As the memory, appears to be particularly defective in cases of insanity, it is much to be wished, that we possessed a correct history, and physiological account of this wonderful faculty. Unfortunately, this knowledge is not to be sought for with much prospect of attainment, from books which treat of the human mind and its philosophy; nor is the present work, to be considered as the depository of such information. A deliberate attention, to the precise order in which we acquire information on any subject; a consideration of the effects of its repetition; an investigation of the result (comparing it to a chain) whenever the links are separated, together with a knowledge of the contrivance of abbreviated signs, would perhaps render the matter sufficiently intelligible. But it would be necessary, thoroughly to understand the nature of the thing, of which the sign has been abbreviated: particularly, as the usual mode of education is satisfied with possessing the convenience of the abbreviation, without any inquiry into the nature of the thing, and the cause of the abbreviation of its sign. This faulty mode of instruction, has furnished us with a profusion of names, and left us ignorant of the things they represent. Ben Johnson has afforded us the shortest, and probably, the best account of memory. "_Memory_ of all the _powers_ of the mind, is the most _delicate_, and frail: It is the first of our _faculties_ that age invades. Seneca, the Father, the _Rhetorician_, confesseth of himself, he had a miraculous one, not only to receive, but to hold. I myself could in my youth, have repeated all that ever I had made, and so continued till I was past forty: since it is much decayed in me. Yet I can repeat whole books that I have read, and _Poems_ of some selected friends, which I have lik'd to charge my memory with. It was wont to be faithful to me, but shaken with _Age_ now, and _Sloth_ (which weakens the strongest abilities) it may perform somewhat, but cannot promise much. By exercise it is to be made better and serviceable. Whatsoever I pawn'd with it while I was young and a boy, it offers me readily, and without stops: but what I trust to it now, or have done of later years, it lays up more negligently, and sometimes loses; so that I receive mine own (though frequently called for) as if it were new and borrow'd. Nor do I always find presently from it what I do seek; but while I am doing another thing, that I laboured for will come: and what I sought with trouble, will offer itself when I am quiet. Now in some men I have found it as happy as nature, who, whatsoever they read or pen, they can say without book presently; as if they did then write in their mind. And it is more a wonder in such as have a swift stile, for their Memories are commonly slowest; such as torture their writings, and go into council for every word, must needs fix somewhat, and make it their own at last, though but through their own vexation."--_Discoveries, vol. vi. p.