The Cass County Republican. [volume] (Dowagiac, Mich.) 18??-1880, 1858-07-01
From the Chicago Journal
How we fall Asleep, and how we Wake.

From the Chicago Journal.
How we fall Asleep, and how we Wake.
Men generally, neither fall asleep,
nor wake up all at once, but by INSTALL
ments; the aroused senses do not obey
the reveille with uniform alacrity, and
they fall into the line of march like a
company of militia.
A man not quite awake, is composed
of strogglers, if We may say SO, it is
only when the order, " close up !' has
been obeyed, that he becomes a COM
pact integer. There are people who
never wake hl over; they constitute a
sort of vulgar fraction of vlrying values:
some are expressed by 2-3; others are
9-lO, and few are finished "l."
We never wonder that " He gives
His beloved Sleep" should have been
deemed worthy of sacred record, for
next to life, it is the most beautiful of
gifts. There is nothing more pleasant
to look at, than calm and peaceful sleep;
no dreams to mutter in; no halfsmoul-
dering passions to fame up anew; the
hard lines of the face all softened the
knotted muscles relaxed; the lips ajar; !;
the life going softly to and fro; the
Curfew has been rung in the soul, and
the fires are covered for the night.
We have heard men pray that they
might not pass from sleep to death !;
they would be broad awake for the
Journey; their faculties alert; their
thoughts rallied, like soldiers at beat of
drum. But this is not universal
choice; we do not know, any night of
the year precisely for achona we are
disrobing; the Brothers are so much
alike, that many mother has bent
over the couch, with the poets doubt
in her heart,
"we thought her dying when she slept,
And sleeping when she died"
Sleep is the narrowest Isthmus between
two worlds, and just there the transit
must be brief; Sabbath-day's journey
or so, from Earth to Paradise.
There are two things that sadly mar
the beauty of sleep sometimes: leaving
the door open to the-stomach, and
snoring. We like the Belcic word bet
ter-snorke'a !; there is character in it,
not retained in the smoother. term we
use. tits grating of rusty machinery,
creaking of unlnbricated hinges, a
family of sneezes, kennel of barkings.
Think of repose as full of growls as
tiger-jungle! rf
Not every one that closes his eyes
knows how to go to sleep. How often
man kindles a great fire in his heart,
overturns whole hive of busy thoughts
in his brain, invokes the !" "swcet re-
storer" and retires! He beats his pill
low as if it were an anvil; he turns like
the nine-acre giant with mountains for
counterpanes he is spitted like goose
before flame of his own making; he
PLAYS Macbeth, and murders sleep.
And when you meet him in the morning,
he is like a sword wit lout scabbard !;
forever exposed, the hungry air has
eaten its edge, and slo combustion has
rusted out the wor POWER" once
traced upon the bla lie, as no service
could have done. We wish, when we
look at him, that he had fancied he
would be hanged today, for then, if we
may believe the turn leys, he would
have slept soundly last night. Ifa man
heeds the injunction, stake no thought
for the morrow" but once in twenty
four hours, let it be VIII IN he is about to
sleep; let his plans end with the ended
day; his plough left in the fnrrow, as
when men are summoned to battle; so
may he slumber as if he were about to
be hanged!
The process of going to sleep is like
a pleasant lapse down a drcary river.
One has no use of his head, and the
muscles have a holiday; we all nod,
from Homer down, like so many Man
darins. The eyes close; "there is nc
speculation" in them. The olfactory
nerve transmits no message: we can.
not tell boquet from a button. The
palate grows dull; spices and shavings
have equal SAVIOR. "The daughters ol
music are brought lows" they do not
rise up at the clink of gold. 'sThe un.
ruly member" holds out the longest, but
at last it dies away in murmur, and
the man is asleep all over. One after
another, his vigilant sentries have
yielded and sunk down at their posts
his mind has retired into its inner sane.
tuary, or has gone abroad arrayed in q
white dream. Now mark how slight
the difference; if it comes back with
the new day, why, it is nothing bul
Sleep; if it saever returns, we give it the
name of Death.
Your napper, who catches little winks
of repose, envies him who sleeps like 8
log; and it is pleasant to see, in the
white pillow, a little matrice just hol
lowed to the golden bowl' that was
laid there; neat little nest for the
head that did not toss aboutlike bub-
BILE in a witch's caldron, but only re-
clined upon the pillow, like watch
upon cushion, waiting to be wound.
Such pillow in the morning has a
sweet story of its own; it tells of quiet
rest and peaceful dreams, if it does not
indicate that other slumber which no
clarion but an Angels can ever break.
Nature will maintain the repairs in
these houses of ours, if we will only
keep ont of the way long enough; if we
clear. away the litter of thought, and
rive her ROOM She does her work f,v.