ent of belief that is the distinctive thing in memory.*

* For belief of a specific kind, cf. Dorothy Wrinch "On the
Nature of Memory," "Mind," January, 1920.

There are, if I am not mistaken, at least three different kinds of
belief-feeling, which we may call respectively memory, expectation and
bare assent. In what I call bare assent, there is no time-element in
the feeling of belief, though there may be in the content of what is
believed. If I believe that Caesar landed in Britain in B.C. 55, the
time-determination lies, not in the feeling of belief, but in what is
believed. I do not remember the occurrence, but have the same feeling
towards it as towards the announcement of an eclipse next year. But when
I have seen a flash of lightning and am waiting for the thunder, I
have a belief-feeling analogous to memory, except that it refers to the
future: I have an image of thunder, combined with a feeling which may be
expressed in the words: "this will happen." So, in memory, the pastness
lies, not in the content of what is believed, but in the nature of
the belief-feeling. I might have just the same images and expect their
realization; I might entertain them without any belief, as in reading a
novel; or I might entertain them together with a time-determination, and
give bare assent, as in reading history. I shall return to this subject
in a later lecture, when we come to the analysis of belief. For the
present, I wish to make it clear that a certain special kind of belief
is the distinctive characteristic of memory.

The problem as to whether memory can be explained as habit or
association requires to be considered afresh in connection with the
causes of our remembering something. Let us take again the case of my
being asked what I had for breakfast this morning. In this case the
question leads to my setting to work to recollect. It is a little
strange that the question should instruct me as to what it is that I am
to recall. This has to do with understanding words, which will be the
topic of the next lecture; but something must be said about it now. Our
understanding of the words "breakfast this morning" is a habit, in spite
of the fact that on each fresh day they point to a different occasion.
"This morning" does not, whenever it is used, mean the same thing, as
"John" or "St. Paul's" does; it means a different period of time on
each different day. It follows that the habit which constitutes
our understan