Part 25

“DEAR BROTHER JAMES: Your letters always do us good, and your last was one of your best. Have you heard of the birth of Esther’s second child, at Newark? It was born the sixth of February last, and its parents have named him Aaron Burr, Jr., after his father, the worthy President of the College. I trust the little immortal will grow up to be a good and useful man. But, somehow, a strange presentiment of evil has hung over my mind of late, and I can hardly rid myself of the impression that that child was born to see trouble.

“You know I don’t believe in dreams and visions; but lately I had a sad night of broken sleep, in which the future career of that boy seemed to pass before me. He first appeared as a little child, just beginning to ascend a high hill. Not long after he set out, the two guides who started with him disappeared one after the other. He went on alone, and as the road was open and plain, and as friends met him at every turn, he got along very well. At times he took on the air and bearing of a soldier, and then of a statesman, assuming to lead and control others. As he neared the top of the hill, the way grew more steep and difficult, and his companions became alienated from him, refusing to help him or be led by him. Baffled in his designs, and angered at his ill-success, he began to lay about him with violence, leading some astray, and pulling down others at every attempt to rise. Soon he himself began to slip and slide down the rough and perilous sides of the hill; now regaining his foothold for a little, then losing it again, until at length he stumbled and fell headlong down, down, into a black and yawning gulf at the base!

“At this, I woke in distress, and was glad enough to find it was only a dream. Now, you may make as much or as little of this as you please. I think the disturbed state of our country, along with my own indifferent health, must have occasioned it. A letter from his mother, to-day, assures me that her little Aaron is a lively, prattlesome fellow, filling his parents’ hearts with joy.

“Your loving sister, “SARAH.”

Though “only a dream,” this vision of the night prefigured a sad reality, for within two years both of the “guides” had gone, President Burr in September, 1757, his wife in the same month of the next year, 1758.

Passing now down to our own day, the Rev. Walter Colton, sometime alcalde of Monterey, tells us, in his reminiscences of the gold excitement of 1849, that he dreamed of finding gold at a certain spot, had faith enough in his dream to seek for it in that place, and was rewarded by finding it there.

A mass of similar testimony might be adduced. One piece coming from a brave soldier, who will not be accused of harboring womanish fears, will bear repeating here. We again quote from that most interesting volume, “Forty-one Years in India.” Lord Roberts, its author, is speaking of his father, then a man close upon seventy.

“Shortly before his departure an incident occurred which I will relate for the benefit of psychological students; they may perhaps be able to explain it, I never could. My father had some time before issued invitations for a dance which was to take place in two days’ time,--on Monday, the 17th October, 1853. On the Saturday morning he appeared disturbed and unhappy, and during breakfast was despondent--very different from his usual bright and cheery self. On my questioning him as to the cause, he told me he had had an unpleasant dream--one which he had dreamt several times before, and which had always been followed by the death of a near relation. As the day advanced, in spite of my efforts to cheer him, he became more and more depressed, and even said he should like to put off the dance. I dissuaded him from taking this step for the time being; but that night he had the same dream again, and the next morning he insisted on the dance being postponed. It seemed rather absurd to disappoint our friends on account of a dream; there was, however, nothing for it but to carry out my father’s wishes, and intimation was accordingly sent to the invited guests. The following morning the post brought news of the sudden death of a half-sister at Lahore, with whom I had stayed on my way to Pashawar.”

A man is now living who ran away from the vessel in which he had shipped as a sailor before the mast, in consequence of dreaming for three nights in succession that the vessel would be lost. All the circumstances were related to me, with much minuteness of detail, by persons quite familiar with them at the time of their occurrence. The vessel was, in fact, cast away, and every one on board drowned, on the very night after she sailed; consequently the warning dream, by means of which the deserter’s life was saved, could hardly fail of leaving a deep and lasting impression upon the minds of all who knew the facts. The story has been told more at length elsewhere by the writer, as it came from the lips of a seafaring friend; and the hero of it is still pointed out to sceptics as a living example of the fact that--

“Coming events cast their shadows before.”

Richard Mansfield, distinguished actor and playwright, has recently related in an interview a most interesting incident in his own career, which he declared himself wholly unable to account for. So much more credit attaches to the testimony of persons if known to the public even by name, that Mr. Mansfield’s experience has special value here. It is also a highly interesting fragment of autobiography.

Mr. Mansfield goes on to say that after leading a most precarious existence, in various ways, his discharge from Mr. D’Oyley Carte’s company brought on a crisis in his affairs. Reaching his poor lodgings in London, he soon fell into desperate straits, being soon forced to pawn what little he had for the means to keep body and soul together. He declares that he did not know which way to turn, and that the most gloomy forebodings overwhelmed him. We will now let him tell his own story in his own way:--

“This was the condition of affairs when the strange happening to which I have referred befell me. Retiring for the night in a perfectly hopeless frame of mind, I fell into a troubled sleep and dreamed dreams. Finally, toward morning, this apparent fantasy came to me. I seemed in my disturbed sleep to hear a cab drive up to the door as if in a great hurry. There was a knock, and in my dream I opened the door and found D’Oyley Carte’s yellow-haired secretary standing outside. He exclaimed:--

“‘Can you pack up and catch the train in ten minutes to rejoin the company?’

“‘I can,’ was the dreamland reply; there seemed to be a rushing about while I swept a few things into my bag; then the cab door was slammed, and we were off to the station.

“This was all a dream,” continued Mr. Mansfield; “but here is the inexplicable denouement. The dream was so vivid and startling that I immediately awoke with a strange, uncanny sensation, and sprang to my feet. It was six o’clock, and only bare and gloomy surroundings met my eye. On a chair rested my travelling bag, and through some impulse which I could not explain at the time and cannot account for now I picked it up and hurriedly swept into it the few articles that had escaped the pawnshop. It did not take me long to complete my toilet, and then I sat down to think.

“Presently, when I had reached the extreme point of dejection, a cab rattled up, there was a knock, and I opened the door. There stood D’Oyley Carte’s secretary, just as I saw him in my dreams. He seemed to be in a great flurry, and cried out:--

“‘Can you pack up and reach the station in ten minutes to rejoin the company?’

“‘I can,’ said I, calmly, pointing to my bag. ‘It is all ready, for I was expecting you.’

“The man was a little startled by this seemingly strange remark, but bundled me into the cab without further ado, and we hurried away to the station exactly in accord with my dream. That was the beginning of a long engagement, and, although I have known hard times since, it was the turning-point in my career. I have already said that I have no theories whatever in regard to the matter. I do not account for it. It is enough for me to know that I dreamed certain things which were presently realized in the exact order of the dream. Having no superstitions, it is impossible to philosophize over the occurrence. All I know is that everything happened just as I have stated it.”

Some of the hidden meanings attributed to dreams are elsewhere referred to. As the subject has a literature of its own, we need mention only a few of the more commonly accepted interpretations. Their name is legion.

To dream of a white horse is a certain presage of a death in the family.

To dream of a funeral is a sign that you will soon attend a wedding.

To dream of losing one’s teeth is ominous of some coming sorrow.

To dream of a snake is a token that you have an enemy.

Touching a dead body will prevent dreaming of it.

The same dream, occurring three nights in succession, will surely come to pass.

A slice of wedding-cake put under the pillow will cause an unmarried woman to dream of her future husband.