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KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



passage of breath, and our palate never re- 

 ceives a single impression from the material 

 world. We talk — yet, save in the case of 

 more than ordinary excitement, we do not 

 open our lips ; we are subjects of mirth and 

 mischief, joy and grief, hope and despair, 

 pleasure and pain ; we receive and we impart ; 

 we love and hate ; we admire and envy ; we 

 stand still, or travel ; we fly to a distant part 

 of the world, or we chat with a friend in an 

 adjoining room. And yet, notwithstanding 

 we do all this, and more besides, we lie all 

 the while without moving a part of the mate- 

 rial framework of man from the pillow on 

 which it rests. And these varied scenes we 

 appear to enjoy with a greater zest — with a 

 higher relish even than when we are awake. 

 How often have we regretted that, in the 

 midst of our ench intment, the spell has been 

 broken ; a rude pull from another's arm has 

 disturbed us, and recalled us most unwillingly 

 to our daily calling and cares ! 



May not a consideration of these things, 

 which are every man's dreaming experience, 

 afford a very good idea of what a spiritual 

 existence may be ? We see clearly that the 

 vestures of clay in which the soul is wrapped 

 are not necessary to its happiness, but are 

 rather a drawback therefrom. Therefore, 

 that when it is released from these trammels, 

 its capabilities for enjoyment, or the reverse, 

 will be proportionably increased. Nor will 

 the soul be awakened from that long dream, 

 to resume a position within such a containing 

 shell ; for, when the last trumpet shall be 

 blown, to summon all these innumerable 

 spirits to the bar of their Maker, " we shall 

 all be changed," and stand arrayed in other 

 garb, to receive from Him a sentence, awarded 

 according to the manner in which those in- 

 fluences which each spirit possessed, were 

 exerted for good or for evil, during its sojourn 

 on earth. 



By way of conclusion to these remarks, I 

 will now relate a most striking instance of 

 the activity of the mind in a dream, which 

 occurred under my notice ; and I trust it will 

 not be uninteresting to your readers, bearing, 

 as it does, somewhat upon the subject in hand. 

 One evening, sitting at the table in my bed- 

 room, engaged in the perusal of a book (as 

 was my usual custom before retiring to rest), 

 my companion, of a less studious turn, having 

 already ensconced himself between the sheets, 

 my attention was arrested by a violent agita 

 tion of the bed. So violent was it, that it 

 shook the whole of the room. Turning round 

 to see what was the matter (the shaking 

 still continuing), I rose from my seat and walked 

 to the side ofthebed,to examine into its cause. 

 There I stood for some time, unable to dis- 

 cover any adequate cause for such an unusual 

 excitation on the part of my companion. He 

 lay with his face downwards, his hands grasped 



convulsively the pillows, every limb was in 

 motion, and almost every minute his feet were 

 vigorously applied to the sides of the bed, 

 in the shape of a hearty kick. At length he 

 spoke, and continued to utter for some time, 

 a succession of short, broken sentences,which 

 enabled me to unravel the mystery. His 

 mind, ever more at home in the pursuits of 

 the Held, the hunt, or the chase, than in the 

 dull, plodding labors of the counter or desk, 

 was now in the height of its glory. He was 

 in full career, with a set of fox-hunting com- 

 panions, after a sly Reynard winch had just 

 broken cover, and was dashing away in 

 gallant style across a difficult country ; for 

 such his remarks enabled me to ascertain. 

 His bed was the steed on which he rode, and 

 on which his spur-less feet were so liberally 

 bestowed ; his hands grasped the pillow for 

 reins, and the great agitation of the bed was 

 occasioned by his regular heavings in the 

 saddle, as he supposed, when in full trot after 

 the hounds. So loud were some of the 

 shouts he gave — the " Tally ho's," '* Gone 

 away," and others of the hunter's vocabu- 

 lary, that he awoke a party sleeping in an 

 apartment at some distance, who, equally 

 surprised with myself, came to see what was 

 the cause. He also remained with me, by the 

 side of the bed, for some time. The young 

 man led us through the whole of the chase ; 

 every incident likely to occur — the leap, the 

 fall, the check, each distinctly marked by 

 corresponding expressions, till all was over — 

 he in at the death. This produced, as it 

 were, a paroxysm of joy, after which he 

 settled gradually down to his usual tranquil 

 state. I then awoke him, and when he 

 was fully roused, asked him where he had 

 been. He directly told me, hunting, in a 

 certain neighborhood, naming the place ; 

 and then related every circumstance just as 

 I had noticed them to occur. Nor was he 

 at all aware of the noise he had been making 

 in the room. 



This incident, though somewhat peculiar 

 in its attendant circumstances, I should not 

 imagine to be entirely without a parallel ; 

 yet I have never, either before or since, had 

 the opportunity of witnessing such a scene. 

 This may be considered, also, as forming a 

 striking exception to the rule which some of 

 our most learned metaphysicians have laid 

 down, viz., that the longest dreams do not 

 exceed a few minutes' duration. The young 

 man of whom I have spoken, was not less 

 than half an hour under the influence of the 

 dream I have related. Other circumstances 

 have also caused me to think, that there are 

 very many exceptions to that rule ; which 

 derives greater probability, I consider, from 

 the many changes of scene, and from the 

 introduction of so many different characters 

 as occur in some of our dreams. -^ 



