congestion or rushes of blood, and therefore she was not a fit subject, and besides, the ether was poured on a _thick table cloth_, which, of course, prevented the entrance of _air_ along with the vapor, and thus suffocated. I believe there is _not a single case_ on record of injury resulting when due precautions have been used, and I have not heard of one at all in midwifery practice. _Ether_ having been the first article used, I shall first give an account of its effects, and then proceed to chloroform, explaining the mode of administration, and other incidental matters, as I proceed. The best article on ether which I have met with, is a review in the British and Foreign Medical Review for April, 1847, of some pamphlets on the subject, from which I shall make an extract. In the state of perfect etherization we believe all sensation is abolished; in a less perfect state an obscure perception of external objects remains, while the sense of pain is extinct. The psychical state is various. Generally speaking, the sense of external impressions becomes at first confused, then dull, then false, with optical spectra or auditory illusions, general mental confusion, and then a state of dreaming or utter oblivion. In the majority of cases the mind is busy in dreaming, the dreams being generally of an active kind, often agreeable, sometimes the reverse, occasionally most singular; and, frequently, a great deal is transacted in the few short moments of this singular trance. Many of the patients who have undergone the most dreadful operations, such as amputation of one or both thighs or arms, extraction of the stone, excision of bones, extirpation of the mamma, have readily detailed to us, and most with wondering thankfulness, the dreams with which, and with which alone, they were occupied during the operations. The character of the dreams seemed to be influenced, as in ordinary cases, by various causes, immediate or remote, present or past, relating to events or flowing from temperament. A good many seemed to fancy themselves on the railway amid its whirl and noise and smoke; some young men were hunting, others riding on coaches; the boys were happy at their sports in the open fields, or the filthy lane; the worn Londoner was in his old haunts carousing with his fellows; and our merry friend, Paddy, of the London Hospital, was again at his fair, wielding his shelala in defence of his friends. Others, of milder mood, and especially some of the women patients from the country, felt themselves suddenly transported from the great city and the crowded hospital-ward to their old quiet home in the distant village, happy once more with their mothers and brothers and sisters. As with the dying gladiator of the poet, the thoughts of these poor people-- "Were with the heart, and that was far away."