The Spectator, Volume 1: Eighteenth-Century Periodical EssaysSteele, Richard, Sir
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The Spectator, Volume 1: Eighteenth-Century Periodical Essays
Steele, Richard, Sir
English essays -- 18th century -- Periodicals
It is very hard for the Mind to disengage it self from a Subject in
which it has been long employed. The Thoughts will be rising of
themselves from time to time, tho' we give them no Encouragement; as the
Tossings and Fluctuations of the Sea continue several Hours after the
Winds are laid.
It is to this that I impute my last Night's Dream or Vision, which
formed into one continued Allegory the several Schemes of Wit, whether
False, Mixed, or True, that have been the Subject of my late Papers.
Methoughts I was transported into a Country that was filled with
Prodigies and Enchantments, governed by the Goddess of FALSEHOOD,
entitled _the Region of False Wit_. There is nothing in the Fields, the
Woods, and the Rivers, that appeared natural. Several of the Trees
blossomed in Leaf-Gold, some of them produced Bone-Lace, and some of
them precious Stones. The Fountains bubbled in an Opera Tune, and were
filled with Stags, Wild-Boars, and Mermaids, that lived among the
Waters; at the same time that Dolphins and several kinds of Fish played
upon the Banks or took their Pastime in the Meadows. The Birds had many
of them golden Beaks, and human Voices. The Flowers perfumed the Air
with Smells of Incense, Amber-greese, and Pulvillios; [1] and were so
interwoven with one another, that they grew up in Pieces of Embroidery.
The Winds were filled with Sighs and Messages of distant Lovers. As I
was walking to and fro in this enchanted Wilderness, I could not forbear
breaking out into Soliloquies upon the several Wonders which lay before
me, when, to my great Surprize, I found there were artificial Ecchoes in
every Walk, that by Repetitions of certain Words which I spoke, agreed
with me, or contradicted me, in every thing I said. In the midst of my
Conversation with these invisible Companions, I discovered in the Centre
of a very dark Grove a monstrous Fabrick built after the _Gothick_
manner, and covered with innumerable Devices in that barbarous kind of
Sculpture. I immediately went up to it, and found it to be a kind of
Heathen Temple consecrated to the God of _Dullness_. Upon my Entrance I
saw the Deity of the Place dressed in the Habit of a Monk, with a Book
in one Hand and a Rattle in the other. Upon his right Hand was
_Industry_, with a Lamp burning before her; and on his left _Caprice_,
with a Monkey sitting on her Shoulder. Before his Feet there stood an
_Altar_ of a very odd Make, which, as I afterwards found, was shaped in
that manner to comply with the Inscription that surrounded it. Upon the
Altar there lay several Offerings of _Axes, Wings_, and _Eggs_, cut in
Paper, and inscribed with Verses. The Temple was filled with Votaries,
who applied themselves to different Diversions, as their Fancies
directed them. In one part of it I saw a Regiment of _Anagrams_, who
were continually in motion, turning to the Right or to the Left, facing
about, doubling their Ranks, shifting their Stations, and throwing
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