The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1909-10-26
THE RIDDLE OF SLEEP
A Mystery That the Mind Of Man
Is Unable to Penetrate.
THE CAVERN OF MORPHEUS.
II IL Pitch Black as Far as Human
Understanding Goes, For We Know
No More About 1t Than We Do About
It's Twin Mystery, Death.

KNOW OF steep. III Is ClOSlHS VI tue
eyes, a disappearance. wondering re-
turn. In uneasy slumber. in dreamless
dead rest. in horrid nightmare or in
ecstasies of somnolent fancies the eyes
are blinded. the body is abandoned,
while the inner essence is we know not
where. We have no other knowledge
of sleep than we have of death. In de-
lirium or coma or trance, no less than
in normal sleep and In dissolution. the
soul is gone. In these it returns, in
that it does not come again. or SO we
ignorantly think.
Yet when reflect on my death for
get that / have encountered 1t many
times already and find myself none
the worse. forget that l sleep. The
fly has no shorter existence than
mans. We hustle about for few
years with ludicrous Importance, as
bottlefiies buzz at the window panes.
They. too, may imagine themselves OF
infinite moment in this universe we
share with them. But this is to take
no account of the prognostics of Sleep
There is something hidden. something
secret. some unfathomed mystery
whose presence we feel. but cannot
verify; some permeative thought in
sistently moving in our hearts, some
phosphorescence that glows we know
not whence through our shadowy at
Oms.
Neither sleep itself nor half Its prom
jses nor mysteries have been plumbed.
1t is the mother of superstitions and
of miracles. In dreams we may search
the surface powers of the freed soul.
Visions In the night are not all hallu-
cinations: voices In the night are not
all mocking. There is prophet dwells
within the mind-not of the mind, but
deeper throned in obscurity.
The brain cannot know Of this holy
presence nor Of its life In sleep. The
brain is mortal and untrustworthy,
monograph and camera for audible
and palpable existence. Strike 1t
blow in childhood so that it ceases Its
labors and awake 1t by surgery after
forty years and 1t will repeat the in
fantile action or word 1t last recorded
and will take up its task on the in
slant. making no account of the inter
mediate years. They are nonexistent
to it. Yet to that hidden memory those
diseased years are not blank 1t knows,
1t has recorded. though the brain has
slept. And in hypnotic or psychic
trance. when that wonderful ruler is
released from the prison of the body. 1t
can speak through the atom blent ma
chinery of the flesh and tell of things
man himself could not know because
of his paralyzed brain. This ruler Is
not asleep in sleep, nor in delirium Is
1t delirious. and in death is 1t deadf
Through all the ages it has been our
sphinx. which we have Intercepted in
vain. 1t joins not in our laughter nor
our tears We have fancied it with i'm
mobile, breeding features of utmost
knowledge and wisdom and sorrow. 1t
has asked us but one question, nor
from the day Of Oedipus unto today
have we answered rightly, so that we
die of our ignorance. 1t is Osiris liv-
ing in us. 1t is the unknown God to
whom we erect our affairs, the fire In
the tabernacle, the presence behind the
veil. Not in normal wakefulness at
least will It answer our queries, but in
sleep sometimes 1t will speak. And 1t
may possibly be that at last. after all
these centuries, we are learning how
to question 1t and in hypnotic trance
and In the fearful law of suggestion
are discovering somewhat Of its mys-
terry and how to employ it for our
worldly good Yet TO its essential Sc
cret we are no closer than our fore
fathers were.
We may define dreams and night
mare. coma and swoon and trance
with what terms we will. search their
physical reasons and learn to guide
and guard. yet we know no more Of
them than Of electricity We may be-
gin to suspect that telepathy and clair
voyance and occult forces of the soul
are not superstitious fancies. and we
may even empirically classify and
study and direct them. Yet the soul
itself is no nearer our inquisition.
Though we should know of its real
ity, though our finite minds should
fathom the infinitude. of what benefit
would it be? Would 1t modify our be-
liefs or our hopes or our faiths? Would
It dictate one action to our passionate
lives? There would be no change in
human nature and no reforms of the
world. We are the children of our fa-
theirs, and our children viii. tread the
prehistoric paths. Dreams are our life.
cir vV0 drnVVcn
through existence. awaking and dying
and being reborn daily. ever torpescent
and unamazed, and our thousand SUM-
berous deaths we call restorative sleep
sleep that restores our physical be-
ing. building up where we have torn
down, recreating what we destroy
Black-pitch black, indeed-is the
cavern of Morpheus. Faith peoples 1t
with varied legions and builds its
chaos into myriad forms. Nightly we
enter It and drain the Lethean air and
forget. and daily we return with re-
joicings, babbling Of dreams that were
.,ot dreamed, and finally we enter for
the last time and drain somewhat
more deeply the essence of ecstasy
and awake no more and no more re-
turn to the autumn dyed skies Of the
dawn. And yet we shall dream.-At-
Iantic Monthly.
Running Water Frozen.
Running water is usually the last
thing to freeze solid, and when it does
the cold must be extreme. J. Claude
White in the Wide World Magazine
gives the following description of this
very rare conference.-the freezing of a
mountain torrent in a single night:
The phenomenon was one that |
have never before experienced-a rum
ming river frozen solid in night.
When we arrived the waters Of this
stream, tumbling over the great bowl
ders and rushing through the tortu-
GUS channels. made deafening roar.
Gradually, but almost imperceptibly.
the tumult decreased, while. worn out
after a hard day, we fell asleep.
A few hours later, when we awoke.
a deathly silence prevailed. and on
looking out. to my intense surprise. |
found that the rushing torrent of the
previous night had been transformed
into a solid mass Of fee. In this re-
gion of extreme temperatures ] had
on other occasions seen torrents fro
zen. but never under such startling
conditions. On looking round we found
that everything we possessed was also
frozen solid. including our saddle OF
mutton, which was merely a block OF
ice. We were ravenous, but we got
no satisfaction from gnawing at Jumps
of rock which ought to have been a
succulent joint. and so. despite our