Instead of rising from table after dinner, and availing themselves of the cooling and refreshing qualities of the air, even in the finest seasons, when every thing which pure and simple nature can offer, invites them abroad, they do every thing they can, as Dr. Beddoes observes, to add to the overstimulating operation of a full and hearty dinner. After taking strong wine with their food, they sit in rooms rendered progressively warmer, all the afternoon, by the presence of company, by the increase of fires, and for more than half the year, by the early closing of the shutters, and letting down of the window curtains. After a short interval, tea and coffee succeed; liquors stimulating both by their inherent qualities, and by virtue of the temperature at which they are often drank. And that nothing may be wanting to their pernicious effect, they are frequently taken in the very stew and squeeze of a fashionable mob. The season of sleep succeeds, and to crown the adventures of the evening, the bed room is fastened close, and made stifling by a fire: and though the robust may not quickly feel the effects of this mode of life, with the feeble it is quite otherwise. These, as they usually manage, rarely pass a few hours of sleep without feverishness and uneasy dreams; both of which contribute to their finding themselves by far more spent and spiritless in the morning, than after their evening fit of forced excitement, instead of having their spirits and strength recruited by the "chief nourisher in life's feast," Perhaps they drink tea before rising, and indulge in a morning nap; this weakens much more than the greatest muscular exertion they would be capable of supporting for an equal time. For the sleep at this time is almost invariably disturbed, and attended by a heat of the skin. The reason of this must be evident to every one who has attended these lectures. The effect of sleep is to accumulate the excitability, or render it more sensible to the effects of any stimulants applied. This takes place in every constitution, and much more in the more delicate: hence the heat of the bed, and of the tea, acts so powerfully on the surface, as, in general, to produce great perspiration, or, at any rate, great languor and debility. Let me ask, can any one, who lives in this manner, expect to enjoy good health? With as great probability might we expect, that when we plunged a thermometer into hot water, the mercury would not rise, or when we applied a lighted match to gunpowder, it would not explode. The laws of nature are constant and uniform, and the same, or similar causes, both in the animate and inanimate world, are always productive of the same, or similar effects.