Homer says,--

"Our dreams descend from Jove."

That is, from the seat of intellect, and declare their import when our

will sleeps. Then are they of weighty and reliable import, yet require

the like suppression of our will to make plain their significance.

Only so is the oracle made reliable. The good alone dream divinely.

Our dreams are characteristic of our waking thoughts and states; we

are never out of character; never quite another, even when fancy seeks

to metamorphose us entirely. The Person is One in all the manifold

phases of the Many through which we transmigrate, and we find ourself

perpetually, because we cannot lose ourself personally in the mazes of

the many. 'Tis the one soul in manifold shapes, ever the old friend of

the mirror in other face, old and new, yet one in endless revolution

and metamorphosis, suggesting a common relationship of forms at their

base, with divergent types as these range wider and farther from their

central archetype, including all concrete forms in nature, each

returning into other, and departing therefrom in endless revolution.[14]

[Footnote 14: The seeming miracle and mystery of the mesmeric, or

clairvoyant vivacity, is best explained by conceiving the instreaming

force of the operator driving the magnetic current from cerebrum to

the cerebellum of his victim, and there, while under the pressure,

reporting the operator's sensations and thoughts through the common

brain of both. And this view is confirmed by the further fact that

under this dominating force the domain of memory is the more deeply

searched, and things revealed which, separate and alone, left unaided

by such agencies, neither could have divined. It is like one's adding

a double brain to his own, and subsidizing it the while to serve his

particular ends.]

"I catch myself philosophizing most eloquently," wrote Thoreau, "when

first returning to consciousness in the night or morning. I make the

truest observations and distinctions then when the will is yet wholly

asleep, and mind works like a machine without friction. I was conscious

of having in my sleep transcended the limits of the individual, and

made observations and carried on conversations which in my waking hours

I can neither recall nor appreciate. As if, in sleep, our individual

fell into the infinite mind, and at the moment of awakening we found

ourselves on the confines of the latter. On awakening, we resume our

enterprise, take up our bodies, and become limited minds again. We

meet and converse with those bodies which we have previously animated.

There is a moment in the dawn when the darkness of the night is

dissipated, and before the exhalations of the day begin to rise, when

we see all things more truly than at any other time. The light is more

trustworthy, since our senses are pure and the atmosphere is less

gross. By afternoon, all objects are seen in mirage."

All men are spiritualists in finer or coarser manners, as temperament

and teaching dictate and determine,--the spiritual world revealing

itself accordingly. Speculation has in all ages delighted itself in

this preternatural realm from whence have risen the ghosts of realties

too unsubstantial and fugitive for ordinary senses to apprehend.

Whatever the facts, they receive interpretation according to the

spirit and intelligence of the believer. The past is full of such

prodigies and phenomena, for whose solution all learning, sacred and

profane, is revived in its turn. It appears that like opinions have

their rounds to run, like theories with their disciples, reappearing

in all great crises of thought, and reaching a fuller solution at each

succeeding period. A faith, were such possible, destitute of an element

of preternaturalism, or of mysticism, pure or mixed, could not gain

general acceptance. Some hold on the invisible connects the known with

unknown, yet leaving the copula to be divined. We define it on our lips

when we pronounce the word Person, and so approach, as near as we may,

to the "I Am" of things.

Unseen our spirits move, are such,

So eager they to clasp, they feel, they touch

While yet our bodies linger, cannot speed

The distance that divides, confines their need.

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