"Old Shakespeare's days could not thus far advance;
But what's his buskin to our ladder-dance?
In the mid region a silk youth to stand,
With that unwieldy engine at command."
[308] Christopher Rich, who was forcibly expelled by Collier, by the aid of a hired rabble. According to an affidavit of Collier's, dated January 8, 1710, "On or about the 22nd of November, it being a day of public rejoicing, he ordered a bonfire to be made before the play-house door, and gave the actors money to drink your Majesty's health ... and that he came that evening to the play-house and showed the players Sir John Stanley's letter, and told them they might act as soon as they pleased, for that he had the Queen's leave to employ them. Upon which the players themselves and some soldiers got into the play-house, and the next day performed a play, but not the play that was given out, for Rich had carried away the clothes."
[309] Because it recalled the name of Jeremy Collier, who began his attack on the immorality of the stage in 1698.
[310] No. 96.
[311] See No. 96.
[No. 100. [Addison.]
From Saturday, Nov. 26, to Tuesday, Nov. 29, 1709.
Jam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna.—Virg., Eclog. iv. 6.
Sheer Lane, Nov. 28.
I was last week taking a solitary walk in the garden of Lincoln's Inn (a favour that is indulged me by several of the benchers who are my intimate friends, and grown old with me in this neighbourhood), when, according to the nature of men in years who have made but little progress in the advancement of their fortune or their fame, I was repining at the sudden rise of many persons who are my juniors, and indeed at the unequal distribution of wealth, honour, and all other blessings of life. I was lost in this thought when the night came upon me, and drew my mind into a far more agreeable contemplation. The heaven above me appeared in all its glories, and presented me with such a hemisphere of stars, as made the most agreeable prospect imaginable to one who delights in the study of nature. It happened to be a freezing night, which had purified the whole body of air into such a bright transparent æther, as made every constellation visible; and at the same time gave such a particular glowing to the stars, that I thought it the richest sky I had ever seen. I could not behold a scene so wonderfully adorned and lighted up (if I may be allowed that expression) without suitable meditations on the Author of such illustrious and amazing objects. For on these occasions, philosophy suggests motives to religion, and religion adds pleasures to philosophy. As soon as I had recovered my usual temper and serenity of soul, I retired to my lodgings with the satisfaction of having passed away a few hours in the proper employments of a reasonable creature, and promising myself that my slumbers would be sweet. I no sooner fell into them, but I dreamed a dream, or saw a vision (for I know not which to call it), that seemed to rise out of my evening meditation, and had something in it so solemn and serious that I cannot forbear communicating it; though I must confess, the wildness of imagination (which in a dream is always loose and irregular) discovers itself too much in several parts of it. Methoughts I saw the same azure sky diversified with the same glorious luminaries which had entertained me a little before I fell asleep. I was looking very attentively on that sign in the heavens which is called by the name of the Balance, when on a sudden there appeared in it an extraordinary light, as if the sun should rise at midnight. By its increasing in breadth and lustre, I soon found that it approached towards the earth; and at length could discern something like a shadow hovering in the midst of a great glory, which in a little time after I distinctly perceived to be the figure of a woman. I fancied at first it might have been the angel or intelligence that guided the constellation from which it descended; but upon a nearer view, I saw about her all the emblems with which the goddess of Justice is usually described. Her countenance was unspeakably awful and majestic, but exquisitely beautiful to those whose eyes were strong enough to behold it; her smiles transported with rapture, her frowns terrified to despair. She held in her hand a mirror, endowed with the same qualities as that which the painters put into the hand of Truth. There streamed from it a light, which distinguished itself from all the splendours that surrounded her, more than a flash of lightning shines in the midst of daylight. As she moved it in her hand, it brightened the heavens, the air, or the earth. When she had descended so low as to be seen and heard by mortals, to make the pomp of her appearance more supportable, she threw darkness and clouds about her, that tempered the light into a thousand beautiful shades and colours, and multiplied that lustre, which was before too strong and dazzling, into a variety of milder glories.