[Footnote 4:  The Night Journey of Mahomet gives its Title to the 17th Sura of the Koran, which assumes the believer’s knowledge of the Visions of Gabriel seen at the outset of the prophet’s career, when he was carried by night from Mecca to Jerusalem and thence through the seven heavens to the throne of God on the back of Borak, accompanied by Gabriel according to some traditions, and according to some in a vision.  Details of the origin of this story will be found in Muir, ii. 219, Noeld, p. 102.  Addison took it from the ‘Turkish Tales.’]

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No 95.  Tuesday, June 19, 1711.  Steele.

      Curae Leves loquuntur, Ingentes Stupent. [1]

Having read the two following Letters with much Pleasure, I cannot but think the good Sense of them will be as agreeable to the Town as any thing I could say either on the Topicks they treat of, or any other.  They both allude to former Papers of mine, and I do not question but the first, which is upon inward Mourning, will be thought the Production of a Man who is well acquainted with the generous Earnings of Distress in a manly Temper, which is above the Relief of Tears.  A Speculation of my own on that Subject I shall defer till another Occasion.

The second Letter is from a Lady of a Mind as great as her Understanding.  There is perhaps something in the Beginning of it which I ought in Modesty to conceal; but I have so much Esteem for this Correspondent, that I will not alter a Tittle of what she writes, tho’ I am thus scrupulous at the Price of being Ridiculous.

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

’I was very well pleased with your Discourse upon General Mourning, and should be obliged to you if you would enter into the Matter more deeply, and give us your Thoughts upon the common Sense the ordinary People have of the Demonstrations of Grief, who prescribe Rules and Fashions to the most solemn Affliction; such as the Loss of the nearest Relations and dearest Friends.  You cannot go to visit a sick Friend, but some impertinent Waiter about him observes the Muscles of your Face, as strictly as if they were Prognosticks of his Death or Recovery.  If he happens to be taken from you, you are immediately surrounded with Numbers of these Spectators, who expect a melancholy Shrug of your Shoulders, a Pathetical shake of your Head, and an Expressive Distortion of your Face, to measure your Affection and Value for the Deceased:  But there is nothing, on these Occasions, so much in their Favour as immoderate Weeping.  As all their passions are superficial, they imagine the Seat of Love and Friendship to be placed visibly in the Eyes:  They judge what Stock of Kindness you had for the Living, by the Quantity of Tears you pour out for the Dead; so that if one Body wants that Quantity of Salt-water another abounds with, he is in great Danger of being thought insensible or ill-natured:  They are Strangers