“I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain.”
ROMEO AND JULIET.
EV. That I may explain to you the _predisposition_ of a dream,—in other
words, the state of _broken slumber_,—it is essential that I recur to
the physiology of the brain; and I must humble our pride, by combining
some of the debasing conditions of our nature, as influential on the
divine mind, through the medium of its _chambers of marrow_; for to the
intimate condition and function of the brain and its nerves, and its
_contained blood_, we must chiefly look for elucidation of the _physical
causes_ of a dream.
Yet I may even grant you, for an argument, Astrophel, the flight of an
immortal spirit, and all the amiable vagaries of Sir Thomas Brown;
reserving to myself to prove at what moment we become conscious of this
flight.
In natural actions, there are ever _three requisites_, like the points
of a syllogism:
1. A susceptibility of influence;
2. The influence itself;
3. The effect of this influence:
And these I call the _predisposing_, the _exciting_, and the _proximate_
causes.
1. The brain is brought to this susceptibility by excited
temperament, study, intense and undivided thought; in short, by
_any_ intense impression.
2. The influence or excitement is applied; congestion of blood
producing impression on extremities, or origin of a nerve, at
the period of departing or returning consciousness. At these
periods, the blood changes, and I believe, _as it changes_, the
phenomena of mind, as in the waking state, obey these
changes:—rational and light dreams being the effect of
circulation of _scarlet_ blood; dull and reasonless visions and
“night-mare,” that of crimson, or _black_ blood.
3. The effect of this influence is recurrence of idea,
_memory_,—more or less erroneously associated, as the blood
approximates to the black or scarlet state, or as the brain
itself is constituted.
Now it is essential to the perfect function of the brain, not only that
it shall have a due supply of blood, but that this blood shall be of
that quality we term _oxygenated_. If there be a simple _deficiency_ of
this scarlet blood, a state of sound undisturbed sleep will ensue
(slightly analogous to the condition of _syncope_, or fainting). This
may be the consequence of any _indirect_ impression, or the natural
indication of that _direct_ debility, which we witness in early infancy,
and in the “second childishness and mere oblivion” of old age. But this
deficiency of arterial blood may be depending on a more positive cause,
_venous congestion_, impeding its flow; for in sleep, the breathing
being slower, the blood becomes essentially darker. Even arterial blood
itself will become to a certain degree _carbonized_, by _lentor_, or
stagnation. Venous congestion and diminution of arterial circulation are
not incompatible; indeed, Dr. Abercrombie reasons very ably on their
relative nature, implying the necessity of some _remora_ of venous
circulation to supply that want or vacuum which the brain would
otherwise experience from the deficiency of the current in the arterial
system. Thus will the languid arterial circulation of the brain, which
causes sleep in the first instance, produce, secondarily, that
congestion of blood in the veins and sinuses, which shall reduce it to
disturbed slumber, and excite the dream. May we not account, on this
principle, for the difficulty which many persons experience in falling
into a _second_ slumber, when they have been disturbed in the _first_?
IDA. Combe, I believe, observed, through a hole in a fractured skull,
that the brain was elevated during an apparent dream.
EV. This is a matter of frequent observation with us. There was, in
1821, at Montpelier, a woman who had lost part of the skull, and the
brain and its membranes lay bare. When she was in deep sleep, the brain
lay in the skull almost _motionless_; when she was dreaming, it became
elevated; and when her dreams (proved by her relating them when awake)
were on vivid or animating subjects, but especially when she was awake,
the brain was _protruded through the cranial aperture_.
Blumenbach states that he, himself, witnessed in one person a sinking of
the brain, whenever he was asleep, and a swelling with blood when he
awoke. David Hartley, therefore, may be half right and half wrong when
he imputes dreams to an impediment to the flow of blood, a collapse of
the _ventricles_, and a diminished quantity of their contained _serum_.
We thus have not only a deficiency of _proper_ stimulus, but a
_deleterious_ condition of the blood, which acts as a poison to the
brain. In fatal cases of coma and delirium, we observe deep red points,
chiefly in the _cineritious_ part of the brain, from this congestion of
its vessels. Sound sleep is thus prevented, but the congestion of
carbonized blood acting as a sort of narcotic, depresses the energy of
the brain so far as to prevent waking, inducing that middle state,
drowsiness or slumber; so that sleep may thus depend on congestion _from
exhaustion_; and “spectral illusion” from congestion in that state
_short of slumber_; and insanity itself from congestion _still more
copious and permanent_.
From this results a disturbed condition of the brain; it is _irritated_,
not excited, by its healthy or proper stimulus; and it follows that such
derangement of the manifestations of mind ensues as we term a dream.
Waking, however, soon takes place, and the blood is more scarlet, and
the faculties themselves gradually awake. As this is more perfect, we
remember the dream, and are enabled to explain it, and know _that it was
a dream_. The mind is now _restored_, so that scarlet blood indicates
_healthy thought_, and black blood its _reverse_. Your pardon for this
prolixity and dulness. The healthy or unhealthy crisis of the blood is a
most important subject in our argument, and too constantly slighted in
the question of illusion.
Monsieur Denis records the story of a young man of Paris, in the 17th
century, who was cured of a stubborn and protracted lethargy, by the
transfusion of the _arterial blood of a lamb_; and another of a recovery
from madness, by that of the arterial blood of a calf, and these in
presence of men both of _science_ and _high quality_.
I do not affirm my implicit faith in this statement, of the effect of
_gentle_ blood, but I am certain of the poisonous influence of that of
_another quality_; and I will cite a passage from Hoffman, the German
poet, whom Monsieur Poupon, in his “Illustrations of Phrenology,”
adduces as a specimen of marvellousness, ere I offer my cases.
“Why do my thoughts, whether I am awake or asleep, always tend, in spite
of all my efforts, to the gloomy subject of insanity? It seems to me as
if I felt my disordered ideas escaping from my mind, like _hot blood
from a wounded vein_.”
This was figurative, but it was true; for of itself this black blood may
be suddenly the cause of furious and fatal mania. When Dionis, in his
“Cours d’Opérations de Chirurgie,” is referring to that operation that
has lately, by its revival, occupied so much of the attention of the
medical world (the process of _transfusion_) he says: “La fin funeste de
ces malheureuses victimes de la nouveauté, detruisit, en un jour, les
hautes idées qu’ils avoient conçues; ils devinrent foux, _furieux, et
moururent ensuite_.”
The relief of the brain, by the escape of this blood, is of deeper
interest to science than the mere romancer may imagine.
Sir Samuel Romilly was for a moment, I believe, in a state of sanity,
when blood had flowed from the divided vessels of his throat; for he
attempted, it appeared, to stop its flow by thrusting the towel with
some force into the wound.
So diseases of the heart, by keeping the black blood in the brain,
predispose to dreaming. During the age of terror in France, organic
diseases of the heart and _cases of mania_ were most prevalent.
I may for a moment indulge in analogies regarding this arrest of the
blood. Cases of inflammation of the ear are often seen in confirmed
maniacs (the _helix_ being usually the part most inflamed), and _black_
blood often oozes from the part.
M. Calmeil considers _chronic phlegmasia_ of the brain as the cause of
insanity, the derangement itself being, as it were, _the moral result_
or disease, and the organic changes or proximate cause the _physical_
disease; both being but the _sequelæ_, or consequence of inflammation.
A boy, the servant of a medical friend (Mr. A——), was, some years ago,
placed under my care for fever, with delirium. About the acme of his
disorder the impetuosity of the blood in the vessels of the head was
such as to project his ears prominently forwards, like those of a satyr,
or, as the gossips thought, rather of a demon. Yet all this subsided _as
the fever waned_.
Yet, believe me, I draw a decided distinction between mania and
dreaming; though the phenomena may sometimes bear resemblance. In one
essential point they differ; that the _transient_ illusion is not
manifested, except _during slumber_, or a state closely analogous to it,
when the senses are languid, or asleep. It is true, however, the maniac
will, on his recovery, often _dream of the subject of his insanity_, yet
insanity is more exemplified by _action_, the dream being usually
_passive_.
The predisposition to insanity is often, too, _hereditary_, so that the
slightest moral influence, imperceptible perhaps to the physician, may
incite such a mind to madness; for where there is _no_ predisposition,
that is, a perfect integrity of brain, a right judgment is evinced even
under the potent influence of the passions.
As the condition of insanity, so the illusive vision, does not always
primarily depend on _medullary_ disease; there are primary moral as well
as physical causes. But even the exertion of thought, which the ultra
spiritualist may term an immaterial faculty, is attended by increased
action on the matter of the brain. The organ of mind will, if diseased,
(though not always,) produce deranged actions. Yet it is equally true,
if even a sound brain be _badly instructed_, and its passion
uncontrolled, insanity may ensue; not however without quickly, I believe
_immediately_, inducing structural change.
On one point, the dream and insanity are often _alike_; they are _mental
fulfilments of a wish_: and the dreamer, during his slumber, and the
madman throughout his derangement, are presented with the spectra of
their desires, and their hopes and fears become, _for these periods,
reality_.
It was with a reference to the wanderings of the understanding in
dreams, that Sir James Mackintosh thus writes in a letter to Robert
Hall:
“These will familiarise your mind to consider its other aberrations as
only more rare than sleep and dreams, and, in process of time, they will
cease to appear to you much more horrible.”
ASTR. And pray, Evelyn, how doth all this profound prosing affect the
subject of dreams?
EV. By similitude. I may even remind you with devout veneration, of the
dreams of a prophet, to prove the brain highly sensitive when these
visions are before it. Listen to the words of Daniel, to whom “God gave
knowledge and skill in all learning and wisdom.”
“I, Daniel, was grieved in my spirit, in the midst of my body, and the
visions of my head troubled me.”
“And I, Daniel, fainted and was sick certain days.”
Even here, may we not believe, that the Creator did not alter his law?
It was Dr. Cullen who first drew a parallel between insanity and dreams.
As some proof of his insight, we read in Lode of a man who never dreamed
until he fell into a fever in the twenty-fifth year;—in Beattie, of a
young friend who never dreamt unless his health was deranged.
And Mr. Locke thus writes: “I once knew a man who was bred a scholar,
and had no bad memory, who told me that he had never dreamed in his life
until he had fever.”
This immunity from dreams is also most marked in savages, unless during
disorder or at the dying moment. Ulloa, Humboldt, and La Condamine, all
agree as to the character of indolence and absence of thought and fancy
in the native Americans, and it is as sure that they seldom dream.
Now whatever influence tends to arrest or derange the _upper
circulation_ of the blood in its return to the heart, or to detain it in
the vessels of the brain, or which presses on an important nerve, so as
to disturb the function of the brain or _spinal cord_, by _continuous
sympathy_, may be the _remote_ cause of the phenomena of dreaming.
Such are the results of repletion, _dyspepsia_, the supine position, &c.
&c.
And here, Astrophel, I meet your metaphysician.
Galen, and indeed the ancients generally, attributed dreams chiefly to
indigestion; but referred their immediate excitement to fumes and
vapours, instead of to nervous influence, or cerebral congestion from
interrupted circulation.
CAST. And here, Evelyn, courtesy might have prompted you to meet my
poets. Let me see, is it not Dryden who writes of—
“——rising fumes of undigested food,
And noxious humours that disturb the blood?”
And in a poem believed to have been written by Chaucer, there is this
passage: can I remember his quaintness?
“I supposed yt to have been some noxiall fantasy,
As fallyth in dremes, in parties of the nyght,
Which cometh of joy or grievous malady;
Or of robuste metes which causeth grete myght;
Overmoche replet obscuryth the syght
Of natural reasonne, and causyth idyll thowght,
Makyth the body hevy where hyt was lyght.”
And again, in the tale of the “Nonnes Preest:”
“Swevenes (dreams) engendren of repletions,
And oft of fume and of complexions,
When humours ben to habundant in a wight.
Of other humours cou’d I telle also,
That werken many a man in slepe moch wo,” &c.
EV. I sit reproved, fair lady. Herodotus also says, the Atlantes never
dream; which Montaigne refers to their never eating anything which has
died of itself. And Burton thus sums up his precepts of prevention:
“Against fearful and troublesome dreams, incubus, and inconveniences
wherewith melancholy men are molested, the best remedy is to eat a light
supper and of such meats as are easie of digestion, no hare, venison,
beef, &c.; not to lie on his back,” &c.
Dryden, to ensure his brilliant visions of poesy, ate raw flesh; and
Mrs. Radcliffe, I am told, adopted the same plan. We know that green tea
and coffee, if we _do_ sleep, induce dreaming; and Baptista Porta, for
procuring quiet rest and pleasing dreams, swallowed _horse-tongue_ after
supper.
Indigestion, and that condition which is termed a weak or irritable
stomach, constitute a most fruitful source of visions. The immediate or
direct influence of repletion, in totally altering the sensations and
the disposition in waking moments, is a proof of its power to derange
the circulation of the brain and the mental faculties in sleep.
“Somnus ut sit levis, sit tibi cœna brevis.”
The influence of the great sympathetic nerve in this respect is very
important. With many persons, a meal is usually followed by feelings of
depression, impaired memory, unusual timidity, despondency, and other
illusive characteristics of _hysteria_ and _hypochondriasis_. And events
will appear of the greatest moment, which, after the lapse of some
hours, will be considered mere trifles. So that, after all, there is
some truth in the idea of that _archæus_, or great spirit, asserted, by
Van Helmont, to sit at the _cardia_ of the stomach, and regulate almost
all the other organs.
The posture of _supination_ will unavoidably induce that increased flow
of blood to the brain which, under certain states of this fluid, is so
essential to the production of brilliant waking thoughts; an end,
indeed, attained so often by another mode—the swallowing of opium.
A gentleman of high attainment was constantly haunted by a spectre when
he retired to rest, which seemed to attempt his life. When he raised
himself in bed, _the phantom vanished, but reappeared as he resumed the
recumbent posture_.
Some persons always retire to bed when they wish to think; and it is
well known that Pope was often wont to ring for pens, ink, and paper, in
the night, at Lord Bolingbroke’s, that he might record, ere it was lost,
that most sublime or fanciful poesy which flashed through his brain as
he lay in bed. Such, also, was the propensity of Margaret, Duchess of
Newcastle, who (according to Cibber, or rather Sheil, the _real_ author
of the “Lives of the Poets”) “kept a great many young ladies about her
person, who occasionally wrote what she dictated. Some of them slept in
a room contiguous to that in which her grace lay, and were ready, at the
call of her bell, to rise any hour of the night to write down her
conceptions, lest they should escape her memory.”
Henricus ab Heeres (in his “Obs. Med.”) says, that when he was a
professor, he used to rise in the night, open his desk, compose much,
shut his desk, and again to bed. On his waking he was conscious of
nothing but the happy result of his compositions.
The engineer, Brindley, even retired to bed for a _day or two_, when he
was reflecting on a grand or scientific project.
I deny not that the darkness or stillness of night may have had some
influence during this inspiration. I may also allow that some few
individuals compose best while they are walking; but this _peripatetic_
exertion is calculated, itself, to produce what we term determination of
blood to the head. I have heard of a most remarkable instance of the
power of position in influencing mental energy, in a German student, who
was accustomed to study and compose with his head on the ground and his
feet elevated, and resting against the wall.
And this is the fragment of a passage from Tissot, on the subject of
monomania:
——“Nous avons vu étudier dans cette académie il n’y a pas long-temps,
un jeune homme de mérite, qui _s’étant mis dans la tête_, de découvrir
la quadrature du circle, est mort, fou, à l’hôtel Dieu, à Paris.”
You will smile when I tell you that the tints of the landscape are
brighter to our eyes if we _reverse the position of the head_.
And now, with your leave, gentle ladies, I will bring phrenology to my
aid.
If we assume that there may be distinct portions of the brain, organs of
comparison, individuality, causality, &c., we naturally regard _them_ as
the source of that combined faculty which we denominate _judgment_. We
might argue, that if these organs were _permanently_ deficient, fatuity,
or, at least, extreme folly, would be the result. By parity of reasoning
we might infer, that if the function of such organs were _for a time
suspended_, imagination, having lost its mentor, would, as it were, run
wild, and an extravagant dream, granting an excitement, would be the
result. If the organ of colour be excited, and form be asleep, we may
have an _eccentric drawing_. If language and imagination are both awake,
a poem or romance; so it _may_ chance, that if _all_ the proper organs
are awake, there may be a rational dream.
I yield not to the too finely-spun hypotheses of Gall, and his first
whimsical topography of the cranium; the incipient idea of which, by the
by, he owes to the Arabian phrenologists who, even in the olden time,
had glimpses, although they decided on a different location. Imagination
was in the _frontal_ region, reason in the _medial_, and memory in the
_occipital_.
In Dr. Spurzheim’s beautiful demonstration of the brain, he exhibits it
almost as one large convoluted web. While the ultra-phrenologist is
unravelling these convolutions, it is strange that he sees not the
inconsistency of his cranial divisions. Some of the boundary lines of
his organs _must be drawn across_ these convolutions. It will ever be
impossible to decide the exact course of these, but the lines should be
drawn in the direction of their fibres; for if the faculty be seated in
one convolution, that faculty would proceed _in the course_ of its
fibres, and not across the fissure from one lobule to another. Now the
most frequent coincidence of the possession of great mental power, with
full development of the frontal region of the skull, will naturally lead
us to believe that it may depend on _causation_. Indeed a skull, as well
as expression, may be phrenologically _changed_ by culture or thought.
The skull of William Godwin, in early life, indicated an _intellectual_
development; then it became _sensual_, the _occipital_ organs being in
excess; and again, as his mind was subject to more moral culture, the
intellectual or _frontal_ again prevailed. I am informed, also, by Miss
A——, that there was observed a progressive development of the
intellectual region in the head of her father, an acute and deep
thinker.
We have analogies to this in physiognomy. Caspar Hauser lost some of the
negro fulness about his mouth after he had been introduced to society.
Perhaps the contrasted beauty and deformity in the forehead and eye, and
in the mouth of Sheridan, was a faithful indication of that paradox of
mind which was never more perfectly displayed than in the intellectual
dignity and moral deficiency of this man. As no function, then, either
of brain or gland, can be carried on without a due supply of blood, it
will follow that _position_ may materially influence the integrity of
these functions. The seat of the organs I have alluded to, if cranial
development supports me, may be determined on the fore part of the head,
behind the _os frontis_, portions of the cerebral mass which, in the
_supine_ position, are usually most elevated above the centre of
circulation. “The more noble the faculties, the higher are the organs
situated.” These, consequently, may endure a deficiency of stimulus, in
comparison with other organs more favourably situated. The phrenologist,
then, will endeavour to prove, that the supine position generally
produces _vascular pressure_ on particular parts or organs of the
_encephalon_; and he will argue that dreams arise from individual organs
abstractedly or unconnectedly acting. There is one spot on the cranium,
indeed, identified by Dr. Spurzheim as a most important item in the
composition of a good dreamer. He tells us, that “persons who have the
part above and a little behind the organ of _ideality_ developed, are
much prone to mysticism, to see visions and ghosts, and to dream.”
It may not be difficult to believe in this _partial_ function of the
brain, when we recollect how often the loss of one faculty will be
connected with _paralytic_ disorders. The faculty of _perception_ may be
lost, unless the impression on the mind is made through a _particular_
sense. Thus patients may be unable to comprehend that name or subject
when it was _pronounced_, or related, which they will immediately do, if
_written_ down and presented to the sight,—_the optic nerve may
transmit while the auditory has lost its power_.
“Segnius irritant animos _demissa per aures_,
Quam quæ sunt _oculis subjecta_ fidelibus.”
Of this axiom there is an illustrative story, by Darwin, in his
“Zoonomia.”—A paralytic man could see and hear, but the _mind_ was
_conscious of vision only_. If the hour of breakfast were _named_ to
him, he repeated it and was passive; but if the hour were _pointed out_
on the watch, he comprehended at once, and called for breakfast.
On the contrary, there may be the same imperfection of _outward
transmission_; the _lingual nerves_, influencing the tongue to sound a
name _inapplicable to the idea_, the person often reversing the names of
articles which he is continually using.
These phenomena regarding nerves of sense, then, are strictly analogous
to those which we recognize in those parts of the brain which are
intimately connected with, or influenced by, these nerves of sense: thus
in analogy to waking illusions, we have the _imperfect_ associations of
a dream when the organs are irregularly acted on.