July the 5th, 1711. 'SIR, 'IN your Spectator of June the 27th1 you tran scribe a letter sent to you from a new sort of muster-master, 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. 'As soon as my son is perfect in this art (which I hope will be in a year's time, for the boy is pretty 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.' 1 No. 102. To the SPECTATOR. 'The Humble Petition of BENJAMIN EASIE, Gent. 'Sheweth, "THAT it was your petitioner's misfortune to walk to Hackney Church last Sunday, where to his great 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-managed officer of yours has, to my knowledge, been the ruin of above five young gentlemen besides myself, and still goes on laying waste wheresover she comes, whereby the whole village is in great danger. Our humble request is, therefore, that this bold amazon be ordered immediately to lay down her arms, or that you would issue forth an order that we who have been thus injured may meet at the place of general rendezvous, and there be taught to manage our snuff-boxes in such manner as we may be an equal match for her. And your Petitioner shall ever pray, &c.' R. I Saturday, August 4, 1711 [ADDISON. Est brevitate opus, ut currat sententia. -HOR., I Sat. x. 9. HAVE somewhere read of an eminent person, who used in his private offices of devotion to give thanks to Heaven that he was born a Frenchman for my own part, I look upon it as a peculiar blessing that I was born an Englishman. Among many other reasons, I think myself very happy in my country, as the language of it is wonderfully adapted to a man who is sparing of his words and an enemy to loquacity. As I have frequently reflected on my good fortune in this particular, I shall communicate to the public my speculations upon the English tongue, not doubting but they will be acceptable to all my curious readers. The English delight in silence more than any other European nation, if the remarks which are made on us by foreigners are true. Our discourse is not kept up in conversation, but falls into more pauses and intervals than in our neighbouring countries; as it is observed, that the matter of our writings is thrown much closer together, and lies in a narrower compass than is usual in the works of foreign authors: for, to favour our natural taciturnity, when we are obliged to utter our thoughts, we do it in the shortest way we are able, and give as quick a birth to our conceptions as possible. This humour shows itself in several remarks that we may make upon the English language. As first of all by its abounding in monosyllables, which gives us an opportunity of delivering our thoughts in few sounds. This indeed takes off from the elegance of our tongue, but at the same time expresses our ideas in the readiest manner, and consequently answers the first design of speech better than the multitude of syllables which make the words of other languages more tunable and sonorous. The sounds of our English words are commonly like those of string music, short and transient, which rise and perish upon a single touch; those of other languages are like the notes of wind instruments, sweet and swelling, and lengthened out into variety of modulation. In the next place, we may observe that where the words are not monosyllables, we often make them so, as much as lies in our power, by our rapidity of pronunciation; as it generally happens in most of our long words which are derived from the Latin, where we contract the length of the syllables that gives them a grave and solemn air in their own language, to make them more proper for despatch, and more conformable to the genius of our tongue. This we may find in a multitude of words, as liberty, conspiracy, theatre, orator, &c. The same natural aversion to loquacity has of late years made a very considerable alteration in our language, by closing in one syllable the termination of our preterperfect tense, as in the words drown'd, walk'd, arriv'd, for drowned, walked, arrived, which has very much disfigured the tongue, and turned a tenth part of our smoothest words into so many clusters of consonants. This is the more remarkable, because the want of vowels in our language has been the general complaint of our politest authors, who nevertheless are the men that have made these retrenchments, and consequently very much increased our former scarcity. This reflection on the words that end in ed, I have heard in conversation from one of the greatest geniuses this age has produced.1 I think we may add to the foregoing observation the change which has happened in our language by the abbreviation of 1 Swift. S took the place of eth, not by abbreviation, but by the Northern English form prevailing over the Southern. Similarly, the s of the genitive singular is the inflexion of one of the Anglo-Saxon declensions. happy in my country, as the language of it is wonderfully adapted to a man who is sparing of his words and an enemy to loquacity. As I have frequently reflected on my good fortune in this particular, I shall communicate to the public my speculations upon the English tongue, not doubting but they will be acceptable to all my curious readers. The English delight in silence more than any other European nation, if the remarks which are made on us by foreigners are true. is not kept up in conversation, but falls into more Our discourse pauses and intervals than in our neighbouring countries; as it is observed, that the matter of our writings is thrown much closer together, and lies in a narrower compass than is usual in the works of foreign authors: for, to favour our natural taciturnity, when we thoughts, we do it in the shortest way we are able, are obliged to utter our and give as quick a birth to our conceptions as possible. This humour shows itself in several remarks that we may make upon the English language. As first of all by its abounding in monosyllables, which gives us an opportunity of delivering our thoughts in few sounds. This indeed takes off from the elegance of our tongue, but at the same time expresses our ideas in the readiest manner, and consequently answers the first design of speech better than the multitude of syllables which make the words of other languages more tunable and sonorous. of our English words are commonly like those of The sounds string music, short and transient, which rise and perish upon a single touch; those of other languages are like the notes of wind instruments, sweet |