"Well, everybody thinks he's got a good memory," replied Mr. Pulitzer.
"I only claimed a fairly good one," I protested.
"Oh! that's just an affectation; as a matter of fact you think you've
got a splendid memory, don't you? Now, be frank about it; I love people
to be frank with me."
My valor got the better of my discretion, and I replied that if he
really wished me to be frank I was willing to admit that I had no
particular desire to lay claim to a good memory, for I was inclined to
accept the view which I had once heard expressed by a very wise man of
my acquaintance that the human mind was not intended to remember with
but to think with, and that one of the greatest benefits which had been
conferred on mankind by the discovery of printing was that thousands of
things could be recorded for reference which former generations had been
compelled to learn by rote.
"Your wise friend," he cried, "was a damned fool! If you will give the
matter a moment's thought you'll see that memory is the highest faculty
of the human mind. What becomes of all your reading, all your
observation, your experience, study, investigations, discussions--in a
rushing crescendo--if you have no memory?"
"I might reply," I said, "by asking what use it is to lumber up your
mind with a mass of information of which you are only going to make an
occasional use when you can have it filed away in encyclopedias and
other works of reference, and in card indexes, instantly available when
you want it.
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