all such cases. The curtain
flaps, and we resist it; the door swings to over and over again, and we
resist it, and keep ourselves awake by wondering why it does not stop;
we hear noises in the street that we am unused to, especially if we are
accustomed to sleeping in the stillness of the country, and we toss and
turn and wish we were in a quiet place. All the trouble comes from our
own resistance to the noise, and resistance is nothing but
unwillingness to submit to our conditions.

If we are willing that the curtain should go on flapping, the door go
on slamming, or the noise in the street continue steadily on, our
brains yield to the conditions and so sleep naturally, because the
noise goes through us, so to speak, and does not run hard against our
unwillingness to hear it.

There are three facts which may help to remove the resistance which
naturally arises at any unusual sound when we are tired and want to get
rest.

One is that in almost every sound there is a certain rhythm. If we
yield to the sound enough to become sensitive to its rhythm, that, in
itself, is soothing, and what before was keeping us awake now _helps us
to go to sleep._ This pleasant effect of finding the rhythm in sound is
especially helpful if one is inclined to lie awake while travelling in
sleeping cars. The rhythm of sound and motion in sleeping cars and
steamers is, in itself, soothing. If you have the habit of feeling as
if you could never get refreshing sleep in a sleeping car, first be
sure that you have as much fresh air as possible, and then make up your
mind that you will spend the whole night, if necessary, in noticing the
rhythm of the motion and sound of the cars. If you keep your mind
steadily on it, you will probably be asleep in less than an hour, and,
when the car stops, you will wake only enough to settle comfortably
into the sense of motion when it starts again. It is pleasant to notice
the gentleness with which a good engineer starts his train at night. Of
course there is a difference in engineers, and some are much more
gentle in starting their engines than others, but the delicacy with
which the engine is started by the most expert is delightful to feel,
and gives us many a lesson on the use of gentle beginnings, with other
things besides locomotive engines, and especially in our dealings with
each other.

The second fact with regard to yielding, instead of resisting, in order
to get to sleep is that listening alone,