The editor of "Blackwood" gives authenticity to the following dream:--A young man, engaged in a china manufactory at Swansea, about the beginning of the last century, dreamed that he saw a man drowning in one of their pools; he dreamed the same a second time, and a third time, and then could not resist making an effort to rise and satisfy himself that it was not so. He did rise, went to the spot, and found the man drowned. A man in the neighbourhood of Newcastle Emlyn, dreamed a similar dream in the 18th century. The late Rev. J. E. Jenkins, Rector of Vaynor, in Breconshire, in his interesting book on that parish gives the following account of a girl saved by a dream:-- "The Rev. Williams Jones, afterwards Canon Jones, was curate in sole charge here in 1822, and for many years afterwards. The Old Rectory House and the Glebe land was at that time occupied by a man named Enos Davies and his family. The Rev. W. Jones also had rooms at the Rectory. "One morning at the end of May in that year, about two o'clock Enos had a remarkable dream. He dreamt the Church was on fire. He suddenly awoke, and in great excitement jumped out of bed and knocked at the bedroom door of Mr. Jones, and cried:--'Master! Master! come down at once, I have dreamt the Church is on fire.' The worthy divine laughed at him, and told him to go back to bed, and not to give heed to foolish dreams and nightly visions. Enos obeyed, but could not sleep. During the day Mr. Jones walked down to the Church, and found everything in the usual order, safe and uninjured. The following morning, at the same hour, strange to say, Enos had the same dream, and again disturbed the peaceful slumbers of his good master. 'Come down to Church, Master,' said he, 'there must be something wrong, I have again dreamt the Church is on fire.' 'All right Enos,' said Mr. Jones; 'I will come with you, it is a fine morning.' By the time they reached the Church it was half-past three. Coming-down the Lych Gate, which was close by the little brook--the old entrance--they were struck with a great awe and a terrified feeling came over them, for they heard a peculiar sound coming, as it were, from the direction of the Church. They stood, listened, and looked at each other in mute astonishment, and Enos's hair stood on end. The sound became plainer: it was like the sound of a sexton digging or opening a grave inside the Church, as was often the custom in those days. Enos trembled, and became as pale as death; whilst the clergyman, who was a tall strongly built man, entered the churchyard, and stealthily went to listen at the west door. He could distinctly hear a man digging a grave. Mr. Jones soon found that an entrance had been made into the Church through one of the north side windows. Re-tracing his steps to Enos, who was still standing on the road by the brook, his attention was directed to a young girl coming down the steep pathway over Cae Burdudd--'the field of carnage'--the field where the mound is.