n Matter. In the first Place, our Dreams are great
Instances of that Activity which is natural to the human Soul, and which
it is not in the power of Sleep to deaden or abate. When the Man appears
tired and worn out with the Labours of the Day, this active part in his
Composition is still busied and unwearied. When the Organs of Sense want
their due Repose and necessary Reparations, and the Body is no longer
able to keep pace with that spiritual Substance to which it is united,
the Soul exerts her self in her several Faculties, and continues in
Action till her Partner is again qualified to bear her Company. In this
case Dreams look like the Relaxations and Amusements of the Soul, when
she is disincumbred of her Machine, her Sports and Recreations, when she
has laid her Charge asleep.

In the Second Place, Dreams are an Instance of that Agility and
Perfection which is natural to the Faculties of the Mind, when they are
disengaged from the Body. The Soul is clogged and retarded in her
Operations, when she acts in Conjunction with a Companion that is so
heavy and unwieldy in its Motions. But in Dreams it is wonderful to
observe with what a Sprightliness and Alacrity she exerts her self. The
slow of Speech make unpremeditated Harangues, or converse readily in
Languages that they are but little acquainted with. The Grave abound in
Pleasantries, the Dull in Repartees and Points of Wit. There is not a
more painful Action of the Mind, than Invention; yet in Dreams it works
with that Ease and Activity, that we are not sensible when the Faculty
is employed. For instance, I believe every one, some time or other,
dreams that he is reading Papers, Books, or Letters; in which case the
Invention prompts so readily, that the Mind is imposed upon, and
mistakes its own Suggestions for the Compositions of another.

I shall, under this Head, quote a Passage out of the _Religio Medici_,
[1] in which the ingenious Author gives an account of himself in his
dreaming and his waking Thoughts.

'We are somewhat more than our selves in our Sleeps, and the Slumber
of the Body seems to be but the Waking of the Soul. It is the
Litigation of Sense, but the Liberty of Reason; and our waking
Conceptions do not match the Fancies of our Sleeps. At my Nativity my
Ascendant was the watery Sign of_ Scorpius: I _was born in the
Planetary Hour of_ Saturn, _and I think I have a piece of that leaden
Planet in me. I am no way facetious, nor dispos