This passage once again shows his prescience of what had been Prophesized.
"A dream? Then-then-am I not really here, Sir?"
"No, Son," said he kindly, taking my hand in his. "It is not so good as that. The bitter drink of death is still before you. Ye are only dreaming. And if ye come to tell of what ye have seen, make it plain that it was but a dream. See ye make it very plain. Give no poor fool the pretext to think ye are claiming knowledge of what no mortal knows. I'll have no Sweden- borgsand no Vale Owens among my children."
"God forbid, Sir," said I, trying to look very wise.
"He has forbidden it. That's what I'm telling ye." As he said this he looked more Scotch than ever.