lands, who complains of the terrors to which he is exposed.

"The foresight of the seers is not always prescience, they are impressed with presages of which the event only shews them the meaning, they tell what they have seen to others who are at that time not more knowing than themselves, but may become at last very adequate witnesses by comparing the narrative with its verification.

"To collect sufficient testimonies for the satisfaction of the public or of ourselves, would have required more time than we could bestow. There is against it the seeming analogy of things confusedly seen and little understood, and for it the indistinct cry of national persuasion, which may be perhaps resolved at last into prejudice and tradition. I never could advance my curiosity to conviction, but came away at last only willing to believe."

* Johnson's Journey to the Western Islands, Murphy's edit. vol. viii. p. 343--347.

From this account no satisfactory conclusion can, I think, be drawn subversive of the opinion maintained in these disquisitions, that the human mind is not naturally endowed with any prophetic powers.

It is possible, indeed, that it may experience gloomy presages which are the result of the conviction of the uncertainty of human affairs, or the effect of apprehension and moral feelings. The faculty claimed in the Highlands is peculiar to countries where knowledge and true philosophy have not yet diffused their full light, nor religion put to flight these gloomy superstitions which are apt to linger in retired and secluded scenes, amidst vallies soon overspread with the shades of evening, and where the "the moun vapory mists float incessantly on tains' brow."

CHAPTER XVII.

ON THE RECURRENCE OF THOSE REFLECTIONS IN SLEEP, WHICH HAVE ENGAGED OUR ATTENTION WHEN AWAKE.

"And the same image still returns."
Eademque recurrit imago.

DIVERSE as are the circumstances, and varied as is the character of our dreams, and difficult as it sometimes is to trace their connection with preceding reflections and events, it appears that, in general, they take their complection from particulars of a recent occurrence, and are tinctured by the colouring of our thoughts before we close our eyes in forgetfulness, however the shades may gradually change, and insensibly assume a different hue.

This connection between our waking and sleeping thoughts was noted by Solomon, who observes" that a dream* cometh through the multitude of business," and it is alluded to with poetical illustration by Lucretius in the following lines:

"The scenes on which our thoughts have chiefly dwelt;
The pain and pleasures which we oft have felt;
Whate'er pursuits employ us when awake,
Possession of our minds in sleep will take.
Statutes and laws the lawyers still engage,
Contending chieftains furious battles wage,
And sailors struggle with the tempest's rage.
I Nature's principles explore, and seek
Establish'd truths in native strains to teach.

The Hebrew word on on, a dream, according to Parkhurst, implies broken parts or fragments being composed of ideas or images received by our senses, particularly by our sight, while awake; it is, indeed, often applied to supernatural dreams, which, like natural dreams, consisted of broken and familiar images, as in Gen. xxxvii. xl. xli. Daniel ii. vii. Other lexicographers, however, derive the word, valuit, qui sani somniant, and suppose it to note the temperament of the constitution.

And other arts illusively beguile

The mind in sleep with fascinating smile :
Those who on idle sports consume the hours
Which pleasure varies with its changing powers;
Where transient objects to the mind convey'd,
In quick succession speedily must fade;

Still though the scene be closed, in dreams descry
Traces of all that has amused the eye.

Oft do the images recur. In graceful form
Some the soft movements of the dance perform,
While liquid measures float upon the ears,
And the whole splendid theatre appears.
With such a strong dominion custom reigns,
So pleasure binds the mind in silken chains;
Those whose great souls with lofty projects teem,
Renew these projects nightly as they dream.
Monarchs attack, are taken, seem to feel,
Or shrink affrighted from the threatening steel;
Some, as they bleed, their hapless fate bemoan,
And midst the battle's shouts unheeded groan;
Some as if torn by furious panthers cry,
Some seem beneath the lion's rage to lie *."

Ovid avails himself of this renewal of the sensations which engage our waking thoughts, in the following pathetic lines, in which he

Lucretius, B. iv. Et quos quisque.