At last we approached a Bower, at the Entrance of which Errour was seated.  The Trees were thick-woven, and the Place where he sat artfully contrived to darken him a little.  He was disguised in a whitish Robe, which he had put on, that he might appear to us with a nearer Resemblance to Truth: And as she has a Light whereby she manifests the Beauties of Nature to the Eyes of her Adorers, so he had provided himself with a magical Wand, that he might do something in Imitation of it, and please with Delusions.  This he lifted solemnly, and muttering to himself, bid the Glories which he kept under Enchantment to appear before us.  Immediately we cast our Eyes on that part of the Sky to which he pointed, and observed a thin blue Prospect, which cleared as Mountains in a Summer Morning when the Mists go off, and the Palace of Vanity appeared to Sight.

The Foundation hardly seemed a Foundation, but a Set of curling Clouds, which it stood upon by magical Contrivance.  The Way by which we ascended was painted like a Rainbow; and as we went the Breeze that played about us bewitched the Senses.  The Walls were gilded all for Show; the lowest Set of Pillars were of the slight fine Corinthian Order, and the Top of the Building being rounded, bore so far the Resemblance of a Bubble.

At the Gate the Travellers neither met with a Porter, nor waited till one should appear; every one thought his Merits a sufficient Passport, and pressed forward.  In the Hall we met with several Phantoms, that rov’d amongst us, and rang’d the Company according to their Sentiments.  There was decreasing Honour, that had nothing to shew in but an old Coat of his Ancestors Atchievements:  There was Ostentation, that made himself his own constant Subject, and Gallantry strutting upon his Tiptoes.  At the upper End of the Hall stood a Throne, whose Canopy glitter’d with all the Riches that Gayety could contrive to lavish on it; and between the gilded Arms sat Vanity, deck’d in the Peacock’s Feathers, and acknowledged for another Venus by her Votaries.  The Boy who stood beside her for a Cupid, and who made the World to bow before her, was called Self-Conceit.  His Eyes had every now and then a Cast inwards to the Neglect of all Objects about him; and the Arms which he made use of for Conquest, were borrowed from those against whom he had a Design.  The Arrow which he shot at the Soldier, was fledged from his own Plume of Feathers; the Dart he directed against the Man of Wit, was winged from the Quills he writ with; and that which he sent against those who presumed upon their Riches, was headed with Gold out of their Treasuries:  He made Nets for Statesmen from their own Contrivances; he took Fire from the Eyes of Ladies, with which he melted their Hearts; and Lightning from the Tongues of the Eloquent, to enflame them with their own Glories.  At the Foot of the Throne sat three false Graces. Flattery with a Shell of