On the Cognitive—§1. On Memory

The first phenomenon that springs forth from the sensory power of the soul is memory; and memory is the retention of the mark of an impression in the soul for the acquisition of knowledge.

Memory, as sensory knowledge, can be common also to animals through the impressions produced; but the distinguishing difference between them is very great; the aroused impression first lacks rational curiosity, and second does not pertain to a rational soul, but remains isolated; therefore the memory of animals can only be considered a simple and fleeting disposition bearing no analogy to the memory of man; proof that they neither have knowledge nor ideas, but only dispositions, and these often acquired through force or necessity; because if impressions do not yield knowledge in consciousness, then as simple information they fall into oblivion. This occurs in animals, because impressions do not become perceptions; but memory is perception, not impression.

The Darwinists ascribe to animals a living memory, because a dog after a long absence recognizes its master, a camel its enemy, and all animals their lairs and the forms of their habitations, and songbirds repeat the musical pieces taught them by mechanical means, and a dog remembers like a parrot to utter words; but can we truly regard this as an act of memory? Is it a true recollection? Or is it a deep impression engraved with effort by habit in the sensory soul of the animal? Memory presupposes perception and cognition; and recollection without these is impossible, because the impression as transient, being displaced by more vital and successive circumstances, falls into oblivion. Animals cannot possess a memory similar to that of man, because they do not have a rational soul to arouse their curiosity by love of learning toward enrichment of knowledge; an animal will never remember that it saw or that it dwelt in many places, unless it returns to that same place; this recollection is not true recollection, but a representation of the same impression upon the sensory soul. A dog recognizes its master after long absence, but who knows if it remembered him throughout that span of time? That it forgot him is certain, because the impression gradually sank into oblivion through the succession of circumstances; but the presence of its master reproduces the first image, and from the identity of the aroused impression recognizes its master; as also a camel recognizes the one who struck it.

Certainly it was not continuous memory that accomplished this, but the presence of the person provoked the same irritation by reflex action, as a rod that strikes a weasel is a perpetual source of fear; a weasel blinded in the eye by a rooster becomes fierce at its presence and flees; such recollections are sensory and local; otherwise, animals would need some kind of mnemonic faculty proportional to their needs, because its complete lack would have brought about their destruction; how could birds in the midst of a very dense forest recognize the tree where their nest is? And especially migratory birds that change zones and climates? How could the sea turtle forty days after leaving the sea recognize its nest among countless others, so as to lead the hatchlings from the egg to their natural habitat? And bees recognize their hive among many constantly moved by beekeepers, and ants their own? How did the turtle count the days? How did it remember time? How did it recognize its nest? How does the newborn lamb and many other animals recognize their mothers among thousands? What is the distinguishing mark of their mothers? Ants and bees and most gregarious animals know their companions; how do they accomplish this? This phenomenon teaches us nothing other than that divine providence has endowed animals with innate or instinctive memory for their preservation, the continuance of their species, and proportional to each social group according to their natural needs. The difference that exists between the memory of man and that of animals differs both in quantity and quality and admits of no comparison; what analogy can exist between the works

In all languages.

What relation exists between the memory of Hadrian and Themistocles, who knew by name all their fellow citizens, and many younger men who possessed languages like Mezzofante? What relation between the memory of Sachelier who memorized Homer in 20 days and the other poets in 1½ days and the memory of the dog that through lengthy training learned certain words? What proportion of memory between the sea turtle that knows the days of the incubation of her eggs and Manziarly who through memory alone performs mathematical calculations?

Therefore, true memory in its proper sense is the exclusive possession of man, and only he remembers and grows strong, and only he is advanced through it, so that he increases and is perfected. Those who ascribe to animals a memory similar to man’s admit inaccuracy and ignorance of the truth; let us examine whether animals have attention to something; because memory requires attention, from which it is strengthened or repelled.