previously observed enclosing-wall, a
low hedge appears in a surprising manner.

Further, we are surprised by instances of knowledge without perception.
Often in a dream one knows something without having experienced it in
person. We simply know, without knowing how, that in such a house
something definite and full of mystery has happened; or we know that this
man, whom we see now for the first time, is called so and so; we are in
some place for the first time but know quite surely that there must be a
fountain behind that wall to which for any reason we have to go, etc. Such
unmediated knowledge occurs several times in the parable. In the beginning
of the narrative the wanderer, although a stranger, knows that the lovely
meadow is called by its inhabitants Pratum felicitatis. He knows
intuitively the name of one of the men unknown to him. In the garden scene
he knows, although he has noticed only the young men, that some young
women (whom on account of the nature of the place he cannot then see) are
desirous of going into the garden to these young men. One might say that
all this is merely a peculiarity of the representation inasmuch as the
author has for convenience, or on account of lack of skill, or for
brevity, left out some connecting link which would have afforded us the
means of acquiring this unexplained knowledge. The likeness to the dream
therefore would in that case be inadmissible. To this objection it may be
replied, that the dream does exactly like the author of the parable. Our
study is chiefly concerned with the product of the fancy and forces us to
the observation (whatever may be the cause of it) that the parable and the
dream life have certain "peculiarities of representation" in common.

In contrast to the miraculous knowledge we find in the dream a peculiar
unsureness in many things, particularly in those which concern the
personality of the wanderer. When the elders inform the wanderer that he
must marry the woman that he has taken, he does not know clearly whether
the matter at all concerns him or not; a remarkable fluctuation in his
attitude takes place. We wonder whether he has taken on the role of the
bridegroom or, quite the reverse, the bridegroom has taken the wanderer's.
We are likewise struck by similar uncertainties, like those during the
walk on top of the wall where the wanderer is followed by some one, of
whom he does not know whether it is a man or a woman. Here belong also
those pa