The pain, or common feeling of the limb, has stamped an image or _eidōlon_ 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 re-excited 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 re-excited 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 perception;” 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.