Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's sweet restorer.
--Macbeth.

During sleep, the vital forces restore themselves to that healthy
balance which the continuance of our being so much requires; all the
cramped ideas and feelings, the overstrained actions which have
troubled us through the day, are solved in the entire relaxation of the
sensorium; the harmony of the motions of the mind are resumed, and the
newly-awakened man greets the coming day more calmly.

In relation to the arrangement of the whole, also, we cannot sufficiently
admire the worth and importance of this limitation. The arrangement
necessarily causes many, who should be no less happy, to be sacrificed to
the general order and to bear the lot of oppression. Likewise, many,
whom we perhaps unjustly envy, must expend their mental and bodily
strength in restless exertion, so that the repose of the whole be
preserved. The same with sick persons, the same with unreasoning
animals. Sleep seals the eye of care, takes from the prince and
statesman the heavy weight of governing; pours new force into the veins
of the sick man, and rest into his harassed soul; the daylaborer no
longer hears the voice of the oppressor, and the ill-used beast escapes
from the tyranny of man. Sleep buries all cares and troubles, balances
everything, equips every one with new-born powers to bear the joys and
sorrows of the next day.



S 27.--Severing of the Connection.