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It was at one time a universal opinion that the dreams with which an individual was most frequently visited, were prophetic of some evil or good event that was shortly to occur to him; or at least, that "in these visions of the night" was shadowed forth to him in a species of allegory, the scenes and trials of his future life. With a more intimate acquaintance with the functions of the brain and of the human system in general, and the introduction of a more accurate system of philosophising, these ridiculous notions have in a great measure been dispelled. Among persons of education they are no longer entertained; but among the ignorant and credulous we still find more or less importance is placed upon the vagaries of the mind, in that state of partial sleep during which alone dreams can occur. That a profitable use may be made of dreams, we are perfectly willing to admit-Upon this subject there is much good sense displayed in the following extracts from the Essay of Dr. Beattie on dreaming.

When we have an uncommon dream, we ought to look-not forward with apprehension, as if it were to be the forerunner of calamity; but rather backward, to see if we can trace out its cause, and whether we may not, from such a discovery, learn something that may be profitable to us.-I dream, for example, that some of my teeth drop out. That, say the vulgar, betokens the loss of friends. No doubt if I have any friends, and should happen to outlive them, the time must come when I shall lose them. But the dream has nothing to do with either the loss or the acquisition of friends; nor does it direct any thoughts to futurity at all. I wish, rather, to know to what state of my body this dreaming may have been owing: which if I can, who knows but I may draw advantage from my dream? My teeth seemed to drop out. Perhaps VOL. IV.-X

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at that time my gums were affected with some painful sensation, or convulsive movement. Might not this be occasioned by too heavy a supper, or by an ill digested dinner? Let me eat lighter food, and in less quantity, for some time, and observe, whether the same vision makes a second appearance. I make the trial; and I find that my sleep is sounder, and my dreams more agreeable. This is making a right use of dreams, and in this way I am persuaded, that persons, who divest themselves of superstition and prejudice, might make important discoveries in regard to their health.

In some constitutions, certain dreams go before, or accompany, the beginnings of certain diseases. Where, for example there is any tendency to fever, we are apt to dream of performing, with great labour, some work, we know not precisely what, in which we never make any progress. This imagination will occur in sleep, even when one has no means of observing, while awake, any symptoms that could lead one to suspect one's health to be in danger; and when it does occur, may it not serve as a warning to make some change in the ordinary regimen, to eat or drink less than usual, or have recourse to some of those other methods, whereby acute distempers are prevented? In general, when one is haunted with disagreeable dreams, it may, I think, be taken as a sign, that something is wrong in the constitution, and, therefore, that temperance, fasting, or exercise may be requisite, to avert the impending evil. And these are remedies, which one may have recourse to, and in regard to which one may venture to make a few experiments, in almost any circumstances. Agreeable dreams I would take for the signs of health; and consider them, accordingly, as good, and not evil.

This theory which I have reason to think is not without foundation, may to such as acquiesce in it, prove a good antidote to those idle superstitions in the affair of dreaming, which have been too prevalent in all ages.

After hinting that dreams may be of use in the way of physical admonition; what if I should go a step further, and say, that they may be serviceable, as a means of moral improvement? I will not affirm, however, as some have done, that, by them, we may make a more accurate discovery of our temper and prevailing passions, than by observing what passes in our minds when awake. For in sleep we are very incompetent judges of ourselves, and of every thing else; and one will dream of committing crimes with little remorse, which, if awake, one could not think of without horror. But, as many of our passions are inflamed or allayed by the temperature of the body, this, I think, may be affirmed with truth, that, by attending to what passes in sleep, we may sometimes discern what passions are predominant, and so receive good hints for the regula

tion of them.

... Intemperance of every kind, in eating or drinking, in sleep or watching, in rest or exercise, tends to make dreams disagreeable; and therefore, one end of dreaming may be to recommend temperance and moderation. For the time we employ in sleep bears a

The Pursuit of Knowledge.

185 great proportion to the whole of human life; and if there be any expedient for rendering that part of time agreeable, it is surely worth while to put it in practice. Habits of virtue and soberness, the repression of turbulent desires; and the indulgence of pious, social, and cheerful dispositions, are, for the most part, effectual in giving that lightness to the animal spirits, and that calm temperature to the blood, which promote pleasurable thoughts through the day, and sweet slumber and easy dreams by night.

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As agreeable thoughts accompany good health; as violent passions, and even madness, are the effect of certain diseases; as dullness and confusion of thought, may be occasioned by a loaded stomach; and as the swallowing of much strong liquor produces a temporary madness-as our thoughts, I say, when we are awake, are so much determined by our bodily habit, it is no wonder that they should be still more liable to such influence when we are asleep.

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THE PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE.-SIR THOMAS SMITH. They who have paid much attention to biography, must have been frequently struck with the variety and extent of information, in the various departments of human knowledge, which are ascribed to many of the individuals whose names are distinguished on the page of history or in the annals of science. By the indolent and irresolute, the statements in this respect will often be deemed improbable, if not beyond the range of probability; while they whose total inattention to the economy of time, renders them always busily employed, in the end, though they accomplish very little, will be astonished that men, often engaged in the most active pursuits of life, should have found time for the acquisition of numerous and difficult languages, sciences and arts, to master the simplest of which would be to them the occupation of an entire life. Every man, however, has in truth, much more time for the pursuit of knowledge than the majority are perhaps aware. If at a period, when the cultivation of the mind was attended with far greater difficulty than is now the case, individuals were enabled to master all that was then to be acquired in the way of learning and of science, while, at the same time, we seldom missed them from amid the active scenes of life; surely the same, or even more, may be done now, when the road to knowledge is travelled with so much greater facility. Far be it from us to recommend that entire abandonment of every social and active duty-that wasting of midnight oil in the pursuit of knowledge which characterized most of the professed students of former years, and which, as an old writer expresses it, "caused the mind, certes, to wax, but the body to wane. On the contrary, allowing sufficient time for the social duties of life, and for that relaxation and amusement so essential to health and comfort, enough is still left to almost every one, for the acquirement of a vast amount of useful information, whether literary or scientific. All that is required is a proper distribution of our waking hours,

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Domestic Life of a Roman Emperor.

giving to each object to which our attention is to be directed its appropriate portion of the day; together with the improvement of those portions of time, which are so often consumed in enervating sloth or in trifling and debasing pursuits. By this means, a man of ordinary capacity has it in his power almost to rival the admirable Crichton, so celebrated for the extent and variety of his acquired knowledge. The difficulty is not so much in the amount of labour to be performed, neither in the want of sufficient time for its performance; it is in conquering the numerous impediments arising from our indolence, our want of perseverance, our improper indulgencies, and vitiated tastes, by which every available moment of our lives is too often completely occupied.

We have been led into these remarks by the perusal of a concise but well written life of Sir Thomas Smith, Secretary of State, first to King Edward VI., and subsequently to Queen Elizabeth of England, who died in the year 1577, aged 63 years.

In summing up his character, his biographer concludes as follows:

"Sir Thomas was of a fair sanguine complexion, and had a calm, ingenuous countenance, as appears by his picture hanging in the parlour at Hill Hall, said to have been painted by Hans Holbein: He is there represented in a round cap, and with a civilian's gown; a great ruby ring upon his finger, with a curious seal, which ring is still preserved in his family, one of his hands supported upon a globe. Strype informs us that he was one of the best scholars of his age; a great admirer of the Platonic phylosophy; a good natural philosopher and chymist; an excellent mathematician, astronomer and arithmetician; a cunning politician;* master of the Hebrew, Greek, Latin, French, Italian and English languages; a great historian, especially in the Roman history; a complete orator; well skilled in gardening, architecture, &c. And as to his virtuous accomplishments, he was a sincere protestant, exemplary for truth, and integrity, for an inviolable love for justice and uprightness, a most unchangeable faithfulness and zeal for the concerns of his Queen and his country. His life and manners were irreproachable; he was of a grave, and yet obliging behaviour; a perfect stranger to the too common practices of courts, fraud and falsehood, flattery and treachery, vice and debauchery. He was likewise of a resolute and active mind, and of universal charity and benevolence towards all mankind."

DOMESTIC LIFE OF A ROMAN EMPEROR.

The simple Journal of the ordinary occupations of Alexander Severus, the Roman Emperor, exhibits a pleasing picture of an accomplished gentleman, and with some allowance for the difference of manners, is well deserving of imitation at the present day.

*The term cunning, is not used here by the honest old chronicler as a term of reproach in its modern sense of sleight-tricky-deceitful, but with its original Saxon meaning-expert, skillful, dexterous.

Domestic Life of a Roman Emperor.

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Alexander, we are informed rose early; the first moments of the day were consecrated to private devotion in a temple adorned with the images of those illustrious men, who by contributing to the improvement or reform of the human character, deserved the grateful reverence of posterity. But as he deemed the service of mankind the most acceptable worship of the gods, the greater part of the morning was employed in council, where he discussed public affairs and decided private concerns with a patience and discretion above his years. The dry details of business were relieved by the charms of literature-a portion of the day being always set apart for his favourite studies in poetry, history and philosophy. The works of Horace and Virgil, the republics of Plato and of Cicero formed his taste, enlarged his understanding and gave him the noblest ideas in relation to man and to government. The exercises of the body succeeded to those of the mind; and Alexander, who was tall, active and robust, surpassed most of his equals in the gymnastic practices of that period. Refreshed by the use of the bath and a slight repast, he resumed with new vigour the business of the day. Until the hour of supper, the principal meal of the Romans, he was attended by his Secretary, with whom he read and answered the numerous communications, memorials and petitions, addressed from all quarters to the master of the greater part of the then known world. His table was served with the utmost frugality and with the simplest food; and, whenever he was at liberty to consult his own inclinations, we are assured, that the company consisted only of a few select friends, men of learning and of virtue, among whom Ulpian, his prime minister, and a good man, was constantly invited. Their conversation was free, familiar and instructive; and the pauses were occasionally enlivened by the recital of some pleasing composition, which supplied the place of the dancers, comedians, and even gladiators so frequently summoned to the tables of the rich and luxuriant Romans. The dress of Alexander was plain and modest, his demeanor courteous and affable. At the proper hours his palace was open to all his subjects; but the voice of a crier was heard as in the Eleusinian mysteries, pronouncing the same salutary admonition, "Let none enter these holy walls, unless he is conscious of a pure and virtuous mind.”

Christian princes, and scholars and gentlemen, might also take a lesson of sobriety and temperance from the Roman Emperor Julian. "One of his most intimate friends, who had often shared the frugal simplicity of his table, has remarked, that his light and sparing diet (which was usually of the vegetable kind) left his mind and body always free and active, for the various and important business of an author, a pontiff, a magistrate, a general, and a prince. He possessed such a flexibility of thought, and such firmness of attention, that he could employ his hand to write, his ear to listen, and his voice to dictate; and pursue at once three several trains of ideas without hesitation and without error. While his ministers reposed, the prince flew with agility from one labour to another, and, after a hasty dinner, retired into his library, till the public business which

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