• 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 s 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 • 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 • distresses, which he could instantly have dif• 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 4 many other accounts until I hear how you " and your readers relish what I have already • faid; among whom, if there be any that may « pretend it is useless to them, because they I never dream at all, there may be others per• haps who do little else all day long. Were ' every one as sensible as I am what happens 6 to him in his sleep, it would be no dispute ' whether we pass lo considerable a portion of

• our

s our time in the condition of stocks and stones, • or whether the foul were not perpetually at • work upon the principle of thought. However, it is an honest endeavour of mine to • persuade my countrymen to reap fome advan• tage from lo many unregarded hours, and as • such you will encourage it.

I Thall conclude with giving you a sketch • or two of my way of proceeding.

• If I have any business of consequence to do

to-morrow, I am scarce dropt asleep to-night • but I am in the midst of it; and when awake, " I consider the while 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 my be. haviour while I was master of a college 6 pleases me so well, that whenever there is a

province of that nature yacant I intend to 6 step in as foon as I can.

• I have done many things that would not 5 pass examination, when I have had the art of • Aying or being invisible; for which reafon I • am glad I am not possessed of those extraordi“ nary 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. If you have a mind I • fhould really be fo, I have got a parcel of 6 visions and other miscellanies in my noctuary,

o which



· which I shall send you to enrich your Paper con proper occasions. I am, &c.

* Oxford, Aug. 20. John Shadow.'*

N° 587. Monday, August 30, 1714.

Intus, & in cute novi. Pers. Sat. jii. 30.
" I know thee to thy bottom; from within
« Thy shallow centre to the utmost skin.'

DRYDEN. THOUGH 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.

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6 SIR, "I WAS the other day reading the life of "I Mahomet. Among many other extrava

gancies, 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 published, The Mausoleum, a Poem facred to the memory of her late Majesty Queen Anne. By Mr. Theobald. Price is.

Terras Aftræa 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

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 6 the Fomes Peccati, so that he was free from « fin ever after. I immediately said to myself, 5 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

eze out of his heart whatever fins or ill qualities he finds in it. • While my mind was wholly taken up 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 6 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

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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 • sike 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 na • 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 5 perceive that it beat at all. The fomes was • quite black, and had almost diffused itself

over the whole heart. This, says my interpreter, is the heart of Dick Gloomy, who never thirsted after any thing but money,


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