RAPIDITY OF THOUGHT IN DREAMS.

WHILE reading, in the November

number of the National, an article, entitled “Rapidity of Thought in Dreaming," I was reminded of a dream of my own, two or three summers ago, which made a strong impression upon me at the time, and which may serve further to illustrate the subject.

On a very warm afternoon, I was sitting in a somewhat lazy posture, listening to a friend, who was reading the Christian Advocate and Journal. As he commenced the obituary of a deceased preacher I became drowsy, and, although I felt considerably interested in the article, soon fell asleep, and dreamed.

I thought I was standing by the bedside of the sick man, watching the progress of his disease, while a number of anxious friends sat in different parts of the room, or hung quietly over the bed. In the course of what seemed to me five or six hours, death came and released the sufferer, amid the sobbings and prayers of afflicted relatives. I remained with the family for a day or two, until the funeral. The assemblage, on that occasion, was large, and the services were long and impressive. The funeral sermon, which was preached in the house, appeared to me to be nearly an hour in length. I listened to it with great interest, and shall never forget the solemn impression it made upon my mind. After this, a procession of carriages was formed, and the deceased preacher was borne a distance of some ten or twelve miles to his grave. He was buried at the side of a large, plain, old-fashioned brick church, which stood near the corner of two streets. Here the funeral service was read, and, after seeing the grave filled up, the company slowly departed. I lingered behind, to indulge in the serious reflections that had been excited in me by the mournful occasion. I very well recollect standing in front of the church, at some little distance, and remarking to myself that, in case a monument should be erected over the remains, it would not look well, unless there should also be one on the other side of the church, to correspond with it. After this reflection, I turned to leave the spot, and suddenly awoke. You may judge of my surprise when I found my friend still reading the obituary, and that

he had read but about two lines of it during my sleep.

To this allow me to add a circumstance related to me by a Methodist minister a few years ago. The conference appointments of the preachers had just been read off in the evening, and on the way to his lodgings the preacher stopped at a watchmaker's to purchase an alarm-watch. Before going to bed, as he had to start very early, he set his watch, so as to awake him in good season in the morning. On falling asleep he dreamed that he was in the conference room. The general business of the session had closed, and the preachers were sitting quietly in their places, while a large number of spectators, from the different churches, crowded around, in order to hear the appointments read by the bishop. The venerable man

it was Bishop Hedding-arose amid the most profound silence, and commenced the usual address to the preachers. This continued for some time. A hymn was then sung, in which all present appeared to join, and the closing prayer of the session was made. After this the bishop rose leisurely, took up his list, and commenced reading the appointments. Not another sound was heard in all that crowded assembly, until the name of the preacher, who was to fill a certain city appointment, was announced. Immediately there was a low murmur of dissatisfaction among the crowd, which increased by degrees until it became noisy and violent. Confusion prevailed; the proceedings terminated in an uproar, and the preacher woke up in alarm. His faithful watch was ringing in his ears, like a dozen fire bells.

Do not these facts, Mr. Editor, and those mentioned in the article referred to, prove these two things,-firstly, that dreams do not occur in profound sleep; and, secondly, that they do always occur while the dreamer is in the act of waking?

TIME is an imaginary quality. To two persons differently situated, time has either the wings of an eagle or the feet of a snail. To a man in expectancy a day appears a week, and a month a year. To one in possession the sun seems no sooner risen than it is set, and summer has scarcely arrived before autumn seems ready to appear.

ELECTRO-BIOLOGY-WHAT IS IT?*

THAT

ПHAT the phenomena now so commonly exhibited under the above title demand a careful examination, and, if possible, a distinct explanation, will be readily admitted. It is clear that they ought not to be allowed to rest as materials for popular amusement, but should be submitted to strict scientific inquiry. The theory which so boldly ascribes them to electric influence should be strictly examined. If this theory is found to be untenable, some important questions will remain to be considered; such as: May not the phenomena be explained on physiological principles? and, Is it not probable that the means employed may have an injurious tendency?

The extent to which public attention has been excited by the phenomena may be guessed by a glance at the advertising columns of the Times, and by placards meeting the eye in various parts of the country, announcing that, "at the Mechanics' Institute," or elsewhere, experiments will be performed in "electrobiology," when "persons in a perfectly wakeful state" will be "deprived of the powers of sight, hearing, and taste," and subjected to various illusions. One advertiser professes to give "the philosophy of the science;" another undertakes to "reveal the secret," so as to enable any person to make the experiments; and another undertakes the cure of "palsy, deafness, and rheumatism." Lectures on the topic, in London and in the provincial towns, are now exciting great astonishment in the minds of many, and give rise to considerable controversy respecting the theory and the modus operandi.

It is on this latter point-the means by which the effects are produced-that we Iwould chiefly direct our inquiry, for we shall very briefly dismiss the attempt to explain them by a vague charge of collusion or imposture.

If this charge could be reasonably maintained, it would, of course, make all further remarks unnecessary, as our topic would then no longer be one for scientific investigation, but could only be added to the

We give this article from Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, one of the most popular scien

tific authorities extant. We insert the article without indorsement, but as presenting a subject of curious inquiry.

catalogue of frauds. It is possible that there may have been some cases of feigning among the experiments, but these do not affect the general reality of the effects produced. So epilepsy and catalepsy have been feigned; but these diseases are still found real in too many instances. We need not dwell on this point; for it may be safely assumed that all persons who have had a fair acquaintance with the experiments of electrobiology (so-called) are fully convinced that, in a great number of cases, the effects seen are real and sincere, not simulated. The question then remains: Are these effects fairly attributed to "electric” influence, or may they not be truly explained by some other cause?

Before we proceed to consider this question, it will be well to give some examples of the phenomena to which our remarks apply. We shall state only such cases as we have seen and carefully examined.

A. is a young man well known by a great number of spectators-unsuspected of falsehood-knows nothing of the experimenter or of electro-biology, not even the meaning of the words. After submitting to the process employed by the lecturer-sitting still, and gazing fixedly upon a small disk of metal for about a quarter of an hour-he is selected as a suitable subject. When told by the experimenter that he cannot open his eyes, he seems to make an effort, but does not open them until he is assured that he can do so. He places his hand upon a table— is told that he cannot take the hand off the table-seems to make a strong effort to remove it, but fails, until it is liberated by a word from the lecturer. A walkingstick is now placed in his right hand, and he is challenged to strike the extended hand of the lecturer. He throws back the stick over his shoulder, and seems to have a very good will to strike, but cannot bring the stick down upon the hand. He afterward declares to all who question him, that he “tried with all his might” to strike the hand. A. has certainly no theatrical talents; but his looks and gestures, when he is made to believe that he is exposed to a terrific storm, convey a very natural expression of terror. He regards the imaginary flashes of lightning with an aspect of dismay, which, if simulated, would be a very good specimen of acting.

In many other experiments performed upon him, the effects seem to be such as are quite beyond the reach of any skepticism with regard to his sincerity. He cannot pronounce his own name-does not know, or at least cannot tell, the name of the town in which he lives-cannot recognize one face in the room where scores of people, who know him very well, are now laughing at him. On the other side, we must state, that when a glass of water is given to him, and he is told that it is vinegar, he persists in saying that he tastes water, and nothing else. This is almost the only experiment that fails upon him.

B. is an intelligent man, upward of thirty years of age, of nervous temperament. His honesty and veracity are quite beyond all rational doubt. The numerous spectators, who have known him well for many years, are quite sure that if he has any will in the matter, it is simply to defeat the lecturer's purpose. However,

after he has submitted himself to the process, the experiments made upon him prove successful. He is naturally a fluent talker, but now cannot, without difficulty and stammering, pronounce his own name, an easy monosyllable-cannot strike the lecturer's hand-cannot rise from a chair, &c. We may add, that he cannot be made to mistake water for vinegar.

One more case. C. is a tradesman, middle-aged, has no tendency to mysticism or imaginative reverie-knows nothing of "mesmerism" or "electro-biology"— -was never suspected of falsehood or imposition. He proves, however, the most pliable of all the patients-the experiments succeed with him to the fullest extent his imagination and his senses seem to be placed entirely under the control of the experimenter. Standing before a large audience, he is made to believe that he and the lecturer are alone in the room. He cannot recognize his own wife, who sits before him. He cannot step from the platform, which is about one foot higher than the floor. When informed that his limbs are too feeble to support him, he totters, and would fall if not held. Many of the experiments upon him, showing an extreme state of mental and physical prostration, are rather painful to witness, others are ludicrous; for instance, he is made to believe that he is out amid the snow in the depth of winter-he shivers with cold, buttons up his coat, beats the VOL. II, No. 1.-E

floor with his feet, brushes away the imagined fast-falling flakes from his clothes, and almost imparts to the spectators a sympathetic feeling of cold by his wintry pantomime: then he is jocosely recommended not to stand thus shivering, but to make snow-balls, and pelt the lecturer. Heartily, and with apparent earnestness, he acts according to orders. Next, he is made to believe that the room has no roof. "You see the sky and the stars, sir?" "Yes." "And there, see, the moon is rising, very large and red, is it not?" "Yes, sir." "Very well now you see this cord in my hand; we will throw it over the moon, and pull her down." He addresses himself to the task with perfect gravity, pulls heartily. "Down she comes, sir! down she comes!" says the experimenter: "Mind your head, sir!" and the deluded patient falls on the platform, as he imagines that the moon is coming down upon him.

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These instances will be sufficient for our purpose. We have given them as fair average examples of many others. If any reader still supposes that these effects have all been mere acting and falsehood, we must leave that reader to see and examine for himself as we have done.* For other readers who admit the facts and want an explanation, we proceed to discuss the modus operandi.

In the first place, then, we assert that there is no proof whatever that these effects depend upon any electric influence: there is absolutely no evidence that the metallic disk, as an electric" agent, has any connection with the results. On this point, we invite the lecturers and experimenters who maintain that electricity is the agent in their process, to test the truth of our assertion, as they may very easily. Cæteris paribus-all the other usual conditions being observed, such as silence, the fixed gaze, monotony of attention-let the galvanic disk be put aside, and in its place let a sixpence or a fourpenny-piece be employed, or indeed any similar small object

We can corroborate the view taken by the writer of this article as to the reality of the effects produced on the persons submitting to the process, having seen many who are intimately known to us experimented on with success. The incredulity which still prevails on this subject in London, can only be attributed to the necessary rarity, in so large a town, of experiments performed on persons known to the observers.-Ed. of Chambers's Ed. Jo.

mind and the body, the power of imagination is so governed, that a display of the effect it produces while under the control of reason, can give us but a feeble notion of what its power might be in other circumstances. To make this plain, we add a few suggestions respecting the nature and extent of the control exercised by reason over imagination: and we shall next proceed to show, that the activity of reason is dependent upon certain physical conditions.

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We shall say nothing of a metaphysical nature respecting reason, but shall simply point to two important facts connected with its exercise. The first—that it suspends or greatly modifies the action of other powers-has already been noticed in our remarks on imagination; but we must state it here in more distinct terms. We especially wish the reader to understand how wide and important is the meaning of the terms "control" and "overrule" as we use them when we say that " son controls, or overrules, imagination." When we say that, in nature, the laws which regulate one stage of existence overrule the laws of another and a lower stage, we do not intend to say that the latter are annulled, but that they are so controlled and modified in their course of action, that they can no longer produce the effects which would take place if they were left free from such control. A few examples will make our meaning plain. Let us contrast the operations of chemistry with those of mechanism. In the latter, substances act upon each other simply by pressure, motion, friction, &c.; but in chemistry, affinities and combinations come into play, producing results far beyond any that are seen in mechanics. On mechanical prineiples, the trituration of two substances about equal in hardness should simply reduce them to powder; but in chemistry, it may produce a gaseous explosion. Again, vegetable life overrules chemistry: the leaves, twigs, and branches of a tree, if left without life, would, when exposed to the agencies of air, light, heat, and moisture, be partly reduced to dust and partly diffused as gas in the atmosphere. It is the vegetative life of the tree which controls both the mechanical and the chemical powers of wind, rain, heat, and gravitation; and it is not until the life is extinct that these inferior powers come into full play upon the tree. So, again, the animal func

tions control chemical laws-take digestion, for example: a vegetable cut up by the root and exposed to the air, passes through a course of chemical decomposition, and is finally converted into gas; but when an animal consumes a vegetable, it is not decomposed according to the chemical laws, but is digested, becomes chyle, and is assimilated to the body of the animal. It is obvious that animal life controls mechanical laws. Thus, the friction of two inert substances wears one of them away-the soft yields to the hard; but, on the contrary, the hand of the laborer who wields the spade or the pickax becomes thicker and harder by friction.

The bearing of these remarks upon our present point will soon be obvious: we multiply examples, in order to show in what an important sense we use the word control, with regard to the relation of reason with imagination. As we have seen, chemistry overrules the mechanical laws; vegetation suspends the laws of chemistry; a superior department of animal life controls influences which are laws in a lower department; again, mind controls the effects of physical influences; and, lastly, one power of the mind controls, and in a great measure suspends, the natural activity of another power-reason controls imagination. A.second fact with regard to the action of reason must be noticed that it requires a wakeful condition of the brain. Some may suppose that they have reasoned very well during sleep; but we suspect that, if they could recollect their syllogisms, they would find them not much better than Mickle's poetry composed during sleep. Mickle, the translator of the Lusiad, sometimes expressed his regret that he could not remember the poetry which he improvised in his dreams, for he had a vague impression that it was very beautiful. "Well," said his wife, "I can at least give you two lines, which I heard you muttering over during one of your poetic dreams. Here they are:

'By Heaven! I'll wreak my woes
Upon the cowslip and the pale primrose!'"

If we required proof that the operation of reason demands a wakeful and active condition of the brain, we might find it in the fact, that all intellectual efforts which imply sound reasoning are prevented even by a partial sleepiness or dreaminess. A light novel may be read and enjoyed while