270 MEMORY. 



It is a problem worth studying, this action of the 

 mind after all these years.' 



The following, "A Baby's Memory," is related by 

 Jean Ingelow in Longman's : "A curious instance of 

 dormant memory in infancy took place in our family. 

 My mother went on a visit to my grandfather, who lived 

 in London. She took with her a little brother of mine, 

 who was eleven months old, and his nurse, who waited 

 on her as her maid. One day this nurse brought the 

 baby boy into my mother's room and put him on the 

 floor, which was carpeted all over. There he crept 

 about and amused himself according to his lights. 

 When my mother was dressed a certain ring that she 

 generally wore was not to be found. Great search was 

 made, but it was not produced, and the visit over, 

 they all went away, and it was almost forgotten. 



Exactly a year after they again went to visit the 

 grandfather. This baby was now a year and eleven 

 months old. The same nurse took him into the same 

 room, and my mother saw him, after looking about him, 

 deliberately walk up to a certain corner, turn a bit of 

 the carpet back, and produce the ring. He never gave 

 any account of the matter, nor did he, so far as I know, 

 remember it afterward. 



It seems most likely that he found the ring on the 

 floor and hid it, as in a safe place, under a corner of the 

 Brussels carpet, where it was not nailed. He probably 

 forgot all about it until he saw the place again, and he 

 was far too infantile at the time it was missed to under- 

 stand what the talk that went on was about, or to know 

 what the search, which perhaps he did not notice, was 

 for." 



The following experience shows momentary torpidity 

 of the power to reproduce : 



On one occasion I stood talking with a friend, Mr. 

 Smith. Near by stood two gentlemen conversing, one 



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