ABSTRACT
As the 1860s approached, Faraday's memory (never good, as his earlier letters tell) deteriorated still further. Much of his writing throughout the final decade of his life is dominated by the frustration of not remembering how to end what he had begun, as in a letter of 1857 to Reverend John Barlow, who at the time was the Honorary Secretary of the Royal Lnstitution. Nevertheless, Faraday analysed his defect with undiminished clarity:
I am in town, and at work more or less every day. My memory wearies me greatly in working, for I cannot remember from day to day the conclusions I come to, and all has to be thought out many times over. To write it down gives no assistance, for what is written down is itself forgotten. It is only by very slow degrees that this state of mental muddiness can be wrought either through or under. Nevertheless, I know that to work somewhat is far better than to stand still, even if nothing comes of it. It is better for the mind itself-not being quite sure whether I shall ever end the research, and yet,being sure, that if in my former state of memory, I could work it out in a week or two to a successful and affirmative result. Do not be amazed by what I am telling you. It is simply the thing I remember to tell you. If other things occurred to my mind, I would tell you of them. But one thing which often
withholds me is that if I begin a thing, I find I do not report it correctly, and so naturally withdraw from attempting it. One result of short memory is coming curiously into play with me. I forget how to spell. I dare say if I were to read this letter again, I should find four or five words of which I am doubtful ('withholds, wearies, successful,' etc.) but I cannot stop for them, or to look to a dictionary (for I had better cease to write altogether), but I just send them, with all their imperfections, knowing that you will receive them kindly.
