ASSOCIATION
The elements of our consciousness, as the foregoing discussion has
taught us, stand in general combinations with each other. Even where
objective impressions lack steady combinations, we are accustomed to
construct such by means of subjective sensations and feelings. The
single beats of a row on the metronome are as such isolated, but we
combine them into a rhythmical whole by means of our feelings of strain
and relaxation, and by means of weak accompanying muscle-sensations.
We have seen that in this way the different ideational compounds, the
complex feelings, the emotions, and the volitional processes are all
resultants of the psychical processes of combination. Now, how are
these combinations constituted, and what laws are they subject to?
Psychologists generally have called them "Associations," since the
English philosophy of the eighteenth century turned its attention
to the importance of this process of combination. The opinion has
often been expressed that this one concept is sufficient to include
under it all psychical processes of combination. We shall soon see,
however, that thereby a very important and characteristic difference
is left out of account. We shall choose this difference, since it
certainly influences all processes of consciousness, as our chief
principle in a division of these combinations. This distinctive
characteristic consists in the fact that one set of psychical
combinations acts of its own accord, i.e. without the accompaniment
of those feelings of activity which we learnt were constituent parts
of the processes of apperception and volition; whereas another set is
closely connected with these activities. At the same time, further
distinctive characteristics in the combination processes run parallel
to this one. Let us therefore call only those generally passive
combination processes associations, and the active ones apperceptive
combinations, or for shortness apperceptions. If we limit in this way
the concept "association" in contra-distinction to the ordinary use
of the term, still we must enlarge it considerably on the other side,
if we wish to do justice to all the combinations of this sort that
really exist. The old theory of association was founded exclusively
on the observation of the memory-processes. With such a process we
are accustomed to take note, first of all, merely of the ideational
compounds of consciousness, and secondly, the ideas in such a schematic
memory-process are arranged regularly in a temporal succession; for
example, an outward impression acts first of all upon consciousness,
and then we remember something previous that was similar to this
impression, or stood in relation to it. Now these memory-processes, as
a closer inspection will show, make up a remarkably small part of our
associations. They are in fact of much less importance than many other
forms. As soon as we compare this form with other forms, we recognise
at once that it is merely a secondary form.
If we wish to arrange associations according to their simplicity and
the closeness of their combinations, we can start with the following
simple experiment. If we make the string of a piano sound by plucking
it in the middle, then, as the science of physics teaches us, not
only does the whole string vibrate, but each half vibrates as well
in a smaller degree, and in general each third part, each fourth,
&c., in ever decreasing amplitudes. These segments, which decrease in
length according to the numerical series 1, 2, 3, &c., correspond to
tones of increasing pitch--the half string corresponds to the octave,
the third part to the fifth of the octave, the fourth to the double
octave, and so on. If these high tones are then produced alone, one
after another, by making the corresponding part of the string vibrate
each time, and if we then return to the tone of the whole string,
we can then, if we listen attentively, hear clearly, along with the
stronger sounding fundamental tone, these overtones, or at least
those nearest to the fundamental. We therefore say that the clang of
a string, or of any other musical source, does not only consist of
the one tone according to which we determine its pitch, but also of a
series of overtones, which give it its timbre or clang-colour. This
expression itself points to the fact that in hearing a clang there
takes place psychologically an association, which is of a specially
intimate kind. The above-described experiment of comparing a clang with
some of its overtones teaches us that these latter really exist in
sensation, and that we can perceive them with very intense attention.
Nevertheless under ordinary circumstances we do not perceive them as
independent tones, but they appear to us massed together only as a
specific modification of the fundamental tone, and we call this its
clang-colour or timbre. An association of this kind, in which the
sensation-components are so fused into the resulting product that they
can no longer be clearly perceived as isolated component parts, is
called a fusion. Such a fusion can be either a very close one or a very
loose one. A single clang is for example a close fusion, a chord is a
loose one. The separate fundamental tones of a chord are bound fairly
closely into one whole, but we can hear at least some of them quite
plainly.
Similar fusions occur in the various senses, and they become very
complicated owing to the fact that sensation-elements of several
senses are joined together at the same time. The disappearance of the
components into one resulting product brings it about that we cannot
directly perceive the separate elements that make up this product
by means of direct sensation, as is in part possible in the case of
clang-fusions. We are forced to make use of an indirect method. We
proceed from the principle, that each sensation, a change in which is
of essential influence on the resulting idea, belongs to the components
of this idea. A pronounced case of this kind is seen very clearly in
spatial ideas of the senses of touch and sight. If any part of the
skin is touched with a little rod, we can, as is well known, with a
fair degree of certainty apprehend the place touched, without looking
at it. Now in the pathological cases of partial paralysis, it is
shown that there are two kinds of sensations that are of essential
influence on this localisation. Firstly, it is considerably disturbed
by a partial suspension of the outer cutaneous sensitivity. In this
case the patient often localises the impression on a place far removed
from the place touched. Secondly, complete or partial paralysis of
the muscles in the region of the place touched, e.g. the muscles
of the arm and hand in the case of a touch sensation on the hand,
causes just as much confusion in localisation. In this case as well
the patient may localise the impression on an absolutely wrong part
of the body. Therefore we must presuppose that neither cutaneous nor
muscle sensations alone are the original cause of the idea of the place
touched, but that both together by fusion give rise to this idea.
After this has once happened, the quality of the touch sensation which
is peculiar to each part of the skin and which varies with the place
of the impression, can in itself bring about a localisation. That
in general both components, i.e. cutaneous and movement sensations,
must fuse together in order to produce an idea of a certain place or
locality, is clearly shown in blind people, and especially in those
born blind. In their case the sense of sight, which determines the
whole perception of space for those who can see, is wanting, and we
observe in them a continuous and very lively co-operation of cutaneous
sensations and movements of touch.
Exactly corresponding to these relations in the sense of touch are
the phenomena that we observe in the formation of visual spatial
ideas. Here as well we notice two sensation-components regularly
working together. The one consists of the sensations of the retina.
Analogous to the touch sensations of the skin, they vary in quality
not only according to the constitution of the outer impressions, but
also according to the part of the retina which is affected by the
impression. The other component consists of the extremely delicate
sensations which accompany the positions and movements of the eye. They
vary in their intensity according to the length of the distance through
which the movement travels, just like the sensations of movement of
the other muscles of the body. We notice, therefore, that changes in
the position of the retinal elements, which may occur in inflammations
of the inside of the eye, or abnormalities in the mechanism of the
eye-movements may disturb considerably our spatial perception. They
cause sometimes apparent dislocations in the objects seen, and at
other times illusions as to their size and distance. These influences
can be demonstrated on the normal eye by means of experiments. By
making the movement of the eye more difficult, we cause the length
of a distance to be over-valued. If we compare two straight lines of
exactly the same length, one of which is interrupted by a number of
transverse lines, so that a continuous movement of the eye is hindered,
then this divided line appears longer than the undivided one. We can
also by systematic experiments change the normal relation between
eye-movements and retinal sensations. It will then be observed that our
vision slowly begins to adapt itself to this new relation between the
eye-movements and the position of the retinal elements. This can be
done by wearing spectacles with prismatic glasses for a considerable
length of time. At first all objects appear distorted. A straight
line appears curved, a circle looks like an oval, and so on. If the
spectacles are worn for several days, these distortions disappear.
It may happen that distortions again appear when the glasses are
discarded. This phenomenon can scarcely be accounted for except in the
following manner. The retinal sensations by means of local differences
in quality, which we may call qualitative local signs, correspond to
definite sensations of movement graduated as to intensity, which we
may call intensive local signs. Their relation to the centre of the
retina probably determines this correspondence. Now our experiment
with the prismatic glasses shows that this relation is neither an
absolutely permanent nor an innate one, but that it is acquired by
practice. It is acquired by the function itself, and therefore, when
the functional relations are changed, gives way to a different relation
or correspondence. This combination possesses distinctly the character
of an association, and in so far as in it the sensation-components
only appear as modified elements of the resulting spatial idea, it
also possesses the characteristics of a fusion. In contradistinction,
however, to the intensive fusions of clangs and chords, this
possesses the special characteristic, that it consists of elements
out of different senses. For the qualitative local signs belong to
the sense of sight or to the sense of touch if we are dealing with
spatial cutaneous perceptions which are exactly analogous to visual
perceptions; whereas the intensive local signs belong to sensations of
movement or muscle sensations. Both together form a complex system of
local signs.
Just as sensations fuse together into more or less complex ideas, so
also do feelings fuse together into complex compounds, in which single
elements appear to bear the rest, which act in a modifying manner
upon the form, something analogous to the overtones of a clang. These
affective fusions are again bound up most closely with the ideational
fusions that correspond to them. The impression of a musical chord is
composed of both. Only in a psychological analysis can we separate the
ideational from the affective associations, which are the essential
causes of the æthetic character of the chord. One of the most
important and simplest affective fusions of this kind is that of the
so-called "common or organic feeling." It consists of an indefinite
number of organic feelings, to which more or less lively feelings
are joined, which in this case pre-eminently belong to the class of
pleasant-unpleasant feelings. In this case, just as in the case of a
chord, certain elements are predominant, while the others are merely
modifying concomitants. Our general state of health, e.g. freshness
and activeness or general displeasure and exhaustion, is essentially a
product of this affective complex, in which under normal conditions the
sensuous feelings joined to the strain and movement sensations of the
muscles play the most important part.
A most important form of fusion consists of the impressions of our
sense of hearing and of our organs of locomotion. These impressions are
the intermediaries of our ideas of time. If we divide up into their
elements the processes of consciousness caused by metronome beats
of a medium rapidity, we find two classes--those that belong to the
class of sensations and those that belong to feelings. As sensations
we have first of all the single metronome beats divided from each
other by empty intervals. These are not the only sensations. As we
have shown above, there is also a weak sensation of strain which
probably arises from the tensor muscle of the tympanum, and which lasts
continuously from one beat to the other. To this is joined a further
sensation in the mimic muscles surrounding the ear. The whole process,
therefore, looked at from the point of view of sensation, appears
as a continuous sensation-process, which is interrupted at regular
intervals by stronger impulses arising from the objective impressions
of the beats. To all this, however, as we saw before, there is added
the regularly alternating feelings of strain and relaxation, which
determine the rhythmical ideas. All these elements of sensation and
feeling form in reality an indivisible whole. If a temporal idea is
to arise, none of these components may be wanting, if the sensations
are wanting, the feelings have, so to speak, no foundation. They
can only arise if sensation impressions are present, upon which the
feelings of expectation and realisation can be founded. On the other
land the sensations remain unconnected, they lack a combination into
a successive row, if the feelings of strain and relaxation are not
present, for they directly help in the apprehension of the equality or
inequality of the successive periods of time. If the beats are allowed
to follow each other so slowly that the last one disappears out of
the scope of consciousness when the new one enters, then the idea of
time becomes absolutely uncertain. The same thing happens if, on the
other hand, the time is so rapid that feelings of strain and relaxation
cannot arise. In both cases it is obvious that any uncertain idea of
time is only possible by reason of other extraneous factors. Just as
all our objective measures of time, from the course of the sun to the
vibrations of a tuning-fork used to measure time, depend upon regular
periodic movements, so also is our subjective time-consciousness
absolutely dependent upon rhythmical ideas. These arise first of all
from our movements of locomotion, and then in a much richer and finer
form are transmitted to us by our sense of hearing. In all these cases,
however, the resulting idea of time can be divided up into a substratum
of sensation and into an affective process of strain and relaxation, of
expectation and realisation. In the idea of time they fuse perfectly
together, so that the influence of these factors can only be shown by
the essential changes, which the resulting idea undergoes, if one of
these sensation or affective factors is altered in some marked degree.
Just as elements of consciousness are joined together by fusion into
compounds, so these compounds themselves undergo manifold changes,
out of which new combinations arise. Of great importance among these
associations of the second class are those which we shall call
assimilations and dissimilations. As ideational combinations they
can be easily demonstrated, whereas the corresponding affective
associations are joined to them rather as secondary components or form
a special class of complex feelings, which are connected with the
processes of recollection, recognition, memory, &c, and which we shall
treat of in detail later on.
Let us first of all glance at some of the most important phenomena
in connection with assimilation and dissimilation. To begin with the
simplest case, we let one object of sight work in an assimilating
manner upon another. We can achieve this most readily if we first of
all make the difference between the two objects very small, and if
secondly we bring them into a familiar relationship to each other,
and so promote the idea of their identity. For example, we draw from
one and the same centre sectors of a circle, and make one less than
the others only by a few degrees. In spite of this we are inclined to
apprehend all the sectors as equal. The larger ones work assimilatively
upon the smaller one. To cause the opposite process of dissimilation,
we draw one large sector among several smaller sectors. This appears,
in contrast to the surrounding smaller sectors, very much enlarged,
and we can convince ourselves of this by drawing on another piece of
paper a sector of the same size as the one changed by dissimilation.
This independent sector will then appear smaller than the one of its
own size that is lying among the smaller sectors. This dissimilative
change is generally called a contrast. We must not, however, confuse
this dissimilative contrast with the contrast of feelings, where it
is not a case of the formation of apparent differences in size, but
of qualitative contrasts, such as pleasure and displeasure, or the
increase of these.
More important than the assimilations and dissimilations between
directly given impressions are those that arise out of the reciprocal
action of a direct impression and of ideational elements, which belong
to previous impressions, and therefore arise by means of an act of
memory. Reproductive assimilations of this kind we have already met
with in our reading experiments (see p. 26). We saw there that a
well-known word can in general be read almost instantaneously, although
its scope greatly exceeds that of the focus of attention. It is clear
that this great facilitation in apprehension is only possible owing
to the familiarity of the object, because by its action it gives rise
to the reproduction of former corresponding impressions, and thereby
causes the completion of the image only partially perceived. We can
convince ourselves of this in a striking manner by means of reading
experiments, in which certain letters of a fairly long word have been
voluntarily altered. Such changes are then in general only partially
or not at all perceived in these quick reading experiments. It may
easily happen that we take the following combination of letters
"Miscaldoniousness" for the word "Miscellaneousness," although four out
of the seventeen letters of the word have been changed, If by chance
our attention is very strongly concentrated upon one of the wrong
letters, we can perceive the mistake, but for the other wrong letters
the right ones are as a rule substituted. It is obvious that this
phenomenon is exactly the same as the one we continually meet with when
we overlook misprints in a book, only that in our experiments a false
reading is greatly favoured by the shortness of the exposition-time.
In all these cases we generally take it for granted that it is nothing
more nor less than an inaccurate apprehension, as the expression
"overlook" suggests. Yet our rapid reading experiments convince us
that this expression is really incorrect. In reality it is not a mere
not-seeing of the wrong letters, but a seeing of the right ones in
the place of the wrong ones. If we call into our mind directly after
the experiment the image we have seen, we can see very often in those
very places, where a wrong letter stands, the right letter in the full
distinctness of an immediate impression. This is, of course, only
possible if the wrong letter is displaced by the reproduction of the
right one. Such a process is obviously made up of two parts--firstly,
the displacement of the wrong letter, and secondly, the reproduction
of the right one. Naturally both acts take place quite simultaneously,
and therefore we may look upon the displacement as an effect of the
reproduction. In this combination of the two acts an assimilation
process and a dissimilation process are joined together. By means
of an assimilation caused by the other letters the right letter is
reproduced, and this together with all the rest of the word has a
dissimilating effect upon the wrong letter. At the same time a further
conclusion follows from these phenomena, which is of importance for the
understanding of all the processes of association. It is impossible to
imagine that a combination of letters, such as we have given above,
could work as a whole, and then, because it was wrong, be replaced
by the right word. It is on the contrary obvious that processes of
assimilation and displacement have only occurred at certain places.
It is also difficult to take for granted that the observer has ever
seen the word printed in exactly the same size and type as employed in
the reading experiments. It cannot, therefore, be a single definite
word-image that he calls to memory, but there must be an indefinite
number of similar word-images, which affect assimilatively the given
impression, and cast it into the word-form which we ultimately
apprehend. From this it follows that these associations do not by any
means consist of a combination of complex ideas, but of a combination
of ideational elements, which may possibly belong to very different
ideas. With this we see that assimilation is at the same time closely
connected with the associations by fusion considered above. In both
cases the association is an elementary process. The difference
between the two forms consists only in the fact that the elements in
a fusion are constituent parts of a complex impression, whereas in an
assimilation they already belong to complex ideas, from which they
then break away in order to enter into new ideational compounds. Thus
fusion and assimilation work together in all sense-perceptions. The
moment we see an object, hear a musical chord, &c., not only do the
parts of the impression itself fuse together, but the impression also
immediately gives rise to reproductive elements, which fill up any gaps
in it, and arrange it among the ideas familiar to us. These processes
continually overlap each other, and extend over all the regions of
sense. What we imagine we perceive directly, really belongs in a great
extent to our memory of innumerable previous impressions, and we are
not aware of a separation between what is directly given us and what is
supplied by assimilation. Only when the reproductive elements attain
to such a striking ascendancy, that they come into an irreconcilable
contradiction with our usual perceptions, are we accustomed to speak
of a deception of the senses or of an illusion. But this is only a
limiting case, and it goes over by unnoticeable intermediate gradations
into normal associations, which we might just as well call "normal
illusions." Many words of a lecture are imperfectly heard; the contours
of a drawing or painting are only imperfectly represented in our eye.
In spite of this we notice none of the gaps. That does not happen
because we perceive the things inaccurately, as this phenomenon is
often incorrectly interpreted, but because we have at our disposal the
rich stores of memory, which fill out and perfect the perceived image.
This complementary association is met with in a striking manner, when a
real assimilation is hindered by the associated elements belonging to
different senses. In this case the difference in sense-quality erects,
as it were, a partition-wall, which prevents the unobservable union of
the elements. But at the same time even then close combinations can
be formed, which at the operation of a sense-impression immediately
reproduce the associated sensations of another sense. For example,
we often observe in silent reading weak clang-images of the words,
to which are joined slight movements of the articulation-organs, or
at least indications of such movements. At the sight of a musical
instrument we often perceive in ourselves a weak auditory sensation
of its clang; the sight of a gun will often give rise to a weak
sound sensation, or if we hear the gun fired, to a reproduced visual
image, and so forth. Such associations of disparate senses are called
complications. They form an important supplement to the associations,
since together with these they essentially determine the ideational
process in consciousness.
Such a co-operation of assimilations and complications is seen in
the most striking manner in those processes of association which in
ordinary life are called "recognitions," or, if the scope of the region
of association over which the recognition stretches is indefinitely
larger, are called "cognitions." We recognise, for example, an
acquaintance, whom we have not seen for a long time. We know a table
as a table, although we may never have seen the particular table in
question before. We can do this by means of the indefinite number
of associations with other tables, which the image of the table in
question gives rise to. From what we have said above, it is at once
obvious that all such recognitions or cognitions are nothing more
than assimilations. The usual expression (to know or to be cognisant
of) must not tempt us to look upon the process as a logical process,
as an act of "knowledge." An act of knowledge may possibly follow a
process of pure associative assimilation, if we afterwards try to
account for the motives of the same. But the processes themselves,
as they continually occur and make up an important part of our
sense-experience, are pure associations. To place in them any acts of
judgment or of reflection, as is customary in the scholastic psychology
of ancient and modern times, can only serve to disguise the real
psychological character of these processes. Among the associations
called recognitions, only those are of special interest in which the
consummation of the assimilation process is in any way hindered,
either because the perceived object has but seldom been met with, or
because it has undergone changes since a previous perception of it. For
example it may, as is well known, take a long time before we recognise
a friend, who meets us unexpectedly after many years' absence. If we
observe the process in such a case a little more closely, it appears
regularly that the impression of the individual which we first of
all receive, appears to change because of certain lineaments, that
are apperceived by means of our feelings, rather than brought into
connection with the personality in question. Thus there arises a
feeling of being acquainted with him, and then there occurs a second
act, the real recognition, which follows in some cases very rapidly.
This is the consummation of the assimilation proper. Here we see
assimilation has turned into successive association, and we generally
call it a process of memory. In fact this obviously arises out of an
ordinary simultaneous assimilation, if the latter is hindered by some
disturbing factor, so that the first impression and the assimilation
of this impression form two successive acts. Such a dividing up into
a succession generally occurs very distinctly, especially when the
factors hindering the assimilation are so strong that it requires
the addition of a further helping factor in order to overcome the
hindrance. How often does it happen that some one greets us and we do
not recognise him! If, however, he comes forward and mentions his name,
suddenly the whole personality as a well-known one rises up in front
of us. The reproductive assimilations are only set into motion by the
addition of a helping idea. At the same time this example shows us how,
in the dividing up of an assimilation process into a memory process,
a complication may occasionally intervene. The name and the visual
image are joined together as a complication, although in regard to the
impression of human personalities in general they form fairly strong
associations.
In these processes of hindrance and assistance of associations, which
are to be observed in recognitions, feelings play a not unimportant
part. We have indicated this already. In the above example, before
we recognised the friend we had not seen for a long time, the act of
recognition was prepared for by an indefinite kind of feeling, which
with a certain suddenness, experiencing at the same time a noticeable
increase in intensity, changed into the real act of recognition. How
are we to explain this feeling? Whence does it come, and how can we
explain its transition into the assimilation? The term a "feeling of
familiarity" or a "quality of familiarity" with a thing has been used
and has been regarded as a name for a specific element common to all
acts of recognition. This was supposed to be affixed to every known
object as a kind of outward sign. But the supposition of such an
abstract symbol contradicts absolutely our observation. For, however
indefinite this feeling may be in the period that prepares for the
assimilation, it nevertheless possesses in each separate case its
own peculiar quality, which is quite dependent upon the constitution
of the recognised object. For example, the feeling differs, if we
recognise an old friend, and if we recognise a district through which
we have once wandered long ago. And it is by no means the same when
we meet our friend Mr. X., and when we meet Mr. Y. whom we did not
wish to see again. Just as much as the objects themselves differ, so
do the so-called "qualities of familiarity" diverge from each other.
From this we must conclude that these qualities are integral parts of
the objects, naturally not of their objective nature, but of their
effect upon us, or, more precisely expressed, of our apperception. Now
we have learnt that the essence of feeling was just this influence
of the ideational content of consciousness upon the apperception. It
follows therefore incontestably, that this quality of familiarity is
nothing more than the feeling character, which the recognised idea
possesses for us. Now this feeling of being acquainted with a thing,
as the above-mentioned observations teach us, may be very strong,
while the assimilation of the new idea by the old is taking place
not quite unhindered. We must therefore conclude that, in the period
of preparation for the recognition, the assimilating previous idea
is already beginning to make its appearance in the darker region of
consciousness, and that it causes its corresponding affective reaction,
but that it cannot itself force its way through to apperception. This
interpretation of the process obviously receives fundamental support
from our previous observations of the rhythmical feelings. With them it
was also a case of recognition. If we repeat two similar rows of beats
one after the other, we recognise the second as similar to the first.
Now this can only happen, as we have convinced ourselves, if the total
feeling concentrates itself upon the last beat of each row, which in
its specific feeling-quality corresponds to the previous rhythmical
whole. Exactly the same thing that happened in these rhythmical
experiments, repeats itself now in these retarded recognitions of
ordinary experience, except that in a way the distribution of the
feelings is reversed. In the recognition of a rhythm the feeling
corresponding to it arises out of the influence of the elements, that
have receded out of the focus of attention into the darker field
of consciousness, upon the apperception; in the steady rise of an
impression to a state of recognition, the feeling is caused by the
influence of the elements that are already in the darker field of
consciousness but have not yet entered into the focus of attention.
In these complex processes of the recognition of objects, a further
condition is added, which in the repetition of rows of beats did not
make itself felt, at least not in the same degree, because of the
simplicity of the phenomenon, It consists in the fact that each idea
possesses a background of other ideas that are joined to it in a
spatial or temporal connection, and that in the process of recognition
these ideas may hinder or assist the assimilation process. They may
retard the recognition or make it absolutely impossible, or they may
form essential aids to it. Such secondary ideas can be observed very
distinctly in cases where they join the chief idea after some time has
elapsed. So in the above example, where the mentioning of the man's
name caused a sudden recognition of the person himself; or, to take the
reverse of this example, where the assimilation that is being formed is
retarded owing to the fact that the name is other than the one suited
to the motives of assimilation. Such secondary ideas are of course
always present, even although we do not notice them. Even although they
are in the darkest region of consciousness, they form, along with the
feeling-tone of the chief idea, important components of the feelings
accompanying the processes of cognition and recognition, especially
in regard to their influence upon the apperception. In this way these
latter are in reality always resultants of a sum of influences, and
thus each separate experience, because of the unlimited variation
of the secondary ideas accompanying assimilations and recognitions,
possesses its specific feeling-tone, which distinguishes it from other
previous or succeeding experiences.
Many phenomena that belong here escape ordinary observation,
because their continuous repetition makes us insensitive to them.
In those cases where an impression was accompanied by a very strong
feeling-tone, and where its return is accompanied by a totally
different affective state, we notice distinctly how the original
feeling-tone becomes modified owing to the changed background. Thus
every psychical process possesses its specific tone, even if it appears
as a mere repetition of a previous process. The changing secondary
ideas, by means of their own affective influences, give it its special
temporal and local signs. By means of these each single process can
be distinguished from any other, however similar this may be. The
opposite phenomenon may also occur. Who does not know the strange
feeling which occasionally comes over us at some process, the feeling
that we have already in the past experienced this thing, although we
know with certainty that this is in reality impossible? These phenomena
also belong to the department of feelings, and we must connect them
with the influences which arise from the indistinct secondary ideas,
and which may at times almost exactly correspond, even when the chief
ideas themselves are absolutely different. If such feelings become
particularly strong, they very likely exert a reactive influence upon
the assimilation process, and thus cause the new experience to appear
as the repetition of a previous one. It may be that the so-called
"second sight," which some people imagine they possess, depends upon
very strong individual affective reactions of this kind and their
assimilative influences. The ever-changing constellations of secondary
ideas give each single experience its specific feeling-tone, by means
of which it is distinguished from previous and following experiences.
So it may happen that similar constellations of the darkly perceived
content return in processes that otherwise are different, i.e. in the
components that stand in the focus of consciousness. There is also
another experience that may be mentioned here--one that has certainly
escaped no keen observer of his own psychical life. If one calls to
mind any previous experience, or in general any previous period of
life--e.g. any definite period of one's childhood, of one's student
life, or the beginning of one's professional career, &c.--each such
striking experience or each such period of life is connected with
a peculiar feeling, which also in this case enters into a distinct
reciprocal action with the recalled ideas, inasmuch as it raises them
to a greater degree of clearness and is itself increased by them. Any
single recalled idea could scarcely account for the unusual intensity
and the specific quality which these feeling-tones often reach. We must
also remember that a clearly apperceived content in such cases seldom
arises, and that in the second set (the periods of life) we have not
as a rule one single idea. We can understand such cases by considering
the fact that, if fewer definite ideas clearly arise, a great number
of indistinct secondary ideas are active, and, since they are peculiar
to each experience and to each period of life, call up again the
corresponding total feeling, where a more definite reproduction of
single ideas is absolutely wanting.
Let us return after this digression to the processes of recognition.
The activity of the secondary ideas, that came to light in the
experiences described above, helps us to understand some special
characteristics that we met with in ordinary recognition, and still
more so in the hindrances that this may experience. Especially in
acts of recognition that are in some way or other retarded, we can in
general observe a strong affective reaction arising, which, wherever
we can bring it into connection with special motives, points to the
effect of secondary ideas. They are as a rule only indistinct in
consciousness, but sometimes they are afterwards recognised and prove
themselves to be the motive, not only of the specific accompanying
feeling, but also of the recognition itself. With these are closely
connected other phenomena, which arise under circumstances where a
real act of recognition never takes place, or under circumstances
where the process, which is at first taking place absolutely within
the region of the affective influences of the indistinct content of
consciousness, more or less suddenly changes at most into an act of
memory. A few examples will make such cases clear. Who has not had the
experience of being for hours at a time oppressed with the feeling that
he has forgotten something, or missed something, or done something
wrong, without being able to explain what it is that oppresses him in
this manner? Or who has not had experiences such as the following? I
leave my house, and the moment I walk along the street I feel there is
something I have forgotten; then by chance I pass a pillar-box, and it
suddenly strikes me that I have forgotten to take with me an important
letter. To such examples also belongs the torture we sometimes endure
in trying to recall a name well-known to us. In such cases it often
happens that we voluntarily try to obtain similar aids to our memory,
as sometimes play a part in the retarded recognition of an individual
known to us. Attempts have been made to explain all such cases by
speaking of "states of consciousness"--an expression that tells us
nothing and gives us no information as to the nature of these phenomena
themselves. Now these feelings of forgetting, of thinking over a thing,
of missing a thing, &c., are by no means always the same. They depend
in each single case upon the special constitution of the idea in
question. We can, therefore, in a manner analogous to our recognition
experiments, interpret them as affective reactions to indistinct
ideational content, in which the affective quality is dependent upon
the specific constitution of the ideas, whereas the general affective
character in the above-mentioned cases mostly belongs to the directions
of strain and excitation.
The phenomena of recognition in their origin could be represented as
simultaneous assimilations with occasional intervening complications.
In their inhibition-forms, which we have just discussed, they lead us
directly over to memory-associations. The old theory of association
derived from these its schematism of association forms. In reality they
are the association phenomena that are most of all noticed, because
with them the ideas that are bound together seem to be distinguishable
from each other because of their succession in time. Our previous
discussion has, however, shown us that they are neither the only
combinations of this class, nor even the most important ones. In fact
they may be defined in accordance with their psychological origin
as assimilations and complications, in which the combination of the
constituent components is hindered by opposing motives, so that these
components appear as independent ideas. This is seen clearly in such
cases in which a continuous transition from the direct assimilative
recognition, that takes place in a single act, to a memory-association
is possible. Let us take, for example, the case of looking at a
portrait of a well-known person, and let us imagine the portrait
executed in the most differing grades of likeness to the original. In
the very rare cases, in which the painter achieves the greatest degree
of likeness, it can happen that the picture gives rise to a very strong
impression of identity with the original. There then arises a direct
assimilation, which follows without any hindrance or retardation.
If the picture is fairly good, so that the person may be recognised
without any difficulty, but nevertheless possesses some strange
lineaments, the process is one of retarded assimilation. The false
parts of the portrait are after a longer inspection pushed aside by
reproductive assimilation, and it may also happen after some time, that
we see into this less excellent picture also the known personality. But
if in the third and last case the portrait is much too unlike, there
arises a peculiar competition between assimilation and dissimilation,
in which it sometimes happens that we try to call up the memory-image
of the person independently of the portrait we are looking at. It is
usual to call this process "association by similarity," and to take for
granted that the seen and the reproduced picture have been successively
in consciousness. This is, as can easily be seen, a one-sided way of
looking at the process; it is an attempt to make up a scheme out of an
occasionally secondary phenomenon, whereas the essential part of the
process, the competition between the assimilative and dissimilative
influences, is quite overlooked.
There is yet another occasion, in which the assimilation of an
impression may be analysed into a succession of ideas. This happens
if the impression has been a component of a compound idea in previous
experiences. The separate parts of this compound idea have been
arranged in a succession, and this row itself may either be a temporal
or a spatial one, and, in order to go through it, a succession of acts
of apprehension are necessary. Both cases, temporal and spatial, are in
essence identical, since they coincide as to the factor of succession.
For example, if the words "I am the Lord" are seen or heard, then any
one who is familiar with the Ten Commandments will feel inclined to
continue, "thy God," &c., and this continuation may appear to him in
visual word-images, or in weak sound-images, or the words may arise
in the memory in complications made up out of impressions of both
senses. It is usual to call this process "association by contiguity."
Here also it is taken for granted that the directly impressed and the
reproduced members of the row have joined together in pure succession.
But this is also an imaginary scheme that does not correspond to
reality. If we pay special attention to the course of the process, we
clearly observe that the unseen or unheard part of the row does not
by any means only enter consciousness, when the directly perceived
part has already disappeared out of our apperception. We have rather
in this case a phenomenon quite similar to the one we observed in the
course of a row of beats or, in the reverse order, in the retarded
recognition of an object. In the moment in which in the above example
the word "Lord" was apperceived, already the whole succeeding content
of the Decalogue was in the dark region of consciousness, so that from
this the feeling-character, not only of the next words, but of the
whole Ten Commandments, immediately conditioned the apperception. In
reality, therefore, we have also in this case to do with a reproductive
assimilation, in which the parts are apperceived successively because
of the temporal arrangement of these parts, which are in reciprocal
assimilation with each other. Just in the same way do the separate
beats of a rhythmical row form a succession and still are at the
same time a united whole in consciousness. This process becomes in a
way modified, if an impression calls up memory-elements of different
kinds, by which it can be assimilated according to the individual
disposition of consciousness. If, for example, I hear the word "father"
without any special connection with other ideas, I may according to
circumstances bring the word "mother" or "house" or "land," &c., into
assimilative combination with it. In such cases it may happen that a
competition between these different reproductions may arise, similar to
the one we observed in the examination of a bad portrait, and this is
generally shown in feelings of displeasure and excitation, as also in a
retardation of the whole process. But such phenomena seldom occur under
the normal conditions of psychical life, although they form the rule in
the so-called association experiments.
Our observations have therefore made it clear that the division,
which to some extent still exists in present-day psychology, of
all memory-associations into "combinations by similarity" and "by
contiguity," rests upon a schematisation of these processes, in which
their essential content, and in particular their close connection
with simultaneous assimilations, remains unnoticed. The deeper reason
for this method of observation, that operates more with fictions
and formulæ than with real phenomena, may be looked for in the
false materialisation of ideas. This has been consolidated rather
than abolished by the conventional association psychology. A more
thorough analysis of associations should have tended to abolish such
a materialisation. The memory-associations were looked upon as the
typical and only forms of association, instead of being considered
as mere limiting cases, which are only developed under certain
conditions out of processes of fusion, assimilation, and complication.
The succession of two independent ideas, only joined together by
outward similarity or by habitual contiguity, was made the basis for
a scheme for all psychical processes. And thus the view was formed
that each idea was an unchangeable thing, very similar to the object
from which it arose. If we take an unprejudiced view of the processes
of consciousness, free from all the so-called association rules and
theories, we see at once that an idea is no more an even relatively
constant thing than is a feeling or emotion or volitional process.
There exist only changing and transient ideational processes; there
are no permanent ideas that return again and disappear again. In
the ideational processes there is a continual interaction among
the elements out of which they are formed. A remembered idea is
therefore as little identical with the previous memory-act of the
same idea as with the original impression with which it is connected.
Just as ideas are not permanent objects, so they are not processes
that take place independent of feelings and emotions, for the
more indistinct ideational content of consciousness by means of
its feeling-tone influences apperception. From these again arise
other combinations, which join together into one whole a number of
contents of consciousness which belong together. Even with memory
associations it is therefore never the complex ideas themselves which
associate together, but each association divides up into a number of
more elementary combinations. In these there are always processes
of hindrance and retardation at work, so that the associated idea,
in contradistinction to the original idea, of which it seems the
renewal, can always show further changes, which depend upon the
special conditions of their origin. Here those assimilations and
dissimilations, which continually intervene as reproductive factors in
our immediate sense-perceptions, make up the fundamental forms of the
process, which determine all acts of memory. And these themselves can
always be reduced to assimilation processes, which have been divided up
into a succession, partly because of hindrances, and partly because of
the temporal arrangement of the ideational processes themselves.