the house being in flames invades us, and we are witnesses to the whole conflagration from its commencement till it be finally extinguished. The thoughts which arise in such situations are endless, and assume an infinite variety of aspects. The whole, indeed, constitutes one of the strangest phenomena of the human mind.

'One of the most remarkable phenomena attendant upon dreaming, is the almost universal absence of surprise. Scarcely any event, however incredible, impossible, or absurd, gives rise to this emotion. We see circumstances at utter variance with the laws of nature, and yet their discordancy, impracticability, and oddness, never strike us as at all out of the usual course of things. This is one of the strongest proofs that can be alleged in support of the dormant condition of the reflecting faculties. Had these powers been awake, and in full activity, they would have pointed out the erroneous nature of the impressions conjured into existence by fancy, and shewn us truly that the visions passing before our eyes were merely the chimeras of an excited imagination-the airy phantoms of imperfect sleep.

'In dreaming of the dead, we have a striking instance of the absence of surprise. We almost never wonder at beholding individuals whom we yet know, in our dreams, to have even been buried for years. We see them among us, and hear them talk, and associate with them on the footing of fond companionship. Still, the circumstance does not strike us with wonder, nor do we attempt to account for it. Frequently, however, we are not aware that the dead who appear before us are dead in reality. They still seem alive as when they walked on earth, only all their qualities, whether good or bad, are exaggerated by sleep. If we hated them while in life, our animosity is now exaggerated to a double degree. If we loved them, our affection becomes more passionate and intense than ever. Under these circumstances, many scenes of most exquisite pleasure often

take place. The slumberer supposes himself enjoying the communionship of those who were dearer to him than life, and has far more intense delight than he could have experienced had these individuals been in reality alive, and at his side.'

Somnambulism is one of the most remarkable phenomena connected with this subject. It is a condition of dreaming, so vivid and impressionable, as to rouse the muscular energy and produce locomotion; hence the term somnambulist, or sleepwalker. When in this extraordinary state, which partakes of both sleeping and waking, the dreamer rises from bed, walks to some place to which his fancy impels him, performs some act he is dreaming about, and returns to bed safely. In some cases, the somnambulist will speak and answer questions, sing, or look into a book for a particular passage; yet all the time be asleep, or at least unconscious of being seen and watched.

As yet, somnambulism, like some other mental phenomena, is not perfectly understood; and there is a difference of opinion respecting it. Recently, the state of the somnambulist has been referred to animal magnetism, which is alleged to induce a kind of consciousness different from that of waking existence. Whatsoever be its precise nature, somnambulism is always dangerous, and should, if possible, be prevented. Some disorder of the digestive functions may be suspected, and the restoration of these functions to a healthy state may put a stop to the practice. In confirmed and inexplicable cases, nothing can be done but to lock the doors, bar the windows, and keep dangerous objects out of the way; or a cord may be affixed to the bedpost and arm of the sleeper. As a general rule, the somnambulist should not be wakened till he has been led back to bed.

EARLY RISING.

E

ARLY rising is universally recommended to youth, and volumes have been written to point out its advantages. Eight hours of sleep are stated to be sufficient, and more than this for young persons is not only useless but injurious. Supposing, therefore, you go to bed at ten o'clock, and that, from the effects of exercise and temperance, you almost immediately fall asleep, the time for rising in the morning should be six o'clock; or, if you require to be at work earlier than this hour, go to bed at nine, and be astir by five o'clock. Every minute spent in bed after eight hours of sound and refreshing sleep, is a sheer waste of existence. The old rhyme about early rising is not unworthy of being remembered:

Early to bed, and early to rise,

Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.'

Self-indulgent lads, with ill-regulated minds, occasionally fall into the practice of reading in bed, which besides tending to promote habits of indolence, is far from being beneficial to health. Reading in bed at night is particularly objectionable; for it over-excites the brain at the time it should be allowed to repose; and as sleep may steal on unconsciously before the light can be extinguished, there is no small danger of fire. For this latter reason, the keepers of lodging-houses very properly refuse to accommodate young men with apartments who are known to read in bed.

Common sense points out that the bed is not a place for study or the recreation of reading; neither is it to be devoted to hours of half-waking slumber. Having had your due quantity of sleep, at once get up-do not think a moment about it. If it be dark; no matter. Light your candle, and begin the duties of the day. The writer of this, when at fifteen and sixteen years of age, made a practice of going to bed regularly at ten, and of rising at five o'clock; by which means he was able to devote two hours every morning to a useful branch of study; and to his acquisitions during these early hours he is inclined to trace not a little of his success in life.

People are heard to complain that life is short, and yet, perhaps, those who say so are in the habit of spending several hours needlessly and indolently in bed. It may be shewn that the difference between rising every morning at six and at eight o'clock, supposing we go to bed at ten o'clock in each case, amounts in 40 years to 29,000 hours, or 3 years, 121 days, 16 hours. This quantity of time will afford eight hours a day for ten years; so that it is about equal to what a gift of ten years of additional life would be. It is at least matter of observation and certainty, that the hours spent lazily in bed could be devoted to a variety of useful purposes, which in effect is to make life more valuable and agreeable.

What the young have to contend with in this, as in other practices, is the ordinary usage of society. Vast numbers of people, from heedlessness or love of gaiety, sit up late at night, and consequently are late in rising. Others, who are at ease in their circumstances, are indifferent as to what hour they rise; for they imagine they have nothing to do when they get up. The example of misspending time in bed is thus almost universal; and what is common is believed by the young to be right. Our recommendation, however, is to have no regard whatever to the numerous instances of people lying long in bed

in the morning. Let every youth act for himself on the principle of doing what he believes to be right, and care for no one.

The eminent judge, Lord Mansfield, when in court, made a practice of inquiring at aged witnesses to what they ascribed their long life; and he almost invariably found, that, however differing in other matters, they had all been early risers. The celebrated Dr Cheyne, in his Essay on Health and Long Life, gives it as his opinion, that nothing can be more prejudicial to tender constitutions, studious and contemplative persons, than lying long in bed, lolling and soaking in sheets, after one is distinctly awake, or has slept a due and reasonable time. It necessarily,' he says, 'thickens the juices, enervates the solids, and weakens the constitution. A free open air is a kind of cold bath, especially after rising out of a warm bed, and consequently makes the circulation brisker and more complete, and braces up the solids, when lying in bed dissolves and soaks them in moisture. This is evident from the appetite and hunger which those that rise early feel beyond that which they get by lying long in bed.' John Wesley, the founder of the Methodists, who had studied the art of healing, wrote a sermon on the advantages of early rising. He observes in it: 'One common effect of either sleeping too long or lying too long in bed, is weakness of sight, particularly that weakness which is of a nervous kind. When I was young, my sight was remarkably weak. Why is it stronger now than it was forty years ago? I impute this principally to the blessing of God, who fits us to whatever He calls us to; but undoubtedly the outward means which He has been pleased to bless was the rising early every morning.' Dr Wilson Philip, in his Treatise on Indigestion, says: ‘Although it is of consequence to the debilitated to go early to bed, there are few things more hurtful to them than remaining in it too long. Getting up an hour or two earlier often gives a degree of vigour which nothing else can procure. For those who are not much debilitated, and sleep well, the best