* Revue des Deux Mondes. Du Mouvoment Catholique, par M. Louan-dre, Nov. et Dec. 1843.

I questioned on the subject," says one writer, "replied: 'I can tell them to come, and they come; but they come sometimes when I do not call them.' "

When imagination, sparkling with youth, lavishes its treasures, visions in the shape of chimeras and golden dreams take possession of the mind; whole hours are devoted to fanciful projects; but, whatever may be their fascination, a simple effort of reason suffices to sweep away all this vapory phantasmagoria, like clouds or columns of smoke dispersed by the wind. From the heights of our fanciful transformations, from being rich, powerful, authors, or kings, we once again become "Gros Jean." Doubtless, a powerful moral or physical emotion may transform these undecided forms into hallucinations; but it is no less certain that we are always masters of ourselves when we can dismiss them at will.

One fact is decided by a research into psychological phenomena, which is painful to contemplate, namely, that delirious conceptions are forever flitting around man, similar to those insects that are seen whirling around by thousands on a fine summer evening. Dim, confused, and unimportant whilst reason is on the watch, they are the constituent elements of those castles in the air to which we all pay tribute. In dreams their power increases, and their physiognomy is more decided; then it is, says Conolly, that they show themselves to us in the shape of landscapes, seas, rivers, and countries. Now they arise as vast cities, impenetrable forests, objects infinitely varied, fantastic costumes, and grotesque architecture; now they are persons of different classes, variously occupied; figures grotesque, deformed, or threatening; the beginning, middle, or end of thoughts; voices which whisper and reveal all that is hidden in the depths of the heart; in a word, the pictured forms of those thousand combinations which compose thought.

In the midst of these dreams, wild and delirious ideas may be seen inundating the brain through all its senses, and sometimes even with a consciousness of the fact. In fever, this series of imperfect ideas, which buzzed around harmlessly whilst reason was sound, occupy its place, drive away those which belong to attention and comparison, and reign there as sovereigns. We insist on this psychological fact, which appears to us a powerful argument in favor of the predominance of moral over physical causes in the production of mental diseases.

Men who are powerfully preoccupied with one idea, may, by a prolonged concentration of it, see, by their mental eyes, that idea materialized. In proportion as the excitement diminishes, the thoughts return to their natural course. The image has been the culminating point of their meditation. They believe that they have seen, perhaps they have seen, that which was the object of their interests; nothing unusual, nothing abnormal, has marked this phenomenon, and what dissipates all their doubt is, that the resolves and actions which are the consequences of this exclusive thought, which has, as it were, engrossed their whole being, will prove perfect in their results, and attest the power of the most noble faculties of the mind.

Thus we believe that hallucination exists in a multitude of different cases. If it constitutes the phenomenon of an over-excitement of the brain, it is far from being a constant symptom of derangement. In a great portion of mankind it is almost a normal condition; but these considerations, howsoever interesting, can give us but a very confused and inaccurate idea of it. We must endeavor to sound its depths, develop its secrets, and, above all, seek to discover what has been its real influence on so many illustrious men, who have been in consequence the subjects of bitter censure.

We have never attempted to separate mind from matter, although these two substances are entirely distinct, and the influence of the one appears to us very superior to that of the other. That they are bound together by a mysterious link is undeniable, but facts in the domain of psychology have a mode of being completely different from those in the physical domain. We, therefore, willingly allow that hallucinations are of a nervous nature, and have their seat in the brain; remarking only on the possibility that other parts, especially the ganglionic system, concur in the production of certain impressions; but in order that they may adopt the form of an idea, they must be submitted to the action of the nervous centre; there is no intellectual operation without its concurrence.

In speaking of the secondary causes of hallucinations, we have described, in the medical portion of the work, the influence of nervous and sanguine elements in the production of hallucinations, without being always cognizant of their mode of action, that being the material limit to which we cannot attain.

The uneasiness caused by sleeplessness, doubtless contributes to augment the state of erythismus, favorable to hallucinations; and this is a very common phenomenon. The dread of darkness still more augments this disposition. In this case, it is really an excess of sensibility; but the conditions appear to us different when the diseased person is going to sleep, or when he is on the point of awaking. In the first case, there exists fatigue produced by the exertions of the day; in the second, the repose consequent on sleep, or at least a different state from waking. The mode of circulation and the nervous condition, cannot be the same in these three cases. The production of hallucinations would then have much analogy with the delirium produced by cerebral inflammation and abstinence; with convulsions, caused by congestion of the blood, and also by a great loss of blood; that is to say, that the same phenomenon may be produced under exactly opposite organic circumstances. As to hallucinations which occur by day, they are also influenced by a greater activity in the circulation of the blood, and of the nervous system, owing to the concentration of the mind on one fixed idea; but, again, these causes are secondary; something more is needed to produce hallucinations.

In order fully to understand hallucinations in a psychological point of view, let us pause a few moments to consider the nature of the ideas which we have studied, in the chapter on causes, and on civil, social, and individual influences. They may be referred to two sources; those based on the senses (sensual ideas, secondary), and those which have their origin in the mind and in God (spiritual ideas, primary).

The part which the senses are called upon to act should be exactly understood; their function is to transmit to the brain the image of external objects; to give it notice of their presence by a particular movement; but they do not impart to it the idea. Thus, a man who cannot read, sees written characters, his eye distinguishes, but his mind does not comprehend them.

"Idea," says M. l'Abbe Forrichon, "is the notion, which passes from one individual to another, from generation to generation; whereas the image is only communicated by the object. The idea is understood, the image is pictured. The idea rests in the thought, the impression on the senses. Thus, even in taking sensations for the point of comparison, it cannot be rigorously said, Nihil est in intellectu, quod nan prius fuerit in sensu.

"Ideas, furnished by the senses, are the first which are manifested in the order of evolution; this does not, in any respect, mean that they pre-exist mental ideas; however, the epithet secondary, which we have applied to them, sufficiently points out our meaning. It could not be otherwise, without our being other than we are, and occupying a different rank in creation; such are the ideas of a child. But the vividness of sensations at this age, their rapidity, number, and mobility, would naturally predispose it to intellectual disorders, which is just what has been observed. If the impression which it receives of a body in contact with the senses be too powerful, or the organ too weak to sustain the emotion, the result will be trouble and confusion instead of a distinct perception of sensible attributes. Thus too bright a light produces darkness. In order that the impression be clear and the notion correct, it is necessary that the object impressed and the sensitive organ preserve between themselves suitable correspondences, which continue the condition of a normal sensation.

The brain, which may be considered an immense reservoir, in which are deposited the millions of images brought by the senses, enjoys the faculty, by aid of certain conventional signs, of reflecting them on the instant, or reproducing them at a greater or less subsequent period, in the absence of the external stimulus; in the same way that a man feels pain in an amputated limb. This faculty is brought into play by attention, comparison, imagination, memory, and association. By virtue of one of these influences, the mind may evoke events and scenes which have just happened or which occurred long since; it can also select, from actual impressions, those which are most pleasing, in order to form new combinations, which represent imaginary scenes and events. These operations become more easy in proportion as the reveries are indulged in.

For a certain time, the mind can accept these pictures as realities, but, on the least recall of attention, the vision vanishes, and this change is owing to reason, which compares these fanciful creations with the actual condition of the external world.

Association of ideas, which Browne calls simple suggestion, bears so pertinent a part in intellectual operations, that it is important to consider its most striking traits. Abercrombie divides it into three sections; philosophic or natural association, local or accidental association, and arbitrary or fictitious association. The first takes place when anything on which the attention is fixed is found, by an operation of the mind, to be associated with a foreseen fact to which it connects itself, or to a subject on which it is destined to throw light; the second is only formed by fortuitous connection; thus an accident occurring to a certain person, or in a certain place, is only recalled at the sight of the person or place. This principle of association may be very advantageously applied as a moral remedy, in many distressing maladies.

Dr. Rush has mentioned a circumstance in his work, which, without bearing directly on our subject, is very interesting on more than one account.