should have said, as soon as they come into the world: and where nature is allowed free scope, it continues active and vigorous through life. It was plainly the intention of nature, that in infancy and youth it should occupy the mind almost exclusively, and that we should acquire all our necessary information before engaging in speculations which are less essential, and accordingly this is the history of the intellectual progress, in by far the greater number of individuals. In consequence of this, the difficulty of metaphysical researches is undoubtedly much increased; for the mind being constantly occupied in the earlier part of life about the properties and laws of matter, acquires habits of inattention to the subjects of consciousness, which are not to be surmounted, without a degree of patience and perseverance of which few men are capable but the inconvenience would evidently have been greatly increased, if the order of nature had, in this respect, been reversed, and if the curiosity had been excited at as early a period, by the phenomena of the intellectual world, as by those of the material. Of what would have happened on this supposition, we may form a judgment from those men who, in consequence of an excessive indulgence in metaphysical pursuits, have weakened, to an unnatural degree, their capacity of attending to external objects and occurrences. Few metaphysicians, perhaps, are to be found, who are not deficient in the power of observation: for, although a taste for such abstract speculations is far from being common, it is more apt, perhaps, than any other, when it has once been formed, to take an exclusive hold of the mind, and to shut up the other sources of intellectual improvement. As the metaphysician carries within himself the materials of his reasoning, he is not under the necessity of looking abroad for subjects of speculation or amusement; and unless he be very careful to guard against the effects of his favourite pursuits, he is in more danger than literary men of any other denomination, to lose all interest about the common and proper objects of human curiosity.

To prevent any danger from this quarter, I apprehend that the study of the mind should form the last branch of the education of youth; an order which nature herself seems to point out, by what I have already remarked, with respect to the developement of our faculties. Afterthe understanding is well stored with particular facts, and has been conversant with particular scientific pursuits, it will be enabled to speculate concerning its own powers with additional advantage, and will run no hazard of indulging too far in such inquiries. Nothing can be more absurd, on this as well as on many other accounts, than the common practice, which is followed in our universities, of beginning a course of philosophical education with the study of logic. If this order were completely reversed, and if the study of logic were delayed till after the mind of the student was well stored with particular facts in physics, in chemistry, in natural and civil history, his attention might be led with the most important advantage, and without any danger to his power of observation, to an examination of his own faculties; which, besides opening to him a new and pleasing field of speculation, would enable him to form an estimate of his own powers, of the acquisitions he has made, of the habits he has formed, and of the farther improvements of which his mind is susceptible.

In general, wherever habits of inattention, and an incapacity of observation, are very remarkable, they will be found to have arisen from

some defect in early education. I have already remarked, that, when nature is allowed free scope, curiosity, during early youth, is alive to every external object, and to every external occurrence, while the pow ers of imagination and reflection do not display themselves till a much later period; the former till about the age of puberty, and the latter till we approach to manhood. It sometimes, however, happens that, in consequence of a peculiar disposition of mind, or of an infirm bodily constitution, a child is led to seek amusement from books, and to lose a relish for those recreations which are suited to his age. In such instances, the ordinary progress of the intellectual powers is prematurely quickened; but that best of all educations is lost, which nature has prepared both for the philosopher and the man of the world, amidst the active sports and the hazardous adventures of childhood. It is from these alone that we can acquire, not only that force of character which is suited to the more arduous situations of life, but that complete and prompt command of attention to things external, without which the highest endowments of the understanding, however they may fit a man for the solitary speculations of the closet, are but of little use in the practice of affairs, or for enabling him to profit by his personal experience. Where, however, such habits of inattention have unfortunately been contracted, we ought not to despair of them as perfectly incurable." The attention, indeed, as I formerly remarked, can seldom be forced in particular instances; but we may gradually learn to place the objects. we wish to attend to, in lights more interesting than those in which we have been accustomed to view them. Much may be expected from a change of scene, and a change of pursuits; but above all, much may be expected from foreign travel. The objects which we meet will excite our surprise by their novelty; and in this manner we not only gradually acquire the power of observing and examining them with attention, but, from the effects of contrast, the curiosity comes to be roused with respect to the corresponding objects in our own country, which, from our early familiarity with them, we had formerly been accustomed to overlook. In this respect the effects of foreign travel, in directing the attention to familiar objects and occurrences, is somewhat analogous to that which the study of a dead or a foreign language produces, in leading the curiosity to examine the grammatical structure of our own.

Considerable advantage may also be derived, in overcoming the habits of inattention, which we may have contracted to particular subjects, from studying the systems, true or false, which philosophers have proposed for explaining or for arranging the facts connected with them. By means of these systems, not only is the curiosity circumscribed and directed, instead of being allowed to wander at random, but, in consequence of our being enabled to connect facts with general principles, it becomes interested in the examination of those particulars which would otherwise have escaped our notice.

SECTION VIII.

Of Connexion between Memory and Philosophical Genius.

Ir is commonly supposed, that genius is seldom united with a very enacious memory. So far, however, as my own observation has reach

ed, I can scarcely recollect one person who possesses the former of these qualities, without a more than ordinary share of the latter.

On a superficial view of the subject, indeed, the common opinion has some appearance of truth; for, we are naturally led, in consequence of the topics about which conversation is usually employed, to estimate the extent of memory, by the impression which trivial occurrences make upon it, and these in general escape the recollection of a man of ability, not because he is unable to retain them, but because he does not attend to them. It is probable, likewise, that accidental associations, founded on contiguity in time and place, may make but a slight impression on his mind. But it does not therefore follow, that his stock of facts is small. They are connected together in his memory by principles of association, different from those which prevail in ordinary minds; and they are on that very account the more useful for as the associations are founded upon real connexions among the ideas, (although they may be less conducive to the fluency, and perhaps to the wit of conversation,) they are of incomparably greater use in suggesting facts which are to serve as a foundation for reasoning or for invention.

It frequently happens, too, that a man of genius, in consequence of a peculiar strong attachment to a particular subject, may first feel a want of inclination, and may afterwards acquire a want of capacity of attending to common occurrences. But it is probable that the whole stock of ideas in his mind, is not inferior to that of other men; and that however unprofitably he may have directed his curiosity, the ignorance which he discovers on ordinary subjects does not arise from a want of memory, but from a peculiarity in the selection which he has made of the objects of his study.

Montaigne frequently complains in his writings of his want of memory; and he indeed gives many very extraordinary instances of his ignorance on some of the most ordinary topics of information. But it is obvious to any person who reads his works with attention, that this ignorance did not proceed from an original defect of memory, but from the singular and whimsical direction which his curiosity had taken at an early period of life. "I can do nothing," says he, "without my "memorandum book; and so great is my difficulty in remembering

proper names, that I am forced to call my domestic servants by their "offices. I am ignorant of the greater part of our coins in use; of the "difference of one grain from another, both in the earth and in the << granary; what use leaven is of making bread, and why wine must "stand sometime in the vat before it ferments." Yet the same author appears evidently, from his writings, to have had his memory stored with an infinite variety of apothegms, and of historical passages, which had struck his imagination; and to have been familiarly acquainted, not only with the names, but with the absurd and exploded opinions of the ancient philosophers; with the ideas of Plato, the atoms of Epicurus, the plenum and vacuum of Leucippus and Democritus, the water of Thales, the numbers of Pythagoras, the infinite of Parmenides, and the unity of Musæus. In complaining too of his want of presence of mind, he indirectly acknowledges a degree of memory which, if it had

Il n'est homme à qu il siese si mal de se mesler de parler de memoire. Car je n'en recognoy quasi trace en moy; et ne pense qu'il y en ait au monde une autrc si marveilleuse en defaillanco. Essais de MONTAIGNE, liv. i, ch. 9.

been judiciously employed, would have been more than sufficient for the acquisition of all those common branches of knowledge in which he appears to have been deficient. "When I have an oration to speak," says he, "of any considerable length, I am reduced to the miserable "necessity of getting it, word for word, by heart."

The strange and apparently inconsistent combination of knowledge and ignorance which the writings of Montaigne exhibit, led Malebranche (who seems to have formed too low an opinion both of his genius and character) to tax him with affectation; and even to call in question the credibility of some of his assertions. But no one who is well acquainted with this most amusing author, can reasonably suspect his veracity; and, in the present instance, I can give him complete credit, not only from my general opinion of his sincerity, but from having observed, in the course of my own experience, more than one example of the same sort of combination; not indeed carried to such a length as Montaigue describes, but bearing a striking resemblance to it.

The observations which have already been made, account, in part, for the origin of the common opinion, that genius and memory are seldom united in great degrees in the same person; and at the same time shew, that some of the facts on which that opinion is founded, do not justify such a conclusion. Besides these, however, there are other circumstances, which at first view, seem rather to indicate an inconsistency between extensive memory and original genius.

The species of memory which excites the greatest degree of admiration in the ordinary intercourse of society, is a memory for detached and insulated facts; and it is certain that those men who are possessed of it, are very seldom distinguished by the higher gifts of the mind. Such a species of memory is unfavourable to philosophical arrangement, because it in part supplies the place of arrangement. One great use of philosophy, as I have already shewed, is to give us an extensive command of particular truths, by furnishing us with general principles, under which a number of such truths is comprehended. A person in whose mind casual associations of time and place make a lasting impression, has not the same inducements to philosophize, with others, who connect facts together chiefly by the relations of cause and effect, or of premises and conclusion. I have heard it observed, that those men who have risen to the greatest eminence in the profession of law, have been in general such as had, at first, an aversion to the study. The reason probably is, that to a mind fond of general principles, every stu dy must be at first disgusting, which presents it to a chaos of facts apparently unconnected with each other. But this love of arrangement, if united with persevering industry, will at last conquer every difficulty; will introduce order into what seemed on a superficial view, a mass of confusion, and reduce the dry and uninteresting detail of positive statutes into a system comparatively luminous and beautiful.

The observation, I believe, may be made more general, and may be applied to every science in which there is a great multiplicity of facts to be remembered. A man destitute of genius may, with little effort, treasure up in his memory a number of particulars in chemistry or natu. ral history, which he refers to no principle, and from which he deduces no conclusion; and from his facility in acquiring this stock of information, may flatter himself with the belief that he possesses a natural taste

for these branches of knowledge. But they who are really destined to extend the boundaries of science, when they first enter on new pursuits, feel their attention distracted, and their memory overloaded with facts among which they can trace no relation, and are sometimes apt to despair entirely of their future progress. In due time, however, their superiority appears, and arises in part from that very dissatistaction which they at first experienced, and which does not cease to stimulate their inquiries, till they are enabled to trace, amidst a chaos of apparently unconnected materials, that simplicity and beauty which always characterize the operations of nature.

There are, besides, other circumstances which retard the progress of a man of genius, when he enters on a new pursuit, and which sometimes render him apparently inferior to those who are possessed of ordinary capacity. A want of curiosity, and of invention, facilitates greatly the acquisition of knowledge. It renders the mind passive, in receiving the ideas of others, and saves all the time which might be employed in examining their foundation, or in tracing their consequences. They who are possessed of such acuteness and originality, enter with difficulty into the views of others; not from any defect in their power of apprehension, but because they cannot adopt opinions which they have not examined, and because their attention is often seduced by their own speculations.

Men

It is not merely in the acquisition of knowledge that a man of genius is likely to find himself surpassed by others: he has commonly his information much less at command, than those who are possessed of an inferior degree of originality; and, what is somewhat remarkable, he has it least of all at command on those subjects on which he has found his invention most fertile. Sir Isaac Newton, as we are told by Dr. Pembertor, was often at a loss, when the conversation turned on his own discoveries. It is probable that they made but a slight impression on his mind, and that a consciousness of his inventive powers prevented him from taking much pains to treasure them up in his memory. of little ingenuity seldom forget the ideas they acquire; because they know that when an occasion occurs for applying their knowledge to use, they must trust to memory and not to invention. Explain an arithmetical rule to a person of common understanding, who is unacquainted with the principles of the science; he will soon get the rule by heart, and become dexterous in the application of it. Another, of more ingenuity, will examine the principle of the rule before he applies it to use, and will scarcely take the trouble to commit to memory a process, which he knows he can, at any time, with a little reflection recover. The consequence will be, that, in the practice of calculation, he will appear more slow and hesitating, than if he followed the received rules of arithmetic without reflection or reasoning.

Something of the same kind happens every day in conversation. By far the greater part of the opinions we announce in it, are not the immediate result of reasoning on the spot, but have been previously formed

* I mean a want of curiosity about truth. "There are many men," says Dr. Butler, "who have a strong curiosity to know what is said, who have little or no curiosity to know what is true."

† See Note (T.)