om 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 herself,
but of the whole army that attended her, which sympathised 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. Though I still continued asleep, I fancied
myself, 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 compact body
of figures. The genius of Heroic Poetry appeared with a sword in her
hand, and a laurel on her head. Tragedy was crowned with cypress, and
covered with robes dipped in blood. Satire had smiles in her look, and
a dagger under her garment. Rhetoric 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.

FRIENDSHIP.

_Nos duo turba sumus_.

OVID, _Met._ i. 355.

We two are a multitude.

One wou