270 STUDIES IN LIFE AND SENSE. 



XIII. 



WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF. 



THAT our existence, in a physiological sense, may be regarded 

 as consisting of alternating periods of activity and repose is 

 an axiom which requires no very deep reflection or research for 

 the demonstration of its truth. The waking hours of the day are 

 succeeded by the resting hours of the night. The work of life is 

 followed naturally by the repose which, in its turn, is equally a part 

 of our normal existence; and there are too many obvious indications 

 that this succession of events is part and parcel of nature at large, 

 to leave room for doubt that sleep and wakefulness are simply the 

 evenly balanced ends of the vital " see-saw." It appears to be a 

 rule of physical life that, even in its most intimate and less apparent 

 phases, an alternation of rest and repose should be constantly exem- 

 plified. The work of life means, of course, the dissipation of energy. 

 The wear and tear inseparable from the mere act of living and being 

 necessitates proportionate repair. This much is contained in the 

 first pages of the scientific primer ; whilst a succeeding and equally 

 primitive study discloses the way of repair in the many processes of 

 nutrition which tend to preserve the form of the individual in its 

 stable aspect by counteracting the inevitable waste of life. 



But there are other processes and functions which seem to contri- 

 bute to the latter end, and amongst them we may legitimately number 

 the influence of rest and repose. It is by no means paradoxical to as- 

 sume that the very act of nutrition or that of bodily repair, involving as 

 it does a large expenditure of energy, is in itself a source of bodily 

 wear and tear. The pulsations of the heart, directly concerned in the 

 distribution through the body of the products of nutrition, represent, 

 apparently, an amount of exertion and work which well-nigh induces 

 the belief that we subsist on a veritable " peau de chagrin," and that 

 even the gains of the body of necessity imply a loss. From the phy- 

 siological side of things, however, there comes a gleam of comfort in 

 the declaration that the nutrition of rest serves to counterbalance the 

 wear and tear involved in the mere fact of existence. In repose is 

 found, we are told, a highly perfect source of bodily repair. And it is 

 further impressed upon us that this cessation from labour may occur 

 in ways and fashions undreamt of by the casual observer of the lives 

 of men. Take as an example the heart itself. Next to the brain, 



