258 THE BEA80N WHY. 



" Watchman, what of the night ? The watchman said, The morning cometh, 

 and also the night : if ye will enquire, enquire ye; return, come." ISAIAH xxi. 



the palpitation, of the heart. But, what is it that causes the heart to beat ? You 

 cannot, if you wish it, make your heart beat more quickly or more slowly. Place 

 your finger upon your pulse, and notice the degree of rapidity with which its 

 pulsations follow. Now think that you should like to double the frequency of 

 those pulsations. Say to the heart, with your inner voice, that you wish it to 

 beat 120 times in a minute, instead of 60. It does not obey you ; it does not 

 appreciate your command. Now place your finger on the table, and ycur watch 

 by the side of your hand, and tell your finger to beat 60 times in the minute, or 

 100 times, or 150 times, or 200 times, and the finger will obey you because it is 

 moved by imtscles which are subject to the will, while the heart is composed of 

 muscles which are not subject to the will. Why should this be? AVhy should 

 man have the power to regulate his finger, and not to regulate his heart ? 



For the sustentatiou of our bodies it is needful that the blood should ever be 

 in circulation. If the heart were to cease beating only for three or four minutes 

 (perhaps less) life would be extinct. In this short time the whole framework of 

 man, beautiful in its proportions, perfect in its parts, would pass into the state 

 of dead matter, and would sim ply wait the decay that follows death. The eye 

 would become dull and glazed, the lips would turn blue, the skin would acquire 

 the coldness of clay love, hope, joy, would all cease. The sweetest, the fondest 

 ties would be broken. Flowers might bloom, and yield their fragrance, but they 

 would be neither seen nor smelt ; the sun might rise in its brightest splendour, 

 yet the eye would not be sensitive to its rays ; the rosy-cheeked child might 

 climb the paternal knee ; but there, stiff, cold, without joy, or pain, or emotion 

 of any kind, unconscious as a block of marble, would sit the man whose heart 

 for a few moments had ceased to beat. 



How wise, then, and how good of God, that he has not placed this vital organ 

 under our own care ! How sudden would be our bereavements how frequent 

 our deaths, how sleepless our nights, and how anxious our days, if we had to 

 keep our own hearts at work, and death the penalty of neglect. 



And yet, before we were born, until we reach life's latest moment 

 through days of toil, and nights of rest -even in the moments of our deepest sin 

 against the God who at the time is sustaining us, our hearts beat on, never 

 stopping, never wearying, never asking rest. 



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 tha^, 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. \Vhile they labour they must be fed that u 



