This brings us to another reflection. Our arms get weary, our legs falter from fatigue, the mind itself becomes overtaxed, and all our senses fall to sleep. The eye sees not, the ear is deaf to sound, the sentinels that surround the body, the nerves of touch, are all asleep--you may place your hand upon the brow of the sleeping man, and he feels it not. Yet, unseen, unheard, without perceptible motion, or the slightest jar to mar the rest of the sleeper, the heart beats on, and on, and on. As his sleep deepens, the heart slackens its speed, that his rest may be the more sound. He has slept for eight hours, and the time approaches for his awakening. But is the heart weary--that heart which has toiled through the long and sluggard night? No! The moment the waking sleeper moves his arm, the heart is aware that a motion has been made, that effort and exercise are about to begin. The nerves are all arousing to action; the eyes turn in their sockets, the head moves upon the neck; the sleeper leaves his couch, and the legs are once more called upon to bear the weight of the body. Blood is the food of the eye, the food of the ear, of the foot, the hand, and every member of the frame. While they labour they must be fed--that is the condition of their life, the source of their strength. The heart, therefore, so far from seeking rest, is all fresh and vigorous for the labours of the day, and proceeds to discharge its duty so willingly, that we do not even know of the movements that are going on within us. [Verse: "Awake up, my glory; awake, psaltery and harp: I myself will awake early."--PSALM LVII.] Thus we have seen the difference between the voluntary and the involuntary muscles, and we have perceived the goodness of our Creator in not entrusting to our keeping the controul of an organ so vital to life, as the heart. But the heart is not the only organ which thus works unseen and unfelt. There are the lungs and the muscles of the chest, the stomach, and other parts occupying the abdomen, together with all those muscular filaments which enter into the structure of the coats and valves of the blood-vessels, and which assist to propel the blood through the system. All these are at work at every moment of man's life; and yet, so perfect is this complicated machinery, that we really do not know, except by theory, what is going on within us.