Letter No. 514. Monday, October 20, [1] 1712. Steele.
'Me Parnassi deserta per ardua, dulcis
Raptat Amor; juvat ire jugis qua nulla priorum
Castaliam molle divertitur Orbita Clivo.'
Virg.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
'I came home a little later than usual the other Night, and not
finding my self inclined to sleep, I took up Virgil to divert me
till I should be more disposed to Rest. He is the Author whom I always
chuse on such Occasions, no one writing in so divine, so harmonious,
nor so equal a Strain, which leaves the Mind composed, and softened
into an agreeable Melancholy; the Temper in which, of all others, I
chuse to close the Day. The Passages I turned to were those beautiful
Raptures in his Georgicks, where he professes himself entirely given
up to the Muses, and smit with the Love of Poetry, passionately
wishing to be transported to the cool Shades and Retirements of the
Mountain Haemus. I clos'd the Book and went to Bed. What I had just
before been reading made so strong an Impression on my Mind, that
Fancy seemed almost to fulfil to me the Wish of Virgil, in
presenting to me the following Vision.
'Methought I was on a sudden plac'd in the Plains of Boeotia, where
at the end of the Horizon I saw the Mountain Parnassus rising before
me. The Prospect was of so large an Extent, that I had long wander'd
about to find a Path which should directly lead me to it, had I not
seen at some distance a Grove of Trees, which in a Plain that had
nothing else remarkable enough in it to fix my Sight, immediately
determined me to go thither. When I arrived at it, I found it parted
out into a great Number of Walks and Alleys, which often widened into
beautiful Openings, as Circles or Ovals, set round with Yews and
Cypresses, with Niches, Grotto's, and Caves placed on the Sides,
encompassed with Ivy. There was no Sound to be heard in the whole
Place, but only that of a gentle Breeze passing over the Leaves of the
Forest, every thing beside was buried in a profound Silence. I was
captivated with the Beauty and Retirement of the Place, and never so
much, before that Hour, was pleased with the Enjoyment of my self. I
indulged the Humour, and suffered my self to wander without Choice or
Design. At length, at the end of a Range of Trees, I saw three Figures
seated on a Bank of Moss, with a silent Brook creeping at their Feet.
I ador'd them as the tutelar Divinities of the Place, and stood still
to take a particular View of each of them. The Middlemost, whose Name
was Solitude, sat with her Arms across each other, and seemed rather
pensive and wholly taken up with her own Thoughts, than any ways
grieved or displeased. The only Companions which she admitted into
that Retirement, was the Goddess Silence, who sat on her right Hand
with her Finger on her Mouth, and on her left Contemplation, with
her Eyes fixed upon the Heavens. Before her lay a celestial Globe,
with several Schemes of Mathematical Theorems. She prevented my Speech
with the greatest Affability in the World: Fear not, said she, I know
your Request before you speak it; you would be led to the Mountain of
the Muses; the only way to it lies thro' this Place, and no one is so
often employ'd in conducting Persons thither as my self. When she had
thus spoken, she rose from her Seat, and I immediately placed my self