Hypatia by Charles Kingsley

'Here am I, at last! ' said Raphael Aben-Ezra to himself. 'Fairly and safely landed at the very bottom of the bottomless; disporting myself on the firm floor of the primeval nothing, and finding my new element, like boys when they begin to swim, not so impracticable after all. No man, angel, or demon, can this day cast it in my teeth that I am weak enough to believe or disbelieve any phenomenon or theory in or concerning heaven or earth; or even that any such heaven, earth, phenomena, or theories exist -- or otherwise. I trust that is a sufficiently exhaustive statement of my opinions? . I am certainly not dogmatic enough to deny -- or to assert either -- that there are sensations. far too numerous for comfort. but as for proceeding any further, by induction, deduction, analysis, or synthesis, I utterly decline the office of Arachne, and will spin no more cobwebs out of my own inside -- if I have any. Sensations? What are they, but parts of oneself -- if one has a self!

What put this child's fancy into one's head, that there is anything outside of one which produces them? You have exactly similar feelings in your dreams, and you know that there is no reality corresponding to them -- No, you don't! How dare you be dogmatic enough to affirm that? Why should not your dreams be as real as your waking thoughts? Why should not your dreams be the reality, and your waking thoughts the dream? What matter which?