Lesson 19 Perceptive Efficiency

From what has been said on the subject up to this point, you will readily see that the first step in effective perception, or perceptive efficiency, is to cultivate the attention, and to acquire the habit of bestowing attention upon the thing which you wish to study or memorize. The cultivation and proper use of attention is largely a matter of practice and exercise. In this connection, you should remember that "attention follows interest," and therefore you should endeavor to awaken an interest in the thing under consideration or study. Likewise, you should remember the other axiom that "attention awakens interest," and therefore, you may acquire an interest in an uninteresting thing, by bestowing upon it a little extra attention. This process of interest-attention, and attention-interest, is like an endless chain, in which attention causes interest, and interest causes greater attention, and this attention causes greater interest, and so on—reminding one of a certain old French ballad, which has its rollicking counterpart in the American chorus which runs: "We're here, because we're here, because we're here, because we're here," etc., etc. Another example of the universal law of Action and Reaction.

I cannot too strongly impress upon your mind the importance of securing clear deep impressions of the things you wish to remember. The depth and clearness of these impressions, of course, depend upon the amount of attention you give the thing at the time the impression is made. And, this degree of attention, as I have said, repeatedly, is largely dependent upon the amount of interest you have in the thing observed. Well did Joseph Cook [1] say: "Attention is the mother of memory, and interest is the mother of attention. To secure memory, secure both her mother and grandmother." In my class room, here in Paris, I have this axiom painted in letters of gold, hanging in full view of the class, so that it becomes indelibly impressed upon the minds of my students. I wish that I could produce the same impression upon the mind of every student of this book—will YOU not remember this for me, dear student?

[1. No information, although the quote appears in other books of the era. ]

We remember with comparative ease the things that we like, and find it difficult to remember the things that we do not like. For instance, the boy who finds it difficult to remember his lessons, has no trouble in remembering all the details of the cricket or baseball games of several seasons. He knows the batting averages of each prominent player, and can tell you the life history of the majority of them. A woman may have a wretched memory for ordinary things, but nevertheless have a very keen, clear, accurate memory of details of dress, cost of wearing apparel, or the little tender details of her love affairs.

I once knew a woman, in Paris, who could never remember a historical date, or a date connected with business matters, but whose memory was like a photographic apparatus regarding the dates connected with her somewhat numerous and varied love affairs. She could not tell the date of the French Revolution, the Fall of the Bastille, or the Franco-German War (her woman friends asserted that moreover she could not remember the date of her birth, but that was probably a malicious addition), but she could tell you the exact date when she met her first sweetheart, the day he gave her the first kiss, etc., etc., ad nauseum. Do you see the principle involved? Cultivate interest, and attention will follow! Learn to "like" the things you wish to remember, and your attention will register the details regarding them 1

Louis Agassiz

Louis Agassiz (1807-1873) [Wikipedia]

The following incident in tile life of Agassiz, the great naturalist, will give an excellent example of the relation of attention and interest. It will serve as the basis of many exercises which you may practice, as well as illustrating an important principle. Agassiz, it may be mentioned, was renowned not only for his own extraordinary powers of perception, but also for the fact that he developed like powers in his pupils—therefore his services as a teacher were in great demand. The story is told by one of his pupils, and runs as follows: The pupil was first taken into the laboratory, and told to examine the outer appearance of a fish laid before him, as closely as possible, so as to give as complete a report as possible about it, later on when the teacher should return to the room.

He looked the fish over for a few minutes, noted its general shape, its fins, its tail, etc., and was sure that he had learned all that was to be known of the outer form of that fish at the end of a quarter-hour. He then grew tired of waiting for the teacher who had disappeared. In disgust, the student again seated himself by the fish, and looked casually at it—and lo! he saw something new in its details. Becoming interested, he examined it more carefully, and was amazed to discover quite a number of new details. Then came another period of disgusted waiting—he knew all about that fish—why should he be kept waiting longer? Lunch time came—and still no teacher. After lunch, another tedious wait! To while away the tedious moments, the student went back to the fish, and began idly to count its scales. In doing so he was surprised to notice that the fish was without eyelids.

The teacher then returned, and expressed dissatisfaction with the result of his observations, and left him after telling him a "pencil is the best of eyes," bidding him write down the results of his observations as he proceeded. The student, in despair, plucked up a new interest in extending the length of his written list, and was amazed at the many new points of interest in the fish that he brought out in this way.

Agassiz kept the young man at work on this fish for three long days, and was rewarded by securing a remarkably long list of details that the student had observed. But, best of all—and this was the real purport of the lesson—the student learned how to observe. In after years he testified to the fact that his own wonderful power of perception and observation was the direct result of this first lesson, and those which naturally evolved from it. It was said both of the teacher and this student that they could describe an ordinary insect in such a way as to invest it with romantic interest. Those who have read Fabre's works on ants, bees, spiders, etc., or who have read Maeterlinck's "Story of the Bee," will understand what I mean.

EXERCISE. Many exercises may be based upon the above recorded story of Agassiz and his pupil. The principle is simple. It consists merely in placing an object before you, and then studying all of its details, making a list of the same in writing, as you proceed. Note its general shape, its color, etc., then proceeding to its minor details—this will help you to make a classified chart, under the divisions of which you may record your details. After your interest has waned, and your attention slackened, put the object away.

Before taking it up the next day, try to recall as many of the recorded points as possible, and then read over your list and see how many you have missed. Then, the next day, resume your observation. You will be surprised to find that your subconscious mind has digested the former work, and that you have a renewed interest for the task. You will discover many new details each time you take up the task. And, moreover, you will find that your power of general perception, and the memory thereof, will have increased to a marked degree.

Another form of efficiency in perception is well illustrated in Kipling's charming story about his little hero, "Kim," who was matched against a native boy, by old Lurgan Sahib, who wished to train Kim for the Indian Secret Service work, in which accurate and rapid perception is most essential. The native boy was an old hand at the game—while Kim was a novice. The old man threw fifteen jewels on a tray, and bade the two boys gaze upon them for a moment or two. Then the tray was covered, and each boy recited what he had observed. Here follows the result, as told by Kipling:

"'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 pipe-stem. 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 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—and four ruttees, as I judge it. There is one piece of 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 balias 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."

It is interesting that the mortified, defeated Kim, so profited by the experience that he managed, finally, to out-do the native boy at his own game, and by so doing aroused his jealousy to such an extent that he tried to murder Kim.

The above story illustrates a well-known series of games, quite favored in Oriental lands, designed to develop the perceptive faculties to a wonderful degree. Many Orientals are able to cast a single, apparently sleepy, casual glance at a table full of objects, and then to write down a full and complete list thereof. But this power is not a natural gift, by any means—no one is born with it—it is all a matter of hard work, steady practice, and gradual development. It is largely a matter of arousing the subconscious mind to reach out for and assimilate the impressions poured rapidly in upon it by the trained perceptive faculties. Practice, practice, practice—attention, interest, attention, interest—that is the whole story! YOU can do these things, if you "want to" with sufficient power and determination.

In France, and in Italy, the boys play a game which is based on the same principles as the Oriental games just mentioned. The Italian boys call it "Morro," while the provincial French boys know it by a French term signifying "little foxes"—and its practice indeed makes little foxes of the boys playing it The game is played by one boy showing a closed fist, from which he suddenly opens any number of fingers. The other boy must state instantly, and without hesitation, the exact number of fingers shown. The best guesser wins the game.

A variation of this game consists in the quick statement of a number of beans shown in a suddenly opened hand. A variation in ending, is that in which the incorrect statement is followed by a smack on the cheek, which is the penalty. It is amazing to note the proficiency attained by some of these little rascals. It is not to be doubted that the practice proves beneficial to them in after life. Can you not perceive, instantly, the different degrees of perceptive power manifested by the street gamin, newsboy or bootblack, on the one hand, and the little Lord Fauntleroy sheltered boys, on the other? It is all a matter of practice and response to environment and outside stimulus.

EXERCISE. Many interesting exercises may be based upon the examples given above. There is a wide field for the same. The principle consists simply in placing an unknown number of small objects before you, then taking a few moments' attentive gaze at them, then covering them over, and writing down on paper the number and details of what you have seen. You will be very clumsy and inefficient at first, in all probability, but you will be surprised to see how speedily your powers increase by persistent practice.

Another form of the same exercise is that of the Houdin feat, in which you pass before a shop window, and then try to remember what articles you have seen therein. You will soon develop a remarkable degree of proficiency. It is interesting to note that Houdin developed this faculty by a preliminary practice with dominoes spread out before him, at which he took a hasty glance, and then wrote down what he remembered of them—the faculty rapidly developed in this way.

An interesting and useful exercise is that of acquiring the ability to instantaneously add up the number of a group of small objects—marbles or beans, for instance. Begin with one, then two, and so on, until you find your limit. Then strive to add a few more, each day, until your range is a large one. In the same way you may learn the book-keeper's trick of adding several figures at one mental operation—begin with groups of two, and work up. The principle is the same in each case—and each gain in perceptive efficiency also is a step gained in memory training, for the two run together in the task.

A concluding bit of advice regarding these exercises, is that given by old Lurgan Sahib to Kim, in Kipling's story, in which Kim, smarting under his defeat, asks the secret, and the old man answers that the secret consists in "doing it many times over, till it is done perfectly, for it is worth doing!"

 

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