VI. _Elevation of Spirits._—The mental pleasure of intoxication is not easily explained on physiological principles. We feel a delight in being rocked gently, in swinging on a chair, or in being tickled. These undoubtedly act upon the nerves, but in what manner, it would be idle to attempt investigating. Intoxicating agents no doubt do the same thing. The mental manifestations produced by their influence depend almost entirely upon the nerves, and are, unlike the corporeal ones, in a great measure independent of vascular excitement. The power of exciting the feelings inherent in these principles, can only be accounted for by supposing a most intimate relation to subsist between the body and the mind. The brain, through the medium of its nervous branches, is the source of all this excitement. These branches receive the impressions and convey them to their fountain-head, whence they are showered like sparkling rain-drops over the mind, in a thousand fantastic varieties. No bodily affection ever influences the mind but through the remote or proximate agency of this organ. It sits enthroned in the citadel of thought, and, though material itself, acts with wizard power both upon matter and spirit. No other texture has the same pervading principle. If the lungs be diseased, we have expectoration and cough; if the liver, jaundice or dropsy; if the stomach, indigestion; but when the brain is affected, we have not merely many bodily symptoms, but severe affections of the mind; nor are such affections ever produced by any organ but through the agency of the brain. It, therefore, acts in a double capacity upon the frame, being both the source of the corporeal feelings, and of the mental manifestations. Admitting this truth, there can be little difficulty in apprehending why intoxication produces so powerful a mental influence. This must proceed from a resistless impulse being given to the brain, by virtue of the peculiar action of inebriating agents upon the nerves. That organ of the mind is suddenly endowed with increased energy. Not only does the blood circulate through it more rapidly, but an action, _sui generis_, is given to its whole substance. Mere increase of circulation, as we have already stated, is not sufficient: there must be some other principle at work upon its texture; and it is this principle, whatever it may be, which is the main cause of drunkenness. At first, ebriety has a soothing effect, and falls over the spirit like the hum of bees, or the distant murmur of a cascade. Then to these soft dreams of Elysium succeed a state of maddening energy and excitement in the brain. The thoughts which emanate from its prolific tabernacle, are more fervid and original than ever—they rush out with augmented copiousness, and sparkle over the understanding like the aurora borealis, or the eccentric scintillations of light upon a summer cloud. In a word, the organ is excited to a high, but not a diseased action, for this is coupled with