THE PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. CHAP. I. INTRODUCTION. Sleep is the intermediate state between wakefulness nd death: wakefulness being regarded as the active state f all the animal and intellectual functions, and death as hat of their total suspension. Sleep exists in two states; in the complete and the complete. The former is characterized by a torpor f the various organs which compose the brain, and by hat of the external senses and voluntary motion. Incomplete sleep, or dreaming, is the active state of one r more of the cerebral organs while the remainder are a repose the senses and the volition being either susended or in action according to the circumstances of the case. Complete sleep is a temporary metaphysical death, though not an organic one-the heart and lungs erforming their offices with their accustomed regularity inder the control of the involuntary muscles. twilight is left to silence, with her own star and her falling dews. Action is succeeded by listlessness, energy by languor, the desire of exertion by the inclination for repose. Sleep, which shuns the light, embraces darkness, and they lie down together under the sceptre of midnight. way. From the position of man in society, toil or employment of some kind or other is an almost necessary concomitant of his nature-being essential to healthy sleep, and consequently to the renovation of our bodily organs and mental faculties. But as no general rule can be laid down as to the quality and quantity of labour best adapted to particular temperaments, so neither can it be positively said how many hours of sleep are necessary for the animal frame. When the body is in a state of increase, as in the advance from infancy to boyhood, so much sleep is required, that the greater portion of existence may be fairly stated to be absorbed in this It is not mere repose from action that is capable of recruiting the wasted powers, or restoring the nervous energy. Along with this is required that oblivion of feeling and imagination which is essential to, and which in a great measure constitutes, sleep. But if in mature years the body is adding to its bulk by the accumulation of adipose matter, a greater tendency to somnolency occurs than when the powers of the absorbents and exhalents are so balanced as to prevent such accession of bulk. It is during the complete equipoise of these animal functions that health is enjoyed in greatest perfection; for such a state presupposes exercise, temperance, and the tone of the stomach quite equal to the process of digestion. Sleep is variously modified, as we shall fully explain hereafter, by health and disease. The sleep of health s full of tranquillity. In such a state we remain for ours at a time in unbroken repose, nature banqueting on its sweets, renewing its lost energies, and laying in fresh store for the succeeding day. This accomplished, slumber vanishes like a vapour before the rising sun; languor has been succeeded by strength; and all the faculties, mental and corporeal, are recruited. In this delightful state, man assimilates most with that n which Adam sprang from his Creator's hands, fresh, buoyant, and vigourous; rejoicing as a racer to run his course, with all his appetencies of enjoyment on edge, Sleep and stupor have been frequently treated of by and all his feelings and faculties prepared for exertion. physiological writers as if the two states were synonyReverse the picture, and we have the sleep of dis- mous. This is not the case. In both there is insensiease. It is short, feverish, and unrefreshing, disturbed bility; but it is easy to awake the person from sleep, by frightful or melancholy dreams. The pulse is agi- and difficult, if not impossible, to arouse him from stutated, and, from nervous excitation, there are frequent por. The former is a necessary law of the animal econstartings and twitchings of the muscles. Nightmare omy; the latter is the result of diseased action. presses like an incarnation of misery upon the frame- Birth and death are the Alpha and Omega of existimagination, distempered by its connexion with physi-ence; and life, to use the language of Shakspeare, is cal disorder, ranging along the gloomy confines of terror, holding communication with hell and the grave, and throwing a discolouring shade over human life. Night is the time for sleep; and assuredly the hush of darkness as naturally courts to repose as meridian splendour flashes on us the necessity of our being up at our labour. In fact, there exists a strange, but certain sympathy between the periods of day and night, and the performance of particular functions during these periods. That this is not the mere effect of custom, might be readily demonstrated. All nature awakes with the rising sun. The birds begin to sing; the bees to fly about with murmurous delight. The flowers which shut under the embrace of darkness, unfold themselves to the light. The cattle arise to crop the dewy herbage; and man goeth forth to his labour until the evening. At close of day, the reverse of all this activity and motion is observed. The songs of the woodland choir, one after another, become hushed, till at length rounded by a sleep.' When we contemplate the human frame in a state of vigour, an impression is made on the mind that it is calculated to last forever. One set of organs is laying down particles and another taking them up, with such exquisite nicety, that for the continual momentary waste there is continual momentary repair; and this is capable of going on with the strictest equality for a half a century. What is life? Those bodies are called living in which an appropriation of foreign matter is going on; death is where this process is at an end. When we find blood in motion, the process of appropriation is going The circulation is the surest sign of life. Muscles retain irritability for an hour or two after circulation ceases, but irritability is not life. Death is owing to the absence of this process of appropriation. on. Bichat has divided life into two varieties, the organic and the animal. The first is common to both vegetables AUTHOR OF "THE ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS," AND MEMBER OF THE FACULTY OF PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS OF GLASGOW. HARTFORD: S. ANDRUS AND SON. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION The present edition of THE PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP | capable of affording a rational and easy explanation of is so different from its predecessor, that it may almost be regarded as a new treatise. The work has been, in a great measure, re-written, the arrangement altered, and a great accession made to the number of facts and cases: the latter, many of which are now published for the first time, will, I hope, add much to its value. Some of them have occurred in my own practice; and for others, I am indebted to the kindness of several ingenious friends. Notwithstanding every care, the work is far from being what it ought to be, and what I could have wished; but, imperfect as it is, it may, perhaps, stimulate some other inquirer to investigate the subject more deeply, and thus give rise to an abler disquisition. So far as I know, this is the only treatise in which an attempt is made to give a complete account of Sleep. The subject is not an easy one; and, in the present state of our knowledge, moderate success is probably all that can be looked for. In the first edition Dr Gall's theory, that the brain is composed of a plurality of organs, each organ being the seat of a particular mental faculty, was had recourse to for the purpose of explaining the different phenomena of Sleep; in the present edition, this doctrine is more prominently brought forward. The great objection to the prevailing metaphysical systems is, that none of their positions can be proved; and that scarcely two writers, agree upon any particular point. The disciples of Gall, on the one hand, assume that his system, having ascertainable facts to illustrate it, is at all times susceptible of demonstration-that nothing is taken for granted; and that the inquirer has only to make an appeal to nature to ascertain its fallacy or its truth. The science is entirely one of observation: by that it must stand or fall, and by that alone ought it to be tested. The phrenological system appears to me the only one all the phenomena of mind. It is impossible to account for dreaming, idiocy, spectral illusions, monomania, and partial genius in any other way. For these reasons, and for the much stronger one, that having studied the science for several years with a mind rather hostile than otherwise to its doctrines, and found that nature invariably vindicated their truth, I could come to no other conclusion than that of adopting them as a matter of belief, and employing them for the explanation of phenomena which they alone seem calculated to elucidate satisfactorily. The system of Gall is gaining ground rapidly among scientific men, both in Europe and America. Some of the ablest physiologists in both quarters of the globe have admitted its accordance with nature; and, at this moment, it boasts a greater number of proselytes than at any previous period of its ca reer. The prejudices still existing against it, result from ignorance of its real character. As people get better acquainted with the science, and the formidable evidence by which it is supported, they will think differently. Many persons who deny the possibility of estimating individual character, with any thing like accuracy, by the shape of the head, admit the great phrenological principle that the brain is composed of a plurality of organs. To them, as well as to those who go a step farther, the doctrine laid down in the present work will appear satisfactory. An admission that the brain is the material apparatus by which the mind manifests itself, and that each mental faculty is displayed through the medium of a particular part of the brain, is all that is demanded in considering the philosophy of the sci ence. These points are only to be ascertained by an appeal to nature. No man can wisely reject phrenology without making such an appeal. THE PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP. CHAP. I. INTRODUCTION. Sleep is the intermediate state between wakefulness and death: wakefulness being regarded as the active state of all the animal and intellectual functions, and death as that of their total suspension. Sleep exists in two states; in the complete and the incomplete. The former is characterized by a torpor of the various organs which compose the brain, and by that of the external senses and voluntary motion. Incomplete sleep, or dreaming, is the active state of one or more of the cerebral organs while the remainder are in repose the senses and the volition being either suspended or in action according to the circumstances of the case. Complete sleep is a temporary metaphysical death, though not an organic one-the heart and lungs performing their offices with their accustomed regularity under the control of the involuntary muscles. twilight is left to silence, with her own star and her falling dews. Action is succeeded by listlessness, energy by languor, the desire of exertion by the inclination for repose. Sleep, which shuns the light, embraces darkness, and they lie down together under the sceptre of midnight. From the position of man in society, toil or employment of some kind or other is an almost necessary concomitant of his nature-being essential to healthy sleep, and consequently to the renovation of our bodily organs and mental faculties. But as no general rule can be laid down as to the quality and quantity of labour best adapted to particular temperaments, so neither can it be positively said how many hours of sleep are necessary for the animal frame. When the body is in a state of increase, as in the advance from infancy to boyhood, so much sleep is required, that the greater portion of existence may be fairly stated to be absorbed in this way. It is not mere repose from action that is capable of recruiting the wasted powers, or restoring the nervous energy. Along with this is required that oblivion of feeling and imagination which is essential to, and which in a great measure constitutes, sleep. But if in mature years the body is adding to its bulk by the accumulation of adipose matter, a greater tendency to somnolency occurs than when the powers of the absorbents and exhalents are so balanced as to prevent such accession of bulk. It is during the complete equipoise of these animal functions that health is enjoyed in greatest perfection; for such a state presupposes exercise, temperance, and the tone of the stomach quite equal to the process of digestion. mous. Sleep is variously modified, as we shall fully explain hereafter, by health and disease. The sleep of health is full of tranquillity. In such a state we remain for hours at a time in unbroken repose, nature banqueting on its sweets, renewing its lost energies, and laying in a fresh store for the succeeding day. This accomplished, slumber vanishes like a vapour before the rising sun; languor has been succeeded by strength; and all the faculties, mental and corporeal, are recruited. In this delightful state, man assimilates most with that in which Adam sprang from his Creator's hands, fresh, buoyant, and vigourous; rejoicing as a racer to run his course, with all his appetencies of enjoyment on edge, Sleep and stupor have been frequently treated of by and all his feelings and faculties prepared for exertion. physiological writers as if the two states were synonyReverse the picture, and we have the sleep of disThis is not the case. In both there is insensiease. It is short, feverish, and unrefreshing, disturbed bility; but it is easy to awake the person from sleep, by frightful or melancholy dreams. The pulse is agi- and difficult, if not impossible, to arouse him from stu tated, and, from nervous excitation, there are frequent por. The former is a necessary law of the animal econstartings and twitchings of the muscles. Nightmare omy; the latter is the result of diseased action. presses like an incarnation of misery upon the frame- Birth and death are the Alpha and Omega of existimagination, distempered by its connexion with physi-ence; and life, to use the language of Shakspeare, ‘is cal disorder, ranging along the gloomy confines of rounded by a sleep.' terror, holding communication with hell and the grave, When we contemplate the human frame in a state of and throwing a discolouring shade over human life. vigour, an impression is made on the mind that it is calNight is the time for sleep; and assuredly the hushculated to last forever. One set of organs is laying of darkness as naturally courts to repose as meridian splendour flashes on us the necessity of our being up at our labour. In fact, there exists a strange, but certain sympathy between the periods of day and night, and the performance of particular functions during these periods. That this is not the mere effect of custom, might be readily demonstrated. All nature awakes with the rising sun. The birds begin to sing; the bees to fly about with murmurous delight. The flowers which shut under the embrace of darkness, unfold themselves to the light. The cattle arise to crop the dewy herbage; and 'man goeth forth to his labour until the evening. At close of day, the reverse of all this activity and motion is observed. The songs of the woodland choir, one after another, become hushed, till at length down particles and another taking them up, with such exquisite nicety, that for the continual momentary waste there is continual momentary repair; and this is capable of going on with the strictest equality for a half a century. What is life? Those bodies are called living in which an appropriation of foreign matter is going on; death is where this process is at an end. When we find blood in motion, the process of appropriation is going on. The circulation is the surest sign of life. Muscles retain irritability for an hour or two after circulation ceases, but irritability is not life. Death is owing to the absence of this process of appropriation. Bichat has divided life into two varieties, the organic and the animal. The first is common to both vegetables |