established rule of the drama, when it has made way for a much higher beauty than the obfervation of fuch a rule would have been. Those who have furveyed the noblest pieces of architecture and statuary, both ancient and modern, know very well that there are frequent deviations from art in the works of the greatest mafters, which have produced a much nobler effect than a more accurate and exact way of proceeding could have done. This often arifes from what the Italians call the guflo grande in thefe arts, which is what we call the fublime in writing. In the next place, our critics do not feem fenfible that there is more beauty in the works of a great genius, who is ignorant of the rules of art, than in thofe of a little genius who knows and obferves them. It is of these men of genius that Terence fpeaks, in oppofition to the little artificial cavillers of his time; Quorum æmulari exoptat negligentiam • Whofe negligence he would rather imitate than thefe mens obfcure diligence.' A critic may have the fame confolation in the ill fuccefs of his play as Dr. South tells us a physician has at the death of a patient, that he was killed fecundum artem. Our inimitable Shakspeare is a ftumbling-block to the whole tribe of thefe rigid critics. Who would not rather read one of his plays, where there is not a fingle rule of the ftage obferved, than any production Q 4 production of a modern critic, where there is not one of them violated! Shakspeare was indeed born with all the feeds of poetry, and may be compared to the ftone in Pyrrhus's ring, which, as Pliny tells us, had the figure of Apollo and the nine Mufes in the veins of it, produced by the fpontaneous hand of nature, without any help from art. * No 593. Monday, September 13, 1714. Quale per incertam lunam fub luce maligna VIRG. En. vi. 20. Thus wander travellers in woods by night, My d Y dreaming correfpondent Mr. SHADOW, has fent me a fecond letter, with several curious obfervations on dreams in general, and the method to render fleep improving: an extract of his letter will not, I prefume, be difagreeable to my readers. SIN INCE we have fo little time to fpare, that none of it may be loft, I fee no reason why we should neglect to examine thofe imaginaryfcenes we are prefented with in fleep, only because they have a lefs reality * By ADDISON, on the authority of Mr. Thomas Tickell. A in them than our waking meditations. • traveller would bring his judgment in quef'tion, who should despise the directions of his 6 6 6 6 map for want of real roads in it, because here ftands a dot inftead 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 fuch another landscape of life as that does of countries; and, though its appearances may seem strangely jumbled together, we may often observe such traces and footsteps of noble thoughts, as, if carefully purfued, might lead us into a proper path of action. There is so much rapture and ecftafy in our fancied blifs, and fomething fo difmal and fhocking in our fancied mifery, that, though the inactivity of the body has given occafion for calling fleep the image of death, the brifkness of the fancy affords us a ftrong intimation of fomething within us that can never die. I have wondered that Alexander the Great, who came into the world fufficiently dreamed of by his parents, and had himself a tolerable knack at dreaming, fhould often say that Sleep was one thing which made him sensible he was mortal.' I, who have not fuch fields ⚫ of action in the day-time to divert my attention from this matter, plainly perceive that in thofe operations of the mind, while the body is at reft, there is a certain vaftness of conception very fuitable to the capacity, and ⚫ demonstrative of the force of that divine part in in our compofition 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 fleep, his conquering this little globe would hardly be worth mentioning. I may affirm, without vanity, that, when I compare feveral actions in Quintus • Curtius with fome others in my own noctuary, I appear the greater hero of the two.' 6 I fhall close this fubject with obferving, that while we are awake we are at liberty to fix our thoughts on what we please, but in fleep we have not the command of them. The ideas which strike the fancy arise in us without our choice, either from the occurrences of the day paft, the temper we lie down in, or it may be the direction of fome fuperior being. It is certain the imagination may be fo differently affected in fleep, that our actions of the day might be either rewarded or punished with a little age of happiness or mifery. St. Austin was of opinion that, if in Paradife there was the fame viciffitude of fleeping and waking as in the present world, the dreams of its inhabitants would be very happy. And fo far at prefent are our dreams in our power, that they are generally conformable to our waking throughts, fo that it is not impoffible to convey ourfelves to a concert of mufic, the converfation of diftant friends, or any other entertainment which has been before lodged in the mind. My My readers, by applying these hints, will find the neceffity of making a good day of it, if they heartily with themselves a good night. I have often confidered Marcia's prayer, and Lucia's account of Cato, in this light. "Marc. O ye immortal powers, that guard the juft, "Watch round his couch, and foften his repofe, "Banish his forrows, and becalm his foul "With eafy dreams; remember all his virtues, "And fhew mankind that goodness is your care. "Luc. Sweet are the flumbers of the virtuous "man! "O Marcia, I have feen thy godlike father; "Some power invifible fupports his foul, "And bears it up in all its wonted greatness. "A kind refreshing fleep is fallen upon him: "I faw him ftretch'd at eafe, his fancy loft "In pleafing dreams; as I drew near his couch "He fmil'd and cry'd, Cæfar, thou canst not hurt me." Mr. Shadow acquaints me in a poftfcript, that he has no manner of title to the vifion which fucceeded his firft letter; but adds, that, as the gentleman who wrote it dreams very fenfibly, he fhall be glad to meet him fome night or other under the great elm-tree, by which Virgil has given us a fine metaphorical image of fleep, 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.* * By Mr. JOHN BYROM+ + See No. 586, No, 587, and No. 603, and Notes. No. 594. |