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pen, in fact, in daily life, as well as when we are sleeping. Let prophetic dreamers but note the thousands of the idlest fancies and extravagancies which mortal can conceive that have been crowded into the dreams of a whole life, (not to mention the wickednesses) and then look back on the few, the very few, that could be twisted into any meaning—let them think of the hosts of impossibilities of which they have dreamt that have passed away unheeded by them—and they will cease to attribute miraculous origin to one or two that are wise, the “ rari nantes in gurgite vasto, or, indeed, to such a state of vagaries as accompanies imperfect sleep. Above all, let them sup, for a few nights, heavily, on pork chops and vegetables, not forgetting plenty of porter, and if their sense of the dignity of dreams be not diminished, by discovering their intimate connexion with the stomach, I should wonder at it.

Much information on these matters, and in an amusing form, may be found in Macnish's interesting little work on the “ Philosophy of Sleep."

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DRUN KENNESS.

Olivia. What's a drunken man like, fool ?

Clown. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman : one draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him.

Twelfth Night, Act i, Scene 5.

ENCOURAGED BY CERTAIN CUSTOMS OF HOSPITALITY.

:

lago. Come, lieutenant, I have a stoop of wine, &c.

Cassio. Not to-night, good Jago : I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking. I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.

Othello. Act ii. Scene 3,

DRUNKENNESS WICKED AND BEASTLIKE.

Cassio. Drunk ?—and speak parrot ?—and squabble ? swagger ?- - swear ?-and discourse fustian with one's own shadow ?-Oh, thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee-devil !

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Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains ! that we should, with joy,

revel, pleasure, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts !

To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast! Oh, strange !--Every inordinate cup is unblest, and the ingredient is a devil.

Othello. Act ii. Scene 3.

DRUNKENNESS is such a disgusting subject, that I scarcely feel inclined to soil my pen with it. How lamentable to think of the prevalence of such a vice in a nation boasting of taking the lead of the world in civilization! Will the efforts of all the temperance societies and abstinence societies avail to check its spread ? It is more than doubtful. The evil lies too deep for such a shallow remedy. “ Educate! educate !” exclaim some philanthropists. “ Educate! educate!” I willingly echo. But how ? It needs but a glance at the higher classes of society, to see that even o educated" men are sometimes drunkards. The fact is that education of the intellectual faculties alone will not do. And where is moral education to be found ? It is a thing hardly heard of, or thought of. It is high time the world should begin such a system, at least to see what effect it might produce.

The task of checking intemperance (by the way) will plainly lie with the middle classes. It is in the extremes of society, the high and low, that drunkenness is so much indulged in. An evident modification of that riotous hospitality which was once so common, and to which Cassio alludes as a provocative to intemperance, is now creeping into the middle classes of society, and promises the best results amongst them. The introduction of rational occupations and amusements amongst the labouring classes may also have a good temporary effect, and serve to check the vice, until the happy time comes, when cultivation of the moral and mental qualities, from infancy upwards, is extended to every being in the nation. Let every man that abhors vice, whether in the form of drunkenness, or any other less ugly shape, do what in him lies to hasten on that period.

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Prospero.
ur revels now are ended : these our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air :
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind : we are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

Tempest Act iv. Scene 1.

Warwick. Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and

dust? And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

3rd part King Henry VI. Act v. Scene 2.

Pericles. . Death remember'd, should be like a mirror, Which tells us, life's but breath; to trust it, error.

Pericles. Act i. Scene 1.

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