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tells us, had the figure of Apollo and the in sleep we have not the command of them. nine muses in the veins of it, produced by the The ideas which strike the fancy arise in spontaneous hand of nature, without any help us without our choice, either from the occur. from art. rences of the day past, the temper we lie down in, or it may be the direction of some superior being.

No. 593.] Monday, September 13, 1714.

Quale per incertam lunam sub luce maligna
Est iter in sylvis –
Virg. Æn. vi. 270.

Thus wander travellers in woods by night,
By the moon's doubtful and malignant light.

Dryden. My dreaming correspondent, Mr Shadow, has sent me a second letter, with several curious observations on dreams in general, and the method to render sleep improving: an extract of his litter will not, I presume, be disagreeable to my readers.

It is certain the imagination may be so dif ferently affected in sleep, that our actions of the day might be either rewarded or punished with a little age of happiness or misery. Saint Austin was of opinion that, if in Paradise there was the same vicissitude of sleeping and waking, as in the present world, the dreams of its inhabitants would be very happy.

And so far at present are our dreams in our power, that they are generally comformable to our waking thoughts, so that it is not impossible to convey ourselves to a concert of music, the conversation of distant friends, or any other entertainment which has been before lodged in the mind.

night.

I have often considered Marcia's prayer, and Lucia's account of Cato, in this light.

'Since we have so little time to spare, that none of it may be lost, I see no reason why we My readers, by applying these hints, will should neglect to examine those imaginary find the necessity of making a good day of scenes we are presented with in sleep, only be- it, if they heartily wish themselves a good cause they have less reality in them than our waking meditations. A traveller would bring his judgment in question, who should despise the directions of his map for want of real roads in it, because here stands a dot instead of a town, or a cypher instead of a city; and it must be a long day's journey to travel through two or three inches. Fancy in dreams gives us much such another landscape of life as that does of countries: and, though its appearance may seem strangely jumbled together, we may often observe such traces and footsteps of noble thoughts, as, if carefully pursued, might lead us into a proper path of action. There is so much rapture and ecstacy in our fancied bliss, and something so dis- Mr. Shadow acquaints me in a postcript, mal and shocking in our fancied misery, that, that he has no manner of title to the vision though the inactivity of the body has given which succeeded his first letter; but adds, occasion for calling sleep the image of death, that, as the gentleman who wrote it dreams the briskness of the fancy affords us a strong very sensibly, he shall be glad to meet him intimation of something within us that can some night or other under the great elmnever die. tree, by which Virgil has given us a fine meta

Marc. O ye immortal powers, that guard the just,
Watch round bis couch, and soften his repose,
Banish his sorrows, and becalm his soul
With easy dreams; remember all his virtues,
And show mankind that goodness is your care.
Luc. Sweet are the slumbers of the virtuous man!
O Marcia, I have seen thy god-like father;
Some power invisible supports his soul,
And bears it up in all its wonted greatness.
A kind refreshing sleep is fallen upon him:
I saw him stretch'd at ease, his fancy lost
In pleasing dreams. As I drew near his conch
He smil'd, and cry'd, Caesar, thou canst not hurt me.”

'I have wondered that Alexander the Great, phorical image of sleep, in order to turn over who came into the world sufficiently dreamed a few of the leaves together, and oblige the of by his parents, and had himself a tolerable public with an account of the dreams that lie knack of dreaming, should often say, that sleep under them.

was one thing which made him sensible he was

mortal. I, who have not such fields of action

Absentem qui rodit amicum;

Qui non defendit alio culpante; solutos
Qui captat risus hominum, famamque dicacis;
Fingere qui non visa potest; commissa tacere
Qui nequit; hic niger est: hunc tu, Romane, caveto.
Hor. Sat. iv. Lib. 1. 81.

in the day-time to divert my attention from No. 594.] Wednesday, September 15, 1714. this matter, plainly perceive that in those operations of the mind, while the body is at rest, there is a certain vastness of conception very suitable to the capacity, and demonstrative of the force of that divine part in our composition which will last for ever. Neither do I much doubt but, had we a true account of the wonders the hero last-mentioned performed in his sleep, his conquering this little globe would hardly be worth mentioning. I may affirm, without vanity, that, when I compare several actions in Quintus Curtius with some others in my own noctuary, I appear the greater hero of the two.'

He that shall rail against his absent friends,
Or hears them scandaliz'd, and not defends;
Sports with their fame, and speaks whate'er he can,
And only to be thought a witty man;
Tells tales, and brings his friends in disesteem;
That man's a knave;-be sure beware of him.

Creech.

WERE all the vexations of life put together, we should find that a great part of

I shall close this subject with observing, them proceed from those calumnies and rethat while we are awake we are at liberty proaches which we spread abroad concerning to fix our thoughts on what we please, but one another.

There is scarce a man living, who is not, in as far distant from truth as the cars are from some degree, guilty of this offence; though at the eyes." By which he would intimate, the same time, however we treat one another, that a wise man should not easily give credit it must be confessed, that we all consent in to the report of actions which he has not speaking ill of the persons who are notorious seen. I shall, under this head, mention two for this practice. It generally takes its rise or three remarkable rules to be observed by either from an ill-will to mankind, a private the members of the celebrated Abbey de la inclination to make ourselves esteemed, an os-Trappe, as they are published in a little French tentation of wit, a vanity of being thought in book.t

the secrets of the world, or from a desire of The fathers are there ordered never to give gratifying any of these dispositions of mind in an ear to any accounts of base or criminal those persons with whom we converse. actions to turn off all such discourse if posThe publisher of scandal is more or less odi-sible: but, in case they hear any thing of ous to mankind, and criminal in himself, as he this nature so well attested that they cannot is influenced by any one or more of the fore- disbelieve it, they are then to suppose that the going motives. But, whatever may be the oc- criminal action may have proceeded from a casion of spreading these false reports, he good intention in him who is guilty of it. ought to consider that the effect of them is This is, perhaps, carrying charity to an exequally prejudicial and pernicious to the per-travagance; but it is certainly much more son at whom they are aimed. The injury is the laudable than to suppose, as the ill-natured same, though the principle from which it pro- part of the world does, that indifferent and ceeds may be different. even good actions proceed from bad principles and wrong intentions.

As every one looks upon himself with too much indulgence, when he passes a judgment on his own thoughts or actions, and as very few would be thought guilty of this abominable proceeding, which is so universally practised, and at the same time so universally blamed, I shall lay down, three rules, by which I would have a man examine and search into his own heart before he stands acquitted to himself of that evil disposition of mind which I am here mentioning.

In the third place, a man should examine his heart, whether he does not find in it a secret inclination to propagate such reports as tend to the disreputation of another.

When the disease of the mind, which I have hitherto been speaking of, arises to this degree of malignity, it discovers itself in its worst symptom, and is in danger of becoming incu. rable. I need not therefore insist upon the guilt in this last particular, which every one cannot but disapprove, who is not void of humanity, or even common discretion. I shall only add, that, whatever pleasure any man Secondly, Whether he is not too apt to be-may take in spreading whispers of this nalieve such little blackening accounts, and more ture, he will find an infinitely greater satisinclined to be credulous on the uncharitable faction in conquering the temptation he is unthan on the good-natured side. der by letting the secret die within his own breast.

First of all, Let him consider whether he does not take delight in hearing the faults of

others.

Thirdly, Whether he is not ready to spread and propagate such reports as tend to the disreputation of another.

These are the several steps by which this vice No. 595.] proceeds and grows up into slander and defamation.

Friday, September 17, 1714.
-Non ut placidis cocant immitia, non ut
Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.
Hor. Ars Poet. ver. 12,

Nature and the common laws of sense,
Forbid to reconcile antipathics;
Or make a snake engender with a dove,
And hungry tigers court the tender lambs.

Roscommun.

In the first place a man who takes delight in hearing the faults of others, shows suffi-] ciently that he has a true relish of scandal,| and consequently the seeds of this vice within him. If his mind is gratified with hearing the reproaches which are cast on others, he will find the same pleasure in relating them, and be the more apt to do it, as he will natuIr ordinary authors would condescend ta rally imagine every one he converses with is write as they think, they would at least be delighted in the same manner with himself. allowed the praise of being intelligible. But A man should endeavour therefore to wear they really take pains to be ridiculous; and, out of his mind this criminal curiosity, which by the studied ornaments of style, perfectly is perpetually heightened and inflamed by disguise the little sense they aim at. There listening to such stories as tend to the disrepu- is a grievance of this sort in the commontation of others. wealth of letters, which I have for some time In the second place a man should consult his resolved, to redress, and accordingly I have own heart, whether he be not apt to believe set this day apart for justice. What I mean such little blackening accounts, and more in- is the mixture of inconsistent metaphors, which clined to be credulous on the uncharitable than is a fault but too often found in learned wrion the good-natured side.

Such a credulity is very vicious in itself, * Stobæi Serm. 61.

and generally arises from a man's consciousness of his own secret corruptions. It is a + Felibien, Description de l'Abbaye de la Trappe, pretty saying of Thales, Falsehood is just bien to the dutees of Lizucourt. Paris 1671; reprinted in 1682. It is a letter of M. Feli

ters, but in all the unlearned without excep- torrid zones, and pursued her from one pole

tion.

to the other.

I shall conclude this paper with a letter written in that enormous style, which I hope my reader hath by this time set his heart against. The epistle hath heretofore received great applause ; but after what hath been said, let any man commend it if he dare.

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SIR,

In order to set this matter in a clear light to every reader, I shall in the first place observe, that a metaphor is a simile in one word, which serves to convey the thoughts of the mind under resemblances and images which affect the senses. There is not any thing in the world, which may not be compared to several things if considered in several distinct lights; or, in other words, the same thing may be expressed 'After the many heavy lashes that have falby different metaphors. But the mischief is len from your pen, you may justly expect in that an unskilful author shall run these meta-return all the load that my ink can lay upon phors so absurdly into one another, that your shoulders. You have quartered all the there shall be no simile, no agreeable picture, foul language upon me that could be raked no apt resemblance, but confusion, obscurity, out of the air of Billingsgate, without knowing and noise. Thus I have known a hero com- who I am, or whether I deserved to be cupped pared to a thunderbolt, a lion, and the sea; and scarified at this rate. I tell you, once for all and each of them proper metaphors for all, turn your eyes where you please, you shall impetuosity, courage, or force. But by bad never smell me out. Do you think that the management it hath so happened, that the panicks, which you sow about the parish, will thunderbolt hath overflowed its banks, the ever build a monument to your glory? No, lion hath been darted through the skies, and sir you may fight these battles as long as you the billows have rolled out of the Libyan de- will, but when you come to balance the account you will find that you have been fishing The absurdity, in this instance is obvious. in troubled waters, and that an ignus fatuus And yet every time that clashing metaphors hath bewildered you, and that indeed you are put together, this fault is committed more have built upon a sandy foundation, and or less. It hath already been said, that meta- brought your hogs to a fair market.

sert..

phors are images of things which affect the Senses. An image, therefore, taken from what acts upon the sight, cannot, without violence, be applied to the hearing; and so of

The

'I am, Sir.

'Yours, &c.'

Molle meum levibus cor est violabile telis.

'SIR,

Middle-Temple, Sept. 18.

the rest. It is no less an impropriety to make No. 596.] Monday, September 20, 1714. any being in nature or art to do things in its metaphorical state, which it could not do in Ovid, Ep. xv. 79. its original. I shall illustrate what I have said by an instance which I have read more Cupid's light darts my tender bosom move.-Pope. than once in controversial writers. THE case of my correspondent, who sends heavy lashes,' saith a celebrated author, 'that me the following letter, has somewhat in it have dropped from your pen, &c.' I sup- so very whimsical, that I know not how to enpose this gentleman, having frequently heard tertain my readers better than by laying it of "gall dropping from a pen, and being lash- before them. ed in a satire,' he was resolved to have them both at any rate, and so uttered this complete piece of nonsense. It will most effectually dis- 'I am fully convinced that there is not upcover the absurdity of these monstrous unions, on earth a more impertinent creature than an if we will suppose these metaphors or images importunate lover. We are daily complaining actually painted. Imagine then a hand hold- of the severity of our fate to people who are ing a pen, and several lashes of whipcord fal- wholly unconcerned in it; and hourly im ling from it, and you have the true represen- proving a passion, which we would persuade tation of this sort of eloquence. I believe, the world is the torment of our lives. Notby this very rule, a reader may be able to withstanding this reflection, sir, I cannot for. judge of the union of all metaphors whatso- bear acquainting you with my own case. You ever, and determine which are homogeneous, and which heterogeneous; or, to speak more plainly, which are consistent and which inconsistent.

must know, then, sir, that, even from my childhood, the most prevailing inclination I could perceive in myself was a strong desire to be in favour with the fair-sex. I am at preThere is yet one evil more which I must sent in the one-and-twentieth year of my age; take notice of, and that is the running of me- and should have made choice of a she-bedtaphors into tedious allegories; which, though fellow many years since, had not my father, an error on the better hand, causes confusion who has a pretty good estate of his own getas much as the other. This becomes abomi- ting, and passes in the world for a prudent nable, when the lustre of one word leads a man, been pleased to lay it down as a maxwriter out of his road, and makes him wander im, that nothing spoils a young fellow's forfrom his subject for a page together. I re- tane so much as marrying early; and that member a young fellow of this turn, who, ha- no man ought to think of wedlock until sixving said by chance that his mistress had a world of charms, thereupon took occasion to consider her as one possessed of frigid and

and twenty, Knowing his sentiments upon this head, I thought it in vain to apply my. self to women of condition, who expect set

tiements; so that all my amours have hitherto who is also very pretty. Now I assure you, been with ladies who had no fortunes: but Mr. Spectator, this did not proceed from any I know not how to give you so good an idea real affection I had conceived for her: but, of me, as by laying before you the history of being a perfect stranger to the conversation of my life. men, and strongly addicted to associate with I can very well remember, that at my the women, I knew no other language but that school-mistress's, whenever we broke up, I of love. I should however be very much obliged was always for joining myself with the miss to you if you could free me from the perplexity who lay-in. and was constantly one of the I am at present in. I have sent word to my first to make a party in the play of Husband old gentleman in the country, that I am despeand Wife. This passion for being well with rately in love with the younger sister; and her the females still increased as I advanced in father, who knew no better, poor man, acyears. At the dancing-school I contracted so quainted him by the same post, that I had for many quarrels by struggling with my fellow-some time made my addresses to the elder. scholars for the partner I liked best, that upon Upon this old Testy sends me up word, that he a ball-night, before our mothers made their has heard so much of my exploits, that he inappearance, I was usually up to the nose in tends immediately to order me to the South-sea. blood. My father, like a discreet man, soon re- Sir, I have occasionally talked so much of dymoved me from this stage of softness to a school ing, that I begin to think there is not much in of discipline, where I learnt Latin and Greek, it; and if the old 'squire persists in his design, I underwent several severities in this place, un-I do hereby give him notice that I am providing til it was thought convenient to send me to myself with proper instruments for the destructhe university: though to confess the truth, tion of despairing lovers: let him therefore I should not have arrived so early at that seat look to it, and consider that by his obstinacy of learning, but from the discovery of an in- he may himself lose the son of his strength, the trigue between me and my master's house-world an hopeful lawyer, my mistress a paskeeper; upon whom I had employed my rhe- sionate lover, and you, Mr. Spectator, toric so effectually, that, though she was a very elderly lady, I had almost brought her to consent to marry me. Upon my arrival at Oxford, I found logic so dry, that, instead

'Your constant admirer,

JEREMY LOVEMORE.'

of giving attention to the dead, I soon fell to No. 597.] Wednesday, September 22, 1714.

addressing the living. My first amour was with a pretty girl whom I shall call Parthenope: her mother sold ale by the town-wall.

Mens sine pondere ludit.

The mind uncumber'd plays.

Petr.

they have been engaged in during that moonshine in the brain. I shall lay before my readers an abridgment of some few of their extravagances, in hopes that they will in time accustom themselves to dream a little more to the purpose.

Being often caught there by the proctor, I was forced at last, that my mistress's reputaSINCE I received my friend Shadow's letter, tion might receive no blemish, to confess my several of my correspondents have been pleased addresses were honourable. Upon this I was to send me an account how they have been immediately sent home; but Parthenope soon employed in sleep, and what notable adventures after marrying a shoe-maker, I was again suffered to return. My next affair was with my tailor's daughter, who deserted me for the sake of a young barber. Upon my complaining to one of my particular friends of this misfortune, the cruel wag made a mere jest of my calamity, and asked me, with a smile, where the needle should turn but to the pole ? After this I was deeply in love with a milliner, and at last with my bed-maker; upon which was sent away, or, in the university phrase, rusticated for ever.

I

Upon my coming home, I settled to my studies so heartily, and contracted so great a reservedness by being kept from the company I most affected, that my father thought he might venture me at the Temple.

One, who styles himself Gladio, complains heavily that his fair-one charges him with inconstancy, and does not use him with half the kindness which the sincerity of his passion may demand; the said Gladio having by valour and stratagem, put to death tyrants, enchanters, monsters, knights, &c. without number, and exposed himself to all manner of dangers for her sake and safety. He desires in his postscript to know whether, from a constant success in them, he may not promise himself to succeed in her esteem at last.

⚫ Within a week after my arrival I began to shine again, and became enamoured with a Another, who is very prolix in his narrative, mighty pretty creature, who had every thing writes me word, that having sent a venture bebut money to recommend her. Having fre-yond sea, he took occasion one night to fancy quent opportunities of uttering all the soft himself gone along with it, and grown on a sudthings which an heart formed for love could den the richest man in all the Indies. Having inspire me with, I soon gained her consent been there about a year or two, a gust of wind to treat of marriage; hut, unfortunately for that forced open his casement, blew him over us all, in the absence of my charmer I usually to his native country again, where, awaking at talked the same language to her eldest sister, six o'clock, and the change of the air not a

greeing with him he turned to his left side in

*A pole was the common sign of a barber's shop. It is order to a second voyage; but before he could now seldom seen in the metropolis. get on ship-board was unfortunately appre

hended for stealing a horse, tried and condemn- in the morning, his Imperial Majesty was deed for the fact, and in a fair way of being ex- posed by a chimney-sweeper. ecuted, if somebody stepping hastily into his On the other hand, I have epistolary testichamber had not brought him a reprieve. This monies of gratitude from many miserable peofellow too wants Mr. Shadow's advice; who, Iple, who owe to this clamorous tribe frequent dare say, would bid him be content to rise af deliverances from great misfortunes. A smallter his first nap, and learn to be satisfied as soon as nature is.

coal-inan, by waking one of these distressed gentlemen,saved him from ten years imprisonment. An honest watchman, bidding a loud good-morrow to another, freed him from the malice of many potent enemies, and brought all their designs against him to nothing. A certain valetudinarian confessed he has often been cured of a sore-throat by the hoarseness of a carman, and relieved from a fit of the gout by the sound of old shoes. A noisy puppy,that

The next is a public-spirited gentleman, who tells me, that on the second of Sepsember, at night, the whole city was on fire, and would certainly have been reduced to ashes again by this time, if he had not flown over it with the New River on his back, and happily extinguished the flames before they had prevailed too He would be informed whether he has not a right to petition the lord mayor and al-plagued a sober gentleman all night long with his impertinence, was silenced by a cinderwench with a word speaking.

far.

dermen for a reward.

A letter, dated September the ninth, acquaints me, that the writer, being resolved to try his Instead therefore of suppressing this order of fortune, had fasted all that day; and, that he mortals, I would propose it to my readers to might be sure of dreaming upon something at make the best advantage of their morning sanight, procured a handsome slice of bride-cake, lutations. A famous Macedonian prince, for which he placed very conveniently under his fear of forgetting himself in the midst of his pillow. In the morning his memory hap- good fortune, had a youth to wait on him every pened to fail him, and he could recollect no-morning, and bid him remember that he was a thing but an odd fancy that he had eaten his man. A citizen, who is waked by one of these cake; which being found upon search reduced criers, may regard him as a kind of rememto a few crumbs, he is resolved to remember brancer, come to admonish him that it is time more of his dreams another time, believing to return to the circumstances he has overfrom this that there may possibly be somewhat

of truth in them.

looked all the night time, to leave off fancying himself what he is not, and prepare to act suitably to the condition he is really placed in.

I have received numerous complaints from several delicious dreamers, desiring me to in- People may dream on as long as they please, vent some method of silencing those noisy but I shall take no notice of any imaginary adslaves, whose occupations lead them to take ventures that do not happen while the sun is their early rounds about the city in a morning, on this side the horizon. For which reason I doing a deal of mischief, and working strange stifle Fritilla's dream at church last Sunday, confusion in the affairs of its inhabitants. Se- who, while the rest of the audience were enveral monarchs have done me the honour to joying the benefit of an excellent discourse, was acquaint me how often they have been shook losing her money and jewels to a gentleman at from their respective thrones by the rattling play, until after a strange run of ill-luck she of a coach, or the rumbling of a wheelbarrow. was reduced to pawn three lovely pretty chilAnd many private gentlemen, I find, have been dren for her last stake, When she had thrown bawled out of vast estates by fellows not worth them away, her companion went off, discoverthree-pence. A fair lady was just on the pointing himself by his usual tokens, a cloven foot of being married to a young, handsome, rich, and a strong smell of brimstone, which last ingenious nobleman, when an impertinent tin- proved a bottle of spirits, which a good old laker passing by, forbid the bans; and an hope-dy applied to her nose, to put her in a condition ful youth who had been newly advanced to of hearing the preacher's third head concerngreat honour and preferment, was forced by a ing time.

neighbouring cobbler to resign all for an old If a man has no mind to pass abruptly from song. It has been represented to me that those his imagined to his real circumstances, he may inconsiderable rascals do nothing but go about employ himself a while in that new kind of obdissolving of marriages, and spoiling of for-servation which my oneirocritial correspontunes, impoverishing rich, and ruining great dent has directed him to make of himself. Purpeople, interrupting beauties in the midst of suing the imagination through all its axtravatheir conquests, and generals in the course of gancies, whether in sleeping or waking, is no their victories A boisterous peripatetic hardly improper method of correcting and bringing it goes through a street without waking half a to act in subordination to reason, so as to be dozen kings and princes, to open their shops or delighted only with such objects as will affect clean shoes, frequently transforming sceptres it with pleasure when it is never so cool and into paring-shovels, and proclamations into sedate.

bills. I have by me a letter from a young

statesman, who in five or six hours came to be

emperor of Europe, after which he made war No. 598.] Friday, September 24, 1714.
upon the Great Turk, routed him horse and
foot, and was crowned lord of the universe in
Constantinople: the conclusion of all his suc-
cesses is, that on the 12th instant, about seven

Jamne igitur laudas, quod de sapientibus alter
Ridebat, quoties à limine moverat unum
Protuleratque pedem: flebat contrarius alter?
Jur. Sat. x. 9.

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