1. Inclusion. 2. Exclusion. 3. Concurrence.

All of which looks very scientific and orderly, but is really misleading and badly named. The truth is that one idea will suggest another.

1. By likeness or opposition of meaning, as "house" suggests "room" or "door," etc., or "white" suggests "blacks," "cruel," "kind," etc.

2. By likeness of sound, as "harrow" and "barrow;" "Henry" and "Hennepin."

3. By mental juxtaposition, a peculiarity different in each person and depending upon each one's own experiences. Thus "St. Charles" suggests "railway bridge" to me, because I was vividly impressed by the breaking of the Wabash bridge at that point. "Stable" and "broken leg" come near each other in my experience, so do "cow" and "shot-gun" and "licking."

Out of these three sorts of suggestions it is possible to get from any one fact to any other in a chain certain and safe, along which the mind may be depended upon afterward always to follow.

The chain is, of course, by no means all. Its making and its binding must be accompanied by a vivid, methodically directed attention, which turns all the mental light gettable in a focus upon the subject passing across the mind's screen. Before Loisette was thought of this was known. In the old times in England, in order to impress upon the minds of the rising generation the parish boundaries in the rural districts, the boys were taken to each of the landmarks in succession, the position and bearings of each pointed out carefully, and, in order to deepen the impression, the young people were then and there vigorously thrashed, a mechanical method of attracting the attention which was said never to have failed. This system has had its supporters in many of the old-fashioned schools, and there are men who will read these lines who can recall, with an itching sense of vivid expression, the 144 lickings which were said to go with the multiplication table.

In default of a thrashing, however, the student must cultivate as best he can an intense fixity of perception upon every fact or word or date that he wishes to make permanently his own. It is easy. It is a matter of habit. If you will you can photograph an idea upon your cerebral gelatine so that neither years nor events will blot it out or overlay it. You must be clearly and distinctly aware of the thing you are putting into your mental treasure-house, and drastically certain of the cord by which you have tied it to some other thing of which you are sure. Unless it is worth your while to do this, you might as well abandon any hopes of mnemonic improvement, which will not come without the hardest kind of hard work, although it is work that will grow constantly easier with practice and reiteration.

You need, then: