been fully justified, presuming that some friend in the
beyond was forecasting the coming events of the war. I
have still a hope, however, that more was meant, and
that some crowning victory of the Allies at this spot
may justify still further the strange way in which the
name was conveyed to my mind.

People may well cry out against this theory of
sleep on the grounds that all the grotesque, monstrous
and objectionable dreams which plague us cannot
possibly come from a high source. On this point I have
a very definite theory, which may perhaps be worthy of
discussion. I consider that there are two forms of
dreams, and only two, the experiences of the released
spirit, and the confused action of the lower faculties
which remain in the body when the spirit is absent.
The former is rare and beautiful, for the memory of it
fails us. The latter are common and varied, but
usually fantastic or ignoble. By noting what is absent
in the lower dreams one can tell what the missing
qualities are, and so judge what part of us goes to
make up the spirit. Thus in these dreams humour is
wanting, since we see things which strike us afterwards
as ludicrous, and are not amused. The sense of
proportion and of judgment and of aspiration is all
gone. In short, the higher is palpably gone, and the
lower, the sense of fear, of sensual impression, of
self-preservation, is functioning all the more vividly
because it is relieved from the higher control.