o peacefully, that the marvellous change had been indeed
wrought, and the cruel demons of memory that had so often lurked behind
the low, white forehead were at last no more.

When he returned to the office, Dr. Heidenhoff had seated himself, and
was contemplatively smoking.

"She was sleeping, I presume," he said.

"Soundly," replied Henry.

"That is well. I have the best of hopes. She is young. That is a
favourable element in an operation of this sort."

Henry said nothing, and there was a considerable silence. Finally the
doctor observed, with the air of a man who thinks it just as well to
spend the time talking--

"I am fond of speculating what sort of a world, morally speaking, we
should have if there were no memory. One thing is clear, we should have
no such very wicked people as we have now. There would, of course, be
congenitally good and bad dispositions, but a bad disposition would not
grow worse and worse as it does now, and without this progressive badness
the depths of depravity are never attained."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because it is the memory of our past sins which demoralizes as, by
imparting a sense of weakness and causing loss of self-respect. Take the
memory away, and a bad act would leave us no worse in character than we
were before its commission, and not a whit more likely to repeat it than
we were to commit it the first time."

"But surely our good or bad acts impress our own characters for good or
evil, and give an increased tendency one way or the other."

"Excuse me, my dear sir. Acts merely express the character. The
recollection of those acts is what impresses the character, and gives it
a tendency in a particular direction. And that is why I say, if memory
were abolished, constitutionally bad people would remain at their
original and normal degree of badness, instead of going from bad to
worse, as they always have done hitherto in the history of mankind.
Memory is the principle of moral degeneration. Remembered sin is the most
utterly diabolical influence in the universe. It invariably either
debauches or martyrizes men and women, accordingly as it renders them
desperate and hardened, or makes them a prey to undying grief and
self-contempt. When I consider that more sin is the only anodyne for sin,
and that the only way to cure the ache of conscience is to harden it, I
marvel that even so many as do essay the bitter and hopeless way of
repentance and reform. In the main, t