Hippocrates, Leibnitz, and Abercrombie have also been quoted as holding that there is no dreamless sleep, and so far as they express themselves on the subject they appear to do so.

Elliotson regards the opinion, as entertained by most of the last mentioned, as a mere assumption, the offspring of another assumption, namely, that we have souls, which are in their nature sleepless and by which we think. Elliotson's view, however, has no application to the opinions of Brodie, Holland, Reid, Godwin, and Hazlitt.

I think that I have fairly referred to the opinions of these writers, but if, in any case, I have overstated or understated, it will not affect my position, which I do not endeavour to support by authority.

(5) There is no risk in asserting that every one has some dreams which he thinks that he remembers clearly, and which he can recount in a fashion when awakened. I say 'recount in a fashion,' because he will very rarely be able to recount them without a liberal editing. Usually the editing will be very free. Indeed it is doubtful if either dream-thinking or the delirious thinking of disease is ever capable of being accurately and fully remembered.

Often when awakened a person will assert that he had not been dreaming. He may assert this very positively. Nevertheless, after the lapse of some time, he may remember that he had been actcually know what the dream was about, in the case of a person who talks in his sleep - yet that person, when the sleep ends, may feel quite posi-tive that no dreaming had taken place. The absence of a knowledge of having dreamed thus seems to furnish no proof that dreams have not taken place.

It is impossible to determine the extent to which this unremembered dreaming occurs, and therefore also impossible to say that it may not occupy the whole time of sleep. I think, however, that it may be taken as certain that the wholly unremembered dreaming is very large, the partially remembered small, and the fully remembered still smaller.

(7) If there is no dreamless sleep, then it seems to follow that the brain is unceasingly at work either in dream-thinking or in that thinking which goes on when we are awake. Both kinds of thinking differ much in different individuals. The habits, occupations and idiosyncrasies of individuals no doubt give colour to their dreaming. During sleep each one is buried in his own world, and so it has been said that dream life becomes a revelation of individual character. But the thinking of persons who are awake differs as much in quality and character, being also influenced by constitution, habits, and many other things. Aristotle held that in waking life we all have a world in common, but that in dreams each has his own world; but there is no truth in this, for there are as many worlds to those awake as to those asleep. So it seems to me. Perhaps Aristotle's world of waking life is the world of our doings, of our goings to and fro, of our law making and law breaking, and what not. But even if we so read Aristotle, I think he is wrong, for each one has a world of action, struggle, debate, hatred, and love, quite as much his own as is the world of his dreams.

A great deal of thinking awake is nearly valueless, chiefly for the reason that it more or less resembles sleep-thinking,

There are persons, indeed, who can seldom be correctly described as quite wide-awake. It is the experience of every one that there is a wakefulness which is incomplete.' But the quality of the thinking does not affect the question of its continuousness cither in those asleep or awake.

The continuity of the thinking part of brain-work may appear to prevent that refreshment to the mind which we commonly regard as obtained through sleep by the stoppage of such work. But refreshment may come without a stoppage of work. Change may be sufficient - a change, in this case perhaps, arising mainly out of the withdrawal of a compulsion to follow a particular course.

(8) Sir Thomas Browne calls sleep 'the Brother of Death,' and says that we may literally be said to die daily, and to be practically dead during 'one third of our lives.' But, as Lyon Playfair well says, this is poetry and not science. Sleep is the Preserver of Life, and not the Brother of Death. It is, as .Playfair points out,' the period when a greater rate of nocturnal con-structiveness in the body balances the destructive-ness of diurnal labour.' The sleep of Life cannot in any way or sense be compared with the so-called sleep of Death. They are as far apart and as distinct as Life is from Death.

(9) We are accustomed to say, that we think with our brains, and this is loosely correct. In a like way, however, it is loosely correct to say that we breathe with our brains, and that we carry on the circulation f the blood with our brains. It is at least true that, without the brain, thinking, breathing, and the circulation of the blood would cease. The other great nervous centres would not be sufficient. All these, and a thousand other things, are manifestations of work in or by the brain. But it is clear that the brain needs the body to carry on breathing and the circulation of the blood, and it is nearly as clear that the brain also requires the body for that manifestation of its work which we call thinking. Support will be given to this view, in what I have to say afterwards about laughing and blushing. There is more than appears on the surface in the statement hat we think with the whole body. At any rate, we cannot give manifestations of thinking without he body, looked at as additional to the brain, which best of course is itself a part of the body.

(10) In some parts of the work of the brain it is certain that there is no stoppage. Its work, for example, in carrying on respiration and the circulation of the blood never ceases. The heart and the lungs have no cessation of work from birth to death. The movements needed in these things are called involuntary, and they are correctly enough so called, though perhaps they are not involuntary in an absolute sense. Breathing can to some extent be directed by the will. So the thinking part of the brain's work may also be regarded as in a sense involuntary-though it can be modified and directed by the will, it is nevertheless independent of the will, to the extent at least that at no time can we choose whether we will think or cease from thinking - and, like other parts of the work of the brain, it is at least possible that it may go on without stoppage while life lasts-under control of the will when we are awake and without that control when we are asleep.