that often a state of distraction ensues, such as the train | lacks all these. Still further removed from normal sensaof ideas left to itself never occasions. The better to hear tions (i.e., sensations determined by the stimuli appropriwe listen; the better to see we look; to smell better we ate to the sense-organ) are the "recurrent sensations" often dilate the nostrils and sniff; and so with all the special unnoticed but probably experienced more or less frequently senses: each sensory impression sets up nascent movements by everybody-cases, that is, in which sights or sounds, for its better reception.1 In like manner there is also an usually such as at the time were engrossing and impressive, adjustment for images which can be distinguished from suddenly reappear several hours or even days after the physensory adjustments almost as readily as these are distin- sical stimuli, as well as their effects on the terminal senseThus workers with guished from each other. We become most aware of this, organ, seem entirely to have ceased. as, mutatis mutandis, we do of them, when we voluntarily the microscope often see objects which they have examined concentrate attention upon particular ideas instead of during the day stand out clearly before them in the dark; remaining mere passive spectators, as it were, of the it was indeed precisely such an experience that led the general procession. To this ideational adjustment may be anatomist Henle first to call attention to these facts. But referred most of the strain and "head-splitting" connected he and others have wrongly referred them to what he with recollecting, reflecting, and all that people call head- called a "sense-memory"; all that we know is against the work; and the "absent look" of one intently thinking or supposition that the eye or the ear has any power to "Recurrent sensations" absorbed in reverie seems directly due to the absence of retain and reproduce percepts. sensory adjustment that accompanies the concentration of have all the marks of percepts which after-images lack; they only differ from what are more strictly called "halluideas. cinations" in being, as regards form and quality, exact reproductions of the original impression and in being independent of all subjective suggestion determined by emotion or mental derangement.

10 seconds a considerable waning has taken place, and after 100 seconds all that is distinctive of the primary image has probably ceased.

On the whole, then, it appears that the ordinary memoryimage is a joint effect; it is not the mere residuum of changes in the presentation-continuum, but an effect of these only when there has been some concentration of attention upon them. It has the form of a percept, but is not constituted of "revived impressions," for the essential marks of impressions are absent; there is no localization or projection, neither is there the motor adaptation, nor the tone of feeling, incident to the reception of impressions. Ideas do not reproduce the intensity of these original constituents, but only their quality and complication. What we call the vividness of an idea is of the nature of intensity, but it is an intensity very partially and indirectly determined by that of the original impression; it depends much more upon the state of the memory-continuum and the attention the idea receives. The range of vividness in ideas is probably comparatively small; what are called variations in vividness are often really variations in distinctness and completeness.1 Where we have great intensity, as in hallucinations, primary presentations may be reasonably supposed to enter into the complex.

Mental Association and the Memory-continuum. Only a very brief treatment of this important subject Associasimilaris permissible here, as it has already been handled at length tion by ity under ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS (q.v.). Great confusion has been occasioned, as we have seen incidentally, by the lax Hot use of the term "association"; this confusion has been in- mental. creased by a further laxity in the use of the term "association by similarity." In so far as the similarity amounts to identity, as in assimilation, we have a process which is more fundamental than association by contiguity, but then it is not a process of association. Yet, when the reviving presentation is only partially similar to the presentation revived, the nature of the association does not appear to differ from that operative when one “contiguous" presentation revives another. In the one case we have, say, abx recalling a by and in the other abc recalling def. Now anybody who will reflect must surely see that the similarity between a bx and aby, as distinct from the identity of their partial constituent a b, cannot be the means of recall; for this similarity is nothing but the state of mind-to be studied presently-which results when a bx and a by, having been recalled, are in consciousness together and then compared. But, if a b, having concurred with y before and being now present in a b x, again revives y, the association, so far as that goes, is manifestly one of contiguity, albeit the state of mind immediately incident as soon as the revival is complete be what Dr Bain loves to style "the flash of similarity." So far as the mere revival itself goes, there is no more similarity in this case than there is when a b c revives d e ƒ. For the very a b c that now operates as the reviving presentation was obviously never in time contiguous with the def that is revived; if all traces of previous experiences of a b c were obliterated there would be no revival. In other words, the a b c now present must be "automatically assothose residua of a b c which were "contiguous" with def, ciated," or, as we prefer to say, must be assimilated to those residua of a be which were "contiguous" with def, before its representation can occur. And this, and nothing could be at work when a b "brought up" a by. more than this, we have seen, is all the "similarity" that could be at work when a b "brought up" a by. On the whole, then, we may assume that the only Contiprinciple of association we have to examine is the so-called guity in "association by contiguity," which, as ordinarily formulated, explicruns:—Any presentations whatever, which are in consciousness together or in close succession, cohere in such a way that when one recurs it tends to revive the rest, such tendency increasing with the frequency of the conjunction. But such a statement is liable to all the objections already urged against what we may call atomistic psychology. Presentations do not really crowd into Mansoul by the avenues of Eyegate, Eargate, &c., there to form bonds and unions differences. If the whole field which the second impres-tended that any investigation into the nature of association as in Bunyan's famous allegory. It has been often con

It is manifest that the memory-continuum has been in some way formed out of or differentiated from the presentation-continuum by the movements of attention, but the precise connexion of the two continua is still very difficult to determine. We see perhaps the first distinct step of this evolution in the primary memory-image: here there has been no cessation in presentation and yet the characteristic marks of the impression are gone, so much so, indeed, that superposition without "fusion" with an exactly similar impression is possible. In this manner we seem to have several primary images in the field of consciousness together, as when we count up the strokes of the clock after it has ceased striking. But, though the image thus first arises in the field of conscious ness as a sort of άróppoia or emanation from the presentation-continuum, its return (at which stage it first becomes a proper re-presentation) is never determined directly and solely by a second presentation like that which first gave it being. Its "revival" is not another birth. second impression exactly like the first we should have assimilation or simple recognition-an identity of the indiscernible which precludes the individual distinctness required in representation. But how, then, was this distinctness in the first instance possible in the series of primary images just referred to as being due to the repetition of the same presentation? Seemingly to differences in the rest of that field of consciousness in which each in turn occurred and to some persistence of these

With a

must be fruitless.2 But, if association is thus a first princi-
ple, it ought at least to admit of such a statement as shall
remove the necessity for inquiry. So long, however, as
we are asked to conceive presentations originally distinct
and isolated becoming eventually linked together, we shall
naturally feel the need of some explanation of the process,
for neither the isolation nor the links are clear,-not the
isolation, for we can only conceive two presentations sepa

sion entered had been just like the field of the first it is
hard to see what ground for distinctness there would have
been. When such second impression does not occur till
after the primary memory-image has ceased, a representa-
tion is still possible provided the new impression can
reinstate sufficient of the mental framing of the old to
give the image individual distinctness. This is really
what happens in what is ordinarily called "association by
similarity,"-similarity, that is, in the midst of some
diversity. Our inquiry into the connexion between pre-rated by other presentations intervening; nor the links,
sentations and representations has thus brought us to the
general consideration of mental association.

1 As we have seen that there is a steady transition from percept to image, so, if space allowed, the study of hallucinations might make clear an opposite and abnormal process-the passage, that is to say, of images into percepts, for such, to all intents and purposes, are hallucinations of perception, psychologically regarded.

unless these are also presentations, and then the difficulty
recurs. But, if for contiguity we substitute continuity and
regard the associated presentations as parts of a new con-
tinuum, the only important inquiry is how this new whole
was first of all integrated.

2 So Hume, Treatise of Human Nature, pt. i. § 4 (Green and
Grose's ed., p. 321); also Lotze, Metaphysik, 1st ed., p. 526.

able.

con

Forma- To ascertain this point we must examine each of the two
tion of leading divisions of contiguous association-that of simul-
memory-taneous presentations and that of presentations occurring
tinuum. in close succession. The last, being the clearer, may be
taken first. In a series of associated presentations, A B
CDE, such as the movements made in writing, the words
of a poem learned by heart, or the simple letters of the
alphabet themselves, we find that each member recalls its
successor but not its predecessor. Familiar as this fact is,
it is not perhaps easy to explain it satisfactorily. Since
C is associated both with Band D, and apparently as in-
timately with the one as with the other, why does it revive
the later only and not the earlier? B recalls C; why does
not C' recall B? We have seen that any reproduction at all
of A or B or C depends primarily upon its having been
the object of special attention so as to occupy at least
momentarily the focus of consciousness. Now we can in
the first instance only surmise that the order in which
they are reproduced is determined by the order in which
they were thus attended to when first presented. The
next question is whether the association of objects simul-
taneously presented can be resolved into an association of
objects successively attended to. Whenever we try to
recall a scene we saw but for a moment there are always
a few traits that recur, the rest being blurred and vague,
instead of the whole being revived in equal distinctness
or indistinctness. On seeing the same scene a second
time our attention is apt to be caught by something un-
noticed before, as this has the advantage of novelty;
and so on, till we have "lived ourselves into" the
whole, which may then admit of simultaneous recall.
Dr Bain, who is rightly held to have given the best ex-
position of the laws of association, admits something
very like this in saying that "coexistence is an artificial
growth formed from a certain peculiar class of mental
successions." But, while it is easy to think of instances
in which the associated objects were attended to suc-
cessively, and we are all perfectly aware that the surest
-not to say the only way to fix the association of a
number of objects is by thus concentrating attention
on each in turn, it seems hardly possible to mention
a case in which attention to the associated objects could
not have been successive. In fact, an aggregate of objects
on which attention could be focused at once would be
already associated.

The only case, then, that now remains to be considered is that to take it in its simplest form-of two primary presentations 4 and X, parts of different special continua or distincti.e., non-adjacent-parts of the same, and occupying the focus of consciousness in immediate succession. This constitutes their integration; for the result of this occupation may be regarded as a new continuum in which 4 and X become adjacent parts. For it is characteristic of a continuum that an increase in the intensity of any part leads to the intenser presentation of adjacent parts; and in this sense A and X, which were not originally continuous, have come to be so. We have here, then, some justification for the term secondary or memory-continuum when applied to this continuous series of representations to distinguish it from the primary or presentation-continuum from which its constituents are derived. The most important peculiarity of this continuum, therefore, is that it is a series of representations integrated by means of the movements of attention out of the differentiations of the primary or presentationcontinuum, or rather out of so much of these differentiations as pertain to what we know as the primary memoryimage. These movements of attention, if the phrase may be allowed, come in the end to depend mainly upon interest, but at first appear to be determined entirely by

1

mere intensity. To them it is proposed to look for that continuity which images lose in so far as they part with the local signs they had as impressions and cease to be either localized or projected. Inasmuch as it is assumed that these movements form the connexion between one representation and another in the memory-train they may be called "temporal signs."2 The evidence for their existence can be more conveniently adduced presently; it must suffice to remark here that it consists almost wholly of facts connected with voluntary attention and the voluntary control of the flow of ideas, so that temporal signs, unlike local signs, are fundamentally motor and not sensory. And, unlike impressions, representations can have each but a single sign,3 the continuum of which, in contrast to that of local signs, is not rounded and complete but continuously advancing.

But in saying this we are assuming for a moment that the memory-continuum forms a perfectly single and unbroken train. If it ever actually became so, then, in the absence of any repetition of old impressions and apart from voluntary interference with the train, consciousness, till it ceased entirely, would consist of a fixed and mechanical round of images. Some approximation to such a state is often found in uncultured persons who lead uneventful lives, and still more in idiots, who can scarcely think at all.

In actual fact, however, the memory-train is liable to Oblivischange in two respects, which considerably modify its cence. structure, viz., (1) through the evanescence of some parts, and (2) through the partial recurrence of like impressions, which produces reduplications of varying amount and extent in other parts. As regards the first, we may infer that the waning or sinking towards the threshold of consciousness which we can observe in the primary mental image continues in subconsciousness after the threshold is past. For the longer the time that elapses before their revival the fainter, the less distinct, and the less complete are the images when revived, and the more slowly they rise. All the elements of a complex are not equally revivable, as we have seen already: tastes, smells, and organic sensations, though powerful as impressions to revive other images, have little capacity for ideal reproduction themselves, while muscular movements, though perhaps of all presentations the most readily revived, do not so readily revive other presentations. Idiosyncrasies are, however, frequent; thus we find one person has an exceptional memory for sounds, another for colours, another for forms. Still it is in general true that the most intense, the most impressive, and the most interesting presentations persist the longest. But the evanescence, which is in all cases comparatively rapid at first, deepens sooner or later into real or apparent oblivion. In this manner it comes about that parts of the memory-continuum lose all distinctness of feature and, being without recognizable content,

1 This connexion of association with continuous movements of attention makes it easier to understand the difficulty above referred to, viz. that in a series ABCD... B revives C but not A, and so on--a difficulty that the analogy of adhesiveness or links leaves unaccountable. To ignore the part played by attention in association, to represent the memory-continuum as due solely to the concurrence of presentations, is perhaps the chief defect of the associationist psychology, both Eng lish and German. Mr Spencer's endeavour to show "that psychical life is distinguished from physical life by consisting of successive changes only instead of successive and simultaneous changes" (Principles of Psychology, pt. iv. ch. ii., in particular pp. 403, 406) is really nothing but so much testimony to the work of attention in forming the memory-continuum, especially when, as there is good reason to do, we reject his assumption that this growing seriality is physically

determined.

A term borrowed from Lotze (Metaphysik, 1st ed., p. 295), but the present writer is alone responsible for the scnse here given to it and the hypothesis in which it is used.

3 Apart, that is to say, of course, from the reduplications of the memory-train spoken of below.

Repeti

tion.

shrivel up to a dim and meagre representation of life that | from its very nature it is liable, though not to positive

has lapsed a representation that just suffices, for example, to show us that " our earliest recollections are not of our first experiences, or to save them from being not only isolated but discontinuous. Such discontinuity can, of course, never be absolute; we must have something represented even to mark the gap. Oblivion and the absence of all representation are thus the same, and the absence of all representation cannot psychologically constitute a break. The terms "evolution" and "involution" have in this respect been happily applied to the rising and falling of representations. When we recall a particular period of our past life or what has long ceased to be a familiar scene, events and features gradually unfold and, as it were, spread out as we keep on attending. A precisely opposite process may then be supposed to take place when they are left in undisturbed forgetfulness; with loss of distinctness in the several members of a whole or series, there is a loss of individuality and of individual differences. And such loss is not a mere latency, as some psychologists, on metaphysical grounds 1 or from a mistaken use of physical analogies, have been led to suppose. There is no real resemblance between the action, or rather inaction, of a particle obedient to the first law of motion and the persistence of a presentation,2 which is not even the psychical equivalent of an atom.

1

breaches of continuity from its own working, yet to
occasional blocks or impediments to the smooth succession
of images at points where reduplications diverge, and
either permanently or at the particular time neutralize
each other.3

The flow of ideas is, however, exposed to positive interruptions Conflict from two distinct sides,-by the intrusion of new presentations and of preby voluntary interference. The only result of such interruptions sentawhich we need here consider is the conflict of presentations that may tions. ensue. Herbart and his followers have gone so far as to elaborate a complete system of psychical statics and dynamics, based on the conception of presentations as forces and on certain more or less improbable assumptions as to the modes in which such forces interact. Since our power of attention is limited, it continually happens that attention is drawn off by new presentations at the expense of old ones. But, even if we regard this non-voluntary redistribution of attention as implying a struggle between presentations, still such conflict to secure a place in consciousness is very different from a conflict between presentations that are already there. Either may be experienced to any degree possible without the other appearing at all; as, absorbed in watching a starry sky, one might be unaware of the chilliness of the air, though recognizing at once, as soon as the cold is felt, that, so far from being incompatible, the clearness and the coldness are causally connected. This difference between a conflict of presentations to enter consciousness, if we allow for a moment the propriety of the expression, and that opposition or incompatibility of presentations which is only possible when they are in consciousness has been strangely confused by the Herbartians. In the former the intensity of the presentation is primarily alone of account; in the latter, on the More important changes are produced by the repetition contrary, quality and content are mainly concerned. Only the last of parts of the memory-train. The effect of this is not requires any notice here, since such opposition arises when the merely to prevent the evanescence of the particular image ideational continuum is interrupted in the ways just mentioned, and apparently arises in no other way. Certainly there is no such or series of images, but by partial and more or less frequent reduplications of the train upon itself to convert opposition between primary presentations: there we have the law of incopresentability preventing the presentation of opposites with it into a partially new continuum, which we might perhaps the same local sign; and their presentation with different local call the "ideational continuum." The reduplicated por- signs involves, on this level at all events, no conflict. But what tions of the train are strengthened, while at the points of has never been presented could hardly be represented, if the ideational process were undisturbed: even in our dreams white negroes divergence it becomes comparatively weakened, and this or round squares, for instance, never appear. In fact, absurd and apart from the effects of obliviscence. One who had seen bizarre as dream-imagery is, it never at any moment entails overt the queen but once would scarcely be likely to think of contradictions, though contradiction may be implicit. her without finding the attendant circumstances recur as well; this could not happen after seeing her in a hundred Generic different scenes. The central representation of the whole images. complex would have become more distinct, whereas the several diverging lines would tend to dissipate attention and, by involving opposing representations, to neutralize each other, so that probably no definite background would be reinstated. Even this central representation would be more or less generalized. It has been often remarked that one's most familiar friends are apt to be mentally pictured less concretely and vividly than persons seen in more seldom and then in similar attitudes and moods; the former case a "generic image" has grown out of such more specific representations as the latter affords. Still further removed from memory-images are the images that result from such familiar percepts as those of horses, houses, trees, &c.

Train of ideas,

Thus as the joint effect of obliviscence and reduplication
we are provided with a flow of ideas distinct from the
memory-train and thereby with the material, already more
or less organized, for intellectual and volitional manipu-
lation. We do not experience this flow-save very
momentarily and occasionally-altogether undisturbed;
even in dreams and reverie it is continually interrupted
and diverted. Nevertheless it is not difficult to ascertain
different
that, so far as it is left to itself, it takes a very
course from that which we should have to retrace if bent
on reminiscence and able to recollect perfectly. The readi-
ness and steadiness of this flow are shown by the extremely
small effort necessary in order to follow it. Nevertheless

1 So, e.g., Hamilton (following H. Schmid), Lect. on Met., ii. p.
211 sq.

2 Cf. Lotze, Metaphysik, p. 518.

"

as

But between ideas and percepts actual incompatibility is frequent. In the perplexity of Isaac, e.g.—"The voice is Jacob's voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau -we have such a case in a familiar form. There is here not merely mental arrest but actual conflict: the voice perceived identifies Jacob, at the same time the hands The images of Esau and Jacob by themselves are identify Esau. different, but do not conflict; neither is there any strain, quite the contrary, in recognizing a person partly like Jacob and partly like Esau. For there is no direct incompatibility between smooth and rough, so long as one pertains only to voice and the other only to hands, but the same hands and voice cannot be both smooth and rough. Similar incompatibilities may arise without the intrusion of percepts, as when, in trying to guess a riddle or to solve a problem, or generally to eliminate intellectual differences, we have images which in themselves are only logically opposite, psychologically opposed, or in conflict, because each strives to enter the same complex. In all such conflicts alike we find, in fact, a relation of presentations the exact converse of that which constitutes similarity. In the latter we have two complete presentations, abx and aby, similar, each including the common part ab; in the former we have two partial presentations, a and y, as contraries, each excluding the other from the incomplete ab—. And this ab, it is to be noted, is not more essential to the similarity than to the conflict. But in the one case it is a generic image (and can logically be predicated of two subjects); in the other it is a partially determined individual (and cannot be subject to opposing predicates). Except as thus supplementing ab, x and y do not conflict; black and white are not incompatible save as attributes of the same thing. The possibility of most of these conflicts-of all, indeed, that have any logical interest-lies in that reduplication of the memory-continuum which gives rise to these new complexes, generic images, or general ideas. Having thus attempted to ascertain the formation of Imaginathe ideational continuum out of the memory-train, the tion and 3 It is a mark of the looseness of much of our psychological terminology that facts of this kind are commonly described as cases of associaDr Bain calls them "obstructive association," which is about on tion. a par with "progress backwards"; Mr Sully's “divergent association is better. But it is plain that what we really have is an arrest or inhibition consequent on association, and nothing that is either itself association or that leads to association.

memory.

question arises: How now are we to distinguish between | the one hand and imagining on the other the difference
imagining and remembering, and again, between imagining primarily turns on the fixity and completeness of the
and expecting? It is plainly absurd to make the difference grouping in the former; in the latter there is a shifting
depend on the presence of belief in memory and expecta- play of images more or less "generic," reminding one of
tion and on its absence in mere imagination; for the belief "dissolving views." Hence the first two approximate in
itself depends on the difference instead of constituting it. character to perception, and are rightly called recogni-
One real and obvious distinction, however, which Hume tions. Between them, again, the difference turns primarily
pointed out as regards memory, is the fixed order and posi- on the presence or absence of temporal signs. In what is
tion of the ideas of what is remembered or expected as remembered these are still intact enough to ensure a
contrasted with "the liberty" of the imagination to trans- localization in the past of what is recognized; in what is
pose and change its ideas. This order and position in known merely such localization is prevented, either because
the case of memory are, of course, normally those of the of the obliviscence of temporal connexions or because the
original impressions, but it seems rather naive of Hume reduplications of the memory-train that have consolidated
to tell us that memory "is tied down to these without the central group have entailed their suppression. There
any power of variation," while imagination has liberty to is further the difference first mentioned, which is often
transpose as it pleases, as if the originals sat to memory only a difference of degree, viz., that remembrances have
for their portraits, while to imagination they were but more circumstantiality, so to say, than mere recognitions
studies. Such correspondence being out of the question have: more of the collateral constituents of the original
as Hume takes care to state as soon as it suits him—all we concrete field of consciousness are reinstated. But of the
have, so far, is this fixity and definiteness as contrasted two characteristics of memory proper-(a) concreteness
with the kaleidoscopic instability of ideation. In this or circumstantiality, and (b) localization in the past-the
respect what is remembered or expected resembles what is latter is the more essential. It sometimes happens that
perceived the grouping not only does not change caprici- we have the one with little or nothing of the other. For
ously and spontaneously, but resists any mental efforts to example, we may have but a faint and meagre representa-
change it. But, provided these characteristics are there, tion of a scene, yet if it falls into and retains a fixed
we should be apt to believe that we are remembering, just place in the memory-train we have no doubt that some
as, mutatis mutandis, with like characteristics we might such experience was once actually ours. On the other
believe that we were perceiving: hallucination is possible hand, as in certain so-called illusions of memory, we may
in either case.
suddenly find ourselves reminded by what is happening
at the moment of a preceding experience exactly like it—
some even feel that they know from what is thus recalled
what will happen next; and yet, because we are wholly
unable to assign such representation a place in the past,
instead of a belief that it happened, there arises a most
distressing sense of bewilderment, as if one were haunted
and had lost one's personal bearings. It has been held
by some psychologists that memory proper includes the
representation of one's past self as agent or patient in the
event or situation recalled. And this is true as regards
all but the earliest human experience, at any rate; still,
whereas it is easy to see that memory is essential to any
development of self-consciousness, the converse is not at
all clear, and would involve us in a needless circle.

This fixity of order and position is, however, not sufficient to constitute a typical remembrance where the term is exactly used. But remembering is often regarded as equivalent to knowing and recognizing, as when on revisiting some once familiar place one remarks, "How well I remember it!" What is meant is that the place is recognized, and that its recognition awakens memories. Memory includes recognition; recognition as such does not include memory. In human consciousness, as we directly observe it, there is, perhaps, no pure recognition: here the new presentation is not only assimilated to the old, but the former framing of circumstance is reinstated, and so perforce distinguished from the present. It may be there is no warrant for supposing that such redintegration of a preceding field is ever absolutely nil, still we are justified in regarding it as extremely vague and meagre, both where mental evolution is but slightly advanced and where frequent repetition in varying and irrelevant circumstances has produced a blurred and neutral zone. The last is the case with a great part of our knowledge; the writer happens to know that bos is the Latin for "ox" and bufo the Latin for "toad," and may be said to remember both items of knowledge, if "remember" is only to be synonymous with "retain." But if he came across bos in reading he would think of an ox and nothing more; bufo would immediately call up not only "toad" but Virgil's Georgics, the only place in which he has seen the word, and which he never read but once. In the former there is so far nothing but recognition (which, however, of course rests upon retentiveness); in the latter there is also remembrance of the time and circumstances in which that piece of knowledge was acquired. Of course in so far as we are aware that we recognize we also think that remembrance is at any rate possible, since what we know we must previously have learned,-recognition excluding novelty. But the point here urged is that there is an actual remembrance only when the recognition is accompanied by a reinstatement of portions of the memory-train continuous with the previous presentation of what is now recognized. Summarily stated, we may say that between knowing and remembering on

2

1

Intimately connected with memory is expectation. We Expectamay as the result of reasoning conclude that a certain tion. event will happen; we may also, in like manner, conclude that a certain other event has happened. But as we should not call the latter memory, so it is desirable to distinguish such indirect anticipation as the former from that expectation which is directly due to the interaction of ideas. Any man knows that he will die, and may make a variety of arrangements in anticipation of death, but he cannot with propriety be said to be expecting it unless he has actually present to his mind a series of ideas ending in that of death, such series being due to previous associations, and unless, further, this series owes its representation at this moment to the actual recurrence of some experience to which that series succeeded before. And as familiarity with an object or event in very various settings may be a bar to recollection, so it may be to expectation: the average Englishman, e.g., is continually surprised without his umbrella, though only too familiar with rain, since in his climate one not specially attentive to the weather obtains no clear representation of its successive phases. But after a series of events ABCDE... has been once experienced we instinctively expect the recurrence 1 Any full discussion of these very interesting states of mind belongs to mental pathology.

As, e.g., James Mill (Analysis of the Human Mind, ch. x.), who treats this difficult subject with great acuteness and thoroughness.