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"Upon our way from hence we saw a young fellow riding towards us full gallop, with a bob wig and a black silken bag tied to it. He stopped short at the coach, to ask us how far the judges were behind us. His stay was so very short, that we had only time to observe his new silk waistcoat, which was unbuttoned in several places, to let us see that he had a clean shirt on, which was ruffled down to his middle.

"From this place, during our progress through the most western parts of the kingdom, we fancied ourselves in King Charles the Second's reign, the people having made very little variations in their dress since that time. The smartest of the country squires appears still in the Monmouth-cock, and when they go a wooing (whether they have any post in the militia or not) they generally put on a red coat. We were, indeed, very much surprised, at the place we lay at last night, to meet with a gentleman that had accoutred himself in a night-cap wig, a coat with long pockets and slit sleeves, and a pair of shoes with high scollop tops; but we soon found by his conversation that he was a person who laughed at the ignorance and rusticity of the country people, and was resolved to live and die in the mode.

"Sir, if you think this account of my travels may be of any advantage to the public, I will next year trouble you with such occurrences as I shall meet with in other parts of England. For I am informed there are greater curiosities in the northern circuit than in the western; and that a fashion makes its progress much slower into Cumberland than into Cornwall. I have heard in particular, that the Steenkirk* arrived but two months ago at Newcastle, and that there are several commodes in those parts which are worth taking a journey thither to see." C.

No. 130.] MONDAY, JULY 30, 1711.
-Semperque recentes
Convectare juvat prædas, et vivere rapto.
VIRO. Æn. vii. 748.

promised the handsomest young fellow in the parish for her pains. Your friend the butler has been fool enough to be seduced by them; and though he is sure to lose a knife, a fork, or a spoon every time his fortune is told him, generally shuts himself up in the pantry with an old gipsy for above half an hour once in a twelvemonth. Sweethearts are the things they live upon, which they bestow very plentifully upon all those that apply themselves to them. You see now and then some handsome young jades among them: the sluts have white teeth and black eyes."

Sir Roger observing that I listened with great attention to his account of a people who were so entirely new to me, told me, that if I would, they should tell us our fortunes. As I was very well pleased with the knight's proposal, we rid up, and communicated our hands to them. A Cassandra of the crew, after having examined my lines very diligently, told me, that I loved a pretty maid in a corner, that I was a good woman's man, with some other particulars which I do not think proper to relate. My friend Sir Roger alighted from his horse, and exposing his palm to two or three that stood by him, they crumpled it all shapes, and diligently scanned every wrinkle that could be made in it; when one of them, who was older and more sunburnt than the rest, told him, that he had a widow in his line of life. Upon which the knight cried, " Go, go, you are an idle baggage ;" and at the same time smiled upon me. The gipsy finding he was not displeased in his heart, told him after a farther inquiry into his hand, that his true-love was constant, and that she should dream of him to-night. My old friend cried pish, and bid her go on. The gipsy told him that he was a bachelor, but would not be so long; and that he was dearer to somebody than he thought. The knight still repeated," She was an idle baggage," and bid her go on. "Ah, master," says the gipsy, "that roguish leer of yours makes a pretty woman's heart ache; you have not that simper about the mouth for nothing."The uncouth gibberish with which all this was uttered, like the darkness of an oracle, made us the more attentive to it. To be short, the knight left the money with her that he had crossed her hand with, and got up again on his horse.

A plundering race, still eager to invade, On spoil they live, and make of theft a trade. As I was yesterday riding out in the fields with my friend Sir Roger, we saw at a little distance from us a troop of gipsies. Upon the first discovery of As we were riding away, Sir Roger told me, that them, my friend was in some doubt whether he he knew several sensible people who believed these should not exert the justice of the peace upon such gipsies now and then foretold very strange things; a band of lawless vagrants; but not having his and for half an hour together appeared more jocund clerk with him, who is a necessary counsellor with than ordinary. In the height of his good-humour, him on these occasions, and fearing that his poultry meeting a common beggar upon the road, who was might fare the worse for it, he let the thought drop-no conjuror, as he went to relieve him he found his but at the same time gave me a particular account of pocket was picked; that being a kind of palmistry the mischiefs they do in the country, in stealing at which this race of vermin are very dexterous. people's goods and spoiling their servants. "If a stray piece of linen hangs upon a hedge," says Sir Roger, they are sure to have it; if the hog loses his way in the fields, it is ten to one but he becomes their prey: our geese cannot live in peace for them; if a man prosecutes them with severity, his henroost is sure to pay for it. They generally straggle into these parts about this time of the year; and set the heads of our servant-maids so agog for husbands, that we do not expect to have any business done as it should be whilst they are in the country. I have an honest dairy-maid who crosses their hands with a piece of silver every summer, and never fails being

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*The Steenkirk was a kind of military cravat of black silk; probably first worn at the battle of Steenkirk, fought August 2, 1692.

I might here entertain my reader with historical remarks on this idle profligate people, who infest all the countries of Europe, and live in the midst of governments in a kind of commonwealth by themselves. But instead of entering into observations of this nature, I shall fill the remaining part of my paper with a story which is still fresh in Holland, and was printed in one of ou: monthly accounts about twenty years ago. "As the trek-schuyt, or hackney-boat which carries passengers from Leyden to Amsterdam, was putting off, a boy running along the side of the canal desired to be taken in which the master of the boat refused, because the lad had not quite money chant being pleased with the looks of the boy, and enough to pay the usual fare. An eminent mer

Hardly more than three-pence.

difficulty in the country is to find sport, and in town to choose it. In the mean time, as I have given a whole month's rest to the cities of London and Westminster, I promise myself abundance of new game upon my return thither.

It is indeed high time for me to leave the country, since I find the whole neighbourhood begin to grow very inquisitive after my name and character; my love of solitude, taciturnity, and particular way of life, having raised a great curiosity in all these parts. The notions which have been framed of me are various: some look upon me as very proud, some as very modest, and some as very melancholy. Will Wimble, as my friend the butler tells me, observing me very much alone, and extremely silent when I am in company, is afraid I have killed a man. The country people seem to suspect me for a conjuror; and some of them, hearing of the visit which I made to Moll White, will needs have it that Sir Roger has brought down a cunning man with him, to cure the old woman, and free the country from her charms. So that the character which I go under in part of the neighbourhood, is what they call here a White Witch.

secretly touched with compassion towards him, paid the money for him, and ordered him to be taken on board. Upon talking with him afterward, he found that he could speak readily in three or four languages, and learned upon farther examination that he had oeen stolen away when be was a child by a gipsy, and had rambled ever since with a gang of those strollers up and down several parts of Europe. It happened that the merchant, whose heart seems to have inclined towards the boy by a secret kind of instinct, had himself lost a child some years before. The parents, after a long search for him, gave him for drowned in one of the canals with which that country abounds; and the mother was so afflicted at the loss of a fine boy, who was her only son, that she died for grief of it. Upon laying together all particulars, and examining the several moles and marks by which the mother used to describe the child when he was first missing, the boy proved to be the son of the merchant whose heart had so unaccountably melted at the sight of him. The lad was very well pleased to find a father who was so rich and likely to leave him a good estate: the father on the other hand was not a little delighted to see a son return to him, whom he had given up for lost, with such a strength of constitution, sharpness of understanding, and skill in languages." Here the printed story leaves off; but if I may give credit to reports, our linguist having received such extraordinary rudiments towards a good education, was afterwards trained up in every thing that becomes a gentle-afraid the old knight is imposed upon by a designing man; wearing off by little and little all the vicious habits and practices that he had been used to in the course of his peregrinations. Nay, it is said, that he has since been employed in foreign courts upon national business, with great reputation to himself and honour to those who sent him, and that he has visited several countries as a public minister in which he formerly wandered as a gipsy.-C.

No. 131.1 TUESDAY, JULY 31, 1711,

-Ipsa rursum concedite sylvæ-Viro. Ecl. x. 63. Once more, ye woods, adieu

A justice of peace, who lives about five miles off, and is not of Sir Roger's party, has, it seems, said twice or thrice at his table, that he wishes Sir Roger does not harbour a Jesuit in his house, and that he thinks the gentlemen of the country would do very well to make me give some account of myself.

On the other side, some of Sir Roger's friends are fellow; and as they have heard that he converses very promiscuously when he is in town, do not know but he has brought down with him some discarded whig, that is sullen, and says nothing because he is out of place.

Such is the variety of opinions which are here entertained of me, so that I pass among some for a disaffected person, and among others for a popish priest; among some for a wizard, and among others for a murderer; and all this for no other reason that I can imagine, but because I do not hoot, and halloo, and make a noise. It is true, my friend Sir Roger tells them," That it is my way," and that I am only a philosopher;-but this will not satisfy them. They think there is more in me than he discovers, and that I do not hold my tongue for nothing.

It is usual for a man who loves country sports to preserve the game in his own grounds, and divert himself upon those that belong to his neighbour. For these and other reasons I shall set out for My friend Sir Roger generally goes two or three London to-morrow, having found by experience that miles from his house, and gets into the frontiers of the country is not a place for a person of my temper, his estate, before he beats about in search of a hare who does not love jollity, and what they call good or partridge, on purpose to spare his own fields, neighbourhood. A man that is out of humour when where he is always sure of finding diversion, when an unexpected guest breaks in upon him, and does the worst comes to the worst. By this means the not care for sacrificing an afternoon to every chance breed about his house has time to increase and mul- comer-that will be the master of his own time, and tiply, besides that the sport is more agreeable where the pursuer of his own inclinations, makes but a very the game is harder to come at, and where it does not unsociable figure in this kind of life. I shall therelie so thick as to produce any perplexity or confusion fore retire into the town, if I may make use of that in the pursuit. For these reasons the country gen-phrase, and get into the crowd again as fast as I can, tleman, like the fox, seldom preys near his own home. in order to be alone. I can there raise what specuIn the same manner I have made a month's ex-lations I please upon others without being observed cursion out of the town, which is the great field of myself, and at the same time enjoy all the advangame for sportsmen of my species, to try my fortune in the country, where I have started several subjects, and hunted them down, with some pleasure to myself, and I hope to others. I am here forced to use a great deal of diligence before I can spring anything to my mind; whereas in town, whilst I am following one character, it is ten to one but I am crossed in my way by another, and put up such a variety of odd creatures in both sexes, that they foil the scent of one another, and puzzle the chase. My greatest

tages of company with all the privileges of solitude. In the mean while, to finish the month, and conclude these my rural speculations, I shall here insert a letter from my friend Will Honeycomb, who has not lived a month for these forty years out of the smoke of London, and rallies me after his way upon my country life.

"DEAR SPEC.

"I suppose this letter will find thee picking of

daisies, or smelling to a lock of hay, or passing away thy time in some innocent country diversion of the like nature. I have however orders from the club to summon thee up to town, being all of us cursedly afraid thou wilt not be able to relish our company, after thy conversations with Moll White and Will Wimble. Pr'ythee do not send us up any more stories of a cock and a bull, nor frighten the town with spirits and witches. Thy speculations begin to smell confoundedly of woods and meadows. If thou dost not come up quickly, we shall conclude that thou art in love with one of Sir Roger's dairy-maids. Service to the knight. Sir Andrew is grown the cock of the club since he left us, and if he does not return quickly will make every mother's son of us commonwealth's-men.

C.

"Dear Spec.,

"Thine eternally,

WILL HONEYCOMB."

No. 132.] WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 1, 1711. Qui, aut tempus quid postulet non videt, aut plura loquitur, aut se ostentat, aut eoreum quibuscum est rationem non habet, is ineptus esse dicitur.-FULL

That man may be called impertinent, who considers not the circumstances of time, or engrosses the conversation, or makes himself the subject of his discourse, or pays no regard to the company he is in.

he believed very graceful, told her, “that indeed he
had but very little luck, and had suffered much by
desertion, therefore should be glad to end his war
fare in the service of her or her fair daughter. In
a word," continued he, "I am a soldier, and to be
plain is my character: you see me, Madam, young,
sound, and impudent; take me yourself, widow, or
give me to her, I will be wholly at your disposal. I
am a soldier of fortune, ha!"This was followed
by a vain laugh of his own, and a deep silence of
all the rest of the company. I had nothing left for
it but to fall fast asleep, which I did with all speed.
“Come,” said he, "resolve upon it, we will make
a wedding at the next town: we will make this plea-
sant companion who is fallen asleep, to be the bride-
man; and," giving the Quaker a clap on the knee,
he concluded, "this sly saint, who, will warrant
you, understands what is what as well as you or I,
widow, shall give the bride as father." The Quaker,
who happened to be a man of smartness, answered,

Friend, I take it in good part that thou hast given
me the authority of a father over this comely and
virtuous child; and I must assure thee, that if I
have the giving her, I shall not bestow her on thee.
Thy mirth, friend, savoureth of folly; thou art a
person of a light mind; thy drum is a type of thee-
it soundeth because it is empty. Verily, it is not from
thy fulness, but thy emptiness, that thou hast spoken
this day. Friend, friend, we have hired this coach
in partnership with thee, to carry us to the great
city; we cannot go any other way. This worthy
mother must hear thee if thou wilt needs utter thy
follies; we cannot help it, friend, I say: if thou
wilt, we must hear thee; but if thou wert a man of
understanding, thou wouldst not take advantage of
thy courageous countenance to abash us children of
peace.-Thou art, thou sayest, a soldier; give quar-
ter to us, who cannot resist thee. Why didst thou
fleer at our friend, who feigned himself asleep? He
said nothing; but how dost thou know what he con
taineth? If thou speakest improper things in the
hearing of this virtuous young virgin, consider it as
an outrage against a distressed person that cannot
get from thee; to speak indiscreetly what we are
obliged to hear, by being hasped up with thee in this
public vehicle, is in some degree assaulting on the
high road."

HAVING notified to my good friend Sir Roger that I should set out for London the next day, his horses were ready at the appointed hour in the evening; and, attended by one of his grooms, I arrived at the county-town at twilight, in order to be ready for the stage-coach the day following. As soon as we arrived at the inn, the servant who waited upon me inquired of the chamberlain in my hearing what company he had for the coach? The fellow answered, "Mrs. Betty Arable, the great fortune, and the widow her mother; a recruiting officer (who took a place because they were to go); young 'Squire Quickset, her cousin (that her mother wished her to be married to); Ephraim the Quaker, her guardian; and a gentleman that had studied himself dumb from Sir Roger de Coverley's." I observed by what he said of myself, that according to his office he dealt much in intelligence; and doubted not but there was some foundation for his reports of the rest of the Here Ephraim paused, and the captain with a company, as well as for the whimsical account he happy and uncommon impudence (which can be gave of me. The next morning at day-break we convicted and support itself at the same time) cries, were all called; and I, who know my own natural" Faith, friend, I thank thee; I should have been a shyness, and endeavour to be as little liable to be disputed with as possible, dressed immediately, that I might make no one wait. The first preparation for our setting out was, that the captain's half-pike was placed near the coachman, and a drum behind the coach. In the mean time the drummer, the captain's equipage, was very loud, "that none of the captain's things should be placed so as to be spoiled;" upon which his cloak-bag was fixed in the seat of the coach; and the captain himself, according to a frequent, though invidious behaviour of military men, ordered his man to look sharp, that none but one of the ladies should have the place he had taken fronting the coach-box.

We were in some little time fixed in our seats, and sat with that dislike which people not too good-natured usually conceive of each other at first sight. The coach jumbled us insensibly into some sort of familiarity: and we had not moved above two miles, when the widow asked the captain what success he bad in his recruiting? The officer, with a frankness

little impertinent if thou hadst not reprimanded me.
Come, thou art, I see, a smoky old fellow, and I will
be very orderly the ensuing part of my journey. I
was going to give myself airs, but, ladies, Í beg
pardon."

The captain was so little out of humour, and our
company was so far from being soured by this little
ruffle, that Ephraim and he took a particular delight
in being agreeable to each other for the future; and
assumed their different provinces in the conduct of
the company. Our reckonings, apartments, and ac-
commodation, fell under Ephraim; and the captain
looked to all disputes upon the road, as the good be-
haviour of our coachman, and the right we had of
taking place, as going to London, of all vehicles
coming from thence. The occurrences we met with
were ordinary, and very little happened which could
entertain by the relation of them: but when I con-
sidered the company we were in, I took it for no
small good-fortune, that the whole journey was not
spent in impertinences, which to one part of us might

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When a poor-spirited creature that died at the same time for his crimes, bemoaned himself unmanfully, he rebuked him with this question, "Is it no consolation to such a man as thou art to die with Phocion?" At the instant when he was to die, they. asked what commands he had for his son: he an swered, "To forget this injury of the Athenians." Niocles, his friend, under the same sentence, desired he might drink the potion before him: Phocion said, "because he never had denied him any thing, he would not even this, the most difficult request he had ever made."

be an entertainment, to the other a suffering. What therefore Ephraim said when we were almost arrived at London, had to me an air not only of good understanding, but good breeding. Upon the young lady's expressing her satisfaction in the journey, and declaring how delightful it had been to her, Ephraim declared himself as follows: "There is no ordinary part of human life which expresseth so much a good m.nd, and a right inward man, as his behaviour upon meeting with strangers, especially such as may seem the most unsuitable companions to him: such a man, when he falleth in the way with persons of simplicity and innocence, however knowing he may be in the ways of men, will not vaunt himself thereof, but will the rather hide his superiority to them, that he may not be painful unto them. My good friend," continued he, turning to the officer, thee and I are to part by and by, and peradven- Epaminondas, the Theban general, having reture we may never meet again; but be advised by a ceived in fight a mortal stab with a sword, which plain man: modes and apparel are but trifles to the was left in his body, lay in that posture till he had real man, therefore do not think such a man as thy-intelligence that his troops had obtained the victory, self terrible for thy garb, nor such a one as me con- and then permitted it to be drawn out, at which intemptible for mine. When two such as thee and I stant he expressed himself in this manner: "This meet, with affections as we ought to have towards is not the end of my life, my fellow-soldiers; it is each other, thou shouldst rejoice to see my peace- now your Epaminondas is born, who dies in so able demeanour, and I should be glad to see thy much glory." strength and ability to protect me in it."-T.

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THERE is a sort of delight, which is alternately mixed with terror and sorrow, in the contemplation of death, The soul has its curiosity more than ordiDarily awakened, when it turns its thoughts upon the conduct of such who have behaved themselves with an equal, a resigned, a cheerful, a generous, or heroic temper in that extremity. We are affected with these respective manners of behaviour, as we secretly believe the part of the dying person imitated by ourselves, or such as we imagine ourselves more particularly capable of. Men of exalted minds march before us like princes, and are to the ordinary race of mankind rather subjects of their admiration than example. However, there are no ideas strike more forcibly upon our imaginations, than those which are raised from reflections upon the exits of great and excellent men. Innocent men who have suffered as criminals, though they were benefactors to human society, seem to be persons of the highest distinction, among the vastly greater number of human race, the dead. When the iniquity of the times brought Socrates to his execution, how great and wonderful is it to behold him, unsupported by any thing but the testimony of his own conscience and conjectures of hereafter, receive the poison with an air of warmth and good-humour, and, as if going on an agreeable journey, bespeak some deity to make it fortunate!

These instances were very noble and great, and the reflections of those sublime spirits had made death to them what it is really intended to be by the Author of nature, a relief from a various being, ever subject to sorrows and difficulties.

It were an endless labour to collect the accounts, with which all ages have filled the world, of noble and heroic minds that have resigned this being, as if the termination of life were but an ordinary occurrence of it.

This common-place way of thinking I fell into from an awkward endeavour to throw off a real and fresh affliction, by turning over books in a melancholy mood; but it is not easy to remove griefs which touch the heart, by applying remedies which only entertain the imagination. As therefore this paper is to consist of any thing which concerns human life, I cannot help letting the present subject regard what has been the last object of my eyes, though an entertainment of sorrow.

I went this evening to visit a friend, with a design to rally him, upon a story I had heard of his intending to steal a marriage without the privity of us his intimate friends and acquaintance. I came into his apartment with that intimacy which I have done for very many years, and walked directly into his bed-chamber, where I found my friend in the agonies of death.-What could I do? The innocent mirth in my thoughts struck upon me like the most flagitious wickedness: I in vain called upon him; he was senseless, and too far spent to have the least knowledge of my sorrow, or any pain in himself. Give me leave then to transcribe my soliloquy, as 1 stood by his mother, dumb with the weight of grief for a son who was her honour and her comfort, and never till that hour since his birth had been a moment's sorrow to her.

"How surprising is the change! From the pos session of vigorous life and strength, to be reduced in a few hours to this fatal extremity! Those lips which look so pale and livid, within these few days gave delight to all who heard their utterance; it was When Phocion's good actions had met with the the business, the purpose of his being, next to obeylike reward from his country, and he was led to deathing him to whom he is gone, to please and instruct, with many other of his friends, they bewailing their fate, he walking composedly towards the place of his execution, how gracefully does he support his illustrious character to the very last instant! One of the rabble spitting at him as he passed, with his usual authority he called to know if no one was ready to teach this fellow how to behave himself,

and that for no other end but to please and instruct. Kindness was the motive of his actions, and with all the capacity requisite for making a figure in a contentious world, moderation, good-nature, affability, temperance, and chastity, were the arts of his excellent life.-There as he lies in helpless agony, no wise man who knew him so well as I, but would re

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sign all the world can bestow to be so near the end such a life. Why does my heart so little obey my reason as to lament thee, thou excellent man? Heaven receive him or restore him!-Thy beloved mother, thy obliged friends, thy helpless servants, stand around thee without distinction. How much wouldst thou, hadst thou thy senses, say to each of us!

black-a-moor, a prude or a coquette, a country esquire or a conjuror, with many other different representations very entertaining (as you are), though still the same at the bottom. This was a childish amusement, when I was carried away with outward appearance; but you make a deeper impression, and affect the secret springs of the mind; you charm the fancy, soothe the passions, and insensibly lead "But now that good heart bursts, and he is at the reader to that sweetness of temper that you so rest.—With that breath expired a soul who never in- well describe; you rouse generosity with that spirit, dulged a passion unfit for the place he is gone to. and inculcate humanity with that ease, that he must Where are now thy plans of justice, of truth, of be miserably stupid that is not affected by you. I honour? Of what use the volumes thou hast col- cannot say, indeed, that you have put impertinence lated, the arguments thou hast invented, the examples to silence, or vanity out of countenance; but methou hast followed?. Poor were the expectations of thinks, you have bid as fair for it as any man that the studious, the modest, and the good, if the reward ever appeared upon a public stage; and offer an inof their labours were only to be expected from man. fallible cure of vice and folly, for the price of one No, my friend; thy intended pleadings, thy intended penny. And since it is usual for those who receive good offices to thy friends, thy intended services to benefit by such famous operators, to publish an adthy country, are already performed (as to thy con-vertisement, that others may reap the same advan cern in them) in his sight, before whom the past, present, and future, appear at one view. While others with their talents were tormented with ambition, with vainglory, with envy, with emulation-how well didst thou turn thy mind to its own improvement in things out of the power of fortune: in probity, in integrity, in the practice and study of justice! How silent thy passage, how private thy journey, how glorious thy end! Many have I known more famous, some more knowing, not one so innocent.""-R.

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No. 134] FRIDAY, AUGUST 3, 1711.-
-Opiferque per orbem

Dicor-
OVID, Met. i. 521.
And am the great physician call'd below.-Dryden.
DURING my absence in the country, several packets
have been left for me, which were not forwarded to
me, because I was expected every day in town. The
author of the following letter dated from Tower-hill,
having sometimes been entertained with some learned
gentlemen in plush-doublets, who have vended their
wares from a stage in that place, has pleasantly
enough addressed to me, as no less a sage in morality,
than those are in physic. To comply with his kind
inclination to make my cures famous, I shall give
you his testimonial of my great abilities at large in
his own words.

“SIR,

tage, I think myself obliged to declare to all the world, that having for a long time been splenetic, ill-natured, froward, suspicious and unsociable-by the application of your medicines, taken only with half an ounce of right Virginia tobacco for six successive mornings, I am become open, obliging, officious, frank, and hospitable. I am,

2.8

"Your humble servant and great admirer, GEORGE TRUSTY." The careful father and humble petitioner hereafter mentioned, who are under difficulties about the just management of fans, will soon receive proper advertisements relating to the professors in that behalf, with their places of abode and methods of teaching. "SIR, July 5, 1711. "In your Spectator of June the 27th, you transcribe a letter sent to you from a new sort of mustermaster, who teaches ladies the whole exercise of the fan. I have a daughter just come to town, who though she has always held a fan in her hand at proper times, yet she knows no more how to use it according to true discipline, than an awkward schoolboy does to make use of his new sword. I have sent for her on purpose to learn the exercise, she being already very well accomplished in all other arts which are necessary for a young lady to understand; my request is, that you will speak to your correspondent on my behalf, and in your next paper let me know what he expects, either by the month or the quarter, for teaching; and where he keeps his place of rendezvous. I have a son too, whom I would fain have taught to gallant fans, and should be glad to know what the gentleman will have for teaching them both, I finding fans for practice at my own expense. This information will in the highest manner oblige, Sir, your most humble servant, "WILLIAM WISEACRE.

Tower-hill, July 5, 1711. "Your saying the other day there is something wonderful in the narrowness of those minds which can be pleased, and be barren of bounty to those who please them, makes me in pain that I am not a man of power. If I were, you should soon see how much I approve your speculations. In the mean time, I beg leave to supply that inability with the empty tribute of an honest mind, by telling you plainly, I love and thank you for your daily refresh-I ments. I constantly peruse your paper as I smoke y morning's pipe (though I cannot forbear reading the motto before I fill and light), and really it gives a grateful relish to every whiff; each paragraph is fraught either with useful or delightful notions, and I never fail of being highly diverted or improved The variety of your subject surprises me as much as a box of pictures did formerly in which there was valy one face, that, by pulling some pieces of isinclass over it, was changed into a grave senator or a Merry-Andrew, a patched lady or a nun, a beau or a

Viz. Quack-doctors.

hope will be in a year's time, for the boy is pretty "As soon as my son is perfect in this art (which apt), I design he shall learn to ride the great horse (although he is not yet above twenty years old), if his mother, whose darling he is, will venture him."

"TO THE SPECTATOR.

"The humble Petition of Benjamin Easy, Gent.

SHEWETH,

to Hackney church last Sunday, where to his great "That it was your petitioner's misfortune to walk amazement he met with a soldier of your own training; she furls a fan, recovers a fan, and goes through the whole exercise of it to admiration. This well-ma.

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