CHAPTER III

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.