capital which was necessarily employed, and it was prejudicial | take for instance the palm of the hand-never stopping so as
to the revenue because it gave rise to numerous and ingeni- to form a specific line or positive edge. The outline of the
ous fraudulent expedients, by means of which greater sums superficies will consequently vary according to the direction
were received for drawback than had been originally paid in which the object itself is viewed. Alluring as colour is
by the importers; besides which, the machinery required to the eye, and principal as it seems to be in painting, it is
for the collection and repayment of duties was more com- really subordinate to drawing, because unless assisted by
plicated and expensive than would otherwise have been form, it is nearly valueless and unmeaning, incapable of
necessary. The amount of customs duty collected in Great expressing any thing; whereas form can distinctly re-
Britain before the passing of the warehousing act in 1803 present objects without the aid of colouring, or even that
was usually from twice to three times as great as the sum of shadow, which latter is the adjunct and ally of the other
paid into the exchequer, the greater part of the receipts two, being governed by both, inasmuch as form determines
being absorbed by drawbacks, bounties, and charges of the position of shadows, colouring their proper tone and
management.
hue.

The only articles upon which drawback was paid at our custom-houses, and the amount of repayment in 1836, were as follows:

Coffee

Rice in the Husk
Thrown Silk

Sugar

Tea

Timber

Tobacco and Snuff
Wine

Total

£72 14 0 10,804 14 2 52,488 17 5 556,153 15 5 21 11 2 81,987 1 5 18,735 16 5 60,889 10 6

£781,154 0 6
The drawback on timber is not indeed a payment made
on its re-exportation, but an allowance upon such quantities
as are used in the mines. The quantities of thrown silk,
sugar, and tobacco entitled to drawback' had already paid
duty previous to their undergoing a manufacturing process,
and drawback on wine is only paid when exported in
bottles, for transferring it to which from the cask it was,
until lately, necessary to pay the duty: by a recent regula-
tion wine intended for exportation may be bottled in the
warehouse without paying duty. There is every reason to
conclude that the payments made on the exportation of re-
fined sugar are not purely drawback, but partake of the cha-
racter of bounty, the price of the raw sugar being uniformly
higher in our markets than in the countries to which the
refined goods are sent.

DRAWBRIDGE, a bridge used in antient castles and in modern fortresses over a ditch or fosse, and capable of being raised up at one end so as to cut off the means of access. Drawbridges for this purpose are usually formed of boards nailed to a frame forming a platform, which is furnished at one end with hinges fastened to a beam placed parallel to one end of the frame. The bridge is raised by means of chains passed through the masonry of the gate. These chains are worked either by wheels or by hand, and thus the platform is raised to a perpendicular.

Although Drawing embraces all objects and their forms, in its more restricted technical sense, it is generally understood to imply the drawing of the human figure, as that species of it which is the most scientific in itself and the most important in art. Landscape painting requires comparatively little skill in drawing and no great exactness of hand, since the forms it deals with, such as those of trees, hills, rocks, birds, &c., being altogether irregular, general fidelity as to form is sufficient; while fidelity of colouring and aerial perspective, and the effect of light, are the qualities most essential to it. Colouring, indeed, may be said to be the very soul of landscape painting, for divested of that and reduced to mere outline, it loses its greatest charm, and nothing remains of it save the composition alone of the particular subject. Such, however, is not the case with historical painting, the chief merits of which are intimately connected with and capable of being displayed by outline alone. The painter of landscape, or of inanimate objects and mere imitative subjects, such as still life, &c., can trust to his eye alone, and even for perspective he has little occasion beyond an acquaintance with its general laws. Besides which his models are permanent and stationary, subject to little variation except in regard to certain casual and transitory effects of light and colour, that require to be hit off instantly; and therefore their forms may be studied and copied without difficulty. The same remark applies to those of the architectural draftsman, who has moreover the advantage of being able to apply the rules of perspective with unerring certainty upon every occasion. Far different is it with respect to drawing the human figure or animals, because, though their forms are regular and symmetrical, and require to be represented with the utmost correctness, they do not, like geometrical figures, admit of being delineated by the technical operations of perspective, since they consist of undulating surfaces and contours, whose perspective appearance and outline, according to the precise direction in which they are viewed, can be determined by the eye alone. Greater correctness of eye and expertness of hand are required to draw even a statue than a tree; the nicest observation of all the proportions, the most scrupulous attention to every lineament, to every minute detail, to every marking, every gradation of shadow however slight, are indispensable. Yet in such case the draftsman has nothing more to do than patiently copy a perfectly immovable object. But how incomparably more arduous than such task is that DRAWING, in its strict meaning, is the art of repre- of representing similar forms taken from the living subject. senting objects on a flat surface by lines describing their Here, unless he be also well disciplined and grounded in forms and contours alone, independently of colour or even anatomical knowledge, the best models will avail him little shadow, although the latter is closely allied with drawing, save as studies of proportion, and of such positions and atboth in practice and in theory; because, notwithstanding titudes as, although they are intended to express motion, form may be clearly expressed by outline alone, shadow, can yet be preserved for a considerable time. He may, inwhile it gives surface and substance, is dependent upon deed thus perfect himself in that particular species of form, and in many cases requires to be accurately defined anatomical perspective which is termed foreshortening, and according to the rules of perspective. More particularly is he may do much in the way of training both his hand and this the case when shadows are cast from any regularly his eye, yet for direct action and motion his model will serve shaped body upon one or more planes, as, for instance, the only to inform him what muscles they are that are brought shadow from a column upon a flight of steps, or that of a more forcibly into play, and other transitory phenomena man upon the ground and a wall; which natural profile, that disappear almost as soon as they exhibit themselves. as that of a human figure against a wall, has been sup- Indeed some motions are so exceedingly rapid and fugitive posed to have first given rise to the idea of delineating the that they can hardly be studied at all from the life, but if atcontours of solid bodies, by tracing their outlines. It is tempted to be shown in painting, must be represented actrue, that except in geometrical forms with sharp edges, cording to theory, based upon the most exact anatomical very few such lines exist in nature, outline being no more knowledge. Some attitudes and motions are either so exthan the boundary of surfaces as it exhibits itself to the ceedingly evanescent, as those of the figures hurled down eye. Thus, in the case of a globe or a cylinder, there are in Rubens's picture of the Fallen Angels, or so purely imagino lines whatever in the one, no edges down the latter; nary, as when angels or winged genii are represented hovertheir outline being not on any part, but merely the tering in the air, that such theory alone will enable the artist mination of that portion of it which is visible. The same to express them with any degree of apparent fidelity. The holds good with respect to the human form, and to that of extremities, that is, hands and feet, are among the most animals, whose limbs have no determined edges, but consist difficult parts of the figure, and require great practice in of parts more or less curved, and even when nearly flat-- drawing. Drapery, again, is, next to the figure itself, of the

'When drawbridges are made close on the outsides of gates, the masonry ought to be sunk so as to admit of the whole depth of the frame to lie within it, else the oblique fire from the besiegers' batteries would act on the edge of the frame and soon render it unserviceable.' Nicholson's Dict. Fortified towns, such as Portsmouth and Calais, have drawbridges.

P. C., No. 548.

VOL. IX.-T

2

greatest importance, while it is less reducible to any positive | to be sufficiently well trained, readily obeys the eye and the rules for disposing it.

In order to attain to a complete mastery of the human figure, which after all is to be regarded only as the means to a higher aim, and the mechanical apparatus for effecting it, it is necessary to commence by studying what is tedious in itself, and seems almost foreign to the artist's purpose, namely, the internal configuration of the human frame. It is not enough to understand the proportions of the body and limbs, with the form and situation of the external muscles, but it is necessary that all the muscles, their purposes and functions should be well understood; nor must osteology, or the bones of the skeleton, be neglected. Indeed it is desirable that the artist should be able to draw the skeleton figure in any attitude, by which his figures will always be well put together. By way of practice in this respect, it has been judiciously recommended that as soon as he is a perfect master of the skeleton, the student should proceed to draw antique statues in that state, afterwards clothing them with muscles, as in the marble or cast before him. Without scientific knowledge of muscular action, the painter will be able to give his figures only attitudes, and those not always correct, should he have occasion to represent such as from their nature do not admit of being copied from the life. Unless, besides possessing a complete knowledge of the human body and the action of the limbs and muscles, he is also able to express the emotions of the mind, and that not as they display themselves in the countenance alone, but in gesture, attitude, and the whole frame, he will at the best produce only clever academical figures, skilfully drawn, but devoid of soul and sentiment. He must therefore endeavour to make himself master of expression, in the most comprehensive meaning of that very arduous and complex study, which, be it observed, depends entirely upon drawing and truth of delineation. For this purpose such works may be recommended as Bell's Anatomy of Expression.'

Perspective, which is generally treated of separately, and is therefore ordinarily considered a distinct study, is nevertheless a most essential part of drawing,-in fact its very grammar, all objects being subject to its laws, although, as already observed, they do not admit of being delineated according to the processes employed for drawing buildings, furniture, and such things as consist of strict geometrical forms. Yet even to those who may seldom have occasion so to apply it, it is eminently serviceable, were it only because it trains the eye, habituating it to notice the effects of position and distance, and affording ready and certain assistance, and an unerring test of correctness, in what might else be matter of perplexity and doubt. Abstruse too as it may seem in theory, and tedious in its application, its principles are few and simple, and subjects the most intricate and complex, and consequently operose in their delineation, demand no particular skill, but merely attention and patience alone. Reserving the science itself for the article PERSPECTIVE, we only advert to it here in order to press upon the student its importance, and that, instead of being an extraneous accomplishment, it is so inseparably connected with drawing, that it must of necessity be ob served to a certain extent, although with no other guidance than what is derived from the eye, or else there will be no resemblance to nature; for perspective itself is based upon the laws of vision, and consists of practical rules deduced from them. It is true we frequently meet with glaring errors as regards both perspective and accuracy of form in the productions of many who are otherwise clever painters; yet so far from authorising similar negligence, in themselves they are imperfections which, although they may be redeemed by considerable merit in other respects, are nevertheless a drawback upon it.

mind. Constant observation, therefore, and as careful an examination of objects as if he was preparing to draw them, will greatly promote the student's advancement, and he will be really learning, when, because he is not actually at work with his pencil, he may seem to be doing nothing. Drawing, as far as regards facility in delineating common forms and objects so as to enable a person to describe them promptly with the pencil, ought to be considered nearly as indispensable a part of education as writing itself. By this, such a degree of proficiency is meant as would enable a person either to express or explain his ideas upon paper, or to sketch from nature. Sketching, in the more popular meaning of the term, implies little more than the act of writing down in a kind of graphic shorthand the characteristic lineaments of a landscape or any individual object, an acquirement little more than mechanical, and which stands in about the same relationship to drawing, in its more elevated character, as an ordinary letter does to a finished literary composition. Like the sketcher, the draftsman only copies the objects before him, and those generally inanimate ones; but with this difference, that his drawings are expected to exhibit perfect fidelity, and admit of being worked up to a high degree of finish and beauty. Still he is no more than a transcriber: he may display his taste and judgment, as well as his accuracy; he may fully enter into the spirit of what he represents, and set it forth to view in a very captivating manner, but without exercising any degree of inventive faculty; whereas drawing, as far as it is synonymous with design, comprehends invention and composition, the plan and idea of the whole subject.

There are various manipulations or modes of drawing, distinguished according to the materials or implements made use of, such as chalk, black lead pencil, sepia or other tinted drawings; which last-mentioned class are sometimes called washed drawings, in which some indication of colouring is occasionally introduced. But what is termed watercolour drawing, as now practised, is altogether a species of painting, although the process is totally different from that of oil colours, or even distemper. Pen and ink drawings in the style of etchings, either with or without the addition of wash of shadow, are capable of producing considerable effect.

Painters' drawings or studies, such as those of the old masters, are highly valuable because they often exhibit their first conceptions in all their energy, and admit us to immediate intercourse, as it were, with their ideas as they arose in their minds.

The invention of Lithography has been applied with great success in Germany to making fac-similes of such drawings; it also enables artists to make drawings at once upon stone, from which impressions may afterwards be taken that are equivalent to autograph delineations, and of course excellent practical studies for beginners, as to handling and the management of the pencil.

DRAYTON, MICHAEL, was born at Harshull in the county of Warwick, in the year 1563. His life is involved in great obscurity, and different circumstances concerning him are rather conjectured than affirmed. It is supposed that he went to the University of Oxford, but without taking any degree, and also that he was in the army at an early period of life. Nine or ten years before the death of Queen Elizabeth he is said to have written poems. His earliest work was published in 1593, under the title of the 'Shepherd's Garland:' it was afterwards revised and reprinted in 1619, under the name of 'Eclogues.' It is a collection of pastoral poems, among which is the ballad of Dowsabel,' extracted in Percy's Reliques. Shortly after the Shepherd's Garland' appeared his long historical poems, The Barons' Wars,' England's Heroical Epistles,' &c. His

Polyolbion,' a descriptive poem on England, her natural productions and legends, made its appearance in 1613. This is the most celebrated of all his works: independently of its merits as a poem, the most respectable antiquaries refer to it for information, and consider it as authority. In 1626 we hear of Drayton as poet-laureate. He died in s

1631.

The student would therefore do well to exercise himself thoroughly in drawing before he proceeds further; and the longer he confines himself to outline, with no other degree of shadow than what is necessary to express the character, the substance, or texture, and the different prominences or depressions in the superficies of objects, the more likely will he be to attain precision and correctness, as there will be nothing to conceal vagueness The merits of Drayton as a poet are truly great. and inaccuracy of form, but form will be exhibited un-historical poems have about them a heavy magnificences disguisedly either in its beauty or the reverse. One great the most gorgeous images and the boldest descriptions folstep towards correctness is to understand perfectly before- low in stately array, clothed in well-turned and appropriate hand the object to be represented, its character both general verse but unfortunately the obscurity of diction renders and specific when this is the case, the hand, supposing it them exceedingly unattractive. The construction is most

10

n

painfully involved: a nominative case is often parted from | to have been felt during sleep by the circumstance that
its verb by an interval of six or seven lines; and hence, a train of ideas called up by them passes before the mind,
though these poems contain but few obsolete words, the invested with the attributes of dreams, in an interval
reading of them is a serious study. The same observations between the sensation and the waking. These sensations,
will apply to the 'Polyolbion,' which is an immense mass of however, are, from the nature of the case, comparatively so
good sterling matter. All the birds and rivers of England few, and, even when they are felt, so unimportant in com-
are named one after another, but the descriptions are so parison with the ideas which they call up, that they may
close, that what we gain in instruction we lose in amuse- very well be excluded from notice in a general description
ment. This poem is written in Alexandrines, and the mea- of dreams.
sure is admirably managed. "The Wars of the Barons' are
written in ottava rima. Drayton has left one work which,
in its way, has never been surpassed-a short fairy poem,
called 'Nymphidia.' A more elfin work than this could
not be penned: the author has contrived to throw himself
into the feelings of the diminutive beings whom he repre-
sents. His descriptions of helmets made of beetles, ear-
wigs being used as chargers, and other oddities of a like
nature, display the very highest powers of fancy: a Lilipu-
tian air breathes through the whole performance. Had
Drayton written nothing but Nymphidia,' he would de-
serve immortality.

As few persons, except those who make the reading of
English poetry a regular study, could be persuaded to go
through the ponderous works of Drayton, we cannot recom-
mend the general reader to a better book than Campbell's
'Selections from the British Poets,' where a specimen is
given of every style in which this fine old author wrote.

Drayton has a tomb in Poet's Corner, Westminster Abbey.
DREAMS may be best described, in a few words, as
rains of ideas presenting themselves to the mind during
sleep. The person, to whose mind ideas present them-
selves in trains during sleep, is said to dream, and the word
dreaming designates either the state of the mind in dreams,
or else the susceptibility or potentiality of having dreams.
We use the word in the former sense, when we speak of
'the state of dreaming;' in the latter, when we say that
'dreaming is a part of man's nature.'

It is the principal design of this article to present the
reader with the psychological theory of dreams: to ex-
plain, first, the psychological law by which dreams, as being
trains of ideas, are regulated, and to exemplify the opera-
tion of this law; and, secondly, by means of this law and of
certain psychological circumstances peculiar to the state of
sleep, to explain the differences existing between dreams,
as being trains of ideas which occur in the state of sleep,
and trains of ideas as they generally occur in the waking
state. When dreams, as psychological phenomena, shall
have been thus explained (in the scholastic phrase) per
genus et differentiam, the reader will be in possession of
the whole psychological theory of dreams.

But dreams may give rise, as they frequently have given rise, to an inquiry other than the psychological inquiry which we have indicated, viz., one which in common speech is called a physical, but which would be better called, by coining a word analogous to psychological, a somatological inquiry. Besides observing the mental phenomena of dreams, and referring these phenomena to a mental or (as we have before termed it) psychological law, together with certain psychological circumstances peculiar to the state of sleep, men may speculate on the manner in which the state of the body in sleep affects the mind-how the body when asleep is affected, and how again the body thus affected operates to the production of the phenomena of dreams. Of this physical or somatological inquiry, the greater and more important part, that which relates to the state of the body, belongs properly to the subject of sleep; while, as regards the manner in which the state of the body operates to the production of the phenomena of dreams, to determine which observation gives very small assistance, we shall state, in a second division of this article, the little that can be relied on.

Bearing in mind then the existence of these few and unimportant exceptions, we shall henceforward speak of dreams as consisting only of ideas. And that the feelings composing dreams, which are at the time believed to be sensations, are not sensations, but only ideas,-that we do not see, hear, smell, taste, and touch what we believe at the time that we respectively see, hear, smell, taste, and touch, but that we only have the ideas of these respective sensations, cannot need proof. At any rate, the only proof which the nature of the case admits is one to be furnished by each individual for himself. Knowing the circumstances which, when he is awake, are concomitant with the having the feelings called sensations, and the circumstances which are concomitant with the state of sleep and of dreaming,knowing further that these two sets of circumstances are incompatible with one another; while, on the other hand, the circumstances concomitant, when he is awake, with the having the feelings called ideas, are such that he may very well have them likewise when he is asleep; he cannot but conclude for himself (and if he do not, other means of proving it to him there are none) that the feelings of which he is conscious during sleep are not, as at the time he believes them to be, sensations, but ideas. He knows that when he is asleep and dreams, he is so situated that he cannot have the sensations which at the time he believes that he has. He knows that he may, in his then situation, have ideas; and, if he has any feelings at all, must have ideas. He must conclude then that what at the time he believes to be sensations are in reality only ideas, and must consider the appearance of these ideas as sensations, as a matter to be explained by means of psychological circumstances peculiar to the state of sleep.

Dreams, then, being thus assumed to be trains of ideas, we proceed to investigate the law by which they are regu lated, and to exemplify the operation of the law.

On observing, or (to use the phrase which, when mental phenomena are spoken of, is more common) reflecting upon, our waking trains of ideas, we find that when two sensations, or two ideas, or a sensation and an idea have occurred in proximate succession, the sensation that occurred first, or its idea, or the idea that occurred first, is afterwards followed by the idea of the sensation that occurred second, or (as the case may be) by the idea that occurred second, and that this happens the more surely in proportion as such proximate succession of the two sensations, or two ideas, or sensation and idea has been more recent, and in proportion as it has been more frequent. Such is a brief statement of what is called the law of association, and of its laws. [ASSOCIATION.]

When a man thinketh on any thing whatsoever,' says Hobbes, his next thought after is not altogether so casuall as it seems to be. Not every thought to every thought succeeds indifferently. But as we have no imagination (idea), whereof we have not formerly had sense in whole or in parts; so we have no transition from one imagination to another, whereof we never had the like before in our senses.' (Leviathan, i. 3.) Hobbes has here enunciated the principle of previous proximate succession, or contiguity (whatever it may be called), and has spoken of it as the sole primary principle of association; the only defect in the manner in which he has enunciated it being the omission of the instances of two ideas, and of a sensation and idea occurring

In the third part of the article we shall give a few well-in proximate succession. Most subsequent writers on the attested instances of dreams, accompanied by circumstances which, as they are related, do not seem to admit of explanation. And this will lead us naturally to say a few words concerning the supernatural character which, at different times and in different countries has been attributed

to dreams.

I. We have said that dreams are trains of ideas presenting themselves to the mind during sleep. Occasionally, and under peculiar and definable circumstances, sensations are felt during sleep; some of which commonly do not awake the dreamer, while others, which awake him, are yet shown

subject have added other primary principles, more or less, to
this one enunciated by Hobbes; and in so doing are, we
think, chargeable with an imperfect analysis. Mr. Hume
enumerated three principles, contiguity in time and place,
causation, and resemblance; a fourth, contrast, which he
named, he looked upon as a secondary principle resolvable
into causation and resemblance.
(Essays, vol. ii., p. 21.)
Dr. Brown, finding great fault with Mr. Hume's enumeration,
and observing that all suggestion (the phrase employed by
him in the place of association) depends on prior coate
istence (by which he means the same as we by proximate

T 2

two to three hundred lines; if that indeed can be called composition in which all the images rose up before him as things, with a parallel production of the correspondent expressions, without any sensation or consciousness of effort.' On awaking he instantly sat down to commit his poem to paper. After having written so many lines as were afterwards published, he was interrupted by a person on business; and when he returned to the task the poem had vanished from his memory. The fragment begins thus:

'In Xanadu did Kubla Khau

A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.'

The poem proceeds as one stream of melody; and the diction is throughout beautifully appropriate and condensed. (Poetical Works, i. p. 266.)-There are many trite instances, which we shall only thus generally allude to, of writing performed during sleep, under the particular circumstances which constitute somnambulism. These particular circumstances, it will be observed, affect the body only, and in nowise affect the mind or its operations.

Our belief in the presence of external objects not present is one of the most curious and, from the frequency of its occurrence, together with its curiousness, one of the most important of the phenomena of dreams. This belief is a complicated case of association. When we are awake, and, having sensations of sight from a present object, believe that the object is present, we have, first, the sensations of sight which the object excites, then the ideas of distance and extension and figure, which are closely associated with these sensations: again, the ideas of all the other sensations which the object has at other times and in other circumstances excited (those of resistance, smell, sound, &c.), and of ourselves as having these sensations: and, lastly, the idea of a cause of all those sensations, whether present or past, whether those which are themselves, or those of which only the ideas or copies are present to the mind. All those ideas, inseparably associated with the sensations of sight of which we are conscious, make up the complex state of mind called belief in the presence of external objects, or belief in the existence of external objects present. The same ideas, inseparably associated with the ideas of the sensations of sight which were themselves present in the former case, constitute another complex state, which is also a state of belief in the existence of the external objects, but which, having ideas of the sensations of sight instead of the sensations themselves, is thus distinguished from the former state, and which may be called belief in the existence of external objects not present. This last state of mind is the one which occurs during sleep, appearing to be the former one. Why it so appears we shall explain presently. At present we have had to do only with what it actually is, and with the associations which it comprehends.

they occur; but they call up vivid and interesting trains of ideas, the connexion between which and the sensations it is amusing to trace. We shall take the different kinds of sensations separately.

a. Of the five external senses, sight is the least excitable during sleep. But a strong light brought before the eyes of a person sleeping generally affects the nerves concerned in the sensation of sight; a sensation of a light is generally felt; and whilst its ultimate effect is almost always to awaken the sleeper, a train of ideas associated with the sensation of a light is first called up, and passes before the mind in the interval between the sensation and waking. The sleeper probably awakes from a dream of some conflagration, whether one which has actually taken place (for instance, the conflagration of Moscow, or any other which may have been impressed on his mind), or else a conflagration of some house well known to him, perhaps even his own.

b. The least excitable of the senses, after sight, is taste. And even so far as it is excitable, the circumstances under which we sleep are such as to preclude almost entirely the possibility of its being brought into action. When, however, from ill-health, or in consequence of something which we have ate shortly before going to bed, there is (in the vulgar phrase) a bad taste in the mouth, this may have its effect on dreams. A bad taste in the mouth,' says Mr. Macnish, the author of a book called the Philosophy of Sleep,' which, however, is not exactly the book of a philosopher, 'presents us with everything bitter and nauseous in the vegetable world; a mercurial course perhaps with the mines of Spain, from whence that mineral is obtained.' (p. 69.) c. Smell comes next of the senses, in respect of defect of excitability during sleep. The circumstances under which we sleep are again such as to preclude almost entirely the action of this sense; and it is difficult, while it is by no means important, to select an apposite instance of its operation in modifying dreams.

d. We come next to the sense of hearing. The sound of a flute in the neighbourhood,' says Mr. Macnish, may invoke a thousand beautiful and delightful associations. The air is perhaps filled with the tones of harps, and all other varieties of music; nay the performers themselves are visible; and while the cause of this strange scene is one trivial instrument, he may be regaled with a rich and melodious concert.' (p. 61.)-A loud noise taking place near the sleeper, heard by him, and eventually awaking him, calls up ideas of various loud noises, and these again various other ideas associated with them. The following curious instance, which exemplifies the tendency of ideas that have been most frequently and most recently present to the mind to recur in dreams, is taken from Dr. Abercrombie's work on the Intellectual Powers. At a time when the inhabitants of Edinburgh were all in constant alarm of a French invasion, and every preparation had been made for the landing of the enemy, it was further arranged that the first notice thereof should be given by a gun from the castle. 'A gentleman,' says Dr. Abercrombie, who had been a most zealous volunteer, was in bed between two and three o'clock in the morning, when he dreamt of hearing the signal gun. He was immediately at the castle, witnessed the proceedings for displaying the signals, and saw and heard a great bustle over the town, from troops and artillery assembling. At this time he was roused by his wife, who awoke in a fright, in consequence of a similar dream, connected with much noise and the landing of an enemy, and concluding with the death of a particular friend of her husband, who had served with him as a volunteer during the late war. The origin of this remarkable conproduced in the room above by the fall of a pair of tongs, 3. Dreams turn upon subjects which have been present which had been left in some very awkward position, in supto the mind recently, rather than those which have been port of a clothes-screen.' (p. 277.)-Again, whispering in a present to it at a greater distance of time. In other words, person's ear when he is asleep is found sometimes to modify the most recent associations will recur, cæteris paribus, the his dreams very considerably. Some persons, it is true, are most frequently in our dreams. As under the last head, instantly awaked thereby; others, who sleep on, are not therefore, was exemplified the influence of frequency on asso-conscious when they awake of having had dreams akin to ciation, so under the present is that of recency exemplified; the subjects on which the whisperer has discoursed; while and it will not be necessary to dwell any longer upon this others again may have their dreams modified at one time than upon the last topic. by the whispering, and not at another, according as the sleep is more or less deep. But instances are recorded of persons susceptible always, and, to a pecuirar degree, of the influence of this whispering in the ear on their dreams. Dr. Abercrombie gives an amusing account of an officer in the expedition to Louisburg in 1758, on whom his companions

2. It is said that a man's character and pursuits influence his dreams. Now we mean by the phrase 'a man's character,' nothing more than certain classes of associations which occur to him most frequently; and his 'pursuits' again, viewed subjectively or in respect of himself pursuing, may be paraphrased in the same way. When we say then that a man's character and pursuits influence his dreams, it is only a way of saying that those associations which most frequently occur when he is awake will also occur most frequently, cæteris paribus, when he is asleep. This circumstance, therefore, observed in dreams, exemplifies the manner in which frequency strengthens association. It would be but a waste of words to bring particular instances in support of the general remark; and indeed it will be incidentally exemplified in some of the illustrations which we shall pre-currence was ascertained, in the morning, to be the noise sently adduce of the influence of sensations on dreams.

4. We shall enter at rather greater length into the manner in which the sensations occasionally felt in sleep modify dreams through association. We have already alluded to the occasional occurrence of these sensations. They are themselves very unimportant parts of dreams, even when