and, in her dream, saw the people about her mother bring in her own
little niece and god-child Charlotte from the next room. The patient
intimated by a sign that she did not want _this_ Charlotte, but her
daughter in Paris. She displayed the deepest regret; her countenance
changed, she fell back, and died.

Next day the melancholy of Mademoiselle C. attracted the attention of
her uncle. She told him her dream; he pressed her to his heart, and
admitted that her mother was dead.

Some months later Mademoiselle C., when her uncle was absent, arranged
his papers, which he did not like any one to touch. Among these was a
letter containing the story of her mother's death, with all the
details of her own dream, which D. had kept concealed lest they should
impress her too painfully.

Boismont is staggered by this circumstance, and inclined to account
for it by "still unknown relations in the moral and physical world".
"Mental telegraphy," of course, would explain all, and even chance
coincidence is perfectly conceivable.

The most commonly known of dreams prior to, or simultaneous with an
historical occurrence represented in the vision, is Mr. Williams's
dream of the murder of Mr. Perceval in the lobby of the House of
Commons, May 11, 1812. Mr. Williams, of Scorrier House, near Redruth,
in Cornwall, lived till 1841. He was interested in mines, and a man
of substance. Unluckily the versions of his dream are full of
discrepancies. It was first published, apparently, in The Times
during the "silly season" of 1828 (August 28). According to The
Times, whose account is very minute, Mr. Williams dreamed of the