That would be an explanation, but nothing seems quite to hold in regard
to dreams. If it is true, why should the dreamer's state so much oftener
be imbued with evil than with good? It might be answered that the evil
forces are much more positive and aggressive than the good; or that the
love of the dreamer, which is his life, being mainly evil, invites the
wicked spirits oftener. But that is a point which I would rather leave
each dreamer to settle for himself. The greater number of everyone's
dreams, like the romantic novel, I fancy, concern incident rather than
character, and I am not sure, after all, that the dream which convicts
the dreamer of an essential baseness is commoner than the dream that
tells in his favor morally.
I daresay every reader of this book has had dreams so amusing that he
has wakened himself from them by laughing, and then not found them so
very funny, or perhaps not been able to recall them at all. I have had
at least one of this sort, remarkable for other reasons, which remains
perfect in my mind, though it is now some ten years old. One of the
children had been exposed to a very remote chance of scarlet-fever at
the house of a friend, and had been duly scolded for the risk, which was
then quite forgotten. I dreamed that this friend, however, was giving a
ladies' lunch, at which I was unaccountably and invisibly present, and
the talk began to run upon the scarlet-fever cases in her family. She
said that after the last she had fumigated the whole house for
seventy-two hours (the period seemed very significant and important in
my dream), and had burned everything she could lay her hands on.
"And what did the nurse burn?" asked one of the other ladies.
The hostess began to laugh. "The nurse didn't burn a thing!"
Then all the rest burst out laughing at the joke, and the laughter woke
me, to see the boy sitting up in his bed and hear him saying: "Oh, I am
so sick!"
It was the nausea which announces scarlet-fever, and for six weeks after
that we were in quarantine. Very likely the fear of the contagion had
been in my nether mind all the time, but, so far as consciousness could
testify of it, I had wholly forgotten it.
VI
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