sensation, all distinct idea. The senses deaden, and interrupt their usual operations. The muscles, by degrees, move more slowly, till all voluntary motion has ceased. First, this change begins by the forehead; then the muscles of the eye-lids, the neck, the arms, and the feet, lose their activity, to such a degree, that men seem to be metamorphosed into the state of a plant. The situation of the brain becomes such, that it cannot transmit to the soul the same notions as when awake. The soul sees no object, though the optic nerve is not altered; and it would see nothing, even if the eyes were not shut. The ears are open, and yet they do not hear. In a word, the state of a person asleep is wonderful in all respects. Perhaps, there is but one other in the world so remarkable, and this is visibly the image of that state which death reduces us to. Sleep and death are so nearly alike, it is right to observe it. Who, in reality, can think of sleep, without recollecting death also? As imperceptibly as we now fall into the arms of sleep, shall we one day fall into those of death. It is true, that death often gives warning of its approach several hours or days before: But the real moment in which death seizes us happens suddenly; and when we shall seem to feel the first blow, it will already be our last. The senses, which lose their functions in our sleep, are equally incapable of acting at the approach of death. In the same manner, the ideas are confused, and we forget the objects which surround us. Perhaps, also, the moment of death may be as agreeable as the moment of falling asleep. The convulsions of dying people are as little disagreeable a sensation to them, as the snoring is to those that sleep. Let our devotion often bring this meditation to our pens daily, it does not the less deserve to be remarked, and to become the object of our admiration. How often have those been refreshed and recruited by sleep, who possibly have never reflected on that state; or, at least, have never considered it as one of the remarkable effects of divine goodness! They think that nothing extraordinary happens when balmy sleep comes upon thein. They think the machine, their body, is formed for that situation, and that their inclination to sleep proceeds from causes purely natural. But perhaps sleep may be considered in two different lights. On one side, there is nothing in it which may not result necessarily from our nature. On the other, there is in this natural effect something so striking and wonderful, that it is well worth a closer examination. In the first instance, it is a proof of the wisdom of our Creator, that we go to sleep imperceptibly. Let us try only to watch the moment in which we are falling asleep, and that very attention will prevent it. We shall not go to sleep till that idea is lost. Sleep comes uncalled. It is the only change in our manner of existence, in which reflection has no share; and the more we endeavour to promote it, the less we succeed. Thus, God has directed sleep, that it should become an agreeable necessity to man; and he has made it independent of our will and our reason. Let us pursue this meditation, and reflect on the wonderful state we are in during our sleep. We live without knowing it, without feeling it. The beating of the heart, the circulation of the blood, the digestion, the separation of the juices; in a word, all the animal functions continue and operate in the same manner. The activity of the soul appears for a time in some degree suspended, and gradually loses all sensation, sensation, all distinct idea. The senses deaden, and interrupt their usual operations. The muscles, by degrees, move more slowly, till all voluntary motion has ceased. First, this change begins by the forehead; then the muscles of the eye-lids, the neck, the arms, and the feet, lose their activity, to such a degree, that men seem to be metamorphosed into the state of a plant. The situation of the brain becomes such, that it cannot transmit to the soul the same notions as when awake. The soul sees no object, though the optic nerve is not altered; and it would see nothing, even if the eyes were not shut. The ears are open, and yet they do not hear. In a word, the state of a person asleep is wonderful in all respects. Perhaps, there is but one other in the world so remarkable, and this is visibly the image of that state which death reduces us to. Sleep and death are so nearly alike, it is right to observe it. Who, in reality, can think of sleep, without recollecting death also? As imperceptibly as we now fall into the arms of sleep, shall we one day fall into those of death. It is true, that death often gives warning of its approach several hours or days before: But the real moment in which death seizes us happens suddenly; and when we shall seem to feel the first blow, it will already be our last. The senses, which lose their functions in our sleep, are equally incapable of acting at the approach of death. In the same manner, the ideas are confused, and we forget the objects which surround us. Perhaps, also, the moment of death may be as agreeable as the moment of falling asleep. The convulsions of dying people are as little disagreeable a sensation to them, as the snoring is to those that sleep. Let our devotion often bring this meditation to our our minds. Every time we seek repose in bed, let us reflect on all the wonders of balmy sleep, and bless our Preserver, who, even while we sleep, does such great things for us. Great things, indeed: for, if he did not guard us with a protecting hand, to how many dangers should we not be exposed in the night! If God did not keep and direct the beating of our hearts, the circulation of our blood, and the motions of our muscles, the first sleep after we were born would have delivered us into the arms of death. Let us reflect attentively on all these things, and our own hearts will point to us the duties we ought to fulfil towards so great a benefactor. Then, with joy and gratitude, we shall bless the Lord, who shows himself to be our God in every circumstance through life. JANUARY X. THE ADVANTAGES OF THE CLIMATE WE LET us sensibly feel how happy we are in all respects. For the blessings of our heavenly Father are poured upon us on every side. The prospect of our forests, our meadows, our hills s; the pure and temperate air which surrounds us; the day, the night, the seasons of the year, and the variations which attend them; all prove to us the goodness of God, and the greatness of our felicity. Can we then still be discontented with the lot which is fallen to us, and complain of the economy with which God distributes his blessings; murmuring that we have not a perpetual summer, that the rays of the sun do not constantly shine upon us, and and that an equal degree of warmth is not always felt under our zone. What ingratitude! and at the same time, what ignorance! Indeed, we know not what we wish, nor of what we complain. Is it through carelessness, or pride, that we disown the goodness of God, who has been particularly favourable to our countries? We murmur often at the severity of winter. We are mad enough to envy the inhabitants of places, where this change of seasons is unknown: But it is precisely the winter, which makes the climate we live in one of the most healthy in the world. In hot countries, they are more exposed to epidemic disorders, than where the sun reflects less heat; and the people are not so long lived as in our climate. Besides, it is observed, that men are less robust, and population not so great, as among us. And when the cold is at the highest possible degree with us, we are still much happier than the inhabitants of those countries, where the cold is so much greater, and lasts so much longer, that our severest winters would appear to them to have the mildness of autumn. Let us compare, in imagination, our lot with that of the inhabitants of the northern part of our globe. Here, some rays of the sun come to brighten our cloudy days, and revive our spirits. There, neither days nor nights are ever enlivened by the light of that beneficent globe. Here, by means of a warm fire, or in bed, we are perfectly secured from the severity of the cold. There, on the contrary, disturbed, attacked by fierce beasts, men dread them more than the cold; and their poor cottages cannot defend them from those different kinds of enemies. With us, the pleasures of society soften the inconveniencies of winter: But the unhappy mortals near the north pole, are almost shut out from the rest of the earth, and live dispersed |