In such a dream as this, we are aware of two streams of consciousness, both part of ourselves. It seems as though two factors of a dual consciousness were both actively present, and as though for the moment we were conscious of two "selves," a dream "self" and a normal "self," which when we sleep is subconscious to the dream mind, which seeks to interfere and to bring in will-power to control, and reason to guide, the dream imagination.

I suppose that whenever the formula for stopping or changing a dream is made use of, some such interference with the operation of the dream mind really takes place, and that this interference is the secret of dream control.

There are often moments in the transition time between waking and sleeping when we may become suddenly aware that both the normal mind and the dream mind are at work simultaneously.1 But in these moments in the borderland state the two operate independently. Two strains of thought cross each other, we may become aware of both, but they move on separate lines. When, however, the border-line of sleep has been crossed, it is different. When the normal mind, by whatever name we designate this primary self, enters the province that belongs to the dream mind and interferes in it (as it appears at times to do), it seems to act co-operatively, bringing suggestions from without, and importing memories, knowledge of facts, and trains of reasoning, to supplement the imperfect argument and reasoning of the dream. The reasoning thus supplied appears to us in our dreams to come from outside ourselves and to be the more remarkable and convincing. It is only in a few dreams, such as that which has been quoted above, that we are conscious of our dual capacity, and are aware that we are taking the parts both of the "dreamer" and of the other actor; both being, in fact, our very selves. In most dreams I imagine that a similar process is carried out, but without our being aware of it.

In the dreams which centre round the Guide, I am never conscious of this division of personality. The Guide does not seem to be myself, but neither do his moral sense and outlook appear to be essentially different from those which are mine by day or those which I aspire to. Although in my dreams I feel him to be possessed of gifts of wisdom belonging to a higher plane than my own, there is fundamental harmony between his ideas and my own waking thoughts. Again, when I analyse the knowledge that he imparts in dreams I see that it comes from sources which are at my command by day, though he often recalls things to my memory which I have totally forgotten. He seems to me always to be more imaginative than myself, and often suggests a train of thought or literary allusion that I have difficulty in tracing.

1 Cf. Chapter XII, "Borderland State".

To give an illustration of the part that the Guide takes in certain dreams I have given here two notes of such dreams. In the first of these the Guide seemed to me in the dream to be a divine messenger. It is one of the few dreams in which I have not taken his presence for granted, and in which I have questioned his origin and the source of his authority. In this dream "I was in a very broad street leading down to the Thames Embankment and was looking out at the river and sky beyond. The Guide was standing just behind me; our hearts were filled with anxiety for the country because of the war, and we were watching there to see what was about to happen. As I watched, I saw on the roadway and tramlines of the Embankment a number of open military wagons coming up filled with men, and gazing at them, I saw to my horror that they were not our own khaki-clad men, but strange soldiers dressed in black with a touch of red on their helmets. 'They are Austrians or Germans,' I exclaimed, and, with the thought that the enemy was here, the bitterness of despair seemed to overwhelm me; all that French women were feeling and suffering would now, I thought, be felt and suffered by ourselves, but the Guide, speaking very low, almost in a whisper, bade me take comfort and look again. 'These are not Germans or Austrians,' he said, 'but soldiers of the Allies; and see, in the wagons behind them there are English soldiers!'

"The relief was so great that the tears ran down my face, and I stooped down and kissed the English earth. 'But the enemy must be very near,' I thought, 'or all these troops would not be here to defend London,' and for the first time in my life, I, who have always been so glad and thankful for my womanhood, felt that it was hard to have been born a woman - unable to defend my country for which such a passion of love had sprung up in my heart. ' Oh, why was I not made a man, so that I could have been a soldier now!' I cried, and the Guide an-swered, 'Is that very grateful to Me - you who have borne four sons to serve England - are you not ungrateful ?' And I knew that indeed he was right. And then a question about the Guide himself flashed through my mind. 'Who are you,' I thought. 'Are you my father that you speak like this - are you God who made me? Are you a Spirit? Who are you?' I thought the Guide laughed very gently, and I turned round quickly, but there was no one there that I could see. 'Oh, where are you? I cried, for a sort of panic seized me that he had altogether gone, or that he might be hurt in the strife that I thought was surely coming. 'Oh, come!' I called,'out of this broad street, where there may be fighting soon - it isn't safe here!' and then in a moment it struck me what a comedy it was that I should be so distressed, and in such great fear for the Guide's safety and not for my own, knowing as I did in my heart that he was one whom the enemy had no power to harm at all.

"I stood alone now in the wide empty road, and looked at the tall houses on either side of it. The people living in these houses had clambered out on to the roofs to look at the troops, and to see what would happen. One man seemed to be waving his arms. I thought he might be a spy - or at any rate that he and others ran a great chance of being treated as such - so I called to them as loudly as I could to leave their roofs and go into safety; warning them that if they appeared to be signalling to the enemy, they would be in the gravest danger. I shouted to them, and I persuaded them to go indoors, but I could not help laughing as I watched one stout woman making her way with difficulty back into safety through her attic window. I turned then into a narrow side street, and passed through an archway into one of the houses".