“I was obliged,” says the doctor, “to take a journey of eight miles on a very hot summer’s day--my seat being with my back to the horses, and the sun directly in my face. On reaching the place of destination, and being very weary and with a slight headache, I laid myself down, with my clothes on, on a couch. I fell at once asleep, my head having slipped under the back of the settee. My sleep was deep, and, as far as I can recollect, without dreams. When it became dark, the lady of the house came with a light into the room. I suddenly awoke, but, for the first time in my life, without collecting myself. I was seized with a sudden agony of mind, and, picturing the object which was entering the house as a specter, I sprang up and seized a stool, which, in my terror, I would have thrown at the supposed shade. Fortunately I was recalled to consciousness by the firmness and tact of the lady herself, who, with the greatest presence of mind, succeeded in composing my attention until I was entirely awakened.” Hoffbauer[149] relates the particulars of a case which has passed into the annals of medical jurisprudence as one of great importance. “Bernard Schidmaizig awoke suddenly at midnight. At the same moment he saw a frightful phantom (at least so his imagination depicted it) standing near him. That which appeared to his vision seemed to be a veritable specter; and fear and the darkness of the night prevented him recognizing anything with distinctness. With a feeble voice, he twice called out, ‘Who goes there?’ He received no answer, and imagined that the apparition was approaching him. Deprived for the instant of his reason, he jumped from his bed, seized a hatchet which he generally kept near him, and with this weapon attacked the imaginary specter. To see this apparition, to cry, ‘Who goes there?’ to seize the hatchet, were all done in a moment: he had not an instant for reflection. At the first blow the phantom was struck to the earth; Schidmaizig heard a deep groan. This sound, and the noise of the imaginary phantom falling to the ground, fully awakened him; and suddenly the thought struck him that he had assaulted his wife, who slept with him. He threw himself on his knees, raised the head of the wounded person, saw the injury he had inflicted, and the blood which flowed, and with a voice full of anguish cried, ‘Susannah! Susannah! come to yourself!’ He then called his eldest daughter, aged about eight years--ordered her to see if her mother was recovering, and to tell her grandmother what he had done. It was in reality his wife; and she died the next day from the effects of the blow.”