The Rev. P. H. Newnham, of Maker Vicarage, Devonport, already so often mentioned, has supplied me with some examples which are eminently in point. He has had on several occasions "psychic" hallucinations in the ordinary sense - an impression of words which "seem to be formed and spoken within the chest." But he has also experienced and clearly distinguished another type of hallucination - a soundless voice, which yet seems to speak into his right ear (he is deaf of the left ear), and which thus produces the sense of externality, though not of actual sound. We must surely recognise this as the stage just above that of "psychic" hallucination.2 And we meet with exactly parallel degrees of visual 1Of what exactly this element may consist is another question. Dr. Max Simon (in the Lyon Medical, vol. xxxv., pp. 435, 486) has made the suggestion that what is felt is a muscular impulse to form the words, rather than the sound of them - an impulse exhibited in its extreme form in the irrepressible continuous vociferation of mania; and on this account he even refuses to regard the experience as hallucination at all. It is quite possible that the constitution of the phantasmal words may be a complex one, and may include an embryonic sense of muscular impulse.

But it seems certain that the patient's sensation is of something other and more than this. For him the words are not suggested or initiated, but actually and completely impressed. The impression is not recognised as impulse any more than as sound; but it is an impression of objective reality. Here, then, we surely trace the characteristic hallucinatory element. The close connection between the auditory and speech centres is well illustrated in the following case of undoubted hallucination, recorded by Holland (Medical Notes and Reflections, 1840, p. 232). A slight concussion of the brain having produced a temporary inability to find the right words and to speak coherently, the patient was some days later amused by hearing, as it seemed close to his ear, a dialogue in which the phrases exhibited precisely similar defects. (See Dr. A. Pick's remarks in the Prager Medicinische Wochenschrift for Oct. 31, 1883).

2The most interesting case known to me of the speaking "within the chest" forms another instructive link, since the internal voice is expressly described as audible, and as producing a strong impression of a second person's presence. A Yorkshire vicar, whose name I may mention but not print, writes to me: externalisation. I have received several accounts from persons who profess to see with the "spiritual eye," and whose language betrays the struggle to describe something that is indescribable - seeing that is not seeing, a perception of objects which yet are not perceived as in the external world. And just higher in the scale we have the stage of Blake's visionary experiences. He constantly saw slightly objectified figures with which he was on such familiar terms as to take their likenesses; but on only one occasion in his life did he see a "ghost" - i.e., have a completely "In the autumn of the year 1858, I was staying at Invercargill, the most southern part of New Zealand. There was only one hotel there in those days, kept by a Dane.

There was no village of any kind; the place was as wild as could be. When I had been about two days at this inn, I heard myself addressed by name, and found that the speaker was one of the sailors who had worked the vessel in which I had sailed from England to New Zealand. He was a man I knew well, because he was on one occasion put in irons for mutinous language, on our passage, and I had often spoken with him both before and since that event. When the ship reached the Heads, as the entrance to Port Chalmers is called, this man, with five or six others of the crew deserted, taking the ship's whale-boat in the darkness of the night, and leaving it on the beach.

"In the evening I went into the large kitchen of the hotel, where this man and several others were sitting round the fire, smoking and drinking. The landlord was there, and we were all very friendly together. I found that three or four of the men were also some of the men who had deserted, though I did not remember them at first. They told me they were going in the morning to the Island of Ruapuke, where there was a missionary, as one of the party wished to be married, and there was no minister on the mainland in that neighbourhood. I said I should rather like to see the mission station, and they said they meant to stay there a day or two before returning, as there were a great many wild boars in the island, and would have some hunting, sleeping in their boat at night. They told me they had plenty of provisions - meat, fish, bread, and so on, besides beer and spirits, and one or two bottles of champagne for the wedding breakfast. They said it would be necessary to start about 4, as it was high water on the bar about 5, and the bar was a very shallow one at the point they desired to cross it. They were all most eager for me to join them, and I had thoroughly entered into the spirit of the thing, and promised to go if they would call me.

I remember rising up to go to bed, and saying, Well, as I shall have to bo up before 4, I won't sit up any longer.' It was then about 1]. They said they were all going to 'turn in' directly, and would rouse me up, never fear; 'Don't you be afraid, we won't go without you,' or words to that effect.

"I left them with the fullest intention of going with them I ever had of doing anything in my life. The thing was settled. That was why 1 was going to bed, otherwise I should have stayed another hour at least. 1 had no candle on the way, but usually struck a match when I reached the bedroom, and lit the candle in the room. When I left the kitchen I walked through a good-sized room, or second kitchen, and into the front part of the inn, and came to the staircase. 1 had got up about four or five stairs, when someone or something said, * Don't go with those men.1 There was certainly no one on the stairs, and I stood still and said, * Why not? ' The voice, which seemed as if some other person spoke audibly inside my chest (not to the ear), said in a low tone, but with commanding emphasis, 'You are not to go.' ' But,' said I, * I have promised to go.' The answer came again, or rather I should say the warning, 'You are not to go.' 'How can I help it?' I expostulated, * they will call me up.' Then most distinctly and emphatically the same internal voice, which was no part of my own consciousness, said, 'You must bolt your door.' All this time I had stood still on the staircase.