1 · We have to treat of memory and remembering, considering its nature, its [5] cause, and the part of the soul to which this experience, as well as that of recollecting, belongs. For the persons who possess a retentive memory are not identical with those who excel in power of recollection; indeed, as a rule, slow people have a better memory, whereas those who are quick-witted and clever are better at recollecting.
We must first consider the objects of memory, a point on which mistakes are [10] often made. Now to remember what is future is not possible—that is an object of opinion or expectation (and indeed there might be actually a science of expectation, like that of divination, in which some believe); nor is there memory of what is present, but only sense-perception. For by the latter we do not know what is future or past, but what is present only. But memory relates to what is past. No one would [15] say that he remembers what is present, when it is present, e.g. a given white object at the moment when he sees it; nor would one say that he remembers an object of scientific contemplation at the moment when he is actually contemplating it, and has it full before his mind;—of the former he would say only that he perceives it, of the latter only that he knows it. But when one has knowledge or perception apart [20] from the objects, he thus remembers as to the former, that he learned it, or thought it out for himself, as to the latter, that he heard, or saw, it or had some sensible experience of it. For whenever one exercises the faculty of remembering, he must say within himself that he formerly heard or perceived or thought of that.
Memory is, therefore, neither perception nor conception, but a state or [25] affection of one of these, conditioned by lapse of time. As already observed, there is no such thing as memory of the present while present; for the present is object only of perception, and the future, of expectation, but the object of memory is the past. All memory, therefore, implies a time elapsed; consequently only those animals which perceive time remember, and the organ whereby they perceive time is also that whereby they remember.
The subject of imagination has been already considered in our work On the [450a1] Soul. Without an image thinking is impossible. For there is in such activity an affection identical with one in geometrical demonstrations. For in the latter case, though we do not make any use of the fact that the quantity in the triangle is determinate, we nevertheless draw it determinate in quantity. So likewise when one thinks, although the object may not be quantitative, one envisages it as quantitative, [5] though he thinks of it in abstraction from quantity; while, on the other hand, if it is something by nature quantitative but indeterminate, one envisages it as if it had determinate quantity, though one thinks of it only as a quantity. Why we cannot think of anything without a continuum or think of non-temporal things without time, is another question. Now, one must cognize magnitude and motion by means of the same faculty by which one cognizes time. Thus it is clear that the cognition [10] of these objects is effected by the primary faculty of perception, and memory even of intellectual objects involves an image and the image is an affection of the common sense. Thus memory belongs incidentally to the faculty of thought, and essentially it belongs to the primary faculty of sense-perception.
Hence not only human beings and the beings which possess opinion or intelligence, but also certain other animals, possess memory. If memory were a [15] function of the thinking parts, it would not have been an attribute of many of the other animals, but probably, in that case, no mortal beings1 would have had memory; since, even as the case stands, it is not an attribute of them all, just because all have not the faculty of perceiving time. Whenever one actually remembers having seen or heard or learned something, he perceives in addition as we have already observed that it happened before; and before and after are in time. [20]
Accordingly, if asked, of which among the parts of the soul memory is a function, we reply: manifestly of that part to which imagination also appertains; and all objects of which there is imagination are in themselves objects of memory, while those which do not exist without imagination are objects of memory incidentally. [25]
One might ask how it is possible that though the affection is present, and the fact absent, the latter—that which is not present—is remembered. It is clear that we must conceive that which is generated through sense-perception in the soul, and in the part of the body which is its seat,—viz. that affection the state whereof we [30] call memory—to be some such thing as a picture.2 The process of movement stamps in, as it were, a sort of impression of the percept, just as persons do who make an impression with a seal. This explains why, in those who are strongly moved owing to [450b1] passion, or time of life, no memory is formed; just as no impression would be formed if the movement of the seal were to impinge on running water; while there are others in whom, owing to the receiving surface being frayed, as happens to old walls, or owing to the hardness of the receiving surface, the requisite impression is not [5] implanted at all. Hence both very young and very old persons are defective in memory; they are in a state of flux, the former because of their growth, the latter, owing to their decay. Similarly, both those who are too quick and those who are too slow have bad memories. The former are too moist, the latter too hard, so that in the case of the former the image does not remain in the soul, while on the latter it is not [10] imprinted at all.
But then, if this is what happens in the genesis of memory, when one remembers, is it this affection that he remembers, or is it the thing from which this was derived? If the former, it would follow that we remember nothing which is absent; if the latter, how it is possible that, though perceiving directly only the [15] impression, we remember that absent thing which we do not perceive? Granted that there is in us something like an impression or picture, why should the perception of this be memory of something else, and not of this itself? For when one actually remembers, this impression is what he contemplates, and this is what he perceives. How then will he remember what is not present? One might as well suppose it [20] possible also to see or hear that which is not present. Or can this in a way actually happen? A picture painted on a panel is at once a picture and a likeness: that is, while one and the same, it is both of these, although the being of both is not the same, and one may contemplate it either as a picture, or as a likeness. Just in the same way we have to conceive that the image within us is both something in itself [25] and relative to something else. In so far as it is regarded in itself, it is only an object of contemplation, or an image; but when considered as relative to something else, e.g., as its likeness, it is also a reminder. Hence, whenever its movement is actual, if the soul perceives this in its own right, it appears to occur as a mere thought or image; but if the soul perceives it qua related to something else, then—just as when [30] one contemplates the painting in the picture as being a likeness, and without having seen the actual Coriscus, contemplates it as a likeness of Coriscus, and in that case the experience involved in this contemplation of it is different from what one has [451a1] when he contemplates it simply as a painted figure—of the objects in the soul, the one presents itself simply as a thought, but the other, just because, as in the painting, it is a likeness, presents itself as a reminder.
We can now understand why it is that sometimes, when we have such processes, based on some former act of perception, occurring in the soul, we do not [5] know whether this really implies our having had perceptions corresponding to them, and we doubt whether the case is or is not one of memory. But occasionally it happens that we get a sudden idea and recollect that we heard or saw something formerly. This happens whenever, from contemplating a mental object in itself, one changes his point of view, and regards it as relative to something else.
The opposite also occurs, as happened in the cases of Antipheron of Oreus and others suffering from mental derangement; for they were accustomed to speak of [10] their images as facts of their past experience, and as if remembering them. This takes place whenever one contemplates what is not a likeness as if it were a likeness.
Mnemonic exercises aim at preserving one’s memory of something by repeatedly reminding him of it; which implies nothing else than the frequent contemplation of something as a likeness, and not in its own right.
[15] As regards the question, therefore, what memory or remembering is, it has now been shown that it is the having of an image, related as a likeness to that of which it is an image; and as to the question of which of the faculties within us memory is a function, it has been shown that it is a function of the primary faculty of sense-perception, i.e. of that faculty whereby we perceive time.
2 · Next comes the subject of recollection, in dealing with which we must assume the truths elicited in our tentative discussions. For recollection is not the recovery or acquisition of memory; since at the instant when one at first learns or [20] experiences, he does not thereby recover a memory, inasmuch as none has preceded, nor does he acquire one ab initio. It is only at the instant when the state or affection is implanted in the soul that memory exists, and therefore memory is not itself implanted concurrently with the implantation of the sensory experience. Further, when it has first been implanted in the indivisible and ultimate organ, there is then [25] already established in the person affected the affection, or the knowledge (if one ought to apply the term ‘knowledge’ to the state or affection; and indeed one may well remember, in the incidental sense, some of the things which one knows; but to remember, strictly speaking, is an activity which will not occur until time has elapsed. For one remembers now what one saw or otherwise experienced formerly; [30] one does not remember now what one experiences now.
Again, it is obviously possible, without any present act of recollection, to remember as a continued consequence of the original perception or other experience; [451b1] whereas when one recovers some knowledge which he had before, or some perception, or some other experience, the state of which we above declared to be memory, it is then, and then only, that this recovery may amount to a recollection of any of the things aforesaid; and memory follows on recollection. [5]
But even the assertion that recollection is the reinstatement of something which was there before requires qualification—it is right in one way, wrong in another. For the same person may twice learn, or twice discover the same fact. Accordingly, the act of recollecting ought to be distinguished from these acts; i.e. recollecting must imply in those who recollect the presence of some source over and above that from which they originally learn. [10]
Acts of recollection are due to the fact that one movement has by nature another that succeeds it.
If this order be necessary, whenever a subject experiences the former of two movements thus connected, it will experience the latter; if, however, the order be not necessary, but customary, only for the most part will the subject experience the latter of the two movements. But it is a fact that there are some movements, by a single experience of which persons take the impress of custom more deeply than they do by experiencing others many times; hence upon seeing some things but once [15] we remember them better than others which we may have seen frequently.
Whenever, therefore, we are recollecting, we are experiencing one of the antecedent movements until finally we experience the one after which customarily comes that which we seek. This explains why we hunt up the series, having started in thought from the present or some other, and from something either similar, or contrary, to what we seek, or else from that which is contiguous with it. That is how recollection takes place; for the movements involved in these starting-points are in [20] some cases identical, in others, again, simultaneous, while in others they comprise a portion of them, so that the remnant which one experienced after that portion is comparatively small.
Thus, then, it is that persons seek to recollect, and thus, too, it is that they recollect even without seeking to do so, viz. when the movement has supervened on some other. For, as a rule, it is when antecedent movements of the classes here [25] described have first been excited, that the particular movement implied in recollection follows. We need not examine a series of which the beginning and end lie far apart, in order to see how we remember; one in which they lie near one another will serve equally well. For it is clear that the method is in each case the same. For by the effect of custom the movements tend to succeed one another in a certain order. Accordingly, therefore, when one wishes to recollect, that is what he [30] will do: he will try to obtain a beginning of movement whose sequel shall be the movement which he desires to reawaken. This explains why attempts at recollection succeed soonest and best when they start from a beginning. For, in order of [452a1] succession, the movements are to one another as the objects. Accordingly, things arranged in a fixed order, like the successive demonstrations in geometry, are easy to remember, while badly arranged subjects are remembered with difficulty.
[5] Recollecting differs also in this respect from relearning, that one who recollects will be able, somehow, to move, solely by his own effort, to the term next after the starting-point. When one cannot do this of himself, but only by external assistance, he no longer remembers. It often happens that, though a person cannot recollect at the moment, yet by seeking he can do so, and discovers what he seeks. This he succeeds in doing by setting up many movements, until finally he excites one of a kind which will have for its sequel the fact he wishes to recollect. For [10] remembering is the existence of a movement capable of stimulating the mind to the desired movement, and this, as has been said, in such a way that the person should be moved from within himself, i.e. in consequence of movements wholly contained within himself.
But one must get hold of a starting-point. This explains why it is that persons are supposed to recollect sometimes by starting from ‘places’. The cause is that they [15] pass swiftly from one point to another, e.g. from milk to white, from white to mist, and thence to moist, from which one remembers Autumn if this be the season he is trying to recollect.
It seems in general that the middle point among all things is a good starting-point. For if one does not recollect before, he will do so when he has come to this, or, if not, nothing can help him; as, e.g. if one were to have in mind A B C D E F [20] G H I. For, if he does not remember at I, he remembers at E; because from E movement in either direction is possible, to D or to F. But, if it is not for one of these that he is searching, he will remember when he has come to C, if he is searching for A or B. But if not, he will remember by going to G, and so in all cases. The cause of one’s sometimes recollecting and sometimes not, though starting from the same [25] point, is, that from the same starting-point a movement can be made in several directions, as, for instance, from C to B or to D. If, then, the mind has not moved in an old path3, it tends to move to the more customary; for custom now assumes the role of nature. Hence the rapidity with which we recollect what we frequently think about. For as one thing follows another by nature, so too that happens by custom;4 and frequency creates nature. And since in the realm of nature occurrences take place which are even contrary to nature, or fortuitous, the same happens a fortiori [452b1] in the sphere swayed by custom, since in this sphere nature is not similarly established. Hence it is that the mind receives an impulse to move sometimes in the required direction, and at other times otherwise, particularly when something else somehow deflects the mind from the right direction and attracts it to itself. This last consideration explains too how it happens that, when we want to remember a name, [5] if we know one somewhat like it, we blunder on to that.
Thus, then, recollection takes place.
But the point of capital importance is that one should know, determinately or indeterminately, the time-relation. There is,—let it be taken as a fact,—something by which one distinguishes a greater and a smaller time; and it is reasonable to think that one does this in a way analogous to that in which one discerns magnitudes. For it is not by the mind’s reaching out towards them, as some say a visual ray from the [10] eye does that one thinks of large things at a distance in space (for even if they are not there, one may similarly think of them); but one does so by a proportionate movement. For there are in the mind similar figures and movements. Therefore, when one thinks of the greater objects, in what will his thinking of those differ from his thinking of the smaller? For all the internal though smaller are as it were proportional. Now, as we may assume within a person something proportional to the [15] forms, so too, we may doubtless assume something else proportional to their distances. It is as though, if one has the movement AB, BE, he constructs CD; for AC and CD are proportional. Why then does he construct CD rather than FG? Is it not because as AC is to AB, so is H to I? These movements therefore he has [20] simultaneously. But if he wishes to think of FG, he thinks of BE in like manner as before; but now, instead of H, I, he thinks of K, L; for these are so related as is FA to BA.
When, therefore, the movement corresponding to the object and that corresponding to its time concur, then one actually remembers. If one supposes he does without really doing so, he supposes himself to remember. For one may be mistaken, [25] and think that he remembers when he really does not. But it is not possible that when one actually remembers he should not suppose himself to remember, but should remember unconsciously. For that is what remembering is. If however, the movement corresponding to the object takes place without that corresponding to the time, or, if the latter takes place without the former, one does not remember.
The movement answering to the time is of two kinds. Sometimes in remembering a fact one has no determinate time-notion of it, no such notion as that, e.g., he did something or other on the day before yesterday; while in other cases he has a [453a1] determinate notion of the time. Still, even though one does not remember with actual determination of the time, he genuinely remembers, none the less. People often say that they remember, but yet do not know when whenever they do not know determinately the exact length of time.
It has been already stated that those who have a good memory are not identical [5] with those who are quick at recollecting. But the act of recollecting differs from that of remembering, not only in respect of time, but also in this, that many also of the other animals have memory, but, of all that we are acquainted with, none, we venture to say, except man, shares in the faculty of recollection. The cause of this is [10] that recollection is, as it were, a mode of inference. For he who endeavours to recollect infers that he formerly saw or heard, or had some such experience, and the process is, as it were, a sort of investigation. But to investigate in this way belongs naturally to those animals alone which are also endowed with the faculty of deliberation; for deliberation is a form of inference.
That the affection is corporeal, i.e. that recollection is a searching for an image [15] in a corporeal substrate, is proved by the fact that some persons, when, despite the most strenuous application of thought, they have been unable to recollect, feel discomfort, which even though they abandon the effort at recollection, persists in them none the less; and especially persons of melancholic temperament. For these [20] are most powerfully moved by images. The reason why the effort of recollection is not under the control of their will is that, as those who throw a stone cannot stop it at their will when thrown, so he who tries to recollect and hunts sets up a process in a material part, in which resides the affection. Those who have moisture around that part which is the centre of sense-perception suffer most discomfort of this kind. For when once the moisture has been set in motion it is not easily brought to rest, until [25] the idea which was sought for has again presented itself, and thus the movement has found a straight course. For a similar reason bursts of anger or fits of terror, when once they have excited such motions, are not at once allayed, even though the angry or terrified persons set up counter motions, but the passions continue to move them on, in the same direction as at first. The affection resembles also that in the case of words, tunes, or sayings, whenever one of them has become inveterate on the lips. [30] People give them up and resolve to avoid them; yet again and again they find themselves humming the forbidden air, or using the prohibited word.
Those whose upper parts are abnormally large, as is the case with dwarfs, have [453b1] abnormally weak memory, as compared with their opposites, because of the great weight which they have resting upon the organ of perception, and because their movements are, from the very first, not able to keep true to a course, but are dispersed, and because, in the effort at recollection, these movements do not easily find a direct onward path. Infants and very old persons have bad memories, owing [5] to the amount of movement going on within them; for the latter are in process of rapid decay, the former in process of vigorous growth; and we may add that children, until considerably advanced in years, are dwarf-like. Such then is our theory as regards memory and remembering—their nature, and the particular [10] organ of the soul by which animals remember; also as regards recollection, its definition, and the manner and causes of its performance.