CHAPTER X.

FALLACIES OF DREAM.

Always and everywhere Superstition has dallied with Dream. The notion

that dreams are sometimes prophetic is still so widely diffused and so

often made the theme for gossip and material for fiction that there are

few, even among the educated, who can wholly divest themselves of the

influence of a startling dream.

Neither evidence nor argument has been adduced to support this claim

of the sleeping mind to prophetic power. There are no natural means by

which _new_ impressions can be conveyed to the mind in sleep, and we have

already seen that in this condition the mind is less, not more, capable

of reasoning out the probabilities of the future.

It will be said, perhaps, that prophecy is not an act of reason but

a gift of inspiration; that the prophet only speaks—his are not the

thoughts uttered. But in what manner is this gift made more easy by

sleep? It _should_ be more active in the waking state. The prophetic

dream is either a creation of the sleeping mind or it is brought into

the sleeping mind by a miracle. It is highly improbable that the mind

should have superior wisdom when in its most imperfect condition. It

is still more improbable that a miracle should be wrought for such a

purpose. Moreover, the information alleged to be imparted thus is always

of something _to come_, while there is no instance of a revelation of

things that have been done in the past and therefore capable of being

tested. A gift to tell what _has been_ would surely be more easy than a

gift to tell what is _to be_. It is strange and suspicious that none are

seers of _the past_.

The widespread notion of prophetic dream is probably based upon a belief,

almost as widely diffused, that in sleep the Soul can and does sometimes

pass out of the body and obtain information by direct impressions

received through its own vastly extended power of perception. It is not

uncommon to hear an assertion, when a place is seen for the first time,

that there is a memory of the same place having been seen before, and

there are some curious reports of cases of this kind that deserve to be

investigated. But many of these apparent marvels may be accounted for

by coincidence or by memories of which the link has been lost. When the

multiplicity of dreams that occur in a lifetime are taken into account,

occasional resemblances of external objects or events to some portions

of former dreams are by no means improbable. The same explanation

applies to many dreams that are supposed to have been prophetic because

something afterwards occurs having some resemblance to the dream. Memory

also has a large share in these recognitions. Memory may exist without

recollection. Thousands of things are stored away in the memory which we

cannot recal even if we try to do so, but which come back to us suddenly,

at unexpected times, for no cause that we can trace although certainly

suggested by something associated with the revived idea. Thus the eye may

well recognise a strange place as having been seen when, in fact, the

memory has unconsciously received some picture of it or of some place

very like it, the existence of which had been forgotten, but which is now

revived by the suggestion of the place itself.

Somnambulism, although commonly supposed to be a phase of sleep, has

really no relationship to it. Its physiological and psychical conditions

are entirely different. There is the aspect of sleep, but nothing more.

The somnambule is not sleeping, for he performs often the work of his

waking life although with certainly closed eyes and probably sealed up

senses. The somnambule has no memory of the doings of either mind or body

during his trance existence. The sleeper is conscious at the time of

dreaming and remembers his dream. As there is Somnambulism without sleep,

so there may be Somnambulism in sleep, and indeed, with a constitutional

tendency to it, the state of sleep is so favourable to the inducement of

the condition of Somnambulism that the one may well lapse into the other.

Nor is “sleep walking” the only exhibition of Somnambulism; it is but one

stage of it. Somnambulism often occurs without action of any limb, for it

is a mental and not a muscular condition. But, inasmuch as the uninformed

spectator notes only the instances of “sleep walking,” the much more

numerous cases of somnambulism occurring with the patient at rest are

unnoticed.

To this cause, then, may many of the reported phenomena of dream be

assigned. It would be beyond the scope of this monograph to treat at any

length of the manifold phenomena of Somnambulism, but some of them will

certainly explain cases of dream apparently not to be accounted for, as

all facts and phenomena may be, if rightly investigated, by reference

to natural causes, without invoking the assistance of the supernatural.

Somnambulism proves the presence of two abnormal mental conditions,

namely, supersensuous perception and mental sympathy. The former is

the name given to a faculty the mind has, under certain conditions, of

perception beyond the range of the senses (whatever the _modus operandi_

may be). The other refers to a special form of sympathy of thoughts

and emotions of one sensitive mind with other minds having a certain

relationship with it.

Many of the authentic cases of cognizance of the distant in dream may

be thus accounted for. The sleeper has lapsed into somnambulism, is

then, in fact, a somnambulist and not a dreamer. Possessing the abnormal

development of the perceptive sense which is so familiar a fact in

natural somnambulism, the mind has perceptions beyond the range of the

senses and is susceptible of sympathies with other minds which the bodily

senses cannot convey.

That such mental conditions exist is proved conclusively by the

numberless cases of natural somnambulism recorded in the medical journals

of all countries and which are indeed familiar to every reader because of

their frequent occurrence in common life.

Dream is not merely a reproduction in new combinations of impressions

made upon the mind unconsciously as well as consciously, forgotten

as well as remembered. The fact must also be taken into account that

in dream mental action is vastly increased and the flow of ideas so

accelerated that if life be measured, as it should be, by the number

of ideas that are presented by the mind, the life of dream is vastly

longer than waking life. If the ideas that would occupy many waking

hours are compressed into a sleep of one hour, the whole dream-life must

have presented to the mind infinitely more ideas than the whole waking

life. The wonder would be if, of this vast multitude, many were not

found to be coincident with events of actual occurrence afterwards. A

further explanation of dreams that appear to convey information from some

external intelligence, or to be prophetic, will be found in this—that

many things impress themselves upon the mind when we are not giving

attention to them and, therefore, unconsciously to ourselves. We thus

lose some of the links of association which, if they had been perceived,

would have shown us the connection between the dream and the incidents to

which the dream related and which, if we had known, would have stripped

the coincidence of its marvellousness. Yet a further explanation will

be found in the exaltation of the mental faculties in dream, which

enables us often to perceive, more clearly than in our waking state,

ideas and chains of ideas and to think about them more correctly than

is practicable in waking life, when the influx of external impressions

represses to some extent the independent action of the mental faculties.

There is a popular belief that in sleep the Soul sometimes quits the

body and personally visits the scenes and persons of the dream which, in

truth, is not all a dream. This is nothing more than a poetical fancy.

There is no evidence of such journeying. The proof of it would be if

the dreamer could tell us of actual occurrences passing elsewhere at

the moment of his dream. There is, indeed, abundant evidence of mental

communion in sleep, suggesting a dream that has relation to that distant

person; but there is no satisfactory evidence of a positive perception

of an event then passing far off. It is remarkable, indeed, that dreams

to which this solution has been applied usually refer to something that

is _to be_, or that _has been_, and not to events actually happening at

the moment and which alone could be positively conclusively proved by

reference to the persons whose sayings and doings are seen, heard and

reported. The same remark applies to this as to prophecies generally.

Why do they not tell us of something that _is doing_ far away, or

something that _has been done_ in the distant past and therefore capable

of verification? Surely the power that could prophesy the future, the

dreaming that foreshadows what _is to be_, could, with vastly more ease,

tell us what has been done or what is being done elsewhere at the moment

of its exercise! Why is so simple a test invariably avoided?

_Sympathetic_ dreams admit of another explanation. Two persons dream

the same dream at the same time. They may be in the same room, in the

same house, or far apart. The two dreams are not always identical in

their details, but the main incident is substantially the same in both.

The instances of this are too many to be accidental coincidences. The

explanation is to be found in that _mental sympathy_ the existence of

which cannot be doubted by any person who investigates psychological

phenomena. The limit to which that sympathy extends is not yet measured.

We know only that it is not bounded by the narrow range of the senses.

Perhaps it is a purely _psychic_ faculty. If it be, we know as yet so

little of the nature and powers of the Soul that it would be vain to

speculate in what manner the operation is performed. But of this we may

be assured, that, whatever the capacity of the Soul when we are waking

and the external world is, as it were, pressing in upon us at all sides

and occupying the whole mind, those powers are vastly extended when the

material mechanism is at rest and the sleepless Soul alone is busy. If

there be, under any conditions, communication between minds without

the intervention of the senses, we may reasonably conclude that these

would be greatly facilitated in the time of sleep, when the Soul is

less subjected to the restraints of that mechanism by means of which it

communicates with the _material_—that is to say, the _molecular_—world in

which the present stage of its evolution is to be passed.

The proofs are many that dreams may be suggested by the influence of

other minds in unconscious communication with the sleeper. If the finger

be placed upon the head where, according to the phrenologists, is the

seat of the mental faculty of mirth, a smile will be seen soon to

steal upon the sleeping face. Touch in like manner the asserted seats

of combativeness or destructiveness, the features assume an aspect

of excitement which will be removed by touching the asserted seat of

benevolence. The explanation of this phenomenon is that the brain thus

excited to action suggests or moulds a dream in accordance with the

emotion thus denoted. This fact has been advanced by the phrenologists as

proof that they have rightly mapped out the brain. But such is not the

necessary conclusion from the fact. It may well be that it is the _mind_,

and not the finger, of the waking operator that directs the mental action

of the unconscious sleeper. The waking _Will_ possibly controls the

sleeping Will. We know that it does so in Somnambulism and it is probable

that it does the like in ordinary sleep.

But, explain it as we may, the fact remains.

Direct suggestion of dream by external causes is less disputable.

So sensitive is the mind in sleep, when relieved from the thronging

impressions of the senses, that impressions so slight as to be wholly

unnoticed in our waking state are doubtless perceptible and operate as

suggestions when we are asleep. A slight touch or sound often serves to

change the entire character and direction of a dream, the mere sound

giving rise to the train of new ideas thus suggested, because it is

uncontrolled by the Will. The surest method of banishing an unpleasant

dream is to turn in the bed. Continuance in the same posture and with

the same pressure of blood within and of the pillow without upon the

same part of the brain seems to preserve the action of the dream, which

is disturbed at once by directing the flow of blood and the pressure to

another part of the brain. If a sleeper is seen to be agitated in his

sleep by painful dream, exhibited in moaning, restlessness and expression

of distress upon the countenance, remedy may be found in gently moving

the head into another position, if the body cannot be moved and it is not

desired to waken.

It is said that musicians are very prone to the composition of music

in dream. It was thus that Tartini wrote the Devil’s Sonata. The most

unmusical are often haunted by scraps of tune that no effort will banish.

Airs are composed in dream which are remembered upon waking. Perhaps

it is not that music is more the subject of dream than other mental

creations, but it is the most capable of being retained by the mind

and expressed after the dream has vanished. My own experience of this

capacity of the dreaming mind has been to myself very surprising; but

perhaps the like may have occurred to others, although not recorded. Some

time ago I dreamed that I was present and heard as well as witnessed the

performance of an entire opera of my own composing. The strange part

of it was that I am not a musician and never composed a bar of music

in my life. I have a bad musical ear and no musical memory. Yet did my

utterly unmusical mind in the dream compose the whole of an opera in two

acts, overture and all, with a full band and half a dozen characters,

each acting his own part, and the stage, the scenery, machinery and

decorations, as perfect as any I have ever beheld and enjoyed at Covent

Garden. Certainly it was not a mere dream of a dream. What other solution

is there than this—and it is sufficiently marvellous—that my mind,

free to act without the incumbering trammels of the sleeping body and

exercising its unfettered faculties far beyond their capacity in waking

life, had made me a musician, a dramatist, an actor, a painter—for all

these that mind was in the invention and performance of that dream?

If that mind or Soul be nothing more than the material form, or a

function of that form, how comes it that it is more active and that its

faculties are more exalted when the body, of which it is said to be a

part, is asleep? If the mind or soul be a part of the body, or, as the

Materialists contend, a mere function of the body, it ought, according to

all known laws of science, to be sleeping with the body, or at least its

activity and capacity ought not to increase in proportion as the activity

and capacity of the body decrease.

I have here used the term “Mind,” because it is familiar to the reader,

and any other name would mislead by the prejudices that attach to

it. But I must be understood as intending by that term the thing,

whatever it be, which, in the Mechanism of Man, directs and controls it

intelligently, whether it be called Soul or Mind, and if it be a distinct

entity, as Psychology contends, or only the product of the material

structure, as the Materialists assert. This, indeed, is the great problem

of this age, to be solved, not by dogmatic assertions, but by scientific

proof.

There are many other Phenomena of Dream of less interest or importance,

the description of which would occupy many pages; but those above will

suffice for the purposes of this monograph.

A monograph on sleep and dream: their physiology and psychology · 第 10 / 11 章