out certain epochs in the past in which I lived in
other shapes, and I study those epochs, hoping that one day I may find
time to write of them and of the parts I played in them. Some of these
parts are extremely interesting, especially as I am of course able to
contrast them with our modern modes of thought and action.

They do not all come back to me with equal clearness, the earlier
lives being, as one might expect, the more difficult to recover and the
comparatively recent ones the easiest. Also they seem to range over a
vast stretch of time, back indeed to the days of primeval, prehistoric
man. In short, I think the subconscious in some ways resembles the
conscious and natural memory; that which is very far off to it grows dim
and blurred, that which is comparatively close remains clear and sharp,
although of course this rule is not invariable. Moreover there is
foresight as well as memory. At least from time to time I seem to come
in touch with future events and states of society in which I shall have
my share.

I believe some thinkers hold a theory that such conditions as those of
past, present, and future do not in fact exist; that everything already
is, standing like a completed column between earth and heaven; that
the sum is added up, the equation worked out. At times I am tempted to
believe in the truth of this proposition. But if it be true, of course
it remains difficult to obtain a clear view of other parts of the column
than that in which we happen to find ourselves objectively conscious at
any given period, and needless to say impossible to see it from base to
capital.

However this may be, no individual entity pervades all the column.
There are great sections of it with which that entity has nothing to
do, although it always seems to appear again above. I suppose that those
sections which are empty of an individual and his atmosphere represent
the intervals between his lives which he spends in sleep, or in states
of existence with which this world is not concerned, but of such gulfs
of oblivion and states of being I know nothing.

To take a single instance of what I do know: once this spirit of mine,
that now by the workings of destiny for a little while occupies the body
of a fourth-rate auctioneer, and of the editor of a trade journal, dwelt
in that of a Pharaoh of Egypt--never mind which Pharoah. Yes, although
you may laugh and think me mad to say it, for me the legions fought
and thundered; to