fe &:,: \ ■ rj'. . w ■m ■■:.WA: 3l NATIONAL LIBRARY OF MEDICINE Bethesda, Maryland limits to the extravagancies of those visions sometimes called into birth by the vivid exercise of the imagination. Contrasted with them, the wildest fictions of Rabelais, Ariosto, or Dante, sink into abso- lute probabilities. I remember of dreaming on one oc- casion that I possessed ubiquty, twenty resemblances of myself appearing in as many different places, in the same room ; and each being so thoroughly possessed by my own mind, that I could not ascertain which of them was myself, and which my double, &c. On this occasion, fancy so far travelled into the regions of ab- surdity, that I conceived myself riding upon my own back—one of the resemblances being mounted upon another, and both animated with the soul appertaining to myself, in such a manner that I knew not whether I was the carrier or the carried. At another time, I dreamed that I was converted into a mighty pillar of stone, which reared its head in the midst of a desert, where it stood for ages, till generation after generation Bielted away before it. Even in this state, though un- conscious for possessing any organs of sense, or being else than a mass of lifeless stone, I saw every object around—the mountains growing bald with age—the forest trees drooping in decay ; and I heard whatever * Waller's ' Treatise on the Incubus or Nightmare.' 18 PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP.. sounds nature is in the custom of producing such as the thunder-peal breaking over my naked head, the winds howling past me, or the ceaseless murmur of streams. At last I also waxed old, and began to crum- ble into dust, while the moss and ivy accumulated, upon me, and stamped me with the aspect of hoar antiquity. The first of these visions may have arisen from reading Hoffman's ' Devil's Elixir,' where there is an account of a man who supposed he had a double, or, in other words, was both himself and not him- self ; and the second had perhaps its origin in the Heathen Mythology, a subject to whicl^I am extreme- ly partial, and which abounds in stories of metamor- phosis. Such dreams as occur in a state of drunkenness are remarkable for their extravagance. Exaggeration be- yond limits is a very general attendant upon them ; and they are usually of a more airy and fugitive character than those proceeding from almost any other source. The person seems as if he possessed unusual lightness, and could mount into the air, or float upon the clouds, while every object around him reels and staggers with emotion. But of all dreams, there are none which, for unlimited wildness, equal those produced by narcotics. An eminent artist, under the influence of-opium, fanci- ed the ghastly figures in Holbein's * Dance of Death' to become vivified—each grim skeleton being endowed with life and motion, and dancing and grinning with an aspect with hideous reality. The '"English Opium Eater,' in his ' Confessions,' has given a great variety of eloquent and appalling descriptions of the effects pro- duced by this drug upon the imagination during sleep. Listen to one of them :— ' Southern Asia is, and has been for thousands of years, the part of the earth most swarming with human life; the great offwina gentium. Man is a weed in those regions. The vast empires, also, into which the enormous population of Asia has always been cast, give a farther sublimity to the feelings associated with all Oriental names or images. In China, over and above what it has in common with the rest of Southern Asia, I am terrified by the modes of life', by the manners, and the barrier of utter abhorrence and want of sympathy placed between us by feelings deeper than lean ana- lyze. I could sooner live with lunatics or brute animals. All this, and much more than I can say, or have time to say the reader must enter into before he can compre- hend the unimaginable horror which these dreams of Oriental imagery and mythological tortures impressed upon me. Under the connecting feeling of tropical heat and vertical sunlights, I brought together all crea- tures, birds, beasts, reptiles, all trees 'and plants, usa- ges and appearances, that are found in all tropical re- gions, and assembled them together in China or Indos- tan. From kindred feelings I soon brought Egypt and all her gods under the same law. I was stared at, hooted at, grinned at, chattered at, by monkeys, by paroquets, and cockatoos. I ran into pagodas: and was fixed for centuries at the summit, or in the secret rooms ; I was the idol; I was the priest; I was wor- shipped ; I was sacrificed. I fled from the wrath of Brama through all the forests of Asia : Vishnu hated ine : Seeva laid in wait for me. I came suddenly up- on Isis and Osiris : I had done a deed, they said, which the ibis and the crocodile trembled at. I was buried for a thousand years, in stone coffins, with mummies and sphinxs, in narrow chambers, at the heart of eter- nal pyramids. I was kissed, with cancerous kisses, by crocodiles, and laid confounded with all unutterable slimy things, amongst reeds and Nilotic mud.' Again ; ' Hitherto the human face had mixed often in my dreams, but not so despotically, nor with any special power of tormenting. But now that which I have called the tyranny of the human face began to unfold itself. Perhaps some part of my London life might be answerable for this. Be that as it may, now it was that upon the rocking waters of the ocean, the human face began to appear; the sea appeared paved with innumerable faces, upturned to the heavens : faces imploring, wrathful, despairing, surged upwards by thousands, by myriads, by generations, by centuries : —my agitation was infinite—my mind tossed and suig- ed with the ocean.' I have already spoken of the analogy subsisting be- tween dreaming and insanity, and shall now mention a circumstance which occurs in both states, and points out a very marked similitude of mental condition. The same thing also occasionally, or rather frequently, takes place in drunkenness, which is, to all intents and pur- poses, a temporary paroxysm of madness. It often happens, for instance, that such objects or persons as we have seen before and are familiar with, become ut- terly changed in dreams, and bear not the slightest re- semblance to their real aspect. It might be thought that such a circumstanee would so completely annihi- late their identity as to prevent us from believing them to be what, by us, they are conceived; but such is not the case. We never doubt that the particular object or person presented to our eyes appears in its true character. In illustration of this fact, I may mention, that I lately visited the magnificent palace of Versail- les in a dream, but that deserted abode of kings stood not before me as when I have gazed upon it broad awake ; it was not only magnified beyond even its stu- pendous dimensions, and its countless splendors im- measurably increased, but the very aspect itself of the mighty pile was changed; and instead of stretching its huge Corinthian front along the entire breadth of an ela- borate and richly fantastic garden, adorned to profusion with alcoves, fountains, waterfalls, statues, and terraces, it stood alone in a boundless wilderness—an immense architectural creation of the Gothic ages, with a hun- dred spires and ten thousand minarets sprouting up, and piercing with their, pointed pinnacles the sky. The whole was as different as possible from the reality, but this never once occurred to my mind ; and, while gaz- ing upon the visionary fabric, I never doubted for anin- stant that it then appeared as it had ever done, and was in no degree different from what I had often previously beheld. Another dream I shall relate in illustration of this point. It was related to me by a young lady, and, in- dependent of its illustrative value, is well worthy of being preserved as a specimen of fine imagination. ' I dreamed,' said she, ' that I stood alone upon the brink of a dreadful precipice, at the bottom of which rolled a great river. While gazing awe-struck upon the gulph below, some one from behind laid a hand upon my shoulder, and, on looking back, I saw a tall, venerable figure with a long, flowing, silvery beard, and clothed in white garments, whom I at once knew to be the Saviour of the world. " Do you see," he inquired, " the great river that washes the foundation of the rock upon which you now stand \ I shall dry it up, so that not a drop of its waters shall remain, and all the fishes that are m it shall perish." He then waved his hand and the river was instantly dried up; and I saw the fashes gasping and writhing in the channel, where they all straightway died. "Now," said he, " the river is dried up and the fishes are dead ; but to give you a far- ther testimony of my power, I shall bring back the flood, and every creature that was wont to inhabit it shall live again." And he waved his hand a second time and the river was instantly restored, its dry bed filled with volumes of water, and all the dead fishes brought back unto life. On looking round to express to him my astonishment at those extraordinary mira- cles, and to fall down and worship him, he was gone ■ and 1 stood by myself upon the precipice, gazing with astonishment at the river which rolled a thousand feet beneath me.' In this fine vision, the difference be- tween tho aspect of Christ as he appeared in it, and as PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 19 he is represented in the sacred writings, as well as in paintings, did not suggest itself to the mind of the dreamer. He came in the guise of an aged man, which is diametrically opposite to our habitual impressions of his aspect. If it be asked what produces such differ- ences between the reality and the representation, I ap- prehend we must refer it to some sudden second dream or flash of thought breaking in upon the first, and con- fusing its character. For instance, I have a dream of an immense Gothic pile, when something about Ver- sailles, somehow, occurs to my mind, and this I imme- diately associate with the object before me. The lady has the idea of an old man in her dream, and the thought of Christ happening to come across her at the instant, she identifies it involuntarily with the object of her vision. There is yet another explanation of the latter. The old man has the power of working a great mira- cle ; so had Christ, and she is thus led to confound the two together. She,.it is true, imagines she knows the old man at once to be the Saviour, without any previ- ous intimation of his miraculous gifts ; but,' this, very possibly, may be a mistake ; and the knowledge which she only acquires after witnessing his power, she may, by the confusion attendant on dreams, suppose to have occurred to her in the first instance. These facts, com- bined with the dormant state of the reflecting faculties, which do not rectify the erroneous impressions, render the explanation of such dreams sufficiently easy, how- ever puzzling, and unaccountable at first sight. In some cases, the illusion is not merely confined to sleep, but extends itself to the waking state. To il- lustrate this I may state the following circumstance : Some years ago, my impressions concerning the aspect and localities of Inverness, were strangely confused by a dream which I had of that town, taking so strong a hold upon my fancy as to be mistaken for a reality. I had been there before, and was perfectly familiar with the appearance of the town, but this was presented in so different a light, and with so much force by the dream, that I, at last, became unable to say which of the two aspects was the real one. Indeed, the vision- ary panorama exhibited to my mind, took the strongest hold upon it; and I rather felt inclined to believe that this was the veritable appearance of the town, and that the one which I had actually beheld, was merely the illusion of the dream. This uncertainty continued for several years, till, being again in that quarter, I satis- fied myself on the real state of the case. On this oc- casion, the dream must have occurred to my mmd some time after it had happened, and taken such a firm hold upon it as to dethrone the reality, and taken its place I remember distinctly of fancying that the bttle woody hill of Tomnachurich was m the centre of the town, although it stands at some distance from it; that the principle steeple was on the opposite side of the street to that on which it stands ; and that the great mountain of Ben-Wevis, many miles off, was in the immediate neighborhood. . . The power of imagination is perhaps never so vividly displayed, as in those dreams which haunt the guilty mind. When anv crime of an infamous character has been perpetrated," and when the person is not so utterly hardened as to be insensible of his iniquity, the wide storehouse of retributive vengeance is opened upv and its appalling horrors poured upon him. In vain does he endeavor to expel the dreadful remembrance of his deeds, and bury them in forgetfulness ; from the abyss of slumber they start forth, as the vampyres start from their sepulchres, and hover around him like the furies that pursued the footsteps of Orestes ; while the voice of conscience stuns his ears with murmurs of judg- ment and eternity. Such is the punishment reserved for the guilty in sleep. During the busy stir of active existence, they may contrive to evade the memory of their wickedness—to silence the whispers of the ; still small voice' within them, and cheat themselves with a semblance of happiness ; but when their heads are laid upon the pillow, the flimsy veil which hung between them and crime, melts away like an illusive vapor, and displays the latter in naked and horrid deformity. Then, in the silence of night, the ' still small voice' is heard like an echo from the tomb ; then, a crowd of doleful remembrances rush in upon the criminal, no longer to be debarred from visiting the depths of his spirit; and when dreams succeed to such broken and miserable repose, it is only to aggravate his previous horrors, and present them in a character of still more overwhelming dread.* "Though thy slumber may be deep, Yet thy spirit shall not sleep; There are shades which will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish ; By a power to thee unknown, Thou canst never be alone ; Thou art wrapt, as with a shroud. Thou art gathered in a cloud ; And forever shalt thou dwell In the spirit, ot this spell." Such are the principal phenomena of dreams; and from them it will naturally be deduced, that dreaming may occur under a great variety of circumstances ; that it may result from the actual state of the body or mind, previous to falling asleep ; or exist as a train of emotions which can be referred to no apparent external cause. The forms it assumes are also as various as the causes giving rise to it, and much more striking in their nature. In dreams, imagination unfolds, most gorgeously, the ample stores of its richly decorated empire; and in proportion to the splendor of that faculty in any individual, are the visions which pass before him in sleep. But, even the most dull and pas- sionless, while under the dreaming influence, frequently enjoy a temporary inspiration : their torpid faculties are aroused from the benumbing spell which nung over them in the waking state, and lighted up with the .Pro- methean fire of genius and romance; the prose ot their frigid spirits is converted into magnificent poetry; the atmosphere around them peopled with new and un- heard-of imagery; and they walk in a region to which the proudest" flights of their limited energies could never otherwise have attained. I shall conclude this chapter with a few words on the management of dreams. When dreams are of a pleasing character, no one cares any thing about their removal : it is only when they get distressing and threaten to injure the health ot the individual, by frequent recurrence, that this becomes an important object. When dreams assume the cha- racter of nightmare, they must be managed according to the methods laid down for the cure of that affection. In all cases, the condition of the digestive organs must , be attended to, as any disordered state of these parts is * ' No fiction of romance presents so awful a picture of the ideal tyrant as that of Caligula by Suetonius. His pa >«»-«■ diant with purple and gold, but murder every where bu king be- neath flowers "his smiles and echoing >*Y^T*W§™. hardly meant to mask) his foul treachery of heart; tu«■ hideouj and tumultuous dreams; his baffled sleep, and his sleepless nights, compose the picture of an JEschylus. What a master's sketch lies in those few lines:-' Incitabatur msomnio maxime ; neque enim plus tribus horis nocturnis quiescebat; ac ne his pia- cida quiete, at pavida miris revum imaginibus; lit qui inter cet- eras pelagi quondam speciem colloquentem secum videre visus sit Ideoque magna parte noctis, vigilite cubandique tffidio, nunc toro residens, nunc per longissimas portions vagus, lnvo- care identidem atque expectare lucem consueverat;'—-i. e. aui above all, he was tormented with nervous irritation, by s eep- lessness ; for he enjoyed not more than three hours of noctmnai repose : nor even these in pure, untroubled rest, but ag tateoI ny phantasmata of portentous augury ; as for example upon one occasion he fancied he saw the sea, under some definite imper- sonation, conversing with himself. Hence «^sand from this incapacity of sleeping, and from weariness of jing awake tha^ he had fallen into habits of ranging all the night 'on? throu h» palace, sometimes throwing himself on a co«£. sometmes wandering alons the vast corrodors-wotching foi-the earlte t dawn, nnd anxiously invoking its approach.'-BfacAtoood s Mig'iziw*, vol. xxxiii. P- 59- 20 PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. apt to induce visions of a very painful character. Foi this purpose, mild laxatives may become useful ; and if the person is subject to heartburn, he should use a little magnesia, chalk, or carbonate of soda, occasion- ally. Attention, also, must be paid to the diet ; and as suppers, with some people, have a tendency to gene- rate dreams of all kinds, these meals should, in such cases, be carefully avoided. At the same time, great care should be taken not to brood over any subject upon lying down, but to dispel, as soon as possible, all intru- sive ideas, especially if they are of a painful nature. If there is any unpleasant circumstances, such as hard- ness, irregularity, &c, connected with the bed, which tends to affect sleep, and thus induce dreams, it must be removed. Late reading, the use of tea or coffee shortly before going to rest, or any thing which may stimulate the brain, ought likewise to be avoided. If dreaming seems to arise from any fulness of the system, blooding and low diet will sometimes effect a cure. Mr Stewart, the celebrated pedestrian traveller, states that he never dreamed when he lived exclusively upon vegetable food. This, however, may not hold true with every one. ' When dreams arise from a di- minution of customary stimuli, a light supper, a draught of porter, a glass of wine, or a dose of opium, general- ly prevent them. ' Habitual noises, when suspended should be restored.'* In speaking of dreams representative of danger, I may mention that there are instances of persons, who, having determined to remember that the perils seen in them are fallacious, have actually succeeded in doing so, while asleep'; and have thus escaped the terrors which those imaginary dangers could otherwise have produced. Haller relates a case of this kind ; and Mr Dugald Stewart mentions that the plan was successfully adopted by Dr Reid to get rid of the distress of those fearful visions by which he was frequently annoyed. Whenever, in a dream, the Doctor supposed himself ou the brink of a precipice, or any other dangerous situa- tion, it was his custom to throw himself over, and thus destroy the illusion. Dr Beattie also relates, that at one time he found himself in a dangerous situation upon the parapet of a bridge. Reflecting that he was not subject to pranks of this nature, he began to fancy that it might be a dream, and determined to pitch himself over, with the conviction that this would restore him to his senses, which accordingly took place.t I could never manage to carry this system into effect in an ordinary dream of terror, but I have sometimes suc- ceeded in doing so during an attack of nightmare ; and have thus very materially mitigated the alarm produced bv that distressing sensation. This intellectual opera- tion may also be successfuly employed to dispel the lowness of spirits under which we often awake from un- pleasant visions by teaching us that the depression we experience is merely the result of some unnatural excitement in the brain. Indeed, all kinds of melan- choly, not based upon some obvious foundation, might be mitigated or dispelled altogether, could we only oppose our feelings with the weapons of reason, and see things as they really are, and not as they only seem to be. CHAPTER IV. PROPHETIC POWER OF DREAMS. Dreams have been looked upon by some, as the oc- casional means of giving us an insight' into futurity, * Rush's Medical Iuquiries. t These facts do not controvert what is elsewhere stated of a person never being aware, during the actual process of a dream, that he was dreaming. While the above dreams were in pro- gress, the individuals never doubted that they were dreaming: the doubt, and the actions consequent upon it, were after-ope- rations. This opinion is so singularly unphilosophical, that I would not have noticed it, were it not advocated even by persons of good sense and education. In ancient times, it was so common as to obtain universal belief ; and the greatest men placed as implicit faith in it as in any fact of which their own senses afforded them cog- nizance. That it is wholly erroneous, however, can- not be doubted ; and any person who examines the na- ture of the human mind, and the manner in which it operates in dreams, must be convinced, that under no circumstances, except those of a miracle, in which the ordinary laws of nature are triumphed over, can such an event ever take place. The sacred writings tes- tifiy that miracles were common in former times ; but I believe no man of sane mind will contend that they ever occur in the present state of the world. In judg- ing of things as now constituted, we must discard su- pernatural influence altogether, and estimate events according to the general laws which the great ruler of nature has appointed for the guidance of the universe. If, in the present day, it were possible to conceive a suspension of these laws, it must, as in former ages, be in reference to some great event, and to serve some mighty purpose connected with the general interests of the human race ; but if faith is to be placed in modern miracles, we must suppose that God suspended the above laws for the most trivial and useless of purpose s —as, for instance, to intimate to a man that his grandmother will die on a particular day, that a fa- vourite mare has broke her neck, that he has received a present of a brace of game, or that a certain friend will step in and take pot-luck with him on the morrow. At the same time, there can be no doubt that many circumstances occurring in our dreams have been actu- ally verified ; but this must be regarded as altogether the effect of chance ; and for one dream which turns out to be true, at least a thousand are false. In fact, it is only when they are of the former description, that we take any notice of them ; the latter are looked upon as mere idle vagaries, and speedily forgotten. If a man, for instance, dreams that he has gained a law-suit in which he is engaged, and if this circumstance actu- ally takes place, there is nothing at all extraordinary in the coincidence : his mind was full of the subject, and, in sleep, naturally resolved itself into that train of ideas in which it was most deeply interested. Or if we have a friend engaged in war, our fears for his safety will lead us to dream of death or captivity, and we may see him pent up in a hostile prison-house, or lying dead upon the battle plain. And should these melancholy cata'strophies ensue we call our vision to memory; and, in the excited state of mind into which we are thrown, are apt to consider it as a prophetic warning, indicative of disaster. The following is a very good illustration of this particular point. Miss M----, a young lady, a native of Ross-shire, was deeply in love with an officer who accompanied Sir John Moore in the peninsular war. The constant danger to which he was exposed, had an evident effect upon her spirits. She became pale and melancholy in perpetually brooding over his fortunes ; and, in spite of all that reason could do, felt a certain conviction, that when she last parted with her lover, she had parted with him for ever. In vain was every scheme tried to dis- pel from her mind the awful idea ; in vain were all the sights which opulence could command, unfolded before her eyes. In the midst of pomp and gaiety, when mu- sic and laughter echoed around her, she walked as a pensive phantom, over whose head some dreadful and mysterious influence hung. She was brought by her affectionate parents to Edinburgh, and introduced into all the gaiety of that metropolis, but nothing could re- store her, or banish from her mind the insupportable load which oppressed it. The song and the dance were tried in vain : they only aggravated her distress PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 21 and made the bitterness of despair more poignant. In a surprisingly short period, her graceful form declined into all the appalling characteristics of a fatal illness ; and she seemed rapidly hastening to the grave, when a dream confirmed the horrors she had long anticipated, and gave the finishing stroke to ner sorrows. One night, after falling asleep, she imagined she saw her lover, pale, bloody, and wounded in the breast, enter her apartment. He drew aside the curtains of the bed, and with a look of the utmost mildness, informed her that he had been slain in battle, desiring her, at the S same time, to comfort herself* and not take his death too seriously to heart. It is needless to say what influence this vision had upon a mind so replete with woe. It withered it entirely, and the unfortunate girl died a few days thereafter, but not without desiring her parents to note down the day of the month on which it happened, and see if it would be confirmed, as she confidently de- clared it would. Her anticipation was correct, for ac- counts were shortly after received that the young man was slain at the battle of Corunna, which was fought on the very day, on the night of which his mistress had beheld the vision. This relation,' which may be confidently relied upon, is one of the most striking examples of identity between the dream and the real circumstances with which I am acquainted, but it must be looked upon as merely acci- dental. The lady's mind was deeply interested in the fate of her lover, and full of that event which she most deeply dreaded—his death. The time of this occur- rence, as coinciding with her dream, is certainly curi- ous ; but still there is nothing in it which can justify us in referring it to any other origin than chance. The following events, which occurred to myself, in August 1821, are almost equally remarkable, and are imputable to the same fortuitous cause. I was then in Caithness, when I dreamed that a near relation of my own, residing three hundred miles off, had suddenly died: and immediately thereafter awoke in a state of inconceivable terror, similar to that pro- duced by a paroxysm of nightmare. The same day, happening to be writing home, I mentioned the circum- stance in a half-jesting, half-earnest way. To tell the truth, I was afraid to be serious, lest I should be laughed at for putting any faith in dreams. However, in the interval between writing and receiving an answer, I re- mained in a state of most unpleasant suspense. I felt a presentiment that something dreadful had happened, or would happen ; and although I could not help blaming myself for a childish weakness in so feeling, I was unable to get rid of the painful idea which had taken such rooted possession of my mind. Three days after sending away the letter, what was my astonish- ment when I received one written the day subsequent to mine, and stating that the relative of whom I had dreamed, had been struck with a fatal shock of palsy the day before—viz. the very day on the morning of which I had beheld the appearance in my dream ! My friends received my letter two days after sending their own away, and were naturally astonished at the cir- cumstance. I may state that my relation was in per- fect health before the fatal event took place. It came upon him like a thunderbolt, at a period when no one could have the slightest anticipation of danger. The following case will interest the reader, both on its own account, and from the remarkable coincidence between the dream and the succeeding calamity ; but, like all other instances of the kind, this also must be referred to chance. ' Being in company the other day, when the conver- sation turned upon dreams, I related one, which as it happened to my own father, I can answer for the per- fect truth of it. About the year 1731, my father, Mr J3 0f j£----, in the County of Cumberland, came to Edinburgh to attend the classes, having the advantage of an uncle in the regiment then in the Castle, and re- mained under the protection of his uncle and aunt, Major and Mrs Griffiths, during the winter. When spring ar- rived, Mr D. and three or four young gentlemen from England, (his intimates,) made parties to visit all the neighboring places about Edinburgh, Roslin, Arthur's Seat, Craig-Millar, &c, &c. Coming home one evening from some of those places, Mr D. said, 'We have made a party to go a-fishing to Inch-Keith to- morrow, if the morning is fine, and have bespoke our boat; we shall be off at six ;' no objection being made, they separated for the night. 'Mrs Griffiths, had not been long asleep, till she screamed out in the most violent agitated manner, ' The boat is sinking; save, oh, save them Vm The Major awaked her, and said, ' Were you uneasy about the fishing party V 'Oh no,' said she, ' I had not once thought of it.' She then composed herself, and soon fell asleep again; in about an hour, she cried out in a dreadful fright, ' I see the boat is going down.' The Major again awoke her, and she said, ' It has been owing to the other dream I had ; for I feel no uneasi- ness about it.' After some conversation, they both fell sound asleep, but no rest could be obtained for her; in the most extreme agony, she again screamed, 'They are gone; the boat is sunk!' When the Major awakened her, she said, ' Now I cannot rest; Mr D. must not go, for I feel, should he go, I would be miserable till his return ; the thoughts of it would al- most kill me.' ' She instantly arose, threw on her wrapping-gown, went to his bedside, for his room* was next their own, and with great difficulty she got his promise to remain at home. ' But what am I to say to my young friends whom I was to meet at Leith at six o'clock1!' ' With great truth you may say your aunt is ill, for I am so at present; consider, you are an only son, under our protection, and should any thing happen to you, it would be my death.' Mr D. immediately wrote a note to his friends, saying he was prevented from joining them, and sent his servant with it to Leith. The morning came in most beautifully, and continued so till three o'clock, when a violent storm arose, and in an instant the boat, and all that were in it, went to the bottom, and were never heard of, nor was any part of it ever seen.'* Equally singular is the following case, from the 'Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe.' ' My mother being sick to death of a fever, three months after I was born, which was the occasion she gave me suck no longer, her friends and servants thought to all outward appearnce she was dead, and so lay almost two days and a nign\ ; but Dr Winston coming to comfort my father, went into my mother's room, and looking earnestly on her face, said, ' She was so handsome, and now looks so lovely, I cannot think she is dead ;' and suddenly took a lancet out of his pocket, and with it cut the sole of her foot, which bled. Upon this, he immediately caused her to be laid upon the bed again, and -to be rubbed, and such means, as she came to life, and opening her eyes, saw two of her kinswomen stand by her, my Lady Knollys and my Lady Russell, both with great wide sleeves, as the fashion then was, and said, ' Did not you promise me fifteen years, and are you come again' which they not understanding, persuaded her to keep her spirits quiet in that great weakness wherein she then was; but some hours after, she desired my father and Dr Howls- worth might be left alone with her, to whom she said, ' I will acquaint you, that during the time of my trance I wag in great quiet, but in a place I could neither distinguish nor describe; but the sense of leaving my girl, who is dearer to me than all my children, remained a trouble upon my spirits. Suddenly I saw two by me, clothed in long white garments, and methought I fell down upon my face upon the dust; and they asked * ' Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine,' vol. six. p. 73. 22 PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP, why I was so troubled in so great happiness. I re- plied, 0 let me have the same grant given to Hezekiah, that I may live fifteen years to see my daughter a woman : to which they answered, It is done: and then, at that instant, I awoke out of my trance !' and Dr Howlsworth did there affirm, that that day she died made just fifteen years from that time.' A sufficiently striking instance of such coincidence occurs in the case of Dr Donne, the metaphysical poet; but I believe that, in this case, it was a spectral illusion rather than a common dream. Two days after he had arrived in Paris, he was left alone in a room where he had been dining with Sir Robert Drury and a few companions. ' Sir Robert returned about an hour afterwards. He found his friend in a state of ecstacy, and so altered in his countenance, that he could not look upon him without amazement. The Doctor was not able for some time to answer the ques- tion, what had befallen him ?—but a long and perplexed pause, at last said, ' I have seen a dreadful vision since I saw you ; I have seen my dear wife pass twice by me through this room, with her hair hanging about her shoulders, and a dead child in her arms. This I have seen since I saw you.' To which Sir Robert answered, ' Sure, Sir, you have slept since I went out; and this is the result of some melancholy dream, which I desire you to forget, for you are now awake.' Donne replied, ' I cannot be more sure that I now live, than that I have not slept since I saw you ; and am as sure that at her second appearing she stopped, looked me in in the face and vanished.' '* It is certainly very curious that Mrs Donne, who was then in England, was at this time sick in bed, and had been delivered of a dead child, on the same day, and about the same hour, that the vision occurred. There were distressing circumstances in the marriage of Dr Donne which ac- count for his mind being strongly impressed with the image of his wife, to whom he was exceedingly at- tached ; but these do not render the coincidence above related less remarkable. I do not doubt that the apparition of Julius Ca?sar, which appeared to Brutus, and declared it would meet him at Philippi, was either a dream or a spectral illu- sion—probably the latter. Brutus, in all .likelihood, had some idea that the battle which was to decide his fate would be fought at Philippi: probably it was a good military position, which he had fixed upon as a fit place to make a final stand ; and he had done enough to Caasar to account for his own mind being painfully and constantly engrossed with the image Of the assasin- ated Dictator. Hence the verification of this supposed warning—hence the easy explanation of a supposed supernatural event. At Newark-upon-Trent, a curious custom, founded upon the preservation of Alderman Clay and his family by a dream, has prevailed since the days of Cromwell. On the 11th March, every year, penny loaves are given away to any one who chooses to appear at the town hall and apply for them, in commemoration of the al- derman's deliverance, during the siege of Newark by the parliamentary forces. This gentleman, by will, dated 11th December, 1694, gave to the mayor and al- dermen one hundred pounds, the interest of which was to be given to the vicar yearly, on condition of his preaching an annual sermon. Another hundred pounds were also appropriated for the behoof of the poor, in the way above mentioned. The origin of this bequest is singular. During the bombardment of Newark by Oli- ver Cromwell's forces, the alderman dreamed three nights successively that his house had taken fire, which produced such a vivid impression upon his mind, that he and his family left it; and in a few days the cir- cumstances of his vision actually took place, by the house being burned down by the besiegers. Dr Abercrombie relates the case of a gentleman in * Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions, p. 354. Edinburgh, who was affected with an aneurism of the popliteal artery, for which he was under the care of two eminent surgeons. About two days before the time appointed for the operation, his wife dreamed that a change had taken place in the disease, in consequence of which an operation would not be required. ' On examining the tumor in the morning, the gentleman was astonished to find that the pulsation had entirely ceased ; and, in short, this turned out to be a spontane- ous cure. To persons not professional, it may be right to mention that the cure of popliteal aneurism, without an operation, is a very uncommon occurrence, not hap- pening, perhaps, in one out of numerous instances, and never to be looked upon as probable in any individual case. It is likely, however, that the lady had heard of the possibility of such a termination, and that her anx-. iety had very naturally embodied this into a dream: the fulfilment of it, at the very time when the event took place, is certainly a very remarkable coincidence.'* Persons are said to have had the period of their own death pointed out to them in dreams. I have often heard the case of the late Mr M. of D----related in support of this statement. It is certainly worth telling, not on account of any supernatural character belonging to it, but simply from the extraordinary coincidence between the dream and the subsequent event. This gentleman dreamed one night that he was out riding, when he stopped at an inn on the road side for refresh- ment, where he saw several people whom he had known some years before, but who were all dead. He was received kindly by them, and desired to sit down and drink, which he accordingly did. On quitting this strange company, they exacted a promise from him that he would visit them that day six weeks. This he promised faithfully to do ; and, bidding them farewell, he rode homewards. Such was the substance of his dream, which he related in a jocular way to his friends, but thought no more about it, for he, was a person above all kind of superstition. The event, however, was cer- tainly curious enough, as well as melancholy; for on that very day six weeks on which he had engaged to meet his friends at the inn, he was killed in attempting to spring his horse over a five-barred gate. The famous case of Lord Lyttletont is also cited as an example of a similar kind, but with less show of reason, for this case is now very generally supposed to be an imposi- tion ; and so will almost every other of the same kind, if narrowly investigated. At the same time, I do not mean to doubt that such an event, foretold in a dream, may occasionally come to pass; but I would refer the whole to fortuitous coincidence. Men dream, every now and then, that they will die on a certain day, yet how seldom do we see those predictions fulfiled by the result ! In very delicate people, indeed, such a vision- ary communication, by acting fatally upon the mind, might De the means of occasioning its own fulfilment. In such cases, it has been customary for the friends of Jhe individual to put back the clock an hour or two, so as to let the fatal period pass by without his being aware of it; and as soon as it was fairly passed, to inform him of the circumstance, and laugh him out of his ap- prehension. There is another way in which the apparent fulfil- ment of a dream may be brought about. A good illus- tration in point is given by Mr Combe. The subject of it was one Scott, executed in 1823, at Jedburg, for murder. ' It is stated in his life, that some years be- * Abercrombie's Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Pow- ers, p. 282, 1st edit. t ' Of late ic has been said and published, that the unfortu- nate nobleman had previously determined to take poison, and of course had it in his own power to ascertain the execution of the prediction. It was, no doubt, singular that a man, who medi- tated his exit from the world, should have chosen to play such a trick upon his friends. But it is still more credible that a whimsi- cal man should do so wild a thing, than that a messenger should be sent from the dead, to tell a libertine at what precise hour he should expire.'— ScotVs Letters on Demonology, p. 361. PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 23 fore the fatal event,- he had dreamed that he had com- mitted a murder, and was greatly impressed, with the idea. He frequently spoke of it, and recurred to it as something ominous, till at last it was realized. The organ of Destructiveness was large in the head, and so active that he was an enthusiast in poaching, and prone to outrage and violence in his habitual conduct. This activity of the organ might take place during sleep, and then it would inspire his mind with destructive feelings, and the dream of murder would be the consequence. From the great natural strength of the propensity, he probably may have felt, when awake, an inward ten- dency to this crime ; and, joining this and the dream together, we can easily account for the strong impres- sion left by the latter on the mind.' * One method in which death may appear to be foretold is, jby the accession of frightful visions immediately be- fore the fatal illnesses. This, however, goes for nothing in the way of argument, for it was the state of the sys- tem shortly before the attack of disease which induced such dreams. According to Silamachus, the epidemic fever which prevailed at Rome was ushered in by at- tacks of nightmare r and Sylvius Deleboe, who de- scribes the epidemic which raged at Leyden in 1669, states, that previous to each paroxysm of the fever, the patient fell asleep, and suffered a severe attack of night- mare. The vulgar belief, therefore, that unpleasant dreams are ominous of death, is not destitute of founda- tion ; but the cause why they should be so is perfectly natural. It is the incipitent disease which produces the dreams, and the fatal event which often follows, is a natural consequence of that disease. It is undoubtedly owing to the faculty possessed by sleep, of renewing long-forgotten ideas, that persons have had importaut facts communicated to them in dreams. There have been' instances, for example, where valuable documents, sums of money, &c, have been concealed, and where either the person who se- creted them or he who had the place of their conceal- ment communicated to him, may have forgotten every thing therewith connected. He may then torture his mind in vain, during the walking state, to recollect the event; and it may be brought to his remembrance, at once, in a dream, in such cases, an apparition is gen- erally the medium through which the seemingly myste- rious knowledge is communicated. The imagination conjures up some phantom that discloses the secret; which circumstance, proceeding, in reality, from a sim- ple operation of the mind, is straightway converted in- to something supernatural, and invested with all the attributes of wonder and awe. When such spectral forms appear, and communicate some fact which turns out to be founded on truth, the person is not always aware that the whole occurred in a dream, but often fancies that he was broad awake when the apparition, appeared to him and communicated the particular intel- ligence. When we hear, therefore, of hidden treasures, wills, &c, being disclosed in such a manner, we are not always to scout the report as false. The spectre divulging the intelligence was certainly the mere chim- era of the dreamer's brain, but the facts revealed, ap- parently by this phantom, may, from the above circum- stance, be substantially true. The following curious case is strikingly in point, and is given by Sir Walter Scott in his notes to the new edition of ' The Anti- quary' 'Mr R----d of Bowland, a gentleman of landed property in the Va!le of Gala, was prosecuted for a very considerable sum, the accumulated arrears of tiend, (or tithe,) for which he was said to be indebted to a noble family, the titulars (lay impropriators of the tithes.) Mr R——d was strongly impressed with the belief that his father had, by a form of process peculiar to the law of Scotland, purchased these lands from the titular, and, therefore, that the present prosecution was groundless. * Combe's System of Phrenology, p. 5U, 3d edit. | But after an industrious search among his father's pa- pers, an investigation of the public records, and a care- ful inquiry among all persons who had transacted law business for his father, no evidence could be recovered to support his defence. The period was now near at hand when he conceived the loss of his lawsuit to be inevitable, and he had formed the determination to ride to Edinburgh next day, and make the best bargain he could ..x the way of compromise. He went to bed with this resolution, and, with all the circumstances of the case floating upon his mind, had a dream to the follow- ing purpose. His father, who had been many years dead, appeared to him, he thought, and asked him why he was disturbed in his mind. In dreams, men are not surprised at such apparitions. Mr R----d thought that he informed his father of the cause of his distress, adding, that the payment of a considerable sum of mo- ney was the more unpleasant to him, because he had a strong consciousness that it was not due, though he was unable to recover any evidence in support of his belief. ' You are right, my son,' replied the paternal shade; ' I did acquire right to these tiends, for pay- ment of which you are now prosecuted. The papers relating to the transaction are now in the hands of Mr -----, a writer, (or attorney,) who is now retired from professional business, and resides at Inveresk, near Edinburgh. He was a person whom I employed on that occasion for a particular reason, but who never on any other occasion transacted business on my account. It is very possible,' pursued the vision, ' that Mr----■ may have forgotten a matter which is now of a very old date ; -but you may call it to his recollection by this token, that when I came to pay his account, there was difficulty in getting change for a Portugal piece of gold, and we were forced to drink out the balance at a tavern.' ' Mr R----d awoke in the morning with all the words of the vision imprinted on his mind, and thought it worth while to walk across the country to Inveresk, in- stead of going straight to Edinburgh. When he came there, he waited on the gentleman mentioned in .the dream, a very old man. Without saying anything of the vision, he inquired whether he remembered having conducted such a matter for his diseased father. The old gentleman could not at first bring the circumstance to his recollection, but on mention of the Portugal piece of gold, the whole returned upon his memory ; he made an immediate search for the papers, and recovered them—so that Mr R----d carried to Edinburgh the documents necessary to gain the cause which he was on the verge of losing. ' The author has often heard this story told by per- sons who had the best access to know the facts, who were not likely themselves to be deceived, and were certainly incapable of deception. He cannot, there- fore, refuse to give it credit, however extraordinary the circumstances may appear. The circumstantial cha- racter of the information given in the dream, takes it out of the general class of impressions of the kind, which are occasioned by the fortuitous coincidence ef actual events with our sleeping thoughts. On the oth- er hand, few will suppose that the laws of nature were suspended, and a special communication from the dead to the living permitted, for the purpose of saving Mr. R----d a certain number of hundred pounds. The author's theory is, that the dream was only the recapitu- lation of information which Mr R----d had really re- ceived from his father while in life, but which at first he merely recalled as a general impression that the claim was settled. It is not uncommon for persons to recover, during sleep, the thread of ideas which they have lost during their waking hours. It may be added; that this remarkable circumstance was attended with bad consequences to Mr R----d ; whose health and spirits were afterwards impaired, by the attention which he thought himself obliged to pay to the visions of the 24 PHILOSOPHY OF SL±,±;f. night.' This result is a melancholy proof of the effect sometimes produced by ignorance of the natural laws. Had Mr R----d been acquainted with the nature of the brain, and of the manner in which it is affected in sleep, the circumstance above related would have given him no annoyance. He would have traced the whole chain of events to their true source ; but, being ignorant of this, he became the victim of superstition, and his life was rendered miserable. CHAPTER V. NIGHTMARE. Nightmare may.be defined' a painful dream, accom- panied with difficult respiratory action, and a torpor in the powers of volition. The reflecting organs are gen- erally more or less awake ; and, in this respect, night- mare differs from simple dreaming, where they are mostly quiescent. This affection, the Ephialtes of the Greeks, and Incubus of the Romans, is one of the most distressing to which human nature is subject. Imagination cannot conceive the horrors it frequently gives rise to, or lan- guage describe them in adequate terms. They are a thousand times more frightful than the visions conjured up by necromancy or diallere; and far transcend every thing in history or romance, from the fable of the writhing and asp-encircled Laocoon to Dante's appal- ling picture of Ugolino and his famished offspring, or the hidden tortures of the Spanish inquisition. The whole mind, during the paroxysm, is wrought up to a pitch of unutterable despair : a spell is laid upon the faculties, which freezes them into inaction ; and the wretched victim feels as if pent alive in his coffin, or overpowered by resistless and immitigable pressure. The modifications which nightmare assumes are in- finite ; but one passion is almost never absent—that of utter and incomprehensible dread. Sometimes the suf- ferer is buried beneath overwhelming rocks, which crush him on all sides, but still leave him with a miser- able consciousness of his situation. Sometimes he is involved in the coils of a horrid, slimy monster, whose eyes have the phosphorescent glare of the sepulchre, and whose breath is poisonous as the marsh of Lerna. Every thing horrible, disgusting, or terriffic in the phy- sical or moral world, is brought before him in fearful array; he is hissed at by serpents, tortured by demons, stunned by the hollow voices and cold touch of appari- tions. A mighty stone is laid upon his breast, and erushes him to the ground in helpless agony; mad bulls and tigers pursue his palsied footsteps : the un- earthly shrieks and gibberish of hags, witches, and fiends float around him. In whatever situation he may be placed, he feels superlatively wretched ; he is Ixion working for ages at his wheel: he is Sisyphus rolling his eternal stone : he is stretched upon the iron bed of Procrustes: he is prostrated by inevitable destiny be- neath the approaching wheels of the car of Juggernaut. At one moment, he may have the consciousness of a malignant demon being at his side : then to shun the sight of so appalling an object, he will close his eyes, but still the fearful being makes its presence known; for its icy breath is felt diffusing itself over his visao-e, and he knows that he is face to face with a fiend. Then, if he look up, he beholds horrid eyes glaring upon him, and an aspect of hell grinning at him with even more than hellish malice. Or, he may have* the idea of a monstrous hag squatted upon his breast—mute, motion- less, and malignant; an incarnation of the evil spirit— whose intolerable weight crushes the breath out of his body, and whose fixed, deadly, incessant stare petrifies him with horror and makes his very existence insuffer- able. In every instance, there is a sense of oppression and helplessness ; and the extent to which these are carried, varies according to the violence of the paroxysm. The individual never feels himself a free agent; on the contrary he is spell-bound by some enchantment, and remains an unresisting victim for malice to work its will upon. He can neither breathe, nor walk, nor run, with his wonted facility. If pursued by an immi- nent danger, he can hardly drag one limb after another; if engaged in combat, his blows are utterly ineffective; if involved in the fangs of any animal, or in the grasp of an enemy, extrication is impossible. He struggles, he pants, he toils, but it is all in vain: his muscles are rebels to the will, and refuse to obey its calls. In no case is there a sense of complete freedom: the be- numbing stupor never departs from him ; and his whole being is locked up in one mighty spasm. Sometimes he is forcing himself through an aperture too small for the reception of his body, and is there arrested and tor- tured by the pangs of suffocation produced by the pres- sure to which he is exposed ; or he loses his way in a narrow labyrinth, and gets involved in its contracted and inextricable mazes; or he is entombed alive in a se- pulchre, beside the mouldering dead. There is, in most cases, an intense reality in all that he sees, or hears, or feels. The aspects of the hidedus phantoms which harass his imagination are bold and defined ; the sounds which greet his ear appalling distinct; and when any dimness or confusion of imagery does pre vail, it is of the most fearful kind, leaving nothing but dreary and miserable impressions behind it. Much of the horror experienced in nightmare will depend upon the natural activity of the imagination, upon the condition of the body, and upon the state of mental exertion before going to sleep. If, for instance, we have been engaged in the perusal of such works as ' The Monk,' ' The Mysteries of Udolpho,' or ' Satan's Invisible World' Discovered ;' and if an attack of nightmare should supervene, it will be aggravated into sevenfold horror by the spectral phantoms with which our minds have been thereby fillled. We will enter into all the. fearful mysteries of these writings, which, instead of being mitigated by slumber, acquire an in- tensity which they never could have possessed in the waking state. The apparitions of murdered victims, like the form of Banquo, which wrung the guilty con- science of Macbeth, will stalk before us ; we are sur- rounded by sheeted ghosts, which glare upon us with their cold sepulchral eyes; our habitation is among the vaults of ancient cathedrals, or among the dungeons of ruined monasteries, and our companions are the dead. At other times, an association of ludicrous imaces passes through the mind : every thing becomes incon- gruous, ridiculous, and absurd. But even in the midst of such preposterous fancies, the passion of mirth is never for one moment excited : the same blank despair, the same freezing inertia, the same stifling tortures, still harass us; and so far from being amused by the laughable drama enacted before us, we behold it with sensations of undefined horror and disgust. In general, during an attack, the person has the con- sciousness of an utter inability to express his horror by cries. He feels that his voice is half choked by im- pending suffocation, and that any exertion of it farther than a deep sigh or groan, is impossible. Sometimes however, he conceives that he is bellowing with pro- digious energy, and wonders that the household are not alarmed by his noise. But this is an illusion : those outcries which he fancies himself uttering, are merely obscure moans forced with difficulty and pain from the stifled penetralia of his bosom. Nightmare takes place under various circumstances Sometimes, from a state of perfect sleep, we glide into it, and feel ourselves unconsciously overtaken by its attendant horrors : at other times, we experience it stealing upon us like a thief, at a period when we are PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 25 all but awake, and aware of its approach. We have then our senses about us, only, perhaps a little dead- ened and confused by incipient slumber ; and we feel the gradual advance of the fiend, without arousing our- selves, and scaring him away, althongh we appear to possess the full ability of doing so. Some persons, im- mediately previous to an attack, have sensations of ver- tigo and ringing in the ears. At one time, nightmare melts into unbroken sleep or pleasing dreams ; and when we awake in the morn- ing with merely the remembrance of having had one of its attacks ; at another, it arouses us by its violence, and we start out of it with a convulsive shudder. At the moment of throwing off the fit, we seem to turn round upon the side with a mighty effort, as if from beneath the pressure of a superincumbent weight ; and, the more thoroughly to awake ourselves, we generally kick violently, beat the breast, rise up in bed, and cry out once or twice. As soon as we are able to exercise the voice or voluntary muscles with freedom, the pa- roxysm is at an end ; but "for some time after, we ex- perience extreme terror, and often cold shivering, while the heart throbs violently, and the respiration is hur- ried These two latter circumstances are doubted by Dr Darwin, but I am convinced of their existence, both from what I have experienced in my own per- son, and from what I have been told by others : in- deed, analogy would irresistibly lead us to conclude that they must exist ; and whoever carefully in- vestigates the subject, will find that they do almost universally. An opinion prevails, that during incubus fche person is always upon his back ; and the circumstances of his usually feeling as if in that posture, together with the relief which he experiences on turning round upon his side, are certainly strong presumptions in favour of its accuracy. The sensations, however, which occur, in this state, are fallacious in the highest degree. We have seldom any evidence either that he was on his back, or that he turned round at all. The fact, that he supposed himself in the above position during the fit, and the other fact, that, on recovering from it, he was lying on his side, may have produced the illusion ; and, where he never moved a single muscle, he may con- ceive that he turned round after a prodigious effort. I have had an attack of this disorder while sitting in an arm-chair, or with my head leaning against a table. In fact, these are the most likely positions to bring it on, the lungs being then more completely compressed than in almost any other posture. I have also had it most distinctly while lying on the side, and I know many cases of a similar description in others. Al- though, therefore, nightmare may take place more frequently upon the back than upon the side, the opinion that it occurs only in the former of these pos- tures, is altogether incorrect ; and where we are much addicted to its attacks, no posture whatever will pro- tect us. Persons not particulary subject to incubus, feel no inconvenience, save temporary terror or fatigue, from any occasional attack which they may have ; but those with whom it is habitual, are apt to experience a cer- tain degree of giddiness, ringing in the ears, tension of the forehead, flashing of light before the eyes, and other symptoms of cerebral congestion. A bad taste in the mouth, and more or less fulness about the pit of the stomach, are sometimes experienced after an attack. The illusions which occur, are perhaps the most ex- traordinary phenomena of nightmare ; and so strongly are they often impressed upon the mind, that, even on awaking, we find it impossible not to believe them real. We may, for example, be sensible of knockings at the door of our apartment, hear familiar voices calling upon us, and see individuals passing through the chamber. In maDV cases, no arguments, no efforts of the under- standing will convince us that these are merely the chimeras of sleep. We regard them as events of ac- tual occurrence, and will not be persuaded to the contrary. With some, such a belief has gone down to the grave : and others have maintained it strenuously for years, till a recurrence of the illusions under circum- stances which rendered their real existence impossible, has shown them that the whole was a dream. Many a good ghost story has had its source in the illusions of nightmare. The following case related by Mr Waller gives a good idea of the strength of such illusive feelings. ' In the month of February, 1814, I was living in the same house with a young gentlemen, the son of a peer of the United Kingdom, who was at that time under my care, in a very alarming state of health ; and who had been, for several days, in a state of violent delirium. The close attention which his case required from me, together with a degree of personal attachment to him, had rendered me extremely anxious about him ; and as my usual hours of sleep suffered a great degree of in- terruption from the attendance given to him, I was from that cause alone, rendered more than usually liable to the attacks of nightmare, which consequently intruded itself every night upon my slumbers. The young gen- tleman in question, from the violence of his delirium, was with great difficulty kept in bed ; and had one or twice eluded the vigilance of his attendants, and jump- ed out of bed, an accident of which I was every moment dreading a repetition. I awoke from one sleep one morning about four o'clock—at least it apppeared to me that I awoke—and heard distinctly the voice of this young gentleman, who seemed to be coming hastily up the stairs leading to my apartment, calling me by name in the manner he was accustomed tfo do in his delirium ; and, immediately after, I saw him standing by my bed- side, holding the curtains open, expressing all that wild- ness in his looks which accompanies a violent delirium At *he same moment, I heard the voices of his two at- tendants coming up the stairs in search of him, who likewise came into the room and took him away. During all this scene I was attempting to speak, but could not articulate ; I thought, however, that I succeeded in attempting to get out of bed, and assisting his atendants in removing him out of the room ; after which, I re- turned to bed, and instantly fell asleep. When I wait- ed upon my patient in the morning, I was not a little surprised to find that he was asleep ; and was uttterly confounded on being told that he had been so all night; and as this was the first sleep he had enjoyed for three or four days, the attendants were very minute in de- tailing the whole particulars of it. Athough this ac- count appeared inconsistent with what I conceived I had seen, and with what I concluded they knew as well as myself, I did not, for some time, perceive the error into which I had been led, till I observed that some of my questions and remarks were not intelligi- ble ; then I began to suspect the true source of the error, which I should never have discovered had not experience rendered these hallucinations familiar to me. But the whole of this transaction had so much consist- ency and probability in it, that I might, under different circumstances, have remained forever ignorant of having been imposed upon in this instance, by my senses.'* During nightmare, the deepness of the slumber va- ries much at different times. Sometimes we are in a state closely approximating upon perfect sleep ; at other times we are almost completely awake ; and it will be remarked, that the more awake we are, the greater i9 the violence of the paroxysm. I have experienced the affection stealing upon me while in perfect possession of my faculties, and have undergone the greatest tor. tures, being haunted by spectres, hags, and every sort of phantom—having, at the same time, a full consciou^ ♦ Wallerls Treatise. 26 PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. ness that I was labouring under incubus, and that all the terrifying objects around me were the creations of my own brain. This shows that the judgment is often only very partially affected, and proves also that night- mare is not merely a disagreeable dream, but a painful bodily affection. Were it nothing more than the for- mer, we could rarely possess a knowledge of our con- dition ; for, in simple visions, the reflecting organs are almost uniformly quiescent, and we scarcely ever, for a moment, doubt the reality of our impressions. In night- mare, this is often, perhaps generally, the case; but we frequently meet with instances, in which, during the worst periods of the fit, consciousness remains al- most unimpaired. There are great differences in the duration of the paroxysm, and also in the facility with which it is broken. I know not of any method by which the period to which it extends can be estimated, for the sufferer has no data to go by, and time, as in all modifications of dreaming, is subjected to the most capricious laws—an actual minute often appearing to embrace a whole hour. Of this point, therefore, we must be contented to remain in ignorance ; but it may be conceived that the attack will be as various in its duration, as in the characters which it assumes—in one case being ten times as long as in another. With regard to the breaking of the fit, the differences are equally great. At one time, the slightest agitation of the body, the opening of the cham- ber door, or calling softly to the sufferer, will arouse him; at another, he requires to be shaken violently, and called upon long and loudly, before he is released. Some people are much more prone to incubus than others. Those whose digestion is healthy, whose minds are at ease, and who go supperless to bed, will seldom be troubled with it. Those, again, who keep late hours, study hard, eat heavy suppers, and are sub- ject to bile, acid, or hypochondria, are almost sure to be more or less its victims. There are particular kinds of food, which pretty constantly lead to the same result, such as cheese, cucumbers, almonds, and what- ever is hard to be digested. Hildesheim, in his ' De Affectibus Capitis,' justly remarks, that' he who wishes to know what nightmare is, let him eat chestnuts be- fore going to sleep, and drink feculent wine after them.' Certain diseases, also, are apt to induce it, such as asthma, hydrot.horax, agina pectoris, and other varie- ties of dyspnoea. Men are more subject to it than wo- men, probably, from their stomachs being more fre- quently disordered by intemperance, and their minds more closely occupied. Sailors, owing to the hard and indigestible nature of their food, are very frequently its victims ; and it is a general remark that it oftener oc- curs at sea than on shore. It seems probable that much of the superstitious belief of these men, in appari- tions, proceeds from the phantoms which nightmare calls into existence. Unmarried women are more annoyed by it than those who are married ; and the latter, when pregnant, have it oftener than at other times. Persons who were extremely subject to the complaint in their youth, sometimes get rid of it when they reach the age of puberty, owing, probably, to some change in the con- stitution which occurs at this period. There have been different opinions with regard to the proximate cause of incubus, and authors have gen- erally looked upon it as involved in considerable obscu- rity. An impeded circulation of blood in the pulmo- nary arteries, compression of the diaphragm by a full stomach, and torpor of the intercostal muscles, are all mentioned as contributing wholly, or partially, to the event. I am of opinion that ejther of these states may cause nightmare, but that, in most cases, they are all combined. Any thing, in fact, which impedes respira- tion, may give rise to the disorder, whether it be asthma, hydrothorax, distended stomach, muscular torpor, or external compression. The causes, then, are various, but it will be found that, whatever they may be, then ultimate operation is upon the lungs. We have already seen that, in ordinary sleep, par ticular states of the body are apt to induce visions : it is, therefore easily conceivable that a sense of suffoca- tion, such as occurs in nightmare, may give birth to all the horrid phantoms seen in that distemper. The phy- sical sufferings in such a case, exalts the imagination to its utmost pitch : fills it with spectres and chimeras ; and plants an immovable weight or malignant fiend up- on the bosom to crush us into agony. Let us see how such physical sufferings is brought about. Any disordered state of the stomach may produce it. This organ may be so distended with food or wind as to press upon the diaphragm, lessen the dimensions of the chest, obstruct the movements of the heart, and thereby impede respiration. Circumstances like these alone are sufficient to produce nightmare; and the cause from the first is purely mechanical. Secondly. The state of the stomach may call forth incubus by means circuitous or indirect. In this case, the viscus is unequal to the task imposed upon it of di- gesting the food, either from an unusual quantity being thrown upon it, from the food being of an indigestible nature, or from actual weakness. Here the sensorial power latent in this organ, is insufficient to carry it through with its operations, and it is obliged to draw upon the rest of the body—upon the brain, the respira- tory muscles, &c, for the supply of which it is deficient. The muscles of respiration, in giving their portion, re- duce themselves to a state of temporary debility, and do not retain a sufficient share to execute their own ac- tions with due vigour. The pectorels, the intercostals, and the diaphragm became thus paralyzed; and, the chest not being sufficiently dilated for perfect breathing, a feeling of suffocation inevitably insues. In like man- ner, the muscles of volition, rendered inert by the sub- traction of their quota of sensorial power, are unable to exercise their functions, and remain, during the par- oxysm, in a state of immovable torpor. This unequal distribution of nervous energy continues till, by pro- ducing some excessive uneasiness, it stimulates the will to a violent effort, and breaks the fit; and so soon as this takes place, the balance becomes redressed, and the sensorial equilibrium restored. Physical suffering of that kind which impedes breath- ing, may also be occasioned by many other causes— by pneuomonia, by empyema, by aneurism of the aorta, by laryngitis by croup, by external pressure ; and, ac- cordingly, either of these may give rise to nightmare. If we chance to lie down with a pillow or heavy cloak upon the breast, or to sleep with the body bent forward, and the head supported upon a table, as already men- tioned, we may be seized with it; and, in truth, what- ever, either directly or indirectly, acts upon the respira- tory muscles, and impedes their operation, is pretty sure to bri«g it on. Even a weak or disordered sto mach, in which there is no food, by attracting to itself a portion of their sensorial power to aid its own inade- quacies, may induce it. The disorder, therefore, takes place under various circumstances—-either by direct pressure upon the lungs, as in distended stomach, or hydrothorax ; or by partial torpor of the stomach or muscles of respiration, owing to a deficiency of nervous energy. These physical impediments coexisting with, or giving rise to a distempered state of the brain, suffi- ciently account for the horrors of nio-htmare. Why are hard students, deep thinkers, and hypo- chondriacs unusually subject to incubus 1 The cause is obvious. Such individuals have often a bad diges- tion : their stomachs are subject to acidity, and other functional derangements, and therefore, peculiarly apt to generate the complaint. The sedentary life, arid habits of intellectual or melancholy reflection in which they indulge, have a tendency not merely to disturb the digestive apparatus, but to act upon the whole cere- FHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 27 bral system: hence, they are far more liable to dreams of every kind than other people, in so far as their minds are more intently employed; and when, in sleep, they are pained by any physical endurance, the activity of their mental powers will naturally associate the most horrible ideas with such suffering, and produce incubus, and all its frightful accompaniments. Nightmare is sometimes attended with danger, when it becomes habitual. It may then give rise to apoplexy, and destroy life ; or, in very nervous subjects, may occasion epileptic and hysterical affections, which prove extremely harassing. According to Ccelius Aurelianus, many people die of this complaint. Probably some of those who are found dead in bed have lost their lives in a fit of incubus,/the circumstance being imputed to some other cause. Nightmare is thus, in some cases dangerous : Shd in all, when it becomes habitual, is such a source of misery, that sleep, instead of being courted as a period of blissful repose, is looked upon with horror, as the appointed season of inexpressible suffering and dread. It becomes, on this account, a matter of importance to contrive some method for preventing the attacks of so distressful a malady. The cause, what- ever it may be, must, if practicable, be removed, and the symptoms thence arising will naturally disappear. If the disorder proceed from heavy suppers, or indiges- tible food, these things ought to be given up, and the person should either go supperless to bed, or with such a light meal as will not hurt his digestion. Salted provisions of all kinds must be abandoned, nor should he taste any thing which will lie heavily upon the stomach, or run into fermentation. For this reason, nuts, cucumbers, cheese, ham, and fruits are all preju- dicial. If he be subject to heart-burn, flatulence, and other dyspeptic symptoms, he should make use of oc- casional doses of magnesia, or carbonate of potash or soda. I have known a tea-spoonful of either of the two latter, or three times that quantity of the former, taken before stepping into bed, prevent an attack, where, from the previous state of the stomach, I am convinced it would have taken place, had those medi- cines not been used. Great attention must be paid to the state of the bowels. For this purpose, the colo- cynth, the compound rhubarb, or the common aloetic pill, should be made use of, in doses of one, two, or three, according to circumstances, till the digestive or- gans are brought into proper play. The common blue pill, used with proper caution, is also an excellent medicine. In all cases, the patient should take abun- dant exercise, shun late hours, or too much study, and keep his mind in as cheerful a state as possible. The bed he lies on ought to be hard, and the pillow not very high. When the attacks are frequent, and extremely severe, Dr Darwin recommends that an alarm clock might be hung up in the room, so that the repose may be interrupted at short intervals. It is a good plan/ to have another person to sleep in the same bed, who might arouse him from the paroxysm ; and he should be directed to lie as little as possible upon the back. These points comprehend the principal treatment, and when persevered in, will rarely fail to mitigate or remove the disease. Sometimes, however, owing to certain peculiarities of constitution, it may be neces- sary to adopt a different plan, or combine other means along with the above : thus, Whyatt, who was subject to nightmare, could only insure himself against an at- tack, by taking a small glassful of brandy, just before going to bed; and some individuals find that a light supper prevents the fit, while it is sure to occur if no supper at all be taken. But these are rare exceptions to the general rule, and, when they do occur, must be treated in that manner which experience proves most effectual, without being bound too nicely by the ordi- nary modes of cure. Blood-letting, which some writers recommend, is useless oje hurtful, except in cases where there is reason to suppose that the affection is P brought on by plethora. With regard to the other causes of nightmare, such as asthma, hydrothorax, &c., these must be treated on general principles, and it, as one of their symptoms, will depart so soon as they are removed. Some persons recommend opium for the cure of nightmare, but this medicine I should think more likely to aggrave than relieve the complaint. The late Dr Polydori, author of ' The Vampyre,' and of an ' Es- say on Positive Pleasure,' was much subject to incubus, and in the habit of using opium for its removal. One morning he was found dead, and on the table beside him stood a glass, which had evidently contained laudanum and water. From this, it was supposed he had killed himself by his own treatment; but whether the quantity of laudanum taken by him would have de- stroyed life in ordinary circumstances, has never been ascertained. CHAPTER VI. I have strong doubts as to the propriety of consider- ing this affection in any way different from the incubus, or nightmare. It seems merely a modification of the latter, only accompanied by no aberration of the judg- ment. The person endures precisely many of the same feelings, such as difficult respiration, torpor of the voluntary muscles, deep sighing, extreme terror, and inability to speak. The orly difference which seem to exist between the two spates is, that in day- mare, the reason is always unclouded—whereas in in- cubus it is generally more or less disturbed. Dr Mason Good, in his ' Study of Mediciue,' takes notice of a case, recorded by Forestus, ' that returned periodically every third day, like an intermittent fever. The patient was a girl, nine years of age, and at these times was suddenly attacked with great terror, a con- striction of both the lower and upper belly, with ur- gent difficulty of breathing. Her eyes continued open, and were permanently continued to one spot; with her hands she forcibly grasped hold of things, that she might breathe the more easily. When spoken to, she returned no answer. In the meantime, the mind seem- ed to be collected ; she was without sleep ; sighed re- peatedly ; the abdomen was elevated, the thorax still violently contracted, and oppressed with laborious re- spiration and heavy panting : she was incapable of ut- terance.' During the intensely hot summer of 1825, I expe- rienced an attack of daymare. Immediately after dining, I threw myself on my back upon a sofa, and, before I was aware, was seized'with difficult respiration, extreme dread, and 'utter incapability of motion or speech. I could neither move nor cry, while the breath came from my chest in broken and suffocating par- oxysms. During all this time, I was perfectly awake : I saw the light glaring in at the windows in broad sul- try streams ; I felt the intense heat of the day pervading my frame ; and heard distinctly the different noises in the street, and even the ticking of my own watch, which I had placed on the cushion beside me. I had, at the same time, the consciousness of flies buzzing around, and settling with annoying pertinacity upon my face. During the whole fit, judgment was never for a moment suspended. I felt assured that I laboured under a spe- cies of incubus. I even endeavoured to reason myself out of the feeling of dread which filled my mind, and longed with insufferable ardour for some one to open the door, and dissolve the spell which bound me in its fetters. The fit did not continue above five minutes ; by degrees I recovered the use of speech and motion : and as soon as they were so far restored as to enable 28 PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. me to call out and move my limbs, it wore insensibly away. Upon the whole, I consider daymare and nightmare identical. They proceed from the same causes, and must be treated in a similar manner. CHAPTER VII. SLEEP-WALKING. In simple dreaming, as I have already stated, some of the cerebral organs are awake, while others continue in the quiescence of sleep. Such, also, is" the case in somnambulism, but with this addition, that the dream is of so forcible a nature as to stimulate into action the muscular system as well as, in most cases, one or more of the organs of the senses. If we dream that we are walking, and the vision possesses such a degree of vividness and exciting energy as to arouse the muscles of locomotion, we naturally get up and walk. Should we dream that we hear or see, and the impression be so 'Vivid as to stimulate the eyes and ears, or, more pro- perly* speaking, those parts of the brain which take cognizance of sights and sounds, then we both see any objects, or hear any sounds, which may occur, just as if we were awake. In some cases, the muscles only are excited, and then we simply walk, without either seeing or hearing. In others, both the muscles and or- gans of sight are stimulated, and we not only walk, but have the use of our eyes. In a third variety, the activity of hearing is added, and we both walk, and see, and near. Should the senses of smell, taste, and touch be stimulated into activity, and relieved from the torpor into which they were thrown by sleep, we have them also brought into operation. If, to all this, we add an active state of the organs of speech, inducing us to talk, we arev then brought as nearly as the slumbering state admits, into the condition of perfect wakefulness. The following passage from Dr Mason Good will illus- trate some of the foregoing points more fully. 'If,' observes he, ' the external organ of sense thus stimulated be that of sight, the dreamer may perceive objects around him, and be able to distinguish them ; and if the tenor of the dreaming ideas should as power- fully operate upon the muscles of locomotion, these also may be thrown into their accustomed state of action, and he may rise from his bed, and make his way to /* whatever place the drift of his dream may direct him, with perfect ease, and free from danger. He will see more or less distinctly, in proportion as the organ of sight is more or less awake : yet, from the increased exhaustion, and, of course, increased torpor of the other organs, in consequence of an increased demand of sen- sorial power from the common stock, to supply the ac- tion of the sense and muscles immediately engaged, every other sense will probably be thrown into a deeper sleep or torpor than if the whole had been quiescent. Hence, the ears may not be roused even by a sound that might otherwise awake the sleeper. He may be insensible not only to a slight touch, but a severe shaking of the limbs ; and may even cough violently, without being recalled from his dream. Having ac- complished the object of his visionary pursuit, he may safely return, even over the most dangerous precipices —for he sees them distinctly—to his bed: and the organ of sight being now quite exhausted, or there being no longer any occasion for its use, it may once more as- sociate in the general inactivity, and the dream take a new turn, and consist of a new combination of images.'* I suspect that sleep-walking is sometimes hereditary, at least I have known instances which gave countenance to such a supposition. Its victims are generally pale, nervous, irritable persons ; and it is remarked that they * jjiood'e Study of Medicine, vol. iv. p. 175, 3d edit. are subject, without any apparent cause, to frequent attacks of cold perspiration. Somnambulism, I have had occasion to remark, is very common among chil- dren ; and I believe that it more frequently affects childhood than any other age. In females, it sometimes arises from amenorrhosa ; and any source of" bodily or mental irritation may produce it. It is a curious, and not easily explained fact, that the aged, though they dream more than the middle-aged, are less addicted to somnambulism and sleep-talking. Indeed, these phe- nomena are seldom noticed in old people. It has been matter of surprise to many, curious, that, even authenticated as they are by men of undoubted integrity and talent, it is extremely diffi- cult to place reliance upon them. The person who is thrown into the magnetic sleep is said to a acquire a new consciousness, and entirely to forget all the events of his ordinary life. When this sleep is dissolved, he gets into his usual state of feeling and recollection, but for- gets every thing that happened during the sleep ; being again magnetized, however, the remembrance of all that occurred in the previous sleep is brought back to his mind. In one of the cases above related, the pa- tient, a lady of sixty-four years, had an ulcerated cancer in the right breast". She had been magnetized for the purpose of dissolving the tumor, but no other effect was produced than that of throwing her into a species of somnambulic sleep, in which sensibility was annihilated, while her ideas retained all their clearness. In this state her surgeon, M. Chapelain, disposed her to submit to an operation, the idea of which she rejected with horror when awake. Having formally given her consent she undressed herself, sat down upon a chair, and the dis- eased glands were carefully and deliberately dissected out, the patient conversing all the time and being per- fectly insensible of pain. On awaking, she had no consciousnes whatever of having been operated upon ; but being informed ol the circumstance, and seeing her children around her, she experienced the most lively emotion, which the magnetizer instantly checked by again setting her asleep. These facts appear startling and incredible. I can give no opinion upon the sub- ject from any thing I have seen myself ; but the testi- mony of such men as Cloquet, Georget, and Itard, is not to be received lightly on any physiological point; aild they all concur in bearing witness to such facts as the above. In the present state of knowledge and opinion, with regard to animal magnetism, and the sleep occasioned by it, I shall not say more at present, but refer the reader to the ample details contained in the Parisian Report ; an able transla- tion of which into English has been made by by Mr Colquhoun. When a person is addicted to somnambulism, great care should be taken to have the door and windows of his sleeping apartment, secured, so as to prevent the possibility of egress, as he sometimes forces his way through the panes of glass : this should be put out of his power, by having the shutters closed, and bolted, in such a way that they cannot be opened without the aid of a key or screw, or some such instrument, which should never be left in the room where he sleeps, but carried away, while the door is secured on the outside. Some have recommended that a tub of water should be put by the bedside, that, on getting out, he might step into it, and be awaked by the cold ; but this, from the suddenness of its operation, might be attended with bad consequences in very nervous and delicate sub- jects. It is a good plan to fix a cord to the bedpost, and tie the other end of it securely round the person's wrist. This will effectually prevent mischief if he at- tempt to get up. Whenever it can bo managed, it will be prudent for another person to sleep along with him. In all cases, care should be taken to arouse him sud- denly. This must be done as gently as possible, and when he can be conducted to bed without being awak- ened at all, it is still better. Should he be perceived in any dangerous situation as on the house-top, or the brink of a precipice, the utmost caution is requisite ; for, if we call loudly upon him, his dread, on recover- ing, at finding himself in such a predicament, may actually occasion him to fall, where, if he had been left to himself, he would have escaped without injury. To" prevent a recurrence of somnambulism, we should remove, if possible, the cause which gave rise to it. Thus, if it proceed from a disordered state or the stomach, or biliary system, we must employ the various medicines used in such cases. Plenty of exercise should be taken, and late hours and much study avoided. If it arises from plethora, he must be blooded, and live low ; should hysteria produce it, antispasmodics, such as Valerian, ammonia, assafcetida, and opium may be j necessary. PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 31 But, unfortunately, we can often refer sleep-walking to no complaint whatever. In this case, all that can be done is to carry the individual as safely as possible through the paroxysm, and prevent him jfrom injury by the means we have mentioned. In many instances, the affection will wear spontaneously away : in others, it will continue in spite of every remedy. CHAPTER VIII. SLEEP-TALKING. This closely resembles somnambulism, and proceeds from similar causes. In somnambulism, those parts of the brain which are awake call the muscles of the limbs into activity ; while, in sleep-talking, it is the muscles necessary for the production of speech which are animated by the waking cerebral organs. During sleep, the organ of language may be active, either sin- gly or in combination with other parts of the brain; and of this activity sleep-talking is the result.* If, while we dream that we are conversing with some one, the organ of language is in such a high state of activity as to rouse the muscles of speech, we are sure to talk. It often happens, however, that the cerebral parts, though sufficiently active to make us dream that we are speak- ing, are not excited so much as to make us actually speak. We only suppose we are carrying on a conver- sation, while, in reality, we are completely silent. To produce sleeps-talking, therefore, the brain, in some of its functions, must be so much awake as to put into action the voluntary muscles by which speech is pro- duced. The conversation in this state, is of such subjects as our thoughts are most immediately occupied with ; and its consistency or incongruity depends upon that of the prevailing ideas—being sometimes perfectly rational and coherent; at other times, full df absurdity. The voice is seldom the same as in the waking state. This I would impute to the organs of hearing being mostly dormant, and consequently unable to guide the modu- lations of sound. The same fact is observable in very deaf persons, whose speech is usually harsh, unvaried, and monotonous. Sometimes the faculties are so far awake, that we can manage to converse with the indi- vidual, and extract from him the most hidden secrets of his soul : circumstances have thus been ascertained which would otherwise have remained in perpetual ob- scurity. By a little^.address in this way, a gentleman lately detected the infidelity of his wife from some ex- pressions which escaped her while asleep, and succeed- ed in finding out that she had a meeting arranged with her paramour for the following day. Lord Byron de- scribes a similar scene in his ' Parisina :' ' And Hugo is gone to his lonely bt-d, To covet there another's bride ; But she must lay her conscious head A husband's trusting heart beside. * Among the insane, the organ just mentioned is occasionally excited to such a degree that even, in the wakingstate, the pa- tient, however desirous, is literally unable to refrain from speak- ing. Mr. W. A. F. Browne has reported two cases of this na- ture in I he 37th No. of the Phrenological Journal. The fi>st is that of a woman in the hospital of 'La Salpetriere' in Paris. Whenever she encounters the physician or other of the attend- ants, she bursts forth into an address which is delivered wiih incredible rapidity and vehemence, and is generally an ahusive or ironical declamation against the tyranny, cruelty, and injus- tice to which she is exposed. In the midst of her harangues, however, she introduces frequent and earnest parenthetical de- clarations ' that she does not mean what she says ; that though she vows vengeance and showers imprecations on her medical attendant, she loves him, and feels grateful for his kindness and forbearance ; and that, though anxious to evince her gratitude and obedience by silence, she is constrained by an invisible agency to spe.ik.' In the other case, the individual speaks con- stantly • ' sleep itself does not yield an intermission ; and there is stron°- reason to believe that a part, at least of his waking on-tions'is delivered either without the cognizance of the other ' powers or without consciousness on the part of the speaker.' But fever'd in hrr sleep she seems, And red her cheek with troubled dreams, And mutters she in her unrest A name she dare not breathe by day, And clasps her lord unto her breast Which pants for one away.' From what has been said of somnambulism, the reader will be prepared for phenomena equally curious as regards sleep-talking. Persons have been known, for instance, who delivered sermons and prayers during sleep ; among others, Dr Haycock, Professor of Medi- cine in Oxford. He would give out a text in his sleep, and deliver a good sermon upon it; nor could all the pinching and pulling of his friends prevent hirh. ' One of the most remarkable cases of speaking during sleep,' observes a writer in Frazer's Magazine, ' is that of an American lady, now (we believe) alive, who preached during her sleep, performjng regularly every part of the Presbyterian service, from the psalm to the blessing. This lady was the daughter of respectable and even wealthy parents ; she fell into, bad health, and, under its influence, she disturbed and annoyed her family by her nocturnal eloquence. Her unhappy parents, though at first surprised, and perhaps flattered by the exhibition in their family of so extraordinary a gift, were at last convinced that it was the result of disease ; and, in the expectation that their daughter might derive benefit from change of scene, as well as from medical skill, they made a tour with her of some length, and visited New York and some of the other great cities of the Union. We know individuals who have heard her preach during the night in steamboats ; and it was cus- tomary, at tea parties in New York, (at the houses of medical practitioners,) to put the lady to bed in a room adjacent to the drawing-room, in order that the dille- tanti might witness so extraordinary a phenomenon. We have been told by ear-witnesses, that her sermons, though they had the appearance of connected discourses, consisted chiefly of texts of scripture strung together. It is strongly impressed upon our memory, that some of her sermons were published in America.' In the Edinburgh Journal of science, a lady who was subject to spectral illusions, is described as being sub- ject to talk in her sleep with great fluency, to repeat great portions of poeiry, especially when unwell, and even to cap verses for half an hour at a time, never failing to quote lines beginning with the final letter of the preceding till her memory was exhausted. Dr Dyce, in the Edinburgh Philosophical Transac- tions, relates the case of Maria C----, who, during one paroxvsm of somnambulism, recollected what took place in a preceding one, without having any such re- collection during the interval of wakefulness. One of the occasions in which this young woman manifested the power in question, was of a very melancholy nature. Her fellow-servant, a female of abandoned character, having found out that, on awaking, she entirely forgot every thing which occurred during the fit, introduced by stealth into the house, a young man of her acquain- tance, and obtained for him an opportunity of treating Maria in the most brutal and treacherous manner. The wretches succeeded in their object by stopping her mouth with the bed-clothes, by which and other means, they overcame the vigorous resistance she was enabled to make to their villany, even in her somnolent state. On awaking she had no consciousness whatever of the outrage ; but some days afterwards, having fallen into the same state, it recurred to-her memory, and she re- lated to her mother all the revolting particulars. The state of mind in this case was perfectly analagous to that which is said to occur in the magnetic sleep ; but the particular state of the brain which induces such conditions will, I believe, ever remain a mystery.* * A case, in.snme respects similar, was published in the Med- ical Repository, by Dr Mitchell, who received the particulars of itfron; Major FJlicot, Professor of Mathematics in the United States Military Academy at West Pomt. The subject was a 32 PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. The following singular case of sleep-talking, com- bined with somnambulism, will prove interesting to the reader:— ' A very ingenious and elegant young lady, with light eyes and hair, about the age of seventeen, in other re- spects well, was suddenly seized with this very wonder- ful malady. The disease began with violent convul- sions of almost every muscle of her body, with great, but vain efforts to vomit, and the most violent hiccoughs that can be conceived : these were succeeded in about an hour with a fixed spasm ; in which, one hand was applied to her head, and the other to support it: in about half an hour these ceased, and the reverie began suddenly, and was at first manifest by the look of her eyes and countenance, which seemed to express atten- tion. Then she conversed aloud with imaginary per- sons, with her eyes open, and could not, for about an hour, he brought to attend to the stimulus of external objects by any kind of violence which it was possible to use : these symptoms returned in this order every day for five or six weeks. ' These conversations were quite consistent, and we could understand what, she supposed her imaginary companions to answer, by the continuation of her part of the discourse. Sometimes she was angry, at other times showed much wit and vivacity, but was most frequently inclined to melancholy. In these reveries, she sometimes sung over some music with accuracy, and repeated whole passages from tbe English poets. In repeating some lines from Mr Pope's works, she had forgot one word, and began again, endeavouring to re- collect it; when she came to the forgotten word, it was shouted aloud in her ears, and this repeatedly, to no purpose ; but by many trials she at length regained it herself. ' Those paroxysms were terminated with the appear- ance of inexpressible surprise and great fear, from which she was some minutes in recovering herself, calling on her sister with great agitation, and very frequently un- derwent a repetition of convulsions, apparently from the pain of fear. ' After having thus returned for about an hour a-day, for two or three weeks, the reveries seemed to become less complete, and some of the circumstances varied, so that she could walk about the room in them, with- out running against any of the furniture ; though these motions were at first very unsteady and tottering. And afterwards, she once, drank a dish of tea, and the whole apparatus of the tea-table was set before her, and ex- young lady, of a good constitution, excellent capacity, and well educated. ' Her memory was capacious and well stored with a copious stock of idpas. Unexpectedly, and without any fore- warning, she lell into a profound sleep, which continued several hours beyond the ordinary term. On waking, she was discov- ered to have lost every trait of acquired knowledge. Her mem- ory was tabula rasa— all vesiiges, both of words and things were obliterated and gone. It was found necessary for her to learn every thing again. She even acquired, by new efforts, the art of spelling, reading, writing, and calculating, and gradually became acquainted with the persons and objects around, like a being for the first time brought into the world. In these exer- cises she made considerable proficiency. But after a few months another fit of somnolency invaded her. On rousing from it, she found herself restored to the state she was in before the first pa- roxysm ; but was wholly ignorant of every event and occurrence that had befallen her afterwards. The former condition of her existence she now calls the Old State, and the latter the New State ; and she is as unconscious of her double character as two distinct persons are of their respective natures. For example, in her old state, she possesses all the original knowledge ; in her new state, only what she acquired since. If a lady or gen- tleman be introduced to her in the old state, and vice versa,(and so of all other matters) to know them satisfactorily, she must learn them in both states. In the old state, she possesses fine powers of penmanship, while in the new, she writes a poor, awkward hand, having not had time or means to become expert. During four years and upwards, she has had periodical transi- tinns from one of these states to the other. The alterations are always consequent upon a long and sound sleep. Both the lady and her family are now capable of conducting the affair without embarrassment By simply knowing whether she is in the old or new state, they regulate the intercourse and govern them- j selves accordingly,' pressed some suspicion that a medicine was put into it; and once seemed to smell at a tuberose, which was in flower in her chamber, and deliberated aloud about breaking it for the stem, saying, ' It would make her sister so charmingly angry.' At another time, in her melancholy moments, she heard the bell, and then tak- ing off one of her shoes as she sat upon the bed, ' I love the color black,' says she ; 'a little wider and a little longer, and even this might make me a coffin !' Yet it is evident she was not sensible at this time, any more than formerly, of seeing or hearing any person about her ; indeed," when great light was thrown upon her by opening the shutters of the window ; she seemed less melancholy : and when I have forcibly held her hands, or covered her eyes, she appeared to grow impatient, and would say, she could not tell what to do, for she could neither see nor move. In all these circumstances, her pulse continued unaffected, as in health. And when the paroxysm was over, she could never recollect a sin- gle idea of what had passed.'* Equally extraordinary is the following instance of combined sleep-talking and somnambulism : ' A remarkable instance of this affection occurred to a lad named George David, sixteen years and a half old, in the service of Mr Hewson, butcher, of Bridge- Road, Lambeth. At about twenty minutes after nine o'clock, the lad bent forward in his chair, and rested his forehead on his hands, and in ten minutes started up, went for his whip, put on his one spur, and went thence to the stable ; not finding his own saddle in the proper place, he returned to the house and asked for it. Being asked what he wanted with it, he replied," to go his rounds. He returned to the stable, got on the horse without the saddle, and was proceeding to leave the stable: it was with much difficulty and force that Mr Hewson, junior, assisted by the other lad, could re- move him from the horse ; his strength was great, and it was with difficulty he was brought in doors. Mr Hewson, senior, coming home at this time, sent for Mr Benjamin Ridge, an eminent practitioner, in Bridge- Road, who stood by him for a quarter of an hour, during which time the lad considered himself as stopped at the turnpike-gate, and took sixpence out of his pocket to be changed ; and holding out his hand for the change, the sixpence was returned to him. He immediately observed, ' None of your nonsense—that is the six- pence again ; give me my change ;' when two pence halfpenny was given to him, he counted it over, and said, ' None of your gammon ; that is not right; I want a penny more;' making the three pence halfpenny, which was his proper change. He then said, ' Give me my castor, (meaning his hat,) which slang term he had been in the habit of using, and then began to whip and spur to get his horse on. His pulse at this time was 136, full and hard ; no change of countenance could be observed, nor any spasmodic affection of the muscles, the eyes remaining close the whole of the time. His coat was takan off his arm, shirt sleeves tucked Up, and Mr Ridge bled him to 32 ounces ; no alteration had taken place in him during the first part of the time the blood was flowing; at about 24 ounces, the pulse began to decrease ; and when the full quantity named above had been taken, it was at 80—a slight perspira- tion on the forehead. During the time of bleeding, Mr Hewson related a circumstance of a Mr Harris, opti- cian, in Holborn, whose son, some years since, walked out on the parapet of the house in his sleep. The boy joined the conversation, and observed, ' He lived at the corner of Brownlow-Street.' After the arm was tied up, he unlaced one boot, and said he would go to bed : in three minutes from this time, he awoke, got up, and asked what was the matter, (having then been one hour in the trance,) not having the slightest recollection of any thing that had passed", and wondered at his arm be- ing tied up, and at the blood, &c. A strong aperient » Darwin's ' Zoonoinia.' PHILOSOPHY medicine was then administered : he went to bed, slept well, and the next day appeared perfectly well, except- ing debility from the bleeding, and operation of the medicine, and has no recollection whatever of what had taken place. None of his family or himself were ever affected in this way before.'* , Sleep-talking is generally such a trivial affection as not to require any treatment whatever. In every case the digestive organs must be attended to, and, if dis- ordered, put to. rights by suitable medicines. And should the affection proceed, or be supposed to proceed from hypochondria, hysteria, or the prevalence of any strong mental emotion, these states must be treated according to general principles. When it arises from idiosyncrasy, and becomes habitual, I believe that no means which can be adopted will be of much avail. As, in the case of somnambulism, it very frequently hap- pens that the affection, after continuing for along time, and baffling every species of treatment, disappears spontaneously. CHAPTER IX. SLEEPLESSNESS. Sleep takes place as soon as the sensorial power that keeps the brain awake is expended, which, under commoi. circumstances, occurs at our ordinary hour of going to rest, or even sooner, if any sophorific cause sufficiently strong should chance to operate. But the above power may be increased by various means, as in cases of physical suffering, or excited imagination, and, consequently, is not expended at the usual time. In this case, the person remains awake, and continues so till the period of its expenditure, which may not happen for several hours after he lies down, or even not at all, during the whole of that night. Now, whatever in- creases the sensorial power, whether it be balls, con- certs, grief, joy, or bodily pain, is prejudicial to repose. By them the mind is exalted to a pitch of unnatural action, from which it is necessary it should descend before it can roll into the calm channel of sleep. Whatever stimulates the external senses, however slightly, may prevent sleep. Thus, the ticking of a clock has this effect with very sensitive people ; and a candle burning in the chamber is attended with the same result. Even when the eyes are shut this may take place, for the eye-lids are sufficiently transparent to transmit a sense of light to the retina. For the same reason, the light of day peering in at the window may awake us from or prevent slumber. It is said that Napoleon could never sleep if exposed to the influence of light, although, in other circumstances, slumber ap- peared at his bidding with surprising readiness. A constitutional restlessness is sometimes brought on by habitually neglecting to solicit sleep when we lie down, by which means the brain is brought into such a state of irritability, that we can hardly sleep-at all. Chronic wakefulness, originating from any mental or bodily affection, sometimes degenerates into a habit, in which the sufferer will remain for weeks, months, or even years, if authors are to be believed, awake. In the disease called delirium tremens, wakefulness is a constant symptom, and frequently continues for many successive days and nights. It is also an attendant upon all disorders accompanied by acute suffering, es- pecially when the brain is affected, as in phrenitis, or fever. Maniacs, from the excited state of their sen- sorium, are remarkably subject to want of sleep ; and this symptom is often so obstinate as to resist the most powerful remedies we can venture to prescribe. Certain stimulating agents, such as tea or coffee, taken shortly before going to bed, have often the effect * ' Lancet,' vol i. OF SLEEP. 33 I of preventing sleep. I would impute this to their irri- tative properties, which, by supplying the brain with fresh sensorial power, enable it to carry on uninterrupt- edly all its functions longer than it would otherwise do, and consequently prevent it from relapsing into slum- ber at the usual period. \ Any uneasy bodily feeling has the same effect—both preventing the accession of sleep, and arousing us from it when it has fairly taken place. Thus, while moderate fatigue provoke slumber, excessive fatigue, owing to the pain and irritation it necessarily occasions, drives it away. Sickness, cold, heat, pregnancy, the ordinary calls of nature, a disagreeable bed, the want of an ac- customed supper, too heavy a supper, or uneasiness of any kind, have the same result. Cold is most apt to induce sleeplessness, when partial, especially if it be confined to the feet ; for when general and sufficiently intense, it has the opposite effect, and give rise to drowsiness. Certain diseases, such as hemicrania, tic dolourcux, &c., have actually kept the person awake for three successive months ; and all painful affections prevent sleep more or less. But the most violent tor- tures cannot altogether banish, however much they may retard it. Sooner or later the fatigue, which a want of it occasions, prevails, and slumber ultimately ensues. Sleeplessness is sometimes produced by a sense of burning heat -in the soles of the feet and palms of the hands, to which certain individuals are subject some time after lying down. This seems to proceed from a want of perspiration in these parts ; owing generally to impaired digestion. Mental emotions, of every description, are unfavor- able to repose. If a man, as soon as he lays his head upon a pillow, can banish thinking, he is morally cer- tain to fall asleep. There are many individuals so con- stituted, that they can do this without effort, and the consequence is, they are excellent sleepers. It is very different with those whose minds are oppressed by care, or over stimulated by excessive study. The sorrowful man, above all others, has the most need of sleep ; but, far from shedding its benignant influence over him, it flies away, and leaves him to the communionship of his own sad thoughts : 1 His slumbers—if he slumber—are not sleep, But a continuance of enduring thought.' It is the same with the man of vivid imagination. His fancy, instead of being subdued by the spell of sleep, becomes more active than ever. Thoughts in a thousand fantastic forms—myriads of waking dreams— pass through his mind, whose excessive activity spurns at repose, and mocks all his endeavors to reduce it to quiescence. Great joy will often scare away sleep for many nights.; but, in this respect, it is far inferior to grief, a fixed attack of which has been known to keep the sufferer awake for several months. Those who meditate much, seldom sleep well in the early part of the night: they lie awake, for perhaps two or three hours, after going to bed, and do not fall into slumber till towards morning. Persons of this description often lie long, and are reputed lazy by early risers, although, it is probable, they actually sleep less than thesje early risers themselves. Long continued study is highly pre- judicial to repose. Boerhaave mentions that, on one occasion, owing to this circumstance, he did not close his eyes for six weeks. Nothing is so hurtful both to the mind and body as want of sleep. Deprived of the necessary portion, the person gets wan, emaciated and listless, and very soon falls into bad health; the spirit becomes entirely broken, and the fire of even the most ardent dispositions is quenched. Nor is this law peculiar to the human race, for it operates with similar power upon the lower ani- mals, and deprives them of much of their natural ferocity. An illustration of this fact is afforded in the taming of wild elephants. These animals, when first :i4 PHILOSOPH Y OF SLEEP. caught, are studiously prevented from sleeping; in consequence of which, they become, in a few days, comparatively mild and harmless. Restlessness, when long protracted, may terminate in delirium, or confirm- ed insanity ; and in many diseases, it is the most obsti- nate symptom we have to struggle against By ■ it alone, all the existing bad symptoms are aggravated; and as soon as we can succeed in overcoming it, every thing disagreeable and dangerous frequently wears away, and the person is restored to health. In restlessness, both the perspiration and urinary se- cretions are usually much increased; there is also an ac- cession of heat in the system, and a general feverish tendency, unless the want of sleep should proceed from cold. With regard to the treatment of sleeplessness, a very few words will suffice : in fact, upon this head little more can be said, than a recommendation to obviate the causes from whence it proceeds, and it will naturally disappear. I may mention, however, that when there is no specific disease, either of body or mind, to which the want of sleep can be imputed, the person should keep himself in as cheerful a mood as possible—should rise early, if his strength permits it, and take such ex- ercise as to fatigue himself moderately ; and if all these means fail, that he ought to make use of opium. In all cases of restlessness, indeed, this medicipe must be had recourse to, if the affection resists every other remedy, and continues so long as to endanger health. Those preparations of opium, the acetate and muriate of morphia, have latterly been a good deal used, and with excellent effect, for the same purpose. When neither opium nor its preparations agrees with the con- stitution, it becomes necessary to employ other narco- tics, especially hyosciamus or hop. A pillow of hops sometimes succeeds in inducing sleep when other means fail. Such was the case with his late majesty, George III., who, by this contrivance, was relieved from the protracted wakefulness under which he labour- ed for so long a time. In giving medicines to produce sleep, great attention must be paid to the disease which occasions the restlessness ; for, in phrenitis, high fever, and some other disorders, it would be most injurious to administer anodynes of any kind. In such cases, as the restlessness is merely a symptom of the general disease, its removal will depend upon that of the latter. When, however, the acute symptoms have been over- come, and nothing but chronic wakefulness, the result of debility, remains behind, it then becomes necessary to have recourse to opium, or such other remedies as may be considered applicable to the particular case. Studious men ought to avoid late reading ; and, on go- ing to bed, endeavour to abstract their minds from all intrusive ideas. They should try to circumscribe their thoughts within the narrowest possible circle, and pre- vent them from becoming rambling or excursive. I have often coaxed invself asleep by internally repeating half a dozen of times, any well known rhyme. While doing so, the ideas must, be strictly directed to this par- ticular theme, and prevented from wandering; for sometimes, duriny the process of repetition, the mind takes a^ strange turn, and performs two offices at the same time, being directed u> the rhyme on the one hand, and to something else on the other; and it will be found that the hold it has of the former, is often- tnnps much weaker than of the latter. The great se- cret is. by a strong"effort of the will to compel the mind to depart from the favourite train of thought into which it has run, and address itself solely to the inter- nal repetition of what is substituted in its place. If this is persevered in, it will generally be found to succeed ; and I would recommend all those who are prevented from sleeping, in consequence of too active a flow of ideas, to try the experiment. As has been already re- marked, the more the mind is made to turn upon a sin- gle impression, the more closely it is made to approach to the state of sleep, which is the total absence of all impressions. People should never go to bed immedi- ately after studying hard, as the brain is precisely in that state of excitement which must prevent sleep. The mind ought previously to be relaxed by light con- versation, music, or any thing which requires little thought. In some cases of restlessness, sleep may be procured by the person getting up, and walking for a few minutes about the room. It is not easy to explain on what principle this acts, but it is certain, that by such means sleep sometimes follows, where previously it had been solicited in vain. It is customary with some people to read themselves into slumber, but dangerous accidents have arisen from this habit, in consequence of the light- ed candle setting fire to the bed curtains. A safer and more effectual way is to get another person to read; in which case, sleep will very generally take place, espe- cially if the subject in question is not one of much in- terest, or read in a dry monotonous manner. When sleeplessness proceeds from the heat of the weather, the person should lie very lightly covered, and let the air circulate freely through his room. A cold bath taken shortly before going to bed, or sponging the body with cold water, will often ensure a comfortable night's rest in the hot season of the year. When it arises from heat in the soles or palms, these parts should be bathed with cold vinegar and water, before lying down, and, if necessary, occasionally afterwards till' the heat abates, which usually occurs in two or three hours. Attention must also be paid to the stomach and bowels. An easy mind, a good digestion, and plenty of exer- cise in the open air, are the grand conducives to sound sleep;—and, accordingly, every man whose repose is indifferent, should endeavour to make them his own as soon as possible. When sleeplessness becomes habitu- al, the utmost care ought to be taken to overcome the habit, by the removal of every thing that has a tendency to charish it. CHAPTER X. DROWSINESS. Drowsiness is symptomatic of apoplexy and some other diseases, but sometimes it exists as an idiopathic affection. There are persons who have a disposition to sleep on every occasion. They do so at all times, and in all places. ' They sleep after dinner ; they sleep in the theatre ; they sleep in church. It is the same to them in what situation they may be placed : sleep is the great end of their existence—their occupation—their sole employment. Morpheus is the deity at whose shrine they worship—the only god whose influence over them is omnipotent. Let them be placed in almost any circumstances, and their constitutional failing prevails. It falls upon them in the midst of mirth ; it assails them when travelling. Let them sail, or ride, or sit, or lie, or walk, sleep overtakes them—binds their faculties in torpor; and makes them dead to all that is passing around. Such are our dull, heavy-headed, drowsy mortals, those sons and daughters of phlegm—with passions as inert as a Dutch fog, and intellects as slug- gish as the movements of the hippopotamus or the le- viathan. No class of society is so insufferable as this. ' There is a torpor and obtuseness about their faculties, which render them dead to every impression. They have eyes and ears, yet they neither see nor hear; aod the most exhilarating scenes may be passing before them without once attracting their notice. It is not uncommon for persons of this stamp to fall asleep in the midst of a party ro which they have been invited ; Mr Mackenzie, in one of his papers, speaks of an hones: PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 35 farmer having done so alongside of a young lady, who was playing on the harp for his amusement. The cause of this constitutional disposition to doze upon every oc- casion, seems to be a certain want of activity in the brain, the result of which is, that the individual is sin- gularly void of fire, energy, and passion. He is of a phlegmatic temperament, generally a great eater, and very destitute of imagination. Such are the general characteristics of those who are predisposed to drowsi- ness : the cases where such a state coexists with intel- lectual energy are few in number. Boerhaave speaks of an eccentric physician who took it into his head that sleep was the natural state of man, and accordingly slept eighteen hours out of the twenty- four—till he died of apoplexy, a disease which is al- ways apt to be produced by excessive sleep. Cases of constitutional drowsiness are in a great measure without remedy, for the soporific tendency springs from some natural defect, which no medicinal means can overcome. Equally impossible of cure is the affection when it arises, as it very often does, from old age. Even long before this period of life, as at the age of fifty or sixty, people very often get into somnolent habits, and are pretty sure to fall asleep if they attempt to read, or even if they place themselves in an easy chair before the fire. I know of no cure for this indolent propen- sity, unless indeed the habits arise, as it sometimes does, from corpulency, in which case it is more man- ageable, in so far as its cause is occasionally capable of being removed. Drowsiness sometimes proceeds from a fulness of blood in the head, or a disordered state of the digestive organs. When it originates from the former cause, it becomes necessary to have recourse to general or local blood-letting. The person, likewise, should use, from time to time, mild laxatives, live temperately, and take abundance of exercise. Medicines of a similar kind are necessary when the affection arises from the state of the stomach and bowels : so soon as these organs are restored to health, the symptomatic drowsiness will naturally disappear. Persons who feel the disposition to drowsiness gam- ing upon them, should struggle vigorously against it; for when once the habit is fairly established, its eradi- cation is very difficult. Exercise of body and mind, early rising and the cold bath, are among the best means for this purpose. CHAPTER XI. PROTRACTED SLEEP. I have already mentioned a few instances of indhi- duals remaining for days or weeks in a state of pro- found sleep. The nature of this extraordinary affection is in a great measure, unknown ; it arises, in most cases, without any obvious cause, generally resists every method that can be adopted for removing it, and disappears of its own accord. The case of Mary Lyall, related in the 8th vo- lume of the 'Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh,' is one of the most remarkable instances of excessive somnolency on record. This woman fell asleep on the morning of the 27th of June, and continued in that state till the evening of the 30th of the same month, when-she awoke, and remained in her usual way till the 1st of July, when she again fell asleep, and continued so till the the 8th of Auo-ust. She was bled, blistered, immersed in the hot" and cold bath, and stimulated in almost every possible way, without having any consciousness of what was going on. For the first seven days she con- tinued motionless, and exhibited no inclination to eat. At the end Oi" this time she began to move her left hand; and, by pointing to her mouth, signified a wish for food. She took readily what was given to her ; still she discovered no symptoms of hearing, and made no other kind of bodily movement than of her left hand. Her right hand and arm, particularly, appeared completely dead, and bereft of feeling ; and even when pricked with a pin, so as to draw blood, never, shrank in the least degree. At the same time, she instantly drew back her left arm whenever it was touched by trie point of the pin. She continued to take food when- ever it was offered to her. For the first two weeks, her pulse generally stood at 50, during the third and fourth week, about 60; and on the day before her re- covery, at 70 or 72. Her breathing was soft and al- ' most imperceptible, but during the night-time she oc- casionally drew it more strongly, like a person who has first fallen asleep. She evinced no symptom of hear- ing, till about four days before her recovery. On being interrogated, after this event, upon her extraordinary state, she mentioned that she had no knowledge of any thing that had happened—'that she had never been con- scious of either having needed or received food, or of having been blistered ; and expressed much surprise on finding her head shaved. She had merely the idea of having passed a long night in sleep. The case of Elizabeth Perkins is also remarkable. In the year 1788, she fell into a profound slumber, from which nothing could arouse her, and remained in this state for 'between eleven and twelve days, when she awoke of her own accord, to the great joy of her rela- tives, and wonder of the neighbourhood. On recover- ing, she went about her usual business ; but this was only for a short period, for in a week after she relapsed again into a sleep which lasted some days. She con- tinued, with occasional intervals of wakefulness, in a dozing state for several months, when she expired. There was lately at Kirkheaton a remarkable in- stance of excessive sleep. A poor paralytic, twenty years of age, was seldom, for the period of twelve months, awake more than three -hours in the twenty- four. On one occasion, he slept for three weeks ; he took not a particle of either food or drink; "nothing could rouse him, even for a moment; yet his sleep ap- peared to be calm and natural. The case of Elizabeth Armitage of Woodhouse, near Leeds, may also be mentioned. The age of this per- son was sixty-nine years. She had been'for several months in a decline, during which she had taken very little sustenance, when she fell into a state of lethargic stupor, on the morning of the 1st of July, 1827, in which condition she remained, without Uttering one word, re- ceiving any food, or shovving any signs of life, except breathing, which was at times almost imperceptible. In this state she continued for eight days, when she ex- pired without a groan. Excessively protracted sleep may ensue from the in- judicious use of narcotics. A very striking instance of this kind occurred on 17th February, 1816, near Lym- ington. In consequence of a complaint with which a child had been painfully afflicted for some time previ- ous, its mother gave it an anodyne, (probably lauda- num,) for the purpose of procuring it rest. The con- sequence was, that it fell into a profound sleep, which continued for three weeks. In this case, in addition to an excessive dose, the child must have possessed some constitutional idiosyncrasy, which favoured the opera- tion of the medicine in a very powerful manner. One of the most extraordinary instances of excessive sleep, is that of the lady of Nistnes, published in 1777, in the ' Memoirs of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Berlin.' Her attacks of sleep took place periodically, at sunrise and about noon. The first continued till ! within a short time of the accession of the second, and ! the second till between seven and eight in the evening —when she awoke, and continued so till the next sun- rise. The most extraordinary fact connected with this 36 PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. case is, that the first attack commenced always at day- break, whatever might be the season of the year, and the other always immediately after twelve o'clock. During the brief interval of wakefulness which ensued shortly before noon, she took a little broth, which she had only time to do, when the second attack returned upon her, and kept her asleep till the evening. Her sleep was remarkably profound, and had all the charac- ters of complete insensibility, with the exception of a feeble respiration, and a weak but regular movement of the pulse. The most singular fact connected with her remains to be mentioned. When the disorder had lasted six months, and then ceased, she had an interval of perfect health for the same length of time. When it lasted one year, the subsequent interval was of equal duration. The affection at last wore gradually away ; and she lived, entirely free of it, for many years after. She died in the eighty-first year of her age, of dropsy, a complaint which had no connexion with her preceding disorder. There are a good many varieties in the phenomena of protracted sleep. In some cases, the individual re- mains for many days without eating or drinking ; in others, the necessity for these natural wants arouses him for a short time from his slumber, which time he employs in satisfying hunger and thirst, and then in- stantly gets into his usual state of lethargy. The lat- ter kind of somnolency is sometimes feigned by impos- tors for the purpose of extorting charity ; on this ac- count, when an instance of the kind occurs, it should be narrowly looked into, to see that there is no decep- tion. The power possessed by the body of subsisting for such a length of time in protracted sleep, is most re- markable, and bears some analogy to the abstinence of the polar bear in the winter season. It is to be ob- served, however, that during slumber, life can be sup- ported by a much smaller portion of food than when we are awake, in consequence of the diminished expendi- ture of the vital energy which takes place in the former state. All that can be done for the cure of prbtracted som- nolency, is to attempt to rouse the person by the use of stimuli, such as blistering, pinching, the warm or cold bath, the application of sternutatories to the nose, &c. Blooding should be had recourse to, if we suspect any apopletic tendency to exist. Every means must be employed to get nourishment introduced into the stomach ; for this purpose, if the sleeper cannot swallow, nutritious fluids should be forced, from time to time, into this organ by means of Jukes' pump, which answers the purpose of filling as well as evacu- ating it. CHAPTER XII. SLEEP PROM COLD. This kind of sleep is so peculiar, that it requires to be considered separately. The power of cold in occasion- ing slumber, is not confined to man, but pervades a very extensive class of animals.. The hybernation, or winter torpitude of the brown and Polar bear, results from this cause. Those animals continue asleep for months ; and do not awake from their apathy till re- vived by the,genial temperature of spring. The same is the case with the hedgehog, the badger, the squirrel, and several species of the mouse and rat tribes, such as the dormouse and marmot : as also with the land tor- toise, the frog, and almost all the individuals of the lizard, insect, and serpent tribes. Fishes are often found imbedded in the ice, ahd though in a state of apparent death, become at once lively and animated on being exposed to heat. " The fish froze," says Cap- tain Franklin, ' as fast as they were taken out of the nets, and in a short time became a solid mass of ice, and by a blow or two of the hatchet were easily split open, when the intestines might be removed in one lump. If, in this completely frozen state, they were thawed be- fore the fire, they recovered their animation.' Sheep sometimes remain for several weeks in a state of tor- pitude, buried beneath wreaths of snow. Swallows are occasionally in the same state, being found torpid and insensible in the hollows of trees, and among the ruins of old houses during the winter season ; but with birds this more rarely happens, owing, probably, to the temperature of their blood being higher than that of other animals, and thereby better enabling them to re- sist the cold. Almost all insects sleep in winter. This is particularly the case with the crysalis, and such grubs as cannot, at that season, procure their food. In hybernating animals, it is impossible to trace any peculiarity of structure which disposes them to hyber- nate, and enables life to be sustained during that pe- riod. So far the subject is involved in deep obscuri- ty. According to Dr Edwards, the temperature of such animal sinks considerably during sleep, even in summer. Want of moisture produces torpor in some animals. This is the case with the garden snail, which revives if a little water is thrown on it. Snails, indeed, have revived after being dried for fifteen years. Mr Baucer has restored the vibris tritici (a species of worm) after perfect torpitude and apparent death for five years and eight months by merely soaking it in water. The furcularia anostobea, a small microscopic animal, may be killed and revived a dozen times by drying it and then applying moisture. According to Spailanzani, animalculi have been recovered by moisture after a torpor of twenty-seven years. Larger animals are thrown into the same state from want of moisture. Such according to Humboldt, is the case with the alligator and boa constrictor during the dry season in the plains of Venezuela, and with the centenes solosous, a species of hedge hog found in Madagascar ; so that dryness as well as cold, produces hybernation, if, in such a case, we may use that term. The power of intense cold in producing sleep, is very great in the human subject, and nothing in the winter season is more common than to find people lying dead in fields and on the high highways from such a cause. An overpowering drowsiness steals upon them, and if they yield to its influence death is almost unevi- table. This is the particularly the case in snow- storms, in which it is often impossible to get a place of shelter. This state of torpor, with the exception perhaps of catalepsy, is the most perfect sleep that can be imagin- ed : it approaches almost to death in its apparent anni- hilation of the animal functions. Digestion is at an end, and the secretions and excretions suspended : nothing seems to go on but circulation, respiration and absorption. The two former are extremely languid,* but the latter tolerably vigofous, if we may judge from the quantity of fat which the animal loses during its torpid state. The bear, for example, on going to its wintry rest, is remarkably corpulent; on awaking from it, quite emaciated ; in which state, inspired by the pangs of hunger, it sallies forth with redoubled fury upon its prey. Life is sustained by the absorption of this fat, which for months serves the animal as provi- sion. Such emaciation, however, is not common to all hybernating animals, some of whom lose little or noth- ing by their winter torpitude. Hybernation may be prevented. Thus the polar bear in the menagerie at Paris never hybernated; and * The extremely languid, or almost suspended state of these two functi jns, is demonstrated by the fact, that an animal in a state of hybernation may be placed for an hour in a, jar of hy- drogen without suffering death. PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. * 37 in the marmot and hedgehog hybernation is prevented if the animals be kept in a higher temperature. It is also a curious fact, that an animal, if exposed to a more intense cold, while hybernating, is awaked from its lethargy. Exposing a hybernating animal to light has also, in many cases the same effect. Some writers, and Buffon among the rest, deny that such a state of torpor as we have here described, can be looked upon as sleep. This is a question into which it is not necessary at present to enter. All I contend for is, that the state of the mind is precisely the same here as in the ordinary sleep—that, in both cases, the organs of the senses and of volition are equally inert; and that though the condition of the secretive and cir- culating systems are different, so many circumstances are nevertheless identical, that we become justified in considering the one in a work which professes to treat of the other. In Captain Cook's first voyage, a memorable instance is given of the power of intense cold in producing sleep. It occurred in the island of Terra del Fuego. Dr Solander, Mr Banks, and several other gentlemen had ascended the mountains of that cold region, for the purpose of botanizing and exploring the country. ' Dr Solander, who had more than once crossed the moun- tains which divide Sweden from Norway, well knew that extreme cold, especially when joined with fatigue, produces a torpor and sleepinesss that are almost irre- sistible. He, therefore, conjured the company to keep moving whatever pain it might cost them, and whatever relief they might be promised by an inclination to rest. ' Whoever sits down,' said he, ' will sleep; and whoever sleeps, will wake no more,' Thus at once admonished and alarmed, they set forward ; but while they were still upon the naked rock, and before they had wot among the bushes, the cold became suddenly so intense as to produce the effects that had been most dreaded. Dr Solander himself was the first who felt the inclination, against which he had warned others, irresistible ; and insisted upon being suffered to lie down. Mr Banks entreated and remonstrated in vain ; down he lay upon tbe ground, although it was covered with snow, and it was with great difficulty that his friend kept him from sleeping. Richmond, also, one of the black servants, began to linger, having suffered from the cold in the same manner as the Doctor. Mr Banks, therefore, sent five of the company, among whom was Buchan, forward, to get a fire ready at the first convenient place they could find; and himself, with four others remained with the Doctor and Rich- mond, whom, partly by persuasion and entreaty, and partly by force, they brought on ; but when they had got through the greatest part of the birch and swamp, they both declared they could go no farther. Mr Banks again had recourse to entreaty and expostulation, but they produced no effect. When Richmond was told that, if he did not go on, he would in a short time be frozen to death, he answered, that he desired nothing but to lie down- and die. . The Doctor did not so ex- plicitly renounce his life ; he said he was willing to go on, but that he must first take some sleep, though he had before told the company, to sleep was to perish. Mr Banks and the rest found it impossible to carry them ; and there being no remedy, they were both suf- fered to sit down, being partly supported by the bushes ; and in a few minutes they fell into a profound sleep. Soon after, some of the people who had been sent for- ward returned, with the welcome news that a fire was kindled about a quarter of a mile farther on the way. Mr Banks then endeavored to awake Dr Solander, and happily succeeded. But though he had not slept five minutes, he had almost lost the use of his limbs, and the muscles were so shrunk, that the shoes fell from his feet: he consented to go forward with such assistance as could be given him, but no attempts to relieve poor Richmond were successful. It is hardly necessary to say any thing about the treat- ment of such cases. If a person is found in a state of torpor from cold, common sense points out the neces- sity of bringing him within the influence of warmth. When, however, the limbs, &c, are frost-bitten, heat must be very cautiously applied, lest reaction, ensuing in such debilitated parts, might induce gangrene. Brisk friction with a cold towel, or even with snow, as is the custom in Russia, should, in the first instance, be had recourse to. When by this means the circulation is restored, and motion and feeling communicated to the parts, the heat may be gradually increased, and the person wrapped in blankets, and allowed some stimu- lus internally, such as a little negus, or spirits and water. This practice should be adopted from the very first, when the parts are not frost-bitten; but when such is the case, the stimulating system requires to be used with great caution, and we must proceed carefully, proportioning the stimulus to the particular circumstance of the case. If a person is unfortunate enough to be overtaken in a snow storm, and has no immediate prospect of extrication, he should, if the cold is very great, and the snow deep, sink his body as much as possible in the latter, leaving only room for respiration. By this plan, the heat of the body is much better preserved than when exposed to the influence of the atmosphere, and life has a greater, chance of being saved ; for the temperature of the snow is not lower than that of the surrounding air, while its power of absorbing caloric is much less.° It is on this principle that sheep live for such a length of time enveloped in snow wreaths, while, had .they been openly exposed, for a much less period, to a similar degree of cold, death would inevi- tably have ensued. One of the best methods to prevent the limbs from being frost-bitten in intensely cold weather, is to keep them continually in motion. Such was the method re- commended by Xenophon to the Greek troops, in the memorable ' retreat of the ten thousand,' conducted by that distinguished soldier and historian CHAPTER XIII TRANCE. There is some analogy between suspended animation and sleep. It is not so striking, however, as to require any.thing like a lengthened discussion of the former, which I shall only consider in so far as the resemblance holds good between it and sleep. I have already spo- ken of that suspension of the mind, and of some of the vital functions, which occurs in consequence of intense cold; but there are other varieties, not less singular in their nature. The principal of these are, fainting, apo- plexy, hanging, suffocation, drowning and especially, trance. When complete fainting takes place, it has many of the characters of death—the countenance be- ing pail, moist, and clammy ; the body cold ; the re- spiration extremely feeble ; the pulsation of the heart apparently at an end; while the mind is in a state of utter abeyance. It is in the latter respect only that the resemblance exists between syncope and sleep; in every other they are widely different. The same rule holds with regard to apoplexy, in which a total insensi- bility, even to the strongest stimuli, takes place, accom- panied also with mental torpor. In recoverable cases of drowning, hanging, and suffocation, a similar analogy prevails, only in a much feebler degree ; the faculties . of the mind being for the time suspended, and the ac- tual existence of the vital spark only proved by the sub- sequent restoration of the individual to consciousness and feeling. The most singular species, however, of suspended 33 , PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. animation is that denominated catalepsy, or trance. No affection, to which the animal frame is subject, is more remarkable than this. During its continuance, the whole body is cold, rigid, and inflexible ; the coun- tenance without color; the eyes fixed and motionless ; while breathing and the pulsation of the heart are, to all appearance, at an end. The mental powers, also, are generally suspended, and participate in the universal torpor which pervades the frame. In this extraordi- nary condition, the person may remain for several days, having all, or nearly all, the characteristics of death impressed upon him. Such was the case with the celebrated Lady Russel, who only escaped premature interment by the affectionate prudence of her husband ; and other well authenticated instances of similar preser- vation from burying alive, have been recorded The nature of this peculiar species of suspended ani- mation, seems to be totally unknown; for there is such an apparent extinction of 'every faculty essential to life, that it is inconceivable how existence should go on during the continuance of the fit. There can be no doubt, however, that the suspension of the heart and lungs is.more apparent than real. It is quite certain that the functions of these organs must continue, so as to sustain life although in so feeble a manner as not to come under the cognizance of our senses. The respi- ration, in particular, is exceedingly slight; for a mirror, held to the mouth of the individual, receives no tarnish whatever from his breath. One fact seems ceitain, that the functions of the nervous system are wholly suspended, with the exception of such a faint portion of energy, as to keep up the circulatory and respiratory phenomena : consciousness, in a great majority of cases, is abolished; and there is nothing wanting to indicate the unquestionable presence of death, but that decom- position of the body which invariably follows this state, and which never attends the presence of vitality. The remote causes of trance are hidden in much ob- scurity ; and, generally, we aie unable to trace the af- fection to any external circumstance. It has been known to follow a fit of terror. Sometimes it ensues after hysteria, epilepsy, or other spasmodic diseases, and is occasionally an accompaniment of menorrhagia audi intestinal worms. Nervous and hypochondriac patients are the most subject to its attacks ; but some- times it occurs when there is no disposition of the kind, and when the person is in a state of the most seeming good health. ' A girl named Shorigny, about twenty-five years old, residing at Paris, had been for two years past sub- ject to hysteria. On the twenty-eighth day after she was first attacked, the physician who came to visit her was informed that she had died during the night, which much surprised him, as when he had left her the night before, she was better than usual. He went to see her, in order to convince himself of the fact'; and, on raising the cloth with which she was covered, he per- ceived that though her face was very pale, and her lips discoloured, her features were not otherwise in the least altered. Her mouth was open, her eyes shut, and the pupils very much dilated ; the light of the candle made no impression on them. There was no sensible heat in her body ; but it was not cold and flabby like corpses in general. The physician returned the next day, determined on seeing her again before she was bu- ried ; and, finding that she had not become cold, he gave orders that the coffin should not be soldered down until putrefaction had commenced. He continued to ob- serve her during five days, and at the end of that peri- od, a slight movement was observed in the cloth which covered her. In two hours, it was found that the arm had contracted itself ; she began to move ; and It was clear that it had only been an apparent death. The eyes soon after were seen opened, the senses returned, and the girl began gradually to recover. This is an ■extraordinary, but incontestable fact : the girl is still alive, and a great many persons who saw her while she was in' the state of apathy described, are ready to satisfy the doubts of any one who will take the trouble to in- quire.'* The case which follows is from the Canton Gazette, and is not less curious :— ' On the western suburbs of Canton, a person named Le, bought as a slave-woman a girl named Leaning. At the age of twenty-one, he sold her to be a concu- bine to a man named Wong. She had lived with him three years. About six months ago she became ill, in consequence of a large imposthume on her side, and on the 25th of the present moon died. She was placed in a coffin, the lid of which remained unfastened, to wait for her parents to come and see the corpse, that they might be satisfied she died a natural death. On the 28th, while carrying the remains to be interred in the north side of Canton, a noise or voice was heard pro- ceeding from the coffin; and, on removing the cover- ing, it was found the woman had come to life again. She had been supposed dead for three days.' The case of Colonel Townsend, however, is much more extraordinary than either of the above mentioned. This gentleman possessed the remarkable faculty of throwing himself into a trance at pleasure. The heart ceased, apparently, to throb at his bidding, respiration seemed at an end, his whole frame assumed the icy chill and rigidity of death ; while his face became col- ourless and shrunk, and his eye fixed, glazed, and ghastly : even his mind ceased to manifest itself ; for during the trance it was utterly devoid of conscious- ness as his body of animation. In this state he would remain for hours, when these singular phenomena wore away, and he returned to his usual condition. Medi- cal annals furnish no parallel to this extraordinary case. Considered whether in a physiological or metaphysical point of view, it is equally astonishing and inexplicable. A variety of stories are related of people having had circumstances revealed to them in a trance, of which they were ignorant when awake : most of these tales have their origin in fiction, although there is no reason why they may not be occasionally true ; as the mind, instead- of being in torpor, as is very generally the case, may exist in a state analogous to that of dreaming, and may thus, as in a common dream, have long forgotten events impressed upon it. The following case exhibits a very singular instance, in which the usual characteristic—a suspension of the mental faculties—was wanting. It seems to have been a most complete instance of suspended volition, wherein the mind was active, while the body refused to obey its impulses, and continued in a state of apparent death. , ' A young lady, an attendant on the Princess----, after having been confined to her bed, for a great lemnh of time, with a violent nervous disorder, was at last, to all appearance, deprived of life. Her lips were quite pale, her face resembled the countenance of a dead per- son, and the body grew cold. ' She was removed from the room in which she died, was laid in a coffin, and the day of her funeral fixed on. The day arrived, and, according to the custom of the country, funeral songs and hymns were sung before the door. Just as the people were about to nail on the lid of the coffin, a kind of perspiration was observed to ap- pear on the surface of her body. It grew greater every moment; and at last a kind of convulsive motion was observed in the hands and feet of the corpse. A few minutes after, during which time fresh signs of return- ing life appeared, she at once opened her eyes and ut- tered a most pitiable shriek. Physicians were quickly procured, and in the course of a few days she was con- siderably restored, and is probably alive at this day. N ' The description which she gave of her situation is extremely remarkable, and forms a curious and authen- tic addition to psychology. * Mentor. PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 39 ' She said it seemed to her, as if in a dream, that she was really dead ; yet she was perfectly conscious of all that happened around her in this dreadful state. She distinctly heard her friends speaking and lamenting her death, at the side of her coffin. She felt them pull on the dead-clothes, and lay her in it. This feeling pro- duced a mental anxiety, which is indescribable. She tried to cry, but her soul was without power, and could not act on her body. She had the contradictory feel- ing as if she were in her body, and yet not in it, at one and the same time. It was equally impossible for her to stretch out her arm, or to open her eyes, or to cry, although she continually endeavored to do so. The internal anguish of her mind was, however, at its ut- most height when the funeral hymns began to be sung, and when the lid of the coffin was about to be nailed on. The thought that she was to be buried alive, was the one that gave activity to her soul, and caused it to operate on her corporeal frame.'* The following is different from either of the forego- ing ; I have given it on account of its singularity, al- though it does not altogether come under the denomi- nation of trance. ' George Grokatzhi, a Polish soldier, deserted from his regiment in the harvest of the year 1677. He was discovered, a few days after, drinking and making merry in a common ale-house. The moment he was appre- hended, he was so much terrified, that he gave a loud shriek, and was immediately deprived of the power of speech. When brought to a court martial, it was im- possible to make him articulate a word ; nay, he then became as immovable as a statue, and appeared not to be conscious of any thing that was going forward. In the prison, to which he was conducted, he neither ate nor drank. The officers and priests at first threatened him, and afterwards endeavored to soothe and calm him, but all their efforts were in vain. He remained senseless and immovable. His irons were struck off', and he was taken out of the prison, but he did not move. Twenty days and nights were passed in this way, during which he took no kind of nourishment: he then gradually sunk and died.'t It would be out of place to enter here into a detail of the medical management of the first mentioned varie- ties of suspended animation, such as drowning, stran- gulation, &c, &c. ; and with regard to the treatment of trance, properly so called, a very few words will suffice. If we have reason to suppose that we know the cause of the affection, that, of course, must be removed when- ever practicable. We must then employ stimuli to arouse the person from his torpor, such as friction, the application of sternutatories and volatile agents to the nostrils, and electricity. The latter remedy is likely to prove a very powerful one, and should always be had recourse to when other means fail. I should think the warm bath might be advantageously employed. When even these remedies do not succeed, we must trust to time. So long as the body does not run into decay, after a case of suspended animation arising without any very obvious cause, interment should not take place ; for it is possible that life may exist, although, for the time being, there is every appearance of its utter ex- tinction. By neglecting this rule, a person may be in- terred alive ; nor can there be a doubt that such dread- ful mistakes have occasionally been committed, espe- cially in France, where it is customary to inter the body twenty-four hours after death. Decomposition is the only infallible mark that existence is at an end, and that the grave has triumphed. CHAPTER XIV. VOLUNTARY WAKING DREAMS. The young and the imaginative are those who in- * ' Psychological Magazine,' vol. v. part iii. page 15 } Bonetus, ' Medic Seplenlrion.' lib. i. sec. xvi. cap. 6. dulge most frequently in waking dreams. The scenes which life presents do not come up to the desires of the heart; and the pencil of fancy is accordingly em- ployed in depicting others more in harmony with its own designs. Away into the gloomy back-ground goes reality with its stern and forbidding hues, and forward, in colours more dazzling than those of the rainbow, start the bright and airy phantoms of imagination. ' How often,' observes Dr Good,* ' waking to the roar of the midnight tempest, while dull and gluttonous in- dolence snores in happy forgetfulness, does the ima- gination of those who are thus divinely gifted mount the dizzy chariot of the whirlwind, and picture evils that have no real existence; now figuring to herself some neat and thrifty cottage where virtue delights to reside, she sees it swept away in a moment by the tor- rent, and despoiled of the little harvest just gathered in; now following the lone traveller in some narrow and venturous pathway, over the edge of the Alpine precipices, where a single slip is instant destruction, she tracks him alone by fitful flashes of lightning ; and at length, struck by the flash, she beholds him tumbling headlong from rock to rock, to the bottom of the dread abyss, the victim of a double death. Or possibly she takes her stand on the jutting foreland of some bold terrific coast, and eyes the foundering vessel straight below ; she mixes with the spent and despairing crew; she dives into the cabin, and singles out, perhaps from the rest, some lovely maid, who, in all the bloom of re- covered beauty, is voyaging back to her native land from the healing airs of a foreign climate, in thought just bounding over the scenes of her youth, or panting in the warm embraces of a father's arms.' Such are waking dreams ; and there are few who, at some happy moment or other, have not yielded to their influence. Often under the burning clime of India, or upon the lonely banks of the Mississippi, has the stranger let loose the reins of his imagination, calling up before him the mountains of his own beloved country, his native streams, and rocks, and valleys, so vividly, that he was transported back into the midst of them, and lived over again the days of his youth. Or the waking dream may assume a more selfish character. If the individual pines after wealth, his mind may be filled with visions of future opulence. If he is young and unmarried, he may conjure up the form of a lovely female, may place her in a beautiful cottage by the banks of sorqe roman- tic stream, may love her with unfathomable affection, and become the fondest and most happy of husbands. The more completely a person is left to solitude, the more likely is his imagination to indulge in such fan- cies. We seldom build castles in the air in the midst of bustle, or when we have any thing else to think of. Waking dreams are the luxuries of an otherwise un- employed mind—the aristocratic indulgences of the in- tellect. As people get older and more coversant with life in all its diversified features, they are little inclined to indulge in such visions. They survey events with the eye of severe truth, amuse themselves with no im- practicable notions of fancied happiness, and are in- clined to take a gloomy, rather than a flattering, view of the future. With youthful and poetical minds, how- ever, the case is widely different. Much of that por- tion of then existence, not devoted to occupation, is a constant dream. They lull themselves into temporary happiness with scenes which they know only to exist in their own imagination ; but which are nevertheless so beautiful, and so much in harfnony with every thing their souls desire, that they fondly clasp at the illusion, and submit themselves unhesitatingly to its spell. These curious states of mind may occur at any time; but the most common periods of their accession are shortly after lying down, and shortly before getting up. Men, especially young men, of vivid, sanguine, imagina- tive temperaments, have dreams of this kind almost * Book of Nature, vol. iii. p. 422. 40 PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. every morning and night. Instead of submitting to the sceptre of sleep, they amuse themselves with creatine- a thousand visionary scenes. Though broad awake, their judgment does not exercise the slightest sway, and fancy is allowed to become lord of the ascendant. Poets are notorious castle-builders, and poems are, in fact, merely waking dreams—at least their authors were under the hallucination of such dreams while com- posing. Milton's mind, during the composition of Paradise Lost, must have existed chiefly in the state of a sublime waking dream; so must Raphael's, while painting the Sistine Chapel; and, Thorwaldson's, while designing the triumphs of Alexander. In waking dreams, whatever emotion prevails has a character of exaggeration, at least in reference to the existing con- dition of the individual. He sees every thing through the serene atmosphere of imagination, and imbues the most trite circumstances with poetical colouring. The aspect, in short, which things assume, bears a strong resemblance to that impressed upon them by ordinary dreams,' and differs chiefly in this, that, though verging continually on the limits of extravagance, they seldom transcend possibility. CHAPTER XV. SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS. Of the various faculties with which man is endowed, those which bring him into communication with the material world, constitute an important class. The or- gans of these faculties—termed perceptive—are situ- ated in the middle and lower parts of the forehead. Their function is to perceive and remember the exist- ence, phenomena, qnalities, and relations of external objects. Individuality takes cognizance of the exist- ence of material bodies ; Eventuality, of their motions or actions ; Form, of their shape ; Size, of their mag- nitude and proportions ; Weight, of the resistance which they offer to a moving or restraining power ; Colour- ing, of their colours ; and Locality, of their relative position. Time and Number perceive and remember , duration and numbers ; Language takes cognizance of artificial signs of feeling and thought; and Order de- lights in regularity and arrangement. In ordinary cir- cumstances, the mode of action of these organs is this. If any object—a horse for example—be placed before us, the rays of light reflected from its surface to our eye, form a picture of the animal upon the retina or back part of that organ. This picture gives rise to what, for want of more precise language, is called an impression, which is conveyed by the optic nerve to the cerebral organs already mentioned ; and by them, in reality, the horse is perceived. The eye and optic nerve, it will be observed, do no more than transmit the impression from without, so as to produce that state of the internal organs which is accompanied by what is termed perception or sensation. When the horse is withdrawn, the impression still remains, to a certain extent, in the brain ; and though the animal is not ac- tually perceived, we still remember its appearance, and can almost imagine that it is before us. This faint semi-perception is called an idea, and differs from sen- sation only in being less vivid. The brain is more highly excited when it perceives a sensation,,than when an idea only is present ; because, in the former case, there is applied, through the medium of the senses, a stimulus from without, which, in the latter case, is .not present. If, however, the brain be brought by internal causes to a degree of excitement, which, in general, is the result only of external impressions, ideas not less vivid than sensations ensue; and the individual has the same consciousness as if an impression were trans- mitted from an actual object through the senses. In other words, the brain, in a certain state, perceives ex- ternal bodies ; and any cause which induces that state, gives rise to a like perception, independently of the usual cause—the piesence of external bodies them- selves. The chief of these internal causes is inflam- mation of the brain : and when the organs of the per- ceptive faculties are so excited—put into a state simi- lar to that which follows actual impressions from with- out—the result is a series of false images or sounds, which are often so vivid as to be mistaken for realities. During sleep, the perceptive organs seem to be pecu- liarly susceptible of such excitement. In dreaming, for instance, the external world, is inwardly represented to our minds with all the force of reality : we speak and hear as if we were in communication with actual exist- ences. Spectral illusions are phenomena strictly analo- gous ; indeed, they are literally nothing else than in- voluntary waking dreams. In addition to the occasional cause of excitement of the perceptive organs above alluded to, there is another, the existence of which is proved by numerous facts, though its mode of action is somewhat obscure. I al- lude to a large development of the organ of Wonder. Individuals with such a development are both strongly inclined to believe in the supernaturality of ghosts, and peculiarly liable to be visited by them. Tins organ is large in the head of Earl Grey, and he is said °to be haunted by the apparition of a bloody head. Dr Gall mentions, that in the head of Dr Jung Stilling, who saw visions, the organ was very largely developed. ■ A gentleman who moves in the best society in Paris, once asked Gall to examine his head. The doctor's first re- mark was, ' You sometimes see visions, and believe in apparitions.' The gentleman started from this in astonish- ment, and said that he had frequent visions : but never till that moment had he spoken on the subject to any human being, through fear of being set down as ab- surdly credulous. How a large development of Won- der produces the necessary excitement of the perceptive organs is unknown, but the fact seems indisputable. In former times, individuals who beheld visions, in- stead of ascribing them to a disordered state of the brain, referred them to outward impressions, and had a false conviction of the presence of supernatural beings. Hence the universal belief in ghosts which in these periods prevailed, even among the learned, and from which the illiterate are not yet entirely exempt. We read in history of people being attended by fa- miliar spirits ; such was the case with Socrates in an- cient, and with the poet Tasso, in modern times : their familiar spirits were mere spectral illusions. ' At Bi- saccio, near Naples,' says Mr Hoole, in his account of the illustrious author of the Jerusalem Delivered,' Man- so had an opportunity of examining the singular effects of Tasso's melancholy, and often disputed him con- cerning a. familiar spirit which he pretended conversed with him : Manso endeavoured in vain to persuade his friend that the whole was the illusion of a disturbed imagination ; but the latter was strenuous in maintain- ing the reality of what he asserted, and to'convince Manso, desired him to be present at one of the myste- rious conversations. Manso had the complaisance to meet him the next day, and while they were engao-ed in discourse, on a sudden he observed that Tasso kept his eyes fixed on a window, and remained in a manner immovable ; he called him by his name, but received no answer ; at last Tasso cried out, 'There is the friendly spirit that is come to converse with me ; look ' and you will be convinced of all I have said.' Manso heard him with surprise ; he looked, but saw nothing except the sunbeams darting through the win- dow ; he cast his eyes all over the room, but could perceive nothing ; and was just going to ask where the pretended spirit was, when he heard Tasso speak with great earnestness, sometimes putting questions to the spirit, sometimes giving answers • delivering the whole PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 41 in such a pleasing manner*and in such elevated ex- pressions, that he listened with admiration, and had not the least inclination to interrupt him. At last the uncom- mon conversation ended with the departure of the spirit, as appeared by Tasso's own words, who, turning to Manso, asked him if his doubts were removed. Manso was more amazed than ever ; he scarce knew what to think of his friend's situation, and waived any farther conversation on the subject.' The visions of angels, and the communications from above, with which religious enthusiasts are often im- pressed, arise from the operation of spectral illusions. They see forms and hear sounds which have no exist- ence ; and, believing in the reality of such impressions, consider themselves highly favored by the almighty. These feelings prevailed very much during the perse- cutions in Scotland. Nothing was more common than for the Covenanter by the lonely hill side to have what he supposed a special message from God, and even to see the angel who brought it, standing before him, and encouraging him to steadfastness in his religious prin- ciples. Much of the crazy fanaticism exhibited by the disciples of Campbell and Irving, undoubtedly arises from a similar cause; and it is probable that both of these individuals see visions and hear supernatural voices, as well as many of their infatuated followers. Various causes may so excite the brain as to produce these phantasmata, such as great mental distress, sleeplessness, nervous irritation, religious excitement, fever, epilepsy, opium, delirium tremens, excessive study, and dyspepsia. I have known them to arise without the apparent concurrence of any mental or bodily distemper. I say apparent, for it is very evident there must be some functional derangement, however much it may be hidden from observation. An ingeni- ous friend has related to me a case of this kind which occurred in his own person. One morning, while ly- ing in bed broad awake, and, as he supposed, in perfect - health, the wall opposite to him appeared to open at its junction with the ceiling, and out of the aperture came a little uncouth, outlandish figure, which descended from the roof, squatted upon his breast, grinned at him maliciously, and seemed as if pinching and pummelling his sides. This illusion continued for some time, and with a timorous subject might have been attended with bad consequences ; but he referred it at once to some disordered state of the stomach under which he imagined he must have labored at the time, althongh he had no direct consciousness of any such derangement of this organ. The same gentleman has related to me the case of one of his friends which attracted much notice at the tune it happened, from the melancholy circum- stance that attended it. It is an equally marked in- stance of hallucination arising without the individual being conscious of any physical cause by which it might be occasioned. It is as follows :— Mr H. was one day walking along the street, appar- ently in perfect health, when he saw, or supposed he saw his acquaintance, Mr C, walking before him. He called aloud to the latter, who, however, did not seem to hear him, but continued moving on. Mr H. then quickened his pace for the purpose of overtaking him ; the other increased his also, as if to keep ahead of his pursuer, and proceeded at such a rate that Mr H. found it impossible to make up to him. This continued for some time, till, on Mr C. coming to. a gate he opened it, passed in, and slammed it violently in Mr H.'s face. Confounded at such treatment, the latter instantly opened the gate, looked down the long lane into which it led, and, to his astonishment, no one was visible. Determined to unravel the mystery, he went to Mr C.'s house • and what was his surprise when he learned that he was confined to his bed, and had been so for several days. A week or two afterwards, these gentle- men chanced to meet in the house of a common friend, when Mr H. mentioned the circumstance, and told Mr C. jocularly that he had seen his wraith, and that, as a natural consequence, he would soon be a dead man. The person addressed laughed heartily, as did the rest of the company, but the result turned out to be no laughing matter; for, in a very few days, Mr C. was attacked with putrid sore throat, and died ; and within a very short period of his death Mr H. was also m the grave. Some of the most vivid instances of spectral illusion are those induced by opium. Several of the ' English Opium-Eater's' visions were doubtless of this nature. Dr Abercrombie relates a striking instance of the kind which occurred to the late Dr Gregory. ' He had gone to the north country by sea to visit a lady, a near re- lation, in whom he felt deeply interested, and who was in an advanced state of consumption. In returning from the visit, he had taken a moderate dose of lauda- num, with the view of preventing sea-sickness, and was lying on a couch in the cabin, when the figure of the lady appeared before him in so distinct a manner that her actual presence could not have beerfmore vivid. He was quite awake, and fully sensible that it was- a phantasm produced by the opiate, along with his intense mental feeling; but he was unable by any effort to banish the vision.'* Indeed, any thing on which the mind dwells excessively, may by exciting the perceptive organs, give rise to spectral illusions. It is to this cir- cumstance that the bereaved husband sees the image of a departed wife, to whom he was fondly attached— that the murderer is haunted by the apparition of his victim—and that the living with whom we are familiar. seem to be presented before our eyes, although at a distance from us. Dr Conolly relates the case of a gentleman, who, when in danger of being wrecked near the Eddystone lighthouse, saw the images of his whole family. These illusive appearance sometimes occur during convalescence from diseases. In the summer of 1832, a gentleman in Glasgow, of dissipated habits, was seized with cholera, from which he recovered. His re- covery was unattended with any thing particular, ex- cept the presence of a phantasmata—consisting of hu- man" figures about three feet high, neatly dressed in pea-green jackets, and knee-breeches of the same color. Being a person of a superior mind, and knowing the cause of the illusions, they gave him no alarm, although he was very often haunted by them. As he advanced in strength the phantoms appeared less frequently, and diminished in size, till at last they were not taller than his finger.. One night, while seated alone, a multitude of these Lilliputian gentlemen made their appearance on his table, and favored him with a dance ; but being at the time otherwise engaged, and in no mood to enjoy such an amusement, he lost temper at the unwelcome intiusion of his pigmy visiters, and striking his fist vio- lently upon the table, he exclaimed in a violent passion, ' Get about your business you little impertinent rascals ! What the devil are you doing here? when the whole assembly instantly vanished, and he was never troubled with them more. It generally happens that the figures are no less visi- ble when the eyes are closed than when they are open. An individual in the west of Scotland, whose case is related in the Phrenological Journal,! whenever he shut his eyes or was in darkness, saw a procession move before his mind as distinctly as it had previously done before his eyes. Some years ago, a farmer from the neighbourhood of Hamilton, informed me, with feelings of great horror, that he had frequently the vision of a hearse drawn by four black horses, which were driven by a black driver. Not knowing the source of this il- lusion he was rendered extremely miserable by it; and, to aggravate his unhappiness, was regarded by the ig- norant country people, to whom he told his story, as * Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, p. 357. t Vol. ii.p. 111. 42 PIIILOSOPH Y OF SLEEP. having been guilty of some grievous crime. This vi- sion was apparent to him chiefly by night, and the effect was the same whether his eyes were open or shut. Indeed, so little are these illusions dependant on sight, that the blind are frequently subject to therii. A re- spected elderly gentleman, a patient of my own, who was afflicted with loss of sight, accompanied by violent headaches, and severe dispeptic symptoms, used to have the image of a black cat presented before him, as distinctly as he could have seen it before he became blind. He was troubled with various other spectral appearances, besides being subject to illusions of sound equally remarkable ; for he had often the consciousness of hearing music so strongly impressed upon him, that it was with difficulty his friends could convince him it was purely ideal. Considering the age in which Bayle lived, his notions of the true nature of spectral illusions were wonderfully acute and philosophical. Indeed, he has so well de- scribed the theory of apparitions, that the modern phre- nological doctrine on this point seems little more than an expanded version of his own. ' A man,' says he, ' would not only be very rash, but also very extrava- gant, who should pretend to prove that there never was any person that imagined he saw a spectre ; and I do not think that, the most obstinate and extravagant unbelievers have maintained this. All they say, comes to this: that the persons who have thought themselves eye-witnesses of the apparition of spirits had a disturbed imagination. They confess that there are certain places in our brain that, being affected in a certain manner, excite the image of an object which has no real existence out of ourselves, and make the man, whose brain is thus modified, believe he sees, at two paces distant, a frightfuh^peetre, a hobgoblin, a threatening phantom. The like happens in the heads of the most incredulous, either in their sleep, or in the paroxysms of a violent fever. Will they maintain after this, that it is impossible for a man awake, and not in a delirium, to receive, in certain places of his brain, an impression almost like that which, by the law of nature, is con- nected with the appearance of a phantom.' In one of Shenstone's Essays, entitled ' An Opinion of Ghosts,' the same theory is clearly enunciated. It is worthy of remark, that the phenomena of appa- ritions are inconsistent with the prevalent theory that the brain is a single organ, with every part of which each faculty is connected. Were this theory sound, the same cause that vivifies the perceptive faculties must also vivify, or excite to increased action, the pro- pensities, sentiments, and reflecting powers. This, however, is by no means the case. The case of Nicolai, the Prussian bookseller, which occurred in the beginning of 1791, is one of the most remarkable instances of spectral illusion on record. ' I saw,' says he, ' in a state of mind completely sound, and—after the first terror was over—with perfect calm- ness, for nearly two months, almost constantly and in- voluntarily, a vast number of human and other forms, and even heard their voices, though all this was merely the consequence of a diseased state of the nerves, and an irregular circulation of the blood.' ' When I shut my eyes, these phantoms would sometimes vanish en- tirely, though there were instances when I beheld them with my eyes closed ; yet when they disappeared on such occasions, they generally returned when I opened my eyes. I conversed sometimes with my physician and my wife of the phantasms which at the moment surrounded me ; they appeared more frequently walking than at rest; nor were they constantly present. They frequently did not come for some time, but always re- appeared for a longer or shorter period either singly or in company, the latter, however, being most frequently the case. I generally saw human forms of both sexes ; but they usually seemed not to take the smallest notice of each other, moving as in a market-place, where all are eager to press through the crowd; at times, how- ever, they seemed to be transacting business with each other. I also saw, several times, people on horseback, dogs, and birds. All these phantasms appeared to me in their natural size, and as distinct as if alive, exhibi- ting different shades of carnation in the uncovered parts. as well as in different colours and fashions in their dresses, though the colours seemed somewhat paler than in real nature ; none of the figures appeared par- ticularly comical, terrible, or disgusting, most of them being of an indifferent shape, and some presenting a pleasing aspect.' Perhaps the most remarkable visionary, of whom we have any detailed account, was Blake the painter. This extraordinary man not only believed in his visions, but could often call up at pleasure whatever phantasms he wished to see ; and so far from their being objects of annoyance, he rather solicited than wished to avoid their presence. He was in the habit of conversing with angels, demons, and heroes, and taking their likenesses ; for they proved most obedient sitters, and never show- ed any aversion to allow him to transfer them to paper. ' His mind ;' says Mr Cunningham, ' could convert the most ordinary occurrences into something mystical and supernatural.' "Did you ever see a fairy's funeral, madam V he once said to a lady who happened to sit by him in company, 'never, sir !' was the answer. 'I have,' said Blake, ' but not before last night. I was walking alone in my garden, there was great stillhess among the branches and flowers, and more than com- mon sweetness in the air ; I heard a low and pleasant sound, and knew not whence it came. At last I saw the broad leaf of a flower move, and underneath I saw a procession of creatures of the size and color of the green and grey grasshoppers, bearing a body laid out on a rose leaf, which they buried with songs, and then disappeared. It was a fairy funeral.'' On being asked to draw the likeness of Sir William Wallace, that hero immediately stood before him, and he commenced tak- ing his portrait. ' Having drawn for some time with the same care of hand and steadiness of eye, as if a livincr sitter had been before him, Blake stoped suddenly and said, ' I cannot finish him—Edward the first has step- ed in between him and me.' 'That's lucky,' said his friend, ' for I want the portrait of Edward too.' Blake took another sheet of paper and sketched the features of Plantagenet; upon which his majesty politely van- ished, and the artist finished the head of Wallace.'* The greater part of his life was passed in beholding visions and in drawing them. On one occasion he saw the ghost of a flea and took a sketch of it. No conception was too strange or incongruous for his wild imagination, which totally overmastered his judgment, and made him mistake the chimeras of an excited brain for realities. What is called the Second sight originated, in most cases, from spectral illusions; and the seers of whom we so often read, were merely individuals visited by these phantoms. The Highland mountains, and the wild lawless habits of those who inhabited them, were peculiarly adapted to foster the growth of such impres- sions in imaginative, minds ; and, accordingly, nothing was more common than to meet with persons who not only fancied they saw visions, but, on the streno-th of this belief, laid claim to the gift of prophesy. ° The more completely the mind is abstracted from the bus- tle of life; the more solitary the district in which the individual resides ; and the more romantic and awe-in- spring the scenes that pass before his eyes, the greater is his tendency to see visions, and to place faith in what he sees. A man, for instance, with the peculiar tem- perament which predisposes to see, and believe in, spec- tral illusions, is informed that his chieftain and clan have set out on a dangerous expedition. Full of the subject, he forces their images before him—sees them engaged * Cunningham's Lives of the British Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. ii., Life of Blake. ' PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 43 in fight—beholds his chieftian cut down by the clay- more of an enemy—the clansmen routed and dispers- ed, their houses destroyed, their cattle carried off. This vision he relates to certain individuals. If, as is not unlikely, it is borne out by the event, his prophecy is spread far and wide, and looked upon as an instance of the second sight; while, should nothing happen, the story is no more thought of by those to whom it was com- municated. In some instances, it is probable that the accidental fulfilment of an ordinary dream was regard- ed as second sight. The belief in fairies, no doubt, had also its origin in spectral illusions. In the days of ignorance and su- perstition nothing was more easy than for an excited brain to conjure up those tiny forms, and see them per- form their gambols upon the greensward beneath the light of the moon. The dimensions of the figures which are exhibited in spectral illusions vary exceedingly. Sometimes they appear as miniatures, sometimes of the size of life, at other times of colossal proportions. The same differ- ences apply to their colour. In one case they are pale, misty, transparent; in another black, red, blue, or green. Sometimes we have them fantastically clothed in the costume of a former age, sometimes inthatof our own. Now they are represented grinning, now weeping, now in smiles. ' White or grey Ghosts,' says Mr Simpson ' result from excited Form, with quiescent Colouring, the transparent cobweb effect being colourless. Pale spectres, and shadowy yet coloured forms, are the effect of partially excited Colouring. Tall ghosts and dwarf goblins, are the illusions of over-excited Size.'1 The jabbering of apparitions arises from an excited state of that part of the brain which gives us cogni- zance of sounds. This explanation seems highly pro- bable, or rather quite satisfactory. There are points, however, which it is likely no one will ever be able to explain. Why, for instance should the disordered brain conjure up persons and faces rather than trees and houses ? why should a ghost be dressed in red rather than blue, and why should it smile rather than grin 1 These are minutiae beyond the reach of in- vestigation at least in the present state of. our know- ledge. Mr Simpson, in the second volume of the Phrenolo- gical Journal, has published a case of spectral illusion, which, for singularity and interest, equals any thing of the same kind which has hitherto been recorded. The subject of it was a young lady under twenty years of age, of good family, well educated, free from any su- perstitious fears, in perfect bodily health and of sound mind. She was early subject to occasional attacks of such illusions, and the first she remembered was that of a carpet which descended in the air before her, then vanished away. After an interval of some years, she began to see human figures in her room as she lay wide awake in bed. These figures were whitish or rather grey, and transparent like coheeb, and generally above the size of life. At this time she had acute headaches, very singularly confined to one small spot of the head. On being asked to indicate the spot, she touched, with her fore-finger and thumb, each side of the root of the nose, the commencement of the eye- brows, and the spot immediately over the top of the nose, the ascertained seats of Form, Size, and Lower Individuality. On being asked if the pain was confined to these spots, she answered that some time afterwards it extended to the right and left, along the eyebrows, and a little above them, and completely round the eyes, which felt as if they would burst from their sockets. On this taking place the visions varied. The organs of Weight, Colouring, Order, Number, and Locality, were affected, and the phantasmata assumed a change corresponding to the irritated condition of these parts. • The whitish or cobweb spectres assumed the natural colour of the objects, but they continued often to pre- sent themselves, though not always, above the size of life.' ' Colouring being over-excited, began to occas- sion itsspecifie and fantastical illusions. Bright spots, like stars on a back ground, filled the room in the dark, and even in day-light; and sudden, and sometimes gradual, illumination of the room during the night took place, so that the furniture in it became visible. In- numerable balls of fire seemed one day to pour like a torrent out of one of the rooms of the house down the staircase. On one occasion, the pain between the eyes, and along the lower ridge of the brow, struck her suddenly with great violence—when, instantly, the room filled with stars and bright spots. On attempt- ing, on that occasion, to go to bed, she said she was conscious of an inability to balance herself, as if she had been tipsy, and she fell, having made repeated ef- forts to seize the bed-post ; which, in the most unac- countable manner eluded her grasp by shifting its place, and also by presenting her with a number of bed- posts instead of one. If the organ of Weight situated between Size and Colouring, be the organ of the in- stinct to preserve, and power of preserving equilibrium, it must be the necessary consequence of the derange- ment of that organ to overset the balance of the per- son. Over-excited Number we should expect to pro- duce multiplication of objects, and the first experience she had of this illusion, was the multiplication of the bed-posts, and subsequently of any inanimate object she looked at.' 1 For nearly two years, Miss S. L. was free from her frontal headaches, and—mark the coincidence—untrou- bled by visions or any other illusive perceptions. Some months ago, however, all her distressing symptoms re- turned in great aggravation, when she was conscious of a want of health. The pain was more acute than be- fore along the frontal bone, and round and in the eye- balls ; and all the organs there situated recommenced their game of illusion. Single figures of absent and deceased friends were terribly real to her, both in the day and in the night, sometimes cobweb, but generally coloured. She sometimes saw friends on the street, who proved phantoms when she approached to speak to them ; and instances occurred, where, from not having thus satisfied herself of the illusion, she affirmed to such friends that she had seen them in certain places, at certain times, when they proved to her the clearest alibi. The confusion of her spectral forms now dis- tressed her.—(Order affected.) The oppression and perplexity were intolerable, when figures presented themselves before her in inextricable disorder, and still more when they changed—as with Nicolai—from whole figures to parts of figures—faces and half faces, and limbs—sometimes of inordinate size and dreadful de- formity. One instance of illusive Disorder, which she mentioned, is curious ; and has the farther effect of exhibiting (what cannot be put in terms except those of) the derangement of the just perception of gravita- tion or equilibrium. (Weight.) One night as she sat in her bed-room, and was about to go to bed, a stream of spectres, persons' faces, limbs, in the most shocking confusion, seemed to her to pour into her room from the window, in the manner of a cascade ! Although the cascade continued, apparently, in rapid descending mo- tion ; there was no accumulation of figures in the room, the supply unaccountably vanishing, after having formed the cascade. Colossal figures are her frequent visit- ers. (Size.y In the fifth volume of the Phrenolagical Journal, page 319, a case is mentioned where the patient was tortured with horrid faces glaring at her, and approach - ing close to her in every possible aggravation of hor- ror. ' She was making a tedious recovery in child-bed when these symptoms troubled her. Besides the forms, which were of natural colour, though often bloody, she was perplexed by their variation in size, from colossa' to minute. She saw also entire human figures, but 44 PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. they were always as minute as pins, or even pin-heads, and were in great confusion and numbers.' ' She de- scribed the pain which accompanied her illusions, viz. acute pain in the upper part or root of the nose, the seat of the organ of Form, and all along the eyebrows, which takes in Individuality, Form, Size, Weight, Order and Number.' In the same volume, page 430, Mr Levison relates, that on asking an individual who saw apparitions, whether or not he felt pain at any part of his head, he answered, ' that every time before he experienced this peculiar power of seeing figures, he invariably felt pain in and between his eyes, and, in short, all over the eyebrows.' It does not appear, how- ever, that pain is universally felt in such cases in the lower part of the forehead. Dr Andrew Combe in- forms me that, so far as he has observed, the pain, when it does exist, is more frequently in the exciting organ, generally "Wonder. Spectral illusions constitute the great pathognomonic sign of delirium tremens. In this disease 4hey are usu- ally of a horrible, a disgusting, or a frightful nature ; the person being irresistibly impressed with the notion that reptiles, insects, and all manner of vermin are crawling upon him, which he is constantly endeavoring to pick off—that he is.haunted by hideous apparitions —that people are in the room preparing to murder and rob him, and so forth. In the following case, with which I have been favored by Dr Combe, the illusive appearances were of a more pleasing kind than gene- rally happen. ' In a case,' says he, ' of delirium tre- mens in an inn-keeper, about whom I was consulted, the spectral illusions continued several days, and had a distinct reference to a large and active cerebullum, (the organ of Amativeness) conjoined with Wonder. The man refused t(|-allow me to look at a blister which had been placed between his shoulders, 'because he could not take off his coat before the ladies who were in the room V When I assured him that there was nobody in the room, he smiled at the joke, as he conceived it to be, and, in answer to my questions, described them as' several in number, well dressed, and good-looking. At my request he rose up to shake hands with them, and was astonished at finding them elude his grasp, and his hand strike the wall. This, however, convinced him that it was an illusion, and he forthwith took off his coat, but was unwilling to converse longer on the subject. In a few days the ladies vanished from his sight.' Spectral illusions are more frequently induced by fever than by any other cause. Indeed, the premoni- tory stages of most fevers are accompanied by illusive appearances of one kind or another, such as luminous bodies, especially when the eyes are shut, hideous faces, streaks of fire, &c.; and in the advanced stages, they are not uncommon. A medical ffiend has informed me, that when ill of fever in Portugal, he was terribly harrassed by the vision of a soldier, whose picture was hanging in the room. Removing the picture failed to dissipate the illusion, which did not disappear till he was conveyed to another apartment. Dr Bostock, while under a febrile attack, was visited by spectral il- lusions of an unusual kind. The following are the par- ticulars of his case, as described by himself:— ' I was laboring,' says he, ' under a fever, attended with symptoms of general debility, especially of the nervous system, and with a severe pain of the head, which was confined to a small spot situated above the right temple. After having passed a sleepless night, and being reduced to a state of considerable exhaustion, I first perceived figures presenting themselves before me, which I immediately recognised as similar to those described by Nicolai, and upon which, as I was free from delirium, and as they were visible about three days and nights with little intermission, I was able to make my observations. There were two circumstance which appeared to me very remarkable ; first, that the spectral appearances always followed the motion of the eyes; and, secondly, that the objects which were the best de- fined and remained the longest visible, were such as I had no recollection of ever having previously seen. For about twenty-four hours I had constantly before me a human figure, the features and dress of which were as distinctly visible as that of any real existence and of which, after an interval of many years, I still retain the most lively impression ; yet, neither at the time nor since have I been able to discover any person whom I had previously seen who resembled it. ' During one part of this disease, after the disap- pearance of this stationary phantom, I had a very sin- gular and amusing imagery presented to me. It ap- peared as if a number of objects, principally human faces or figures on a small scale, were placed before me, and gradually removed like a succession of me- dallions. °They were all of the same size, and appeared to be all situated at the same distance from the face. After one had been seen for a few minutes, it became fainter, and then another, which was more vivid, seemed to be laid upon it or substituted in its place,, vvhich, in its turn, was superseded by a new appearance. Duririg all this succession of scenery, I do not recollect that, in a single instance, I saw any object with which I had been previously acquainted, nor, as far as I am aware, were the representations of any of those objects, with which my mind was the most occupied at other times, presented to me; they appeared to be invariably new creations, or, at least, new combinations of. which I could not trace the original materials.'* The following very curious instance, is not less in- teresting : the subject of - it was a member of the English bar. 'In December, 1823, A. was confined to his bed by inflammation of the chest, and was supposed by his medical attendant to be in considerable danger. One night, while unable to sleep from pain and fever, he saw sitting on a chair, on the left side of his bed, a fe- male figure which he immediately recognised to be that of a young lady who died about two years before. His first feeling was surprise, and perhaps a little alarm; his. second, that he was suffering from delirium. With this impression, he put his head under the bed-clothes, and, after trying in vain to sleep, as a test of the sound- ness of his mind, he went through a long and compli- cated process of metaphysical reasoning. He then peeped out and saw the figure in the same situation and position. He had a fire, but would not allow a candle or nurse in the room. A stick was kept by his side to knock for the nurse when he required her at- tendance. Being too weak to move his body, he en- deavored to touch the figure with the stick, but, on a real object being put on the chair, the imaginary one disappeared, and was not visible again that night. The next day he thought of little but the vision, and expected its return without alarm, and with some pleasure. He was not disappointed. It took the same place as before, and he employed himself in ob- servations. When he shut his eyes or turned his head, he ceased to see the figure; by interposing his hand he could hide part of it; and it was shown, like any mere material substance, by the rays of the fire which fell upon and were reflected from it. As the fire de- clined it became less perceptible, and as it went out, invisible. A similar appearance took place on several other nights; but it became less perceptible, and its visits less frequent, as the patient recovered from his fever. ' He says the impressions on his mind were always pleasing, as the spectre looked at him with calmness and regard. He never supposed it real; but was un- able to account for it on any philosophical principles within his knowledge. ' In the autumn of 1825. A.'s health was perfectly * Bostock's Physiology, vol. iii. p. SOi. PHILOSOPHY restored, and he had been free from any waking vision for nearly eighteen months. Some circumstances oc- curred which produced in him great mental excitement. One morning he dreamed of the figure, which stood by his side in an angry posture, and asked for a locket which he usually wore. He awoke and saw it at the toilet, with the locket in its hand. He rushed out of bed and it instantly disappeared. During the next six weeks its visits were incessant, and the sensations which they produced were invariably horrible. Some years befortf, he had attended the dissection of a wo- man in a state of rapid decomposition. Though much disgusted at the time, the subject had been long for- gotten ; but was recalled by the union of its putrescent body with the spectre's features. The visits were not confined to the night, but frequently occurred while several persons were in the same room. They were repeated at intervals during the winter ; but he was able to get rid of them by moving or sitting in an erect position. Though well, his pulse was hard, and generally from 90 to 100.'* In March, 1829, during an attack of fever, accom- panied with violent action in the brain, I experienced illusions of a very peculiar kind. They did not appear except when the eyes were shut or the room perfectly dark ; and this was one of the most distressing things connected with my illness ; for it obliged me either to keep my eyes open or to admit more light into the chamber than they could well tolerate. I had the con- sciousness of shining and hideous faces grinning at me in the midst of profound darkness, from which they glared forth in horrid and diabolical relief. They were never stationary, but kept moving in the gloomy back- ground : sometimes they approached within an inch or two of my face: at other times, they receded several feet or yards from it. They would frequently break into fragments, which after floating about would unite —portions of one face coalescing with those of another, and thus forming still more uncouth and abominable images. The only way I could get rid of those phan- toms was by admitting more light into the chamber and opening my eyes, when they instantly vanished ; but only to reappear when the room was darkened or the eyes closed. One night, when the fever was at its height, I had a splendid vision of a theatre, in the arena of which Ducrow, the celebrated equestrian, was per- forming. On this occasion, I had no consciousness of a dark back ground like to that on which the monstrous images floated ; but every thing was gay, bright, and beautiful. I was broad awake, my eyes were closed, and yet I saw with perfect distinctness the whole scene going on in the theatre, Ducrow performing his wonders of horsemanship—and the assembled multitude, among whom I recognized several intimate friends ; in short, the whole process of the entertainment as clearly as if I were present at it. When I opened my eyes the whole scene vanished like the enchanted palace of the necro- mancer ; wmen I closed them, it as instantly returned. But though I could thus dissipate the spectacle, I found it impossible to get rid of the r- .companying music. This was the grand march in the Opera of Aladdin, and was performed by the orchestra with more superb and imposing effect, and with greater loudness, than I ever heard it before ; it was executed, indeed, with tre- mendous energy. This air I tried every effort to dis- sipate, by forcibly endeavouring to call other tunes to mind, but it was in vain. However completely the vi- sion might be dispelled, the music remained in spite of every effort to banish it. During the whole of this sin- gular state, I was perfectly aware of the illusiveness of my feelings, and, though labouring under violent head- ache, could not help speculating upon them and endeav- oring to trace them to their proper cause. This theatri- cal vision continued for about five hours ; the previous delusions for a couple of days. The whole evidently * Phrenological Journal, vol. v. p. 210. OF SLEEP. 45 proceeded from such an excited state of some parts of the brain, as I have already alluded to. Ideality, Won- der, Form, Colour, and Size, were all in intensely ac- tive operation, while the state of the reflecting organs was unchanged. Had the latter participated in the gen- eral excitement, to such an extent as to be unable to rectify the false impressions of the other organs, the case would have been one of pure delirium. Spectral illusions can only be cured by removing the causes which give rise to them. If they proceed from the state of the stomach, this must be rectified by means of purgatives and alterative medicines. Should ple- thora induce them, local or general blood-letting and other antiphlogistic means are requisite. If they ac- company fever of delirium tremens, their removal will, of course, depend upon that of these diseases. Arising from sleeplessness, they .will sometimej^be cui#d by anodynes ; and from nervous irritation, bythe shower- bath and tonics. Where they seem to arise without any apparent cause, our attention should be directed to the state of the bowels, and blood-letting had re- course to CHAPTER XVI. REVERIE. A state of mind somewhat analogous to that which prevails in dreaming, also takes place during reverie. There is the same want of balance in the faculties, which are almost equally ill regulated, and disposed to indulge in similar extravagancies. Reverie proceeds from an unusual quiescence of^the brain, and inability of the mind to direct itself strongly to any one point : it is often the prelude of sleep- There is a defect in the attention, which, instead of being fixed on one sub- ject, wanders over a thousand, and even on these is feebly and ineffectively directed. We sometimes see this while reading, or, rather, while attempting to read. We get over page after page, but the ideas take no hold whatever upon us ; we are in truth ignorant of what we peruse, and the mind is either an absolute blank, or vaguely addressed to something else. This feeling every person must have occasionally noticed in taking out his watch, looking at it, and replacing it without knowing what the hour was, In like manner he may hear what is said to him without attaching any meaning to the words, which strike his ear, yet com- municate no definite idea to the sensorium. Persons in this mood may, from some ludicrous ideas flashing across them, burst into a loud fit of laughter during ser- mon or at a funeral, and thus get the reputation of being either grossly irreverent or deranged. That kind of re- verie in which the mind is nearly divested of all ideas, and approximates closely to the state of sleep, I have some- times experienced while gazing long and intently upon a river. The thoughts seem to glide away, one by one? upon the surface of the stream, till the mind is emptied of them altogether. In this state we see the glassy vo- lume of the water moving past us, and hear its mur- mur, but lose all power of fixing our attention defini- tively upon any subject : and either fall asleep, or are aroused by some spontaneous reaction of the mind, or by some appeal to the senses sufficiently strong to star- tle us from our reverie. Grave, monotonous, slowly repeated sounds—as of a mill, a waterfall, an Eolian harp, or the voice of a dull orator, have the effect of lulling the brain into repose, and giving rise to a plea- sing melancholy, and to calmness and inanity of mind. Uniform gentle motions have a tendency to produce a similar state of reverie, which is also very apt to ensue in the midst of perfect silence ; hence, in walking alone in the country, where there is no sound to distract our meditations, we frequently get into this state. It is 46 PHILOSOPHY OF Si^UF. also apt to take place when we are seated without books, companions, or amusement of any kind, by the hearth on a winter evening, especially when the fire is begin- ning to burn out, when the candles are becoming faint for want of topping, and a dim religious light, like that filling a hermit's cell from his solitary lamp, is diffused over the apartment. This is the situation most favour- able for reveries, waking dreams, and all kinds of brown study, abstraction, ennui, and hypochondria. Reverie has been known to arise from the mind sus- taining temporary weakness, in consequence of long and excessive application to one subject. It is also, I believe, frequently induced by forcing young people to learn what they dislike. In this case, the mind, finding it impossible to direct itself to the hated task, goes wandering off in another direction, and thus acquires a habit of inattention, which, in extreme cases, may ter- minate in imbecility. Sometimes reveries arise from peculiarity of temperament, either natural or induced by mental or bodily weakness. The best regulated minds and strongest bodies, may, however, and, in fact, often have, occasional attacks: but when the feeling grows into a habit, and is too much indulged in, it is apt to injure the usefulness of the individual, and impair the whole fabric of his understanding. ' It is,' says. Dr Good, ' upon the faculty of attention that every other faculty is dependent for its vigour and expansion : with- out it, the perception exercises itself in vain; the mem- ory can lay up no store of ideas ; the judgment draw forth no comparisons; the imagination must become blighted and barren; and where there is no attention whatever, the case must necessarily verge upon fatuity.' I conceive that persons in whom the organ of Concen- trativencss is very small, are peculiarly apt to fall into reverie. The following is a remarkable instance of reverie arising from excessive application :—The subject of it was Mr Spalding, a gentleman well known as an emi- nent literary character in Germany, and much respected by those who knew him. The case was drawn up by himself, and published in the Psychological Magazine. ' I was this morning engaged with a great number of people, who followed each other quickly, and to each of whom I was obliged to give my attention. I was also under the necessity of writing much ; but the sub- jects, which were various and of a trivial and uninter- esting nature, had no connexion the one with the oth- er ; my attention, therefore, was constantly kept on the stretch, and was continually shifting from one subject to another. At last it became necessary that I should write a receipt for some money I had received on ac- count of the poor. I seated myself and wrote the two first words, but in a moment found that I was incapa- ble of proceeding, for I could not recollect the words which belonged to the ideas that were present in my mind. I strained my attention as much as possible, and tried to write one letter slowly after the other, al- ways having an eye to the preceding one, in order to observe whether they had the usual relationship to each other; but I remarked, and said to myself at the time, that the characters I was writing were not those which I wished to write, and yet I could not discover where the fault lay. I therefore desisted, and partly by broken words and syllables, and partly by gesture, I made the person who waited for the receipt understand he should leave me. For about half an hour there reigned a kind of tumultuary disorder in my senses, in which I was incapable of remarking any thing very particular, ex- cept that one series of ideas forced themselves involun- tarily on my mind. The trifling nature of these thoughts I was perfectly aware of, and was also conscious that I -made several efforts to get rid of them, and supply their -•place with better ones, which lay at the bottom of my 60ul. I endeavoured as much as lay in my power, con- sidering the giezt crowd of confusfed images wlpch pre- sented themselves to my mind, to recall my principles of religion, of conscience, and of future expectation; these I found equally correct, and fixed as before. There was no deception in my external senses, for I saw and knew every thing around me ; but I could not free myself from the strange ideas which existed in my head. I endeavoured to speak in order to discover whether I was capable of saying any thing that was connected ; but although I made the greatest efforts of attention, and proceeded, with the utmost caution, I perceived that I uniformly spoke other words than those I intended. My soul was at present as little master of the organs of speech, as it had been before of my hand in writing. Thank God, this state did not continue very long, for, in about half an hour, my head began to grow clearer, the strange and tiresome ideas became less vivid and turbulent, and I could command my own thoughts with less interruption. ' I now wished to ring for my servant, and desire him to inform my wife to come to me; but I found it still necessaiy to wait a little longer to exercise myself in the right pronunciation of the few words I had to say : and the first half hour's conversation I had with her was, on my part, preserved with a slow and anxious circumspection, until at last I gradually found myself as clear and serene as in the beginning of the day, all that now remained was a slight headache. I recollect- ed the receipt I had begun to write, and in which I knew I had blundered; and upon examining it, I ob- served to my great astonishment, that instead of the words fifty dollars, being one half year's rate, which I ought to have written, the words were fifty dollars through the salvation of Bra—, with a break after it, for the word Bra was at the end of ft line. I cannot recollect any perception, or business which I had to transact, that could, by means of an obscure influence, have produced this phenomenon.' Reverie, when proceeding, as in this case, from ex- cessive application, will seldom be difficult of cure ; the removal of the exciting cause will of itself naturally constitute the remedy. When it arises from such a defect in education as that already mentioned, the cure will be more difficult, although even then it is not al- ways impracticable. In such a case, the person should be strongly directed to those subjects in which he feels most interest, and never be made to study what he has not a positive liking for. Active employment and gay and pleasant society, may effect much in restoring the intellectual balance. In all cases, whatever, he should never be left long alone ; as nothing has such a tenden- cy to foster this state of mind as solitude. CHAPTER XVII. ABSTRACTION. Abstraction, or absence of mind, has been confounded with reverie, but it is, in reality, a different intellectual operation ; for as in the latter a difficulty is experienced in making the mind bear strongly on any one point, in the former its whole energies are concentrated towards a single focus, and every other circumstance is, for the time, utterly forgotten. Such was the case with Sir Isaac Newton when, in a fit of absence, he made a to- bacco stopper of the lady's finger, and with Archimedes, who remained unconscious and unmoved during the noise and slaughter'of captured Syracuse. Though, in general, abstraction is easily broken by outward im- pressions, there have been instances where it has been so powerful as to render the individuals labouring un- der it insensible to pain. Pinel in his Nosographie Philosophique speaks of a priest who in a fit of mental absence was unconscious of the pain of burning; and Cardan brought himself into such a state ias to be in- sensible to all external impression. PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 47 Some men are naturally very absent; others acquire this habit from particular pursuits, such as mathema- tics, and other studies demanding much calculation. Indeed, all studies which require deep thinking, are apt to induce mental absence, in consequence of the sen- sorial power being drained from the general circum- ference of the mind, and directed strongly to a certain point. This draining, while it invigorates the organ of the particular faculty towards which the sensorial en- ergy is concentrated, leaves the others in an inanimate state, and incapacitates them from performing their pro- per functions; hence persons subject to abstraction are apt to commit a thousand ludicrous errors; they are perpetually blundering—committing a multitude of petty, yet harmless offences against established rules, and for ever getting into scrapes and absurd situations. Nothing is more common than for an absent man to take the hat of another person instead of his own, to give away a guinea for a shilling, to mistake his lodg- ings, forget invitations, and so forth. When the fit of abstraction is very strong, he neither hears what is said to him, nor sees what is passing around. n<-* i-ncss, . 34 CHAPTER XI. Pack Protracted Sleep, ...... 35 CHAPTER XII. Sleep Fiom Cold,......36 CHAPTER XIII. Trance, . .... 37 CHAPTER XIV. Voluntary Waking Dreams, . . . 39 CHAPTER XV Spectral Illusions, ..... 40 CHAPTER XVI. Reverie, ....... 43 CHAPTER XVII. Abstraction, . . 46 CHAPTER XVIII. Sleep of Plants, ...... 48 CHAPTER XIX. Genera' M.ms.'ein -u' o' SI — j> ... 49 INDEX TO THE PHILOS PAGE Abercrombie, Dr, case related by, of the veri- fication of a dream, - 22 ---------------, his, distinction between dreaming and insanity .... 9 Absorption, increased by sleep, - 6 Animal life, ------ 3 .------magnetism, - - - - - 30 Aristotle, his account of the sleep of fishes, - 4 Armitage, Elizabeth, a great sleeper, - - 35 Awaking, phenomena of, 9 • Bacon the sculptor, anecdote of, - - - 48 Barclay, Captain, anecdote of, 8 Barry, curious calculation by, - 52 Baxter, his theory of dreaming, - 9 Bayle. his account of spectral illusions, - 42 Beattie, Dr, facts concerning, ... 11—12 Bed. directions with regard to the, 45 Bell, Sir Charles, on the eneuresis infantum, 51 Bichat, his division of life, - 3 Birds, sleep of, ----- - 4 Blacklock," Dr, the peculiarity of his dreams, 17 .------------, curious anecdote of, - 29 Blake the painter, extraordinary case of, - 42 Blindness, dreams modified by, ... 16 Boerhaave, anecdote of, 5 ■--------, case, spoken of by, - 35 Bostock, Dr,Jfts case, .... 44 Bourde'aux, Archbishop of, case of somnambu- lism related by, ----- 29 Brain, effects of its size in reference to sleep, 4 ----, determination of blood to the, induces sleep, ------- 5 Browne, Mr W. A. F., cases by, - - 31 Buffon denies any affinity between hyberna- tion and sleep, ----- 37 Buzareiuguez, M. Giron de, experiments by, to produce dreams at will, - 11 Byron, Lord, scene described by, in his ' Para- sina,' ------- 31 Cabanis, fact concerning, - 13 Cssar, Julius, the apparition of, which appeared to Brutes, accounted for, ... 22 Caligula tormented by frightful dreams, - 17 Cardan, fact concerning, - 47 Carmichael, Mr, his explanation of the pro- cess of waking, ----- 9 ■--------■-----^, supposes sleep to be the pe- riod when assimilation goes on in the brain, 9 Castel, Mr, observation by, 7 Catalepsy, - ■ - - - - - 20 Chapelain, M, operation performed by, upon a lady under the magnetic influence, - - 30 Children, dreams of,.....10 ------—, sleep of,.....8 --------, directions regarding the sleep of, - 50 Circulation, its rapidity diminished by sleep, - 6 Cold produces sleep, ----- 36 ----, sleep from, - - - - 36 PHY OF SLEEP. PAGE. Coleridge, Mr, account by, of the origin of Cubla Khan, ------ 13 Colquhoun,Mr,the Parisian report translated by, 30 Combe, Mr, cases mentioned by, - - - 23 ---------, his remarks on concentrativeness, 47 Combe, Dr, case of spectral illusion by, - 44 Concentrativeness, effect of a large develop- ment of, in inducing abstraction, - - 47 Condorcet, fact concerning, - - - 13 Conolly, Dr, case related by, ... 41 Cook, Captain, extracted from his ' Voyages,' 37 Cullen, his remark on the effect of monotony, 5 Culpepper, Lord trial of his brother, - - 29 Cumin, Dr, case related by, - 16 Currie Dr, his remarks on the visions of hypo- chondria, - - - - - - 11 Darwin, Dr, fact noticed by, - - - 15 -------------, method recommended by, to prevent attacks of nightmare, - - - 27 -------------, case of sleep-talking described by, - -.....• 32 Daymare, - - 27 Dead, visions of the, - - - - 16 Deafness, dreams modifiedjby, - - - 17 Democritus, his theory of areaming, - - 9 Dogs, dreams of, ----- \q Donne, Dr, his case of spectral illusion, - 22 Dreaming, - - - - - - 10 Dreams, causes of, - - - - - 11 ------, management of, 19 ■------, prophetic power of, - 20 Drowning, - - - - - - 12 Drowsiness, ------ 24 Drunkenness, analogy between it and dreaming, 16-18 ------------, nature of the dreams induced by, 18 Dubrie, Mr, anecdote of, - 29 Dull sermon, the effec.tof a, in inducing sleep, ' 5 Dumbness, case of, cured by a frightful dream, 14 Dyce, Dr, remarkable case of somnambulism, related by, - - - - - - 3] Early rising, benefits of, 52 Edwards, Dr, fact by, concerning hyberna- ting animals,.....- 36 Ellicot, Major remarkable case related by - 31 Fairies, belief in accounted for, - - - 42 Familiar spirits, ------ 40 Fanshawe, Lady, case from her ' Memoirs,' - 21 Fish, sleep of, ----- . 4 Forestus, case of daymare related by, - 27 Fcetus, state of, - - - - . . ■ g Franklin, Dr, his case of somnambulism, - 29 ------------, amusing calculation by, - 53 ------■------, Captain, fact stated by, con- cerning the freezing of fish, - 36 Gall, Dr, cases of somnambulism related by, - 29 --------on spectral illusions, - 40 George III, method employed to procure him sleep,.......34 Georget on the sleep of woman, - 52 Gooch, curious case related by, - - - g INDEX TO THE PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. 55 page Good, Dr, his remarks on sleep-walking, - 28 -----------, his description ot waking dreams, 39 Goose, the, a very light sleeper, - - - 4 Gordon, John, Esq, case mentioned by, - 8 Gregory, Dr, case of,.....41 Grey Earl, haunted by a bloody head, - - 49 Griffith's, Mrs, verification of her dreams, - 21 Crokatzhi, George, case of, - 39 Guilty?dreams of the,.....19 Habit, sleep modified by, - - 7 "*■ Hamilton, Dr Robert, anecdote of, 47 Hare sleeps with its eyes open, - - - 7 -»i Harvest, Dr George, anecdotes of, - 48 Haycock, Dr, delivered sermons and prayers in his sleep, ------ 31 Hazlitt, his opinion, that in sleep we are al- ways thinking, disputed, - - - 9 Heat produces sleep, ----- 4 Hildesheim, his remark concerning nightmare, 26 Hoffbauer, case related, by him of murder oc- casioned by a frightful dream, - - - 14 Hogarth anecdote of, - 47 Hood, Mr, incongruous dream related by, - 17 Hoole,Mr, his account of Tasso's familiar spirit, 40 Horror, a frequent accompaniment of dreams, 15 Horses dream, ------ 10 Hunter, Dr A, his remark on the position of women, ------ 50 Hybernation, ------ 36 Hypochondriac, visions of the, • - - 12 Illusion of dreams, ----- 17 Insanity, curious case of, occasioned by a fright- ful dream, ------ 14 --------, analogy between it and dreaming, 10-18 Irish porter, case of, - - - - - 16 Kubla Khan composed by MrtSColeridge in a dream, ------- 13 Lady of Nismes, extraordinary case of, - 35 Levison, Mr, case of spectral illusion by, - 44 Life, definition of, 3 Love as experienced in dreams, - - - 16 Lucretius, his theory of dreaming, - - 9 Lyall, Mary, a great sleeper, - 8-35 Lyttleton, Lord, case of, 22 M----, Miss, verification of her dream, - 20 Mackay, James, anecdote of, 8 Martinet, cases of somnambulism described by, 29 Meal, a heavy, induces sleep, ... 5 Moisture, torpor produced by a want of, - 36 Moivre, De, a sleeper, ... - 8 Murder, case of, occasioned by a frightful dream, ------- 14 Narcotics, the manner in which they induce sleep,.......5 --------, nature of the visions induced by, 11-18 Nervous energy, how its distribution occasions sleep, ------- 5 Newton, Sir Isaac, anecdotes of, - - 46-47 Nicolai, case of, ----- 42 Night, the time for sleep, - 3 Nightmare, ------ 24 Old age, sleep greatly modified in, - - 8-11 'Opium Eater,' extracts from his 'Confes- sions,' - - " " * - - 12—18 Organic life, ------ 3 Orvin, Elizabeth, a great sleeper, - - 8 Parr, Dr, remarks on dreaming by, - - 13 Parrot, the, said to dream, - - - - 10 Past and forgotten events renewed by dreams, 15 Perkins, Elizabeth, a great sleeper, - - 8-25 Perspiration increased by sleep, - Pichegru, General, curious fact concerning, Pillow, directions with regard to the, - Plants, sleep of, - Polydori, Dr, subject to nightmare, Positions assumed in sleep, - - - 6—' Pritchard, Dr, case of somnambulism spoken of by, ------- Profoundness of sleep, varieties of, Protracted sleep, - Pulse, state of the, in sleep, ... Quin, the celebrated player, fact concerning, Reid, Dr, curious facts concerning, Reverie| - - - - - - - R----d of Bowland, case of, Rush, Dr, his distinction between dreaming and delirium, ------ Russel, Lady, narrowly escaped premature in- terment, ------ Sanctorius, his remarks on perspiration, Schidmaizig, Bernard, case of, - Scott, Sir Walter, remarks by, on the case of Lord Lyttleton,..... ---------------; curious case of a verified dream related by him in the Antiquary, Scott, executed for murder, case of, Sergeant, James, Mr, his will, Second Sight accounted for, ... Secretions, effect of sleep on the, Sensdrial power, the, - - - Sherigny, case of, - Simpson, Mr, case of spectral illusion related by, Sinelair, Sir John, his remarks on early rising, Sleep of plants, - Sleep, general management of, - Sleep-walking, - Sleep in general, - Sleep-talking, - Sleeplessness, - - - - Sleep from cold, - - - " V " Sluogard, picture of the, - - - * - Snoring, ------ Somnambulism, analogy between it and mad- ness, - - - - -■ r- Spalding, Mr, his case, - - Spectral Illusions, . - - - - Squire, Archdeacon, case related by, Stewart Dougal, Mr, facts related by, - Stewart, Mr, the pedestrian, statement by, Stilling, Jung, Dr, saw visions, ... Stupor, difference between it and sleep, Suetonius, his picture of the tyrant Caligula, Surprise, absence of, in dreams, - Tasso, his familiar spirit, - - . - Time, perception of curiosity affected by dream- ing, ...... Townsend, Colonel, extraordinary case of, Trance, ------- Vision, effect of sleep on the organs of, - Voluntary walking dreams, - - - - Waller, Mr, cases of dreaming illusion related by,.....- - JWarton, Mr, anecdote of, - Wasse, Mr, on the effect of rest upon the sta- ture, ------- Welsh girl, curious case of a, - Wonder, effect of a large developement of, in inducing apparitions, ... - Xenophon, his recommendation to the Greek troops, ...... Yawning, ------ Young lady, dream related by a, - PAGE 6 ~ 8 49 48 27 7-50 29 7 25 6 8 8-10 45 23 10 38 6 14 22 23 23 52 42 6 5 38 43 53 48 49 2S 4 32 33 3S 52 6 28 4& 40 14 11 20 *0 3 19 15 40 12 38 37 6 39 17-26 48- 9 15 40 37 5 18 ANATOMY DRUNKENNESS. ROBERT MACNISH, AUTHOR OF "THE PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP," AND MEMBER OF THE FACULTY OF PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS OF GLASGOW. FROM THE FIFTH GLASGOW EDITION. HARTFORD: WILLIAM ANDRUS 1842. ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. ADVERTISEMENT. In preparing the present edition of the Anatomy of Drunkenness for the press, I have spared no pains to ren- der the work as complete as possible. Some parts have been re-written, some new facts added, and several inaccuracies, which had crept into the former edition, rectified. Altogether, I am in hopes that this impres- sion will be considered an improvement upon its predecessors, and that no fact of any importance has been overlooked or treated more slightly than it deserves. R. M. September 20th, 1834. CHAPTER I. preliminary observations. Drunkenness is not, like some other vices, peculiar to modern times. It is handed down,to us from 'hoar antiquity;' and, if the records of the antediluvian era were more complete, we should probably find that it was not unknown to the remotest ages of the world. The cases of Noah and Lot, recorded in the sacred writings, are the earliest of which tradition or history has left any record ; and both occurred in the infancy of society. Indeed, wherever the grape flourished, in- ebriation prevailed. The formation of wine from this fruit, was among the earliest discoveries of man, and the bad consequences thence resulting, seem to have been almost coeval with the discovery. Those regions whose ungenial latitudes indisposed them to yield the vine, gave birth to other products which serv- ed as substitutes ; and the inhabitants rivalled or sur- passed those of the south in all kinds of Bacchanalian indulgence—the pleasures of drinking constituting one of the most fertile themes of their poetry, in the same manner as, in other climates, they §a\e inspiration to the souls of Anacreon and Hafiz. Drunkenness has varied greatly at different times and among different nations. There can be no doubt that it prevails more in a rude than in a civilized society. This is so much the case, that as men get more refin- ed, the vice will gradually be found to soften down, and assume a less revolting character. Nor can there be a doubt that it prevails to a much greater extent in northern than in southern latitudes.* The nature of the climate renders this inevitable, and gives to the hu- man frame its capabilities of withstanding liquor: hence a quantity which scarcely ruffles the frozen cur- rent of a Norwegian's blood, would scatter madness * In making this observation, I have only in view the countries north of the equator ; for as we proceed to the south of that line, the vice increases precisely in the same manner as in the oppo- site direction. To use the words of Montesquieu, ' Go from the equator to our pole, and you will find drunkenness increasing to- pother with the degree of latitude. Go from the same equator to the opposite pole, and you will find drunkenness travelling gouth, as on this side it travels towards the north.' and fever into the brain of the Hindoo. Even in Eu- rope, the inhabitants of the south are far less adapted to sustain intoxicating agents than those of the north. Much of this depends upon the coldness of the climate, and much also upon the peculiar physical and moral frame to which that coldness gives rise. The natives, of the south are a lively, versatile people ; sanguine in their temperaments, and susceptible, to an extraordi- nary degree, of every impression. Their minds seem to inherit the brilliancy of their climate, and are rich with sparkling thoughts and beautiful imagery. The northern nations are the reverse of all this. With more intensity of purpose, with greater depth of reasoning powers, and superior solidity of judgment, they are in a great measure destitute of that sportive and creative brilliancy which hangs like a rainhow over the spirits of the south, and clothes them in a perpetual sunshine of delight. The one is chiefly led by the heart, the other by the head. The one possesses the beauty of a flower-garden, the other the sternness of the rock, mix- ed with its severe and naked hardihood. Upon consti- tutions so differently organized, it cannot be expected that a given portion of stimulus will operate with equal power. The airy inflamable nature of the first, is easily roused to excitation, and manifests feelings which the second does not experience till he has par- taken much more largely of the stimulating cause. On this account, the one may be inebriated, and the other remain comparatively sober upon a similar quantity. In speaking of this subject, it is always to be remembered that a person is not to be considered a drunkard because he consumes a certain portion of liquor ; but because what he does consumes produces certain effects upon his system. The Russian, therefore, may take six glasses a-day, and be as temperate as the Italian who takes four, or the Indian who takes two. But even when this is acceded to, the balance of sobriety will be found in favour of the south: the inhabitants there not only drink less, but are, bona fide, more seldom intoxicated than the others. Those who have contrasted London and Paris, may easily verify this fact; and those who have done the same to the cities of Moscow and Rome, can bear still stronger testimony. Who ever heard of an Englishman sipping cau sucree, and treating his ANAtomY OF friends-to a glass of lemonade1? Yet such things are common in France ; and, of all the practices of that country, they are those most thoroughly visited by the contemptuous malisons of John Bull. It is a common belief that wine was the only inebri- ating liquor known to antiquity ; but this is a mistake. Tacitus mentions the use of ale or beer as common among the Germans of his time. By the Egyptians, likewise, whose country was ill adapted to the cultiva- tion of the grape, it was employed as a substitute for wine. Ale was common in the middle ages; and Mr Park states that very good beer is made, by the usual process of brewing and malting, in the interior of Af- rica. The favourite drink of our Saxon ancestors was ale or mead. Those worshippers of Odin were so no- toriously addicted to drunkenness, that it was regarded as honourable rather than otherwise ; and the man who could withstand the greatest quantity was looked upon with admiration and respect,: whence the drunken songs of the Scandinavian scalds ; whence the glories of Valhalla, the fancied happiness of whose inhabitants consisted in quaffing draughts from the skulls of their enemies slain in battle. Even ardent spirit, which is generally supposed to be a modern discovery, existed from a very early period. It is said to have been first made by the Arabians in the middle ages, and in all likelihood may lay claim to a still remoter origin. Al- cohol was known to the alchymists as early as the mid- dle of the twelfth century, although the process of pre- paring it was by them, at that time, kept a profound secret. The spirituous liquor called arrack, has been manufactured in the island of Java, as well as in the continent of Hindostan, from time immemorial. Brandy appears to have been known to Galen, who recommends it for the cure of voracious appetite ;* and its distilla- tion was common in Sicily at the commencement of the fourteenth century. As to wine, it was so common in ancient times as to have a tutelar god appropriated to it: Bacchus and his companion Silenus are as house- hold words in the mouths of all, and constituted most important features of the heathen mythology. We have all heard of the Falernian and Campanian wines, and of the wines of Cyprus and Shiraz. Indeed, there is reason to believe that the ancients were in no respect inferior to the moderns in the excellence of their vinous liquors, whatever they may have been in the variety. Wine was so common in the eastern nations, that Ma- homet, foreseeing the baleful effects of its propagation, forbade it to his followers, who, to compensate them- selves, had recourse to opium. The Gothic or dark ages seem to have been those in which it was least common : in proof of this it may be mentioned, that in 1298 it was vended as a cordial by the English apothe- caries. At the present day it is little drunk, except by the upper classes, in those countries which do not natnrally furnish the grape. In those that do, it is so cheap as to come within the reach of even the lowest, t In speaking of drunkenness, it is impossible not to be struck with the physical and moral degradation which it has spread over the world. Wherever intoxicating liquors become general, morality has been found on the decline. They seem to act like the simoom of the de- sert, and scatter destruction and misery around their path. The ruin of Rome was owing to luxury, of which indulgence in wine was the principal ingredient. * Good's Study of Medicine, vol. i. p. 113, 2d edit. t The quantity of wine raised in France alone is almost incred- ible. The vineyards in that country are said to occupy five mil- lions of acres, or atwenty-sixth part of the whole territory. Paris alone consumes more than three times the quantity of wine con- sumed in the British Isles. It is true that much of the wine drank in the French capital is of a weak quality, being used as a sub- stitute for small beer. But after every allowance is made, enough remains to show clearly, if other proofs were wanting, how much use of wine here is restricted by our exorbitant duties. It would be well for the morals of this country if the people aban- doned the use of ardent spirits, and were enabled to resort to such wines as the French are in the habit of drinking. R RUNKENNESS. 59 Hannibal's army fell less by the arms of Scipio than by the wines of Capua ; and the inebriated hero of Mace- don after slaying his friend Clytus, and burning the palace of Persepolis, expired at last of a fit of intoxica- tion, in his thirty-third year. A volume might be writ- ten in illustration of the evil effects of dissipation ; but this is unnecessary to those who look carefully around them, *nd more especially to those who are conversant with the history of mankind. At the same time, when we speak of drunkenness as occurring in antiquity, it is proper to remark, that there were certain countries in which it was viewed in a much more dishonourable light than by any modern nation. The Nervii refused to drink wine, alleging that it made them cowardly and effeminate: these simple people had no idea of what by our seamen is called Dutch courage; they did not feel the necessity of elevating their narive valour by an artificial excitement. The ancient Spartans held ebri- ety in such abhorrence, that, with a view to inspire the rising generation with a due contempt of the vice, it was customary to intoxicate the slaves and exhibit them publicly in this degraded condition. By the Indians, drunkenness is looked upon as a species of insanity ; and, in their language, the word ramgam, signifying a drunkard, signifies also a madman. Both the ancients and moderns could jest as well as moralize upon this subject. ' There hangs a bottle of wine,' was the deri- sive exclamation of the Roman soldiery, as they pointed to the body of the drunken Bonosus, who, in a fit of despair, suspended himself upon a tree. ' If you wish to have a shoe of durable materials,' exclaims the face- tious Matthew Langsberg, ' you should make the upper leather of the mouth of a hard drinker—for that never lets in water.' If we turn from antiquity to our own times, we shall find little cause to congratulate ourselves upon any improvement. The vice has certainly diminished among the higher orders of society, but there is every reason to fear that, of late, it has made fearful strides among the lower. Thirty or forty years ago, a land- lord did not conceive he had done justice to his guests unless he sent them from his table in a state of intoxi- cation. This practice still prevails pretty generally in Ireland and in the highlands of Scotland, but in other parts of the kingdom it is fast giving way : and it is to be hoped that the day is not far distant when greater temperance will extend to these jovial districts, and render their hospitality a little more consonant with prudence and moderation. The increase of drunken- ness among the lower classes may be imputed to vari ous causes, and chiefly to the late abandonment of part of the duty on rum and whiskey. This was done with a double motive of benefiting agriculture and com- merce, and of driving the ' giant smuggler' from the field. The latter object it has in agreat measure failed of effecting. The smuggler still plies his trade to a considerable ext#nt, and brings his commodity to the market with nearly the same certainty of acquiring pro- fit as ever. It would be well if the liquor vended to the poor possessed the qualities of that furnished by the contraband dealer ; but, instead of that, it is usually a vile compound of every thing spurious and pestilent, and seems expressly contrived for preying upon the vi- tals of the unfortunate victims who partake of it. The extent to which adulteration has been carried in all kinds of liquor, is indeed such as to interest every class of society. Wine, for instance, is often impregnated with alum and sugar* of lead, the latter dangerous in- gredient being resorted to by innkeepers and others, to take away the sour taste so common in bad wines. Even the colour of these liquids is frequently artificial; and the deep rich complexion so greatly admired by persons not in the secrets of the trade, is often caused, or at least heightened, by factitious additions, such as elder-berries, bilberries, red-woods, &c. Alum and sugar of lead are also common in spirituous liquors; 60 ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. ;nL in any cases, oil of vitriol, turpentine, and other materials equally abominable, are to be found in com- bination with them. That detestable liquor called British gin, is literally compounded of these ingredients: nor are malt liquors, with their multifarious narcotic ad- ditions, less thoroughly sophisticated or less detrimental to the health. From these circumstances, two conclu- sions must naturally be drawn; viz. that inebriating agents often contain elements of disease foreign to themselves; and that all persons purchasing them should endeavour to ascertain the state of their, purity, and employ no dealer whose honour and honesty are not known to be unimpeachable. Liquors, even in their purest state, arc too often injuriousto the constitution without the admixture of poisons.* The varieties of wine are so numerous as almost to defy calculation. Mr Brande, in his table, gives a list of no less than forty-four different kinds, and there are others which he has not enumerated. Ardent spirits are fewer in number, and may be mostly comprised un- der thenames of rum, gin, brandy, and whiskey. The first is the prevailing drink over the West Indies, North America, and such cities of Great Britain as are in- timately connected with these regions by commerce. The second is extensively used in Holland and Swit- zerland, the countries which principally furnish it, and has found its way pretty generally over the whole of Europe. The third is chiefly produced in Charente end Languedoc, and is the spirit most commonly found in the south. The fourth is confined in a great mea- sure to Ireland and Scotland, in which latter country the best has always been made. Of malt liquors we have many varieties. Britain, especially England, is the country which furnishes them in greatest perfection They are the natural drinks of Englishmen—the vinum Anglicorum, as foreigners have often remarked. Every town of any consequence in the empire has its brewery ; and in almost every one is there some difference in the quality of the liquor. Brown stout, London and Scotch porters, Burton, Dorchester, Edinburgh and Alloa ales, are only a few of the endless varieties of these widely- circulated fluids. Besides wines, ardent spirits, and malt liquors, there are many other agents possessing inebriating properties. Among others, the Peganum Harmala or Syrian rue, so often used by the sultan Solyman ; the Hibiscus Saldarissa, which furnishes the Indian bangue, and from which the Nepenthes of the ancients is supposed to have been made ; the Balsac, or Turkish bangue, found on the shores of the Levant; the Penang, or In- dian betle ; the Hyoscyamus Niger; and the Atropa Belladonna. In addition to these, and many more, there are opium, tobacco, Cocculus Indicus, and the innumerable tribes of liqueurs and ethers, together with other agents of a less potent nature, such as clary, dar- nel, and saffron. The variety of atamts capable of ex- erting drunkenness is indeed surprising, and in propor- tion to their number seems the prevalence of that fatal vice to which an improper use of them gives rise. CHAPTER II. CAUSES OF DRUNKENNESS. The causes of drunkenness are so obviotfs, that few authors have thought it necessary to point them out: we shall merely say a few words upon the subject. There are some persons who will never be drunkards, and others who will be so in spite of all that can be done to prevent them. Some are drunkards by choice, and others by necessity. The former have an innate and constitutional fondness for liquor, and drink con amore. Such men are usually of a sanguineous temperament, * See Aceum's Treatise on the Adulteration of Food; Child on Brewing Porter ; and Shannon on Brewing and Distillation. of coarse unintellectual minds, and of low and anima! propensities. They have, in general, a certain rigidity of fibre, and a flow of animal spirits which other people are without. They delight in the roar and riot of drinkino- clubs; and with them, in particular, all the miseries of life may be referred to the bottle. The drunkard by necessity was never meant by na ture to be dissipated. He is perhaps a person of amiable disposition, whom misfortune has overtaken, and who, instead of bearing up manfully against it, endeavours to drown his sorrows in liquor. It is an ex- cess of sensibility, a partial mental weakness, aii abso- lute misary of the heart, which drives him on. Drunk- enness, with him, is a consequence of misfortune ; it is a solitary dissipation preying upon him in silence. Such a man frequently dies broken-hearted, even be- fore his excesses have had time to destroy him by then own unassisted agency. Some become drunkards from excess of indulgence in youth. There are parents who have a common cus torn of treating their childern to wine, punch, am) other intoxicating liquors. This, in reality, is regu- larly bringing them up in an apprenticeship to drunken- ness. Others are taught the vice by frequenting drink ino- clubs and masonic lodges. These are the genuine academies of tippling. Two-thirds of the drunkards we meet with, have been there initiated in that love ol intemperance and boisterous irregularity which distin- guish their future lives. Men who are good singers are very apt to become drunkards and, in truth, most of them are so, more or less, especially if they have naturally much joviality or warmth of temperament. A fine voice to such men is a fatal accomplishment. Ebriety prevails to an alarming degree among the lower orders of society. It exists more in towns than in the country, and more among mechanics than hus- bandmen. Most of the misery to be observed among the working classes spring from this source. No per- sons are more addicted to the habit, and all its attendant vices than the pampered servants of the great. Inn- keepers, musicians, actors, and men who lead a rambling and eccentric life, are exposed to a similar hazard. Husbands sometimes teach their wives to be drunkards by indulging them in toddy and such fluids, every time they themselves sit down to their libations. Women frequently acquire the vice by drinking por- ter and ale while nursing. These stimulants are usually recommended to them from well-meant but mistaken motives, by their female attendants. Many fine young women are ruined by this pernicious practice. Their persons become gross, their milk unhealthy, and a foundation is too often laid for future indulgence in liquor. The frequent use of cordials, such as noyeau, shrub, kirsch-wasser, curacoa, and anissette, sometimes leads to the practice. The active principle of these liqueurs is neither more nor less than ardent spirits.* Among other causes, may be mentioned the exces- sive use of spiritous tinctures for the cure of hypo- chondria and indigestion. Persons who use strong tea, especially green, run the same risk. The latter species is singularly hurtful to the constitution, producing hysteria, heartburn, and general debility of the chylo- poetic viscera. Some of these bad effects are relieved for a time by the use of spirits ; and what was at first employed as a medicine, soon becomes an essential re- quisite. Certain occupations have a tendency to induce drunkenness. Innkeepers, recruiting-sergeants, pugi- lists, &c., are all exposed in a great degree to tempta- tion in this respect; and intemperance is a vice which may be very often justly charged against them. Com- mercial travellers, also, taken as a body, are open to the accusation of indulging too freely in the bottle, al- * Liqueurs often contain narcotic principles; therefore their use is doubly improper. ANATOMY OF D though I am not aware that they carry it to such excess as to entitle many of them to be ranked as drunkards. ' Well fed, riding from town to town, and walking to the houses of the several tradesmen, they have an em- ployment not only more agreeable, but more conducive to health than almost any other dependant on traffic. But they destroy tiOr constitutions by intemperance ; not generally by drunkenness, but by taking more li- quor than nature requires. Dining at the traveller's table, each drinks his pint or bottle of wine ; he then takes negus or spirit with several of his customers; and at night he must have a glass or (wo of brandy and water. Few commercial travellers bear the em- ploy for thirty years—the majority not twenty.'* Some waiters allege that unmarried women, espe- cially if somewhat advanced in life, are more given to liquor than those who are married. This point I am unable from my own observation to decide. Women who indulge in this way, are solitary dram-drinkers, and so would men be, had not the arbitrary opinions of the world invested the practice in them with much less moral turpitude than in the opposite sex. Of the two sexes, there can he no doubt that men are much the more addicted to all sorts of intemperance. Drunkenness appears to be in some measure heredi- tary. We frequently see it descending from parents to their children. This may undoubtedly often arise from bad example and imitation, but there can be little question that, in many instances at least, it exists as a family predisposition. Men of genius are often unfortunately addicted to drinking. Nature, as she has gifted them with greater powers than their fellows, seem also to have mingled with their cup of life more bitterness. There is a melancholy which is apt to come like a cloud over the imaginations of such characters. Their minds possess a susceptibility and delicacy of structure which unfit them for the gross atmosphere of human nature; wherefore, high talent has ever been distinguished for sadness and gloom. Genius lives in a world of its own : it is the essence of a superior nature—the loftier imaginings of the mind, clothed with a more spiritual and refined verdure. Few men endowed with such faculties enjoy the ordinary happiness of humanity. The stream of their lives runs harsh and broken. Melancholy thoughts sweep perpetually across their soul; and if these be heightened by misfortune, they are plunged into the deepest misery. To relieve these feelings, many plans have been adopted. Dr Johnson fled for years to wine under his habitual gloom. He found that the pangs were re- moved while its immediate influence lasted, but he also found that they returned with double force when that influence passed away. He saw the dangerous preci- pice on which he stood, and, by an unusual effort of volition, gave it over. In its stead he substituted tea ; and to this milder stimulus had recourse in his melan- choly. Voltaire and Fontenelle, for the same purpose, used coffee. The excitements of Newton and Hobbes were the fumes of tobacco, while Demosthenes and Haller were sufficiently stimulated by drinking freely of cold water. Such are the differences of constitu- tion. ' As good be melancholy still, as drunken beasts and beggars.' So says old Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, and there are few who will not subscribe to his creed. The same author quaintly, but justly re- marks, ' If a drunken man gets a child, it will never, likely, have a good brain.' Dr Darwin, a great authori- ty on all subjects connected with life, says, that he never knew a glutton affected with the gout, who was not at the same time addicted to liquor. He also ob- serves, 'it is remarkable that all the diseases from drinking spirituous or fermented liquors are liable to * Thackrah on the Effects of the Principal Arts, Tradc**n Professions, p. 83. NKENNESS. 61 become hereditary, even to the third generation, gradu- ally increasing, if the cause be continued, till the family becomes extinct.'* We need not endeavour to trace farther the remote causes of drunkenness. A drunkard is rarely able to recall the particular circumstances which made him so. The vice creeps, upon him insensibly, and he is involved in its fetters before he is aware. It is enough that we know the proximate cause, and also the certain conse- quences. One thing is certain, that a man who addicts himself to intemperance, can never be said to be sound in mind or body. The former is a state of partial in- sanity, while the effects of the liquor remain ; and the latter is always more or less diseased in its actions. CHAPTER III. PHENOMENA OF DRUNKENNESS^ The consequences of drunkenness are dreadful, but the pleasures of^etting drunk are certainly ecstatic. While the illusion lasts, happiness is complete; care and melancholy are thrown to the wind : and Elysium, with all its glories, descends upon the dazzled imagi- nation of the drinker. Some authors have spoken of the pleasure of being completely drunk; this, however, is not the most ex- quisite period. The time is when a person is neither 'drunken nor sober, but neighbor to both,' as Bishop Andrews says in his ' 'Ex—ale—tation of Ale.' The moment is when the ethereal emanations begin to float around the brain—when the soul is commencing to ex- pand its wings and rise from earth—when the tongue feels itself somewhat loosened in the mouth, and breaks the previous taciturnity, if any such existed. What are the sensations of incipient drunkenness 1 First, an unusual serenity prevails over the mind, and the soul of the votary is filled with a placid satisfaction. Bv degrees he is sensible of a soft and not unmusical humming in his ears, at every pause of the conversa- tion, tie seems, t# himself, to wear his head lighter than usual upon his shoulders. Then a species of ob- scurity, thinner than the finest mist,' passes before his eyes, and makes him see objects rather indistinctly. The lights begin to dance and appear double. A gayety and warmth are felt at the same time about the heart. The imagination is expanded, and filled with a thousand delightful images. He becomes loquacious, and pours forth, in enthusiastic language, the thoughts which are born, as it were, within him. Now comes a spirit of universal contentment with himself and all the world. He thinks no more of misery; it is dissolved in the bliss of the moment. This is the acme of the fit—the ecstacy is now perfect. As yet the sensorium is in tolerable order ; it is only shaken, but the capability of thinking with accuracy still remains. About this time, the drunkard pours out all the secrets of his soul. His qualities, good or bad, come forth without reserve ; and now, if at any time, the human heart may be seen into. In a short period, he is seized with a most inordinate propensity to talk nonsense, though he is perfectly conscious of doing so. He also commits many foolish things, knowing them to be foolish. The power of volition, that faculty which keeps the will subordinate to the judgment, seems to- tally weakened. The most delightful time seems to be that immediately before becoming very talkative. When this takes place, a man turns ridiculous, and his mirth, though more boisterous, is not so exquisite. At first the intoxication partakes of sentiment, but latterly, it becomes mere animal. After this the scene thickens. The drunkard's im- agination gets disordered with the most grotesque coa, * Botanic Garden. 62 ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. ceptions. Instead of moderating his drink, he pours it down more rapidly than ever; glass follows glass wi™ reckless energy. His head becomes perfectly giddy. The candles burn blue, or green, or yellow; and where there are perhaps only three on the table, he sees a dozen. According to his temperament, he is amorous, or musical, or quarrelsome. Many possess a most extraordinary wit; and a great flow of spirits is a general attendant. In the latter stages, the speech is thick, and the use of the tongue in a great measure lost. His mouth is half Open, and idiotic in the ex- pression; while his eyes are glazed, wavering, and watery. He is apt to fancy that he has offended some one of the company, and is ridiculously profuse with his apologies. Frequently he mistakes one person for another, and imagines that some of those before him are individuals who are, in reality, absent or even dead. The muscular powers are, all along, much affected: this indeed happens before any great change takes place in the mind, and goes on progressively increasing. He c?n no longer walk with steadiness', but totters from side to side. The limbs become powerless, and inade- quate to sustain his weight. He is, however, not al- Vvays sensible of any deficiency in this respect: and while exciting mirth by his eccentric motions, imagines that he walks with the most perfect steadiness. In at- tempting to run, he conceives that he passes over the grcund with astonishing rapidity. To his distorted eyes, all men, and even inanimate nature itself, seem to be drunken, while he alone is sober. Houses reel from side to side as if they had lost their balance ; trees and steeples nod like tipsy Bacchanals ; and the very earth seems to slip from under his feet, and leave him walking and floundering upon the air. The last stage of drunkenness is total insensibility. The man tumbles perhaps beneath the table, and is carried away in a state of stupor to his couch. In this condition he is said to be dead, drunk. When the drunkard is put to bed, let us suppose that his faculties are not totally absorbed in apoplectic stupor ; let us suppose that he still possesses conscious- ness and feeling, though these are both disordered; then begins ' the tug of war ;' %n comes the misery which is doomed to succeed his previous raptures. No sooner is his head laid upon the pillow, than it is seized with the strongest throbbing. His heart beats quick and hard against the ribs. A noise like the distant fall of a cascade, or rushing of a river, is heard in his ears : sough—sough—sough, goes the sound. His senses now become more drowned and stupified. A dim re- collection of his carousals, like a shadowy and indis- tinct dream, passes before the mind. He still hears, as in echo, the cries and laughter of his companions. Wild fantastic fancies accumulate thickly around the brain. His giddiness is greater than ever ; and he feels as if in a ship tossed upon a heaviiTg sea. At last he drops insensibly into a profound slumber. In -the morning he. awakes in a high fever. The whole body is parched; the palms of the hands in par- ticular, are like leather. His head is often violently painful. He feels excessive thirst; while his tongue is white, dry, and stiff. The whole inside of the mouth is likewise hot and constricted, and the throat often sore. Then look at his eyes—how sickly, dull, and languid ! The fire, which first lighted them up the eve- ning before, is all gone. A stupor like that of the last stage of drunkenness still clings about them, and they are disagreeably affected by the light. The complex- ion sustains as great a chauge : it is no longer flushed with the gayetyand excitation, but pale and wayworn, indicating a profound niental and bodily exhaustion, There is probably sickness, and the appetite is totally gone. Even yet the delirium of intoxication has not left him, for his head -still rings, his heart still throbs violently ; and if he attempt getting up, ho stumbles with giddiness. The mind also is -sadlv depressed, and the proceedings of the previous night are painfully re- membered. He is sorry for his conduct, promises solemnly never again so to commit himself, and calls impatiently for something to quench his thirst. Such are the usual phenomena of a fit of drunkenness. In the beginning of intoxication we are inclined to sleep, especially if we indulge alone. In companies, the noise and opportunity of conversing prevent this; and when a certain quantity has been drunk, the drowsy tendency wears away. A person who wishes to stand out well, should never talk much. This increases the effects of the liquor, and hurries on intoxication. Hence, every experienced drunkard holds it to be a piece of prudence to keep his tongue under restraint. The giddiness of intoxication is always greater in darkness than in the light. I know of no rational way by which this can be explained ; but, certain it is, the drunkard never so well knows his true condition as when alone and in darkness. Possibly the noise and light distracted the mind, and made the bodily sensa- tions be, for the time, in some measure unfelt. There are some persons who get sick from drinking even a small quantity ; and this sickness is, upon the whole, a favourable circumstance, as it proves an ef- fectual curb upon them, however much they may be disposed to intemperance. . In such cases, it will gen- erally be found that the sickness takes place as soon as vertigo makes its appearance : it seems, in reality, to be produced by this sensation. This, however, is a rare circumstance, for though vertigo from ordinary causes has a strong tendency to produce sickness, that arising from drunkenness has seldom this effect. The nausea and sickness sometimes occurring in intoxica- tion, proceed almost always from the surcharged and disordered state of the stomach, and very seldom from the accompanying giddiness. Intoxication, before it proceeds too far, has a power- ful tendency to increase the appetite. Perhaps it would be more correct to say, that inebriating liquors, by stimulating the stomach, have this power. We often see gluttony and drunkenness combined together at the same time. This continues till the last stage, when, from overloading and excess of irritation, the stomach expels its contents by vomiting. All along, the action of the kidneys is much in- creased, especially at the commencement of intoxica- tion. When a large quantity of intoxicating fluid has been suddenly taken into the stomach, the usual pre- liminary symptoms of drunkenness do not appear. An instantaneous stupefaction ensues; and the person is at once knocked down. This cannot be imputed to distention of the cerebral vessels, but to a sudden ope- ration on the nervous branches of the stomach. The brain is thrown into a state of collapse, and many of its functions suspended. In such cases the face is not at first tumid and ruddy, but pale and contracted. The pulse is likewise feeble, and the body cold and power- less. When re-action takes place, these symptoms wear off, and those of sanguineous apoplexy succeed; such as turgid countenance, full but slow pulse, and strong stertorous breathing. The vessels of the brain have now become filled, and there is a strong determina- tion to that organ. Persons of tender or compassionate minds are par- ticularly subject, during intoxication, to be affected to tears at the sight of any distressing object, or evennn hearing an affecting tale. Drunkenness in such charac- ters, may be said to melt the heart, and open up the fountains of sorrow. Their sympathy is often ridicu- lous, and aroused by the most trifling causes. Those who have a living imagination, combiued with this ten- derness of heart, .sometimes conceives fictitious causes of distress, and weep bitterly at the woe of their own creating. There are some persons in whom drunkenness calls forth a spirit of piety, or rather of religious hypoerisy, ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. 63 which is both ludicrous and disgusting. They become sentimental over their cups; and, while in a state of debasement most offensive to God and man, they will weep at the wickedness of the human heart, entreat you to eschew swearing and profane company, and have a greater regard for the welfare of your immortal soul. These sanetimonious drunkards seem to consider ebri- ety as the m©st venial of offences. During a paroxysm of drunkenness, the body is much , less sensible to external stimuli than at other times : it is particularly capable of resisting Cold. Seamen, when absent on shore, are prone to get intoxicated; and they will frequently lie for hours on the highway, even in the depth of winter, without any bad conse- quences. A drunk man seldom shivers from cold. His frame seems steeled against it, and he holds out with an apathy which is astonishing. The body is, in like manner, insensible to injuries, such as cuts, bruises, &c. He frequently receives, in fighting, the most severe blows, without seemingly feeling them, and without, in fact, being aware of the matter, till so- bered. Persons in intoxication have been known to chop off their fingers, and otherwise disfigure them- selves, laughing all the while at the action. But when the paroxysm is off, and the frame weakened, things are changed. External agents are then withstood with little vigour, with even less than in the natural state of the-body. The person shivers on the slightest chill, and is more than usually subject to fevers and all sorts of contagion. External stimuli frequently break the fit. Men have been instantly sobered by having a bucket of cold wa- ter thrown upon them, or by falling into a stream. Strong emotions of the mind produce the same effect, such as the sense of danger, or a piece of good or bad news, suddenly communicated. There are particular situations and circumstances in which a man can stand liquor better than in others. In the close atmosphere of a large town, he is soon over- powered ; and it is here that the genuine drunkard is to be met with in the greatest perfection. In the coun- try, especially in a mountainous district, or on the sea- shore, where the air is cold and piercing, a great quan- tity may be taken with impunity. The Highlanders dfink largely of ardent spirits, and they are often in- toxicated, yet, among them, there are comparatively few who can be called habitual drunkards. A keen air seems to deaden its effects, and it soon evaporates from their constitutions. Sailors and soldiers who are hard wrought, also consume enormous quantities with- out injury; porters and all sorts of labourers do the same. With these men exercise is a corrective ; but in towns, where no counteracting agency is employed, it acts with irresistible power upon the frame, and soon proves destructive. A great quantity of liquors may also be taken with- out inebriating, in certain diseases, such as spasm te- tanus, gangrene, and retrocedent gout. Certain circumstances of constitution maite one per- son naturally more apt to get intoxicated than another. ' Mr Pitt,' says a modern writer, ' would retire in the midst of a warm debate, and enliven his faculties with a couple of bottles of Port. Pitt's constitution ena- bled him to do this with impunity. He was afflicted with what is called a coldness of stomach ; and the quantity of wine that would have closed the oratory of so professed a Bacchanalian as Sheridan, scarcely ex- cited the son of Chatham.'* All kinds of intoxicating agents act much more rapidly and powerfully upon an empty than a full stomach. In like manner, when the stomach is disordered, and sub- ject to weakness, heartburn, or disease of any kind, ebriety is more rapidly produced than when this organ is sound and healthy. ™ The stomach may get accustomed to "a strong stimu- * Rede'a Memoir of the rijjht Hon. George Canning. lus, and resist it powerfully, while it yields to one much weaker. I have known people who could drink eight or ten glasses of raw spirits at a sitting without feeling them much, become perfectly intoxicated by half the quantity made into toddy. In like manner, he who is in the constant habit of using one spirit,—rum, for in- stance,—cannot, for the most part, indulge to an equal extent in another, without experiencing more severe effects than if he had partaken of his usual beverage. This happens even when the strength of the two liquors is the same. The mind exercises a considerable effect upon drunk- enness, and may often control it powerfully. When in the company of a superior whom we respect, or of a female in whose presence it would be indelicate to get intoxicated, a much greater portion of liquor may be withstood than in societies where no such restraints operate. Drunkenness has sometimes a curiou? effect upon the memory. Actions committed during intoxication may be forgotten on a recovery from this state, and re- membered distinctly when the person becomes again intoxicated. Drunkenness has thus an analogy to dreaming, in which state circumstances are occasionally brought to mind which had entirely been forgotten. The same thing may also occur in fevers, wherein even languages with which we were familiar in childhood or youth,"but had forgotten, are renewed upon the mem- ory and pass away from it again when the disease which recalled them is removed. With most people intoxication is a gradual process, and increases progressively as they pour down the liquor; but there are some individuals in whom it takes place suddenly, and without any previous indication of its approach. It is not uncommon to see such persons sit for hours at the bottle without experiencing any thing beyond a moderate elevation of spirits, yet as- sume all at once the outrage and boisterous irregularity of the most decided drunkenness. Some drunkards retain their senses after the physical powers are quite exhausted. Others, even when the mind is wrought to a pitch leading to the most absurd actions, preserve a degree of cunning1 and observation which enables them to elude the tricks which their companions are preparing to play upon them. In such cases, they display great address, and take the first opportunity of retaliating; or, if such does not occur, of slipping out of the room unobserved and getting away. Some, while the whole mind seems locked up in the stupor of forgetfulness, hear all that is going on. No one should ever presume on the intoxicated state of another to talk of him detractingly in his presence. While apparently deprived of all sensation, he may be an attentive listener ; and whatever is said, though un- heeded at the moment, is not forgotten afterwards, but treasured carefully up in the memory. Much discord and ill-will frequently arise from such imprudence. There are persons who are exceedingly profuse, and fond of giving away their money, watches, rings, &c, to the company. This peculiarity will never, I believe be found in a miser : avarice is a passion strong under every circumstance. Drinking does not loosen the grasp of the covetous man, or open his heart : he is for ever the same. The generality of people are apt to talk of their pri- vate affairs when intoxicated. They then reveal the most deeply-hidden secrets to their companions. Others have their minds so happily constituted that nothing es- capes them. They are, even in their most unguarded moments, secret and close as the grave. The natural disposition may be better discovered in drunkenness than at any other time. In modern society, life is all a disguise. Almost every man walks in masquerade, and his most intimate friend very often does not know his real character. Many wear smiles f constantly upon their cheeks, whose hearts are unprin- 64 ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. cipled and treacherous. Many with violent tempers have all the external calm and softness of charity itself. Some speak always with sympathy, who, at soul, are full of gall and bitterness. Intoxication tears off the veil, and sets each in his true light, whatever they may be. The combative man will quarrel, the amorous will love, the detractor will abuse his neighbour. I have known exceptions, but they are few in number. At one time they seemed more numerous, but closer observation convinced me that most of those whom I thought drunkenness had libelled, inherited at bottom the genuine dispositions which it brought forth. The ex- ceptions, howevel-, which now1 and then* occur, are sufficiently striking, and point out the injustice of al- ways judging of a man's real disposition from his drunken moments. To use the words of Addison, ' Not only does this vice betray the hidden faults of a man, and show them in the most odious colours, but often occasions faults to which he is not naturally subject. Wine throws a man out of himself, and in- fuses qualities into the mind which she is a stranger to in his sober moments.' The well known maxim ' in vino Veritas,' therefore, though very generally true, is to be received with someirestrictions, although, these I am satisfied, are by no means so numerous, as many authors would have us to belive. CHAPTER IV DRUNKENNESS MODIFIED BY TEMPERAMENT, Under the last head I have described the usual phe- nomena of intoxication ; but it is necessary to remark that these are apt to be modified by the physical and moral frame of the drinker. Great diversity of opinion exists with regard to the doctrine of the temperaments ; some authors affirming, and others denying their exist- ence. Into this controversy it is needless to enter. All I contend for is, that the bodily and mental constitution of every man is not alike, and that on these peculiari- ties depend certain differences during a paroxysm of drunkenness. 1. Sanguineous Drunkard.—The sanguine temper- ament seems to feel most intensely the excitement of the bottle. Persons of this stamp have usually a ruddy complexion, thick neck, small head, and strong muscu- lar fibre. Their intellect is in general mediocre, for great bodily strength and corresponding mental powers are rarely united together. In such people, the animal propensities prevail over the moral and intellectual ones. They are prone to combativeness and sensuality, and are either very good-natured or extremely quarrelsome. All their passions are keen : like the Irish women, they will fight for their friends or with them as occasion requires. They are talkative from the beginning, and, during confirmed intoxication, perfectly obstreporous. It is men of this class who are the heroes of all drunk- en companies, the patron of masonic lodges, the presi- dents and getters-up of jovial meetings. With them, eating and drinking are the grand ends of human life. Look at their eyes, how. they sparkle at the sight of wine, and how their lips smack and their teeth water in the neighbourhood of a good dinner : they would scent out a banquet in Siberia. When intoxicated, their passions are highly excited : the energies of a hundred minds then seem concentrated into one focus. Their mirth, their anger, their love, their folly, are all equally intense and unquenchable. Such men cannot conceal their feelings. In drunkenness, the veil is removed from them, and their characters stand revealed, as in a glass to the eye of the beholder. The Roderick Ran- dom of Smollett had much of this temperament, blend- ed, however, with more intellect than usually belongs to it. II. Melancholy Drunkard.—Melancholy, in drunk- ards, sometimes arises from temperament, but more frequently from habitual intoxication or misfortune, Some men are melancholy by nature, but become highly mirthful when they have drunk a considerable quantity. Men of this tone of mind seem to enjoy the bottle more exquisitely than even the sanguineous- class. The joyousness which it excites breaks in upon their gloom like sunshine upon darkness. Above all, the sensations, of the moment when mirth begins with its magic to charm away care, are inexpressible. Pleasure falls in showers of fragrance upon their souls ; they are at peace with themselves and all mankind, and enjoy, as it were, a foretaste of paradise. Robert Burns was an example of this variety. His melancholy was constitutional, but heightened by misfortune. The bottle commonly dispelled it, and gave rise to the most delightful images ; sometimes, however, it only aggra- vated the gloom. III. Surly Drunkard.—Some men are not excited to mirth by intoxication : on the contrary, it renders them gloomy and discontented. Even those who in the sober state are sufficiently gay, become, occasion- ally thus altered. A great propensity to take offence is a characteristic among persons of this temperament. They are suspicious, and very often mischievous. If at some former period they have had a difference with any of the company, they are sure to revive it, although, probably, it has been long ago cemented on both sides, and even forgotten by the other party. People of this description are very unpleasant companions. They are in general so foul-tongued, quarrelsome, and inde- cent in conversation, that established clubs of drinkers have made it a practice to exclude them from their so- ciety. IV. Phlegmatic Drunkard.—Persons of this tem- perament are ^eavy-rolling machines, and, like the above, are not loused to mirth by liquor. Their vital actions are dull and spiritless—the blood in their veins as sluggish as the river Jordan, and their energies stag- nant as the Dead Sea. They are altogether a negative sort of beings, with passionstoo inert to lead them to any thing very good" or very bad. They are a species of animated clods, but not thoroughly animated—for the vital fire of feeling has got cooled in penetrating their frozen frames. A new prometheus would require to breathe into their nostrils, to give them the ordinarv glow and warmth of humanity. Look at a phlegmatic man—how dead, passionless and uninspired is the ex- pression of his clammy lips and vacant eye ! Speak to him—how cold, slow, and tame is his conversation ! the words come forth as if they were drawn from his mouth with a pair of pincers : and the ideas are as fro- zen as if concocted in the bowels of Lapland. Liquor produces no effect upon his mental powers ; or, if it does, it is a smothering one. The whole energies of the drink fall on his almost impassive frame. From the first, his drunkenness is stupifying; he is seized with a kind of lethargy, the white of his eyes turns up, he breathes loud and harshly, and sinks into an apoplec- tic stupor. Yet all this is perfectly harmless, and wears away without leaving any mark behind it. Such persons are very apt to be played upon by their companions. There are few men who, in their younger days who have not assisted in shaving the heads and painting the faces of these lethargic drunkards. V. Nervous Drunkard.—This is a very harmless and very tiresome personage. Generally of a weak mind and irritable constitution, he does not become boister- ous with mirth, and rarely shows the least glimmering of wit or mental energy. He is talkative and fond of long winded stories, which he tells in a drivelling, silly manner. Never warmed into enthusiasm by liquor he keeps chatting at some ridiculous tale, very much in the way of a garrulous old man m his dotage.* ♦ The old gentleman who is represented as speaking, in Bun- ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. 65 VI. Choleric Drunkard.—There are a variety of drunkards whom I cart only class under the above title. They seem to possess few of the qualities of the other races,and are chiefly distinguished by an uncommon tes- tinessof disposition. They are quick, irritable, and impa- tient, but withal good at heart, and, when in humour, very pleasant and generous. They are easily put out of temper, but it returns almost immediately. This dis- position is very prevalent among Welshmen and High- land lairds. Mountaineers afe usually quick tempered : but such men are not the worst or most unpleasant. Sterne is undoubtedly right when he says that more vir- tue is to be found in warm than cold dispositions. Com- modore Trunnion is a marked example of this tempera- ment ; and Captain Fluellen, who compelled the heroic Pistol to eat the leek, is another. VII. Periodical Drunkard.—There are persons whose temperaments are so peculiarly constituted, that they indulge to excess periodically, and are, in the in- tervals of these indulgences, remarkably sober. This is not a very common case, but I have known more than one instance of it ; and a gentleman, distinguish- ed by the power of his eloquence in the senate and at the bar, is said to furnish another. In the cases which I have known, the drunken mania, for it can get no other name, came on three or four time a-year. The persons from a state of complete sobriety, felt the most intense desire for drink ; and no power, short of abso- lute force or confinement, could restrain them from the indulgence. In every case they seemed to be quite aware of the uncontrollable nature of their passion, and proceeded systematically by confining themselves to their room, and procuring a large quantity of ardent spirits. As soon as this was done, they commenced and drank to excess till vomiting ensued, and the stomach absolutely refused to receive another drop of liquor. This state may last a few days or a few weeks according to constitutional strength, 'or the rapidity with which the libations are poured down. During the continuance of the attack, the individual exhibits such a state of mind as may be looked for from his pe- culiar temperament; he may be sanguineous, or melan- choly, or surly, or phlegmatic^ or nervous, or choleric. So soon as the stomach rejects enery thing that is swallowed, and severe sickness comes on, the fit ceases. From that moment recovery takes place, and the for- mer fondness for liquor is succeeded by aversion or dis- gust. This gains such ascendency over him, that he abstains religiously from it for weeks, or months, or even for a year, as the case may be. During this inter- val he leads a life of the most exemplary temperance, drinking nothing but cold water, and probably shunning every society where he is likely to be exposed to in- dulgence. So soon as this period of sobriety has ex- pired, the fit again comes on ; and he continues play-4 ing the same game for perhaps the better part of a long life. This class of persons I would call periodical drunkards. These different varieties are sometimes found strong- ly marked ; at other times so blended together that it is not easy to say which predominates. The most agreeable drunkard is he whose temperament lies be- tween the sanguineous and the melancholic. The genuine sanguineous is a sad noisy dog, and so com- mon that every person must have met with him. The naval service furnishes a great many gentlemen of this description. The phlegmatic, I think, is rarer, but both the nervous and the surly are not unusual. CHAPTER V. DRUNKENNESS MODIFIED BY THE INEBRIATING AGENT. Intoxication is not only influenced by temperament, bury's admirable caricature of the ' Long Story,' furnishes one of the best illustrations I have ever seen of this variety. It is worth consulting, both on account ol" the story-teller, and the ef- fect his tedious garrulity produced upon the company. but by the nature of the agent which produces it. Thus, ebriety from ardent spirits differs in some particulars from that brought on by opium or malt liquors, such as porter and ale. I. Modified by Ardent Spirits.—Alcohol is the prin- ciple of intoxication in all liquors. It is this which gives to wine,* ale, and spirits, their characteristic pro- perties. In the natural state, however, it is so pun- gent, that it could not be received into the stomach, even in a moderate quantity, without producing death. It can, therefore, only be used in dilution ; and in this state we have it, from the strongest ardent spirits, to simple small beer. The first (ardent spirits) being the most concentrated of its combinations, act most rapidly upon the constitution. They are more inflammatory, and intoxicate sooner than any of the others. Swal- lowed in an overdose, they act almost instantaneously— extinguishing the senses and overcoming the whole body with a sudden stupor. When spirits are swal- lowed raw, as in the form of a dram, they excite a glow of heat in the throat and stomach, succeeded, in those who are not much accustomed to their use, by a flush- ing of the countenance, and a copious discharge of - tears. They are strongly diuretic. Persons who indulge too much in spirits rarely get corpulent, unless their indulgence be coupled with good living. Their bodies become emaciated ; they get spin- dle-shanked ; their eyes are glazed and hollow; their cheeks fall in ; and a premature old age overtakes them. They do not eat so well as their brother drunk- ards. An insatiable desire for a morning dram makes them early risers, and their breakfast amounts to almost nothing. The principal varieties of spirits, as already men- tioned, are rum, brandy, whiskey, and gin. It is need- less to enter into any detail of the history of these fluids. Brandy kills soonest; it takes most rapidly to the head, and, more readily than the others, tinges the face to a crimson or livid hue. Rum is probably the next in point of fatality; and, after that, whiskey and gin. The superior diuretic qualities of the two latter, and the less luscious sources from whence they are procured, may possibly account for such differences. I am at the same time aware that some persons entertain a different idea of the relative danger of these liquors : some, for instance, conceive that gin is more rapidly fatal than any of them; but it is to be remembered, that it, more than any other ardent spirit, is liable to adul- teration. That, from this circumstance, more lives may be lost by its use, I do not deny. In speaking of gin, however, and comparing its effects with those of the rest of the class to which it belongs, I must be un- derstood to speak of it in its pure condition, and not in that detestable state of sophistication in which such vast * quantities of it are drunk in London and elsewhere. When pure, 1 have no hesitation in affirming that it is decidedly more wholesome than either brandy or rum ; and that' the popular belief of its greater tendency to produce dropsy, is quite unfounded. An experiment has lately been made for the purpose of ascertaining the comparative powers of gin, brandy, and rum upon the human body, which is not less re- markable for the inconsequent conclusions deduced from it, than for the ignorance it displays in confound- ing dead animal matter with the living fibre. It was made as follows :— A piece of raw liver was put into a glass of gin, an- other into a glass of rum, and a third into a glass of brandy. That in the gin was, in a given time, partially decomposed ; that in the rum, in the same time, not diminished ; and that in the brandy quite dissolved. It was concluded from these results, that rum was the most wholesome spirit of the three, and brandy the * Alcohol appears to exist in wines, in a very peculiar state of combination. In the Appendix, I have availed myself of Dr Paris's valuable remarks on this subject. 66 ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. least. The inferences deduced from these premises are not only erroneous, but glaringly absurd ; the pre- mises would even afford grounds for drawing results of the very opposite nature : it might be said, for instance, that though brandy be capable of dissolving dead ani- mal matter, there is no evidence that it can do the same to the living stomach, and that it would in reality prove less hurtful than the others, in so far as it would, more effectually than they, dissolve the food contained in that organ. These experiments, in fact, prove nothing ; and could only have been suggested by one completely ignorant of the functions of the animal economy. There is a power inherent in the vital principle which resists the laws that operate upon dead matter. This is known to every practitioner, and is the reason why the most plausible and recondite speculations of chemistry have come to naught in their trials upon the living frame. The only way to judge of the respective effects of ar- dent spirits, is by experience and physiological reason- ing, both of which inform us that the spirit most power- fully diuretic must rank highest in the scale of safety. Now and then persons are met with on whose frames both gin and whiskey have a much more heating effect than the two other varieties of spirits. This, however, is not common, and when it does occur, can only be referred to some accountable idiosyncrasy of constitu- tion. II. Modified by Wines.—Drunkenness from wines closely resembles that from ardent spirits. It is equally airy and volatile, more especially if the light wines, such as Champagne, Claret, Chambertin, orVolnay, be diunk. On the former, a person may get tipsy several times of a night. The fixed air evolved from it pro- duces a feeling analogous to ebriety, independent of the spirit it contains. Port, Sherry, and Madeira are heavier wines, and have a stronger tendency to excite headache and fever. The wine-bidder has usually an ominous rotundity of face, and, not nnfrequently, of corporation. His nose is well studded over with carbuncles of the claret complexion : and the red of his cheeks resembles very closely the hue of that wine. The drunkard from ar- dent spirits is apt to be poor, miserable, emaciated figure, broken in mind and in fortune ; but the votary of the juice of the grape may usually boast the 'paunch well lined with capon,'and calls to recollec- ' tion the bluff figure of Sir John Falstaff over kis pota- tions of sack.* III. Modified by Malt Liquors.—Malt liquors under which title we include all kinds of porter and ales, pro- duce the worst species of drunkenness ; as, in addition to the intoxicating principle, some noxious ingredients are usually added, for the purpose of preserving them and giving them their bitter. The hop of these fluids is highly narcotic, and brewers often add other sub- stances, to heighten its effect, such as hyoscyamus, opium, belladonna, cocculus Indicus, lauro cerasus, &c. Malt liquors, therefore, act in two ways upon the body, partly by the alcohol they contain, and partly by the narcotic principle. In addition to this, the fermenta- tion which they undergo is much less perfect than that of spirits or wine. After being swallowed, this process is -carried on in the stomach, by which fixed air is co- piously liberated, and the digestion of delicate stomachs materially impaired. Cider, spruce, ginger, and table beers, in consequence of their imperfect fermentation, often produce the same bad effects, long after their first briskness has vanished. Persons addicted to malt liquors increase enormously * There is reason to believe that the Sack of Shakspeare was Sherry.—' Falstaff. You rogue ! here's lime in this Sack too. There is nothing but roguery to be found in villanoua man. Yet a coward is worse than a cup of Sack with lime in it.'— Lime, it is well known, is added to the grapes in the manufac- ture of Sherry. This not only gives the wine what is called its dry quality, but probably a«3 by neutralizing a portion of the malic or tartaric acid. in bulk. They become loaded with fat; their chin o-ets double or triple, the eye prominent, and the whole face bloated and stupid. Their circulation is clogged, while the pulse feels like a cord, and is full and laboring, but not quick. During sleep, the breathing is sterto- rous. Every thing indicates an excess of blood ; and when a pound or two is taken away, imm'ense relief is obtained. The blood, in such cases, is more dark and sizy than in the others. In seven cases out of ten, malt liquor drunkards die of apoplexy or palsy. If they escape this hazard, swelled liver or dropsy carries them off. The abdomen seldom loses its prominency, but the lower extremities get ultimately emaciated. Profuse bleedings frequently ensue from the nose, and swe life, by emptying the blood-vessels of the brain. The drunkenness in question is peculiarly of British growth. The most noted examples of it are to be found in innkeepers and their wives, recruiting ser- geants, guards of stage-coaches, &c. The quantity of malt liquors which such persons will consume in a day is prodigious. Seven English pints is quite a common allowance, and not unfrequently twice that quantity is taken without any perceptible effect. Many of the coal-heavers on the Thames think nothing of drinking daily two gallons of porter, especially in the summer season, when they labor under profuse perspiration. A friend has informed me that he'knew an instance of one of them having consumed eighteen pints in one day, and he states that there are many such instances.* The effects of malt liquors on the body, if not so immediately rapid as those of ardent spirits, are more stupifying, more lasting, and less easily removed. The last are particularly prone to produce levity and mirth, but the first have a stunning influence on the brain, and, in a short time, render dull and sluggish the gayest dis- position. They also produce sickness and vomiting more readily than either spirits or wine. Both wine and malt liquors have a greater tendency to swell the body than ardent spirits. They form blood with greater rapidity, and are altogether more nourish- ing. The most dreadful effects, upon the whole, are brought on by spirits, but drunkenness from malt li- quors is the most speedily fatal. The former break down the body by degrees, the latter operate by some instantaneous apoplexy or rapid inflammation. No one has ever given the respective characters of the malt liquor and ardent spirit drunkard with greater truth than Hogarth, in his Beer Alley and Gin Lane. ■ The first is represented as plump, rubicund, and bloat- ed ; the second as pale, tottering, and emaciated, and dashed over with the aspect of blank despair. IV. Modified by Opium.—The drunkenness pro- duced by opium has also some characteristics which it is necessary to mention. The drug is principally em- ployed by the Mahometans. By their religion, these people are forbidden the use of wine,t and use opium as a substitute. And a delightful substitute it is while the first excitation continues ; for images it occasions in the mind are more exquisite than any produced even by wine. There is reason to believe that the use of this medi- cine has, of late years, gained ground in Great Britain. We are told by the 'English Opium-Eater,' whose powerful and interesting ' Confessions' have excited so deep an interest, that the practice' exists among the work people at Manchester. Many of our fashionable ladies have recourse to it when troubled with vapours, or low spirits ; some of them even carry it about with them for the purpose. This practice is most perni- 4-*4, there are, in Glas- gow, nine hundred drunken men, day after day, spread- ing around them beggary, and wretchedness, and crime !' Had the author given to each licensed house, one drunkard, on an average, I do not think he would have overstepped the bounds of truth. As it is, what a picture of demoralization and wretchedness does it not exhibit! CHAPTER XI. 7 SLEEP OF DRUNKARDS. To enter at large upon' the subject of sleep would re- quire a volume. At present I shall only consider it so far as it is modified by drunkenness. The drunkard seldom knows the delicious and re- freshing slumbers of the temperate man. He is restless, and tosses in bed for an hour or two before falling asleep. Even then, his rest is not comfortable. He awakes frequently during night, and each time his mouth is dry, his skin parched, and his head, for the most part, painful and throbbing. These symptoms from the irritable state of his constitution, occur even when he goes so- berly to bed ; but if he lie down heated with liquor, he feels them with double force. Most persons who fall asleep in a state of intoxication, have much headach, exhaustion and general fever, on awaking. Some con- stitutions are lulled to rest by liquors, and others ren- dered excessively restless ; but the first are no gainers by the difference, as they suffer abundantly afterwards. Phlegmatic drunkards drop into slumber more readily than the others : their sleep is, in reality a sort of apo- pletic stupor. I. Dreams.—Dreams maybe readily supposed to be common, from the deranged manifestations of the stom- ach! and brain which occur in intoxication. They are usually of a painful nature, and leave a gloomy impres- sion upon the mind. In general, they are less palpable to the understanding than those which occur in sober- ness. They come like painful grotesque conceptions across the imagination ; and though this faculty can embody nothing into shape, meaning, or consistence, it is yet haunted with melancholy ideas. These visions depend much on the mental constiution of the person, and are modified by his habitual tone of thinking. It is, how- ever, to be remarked, that white the waking thoughts ol the drunkard are full of sprightly images, those of his sleep are usually tinged with a shade of perplexing melancholy. II. Nightmare.—Drunkards are more afflicted than other people with this disorder, in so far as they are equally subject to all the ordinary causes, and liable to others from which sober people are exempt- ed. Intoxication is fertile in producing reveries and dreams, those playthings of the fancy ; and it may also give rise to such a distortion of idea, as to call up incubus, and all its frightful accompani- ments. III. Sleep-walking. — Somnambulism is another affection to which drunkards are more liable than their neighbours. I apprehend that the slumber is never profound when this takes place, and that, in drunken- ness in particular, it may occur in a state of very im- perfect sleep. Drunkards, even when consciousness is not quite abolished, frequently leave their beds and walk about the room. They know perfectly well what they are about, and recollect it afterwards, but if ques- tioned, either at the moment or at any future period, they are totally unable to give any reason for their con duct. Sometimes after getting up, they stand a little time and endeavour to account for rising, then go agaia deliberately to bed. There is often, in the behaviour of these individuals, a strange mixture of folly and ra- tionality. , Persons half tipsy have been known to arise and go out of doors in their night-dress, being all the while sensible of what they were doing, and aware c-f its absurdity. The drunken somnambulism has not always this character. Sometimes the reflecting facul- ties are so absorbed in slumber, that the person has no consciousness of what he does. From drinking, the affection is always more dangerous than from any other cause, as the muscles- have no longer their former strength and are unable to support the person in his haz- ardous expeditions. If he gets upon a house-top, he does not balance himself properly, from giddiness ; he is con- sequently liable to falls and accidents of every kind. It is considered, with justice, dangerous to awaken a sleep- walker In a drunken fit, there is less, risk than under other circumstances, the mind being so far confused by intoxication, as to be, in some measure, insensible to the shock. IV. Sleep-talking.—For the same reason that drunk- ards are peculiarly prone to somnambulism are. they sub- ject to sleep-talking, which is merely a modification of the other. The imagination, being vehemently excited by the drunken dream, embodies itself often in speech, which however is, in almost every case, extremely in- coherent, and wants the rationality sometimes posses- sed by the conversation of sleep-talkers under other cir- cumstances. CHAPTER XII. SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION OF DRUNKARD'S. Whether such a quantity of hydrogen may accumu- late in the bodies of drunkards as to sustain combus- tion, is not easy to determine. This subject is, indeed, one which has never been satisfactorily investigated; and, notwithstanding the cases brought forward in sup- port of the doctrine, the general opinion seems to be, that the whole is fable, or at least so much involved in obscurity as to afford no just grounds for belief. The principal information on this point is in the Journal de Physique, in an article by Pierre Aime Lair, a copy of which was published in the sixth volume of the Philo- sophical Transactions, by Mr. Alexander Tilloch. A number of cases are there given : and it is not a little singular that the whole of them are those of women ij> ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. 83 advanced life. When we consider that writers like V Iccl d Azyr, Le Cat, Maffei, Jacobseus, Rolli, Bian- chini, and Mason Good, have given their testimony in support of such facts, it requires some effort to believe them unfounded in truth. At the same time, in peru- sing the case themselves, it is difficult to divest the mind of an idea that some misstatement or other exists, either as to their alleged cause or their actual nature— and that their relaters have been led into an unintention- al misrepresentation. The most curious fact connected with this subject is, that the combustion appears sel- dom to be sufficiently strong to inflame combustible substances with which it comes in contact, such as woollen or cotton, while it destroys the body, which in other circumstances is hardly combustible at all.* Some- times the body is consumed by an open flame flicker- ing over it—at other times there is merely a smothered heat or fire, without any visible flame. It is farther alleged that water, instead of allaying, aggravates the combustion. This species of burning, indeed, is per- fectly sui generis, and bears no resemblance to^any species of combustion with which we are acquainted. In most cases it breaks out spontaneously, although it may be occasioned by a candle, a fire, or a stroke of lightning ; but in every case it is wholly peculiar to it- self. M. Fodere remarks, that hydrogen gas is devel- oped in certain cases of disease, even in the living body ; and he seems inclined to join with M. Mere in attributing what is called spontaneous combustion, to the united action of hydrogen and electricity in the first instance, favoured by the accumulation of animal oil, and the impregnation of spiritous liquors. In the pre- sent state of our knowledge, it is needless to hazard any conjectures upon this mysterious subject. The best way is to give a case or two, and let the reader judge for himself. Case of Mary Clues.—'This woman, aged fifty, was much addicted to intoxication. Her propensity to this vice had increased after the death of her husband, which happened a year and a half before : for about a year, scarcely a day had passed in the course of which she did not drink at least half a pint of rum or aniseed water. Her health gradually declined, and about the beginning of February she was attacked by the jaundice and confined to her bed. Though she was incapable of much action, and not in a condition to work, she still continued her old habit of drinking every day, and smoking a pipe of tobacco. The bed in which she lay stood parallel to the chimney of the apartment, at the distance from it of about three feet. On Saturday morning, the 1st of March, she fell on the floor, and hei extreme weakness having prevented her from getting up, she remained in that state till seme one entered and put her to bed. The following night she wished to be left alone : a woman quitted her at half past eleven, and, according to custom, shut the door and locked it. She had put on the fire two large pieces of coal, and placed a light in a candlestick on a chair at the head of the bed. At half past five in the morning, smoke was seen issuing through the window, and the door being speedily broken open, some flames which were in the room were soon extinguished. Between the bed and the chimney were found the remains of the unfortunate Clues ; one leg and a thigh were still entire, but there remained nothing of the skin, the musftles, and the vis- cera. The bones of the cranium, the breast, the spine, * ' At a period when criminals were condemned to expiate their crimes in the flames, it is well known what a large quantity of combustible materials was required for burning their bodies. A baker's boy named Renaud being several years ago condemn- ed to be burned at Caen, two large cart loads of fagots were re- nuired to consume the body ; and at the end of more than ten hours some remains were still visible. In this country, the ex- m>me incombustibility ofthe human body was exemplified in the £.=» J Mrs King, who, having been murdered by a foreigner, ^^itTo^^Parisand Fonblanqurs Medical J,, Tteprudence. and the upper extremities, were entirely calcined, and covered with a whitish efflorescence. The people were much surprised that the furniture had sustained so lit- tle injury. The side of the bed which was next the chimney had suffered most; the wood of it was slightly burned, but the feather-bed, the clothes, and covering were safe. I entered the apartment about two hours after it had been opened, and observed that the walls and every thing in it were blackened ; that it was filled with a very disagreeable vapour ; but that nothing ex- cept the body exhibited any very strong traces of fire.' This case first appeared in the Annual Register for 1773, and is a fair specimen of the cases collected in the Journal de Physique. There is no evidence that the combustion was spontaneous, as it may have been occasioned either by lightning, or by contact with the fire. The only circumstance which militates against , the latter supposition, is the very trifling degree of burning that was found in the apartment. Case of Grace Pitt.—' Grace Pitt, the wife of a fishmonger in the Parish of St. Clement, Ipswich, aged about sixty, had contracted a habit, which she continu- ed for several years, of coming down every night from her bed-room, half-dressed, to smoke a pipe. On the night of the 9 th of April, 1744, she got up from her bed as usual. Her daughter, who slept with her, did not perceive she was absent till next morning when she awoke, soon after which she put on her clothes, and going down into the kitchen, found her mother stretched out on the right side, with her head near the grate'; the body extended on the hearth, with the legs on the floor, which was of deal, having the appearance of a log of wood, consumed by a fire without apparent flame. On beholding this spectacle, the girl ran in great haste and poured over her mother's body some water contained in two large vessels in order to extinguish the fire ; while the foetid odour and smoke which exhaled from the body, almost suffocated some of the neighbours who had hastened to the girl's assistance. The trunk was in some measure incinerated, and resembled a heap of coals covered with white ashes. The head, the arms, the legs, and the thighs, had also participated in the burning. This woman, it is said, had drunk a large quantity of spiritous liquors in consequence of being overjoyed to hear that one of her daughters had returned from Gibraltar. There was no fire in the grate, and the candle had burned entirely out in the socket of the candlestick, which was close to her. Besides, there were found near the consumed body, the clothes of a child and a paper screen, which had sustained no injury by the fire. The dress of this woman consisted of a Cotton gown.' This case is to be found in the Transactions of the Royal Society of London, and is one of the most de- cided, and least equivocal instances of this.species of combustion to be met with. It was mentioned at the time in all the journals, and was the subject of much speculation and remark. The reality of its occurrence was attested by many witnesses, and three several ac- counts of it, by different hands, all nearly coincide. Case of Don Gio Maria Bertholi.—' Having spent the day in travelling about the country, he arrived in the evening at the house of his brother-in-law. He immediately requested to be shown to his destined apartment, where he had a handkerchief placed between his shirt and shoulders ; and, being left alone, betook himself to his devotions. A few minutes had scarcely elapsed when an extraordinary noise was heard in the chamber, and the cries of the unfortunate man were particularly distinguished: the people of the house, hastily entering the room, found him extended on the floor, and surrounded by a light flame, which receded (a mesure) as they approached, and finally vanished. On the following morning, the patient was examined by Mr Battlaglia, who found the integuments of the right arm almost entirely detached, and pendant from 84 ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. the flesh ; from the shoulders to the thighs, the integu- ments were equally injured ; and on the right hand, the part most injured, mortification had already commenced, which, notwithstanding immediate scarification, rapidly extended itself. The patient complained of burning thirst, was horribly convulsed, and was exhausted by continual vomiting, accompanied by fever and delirium. On the fourth day, after two hours of comatose insen- sibility, he expired. During the whole period of his sufferings, it was impossible to trace any symptomatic affection. A short time previous to his death, M. Bat- tlaglia observed with astonishment that putrefaction had made so much progress ; the body already exhaled an insufferable odour ; worms crawled from it on the bed, and the nails had become detached from the left hand. ' The account given by the unhappy patient was, that he felt a stroke like the blow of a cudgel on the right hand, and at the same time he saw a lambent flame at- tach "itself to his shirt, which was immediately reduced to ashes, his wristbands, at the same time, being utterly untouched. The handkerchief which, as before men- tioned, was placed between his shoulders and his shirt, was entire, and free from any traces of burning; his breeches were equally uninjured, but though not a hair of his head was burned, his coif was totally consumed. The weather, on the night of the accident, was calm, and the air very pure ; no empyreumatic or bituminous odour was perceived, in the room, which was also free from smoke ; there was no vestige of fire, except that the lamp which had been full of oil, was found dry, and the wick reduced to a cinder.' This case is from the work of Fodere, and is given as abridged by Paris and Fonblanque, in their excellent treatise on Medical Jurisprudence. It occurred in 1776, and is one of the best authenticated to be met with. I am not aware that the subject of it was a drunkard: if he were not, and if the facts be really true, we must conclude that spontaneous combustion may occur in sober persons as well as in the dissipated. Case of Madame Millet.—' Having,' says Le Cat, ' spent several months at Rheims, in the years 1724 and 1725, I lodged at the house of Sieur Millet, whose wife got intoxicated every day. The domestic economy of the family was managed by a pretty young girl, which I must not omit to remark, in order that all the circumstances which accompanied the fact I am about to relate, may be better understood. This wo- man was found consumed on the 20th of February, 1725, at the distance of a foot and a half from the hearth in her kitchen. A part of the head only, with a portion of the lower extremities, and a few of the ver- tebrae, had escaped combustion. A foot and a half of the flooring under the body had been consumed, but a kneading trough and a powdering tub, which were very near the body, sustained no injury. M. Chriteen, a surgeon, examined the remains of the body, with every judicial formality. Jean Millet, the husband, being in- terrogated by the judges who instituted the inquiry into the affair, declared, that about eight in the evening, on the 19th of February, he had retired to rest with his wife who not being able to sleep, went into the kitchen, where he thought she was warming herself; that, hav- ing fallen asleep, he was awakened about two o'clock by an infectious odour, and that, having run to the kitchen, he found the remains of his wife in the state described in the report of the physicians and surgeons. The judges, having no suspicion of the real cause of this event prosecuted the affair with the utmost dilli- gence. It was very unfortunate for Millet that he had a handsome servant-maid, for neither his probity nor innocence were able to save him from the suspicion of having got rid of his wife by a concerted plot, and of having arranged the rest of the circumstances in such a manner as to give it the appearance of an accident. He experienced, therefore, the whole severity of the law ; and though, by an appeal to a superior and very enlightened court, which discovered the cause of the combustion, he came off victorious, he suffering so much from uneasiness of mind, that he was obliged to pass the remainder of his days in an hospital.' The above case has a peculiar importance attached to it, for it shows that, in consequence of combustion, possibly spontaneous, persons have been accused of murder. Fordere, in his woik, alludes to several cases of this kind. Some chemists have attempted to account for this kind of combustion, by the formation of phosphuretted hydrogen in the'body. This gas, as is well known, in- flames on exposure to the air ; nor can there be a doubt that if a sufficient quantity were generated, the body might be easily enough consumed. If such an accu- mulation can be proved ever to take place, there is an end to conjecture ; and we have before us a cause suf- ficiently potent to account for the burning. Altogether I am inclined to think, that although most of the re- lated cases rest on vague report, and are unsupported by such proofs as would warrant us in placing much reliance upon them, yet sufficient evidence nevertheless exists, to show that such a phenomenon as spontaneous combustion has actually taken place, althongh doubtless the number of cases has been much exaggerated. Dr Mason Good, justly observes, 'There may be some difficulty in giving credit to so marvellous a diathesis - yet, examples of its existence, and of its leading to a migratory and fatal combustion are so numerous, and so well authenticated, and press upon us from so many different countries and eras, that it would be absurd to withhold our assent.' 'It can no longer be doubted,' says Dr Gordon Smith, ' that persons have retired to their chambers in the usual manner, and in place of the individual, a few cinders, and perhaps part of his bones, were found.' Inflammable eructations are said to oc- cur occasionally in northern latitudes, when the body has been exposed to intense cold after excessive in- dulgence in spiritous liquors ; and the case of a Bohe- mian peasant is narrated, who lost his life in conse- quence of a column of ignited inflammable air issuing from his mouth, and baffling extinction. This case, as well as others of the same kind, is alleged to have arisen from phosphuretted hydrogen, generated by some chemical combination of alcohol and animal sub- stances in the stomach. What truth there may be in these relations I do not pretend to say. They wear unquestionably the aspect of a fiction; and are, not- withstanding, repeated from so many quarters, that it is nearly as difficult to doubt them altogether as to give them our entire belief. There is one thing, however, which may be safely denied; and that is the fact of drunkards having been blown up in consequence of their breath or eructations catching fire from the appli- cation of a lighted candle. These tales are principally of American extraction ; and seem elaborated by that propensity for the marvellous for which our transatlantic brethren have, of late years, been distinguished. Upon the whole, this subject is extremely obscure, and has never been satisfactorily treated by any writer. Sufficient evidence appears to me to exist in support of the occurrence, but any information as to the remote or proximate cause of this singular malady, is as yet ex- ceedingly defective and unsatisfactory. In a memoir lately read before the Academie des Sciences, the following are stated to be the chief cir- cumstances connected with spontaneous combustion: ; ' 1. The greater part of the persons who have fallen victims to it,, have made an immoderate use of alcoholic liquors. 2. The combustion is almost always general, but sometimes is only partial. 3. It is much rarer among men than among women, and they are principally old women. There is but one case of the combustion of a girl seventeen years of age, and that was only partial. 4. The body and the viscera are invariably burnt, while ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. the feet, the hands, and the top of the skull almost al- ways escape combustion. 5. Although it requires several fagots to burn a common corpse, incineration takes place in these spontaneous combustions without any effect on the most combustible matters in the neighborhood. In an extraordinary instance of a double combustion operating upon two persons in one room, neither the apartment nor the furniture was burnt. 6. It has not been at all proved that the presence of an inflamed body is necessary to develope spontaneous human combustions. 7. Water, so far from extinguish- ing the flame, seems to give it more activity ; and when the flame has disappeared, secret combustion goes on. 8. Spontaneous combustions are more frequent in winter than in summer. 9. General combustions are not susceptible of cure, only partial. 10. Those who undergo spontaneous combustions are the prey of a very strong internal heat. 11. The combustion bursts out all at once, and consumes the body in a few hours. 12. The parts of the body not attacked are struck with mortification. 13. In persons who have been attacked with spontaneous combustion, a putrid degeneracy takes place which soon leads to gangrene.' In this singular malady medicine is of no avail. The combustion is kept up by causes apparently beyond the reacn of remedy, and in almost every case, life is ex- tinct before the phenomenon is perceived. CHAPTER XIII. DRUNKENNESS JUDICIALLY CONSIDERED. Not only does the drunkard draw down upon himself many diseases, both of body and mind, but if, in his intoxication, he commit any crime or misdemeanor, he becomes, like other subjects, amenable to the pains of law. In this respect, indeed, he is worse off than sober persons, for drunkenness, far from palliating, is held to ao-gravate every offence : the law does not .re- gard it as any extenuation of crime. ' A drunkard,' says Sir Edward Coke, ' who is voluntarius demon, hath no privilege thereby ; but what hurt or ill soever he doeth, his drunkenness doth aggravate it.' In the case of the King versus Maclauchlin, March. 1737, the plea of drunkenness, set up in mitigation of punish- ment, was not allowed by the court. Sir George Mac- kenzie says he never found it sustained, and that in a case of murder it was repelled—Spott uerswsDouglass, 1667. Sir Matthew Hales, c. 4. is clear against the validity of the defence, and all agree that ' levis et modica ebrietas non excusat nee minuit delictum.' It is a maxim in legal practice, that ' those who pre- sume to commit crimes when drunk, must submit to punishment when sober.' This state of the law is not peculiar to modern times. In ancient Greece it was decreed by Pittacus, that ' he who committed a crime when intoxicated, should receive a double punishment,' viz one for the crime itself, and the other for the ebriety which prompted him to commit it. The Athe- nians not only punished offences done in drunkenness with increased severity, but, by an enactment of Solon, inebriation in a magistrate was made capital. Ine Roman law was in some measure, an exception, and admitted ebriety as a plea for any misdeeds committed der its influence : pervinum delapsis capitalis poena Remittitur. Notwithstanding this tenderness to offences bv drunkards, the Romans, at one period, were incon- tent enough to punish the vice itself with death, if found occurring in a woman By two acts passed in ♦L reiffn of James I., drunkenness was punishable wfth a fine, and, failing payment, with sitting publicly 7 hours in the stocks; 4 Jac. I. c. 5, and 21 Jac. Jor six n ^ ^^ of these actg) justjces 0f t}je Peace may proceed against drunkards at the Sessions, by way of indictment: and this act remained in opera- tion till the 10th of October, 1828, at which time, by the act of the 9 Geo. IV. c. 61, $ 35, the law for the suppression of drunkenness was repealed, without pro- viding any punishment for offenders in this respect. Previous to this period, the ecclesiastical courts could take cognizance of the offence, and punish it accord- ingly. As the law stands at present, therefore drunk- enness, per se, is not punishable, but acts of violence committed under its influence are held to be aggravated rather than otherwise; nor can the person bring it for- ward as an extenuation of any folly or misdemeanor which he may chance to commit. In proof of this, it may be stated, that a bond signed in a fit of intoxica- tion, holds in law, and is perfectly binding, unless it can be shown that the person who signed it was inebri- ated by the collusion or contrivance of those to whom the bond was given. A judge or magistrate found drunk upon the bench, is liable to removal from his office ; and decisions pronounced by him in that state are held to be null and void. Such persons cannot, while act- ing ex officio, claim the benefit of the repeal in the ancient law—their offence being in itself an outrage on justice, and, therefore, a misdemeanor. Even in blasphemy, uttered in a state of ebriety, the defence goes for nothing, as is manifest from the following case, given in Maclaurin's Arguments and Decisions, p. 731. 'Nov. 22, 1694. Patrick Kinninmouth, of that Ilk, was brought to trial for blasphemy and adultery. The indictment alleged, he had affirmed Christ was a bas- tard. And that he had said, ' If any woman had God on one side, and Christ on the other, he would stow [cut] the lugs [ears] out of her head in spite of them both.' He pleaded chiefly that he was drunk or mad when he uttered these expressions, if he did utter them. The court found the libel relevant to infer the pains li- belled, i. e. death; and found the defence, that the pannel was furious or distracted in his wits relevant: but repelled the alledgance of fury or distraction aris- ing from drunkenness.' It thus appears that the laws both of Scotland and England agree in considering drunkenness no pallia- tion of crime, but rather the reverse ; and it is well that it is so, seeing that ebriety could be easily counter- feited, and made a cloak for the commission of atroci- ous offences. By the laws, drunkenness is looked upon as criminal, and this being the case, they could not consistently allow one crime to mitigate the penalties due to another. There is only one case where drunkenness can ever be alleged in mitigation of punishment—that is, where it has induced' a state of mind perfectly akin to insanity.' It is, in fact, one of the common causes of that disease. The partition line between intoxication and insanity, may hence become a subject of discussion. ' William M'Donough was indicted and tried for the murder of his wife, before the supreme court of the State of Massachusetts, in November, 1817. It ap- peared in testimony, that several years previous he had received a severe injury of the head ; that although re- lieved of this, yet its effects were such as occasionally to render him insane. At these periods he complained greatly of his head. The use of spiritous liquors im- mediately induced a return of the paroxysms, and in one of them, thus induced he murdered his wife. He was with great propriety found guilty. The voluntary use of a stimulus which, he was fully aware, would disorder his mind, fully placed him under the power of the law,'* ' In the state of New-York, we have a statue which places the property of habitual drunkards under the care of the chancellor, in the same manner as that of lunatics. The overseer of the poor in each town may, when they discover a person to be an habitual drunkard, apply to the chancellor for the exercise of his power * BeckonMedicalJurispruden.ee. 86 ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. and jurisdiction. And in certain cases, when the per- son considers himself aggrieved, it may be investigated by six freeholders, whether he is actually what he is de- scribed to be, and their declaration is, prima facie, evi- dence of the fact.'* "(This act was passed March 16, 1821.] ' In Rydgway v. Darwin, Lord Eldon cites a case where a commission of lunacy was supported against a person, who, when sober, was a very sensible man, but being in a constant state of intoxication, he was inca- pable of managing his property.'! CHAPTER XIV. METHOD OF CURING THE HABIT OF DRUNKENNESS. To remove the habit of drunkenness from any one in whom it has been long established, is a task of pecu- liar difficulty. We have not only to contend against the cravings of the body, but against those of the mind; and in struggling with both, we are, in reality, carrying on a combat with nature herself. The system no long- er performs its functions in the usual manner ; and to restore these functions to their previous tone of action, is more difficult than it would be to give them an action altogether the reverse of nature and of health. The first step to be adopted, is the discontinuance of all liquors or substances which have the power of in- toxicating. The only question is—should they be dropped at once, or by degrees 1 Dr Trotter, in his Es- say on Drunkenness, has entered into a long train of argument, to prove that, in all cases, they ought to be given up instantcr. He contends, that, being in them- selves injurious, their sudden discontinuance cannot possibly be attended with harm. But his reasonings on this point, though ingenious, are not conclusive. A dark unwholesome dungeon is a bad thing, but it has been remarked, that those who have been long confined to such a place, have become sick if suddenly exposed to the light and pure air, on recovering their liberty: had this been done by degrees, no evil effects would have ensued. A removal from an unhealthy climate (to which years had habituated a man) to a healthy one, has sometimes been attended with similar consequences. Even old ulcers cannot always be quickly healed up with safety. Inebriation becomes, as it were, a second * Beck on Medical Jurisprudence. f Collinson on Lunacy. ' The laws against intoxication are enforced with great rig- our in Sweden. Whoever is seen drunk, is fined,-for the first offence, three dollars; for the second, six, for the third anil fourth, a still larger sum, and is also deprived of the right of voting at elections, and of being appointed a representative. He is, besides, publicly exposed in the parish church en the follow- ing Sunday. If the same individual is found committing the same offence a fifth time, he is shut up in a house of correction, and condemned to six months' hard labour ; and if he is again guilty, of a twelvemonths' punishment of a similar description. If the offence has been committed in public, such as at a fair, an auction, &.c, the fine is doubled ; and if the offender has made his appearance in a church, the punishment is still move severe. Whoever is convicted of having induced another to intoxicate himself, is fined three dollars, which sum is doubled if the per- son is ajninor. An ecclesiastic who falls into this offence loses his benefice : if it is a layman who occupies any considerable post, his functions are suspended, and perhaps he is dismissed. Drunkenness is never admitted as an excuse for any crime ; and whoever dies when drunk is buried ignominiously, and deprived of the prayers of the church. It is forbidden to give and more explicitly to sell, any spirituous liquors to students, workmen, servants, apprentices, and private soldiers. Whoever is observ- ed drunk in the streets, or making a noise in a tavern, is sure to be taken to prison and detained till sober, without, however, be- ing on that account exempted from the fines. Half of these fines goes to the informers, (who are generally police officers,) the other half to the poor. If the delinquent has no money, he is kept in prison until some one pays.for him, or until he has work- ed out his enlargement. Twice a-year these ordinances are read aloud from the pulpit by the clergy ; and every tavern. keeper is bound under the penalty of "a heavy fine, to have a copy of them hung up in the principal rooms of hi3 house.'— Schubert's Travel* in Sweden., nature, and is not to be rapidly changed with impunity, more than other natures. Spurzheim* advances the same opinion. 'Drunkards,' says he, 'cannot leave off their bad habits suddenly, without injuring their health.' Dr Darwin speaks in like terms of the injurious effects of too sudden a change ; and for these, and other rea- sons about to be detailed, I am disposed, upon the whole, to coincide with them. If we consider attentively the system of man, we will be satisfied that it accommodates itselRo various states of action. It will perform a healthy action, of which there is only one state, or a diseased action, of which there are a hundred. The former is uniform, and homo- geneous. It may be raised or lowered, according to the state of the circulation, but its nature is ever the same : when that changes—when it assumes new char- acters—it is no longer the action of health, but of dis- ease. The latter may be multiplied to infinity, and varies with a thousand circumstances ; such as the or- gan which is affected, and the substance which is taken. Now, drunkenness in the long run, is one of those dis- eased actions. The system no longer acts with its original purity : it is operated upon by a fictitious ex- citement, and, in the course of time, assumes a state quite foreign to its original constitution—an action which, however unhealthy, becomes, ultimately, in some measure, natural. When we use opium for a long time, we cannot immediately get rid of it, because it has given rise to a false action in the system—which would suffer a sudden disorder if deprived of its accus- tomed stimulus. To illustrate this, it may be mention- ed, that when Abbas the Great published an edict to prohibit the use of coquenar, (the juice of boiled pop- pies,) on account of its dismal effects on the constitu- tion, a great mortality followed, which was only stopped at last by restoring the use of the prohibited beverage. Disease, under such circumstances, triumphs over health, and has established so strong a hold upon the body, that it is dislodged with difficulty by its lawful possessor. When we wish to get rid of opium, or any other narcotic to which we are accustomed, we must do so by degrees, and let the healthy action gradually expel the diseased one. Place spirits or wine in the situation of opium, and the results will be the same. For these reasons, I am inclined to think, that, in many cases at least, it would be improper and dangerous to remove intoxicating liquors all at once from the drunk- ard. Such a proceeding seems at variance with the established actions of the human body, and as injudi- cious as unphilosophical. I do not, however, mean to say, that there are no cases in which it would be necessary to drop liquors all at once. When much bodily vigour remains—when the morning cravings for the bottle are not irresistible, nor the appetite altogether broken, the person should give over his bad habits instantly. This is a state of incipient drunkenness. He has not yet acquired the constitution of a confirmed sot, and the sooner he ceases the better. The immediate abandonment of drinking may also, in general, take place when there is any organic disease, such as enlarged liver, dropsy, or schirrus stomach. Under these circumstances, the'sa- crifice is much less than at a previous period, as the frame has, in a great measure, lost its power of with- standing liquors, and the relish for them is also consi- derably lessened. But even then, the sudden depriva- tion of the accustomed stimulus has been known to produce dangerous exhaustion; and it has been found necessary to give it again, though in more moderate quantities. Those drunkards who have no particular disease, unless a tremor and loss of appetite be so de nominated, require to be deprived of the bottle by de- grees. Their system would be apt to fall into a state of torpor if it were suddenly taken away, and various mental diseases, such as melancholy, madness, and de- * Yiew of the Elementary Principles of Education. ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. 87 hrium tremens, might even be the result. With such persons, however, it must be acknowledged that theie is very great difficulty in getting their potations dimin- ished. Few have fortitude to submit to any reduction. There is, as the period of the accustomed indulgence arrives, an oppression and faintness at the prcecordia, which human natuie can scarcely endure, together with a gnawing desire,' infinitely more insatiable than the longings of a pregnant woman. To prove the intensity of the desire for the bottle, and the difficulty, often insurmountable, of overcoming it, I extract the following interesting and highly char- acteristic anecdote from a recent publication :—' A gentleman of very amiable dispositions, and justly popu- lar, contracted habits of intemperance : his friends ar- gued, implored, remonstrated ; at last he put an end to all importunity in this manner :—To a friend who was addressing him in the following strain—' Dear Sir George, your family are in the utmost distress on ac- count of this unfortunate habit; they perceive that business is neglected ; your moral influence is gone ; your health is ruined ; and, depend upon it, the coats of your stomach will soon give way, and then a change will come too late.' The poor victim, deeply convinced of the hopelessness of his case, replied thus :—' My good friend, your remarks are just; they are, indeed, too'true ; but I can no longer resist temptation : if a bottle of brandy stood at one hand, and the pit of hell yawned at the other, and if 1 were convinced I would be pushed in as sure as I took one glass, I could not refrain. You are very kind. I ought to be grateful for sq many kind good friends, but you may spare your- selves the trouble of trying to reform me : the thing is impossible.' ' The observation of almost every man must have fur- nished him with cases not less striking than the above. I could relate many such which have occurred in my own practice, but shall at present content myself with one. I was lately consulted by a young gentleman of fortune from the north of England. He was aged twenty-six, and was one of the most lamentable in- stances of the resistless tyranny of this wretched habit that can possibly be imagined. Every morning, before breakfast, he drank a bottle of brandy : another he consumed between breakfast and dinner ; and a third shortly before going to bed. Independently of this, he indulged in wine and whatever liquor came within his reach. Even during the hours usually appropriated to sleep, the same system was pursued—brandy being placed at the bed side for his use in the night-time. To this destructive vice he had been addicted since his sixteenth year and it had gone on increasing from day to day, till it had acquired its then alarming and almost incredible magnitude. In vain did he try to resist the insidious poison. With the perfect consciousness that he was rapidly destroying himself, and with every de- sire to struggle against the insatiable cravingo of his diseased appetite, he found it utterly impossible to of- fer the slightest opposition to them. Intolerable sick- ness, faintings, and tremors, followed every attempt to abandon his potations ; and had they been taken suddenly away from him, it cannot be doubted that delirium tremens and death would have been the re- There are many persons that cannot be called drunk- ards, who, nevertheless, indulge pretty freely in the bottle, though after reasonable intervals. Such persons usually possess abundance of health, and resist intoxi- cation powerfully. Here the stomach and system in general lose their irritability, in the same way as in con- firmed topors, but this is more from torpor than from weakness. The springs of life become less delicate ; the pivots on which they move get, as it were, clogged, and though existence goes on with vigour, it is_not the 'bounding and elastic vigour of perfect health. This p-oceeds, no°t from debility but from torpor ; the mus- cular fibre becoming, like the hands of a labouring man hardened and blunted in its sensibilities. Such are the effects brought on by a frequent use of inebriating agents, but an excessive use in every case gives rise to weakness. This the system can only escape by a pro- per interval being allowed to elapse between our indul- gences. But if dose be heaped on dose, before it has time to rally from former exhaustion, it becomes more and more debilitated ; the blood ceases to circulate with its wonted force; the secretions get defective, and the tone of the living fibre daily enfeebled. A de- bauch fevers the system, and no man can stand a per- petual succession of fevers without injuring himself, and at last destroying life. Drunkenness, in the long run changes its character. The sensations of the confirmed tippler, when intoxi- cated, are nothing, in point of pleasure, to those of the habitually temperate man, in the same condition. We drink at first for the serenity which is diffused over the mind, and not from any positive love we bear to the liquor. But, in the course of time, the influence ol the latter, in producing gay images, is deadened. It is then chiefly a mere animal fondness for drink which actuates us. We like the taste of it, as a child likes sweetmeats ; and the stomach, for a series of years, has been so accumstomed to an unnatural stimulus, that it cannot perform its functions properly with- out it. In such a case, it may readily be believ- ed that liquor could not be suddenly removed with safety. The habit will sometimes be checked by operating skilfully upon the mind. If the person has a feeling heart, much may be done by representing to him the state of misery into which he will plunge himself, his family, and his friends. Some men by a strong effort, have given up liquors at once, in consequence of such representations. Some drunkards have attempted to cure themselves by the assumption of voluntary oaths. They go before a magistrate, and swear that, for a certain period, they shall not taste liquors of any kind ; and it is but just to state, that these oaths are sometimes strictly enough kept They are, however, mnch oftener broken—the physical cravings for the bottle prevailing over whatever religious obligation may have been entered into. Such a proceed- ing is as absurd as it is immoral, and never answer the purpose of effecting any thing like a radical cure ; for, although the person abides by his solemn engagement, it is only to resume his old habits more inveterately than ever, the moment it expires. Many men become drunkards from family broils. They find no comfort at home, and gladly seek for it out of doors. In such cases, it will be almost impos- sible to break the habit. The domestic sympathies and affections, which oppose a barrier to dissipation, and wean away the mind from the bottle, have here no room to act. When the mother of a family becomes addicted to liquor, the case is very afflicting. Home instead of being the seat of comfort and order, becomes a species of Pandemonium : the social circle is broken up, and all its happiness destroyed. In this case there is no remedy but the removal of the drunkard. A feel- ing of perversity has been known to effect a cure among the fajr sex. A man of Philadelphia, who was afflicted with a drunken wife, put a cask of rum in her way, in the charitable hope that she would drink her- self to death. She suspected the scheme, and, from, a mere principle of contradiction, abstained in all time coming, from any sort of indulgence in the bottle. I may mention another American anecdote of a person reclaimed from drunkenness, by means not less singular. A man in Maryland, notoriously addicted to this vice, hearing an uproar in h*s kitchen one evening, felt the curiosity to step without noise to the door, to know what was the matter, when he beheld his servants in- dulging in the most unbounded roar of laughter at a 88 ANATOMY OF couple Of his negro boys, who were mimicking himself in his drunken fits, showing how he reeled and stagger- ed—how he looked and nodded, and hiccupped and tumbled. The picture which these children of nature drew of him, and which had filled the rest with so much merriment, struck him so forcibly, that he became a perfectly sober man, to the unspeakable joy of his wife and children. Man is very much the creature of habit. By drink- ing regularly at certain times, he feels the longing for liquor at the stated return of those periods—as after dinner, or immediately before going to bed, or whatever the period may be. He even feels it in certain com- panies, or in a particular tavern at which he is in the habit of taking his libations. We have all heard the story of the man who could never pass an inn on the roadside without entering it and taking a glass, and who, when, after a violent effort, he succeeded in get- ting beyond the spot, straightway returned to reward himself with a bumper for his resolution. It is a good rule for drunkards to break all such habits. Let the frequenter of drinking clubs, masonic lodges, and other Bacchanalian assemblages, leave off attending these places; and if he must drink, let him do so at home, where there is every likelihood his potations will be less liberal. Let him also forswear the society .of boon companions, either in his own habitation or in theirs. Let him, if he can manage it, remove from the place of his usual residence, and go somewhere else. Let him also take abundance of exercise, court the society of in- tellectual and sober persons, and turn his attention to reading, or gardening, or sailing, or whatever other amusement he has a fancy for. By following this ad- vice rigidly, he will get rid of that baleful habit which haunts him like his shadow, and intrudes itself by day and by night into the sanctuary of his thoughts. And if he refuses to lay aside the Circean cup, let him re- flect that Disease waits upon his steps—that Dropsy, Palsy, Emaciation, Poverty, and Idiotism, followed by the pale phantom, Death, pursue him like attendant spirits, and claim him as their prey. Sometimes an attack of disease has the effect of so- bering drunkards for the rest of their lives. I knew a gentleman who had apoplexy in consequence of dissi- pation. He fortunately recovered, but the danger which he had escaped made such an impression upon his mind, that he never, till his dying day, tasted any liquor stronger than simple water. Many persons, after such changes, become remarkably lean; but this is not an unhealthy emaciation. Their mental powers also suffer a very material improvement—the intellect be- coming more powerful, and the moral feelings more soft and refined. In a small treatise on Naval Discipline, lately pub- lished, the following whimsical and ingenious mode of punishing drunken seamen is recommended :—■' Sepa- rate for one month every man who was found drunk, from the rest of the crew : mark his clothes ' drunkard;' give him six-water grog, or, if beer, mixed one- half water; let them dine when the crew had fin- ished ; employ them in every dirty and disgraceful work, &c. This had such a salutary effect, that in less than six months not a drunken man was to be found in the ship. The same system was introduced by the writer into every ship on board which he subsequently served. When first lieutenant of the Victory and Dio- mede, the beneficial consequences were acknowledged —the culprits were heard to say that they would rather receive six dozen lashes at the gangway, and be done with it, than be put into„the ' drunken mess' (for so it was named) for a month.' Those persons who have been for many years in the habit of indulging largely in drink, and to whom it has become an elixir vita indispensable to their happiness, cannot be suddenly deprived of it. This should be done by slow degrees, and must be the result of conviction. RUNKENNESS. If the quantity be forcibly diminished against the per- son's will, no good can be done ; he will only seize the first opportunity to remunerate himself for what he has been deprived' of, and proceed to greater excesses than before. If his mind can be brought, by calm reflection, to submit to the decrease, much may be accomplished in the way of reformation. Many difficulties undoubt- edly attend this gradual process, and no ordinary strength of mind is required for its completion. It is, however, less dangerous than the method recommended by Dr Trotter, and ultimately much more effectual. Even although his plan were free of hazard, its effects are not likely to be lasting. The unnatural action, to which long intemperance had given rise, clings to the system with pertinacious adherence. The remembrance of liquor, like a delightful vision, still attaches itself to the drunkard's mind ; and he longs with insufferable ardour, to feel once more the ecstacies to which it gave birth. This is the consequence of a too rapid separa- tion. Had the sympathies of nature been gradually operated upon, there would have been less violence, and the longings had a better chance of wearing insen- sibly away. Among the great authorities for acting in this man- mer, may be mentioned the celebrated Dr Pitcairri. In attempting to break the habit in a Highland chieftain, one of his patients, he exacted a promise that the latter would every day drop as much sealing-wax into his glass as would receive the impression of his seal. He did so, and as the wax accumulated, the capacity of the glass diminished, an I, consequently, the quantity of whiskey it was capable of containing. By this plan he was cured of his bad habit altogether. In mentioning such a whimsical proceeding, I do not mean particular- ly to recommend it for adoption ; although I am satis- fied that the principle on which its eccentric contriver proceeded was substantially correct. A strong argument against too sudden a change is afforded in the case of food. I have remarked that persons who are in the daily habit of eating animal food feel a sense of weakness about the stomach if they suddenly discontinue it, and live for a few davs entirely upon vegetables. This I have experienced personally, in various trials made for the purpose ; and every person in health, and accustomed to good living, will, I am persuaded, feel the same thing. The stomach, from want of stimulus, loses its tone; the craving for animal food is strong and incessant; and, if it be resisted, heart-burn, water-brash, and other forms of indigestion, are sure to ensue. In such a case vegetables are loathed as intolerably insipid, and even bread is looked upon with disrelish and aversion. It is precisely the same with liquors. Their sudden dis- continuance, where they have been long made use of, is almost sure to produce the same, and even worse consequences to the individual. I cannot give any directions with regard to the regi- men of a reformed drunkard. This will depend upon different circumstances, such as age, constitution, dis- eases, and manner of living. It may be laid down as a general rule, that it ought to be as little heating as possible. , A milk or vegetable diet will commonly be preferable to every other. But there are cases in which food of a richer quality is requisite, as when there is much emaciation and debility. Here it may even be necessary to give a moderate quantity of wine. In gout, likewise, too great a change of living is not always salutary, more especially in advanced years, where there is weakness of the digestive organs, brought on by the disease. In old age, wine is often useful to sustain the system, more especially when sinking by the process of natural decay. The older a person is, the greater the inconvenience of abstaining all at once from liquors, and the more slowly ought they to be taken away. I cannot bring myself to believe that a man who for half a century has drunk freely, ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNES-S. 89 can suddenly discontinue this ancient habit without a certain degree of risk ; the idea is opposed to all that we know ot the bodily and mental functions. in attempting to cure the habit of drunkenness, opium may sometimes be used with advantage. By giving it in moderate quantities, the liquor which the person is in the habit of taking, may be diminished to a considerable extent, and he may thus be enabled to leave them off altogether. There is only one risk, and it is this—that he may become as confirmed a votary of opium as he was before of strong liquors. Of two evils, however, we should always choose the least: and it is certain that however perniciously opium may act upon the system, its moral effects and its power of in- juring reputation are decidedly less formidable than those of the ordinary intoxicating agents. The following anecdote has been communicated to me by the late Mr Alexander Balfour, (author of " Contemplation,' ' Weeds and Wildflowers,' and other ingenious works,) and exhibts a mode of curing dram- drmking equally novel and effective : About the middle of last century, in a provincial town on the east coast of Scotland, where smuggling was common, it was the practice for two respectable merchants to gratify themselves with a social glass of good Hollands, for which purpose they regularly ad- journed at a certain hour, to a neighboring gin-shop. It happened one morning that something prevented one of them from calling-on his neighbor at the usual time. Many a wistful and longing look was cast for the friend so unaccourtably absent, but he came not. His dis- appointed companion would not go to the dram-shop alone ; but ne afterwards acknowledged that the want of his accustomed cordial rendered him uneasy the whole day. However, this feeling induced him to re- flect on the bad habit he was acquiring, and the conse- quences which were likely to follow. He therefore re- solved to discontinue dram-drinking entirely, but found it difficult to put his resolution into practice, until, after some deliberation, he hit upon the following expe- dient :—Filling a bottle with excellent Hollands, he lodged it in his back-shop, and the first morning taking his dram, he replaced it with simple water. Next morning he took a second dram, replacing it with water ; and in this manner he went on, replacing the fluid sub- tracted from the bottle with water, till at last the mix- ture became insipid and ultimately nauseous, which had such an effect upon his palate, that he was completely cured of his bad habit, and continued to live in exemp- lary soberness till his death, which happened in ex- treme old age. Dr Kain, an American physician, recommends tartar emetic for the cure of habitual drunkenness. ' Pos- sessing' he observes, 'no positive taste itself, it com- municates a disgusting quality to those fluids in which it is dissolved. I have often seen persons who, from takino- a medicine in the form of antimonial wine, could never'afterwards drink wine. Nothing, therefore, seems better calculated to form our indication of breaking up the association, in the patient's feelings, between his disease and the relief to be obtained from stimulating liquors. These liquors, with the addition of a very small quantity of emetic tartar, instead of relieving, in- crease the sensation of loathing of food, and quickly produce in the patient an indomitable repugnance to the vehicle of its administration.' ' My method of pre- scribing it, has varied accordingly to the habits, age, and constitution of the patient. I give it only in alter- ative slightly nauseating doses. A convenient pre- paration of the medicine is eight grains dissolved in four ounces of boiling water—half an ounce of the solution to be put into half-pint, pint, ot quart of the patient's favorite liquor, and to be taken daily in divided portions. If severe vomiting and purging ensue, I should direct laudanum to allay the irritation, and diminish the dose. In every patient it should be varied according to its effects. In one instance, in a patient who lived ten miles from me, severe vomiting was pro- duced, more, I think, from excessive drinking, than the use of the remedy. He recovered from it, however, without any bad effects. In some cases, the change suddenly produced in the patient's habits, has brought on considerable lassitude and debility, which were o\ but short duration. In a majority of cases, no otheij effect has been perceptible than slight nausea, some diarrhoea, and a gradual, but Very uniform, distaste tq the menstruum.'* | Having tried tartar emetic in several instances, I carl bear testimony to its good effects in habitual drunken- ness. The active ingredient in Chambers's celebrated nostrum for the cure of ebriety, was this medicine! Tartar emetic, however, must always be used with cau-i tion, and never except under the eye of a medical mam as the worst consequences might ensue from the indis- creet employment of so active an agent. It seems probable" that, in plethoric subjects the ha-] bit of drunkenness might be attacked with some suc-l cess by the application of leeches,' cold applications and blisters to the head, accompanied by purgatives ana nauseating doses of tartar emetic. Dr Caldwell of Lexington, conceives drunkenness to be entirely a dis- ease of the brain, especially of the animal compartments of this vjscus, and more especially of that portion cal- led by phenologists the organ otalimcnliveness, on which the appetite for food and drink is supposed mainly to depend. Should his views be correct, the above treat- ment seems eligible, at least in drunkards of a full habit of body, and in such cases it is certainly worthy of a full trial. I refer the reader to Dr Caldwell's Essay, in which both the above doctrine and the practice founded upon it are very ably discussed. It is, indeed, one of the ablest papers which has hitherto appeared upon the subject of drunkenness, t It very often happens, after a long course of dissipa- tion, and that the stomach loses its tone, and rejects almost every thing that is swallowed. The remedy, in this case, is opium, which should be given in the solid form in preference to any other. Small quantities of negus are also beneficial; and the carbonate of am- monia, combined with some aromatic, is frequently at- tended with the best effects. When there is much prostration of strength, wine should always be given. In such a case, the entire removal of the long-accus- tomed stimulus would be attended with the worst ef- fects. This must be done gradually. Enervated drunkards will reap much benefit by re- moving to the country, if their usual residence is in town. The free air and exercise renovate their en- feebled frames; new scenes are presented to occupy their attention; and, the mind being withdrawn from former scenes, the chain of past associations is broken in two. Warm and cold bathing will occasionally be useful, according to circumstances. Bitters are not to be re- commended, especially if employed under the medium of spirits. When there is much debility, chalybeates will prove serviceable. A visit to places where there are mineral springs is of use, not only from the waters, but from the agreeable society to be met with at such quarters. The great art of breaking the habit consists in managing the drunkard with kindness and address. This managment must, of course, be modified by the events which present themselves, and which will vary in different cases. Persons residing in tropical climates ought, more than others, to avoid intoxicating liquors. It is too much the practice in the West Indies to allay thirst by copious draughts of rum punch. In the East Indies, the natives, with great propriety, principally use rice- * American Journal of the Medical Sciences, No. IV. f See Transylvinia Journal of Medicine and the Associata Sciences, fur July, August, and September, 1832. 90 ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. water, (congee;) while the Europeans residing there, are in the habit of indulging in Champagne, Madeira, and other rich wines, which may in a great measure account for the mortality prevailing among them in "hat region. A fearful demoralization, as well as loss of life, is occasioned among the British troops in the East and West Indies, from the cheapness of spiritous liquors, which enables them to indulge in them to excess. 1 Since the institution of the recorder's and supreme courts at Madras,' says Sir Thomas' Hislop, ' no less -,han thirty-four British soldiers have forfeited their lives for murder, and most of them were committed in their intoxicated moments.' DrRollo relates, that the 45th regiment, while stationed in Grenada, lost within a very few weeks, twenty-six men out of ninety-six; at a time, too, when the island was remarkably healthy. On inquiry, it was found that the common breakfast of the men was raw spirits and pork. It is remarked by Des- gennetts, in his medical history of the French army in Egypt, that,' daily experience demonstrates that almost all the soldiers who indulge in intemperate habits, and are attacked with fevers, never recover.' In countries where the solar influence is felt with such force, we cannot be too temperate. The food should be chiefly vegetable, and the drink as unirritating as possible. It may be laid down as an axiom, that in these regions, wine and ardent spirits are invariably hurtful; not only in immediately heating the body, but in exposing it to the influence of othe'r diseases.* A great portion of the deaths which occur among Europeans in the tro- pics, are brought on by excess. Instead of suiting their regimen to the climate, they persist in the habits of their own country, without reflecting that what is comparatively harmless in one region, is most destruc- tive in anofher. There cannot be a stronger proof of this than the French troops in the West Indies having almost always suffered less in proportion to their num- bers than the British, who are unquestionably more addicted to intemperance. 'I aver, from my own knowledge and custom,' observes DrMosely, 'as from the custom and observation of others, that those who drink nothing but water, are but little affected by the climate, and can undergo the greatest fatigue without inconvenience.'t It is a common practice in the west of Scotland to send persons who are excessively addicted to drunk- enness, to rusticate and learn sobriety on the islands of Loch Lomond. There are,' I believe, two islands ap propriated for the purpose, where the convicts meet with due attention, and whatever indulgences their friends choose to extend towards them. Whether such a proceeding is consistent with law, or well adapted to answer the end in view, may be reasonably doubted ; out of its severity, as a punishment, there can be nO question. It is indeed impossible to inflict any penalty upon drunkards so great as that of absolutely debarring them from indulging in liquor. In the next chapter, I shall consider the method of curing and preventing drunkenness by means of tem- perance societies. CHAPTER XV. TEMPERANCE SOCIETIES. Much has been said and written of late concerning temperance societies. They have been represented by their friends as powerful engines for effecting a total * In warm countries, the acqueous part of the blood loses it- self greatly by perspiration ; it must therefore be supplied by a like liquid. Water is there of admirable use ; strong liquors would coagulate the globules of blood that remain after the transuding of the acqueous humour.—Montesquieu, Book xiv. Chap. x. g,.f Tropical Diseases. reformation from drunkenness, and improving the whole face of society, by introducing a purer morality, and banishing the hundred-headed monster, intemperance, and all its accompanying vices, from the world. By their opponents, they have been ridiculed as visionary and impracticable—as, at best, but temporary in their influence—as erroneous in many of their leading views —as tyrannical, unsocial, and hypocritical. Their members are represented as enthusiasts and fanatics ; and the more active portion of them,—those who lec- ture on the subject, and go about founding societies,— traduced as fools or impostors. Such are the various views entertained by different minds of temperance soci- eties ; but, leaving it to others to argue the point, for or ao-ainst, according to their inclinations, I shall simply state what I think myself of these institutions—how far they do good or harm—and under what circumstances they ought to be thought favourable of, or the reverse. Truth generally lies in mediis rebus, and I suspect they will not form an exception to the rule. Temperance societies proceed upon the belief that ardent spirits are, under all circumstances, injurious to people in health, and that, therefore, they ought to be altogether abandoned. I am anxious to think favour- ablyof any plan which has for its object the eradication of drunkenness ; and shall therefore simply express my belief that those societies have done good, and ought therefore to be regarded with a favourable eye. That they have succeeded, or ever will succeed, in reclaim- ing any considerable number of drunkards, I have great doubts ; but that they may have the effect of preventing many individuals from becoming drunkards, is exceed- ingly probable. If this can be proved,—which I think it may without much difficulty,—it follows that they are beneficial in their nature, and, consequently, deserving of encouragement. That they are wrong in supposing ardent spirits invariably hurtful in health, and they are also in error in advocating the instant abandonment, in all cases, of intoxicating liquors, I have little doubt; but that they are correct in their great leading views of the pernicious effects of spirits to mankind in general, and that their principles, if carried into effect, will pro- duce good, is self-evident. Spirits when used in mod- eration, cannot be looked upon as pernicious ; nay, in certain cases, even in health, they are beneficial and necessary. In countries subject to intermittents, it is very well known that those who indulge moderately in spirits are much less subject to these diseases than the strictly abstinent. ' At Walcheren it was remarked that those officers and soldiers who took schnaps, alias drams, in the morning, and smoked, escaped the fever which was so destructive to the British troops ; and the natives generally insisted upon doing so before going out in the morning.'* The following anecdote is equally in point. ' It took place on the Niagara fron- tier of Upper Canada, in the year 1813. A British regiment, from some accident, was prevented from re- ceiving the usual supply of spirits, and in a very short time, more than two-thirds of the men were on the sick list from ague or dysentery ; while, the very next year, on the same ground, and in almost every respect under the same circumstances, except that the men had their usual allowance of spirits, the sickness was extremely trifling. Every person acquainted with the circum- stances believed that the diminution of the sick, during the latter period, was attributable to the men having received the quantity of spirits to which they had been habituated.'t Indeed, I am persuaded that while, in the tropics, stimulating liquors are highly prejudicial, and often occasion, while they never prevent, disease, they are frequently of .great service in accomplishing the latter object in damp foggy countries, especially when fatigue, poor diet, agues, dysenteries, and other diseases of debility are to be contended against. It * Glasgow Medical Journal, No. XV. t Ibid." ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. 91 ^kS ^6en stated> ar'd, I believe with much truth, that the dystentery which has prevailed so much of late among the poorer classes in this country, has been in many cases occasioned, and in others aggravated, in consequence of the want of spirits, which, from the de- pressed state of trade, the working classes are unable to procure ; and should this assertion turn out to be correct, it follows, that temperance societies, by the rigid abstinence urged upon their members, have con- tributed to increase the evil. The system is fortified against this disorder, as well as various others, by a proper use of stimuli; while excess in the indulgence of these agents exposes it to the attack of every dis- ease, and invariably aggravates the danger. Water is unquestionably the natural drink of man, but in the ex- isting condition of things, we are no longer in a state of nature, and cases consequently often occur wherein we must depart from her original principles. There are many persons who find a moderate use of spirits neces- sary to the enjoyment of health. In these case's it would be idle to abandon them. They ought only to be given up when their use is not required by the sys- tem. That such is the case in a great majority of in- stances, must be fully admitted ; and it is to these that the principles of temperance societies can be applied with advantage. Considering the matter in this light, the conclusion we must come to is simply that ardent spirits sometimes do good, but much oftener mischief. By abandoning them altogether, we escape the mis- chief and lose the good. Such is the inevitable effect, supposing temperance societies to come into general operation. It remains, therefore, with people them- selves to determine whether they are capable of using spirits only when they are beneficial, and then with a due regard, to moderation. If they have so little self- command, the sooner they connect themselves with temperance societies the better. I believe that by a moderate indulgence in spirits no man can be injured, and that many will often be benefited. It is their abuse which renders them a curse rather than a blessing to mankind ; and it is with this abuse alone I find fault, in the same way as I would object to excess in eating, or any other excess. People, therefore, would do well to draw a distinction between the proper use and the abuse of these stimulants, and regulate themselves accordingly. Temperance societies, however, though erroneous in some of their principles, and injurious as applied to particular cases, may be of great use towards society in general. Proceeding upon the well-known fact that ardent spirits are peculiarly apt to be abused, and habitual drunkenness to ensue, they place these agents under the ban of total interdiction, and thus arrest the march of that baneful evil occasioned by their excessive use. So far, therefore, as the individual members of these institutions are concerned, a great good is effect- ed at the sacrifice of comparatively little. On such grounds, I fully admit their beneficial effects, and wish them all success. At the same time, many sober per- sons would not wish to connect themselves with them, for the plain reason—that having never felt any bad effects from the small quantity of ardent spirits they are in the habit of taking, but, on the contrary, some- times been the better for it—they would feel averse to come under any obligation to abstain from these liquors altogether. Such, I confess, are my own feelings on this subject; and in stating them I am fully aware that the advocates of the societies will answer—that a man's private inclinations should be sacrificed to public good, and that, for the sake of a general example, he should abandon that which, though harmless to him, in the limited extent to which he indulges in it, is pernicious to the mass of mankind. This argument is not with- out point, and upon many will tell with good effect, thoueh I believe, people m general will either not acknowledge its force, or, at least, refuse to act up to it. Temperance societies have had one effect: they have lessened the consumption of spiritous liquors to a vast extent, and have left that of wines and malt liquors undiminished, or rather increased it; for although the more strict members avoid even them, their use is not interdicted by the rules of the societies. By thus diminishing the consumption of spirits, they have been the means of shutting up many small public houses ; of keeping numerous tradesmen and laborers from the tavern; of encouraging such persons to sober habits, by recommending coffee instead of strong liquor ; and, generally speaking, of promoting industry and temperance. If a person were disposed to be very censorious, he might object to some other things connected with them, such as the inconsistency of allowing their members to drink wine and malt liquors, while they debar them from ardent spirits. They do this on the ground that on the two first a man is much less likely to become a drunk- ard than upon spirits—a fact which may be fairly ad- mitted, but which, I believe, arises, in some measure, from its requiring more money to get drunk upon malt liquors and wine than upon spirits. In abandon- ing the latter, however, and having recourse to the others, it is proper to state, that the person often practices a delusion upon himself; for in drinking wine, such at least as it is procured in this country, he in re- ality consumes a large proportion of pure spirits ; and malt liquors contain not only the alcoholic principle of intoxication, but are often sophisticated, as we have already seen, with narcotics. I believe that, though not in the majority of cases, yet in some, spirits in moderation are better for the system than malt liquors; this is especially the case in plethoric and dyspeptic subjects. Independently of this, it is much more dif- ficult to get rid of the effects of the latter. Much ex- ercise is required for this purpose ; and if such is neg- lected, and the person is of full habit of body, it would have been better if he had stuck by his toddy than run the risk- of getting overloaded with fat, and dropping down in a fit of apoplexy. I know several members of the temperance society who are practising upon themselves the delusion in question. They shun spirits, but indulge largely in porter—to the extent perhaps of a bottle a-day. No- body can deny that by this practice they will suffer a great deal more than if they took a tumbler or so of toddy daily ; and the consequences are the more per- nicious, because, while indulging in these libations, they imagine themselves to be all the while paragons of sobriety. Rather than have permitted such a license to their members, temperance societies should have proscribed malt liquors as they have done spirits. As it is, a person may be a member, and follow the rules of the societies, while he is all the time habituating himself to drunkenness. These facts, with all my re- spect for temperance societies, and firm belief in their utility, I am compelled to mention; and I do so the more readily, as there is a large balance of good in their favour, to overweigh whatever bad may be brought against them. But notwithstanding this, the fact that a habit of drunkenness is far more likely to be caused by indulg- ing habitually in spirits than in any thing else, is unde- niable ; and temperance societies, in lessening the con- sumption of spirits, have accomplished a certain good, in so far as they have thus been the means of diminishing, to a considerable extent, the vice of drunkenness, of reclaiming a few topers, and preventing many from be- coming so who would certainly have fallen into the snare, had they not been timely checked by their in- fluence and example. In conclusion, I have to repeat that I do not agree with the societies in considering ardent spirits always hurtful in health, or in recommending the instant dis- use of liquor in all cases of drunkenness. The reasons 92 ANATOMY OF D for entertaining my own opinions on these points are given in the work, and they are satisfactory to myself, whatever they may be to others. At the same time, I fully admit that these institutions may often prove eminently useful, and that the cases wherein they may be injurious to those connected with them, are not, many, compared to the mass of good which they are capable of effecting. The man, therefore, who feels the appetite for liquor stealing upon him, cannot adopt a wiser plan than to connect himself with a body, the members of which will keep him in countenance in so- briety, and, by their example, perhaps wean him away from the bottle, and thus arrest him on the road to ruin.* * The following account of temperance societies is by Pro- fessor Edgar, one of their most enthusiastic advocates:— ' Temperance societies direct their chief exertions against the use of distilled spirits, conceiving them to be the great bane of the community -, but they do not exclude these to introduce other intoxicating liquors in their room. Their object is to disabuse the public mind respecting the erroneous opinions and evil practices which produce and perpetuate intemperance ; and though they do not hold it to be sinful to drink wine, yet they are cheerfully willing to accord with the sentiment of inspiration,—' It is good neither to drink wine nor any thing whereby thy brother stum- bleth, or is offended, or is made weak.' Were the wine spoken of in Scripture alone used in these countries, they do not believe that there would be a necessity for temperance societies ; yet even from such wine, so different from that commonly in use, the Scriptures gave them the fullest liberty to refrain. Avoid- ing, however, all appearance of rigorous abstinence, they leave to every man's judgment and conscience, how far he shall feel himself warranted in the use of fermented liquors, and only in- sist, as their fundamental principle, on an abstinence from distil- led spirits, and a discountenancing of the causes and practices of intemperance. Their regulations respect persons in health alone ; with the prescriptions of physicians they do not interfere. Even the moderate use of distilled spirits they consider to be in- jurious ; and they call upon their brethren for their own sake, to renounce it. The great mass of excellences attributed to in- toxicating liquors, they believe to be fictitious ; and though all the virtues attributed to them were real, they are cheerfully wil- ■ ling to sacrifice them, while they have the remotest hope of thus cutting off even one of the sources of drunkenness, or arresting one friend or neighbor on the road to ruin. They do not look on the use of intoxicating liquors as necessary either to their health or happiness ; they do not love them, and therefore, they do not wish to represent an abstinence from them as, on their part, a great sacrifice ; and they trust that they only require to be con- vinced that the good of their brother demands it, to induce them to do much more than they have yet done. They know that the only prospect of reformation for the intemperate is immediate and complete abstinence, and they joyfully contribute their in- fluence and example to save bim. They know that the present customs and practices of the temperate, are now preparing a generation for occupying the room of those who shall soon sleep in drunkards' graves, and it is their earnest wish to exercise such a redeeming influence on the public mind, that should the present race of drunkards refuse to be saved, there may be none to fill their place when they are no more. The abstinence of the temperate, they are convinced, will accomplish this, and that "bstinence it is their business to promote by those means witn which the God of truth has furnished them. They believe that such abstinence, instead of being productive of any injury to the community, will greatly benefit it; and already there are the fairest prospects of the great objects of such voluntary ab- stinence being effected, by associations sustaining one another in new habits, to make them reputable and common. They re- quire no oaths, no vows ; their bond of obligation is a sense of duty, and subscription to their fundamental principle, is merely an expression of present conviction and determination. The law of temperance societies, like the Gospel is the law of lib- erty—the law which binds to do that which is considered a de- light and a privilege. They look forward to the time as not far distant* when the temperate, having withdrawn their support from the trade in ardent spirits, it shall be deserted by all respec- table men, and shall gradually die away, as premature death thins the ranks of drunkards ; they trust that the falsehoods by which temperate men have been cheated into the ordinary use of ardent spirits, will soon be completely exposed ; and that full information and proper feeling being extended, respecting the nature and effects of intoxicating liquors they will occupy their proper place, and the unnumbered blessings of temperance on individuals and families, and the whole community, will uni-\ versally prevail. Not only will temperance societies cutoff the resources of drunkenness, but to the reformed drunkard, they will open a refuge from the tyranny of evil customs, and they will support and encourage him in his new habits. To promote these invaluable objects, they call for the united efforts of all temperate men ; they earnestly solicit the assistance of physi- cians, of clergymen, of the conductors of public journals, of all men possessing authority and influence ; and by every thing sacred and good, they beseech drunkards to turn from the wick- edness of their wayu and live.' UNKENNESS'. CHAPTER XVI. ADVICE TO INVETERATE DRUNKARDS. If a man is resolved to continue a drunkard, it may here be proper to mention in what manner he can do so with least risk to himself. One of the principal rules to be observed, not only by him, but by habitually sober people, is never to take any inebriating liquor, especial- ly spirits, upon an empty stomach. There is no habit more common or more destructive than this : it not only intoxicates readier than when food has been pre- viously taken, but it has a much greater tendency to impair the functions of the digestive organs. In addi- tion, drunkards should shun raw spirits, which more rapidly bring on disease of the stomach, than when used in a diluted state. These fluids are safe in pro- portion to the state of their dilution ; but to this gene- ral rule there is one exception, viz. punch. This, though the most diluted form in which they are used, is, I suspect, nearly the very worst—not from the weakness of the mixture, but from the acid which is combined with it. This acid, although for the time being, it braces the stomach, and enables it to with- stand a greater portion of liquor than it would other- wise do, has ultimately the most pernicious effect upon this organ—giving rise to thickening of its coats, heart- burn, and all'the usual distressing phenomena of indi- gestion. Other organs, such as the kidneys, also suf- fer, and gravelly complaints are apt to be induced. A common belief prevails that punch is more salubrious than any other spirituous compound, but this is ground- ed on erroneous premises. When people sit down to drink punch they are not so apt—owing to the great' length of time which elapses ere such a weak fluid pro- duces intoxication—to be betrayed into excess as when indulging in toddy. In this point of view it may be said to be less injurious ; but let the same quantity of spirits be taken in the form of punch, as in that of grog or toddy, and there can be no doubt that in the long run the consequences will be far more Jatal to the con- stitution. If we commit a debauch on punch, the bad consequences cling much longer to the system than those proceeding from a similar debauch upon any oth- er combination of ardent spirits. In my opinion, the safest way of using those liquids is in the shape of grog.* Cold toddy, or a mixture of spirits, cold water and sugar, ranks next in the scale of safety ; then warm toddy ; then cold punch—and raw spirit istthe most pernicious of all. The malt-liquor drunkard should, as a generla rule, prefer porter to strong ale. Herb ale and purl aie very pernicious, but the lighter varities, such as small beer and home-brewed, are not only harmless but even use- ful. The person who indulges in malt liquor should take much exercise. If he neglects this, and yields to the indolence apt to be induced by these fluids, he be- comes fat and stupid, and has a stong tendency to apo- plexy, and other diseases of plethora. As to the wine-bibber, no directions can be given which will prove very satisfactory. The varities of wines are so numerous, that any complete estimate of their respective powers is here impossible. It may, however, be laid down as a general rule, that those which are most diuretic, and excite least headach and fever are the safest for the constitution. The light dry wines, such as Hock, Claret, Burgundy, Bucellas, Rhenish, and Hermitage, are, generally speaking, more salubrious * than the stronger varieties, such as Port, Sherry, or Madeira. Claret, in particular, is the * The origin of the term ' grog' is curious. Before the time of Admiral Vernon, rum was given in its raw state to the sea- men ; but he ordered it to be diluted, previous to .delivery, with a certain quantity of water. So incensed were the tars at this watering of their favourite liquor, that they nicknamed the Ad- miral Old grog, in allusion to a grogram coat which he was m habit of wearing : hence the name. ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. 93 most wholesome wine that is known. Tokay,* Fron- tignac, Malmsey, Vino Tinto, Montrflascone, Canary, and other sweet wines, are apt, in consequence of their imperfect fermentation, to produce acid upon weak stomachs; but in other cases they are delightful drinks ; and when there is no tendency to acidity in the system, they may be taken with comparative safety to a considerable extent. Whenever there is disease, attention must be paid to the wines best adapted to its particular nature. For instance, in gout, the aces- cent wines, such as Hock and Claret, must be avoid- ed, and Sherry, or Madeira substituted in their room ; and should even this run into the acetous fermentation, it must be laid aside, and replaced by weak brandy and water. Champagne, except in cases of weak digestion, is one of the safest wines that can be drunk. Its intoxicating effects are rapid, but exceed- ingly transient, and depend partly upon the carbonic acid which is evolved from it, and partly upon the alcohol which is suspended in this gas, being ap- plied rapidly and. extensively to a large surface of the stomach. Drunkards will do well to follow the maxim of the facetious Morgan Odoherty, and never mix their wines. Whatever wine they commence with, to that let them adhere throughout the evening. If there be any case where this rule may be transgressed with safety, it is perhaps in favour of Claret, a mod- erate quantity of which is both pleasant and refresh- ing after a course of Port or Madeira. Nor is the advice of the same eccentric authority with regard to malt liquors, less just or less worthy of observance __the toper being recommended to abstain scrupulous- ly from such fluids when he means beforehand to ' make an evening of it,' and sit long at the bottle. The mix- ture, unquestionably, not only disorders the stomach, but effectually weakens the ability of the person to withstand the forthcoming debauch. CHAPTER XVII. EFFECTS OF INTOXICATING AGENTS ON NURSES AND CHILDREN. Women, especially in a low station, who act as nurses, are strongly addicted to the practice of drinking porter and ales, for the purpose of augmenting then- milk This very common custom cannot be sufficiently deprecated. It is often pernicious to both parties, and may lay the foundation of a multitude of diseases m the infant. The milk, which ought to be bland and un- irritating, acquires certain heating qualities, and be- comes deteriorated to a degree of which those unac- customed to investigate such matters have little con- ception The child nursed by a drunkard is hardly ever healthy. It is, in a particular manner, subject to derangements of the digestive organs, or convulsive affections. With regard to the latter, Dr Northt re- marks that he has seen them almost instantly removed by the child being transferred to a temperate woman. I have observed the same thing, not only in convulsive cases, but many others. Nor are liquors the only agents whose properties are communicable to the nurs- ling It is the same with regard to opium, tobacco, and other narcotics. Purgatives transmit their powers in a similar manner, so much so, that nothing is more common than for the child suckled by a woman who has taken physic, to be affected with bowel complaint. No woman is qualified to be a nurse, unless strictly so- h r • and though stout children are sometimes reared bv persons who indulge to a considerable extent in £ ,k<,rinp I of Russia was intemperately addicted to the use f Tokay Sh« died of dropsy, which complaint was probably VpraS SSK the Couvul.ion, of Infants. liquor, there can be no doubt that they are thereby ex- posed to risk, and'that they would have had a mucn better chance of doing well, if the same quantity of milk had been furnished by natural, means. If a wo- man cannot afford the necessary.oupply without these indulgences, she should give over the infant to some one who can, and drop nursing altogether. The only cases in which a moderate portion of malt liquor is justifiable, are when the milk is deficient, and the nurse averse or unable to put another in her place. Here, of two evils, we choose the least, and rather give the in- fant milk of an inferior quality, than endanger its health, by weaning it prematurely, or stinting it of its accus- tomed nourishment. ^Donnected with this subject is the practice of ad- ministering stimulating liquors to children. This habit is so common in some parts of Scotland, that infants of a few da)is old are often forced to swallow raw whis- key. In like manner, great injury is often inflicted upon children by the frequent administration of lauda- num, paregoric, Godfrey's cordial, and other prepara- tions of opium. The child in a short time becomes pallid, emaciated, and fretful, and is subject to convul- sive attacks, and every variety of disorder in the stom- ach and bowels. Vomiting, diarrhoea, and other affec- tions of the digestive system ensue, and atrophy, fol- lowed by death, is too often the consequence. An experiment made by Dr Hunter upon two of his children, illustrates in a striking manner the pernicious effects of even a small portion of intoxicating liquors, in persons of that tender age. To one of the children he gave, every day after dinner, a full glass of Sherry : the child was five years of age, and unaccustomed to the use of wine. To the other child, of nearly the same age, and equally unused to wine, he gave an orange. In the course of a week, a very marked dif- ference was perceptible in the pulse, urine, and evacu- ations from the bowels of the two children. The pulse of the first child was raised, the urine high coloured, and the evacuations destitute of their usual quantity of bile. In the other child, no change whatever was pro- duced. He then reversed the experiment, giving to the first the orange, and to the second the wine, and the results corresponded : the child who had the orange continued well, and the system of the other got straight- way into disorder, as in the first experiment. Parents should therefore be careful not to allow their youthful offspring stimulating liquors of any kind, except m cases of disease, and then only under the guidance of a medical attendant. The earlier persons are initiated in the use of liquor, the more completely does it gain dominion over them, and the more difficult is the pas- sion for it to be eradicated. Children naturally djshke liquors—a pretty convincing proor that in early life they are totally uncalled for, and that they only become agreeable by habit. It is, in general, long before the palate is reconciled to malt liquors ; and most young persons prefer the sweet home-made wines of their own country, to the richer varieties imported from abroad. This shows that the love of such stimulants is in a great measure acquired, and also points out the necessity of guarding youth as much as possible from the acquisition of so unnatural a taste. CHAPTER XVIII. LIQUOKS NOT ALWAYS HURTFUL. Though drunkenness is always injurious, it does not follow that a moderate and proper use of those agents which produce it is so. These facts have been so fully illustratated that it is unnecessary to dwell longer upon them • and I only allude to them at present for the pur- pose of showing more fully a few circumstances in which all kinds of liquors may be indulged in, not only 94 A N A T O M Y OF D R U N KENNESS. without injury, but with absolute benefit. It is impos- sible to deny that in particular situations, as in those of hard-wrought sailors and soldiers, a moderate allowance is proper. The body, in such cases, would often sink under the accumulation of fatigue and cold, if not re- cruited by some artificial excitement. In both the naval and mercantile service the men are allowed a cer- tain quantity of grog, experience having shown the ne- cessity of this stimulus in such situations. When Captain Bligh and his unfortunate companions were ex- posed to those dreadful privations consequent to their being set adrift, in an open boat, by the mutineers of the Bounty, the few drops of rum which were occa- sionally doled out to each individual, proved of such incalculable service, that, without this providential aid, every one must have perished of absolute cold and ex- haustion.* The utility of spirits in enabling the frame to resist severe cold, I can still farther illustrate by a circumstance personal to myself; and there can be no doubt that the experience- of every one must have fur- nished him with similar examples. I was travelling on the top of the Caledonian coach, during an intensely cold day, towards the end of November, 1821. We left Inverness at five in the morning, when it was near- ly pitch dark, and when the thermometer probably stood at 18° of Fahr. I was disappointed of an inside seat, and was oblige*! to take one" on the top, where there were jiine outside passengers besides myself, mostly sportsmen returning from their campaigns in the moors. From being obliged to get up so early, and without having taken any refreshment, the cold was truly dreadful, and set fear-noughts, fur-caps, and ho- siery, alike at defiance. So situated, and whirling along at the rate of nearly nine miles an hour, with a keen east wind blowing upon us from the snow-covered hills, I do not exaggerate when I say, that some of us at least owed our lives to ardent spirits. The cold was so insufferable, that, on arriving at the first stage, we were nearly frozen to death. Our feet were perfectly benumbed, and our hands, fortified as they were with warm gloves, little better. Under such circumstances, we all instinctively called for spirits, and took a glass each of raw whiskey, and a little bread. The effect was perfectly magical : heat diffused itself over the sys- tem, arjd we continued comparatively warm and com- fortable till our arrival at Aviemore Inn, where we breakfasted. This practice was repeated several times during the journey, and always with the same good ef- fect When at any time the cold became excessive, we had recourse to our dram, which insured us warmth and comfort for the next twelve or fourteen miles, with- out, on any occasion, producing the slightest feeling of intoxication. Nor had the spirits which we took any bad effects either upon the other passeno-ers or myself. On the contrary, we were all, so far asl could learn, much the better of it; nor can there be a doubt that without spirits, or some other stimulating liquor' the consequences of such severe weather would have been highly prejudicial to most of us. Some persons deny that spirits possess the property of enabling the body to resist cold, but, in the face of such evidence I can never agree with them. That, under these circum- stances, they steel the system, at least for a consider- able time, against the effects of a low temperature, I am perfectly satisfied. Analogy is in favour of this as- sertion, and the experience of every man must prove * ' At day-break,' says Captain Bligh,' I s*erved to every per- sona tea-spoonfulof rum, our limbs being so much cramped that we could scarcely move them.' ' Being unusually wet and cold, I served to the neonle a tea epoonful of rum each, to enable them to bear with their distres- Bing situation.' iJm.UJ VP.^T waf miserable : always wet, and suffering ex- trcme cold m the night, without the least shelter from the wlath- er. The little rum we had was of the greatest service —when our nights were particularly distressing, I generally served a tea-spoonful or two to each person, arid it was always ioyfu! •idngs when they heard of my intention.'-Famtfy Libran,, Vol. xxv. Mutiny of the Bounty. J' its accuracy. At the same time, I do not mean to de- ny that wine or ale might have done the same thing equally well, and perhaps with less risk of ulterior con- sequences. We had no opportunity of trying their effi- cacy in these respects, and were compelled, in self-de- fence, to have recourse to what, in common cases ought to be shunned, viz. raw spirits. The case was an extreme one, and required an extreme remedy; such, however, as I would advise no one to have re- course to without a similar plea of strong necessity to go upon. It follows, then, that if spirits are often perverted to the worst purposes, and capable of producing the greatest calamities, they are also, on particular occa- sions, of unquestionable benefit. In many affections, both tbey and wine are of more use than any medicine the physician can administer. Wine is indicated in various diseases of debility. Whenever there is a deficiency of the vital powers, as in the low stages of typhus fever, in gangrene, putrid sore throat", and generally speaking, whenever weakness, unaccompanied by acute inflammation, prevails, it is capable of render- ing the most important services. Used in moderation, it enables the system to resist the attack of malignant and intermittent fevers. It is a promoter of digestion, but sometimes produces acidity, in which case, spirits are preferable. To assist the digestive process in weak stomachs, I sometimes prescribe a tumbler of negus or toddy to be taken after dinner, especially if the person be of a studious habit, or otherwise em- ployed in a sedantary occupation. Such individuals are often benefited by the stimulus communicated to the frame by these cordials. In diarrhaoa, dysentery, cholera, cramps, tremors, and many other diseases, both spirits and wine often tell with admirable effect, while they are contra-indicated in all inflammatory af- fections. Malt liquors also, when used in moderation, are often beneficial. Though the drunkenness pro- duced by their excessive use is of the most stupifying and disgusting kind, yet, when under temperate management, and accompanied by sufficient exercise, they are more wholesome than either spirits or wine. They abound in nourishment, and are well adapted to the laboring man, whose food is usually not of a very nutritive character. The only regret is, that they are much adulterated by narcotics. This renders them peculiarly improper for persons of a plethoric habit, and also prevents them from being employed in other cases where they might be useful. Persons of a spare habit of body, are those likely to derive most benefit from malt liquors. I often recommend them to delicate youths and young girls who are just shooting into maturity, and often with the best effect. Lusty, full- bodied, plethoric people, should abstain from them, at least from porter and 6trong ale, which are much too fattening and nutritious for persons of this description. They are also, generally speaking, injurious to indi- gestion and bowel complaints, owing to their tendency to produce flatulence. In such cases, they yield the palm to wine and spirits. It is to be regretted that the system of making home-brewed ale, common among the English, has made so little progress in Scotland. This excellent beverage is free from those dangerous combinations employed"by the brewers, and to the abormg classes in particular, is a most nourish- ing and salubrious drink. I fully agree with Sir John bmclarr in thinking, that in no respect is the alteration in diet more injurious than in substituting ardent spirits for ale—the ancient drink of the common people. though an occasional and moderate allowance of spirits will often benefit a working man, still the ten- dency of people to drink these fluids to excess renders even their moderate indulgence often hazardous ; and hence, in one respect, the superiority possessed over them by malt liquors. In higher circles, where there is good living and ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. 95 little work, liquors of any kind are far less neces- eary ; and, till a man gets into the decline of life, they are, except under such circumstances as have been de- tailed, absolutely useless. When he attains that age, he will be the better.of a moderate allowance to re- cruit the vigor which approaching years steal from the frame. For young and middle-aged men, in good cir- cumstances and vigorous health, water is the best drink ; the food they eat being sufficiently nutritious and stimulating without any assistance from liquor. For young people, in particular, liquors of all kinds are, under common circumstances, not only unneces- sary in health, but exceedingly pernicious, even in what the world denominate moderate quantities. This is especially the case when the habit is daily in- dulged in. One of the first physicians in Ireland has published his conviction on the result of twenty years' observation—' That were ten young men on their twenty- first birth day, to begin to drink one glass (equal to two ounces) of ardent spirits, or a pint of Port wine or Sherry, and were they to drink this supposed moderate quantity of strong liquor daily, the lives of eight out of the ten would be abridged by twelve or fifteen years.' ' An American clergyman,' says Professor Edgar, 'lately told me that one of his parishoners was in the habit of sending to his son at school a daily allowance of brandy and water, before the boy was twelve years of age. The consequence was, that his son, before the age of seventeen, was a confirmed drunkard, and he is now confined in a public hospital.' The force of this anec- dote must come home to every one. Nothing is more common, even in the best society, than the practice of administering wine, punch, &c, even to children— thus not only injuring their health, and predisposing them to disease, but laying the foundation for intem- perance in their maturer years. Having stated thus much, it is not to be inferred that I advocate the banishment of liquors of any kind from society. Though I believe mankind would be benefit- ed upon the whole, were stimulants to be utterly pro- scribed, yet, in the present state of things, and know- ing the fruitlessness of any such recommendation, I do not go the length of urging their total disuse. I only would wish to inculcate moderation, and that in its proper meaning, and not in the sense too often applied to it ; for, in the practice of many, moderation, (so called) is intemperance, and perhaps of rife most dan- gerous species, in so far as it becomes a daily practice, and insinuates itself under a false character, into the habits of life. Men thus indulge habitually, day by day, not perhaps to the extent of producing any evident effect either upon the body or mind at the time, and fancy themselves all the while strictly temperate, while they are, in reality, undermining their constitution by slow degrees—killing themselves by inches, and short- ening their existence several years. The quantity such persons take at a time, is perhaps moderate and beneficial, if only occasionally indulged in, but, being habitually taken, it injures the health, and thus amounts to actual intemperance. ' It is,' says DrBeecher, and I fully concur with him, ' a matter of unwonted cer- tainty, that habitual tippling is worse than periodical drunkenness. The poor Indian who once a-month drinks himself dead, all but simple breathing, will out- live for years the man who drinks little and often, and is not perhaps suspected of intemperance. The use of ardent spirits daily as ministering to cheerfulness or bodily vigour, ought to be regarded as intemper- ance. No person probably ever did or ever will receive ardents spirits into his system once a-day and fortify his constitution against its deleterious effects, or ex- ercise such discretion and self-government, as that the quantity will not be increased, and bodily infirmities and mental imbecility be the result ; and, in more than half the instances, inebriation. Nature may hold out long against this sapping and mining of the constitution which daily tippling is carrying on, but, first, or last, this foe of life will bring to the assault enemies of its own formation, before whose power the feeble and the mighty will be alike unable to stand. Let those, therefore, who will not abandon liquors, use them in moderation, and not habitually or day by day, unless the health should require it, for cases of this kind we sometimes do meet with, though by no means so often as many would believe. Abstractly considered, liquors are not injurious. It is their abuse that makes them so, in the same manner as the most wholesome food becomes pernicious when taken to an improper excess. APPENDIX. Excerpt from Pans' Pharmacologia. ♦ The characteristic ingredient of all wines is alco- hol, and the quantity of this, and the condition or stat* of combination in which it exists, are the circumsta*ees that inelude all the interesting and disputed po*"s m medical inquiry. Daily experience convince* ™ «"£ the same quantity of alcohol, applied to *e stomach under the form of natural wine, and in 3 state oi mix- ture with water, will produce very different effects upon the body, and to an extent which it is difficult to com- prehend : it has,, for instance, b=en demonstrated that Port, Madeira, and Sherry, contain from one-fourth to one-fifth of their bulk 6f alcohol, so that a person who takes a bottle of either of them, wil thus take nearly half a pint of alcohol, or almost a pint o.f pure brandy and moreover, that different wines, although of the same specific gravity, and consequently c-lammg ^ same absolute proportion of ^. nowm • no S very considerably in their intoacattng powers , no won der, then, that su«h results should stagger the philoso- pher, who is naturally unwilling to accept any tests of difference from the nervous system, which elude the ordinary resources of analytical chemistry ; the conclu- sion was therefore drawn, that alcohol must necessarily exist in wine, in a far different condition from that in which we know it in a separate state, or, in other words, that its elements only could exist in the vinous liquor, and that their union was determined, and, consequent- ly, alcohol produced by the action of distillation. That it was the product and not the educt of distillation, was an opinion which originated with Rouelle, who asserted that alcohol was not completely formed until the tem- perature was raised to.the point of distillation : more lately, the same doctrine was revived and promulgated by Fabbronni, in the memoirs of the Florentine Acad- emy. Gay-Lussac has, however, silenced the clamor- ous partisans of this theory, by separating the alcohol by distillation at the temperature of 660 Fah., and by the aid of a vacuum, it has since been effected at 56°; besides, it has been shown that by precipitating the co- louriEo- matter, and some of the other elements of the 96 APPENDIX TO THE ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. wine, by sub-acetate, of lead, and then saturating the clear liquoAvith sub-carbonate of potass, the alcohol may be completely separated without any elevation of temperature ; and this ingenious expedient, Mr Brande has been enabled to construct a table, exhibitino- the proportions of combined alcohol which exist in the°sev- ral kinds of wine : no doubt, therefore, can remain upon this subject, and the fact of the difference of effect, produced by the same bulk of alcohol, when presented to the stomach in different states of combination, adds another striking and instructive illustration to those al- ready enumerated in the course of this work, of the extraordinary powers of chemical combination in modi- fying the activity of substances upon the living system. In the present instance, the alcohol is so combined with the extractive matter of the wine, that it is proba- bly incapable of exerting its full specific effects upon the stomach, before it becomes altered in its properties, or, in other words, digested; and this view of the sub- ject maybe fairly urged in explanation of the reason why the intoxicating effects of the same wine are so liable to vary, in degree, in the same individual, from the peculiar state of his digestive organs at the time of his potation. Hitherto we have only spoken of pure wine, but it is essential to state, that the stronger wines of Spain, Portugal, and Sicily, are rendered remarkable in this country by the addition of brandy, and must con- sequently contain uncombined alcohol, the proportion of which, however, will not necessarily bear a ratio to the quantity added, because, at the period of its admixture, a renewed fermentation is produced by the scientific vintner, which will assimilate and combine a certain por- tion of the foreign spirit with the wine : this manipula- tion, in technical language, is called frctting-in. Tho free alcohol may, according to the experiments of Fab- broni, be immediately separated by saturating the vinous fluid with sub-carbonate of potass, while the combined portion will remain undisturbed: in ascertaining the fabrication and salubrity of a wine, this circumstance ought always to constitute a leading feature in the in- quiry ; and the tables of Mr Brande would have been greatly enhanced in practical value, had the relative proportions of uncombined spirit been appreciated in his experiments, since it is to this, and not to the combined alcohol, that the injurious effects of wine are to be at- tributed. 'It is well known,' observes DrMacculloch, ' that diseases of the liver are the most common, and the most formidable of those produced by the use of ardent spirits ; it is equally certain that no such disor- ders follow the intemperate use of pure wine, however long indulged in : to the concealed and unwitting con- sumption of spirit, therefore, as contained in the wines commonly drunk in this country, is to be attributed the excessive prevalence of those hepatic affections, which are comparatively little known to our continental neigh-, bors.' Thus much is certain, that their ordinary wines contain no alcohol but what is disarmed of its virulence by the prophylactic energies of combination.' CONTENTS OF THE ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS. CHAPTER I. Preivsiinary Observations, Page 58 CHAPTER II. Causes of Drunkenness, ... qq CHAPTER III. Phenomena of Drunkenness, . . : ; 61 CHAPTER IV. Drunkenness Modified by Temperament, . 64 CHAPTER V. Drunkenness Modified by the Inebriating Agent, 65 CHAPTER VI. Enumeration of the Less Common Intoxicating Agents,..... .71 CHAPTER Vn. Differences in the Action of Opium and Alcohol, 72 CHAPTER VIII. Physiology of Drunkenenness, , 73 CHAPTER IX. Method of Curing the fit of Drunkenness, . 74 CHAPTER X. Pathology of Drunkenness, . , . : 76 Page CHAPTER XI. Sleep of Drunkards,.....82 CHAPTER XII. Spontaneous Combustion of Drunkards, . 82 CHAPTER XIII. Drunkenness Judicially Considered, . , 85 CHAPTER XIV. Method of Curing the Habit of Drunkenness, 86 ' CHAPTER XV. Temperance Societies,.....go CHAPTER XVI. Advice to Inveterate Drunkards, • • .1 92 1 CHAPTER XVII. - Effects of Intoxicating Agents on Nurses and Children, ... go CHAPTER XVIII. Liquors not always Hurtful, . . 93 APPENDIX. Excerpt from Paris'Pharmacologia, . . 95 *v V .>,>.')/V : 'i W>% <>*''»' .;.^VV-,:_.,vf^c,V' fe^^