FROM

DISSERTATIONS,

MORAL AND CRITICAL

On Memory.

THIS is a faculty, which, if it were less common and we equally qualified to judge of it, would strike us with astonishment. That we should have it in our power to recal past sensations and thoughts, and make them again present, as it were: that a circumstance of our former life should, in respect of us, be no more; and yet occur to us, from time to time, dressed out in colours so lively, as to enable us to examine it, and judge of it, as if it were still an object of sense: - these are facts, whereof we every day have experience, and which, therefore, we overlook as things of course. But, surely, nothing is more wonderful, or more inexplicable. If thoughts

could occupy space we might be tempted to think that we had laid them up in certain cells or repositories, to remain there till we had occasion for them. But thoughts cannot occupy space; nor be conceived to have any other existence than what the mind gives them by meditating upon them. Yet, that which has been long forgotten, nay, that which we have often endeavoured in vain to recollect, will sometimes, without any effort of ours, occur to us, on a sudden, and, if I may so speak, of its own accord. A tune, for example, which I hear to-day, and am pleased with, I perhaps endeavour to remember to-morrow, and next day, and the day following, without success : and yet, that very tune shall occur to me a month after, when my mind is taken up with something else. Where, if I may ask the question, were my ideas of this tune, when I wished to recollect them, and could not? How comes it, that they now present themselves, when I am not thinking of them at all? These questions no man can answer: but the fact is certain.

Often, when we do not immediately call to mind what we wish to remember, we set ourselves, as it were, to search for it; we medi

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tate on other things or persons, that seem to be like it, or contrary to it, or contiguous, or to bear any other relation to what we are in quest of; and thus, perhaps, we at last remember it. This continued effort of voluntary remembrance is called recollection. resembles the procedure of those, who, missing something valuable, look for it in every place where they think they might have been when they dropped it; and thus recover what they had lost. For the last mentioned fact it is easyto account. A jewel, or a piece of coin,' is a visible, tangible, and permanent thing, and must remain in its place till it be removed: and, if we come to that place, and examine it with attention, we can hardly fail to find what we are in quest of. But, where a thought should be, when it is forgotten; how it should have any permanency or any existence, when it is no longer in the mind; and what should restore it to our memory, after a long interval of forgetfulness; are points, whereon human wisdom can determine nothing.

Is it not wonderful, that old men should remember more accurately what happened fifty years ago, than the affairs of last week? And yet that, in many cases, our remembrance of

any

fact should be accurate in proportion to its recency? It may be said, indeed, that the more we attend, the better we remember; and that old men are forgetful of those things only, to which they are inattentive; for that not one of them ever forgot the place where he had deposited his money. All this is true, as Cicero remarks in his book on Old Age; but how we come to remember that best, to which we are most attentive, we can no otherwise explain, than by saying, that such is the law of our nature.

The Importance of habitual Attention. THE rule here hinted at should never, on any occasion, be forgotten. It is a matter of no small importance, that we acquire the habit of doing only one thing at one time: by which I mean, that while employed on any one object our thoughts ought not to wander to another. When we go from home in quest of amusement, or to the fields for the sake of exercise, we shall do well to leave all our specu"lations behind if we carry them with us, the exercise will fatigue the body without refreshing it; and the amusement, instead of enli

vening, will distract the soul: and, both in the one case and in the other, we shall confirm ourselves in those habits of inattention, which, when long persisted in, form what is called an absent man. In conversation too, let us always mind what is saying and doing around us, and never give the company ground. to suspect, that our thoughts are elsewhere. Attention is a chief part of politeness. An absent man, provided he is goodnatured, may be borne with, but never can be agreeable. He may command our esteem, if we know him to be wise and virtuous; but he cannot engage our love. For inattention implies negligence, and neglect often proceeds from contempt: if, therefore, we find that we are not attended to, we shall fancy that we are neglected, and to a certain degree despised: and how is it possible to repay contempt with kindness! And when unkindness and dissatisfaction prevail in any society, all the comforts of it are at an end.Besides, if we are not strictly observant of every thing that passes in company, we cannot be either amused by it or instructed; in other words, we deprive ourselves of much innocent* pleasure and useful information. For a great deal of our best knowledge is obtained by mu