et as well for the body as for the mind. During my long
experience, amid the vicissitudes of a chequered life, I have found that
periods of profound rest at certain intervals, in addition to the
ordinary hours of repose, are necessary to the wellbeing of man. And the
nature as well as the period of this rest varies, according to the
different temperaments of individuals, and the peculiar circumstances in
which they may chance to be placed. To those who work with their minds,
bodily labour is rest. To those who labour with the body, deep sleep is
rest. To the downcast, the weary, and the sorrowful, joy and peace are
rest. Nay, further, I think that to the gay, the frivolous, the
reckless, when sated with pleasures that cannot last, even sorrow proves
to be rest of a kind, although, perchance, it were better that I should
call it relief than rest. There is, indeed, but one class of men to whom
rest is denied. There is no rest to the wicked. At this I do but hint,
however, as I treat not of that rest which is spiritual, but, more
particularly, of that which applies to the mind and to the body.

Of this rest we stood much in need on our return home, and we found it
exceedingly sweet, when we indulged in it, after completing the journey
just related. It had not, indeed, been a very long journey, nevertheless
we had pursued it so diligently that our frames were not a little
prostrated. Our minds were also very much exhausted in consequence of
the many surprises, frequent alarms, and much profound thought, to which
they had been subjected; so that when we lay down on the night of our
return under the shelter of the bower, we fell immediately into very deep
repose. I can state this with much certainty, for Jack afterwards
admitted the fact, and Peterkin, although he stoutly denied it, I heard
snoring loudly at least two minutes after lying down. In this condition
we remained all night and the whole of the following day without awaking
once, or so much as moving our positions. When we did awake it was near
sunset, and we were all in such a state of lassitude that we merely rose
to swallow a mouthful of food. As Peterkin remarked, in the midst of a
yawn, we took breakfast at tea-time, and then went to bed again, where we
lay till the following forenoon.

After this we arose very greatly refreshed, but much alarmed lest we had
lost count of a day. I say we were much alarmed on this head, for we had
carefully kept c