Thus, that delightful6 writer, WASHINGTON IRVING, in his Tales of a Traveller. But, it happened to me the other night to be lying: not with my eyes half closed, but with my eyes wide open; not with my nightcap drawn almost down to my nose, for on sanitary7 principles I never wear a nightcap: but with my hair pitchforked and touzled all over the pillow; not just falling asleep by any means, but glaringly, persistently8, and obstinately10, broad awake. Perhaps, with no scientific intention or invention, I was illustrating11 the theory of the Duality of the Brain; perhaps one part of my brain, being wakeful, sat up to watch the other part which was sleepy. Be that as it may, something in me was as desirous to go to sleep as it possibly could be, but something else in me WOULD NOT go to sleep, and was as obstinate9 as George the Third.
Thinking of George the Third — for I devote this paper to my train of thoughts as I lay awake: most people lying awake sometimes, and having some interest in the subject — put me in mind of BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, and so Benjamin Franklin’s paper on the art of procuring12 pleasant dreams, which would seem necessarily to include the art of going to sleep, came into my head. Now, as I often used to read that paper when I was a very small boy, and as I recollect13 everything I read then as perfectly14 as I forget everything I read now, I quoted ‘Get out of bed, beat up and turn your pillow, shake the bed-clothes well with at least twenty shakes, then throw the bed open and leave it to cool; in the meanwhile, continuing undrest, walk about your chamber15. When you begin to feel the cold air unpleasant, then return to your bed, and you will soon fall asleep, and your sleep will be sweet and pleasant.’ Not a bit of it! I performed the whole ceremony, and if it were possible for me to be more saucer-eyed than I was before, that was the only result that came of it.
Except Niagara. The two quotations16 from Washington Irving and Benjamin Franklin may have put it in my head by an American association of ideas; but there I was, and the Horse-shoe Fall was thundering and tumbling in my eyes and ears, and the very rainbows that I left upon the spray when I really did last look upon it, were beautiful to see. The night-light being quite as plain, however, and sleep seeming to be many thousand miles further off than Niagara, I made up my mind to think a little about Sleep; which I no sooner did than I whirled off in spite of myself to Drury Lane Theatre, and there saw a great actor and dear friend of mine (whom I had been thinking of in the day) playing Macbeth, and heard him apostrophising ‘the death of each day’s life,’ as I have heard him many a time, in the days that are gone.
But, Sleep. I WILL think about Sleep. I am determined17 to think (this is the way I went on) about Sleep. I must hold the word Sleep, tight and fast, or I shall be off at a tangent in half a second. I feel myself unaccountably straying, already, into Clare Market. Sleep. It would be curious, as illustrating the equality of sleep, to inquire how many of its phenomena18 are common to all classes, to all degrees of wealth and poverty, to every grade of education and ignorance. Here, for example, is her Majesty19 Queen Victoria in her palace, this present blessed night, and here is Winking20 Charley, a sturdy vagrant21, in one of her Majesty’s jails. Her Majesty has fallen, many thousands of times, from that same Tower, which I claim a right to tumble off now and then. So has Winking Charley. Her Majesty in her sleep has opened or prorogued22 Parliament, or has held a Drawing Room, attired23 in some very scanty24 dress, the deficiencies and improprieties of which have caused her great uneasiness. I, in my degree, have suffered unspeakable agitation25 of mind from taking the chair at a public dinner at the London Tavern26 in my night-clothes, which not all the courtesy of my kind friend and host MR. BATHE could persuade me were quite adapted to the occasion. Winking Charley has been repeatedly tried in a worse condition. Her Majesty is no stranger to a vault27 or firmament28, of a sort of floorcloth, with an indistinct pattern distantly resembling eyes, which occasionally obtrudes29 itself on her repose30. Neither am I. Neither is Winking Charley. It is quite common to all three of us to skim along with airy strides a little above the ground; also to hold, with the deepest interest, dialogues with various people, all represented by ourselves; and to be at our wit’s end to know what they are going to tell us; and to be indescribably astonished by the secrets they disclose. It is probable that we have all three committed murders and hidden bodies. It is pretty certain that we have all desperately31 wanted to cry out, and have had no voice; that we have all gone to the play and not been able to get in; that we have all dreamed much more of our youth than of our later lives; that — I have lost it! The thread’s broken.
And up I go. I, lying here with the night-light before me, up I go, for no reason on earth that I can find out, and drawn by no links that are visible to me, up the Great Saint Bernard! I have lived in Switzerland, and rambled32 among the mountains; but, why I should go there now, and why up the Great Saint Bernard in preference to any other mountain, I have no idea. As I lie here broad awake, and with every sense so sharpened that I can distinctly hear distant noises inaudible to me at another time, I make that journey, as I really did, on the same summer day, with the same happy party — ah! two since dead, I grieve to think — and there is the same track, with the same black wooden arms to point the way, and there are the same storm-refuges here and there; and there is the same snow falling at the top, and there are the same frosty mists, and there is the same intensely cold convent with its menagerie smell, and the same breed of dogs fast dying out, and the same breed of jolly young monks33 whom I mourn to know as humbugs34, and the same convent parlour with its piano and the sitting round the fire, and the same supper, and the same lone35 night in a cell, and the same bright fresh morning when going out into the highly rarefied air was like a plunge36 into an icy bath. Now, see here what comes along; and why does this thing stalk into my mind on the top of a Swiss mountain!
It is a figure that I once saw, just after dark, chalked upon a door in a little back lane near a country church — my first church. How young a child I may have been at the time I don’t know, but it horrified37 me so intensely — in connexion with the churchyard, I suppose, for it smokes a pipe, and has a big hat with each of its ears sticking out in a horizontal line under the brim, and is not in itself more oppressive than a mouth from ear to ear, a pair of goggle38 eyes, and hands like two bunches of carrots, five in each, can make it — that it is still vaguely39 alarming to me to recall (as I have often done before, lying awake) the running home, the looking behind, the horror, of its following me; though whether disconnected from the door, or door and all, I can’t say, and perhaps never could. It lays a disagreeable train. I must resolve to think of something on the voluntary principle.
The balloon ascents40 of this last season. They will do to think about, while I lie awake, as well as anything else. I must hold them tight though, for I feel them sliding away, and in their stead are the Mannings, husband and wife, hanging on the top of Horse-monger Lane Jail. In connexion with which dismal41 spectacle, I recall this curious fantasy of the mind. That, having beheld42 that execution, and having left those two forms dangling43 on the top of the entrance gateway44 — the man’s, a limp, loose suit of clothes as if the man had gone out of them; the woman’s, a fine shape, so elaborately corseted and artfully dressed, that it was quite unchanged in its trim appearance as it slowly swung from side to side — I never could, by my uttermost efforts, for some weeks, present the outside of that prison to myself (which the terrible impression I had received continually obliged me to do) without presenting it with the two figures still hanging in the morning air. Until, strolling past the gloomy place one night, when the street was deserted45 and quiet, and actually seeing that the bodies were not there, my fancy was persuaded, as it were, to take them down and bury them within the precincts of the jail, where they have lain ever since.
The balloon ascents of last season. Let me reckon them up. There were the horse, the bull, the parachute, — and the tumbler hanging on — chiefly by his toes, I believe — below the car. Very wrong, indeed, and decidedly to be stopped. But, in connexion with these and similar dangerous exhibitions, it strikes me that that portion of the public whom they entertain, is unjustly reproached. Their pleasure is in the difficulty overcome. They are a public of great faith, and are quite confident that the gentleman will not fall off the horse, or the lady off the bull or out of the parachute, and that the tumbler has a firm hold with his toes. They do not go to see the adventurer vanquished46, but triumphant47. There is no parallel in public combats between men and beasts, because nobody can answer for the particular beast — unless it were always the same beast, in which case it would be a mere48 stage-show, which the same public would go in the same state of mind to see, entirely49 believing in the brute50 being beforehand safely subdued51 by the man. That they are not accustomed to calculate hazards and dangers with any nicety, we may know from their rash exposure of themselves in overcrowded steamboats, and unsafe conveyances52 and places of all kinds. And I cannot help thinking that instead of railing, and attributing savage53 motives54 to a people naturally well disposed and humane55, it is better to teach them, and lead them argumentatively and reasonably — for they are very reasonable, if you will discuss a matter with them — to more considerate and wise conclusions.
This is a disagreeable intrusion! Here is a man with his throat cut, dashing towards me as I lie awake! A recollection of an old story of a kinsman56 of mine, who, going home one foggy winter night to Hampstead, when London was much smaller and the road lonesome, suddenly encountered such a figure rushing past him, and presently two keepers from a madhouse in pursuit. A very unpleasant creature indeed, to come into my mind unbidden, as I lie awake.
— The balloon ascents of last season. I must return to the balloons. Why did the bleeding man start out of them? Never mind; if I inquire, he will be back again. The balloons. This particular public have inherently a great pleasure in the contemplation of physical difficulties overcome; mainly, as I take it, because the lives of a large majority of them are exceedingly monotonous57 and real, and further, are a struggle against continual difficulties, and further still, because anything in the form of accidental injury, or any kind of illness or disability is so very serious in their own sphere. I will explain this seeming paradox58 of mine. Take the case of a Christmas Pantomime. Surely nobody supposes that the young mother in the pit who falls into fits of laughter when the baby is boiled or sat upon, would be at all diverted by such an occurrence off the stage. Nor is the decent workman in the gallery, who is transported beyond the ignorant present by the delight with which he sees a stout59 gentleman pushed out of a two pair of stairs window, to be slandered60 by the suspicion that he would be in the least entertained by such a spectacle in any street in London, Paris, or New York. It always appears to me that the secret of this enjoyment61 lies in the temporary superiority to the common hazards and mischances of life; in seeing casualties, attended when they really occur with bodily and mental suffering, tears, and poverty, happen through a very rough sort of poetry without the least harm being done to any one — the pretence62 of distress63 in a pantomime being so broadly humorous as to be no pretence at all. Much as in the comic fiction I can understand the mother with a very vulnerable baby at home, greatly relishing64 the invulnerable baby on the stage, so in the Cremorne reality I can understand the mason who is always liable to fall off a scaffold in his working jacket and to be carried to the hospital, having an infinite admiration65 of the radiant personage in spangles who goes into the clouds upon a bull, or upside down, and who, he takes it for granted — not reflecting upon the thing — has, by uncommon66 skill and dexterity67, conquered such mischances as those to which he and his acquaintance are continually exposed.
I wish the Morgue in Paris would not come here as I lie awake, with its ghastly beds, and the swollen68 saturated69 clothes hanging up, and the water dripping, dripping all day long, upon that other swollen saturated something in the corner, like a heap of crushed over-ripe figs70 that I have seen in Italy! And this detestable Morgue comes back again at the head of a procession of forgotten ghost stories. This will never do. I must think of something else as I lie awake; or, like that sagacious animal in the United States who recognised the colonel who was such a dead shot, I am a gone ‘Coon. What shall I think of? The late brutal71 assaults. Very good subject. The late brutal assaults.
(Though whether, supposing I should see, here before me as I lie awake, the awful phantom72 described in one of those ghost stories, who, with a head-dress of shroud73, was always seen looking in through a certain glass door at a certain dead hour — whether, in such a case it would be the least consolation74 to me to know on philosophical75 grounds that it was merely my imagination, is a question I can’t help asking myself by the way.)
The late brutal assaults. I strongly question the expediency76 of advocating the revival77 of whipping for those crimes. It is a natural and generous impulse to be indignant at the perpetration of inconceivable brutality78, but I doubt the whipping panacea79 gravely. Not in the least regard or pity for the criminal, whom I hold in far lower estimation than a mad wolf, but in consideration for the general tone and feeling, which is very much improved since the whipping times. It is bad for a people to be familiarised with such punishments. When the whip went out of Bridewell, and ceased to be flourished at the carts tail and at the whipping-post, it began to fade out of madhouses, and workhouses, and schools and families, and to give place to a better system everywhere, than cruel driving. It would be hasty, because a few brutes80 may be inadequately81 punished, to revive, in any aspect, what, in so many aspects, society is hardly yet happily rid of. The whip is a very contagious82 kind of thing, and difficult to confine within one set of bounds. Utterly83 abolish punishment by fine — a barbarous device, quite as much out of date as wager84 by battle, but particularly connected in the vulgar mind with this class of offence — at least quadruple the term of imprisonment85 for aggravated86 assaults — and above all let us, in such cases, have no Pet Prisoning, vain glorifying87, strong soup, and roasted meats, but hard work, and one unchanging and uncompromising dietary of bread and water, well or ill; and we shall do much better than by going down into the dark to grope for the whip among the rusty88 fragments of the rack, and the branding iron, and the chains and gibbet from the public roads, and the weights that pressed men to death in the cells of Newgate.
I had proceeded thus far, when I found I had been lying awake so long that the very dead began to wake too, and to crowd into my thoughts most sorrowfully. Therefore, I resolved to lie awake no more, but to get up and go out for a night walk — which resolution was an acceptable relief to me, as I dare say it may prove now to a great many more.
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1
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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sanitary
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| adj.卫生方面的，卫生的，清洁的，卫生的 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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illustrating
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| 给…加插图( illustrate的现在分词 )； 说明； 表明； （用示例、图画等）说明 | |
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procuring
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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prorogued
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| v.使（议会）休会( prorogue的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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obtrudes
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| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的第三人称单数 ) | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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humbugs
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| 欺骗( humbug的名词复数 )； 虚伪； 骗子； 薄荷硬糖 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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goggle
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| n.瞪眼，转动眼珠，护目镜；v.瞪眼看，转眼珠 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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ascents
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| n.上升( ascent的名词复数 )；（身份、地位等的）提高；上坡路；攀登 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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43
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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45
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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47
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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51
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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conveyances
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| n.传送( conveyance的名词复数 )；运送；表达；运输工具 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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humane
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| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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56
kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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paradox
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| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
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slandered
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| 造谣中伤( slander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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relishing
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| v.欣赏( relish的现在分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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dexterity
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| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
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68
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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saturated
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| a.饱和的，充满的 | |
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figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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73
shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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expediency
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| n.适宜；方便；合算；利己 | |
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revival
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| n.复兴，复苏，（精力、活力等的）重振 | |
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brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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panacea
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| n.万灵药；治百病的灵药 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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81
inadequately
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| ad.不够地；不够好地 | |
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82
contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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83
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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84
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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85
imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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aggravated
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| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
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glorifying
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| 赞美( glorify的现在分词 )； 颂扬； 美化； 使光荣 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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