7. A curious question demands our attention in this place; as we do not distinguish in our dreams and reveries between our perceptions of external objects, and our ideas of them in their absence, how do we distinguish them at any time? In a dream, if the sweetness of sugar occurs to my imagination, the whiteness and hardness of it, which were ideas usually connected with the sweetness, immediately follow in the train; and I believe a material lump of sugar present before my senses: but in my waking hours, if the sweetness occurs to my imagination, the stimulus of the table to my hand, or of the window to my eye, prevents the other ideas of the hardness and whiteness of the sugar from succeeding; and hence I perceive the fallacy, and disbelieve the existence of objects correspondent to those ideas, whose tribes or trains are broken by the stimulus of other objects. And further in our waking hours, we frequently exert our volition in comparing present appearances with such, as we have usually observed; and thus correct the errors of one sense by our general knowledge of nature by intuitive analogy. See Sect. XVII. 3. 7. Whereas in dreams the power of volition is suspended, we can recollect and compare our present ideas with none of our acquired knowledge, and are hence incapable of observing any absurdities in them.
By this criterion we distinguish our waking from our sleeping hours, we can voluntarily recollect our sleeping ideas, when we are awake, and compare them with our waking ones; but we cannot in our sleep voluntarily recollect our waking ideas at all.
8. The vast variety of scenery, novelty of combination, and distinctness of imagery, are other curious circumstances of our sleeping imaginations. The variety of scenery seems to arise from the superior activity and excellence of our sense of vision; which in an instant unfolds to the mind extensive fields of pleasurable ideas; while the other senses collect their objects slowly, and with little combination; add to this, that the ideas, which this organ presents us with, are more frequently connected with our sensation than those of any other.
9. The great novelty of combination is owing to another circumstance; the trains of ideas, which are carried on in our waking thoughts, are in our dreams dissevered in a thousand places by the suspension of volition, and the absence of irritative ideas, and are hence perpetually falling into new catenations. As explained in Sect. XVII. 1. 9. For the power of volition is perpetually exerted during our waking hours in comparing our passing trains of ideas with our acquired knowledge of nature, and thus forms many intermediate links in their catenation. And the irritative ideas excited by the stimulus of the objects, with which we are surrounded, are every moment intruded upon us, and form other links of our unceasing catenations of ideas.


