his one spur, and went thence to the stable; not finding his own saddle in the proper place, he returned to the house and asked for it. Being asked what he wanted with it, he replied, to go his rounds. He returned to the stable, got on the horse without the saddle, and was proceeding to leave the stable: it was with much difficulty and force that Mr. Hewson, junior, assisted by the other lad, could remove him from the horse; his strength was great, and it was with difficulty he was brought in doors. Mr. Hewson, senior, coming home at this time, sent for Mr. Benjamin Ridge, an eminent practitioner in BridgeRoad, who stood by him for a quarter of an hour, during which time the lad considered himself as stopped at the turnpike-gate, and took sixpence out of his pocket to be changed; and holding out his hand for the change, the sixpence was returned to him. He immediately observed, None of your nonsense- -that is the sixpence again; give me my change;' when twopence halfpenny was given to him, he counted it over, and said, None of your gammon; that is not right; I want a penny more;' making the threepence halfpenny, which was his proper change. He then said, 'Give me my castor,' (meaning his hat,) which slang term he had been in the habit of using, and then began to whip and spur to get his horse on. His pulse at this time was 136,

full and hard; no change of countenance could be observed, nor any spasmodic affection of the muscles, the eyes remaining close the whole of the time. His coat was taken off his arm, shirt-sleeves tucked up, and Mr. Ridge bled him to 32 ounces; no alteration had taken place in him during the first part of the time the blood was flowing; at about 24 ounces, the pulse began to decrease; and when the full quantity named above had been taken, it was at 80-a slight perspiration on the forehead. During the time of bleeding, Mr. Hewson related a circumstance of a Mr. Harris, optician, in Holborn, whose son, some years since, walked out on the parapet of the house in his sleep. The boy joined the conversation, and observed, He lived at the corner of BrownlowStreet.' After the arm was tied up, he unlaced one boot, and said he would go to bed: in three minutes from this time, he awoke, got up, and asked what was the matter, (having then been one hour in the trance,) not having the slightest recollection of anything that had passed, and wondered at his arm being tied up, and at the blood, &c. A strong aperient medicine was then administered; he went to bed, slept well, and the next day appeared perfectly well, excepting debility from the bleeding, and operation of the medicine, and has no recollection whatever of what had taken place. None of his

family or himself were ever affected in this way before." *

All that can be done for the cure of sleep-talking, is to remove such causes as we may suppose to have given rise to it. It is, however, in most cases, of such a trivial nature, as not to require any treatment whatever; and when it proceeds from idiosyncracy, or becomes habitual, I believe no means which can be adopted will be of much avail. The state of the digestive apparatus should invariably be attended to, and if disordered, they must be put to rights by suitable medicines. And should the affection proceed, or be supposed to proceed, from hypochondria, hysteria, or the prevalence of any strong mental emotion, these states must be treated according to general principles.

* "Lancet," vol. i.

CHAPTER XIII.

SLEEPLESSNESS.

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by,
One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds, and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;
By turns have all been thought of; yet I lie
Sleepless; and soon the small birds' melodies
Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees;
And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay,
And could not win thee, sleep, by any stealth.

WORDSWORTH.

SLEEP takes place as soon as the sensorial power which animates the mind, the volition, and the organ of the senses, is exhausted; and this exhaustion, under common circumstances, occurs at our ordinary hour of going to rest, or even sooner, if any thing, such as heat, monotony, fatigue, or food, happen to diminish it. But the sensorial power may be increased by various means, as in cases of physical

suffering, or excited imagination, and, consequently, is not expended at the usual time. In this case, the person remains awake, and continues so till the period of its exhaustion, which may not happen for several hours after he lies down, or even not at all, during the whole of that night. Now, whatever increases this power, whether it be balls, assemblies, concerts, grief, joy, or bodily pain, is prejudicial to repose. By them, the mind is exalted to a pitch of unnatural action, from which it is necessary it should descend before it can roll into the calm channel of sleep.

Whatever stimulates the external senses, however slightly, may prevent sleep. Thus, the ticking of a clock has this effect with very sensitive people, although with others it has the opposite effect; and a candle burning in the chamber is attended with the same result. Even when the eyes are shut, this may take place, for the eye-lids are sufficiently transparent to convey the rays of light to the retina. For the same reason, the light of day peering in at the window, may awake us from slumber, without the intervention of any other circumstance. It is said that Napoleon could never sleep if exposed to the influence of light, although, in other circumstances, slumber appeared at his bidding with surprising readiness.