Therefore, Forethought means a great deal more, as here employed, than seeing in advance, or deliberate prudence - it rather implies, like divination or foreknowledge, sagacity and mental action as well as mere perception. It will inevitably or assuredly grow with the practice of self-hypnotism if the latter be devoted to mental improvement, but as it grows it will qualify the operator to lay aside the sleep and suggest to himself directly.

All men of great natural strength of mind, gifted with the will to do and dare, the beings of action and genius, act directly, and are like athletes who lift a tree by the simple exertion of the muscles. He who achieves his aim by self-culture, training, or hypnotism, is like one who raises the weight by means of a lever, and if he practise it often enough, he may in the end become as strong as the other.

There is a curious and very illustrative instance of Forethought in the sense in which I am endeavouring to explain it, given in a novel the "Scalp-Hunters," by Mayne Reid, with whom I was well acquainted in bygone years. Not having the original, I translate from a French version :

" His aim with the rifle is infallible, and it would seem as if the ball obeyed his Will. There must be a kind of directing principle in his mind, independent of strength of nerve and sight. He and one other are the only men in whom I have observed this singular power."

This means simply, the exercise in a second, as it were, of "the tap on the bell-knob," or the projection of the will into the proposed shot, and which may be applied to any act. Gymnasts, leapers and the like are all familiar with it. It springs from resolute confidence and self-impulse enforced; but it also creates them, and the growth is very great and rapid when the idea is much kept before the mind. In this latter lies most of the problem.

In Humanity, mind, and especially Forethought, or reflection, combined in one effort with will and energy, enters into all acts, though often unsuspected, for it is a kind of unconscious reflex action or cerebration. Thus I once discovered to my astonishment in a gymnasium, that the extremely mechanical action of putting up a heavy weight from the ground to the shoulder and from the shoulder to the full reach of the arm above the head, became much easier after a little practice, although my muscles had not grown, nor my strength increased during the time. And I found that whatever the exertion might be, there was always some trick or knack, however indescribable, by means of which the man with a brain could surpass a dolt at any things though the latter were his equal in strength. But it sometime happens that the trick can be taught and even improved on. And it is in all cases Forethought, even in the lifting of weights or the willing on the morrow to write a poem.

For this truly weird power - since "the weird sisters" in "Macbeth" means only the sisters who foresee - is, in fact, the energy which projects itself in some manner, which physiology can as yet only very weakly explain, and even if the explanation were perfect, it would amount in fact to no more than showing the machinery of a watch, when the main object for us is that it should keep time, and tell the hour, as well as exhibit the ingenuity of a maker, - which thing is very much lost sight of, even by many very great thinkers, misled by the vanity of showing how much they know.

Yes, - Foresight or Forethought projects itself in all things, and it is a serious consideration, or one of such immense value, that when really understood, and above all subjected to some practice - such as I have described, and which, as far as I can see is necessary - one can bring it to bear intelligently on all the actions of life, that is to say to much greater advantage than when we use it ignorantly, just as a genius endowed with strength can do far more with it than an ignoramus. For there is nothing requiring Thought, in which it cannot aid us. I have alluded to Poetry. Now this does not mean that a man can become a Shakespeare or Shelley by means of all the forethought, and hypnotising in the world, but they will, if well-developed and directed, draw out from the mystic depths of mind such talent as he has, - doubtless in some or all cases more than he has ever shown.

No one can 6ay what is hidden in every memory; it is like the sounding ocean with its buried cities, and treasures and wondrous relics of the olden time. This much we may assume to know, that every image or idea or impression which ever reached us through any of our senses, entered a cell when it was ready for it, where it sleeps or wakes, most images being in the former condition. In fact, every brain is like a monastery of the Middle Ages, or a bee-hive. But it is built on a gigantic scale, for it is thought that no man, however learned or experienced he might be, ever contrived during all his life to so much as even half-fill the cells of his memory. And if any reader should be apprehensive lest it come to pass with him in this age of unlimited supply of cheap knowledge, that he will fill all his cells; let him console himself with the reflection that it is supposed that nature, in such a case, will have a further supply of new cells ready, she never, as yet, having failed in such rough hospitality, though it often leaves much to be desired !

Yes, they are all there - every image of the past, every face which ever smiled on us - the hopes and fears of bygone years the rustling of grass and flowers and the roar of the sea - the sound of trumpets in processions grand - the voices of the great and good among mankind - or what you will. Every line ever read in print, every picture and face and house is there. Many an experiment has shown this to he true; also that by mesmerising or hypnotising processes, the most hidden images or memories can he awakened. In fact, the idea has lost much of its wonder since the time of Coleridge, now that every sound can he recorded, laid away and reproduced, and we are touching closely on an age when all that lies perdu in any mind can or will he set forth visibly, and all that a man has ever seen he shown to the world. For this is no whit more wonderful than that we can convey images or pictures by telegraph, and when I close my eyes and recall or imagine a form, it does not seem strange that there might he some process by means of which it might be photographed.