The subconscious part of the mind stores away all impressions received through the senses, whether or not attention is bestowed upon the subject or object, but as such impressions are not ordinarily subject to conscious recall through the memory, they are of very little use to us in the field of consciousness, and for this purpose are practically as if they did not exist. So, for our purpose, we may assume that without at least some degree of attention no durable impression is stored way. In this sense we may say that it is not sufficient that an object transmit an impression through the avenue of the senses to the brain, but that in order that a thing be remembered attention and consciousness are necessary at the time of the primary impression.
To illustrate the difference between conscious attention and the mere receiving of impressions through the senses, let us imagine ourselves in a busy street in Chicago. Thousands of objects present themselves to our vision—thousands of sounds are transmitted to our brain through our organs of hearing— our sense of smell is receiving impressions—our sense of feeling is likewise doing its work as persons are coming in contact with us or we are brushing up against objects. In the midst of this confusion of sights, sounds, smells, feelings—with every avenue of sense impression open and receiving such impressions, we may be intently occupied with one particular sight, one sound, or even a thought—and all else that is going on around us is as if it were not. And all that we can readily remember of that particular moment is the one thing at which we were intently gazing—the one thing to which we were intently listening—or the particular thought occupying our mind at the moment.
A great proportion of the things we see, hear and feel, are almost immediately forgotten, because we have given them but a trifling degree of attention. It is said that poor memory is practically poor attention, and that the habit of careless observation is the twin of deficient memory. We refer to this phase of the subject in other parts of this book, and give instruction and exercises for the cultivation and development of the attention.
There have been differences of opinion regarding the question of whether or not one can give his attention to more than one object at the same time. The best authorities now seem to agree that the mind can actually attend to but one thing at a time, but it is able to move from one object to another, to and fro, with wonderful rapidity, which leads one to suppose that he has been directing his attention to two or more objects at the same time. Some very busy men are credited with the ability to do two or more things at the same time, but it is held that these men have simply developed an ability to glance from one thing to another with the greatest rapidity. Granville, speaking of this practice, says that it is “a sort of mental trapezeflying, wherein the performer often gets an ugly fall, and may be permanently disabled.” Bain sums up the matter when he says: “The fact never to be forgotten is that the human mind can attend to only one thing at a time, although it may shift the attention very rapidly, and thus overtake two or more things by turn.”
When the mind is concentrated upon one subject or object, it is often oblivious to other sights and sounds which ordinarily would attract its momentary attention. Thus one who is engrossed in some particular thing may be oblivious to persons passing through the room, or to the striking of a clock within a few feet of him. The writer has noticed scores of people reading in the Chicago Public Library, apparently oblivious to sights or sounds or the passage of time. They would be so engrossed in their books that others might take, or rise from, seats beside them, and they would not notice it, and would not realize that it was closing time until politely tapped on the shoulder and asked to vacate their chair. We have known persons to be so engrossed in “daydreams” that they would ride several stations past their destination on the elevated railroad or train. In the midst of battle, wounds are frequently unfelt for the time being. It is related of Henry Clay that wishing to speak on an important subject but a short time, he requested a fellow member to stop him at the expiration of the time fixed. He became so much engrossed in his speech that his friend could not get his attention, although at last, in desperation, he pushed a large pin in Clay’s leg, several times. Clay paid no attention to the pin prick, but continued his speech for a long time after, and felt no sensation of pain although the pin drew blood; He stated afterwards that he was not conscious in the slightest degree to the friend’s attempts to attract his attention, and, in fact, severely rebuked the friend for inattention to his request. It is said that a noted French writer became engrossed in his work on the morning of the massacre of St. Bartholemew, and was totally unaware of the carnage going on under his window. It is related that an Italian scientist became intensely interested in his experiments, and was not conscious of the battle going on in the streets of the town, and when at nightfall he emerged he was amazed to find Napoleon’s troops occupying the city, and that the Austrian troops had vacated possession. It is said that Socrates once volunteered for a campaign, but becoming engrossed in a philosophical speculation, he stopped still and continued in a standing position for hours, and when he had solved the problem he found himself standing alone in the plain and the entire army several hour’s march away from him.
If one wishes to devote his closest attention to a subject, he should, if possible, choose a time and place where and when his mind will be free from outside impressions. If you desire to interest a friend in an important matter, you would not seek him when he was occupied with other things, and would never dream of submitting the matter to his attention when he was in the midst of other business. You would wait until you could find him comparatively free from other interests, feeling sure that you would then get an attentive hearing. It is only men who have developed the power of concentrated attention who can drop one subject entirely for the moment, and give their undivided attention to a new subject. Of course, the memory follows the attention, and those things are best remembered of which the impressions are received when the mind is at ease and not otherwise employed.
Undivided attention will give remarkably clear impressions, and vastly increases the power of the faculties and gives them a strength which they ordinarily would not possess. A pain becomes more noticeable when the attention is directed toward it. It has been noticed that when the attention is firmly directed to any particular portion of the body, a sensation is often experienced at the part. And it is now conceded that the circulation can be increased in any organ and part of the body by increased attention directed there. If we wish to obtain the fullest and clearest impressions of an object or subject, we should concentrate our attention upon it. Concentration can, of course, be greatly increased by intelligent practice.
Men of great intellectual power are noted for their developed power of attention, and on the other hand, imbeciles and idiots are almost destitute of concentrated attention. The great man’s mind, consequently, is stored full of strong, intense impressions, which he brings into the field of consciousness in his everyday work, while the man of deficient attention has but a small stock upon which to draw, and he consequently fails to manifest force and resourcefulness.
What we know about things is simply what we remember about them. This being so, one’s knowledge is dependent entirely upon his memory. And as his memory is dependent upon his attention, then attention is the prime factor of knowledge. It will pay any man or woman to develop his or her power of attention. Learn to do one thing at a time, and to do that thing the best you know how. By giving a thing our attention and interest, the task or study will become pleasant and we will be able to do it well. And we will learn all that is to be learned about it. And we will remember what we have learned. Well has Chesterfield said: “There is time enough for everything in the course of a day, if we do but one thing at a time; but there is not enough time in a year if you try to do two things at a time.” And Lord Burleigh backs him up, saying: “The shortest way of doing many things is to do one thing at a time.” When we are attending to business, let us attend to it; when we are taking our rest or play, let us not allow a thought of business to enter. Let us love business at the office—let us loathe it at home.
Apparently opposed to the above theory of concentrated