o sleep, we are beholden to thee, sleep,

thou bearest angels to us in the night,

saints out of heaven with palms.

jean ingelow.

we know so little about sleep, positively, that anyone may assume one thing or another about it, so long as what he assumes accords with what we do know positively.

it has been surmised that, during sleep, the subconscious mind is busy with the day’s impressions of the objective mind,[2] fitting and relating them to past experiences, the sum of which makes up the man himself. the subconscious mind is, in a sense, man’s attitude to life. it receives suggestions more easily than the objective mind receives them, and has more effect upon man’s understanding of life. if our last conscious thought is a loving thought toward all living things, we have aided the latent mind in its effort to get in tune with the infinite harmony of life. alice herring christopher,16 the metaphysician, once told me that every night as she drops off to sleep she says to herself that she is going to have a lovely time, and as a consequence she does; and that, on waking, she tries to realize how delightful her sleep has been.

there is an old saying that, when a baby smiles in its sleep, it is because the angels are whispering to it, and, if we kept ourselves in communion with the substance of things, “angels” might bring us sweet messages, too. they surely will, if we drop to sleep as lovingly and peacefully as a little child.

another friend of mine, who has the faculty of wearing herself out with the excitement of each day’s experiences, is learning to offset this unnecessary drain upon her strength by suggesting to herself each night, “i shall wake rested and refreshed in the morning.” by this means she is gaining in nervous poise, and averting the numerous “break-downs” from which she used to suffer. having made this much progress,—which brings her “not far from the kingdom,”—it only remains for her to make the full claim for the fulfillment of the promise, “ye shall find rest to your souls,” to secure it.