# Ideatypics; or, an Art of Memory/Chapter 9

PROSE AND POETRY.
Dugald Stuart, speaking of the assistance rendered to public speakers by the topical Memory, in recollecting the different parts of his discourse, considers the accounts given of it by the ancient rhetoricians, as abundantly satisfactory, and makes the following pertinent observations on the subject: “Suppose (says this author) that I were to fix in my memory the different apartments in some very large building, and that I had accustomed myself to think of these apartments always in the same invariable order. Suppose, farther, that in preparing myself for a public discourse, in which I had occasion to treat of a great variety of particulars, I was anxious to fix in my memory the order I proposed to observe in the communication of my ideas. It is evident, that by a proper division of my subject into heads, and by connecting each head with a particular apartment, (which I could easily do, in conceiving myself to be sitting in the apartment while I was studying the part of my discourse I meant to connect with it,) the habitual order in which these apartments occurred to my ​thoughts, would present to me, in their proper arrangement, and without any effort on my part, the ideas of which I was to treat. It is also obvious, that a very little practice would enable me to avail myself of this contrivance, without any embarrassment or distraction of my attention.”
Mr. Stuart cites an example of a young woman, in a very low rank of life, who contrived a method of committing to memory the sermons which she was accustomed to hear, by fixing her attention, during the different heads of the discourse, on different compartments of the roof of the church.
We may adopt the same plan with advantage, or we may arrange a discourse on some imaginary form, by the aid of symbols that spring up in our mind at the time; as, for Justice, a pair of scales, etc. etc. In committing prose to memory, the particular chapter should be carefully considered once or twice; then, selecting the principal images, form a narrative by combining them, and proceed gradually with a few lines at a time.
In committing to memory the frequently minute descriptions of poetry, we are aided by images, comparisons, allusions, figures, and the personification of moral subjects, so that we may take the stanza generally as it is, whether of four, six, eight, or ten lines, etc. In some kinds of verse it is better to take two lines. We must then associate ​each stanza with its principal image, and assign its locality; then, put the first word of every line on its object by an imagined transfer, because in repeating poetry the first word of a line is most difficult to be recalled. By these means, we may recite the whole poem in regular order—repeat any stanza by recollecting the number of its locality—determine the numerical position of any word in the poem—say how often any particular word occurs—or recite the whole of the poem backward. As this, however, serves no useful purpose, I shall at once give an example of Ideatyping poetry, for general application, from John Malcolm’s Stanzas on “The close of the year.”
I propose to consider the matter in a way truly Ideatypic. Reading the stanza carefully, select an object for the whole of it—a type, if nothing ​else appears. In this instance, personify “Immensity,” and put him in any place yon prefer. The idea admits of a figure reaching to the “sky.” We may further suppose him to be writing on it the word “surely” in the characters of “language;” and then, that he has a “voice” that “speaks,” “swells,” and “tells.” These three words, in their natural order, connected with the personification, prompt to the ideas in connection with them, and shew us also how the lines commence. Pass to the next objects, “bark” and “foam,” and place them at the feet of our personification. The bark has on its stern the first word of the line “As.” Beyond the place we assign for our imaginative waves, let there be a “beacon.” Let “hails,” the first word of the line, be written upon it; then, standing by the beacon, let us, in our thoughts, look out again upon “the troubled sea;” and then imagine “we roam” there, our barks having on the stern “So,” the first word of the line. We have now stepped from the beacon to the ship, and are on the look out for “the stars, like beacon lights beyond.” “Grave,” and all the rest of the words, will be supplied from two or three times reading the lines in connection. “Shine,” the first word of the last line, is emphatic, and follows readily from thinking of the stars. We now turn our thoughts again to ourselves, as though we ​really were on a little “deep” where we had agreed to place it. In such a position, we can at once call up the ideas “Our barks we hope to save.”—This process the mind may pursue without being able to describe it. It is evident, the passing from the text to miniature objects and types, must give prominence, as well as order, to the several points. Some such process, without name or directions, has been unwittingly followed by the majority of those whose memory has been most active. I have shewn that the reader can pass from abstractions to things tangible without marring the beauty of the lines; and a reflecting mind will perceive that most of his permanent associations are formed in the same way. Apparently incongruous and ridiculous ideas often rise spontaneously in our minds, and continue there. This is more the influence of habit than anything else, and ought to be corrected. Hence it is proper to exclude the wit and comicality that some introduce in order to assist the memory. It seems to me a species of trifling, detrimental to education as a discipline of mind, and subversive of the requisite sobriety of thought.