DREAMS/PART 5
Chapter 5
DREAMS
(i) THE TRUE VISION
This, which cannot properly be
classified as a dream at all, is a case where the ego either sees for himself
some fact upon a higher plane of nature, or else has it impressed upon him by a
more advanced entity; at any rate he is made aware of some fact which it is
important for him to know, or perhaps sees some glorious and ennobling vision
which encourages and strengthens him. Happy is the man to whom such vision
comes with sufficient clearness to make its way through all obstacles and fix
itself firmly in his waking memory.
(ii) THE PROPHETIC DREAM
This also we must attribute
exclusively to the action of the ego, who either foresees for himself or is
told of some future event for which he wishes to prepare his lower
consciousness. This may be of any degree of clearness and accuracy, according
to the power of the ego to assimilate it himself and, having done so, to
impress it upon his waking brain.
Sometimes the event is one of serious
moment, such as death or disaster, so that the motive of the ego in
endeavouring to impress it is obvious. On other occasions, however, the fact
foretold is apparently unimportant, and it is difficult for us to comprehend
why the ego should take any trouble about it. Of course it is always possible
that in such a case the fact remembered may be only a trifling detail of some
far larger vision, the rest of which has not come through to the physical
brain.
Often the prophecy is evidently
intended as a warning, and instances are not wanting in which that warning has
been taken, and so the dreamer has been saved from injury or death. In most
cases the hint is neglected, or its true signification not understood until the
fulfillment comes. In others an attempt is made to act upon the suggestion, but
nevertheless circumstances over which the dreamer has no control bring him in
spite of himself into the position foretold.
Stories of such prophetic dreams are
so common that the reader may easily find some in almost any of the books on
such subjects. I quote a recent example from Mr W.T. Stead's "Real Ghost
Stories" (p. 77).
The hero of the tale was a blacksmith
at a manufacturing mill, which was driven by a water-wheel. He knew the wheel
to be out of repair, and one night he dreamed that at the close of the next
day's work the manager detained him to repair it, that his foot slipped and
became entangled between the two wheels, and was injured and afterwards
amputated. He told his wife the dream in the morning, and made up his mind to
be out of the way that evening if he was wanted to repair the wheel.
During the day the manager announced
that the wheel must be repaired when the workpeople left that evening, but the
blacksmith determined to make himself scarce before the hour arrived. He fled
to a wood in the vicinity, and thought to hide himself there in its recesses.
He came to a spot where lay some timber which belonged to the mill, and
detected a lad stealing some pieces of wood from the heap. On this he pursued
him in order to rescue the stolen property, and became so excited that he
forgot all about his resolution, and ere he was aware of it, found himself back
at the mill just as the workmen were being dismissed.
He could not escape notice, and as he
was principal smith he had to go upon the wheel, but he resolved to be
unusually careful. In spite of all his care, however, his foot slipped and got
entangled between the two wheels, just as he had dreamed. It was crushed so
badly that he had to be carried to the Bradford Infirmary, where the leg was
amputated above the knee; so the prophetic dream was fulfilled throughout.
(iii) THE SYMBOLICAL DREAM
This, too, is the work of the ego,
and, indeed, it might almost be defined as a less successful variant of the
preceding class, for it is, after all, an imperfectly translated effort on his
part to convey information as to the future.
A good example of this kind of dream
was described by Sir Noel Paton in a letter to Mrs Crowe, published by the
latter in "The Night Side of Nature" (p. 54). The great artist
writes:
"That dream of my mother's was
as follows. She stood in a long, dark, empty gallery; on one side was my
father, on the other my eldest sister, then myself and. the rest of the family
according to their ages. ... We all stood silent and motionless. At last it
entered — the unimagined something that, casting its grim shadow before, h^d
enveloped all the trivialities of the preceding dream in the stifling
atmosphere of terror. It entered, stealthily descending the three steps that
led from the entrance down into the chamber of horror; and my mother felt that
it was Death.
He carried on his shoulder a heavy
axe, and had come, she thought, to destroy all her little ones at one fell
swoop. On the entrance of the shape my sister Alexes leapt out of the rank,
interposing herself between him and my mother. He raised his axe and aimed a
blow at my sister Catherine — a blow which, to her horror, my mother could not
intercept, though she had snatched up a three-legged stool for that purpose.
She could not, she felt, fling the stool at the figure without destroying
Alexes, who kept shooting out and in between her and the ghastly thing ....
Down came the axe, and poor Catherine
fell. ... Again the axe was lifted by the inexorable shape over the head of my
brother, who stood next in the line, but now Alexes had disappeared somewhere
behind the ghastly visitant, and with a scream my mother flung the stool at his
head. He vanished and she awoke. ...
Three months had elapsed when we
children were all of us seized with scarlet fever. My sister Catherine, died
almost immediately — sacrificed, as my mother in her misery thought, to her (my
mother's) over-anxiety for Alexes, whose danger seemed more imminent. The dream
prophecy was in part fulfilled.
I also was at death's door — given up
by the doctors, but not by my mother; she was confident of my recovery. But for
my brother, who was scarcely considered in danger at all, but over whose head
she had seen the visionary axe impending, her fears were great; for she could
not recollect whether the blow had or had not descended when the spectre
vanished. My brother recovered, but relapsed and barely escaped with life; but
Alexes did not. For a year and ten months the poor child lingered ... and I
held her little hand as she died. ... Thus the dream was fulfilled."
It is very curious to notice here how
accurately the details of the symbolism work themselves out, even to the
supposed sacrifice of Catherine for the sake of Alexes, and the difference in
the manner of their deaths.
(iv) THE VIVID AND CONNECTED DREAM
This is sometimes a remembrance, more
or less accurate of a real astral experience which has occurred to the ego
while wandering away from his sleeping physical body; more frequently, perhaps,
it is the dramatization by that ego either of the impression produced by some
trifling physical sound or touch, or of some casual idea which happens to
strike him.
Examples of this latter kind have
already been given, and there are many to be found of the former also. We may
take as an instance an anecdote quoted by Mr Andrew Lang, in "Dreams and
Ghosts" (p. 35), from the distinguished French physician Dr Brierre de
Boismont, who describes it as occurring within his own intimate knowledge.
"Miss C., a lady of excellent
sense, lived before her marriage in the house of her uncle D., a celebrated
physician and member of the Institute. Her mother at this time was seriously
ill in the country. One night the girl dreamed that she saw her mother, pale
and dying, and especially grieved at the absence of two of her children — one a
cure in Spain, and the other (herself) in Paris.
Next she heard her own Christian name
called, "Charlotte!" and in her dream saw the people about her mother
bring in her own little niece and godchild Charlotte from the next room. The
patient intimated by a sign that she did not want this Charlotte, but her daughter
in Paris. She displayed the deepest regret; her countenance changed, she fell
back and died.
Next day the melancholy of Miss C.,
attracted the attention of her uncle. She told him her dream, and he admitted
that her mother was dead. Some months later, when her uncle was absent, she
arranged his papers, which he did not like anyone to touch. Among these was a
letter containing the story of her mother's death and giving all the details of
her own dream, which D. had kept concealed lest they should impress her too
painfully."
Sometimes the clairvoyant dream
refers to a matter of much less importance than a death, as in the following
case, which is given by Dr F.G. Lee in "Glimpses in the Twilight" (p.
108). A mother dreams that she sees her son on a boat of strange shape,
standing at the foot of a ladder which leads to an upper deck. He looks
extremely pale and worn, and says to her earnestly, 'Mother, I have nowhere to
sleep.' In due course a letter arrives from the son, in which he encloses a
sketch of the curious boat, showing the ladder leading to the upper deck; he
also explained that on a certain day (that of his mother's dream) a storm
nearly wrecked their boat and hopelessly soaked his bed, and the account ends
with the words, `I had nowhere to sleep.'
It is quite clear that in both these
cases the dreamers, drawn by thoughts of love or anxiety, had really travelled
in the astral body during sleep to those in whose fate they were so keenly
interested, and simply witnessed the various occurrences as they took place.
(v) THE CONFUSED DREAM
This, which is by far the commonest
of all, may be caused, as has already been pointed out, in various ways. It may
be simply a more or less perfect recollection of a series of the disconnected
pictures and impossible transformations produced by the senseless automatic
action of the lower physical brain; it may be a reproduction of the stream of
casual thought which has been pouring through the etheric part of the brain; if
sensual images of any kind enter into it, it is due to the ever-restless tide
of earthly desire, probably stimulated by some unholy influence of the astral
world; it may be due to an imperfect attempt at dramatization on the part of an
undeveloped ego; or it may be (and most often is) due to an inextricable
mingling of several or all of these influences. The way in which such mingling
takes place will perhaps be made clearer by a short account of some of the
experiments on the dream state recently made by the London Lodge of the
Theosophical Society, with the aid of some clairvoyant investigators among its
members.
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