It is assumed in the last sentence that the brain may become so far transformed by sleep that it ceases for the time to be capable of function as the instrument of thought. This conclusion has been questioned by the very highest authorities. Sir William Hamilton, Exner, and many others have instituted numerous experiments to test the possibility of a dreamless sleep. Causing themselves to be suddenly aroused at all hours of the night, they invariably found themselves at the instant of awaking occupied with the course of a dream. Hence it has been inferred that the mind is always alert, even when the body is most thoroughly asleep. In explanation of the fact that consciousness contains after deep sleep no trace of such mental activity, it is claimed that the act of dreaming of which we are aware at the moment of waking is proof of intellectual function during the moments which preceded that incident, and that we are merely forgetful of all similar processes that occurred during undisturbed sleep. The unconsciousness of sleep, according to this theory, is not real--it is only apparent through failure of the memory. If this be true, memory is the only intellectual faculty of whose inaction we can be sure. The period of deep sleep might then be, for all we know to the contrary, a period of the most intense and exalted mental activity. But, if so, it is quite worthless as a constituent of our conscious existence. It may also be objected with equal reason that the dreams which unquestionably occupy the field of consciousness at the instant of waking are probably excited by the impressions which terminate sleep. The process of waking, though often very greatly hurried, is by no means absolutely instantaneous. As we shall learn, the time requisite for the evolution of a dream may be indefinitely brief. Consequently, it seems better in all such instances to assign the period of dreaming to the time of diminishing slumber that corresponds to the disturbance by which sleep was terminated.