for sleep. Anticipated pleasure, no less than fear, may excite and rouse us and banish sleep. The eve of many a day of keen enjoyment to be marked with a white stone, the first of September, or the long-looked-for holidays, have brought but scanty slumbers to expecting youth. As men grow older they take such things more quietly. The giorni da festa are rarer and less gay. They are kept awake more by anticipated pains than pleasures. Not only mental but bodily causes also may prevent sleep. There may be discomfort of every conceivable kind, from actual violent pain to the malaise of dyspepsia after an indigestible meal, or an uncomfortable position, or an illmade bed. Most of us have been kept awake by pain of some kind, a raging tooth or a gouty toe. And most of us know the uneasiness attending upon indigestion, which, though it may not amount to pain, does nevertheless, by that mysterious process which the old writers called "sympathy," react upon the nervous centres, and stimulates them sufficiently to banish sleep. And in the same way hunger, when there is nothing at all to be digested, will often keep us awake. Cold will prevent sleep; so also will undue heat. Here, too, is discomfort, and besides this, cold extremities bear a certain reference to the general circulation of the blood, which also is affected by excess of heat. Any stimulus of the external senses will prevent sleep, and any thing to which the senses are not accustomed will stimulate them. We most of us need the silence and the darkness of the night to lull us, but fatigue and custom will overcome this habit, and many can in a short time sleep in daylight, or with incessant noise sounding in their ears. And the very withdrawal of this accustomed noise will often act as a stimulus to these persons and rouse them up. er it be pain, or the fright of a dream, or an external sensation, it excites the centre beyond sleeping point, and we wake. What is the explanation of all this? Why are we prevented from sleeping: why are we aroused? What is the physical condition which favors or repels sleep? This much we may conclude from what has been already said, that, as sleep is the rest of the highest part of the brain, it must be a condition of this part which favors or repels sleep. Healthy sleep presupposes a healthy state of brain, and we must carefully exclude from our notions of sleep all those phenomena which are the result not of healthy but of unhealthy processes going on in the brain, some of which, though apparently akin to sleep, nevertheless depend on an entirely opposite condition of things. Such states as coma, trance, catalepsy, insensibility from apoplexy or pressure, or alcohol or poisons, have only this in common with sleep, that there is unconsciousness: they differ altogether in the fact that from this unconsciousness the sufferer can not be roused. From healthy sleep we can be roused easily. Recent observations and researches seem to prove to demonstration that the sleep of man and animals depends on the state of the circulation of the blood in the brain proper. One theory, which I mention, but which is now nearly abandoned, is that it depends on the pressure of distended veins. The modern opinion, and I believe the true explanation, is, that it follows a diminution both in the quantity and rapidity of the circulating blood, and that if this reduced rate of circulation be increased by any cause sleep departs. The writings and experiments of Mr. Durham, Dr. Jackson, and others have thrown great light on this subject, and tend strongly to remove all doubt as to this being the true interpretation. As it is clearly of great practical importance that we should know what it is that we want to bring about when we are try What wakes us up when we are sleeping a healthy sleep? Very little will do it, when we have had a good long refreshing sleep, comparing to procure sleep, it will be well to examine atively slight external stimuli-sound, light, or the theory briefly. The principal evidence as to touch. We are said to wake of our own accord, the state of the human brain in sleep is derived which means generally that some little incident from the observation of a woman at Montpellier, rouses us from our light morning sleep. It is a case well known and often quoted. She had in the morning, too, that we dream most, which lost a portion of the skull-cap, and the brain and goes to show that we dream in our light, and its membranes were exposed. "When she was not in our profound sleep. But if we have only in deep or sound sleep, the brain lay in the skull been asleep a short time, it takes a loud noise almost motionless; when she was dreaming it and a hard push to wake us. But we may be became elevated, and when her dreams, which roused by other causes besides external ones: she related on waking, were vivid or interestwe may be disturbed by bodily pain, or internal ing, the brain was protruded through the cranial discomfort, or by an uneasy posture. Lastly, aperture." This condition has also been experwe are often waked by a vivid dream. The imentally brought about and observed in anifeeling of the nerve-centres is strongly stimula-mals, and the same result has been seen, nameted by something or other, and the result is action, as it is after every excitation of feeling, action either mental or bodily. A certain amount of action may take place without waking: we change our position in sleep if it be uncomfortable, and then we probably sleep on. Nay, we may even be prompted to the action of the somnambulist, or somniloquist, without waking; but if the stimulation be strong, wheth ly, that in sleep the surface of the brain and its membranes became pale, the veins ceased to be distended, and only a few small vessels containing arterial blood were discernible. When the animal was roused, a blush spread over the brain, which rose through the opening of the bone. The surface became bright red; innumerable vessels, unseen before, were now every where discernible, and the blood seemed to be coursing through them very rapidly. The veins, like the arteries, were full and distended, but their difference of color rendered them clearly distinguishable. When the animal was fed and again allowed to sink into repose the blood-vessels gradually resumed their former dimensions and appearance, and the surface of the brain became pale as before. The contrast between the appearances of the brain during its period of functional activity, and during its state of repose or sleep, was most remarkable.* These observations entirely contradict the theory that sleep is due to pressure from distended veins, to venous congestion. And further experiments made by Mr. Durham proved that when pressure was made upon the veins, and distension of them produced, the symptoms which followed were not those of sleep, but of torpor, coma, or convulsions. And this view is completely corroborated by what we know of diseases which are accompanied by these symptoms. Common observation, too, confirms it; we must often have noticed when looking at a person asleep, that the face appeared paler than usual, and that a flush came over it on waking; and all are agreed that the general circulation is diminished, as also the respiration, during sleep. A person in tranquil and natural sleep often breathes so slowly and so gently that we are obliged to listen attentively to discover that he breathes at all. Can we go any further? Can we say why it is that the diminished supply of blood produces sleep and rest for the brain? We may have recourse to one of two theories, but here we can not bring demonstrative proof so easily as we did before. First, we may propound a chemical theory, that oxydation of the brain-substance, being in proportion to the vascular activity, is diminished as the latter is reduced, and then sleep follows. This is true, no doubt, so far as it goes. That the blood in the brain changes from arterial to venous, parting with its oxygen, we know, but there still remains the question, why does the arterial action lessen so as to allow of sleep ensuing? The chemists say that the products of oxydation accumulate, and by their accumulation interfere with the continuance of the process, and act as a kind of regulator, just as a lighted taper is extinguished in a close jar by the products of its own combustion. But we constantly see that this is not the case, that although the brain action be violent in the extreme, and sleep be absent for days together, no products of oxydation put a stop to the process, but it goes on till ended by death. Chemistry fails, as it always does, to explain the whole of any vital process. In the more guarded, though less mathematical, language of physiology, we may say that every thing which stimulates the brain to a certain amount of action prevents sleep, and that this stimulus must be removed before sleep can be obtained. The stimulus may arise within or without the bodily Durham on the "Physiology of Sleep."-Guy's Hos pital Reports. 1860. organism. External events influencing the mind, and causing cares and anxieties-hopes and fears; or affecting the body, as heat and cold-may quicken the circulation and drive away sleep. The stimulus, too, may arise from within. The disordered stomach may, by sympathy with heart and lungs, quicken the flow of blood to the brain, and either banish sleep or disturb it, and so bring to us all the horrors of nightmare. That mental emotion does quicken the brain circulation is a fact known to all; whether it be slight or whether it be violent, transitory or permanent, it increases cerebral action. And this acceleration once established does not cease of a sudden. An instant conversion of fear or anxiety into the certainty of prosperity or success may sometimes at once bring relief, and from sheer fatigue sleep may follow, but more frequently the effect of the mental tension is kept up for some considerable time. When we have been working for hours with toiling brain we do not go to sleep the moment we lay our heads on the pillow-sleep comes to us slowly and coyly. The head feels hot, and we hear the rapid pulse beating in it as we lie, and only by degrees does the quickness of this abate. Why brain-work raises the rate of the circulation, is a question of physiology which, like many others, we can only answer by having recourse to general principles. Whenever any part of the body is actively employed a larger supply of blood is sent to it: as motion warms our hands and feet, so the working brain demands and procures a larger supply of blood than the idle one. And the brain is stimulated beyond all doubt, not only according to the quantity of the blood sent to it, but also according to the nature and quality of it. It is reasonable to suppose that alteration in this must affect the brain-function, and observation and experiments prove that it does. From all this that has been said about the various circumstances which prevent sleep it may be possible to deduce the methods of procuring it, at any rate, on some of the occasions when it appears as if it would never come. Many persons are habitually bad sleepers, and all know what it is to lie awake and be unable to go to sleep, even when they are in ordinary health. We can promote sleep by removing every thing which is likely to stimulate the brain and the brain circulation, and also by reducing the circulation by other means, and lessening the susceptibility and excitability of the brain as far as possible. First, we must get rid, so far as we are able, of all sources of discomfort which are likely to harass and stimulate the brain. Mental anxiety and worry are perhaps the most frequent of these. But it will be said that we can not remove anxiety. This is too frequently true; and then, if it banishes sleep night after night, and the sufferer is harassed and worried and gets no rest, serious results follow. If the anxiety or grief be irremovable, something ought to be done to counteract it, and to substitute other thoughts in the place of it. Change of locality, change of companions, will often break through the dominant and painful idea, and repose and quiet will soon follow. Possibly it may be not over-anxiety, but simply over-work that for nights together prevents us sleeping, and this is more easily dealt with. The late and excessive work must cease. If we have been toiling till midnight, and then with heads full of our subject go to bed to lie down and take no rest, we must give it up or take the consequences. It will not do to lie awake, day after day, till three or four o'clock in the morning. We can not counteract this state of things; the brain is over-worked and over-stimulated, and the stimulus which keeps up the active functional circulation must be removed. Again, if sleep be prevented by bodily discomfort, external or internal, this must be remedied so far as it can. The bed may be too hard, or too soft, or too short; the pillow may be too high or too low. Heat and cold will much affect the circulation in the head. If the surface and extremities are cold, especially the feet, there will be a deficiency of blood in them, and consequently an excess in the internal parts, and in the head. In this way we are kept awake by cold as much as by the actual discomfort arising from it. Heat will directly accelerate the circulation. And although the fatigue caused by heat may in some degree counteract this, yet most people sleep less in the very hot nights of summer than they do in cooler weather. We are both prevented from going to sleep, and roused from sleep, by this cause. Excess of heat and cold are to be avoided if we wish to sleep soundly. Bedrooms must be warmed in winter and cooled in summer; people must get over the old prejudice about opening bedroom windows, and must eschew feather-beds and mountains of blankets. Many a one, if he do this, will sleep better than he has done all his previous life. Another thing which promotes sleep is the partaking of food. As indigestible food hinders sleep or rouses us from it, so a digestible meal favors it. All know what it is to feel sleepy after a hearty dinner, nay, even a light lunch will often have the same effect if we sit or remain inactive after it. And this is not due to the strong liquids imbibed, for a dinner with water alone may have the same effect. There are different theories as to the cause of our being rendered sleepy by food." One is, that the circulation is affected by the ingestion and digestion of it: that an extra supply of blood is directed to the stomach and digesting organs, and so diverted from the head. The circulation in the head is lessened, and sleep ensues. This idea is probably not incorrect, and partially explains the phenomena, but not entirely. It seems insufficient to account for the sleepiness produced by some kinds of food, and the wakefulness caused by others. One man, at ten o'clock at night, takes a glass of beer, another an equal quantity of green tea the one goes to sleep, the other lies awake half the night. Therefore, we must needs suppose that the elements and material of the food taken into the blood alter the composition of it, and lessen or increase its stimulating properties. After a hearty meal the blood which is necessary for keen, clear brain-action is loaded with new material just taken in from the newly-digested food, and is less fitted, on this account, to excite and keep up the functional activity of clear intellect. This theory agrees, I think, better with the facts than that of the diversion of the blood from the head to the stomach by the digestion process. For we may often observe that sleepiness will follow the swallowing of a very trifling quantity of food or drink, as one glass of wine or beer. It is not to be supposed that the process of digesting this will divert much blood to the stomach. It must affect us, therefore, by the material entering the circulation. When a man lies dead drunk no one doubts but that the brain is affected by the alcohol conveyed to it by the blood. It can be collected in the brain after death. And what happens in the case of a large quantity of spirit happens probably in the case of a small quantity of food or drink. Again, if sleep is caused by the diversion of blood in and for the process of digestion, it is reasonable to suppose that the longer and more difficult the digestion, the more blood would be diverted, and the sounder the sleep. But, on the contrary, we know that the more indigestible the food the more sleep is prevented, while quickly-digested materials, which are easily assimilated, promote slumber. single small cup of tea can hardly be said to require digestion; yet this will banish sleep from many, and can only do so by affecting the nervous centres. A If there is undue excitability of the brain, and the ordinary stimuli of thought or noise are sufficient to keep off sleep, if the nervous susceptibility of the individual of itself keeps him awake, what can be done in addition to the means already mentioned? We must try and lessen this excitability, from which some occasionally suffer till it almost constitutes a disease. This may be done, and often is done, by non-medical methods. In fact, we know that each one has his proper and peculiar recipe for going to sleep. One man counts tens, hundreds, or thousandscounts till he can count no longer. Another repeats from memory Latin verses, it may be, or English poetry. One man fixes his attention strongly on one subject, and tries to exhaust himself upon this. Another does just the opposite, and tries to think of no one thing, but to jumble his ideas into a confused chaos as he finds them wandering when he is dropping off to sleep; and this man probably succeeds the best. Now these plans for the most part are based upon the principle of diminishing the excitability of the brain by means of fatigue. We know that in health fatigue is one of the chief causes of sleep. Fatigue of body and fatigue of head, not calling up anxiety or emotional by eating or drinking something which has been placed in readiness by their bedside. If all means fail, and the nights get worse and worse, and the sufferer more and more restless, he needs must have recourse to the physician and his pharmaceutical treasury, and he gets a sleeping potion, which in all probability will be some preparation of opium. Now every one has his views and theories about opium, amounting altogether to what De Quincey calls "the fiery vortex of hot-headed ignorance upon the name" of it. Let him who wants to read the poetry of this drug study the "Confessions." The prose thereof is written in the pages of many medical authors, yet no two are agreed excitement, are excellent sleep-compellers, and fatigue, especially of body, if excessive, will so deaden the excitability of the brain that stimuli, even of a powerful sort, will have no effect upon it. This is why men and boys have gone to sleep on a ship's deck in the midst of battle. Many will sleep in any position, even the most uncomfortable, amidst great noise, or even in great dangers, from sheer fatigue. And when excessive and morbid wakefulness is present, it is a very good and natural method of invoking sleep to subject the body to hard exercise; and fatiguing the brain by counting, or the like, may have the same effect, though less surely. If by working our memory till we are tired, we can produce fatigue without calling up any anx-upon the mode of its action, whether the beneious feelings or thoughts, volition at last ceases, and we sleep. But if sleep does not come, is there any other method? It may be that we lie awake because we are hungry. Hours may have passed since our last meal. Whether we feel hungry or not, it is at any rate a fact that something to eat will often bring sleep. The effect of food has been already mentioned. It is a reasonable plan, but one often neglected, probably from the difficulty of procuring something in the night. There is a popular fallacy abroad that we ought not to go to sleep on a full stomach, a fallacy adhered to in the face of the fact that every animal eats before sleep, that infants almost invariably require a full stomach to send them to sleep; and so, fearing to go to bed with a full stomach, people go with an empty one, and do not sleep. Many would sleep much better with an early dinner and a good supper, than they do with their six o'clock dinner, which allows them to get hungry again before they want to go to sleep. Many have found this out and guard against it, and if they wake in the night they tempt sleep again 1 ficial or the poisonous. Most admit, however, that in small quantities it is a stimulant, in large a narcotic, a poison. Some say that the small or stimulating doses procure sleep, and are alone beneficial, yet this is contrary to the foregoing remarks, which tend to show that stimulation of all sorts drives off sleep. That small doses of opium will keep many awake is as certain as that green tea does. It quickens the pulse in these small quantities, and stimulates the circulation of the brain. A double dose will reduce the circulation and procure sleep. The opium conveyed by the blood to the nerve-centres appears to lessen their force and energy, and to deaden the excitability both of the mental brain and also of the nerve-structures which supply the bodily organs. When the dose goes beyond this it becomes poisonous, and it not only lessens but destroys the excitability, and we have coma, collapse, convulsions, and death. But this is not the place for an examination of this question, nor for an enumeration of all the other substances which the physician employs to "entice the dewy feathered sleep." THE RUINED CHAPEL. No abbots now in ghostly white nor sable, To leave on sacred things its mouldy traces. But "No," Hope says, for where of old there stood And see, the Elder brings its pure white flowers, That still, though rent and mossy, moulders there. Sown by the pitying angels, rise and bloom And loves such ruins for their builder's sake, EORGE ELIOT-who ought to be indict- | ornamentation indoors-these suggest at every rich plums which adorn the heads of "his" chapters grew quotes over the eighth chapter of Felix Holt the following sentence: "The mind of man is as a country which was once open to squatters, who have bred and multiplied, and become masters of the land. But there happeneth a time when new and hungry comers dispute the land; and there is trial of strength, and the stronger wins. Nevertheless, the first squatters be they who have prepared the ground, and the crops to the end will be sequent (though chiefly on the nature of the soil, as of light sand, mixed loam, or heavy clay, yet) somewhat on the primal labor and sowing." This exquisite illustration might be specialized by the substitution in it of "Coventry" for "country." I mean this in the historical rather than any philological sense, though there be etymologists who might establish a near relationship between "country" and "Coventry"-that is, "Convent-tre," tre being the old word for "town." Walking about the streets of this old city, listening to its poor ragged minstrels singing and hawking its legends done into doggerel, witnessing the Fair and its pageant, one is at first bewildered at finding these things in the England of to-day, and at length perceives that they are the cropping up, through centuries of English formations, of an old and alien life which squatted hereon in an almost pre-historical era. The quaint and airy gables overhanging narrow streets, the airy build of churches with their cool stone pavements, the frequent use of external ornament on plain houses-so characteristic of southern people, who live out of doors, and so different from the English style, which keeps all VOL. XXXIII.-No. 197.-TT ing, but with no positive knowledge of the subject, I resolved to delve among the old records and chronicles in the British Museum and the London Library, and find what I could about the ancient city and the bases of its legendsespecially that of Lady Godiva's ride through it. In this search I have come across some curious facts. Up to the year 1016 there stood on the site of Coventry a large Saxon convent. This was entirely destroyed by Edric, who, in the year stated, invaded Mercia. From this time the history of the city becomes blended with its patron saint, Lady Godiva. Whatever, under historic scrutiny, may befall the actual existence of Godiva, it is pretty certain to survive any skepticism. That the Countess of Mercia, with whom that name is now associated, was the most distinguished devotee of the middle of the eleventh century Matthew of Westminster, who wrote about 250 years after Earl Leofric, writes: "In the same year [A.D. 1057], in September, died Count Leofric, of worthy memory, and was buried with honor in the monastery at Coventry, which he and his wife, the devout and noble Countess Godiva, worshiper of God and lover of the Holy Virgin Mary, built from the foundation, out of their own patrimony. And the monastery buildings being erected, they so endowed them with lands and with ornaments that in all England no other monastery could be found with such abundance of gold, silver, and precious gems." He then goes on to mention various other towns whose monasteries she, Lady Godiva, founded and endowed. But it is evident that Sir William Dugdale, whose Antiquities of Warwickshire was published in 1656, had very thoroughly consulted every record about Coventry. |