find themselves, as it were, in a new creation, which passes before them with great indistinctness, and with which they feel but little sympathy. And why should it be thought unnatural, that they should neglect in some measure that scene of things, which has already learnt to forget and to neglect them? As their organs of external perception have failed them, and there has also been a defect of attention, the memory, as a natural consequence, has become powerless and broken.

It should, however, be remarked here, that, notwithstanding what has been said, aged people often recal, with great readiness and precision, the feelings and the incidents of their youth. As when a man, who has been greatly prospered, but who at last meets with sudden and disas trous reverses of fortune, finds, in this new state of things, his obsequious attendants fleeing away and turning against him, while only a few early friends remain unmoved in evil and good report; so early feelings and early associations appear to cling with a faithful fondness to the shattered intellects of the aged. The old soldier, who had a share in the American Revolution, will sit down by his fireside and describe with great particularity the scenes, where he toiled and bled, and yet be quite unable to give an account of the incidents of the preceding week.

The explanation of this trait in the mental aspects of the aged seems to be this.As a general statement, our early feelings aud our early associations are the strongest. That they should be so is not strange, since we have then entered on a state of things, which, in its essential features, is new, and which, in all its diversities of duty, and pleasure, and danger, attracts, and excites us by continual novelty. Who can forget the plains where he wandered in early life? Who can erase from his recollection the associates of those days of wonder, activity, and hope? Who can obliterate from his heart his toils, and his sufferings, and his joys, all which assumed a peculiar emphasis and importance, being connected with future prospects, the adversities and the successes of after life? These things remain, while others vanish. Such feelings, so

deeply fixed in the mind, and bound together and made permanent by the strength of a mutual association, are frequently recalled; they recur to the soul in the activity and bustle of life, and in those more favoured moments, when it is given up to silent and solemn meditations. The effect of this frequent recurrence can easily be imagined. The early impressions, which are the subjects of such recurrence become in time, if one may be allowed the expression, a part of the mind itself; they seem to be woven into its existence. Hence old men, who have no eye and no hearing for the events, that are passing around them, repeat, with the greatest animation, the stories of scenes, and actions, and friendships of fifty years ago.

§. 246. Memory of persons of a rich imagination.

It is a remark of Dr. Watts, that a fine genius is often found to have but a feeble memory. By a fine genius he probably understood what we commonly mean by a person of a rich imagination; that is, one, who is furnished with a rich store of images, has readiness in the perception of their congruity or incongruity with each other, and of course has great power in the formation of various new combinations.

Such a person finds a luxuriance of wealth in himself. He is continually and happily entertained with the new pictures, which his imagination creates. Hence he does not so much entertain himself with outward events; many facts, which are particularly noticed and retained by others, pass by him unregarded; and, therefore, quickly escape from his remembrance. Montaigne (§. 8.) seems to have been a person of this description; acquainted with the general principles of the sciences, possessing an exuberance of intellectual riches, but utterly incapable of remembering dates, times, places, and the numerous matters-of-fact of every day's occurrence.

Weakness of memory in persons of a rich imagination is discovered also in their reading of books. The reason of it seems to be a too great confidence in their own ability. Conscious of their own resources, they are tempted to

peruse books in a hasty and careless manner, and without due attention. The result of this careless manner, both in respect to events and the sentiments of authors, is that they are but imperfectly known at first, and are very speedily forgotten. This will not appear strange, in connection with the remark at §. 225, on the connection existing between memory and attention. The weakness of memory, therefore, in persons of rich imagination is not constitutional and permanent, but a matter of mere accident; and, for this reason, the more discreditable. When such persons have habitually taken an interest in the common affairs of life, they are found to remember their details, however unpoetical; and in their reading of authors nothing seems to be wanting, but interest and attention, in order to secure them from the reproach, under which they are thought to labour.

§. 247. On the compatibility of strong memory and good judgment.

By JUDGMENTS we in general understand nothing more than the opinions, which we form in view of evidence; in other words, they are the results or conclusions of moral reasoning. By a person of good judgment, we generally mean one, who examines subjects with caution, and whose results, founded on such examination, for the most part, prove correct. That persons may possess, in a very high degree, the susceptibility of memory, and still be incapable of correct moral reasoning, or of exhibiting any other indications of a well judging mind, is a fact well known. There have even been idiots, who certainly could present no claims to the character of judging well, that have, nev ertheless, been remarkable for memory. Such are, indeed, instances of an extreme kind; however, there are not wanting many other cases, where strong memories have been found united with feeble judgment. On this fact, it may be remarked, as follows.

The connection between a strong memory and a weak judgment, it may be said without any hesitation, is not necessary, but merely accidental; that is, is not the con stitution of nature, but in general the result of circumstan

ces. As it is an accidental state of things, and not any thing essential and permanent in our mental structure, we must look for its appropriate cause in erroneous mental discipline.It may well be supposed, that those, who possess strong memories, are not insensible of their excellence in this respect; and the approbation, which they have received in consequence of it, encourages them to treasure up a dry collection of all facts, which will, in any way, bear repetition. Dates, genealogies, local incidents, traditional anecdotes, are all seized, and retained with peculiar avidity. But too much intent upon the mere dates and names of things, such persons fail to inquire into their rue nature; they neglect other and more important forms of mental discipline; and thus justly sustain the reputaion of possessing a showy, rather than discriminating and ound knowledge. In instances of this description, the elations, by which the suggested trains of thought are asociated, are the more slight and obvious ones, such as of me, place, &c. But there are some exceptions to this nwise course; individuals may be found, who, with an stonishing ability to recal the most unimportant incients of daily occurrence, as well as the dry details of storical facts, combine the far more enviable ability of scriminating the true differences of things, of combining eans for the attainment of ends, and of rightly estimang evidence in its various applications; which are among e characteristics of men of sound judgment.

§. 248. Intentional memory or recollection.

The definition of MEMORY, which has been given, is, at it is the power or susceptibility of the mind, from ich arise those conceptions, which are modified by the ation of past time. This definition necessarily resolves emory in good part into association. It is, therefore, to here observed, that our trains of associated thought are t voluntary; that is, are not directly under the control the WILL. They come and depart, without it being sible for us to exercise any thing more, than an indit government over them. (See §. 212.) It follows

from these facts, that our remembrances also are not voluntary; or, in other words, it is impossible for us to remember in consequence of merely choosing to remember. To will or to choose to remember any thing implies, that the thing in question is already in the mind; and hence there is not only an impossibility resulting from the nature of the mind, but also an absurdity, in the idea of calling up thought by volition. Our chief power, there fore, in quickening and strengthening the memory, will be found to consist in our skill in applying and modifying the various principles or laws of association. And this brings us to a consideration of what is called INTENTIONAL MEMORY OF RECOLLECTION; a subject, which was partly illustrated in the section above referred to.

Whenever we put forth an exercise of intentional memory, or make a formal attempt to remember some circumstance, it is evident, that the event in general, of which the circumstance when recalled will be found to be a part, must have previously been an object of attention. That is, we remember the great outlines of some story, but cannot, in the first instance, give a complete account of it, which we wish to do. We make an effort to recal the cir cumstances not remembered in two ways.- -We may, in the first place, form different suppositions, and see, which agrees best with the general outlines; the general features or outlines of the subject being detained before us, with a considerable degree of permanency, by means of some feeling of desire or interest. This method of restoring thoughts is rather an inference of reasoning, than a gen uine exercise of memory.

We may, in the second place, merely delay upon thos thoughts, which we already hold possession of; and re volve them in our minds; until, aided by some principl of association, we are able to lay hold of the particul ideas, for which we were searching. Thus, when we e deavour to recite what we had previously committed memory, but are at a loss for a particular passage; repeat, a number of times, the concluding words of ti