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Chapter VII: Introduction (4)

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Among the races who are thus gifted are the commonly despised, but, as I confidently maintain from personal knowledge of them, the much underrated Bushmen of South Africa. They are no doubt deficient in the natural instincts necessary to civilisation, for they detest a regular life, they are inveterate thieves, and are incapable of withstanding the temptation of strong drink. On the other hand, they have few superiors among barbarians in the ingenious methods by which they supply the wants of a difficult existence, and in the effectiveness and nattiness of their accoutrements. One of their habits is to draw pictures on the walls of caves of men and animals, and to colour them with ochre. These drawings were once numerous, but they have been sadly destroyed by advancing colonisation, and few of them, and indeed few wild Bushmen, now exist. Fortunately a large and valuable collection of facsimiles of Bushman art was made before it became too late by Mr. Stow, of the Cape Colony, who has very lately sent some specimens of them to this country, in the hope that means might be found for the publication of the entire series. Among the many pictures of animals in each of the large sheets full of them, I was particularly struck with one of an eland as giving a just idea of the precision and purity of their best work. Others, again, were exhibited last summer at the Anthropological Institute by Mr. Hutchinson.

The method by which the Bushmen draw is described in the following extract from a letter written to me by Dr. Mann, the well-known authority on South African matters of science. The boy to whom he refers belonged to a wild tribe living in caves in the Drakenberg, who plundered outlying farms, and were pursued by the neighbouring colonists. He was wounded and captured, then sent to hospital, and subsequently taken into service. He was under Dr. Mann's observation in the year 1860, and has recently died, to the great regret of his employer, Mr. Proudfoot, to whom he became a valuable servant.

Dr. Mann writes as follows:--

"This lad was very skilful in the proverbial Bushman art of drawing animal figures, and upon several occasions I induced him to show me how this was managed among his people. He invariably began by jotting down upon paper or on a slate a number of isolated dots which presented no connection or trace of outline of any kind to the uninitiated eye, but looked like the stars scattered promiscuously in the sky. Having with much deliberation satisfied himself of the sufficiency of these dots, he forthwith began to run a free bold line from one to the other, and as he did so the form of an animal--horse, buffalo, elephant, or some kind of antelope--gradually developed itself. This was invariably done with a free hand, and with such unerring accuracy of touch, that no correction of a line was at any time attempted. I understood from the lad that this was the plan which was invariably pursued by his kindred in making their clever pictures."

It is impossible, I think, for a drawing to be made on this method unless the artist had a clear image in his mind's eye of what he was about to draw, and was able, in some degree, to project it on the paper or slate.

Other living races have the gift of drawing, but none more so than the Eskimo. I will therefore speak of these and not of the Australian and Tasmanian pictures, nor of the still ruder performances of the old inhabitants of Guiana, nor of those of some North American tribes, as the Iroquois. The Eskimos are geographers by instinct, and appear to see vast tracts of country mapped out in their heads. From the multitude of illustrations of their map-drawing powers, I may mention one of those included in the journals of Captain Hall, at p. 224, which were published in 1879 by the United States Government, under the editorship of Professor J. E. Nourse. It is the facsimile of a chart drawn by an Eskimo who was a thorough barbarian in the accepted sense of the word; that is to say, he spoke no language besides his own uncouth tongue, he was wholly uneducated according to our modern ideas, and he lived in what we should call a savage fashion. This man drew from memory a chart of the region over which he had at one time or another gone in his canoe. It extended from Pond's Bay, in lat. 73°, to Fort Churchill, in lat. 58°44', over a distance in a straight line of more than 960 nautical, or 1100 English miles, the coast being so indented by arms of the sea that its length is six times as great. On comparing this rough Eskimo outline with the Admiralty chart of 1870, their accordance is remarkable. I have seen many MS. route maps made by travellers a few years since, when the scientific exploration of the world was much less advanced than it is now, and I can confidently say that I have never known of any traveller, white or brown, civilised or uncivilised, in Africa, Asia, or Australia, who, being unprovided with surveying instruments, and trusting to his memory alone, has produced a chart comparable in extent and accuracy to that of this barbarous Eskimo. The aptitude of the Eskimos to draw, is abundantly shown by the numerous illustrations in Rink's work, all of which were made by self-taught men, and are thoroughly realistic.

So much for the wild races of the present day; but even the Eskimo are equalled in their power of drawing by the men of old times. In ages so far gone by, that the interval that separates them from our own may be measured in perhaps hundreds of thousands of years, when Europe was mostly icebound, a race who, in the opinion of all anthropologists, was closely allied to the modern Eskimo, lived in caves in the more habitable places. Many broken relics of that race have been found; some few of these are of bone engraved with flints or carved into figures, and among these are representations of the mammoth, elk, and reindeer, which, if made by an English labourer with the much better implements at his command, would certainly attract local attention and lead to his being properly educated, and in much likelihood to his becoming a considerable artist if he had intellectual powers to match.

It is not at all improbable that these prehistoric men had the same geographical instincts as the modern Eskimo, whom they closely resemble in every known respect. If so, it is perfectly possible that scraps of charts scratched on bone or stone, of prehistoric Europe, when the distribution of land, sea, and ice was very different to what it is now, may still exist, buried underground, and may reward the zeal of some future cave explorer.

There is abundant evidence that the visualising faculty admits of being developed by education. The testimony on which I would lay especial stress is derived from the published experiences of M. Lecoq de Boisbaudran, late director of the École Nationale de Dessein, in Paris, which are related in his _Education de la M. émoire Pittoresque_ [1] He trained his pupils with extraordinary success, beginning with the simplest figures. They were made to study the models thoroughly before they tried to draw them from memory. One favourite expedient was to associate the sight memory with the muscular memory, by making his pupils follow at a distance the outlines of the figures with a pencil held in their hands. After three or four months' practice, their visual memory became greatly strengthened. They had no difficulty in summoning images at will, in holding them steady, and in drawing them. Their copies [7] were executed with marvellous fidelity, as attested by a commission of the Institute, appointed in 1852 to inquire into the matter, of which the eminent painter Horace Vernet was a member. The present Slade Professor of Fine Arts at University College, M. Légros, was a pupil of M. de Boisbaudran. He has expressed to me his indebtedness to the system, and he has assured me of his own success in teaching others in a somewhat similar way.

[Footnote 7: Republished in an 8vo, entitled _Enseignment Artistique_. Morel et Cie. Paris, 1879.]

Colonel Moncrieff informs me that, when wintering in 1877 near Fort Garry in North America, young Indians occasionally came to his quarters, and that he found them much interested in any pictures or prints that were put before them. On one of these occasions he saw an Indian tracing the outline of a print from the _Illustrated News_ very carefully with the point of his knife. The reason he gave for this odd manoeuvre was, that he would remember the better how to carve it when he returned home.

I could mention instances within my own experience in which the visualising faculty has become strengthened by practice; notably one of an eminent electrical engineer, who had the power of recalling form with unusual precision, but not colour. A few weeks after he had replied to my questions, he told me that my inquiries had induced him to practise his colour memory, and that he had done so with such success that he was become quite an adept at it, and that the newly-acquired power was a source of much pleasure to him.

A useful faculty, easily developed by practice, is that of retaining a retinal picture. A scene is flashed upon the eye; the memory of it persists, and details, which escaped observation during the brief time when it was actually seen, may be analysed and studied at leisure in the subsequent vision.

The memories we should aim at acquiring are, however, such as are based on a thorough understanding of the objects observed. In no case is this more surely effected than in the processes of mechanical drawing, where the intended structure has to be portrayed so exactly in plan, elevation, side view, and sections, that the workman has simply to copy the drawing in metal, wood, or stone, as the case may be. It is undoubtedly the fact that mechanicians, engineers, and architects usually possess the faculty of seeing mental images with remarkable clearness and precision.

A few dots like those used by the Bushmen give great assistance in creating an imaginary picture, as proved by our general habit of working out ideas by the help of marks and rude lines. The use of dolls by children also testifies to the value of an objective support in the construction of mental images. The doll serves as a kind of skeleton for the child to clothe with fantastic attributes, and the less individuality the doll has, the more it is appreciated by the child, who can the better utilise it as a lay figure in many different characters. The chief art of strengthening visual, as well as every other form of memory, lies in multiplying associations; the healthiest memory being that in which all the associations are logical, and toward which all the senses concur in their due proportions. It is wonderful how much the vividness of a recollection is increased when two or more lines of association are simultaneously excited. Thus the inside of a known house is much better visualised when we are looking at its outside than when we are away from it, and some chess-players have told me that it is easier for them to play a game from memory when they have a blank board before them than when they have not.

There is an absence of flexibility in the mental imagery of most persons. They find that the first image they have acquired of any scene is apt to hold its place tenaciously in spite of subsequent need of correction. They find a difficulty in shifting their mental view of an object, and examining it at pleasure in different positions. If they see an object equally often in many positions the memories combine and confuse one another, forming a "composite" blur, which they cannot dissect into its components. They are less able to visualise the features of intimate friends than those of persons of whom they have caught only a single glance. Many such persons have expressed to me their grief at finding themselves powerless to recall the looks of dear relations whom they had lost, while they had no difficulty in recollecting faces that were uninteresting to them.

Others have a complete mastery over their mental images. They can call up the figure of a friend and make it sit on a chair or stand up at will; they can make it turn round and attitudinise in any way, as by mounting it on a bicycle or compelling it to perform gymnastic feats on a trapeze. They are able to build up elaborate geometric structures bit by bit in their mind's eye, and add, subtract, or alter at will and at leisure. This free action of a vivid visualising faculty is of much importance in connection with the higher processes of generalised thought, though it is commonly put to no such purpose, as may be easily explained by an example. Suppose a person suddenly to accost another with the following words:-- "I want to tell you about a boat." What is the idea that the word "boat" would be likely to call up? I tried the experiment with this result. One person, a young lady, said that she immediately saw the image of a rather large boat pushing off from the shore, and that it was full of ladies and gentlemen, the ladies being dressed in white and blue. It is obvious that a tendency to give so specific an interpretation to a general word is absolutely opposed to philosophic thought. Another person, who was accustomed to philosophise, said that the word "boat" had aroused no definite image, because he had purposely held his mind in suspense. He had exerted himself not to lapse into any one of the special ideas that he felt the word boat was ready to call up, such as a skiff, wherry, barge, launch, punt, or dingy. Much more did he refuse to think of any one of these with any particular freight or from any particular point of view. A habit of suppressing mental imagery must therefore characterise men who deal much with abstract ideas; and as the power of dealing easily and firmly with these ideas is the surest criterion of a high order of intellect, we should expect that the visualising faculty would be starved by disuse among philosophers, and this is precisely what I found on inquiry to be the case.

But there is no reason why it should be so, if the faculty is free in its action, and not tied to reproduce hard and persistent forms; it may then produce generalised pictures out of its past experiences quite automatically. It has no difficulty in reducing images to the same scale, owing to our constant practice in watching objects as they approach or recede, and consequently grow or diminish in apparent size. It readily shifts images to any desired point of the field of view, owing to our habit of looking at bodies in motion to the right or left, upward or downward. It selects images that present the same aspect, either by a simple act of memory or by a feat of imagination that forces them into the desired position, and it has little or no difficulty in reversing them from right to left, as if seen in a looking-glass. In illustration of these generalised mental images, let us recur to the boat, and suppose the speaker to continue as follows:--"The boat was a four-oared racing-boat, it was passing quickly to the left just in front of me, and the men were bending forward to take a fresh stroke." Now at this point of the story the listener ought to have a picture well before his eye. It ought to have the distinctness of a real four-oar going to the left, at the moment when many of its details still remained unheeded, such as the dresses of the men and their individual features. It would be the generic image of a four-oar formed by the combination into a single picture of a great many sight memories of those boats.

In the highest minds a descriptive word is sufficient to evoke crowds of shadowy associations, each striving to manifest itself. When they differ so much from one another as to be unfitted for combination into a single idea, there will be a conflict, each being prevented by the rest from obtaining sole possession of the field of consciousness. There could, therefore, be no definite imagery so long as the aggregate of all the pictures that the word suggested of objects presenting similar aspects, reduced to the same size, and accurately superposed, resulted in a blur; but a picture would gradually evolve as qualifications were added to the word, and it would attain to the distinctness and vividness of a generic image long before the word had been so restricted as to be individualised. If the intellect be slow, though correct in its operations, the associations will be few, and the generalised image based on insufficient data. If the visualising power be faint, the generalised image will be indistinct.

I cannot discover any closer relation between high visualising power and the intellectual faculties than between verbal memory and those same faculties. That it must afford immense help in some professions stands to reason, but in ordinary social life the possession of a high visualising power, as of a high verbal memory, may pass quite unobserved. I have to the last failed in anticipating the character of the answers that my friends would give to my inquiries, judging from my previous knowledge of them; though I am bound to say that, having received their answers, I could usually persuade myself that they were justified by my recollections of their previous sayings and conduct generally.

The faculty is undoubtedly useful in a high degree to inventive mechanicians, and the great majority of those whom I have questioned have spoken of their powers as very considerable. They invent their machines as they walk, and see them in height, breadth, and depth as real objects, and they can also see them in action. In fact, a periodic action of any kind appears to be easily recalled. But the powers of other men are considerably less; thus an engineer officer who has himself great power of visual memory, and who has superintended the mathematical education of cadets, doubts if one in ten can visualise an object in three dimensions. I should have thought the faculty would be common among geometricians, but many of the highest seem able somehow to get on without much of it. There is a curious dictum of Napoleon I. quoted in Hume's _Précis of Modern Tactics_, p. 15, of which I can neither find the original authority nor do I fully understand the meaning. He is reported to have said that "there are some who, from some physical or moral peculiarity of character, form a picture (_tableau_) of everything. No matter what knowledge, intellect, courage, or good qualities they may have, these men are unfit to command." It is possible that "tableau" should be construed rather in the sense of a pictorial composition, which, like an epigrammatic sentence, may be very complete and effective, but not altogether true.

There can, however, be no doubt as to the utility of the visualising faculty when it is duly subordinated to the higher intellectual operations. A visual image is the most perfect form of mental representation wherever the shape, position, and relations of objects in space are concerned. It is of importance in every handicraft and profession where design is required. The best workmen are those who visualise the whole of what they propose to do, before they take a tool in their hands. The village smith and the carpenter who are employed on odd jobs employ it no less for their work than the mechanician, the engineer, and the architect. The lady's maid who arranges a new dress requires it for the same reason as the decorator employed on a palace, or the agent who lays out great estates. Strategists, artists of all denominations, physicists who contrive new experiments, and in short all who do not follow routine, have need of it. The pleasure its use can afford is immense. I have many correspondents who say that the delight of recalling beautiful scenery and great works of art is the highest that they know; they carry whole picture galleries in their minds. Our bookish and wordy education tends to repress this valuable gift of nature. A faculty that is of importance in all technical and artistic occupations, that gives accuracy to our perceptions, and justness to our generalisations, is starved by lazy disuse, instead of being cultivated judiciously in such a way as will on the whole bring the best return. I believe that a serious study of the best method of developing and utilising this faculty, without prejudice to the practice of abstract thought in symbols, is one of the many pressing desiderata in the yet unformed science of education.

NUMBER-FORMS.

Persons who are imaginative almost invariably think of _numerals_ in some form of visual imagery. If the idea of _six_ occurs to them, the word "six" does not sound in their mental ear, but the figure 6 in a written or printed form rises before their mental eye. The clearness of the images of numerals, and the number of them that can be mentally viewed at the same time, differs greatly in different persons. The most common case is to see only two or three figures at once, and in a position too vague to admit of definition. There are a few persons in whom the visualising faculty is so low that they can mentally see neither numerals nor anything else; and again there are a few in whom it is so high as to give rise to hallucinations. Those who are able to visualise a numeral with a distinctness comparable to reality, and to behold it as if it were before their eyes, and not in some sort of dreamland, will define the direction in which it seems to lie, and the distance at which it appears to be. If they were looking at a ship on the horizon at the moment that the figure 6 happened to present itself to their minds, they could say whether the image lay to the left or right of the ship, and whether it was above or below the line of the horizon; they could always point to a definite spot in space, and say with more or less precision that that was the direction in which the image of the figure they were thinking of, first appeared.

Now the strange psychological fact to which I desire to draw attention, is that among persons who visualise figures clearly there are many who notice that the image of the same figure invariably makes its first appearance in the same direction, and at the same distance. Such a person would always see the figure when it first appeared to him at (we may suppose) one point of the compass to the left of the line between his eye and the ship, at the level of the horizon, and at twenty feet distance. Again, we may suppose that he would see the figure 7 invariably half a point to the left of the ship, at an altitude equal to the sun's diameter above the horizon, and at thirty feet distance; similarly for all the other figures. Consequently, when he thinks of the series of numerals 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., they show themselves in a definite pattern that always occupies an identical position in his field of view with respect to the direction in which he is looking.

Those who do not see figures with the same objectivity, use nevertheless the same expressions with reference to their mental field of view. They can draw what they see in a manner fairly satisfactory to themselves, but they do not locate it so strictly in reference to their axis of sight and to the horizontal plane that passes through it. It is with them as in dreams, the imagery is before and around, but the eyes during sleep are turned inwards and upwards.

The pattern or "Form" in which the numerals are seen is by no means the same in different persons, but assumes the most grotesque variety of shapes, which run in all sorts of angles, bends, curves, and zigzags as represented in the various illustrations to this chapter. The drawings, however, fail in giving the idea of their apparent size to those who see them; they usually occupy a wider range than the mental eye can take in at a single glance, and compel it to wander. Sometimes they are nearly panoramic.

These Forms have for the most part certain characteristics in common. They are stated in all cases to have been in existence, so far as the earlier numbers in the Form are concerned, as long back as the memory extends; they come into view quite independently of the will, and their shape and position, at all events in the mental field of view, is nearly invariable. They have other points in common to which I shall shortly draw attention, but first I will endeavour to remove all doubt as to the authenticity and trustworthiness of these statements.

I see no "Form" myself, and first ascertained that such a thing existed through a letter from Mr. G. Bidder, Q.C., in which he described his own case as a very curious peculiarity. I was at the time making inquiries about the strength of the visualising faculty in different persons, and among the numerous replies that reached me I soon collected ten or twelve other cases in which the writers spoke of their seeing numerals in definite forms. Though the information came from independent sources, the expressions used were so closely alike that they strongly corroborated one another. Of course I eagerly followed up the inquiry, and when I had collected enough material to justify publication, I wrote an account which appeared in _Nature_ on 15th January 1880, with several illustrations. This has led to a wide correspondence and to a much-increased store of information, which enables me to arrive at the following conclusions. The answers I received whenever I have pushed my questions, have been straightforward and precise. I have not unfrequently procured a second sketch of the Form even after more than two years' interval, and found it to agree closely with the first one. I have also questioned many of my own friends in general terms as to whether they visualise numbers in any particular way. The large majority are unable to do so. But every now and then I meet with persons who possess the faculty, and I have become familiar with the quick look of intelligence with which they receive my question. It is as though some chord had been struck which had not been struck before, and the verbal answers they give me are precisely of the same type as those written ones of which I have now so many. I cannot doubt of the authenticity of independent statements which closely confirm one another, nor of the general accuracy of the accompanying sketches, because I find now that my collection is large enough for classification, that they might be arranged in an approximately continuous series. I am often told that the peculiarity is common to the speaker and to some near relative, and that they had found such to be the case by accident. I have the strongest evidence of its hereditary character after allowing, and over-allowing, for all conceivable influences of education and family tradition.

Last of all, I took advantage of the opportunity afforded by a meeting of the Anthropological Institute to read a memoir there on the subject, and to bring with me many gentlemen well known in the scientific world, who have this habit of seeing numerals in Forms, and whose diagrams were suspended on the walls. Amongst them are Mr. G. Bidder, Q.C., the Rev. Mr. G. Henslow, the botanist; Prof. Schuster, F.R.S., the physicist; Mr. Roget, Mr. Woodd Smith, and Colonel Yule, C.B., the geographer. These diagrams are given in Plate I. Figs. 20-24. I wished that some of my foreign correspondents could also have been present, such as M. Antoine d'Abbadie, the well-known French traveller and Membre de l'Institut, and Baron v. Osten Sacken, the Russian diplomatist and entomologist, for they had given and procured me much information.

I feel sure that I have now said enough to remove doubts as to the authenticity of my data. Their trustworthiness will, I trust, be still more apparent as I proceed; it has been abundantly manifest to myself from the internal evidences in a large mass of correspondence, to which I can unfortunately do no adequate justice in a brief memoir. It remains to treat the data in the same way as any other scientific facts and to extract as much meaning from them as possible.

The peculiarity in question is found, speaking very roughly, in about 1 out of every 30 adult males or 15 females. It consists in the sudden and automatic appearance of a vivid and invariable "Form" in the mental field of view, whenever a numeral is thought of, in which each numeral has its own definite place. This Form may consist of a mere line of any shape, of a peculiarly arranged row or rows of figures, or of a shaded space.

I give woodcuts of representative specimens of these Forms, and very brief descriptions of them extracted from the letters of my correspondents. Sixty-three other diagrams on a smaller scale will be found in Plates I., II. and III., and two more which are coloured are given in Plate IV.

D.A. "From the very first I have seen numerals up to nearly 200, range themselves always in a particular manner, and in thinking of a number it always takes its place in the figure. The more attention I give to the properties of numbers and their interpretations, the less I am troubled with this clumsy framework for them, but it is indelible in my mind's eye even when for a long time less consciously so. The higher numbers are to me quite abstract and unconnected with a shape. This rough and untidy [8] production is the best I can do towards representing what I see. There was a little difficulty in the performance, because it is only by catching oneself at unawares, so to speak, that one is quite sure that what one sees is not affected by temporary imagination. But it does not seem much like, chiefly because the mental picture never seems _on_ the flat but _in_ a thick, dark gray atmosphere deepening in certain parts, especially where 1 emerges, and about 20. How I get from 100 to 120 I hardly know, though if I could require these figures a few times without thinking of them on purpose, I should soon notice. About 200 I lose all framework. I do not see the actual figures very distinctly, but what there is of them is distinguished from the dark by a thin whitish tracing. It is the place they take and the shape they make collectively which is invariable. Nothing more definitely takes its place than a person's age. The person is usually there so long as his age is in mind."

[Footnote 8: The engraver took much pains to interpret the meaning of the rather faint but carefully made drawing, by strengthening some of the shades. The result was very very satisfactory, judging from the author's own view of it, which is as follows:--"Certainly if the engraver has been as successful with all the other representations as with that of my shape and its accompaniments, your article must be entirely correct."]

T. M. "The representation I carry in my mind of the numerical series is quite distinct to me, so much so that I cannot think of any number but I at once see it (as it were) in its peculiar place in the diagram. My remembrance of dates is also nearly entirely dependent on a clear mental vision of their _loci_ in the diagram. This, as nearly as I can draw it, is the following:--"

"It is only approximately correct (if the term 'correct' be at all applicable). The numbers seem to approach more closely as I ascend from 10 to 20, 30, 40, etc. The lines embracing a hundred numbers also seem to approach as I go on to 400, 500, to 1000. Beyond 1000 I have only the sense of an infinite line in the direction of the arrow, losing itself in darkness towards the millions. Any special number of thousands returns in my mind to its position in the parallel lines from 1 to 1000. The diagram was present in my mind from early childhood; I remember that I learnt the multiplication table by reference to it at the age of seven or eight. I need hardly say that the impression is not that of perfectly straight lines, I have therefore used no ruler in drawing it."

J.S. "The figures are about a quarter of an inch in length, and in ordinary type. They are black on a white ground. The numeral 200 generally takes the place of 100 and obliterates it. There is no light or shade, and the picture is invariable."

etc. etc.
120+---------------
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In some cases, the mental eye has to travel along the faintly-marked and blank paths of a Form, to the place where the numeral that is wanted is known to reside, and then the figure starts into sight. In other cases all the numerals, as far as 100 or more, are faintly seen at once, but the figure that is wanted grows more vivid than its neighbours; in one of the cases there is, as it were, a chain, and the particular link rises as if an unseen hand had lifted it. The Forms are sometimes variously coloured, occasionally very brilliantly (see Plate IV.). In all of these the definition and illumination vary much in different parts. Usually the Forms fade away into indistinctness after 100; sometimes they come to a dead stop. The higher numbers very rarely fill so large a space in the Forms as the lower ones, and the diminution of space occupied by them is so increasingly rapid that I thought it not impossible they might diminish according to some geometrical law, such as that which governs sensitivity. I took many careful measurements and averaged them, but the result did not justify the supposition.

It is beyond dispute that these forms originate at an early age; they are subsequently often developed in boyhood and youth so as to include the higher numbers, and, among mathematical students, the negative values.

Nearly all of my correspondents speak with confidence of their Forms having been in existence as far back as they recollect. One states that he knows he possessed it at the age of four; another, that he learnt his multiplication table by the aid of the elaborate mental diagram he still uses. Not one in ten is able to suggest any clue as to their origin. They cannot be due to anything written or printed, because they do not simulate what is found in ordinary writings or books.

About one-third of the figures are curved to the left, two-thirds to the right; they run more often upward than downward. They do not commonly lie in a single plane. Sometimes a Form has twists as well as bends, sometimes it is turned upside down, sometimes it plunges into an abyss of immeasurable depth, or it rises and disappears in the sky. My correspondents are often in difficulties when trying to draw them in perspective. One sent me a stereoscopic picture photographed from a wire that had been bent into the proper shape. In one case the Form proceeds at first straightforward, then it makes a backward sweep high above head, and finally recurves into the pocket, of all places! It is often sloped upwards at a slight inclination from a little below the level of the eye, just as objects on a table would appear to a child whose chin was barely above it.

It may seem strange that children should have such bold conceptions as of curves sweeping loftily upward or downward to immeasurable depths, but I think it may be accounted for by their much larger personal experience of the vertical dimension of space than adults. They are lifted, tossed and swung, but adults pass their lives very much on a level, and only judge of heights by inference from the picture on their retina. Whenever a man first ventures up in a balloon, or is let, like a gatherer of sea-birds' eggs, over the face of a precipice, he is conscious of having acquired a much extended experience of the third dimension of space.

The character of the forms under which historical dates are visualised contrast strongly with the ordinary Number-Forms. They are sometimes copied from the numerical ones, but they are more commonly based both clearly and consciously on the diagrams used in the schoolroom or on some recollected fancy.

The months of the year are usually perceived as ovals, and they as often follow one another in a reverse direction to those of the figures on the clock, as in the same direction. It is a common peculiarity that the months do not occupy equal spaces, but those that are most important to the child extend more widely than the rest. There are many varieties as to the topmost month; it is by no means always January.

The Forms of the letters of the alphabet, when imaged, as they sometimes are, in that way, are equally easy to be accounted for, therefore the ordinary Number-Form is the oldest of all, and consequently the most interesting. I suppose that it first came into existence when the child was learning to count, and was used by him as a natural mnemonic diagram, to which he referred the spoken words "one," "two," "three," etc. Also, that as soon as he began to read, the visual symbol figures supplanted their verbal sounds, and permanently established themselves on the Form. It therefore existed at an earlier date than that at which the child began to learn to read; it represents his mental processes at a time of which no other record remains; it persists in vigorous activity, and offers itself freely to our examination.

The teachers of many schools and colleges, some in America, have kindly questioned their pupils for me; the results are given in the two first columns of Plate I. It appears that the proportion of young people who see numerals in Forms is greater than that of adults. But for the most part their Forms are neither well defined nor complicated. I conclude that when they are too faint to be of service they are gradually neglected, and become wholly forgotten; while if they are vivid and useful, they increase in vividness and definition by the effect of habitual use. Hence, in adults, the two classes of seers and non-seers are rather sharply defined, the connecting link of intermediate cases which is observable in childhood having disappeared.

These Forms are the most remarkable existing instances of what is called "topical" memory, the essence of which appears to lie in the establishment of a more exact system of division of labour in the different parts of the brain, than is usually carried on. Topical aids to memory are of the greatest service to many persons, and teachers of mnemonics make large use of them, as by advising a speaker to mentally associate the corners, etc., of a room with the chief divisions of the speech he is about to deliver. Those who feel the advantage of these aids most strongly are the most likely to cultivate the use of numerical forms. I have read many books on mnemonics, and cannot doubt their utility to some persons; to myself the system is of no avail whatever, but simply a stumbling-block, nevertheless I am well aware that many of my early associations are fanciful and silly.

The question remains, why do the lines of the Forms run in such strange and peculiar ways? the reply is, that different persons have natural fancies for different lines and curves. Their handwriting shows this, for handwriting is by no means solely dependent on the balance of the muscles of the hand, causing such and such strokes to be made with greater facility than others. Handwriting is greatly modified by the fashion of the time. It is in reality a compromise between what the writer most likes to produce, and what he can produce with the greatest ease to himself. I am sure, too, that I can trace a connection between the general look of the handwritings of my various correspondents and the lines of their Forms. If a spider were to visualise numerals, we might expect he would do so in some web-shaped fashion, and a bee in hexagons. The definite domestic architecture of all animals as seen in their nests and holes shows the universal tendency of each species to pursue their work according to certain definite lines and shapes, which are to them instinctive and in no way, we may presume, logical. The same is seen in the groups and formations of flocks of gregarious animals and in the flights of gregarious birds, among which the wedge-shaped phalanx of wild ducks and the huge globe of soaring storks are as remarkable as any.

I used to be much amused during past travels in watching the different lines of search that were pursued by different persons in looking for objects lost on the ground, when the encampment was being broken up. Different persons had decided idiosyncracies, so much so that if their travelling line of sight could have scored a mark on the ground, I think the system of each person would have been as characteristic as his Number-Form.

Children learn their figures to some extent by those on the clock. I cannot, however, trace the influence of the clock on the Forms in more than a few cases. In two of them the clock-face actually appears, in others it has evidently had a strong influence, and in the rest its influence is indicated, but nothing more. I suppose that the complex Roman numerals in the clock do not fit in sufficiently well with the simpler ideas based upon the Arabic ones.

The other traces of the origin of the Forms that appear here and there, are dominoes, cards, counters, an abacus, the fingers, counting by coins, feet and inches (a yellow carpenter's rule appears in one case with 56 in large figures upon it), the country surrounding the child's home, with its hills and dales, objects in the garden (one scientific man sees the old garden walk and the numeral 7 at a tub sunk in the ground where his father filled his watering-pot). Some associations seem connected with the objects spoken of in the doggerel verses by which children are often taught their numbers.

But the paramount influence proceeds from the names of the numerals. Our nomenclature is perfectly barbarous, and that of other civilised nations is not better than ours, and frequently worse, as the French "quatre-vingt dix-huit," or "four score, ten and eight," instead of ninety-eight. We speak of ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, etc., in defiance of the beautiful system of decimal notation in which we write those numbers. What we see is one-naught, one-one, one-two, etc., and we should pronounce on that principle, with this proviso, that the word for the "one" having to show both the place and the value, should have a sound suggestive of "one" but not identical with it. Let us suppose it to be the letter _o_ pronounced short as in "on," then instead of ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, etc., we might say _on-naught, on-one, on-two, on-three_, etc.

The conflict between the two systems creates a perplexity, to which conclusive testimony is borne by these numerical forms. In most of them there is a marked hitch at the 12, and this repeats itself at the 120. The run of the lines between 1 and 20 is rarely analogous to that between 20 and 100, where it usually first becomes regular. The 'teens frequently occupy a larger space than their due. It is not easy to define in words the variety of traces of the difficulty and annoyance caused by our unscientific nomenclature, that are portrayed vividly, and, so to speak, painfully in these pictures. They are indelible scars that testify to the effort and ingenuity with which a sort of compromise was struggled for and has finally been effected between the verbal and decimal systems. I am sure that this difficulty is more serious and abiding than has been suspected, not only from the persistency of these twists, which would have long since been smoothed away if they did not continue to subserve some useful purpose, but also from experiments on my own mind. I find I can deal mentally with simple sums with much less strain if I audibly conceive the figures as on-naught, on-one, etc., and I can both dictate and write from dictation with much less trouble when that system or some similar one is adopted. I have little doubt that our nomenclature is a serious though unsuspected hindrance to the ready adoption by the public of a decimal system of weights and measures. Three quarters of the Forms bear a duodecimal impress.

I will now give brief explanations of the Number-Forms drawn in Plates I., II., and III., and in the two front figures in Plate IV.

DESCRIPTION OF PLATE I.

Fig. 1 is by Mr. Walter Larden, science-master of Cheltenham College, who sent me a very interesting and elaborate account of his own case, which by itself would make a memoir; and he has collected other information for me. The Number-Forms of one of his colleagues and of that gentleman's sister are given in Figs. 53, 54, Plate III. I extract the following from Mr. Larden's letter--it is all for which I can find space:--

"All numbers are to me as images of figures in general; I see them in ordinary Arabic type (except in some special cases), and they have definite positions in space (as shown in the Fig.). Beyond 100 I am conscious of coming down a dotted line to the position of 1 again, and of going over the same cycle exactly as before, _e.g._ with 120 in the place of 20, and so on up to 140 or 150. With higher numbers the imagery is less definite; thus, for 1140, I can only say that there are no new positions, I do not see the entire number in the place of 40; but if I think of it as 11 hundred and 40, I see 40 in its place, 11 in its place, and 100 in its place; the picture is not single though the ideas combine. I seem to stand near 1. I have to turn somewhat to see from 30-40, and more and more to see from 40-100; 100 lies high up to my right and behind me. I see no shading nor colour in the figures."

Figs. 2 to 6 are from returns collected for me by the Rev. A.D. Hill, science-master of Winchester College, who sent me replies from 135 boys of an average age of 14-15. He says, speaking of their replies to my numerous questions on visualising generally, that they "represent fairly those who could answer anything; the boys certainly seemed interested in the subject; the others, who had no such faculty either attempting and failing, or not finding any response in their minds, took no interest in the inquiry." A very remarkable case of hereditary colour association was sent to me by Mr. Hill, to which I shall refer later. The only five good cases of Number-Forms among the 135 boys are those shown in the Figs. I need only describe Fig. 2. The boy says:--"Numbers, except the first twenty, appear in waves; the two crossing-lines, 60-70, 140-150, never appear at the _same time_. The first twelve are the image of a clock, and 13-20 a continuation of them."

Figs. 7, 8, are sent me by Mr. Henry F. Osborn of Princeton in the United States, who has given cordial assistance in obtaining information as regards visualising generally. These two are the only Forms included in sixty returns that he sent, 34 of which were from Princeton College, and the remaining 26 from Vassar (female) College. Figs. 9-19 and Fig. 28 are from returns communicated by Mr. W.H. Poole, science-master of Charterhouse College, which are very valuable to me as regards visualising power generally. He read my questions before a meeting of about 60 boys, who all consented to reply, and he had several subsequent volunteers. All the answers were short, straightforward, and often amusing. Subsequently the inquiry extended, and I have 168 returns from him in all, containing 12 good Number-Forms, shown in Figs. 9-19, and in Fig. 28. The first Fig. is that of Mr. Poole himself; he says, "The line only represents position; it does not exist in my mind. After 100, I return to my old starting-place, _e.g._ 140 occupies the same position as 40."

The gross statistical result from the schoolboys is as follows: --Total returns, 337: viz. Winchester 135, Princeton 34, Charterhouse 168; the number of these that contained well-defined Number-Forms are 5, 1, and 12 respectively, or total 18--that is, one in twenty. It may justly be said that the masters should not be counted, because it was owing to the accident of their seeing the Number-Forms themselves that they became interested in the inquiry; if this objection be allowed, the proportion would become 16 in 337, or one in twenty-one. Again, some boys who had no visualising faculty at all could make no sense out of the questions, and wholly refrained from answering; this would again diminish the proportion. The shyness in some would help in a statistical return to neutralise the tendency to exaggeration in others, but I do not think there is much room for correction on either head. Neither do I think it requisite to make much allowance for inaccurate answers, as the tone of the replies is simple and straightforward. Those from Princeton, where the students are older and had been specially warned, are remarkable for indications of self-restraint. The result of personal inquiries among adults, quite independent of and prior to these, gave me the proportion of 1 in 30 as a provisional result for adults. This is as well confirmed by the present returns of 1 in 21 among boys and youths as I could have expected.

I have not a sufficient number of returns from girls for useful comparison with the above, though I am much indebted to Miss Lewis for 33 reports, to Miss Cooper of Edgbaston for 10 reports from the female teachers at her school, and to a few other schoolmistresses, such as Miss Stones of Carmarthen, whose returns I have utilised in other ways. The tendency to see Number-Forms is certainly higher in girls than in boys.

Fig. 20 is the Form of Mr. George Bidder, Q.C.; it is of much interest to myself, because it was, as I have already mentioned, through the receipt of it and an accompanying explanation that my attention was first drawn to the subject. Mr. G. Bidder is son of the late well-known engineer, the famous "calculating boy" of the bygone generation, whose marvellous feats in mental arithmetic were a standing wonder. The faculty is hereditary. Mr. G. Bidder himself has multiplied mentally fifteen figures by another fifteen figures, but with less facility than his father. It has been again transmitted, though in an again reduced degree, to the third generation. He says: --

"One of the most curious peculiarities in my own case is the arrangement of the arithmetical numerals. I have sketched this to the best of my ability. Every number (at least within the first thousand, and afterwards thousands take the place of units) is always thought of by me in its own definite place in the series, where it has, if I may say so, a home and an individuality. I should, however, qualify this by saying that when I am multiplying together two large numbers, my mind is engrossed in the operation, and the idea of locality in the series for the moment sinks out of prominence."

Fig. 21 is that of Prof. Schuster, F.R.S., whose visualising powers are of a very high order, and who has given me valuable information, but want of space compels me to extract very briefly. He says to the effect:--

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Inquiries into human faculty and its developmentChapter VII: Introduction (4)

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