Vanity Fair (Condé Nast)/Sleep and How to Do Without It

The other day, in San Francisco, Thomas A. Edison said that the improvement in artificial light was waking up the people in the large cities, but that in the country districts, where only lamps and candles were used, people were still dull and stupid and slept the clock round. He added that where light was, thought was and that he expected that someday man would be able to do altogether without sleep. He spoke (apparently) in ignorance of the work which has already been accomplished. The Rev. J. P. Bullock, fellow of Trinity, a great authority in Buddhistic art, and a member of the Royal Scientific Society, has published numerous studies on this question: “Sleep, Its Cause and Cure,” 1907, Williams Brothers, Liverpool; “Why Should We Waste a Third of Life?” 1909, William Dryden &amp; Co., London; “Sleep, Twin-Brother of Death,” 1910, Bombay Press, Bombay; “Wake and Work,” 1913, Higher Thought Book Co. , Birmingham. It is perhaps worthwhile here to give a short and popular resumé of Dr. Bullock’s theories.

From the scientific point of view, sleep is principally a question of elimination; one might almost dare to say that rest is not necessary to the human body in health; it is the accumulation of poison within it that puts it out of order. The heart needs no rest, because of several elaborate systems which ensure that all poisons are thrown out of the blood immediately. If you deliberately poison the blood, sleep or coma result; or in certain cases, convulsions. All of these may be regarded as more or less desperate efforts to eliminate. Sleep is a symptom of intoxication. It is caused by the poisons accumulated in the brain. We all know that under mental stimulation we can cause the brain to work at high pressure for a long time; the excretion works at a greatly increased rate, and sleep may be postponed indefinitely. (The present writer composed a four-act play continuously as long as 54 hours without rest or food, under the stimulus of a strong dramatic inspiration.) However, a time always arrives sooner or later when all stimulus fails, one must cease to accumulate poison, and allow a period for the body to get rid of it in due course. The next point to consider is this; sleep is not a uniform phenomenon; it is of many qualities. Everyone knows, for example, that now and again one “dozes off” for a few minutes, intolerably sleepy, and wakes entirely refreshed, as if one had spent a long and dreamless night. On the other hand one knows that sometimes, after a good night’s rest under apparently perfect conditions, one wakes exhausted. There is every type of intermediate sleep between these extremes. It therefore occurred to Dr. Bullock, when he was vicar of St. John’s at Manchester, that it might be possible to control these phenomena, to make certain of complete repose, by chemical means. He, therefore, proposed to construct a special chamber provided with apparatus to insure this. The main idea was to introduce definitely soporific vapors, such as carbon dioxide, into the room, so that the patient might immediately fall into the deepest slumber. As soon as this occurs, the carbon dioxide is absorbed by opening troughs of sodium hydrate solution, which are kept in constant and gentle motion by electric stirrers. A supply of pure oxygen is then allowed to flow into the room, and, as the night proceeds, this is reinforced by ozone. There is also a further device for stimulating material chemically treated by certain salts. Another way is to prepare the patient by a very thorough Turkish bath. It must also be made sure that none of the other methods of elimination are working badly, and laxatives and diuretics given, if needs be.

The result of all this is that the patient, who has been very fully asleep, wakes up into equally full and clear consciousness. He wakes, in short, as a healthy boy does. He does not turn over and yawn and try to go to sleep again, but jumps out of bed and makes a beeline for the bath. With this treatment about one and a half to three hours is a full night’s rest for anybody. There is a proposal for establishing places where this treatment can be applied, but naturally it can only be used in cities. When it comes to our own city, we can all test it! In the meantime, this is but a chemical device, and there are other ways of solving the problem.

The Hindus have had their eye on it for a good many centuries. They divide mental states into three main types: sattva, calm wakefulness, contemplation; rajas, mental activity, excitement; tamas, dullness, sleep. The first only is considered proper to the healthy man; in their view rajas is a kind of fever, and tamas a kind of death. One of their reasons for diminishing diet to a minimum is that food always encourages one of the lower “Gunas” as they call these states. However, since one must eat, they have selected certain foods as proper to sattva. This is not altogether a digression, for it was on these lines that Dr. Bullock first attacked the problem in the “Nineteenth Century.” There is a rotation of these Gunas; they follow each other at more or less regular intervals; and if the Tamo-guna is in course, and the man is not asleep, it is due to some interference. It subsequently occurred to Dr. Bullock that he might break up the power of the Tamo-guna altogether. To him, as to Edison, sleep appeared an altogether deplorable waste of time, and, more than this, decidedly harmful. It was a drag on sattva; a breach in the continuity of pure consciousness; an interference with the will and the highest aspirations of man.

He wished to mediate ceaselessly and tirelessly upon the weakness of man, to find a remedy for all evil, and behold! he was himself a slave to the most degrading weakness. Even a few minutes of such intense thought as he, by long assiduity and courage, had developed, were sufficient to dull the keen razor of his mind. For that mind had become exquisitely sensitive to the smallest impression. He was capable of ordinary work of the hardest kind in a measure which few men have ever equalled; but the super-work of meditation requires quite a superhuman power. He recognized the Tamo-guna as the enemy, and proceeded to destroy it. How? We shall now consider.

When he was quite a boy sloth had been his chief enemy. There were reasons of ill-health for this condition, but he nonetheless determined to do better. A friend of his, Bishop Pearsall, of Bath, happened to be a descendant of the Iron Duke; and this friend told him⁠—at Trinity College⁠—that it had been the custom of the great commander to sleep on a narrow plank, so that if he turned over, he fell off. The theory was that unless sleep were so deep as to involve absolute bodily stillness, it was imperfect; any movement whatsoever was conclusive proof that the sleeper had had enough.

Dr. Bullock determined to copy Wellington⁠—a pardonable imitation⁠—and had a plank made eleven inches wide. He proceeded to improve on the idea, however, by screwing a few “mummery spikes” (which are made for the boots of mountain climbers, and give firm hold on ice) into this plank. These nails were necessary, not for any reasons which would appeal to the ascetic, but because the bare board soon became perfectly comfortable to him, so that when he woke there was no immediate pain which might drive him to get up. Upon this thorny couch he still sleeps, night after night when at home, even to this day. This practice soon altered completely the quality of his slumber. It became very light, and yet very restful; he learnt to wake instantly and fully at a moment’s notice; and he soon found that it was equally easy to fall off to sleep again the moment that his will consented. It also cccurred, after a few days, that he found no tendency whatever to sleep during the fourth period of two hours; and the third soon followed suit. However, the result was, at first, boredom; he did not know what to do with the time; but Satan soon found some mischief for his idle hands to do; and by increasing his quota⁠—writing lyrical verse⁠—he quickly remedied his trouble.

He then shortened the periods to one-and-a-half and subsequently to one hour. He ultimately tried half hours, but this did not seem to be much of an improvement on the one-hour bouts, not enough, at least, to make it worthwhile to acquire the habit. In this way he practically conquered the problem. He is 48 years old; he has been a great traveler and explorer; much of his time is taken up by teaching and correspondence; he has achieved the most remarkable feats in many lines of life; yet what he has written for publication alone averages over ten words an hour since the minute he drew breath! Yet no one ever sees him work; he seems to lead the lazy, drawling life of a man of fashion. The secret is that he has learnt to bring his average hours of sleep down to three.

It is a secret well worth knowing. And now that it is disclosed, in part, it is within the reach of everybody to take a few weeks’ pains and master it. The other part of the secret is of course the training of the mind to extreme intensity and concentration; and this, it must be admitted, probably requires a good deal of natural aptitude, and is in any case a harder task. Dr. Bullock has admitted his failure to do it, but it can be done, and the details of how to do it may one day furnish us with material for another paper.