dissecting-room, or the bones were bleached and dangling in the museum.

The pain, or common feeling of the limb, has stamped an image or eidolon on the brain which is not easily effaced; there remains an internal sensibility on this point of memory. If the subject be subsequently presented to the mind by a touch at the end of the stump, or even by a thought, the idea of the limb that had lain dormant will be reexcited by that wondrous sympathy of brain and nerve, and the result will be a consciousness of having once possessed, or of having experienced a pain in this leg.

And on this principle of the force of memory we may explain many of our excited feelings: those which remain after we have been wafted in a boat, or rolled along in a carriage, or whirled aloft in a swing; the nervous impression in the brain is reexcited ere it was exhausted.

Now an image may be stamped on the brain in a tumult without our cognizance or perception, and then revived in slumber; we wake in wonder at having seen what we never saw or thought of before. Such is the dream of Lovel, in the "Antiquary;" and such the rationale of that tale of mystery respecting the £6 in the Glasgow Bank, which a dream seems certainly to have developed.

And it is evident that these impressions may recur the easier in slumber, because there is no fresh impression on the senses to produce confusion. But then all these images may be presented at one time, so that we may have either a chaos or a correct concatenation-an incident, which Hobbes and other early metaphysicians confess to be inexplicable to them.

In the words of Spurzheim, " Memory is the reproduction of a conception ;" and Gall believed

that "Remembrance is the faculty of recollecting that we have perceived impressions; and memory, the recollection of the impressions themselves."

I read that Esquirol has drawn a distinction between hallucination and illusion; the first is from within, the second from without. The argument I have adduced of memory and impression-the one at the beginning, the other at the end of nerves —will, I think, illustrate this perfectly. Hallucination, being internal, is of the past; illusion, external, of the present.

Another metaphysician, Bayle, it is clear, was not ignorant of the basis of phrenology, or of this difference, when he alludes to "certain places on the brain on which the image of an object, which has no real existence out of ourselves, might be excited."

INTENSE IMPRESSION.-MEMORY.

"The dream's here still even when I wake, it is Without me as within me; not imagined, felt." Cymbeline

Ev. I believe, then, that waking and slumbering association is memory; and I have interposed the glimpse of metaphysics to break the monotony of my illustrations, for they are not yet exhausted.

A gentleman, as we read in Dr. Pritchard's work, was confined, after a severe accident, for several weeks, and the accident was not once, during this period, remembered by him; but, on his convalescence, he rode again over the same ground, and all the circumstances instantly flashed across his mind.

In their youth, Dr. Rush escorted a lady, on a holyday, to see an eagle's nest. Many years afterward, he was called to attend her in the acute

stage of typhus; and, on his entrance into her chamber, she instantly screamed out, "Eagle's nest!" and, it is said, from this moment the fever began to decline.

We ourselves have witnessed these flashes of memory more than once during the acuteness of brain fever, where journeys, and stories, and studies have been renewed after they had been long forgotten.

There are many romantic incidents in illustration which have been beautifully wrought into a poem, or drama, as that play of Kotzebue, written to illustrate the happy success of the Abbé de l'Epée in France, in imparting knowledge and receiving sentiments from the deaf and dumb. In this, the young Count Solar, by gestures, unfolds, step by step, his birthplace, and at length screams with joy, as he stands before the palace of his an

cestors.

Then there is the story of little Montague, who was decoyed by the chimney-sweep. Some time after this, the child was engaged to clean the chimney of a mansion, and, descending into a chamber, which had been, indeed, his own nursery, lay down, in his sooty clothes, on the quilt, and by this happy memory discovered his aristocratic birth. This is the incident which still enlivens the pageantry of May-day.

These reminiscences will occur sometimes in the most sudden and unexpected manner. In one of the American journals we are told of a clergyman who, at the termination of some depressing malady, had completely lost his memory. His mind was a blank, and he had, in fact, to begin the world of literature again. Among other of his studies was the Latin language. During his classical readings with his brother, he one day suddenly struck his

head with his hand, and stated that he had a most peculiar feeling, and was convinced that he had learned all this before.

Boerhaave, in his "Prelectiones Academic. Institut. Med.," relates the case of a Spanish tragic writer, whose memory, subsequently to an acute febrile disease, was so completely impaired, that not only the literature of various languages he had studied was lost to him, but also their elements, the alphabets. When even his own poetic compositions were read to him, he denied himself to be the author. But the most interesting feature of the case is this: that, on becoming again a votary of the Muse, his recent compositions so intimately resembled his original productions in style and sentiment, that he no longer doubted that both were the offspring of his own imagination.

Even Priestley's master-mind was sometimes sleeping thus, being subject (to quote his own words)" to humbling failures of recollection;" so that he lost all ideas of things and persons, and had so forgotten his own writings, that, on the perusal of a work, he sat himself to make experiments on points which he had already illustrated, but on which his mind was then a "tabula rasa."

Above all, the superlative memory of Sir Walter lay in a deep sleep after a severe indisposition. It is recorded by Ballantyne, that when "the Bride of Lammermoor, in its printed form, was submitted to his perusal, he did not recognise, as his own, one single incident, character, or conversation it contained; yet the original tradition was perfect in his mind. When Mrs. Arkwright, too, sung some verses of his, one evening, at Lord Francis Egerton's, the same oblivion was o'er his mind, and he whispered to Lockhart, Capital words; whose are they? Byron's, I suppose; but I don't remember them."

6

My irend Dr. Copland informed me (in May, 1832) of a lady of fifteen, Miss D, who, in consequence of extreme exhaustion from disorder, brgot al aer accomplishments, and had to begin

Jer iucation aresh.

The Countess of Laval had, in her childhood, been "aught he Armorican of Lower Brittany Vien 3 a tialet of the Welsh), but had, as she believed. brytten it. On attaining the adult peTo me any had an acute fever, and, during her tertum. she teased to speak in her native langlage, má nattered fuently in the bastard Welsh.

iran rantieman, as we were told by Mr. Jenerar uter an accident on the head, spoke Fraen mor, mi mite forgot the English, which le 13 en is spoken very fluently.

Vesnatzent in St. Thomas's Hospital, some wears shee, having received an injury, began to meran Meish, and ever after continued to do so, at nen teñe is accident he constantly conversrin Larisa.

ontrary, we learn from Dr. Pritchard if a mĊy vào, ter a fit of apoplexy, forgot her rum agnge the English) and spoke only in Fe, shat her nurses and servants conversed v her my by interpreters.

There may be a partial derangement of memome set ympressions only being erased.

Aiend of Dr. Beattie, in consequence of a huw on the head, lost only his attainments in Grand Professor Scarpa (whose corpus striaman was disorganized) lost only the memory of proper nammes.

You may now comprehend how instantaneously material impress derange and destroy mer and its ecr

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