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 forgetful-ness. 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.
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
a kingdom--a kingdom more interesting and wonderful than any mere physical country could possibly be. Then ponder on the notion of contentment in spite of humble circumstances. Associate this with the idea of Thoreau, of Purun Dass, of Diogenes, of Gautama, and of Jesus of Nazareth--all of whom were content to live simply, finding their kingdom in the mind and soul. "My kingdom is not of this world," said Jesus.
Thereafter any of these ideas will be likely to suggest the epigram we are studying; for all of these ideas are now united together by the network of associations we have constructed.
Now to work out in this way all the many things which you want to remember and to have at instant command, seems, of course, like very hard work. Happily, however, such a method of forming associations, of binding ideas into bundles or clusters, as it were, is necessary only until the habit is once formed. Then the matter goes on automatically, of itself.
Conscious Action Becomes Unconscious.
It is a beneficent law of the mind (and of the body, too, for that matter) that any act, after it has been repeated a certain number of times, tends to become automatic--to do itself without any sensation of effort, sometimes even without our knowledge. A few months of careful effort will in practically every case develop such a habit of associating apposite ideas, that the student will possess, without further care or drill, this most superb accomplishment of the mind--the power of association.
It requires both care and attention to form any desirable habit, either of mind or body; but, the habit once formed, no further care or attention is necessary. To learn to write, for instance, to form the letters, to combine them into words, to elaborate the words into sentences and paragraphs, the paragraphs into pages--all this takes time, a number of years. Once thoroughly learned, however, as by a trained writer, the practice of writing requires no special care or effort.
And so with this important matter of association. Few people have it to any great degree. In most people the ideas are separate, isolated. Cardinal
Newman says of some seafaring men that they "find themselves now in Europe, now in Asia; they see visions of great cities and wild regions; they are in the marts of commerce or in the islands of the south; they gaze on Pompey's Pillar or on the Andes; and nothing which meets them carries them forward or backward to any idea beyond itself. Nothing has . . . any relations; nothing has a history or a promise." All this means, in a word, that these men have not the power of association.
In order to arrange our ideas into clusters or groups, we must for a time give special attention to the matter. As a help to study along these lines, I can recommend the following exercises which have proven in my own personal experience and in that of others advised by me, of the greatest possible value.
Take any object you like--a rose, a pencil, a chair, a wheel, a knife. Having selected your object write out a list of its peculiarities. Say you have taken a knife--an ordinary table knife. Now, describe its form, color, size, shape, weight, material, and state its peculiarities--hard, cool, sharp, heavy, opaque, elastic.
Having written out this list of descriptive points, take them up one by one and think of what other objects have the same quality. For instance, in material the knife, being of steel with an ivory handle, resembles all cutlery and steel machinery, differing from them not in material but perhaps in the manner and degree of the tempering. The ivory handle will suggest a large number of articles made of that material. The sharpness of the knife suggests lancets, swords, scissors, and so on, and may also be applied in a figurative way, as to the nature of a remark ("Her words were like a dagger thrust into his soul"); or the effect of a glance ("An eye like a bayonet thrust met mine") and so on.
This treatment of the object "knife" if done exhaustively will prove a most valuable exercise. Three or four hours over it will be time well spent. Not that you are specially interested in the subject "knife," its analysis or its relations, but that in going through the exercises with any object whatever, you are getting your mind into the habit of treating all subjects in the same analytical manner. By the time you have treated twenty different objects in accordance with this method, you will have gone far toward gaining the invaluable accomplishment of associating ideas.
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