« EelmineJätka »
as not knowing how to invite them to reflec• tions full of shame and horror: but those that
will observe this rule, I promise them they • shall awake into health and cheerfulness, and
be capable of recounting with delight those
glorious moments, wherein the mind has • been indulging itself in such luxury of thought, « such noble
hurry of imagination. Suppose a 'man's going supperless to bed should intro• duce him to the table of some great prince or
other, where he shall be entertained with the • noblest marks of honour and plenty, and do 6 so much business after, that' he shall rise with
as good a stomach to his breakfast as if he • had fafted all night long: or suppose he should · fee his dearest friends remain all night in great
distreffes, which he could instantly have dis' engaged them from, could he have been con
tent to have gone to bed without the other bottle ; believe me these effects of fancy are no contemptible consequences of commanding or indulging one's appetite. • I forbear recommending my advice upon many
other accounts until I hear how you ' and your readers relish what I have already " said ; among whom, if there be
may pretend it is useless to them, because they never dream at all, there
may haps who do little else all day long. Were
every one as sensible as I am what happens "to him in his sleep, it would be no dispute
whether we pass so considerable a portion of
be others per
our time in the condition of stocks and stones,
or whether the foul were not perpetually at • work upon the principle of thought. How
ever, it is an honest endeavour of mine to persuade my countrymen to reap some advan
tage from fo many unregarded hours, and as • such you will encourage it.
· I shall conclude with giving you a sketch or two of my way
of proceeding. • If I have any business of confequence to do to-morrow,
I am scarce dropt asleep to-night
I • but I am in the midst of it; and when awake, • I consider the whole procession of the affair,
and get the advantage of the next day's expe• rience before the sun has risen upon it.
• There is scarcely a great post but what I « have some time or other been in; but
be• haviour while I was master of a college
pleases me so well, that whenever there is a province of that nature vacant I intend to step in as soon as I can. · I have done many things that would not pass examination, when I have had the art of • flying or being invisible; for which reason I
am glad I am not possessed of those extraordinary qualities.
Lastly, Mr. SPECTATOR, I have been a great correspondent of yours, and have read many of my letters in your Paper which I never wrote you.
have a mind I “ fhould really be so, I have got a parcel of • visions and other miscellanies in my noctuary,
• which I shall send you to enrich your Paper
occasions. I am, &c. Oxford, Aug. 20.
on proper occasions.
N° 587. Monday, August 30, 1714.
Intus, & in cute novi.
PERS. Sat. iii. 30. " I know thee to thy bottom; from within Thy shallow centre to the utmost skin.'
DRYDEN. HOUGH the author of the following
vision is unknown to me, I am apt to think it may be the work of that ingenious gentleman, who promised me, in the last Paper, some extracts out of his noctuary.
WAS the other day reading the life of
Mahomet. Among many other extravagancies, I find it recorded of that impostor,
• By Mr. John Byrom, commonly called Dr. Byrom, who was likewise the author of the letters in the next Paper, No. 587, and in No. 593. The public is indebted to the same ingenious writer for the beautiful pastoral poem in Spect. No. 603. See BIOGR. Brit. Vol. VI. part II. Art. BYROM, Spect. No. 593 and No. 603.
*** Just publihed, The Mausoleum, a Poem facred to the memory of her late Majesty Queen Anne. By Mr. Theobald. Price is.
-Terras Astræa reliquit. Ov.Met. * The third volume of Mr. Philips's translation of the Thousand and One Day's Persian Tales, which completes the whole, is in the press, and will soon be published. Spect, in folio. No. 585.
• that in the fourth year of his age the angel • Gabriel caught him up while he was among • his play-fellows; and, carrying him aside, cut
open his breast, plucked out his heart, and wrung out of it that black drop of blood, in
which, say the Turkish divines, is contained • the Fomes Peccati, so that he was free from • sin ever after. I immediately said to myself,
though this story be a fiction, a very good moral may be drawn from it, would every
man but apply it to himself, and endeavour " to squeeze out of his heart whatever sins or
ill qualities he finds in it.
with • this contemplation, I insensibly fell into a ' most pleasing slumber, when methought two
porters entered my chamber carrying a large . chest between them. After having set it • down in the middle of the room they de* parted. I immediately endeavoured to open · what was sent me, when a shape, like that . in which we paint our angels, appeared before
me, and forbade me. Inclosed, said he, are " the hearts of several of your friends and ac
quaintance; but, before you can be qualified to see and animadvert on the failings of others,
you must be pure yourself; whereupon he • drew out his incision knife, cut me open, took
out my heart, and began to squeeze it. I
was in a great confusion to see how many " things, which I had always cherished as virstues, issued out of my heart on this occasion. • In short, after it had been thoroughly squeez
ed, • ed, it looked like an empty bladder; when the
phantom, breathing a fresh particle of divine • air into it, restored it safe to its former repo' fitory; and, having sewed me up, we began to • examine the chest.
• The hearts were all enclosed in transparent • phials, and preserved in liquor which looked • like spirits of wine. The first which I cast
my eye upon I was afraid would have broke • the glass which contained it. It shot up and
down, with incredible swiftness, through the
liquor in which it swam, and very frequently • bounced against the side of the phial. The
fomes, or spot in the middle of it, was not large but of a red fiery colour, and seemed to « be the cause of these violent agitations. That,
says my instructor, is the heart of Tom Dread
nought, who behaved himself well in the • late wars, but has for these two years last past • been aiming at some post of honour to no
purpose. He is lately retired into the coun• try, where, quite choked up with spleen and • choler, he rails at better men than himself, • and will be for ever uneasy, because it is im
possible he should think his merits sufficiently rewarded. The next heart that I examined was remarkable for its smallness; it lay still at the bottom of the phial, and I could hardly perceive that it beat at all. The fomes was
quite black, and had almost diffused itself • over the whole heart. This, says my inter
preter, is the heart of Dick Gloomy, who never thirsted after any thing but money,