for a long time after it has obtained command of its single
experiences it remains unaware of its selfhood. In a classic passage
of "In Memoriam" Tennyson has stated the case with that blending of
witchery and scientific precision of which he alone among the poets
seems capable:--

"The baby, new to earth and sky,
What time his tender palm is prest
Against the circle of the breast,
Has never thought that 'this is I.'

"But as he grows he gathers much,
And learns the use of 'I' and 'me,'
And finds 'I am not what I see,
And other than the things I touch.'

"So rounds he to a separate mind,
From whence clear memory may begin,
As thro' the frame that binds him in
His isolation grows defined."

Until he has separated his mind from the objects around, and even from
his own conscious states, he cannot perceive himself and obtain clear
memory. No child recalls his first year, for the simple reason that
during that year he was not there. Of course there was experience
during that year, there was consciousness; but the child could not
discriminate himself from the crowding experiences and so reach self-
consciousness. At what precise time this momentous possibility occurs
cannot be told. Probably the time varies widely in different children.
In any single child it announces itself by degrees, and usually so