that we sometimes think; and thence draw this infallible consequence,—­that there is something in us that has a power to think.  But whether that substance perpetually thinks or no, we can be no further assured than experience informs us.  For, to say that actual thinking is essential to the soul, and inseparable from it, is to beg what is in question, and not to prove it by reason;—­which is necessary to be done, if it be not a self-evident proposition But whether this, “That the soul always thinks,” be a self-evident proposition, that everybody assents to at first hearing, I appeal to mankind.  It is doubted whether I thought at all last night or no.  The question being about a matter of fact, it is begging it to bring, as a proof for it, an hypothesis, which is the very thing in dispute:  by which way one may prove anything, and it is but supposing that all watches, whilst the balance beats, think, and it is sufficiently proved, and past doubt, that my watch thought all last night.  But he that would not deceive himself, ought to build his hypothesis on matter of fact, and make it out by sensible experience, and not presume on matter of fact, because of his hypothesis, that is, because he supposes it to be so; which way of proving amounts to this, that I must necessarily think all last night, because another supposes I always think, though I myself cannot perceive that I always do so.

But men in love with their opinions may not only suppose what is in question, but allege wrong matter of fact.  How else could any one make it an inference of mine, that a thing is not, because we are not sensible of it in our sleep?  I do not say there is no soul in a man, because he is not sensible of it in his sleep; but I do say, he cannot think at any time, waking or sleeping, without being sensible of it.  Our being sensible of it is not necessary to anything but to our thoughts; and to them it is; and to them it always will be necessary, till we can think without being conscious of it.

11.  It is not always conscious of it.

I grant that the soul, in a waking man, is never without thought, because it is the condition of being awake.  But whether sleeping without dreaming be not an affection of the whole man, mind as well as body, may be worth a waking man’s consideration; it being hard to conceive that anything should think and not be conscious of it.  If the soul doth think in a sleeping man without being conscious of it, I ask whether, during such thinking, it has any pleasure or pain, or be capable of happiness or misery?  I am sure the man is not; no more than the bed or earth he lies on.  For to be happy or miserable without being conscious of it, seems to me utterly inconsistent and impossible.  Or if it be possible that the soul can, whilst the body is sleeping, have its thinking, enjoyments, and concerns, its pleasures or pain, apart, which the man is not conscious of nor partakes in,—­it