eams are between sleeping and waking when we hear a voice giving
directions. A modern example occurred in the trial of the Assynt
murderer in 1831. One Kenneth Fraser, called 'the dreamer,' said in
the trial: 'I was at home when I had the dream. It was said to me
in my sleep by a voice like a man's voice, that the pack (of the
murdered pedlar) was lying in sight of the place. I got a sight of
the place just as if I had been awake. I never saw the place
before, but the voice said in Gaelic, "the pack of the merchant is
lying in a cairn of stones, in a hollow near to their house". The
voice did not name Macleod's house.' The pack was, however, not
found there, but in a place hard by, which Kenneth had _not_ seen in
his dream. Oddly enough, the murderer had originally hidden the
pack, or some of its contents, in a cairn of stones, but later
removed it. In the 'willing game,' as played by Mr. Stuart
Cumberland, the seeker usually goes first to the place where the
hider had thought of concealing the object, though later he changed
his mind. Macleod was hanged, he confessed his guilt. {71}

Iamblichus believed in dreams of this kind, and in voices heard by
men wide awake, as in the case of Joan of Arc. When an invisible
spirit is present, he makes a whirring noise, like the Cock Lane
Ghost! {72} Lights also are exhibited; the medium then by some
mystic sense knows what the spirit means. The soul has two lives,
one animal, one intellectual; in sleep the latter is more free, and
more clairvoyant. In trance, or somnambulism, many cannot feel pain
even if they are burned, the god within does not let fire harm them
(iii. 4). This, of course, suggests Home's experiments in handling
live coals, as Mr. Crookes and Lord Crawford describe them. Compare
the Berserk 'coal-biters' in the saga of Egil, and the Huron coal-
biter in the preceding essay. 'They do not then live an animal
life.' Sword points do not hurt them. Their actions are no longer
human. 'Inaccessible places are accessible to them, when thus borne
by the gods; and they tread on fire unharmed; they walk across
rivers. . . . They are not themselves, they live a diviner life,
with which they are inspired, and by which they are possessed.'
Some are convulsed in one way, some in another, some are still.
Harmonies are heard (as in Home's case and that of Mr. Stainton
Moses). Their bodies are elongated (like Home's), or broadened, or
float in mid-air, as