who are slaves to them may see, that in- No. 100.] Monday, June 25, 1711. Nil L. not think at all, or think himself very in- Of this kind is the life of that extraordi ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico. Hor. Lib. 1. Sat. v. 44. The greatest blessing is a pleasant friend. A MAN advanced in years, that thinks fit nary couple, Harry Tersett and his lady. to look back upon his former life, and call Harry was in the days of his celibacy one that only life which was passed with satis- of those pert creatures who have much faction and enjoyment, excluding all parts vivacity and little understanding; Mrs. Rewhich were not pleasant to him, will find becca Quickly, whom he married, had all himself very young, if not in his infancy. that the fire of youth and lively manner Sickness, ill-humour, and idleness, will could do towards making an agreeable wohave robbed him of a great share of that man. These two people of seeming merit space we ordinarily call our life. It is fell into each other's arms; and passion therefore the duty of every man that would being sated, and no reason or good sense in be true to himself, to obtain, if possible, a either to succeed it, their life is now at a disposition to be pleased, and place him- stand; their meals are insipid, and their self in a constant aptitude for the satisfac-time tedious; their fortune has placed them tions of his being. Instead of this, you hardly see a man who is not uneasy in proportion to his advancement in the arts of life. An affected delicacy is the common improvement we meet with in those who pretend to be refined above others. They do not aim at true pleasures themselves, but turn their thoughts upon observing the false pleasures of other men. Such people are valetudinarians in society, and they should no more come into company than a sick man should come into the air. If a man is too weak to bear what is a refreshment to men in health, he must still keep his chamber. When any one in Sir Roger's Company complains he is out of order, he immediately calls for some posset-drink for him; for which reason that sort of people bewailing their constitution in other places are the cheerfulest imaginable when he is present. who are ever above care, and their loss of taste reduced This portable quality of good-humour seasons all the parts and occurrences we meet with in such a manner, that there are no moments lost; but they all pass with so much satisfaction, that the heaviest of loads (when it is a load,) that of time, is never felt by us. Varilas has this quality to the highest perfection, and communicates It is a wonderful thing that so many, and it whenever he appears. The sad, the they not reckoned absurd, shall entertain merry, the severe, the melancholy, show those with whom they converse, by giving a new cheerfulness when he comes amongst them the history of their pains and aches; them. At the same time no one can repeat and imagine such narrations their quota of any thing that Varilas has ever said that the conversation. This is of all other the deserves repetition; but the man has that meanest help to discourse, and a man must innate goodness of temper, that he is wel come to every body, because every man | tions have seldom their true characters thinks he is so to him. He does not drawn till several years after their deaths. seem to contribute any thing to the mirth Their personal friendships and enmities of the company; and yet upon reflection must cease, and the parties they were enyou find it all happened by his being there. gaged in be at an end, before their faults or I thought it was whimsically said of a gen- their virtues can have justice done them. tleman, that if Varilas had wit, it would be When writers have the least opportunity the best wit in the world. It is certain, of knowing the truth, they are in the best when a well-corrected lively imagination disposition to tell it. and good-breeding are added to a sweet disposition, they qualify it to be one of the greatest blessings, as well as pleasures of life. Men would come into company with ten times the pleasure they do, if they were sure of hearing nothing which would shock them, as well as expected what would please them. When we know every person that is spoken of is represented by one who has no ill-will, and every thing that is mentioned described by one that is apt to set it in the best light, the entertainment must be delicate, because the cook has nothing brought to his hand but what is the most excellent in its kind. Beautiful pictures are the entertainments of pure minds, and deformities of the corrupted. It is a degree towards the life of angels, when we enjoy conversation wherein there in nothing presented but in its excellence: and a degree towards that of demons, where nothing is shown but in its degeneT. racy. Edward and Henry, now the boast of fame, And virtuous Alfred, a more sacred name, After a life of gen'rous toils endur'd, The Gaul subdu'd or property secur'd, Ambition humbled, mighty cities storm'd, Or laws establish'd, and the world reform'd; Clos'd their long glories with a sigh, to find Th' unwilling gratitude of base mankind.-Pope. "CENSURE,' says a late ingenious author, is the tax a man pays to the public for being eminent.' It is a folly for an eminent man to think of escaping it, and a weakness to be affected with it. All the illustrious persons of antiquity, and indeed of every age in the world, have passed through this fiery persecution. There is no defence against reproach but obscurity; it is a kind of concomitant to greatness, as satires and invectives were an essential part of a Roman triumph. It is therefore the privilege of posterity to adjust the characters of illustrious persons, and to set matters right between those antagonists, who by their rivalry for greatness divided a whole age into factions. We can now allow Cæsar to be a great man, without derogating from Pompey, and celebrate the virtues of Cato without detracting from those of Cæsar. Every one that has been long dead has a due proportion of praise allotted him, in which, whilst he lived, his friends were too profuse, and his enemies too sparing. According to Sir Isaac Newton's calculations, the last comet that made its appearance in 1680, imbibed so much heat by its approaches to the sun, that it would have been two thousand times hotter than red hot iron, had it been a globe of that metal; and that supposing it as big as the earth, and at the same distance from the sun, it would be fifty thousand years in cooling, before it recovered its natural temper. In the like manner, if an Englishman considers the great ferment into which our political world is thrown at present, and how intensely it is heated in all its parts, he cannot suppose that it will cool again in less than three hundred years. In such a tract of time it is possible that the heats of the present age may be extinguished, and our several classes of great men represented under their proper characters. Some eminent historian may then probably arise that will not write recentibus odiis (as Tacitus expresses it,) with the passions and prejudices of a contemporary author, but make an impartial distribution of fame among the great men of the present age. I cannot forbear entertaining myself very often with the idea of such an imaginary historian describing the reign of Anne the first, and introducing it with a preface to his reader, that he is now entering upon the most shining part of the English story. The great rivals in fame will be then distinguished according to their respective merits, and shine in their proper points of light. Such an one (says the historian) though variously represented by the writers of his own age, appears to have been a If men of eminence are exposed to cen- man of more than ordinary abilities, great sure on one hand, they are as much liable application, and uncommon integrity: nor to flattery on the other. If they receive was such an one (though of an opposite reproaches which are not due to them, they party and interest) inferior to him in any likewise receive praises which they do not of these respects. The several antagonists deserve. In a word, the man in a high post who now endeavour to depreciate one anis never regarded with an indifferent eye, other, and are celebrated or traduced by but always considered as a friend or an ene- different parties, will then have the same my. For this reason persons in great sta-body of admirers, and appear illustrious in moral reflections, * * * * * * * the opinion of the whole British nation. | which we must show to old English writers, The following part of the paragraph is -Lusus animo debent aliquando dari, L. the honourable mention which will then be No. 102.] Wednesday, June 27, 1711. Phædr. Fab. xiv. 3: It was under this reign, says he, that the Spectator published those little diurnal essays which are still extant. We know very little of the name or person of this author, except only that he was a man of very short face, extremely addicted to silence, and so great a lover of knowledge, that he made a voyage to Grand Cairo for no other reason, but to take the measure of a pyramid. His chief friend was Sir Roger De Coverley, a whimsical country knight, and a Templar 'MR. SPECTATOR,-Women are armed whose name he has not transmitted to us. with fans as men with swords, and someHe lived as a lodger at the house of a times do more execution with them. To widow-woman, and was a great humourist the end therefore that ladies may be entire in all parts of his life. This is all we can mistresses of the weapon which they bear, affirm with any certainty of his person and I have erected an academy for the training character. As for his speculations, not-up of young women in the exercise of the withstanding the several obsolete words and fan, according to the most fashionable airs obscure phrases of the age in which he lived, and motions that are now practised at court. we still understand enough of them to see The ladies who carry fans under me are the diversions and characters of the English drawn up twice a-day in my great hall, nation in his time; not but that we are to where they are instructed in the use of their make allowance for the mirth and humour arms, and exercised by the following words of the author, who has doubtless strained of command:-Handle your fans, Unfurl many representations of things beyond the your fans, Discharge your fans, Grond truth. For if we interpret his words in their your fans, Recover your fans, Flutter your literal meaning, we must suppose that wo-fans. By the right observation of these few men of the first quality used to pass away plain words of command, a woman of a tolewhole mornings at a puppet-show; that rable genius, who will apply herself dilithey attested their principles by their gently to her exercise for the space of but patches; that an audience would sit out an one half-year, shall be able to give her fan evening, to hear a dramatical performance all the graces that can possibly enter into written in a language which they did not that little modish machine. understand; that chairs and flower-pots But to the end that my readers may were introduced as actors upon the British form to themselves a right notion of this exstage; that a promiscuous assembly of men ercise, I beg leave to explain it to them in and women were allowed to meet at mid- all its parts. When my female regiment night in masks within the verge of the court; is drawn up in array, with every one her with many improbabilities of the like na- weapon in her hand, upon my giving the ture. We must, therefore, in these and the word to Handle their fans, each of them cases, suppose that these remote hints shakes her fan at me with a smile, then and allusions aimed at some certain follies gives her right-hand woman a tap upon the which were then in vogue, and which at shoulder, then presses her lips with the expresent we have not any notion of. We tremity of the fan, then lets her arms fall may guess by several passages in the specu-in an easy motion, and stands in readiness ations, that there were writers who en- to receive the next word of command. All deavoured to detract from the works of this this is done with a close fan, and is generally uthor; but as nothing of this nature is come learned in the first week. I Do not know whether to call the follow ing letter a satire upon coquettes, or a re- Like own to us, we cannot guess at any objec- "The next motion is that of unfurling the ions that could be made to his paper. If fan, in which are comprehended several we consider his style with that indulgence little flirts, and vibrations, as also gradual and deliberate openings, with many voluntary fallings asunder in the fan itself, that are seldom learned under a month's practice. This part of the exercise pleases the spectators more than any other, as it discovers on a sudden an infinite number of cupids, garlands, altars, birds, beasts, rainbows, and the like agreeable figures, that display themselves to view, whilst every one in the regiment holds a picture in her hand. There is the angry flutter, the modish flutter, the timorous flutter, the confused flutter, 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 Upon my giving the word to Discharge provoked it to have come within the wind their fans, they give one general crack that of it; and at other times so very languish may be heard at a considerable distance ing, that I have been glad for the lady's when the wind sits fair. This is one of the sake the lover was at a sufficient dismost difficult parts of the exercise, but I tance from it. I need not add, that a fan is have several ladies with me, who at their either a prude or coquette, according to the first entrance could not give a pop loud nature of the person who bears it. To conenough to be heard at the farther end of a clude my letter, I must acquaint you that I room, who can now discharge a fan in such have from my own observations compiled a a manner, that it shall make a report like little treatise for the use of my scholars, ena pocket pistol. I have likewise taken care titled, The Passions of the Fan; which I (in order to hinder young women from let- will communicate to you, if you think it ting off their fans in wrong places or on un- may be of use to the public. I shall have a suitable occasions) to show upon what sub-general review on Thursday next; to which ject the crack of a fan may come in properly. I have likewise invented a fan, with which a girl of sixteen, by the help of a little wind which is enclosed 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 you shall be very welcome if you will honour it with your presence. I 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 expense.' L. -Sihi quivis their fans. This teaches a lady to quit her No. 103.] Thursday, June 28, 1711. 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 twelvemonth. "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. of 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 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 The fluttering of the fan is the last, and convinced that the many professions of indeed the master-piece of the whole exer- kindness and service, which we ordinarily cise; but if a lady does not mispend her meet with, are not natural where the heart time, she make herself mistress of it is well inclined; but are a prostitution of in three months. I generally lay aside the speech, seldom intended to mean any part dog-days and the hot time of the summer of what they express, never to mean all for the teaching this part of the exercise; they express. Our reverend friend, upon for as soon as ever I pronounce Flutter this topic, pointed to us two or three para your fans, the place is filled with so many graphs on this subject in the first sermon zephyrs and gentle breezes as are very re- of the first volume in the late archbishop's freshing in that season of the year, though posthumous works. I do not know that! they might be dangerous to ladies of a ten-ever read any thing that pleased me more, der constitution in any other. may There is an infinite variety of motions to be made use of in the flutter of a fan. from John, chap. i. ver. 47, being the last discourse be *See Archbishop Tillotson's Sermon on Sincerity, preached, July 29, 1094. He died Nov. 24. following 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 pomp of rhetoric on this occasion, and treats it with a more than ordinary simplicity, 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: in justification of this hollow kind of con- -Amongst too many other instances of 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. men, almost upon no occasion; how great In another part of the same discourse he goes on to show, that all artifice must naturally tend to the disappointment of him that practises it. honour and esteem they will declare for No. 104.] Friday, June 29, 1711. one whom perhaps they never saw before, and how entirely they are all on a 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 afficted too, for no cause. I know it is said, R. Qualis equos Threissa fatigat Dryden. IT would be a noble improvement, or rather a recovery of what we call good |