Recognising a dream at the precipice

About the age of fourteen I was almost every night unhappy in my sleep from frightful dreams. Sometimes hanging over a frightful precipice, and just ready to drop down; sometimes pursued for my life, and stopped by a wall, or by a sudden loss of all strength ; sometimes ready to be devoured by a wild beast. How long I was plagued with such dreams I do not now recollect. I believe it was for a year or two at least; and I think they had not quite left me before I was sixteen. In those days I was much given to what Mr. Addison, in one of his ‘ Spectators,’ calls ‘ castle-building ;’ and in my evening solitary walk, which was generally all the exercise I took, my thoughts would hurry me into some active scene, where I generally acquitted myself much to my own satisfaction; and in these scenes of imagination I performed many a gallant exploit. At the same time in my dreams I found myself the most arrant coward that ever was. Not only my courage, but my strength failed me in every danger : and I often rose from my bed in the morning in such a panic, that it took some time to get the better of it. I wished very much to get rid of these uneasy dreams, which not only made me very unhappy in sleep, but often left a disagreeable impression on my mind for some part of the following day. I thought it was worth trying whether it was possible to recollect that it was all a dream, and that I was in no real danger. I often went to sleep with my mind as strongly impressed as I could with this thought, that I never in my lifetime was in any real danger, and that every fright I had was a dream. After many fruitless endeavours to recollect this when the danger appeared, I effected it at last, and have often, when I was sliding over a precipice into the abyss, recollected that it was all a dream, and boldly jumped down. The effect of this commonly was, that I immediately awoke. But I awoke calm and intrepid, which I thought a great acquisition. After this my dreams were never uneasy, and in a short time I dreamed not at all. During all this time I was in perfect health; but whether my ceasing to dream was the effect of the recollection abovementioned, or of any change in the habit of my body, which is usual about that period of life, I cannot tell. I think it may more probably be imputed to the last. However, the fact was, that for forty years after I dreamed none, to the best of my remembrance ; and finding from the testimony of others that this is somewhat uncommon, I have often, as soon as I awoke, endeavoured to recollect, without being able to recollect anything that passed in my sleep. For some years past I can sometimes recollect some kind of dreaming thoughts, but sc incoherent that I can make nothing of them.