id;
"Dreams are froth, let the learned think what they will of them; and
you will do well to turn your attention from such useless and hurtful
speculations. The times when Heavenly visions were seen in dreams have
long past by, nor can we understand the state of mind, which those
chosen men, of whom the Bible speaks, enjoyed. Dreams, as well as other
human affairs, must have been of a different nature then. In the age in
which we live, there is no direct intercourse with Heaven. Old
histories and writings are now the only fountains, from which we can
draw, as far as is needful, a knowledge of the spiritual world; and
instead of express revelations, the Holy Ghost now speaks to us
immediately through the understandings of wise and sensible men, and by
the lives and fate of those most distinguished for their piety. I have
never been much edified by the visions, which are now seen; nor do I
place much confidence in the wonders, which our divines relate about
them. Yet let every one, who can, be edified by them; I would not cause
any one to err in his faith."

"But, dear father, upon what grounds are you so opposed to belief in
dreams, when singular changes, and flighty, unstable nature, are at
least worthy of some reflection? Is not every dream, even the most
confused, a peculiar vision, which, though we do not call it sent from
Heaven, yet makes an important rent in the mysterious curtain, which,
with a thousand folds, hides our inward natures from our view? We can
find accounts of many such dreams, coming from credible men, in the
wisest books; and you need only call to mind, to support what I have
said, the dream which our good pastor lately related to us, and which
appeared to you so remarkable. But, without taking those writings into
account, if now for the first time you should have a dream, how would
it overwhelm you, and how constantly would your thoughts be fixed upon
the miracle, which, from its very frequency, now appears such a simple
occurrence. Dreams appear to me to break up the monotony and even tenor
of life, to serve as a recreation to the chained fancy. They mingle
together all the scenes and fancies of life, and change the continual
earnestness of age, into the merry sports of childhood. Were it not for
dreams, we should certainly grow older; and though they be not given us
immediately from above; yet they should be regarded as Heavenly gifts,
as friendly guides, in our pilgrimage to the holy tomb. I am