is perpetually distracting our intellectual powers, from those more important exertions, for which, in their mature ftate, they feem to be destined.

This tendency of literary habits in general, and more particularly of philofophical pursuits, to exercise the thoughts about words, can fcarcely fail to have fome effect in weakening the powers of recollection and conception with respect to fenfible objects; and, in fact, I believe it will be found, that whatever advantage the philofopher may poffefs over men of little education, in ftating general propofitions and general reafonings, he is commonly inferior to them in point of minuteness and accuracy, when he attempts to describe any object which he has feen, or any event which he has witneffed; fuppofing the curiofity of both, in fuch cafes, to be interested in an equal degree. I acknowledge, indeed, that the undivided attention, which men unaccufftomed to reflexion are able to give to the objects of their perceptions, is, in part, the cause of the liveliness and correctnefs of their conceptions.

With this diverfity in the intellectual habits of cultivated and of uncultivated minds, there is another variety of memory which feems to have fome connection. In recognizing visible objects, the memory of one man proceeds on the general appearance, that of another attaches itself to fome minute and diftinguishing marks. A peasant knows the various kinds of trees from their general habits; a botanist, from thofe characteriitcal circumstances on which his claflification proceeds. The last kind of memory is, I think, moft common among literary men, and arifes from their habit of recollecting by means of words. It is evidently much

easier to express by a defcription, a number of botanical marks, than the general habit of a tree; and the fame remark is applicable to other cafes of a fimilar nature. But to whatever caufe we afcribe it, there can be no doubt of the fact, that many individuals are to be found, and chiefly among men of letters, who, although they have no memory for the general appearances of objects, are yet able to retain, with correctnefs, an immenfe number of technical difcriminations.

Each of these kinds of memory, has its peculiar advantages and inconveniencies, which the dread of being tedious induces me to leave to the investigation of my readers.

SECTION III.

Of the Improvement of Memory.-Analyfis of the Principles on which the Culture of Memory depends.

THE HE improvement of which the mind is fufceptible by culture, is more remarkable, perhaps, in the cafe of Memory, than in that of any other of our faculties. The fact has been often taken notice of in general terms; but I am doubtful if the particular mode in which culture operates on this part of our conftitution, has been yet examined by philofophers with the attention which it deferves.

Of one fort of culture, indeed, of which Memory is fufceptible in a very striking degree, no explanation can be given; I mean the improvement which the original faculty acquires by mere exercife; or in other words, the tendency which practice has to increase our

natural

natural facility of affociation. This effect of practice upon the memory, feems to be an ultimate law of our nature, or rather, to be a particular inftance of that general law, that all our powers, both of body and mind, may be strengthened, by applying them to their proper purposes.

Befides, however, the improvement which Memory admits of, in confequence of the effects of exercise on the original faculty, it may be greatly aided in its operations, by thofe expedients which reafon and experience fuggeft for employing it to the beft advantage. These expedients furnish a curious fubject of philofophical examination: perhaps, too, the inquiry may not be altogether without ufe; for, although our principal refources for affifting the memory be suggested by nature, yet it is reasonable to think, that in this, as in fimilar cafes, by following out systematically the hints which fhe fuggefts to us, a farther preparation may be made for our intellectual improvement.

Every person must have remarked, in entering upon any new species of study, the difficulty of treasuring up in the memory its elementary principles; and the growing facility which he acquires in this refpect, as his knowledge becomes more extenfive. By analifing the different causes, which concur in producing this facility, we may, perhaps, be led to fome conclufions which may admit of a practical application.

1. In every science, the ideas about which it is peculiarly converfant, are connected together by fome particular affociating principle; in one fcience, for example, by affociations founded on the relation of cause and effect; in another, by affociations founded

on

on the neceffary relations of mathematical truths; in a third, on affociations founded on contiguity in place or time. Hence one caufe of the gradual improvement of memory with refpect to the familiar objects of our knowledge; for whatever be the prevailing affociating principle among the ideas about which we are habitually occupied, it must neceifarily acquire additional strength from our favourite ftudy.

2. In proportion as a fcience becomes more familiar to us, we acquire a greater command of attention with refpect to the objects about which it is converfànt; for the information which we already poffefs, gives us an intereft in every new truth, and every new fact which have any relation to it. In moft cafes, our habits of inattention may be traced to a want of curiofity; and therefore fuch habits are to be corrected, not by endeavouring to force the attention in particular inftances, but by gradually learning to place the ideas which we wish to remember, in an interefting point of view.

3. When we firft enter on any new literary purfuit, we are unable to make a proper difcrimination in point of utility and importance, among the ideas which are prefented to us; and by attempting to grasp at every thing, we fail in making thofe moderate acquifitions which are fuited to the limited powers of the human mind. As our information extends, our felection becomes more judicious and more confined; and our knowledge of useful and connected truths advances rapidly, from our ceafing to diftract the attention with fuch as are detached and infignificant.

4. Every object of our knowledge is related to a variety of others; and may be prefented to the thoughts,

fome

fometimes by one principle of affociation, and fometimes by another. In proportion, therefore, to the multiplication of mutual relations among our ideas, (which is the natural refult of growing information, and in particular, of habits of philofophical study,) the greater will be the number of occafions on which they will recur to the recollection, and the firmer will be the root which each idea, in particular, will take in the memory.

It follows, too, from this obfervation, that the faci lity of retaining a new fact, or a new idea, will depend on the number of relations which it bears to the former objects of our knowledge; and, on the other hand, that every fuch acquifition, fo far from loading the memory, gives us a firmer hold of all that part of our previous information, with which it is in any degree connected.

It may not, perhaps, be improper to take this opportunity of obferving, although the remark be not immediately connected with our present fubject, that the acceffion made to the stock of our knowledge, by the new facts and ideas which we acquire, is not to be estimated merely by the number of thefe facts and ideas confidered individually; but by the number of relations which they bear to one another, and to all the different particulars which were previously in the mind; for, "new knowledge," (as Mr. Maclaurin has well re* marked *,) does not confift fo much in our having "accefs to a new object, as in comparing it with others already known, obferving its relations to them, or

See the Conclufion of his View of NEWTON's Discoveries,