[Footnote 3: is]
[Footnote 4: Dominique Bouhours, a learned and accomplished Jesuit, who
died in 1702, aged 75, was a Professor of the Humanities, in Paris, till
the headaches by which he was tormented until death compelled him to
resign his chair. He was afterwards tutor to the two young Princes of
Longueville, and to the son of the minister Colbert. His best book was
translated into English in 1705, as
'The Art of Criticism: or the Method of making a Right Judgment upon
Subjects of Wit and Learning. Translated from the best Edition of the
_French_, of the Famous Father Bouhours, by a Person of Quality. In
Four Dialogues.'
Here he says:
'Truth is the first Quality, and, as it were, the foundation of
Thought; the fairest is the faultiest, or, rather, those which pass
for the fairest, are not really so, if they want this Foundation ... I
do not understand your Doctrine, replies Philanthus, and I can scarce
persuade myself that a witty Thought should be always founded on
Truth: On the contrary, I am of the opinion of a famous Critic (i.e.
Vavassor in his book on Epigrams) that Falsehood gives it often all
its Grace, and is, as it were, the Soul of it,'
&c., pp, 6, 7, and the following.]
[Footnote 5: As in the lines
_Tout doit tendre au Bon Sens: mais pour y parvenir
Le chemin est glissant et penible a tenir._
'Art. Poétique', chant 1.
And again,
_Aux dépens du Bon Sens gardez de plaisanter._
'Art. Poétique', chant 3.]
[Footnote 6: Dedication of his translation of the 'Æneid' to Lord
Normanby, near the middle; when speaking of the anachronism that made
Dido and Æneas contemporaries.]
[Footnote 7: Jean Regnauld de Segrais, b. 1624, d. 1701, was of Caen,
where he was trained by Jesuits for the Church, but took to Literature,
and sought thereby to support four brothers and two sisters, reduced to
want by the dissipations of his father. He wrote, as a youth, odes,
songs, a tragedy, and part of a romance. Attracting, at the age of 20,
the attention of a noble patron, he became, in 1647, and remained for
the next 24 years, attached to the household of Mlle. de Montpensier. He
was a favoured guest among the _Précieuses_ of the _Hotel Rambouillet_,
and was styled, for his acquired air of _bon ton_, the Voiture of Caen.
In 1671 he was received by Mlle. de La Fayette. In 1676 he married a
rich wife, at Caen, his native town, where he settled and revived the
local 'Academy.' Among his works were translations into French verse of
the 'Æneid' and 'Georgics'. In the dedication of his own translation of
the 'Æneid' by an elaborate essay to Lord Normanby, Dryden refers much,
and with high respect, to the dissertation prefixed by Segrais to his
French version, and towards the end (on p. 80 where the essay occupies
100 pages), writes as above quoted. The first parenthesis is part of the
quotation.]
[Footnote 8: "would not break the thread of this discourse without;" and
an ERRATUM appended to the next Number says, 'for _without_ read
_with_.']
* * * * *
No. 63. Saturday, May 12, 1711. Addison.
'Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam
Jungere si velit et varías inducere plumas
Undique collatis membris, ut turpiter atrum
Desinat in piscem mulier formosa supernè;
Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici?
Credite, Pisones, isti tabulæ fore librum
Persimilem, cujus, velut ægri somnia, vanæ
Finguntur species ...'
Hor.
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
themselves into all the Figures and Countermarches of the most
changeable and perplexed Exercise.
Not far from these was a Body of _Acrosticks_, made up of very
disproportioned Persons. It was disposed into three Columns, the
Officers planting themselves in a Line on the left Hand of each Column.
The Officers were all of them at least Six Foot high, and made three
Rows of very proper Men; but the Common Soldiers, who filled up the
Spaces between the Officers, were such Dwarfs, Cripples, and Scarecrows,
that one could hardly look upon them without laughing. There were behind
the _Acrosticks_ two or three Files of _Chronograms_, which differed
only from the former, as their Officers were equipped (like the Figure
of Time) with an Hour-glass in one Hand, and a Scythe in the other, and
took their Posts promiscuously among the private Men whom they
commanded.
In the Body of the Temple, and before the very Face of the Deity,
methought I saw the Phantom of _Tryphiodorus_ the _Lipogrammatist_,
engaged in a Ball with four and twenty Persons, who pursued him by Turns
thro' all the Intricacies and Labyrinths of a Country Dance, without
being able to overtake him.
Observing several to be very busie at the Western End of the _Temple_, I
inquired into what they were doing, and found there was in that Quarter
the great Magazine of _Rebus's_. These were several Things of the most
different Natures tied up in Bundles, and thrown upon one another in
heaps like Faggots. You might behold an Anchor, a Night-rail, and a
Hobby-horse bound up together. One of the Workmen seeing me very much
surprized, told me, there was an infinite deal of Wit in several of
those Bundles, and that he would explain them to me if I pleased; I
thanked him for his Civility, but told him I was in very great haste at
that time. As I was going out of the Temple, I observed in one Corner of
it a Cluster of Men and Women laughing very heartily, and diverting
themselves at a Game of _Crambo_. I heard several _Double Rhymes_ as I
passed by them, which raised a great deal of Mirth.
Not far from these was another Set of merry People engaged at a
Diversion, in which the whole Jest was to mistake one Person for
another. To give Occasion for these ludicrous Mistakes, they were
divided into Pairs, every Pair being covered from Head to Foot with the
same kind of Dress, though perhaps there was not the least Resemblance
in their Faces. By this means an old Man was sometimes mistaken for a
Boy, a Woman for a Man, and a Black-a-moor for an _European_, which very
often produced great Peals of Laughter. These I guessed to be a Party of
_Punns_. But being very desirous to get out of this World of Magick,
which had almost turned my Brain, I left the Temple, and crossed over
the Fields that lay about it with all the Speed I could make. I was not
gone far before I heard the Sound of Trumpets and Alarms, which seemed
to proclaim the March of an Enemy; and, as I afterwards found, was in
reality what I apprehended it. There appeared at a great Distance a very
shining Light, and, in the midst of it, a Person of a most beautiful
Aspect; her Name was TRUTH. On her right Hand there marched a Male
Deity, who bore several Quivers on his Shoulders,--and grasped several
Arrows in his Hand. His Name was _Wit_. The Approach of these two
Enemies filled all the Territories of _False Wit_ with an unspeakable
Consternation, insomuch that the Goddess of those Regions appeared in
Person upon her Frontiers, with the several inferior Deities, and the
different Bodies of Forces which I had before seen in the Temple, who
were now drawn up in Array, and prepared to give their Foes a warm
Reception. As the March of the Enemy was very slow, it gave time to the
several Inhabitants who bordered upon the _Regions_ of FALSEHOOD to draw
their Forces into a Body, with a Design to stand upon their Guard as
Neuters, and attend the Issue of the Combat.
I must here inform my Reader, that the Frontiers of the Enchanted
Region, which I have before described, were inhabited by the Species of
MIXED WIT, who made a very odd Appearance when they were mustered
together in an Army. There were Men whose Bodies were stuck full of
Darts, and Women whose Eyes were Burning-glasses: Men that had Hearts of
Fire, and Women that had Breasts of Snow. It would be endless to
describe several Monsters of the like Nature, that composed this great
Army; which immediately fell asunder and divided itself into two Parts,
the one half throwing themselves behind the Banners of TRUTH, and the
others behind those of FALSEHOOD.
The Goddess of FALSEHOOD was of a Gigantick Stature, and advanced some
Paces before the Front of her Army: but as the dazling Light, which
flowed from TRUTH, began to shine upon her, she faded insensibly;
insomuch that in a little Space she looked rather like an huge Phantom,
than a real Substance. At length, as the Goddess of TRUTH approached
still nearer to her, she fell away entirely, and vanished amidst the
Brightness of her Presence; so that there did not remain the least Trace
or Impression of her Figure in the Place where she had been seen.
As at the rising of the Sun the Constellations grow thin, and the Stars
go out one after another, till the whole Hemisphere is extinguished;
such was the vanishing of the Goddess: And not only of the Goddess her
self, but of the whole Army that attended her, which sympathized with
their Leader, and shrunk into Nothing, in proportion as the Goddess
disappeared. At the same time the whole Temple sunk, the Fish betook
themselves to the Streams, and the wild Beasts to the Woods: The
Fountains recovered their Murmurs, the Birds their Voices, the Trees
their Leaves, the Flowers their Scents, and the whole Face of Nature its
true and genuine Appearance. Tho' I still continued asleep, I fancied my
self as it were awakened out of a Dream, when I saw this Region of
Prodigies restored to Woods and Rivers, Fields and Meadows.
Upon the removal of that wild Scene of Wonders, which had very much
disturbed my Imagination, I took a full Survey of the Persons of WIT and
TRUTH; for indeed it was impossible to look upon the first, without
seeing the other at the same time. There was behind them a strong and
compact Body of Figures. The Genius of _Heroic Poetry_ appeared with a
Sword in her Hand, and a Lawrel on her Head. _Tragedy_ was crowned with
Cypress, and covered with Robes dipped in Blood. _Satyr_ had Smiles in
her Look, and a Dagger under her Garment. _Rhetorick_ was known by her
Thunderbolt; and _Comedy_ by her Mask. After several other Figures,
_Epigram_ marched up in the Rear, who had been posted there at the
Beginning of the Expedition, that he might not revolt to the Enemy, whom
he was suspected to favour in his Heart. I was very much awed and
delighted with the Appearance of the God of _Wit_; there was something
so amiable and yet so piercing in his Looks, as inspired me at once with
Love and Terror. As I was gazing on him, to my unspeakable Joy, he took
a Quiver of Arrows from his Shoulder, in order to make me a Present of
it; but as I was reaching out my Hand to receive it of him, I knocked it
against a Chair, and by that means awaked.