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No. 577.  Friday, August 6, 1714.

  ’—­Hoc tolerabile, si non
  Et furere incipias—­’

  Juv.

The Letter mentioned in my last Paper is as follows.

  SIR,

’You have so lately decryed that Custom, too much in use among most People, of making themselves the Subjects of their Writings and Conversation, that I had some difficulty to perswade my self to give you this Trouble, till I had considered that tho’ I should speak in the First Person, yet I could not be justly charged with Vanity, since I shall not add my Name; as also, because what I shall write will not, to say the best, redound to my Praise; but is only designed to remove a Prejudice conceived against me, as I hope, with very little Foundation.  My short History is this.

I have lived for some Years last past altogether in London, till about a Month ago an Acquaintance of mine, for whom I have done some small Services in Town, invited me to pass part of the Summer with him at his House in the Country.  I accepted his Invitation, and found a very hearty Welcome.  My Friend, an honest plain Man, not being qualified to pass away his Time without the Reliefs of Business, has grafted the Farmer upon the Gentleman, and brought himself to submit even to the servile Parts of that Employment, such as inspecting his Plough, and the like.  This necessarily takes up some of his Hours every Day; and as I have no Relish for such Diversions, I used at these Times to retire either to my Chamber, or a shady Walk near the House, and entertain my self with some agreeable Author.  Now you must know, Mr. SPECTATOR, that when I read, especially if it be Poetry, it is very usual with me, when I meet with any Passage or Expression which strikes me much, to pronounce it aloud, with that Tone of the Voice which I think agreeable to the Sentiments there expressed; and to this I generally add some Motion or Action of the Body.  It was not long before I was observed by some of the Family in one of these heroick Fits, who thereupon received Impressions very much to my Disadvantage.  This however I did not soon discover, nor should have done probably, had it not been for the following Accident.  I had one Day shut my self up in my Chamber, and was very deeply engaged in the Second Book of Milton’s Paradise Lost. I walked to and fro with the Book in my Hand, and, to speak the Truth, I fear I made no little Noise; when presently coming to the following Lines,

’—­On a sudden open fly, With impetuous Recoil and jarring Sound, Th’ infernal Doors, and on their Hinges grate Harsh Thunder, &c.’

’I in great Transport threw open the Door of my Chamber, and found the greatest Part of the Family standing on the Out-side in a very great Consternation.  I was in no less Confusion, and begged Pardon for having disturbed them; addressing