Dreams involving exhaustion, last stands, imminent betrayals, and fatal losses of discipline right before critical moments. Also a second dream on the sidelines of that first dream (I was in both but also watching myself in each from another dream level) — a very weird thing to do with nested vials of oil, and having to fish a small vial of fish oil out of a vial of tea tree oil inside a vial of vegetable oil.

“Every attempt, undertaken in a reverential spirit, to facilitate the labours of the inquirer after Scripture truth, deserves especial favour at the hands of those who may have the opportunity of directing public attention to such endeavours.”

Meeting with an octogenarian molecatcher a few weeks since, in the neighbourhood of Bridgwater, the old man volunteered the following account of the origin of moles, or wants as they are sometimes called in Somerset. “It was a proud woman, sir, too proud to live on the face of the earth, and so God turned her into a mole, and made her live under the earth; and that was the first mole.” My informant was evidently much confirmed in his belief, by the fact of “moles having (as he said) hands and feet like Christians.”