Dreams are looked upon by a great many people as disturbers of sleep. This view is hardly just, considering that we spend at least one-third of our lives in sleep, dreaming the greater part or all of this, and being rarely disturbed by dreams of an unpleasant nature. As a matter of fact, we owe a great debt to dreams. We depend upon sleep to refresh us, to keep us fit, yet if our way of thinking were the same by night as by day this would not be possible, since the thinking which characterizes the waking state is directive and fatiguing. Not only do our dreams permit mental and physical recuperation from the wear and tear incident to waking life, but they also give us joy; they aid us in fighting the battle of life. Though the world of reality separates us from our friends, denies us such things as seem necessary for our happiness, in the land of dreams our wishes often come true, and for a time we are really happy. Waking may bring disillusionment, yet we cannot fail to feel better for the respite from the world and its cares, for the journey to the land of "make believe," where things seem real and are real as long as we are its visitors.

Dreams are conservers of sleep. We find a good example of this in the dreams arising from organic wants, as hunger and thirst. Often the want is so great that awakening is caused, but in most instances the want is supplied by means of a dream. The hungry man dreams that he is at a banquet; the thirsty one quaffs liberal draughts of his favourite beverage, and sleep is allowed to continue. Again, persons who are awakened to go to their daily toil often return to sleep and dream that they are at work; the sleeping consciousness even reasons that, since they are at work, there is no need for getting up. This sort of dream may not be profitable in a pecuniary sense, but it demonstrates the effort of dreams to continue sleep. We find another illustration in dreams within dreams. A dream occurs which causes sadness or anxiety, yet the sleeper is not awakened; consciousness reasons, "It's only a dream," and sleep goes on. When we dream following this, it is usually the same dream freed of its disagreeable content. In cases of dreams within dreams, it is well to remember that sometimes the sleeper really awakes, returns to sleep, and believes, on recalling the dream in the morning, that his sleep was not broken during the night. Sometimes, too, dreams within dreams occur during a period of light sleep, in a semi-sleeping, semi-waking stage, where the reasoning of waking life can be partly utilized.

Children often profit materially by their hunger and other dreams. For example, they may dream of eating candy, or of playing with toys, and cry so much on awaking, finding their bliss only imaginary, that their dream images must be made real. One good-sized girl, known to the writer, was actually angry, cried, and threw things about on awaking from a dream in which she possessed many of the world's good things. As regards children, it might be mentioned that one reason for their touching objects in a hesitating, doubtful way is that, having seen these same things in a dream, and finding them gone on awaking, they doubt their existence when actually met with. Vivid dreams are, at times, responsible for the lies of some children. The children may, when awake, persist in saying that they have gone some place, or have been injured by some one. The latter cases are apt to prove more serious, since an innocent person may be accused. If the incident were really a dream, the child may name certain witnesses, and thus the accused's vindication is aided. It is possible, also, for unjust charges to be made against persons of integrity as the result of vivid day-dreams.

Our dreams tend to conserve life. At times they make known to us the presence of a disease unknown to waking consciousness; of these more will be said later. They also tend to protect life by magnifying the sensations which reach sleeping consciousness from external and internal sources. When asleep we are in a poor position for defence, but this is compensated for, since comparatively slight changes in the environment instigate alarming dreams which awaken us. Our dreams, too, help us to keep a good opinion of ourselves; they refer difficulties arising within the body to outside sources. We like to think well of ourselves; to excuse our errors; to blame others rather than ourselves. This tendency, which is probably more frequent in waking life, even when the reasoning and judgment are best, is more or less instinctive. We find it illustrated in savages who whip trees in times of epidemics; we find it among civilized persons when an effort is. made to make a scapegoat out of some person, usually a dead one, for some disaster; we find it in ourselves when we berate a chair over which we have stumbled. The fault is within, but we choose to regard it as coming from without. Our dreams reason similarly; for example, indigestion makes us think we are attacked by some one.

Dreams influence our natures, our conduct, our acts of daily life more than we realize. If they are happy we awake in a good humour, which disposition is apt to remain with us for the remainder of the day. It matters not if, on awaking, we sneer at the nonsense dreamed; we cannot help but feel well disposed toward ourselves and the world in general. If the dream has been unhappy, we are depressed, even if it were "only a dream." Many of the depressed moods, anxieties, vague feelings of unrest which characterize some of our days are occasioned by disturbing dreams which may or may not be remembered. Depressed, tired wakings are often due to the same cause. The food we choose for our tables, the tie or book we select, and many 'other actions which we believe arise consciously are often due to dream influences. This point is well illustrated by a dream given by Seashore:1

"One day I remarked at the dinner table that this is the celery season and that celery is very good this year. It is especially good for children, and I suggested that we have it as frequently as possible. The following, day when I came to the dinner table and saw the celery it came to me like a flash that the reason that I had recommended the celery lay in the fact that, during the previous night, I had dreamed of seeing a farmer driving into town with a hay-rack load of the most luscious celery. Yet, the day before, when I spoke of the celery as being good, I had no special image in mind and did not remember having dreamed about it."