impresses itself more vividly in the memory, as a
natural consequence. Not only so, but its related objects or ideas are
brought up by the principle of association, and they too make a deeper
impression and are more closely remembered. In fact, one thing carefully
observed and memorized, leads almost insensibly to another that is
related to it, and thus the faculty of association is strengthened, the
memory is stimulated, and the seeds of knowledge are deeply planted in
that complex organism which we call the mind. This power of attention, of
keeping an object or a subject steadily in view until it is absorbed or
mastered, is held by some to be the most distinctive element in genius.
Most people have not this habit of concentration of the mind, but allow
it to wander aimlessly on, flitting from subject to subject, without
mastering any; but then, most people are not geniuses. The habit to be
cultivated is that of thinking persistently of only one thing at a time,
sternly preventing the attention from wandering.

It may be laid down as an axiom that the two corner-stones of memory are
attention and association. And both of these must act in harmony, the
habit of fixed attention being formed or guided by the will, before a
normal or retentive memory becomes possible. What is called cultivating
the memory, therefore, does not mean anything more than close attention
to whatever we wish to remember, with whatever associations naturally
cling to it, until it is actually mastered. If one has not an instinctive
or naturally strong memory, he should not rest satisfied with letting the
days go by until he has improved it. The way to improve it, is to begin
at the foundation, and by the constant exercise of the will-power, to
take up every subject with fixed attention, and one at a time, excluding
every other for the time being. There is no doubt whatever that the
memory is capable of indefinite improvement; and though one's first
efforts in that direction may prove a disappointment, because only
partially successful, he should try, and try again, until he is rewarded
with the full fruits of earnest intellectual effort, in whatever field.
He may have, at the start, instead of a fine memory, what a learned
professor called, "a fine forgettery," but let him persevere to the end.
None of us were made to sit down in despair because we are not endowed
with an all-embracing memory, or because we cannot "speak with the
tongues of men and