
the impression in each case, so that it may be
reproduced thereafter in a sentence. It is the deepening of
the faint impressions of the day. Thurlow Weed, a well
known politician of the last century, testifies to the efficacy
of the above mentioned method in his memoirs. His plan
was slightly different from that mentioned by us, but you
will at once see that it involves the same principles,
the same psychology. Mister Weed says, some of my friends
used to think that I was cut out for a politician,
but I saw at once a fatal weakness. My memory
was a sieve. I could remember nothing, dates, names, appointments, faces.
Everything escaped me. I said to my wife Catherine, I
shall never make a successful politician, for I cannot remember,
and that is a prime necessity of politicians. A politician
who sees a man once should remember him forever. My
wife told me that I must train my memory. So
when I came home that night, I sat down alone
and spent fifteen minutes trying silently to recall with accurate
recy the principal events of the day. I could remember,
but little at first. Now I remember that I could
not then recall what I had for breakfast. After a
few days practice, I found I could recall more. Events
came back to me more minutely, more accurately, and more
vividly than at first. After a fortnight or so of this,
Catherine said, why don't you relate to me the events
of the day instead of recalling them to yourself. It
would be interesting, and my interest in it would be
a stimulus to you. Having great respect for my wife's opinion,
I began a habit of oral confession, as it were,
which was continued for almost fifty years. Every night, the
last thing before retiring, I told her everything I could
remember that had happened to me or about me during
the day. I generally recalled the very dishes I had
for breakfast, dinner, and tea, the people I had seen
and what they had said, the editorials I had written
for my paper, giving her a brief abstract of them.
I mentioned all the letters I had seen and received,
and the very language used as nearly as possible when
I had walked or ridden. I told her everything that
had come within my observation. I found that I could
say my lesson better and better every year, and instead
of the practice growing irksome, it became a pleasure to
go over again the events of the day. I am
indebted to this discipline for a memory of unusual tenacity,
and I recommend the practice to all who wished to
store up facts or expect to have much to do
with influence men. The careful student, after reading these words
of thurlow Weed, will see that in them he has
not only given a method of recalling the particular class
of occurrences mentioned in this lesson, but has also pointed
out a way whereby the entire field of memory may
be trained and developed. The habit of reviewing and telling
the things that one perceives, does and thinks during the
day naturally sharpens the powers of future observation, attention, and perception.
If you are witnessing a thing which you know that
you will be called upon to describe to another person,
you will instinctively apply your attention to it. The knowledge
that you will be called upon for a description of
a thing will give the zest of interest or necessity
to it, which may be lacking otherwise. If you will
sense things with the knowledge that you will be called
upon to tell of them later on. You will give
the interest and attention that go to make sharp, clear
and deep impressions on the memory. In this case, the
seeing and hearing has a meaning to you and a purpose.
In addition to this, the work of review establishes a
desirable habit of mind. If you don't care to relate
the occurrences to another person, learn to tell them to yourself.
In the evening play the part yourself. There is a
valuable secret of memory embedded in this chapter, if you
are wise enough to apply it,