es through its brain
as true; it has no distinct conception of an idea which is strong,
bright, and permanent, but which is false too. The mere presentation of
an idea, unless we are careful about it, or unless there is within some
unusual resistance, makes us believe it; and this is why the belief of
others adds to our belief so quickly, for no ideas seem so very clear
as those inculcated on us from every side.

The grave part of mankind are quite as liable to these imitated beliefs
as the frivolous part. The belief of the money-market, which is mainly
composed of grave people, is as imitative as any belief. You will find
one day everyone enterprising, enthusiastic, vigorous, eager to buy,
and eager to order: in a week or so you will find almost the whole
society depressed, anxious, and wanting to sell. If you examine the
reasons for the activity, or for the inactivity, or for the change, you
will hardly be able to trace them at all, and as far as you can trace
them, they are of little force. In fact, these opinions were not formed
by reason, but by mimicry. Something happened that looked a little
good, on which eager sanguine men talked loudly, and common people
caught their tone. A little while afterwards, and when people were
tired of talking this, something also happened looking a little bad, on
which the dismal, anxious people began, and all the rest followed their
words. And in both cases an avowed dissentient is set down as
'crotchety.' 'If you want,' said Swift, 'to gain the reputation of a
sensible man, you should be of the opinion of the person with whom for
the time being you are conversing.' There is much quiet intellectual
persecution among 'reasonable' men; a cautious person hesitates before
he tells them anything new, for if he gets a name for such things he
will be called 'flighty,' and in times of decision he will not be
attended to.

In this way the infection of imitation catches men in their most inward
and intellectual part--their creed. But it also invades men--by the
most bodily part of the mind--so to speak--the link between soul and
body--the manner. No one needs to have this explained; we all know how
a kind of subtle influence makes us imitate or try to imitate the
manner of those around us. To conform to the fashion of Rome--whatever
the fashion may be, and whatever Rome we may for the time be at--is
among the most obvious needs of human nature. But what is not so
obvious, though as certain