Now let me turn to memory, the treasure-house of all we have discovered and the guardian of every part of rhetoric.
Whether memory can be artificial,1 or proceeds entirely from nature, we will discuss at a more appropriate time. For now I will take for granted that art and instruction are of great value in this area, and speak accordingly. I am satisfied that there is an art of memory – why I think so I will explain elsewhere. For now let me explain what memory is.
There are, then, two types of memory, one natural, the other artificial, that is, produced by art. Natural memory is embedded in our minds and comes into being together with thought. Artificial memory is memory improved by practice and systematic instruction. But, as with everything else, natural talent at its best resembles what is provided by instruction, while art strengthens and enhances the advantages of nature. So in this case, if someone is endowed with an outstanding natural memory, it closely resembles the artificial, while the artificial retains and amplifies the advantages of nature through methodical instruction. Therefore natural memory is to be strengthened by instruction in order to become extraordinary, and the type of memory that is supplied by instruction requires natural talent. It is neither more nor less true here than in the other arts that teaching thrives on talent, and nature thrives on instruction. The training offered here will be useful to those of you who already possess a good memory by nature, as you will understand presently. And even if those who are naturally gifted have no need of our instruction, it would still be right to offer it as an aid to those who have received less from nature.
So let me speak of artificial memory. Artificial memory consists of places or backgrounds and images. By places we mean distinct locales, either natural or manmade, that are modest in size, complete in themselves and somehow striking, so that we can easily grasp and embrace them in our natural memory. A place might be a building, a space between columns, a corner, an arch or anything of the sort. An image is a figure, mark or replica of whatever we wish to remember. For example, if we wish to remember a horse, a lion and an eagle, we will place images of them in specific places. Just as those who know letters can write down what is dictated to them and recite what they have written, so too those who have studied mnemonics can situate in places the things they have heard and having extracted them, recite from memory. The places are like wax-tablets or sheets of papyrus, the images are the letters, the arrangement of the images is like script, and delivery is like reading. Thus, if we want to remember many things, we must prepare for ourselves many places so that we can deposit many images. It is also necessary to have the places in an order or sequence. Otherwise the randomness of the arrangement will make it impossible for us to follow the images forwards or backwards from our chosen starting point and keep us from speaking out what has been deposited in the places. For example, if we see numerous acquaintances standing in order it makes no difference whether we recite their names starting from the beginning, the end or the middle of the line. The same will be true of places that have been put in order: wherever we start, in whichever direction we choose to proceed, reminded by the images we will be able to speak out what we have entrusted to the places. This is why I recommend arranging places in a distinct order.
We will have to study the selected places thoroughly, so that they remain with us always. Images, like letters, are wiped away when we no longer need them, but places, like wax, should remain. In order not to be mistaken about the number of places, we should make note of every fifth one. For example in the fifth we might set a golden hand, in the tenth a man named Decimus2 – it will be easy to do likewise for every fifth place. It will be more useful to set our places in a deserted region, as opposed to a busy one, because the crowd of people walking back and forth will confuse and weaken the marks of the images, whereas solitude will keep their shapes precise. Moreover, we should prepare places that differ from one another in type and form, so that they will be distinctly visible. If we select a series of intercolumnar spaces, confusion arising from their similarity will keep us from remembering what belongs in each place. The places should be of moderate height and width, if too large the images will seem vague, if too narrow, it becomes difficult to insert the images. The places must not be too bright or too dark so that the images aren’t obscured by shadows and don’t produce a glare from their brightness. The interval between places should also be modest, roughly thirty feet. Just like eyesight, thought is weakened if you move the object too far or near.
It’s easy enough for a person of broad experience to prepare many suitable places. And if someone thinks he can’t find enough that are suitable, then he can invent as many as he wishes. For cognition is able to embrace any region, and in it construct and arrange the setting that constitutes a place. Thus if we are not satisfied with the available supply of places we can construct a region in our imagination and provide a useful distribution of distinct places.
About places this is enough. Let us now discuss images. Because images must resemble real entities, for every real entity we must select an image. Thus likenesses can be based on entities themselves or their associated words. Likenesses based on entities are formed when we supply images that encapsulate the object or activity. Likenesses based on words are established when the memory of each proper and common noun is fixed in an image.
Often we encompass our record of an entire affair in a single notation or image. For example, let’s say a prosecutor argues that the victim was poisoned by the defendant, that the motive of the crime was inheritance, and that there were many witnesses and accessories to the crime. If in order to facilitate our defence we wish to remember these claims first and foremost, then we will fashion an image of the entire affair in the first place or locale. If we know what the alleged victim looked like, we will fashion an image of him lying ill in his bed; if we aren’t familiar with him, then we can use an image of another invalid, but not someone of low rank, so that he will come to mind quickly. And we will place the defendant at his bedside with a cup in his right hand, tablets in the left, and hanging from his fourth finger the testicles of a ram.3 In this way we have a record of the witnesses, will and victim of poisoning. We can place the other charges sequentially in places, and whenever we wish to recall something, we can easily seek it in memory by attending to the disposition of shapes and noting the images.
When we intend to use images to convey the likenesses of words, we take on a greater task requiring greater ingenuity. We should do this as follows:
Now the royal sons of Atreus prepare the homecoming.
(Iam domum itionem reges Atridae parant)
If we want to remember this verse, it will be useful to put in the first location Domitius4 lifting his hands to the heavens while being lashed by the Marcii Reges:5 that will cover the section iam domum itionem reges. In the second place will be the actors Aesop and Cimber6 dressed to perform the roles of Agamemnon and Menelaus in the Iphigenia – this will do for the words Atridae parant.7 In this way all of the words will be depicted. But this arrangement of images is only successful if we use our notation to stimulate the natural memory, which entails running through the target verse two or three times to ourselves before representing the words with images. In this way instruction will assist nature. For each on its own is less reliable than the two combined, although methodical instruction is, by itself, much the stronger of the two. I wouldn’t hesitate to explain this except that I’m worried that if I depart from my proposed outline, the clear and concise nature of my teaching will be undermined.
Some images are strong, sharp and serviceable as reminders, while others are weak, feeble and scarcely able to stimulate recollection. We must consider the basis for this distinction, and with such knowledge in mind, determine what type of images to seek and what type to avoid. Actually, nature itself tells us what to do. For if in everyday life we see objects that are small, familiar and always at hand, we tend not to remember them, because the mind is not being affected by anything new or remarkable. But if we see something that is especially shameful, immoral, unfamiliar, grand, incredible or ridiculous, we generally keep it in mind. We often forget what is immediately present to our eyes or ears. We often remember especially well things that happened in childhood. There can be no other reason for this than that familiar items easily slip from memory while what is unusual or new remains for a longer time. No one is surprised by the rising of the sun, its movement across the sky or its setting, because these things happen every day. Eclipses are noticed because they happen infrequently; and solar eclipses are more noteworthy than lunar because the latter are more frequent. Thus nature is not aroused by a commonplace object or event, but it is stirred up by something new and distinctive. Art should imitate nature, finding what nature desires and pursuing what nature displays. Nothing is discovered by nature last or by art first. So too, beginnings proceed from inborn talent, but learning produces outcomes.
We must develop images, then, of the type that will remain in memory for a long time. This will happen if we pick images that are as distinctive as possible, not vague or overly complex, but engaging in some activity; if they are especially beautiful or ugly; if we dress some of them in crowns or purple robes, to make the likeness move distinct, or depict some as bloody or filthy or smeared with red, to make the form more striking, or if we make the images somehow comical, for this too facilitates memory. Things we easily remember when they are real are not hard to remember when they are depictions that have been carefully designed. But it will be necessary again and again to pass through the original places quickly in order to keep the images fresh.
I know that most Greeks who have written about memory have drawn up lists of images corresponding to words, so that the learner can have them at the ready and not waste energy in seeking them out. I disapprove of this method for a number of reasons. First because it is ridiculous to gather images for, say, a thousand words, when there are countless words in existence. How effective can this be, if in practice we are required to remember any of an infinite supply of words? Second, why would we deprive anyone of the opportunity to take the initiative, but instead supply him with anything he seeks without his having to seek it?8 Moreover, different people are affected by different resemblances. Often if we say that one shape resembles another, not everyone agrees, because it looks different to different viewers. So too with images: what to us seems carefully matched, to another is hardly noticeable. Thus it’s really best for each of us to supply our own images. Finally, it is up to the instructor to explain how to seek an appropriate image, and to offer one or two examples, but hardly an example for everything, for the purposes of clarification. For example, when I teach how to develop an introduction to a speech, I present a method, but don’t write out a thousand introductions! I think the same procedure applies with images.
Now just in case you are of the opinion that remembering words is too difficult or not very useful, and are content with remembering content, thinking it easier and more productive, you need to be reminded of why I do not disapprove of remembering words. I believe that people who would like to perform easier tasks without toil or trouble should exercise first on more difficult tasks. What’s more, I don’t propose memorization of words to help us recite poetry, but instead want this exercise to strengthen memory of content, which is in fact more useful. From the difficult practice of verbatim memory we can effortlessly make a transition to the other kind.
Still, just as in every other discipline, instruction is ineffective without the utmost practice, so too with mnemonics, teaching has little effect unless it is reinforced with industry, study, effort and attention. In order to assure that you have as many places as possible and that they are as well adapted to precepts as possible it will be useful to practise placing images on a daily basis. Although we are sometimes distracted from other studies, nothing can be allowed to interfere with memory exercises. There is never a time when we aren’t trying to commit something to memory, least of all when we are engrossed in some important business. Ease of recollection is a useful skill, and as you know, the greater the benefit to be obtained, the greater the effort it’s worth investing. You yourself will be able to make the right evaluation once you recognize its utility. It’s not my intent to preach further on this topic. I don’t want to seem uncertain of your commitment or to have spoken less than the subject requires.