Chapter III: The Mental Condition of Sleep

Of all the phenomena exhibited in Psychology and Mental Physiology there is none more marvellous than that which is presented to every one of us every night. It only does not astonish us because it is so familiar. Perhaps the reason why so few have given a moment of reflection to its marvels is because they are seen so often. When the attention of the reader is more closely invited to these phenomena he will doubtless be surprised to find what a world of wonder is opened to him.

The passage from waking to sleeping is momentary. The closest observer of his own mental action fails to note it. But what a change is made in that moment! A complete mental revolution has been effected. The man himself has changed entirely. He has ceased to be a rational being! He is almost wholly severed from the external world, which exists for him no longer! His _Will_ (which is the name we give to the _expression_ of the Conscious Self) is paralysed. He has ceased to command his thoughts and his emotions. He has no control over his limbs. With the sole exception that he dreams, he is but a breathing clod. Of the forces that move his Mechanism, Life alone is active, working steadily and harmoniously as before. As we shall presently see, the other forces that move and direct the mechanism—the forces of _Mind_ and _Soul_—are not inactive. But they have withdrawn from their waking work. They exist and their existence is manifest. But they have ceased to control and the mechanism has ceased to obey.

Some proof this—is it not?—that these Psychic Forces are distinct from the vital force and from the physical forces and have another origin. These phenomena of sleep supply further and most cogent evidence of the fallacy of the contention of the Materialists, that the vital force alone governs the mechanism of Man, and that all the forces that direct the mechanism are generated within the machine.

In sleep the vital force continues to do its normal work. At the same moment some other force or forces are engaged in doing abnormal work, thus establishing the fact that some force or forces, other than the vital force or the physical forces, are employed in moving the mechanism of Man.

Pause to think for a moment what is this wonderful mental change that in a moment converts _the Man_ into something less than a mere animal—into little more than a senseless vegetable!

What, then, is the _mental_ process of sleep?

The first perceptible signs of its coming are what are well called “wandering thoughts.” The Will resigns its control, at first fitfully, then at intervals continually diminishing. Nevertheless the Will strives to retain its hold upon the brain, then relaxes, then seizes it again, but with ever lessening power. “_Attention_” to the subject before the mind wanders—is recalled—wanders again—and then ceases altogether.

With this relaxation of the _Will_, and consequently of “attention,”—which is an effort of the Will—ideas begin to flow unbidden into the mind. At first they are banished almost as soon as they appear. But presently they return and disturb the train of waking thought; then they mingle with it; then they put it altogether to rout, and usurp its place. At the beginning, we are competent to sever the intruding ideas from the true ones and we make an effort to banish them if we desire to be wakeful. But they return ever more vividly and persistently, until at length they take possession of the mind. If we are courting sleep, we welcome the intruders and willingly resign the control of our thoughts. In either case the state of actual sleep occurs at the instant when the _Will_ ceases to work and _attention_ ends.

Then begins the condition of _Dream_, to be treated of presently.

Our business now is to trace, so far as we can, the _mental_ change that attends the condition of sleep. The phenomena just described are the action of the mind in the process of _falling asleep_. The _state of sleep_ presents other features.

The mental condition of sleep, apart from dream, is very remarkable and should be carefully noted and remembered by the Student of Psychology.

The _Senses_ are suspended—but not entirely. They are rather dulled than paralysed. We hear, but imperfectly, and we are unable to measure the sound. Often a loud noise is not heard when a whisper wakens; or a slight sound seems to the sleeper like the report of cannon. The sense of touch is only dulled, as we know by the manner in which it influences dream. Whether the sense of sight ceases entirely we cannot know, because the eyelids veil the eyes and external impressions are consequently not made upon them. Taste and smell are dimmed but not effaced.