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by the help of a little wind which is inclosed about one of the largest sticks, can make as loud a crack as a woman of fifty with an ordinary fan.

" When the fans are thus discharged, the word of command in course is, to Ground their fans. This teaches a lady to quit her fan gracefully when she throws it aside in order to take up a pack of cards, adjust a curl of hair, replace a falling pin, or apply herself to any other matter of importance. This part of the exercise, as it only consists in tossing a fan with an air upon a long table (which stands by for that purpose), may be learned in two days time as well as in a twelvemonthi.

• When my female regiment is thus disarmed, I generally let them walk about the room for some time ; when on a sudden (like ladies that look upon their watches after a long visit) they all of them hasten to their arms, catch them up in a hurry, and place themselves in their proper stations upon my calling out Recover your fans. This part of the exercise is not difficult, provided a woman applies her thoughts to it.

• The Fluttering of the fan is the last, and indeed the master-piece of the whole exercise; but if a lady does not mispend her time, she may make herself mistress of it in three months. I generally lay aside the dog-days and the hot time of the summer for the teaching this part of the exercise ; for as soon as ever I pionounce Flutter your fans, the place is filled with so many zephyrs and gentle breezes as are very refreshing in that season of the year, though they inight be dangerous to ladies of a tender constitution in any other.

« There is an infinite variety of motions to be made use of in the flutter of a fan. There is the angry Autter, the modest flutter, the timorous flutter, the confused Mutter, the merry flutter, and the amorous flutter. Not to be tedious, there is scarce any emotion in the mind which does not produce a suitable agitation in the fan ; insomuch, that if I only see the fan of a disciplined lady, I know very

well whether she laughs, frowns or blushes. I have seen a fan so very angry, that it would have been dangerous for the absent lover who provoked it to have come within the wind of it; and at other times so very languishing, that I have been glad for the lady's sake the lover was at a sufficient distance from it. I need not add, that a fan is either a prude or.coquette, according to the nature of the person who bears it. To conclude my letter, I must acquaint you that I have from my own observations compiled a little treatise for the use of my scholars, intitled “The Passions of the Fan;' which I will communicate to you, if you think it may be of use to the public. I shall have a general review on Thursday next; to which you shall be very wel. come if


will honour it with your presence.

am, &c.

« P. S. I teach young gentlemen the whole art of gallanting a fan.

N. B. I have several little plain fans made for this use, to avoid expence.'



No 103. THURSDAY, JUNE 28, 1711.

Sibi quivis
Speret iden : Sudet multü in, frustraque laboret
Ausus idem-

vor Ars Poet. v. 2.10.
All men will try, and hope to write as well,
And not (without much pains) be undeceiv'd,


My friend the divine having been used with words of complaisance, which he thinks could be properly applied to no one living, and I think could be only spoken of him, and that in his absence, was so , extremely offended with the excessive way of speaking civilities among us, that he made a discourse

against it at the club, which he concluded with this remark,' that he had not heard one compliment made in our society since its commencement.' Every one was pleased with his conclusion; and as each knew his good-will to the rest, he was convinced that the many professions of kindness and service, which we ordinarily meet with, are not natural where the heart is well inclined; but are a prostitution of speech, sellom intended to mean any part of what they express, never to mean all they express. Our reverend friend, upon this topic, pointed out to us two or three paragraphıs on this subject in the first sermon of the first volume, of the late archbishop's * posthumous works.

İ do not know that I ever read any thing that pleased me more; and as it is the praise of Longinus, that he speaks of the sublime in a style suitable to it, so one may say of this author upon sincerity, that he abhors any poinp of rhetoric on this occasion, and treats it with a more than ordinary sim. plicity, at once to be a preacher and an example. With what command of himself does he lay before us, in the language and temper of his profession, a fault, which by the least liberty and warmth of expression would be the most lively wit and satire ! But his heart was better disposed, and the good man chastised the great wit in such a manner, that he was able to speak as follows:

-Amongst too many other instances of the great corruption and degeneracy of the age

wherein we live, the great and general want of sincerity in conversation is none of the least. The world is grown so full of dissimulation and compliment, that men's words are hardly any signification of their thoughts; and if any man measure his words by his heart, and speak as he thinks, and do not express more kindness to every man, than men usually have for any man, he can hardly escape the censure of want of breeding. The old English plainness and sincerity, that generous integrity of

* Tillotson's, on Sincerity, from. John i. 47.

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nature, and honesty of disposition, which always argues true greatness of mind, and is usually accompanied with undaunted courage and resolution, is in a great measure lost amongst us. There hath been a long endeavour to transtorm us into foreign manners and fashions, and to bring us to a servile imitation of none of the best of our neighbours, in some of the worst of their qualities. The dialect of conversation, is now-a-days so swelled with vanity and compliment, and so surfeited (as I may say) of expressions of kindness and respect, that if man that lived an age or two ago should return into the world again, he would really want a dictionary to help him to understand his own language, and to know the true intrinsic value of the phrase in fashion, and would hardly at first believe at what a low rate the highest strains and expressions of kind. ness imaginable do commonly pass in current payment: and when he should come to understand it, it would be a great while before he could bring himself with a good countenance and a good conscience to converse with men upon equal terms, and in their own way.

' And in truth it is hard to say, whether it should more provoke our contempt or our pity, to hear what solemn expressions of respect and kindness will pass between men,


upon no occasion; how great honour and esteem they will declare for one whom perhaps they never saw before, and how intirely they are all on the sudden devoted to his service and interest, for no reason; how infinitely and eternally obliged to him, for no benefit; and how extremely they will be concerned for him, yea and afflicted too, for no cause I know it is said, in justification of this hollow kind of conversation, that there is no harm, no real deceit in compliment; but the matter is well enough, so long as we understand one anothor; et verba : valent ut nummi, “ words are like money ;” and when the current value, of them is generally understood, no man is created by them. This is something, if such words were any thing; but being brought into the account, they are mere cyphers. However, it is still a just matter of complaint, that sincerity and plainness are out of fashion, and that, our language is running into a lie ; that men have almost quite perverted the use of speech, and made words to signify nothing ; that the greatest part of the conversation of mankind is little else but driving a trade of dissimulation; insoinuch that it would make a man heartily sick and weary of the world, to see the little sincerity that is in use and practice among men.'

When the vice is placed in this contemptible light, he argues unanswerably against it, in words and thoughts so natural, that any man who reads them would imagine he himself could have been the author of them.

• If the shew of any thing be good for any thing, I am sure sincerity is better : for why does any man dissemble or seem to be that which he is not, but because he thinks it good to have such a quality as he pretends to! For to counterfeit and dissemble, js to put on the appearance of some real excellency. Now the best

way in the world, to seem to be any thing, is really to be what he would seem to be. Besides, that it is many times as troublesome to make good the pretence of a good quality, as to have it; and if a man have it not, it is ten to one but he is discovered to want it; and then all his. pains and labour to seem to have it, are lost.'

In another part of the same discourse he to shew, that all artifice must naturally tend to the disappointment of him that practises it.

"Whatsoever convenience may be thought to be in falsehood and dissimulation, it is soon over; but the inconvenience of it is perpetual, because it brings a man under an everlasting jealousy and suspicion, so that he is not believed when he speaks truth, nor trusted when perhaps he means honestly. When a man hath once forfeited the reputation of his integrity, he is set fast, and nothing will then serve his turn, neither truth nor falsehood.

goes on


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