Indian and in the juggler's mind. The fame of the cure was spread far and wide. The fountain from which the water was drawn was ever after considered as possessed of particular virtues, the shell from which it was drank was set apart from vulgar uses, the day on which the experiment was made received a new name, and was deemed lucky; the posture of the body, and the point of the horizon in which the face was held, were also accounted lucky, for the sake of those who might afterwards have occasion to apply the remedy.

Corol. 1. Here, then, is the source of one species of superstition due to the influence of association; and it sufficiently proves how mankind are misled in those anticipations of the future from the past, which are the foundation of their conduct in life.

2. The reasonings we have now used may be extended also to analogous prejudices which warp our opinions respecting the customs and manners of our country; the form and exercise of its government; the execution of its laws, and the administration of justice; our manner of life and course of education; but weakness and versatility of mind, and the same facility of association we have contemplated in the Indian, are sources of national prejudice and national bigotry, among enlightened Europeans.

239. Thirdly. We have now to consider the third class of our speculative errors, arising from the association of ideas connecting in the mind erroneous opinions, with truths which irresistibly command our assent, and which we feel to be of importance to our happiness.

Illus. We have seen how all the different circumstances which accompanied the first administration of a remedy, come to be considered as essential to its future success, and are blended together in the conceptions of the mind, without any discrimination of their relative importance; and we shall now show, that whatever tenets and religious ceremonies men have been taught to connect with the religious creed of their infancy, become almost a part of their constitution, by being indissolubly united with truths which are essential to their happiness, and which they are led to reverence and to love with all the best dispositions of the heart.

Example. A young English officer had saved the life of a Brahmin's daughter. The Brahmin grew old and fell sick. On his deathbed he exclaimed to the officer, "Is it possible that he to whose compassion I owe the preservation of my child, and who now soothes my last moments with the consolations of piety, should not believe in the god Vistnou, and his nine metamorphoses!

Here we have all the evidence the thing admits of, that the astonishment of the learned and venerable Brahmin was of a piece with what the rudest of mankind feel when they see the rites of a religion different from their own. The Brahmin seemed to question whether there could be any thing worthy in the mind which treated with indifference what awakened in his own breast all its best and sublimest emotions. The peasant views the rites of a religion different from that in which he was educated, with an astonishment as great as if he

saw some flagrant breach of the moral duties, or some direct act of impiety to God.

Corol. What has now been said on the nature of religious superstition, may be applied to many other subjects; and in particular to those political prejudices which bias the judgment even of enlightened men in all countries of the world. And with this remark we may therefore conclude here, that as, in ancient Rome, it was regarded as the mark of a good citizen never to despair of the fortunes of the republic;-so the good citizen of the world, the philosopher, and the Christian, whatever may be the political, the scientific, and the religious aspect of their own times, will never despair of the fortunes of the human race; but will act upon the conviction that prejudice, slavery, and corruption-ignorance, error, and speculative mysticism-irreligion, vice, and impiety-must gradually give way to truth, liberty, and virtue; to knowledge, good sense, and happiness; to piety, charity, and benevolence.

Thirdly, of the Influence of arbitrary Associations, as it affects our moral Judgment.

240. Our moral judgments may be modified and even perverted to a certain degree, in consequence of the influence of arbitrary associations; for there is a fashion, not only in matters of taste and speculative inquiry, but even in morality and religion.

Illus. In the same manner in which a person who is regarded as a model of taste, may introduce, by his example, an absurd or fantastical dress, so a man of splendid virtues may attract some esteem also to his imperfections; and, if placed in a conspicuous situation, may render his vices and follies objects of general imitation among the multitude. What a libel on human reason! to be ever swayed by the mere influence of casual association, and the false shame of avowing ourselves habitually the friends of virtue, because knaves have nicknamed such tergiversations marks of superior endowments, and proofs of a mind emancipated from vulgar prejudices. (See Dr. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, for the most luminous views of this part of our subject.)

241. Again, if we examine the moral and religious opinions which have prevailed in different ages of the world, and among people of different climates and nations, we shall find a striking diversity in many important particulars.

Illus. 1. The ancient heathen and the modern savage enjoin us, while we do all the good we can to our friends, to be equally studious to injure our enemies. The milder precepts of Christianity, on the other hand, exhort us to an unlimited forgiveness of injuries. Among the Romans, suicide was a virtue; among Christians, it is a crime of the deepest dye. The South Sea Islanders, and the ancient Lacedemonians, practised theft without scruple; while, by the laws of Europe, it is punished with imprisonment, banishment, and death.

2. The heathen and the savage combine the ideas of valor and heroism with the revenge of injuries and the destruction of their enemies; and hence deem such conduct as praiseworthy, as gratitude for benefits received. But the more enlightened Christian discerns true magnanimity in the forgiveness of injuries; and justly accounts it a greater act of heroism to return good for evil, than to satisfy the impulse of his vengeance. The heathen looks upon suicide as an heroic act; the better instruction of the Christian leads him to consider it as a proof of timidity, as well as a highly culpable renunciation of the control of the supreme power. This diversity of opinion proves the extensive influence of the principle of association, which, however it may bias, can never totally subvert the power of the moral sense. (See Chapter XII. of this Book.)

3. With respect to the practice of theft, so prevalent among certain tribes, it may be remarked, that in those countries where it has prevailed, property has been considered as of little or no value. In the South Sea Islands, the spontaneous bounty of nature renders hoarding almost superfluous; and, in ancient Sparta, the accumulation of property was positively prohibited. In this latter country, too, it was merely the display of skill that sanctioned the theft; for detection was sure to cover the perpetrator with indelible disgrace.

Corol. Thus, it appears, that the diversities which are discovered in the moral sentiments of mankind, arise from known laws of the human constitution. The basis on which these moral sentiments are founded is immutable; but they may be variously modified, according to circumstances peculiar to the individual. It is thus that the language of different tribes assumes a particular character and idiom, according to the peculiar circumstances of their situation; but the fundamental principles of grammar continue radically the same in all dialects. (Illus. 1, 2. and Corol. Art. 62.)

Note. The power of association or combination, in regulating the succession of our ideas, and in directing the transition from one object of thought to another, will be examined when we come to treat of "IMAGINATION," and "THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND."

CHAPTER VIII.

OF MEMORY.

I. Things obvious with Regard to Memory.

242. MEMORY is the faculty by which the mind has a knowledge of what it had formerly perceived, felt or thought. (See Illus. Art. 22. and the Illus. to Art. 139.)

Mus. 1. It is by memory that we have an immediate knowledge of things past. The senses give us information of things only as they

exist in the present moment; and this information, if it were not preserved by Memory, would vanish instantly, and leave us as ignorant as if it had never been. (See Art. 124. Illus. and Corol.)

2. Memory must have an object. Every man who remembers, must remember something, and that which he remembers, is called the object of his remembrance. In this, Memory is allied to Perception, but differs from Sensation, which has no object but the feeling itself. (See Art. 125. and its Illus.)

3. We can distinguish the thing remembered from the remembrance of it. We may remember any thing which we have seen, or heard, or known, or done, or suffered; but the remembrance of it is a particular act of the mind which now exists, and of which we are conscious. (See Illus. Art. 99.)

Corol. The object of Memory being something that is past, and the object of Perception and of Consciousness something which is present; what now is, cannot be an object of Memory; neither can that which is past and gone be an object of Perception or of Consciousness.

243. Memory is always accompanied with the BELIEF of that which we remember, as Perception is accompanied with the belief of that which we perceive, and Consciousness with the belief of that whereof we are conscious. (See Art. 100. Illus.)

Illus. This belief, which we have from distinct Memory, we account real knowledge, no less certain than if it was grounded on demonstration; no man in his wits calls it in question, nor will he hear any argument against it. But it cannot be resolved into the evidence of sense, or of any process of Memory, but must be stated as a peculiar kind of evidence, which we are so constituted as to admit of itself immediately, and incontestably. The testimony of witnesses, in causes of life and death, depends upon it, and all the knowledge mankind have of past events is built upon this foundation. (See Illus. 2. Art. 116.)

Obs. There are cases in which our Memory is less distinct and determinate, and where we must frequently allow that it may have failed us; but this does not in the least weaken its credit where it is perfectly distinct.

244. To the exercise of Memory, we appear to be entirely indebted for the notion of time or duration; for a being, destitute of that faculty, could never have possessed that notion; and without Memory, he would have no idea of such a thing as motion, for motion is a successive change of place, and presupposes the notion of succession, or duration.

Illus. 1. Memory implies a conception and belief of past DURATION; for it is impossible that we should remember any thing distinctly, without believing some interval of duration, more or less, to have passed between the time it happened, and the present moment; and, if we had no Memory, we could acquire no notion of duration.

2. Things remembered must be things formerly perceived or known. I remember the comet of 1811. I must, therefore, have perceived it

at the time it appeared, otherwise I could not remember it. (See Illus. 2. Art. 59.) Our first acquaintance with any object of thought cannot therefore be by remembrance; for Memory can only produce a continuance or renewal of a former acquaintance with the thing remembered.

3. The notion of limited duration which we distinctly remember, leads us, by a kind of necessity, to the admission of a duration which has no limits which neither began nor will have an end. In like manner, the notions of limited extension and magnitude, which we acquire by the senses, leads to the belief of an unlimited extension, or of space which has no bounds.

4. Thus are acquired the notions of infinite space, and of infinite time or eternity. It cannot, however, be pretended, that our finite capacities are capable of forming adequate conceptions of that which is infinite and unbounded; it can only be said, that there is less difficulty in conceiving infinite space, than in conceiving the final boundaries of space, or the beginning or end of time.

245. The remembrance of a past event is necessarily accompanied with the conviction of our own EXISTENCE at the time the event happened.

Illus. I cannot call to my remembrance the death of the amiable and lamented Princess Charlotte, that happened a year ago, without a conviction as strong as memory can give, that I, the identical person who now remember that mournful event, did then exist. (See Illus. to Art. 52.)

Obs. These are principles obvious and certain, of which the reader must judge by what he feels; and they admit no other proof but an appeal to his own reflection.

II. Of Memory as an original Faculty.

246. Of our ORIGINAL FACULTIES, of which Memory is one, we can give no account, but that they were given us by the Author of our being. (See Art. 130.)

Illus. 1. The knowledge we have by Memory of things past, seems as unaccountable as an immediate knowledge would be of things to come. I find in my mind a distinct conception and a firm belief of a series of past events, as the battle of Trafalgar, the battle of Vittoria; but I know not how this is produced. I call it Memory, but this is only giving a name to it; it is not an account of its cause. I remember the building of Waterloo Bridge; I have seen hundreds of men employed on it, and thousands of blocks of granite used in its construction, and I most firmly believe these facts; but I am unable to give any reason of this belief. I conclude, therefore, that it is the inspiration of my Maker that gives me this understanding.

2. When I believe that I washed my hands and face this morning, there appears no necessity in the truth of this proposition: it might be, or it might not be. You may distinctly conceive it without believing it. But how do I come to believe it?-I remember it distinct