It became a delightful dream of adventure, since the element of fear had gone from it.

1 A dream which probably haunted and broke the rest of numberless women during the years between 1914 and 1919 was one in which ill news came to us by telegram of husband or of sons at the front. Like other mothers, I suffered anguish from such a dream, until I learnt how to master it by this formula. It would be difficult to express how great was the relief when I knew that I could lie down to sleep free from this particular dread.

This question of our power of control over our dreams becomes a practical one, and of serious importance, when we realise how closely it touches the health and happiness of our children; for the evil dreams that oppressed Charles Lamb's sensitive childhood are unhappily shared in more or less degree by many children, and are too often the cause of anguish to them. It would be a great gain if those who suffer thus could be helped to understand the nature of their troubles and to become to some extent the masters of their dreams.

It is useless to try to protect the children we love from this particular misery by keeping away from them all impressions that seem to us likely to produce bad dreams; for from the most harmless things in the world, from the picture of a friendly farmyard on the nursery wall, the child's dream imagination will fashion its own fear, and create for itself a thing of horror. We know from Lamb's account how the hated picture of the raising of Samuel gave to his midnight terrors "the shape and manner of their visitation": ". . . had I never met with the picture, the fears would have come self-pictured in some shape or other. . . . 'Headless bear, black man, or ape' . . . but as it was, my imagination took that form".

Charles Lamb understood only too well how intangible these night-fears of childhood are; how often the dread is spiritual in its nature, "remote from fear of bodily injury to ourselves . . . strong in proportion as it is objectless on earth." And this dread has to be borne alone, since it is generally unconfessed and unshared. A child's silence about his bad dreams adds to the power that they have to make him suffer. He may be willing to speak of his good dreams, but he is often ashamed to say anything about the night-terror that oppresses him. He is checked by the mere possibility that the fears that are so real to him, but that he can hardly put into words, will be met with a smile; and so he does not venture to speak of things that by day he knows will seem absurd, but which nevertheless have power to torture him inexpressibly when night falls. Now if a child is to be helped at all in this matter there must first of all be deeply rooted in his heart an absolute confidence that he will not be laughed at. The child's confidence in his mother about his dreams would be no bad criterion of his trust in her understanding and sympathy. If his confidence has been once gained, how can he be helped to master his night-fears? Many people will say that there is nothing that can be done.

I believe, on the contrary, that in the early years of childhood most of us could easily be taught simple methods of control, such as those that I have described, which would be effective in stopping this misery. If a child once knows that he is not defenceless, and that he possesses in his own will-power a real and efficient weapon against his bad dreams, he will assuredly learn how to use it. You give him hope, and you take away from him the paralysing sense of helplessness that is almost the worst part of the trouble.

One of the processes by which this control can be obtained has been described. The form of words to be taught or suggested to a child for its use should, of course, be as short and as simple as possible. It may be, if you will, in some such words as, "This is only a dream - it must stop," or any other similar formula. Whatever words are to be used, they must be repeated very often, especially on going to bed, until they are so familiar that when the bad dream occurs the formula will automatically flash into the dream mind at the same time. In my experience this will soon suffice to put a stop to it. The method of dream control will be most easily imparted to a child in the form of a story about other children and their dreams.1 If the theory about dreams is true, which is described in this book, and on which I have acted for many years, namely that by thinking about our dreams we can influence them and can definitely alter their character, a child's dream life might be greatly and happily modified in this way. Whatever talents for delightful dreaming he may possess will be encouraged, and he will learn to enjoy this good gift without the fear that now too often spoils the anticipation of dreaming - the fear of evil dreams.

There are, of course, many other kinds of bad dreams, apart from these night-fears of childhood and other "fear dreams." The rest of one sleeper is broken by vivid imaginings of loss or estrangement, whilst another describes the strange sense of fathomless despair that he experiences and dreads. We know from medieval literature that many dreams used to be regarded as directly sent by the Enemy of mankind. Dreams of evil and dreams of desire, that were natural but unlawful to the recluse, no doubt often assailed the hermit or the inmates of the cloister, their life of stern repression leaving them more helplessly at the mercy of such troublous dreams than others are.2 In the "Form of Living," written by Richard the Hermit for the guidance of the Anchoress Margaret, he tells her of "six maners of dremes (in thus many maners touches the ymage of dremes men when they slepe.)" Two of these he tells her, come from over-eating, and "such no man, holy or other, may escape." The third comes from "Illusions of the Enemy," and he warns her that "where many dremes er, thare er many vanitees, and many that may make to erre".

1 The imaginary children whose dream adventures I should tell of should not only learn to master their bad dreams by these methods, but they should go on to find out for themselves the pleasures of dream adventures and travel, and the joy of learning to fly. To be effective the story should be very simply and prosaically told.

2 Cf. Chapter XIV.

We may, happily for ourselves, be free from most of the uncomfortable dreams that Richard Rolle described, but whatever our particular night-fear or special dream of grief may be, most people would agree that a method that would enable us to get rid of the dreams that we dislike or dread would be an incalculable boon. The need must be as old as dreaming itself, and people in all ages have sought a way by which it could be accomplished.

Amongst a collection of objects lately exhibited in London, illustrative of superstitions that had survived from a past age and that had lingered on into this century, there were to be seen certain stones pierced by natural holes, which were intended to be hung as a talisman over the bed of sleepers afflicted with bad dreams. Many such simple charms were no doubt used; I have not tested the efficacy of any of these, the only magic or spell that I have personally proved being the formula that I have already described, and a second formula that I have also found useful, and that is described in the next chapter.

In making and describing these experiments in dream control the desirability of getting rid of bad dreams has been assumed; and probably the majority of dreamers would make this assumption and would agree that they would gladly rid themselves of all dreams of distress if they could do so by some simple method. It must, however, be noted that from another point of view - that of the Freudian psycho-analyst - repression or control, leading to the abolition of bad dreams, is no unmixed blessing, but is in all likelihood a mistake. He sees in the bad dream a definite warning, hidden under a symbolical form, of some physical or moral evil, a warning which may only be disregarded at our peril, just as the ordinary symptoms of disease may only be disregarded at grave risk. The effect of controlling the content of our dreams is, he tells us, to force them to hide their true significance, so that the problems which they symbolise are only able to appear under a still more complete disguise: bad dreams are therefore looked on by him as warnings, beneficial if properly interpreted, not as evils to be avoided.

It will perhaps only become possible for us to adopt this attitude, and to welcome, instead of shunning, evil dreams, when we have learned to have a more unquestioning faith in the teachers of the new school of healing who are prepared to furnish us with the interpretation of our dreams; but this faith must first be attained, and until our conviction as to the reliability of their analysis is more assured, there will probably be a majority of people who would gladly make the exchange that I have suggested, and rid themselves of their bad dreams, even if these be fraught with possible instruction, in return for a dream life peaceful and unsullied, in which the happier experiences of the day are reflected and the adventures of the imagination are carried on without fear of any ugly or terrifying interruption.