The ideas which strike the fancy arise in us without our choice, either from the occurrences of the day past, the temper we lie down in, or it may be the direction of some superior being. It is certain the imagination may be so differently 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 conformable 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. My readers, by applying these hints, will find the necessity of making a good day of it, if they heartily wish themselves a good night. I have often considered Marcia's prayer, and Lucia's account of Cato, in this light. Marc. O ye mortal powers, that guard the just, Luc. Sweet are the slumbers of the virtuous man! I saw him stretch'd at ease, his fancy lost Mr. Shadow acquaints me in a postscript, that he has no manner of title to the vision which succeeded his first letter; but adds, that, as the gentleman who wrote it dreams very sensibly, he shall be glad to meet him some night or other under the great elmtree, by which Virgil has given us a fine metaphorical image of sleep, in order to turn over a few of the leaves together, and oblige the public with an account of the dreams that lie under them. not, in some degree, guilty of this offence; though at the same time, however, we treat one another, it must be confessed, that we all consent in speaking ill of the persons who are notorious for this practice. It generally takes its rise either from an ill-will to mankind, a private inclination to make ourselves esteemed, an ostentation of wit, a vanity of being thought in the secrets of the world, or from a desire of gratifying any of these dispositions of mind in those persons with whom we converse. The publisher of scandal is more or less odious to mankind, and criminal in himself, as he is influenced by any one or more of the foregoing motives. But, whatever may be the occasion of spreading these false reports, he ought to consider that the effect of them is equally prejudicial and pernicious to the person at whom they are aimed. The injury is the same, though the principle from which it proceeds may be different. 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. First of all, Let him consider whether he does not take delight in hearing the faults of others. Secondly, Whether he is not too apt to believe such little blackening accounts, and more inclined to be credulous on the uncharitable than on the good-natured side. 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 proceeds and grows up into slander and defamation. In the first place, a man who takes delight in hearing the faults of others, shows sufficiently that he has a true relish of scandal, and consequently the seeds of this vice No. 594.] Wednesday, September 15, 1714. within him. If his mind is gratified with -Absentem qui rodit amicum; Qui non defendit alio culpante; solutos Hor. Sat. iv. Lib. 1. 81. He that shall rail against his absent friends, Creech. WERE all the vexations of life put together, we should find that a great part of them proceeds from those calumnies and reproaches which we spread abroad concerning one another. There is scarce a man living, who is 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 naturally imagine every one he converses with is delighted in the same manner with himself. A man should endeavour, therefore, to wear out of his mind this criminal curiosity, which is perpetually heightened and inflamed by listening to such stories as tend to the disreputation of others In the second place, a man should consult his own heart, whether he be not apt to believe such little blackening accounts, and more inclined to be credulous on the uncharitable than on the good-natured side. Such a credulity is very vicious in itself, and generally arises from a man's conscious ness of his own secret corruptions. It is a | I mean is the mixture of inconsistent metapretty saying of Thales, 'Falsehood is just phors, which is a fault but too often found as far distant from truth as the ears are in learned writers, but in all the unlearned from the eyes. By which he would inti- without exception. mate, that a wise man should not easily give credit to the report of actions which he has not seen. I shall, under this head, mention two or three remarkable rules to be observed by the members of the celebrated Abbey de la Trappe, as they are published in a little French book.† 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 comThe fathers are there ordered never to pared to several things if considered in segive an ear to any accounts of base or crimi- veral distinct lights; or, in other words, the nal actions; to turn off all such discourse if same thing may be expressed by different possible; but, in case they hear any thing metaphors. But the mischief is, that an of this nature so well attested that they unskilful author shall run these metaphors cannot disbelieve it, they are then to sup- so absurdly into one another, that there pose that the criminal action may have pro- shall be no simile, no agreeable picture, no ceeded from a good intention in him who is apt resemblance, but confusion, obscurity, guilty of it. This is, perhaps, carrying and noise. Thus I have known a hero comCharity to an extravagance; but it is cer-pared to a thunderbolt, a lion, and the sea; tainly much more laudable than to suppose, as the ill-natured part of the world does, that different and even good actions proceed from bad principles and wrong intentions. 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 malinity, it discovers itse. In its worst sympton, and is in danger of becoming incurable. I need therefore insist upon the guilt in this last particular, which every one cannot but disprove, who is not void of humanity, or even common discretion. I shall only add, that, whatever pleasure any man may take in spreading whispers of this nature, he will find an infinitely greater satisfaction in con quering the temptation he is under, by letting the secret die within his own breast, No. 595.] Friday, September 17, 1714. Forbid to reconcile antipathies; Roscommon. IF ordinary authors would condescend t write as they think, they would at least be allowed the praise of being intelligible. But they really take pains to be ridiculous: and, by the studied ornaments of style, perfectly disguise the little sense they aim at. There is a grievance of this sort in the cornmonwealth of letters, which I have for some time resolved to redress, and accordingly I have set this day apart for justice. What *Stobæi Serm. 61. all and each of them proper metaphors for impetuosity, courage, or force. But by bad management it hath so happened, that the thunderbolt hath overflowed its banks, the lion hath been darted through the skies, and the billows have rolled out of the Libyan desert. The absurdity, in this instance, is obvious. And yet every time that clashing meta phors are put together, this fault is com mitted more or less. It hath already been said, that metaphors 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 rest. It is no less an impropriety to make any being in nature or art to do things in its metaphorical state, which it could not do in its original. I shall illustrate what I have said by an instance which I have read more than once in controversial writers. The heavy lashes,' saith a celebrated author, 'that have dropped from your pen, &c.' I suppose this gentleman, having frequently heard of gall dropping from a pen, and being lashed 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 discover the absurdity of these monstrous unions, if we will suppose these metaphors or images actually painted. Imagine then a hand holding a pen, and several lashes of whipcord falling from it, and you have the true representation of this sort of eloquence. I believe, by this very rule, a reader may be able to judge of the union of all metaphors whatsoever, and determine which are homogeneous, and which heterogeneous; or, to speak more plainly, which are consistent and which inconsistent. There is yet one evil more which I must take notice of, and that is the running of metaphors into tedious allegories; which, though an error on the better hand, causes Felibien, Description de l'Abbaye de la Trappe, confusion as much as the other. This be Paris, 1671; reprinted in 1682. It is a letter of M. Fi bien to the dutchess of Lancourt. comes abominable, when the lustre of one word leads a writer out of his road, and been pleased to lay it down as a maxim, makes him wander from his subject for a that nothing spoils a young fellow's fortune page together. I remember a young fel- so much as marrying early; and that no low of this turn, who, having said by chance man ought to think of wedlock until sixthat his mistress had a world of charms, and-twenty. Knowing his sentiments upon thereupon took occasion to consider her as this head, I thought it in vain to apply myone possessed of frigid and torrid zones, self to women of condition, who expect setand pursued her from one pole to the other. tlements; so that all my amours have I shall conclude this paper with a letter hitherto been with ladies who had no forwritten in that enormous style, which Itunes: but I know not how to give you so hope my reader hath by this time set his good an idea of me, as by laying before you heart against. The epistle hath hereto- the history of my life. fore received great applause; but after what hath been said, let any man commend it if he dare. 'I can very well remember, that at my school-mistress's, whenever we broke up, I was always for joining myself with the 'SIR,-After the many heavy lashes that the first to make a party in the play of miss who lay-in, and was constantly one of have fallen from your pen, you may justly Husband and Wife. This passion for beexpect in return all the load that my ink can lay upon your shoulders. You have ing well with the females still increased as I advanced in years. At the dancing-school quartered all the foul language upon me I contracted so many quarrels by struggling that could be raked out of the air of Bil-with my fellow-scholars for the partner I linsgate, without knowing who I am, or whether I deserved to be cupped and sacrificed at this rate. I tell you, once for all, turn your eyes where you please, you shall never smell me out. Do you think that the panicks, which you sow about the parish, will ever build a monument to your glory? No, sir, you may fight these battles as long as you will, but when you come to balance the account you will find that you have been fishing in troubled waters, and that an ignis fatuus hath bewildered you, and that indeed you have built upon a sandy foundation, and brought your hogs to a fair market. I am, sir, yours, &c.' liked best, that upon a ball-night, before our mothers made their appearance, I was usually up to the nose in blood. My father, like a discreet man, soon removed me from this stage of softness to a school of discipline, where I learnt Latin and Greek. I until it was thought convenient to send me underwent several severities in this place, to the university: though to confess the truth, I should not have arrived so early at that seat of learning, but from the discovery of an intrigue between me and my master's housekeeper; upon whom I had employed my rhetoric 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 of giving attention to the dead, I soon fell to addressing the living. My first amour was with a pretty girl whom I shall call Parthenope: her mother sold ale by the town-wall. I Being often caught there by the proctor, was forced at last, that my mistress's reputation might receive no blemish, to confess my addresses were honourable. Upon this I was immediately sent home; but Parthenope soon 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 I was sent away, or, in the university phrase, rusticated for ever. 'Middle-Temple, Sept. 18. 'SIR,-I am fully convinced that there is not upon earth a more impertinent creature than an importunate lover. We are daily complaining of the severity of our fate to people who are wholly unconcerned in it: and hourly improving a passion, which we would persuade the world is the torment of our lives. Notwithstanding this reflection, sir, I cannot forbear acquainting you with my own case. You 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 present in the one-and-twentieth year of my age; and should have made choice of a she-bedfellow many years since, had not my father, who has a pretty good estate of his own getting, * A pole was the common sign of a barber's shop. It and passes in the world for a prudent man, is now seldom seen in the metropolis. 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 Tem- | to all manner of dangers for her sake and ple. 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 mighty pretty creature, who had every thing but money to recommend her. Hav- Another, who is very prolix in his naring frequent opportunities of uttering all the rative, writes me word, that having sent a soft things which a heart formed for love venture beyond sea, he took occasion one could inspire me with, I soon gained her night to fancy himself gone along with it, consent to treat of marriage; but, unfor- and grown on a sudden the richest man in tunately for us all, in the absence of my all the Indies. Having been there about a charmer I usually talked the same language year or two, a gust of wind that forced open to her eldest sister, who is also very pretty. his casement, blew him over to his native Now I assure you, Mr. Spectator, this did country again, where, awaking at six not proceed from any real affection I had o'clock, and the change of the air not conceived for her: but, being a perfect agreeing with him, he turned to his left side stranger to the conversation of men, and in order to a second voyage; but before he strongly addicted to associate with the could get on ship-board was unfortunately women, I knew no other language but that apprehended for stealing a horse, tried and of love. I should, however, be very much condemned for the fact, and in a fair way obliged to you, if you could free me from of being executed, if somebody stepping the perplexity I am at present in. I have hastily into his chamber had not brought sent word to my old gentleman in the coun-him a reprieve. This fellow too wants try, that I am desperately in love with the younger sister; and her father, who knew no better, poor man, acquainted him by the same post, that I had for some time made my addresses to the elder. Upon this old Testy sends me up word, that he has heard so much of my exploits, that he intends immediately to order me to the South-sea. Sir, I have occasionally talked so much of dying, that I begin to think there is not much in it; and if the old 'squire persists in his design, I do hereby give him notice that I am providing myself with proper instruments for the destruction of despairing lovers: let him therefore look to it, and consider that by his obstinacy he may himself lose the son of his strength, the world a hopeful lawyer, my mistress a passionate lover, and you, Mr. Spectator, your constant admirer, "JEREMIAH LOVEMORE.’ Mr. Shadow's advice; who, I dare say, would bid him be content to rise after his first nap, and learn to be satisfied as soon as nature is. The next is a public-spirited gentleman, who tells me, that on the second of September, 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 far. He would be informed whether he has not a right to petition the lord mayor and aldermen for a reward. A letter, dated September the ninth, ac-quaints me, that the writer, being resolved to try his fortune, had fasted all that day; and, that he might be sure of dreaming upon something at night, procured a handsome slice of bride-cake, which he placed very conveniently under his pillow. In the morning his memory happened to fail him, No. 597.] Wednesday, September 22, 1714. and he could recollect nothing but an odd -Mens sine pondere ludit.-Petr. The mind uncumber'd plays. SINCE I received my friend Shadow's letter, several of my correspondents have been pleased to send me an account how they have been employed in sleep, and what notable adventures 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. 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 fancy that he had eaten his cake; which being found upon search reduced to a few crumbs, he is resolved to remember more of his dreams another time, believing from this that there may possibly be somewhat of truth in them. I have received numerous complaints from several delicious dreamers, desiring me to invent some method of silencing those noisy slaves, whose occupations lead them to take their early rounds about the city in a morning, doing a deal of mischief, and working strange confusion in the affairs of its inhabitants. Several monarchs have done me the honour to acquaint me how often they have been shook from their respective thrones by the rattling of a coach, or the rumbling of a wheelbarrow. And many private gentlemen, I find, have been bawled out of vast estates by fellows not worth three pence. A fair lady was just on the point of being married to a young, a cloven foot and a strong smell of brimstone, which last proved a bottle of spirits, which a good old lady applied to her nose, to put her in a condition of hearing the preacher's third head concerning time. handsome, rich, ingenious nobleman, when | of the audience were enjoying the benefit an impertinent tinker passing by forbid the of an excellent discourse, was losing her bans; and a hopeful youth who had been money and jewels to a gentleman at play, newly advanced to great honour and pre- until after a strange run of ill-luck she was ferment, was forced by a neighbouring cob- reduced to pawn three lovely pretty chilbler to resign all for an old song. It has dren for her last stake. When she had been represented to me, that those inconsi-thrown them away, her companion went derable rascals do nothing but go about dis-off, discovering himself by his usual tokens, solving of marriages, and spoiling of fortunes, impoverishing rich, and ruining great people, interrupting beauties in the midst of their conquests, and generals in the course of their victories. A boisterous peripatetic hardly goes through a street without waking half a dozen kings and princes, to open their shops or clean shoes, frequently transforming sceptres into paring-shovels, and proclamations into 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 upon the Great Turk, routed him horse and foot, and was crowned lord of the universe in Constantinople: the conclusion of all his successes is, that on the 12th instant, about seven in the morning, his Imperial Majesty was deposed by a chimney- No. 598.] Friday, September 24, 1714. sweeper. On the other hand, I have epistolary testimonies of gratitude from many miserable people, who owe to this clamorous tribe frequent deliverances from great misfor tunes. A small-coal-man, by waking one of these distressed gentlemen, saved him from ten years' imprisonment. An honest watchman, bidding aloud 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 confesses 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 plagued a sober gentleman all night long with his impertinence, was silenced by a cinder-wench with a word speaking. Instead, therefore, of suppressing this order of mortals, I would propose it to my readers to make the best advantage of their morning salutations. A famous Macedonian prince, for fear of forgetting himself in the midst of his good fortune, had a youth to wait on him every morning, and bid him remember that he was a man. A citizen, who is waked by one of these criers, may regard him as a kind of remembrancer, come to admonish him that it is time to return to the circumstances he has overlooked 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. People may dream on as long as they please, but I shall take no notice of any imaginary adventures that do not happen while the sun is on this side the horizon. For which reason I stifle Fritilla's dream at church last Sunday, who, while the rest If a man has no mind to pass abruptly from his imagined to his real circumstances, he may employ himself a while in that new kind of observation which my oneirocritical correspondent has directed him to make of himself. Pursuing the imagination through all its extravagances, whether in sleeping or waking, is no improper method of correcting and bringing it to act in subordination to reason, so as to be delighted only with such objects as will affect it with pleasure when it is never so cool and sedate. Jamne igitur laudas, quod de sapientibus alter Will ye not now the pair of sages praise. Dryden. MANKIND may be divided into the merry and the serious, who both of them make a very good figure in the species so long as they keep their respective humours from degenerating into the neighbouring extreme: there being a natural tendency in the one to a melancholy moroseness, and in the other to a fantastic levity. The merry part of the world are very amiable, while they diffuse a cheerfulness through conversation at proper seasons and on proper occasions; but, on the contrary, a great grievance to society when they in fect every discourse with insipid mirth, and turn into ridicule such subjects as are not suited to it. For though laughter is looked upon by the philosophers as the property of reason, the excess of it has been always considered as the mark of folly. On the other side, seriousness has its beauty whilst it is attended with cheerfulness and humanity, and does not come in unseasonably to pall the good humour of those with whom we converse. These two sets of men, notwithstanding they each of them shine in their respective characters, are apt to bear a natural aversion and antipathy to one another. What is more usual than to hear men of serious tempers, and austere morals, enlarging upon the vanities and follies of the young and gay part of the species, while they look with a kind of horror upon such |