writers. I would fain have satisfied my curiosity a little further; but suddenly a murmur of people taiking diverted my attention. I observed a stately person, whom I knew to be Alfred the Great, not by the assistance of our historical engravers, but by certain associations in my own mind. He marched up, in a very dignified manner, to a large table, by the side of which there was a costly urn, decorated with hieroglyphical figures. Some attendants followed, and stood around him, as if to wait his commands; while he was seated upon a throne of some folio volumes magnificently bound, which I guessed to be the Cyclopedia. I was struck with awe at his imposing appearance, and shrunk behind a huge Atlas, peeping over it to see the ceremony.

A very great pile of books was presently laid upon the table; by which I rightly conjectured, that this first patron of English literature was about to enter on an inquisition of all the works which had appeared since his time. My curiosity was greatly inflamed, when I perceived that the object of this day's examination was the periodical works; and that, upon his taking up the top of the urn, there blazed out a clear bluish flame. I was amazed to see him throw the four volumes of the Tatler into the urn; and more so, when I observed enough only to compose three and a half come out again. After a little thought however on this phænomenon, it occurred to me, that this must be a purifying flame, which consumed only what was idle or immoral in the works committed to it.

Very few of the periodical essays lost any thing on the account of immorality; but the want of ori ginality, strength, or elegance, sunk a good deal in most of them. Ungrammatical sentences, repetitions, and false wit, supplied plenty of nourishment to the

flame; and all our late productions suffered much on this score. When the Rambler was thrown in, there was a terrible crackling noise; not a sentence however seemed to have been consumed, though many of them had lost a sounding word or two. A multitude of other productions of the same denomination went through the same ordeal. Some very voluminous essays were reduced to single duodecimos; some, from plump octavos, came out sixpenny pamphlets; of some there only survived a paper or two; of many there remained only their mottos; and some perished altogether. In the Spectator alone I could perceive no diminution of size: it came out with only the loss of its outside covers, which, happening to be of sheep-skin, were perhaps sacrificed as too ordinary for such a work. Its urbanity of criticism, its elegance of morality, its playfulness of allusion, and that humorous arrangement of words, which a breath might almost discompose, came out whole and untouched as the asbestos. At this instant a prodigious pile of News-papers and Magazines was thrown into the urn, which suddenly emitted such a fierce flame, accompanied with so black a smoke, that I imagined myself on the point ot being burned or suffocated, and could not for a long time see my hand before me.

As soon as the room was a little cleared, I perceived walking towards the table a grave old man, who resembled exactly the portrait of my greatgrandfather, the legislator of our family; and I thought I discovered in one hand the First Number of my work, and his favourite tobacco-stopper fast clenched in the other: he seemed to deliver it to the judge, who threw it into the inquisitorial flame. At that moment my apprehensions for the fate of my dear infant were so great, that I awoke

in the struggle, and was surprised to find myself in a crouching attitude, behind the back of my great chair; which I never see, without thinking of my old friend the Atlas: and even the tea-urn has never since made its appearance, without calling up a visible suffusion in my cheeks.

N° 3. SATURDAY, MARCH 17.

Πημα κακος γείτων ὅσον τ' αγαθος μεγ' ονειας.

HESIOD.

"It is hard to say which is the greater, the inconvenience of a bad neighbour, or the advantage of a good one."

WE are told, that Themistocles, having a farm to dispose of, took particular care to make it known that it had the advantage of a good neighbour; considering this as a circumstance that would greatly recommend it. I am so strongly of this opinion myself, that I regard it as the most fortunate occurrence of my life that I am surrounded by a worthy set of parishioners, who all study to make my residence among them the most agreeable in the world. It is true, indeed, I had the advantage of succeeding to a rector, who was not of the same contented turn, and was more frequently at issue with his brethren on a point of law than a point of doctrine. My placid temper was no sooner discovered, than it gained me the hearts of most of my flock; and I observe that this friendly disposition towards me is hourly im

proving in them, as they find that they can reckon upon a continuance of this content and tranquillity on my part.

I have often thought that a small augmentation of tithes is dearly purchased by the sacrifice of this mutual cordiality and confidence. There is something in the consciousness that others share our joys and enter into our feelings, and that our health and happiness are a real concern to our neighbours, which cherishes the soul and seems to dilate its capacities. I glow with satisfaction, when, after some days' confinement, I see sincere congratulations in the looks of every one I meet: methinks at that moment I love myself the more for their sakes; and the delight of my honest parishioners is multiplied into my own.

We

Since I have been settled here, we have been gradually forming ourselves into a society that has something novel in its principle and constitution. Our number is sixteen, and includes many of the principal gentlemen in the neighbourhood. have a discipline among us, the object of which is, to promote the ends of company and conversation, by maintaining the most perfect order, sobriety, and peace. My quiet behaviour, and known habits of complacency, have raised me, though with some reluctance on my part, to the place of perpetual president.

The fundamental article of our constitution, is the prohibition of every species of noise; for, as long as this is inadmissible, we think ourselves out of all danger of quarrelling, from which a degree of noise is inseparable: and though nonsense is not statutable among us, yet we are not afraid of its going to any great lengths under the evident disadvantages of order and tranquillity. There is a certain

severity in silence, which will often check the course of an idle argument, when opposition and ridicule are employed in vain. I remember hearing a plethoric young man run on with surprising volubility for an hour and a half, by the help only of two ideas, during the violence of a debate; till a sudden pause in the rest of the company proved clearly that he was talking about a matter which bore no relation to the point in dispute. The attention of the company being now wholly turned towards him, he began to totter under the mass of confusion he had so long been accumulating; when with one spring he cleared the present difficulty, and leaped from Seringapatam into the minister's budget: here, however, being nearly smothered, he made a violent effort; and before we could turn about to assist him, he was up to his neck in tar-water. He was twice, after this, in danger of being lost in the Southern Ocean; but an African slave-vessel took him up each time, and landed him, some how or other, at Nootka Sound. If I remember right, he held out till the siege of Oczakow, where he was put out of his misery by a summons from Tartary to the tea-table. Thus a great deal of precious time is husbanded by this rule of silent attention among the members of our society; and many an idle speech falls to the ground ere it can get three sentences forwards, and is strangled like a Turkish criminal by dumb executioners.

Any elevation of voice above a certain pitch is highly illegal, and punishable accordingly; and to ascertain this proportion as duly as possible, we have taken a room for our purpose, in which there is a very distinct echo, which must not be roused from its dormant state, under very heavy penalties. Any man provoking it to repeat his last word, is judged to be defeated in the argument he is maintaining, and