THE MEN OF KENT Sometimes I am rewarded for fretting myself so much about present matters by a quite unasked-for pleasant dream.

I mean when I am asleep.

This dream is as it were a present of an architectural peep-show.

I see some beautiful and noble building new made, as it were for the occasion, as clearly as if I were awake; not vaguely or absurdly, as often happens in dreams, but with all the detail clear and reasonable.

Some Elizabethan house with its scrap of earlier fourteenth-century building, and its later degradations of Queen Anne and Silly Billy and Victoria, marring but not destroying it, in an old village once a clearing amid the sandy woodlands of Sussex.