425 B. In the next case (taken from Proceedings S.P.R., vol. xi. p. 509), the precognition does not refer to a danger threatening the percipient himself; there is, moreover, an element of collectivity in it. The account was addressed to Professor James.

Forney, Tex., February 1st, 1894.

Prof. William James, - Dear Sir, - Replying to your request, I find it hard for me to present to you the "premonition" as it impressed me.

In the first place I will state that I am, or have been, in perfect health. I am not in the least superstitious and am not subject to hallucinations, and have never taken but little interest in the investigation of such phenomena. Three years ago last December my son, then eighteen years of age, left home to accept a position in a drug-house in an adjoining county. I was perfectly willing for him to go, and never felt a moment's uneasiness about him. Last summer I took an extended trip east and was gone some time. During my absence I never once felt the least apprehension about my son or any member of my family. I am naturally of a buoyant disposition. Some time last fall, in a vague and indescribable way, I became dissatisfied about my son. I can't say I was uneasy - only dissatisfied - though I cannot tell why. I wrote him several letters - more than I had written him the entire three years of his absence. Early in November he came home on a visit, and after he left, I seemed to get more troubled and dissatisfied about him; it was not uneasiness or apprehension as to any danger, simply I was dissatisfied and troubled about him. I cannot explain my feelings. As near as I can remember, I felt just as I did after my father's death, when I was quite a small boy.

It seemed that the light had suddenly gone out of my life and there was nothing left for me to live for. A weight like a mill-stone seemed crushing out my life. I remarked often to my friends that living seemed to have lost its attraction for me. As December wore along this feeling became intensified, and in some way my son seemed to be the centre of it all. Often I would awake in the night thinking about him, and so impressed with the emptiness and hollowness of life that I could not sleep. On the morning of the 19th [17th] of December I awoke some time before day. It seemed that I had reached a crisis. I got up and kindled a fire without disturbing any member of my family. In all my life I do not remember ever doing such a thing before. I sat down by the fire to think. I cannot explain the awful weight that oppressed me. I did not know what it was, nor what was the matter with me, yet in no way did I anticipate trouble or danger to my son. About 7 a.m. my wife awoke, and sitting in the bed, told me a dream that was strangely impressing her, - in fact, it caused her to awake.

"I thought," she said, "that you were in a strange place, and among people I had never seen before. It was a large family of people, with several small children who were going to school and a grown-up daughter. I came to the place in a wagon, but you were there already. I thought you were very intimate with the family. The large girl sat in your lap and put her arms round your neck and kissed you repeatedly. While I was wondering where you had met these people to become so intimate with them, you suddenly dropped over and died. And I awoke".

I replied to her that I felt wretched enough to wish the dream a reality; that I was so troubled about Walter that life had become a burden. After breakfast I got my writing material, and called my daughter and told her to write Walter a letter at once and tell him to come home. To be sure and get her letter off by the first mail train. I then rode out to one of my farms for recreation. About 12 M. I received a despatch to the effect that my son was badly hurt and was unconscious. I boarded a freight train and hurried at once to the scene, with the understanding that my wife and daughter come later on the passenger. Now, right here comes in a remarkable feature in that strange matter. Through some misunderstanding they failed to catch the train and had to get private conveyance and come directly across the country. By their changing horses at each little town, they were enabled to reach my son by 11 o'clock at night. The accident had happened near the residence of a most excellent farmer, whose daughter my son had been long visiting. To the house of this gentleman he was taken, as it was not only near by, but was the house of his best friends. He had a large family of children who were all deeply attached to my son.

Of a truth, I could not say that we suffered more than did those people because of my son's death. When my wife entered the room where our boy lay unconscious, this girl I speak of was standing at the head of his bed weeping. She gave a glance around, and then whispered in my ear, " This is my dream! This is the room I saw you in - these are the people I dreamed of." Even her trip there in a wagon was a verification of her dream, and the family were just such people as she described to me - "very plain, but most excellent country people." The very nature of the country through which she travelled was in perfect fulfilment of her dream, as was also the scenery surrounding the house.