I. Normal Life (Continued)
I have directed your attention up to this point to the conservation of experiences which at the time of their occurrence, although lost beyond voluntary recall, for the most part occupied the focus of attention of the individual—were within the full light of consciousness. If these experiences were the only ones which were subject to conservation—and I would have you still bear in mind that I am using the term only in the limited sense of the ability to recover an experience in some favorable condition, or moment of consciousness, or through some fortunate or technical mode of reproduction—if, I say, these were the only ones to be conserved, then the conservation of the experiences which make up our mental lives would be considerably curtailed. It so happens, however, that a large part of our mental activity is occupied with acts of which at the moment we are only dimly aware—or half aware—in that they do not occupy the focus of attention. Some of these are what we call absent-minded acts. Again, many sensations and perceptions do not enter the focus of attention, so that we are either not aware of them, or, if we are, there is so little vividness attached to them that they are almost immediately lost to voluntary memory. The same is true of certain trains of thoughts which course through the mind while one’s attention is concentrated on some other line of thought. They are sometimes described as being in the background of the mind. Then, again, we have our dream life, and that of reverie, and the important artificial state of hypnosis; also certain pathological states to which some individuals are subject, such as intoxication, hysterical crises, deliria, and multiple personality. Accordingly it is important in any investigation into the extent of the field of conservation to inquire whether all this mental life is only fleeting, evanescent, psychological experience, or whether it is subject to the same principle of conservation. If the latter be the case it presages consequences which are portentous in the possible multiplicity and manifoldness of the elements which may enter into and may govern the mechanism of mental processes. But let me not get ahead of my exposition.
Absent-minded acts.—In a study made some time ago I recorded the reproduction, as a crystal vision, of an absent-minded act, i.e., one which had not fully entered the focus of consciousness during deep concentration of the attention. It is a type of numerous experiments of this kind that I have made. Miss B. is directed to look into a crystal. She sees therein a vision of herself walking along a particular street in Boston in a brown study. She sees herself take out of her pocket some bank notes, tear them up, and throw them into the street. Now this artificial hallucination, or vision, was a picture of an actual occurrence; in an absent-minded reverie the subject had actually performed this very act under the circumstances portrayed in the vision and had retained no memory of it.[[27]]
Similarly I have frequently recovered knowledge of the whereabouts of articles mislaid absent-mindedly. Sometimes the method used has been, as in the above examples, that of crystal gazing or artificial hallucinations; sometimes hypnotism, sometimes automatic writing, etc. By the last two methods not only the forgotten acts but the ideas and feelings which were outside the focus of attention, but in the fringe of consciousness, and prompted the acts are described. It is needless to give the details of the observations; it suffices to say that each minute detail of the absent-minded act and the thoughts and feelings that determined it are described or mirrored, as the case may be. The point of importance is that concentration of attention is not essential for conservation, and, therefore, among the vast mass of the conserved experiences of life may be found many which, though once conscious, only entered the margin of awareness (not the focus of attention) and never were subject to voluntary recollection. In the absence of attentive awareness at the time for such an experience (and therefore of recollection), we often can only be assured that it ever occurred by circumstantial evidence. When this assurance is wanting we are tempted to deny its occurrence and our responsibility, but experiment shows that the process of conservation, like the dictagraph, is a more faithful custodian of our experiences than are our voluntary memories.
Subconscious perceptions.—It is not difficult to show that perceptions of the environment which never even entered the fringe of the personal consciousness, i.e., of which the individual was never even dimly aware, may be conserved. Indeed, the demonstration of their conservation is one of the important pieces of evidence for the occurrence of coconscious perception and, therefore, of the splitting of consciousness. Mrs. Holland, both by automatic writing and in hypnosis, describes perceptions of the environment (objects seen, etc.) of which she was not aware at the time. Miss B. and B. C. A. recall, in hypnosis and by automatic writing, paragraphs in the newspapers read through casual glances without awareness thereof. The same is true of perceptions of the environment experienced under experimental conditions as well as fortuitously. I have made a large number of experiments and other observations of this kind, and have been in the habit of demonstrating before the students at my lectures this evidence of coconscious perception. A simple method is to ask a suitable subject to describe the dress of some person in the audience, or of objects in the environment; if he is unable to do this, then to attempt to obtain as minute a description as possible by automatic writing or verbally after he has been hypnotized. It is often quite surprising to note with what detail the objects which almost entirely escaped conscious observation are subconsciously perceived and remembered. Sometimes the descriptions of my students have been quite embarrassing from their naïve truthfulness to nature.
The following is an example of such an observation: I asked B. C. A. (without warning and after having covered her eyes) to describe the dress of a friend who was present and with whom she had been conversing for perhaps some twenty minutes. She was unable to do so beyond saying that he wore dark clothes. I then found that I myself was unable to give a more detailed description of his dress, although we had lunched and been together about two hours. B. C. A. was then asked to write a description automatically. Her hand wrote as follows (she was unaware that her hand was writing):
“He has on a dark greenish gray suit, a stripe in it—little rough stripe; black bow-cravat; shirt with three little stripes in it; black laced shoes; false teeth; one finger gone; three buttons on his coat.”
The written description was absolutely correct. The stripes in the coat were almost invisible. I had not noticed his teeth or the loss of a finger and we had to count the buttons to make sure of their number owing to their partial concealment by the folds of the unbuttoned coat. The shoe strings I am sure, under the conditions, would have escaped nearly everyone’s observation.
Subconscious perceptions even more than absent-minded acts offer some of the most interesting phenomena of conservation, for these phenomena give evidence of the ability, under certain conditions, to reproduce, in one mode or another, experiences which were never a phase of the personal consciousness, never entered even the fringe of the content of this consciousness and of which, therefore, we were never aware. For this reason they are not, properly speaking, forgotten experiences. Their reproduction sometimes produces dramatic effects. The following is an instance: B. C. A., waking one night out of a sound sleep, saw a vision of a young girl dressed in white, standing at the foot of her bed. The vision was extraordinarily vivid, the face so distinct that she was able to give a detailed description of it. She had no recollection of having seen the face before, and it awakened no sense of familiarity. Suspecting, for certain reasons, the figure to be that of a young girl who had recently died and whom I knew that B. C. A. had never known and was not aware that she had ever seen, I placed before her a collection of a dozen or more photographs of different people among which was one of this girl. This photograph she picked out as the one which most resembled the vision (it was a poor likeness) and automatic writing confirmed most positively the choice. Now it transpired that she had passed by this girl on one occasion while the latter was talking to me in the hall of my house, but she had purposely, for certain reasons, not looked at her. Subconsciously, however, she had seen her since she could give, both in hypnosis and by automatic writing, an accurate account of the incident, which I also remembered. B. C. A., however, had no recollection of it. The subconscious perception was later reproduced (after having undergone secondary elaboration) as a vision.
Similarly I have known paragraphs read in the newspapers out of the corner of her eye, so to speak, and probably by casual glances, not only, as I have said, to be recalled in hypnosis and by automatic writing, but to be reproduced with more or less elaboration in her dreams. She had, as the evidence showed, no awareness at the time of having read these paragraphs and no after recollection of the same.
Experimentally, as I have said, it is possible to demonstrate other phenomena which are the same in principle. The experiment consists, after surreptitiously placing objects under proper precautions in the peripheral field of vision, in having the subject fix his eyes on central vision and his attention distracted from the environment by intense concentration or reading. Immediately after removing the objects it is determined that the subject did not consciously perceive them. But in hypnosis or by other methods it is found that memory for perceptions of the peripheral objects returns, i.e., the perceptions are reproduced. Auditory stimuli may be used as tests with similar results.
Likewise, with Miss B., I have frequently obtained reproductions of perceptions of which at the time she was unaware. This has been either under similar experimental conditions, or under accidental circumstances when I could confirm the accuracy of the reproductions. For instance, to cite one out of numerous examples, on one occasion I saw her pass by in the street while I was standing on the door-step of a house some fifteen or twenty feet away, well outside the line of her central vision. She was in a brown study. I called to her three times saying, “Good morning, Miss B.,” laying the accent each time on a different word. She did not hear me and later had no recollection of the episode. In hypnosis she recalled the circumstances accurately and reproduced my words with the accents properly placed. Such observations and experiments I have frequently made. They can be varied indefinitely in form and condition.
The phenomenon of subconscious perception of sensory stimulations applied to anesthetic areas (tactile[(tactile], visual, etc.), in hysterics, first demonstrated by Janet, is of the same order, but has been so often described that only a reference to it is necessary. I mention examples here merely that the different kinds of phenomena that may be brought within the sphere of memory shall be mentioned. For instance, Mrs. E. B.[[28]] has an hysterical loss of sensibility in the hand which, in consequence, can be severely pinched or pricked, or an object placed in it, etc., without her being aware of the fact. Notwithstanding this absence of awareness these tactile experiences were conserved since an accurate detailed memory of them is recovered in hypnosis, or manifested through automatic writing. The same phenomenon can be demonstrated in Mrs. R., whose right arm is anesthetic.[[29]] The same conservation of subconscious perceptions can be experimentally demonstrated during automatic writing. At such times the writing hand becomes anesthetic and if a screen is interposed so that the subject cannot see the hand he is not aware of any stimulations applied to it. Nevertheless such sensory stimulations—a prick or a pinch or more complicated impressions—are conserved, for the hand will accurately describe all that is done.
An observation which I made on one of my subjects probably belongs here rather than to the preceding types. Several different objects were successively brought into the field of vision, but so far toward the periphery that they could not be sufficiently clearly seen to be identified. In hypnosis, however, they were accurately described, showing the conservation of perceptions that did not enter the vivid awareness or clear perception of the subject.
It is true, as a study of the coconscious would show, that such phenomena of anesthesia and unrecognized perceptions are dependent upon a dissociation of consciousness and upon coconscious perception. But this is a matter of mechanism with which we are not now concerned. The point simply is that subconscious perceptions which never entered the awareness of the personal consciousness may be conserved.
I will cite one more observation, one in which the reproduction was through secondary translation, as we shall see later that it belongs to a class which enables us to determine the nature of conservation.
B. C. A., actuated by curiosity, looked into a crystal and saw there some printed words which had no meaning for her whatever and awakened no memory of any previous experience. It was afterward found that these words represented a cablegram message which she unconsciously overheard while it was being transmitted over the telephone to the telegraph office by my secretary in the next room. She had no recollection of having heard the words, as she was absorbed in reading a book at the time. The correctness of the visual reproduction is shown, not only by automatic writing which remembered and recorded the whole experience, but also by comparison with the original cablegram.
Again, in other experiments there appear, in the crystal, visions rich in detail of persons whom she does not remember having seen, although it can be proved that she actually has seen them.
The reproduction of subconscious perceptions and forgotten knowledge in dreams, visions, hypnosis, trance states, by automatic writing, etc., is interesting apart from the theory of memory. Facts of this kind offer a rational interpretation of many well-authenticated phenomena exploited in spiritistic literature. Much of the surprising information given by planchette, table rapping, and similar devices commonly employed by mediums, depends upon the translation of forgotten dormant experiences into manifestations of this sort. In clinical medicine, too, we can often learn, through reproductions obtained by special methods of investigation, the origin of obsessions and other ideas which otherwise are unintelligible.
Dreams and somnambulisms.—Many people remember their dreams poorly or not at all, and, in the latter case, are under the belief that they do not dream. But often circumstantial evidence, such as talking in their sleep, shows that they do dream. Now, though ordinarily they cannot remember the dreams, by changing the waking state to an hypnotic one, or through the device of crystal visions or automatic writing, it is possible in some people to reproduce the whole dream. Amnesia for dreams, therefore, cannot be taken as evidence that they do not occur, and forgotten dream consciousness is subject to the same principles of conservation and reproduction as the experiences of waking life. Thus in B. C. A. dreams totally forgotten on awakening are easily recovered in hypnosis and in crystal visions.[[30]] In the case of M——l, which I cited to you a little while ago, the forgotten dream in which he lived over again the original episode which led to the development of his hysterical condition and which when repeated in the dream induced each successive attack, was easily recovered in hypnosis. The same was true of the forgotten dreams of Mrs. H. and Miss B.
The reproduction of nocturnal somnambulistic acts and the ideas which occupied the content of consciousness of the somnambulist can be effected in the same manner. I have quite a collection of observation of this kind. In the study of visions,[[31]] to which I have already referred, may be found the observation where Miss B., looking into a crystal, sees herself walking in her sleep and hiding some money under a tablecloth and books lying on the table. The money (which was supposed to have been lost) was found where it was seen in the vision.
In my notebook are the records of numerous artificial hallucinations of this kind which reproduce sleep-walking acts of B. C. A. To cite one instance: in the crystal she sees herself arise from her bed, turn on the lights, descend the stairs, enter one of the lower rooms, sit by the fire in deep, pensive reflection, then get up and dance merrily as her somnambulistic mood changes. Presently, as the cinematograph-like picture unfolds itself in the crystal, she sees herself go to the writing table, write two letters, ascend the stairs, dropping one letter on the way,[[32]] reënter her room, open a glove box, place the remaining letter under the gloves, and finally put out the lights and get into bed when, with the advent of sleep, the vision ends. In the vision the changing expression of her face displays each successive mood. In hypnosis also the scene is remembered and then even the thoughts which accompanied each act of the somnambulist are described. Here again, then, we have evidence that even forgotten dreams and somnambulistic thoughts are not lost but under certain special conditions can be revived in one mode or another.