If the Delicate, and the nervous, the very Young, or the very Old--sit up beyond their usual hour, they feel the want of artificial aid, to raise their spirits to what is no more than the ordinary pitch of those who are in the vigour of their Life--and must fly from the festive board--or purchase a few hours of hilarity at the heavy price of Head-Ach and Dyspepsia for many days after; and a terrible exasperation of any Chronic Complaint they are afflicted with. When the Body and Mind are both craving repose--to force their action, by the spur of spirituous stimulus, is the most extravagant waste of the "VIS VITÆ," that Fashion ever invented to consume her foolish Votaries--for Fools they certainly are, who mortgage the comfort of a Week, for the conviviality of an Hour--with the certainty of their term of Life being speedily foreclosed by Gout, Palsy, &c. Among the most distressing miseries of this "Elysium of Bricks and Mortar," may be reckoned how rarely we enjoy "the sweets of a Slumber unbroke." Sound passes through the thin PARTY WALLS of modern Houses, (_which of the first rate, at the_ FIRE PLACE, _are only four inches in thickness_;) with most unfortunate facility; this is really an evil of the first magnitude,--if You are so unlucky as to have for next door neighbours--fashionable folks who turn night into day, or such as delight in the sublime Economy of Cindersaving, or Cobweb catching,--it is in vain to seek repose, before the former has indulged in the Evening's recreation of raking out the Fire, and has played with the Poker till it has made all the red coals black; or, after _Molidusta_, the Tidy One, has awoke the Morn--with "the Broom, the bonny, bonny Broom." A determined Dusthunter, or Cindersaver, murders its neighbour's sleep--with as little mercy, as Macbeth did Malcolm's--and bangs doors, and rattles Window shutters, till the "Earth trembles, and Air is aghast!" All attempts to conciliate a Savage who is in this fancy--will be labour in vain--the arrangement of its fire[29] is equally the occupation of the morning, and the amusement of the evening; the preservation of a Cinder and the destruction of a Cobweb, are the main business of its existence:--the best advice we can give you, gentle Reader--is to send it this little Book--and beseech it to place the following pages opposite to its Optic nerves some morning--after you have diverted it from Sleep every half hour during the preceding Night[30].