o 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 Paint, _Affectation_ with a Mirrour to
practise at, and _Fashion_ ever changing the Posture of her Cloaths.
These applied themselves to secure the Conquests which _Self-Conceit_
had gotten, and had each of them their particular Polities. _Flattery_
gave new Colours and Complections to all Things. _Affectation_ new Airs
and Appe