In so far as this decay of memory which old age brings along with it, is a necessary consequence of a physical change in the constitution, or a necessary consequence of a diminution of sensibility, it is the part of a wise man to submit cheerfully to the lot of his nature. But it is not unreasonable to think, that something may be done by our own efforts, to obviate the inconveniences which commonly result from it. If individuals, who, in the early part of life have weak memories, are sometimes able to remedy this defect, by a greater attention to arrangement in their transactions, and to classification among their ideas, than is necessary to the bulk of mankind, might it not be possible, in the same way, to ward off, at least to a cer

our celebrated lawyers, pontiffs, augurs, and philosophers; for the faculties of the mind will preserve their powers in old age, unless they are suffered to lose their energy, and become languid for want of due cultivation."

"The mind and body equally thrive by a suitable exertion of their powers, with this difference, however, that bodily exercise ends in fatigue, whereas the mind is never wearied in its activity. When Cæcilius therefore represents certain veterans as fit subjects for the Comic Muse, he alludes only to those weak and credulous dotards, whose infirmities of mind are not so much the natural effects of their years, as the consequence of suffering their faculties to lie dormant and unexerted in a slothful and spiritless inactivity."-Melmoth's Translation of Cicero on Old Age.

Among the practices to which Cato had recourse for exercising his memory, he mentions his observance of the Pythagorean rule, in recalling every night, all that he had said, or done, or heard the preceding day :-And, perhaps, few rules could be prescribed of greater efficacy for fixing in the mind the various ideas which pass under its review, or for giving it a ready and practical com

mand of them. Indeed, this habit of frequently reviewing the information we possess, either in our solitary meditations, or (which is still better) in our conversations with others, is the most effectual of all the helps to memory that can possibly be suggested. But these remarks properly belong to another branch of our subject.

I mentioned likewise the effects of intoxication as a proof of the dependence of memory on the state of the body. These effects too are curiously diversified in different constitutions. Some men, notwithstanding their ebriety, are able to converse with distinctness and coherence, so that their derangement of mind is not at the time observable by their companions; and yet, after a short sleep, they find all the occurrences which happened to them during intoxication completely obliterated from the memory. Others, whose intoxication is much more apparent at the moment, retain an accurate recollection of all that they see and do while in this condition. Facts of this sort are not unworthy the attention of those who study the varieties of the Intellectual Character in different individuals, not to mention the interesting field of observation which they open to the medical inquirer.]

tain degree, the encroachments which time makes on this faculty? The few old men who continue in the active scenes of life to the last moment, it has been often remarked, complain, in general, much less of a want of recollection than their cotemporaries. This is undoubtedly owing partly to the effect which the pursuits of business must necessarily have, in keeping alive the power of attention. But it is probably owing also to new habits of arrangement, which the mind gradually and insensibly forms, from the experience of its growing infirmities. The apparent revival of memory in old men, after a temporary decline, (which is a case that happens not unfrequently,) seems to favour this supposition.

One old man, I have myself had the good fortune to know, who, after a long, an active, and an honourable life, having begun to feel some of the usual effects of advanced years, has been able to find resources in his own sagacity, against most of the inconveniences with which they are commonly attended, and who, by watching his gradual decline with the cool eye of an indifferent observer, and employing his ingenuity to retard its progress, has converted even the infirmities of age into a source of philosophical amusement.

SECT. II.-OF THE VARIETIES OF MEMORY IN DIFFERENT

INDIVIDUALS.

It is generally supposed, that of all our faculties, Memory is that which nature has bestowed in the most unequal degrees on different individuals; and it is far from being impossible that this opinion may be well founded. If, however, we consider that there is scarcely any man who has not memory sufficient to learn the use of language, and to learn to recognise, at the first glance, the appearances of an infinite number of familiar objects; besides acquiring such an acquaintance with the laws of nature, and the ordinary course of human affairs, as is necessary for directing his conduct in life, we shall be satisfied that the original disparities among men, in this respect, are by no means so immense as they seem to be at first view;

and that much is to be ascribed to different habits of attention, and to a difference of selection among the various objects and events presented to their curiosity.

[It is worthy of remark, also, that those individuals who possess unusual powers of memory with respect to any one class of objects, are commonly as remarkably deficient in some of the other applications of that faculty. I knew a person who, though completely ignorant of Latin, was able to repeat over thirty or forty lines of Virgil, after having heard them once read to him,—not indeed with perfect exactness, but with such a degree of resemblance, as (all circumstances considered) was truly astonishing; yet this person (who was in the condition of a servant) was singularly deficient in memory in all cases in which that faculty is of real practical utility. He was noted in every family in which he had been employed for habits of forgetfulness, and could scarcely deliver an ordinary message without committing some blunder.

A similar observation, I can almost venture to say, will be found to apply to by far the greater number of those in whom this faculty seems to exhibit a preternatural or anomalous degree of force. The varieties of memory are indeed wonderful, but they ought not to be confounded with inequalities of memory. One man is distinguished by a power of recollecting names, and dates, and genealogies; a second, by the multiplicity of speculations, and of general conclusions treasured up in his intellect; a third, by the facility with which words and combinations of words (the ipsissima verba of a speaker or of an author) seem to lay hold of his mind; a fourth, by the quickness with which he seizes and appropriates the sense and meaning of an author, while the phraseology and style seem altogether to escape his notice; a fifth, by his memory for poetry; a sixth, by his memory for music; a seventh, by his memory for architecture, statuary, and painting, and all the other objects of taste which are addressed to the eye. All these different powers seem miraculous to those who do not possess them; and as they are apt to be supposed by superficial observers to be commonly united in the same individuals, they

contribute much to encourage those exaggerated estimates concerning the original inequalities among men in respect to this faculty, which I am now endeavouring to reduce to their just standard.1]

As the great purpose to which this faculty is subservient, is to enable us to collect and to retain, for the future regulation of our conduct, the results of our past experience, it is evident that the degree of perfection which it attains in the case of different persons must vary; first, with the facility of making the original acquisition; secondly, with the permanence of the acquisition; and thirdly, with the quickness or readiness with which the individual is able, on particular occasions, to apply it to use. The qualities, therefore, of a good memory are, in the first place, to be susceptible; secondly, to be retentive; and thirdly, to be ready.

It is but rarely that these three qualities are united in the same person. We often, indeed, meet with a memory which is at once susceptible and ready; but I doubt much if such memories be commonly very retentive; [for the same set of habits which are favourable to the two first qualities are adverse to the third. Those individuals, for example, who, with a view to conversation, make a constant business of informing themselves with respect to the popular topics of the day, or of turning over the ephemeral publications subservient to the amusement or to the politics of the times, are naturally led to

1 [I recollect to have heard Mr. Gibbon observe, that all the royal families in Europe were remarkable for a faculty of recognising faces, and of recalling proper names. The same thing is taken notice of by the Marquis de Bouillé, in his account of the late King of Sweden, Gustavus the Third. "His memory was singularly retentive; a thing," the same writer adds, very common in princes, and which seems almost like a sixth sense bestowed upon them by nature." A similar remark is made by the Prince de Ligne in a letter from Kiof to the Marchioness de Coigny.

"The Empress" (Catherine Second of Russia) "received me as if I had left her six days, instead of six years ago. She recalled to my mind a thousand things which monarchs alone can remember, for their memory is always excellent."-(Letters of the Prince de Ligne, edited by Madame de Stael.) No fact can demonstrate more incontestably to what a degree the apparent inequalities among individuals in the original capacities of their minds depend on the occupations and habits of their tender years.]

cultivate a susceptibility and readiness of memory, but have no inducement to aim at that permanent retention of selected ideas, which enables the scientific student to combine the most remote materials, and to concentrate at will, on a particular object, all the scattered lights of his experience, and of his reflections. Such men (as far as my observation has reached) seldom possess a familiar or correct acquaintance even with those classical remains of our own earlier writers, which have ceased to furnish topics of discourse to the circles of fashion. A stream of novelties is perpetually passing through their minds, and the faint impressions which it leaves soon vanish to make way for others,-like the traces which the ebbing tide leaves upon the sand. Nor is this all. In proportion as the associating principles which lay the foundation of susceptibility and readiness predominate in the memory, those which form the basis of our more solid and lasting acquisitions may be expected to be weakened, as a natural consequence of the general laws of our intellectual frame. This last observation it will be necessary to illustrate more particularly.]

I have already remarked, in treating of a different subject, that the bulk of mankind, being but little accustomed to reflect and to generalize, associate their ideas chiefly according to their more obvious relations; those, for example, of resemblance and of analogy; and above all, according to the casual relations arising from contiguity in time and place; whereas, in the mind of a philosopher, ideas are commonly associated according to those relations which are brought to light in consequence of particular efforts of attention; such as the relations of Cause and Effect, or of Premises and Conclusion. This difference in the modes of association of these two classes of men, is the foundation of some very striking diversities between them in respect of intellectual character.

In the first place, in consequence of the nature of the relations which connect ideas together in the mind of the philosopher, it must necessarily happen, that when he has occasion to apply to use his acquired knowledge, time and reflection will be requisite to enable him to recollect it. In the case of those, on