advocated by doctors and moralists, (not, I suspect, without sinister motives on the part of the former,) namely, "early rising," which I never could see the utility of, and which has only to be placed in a proper light to show at once its folly and impropriety.

Let the merits of the case be examined. It is the custom of those who defend this baneful practice to appeal rather to the fancy than the reason, and to sketch a highly romantic and altogether ideal picture of the pleasures of early rural walks, &c. They talk of green fields, purling streams, warbling birds, and healthful breezes, invariably winding up with a florid description of the glories of the rising sun. Now I myself, from dear-bought experience, happen to know something of these matters; for though, with one exception, I have not seen the sun rise for many years, yet in early life, when I thought as a child and acted as a child," I was seduced by empty rhodomontade, to adopt the pernicious practice of early rising, until a heavy cold, caught by roaming about the fields at an unseasonable hour in search of health and mushrooms, settled upon my lungs, and came pretty near making my early rising a prelude to an early grave. But suppose a man up and dressed before the sun, (and here I will not dwell upon the

soft, delicious slumbers that have been broken and frighted away by his harsh and unnatural con

duct,) suppose him up,

dressed, out of the house

and away to the fields. When he gets there, these fields are, to be sure, green enough-rankly green, but he dares not venture into one of them; or if he does, especially should the grass be luxuriant, he might just as well go a bathing with his nether garments on: he dares not pluck a wild flower from the hedge-side, for on approaching he finds that

"Black snails and white,
Blue snails and gray,"

are pursuing their slimy peregrinations in every direction; the birds do not warble at that early hour, but on leaving their warm nests, flit uneasily from bush to bush, shaking their plumage, and twittering in a way certainly not calculated to raise his feelings to any ecstatic pitch. Even the cows, whose slumbers he has disturbed, arise slowly and sullenly from their damp couch, look grimly at the worshipper of nature, and proceed, in a discontented manner, to slake their thirst by nibbling the grass. These discomforts probably rather damp his feelings, and he proceeds forthwith to select a dry spot on the turnpike-road, where he stands, with his

hands in his pocket, gaping at the sun getting up, and fancying himself very much delighted; though everybody knows, that for richness and beauty one sunset is worth a dozen sunrises. After this he makes it a point of duty to walk and lounge about for three or four hours, leaning over some farmer's gate-way watching the chickens, with their eyes half open, picking up stray worms, or the ducks gobbling houseless snails, when he goes home wet and weary, and finds the sensible part of the family enjoying themselves with toast and coffee. As all foolish persons dislike to confess their folly, he proceeds to state that he has had "such a charming walk!" thereby not only sinning his miserable soul before breakfast, and giving the father of lies a decided advantage for the. rest of the day, but inducing other unsuspicious victims to follow his scandalous example.

There is more truth than poetry in this plain statement of the case, which will be found correct nine times out of ten, even in the most favorable season of the year-summer; what then must an early morning's walk be through the chills and drizzle of spring or the substantial fogs of autumn? As for winter, the idea of a man leaving his warm bed, and wading through ice and snow without the prospect of any thing but a frost-bitten nose, is so

abhorrent to the natural and common feelings of humanity, that it may well be doubted whether any one but an hypochondriac or a lunatic could execute or conceive such a measure.

Can any thing be more preposterous than the advice not unfrequently given, to "go to bed with the sun and get up with the sun?" It is clearly contrary to the visible intentions of Providence. Before the sun rises, the night dews lie heavy on field and forest. Nature is drenched: and the sun is kindly sent forth, as it were, to mop up the world, and make the earth dry and comfortable before it is necessary for its tenant, man, to come abroad. With his warm beams he proceeds in the work of exsuction, and draws up all the raw and unhealthy vapors out of our way: and any man who unnecessarily intrudes himself into his presence when thus transacting his morning's business, well deserves what he generally gets, a chilly reception and an inflammation of the lungs. Yet people will punish themselves in this way, and bear it all as if they were suffering in a good cause! If you remonstrate with them on their folly, they will take pen, ink, and paper, and prove to you, by the rules of arithmetic, how many years of active existence a man adds to his natural life by getting up regularly four hours before the rest of his fellow-mortals,

only forgetting to deduct the four hours he loses by going to bed that much sooner, in order to indulge his strange, out-of-the-way propensities.

If a cause is to be judged by its advocates, few, I believe, would stand worse than early rising. You never meet with what is called "a good fellow" among early risers. It is either your old bachelor, who is, to be sure, more excusable than any other class of men; or your morose worldly husband, who prides himself on his domestic virtues, because he sleeps over the fire after supper, and goes to bed at nine o'clock; or your thin, bilious, poetical and dyspeptic youth, who fancies he is an admirer of nature, and therefore comes abroad to see her in her most disagreeable forms, and also to beget an appetite for an extra egg or an additional muffin at breakfast. But the most amusing thing is, the credit such people take to themselves for these departures from the ordinary regulations of society. They invariably narrate the history of their morning exploits to one who loves his bed with an air of conscious rectitude, and with that

"sort of satisfaction,

Men feel when they have done a virtuous action,"

though wherein consists the virtue of one man putting on his clothes three or four hours before ano