The Monist, Vol. 1, 1890-1891 : $b A quarterly magazineVarious
Philosophy
The Monist, Vol. 1, 1890-1891 : $b A quarterly magazine
Various
Philosophy -- Periodicals
But by the side of the physiological theory legitimately exist as
possibilities a psychological one and a psycho-physical one. It is the
doctrine of the latter theories that not only are physical vestiges
left behind in the cortex of the brain after every perception, but also
psychical dispositions to the formation of ideas and images; and that
it is possible for images of all kinds to continue to exist without
distinctly attaining to consciousness. These theories distinguish
between degrees of luminosity in our percepts and images, the three
most important degrees of which I have designated as consciousness,
subconsciousness, and unconsciousness. There exists a gradation of
degrees of consciousness, and the fully-conscious course of mental
representation is everywhere conditioned by its connection with the
obscured spheres beyond. Our attention surveys but a small area, on
the boundary lines of which the altitudes of consciousness decrease,
and finally approach the zero point. I say _approach_, for they never
reach it. Our experiments with the magic mirror in fact show us how
the oldest impressions, and impressions of ridiculous insignificance,
after long long years awake as it were from the slumber of the fabled
Sleeping Beauty. If our millions of perceptions were to live on
in _consciousness_ we should no longer have a past, but live in a
continuous celestial present; but were the operation of consciousness
so limited that it destroyed great numbers of images, the very facts
upon which the belief in supernatural powers rests, would lose their
only rational explanation. One result of our study of crystal-visions
is assuredly this, that we shall have to erase the word "forgotten"
with all its derivatives from the dictionary, and at the most employ
the phrase "not remembered." With more ardent yearning than ever before
will we long for a river of Lethe, and join with our whole hearts in
the cry of Themistocles, "O that some one might teach me the art of
forgetting!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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