ubject of natural philosophy on which I
might be desirous to be fully instructed. It is clear that the
fabricator of the Ephesian Diana could not pay real adoration to
his own work; and as we must be the artificers of our own dreams,
and furnish all the materials, it seems difficult to discover by
what process the mind can present subjects of surprise to itself;
but surprise is that state of mind which occurs when an object or
idea is presented to it, which our previous train of thought would
not lead us to expect or account for. In dreams the catenation of
our ideas is very imperfect and perplexed; and the mind, by
forgetting its own faint and confused links of association, may
generate subjects of surprise to itself. There are some dreams
which we dream over again many times in our lives, but these
dreams are generally mere scenes, with little or no action or
dialogue. I formerly often dreamed that I was standing on a broad
road by the side of a piece of water, (in which geese were
swimming,) surrounding the base of a green hill, on the summit of
which were the ruins of a castle: the sun shining brightly, and
the blue sky throwing out the yellow stone-work of the ruin in
strong relief. This dream always gave me an indefinite sense of
pleasure. I fancied I had formed it from some picture that I might
at some time have casually seen and forgotten; but a few years ago
I visited the village in which I was born, and from which I had
been removed when about three and a half years old. I found that I
well remembered many things which might have engaged the attention
of a child. The house in which my parents resided was little
changed; and I remembered every room, and the pictures on the
Dutch tiles surrounding the fireplace of that which had been our
nursery. I pointed out the house where sugar-candy had formerly
been sold, and went to the very spot in the churchyard where I had
been led, when a child, to call out my name and hear the echo from
the tower. I then went by a pathway, through some fields, which
led to a neighbouring town. In these fields I recognised a
remarkable stone stile, and a bank on which I had gathered
daisies; then, extending my route, that I might return to the
village by a different course, suddenly the prototype of my often
dreamed dream stood before me. The d