16153 lines
845 KiB
Plaintext
16153 lines
845 KiB
Plaintext
PHILADELPHIA 1726-1757
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by Benjamin Franklin
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_Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion_
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IN TWO PARTS.
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Here will I hold ------ If there is a Pow'r above us
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(And that there is, all Nature cries aloud,
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Thro' all her Works), He must delight in Virtue
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And that which he delights in must be Happy. Cato.
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PART I.
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Philada.
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Nov. 20 1728.
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First Principles
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I believe there is one Supreme most perfect Being, Author and
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Father of the Gods themselves.
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For I believe that Man is not the most perfect Being but One,
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rather that as there are many Degrees of Beings his Inferiors, so
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there are many Degrees of Beings superior to him.
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Also, when I stretch my Imagination thro' and beyond our System
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of Planets, beyond the visible fix'd Stars themselves, into that
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Space that is every Way infinite, and conceive it fill'd with Suns
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like ours, each with a Chorus of Worlds for ever moving round him,
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then this little Ball on which we move, seems, even in my narrow
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Imagination, to be almost Nothing, and my self less than nothing, and
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of no sort of Consequence.
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When I think thus, I imagine it great Vanity in me to suppose,
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that the _Supremely Perfect_, does in the least regard such an
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inconsiderable Nothing as Man. More especially, since it is
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impossible for me to have any positive clear Idea of that which is
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infinite and incomprehensible, I cannot conceive otherwise, than that
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He, _the Infinite Father_, expects or requires no Worship or Praise
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from us, but that he is even INFINITELY ABOVE IT.
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But since there is in all Men something like a natural
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Principle which enclines them to DEVOTION or the Worship of some
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unseen Power;
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And since Men are endued with Reason superior to all other
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Animals that we are in our World acquainted with;
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Therefore I think it seems required of me, and my Duty, as a
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Man, to pay Divine Regards to SOMETHING.
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I CONCEIVE then, that the INFINITE has created many Beings or
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Gods, vastly superior to Man, who can better conceive his Perfections
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than we, and return him a more rational and glorious Praise. As
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among Men, the Praise of the Ignorant or of Children, is not regarded
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by the ingenious Painter or Architect, who is rather honour'd and
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pleas'd with the Approbation of Wise men and Artists.
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It may be that these created Gods, are immortal, or it may be
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that after many Ages, they are changed, and Others supply their
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Places.
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Howbeit, I conceive that each of these is exceeding wise, and
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good, and very powerful; and that Each has made for himself, one
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glorious Sun, attended with a beautiful and admirable System of
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Planets.
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It is that particular wise and good God, who is the Author and
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Owner of our System, that I propose for the Object of my Praise and
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Adoration.
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For I conceive that he has in himself some of those Passions he
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has planted in us, and that, since he has given us Reason whereby we
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are capable of observing his Wisdom in the Creation, he is not above
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caring for us, being pleas'd with our Praise, and offended when we
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slight Him, or neglect his Glory.
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I conceive for many Reasons that he is a _good Being_, and as I
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should be happy to have so wise, good and powerful a Being my Friend,
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let me consider in what Manner I shall make myself most acceptable to
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him.
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Next to the Praise due, to his Wisdom, I believe he is pleased
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and delights in the Happiness of those he has created; and since
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without Virtue Man (*) can have no Happiness in this World, I firmly
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believe he delights to see me Virtuous, because he is pleas'd when he
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sees me Happy.
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(*) See Junto Paper of Good and Evil, &c.
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And since he has created many Things which seem purely design'd
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for the Delight of Man, I believe he is not offended when he sees his
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Children solace themselves in any manner of pleasant Exercises and
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innocent Delights, and I think no Pleasure innocent that is to Man
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hurtful.
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I _love_ him therefore for his Goodness and I _adore_ him for
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his Wisdom.
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Let me then not fail to praise my God continually, for it is
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his Due, and it is all I can return for his many Favours and great
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Goodness to me; and let me resolve to be virtuous, that I may be
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happy, that I may please Him, who is delighted to see me happy.
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Amen.
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1. Adoration. 2. Petition. 3. Thanks.
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Prel.
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Being mindful that before I address the DEITY, my Soul ought to
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be calm and Serene, free from Passion and Perturbation, or otherwise
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elevated with Rational Joy and Pleasure, I ought to use a Countenance
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that expresses a filial Respect, mixt with a kind of Smiling, that
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signifies inward Joy, and Satisfaction, and Admiration.
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O wise God,
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My good Father,
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Thou beholdest the Sincerity of my Heart,
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And of my Devotion;
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Grant me a Continuance of thy Favour!
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(1)
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Powerful Goodness, &c.
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O Creator, O Father, I believe that thou art Good, and that
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thou art _pleas'd with the Pleasure_ of thy Children.
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Praised be thy Name for Ever.
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(2)
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By thy Power hast thou made the glorious Sun, with his
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attending Worlds; from the Energy of thy mighty Will they first
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received their prodigious Motion, and by thy Wisdom hast thou
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prescribed the wondrous Laws by which they move.
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Praised be thy Name for ever.
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(3)
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By thy Wisdom hast thou formed all Things, Thou hast created
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Man, bestowing Life and Reason, and plac'd him in Dignity superior to
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thy other earthly Creatures.
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Praised be thy Name for ever.
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(4)
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Thy Wisdom, thy Power, and thy GOODNESS are every where clearly
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seen; in the Air and in the Water, in the Heavens and on the Earth;
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Thou providest for the various winged Fowl, and the innumerable
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Inhabitants of the Water; Thou givest Cold and Heat, Rain and
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Sunshine in their Season, and to the Fruits of the Earth Increase.
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Praised be thy Name for ever.
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(5)
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I believe thou hast given Life to thy Creatures that they might
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Live, and art not delighted with violent Death and bloody Sacrifices.
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Praised be thy Name for Ever.
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(6)
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Thou abhorrest in thy Creatures Treachery and Deceit, Malice,
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Revenge, Intemperance and every other hurtful Vice; but Thou art a
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Lover of Justice and Sincerity, of Friendship, Benevolence and every
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Virtue. Thou art my Friend, my Father, and my Benefactor.
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Praised be thy Name, O God, for Ever.
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Amen.
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After this, it will not be improper to read part of some such
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Book as Ray's Wisdom of God in the Creation or Blacmore on the
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Creation, or the Archbishop of Cambray's Demonstration of the Being
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of a God; &c. or else spend some Minutes in a serious Silence,
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contemplating on those Subjects.
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Then Sing
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Milton's Hymn to the Creator
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These are thy Glorious Works, Parent of Good!
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Almighty: Thine this Universal Frame,
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Thus wondrous fair! Thy self how wondrous then!
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Speak ye who best can tell, Ye Sons of Light,
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Angels, for ye behold him, and with Songs,
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And Choral Symphonies , Day without Night
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Circle his Throne rejoicing. You in Heav'n,
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On Earth, join all Ye Creatures to extol
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Him first, him last, him midst and without End.
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Fairest of Stars, last in the Train of Night,
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If rather thou belongst not to the Dawn,
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Sure Pledge of Day! That crown'st the smiling Morn
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With thy bright Circlet; Praise him in thy Sphere
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While Day arises, that sweet Hour of Prime.
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Thou Sun, of this Great World both Eye and Soul
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Acknowledge Him thy Greater, Sound his Praise
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In thy Eternal Course; both when thou climb'st,
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And when high Noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
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Moon! that now meet'st the orient Sun, now fly'st
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With the fix'd Stars, fix'd in their Orb that flies,
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And ye five other Wandring Fires, that move
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In mystic Dance, not without Song, resound
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His Praise, that out of Darkness call'd up Light.
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Air! and ye Elements! the Eldest Birth
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Of Nature's Womb, that in Quaternion run
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Perpetual Circle, multiform; and mix
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And nourish all Things, let your ceaseless Change
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Vary to our great Maker still new Praise.
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Ye Mists and Exhalations! that now rise
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From Hill or steaming Lake, dusky or grey,
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Till the Sun paint your fleecy Skirts with Gold,
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In Honour to the World's Great Author rise.
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Whether to deck with Clouds th' uncolour'd Sky
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Or wet the thirsty Earth with falling Show'rs,
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Rising or falling still advance his Praise.
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His Praise, ye Winds! that from 4 Quarters blow,
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Breathe soft or loud; and wave your Tops ye Pines!
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With every Plant, in Sign of Worship wave.
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Fountains! and ye that warble as ye flow
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Melodious Murmurs, warbling tune his Praise.
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Join Voices all ye living Souls, ye Birds!
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That singing, up to Heav'n's high Gate ascend,
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Bear on your Wings, and in your Notes his Praise.
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Ye that in Waters glide! and ye that walk
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The Earth! and stately Tread, or lowly Creep;
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Witness _if I be silent_, Ev'n orain or Fresh Shade,
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Made Vocal by my Song, and taught his Praise.
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Here follows the Reading of some Book or part of a Book
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Discoursing on and exciting to MORAL VIRTUR
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Petition.
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Prel.
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In as much as by Reason of our Ignorance We cannot be Certain
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that many Things Which we often hear mentioned in the Petitions of
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Men to the Deity, would prove REAL GOODS if they were in our
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Possession, and as I have Reason to hope and believe that the
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Goodness of my Heavenly Father will not withold from me a suitable
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Share of Temporal Blessings, if by a VIRTUOUS and HOLY Life I merit
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his Favour and Kindness, Therefore I presume not to ask such Things,
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but rather Humbly, and with a sincere Heart express my earnest
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Desires that he would graciously assist my Continual Endeavours and
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Resolutions of eschewing Vice and embracing Virtue; Which kind of
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Supplications will at least be thus far beneficial, as they remind me
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in a solemn manner of my Extensive DUTY.
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That I may be preserved from Atheism and Infidelity, Impiety
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and Profaneness, and in my Addresses to Thee carefully avoid
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Irreverence and Ostentation, Formality and odious Hypocrisy,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may be loyal to my Prince, and faithful to my Country,
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careful for its Good, valiant in its Defence, and obedient to its
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Laws, abhorring Treason as much as Tyranny,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may to those above me be dutiful, humble, and
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submissive, avoiding Pride, Disrespect and Contumacy,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may to those below me, be gracious, Condescending and
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Forgiving, using Clemency, protecting _Innocent Distress_, avoiding
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Cruelty, Harshness and Oppression, Insolence and unreasonable
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Severity,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may refrain from Calumny and Detraction; that I may
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avoid and abhor Deceit and Envy, Fraud, Flattery and Hatred, Malice,
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Lying and Ingratitude,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may be sincere in Friendship, faithful in Trust, and
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impartial in Judgment, watchful against Pride, and against Anger
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(that momentary Madness),
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Help me, O Father
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That I may be just in all my Dealings and temperate in my
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Pleasures, full of Candour and Ingenuity, Humanity and Benevolence,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may be grateful to my Benefactors and generous to my
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Friends, exerting Charity and Liberality to the Poor, and Pity to the
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Miserable,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may avoid Avarice, Ambition, and Intemperance, Luxury
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and Lasciviousness,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may possess Integrity and Evenness of Mind, Resolution
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in Difficulties, and Fortitude under Affliction; that I may be
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punctual in performing my Promises, peaceable and prudent in my
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Behaviour,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may have Tenderness for the Weak, and a reverent Respect
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for the Ancient; That I may be kind to my Neighbours, good-natured to
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my Companions, and hospitable to Strangers,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may be averse to Craft and Overreaching, abhor
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Extortion, Perjury, and every kind of Wickedness,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may be honest and Openhearted, gentle, merciful and
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Good, chearful in Spirit, rejoicing in the Good of Others,
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Help me, O Father
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That I may have a constant Regard to Honour and Probity; That I
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may possess a perfect Innocence and a good Conscience, and at length
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become Truly Virtuous and Magnanimous, Help me, Good God,
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Help me, O Father
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And forasmuch as Ingratitude is one of the most odious of
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Vices, let me not be unmindful gratefully to acknoledge the Favours I
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receive from Heaven.
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Thanks.
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For Peace and Liberty, for Food and Raiment, for Corn and Wine,
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and Milk, and every kind of Healthful Nourishment, _Good God, I Thank
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thee._
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For the Common Benefits of Air and Light, for useful Fire and
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delicious Water, _Good God, I Thank thee._
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For Knowledge and Literature and every useful Art; for my
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Friends and their Prosperity, and for the fewness of my Enemies,
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_Good God, I Thank thee._
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For all thy innumerable Benefits; For Life and Reason, and the
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Use of Speech, for Health and Joy and every Pleasant Hour, _my Good
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God, I thank thee._
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End of the first Part.
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_Epitaph_
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The Body of
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B. Franklin,
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Printer;
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Like the Cover of an old Book,
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Its Contents torn out,
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And stript of its Lettering and Gilding,
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Lies here, Food for Worms.
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But the Work shall not be wholly lost:
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For it will, as he believ'd, appear once more,
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In a new & more perfect Edition,
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Corrected and amended
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By the Author.
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He was born Jan. 6. 1706.
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Died 17
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1728
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_The Busy-Body, No. 1_
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Mr. _Andrew Bradford_,
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I design this to acquaint you, that I, who have long been one
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of your _Courteous Readers_, have lately entertain'd some Thoughts of
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setting up for an Author my Self; not out of the least Vanity, I
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assure you, or Desire of showing my Parts, but purely for the Good of
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my Country.
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I have often observ'd with Concern, that your _Mercury_ is not
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always equally entertaining. The Delay of Ships expected in, and
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want of fresh Advices from _Europe_, make it frequently very Dull;
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and I find the Freezing of our River has the same Effect on News as
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on Trade. -- With more Concern have I continually observ'd the
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growing Vices and Follies of my Country-folk. And tho' Reformation
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is properly the concern of every Man; that is, _Every one ought to
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mend One_; yet 'tis too true in this Case, that _what is every Body's
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Business is no Body's Business_, and the Business is done
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accordingly. I, therefore, upon mature Deliberation, think fit to
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take _no Body's Business_ wholly into my own Hands; and, out of Zeal
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for the Publick Good, design to erect my Self into a Kind of _Censor
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Morum_; proposing with your Allowance, to make Use of the _Weekly
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Mercury_ as a Vehicle in which my Remonstrances shall be convey'd to
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the World.
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I am sensible I have, in this Particular, undertaken a very
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unthankful Office, and expect little besides my Labour for my Pains.
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Nay, 'tis probable I may displease a great Number of your Readers,
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who will not very well like to pay 10 s a Year for being told of
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their Faults. But as most People delight in Censure when they
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themselves are not the Objects of it, if any are offended at my
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publickly exposing their private Vices, I promise they shall have the
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Satisfaction, in a very little Time, of seeing their good Friends and
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Neighbours in the same Circumstances.
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However, let the Fair Sex be assur'd, that I shall always treat
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them and their Affairs with the utmost _Decency_ and Respect. I
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intend now and then to dedicate a Chapter wholly to their Service;
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and if my Lectures any Way contribute to the Embellishment of their
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Minds, and Brightning of their Understandings, without offending
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their _Modesty_, I doubt not of having their Favour and
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Encouragement.
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'Tis certain, that no Country in the World produces naturally
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finer Spirits than ours, Men of Genius for every kind of Science, and
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capable of acquiring to Perfection every Qualification that is in
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Esteem among Mankind. But as few here have the Advantage of good
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Books, for want of which, good Conversation is still more scarce, it
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would doubtless have been very acceptable to your Readers, if,
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instead of an old out-of-date Article from _Muscovy_ or _Hungary_,
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you had entertained them with some well-chosen Extract from a good
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Author. This I shall sometimes do, _when I happen to have nothing of
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my own to say that I think of more Consequence._ Sometimes, I propose
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to deliver Lectures of Morality or Philosophy, and (because I am
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naturally enclin'd to be meddling with Things that don't concern me)
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perhaps I may sometimes talk Politicks. And if I can by any means
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furnish out a Weekly Entertainment for the Publick, that will give a
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rational Diversion, and at the same Time be instructive to the
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Readers, I shall think my Leisure Hours well employ'd: And if you
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publish this I hereby invite all ingenious Gentlemen and others,
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(that approve of such an Undertaking) to my Assistance and
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Correspondence.
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'Tis like by this Time you have a Curiosity to be acquainted
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with my Name and Character. As I do not aim at publick Praise I
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design to remain concealed; and there are such Numbers of our Family
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and Relations at this Time in the Country, that tho' I've sign'd my
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Name at full Length, I am not under the least Apprehension of being
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distinguish'd and discover'd by it. My Character indeed I would
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favour you with, but that I am cautious of praising my Self, lest I
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should be told _my Trumpeter's dead_: And I cannot find in my Heart,
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at present, to say any Thing to my own Disadvantage.
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It is very common with Authors in their First Performances to
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talk to their Readers thus, _If this meets with a SUITABLE
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_Reception_; Or, _If this should meet with DUE _Encouragement, I
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shall hereafter publish, &c._ This only manifests the Value they put
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on their own Writings, since they think to frighten the Publick into
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their Applause, by threatning, that unless you approve what they have
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already wrote, they intend never to write again; when perhaps, it
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mayn't be a Pin Matter whether they ever do or no. As I have not
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observ'd the Criticks to be more favourable on this Account, I shall
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always avoid saying any Thing of the Kind; and conclude with telling
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you, that if you send me a Bottle of Ink and a Quire of Paper by the
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Bearer, you may depend on hearing further from
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SIR,
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Your most humble Servant
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_The Busy Body._
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_No 1_.
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_The American Weekly Mercury_, February 4, 1728/9
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_The Busy-Body, No. 2_
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_All Fools have still an Itching to deride;
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And fain would be upon the laughing Side._ Pope.
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Monsieur _Rochefocaut_ tells us somewhere in his Memoirs, that
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the Prince of _Conde_ delighted much in Ridicule; and us'd frequently
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to shut himself up for Half a Day together in his Chamber with a
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Gentleman that was his Favourite, purposely to divert himself with
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examining what was the Foible or ridiculous side of every Noted
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Person in the Court. That Gentleman said afterwards in some Company,
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that he thought nothing was more ridiculous in any Body, than this
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same Humour in the Prince; and I am somewhat inclin'd to be of his
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|
Opinion. The General Tendency there is among us to this
|
|
Embellishment, (which I fear has too often been grossly imposed upon
|
|
my loving Countrymen instead of Wit) and the Applause it meets with
|
|
from a rising Generation, fill me with fearful Apprehensions for the
|
|
future Reputation of my Country: A young Man of Modesty (which is the
|
|
most certain Indication of large Capacities) is hereby discourag'd
|
|
from attempting to make any Figure in Life: His Apprehensions of
|
|
being out-laugh'd, will force him to continue in a restless
|
|
Obscurity, without having an Opportunity of knowing his own Merit
|
|
himself, or discovering it to the World, rather than venture to
|
|
expose himself in a Place where a Pun or a Sneer shall pass for Wit,
|
|
Noise for Reason, and the Strength of the Argument be judg'd by that
|
|
of the Lungs. Among these witty Gentlemen let us take a View of
|
|
_Ridentius_: What a contemptible Figure does he make with his Train
|
|
of paultry Admirers? This Wight shall give himself an Hours
|
|
Diversion with the Cock of a Man's Hat, the Heels of his Shoes, an
|
|
unguarded Expression in his Discourse, or even some Personal Defect;
|
|
and the Height of his low Ambition is to put some One of the Company
|
|
to the Blush, who perhaps must pay an equal Share of the Reckoning
|
|
with himself. If such a Fellow makes Laughing the sole End and
|
|
Purpose of his Life, if it is necessary to his Constitution, or if he
|
|
has a great Desire of growing suddenly fat, let him treat; let him
|
|
give publick Notice where any dull stupid Rogues may get a Quart of
|
|
Four-penny for being laugh'd at; but 'tis barbarously unhandsome,
|
|
when Friends meet for the Benefit of Conversation, and a proper
|
|
Relaxation from Business, that one should be the _Butt_ of the
|
|
Company, and Four Men made merry at the Cost of the Fifth.
|
|
|
|
How different from this Character is that of the good-natur'd
|
|
gay _Eugenius_? who never spoke yet but with a Design to divert and
|
|
please; and who was never yet baulk'd in his Intention. _Eugenius_
|
|
takes more Delight in applying the Wit of his Friends, than in being
|
|
admir'd himself: And if any one of the Company is so unfortunate as
|
|
to be touch'd a little too nearly, he will make Use of some ingenious
|
|
Artifice to turn the Edge of Ridicule another Way, chusing rather to
|
|
make even himself a publick Jest, than be at the Pain of seeing his
|
|
Friend in Confusion.
|
|
|
|
Among the Tribe of Laughers I reckon the _pretty Gentlemen_
|
|
that write _Satyrs_, and carry them about in their Pockets, reading
|
|
them themselves in all Company they happen into; taking an Advantage
|
|
of the ill Taste of the Town, to make themselves famous for a Pack of
|
|
paultry low Nonsence, for which they deserve to be kick'd, rather
|
|
than admir'd, by all who have the least Tincture of Politeness.
|
|
These I take to be the most incorrigible of all my Readers; nay I
|
|
expect they will be squibbing at the _BUSY-BODY_ himself: However the
|
|
only Favour he begs of them is this; that if they cannot controul
|
|
their over-bearing Itch of _Scribbling_, let him be attack'd in down
|
|
right _BITING LYRICKS_; for there is no _Satyr_ he Dreads half so
|
|
much as an Attempt towards a Panegyrick.
|
|
|
|
_The American Weekly Mercury_, February 11, 1728/9
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Busy-Body, No. 3_
|
|
|
|
_Non vultus instantis Tyranni
|
|
Mente quatit solida -- neque Auster
|
|
Dux inquieti turbidus Adriae,
|
|
Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus._ Hor.
|
|
|
|
It is said that the _Persians_ in their ancient Constitution,
|
|
had publick Schools in which Virtue was taught as a Liberal Art or
|
|
Science; and it is certainly of more Consequence to a Man that he has
|
|
learnt to govern his Passions; in spite of Temptation to be just in
|
|
his Dealings, to be Temperate in his Pleasures, to support himself
|
|
with Fortitude under his Misfortunes, to behave with Prudence in all
|
|
Affairs and in every Circumstance of Life; I say, it is of much more
|
|
real Advantage to him to be thus qualified, than to be a Master of
|
|
all the Arts and Sciences in the World beside.
|
|
|
|
_Virtue alone is sufficient to make a Man Great, Glorious and
|
|
Happy._ -- He that is acquainted with _CATO_, as I am, cannot help
|
|
thinking as I do now, and will acknowledge he deserves the Name
|
|
without being honour'd by it. _Cato_ is a Man whom Fortune has
|
|
plac'd in the most obscure Part of the Country. His Circumstances
|
|
are such as only put him above Necessity, without affording him many
|
|
Superfluities; Yet who is greater than _Cato_? -- I happened but the
|
|
other Day to be at a House in Town, where among others were met Men
|
|
of the most Note in this Place: _Cato_ had Business with some of
|
|
them, and knock'd at the Door. The most trifling Actions of a Man,
|
|
in my Opinion, as well as the smallest Features and Lineaments of the
|
|
Face, give a nice Observer some Notion of his Mind. Methought he
|
|
rapp'd in such a peculiar Manner, as seem'd of itself to express,
|
|
there was One who deserv'd as well as desir'd Admission. He appear'd
|
|
in the plainest Country Garb; his Great Coat was coarse and looked
|
|
old and thread-bare; his Linnen was homespun; his Beard perhaps of
|
|
Seven Days Growth, his Shoes thick and heavy, and every Part of his
|
|
Dress corresponding. Why was this Man receiv'd with such concurring
|
|
Respect from every Person in the Room, even from those who had never
|
|
known him or seen him before? It was not an exquisite Form of
|
|
Person, or Grandeur of Dress that struck us with Admiration. I
|
|
believe long Habits of Virtue have a sensible Effect on the
|
|
Countenance: There was something in the Air of his Face that
|
|
manifested the true Greatness of his Mind; which likewise appear'd in
|
|
all he said, and in every Part of his Behaviour, obliging us to
|
|
regard him with a Kind of Veneration. His Aspect is sweetned with
|
|
Humanity and Benevolence, and at the same Time emboldned with
|
|
Resolution, equally free from a diffident Bashfulness and an
|
|
unbecoming Assurance. The Consciousness of his own innate Worth and
|
|
unshaken Integrity renders him calm and undaunted in the Presence of
|
|
the most Great and Powerful, and upon the most extraordinary
|
|
Occasions. His strict Justice and known Impartiality make him the
|
|
Arbitrator and Decider of all Differences that arise for many Miles
|
|
around him, without putting his Neighbours to the Charge, Perplexity
|
|
and Uncertainty of Law-Suits. He always speaks the Thing he means,
|
|
which he is never afraid or asham'd to do, because he knows he always
|
|
means well; and therefore is never oblig'd to blush and feel the
|
|
Confusion of finding himself detected in the Meanness of a Falshood.
|
|
He never contrives Ill against his Neighbour, and therefore is never
|
|
seen with a lowring suspicious Aspect. A mixture of Innocence and
|
|
Wisdom makes him ever seriously chearful. His generous Hospitality
|
|
to Strangers according to his Ability, his Goodness, his Charity, his
|
|
Courage in the Cause of the Oppressed, his Fidelity in Friendship,
|
|
his Humility, his Honesty and Sincerity, his Moderation and his
|
|
Loyalty to the Government, his Piety, his Temperance, his Love to
|
|
Mankind, his Magnanimity, his Publick-spiritedness, and in fine, his
|
|
_Consummate Virtue_, make him justly deserve to be esteem'd the Glory
|
|
of his Country.
|
|
|
|
|
|
------ _The Brave do never shun the Light,
|
|
Just are their Thoughts and open are their Tempers;
|
|
Freely without Disguise they love and hate;
|
|
Still are they found in the fair Face of Day,
|
|
And Heaven and Men are Judges of their Actions._
|
|
Rowe.
|
|
|
|
Who would not rather chuse, if it were in his Choice, to merit
|
|
the above Character, than be the richest, the most learned, or the
|
|
most powerful Man in the Province without it?
|
|
|
|
Almost every Man has a strong natural Desire of being valu'd
|
|
and esteem'd by the rest of his Species; but I am concern'd and
|
|
griev'd to see how few fall into the Right and only infallible Method
|
|
of becoming so. That laudable Ambition is too commonly misapply'd
|
|
and often ill employ'd. Some to make themselves considerable pursue
|
|
Learning, others grasp at Wealth, some aim at being thought witty,
|
|
and others are only careful to make the most of an handsome Person;
|
|
But what is Wit, or Wealth, or Form, or Learning when compar'd with
|
|
Virtue? 'Tis true, we love the handsome, we applaud the Learned, and
|
|
we fear the Rich and Powerful; but we even Worship and adore the
|
|
Virtuous. -- Nor is it strange; since Men of Virtue, are so rare, so
|
|
very rare to be found. If we were as industrious to become Good, as
|
|
to make ourselves Great, we should become really Great by being Good,
|
|
and the Number of valuable Men would be much increased; but it is a
|
|
Grand Mistake to think of being Great without Goodness; and I
|
|
pronounce it as certain, _that there was never yet a truly Great Man
|
|
that was not at the same Time truly Virtuous._
|
|
|
|
O _Cretico_! Thou sowre Philosopher! Thou cunning States-man!
|
|
Thou art crafty, but far from being Wise. When wilt thou be
|
|
esteem'd, regarded and belov'd like _Cato_? When wilt thou, among
|
|
thy Creatures meet with that unfeign'd Respect and warm Good-will
|
|
that all Men have for him? Wilt thou never understand that the
|
|
cringing, mean, submissive Deportment of thy Dependants, is (like the
|
|
Worship paid by _Indians_ to the Devil) rather thro' Fear of the Harm
|
|
thou may'st do to them, than out of Gratitude for the Favours they
|
|
have receiv'd of thee? -- Thou art not wholly void of Virtue; there
|
|
are many good Things in thee, and many good Actions reported of thee.
|
|
Be advised by thy Friend: Neglect those musty Authors; let them be
|
|
cover'd with Dust, and moulder on their proper Shelves; and do thou
|
|
apply thy self to a Study much more profitable, The Knowledge of
|
|
Mankind, and of thy Self.
|
|
|
|
_This is to give Notice that the BUSY-BODY strictly forbids all
|
|
Persons, from this Time forward, of what Age, Sex, Rank, Quality,
|
|
Degree or Denomination soever, on any Pretence to enquire who is the
|
|
Author of this Paper, on Pain of his Displeasure, (his own near and
|
|
Dear Relations only excepted)._
|
|
|
|
_'Tis to be observ'd that if any bad Characters happen to be
|
|
drawn in the Course of these Papers, they mean no particular Person,
|
|
if they are not particularly apply'd._
|
|
|
|
_Likewise that the Author is no Partyman, but a general
|
|
Meddler._
|
|
|
|
N. B. Cretico _lives in a neighbouring Province_.
|
|
|
|
_The American Weekly Mercury_, February 18, 1728/9
|
|
|
|
_The Busy-Body, No. 4_
|
|
|
|
_Nequid nimis._
|
|
|
|
In my first Paper I invited the Learned and the Ingenious to
|
|
join with me in this Undertaking; and I now repeat that Invitation.
|
|
I would have such Gentlemen take this Opportunity, (by trying their
|
|
Talent in Writing) of diverting themselves and their Friends, and
|
|
improving the Taste of the Town. And because I would encourage all
|
|
Wit of our own Growth and Produce, I hereby promise, that whoever
|
|
shall send me a little Essay on some moral or other Subject, that is
|
|
fit for publick View in this Manner (and not basely borrow'd from any
|
|
other Author) I shall receive it with Candour, and take Care to place
|
|
it to the best Advantage. It will be hard if we cannot muster up in
|
|
the whole Country, a sufficient Stock of Sense to supply the
|
|
_Busy-Body_ at least for a Twelvemonth. For my own Part, I have
|
|
already profess'd that I have the Good of my Country wholly at Heart
|
|
in this Design, without the least sinister View; my chief Purpose
|
|
being to inculcate the noble Principles of Virtue, and depreciate
|
|
Vice of every kind. But as I know the Mob hate Instruction, and the
|
|
Generality would never read beyond the first Line of my Lectures, if
|
|
they were usually fill'd with nothing but wholesome Precepts and
|
|
Advice; I must therefore sometimes humour them in their own Way.
|
|
There are a Set of Great Names in the Province, who are the common
|
|
Objects of Popular Dislike. If I can now and then overcome my
|
|
Reluctance, and prevail with my self to Satyrize a little, one of
|
|
these Gentlemen, the Expectation of meeting with such a
|
|
Gratification, will induce many to read me through, who would
|
|
otherwise proceed immediately to the Foreign News. As I am very well
|
|
assured that the greatest Men among us have a sincere Love for their
|
|
Country, notwithstanding its Ingratitude, and the Insinuations of the
|
|
Envious and Malicious to the contrary, so I doubt not but they will
|
|
chearfully tolerate me in the Liberty I design to take for the End
|
|
above mentioned.
|
|
|
|
As yet I have but few Correspondents, tho' they begin now to
|
|
increase. The following Letter, left for me at the Printers, is one
|
|
of the first I have receiv'd, which I regard the more for that it
|
|
comes from one of the Fair Sex, and because I have my self oftentimes
|
|
suffer'd under the Grievance therein complain'd of.
|
|
|
|
_To the Busy-Body._
|
|
|
|
_Sir,_
|
|
`You having set your self up for a _Censuror Morum_ (as I think
|
|
you call it) which is said to mean a _Reformer of Manners_, I know no
|
|
Person more proper to be apply'd to for Redress in all the Grievances
|
|
we suffer from _Want of Manners_ in some People. You must know I am
|
|
a single Woman, and keep a Shop in this Town for a Livelyhood. There
|
|
is a certain Neighbour of mine, who is really agreeable Company
|
|
enough, and with whom I have had an Intimacy of some Time standing;
|
|
But of late she makes her Visits so excessively often, and stays so
|
|
very long every Visit, that I am tir'd out of all Patience. I have
|
|
no Manner of Time at all to my self; and you, who seem to be a wise
|
|
Man, must needs be sensible that every Person has little Secrets and
|
|
Privacies that are not proper to be expos'd even to the nearest
|
|
Friend. Now I cannot do the least Thing in the World, but she must
|
|
know all about it; and it is a Wonder I have found an Opportunity to
|
|
write you this Letter. My Misfortune is, that I respect her very
|
|
well, and know not how to disoblige her so much as to tell her I
|
|
should be glad to have less of her Company; for if I should once hint
|
|
such a Thing, I am afraid she would resent it so as never to darken
|
|
my Door again. -- But, alas, Sir, I have not yet told you half my
|
|
Afflictions. She has two Children that are just big enough to run
|
|
about and do pretty Mischief: These are continually along with
|
|
_Mamma_, either in my Room or Shop, if I have never so many Customers
|
|
or People with me about Business. Sometimes they pull the Goods off
|
|
my low Shelves down to the Ground, and perhaps where one of them has
|
|
just been making Water; My Friend takes up the Stuff, and cries, _Eh!
|
|
thou little wicked mischievous Rogue! -- But however, it has done no
|
|
great Damage; 'tis only wet a little_; and so puts it up upon the
|
|
Shelf again. Sometimes they get to my Cask of Nails behind the
|
|
Counter, and divert themselves, to my great Vexation, with mixing my
|
|
Ten-penny and Eight-penny and Four-penny together. I Endeavour to
|
|
conceal my Uneasiness as much as possible, and with a grave Look go
|
|
to Sorting them out. She cries, _Don't thee trouble thy self,
|
|
Neighbour: Let them play a little; I'll put all to rights my self
|
|
before I go._ But Things are never so put to rights but that I find a
|
|
great deal of Work to do after they are gone. Thus, Sir, I have all
|
|
the Trouble and Pesterment of Children, without the Pleasure of --
|
|
calling them my own; and they are now so us'd to being here that they
|
|
will be content no where else. If she would have been so kind as to
|
|
have moderated her Visits to ten times a Day, and stay'd but half an
|
|
hour at a Time, I should have been contented, and I believe never
|
|
have given you this Trouble: But this very Morning they have so
|
|
tormented me that I could bear no longer; For while the Mother was
|
|
asking me twenty impertinent Questions, the youngest got to my Nails,
|
|
and with great Delight rattled them by handfuls all over the Floor;
|
|
and the other at the same Time made such a terrible Din upon my
|
|
Counter with a Hammer, that I grew half distracted. I was just then
|
|
about to make my self a new Suit of Pinners, but in the Fret and
|
|
Confusion I cut it quite out of all Manner of Shape, and utterly
|
|
spoil'd a Piece of the first Muslin. Pray, Sir, tell me what I shall
|
|
do. And talk a little against such unreasonable Visiting in your
|
|
next Paper: Tho' I would not have her affronted with me for a great
|
|
Deal, for sincerely I love her and her Children as well I think, as a
|
|
Neighbour can, and she buys a great many Things in a Year at my Shop.
|
|
But I would beg her to consider that she uses me unmercifully; Tho' I
|
|
believe it is only for want of Thought. -- But I have twenty Things
|
|
more to tell you besides all this; There is a handsome Gentleman that
|
|
has a Mind (I don't question) to make love to me, but he can't get
|
|
the least Opportunity to -- : O dear, here she comes again; -- I must
|
|
conclude
|
|
Yours, &c.
|
|
Patience.'
|
|
|
|
Indeed, 'tis well enough, as it happens, that _she is come_, to
|
|
shorten this Complaint which I think is full long enough already, and
|
|
probably would otherwise have been as long again. However, I must
|
|
confess I cannot help pitying my Correspondent's Case, and in her
|
|
Behalf exhort the Visitor to remember and consider the Words of the
|
|
Wise Man, _Withdraw thy Foot from the House of thy Neighbour least he
|
|
grow weary of thee, and so hate thee._ It is, I believe, a nice thing
|
|
and very difficult, to regulate our Visits in such a Manner, as never
|
|
to give Offence by coming too seldom, or too often, or departing too
|
|
abruptly, or staying too long. However, in my Opinion, it is safest
|
|
for most People, in a general way, who are unwilling to disoblige, to
|
|
visit seldom, and tarry but a little while in a Place;
|
|
notwithstanding pressing Invitations, which are many times insincere.
|
|
And tho' more of your Company should be really desir'd; yet in this
|
|
Case, too much Reservedness is a Fault more easily excus'd than the
|
|
Contrary.
|
|
|
|
Men are subjected to various Inconveniences meerly through lack
|
|
of a small Share of Courage, which is a Quality very necessary in the
|
|
common Occurences of Life, as well as in a Battle. How many
|
|
Impertinences do we daily suffer with great Uneasiness, because we
|
|
have not Courage enough to discover our Dislike? And why may not a
|
|
Man use the Boldness and Freedom of telling his Friends that their
|
|
long Visits sometimes incommode him? -- On this Occasion, it may be
|
|
entertaining to some of my Readers, if I acquaint them with the
|
|
_Turkish_ Manner of entertaining Visitors, which I have from an
|
|
Author of unquestionable Veracity; who assures us, that even the
|
|
Turks are not so ignorant of Civility, and the Arts of Endearment,
|
|
but that they can practice them with as much Exactness as any other
|
|
Nation, whenever they have a Mind to shew themselves obliging.
|
|
|
|
`When you visit a Person of Quality, (says he) and have talk'd
|
|
over your Business, or the Complements, or whatever Concern brought
|
|
you thither, he makes a Sign to have Things serv'd in for the
|
|
Entertainment, which is generally, a little Sweetmeat, a Dish of
|
|
Sherbet, and another of Coffee; all which are immediately brought in
|
|
by the Servants, and tender'd to all the Guests in Order, with the
|
|
greatest Care and Awfulness imaginable. At last comes the finishing
|
|
Part of your Entertainment, which is, Perfuming the Beards of the
|
|
Company; a Ceremony which is perform'd in this Manner. They have for
|
|
the Purpose a small Silver Chaffing-Dish, cover'd with a Lid full of
|
|
Holes, and fixed upon a handsome Plate. In this they put some fresh
|
|
Coals, and upon them a piece of _Lignum Aloes_, and shutting it up,
|
|
the Smoak immediately ascends with a grateful Odour thro' the Holes
|
|
of the Cover. This Smoak is held under every one's Chin, and offer'd
|
|
as it were a Sacrifice to his Beard. The bristly Idol soon receives
|
|
the Reverence done to it, and so greedily takes in and incorporates
|
|
the gummy Steam, that it retains the Savour of it, and may serve for
|
|
a Nosegay a good while after.
|
|
|
|
`This Ceremony may perhaps seem ridiculous at first hearing;
|
|
but it passes among the _Turks_ for an high Gratification. And I
|
|
will say this in its Vindication, that it's Design is very wise and
|
|
useful. For it is understood to give a civil Dismission to the
|
|
Visitants; intimating to them, that the Master of the House has
|
|
Business to do, or some other Avocation, that permits them to go away
|
|
as soon as they please; and the sooner after this Ceremony the
|
|
better. By this Means you may, at any Time, without Offence, deliver
|
|
your self from being detain'd from your Affairs by tedious and
|
|
unseasonable Visits; and from being constrain'd to use that Piece of
|
|
Hypocrisy so common in the World, of pressing those to stay longer
|
|
with you, whom perhaps in your Heart you wish a great Way off for
|
|
having troubled you so long already.'
|
|
|
|
Thus far my Author. For my own Part, I have taken such a Fancy
|
|
to this Turkish Custom, that for the future I shall put something
|
|
like it in Practice. I have provided a Bottle of right French Brandy
|
|
for the Men, and Citron-Water for the Ladies. After I have treated
|
|
with a Dram, and presented a Pinch of my best Snuff, I expect all
|
|
Company will retire, and leave me to pursue my Studies for the Good
|
|
of the Publick.
|
|
|
|
Advertisement.
|
|
|
|
_I give Notice that I am now actually compiling, and design to
|
|
publish in a short Time, the true History of the Rise, Growth and
|
|
Progress of the renowned_ Tiff-Club. _All Persons who are acquainted
|
|
with any Facts, Circumstances, Characters, Transactions,_ &c. _which
|
|
will be requisite to the Perfecting and Embellishment of the said
|
|
Work, are desired to communicate the same to the Author, and direct
|
|
their Letters to be left with the Printer hereof._
|
|
|
|
The Letter sign'd _Would-be-something_ is come to hand.
|
|
|
|
_The American Weekly Mercury_, February 25, 1728/9
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_The Busy-Body, No. 5_
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_Vos, O Patricius sanguis, quos vivere fas est
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Occipiti caeco, posticae occurrite sannae_. Persius.
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This Paper being design'd for a Terror to Evil-Doers, as well
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as a Praise to them that do well, I am lifted up with secret Joy to
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find that my Undertaking is approved, and encourag'd by the Just and
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Good, and that few are against me but those who have Reason to fear
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me.
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There are little Follies in the Behaviour of most Men, which
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their best Friends are too tender to acquaint them with: There are
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little Vices and small Crimes which the Law has no Regard to, or
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Remedy for: There are likewise great Pieces of Villany sometimes so
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craftily accomplish'd, and so circumspectly guarded, that the Law can
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take no Hold of the Actors. All these Things, and all Things of this
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Nature, come within my Province as _CENSOR_, and I am determined not
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to be negligent of the Trust I have reposed in my self, but resolve
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to execute my Office diligently and Faithfully.
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And that all the World may judge with how much Humanity as well
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as Justice I shall behave in this Office; and that even my Enemies
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may be convinc'd I take no Delight to rake into the Dunghill Lives of
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vicious Men; and to the End that certain Persons may be a little
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eas'd of their Fears, and reliev'd from the terrible Palpitations
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they have lately felt and suffer'd, and do still suffer; I hereby
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graciously pass an Act of general Oblivion, for all Offences, Crimes
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and Misdemeanors of what Kind soever, committed from the Beginning of
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Year sixteen hundred and eighty one, until the Day of the Date of my
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first Paper; and promise only to concern my self with such as have
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been since and shall hereafter be committed. I shall take no Notice
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who has, (heretofore) rais'd a Fortune by Fraud and Oppression, nor
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who by Deceit and Hypocrisy: What Woman has been false to her good
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Husband's Bed; nor what Man has, by barbarous Usage or Neglect, broke
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the Heart of a faithful Wife, and wasted his Health and Substance in
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Debauchery: What base Wretch has betray'd his Friend, and sold his
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Honesty for Gold, nor what yet baser Wretch, first corrupted him and
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then bought the Bargain: All this, and much more of the same Kind I
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shall forget and pass over in Silence; -- but then it is to be
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observed that I expect and require a sudden and general Amendment.
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These Threatnings of mine I hope will have a good Effect, and,
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if regarded, may prevent abundance of Folly and Wickedness in others,
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and at the same Time save me abundance of Trouble. And that People
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may not flatter themselves with the Hopes of concealing their
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Misdemeanours from my Knowledge, and in that View persist in
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Evil-doing, I must acquaint them, that I have lately enter'd into an
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Intimacy with the extraordinary Person who some Time since wrote me
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the following Letter; and who, having a Wonderful Faculty that
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enables him to discover the most secret Iniquity, is capable of
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giving me great Assistance in my designed Work of Reformation.
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_Mr. Busy-Body_.
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`I rejoice Sir, at the Opportunity you have given me to be
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serviceable to you, and by your Means to this Province. You must
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know, that such have been the Circumstances of my Life, and such were
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the marvellous Concurrences of my Birth, that I have not only a
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Faculty of discovering the Actions of Persons that are absent or
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asleep; but even of the Devil himself in many of his secret Workings,
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in the various Shapes, Habits and Names of Men and Women. And having
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travel'd and conversed much and met but with a very few of the same
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Perceptions and Qualifications, I can recommend my Self to you as the
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most useful Man you can correspond with. My Father's Father's Father
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(for we had no Grandfathers in our Family) was the same _John Bunyan_
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that writ that memorable Book _The Pilgrim's Progress_, who had in
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some Degree a natural Faculty of _Second Sight_. This Faculty (how
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derived to him, our Family Memoirs are not very clear) was enjoy'd by
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all his Descendants, but not by equal Talents -- 'Twas very dim in
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several of my first Cousins, and probably had been nearly extinct in
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our particular Branch, had not my Father been a Traveller -- He lived
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in his youthful Days in _New-England_. There he married, and there
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was born my elder Brother, who had so much of this Faculty, as to
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discover Witches in some of their occult Performances. My Parents
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transporting themselves to _Great Britain_ my second Brother's Birth
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was in that Kingdom -- He shared but a small Portion of this Virtue,
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being only able to discern Transactions about the Time, and for the
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most Part after their happening. My good Father, who delighted in
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the _Pilgrim's Progress_, and mountainous Places, took Shipping with
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his Wife for _Scotland_, and inhabited in the Highlands, where my
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Self was born; and whether the Soil, Climate or Astral Influences, of
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which are preserved divers Prognosticks, restored our Ancestors
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Natural Faculty of _Second Sight_, in a greater Lustre to me than it
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had shined in thro' several Generations, I will not here discuss.
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But so it is, that I am possess'd largely of it, and design if you
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encourage the Proposal, to take this Opportunity of doing good with
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it, which I question not will be accepted of in a grateful Way, by
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many of your honest Readers, Tho' the Discovery of my Extraction
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bodes me no Deference from your great Scholars and modern
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Philosophers. This my Father was long ago aware of, and lest the
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Name alone should hurt the Fortunes of his Children; he in his
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Shiftings from one Country to another wisely changed it.
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`Sir, I have only this further to say, how I may be useful to
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you & as a Reason for my not making my Self more known in the World:
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By Virtue of this Great Gift of Nature _Second-Sightedness_. I do
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continually see Numbers of Men, Women and Children of all Ranks, and
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what they are doing, while I am sitting in my Closet; which is too
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great a Burthen for the Mind, and makes me also conceit even against
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Reason, that all this Host of People can see and observe me, which
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strongly inclines me to Solitude and an obscure Living; and on the
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other Hand, it will be an Ease to me to disburthen my Thoughts and
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Observations in the Way proposed to you by, Sir, your Friend, and
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humble Servant. ------ '
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I conceal this Correspondent's Name in my Care for his Life and
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Safety, and cannot but approve his Prudence in chusing to live
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obscurely. I remember the Fate of my poor Monkey: He had an
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ill-natur'd Trick of grinning and chattering at every Thing he saw in
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Pettycoats. My ignorant Country Neighbours got a Notion that _Pugg_
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snarl'd by instinct at every Female who had lost her Virginity. This
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was no sooner generally believ'd than he was condemn'd to Death; By
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whom I could never learn, but he was assassinated in the Night,
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barbarously stabb'd and mangled in a Thousand Places, and left
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hanging dead on one of my Gate posts, where I found him the next
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Morning.
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_The_ Censor _observing that the_ Itch of Scribbling _begins to
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spread exceedingly, and being carefully tender of the Reputation of
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his Country in Point of_ Wit _and_ Good Sense, _has determined to
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take all manner of Writings, in Verse or Prose, that pretend to
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either, under his immediate Cognizance; and accordingly hereby
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prohibits the Publishing any such for the future, 'till they have
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first pass'd his Examination, and receiv'd his_ Imprimatur. _For
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which he demands as a Fee only 6_ d. _per Sheet_.
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N. B. _He nevertheless permits to be published all Satyrical
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Remarks on the_ Busy-Body, _the above Prohibition notwithstanding,
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and without Examination, or requiring the said Fees: which Indulgence
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the small Wits in and about this City are advised gratefully to
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accept and acknowledge.
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_The Gentleman who calls himself_ Sirronio, _is directed, on
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the Receipt of this, to burn his great Book of_ Crudities.
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P. S. _In Compassion to that young Man on Account of the great
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Pains he has taken; in Consideration of the Character I have just
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receiv'd of him, that he is really_ _Good-natured; _and on Condition
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he shows it to no Foreigner or Stranger of Sense, I have thought fit
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to reprieve his said_ _great Book of Crudities _from the Flames,
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'till further Order_.
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_Noli me tangere_.
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I had resolved when I first commenc'd this Design, on no
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Account to enter into a publick Dispute with any Man; for I judg'd it
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would be equally unpleasant to me and my Readers, to see this Paper
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fill'd with contentious Wrangling, Answers, Replies, _&c_. which is a
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Way of Writing that is Endless, and at the same time seldom contains
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any Thing that is either edifying or entertaining. Yet when such a
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considerable Man as Mr. ------ finds himself concern'd so warmly to
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accuse and condemn me, as he has done in _Keimer_'s last
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_Instructor_, I cannot forbear endeavouring to say something in my
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own Defence, from one of the worst of Characters that could be given
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of me by a Man of Worth. But as I have many Things of more
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Consequence to offer the Publick, I declare that I will never, after
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this Time, take Notice of any Accusations not better supported with
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Truth and Reason; much less may every little Scribbler, that shall
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attack me, expect an Answer from the _Busy-Body_.
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The Sum of the _Charge deliver'd_ against me, either directly
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or indirectly in the said Paper, is this. Not to mention the first
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weighty Sentence concerning _Vanity and Ill-Nature_, and the shrew'd
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Intimation _that I am without Charity, and therefore can have no
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Pretence to Religion_, I am represented as guilty of _Defamation and
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Scandal, the Odiousness of which is apparent to every good Man, and
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the Practice of it opposite to Christianity, Morality, and common
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Justice, and in some Cases so far below all these as to be inhumane_.
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As a _Blaster of Reputations_. As _attempting by a Pretence to
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screen my Self from the Imputation of Malice and Prejudice_. As
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_using a Weapon which the Wiser and better Part of Mankind hold in
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Abhorrence_: And as _giving Treatment which the wiser and better Part
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of Mankind dislike on the same Principles, and for the same Reason as
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they do Assassination_. &c, And all this, is infer'd and concluded
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from a Character I wrote in my Number 3.
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In order to examine the Justice and Truth of this heavy Charge,
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let us recur to that Character. -- And here we may be surpriz'd to
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find what a Trifle has rais'd this mighty Clamour and Complaint, this
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Grievous Accusation! -- The worst Thing said of the Person, in what
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is called my gross Description, (be he who he will to whom my Accuser
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has apply'd the Character of _Cretico_) is, that he is a _sower
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Philosopher, crafty, but not wise_: Few Humane Characters can be
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drawn that will not fit some body, in so large a Country as this; But
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one would think, supposing I meant _Cretico_ a real Person, I had
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sufficiently manifested my impartiality, when I said in that very
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Paragraph, _That_ Cretico _is not without Virtue; that there are MANY
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good Things in him, and MANY good Actions reported of him_; Which
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must be allow'd in all Reason, very much to overballance in his
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Favour those worst Words, _sowre Temper'd_ and _cunning_. Nay my
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very Enemy and Accuser must have been sensible of this, when he
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freely acknowledges, _that he has been seriously considering, and
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cannot yet determine, which he would chuse to be, the_ Cato _or_
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Cretico _of that Paper_: Since my _Cato_ is one of the best of
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Characters.
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Thus much in my own Vindication. As to the _only reasons_
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there given why I ought not to continue drawing Characters, viz.
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_Why should any Man's Picture be published which he never sat for; or
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his good Name taken from him any more than his Money or Possessions
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at the arbitrary Will of another,_ &c? I have but this to answer.
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The Money or Possessions I presume are nothing to the Purpose, since
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no Man can claim a Right either to those or a good Name, if he has
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acted so as to forfeit them. And are not the Publick the only Judges
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what Share of Reputation they think proper to allow any Man? --
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Supposing I was capable, and had an Inclination to draw all the good
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and bad Characters in _America_; Why should a good Man be offended
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with me for drawing good Characters? And if I draw Ill Ones, can
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they fit any but those that deserve them? And ought any _but such_
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to be concern'd that they have their Deserts? I have as great an
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Aversion and Abhorrence from Defamation and Scandal as any Man, and
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would with the utmost Care avoid being guilty of such base Things:
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Besides I am very sensible and certain, that if I should make use of
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this Paper to defame any Person, my Reputation would be sooner hurt
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by it than his, and the _Busy-Body_ would quickly become detestable;
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because in such a Case, as is justly observ'd, _The Pleasure arising
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from a Taste of Wit and Novelty soon dies away in generous and Honest
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Minds, and is follow'd with a secret Grief to see their Neighbours
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calumniated_. But if I my self was actually the worst Man in the
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Province, and any one should draw my true Character, would it not be
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ridiculous in me to say, _he had defam'd and scandaliz'd me_; unless
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added, _in a Matter of Truth_? -- If any Thing is meant by asking,
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_Why any Man's Picture should be publish'd which he never sate for?_
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It must be, that we should give no Character without the Owner's
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Consent. If I discern the Wolf disguis'd in harmless Wool, and
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contriving the Destruction of my Neighbour's Sheep, must I have his
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Permission before I am allow'd to discover and prevent him? If I
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know a Man to be a designing Knave, must I ask his Consent to bid my
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Friends beware of him? If so, Then by the same Rule, supposing the
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_Busy-Body_ had really merited all his Enemy has charg'd him with,
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his Consent likewise ought to have been obtain'd before so terrible
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an Accusation was published against him.
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I shall conclude with observing, that in the last Paragraph
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save one of the Piece now examin'd, much _ILL-NATURE_ and some Good
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Sense are _Co-inhabitants_, (as he expresses it.) The _Ill Nature_
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appears, in his endeavouring to discover Satyr, where I intended no
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such Thing, but quite the Reverse: The good Sense is this, _that
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drawing too good a Character of any one, is a refined Manner of Satyr
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that may be as injurious to him as the contrary, by bringing on an
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Examination that undresses the Person, and in the Haste of doing it,
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he may happen to be stript of what he really owns and deserves_. As
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I am _Censor_, I might punish the first, but I forgive it. Yet I
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will not leave the latter unrewarded; but assure my Adversary, that
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in Consideration of the Merit of those four Lines, I am resolved to
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forbear _injuring_ him on any Account in that _refined Manner_.
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_I thank my Neighbour_ P -- w -- l _for his kind Letter_. The
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Lions complain'd of shall be muzzled.
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_The American Weekly Mercury_, March 4, 1728/9
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_The Busy-Body, No. 8_
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------ _Quid non mortalia Pectora cogis
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Auri sacra Fames!_ Virgil.
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One of the greatest Pleasures an Author can have is
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certainly the Hearing his Works applauded. The hiding from the World
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our Names while we publish our Thoughts, is so absolutely necessary
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to this Self-Gratification, that I hope my Well-wishers will
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congratulate me on my Escape from the many diligent, but fruitless
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Enquires that have of late been made after me. Every Man will own,
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That an Author, as such, ought to be try'd by the Merit of his
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Productions only; but Pride, Party, and Prejudice at this Time run so
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very high, that Experience shews we form our Notions of a Piece by
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the Character of the Author. Nay there are some very humble
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Politicians in and about this City, who will ask on which Side the
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Writer is, before they presume to give their Opinion of the Thing
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wrote. This ungenerous Way of Proceeding I was well aware of before
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I publish'd my first Speculation; and therefore concealed my Name.
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And I appeal to the more generous Part of the World, if I have since
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I appear'd in the Character of the _Busy-Body_ given an Instance of
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my siding with any Party more than another, in the unhappy Divisions
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of my Country; and I have above all, this Satisfaction in my Self,
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That neither Affection, Aversion or Interest, have byass'd me to use
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any Partiality towards any Man, or Sett of Men; but whatsoever I find
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nonsensically ridiculous, or immorally dishonest, I have, and shall
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continue openly to attack with the Freedom of an honest Man, and a
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Lover of my Country.
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I profess I can hardly contain my Self, or preserve the Gravity
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and Dignity that should attend the _Censorial-Office_, when I hear
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the odd and unaccountable Expositions that are put upon some of my
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Works, thro' the malicious Ignorance of some, and the vain Pride of
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more than ordinary Penetration in others; one Instance of which many
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of my Readers are acquainted with. A certain Gentleman has taken a
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great Deal of Pains to write a _KEY_ to the Letter in my _No._ 4.
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wherein he has ingeniously converted a gentle Satyr upon tedious and
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impertinent Visitants into a Libel on some in the Government: This I
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mention only as a Specimen of the Taste of the Gentlemen, I am
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forsooth, bound to please in my Speculations, not that I suppose my
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Impartiality will ever be called in Question upon that Account.
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Injustices of this Nature I could complain of in many Instancies; but
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I am at present diverted by the Reception of a Letter, which tho' it
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regards me only in my Private Capacity, as an Adept, yet I venture to
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publish it for the Entertainment of my Readers.
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To CENSOR MORUM, _Esq_; _Busy-Body_ General of the Province of
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_Pennsylvania_, and the Counties of _Newcastle_, _Kent_, and
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_Sussex_, upon _Delaware_.
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_Honourable Sir,_
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`I judge by your Lucubrations, that you are not only a Lover of
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Truth and Equity, but a Man of Parts and Learning, and a Master of
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Science; as such I honour you. Know then, _Most profound Sir_, That
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I have from my Youth up, been a very indefatigable Student in, and
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Admirer of that Divine Science, _Astrology_. I have read over
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_Scot_, _Albertus Magnus_, and _Cornelius Agrippa_ above 300 Times;
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and was in hopes by my Knowledge and Industry, to gain enough to have
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recompenced me for my Money expended, and Time lost in the Pursuit of
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this Learning. You cannot be ignorant _Sir_, (for your intimate
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_Second sighted_ Correspondent knows all Things) that there are large
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Sums of Money hidden under Ground in divers Places about this Town,
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and in many Parts of the Country; But alas, Sir, Notwithstanding I
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have used all the Means laid down in the _immortal Authors_
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before-mentioned, and when they fail'd, the ingenious Mr. _P -- d --
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l_ with his _Mercurial Wand_ and _Magnet_, I have still fail'd in my
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Purpose. This therefore I send to Propose and desire an Acquaintance
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with you, and I do not doubt, notwithstanding my repeated
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Ill-Fortune, but we may be exceedingly serviceable to each other in
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our Discoveries; and that if we use our united Endeavours, the Time
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will come when the _Busy-Body_, his _Second-sighted Correspondent_,
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and _your very humble Servant_, will be Three of the richest Men in
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the Province: And then Sir, what may not we do? _A Word to the Wise
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is sufficient,_
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I conclude with all demonstrable Respect,
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Yours, and _Urania_'s Votary,
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_Titan Pleiades_.'
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In the Evening after I had received this Letter, I made a Visit
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to my _Second-sighted_ Friend, and communicated to him the Proposal.
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When he had read it, he assur'd me, that to his certain Knowledge
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there is not at this Time so much as one Ounce of Silver or Gold hid
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under Ground in any Part of this Province, For that the late and
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present Scarcity of Money had obliged those who were living, and knew
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where they had formerly hid any, to take it up, and use it in their
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own necessary Affairs: And as to all the Rest which was buried by
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Pyrates and others in old Times, who were never like to come for it,
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he himself had long since dug it all up and applied it to charitable
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Uses, And this he desired me to publish for general Good. For, as he
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acquainted me, There are among us great Numbers of honest Artificers
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and labouring People, who fed with a vain Hope of growing suddenly
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rich, neglect their Business, almost to the ruining of themselves and
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Families, and voluntarily endure abundance of Fatigue in a fruitless
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Search after Imaginary hidden Treasure. They wander thro' the Woods
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and Bushes by Day, to discover the Marks and Signs; at Midnight they
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repair to the hopeful Spot with Spades and Pickaxes; full of
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Expectation they labour violently, trembling at the same Time in
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every Joint, thro' Fear of certain malicious Demons who are said to
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haunt and guard such Places. At length a mighty hole is dug, and
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perhaps several Cart-loads of Earth thrown out, but alas, no Cag or
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Iron Pot is found! no Seaman's Chest cram'd with Spanish Pistoles, or
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weighty Pieces of Eight! Then they conclude, that thro' some Mistake
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in the Procedure, some rash Word spoke, or some Rule of Art
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neglected, the Guardian Spirit had Power to sink it deeper into the
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Earth and convey it out of their Reach. Yet when a Man is once thus
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infatuated, he is so far from being discouraged by ill Success, that
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he is rather animated to double his Industry, and will try again and
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again in a Hundred Different Places, in Hopes at last of meeting with
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some lucky Hit, that shall at once Sufficiently reward him for all
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his Expence of Time and Labour.
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This odd Humour of Digging for Money thro' a Belief that much
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has been hid by Pirates formerly frequenting the River, has for
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|
several Years been mighty prevalent among us; insomuch that you can
|
|
hardly walk half a Mile out of Town on any Side, without observing
|
|
several Pits dug with that Design, and perhaps some lately opened.
|
|
Men, otherwise of very good Sense, have been drawn into this Practice
|
|
thro' an over weening Desire of sudden Wealth, and an easy Credulity
|
|
of what they so earnestly wish'd might be true. While the rational
|
|
and almost certain Methods of acquiring Riches by Industry and
|
|
Frugality are neglected or forgotten. There seems to be some
|
|
peculiar Charm in the conceit of _finding_ Money; and if the Sands of
|
|
_Schuylkil_ were so much mixed with small Grains of Gold, that a Man
|
|
might in a Day's Time with Care and Application get together to the
|
|
Value of half a Crown, I make no Question but we should find several
|
|
People employ'd there, that can with Ease earn Five Shillings a Day
|
|
at their proper Trades.
|
|
|
|
Many are the idle Stories told of the private Success of some
|
|
People, by which others are encouraged to proceed; and the
|
|
Astrologers, with whom the Country swarms at this Time, are either in
|
|
the Belief of these things themselves, or find their Advantage in
|
|
persuading others to believe them; for they are often consulted about
|
|
the critical Times for Digging, the Methods of laying the Spirit, and
|
|
the like Whimseys, which renders them very necessary to and very much
|
|
caress'd by the poor deluded _Money-hunters_.
|
|
|
|
There is certainly something very bewitching in the Pursuit
|
|
after Mines of Gold and Silver, and other valuable Metals; And many
|
|
have been ruined by it. A Sea Captain of my Acquaintance used to
|
|
blame the _English_ for envying _Spain_ their Mines of Silver; and
|
|
too much despising or overlooking the Advantages of their own
|
|
Industry and Manufactures. For my Part, says he, I esteem the Banks
|
|
of _Newfoundland_ to be a more valuable Possession than the Mountains
|
|
of _Potosi_; and when I have been there on the Fishing Account, have
|
|
look'd upon every Cod puli'd up into the Vessel as a certain Quantity
|
|
of Silver Ore, which required only carrying to the next _Spanish_
|
|
Port to be coin'd into Pieces of Eight; not to mention the _National
|
|
Profit_ of fitting out and Employing such a Number of Ships and
|
|
Seamen. Let honest _Peter Buckrum_, who has long without Success
|
|
been a Searcher after hidden Money, reflect on this, and be reclaimed
|
|
from that unaccountable Folly. Let him consider that every Stitch he
|
|
takes when he is on his Shop-board, is picking up part of a Grain of
|
|
Gold that will in a few Days Time amount to a Pistole; And let
|
|
_Faber_ think the same of every Nail he drives, or every Stroke with
|
|
his Plain. Such Thoughts may make them industrious, and of
|
|
consequence in Time they may be Wealthy. But how absurd is it to
|
|
neglect a certain Profit for such a ridiculous Whimsey: To spend
|
|
whole Days at the _George_, in company with an idle Pretender to
|
|
Astrology, contriving Schemes to discover what was never hidden, and
|
|
forgetful how carelessly Business is managed at Home in their
|
|
Absence: To leave their Wives and a warm Bed at Midnight (no matter
|
|
if it rain, hail, snow or blow a Hurricane, provided that be the
|
|
critical Hour) and fatigue themselves with the Violent Exercise of
|
|
Digging for what they shall never find, and perhaps getting a Cold
|
|
that may cost their Lives, or at least disordering themselves so as
|
|
to be fit for no Business beside for some Days after. Surely this is
|
|
nothing less than the most egregious Folly and Madness.
|
|
|
|
I shall conclude with the Words of my discreet Friend
|
|
_Agricola_, of _Chester_-County, when he gave his Son a Good
|
|
Plantation, _My Son,_ says he, _I give thee now a Valuable Parcel of
|
|
Land; I assure thee I have found a considerable Quantity of Gold by
|
|
Digging there; -- Thee mayst do the same. -- But thee must carefully
|
|
observe this, Never to dig more than Plow-deep_.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Monday Night, March_ 24.
|
|
I have received Letters lately from several considerable Men,
|
|
earnestly urging me to write on the Subject of _Paper-Money_; and
|
|
containing very severe Reflections on some Gentlemen, who are said to
|
|
be Opposers of that Currency. I must desire to be excus'd if I
|
|
decline publishing any Thing lent to me at this Juncture, that may
|
|
add Fuel to the Flame, or aggravate that Management that has already
|
|
sufficiently exasperated the Minds of the People. The Subject of
|
|
_Paper Currency_ is in it self very intricate, and I believe,
|
|
understood by Few; I mean as to its Consequences _in Futurum_: And
|
|
tho' much might be said on that Head, I apprehend it to be the less
|
|
necessary for me to handle it at this Time, because _EXPERIENCE_,
|
|
(more prevalent than all the _Logic_ in the World) has fully
|
|
convinced us all, that it has been, and is now of the greatest
|
|
Advantage to the Country: Not only those who were once doubtful are
|
|
intirely of this Opinion, but the very Gentlemen who were at first
|
|
most violent Enemies to that _Currency_, have lately, (particularly
|
|
about the Time of the last Election) declared, freely, both in
|
|
private Conversation, and publickly in Print, _That they now are
|
|
heartily for it; that they are sensible it has been a great Benefit
|
|
to the Country; and that it has not now one Opponent that they know
|
|
of._ They have likewise assured us, _That the Governour is a zealous
|
|
Friend to it_; and I do not understand that any material Reason is
|
|
given for the Additional Bill's not passing, but this. _That it is
|
|
contrary to the Constituents Orders from Home_. If this be the Case,
|
|
I see nothing further in it but this; that those Gentlemen who in
|
|
their Zeal for the Good of their Country, formerly oppos'd
|
|
_Paper-Money_, when they thought it would prove hurtful, and by their
|
|
powerful Representations procured those Orders from Home, but now
|
|
being better acquainted with its Usefulness, and sensible how much it
|
|
is to our Advantage to have such a Currency, are become hearty
|
|
Friends to it; I say, nothing remains, but that those Gentlemen join
|
|
as heartily with the Representative Body of the Country to endeavour,
|
|
by different Representations, a Revocation of those Orders: And in
|
|
the mean Time, as it is certain They would be pleased at Home to see
|
|
this Province in Prosperity, so without Doubt there is no Man so
|
|
unreasonable among them, supposing that Act should now pass, as to
|
|
imagine, that the whole Country united is entirely ignorant of its
|
|
own true Interest. And the Interest of the Country is the same, I
|
|
presume, with that of the Proprietary.
|
|
|
|
'Tis true indeed, I am not satisfied that it is for our
|
|
Advantage to rest contented with _Paper-Money_ for ever, without
|
|
endeavouring to recover our Silver and Gold; which may be done
|
|
without much Difficulty, (as I shall shew in some future Papers) if
|
|
those who have the Management of Publick Affairs should have no
|
|
Interests to pursue separate from those of their Country. Yet at
|
|
this Time it seems absolutely necessary to have a large Additional
|
|
Sum struck for the Relief of the People in their present miserable
|
|
Circumstances, and until such Methods of Trade are thought on, and
|
|
put in Practice, as will make that Currency needless; which I hope
|
|
the Legislature will as soon as possible take into their
|
|
Consideration. And in the mean Time I cannot but think it
|
|
commendable in every honest _Thinking_ Man, to publish his Sentiments
|
|
on this Head, to the End such Methods may be chose and fallen upon as
|
|
will appear most conducive.
|
|
|
|
Unhappy is the Case of that good Gentleman, our Governor, who
|
|
sees a flourishing Province sinking under his Administration into the
|
|
most wretched and deplorable Circumstances; and while no Good-will is
|
|
wanting in him to wards us and our Welfare, finds his Hands are tyed,
|
|
and that without deviating from his Instructions, it is not in his
|
|
Power to help us. The whole Country is at this Instant filled with
|
|
the greatest Heat and Animosity; and if there are yet among us any
|
|
Opposers of a _Paper-Currency_, it is probable the Resentments of the
|
|
People point at them; and tho' I must earnestly exhort my Countrymen
|
|
to Peace and Quietness, for that publick Disturbances are seldom
|
|
known to be attended with any good Consequence; yet I cannot but
|
|
think it would be highly prudent in those Gentlemen with all
|
|
Expedition to publish such Vindications of themselves and their
|
|
Actions, as will sufficiently clear them in the Eyes of all
|
|
reasonable Men, from the Imputation of having a Design to engross the
|
|
Property of the Country, and make themselves and their Posterity
|
|
Lords, and the Bulk of the Inhabitants their Tenants and Vassals;
|
|
which Design they are everywhere openly accused of. And such a
|
|
Vindication is the more necessary at this Time, because if the People
|
|
are once convinced there is no such Scheme on Foot, (and Truth
|
|
without Doubt will prevail) it may exceedingly tend to the Settlement
|
|
of their Minds, the Abatement of their Heats, and the Establishment
|
|
of Peace, Love, and Unity, and all the Social Virtues.
|
|
|
|
_The American Weekly Mercury_, March 27, 1729
|
|
|
|
|
|
_A Modest Enquiry into the Nature and Necessity of a
|
|
Paper-Currency_
|
|
|
|
------ _Quid asper
|
|
Utile Nummus habet; patriae, charisq; propinquis
|
|
Quantum elargiri deceat._ ------
|
|
Pers.
|
|
|
|
There is no Science, the Study of which is more useful and
|
|
commendable than the Knowledge of the true Interest of one's Country;
|
|
and perhaps there is no Kind of Learning more abstruse and intricate,
|
|
more difficult to acquire in any Degree of Perfection than This, and
|
|
therefore none more generally neglected. Hence it is, that we every
|
|
Day find Men in Conversation contending warmly on some Point in
|
|
Politicks, which, altho' it may nearly concern them both, neither of
|
|
them understand any more than they do each other.
|
|
|
|
Thus much by way of Apology for this present _Enquiry into the
|
|
Nature and Necessity of a Paper Currency_. And if any Thing I shall
|
|
say, may be a Means of fixing a Subject that is now the chief Concern
|
|
of my Countrymen, in a clearer Light, I shall have the Satisfaction
|
|
of thinking my Time and Pains well employed.
|
|
|
|
To proceed, then,
|
|
|
|
_There is a certain proportionate Quantity of Money requisite
|
|
to carry on the Trade of a Country freely and currently; More than
|
|
which would be of no Advantage in Trade, and Less, if much less,
|
|
exceedingly detrimental to it._
|
|
|
|
This leads us to the following general Considerations.
|
|
|
|
First, _A great Want of Money in any Trading Country, occasions
|
|
Interest to be at a very high Rate_. And here it may be observed,
|
|
that it is impossible by any Laws to restrain Men from giving and
|
|
receiving exorbitant Interest, where Money is suitably scarce: For he
|
|
that wants Money will find out Ways to give 10 _per Cent_. when he
|
|
cannot have it for less, altho' the Law forbids to take more than 6
|
|
_per Cent._ Now the Interest of Money being high is prejudicial to a
|
|
Country several Ways: It makes Land bear a low Price, because few Men
|
|
will lay out their Money in Land, when they can make a much greater
|
|
Profit by lending it out upon Interest: And much less will Men be
|
|
inclined to venture their Money at Sea, when they can, without Risque
|
|
or Hazard, have a great and certain Profit by keeping it at home;
|
|
thus Trade is discouraged. And if in two Neigbouring Countries the
|
|
Traders of one, by Reason of a greater Plenty of Money, can borrow it
|
|
to trade with at a lower Rate than the Traders of the other, they
|
|
will infallibly have the Advantage, and get the greatest Part of that
|
|
Trade into their own Hands; For he that trades with Money he hath
|
|
borrowed at 8 or 10 _per Cent._ cannot hold Market with him that
|
|
borrows his Money at 6 or 4. -- On the contrary, _A plentiful
|
|
Currency will occasion Interest to be low:_ And this will be an
|
|
Inducement to many to lay out their Money in Lands, rather than put
|
|
it out to Use, by which means Land will begin to rise in Value and
|
|
bear a better Price: And at the same Time it will tend to enliven
|
|
Trade exceedingly, because People will find more Profit in employing
|
|
their Money that Way than in Usury; and many that understand Business
|
|
very well, but have not a Stock sufficient of their own, will be
|
|
encouraged to borrow Money to trade with, when they can have it at
|
|
moderate Interest.
|
|
|
|
Secondly, _Want of Money in a Country reduces the Price of that
|
|
Part of its Produce which is used in Trade:_ Because Trade being
|
|
discouraged by it as above, there is a much less Demand for that
|
|
Produce. And this is another Reason why Land in such a Case will be
|
|
low, especially where the Staple Commodity of the Country is the
|
|
immediate Produce of the Land, because that Produce being low, fewer
|
|
People find an Advantage in Husbandry, or the Improvement of Land. --
|
|
On the contrary, _A Plentiful Currency will occasion the Trading
|
|
Produce to bear a good Price:_ Because Trade being encouraged and
|
|
advanced by it, there will be a much greater Demand for that Produce;
|
|
which will be a great Encouragement of Husbandry and Tillage, and
|
|
consequently make Land more valuable, for that many People would
|
|
apply themselves to Husbandry, who probably might otherwise have
|
|
sought some more profitable Employment.
|
|
|
|
As we have already experienced how much the Increase of our
|
|
Currency by what Paper Money has been made, has encouraged our Trade;
|
|
particularly to instance only in one Article, _Ship-Building_; it may
|
|
not be amiss to observe under this Head, what a great Advantage it
|
|
must be to us as a Trading Country, that has Workmen and all the
|
|
Materials proper for that Business within itself, to have
|
|
_Ship-Building_ as much as possible advanced: For every Ship that is
|
|
built here for the _English_ Merchants, gains the Province her clear
|
|
Value in Gold and Silver, which must otherwise have been sent Home
|
|
for Returns in her Stead; and likewise, every Ship built in and
|
|
belonging to the Province, not only saves the Province her first
|
|
Cost, but all the Freight, Wages and Provisions she ever makes or
|
|
requires as long as she lasts; provided Care is taken to make This
|
|
her _Pay Port_, and that she always takes Provisions with her for the
|
|
whole Voyage, which may easily be done. And how considerable an
|
|
Article this is yearly in our Favour, every one, the least acquainted
|
|
with mercantile Affairs, must needs be sensible; for if we could not
|
|
Build our selves, we must either purchase so many Vessels as we want
|
|
from other Countries, or else Hire them to carry our Produce to
|
|
Market, which would be more expensive than Purchasing, and on many
|
|
other Accounts exceedingly to our Loss. Now as Trade in general will
|
|
decline where there is not a plentiful Currency, so _Ship-Building_
|
|
must certainly of Consequence decline where Trade is declining.
|
|
|
|
Thirdly, _Want of Money in a Country discourages Labouring and
|
|
Handicrafts Men (which are the chief Strength and Support of a
|
|
People) from coming to settle in it, and induces many that were
|
|
settled to leave the Country, and seek Entertainment and Employment
|
|
in other Places, where they can be better paid_. For what can be
|
|
more disheartning to an industrious labouring Man, than this, that
|
|
after he hath earned his Bread with the Sweat of his Brows, he must
|
|
spend as much Time, and have near as much Fatigue in getting it, as
|
|
he had to earn it. _And nothing makes more bad Paymasters than a
|
|
general Scarcity of Money_. And here again is a Third Reason for
|
|
Land's bearing a low Price in such a Country, because Land always
|
|
increases in Value in Proportion with the Increase of the People
|
|
settling on it, there being so many more Buyers; and its Value will
|
|
infallibly be diminished, if the Number of its Inhabitants diminish.
|
|
-- On the contrary, _A Plentiful Currency will encourage great
|
|
Numbers of Labouring and Handicrafts Men to come and Settle in the
|
|
Country_, by the same Reason that a Want of it will discourage and
|
|
drive them out. Now the more Inhabitants, the greater Demand for
|
|
Land (as is said above) upon which it must necessarily rise in Value,
|
|
and bear a better Price. The same may be said of the Value of
|
|
House-Rent, which will be advanced for the same Reasons; and by the
|
|
Increase of Trade and Riches People will be enabled to pay greater
|
|
Rents. Now the Value of House-Rent rising, and Interest becoming
|
|
low, many that in a Scarcity of Money practised Usury, will probably
|
|
be more inclined to Building; which will likewise sensibly enliven
|
|
Business in any Place; it being an Advantage not only to
|
|
_Brickmakers_, _Bricklayers_, _Masons_, _Carpenters_, _Joiners_,
|
|
_Glaziers_, and several other Trades immediately employ'd by
|
|
Building, but likewise to _Farmers_, _Brewers_, _Bakers_, _Taylors_,
|
|
_Shoemakers_, _Shop-keepers_, and in short to every one that they lay
|
|
their Money out with.
|
|
|
|
Fourthly, _Want of Money in such a Country as ours, occasions a
|
|
greater Consumption of_ English _and_ European _Goods, in Proportion
|
|
to the Number of the People, than there would otherwise be._ Because
|
|
Merchants and Traders, by whom abundance of Artificers and labouring
|
|
Men are employed, finding their other Affairs require what Money they
|
|
can get into their hands, oblige those who work for them to take one
|
|
half, or perhaps two thirds Goods in Pay. By this Means a greater
|
|
Quantity of Goods are disposed of, and to a greater Value; because
|
|
Working Men and their Families are thereby induced to be more profuse
|
|
and extravagant in fine Apparel and the like, than they would be if
|
|
they were obliged to pay ready Money for such Things after they had
|
|
earn'd and received it, or if such Goods were not imposed upon them,
|
|
of which they can make no other Use: For such People cannot send the
|
|
Goods they are paid with to a Foreign Market, without losing
|
|
considerably by having them sold for less than they stand 'em in
|
|
here; neither can they easily dispose of them at Home, because their
|
|
Neighbours are generally supplied in the same Manner; But how
|
|
unreasonable would it be, if some of those very Men who _have been a
|
|
Means_ of thus forcing People into unnecessary Expence, should be the
|
|
first and most earnest in accusing them of _Pride and Prodigality._
|
|
Now tho' this extraordinary Consumption of Foreign Commodities may be
|
|
a Profit to particular Men, yet the Country in general grows poorer
|
|
by it apace. -- On the contrary, As _A plentiful Currency will
|
|
occasion a less Consumption of_ European _Goods, in Proportion to the
|
|
Number of the People,_ so it will be a means of making the Balance of
|
|
our Trade more equal than it now is, if it does not give it in our
|
|
Favour; because our own Produce will be encouraged at the same Time.
|
|
And it is to be observed, that tho' less Foreign Commodities are
|
|
consumed in Proportion to the Number of People, yet this will be no
|
|
Disadvantage to the Merchant, because the Number of People
|
|
increasing, will occasion an increasing Demand of more Foreign Goods
|
|
in the Whole.
|
|
|
|
Thus we have seen some of the many heavy Disadvantages a
|
|
Country (especially such a Country as ours) must labour under, when
|
|
it has not a sufficient Stock of running Cash to manage its Trade
|
|
currently. And we have likewise seen some of the Advantages which
|
|
accrue from having Money sufficient, or a Plentiful Currency.
|
|
|
|
The foregoing Paragraphs being well considered, we shall
|
|
naturally be led to draw the following Conclusions with Regard to
|
|
what Persons will probably be for or against Emitting a large
|
|
Additional Sum of Paper Bills in this Province.
|
|
|
|
1. Since Men will always be powerfully influenced in their
|
|
Opinions and Actions by what appears to be their particular Interest:
|
|
Therefore all those, who wanting Courage to venture in Trade, now
|
|
practise Lending Money on Security for exorbitant Interest, which in
|
|
a Scarcity of Money will be done notwithstanding the Law, I say all
|
|
such will probably be against a large Addition to our present Stock
|
|
of Paper-Money; because a plentiful Currency will lower Interest, and
|
|
make it common to lend on less Security.
|
|
|
|
2. All those who are Possessors of large Sums of Money, and are
|
|
disposed to purchase Land, which is attended with a great and sure
|
|
Advantage in a growing Country as this is; I say, the Interest of all
|
|
such Men will encline them to oppose a large Addition to our Money.
|
|
Because their Wealth is now continually increasing by the large
|
|
Interest they receive, which will enable them (if they can keep Land
|
|
from rising) to purchase More some time hence than they can at
|
|
present; and in the mean time all Trade being discouraged, not only
|
|
those who borrow of them, but the Common People in general will be
|
|
impoverished, and consequently obliged to sell More Land for less
|
|
Money than they will do at present. And yet, after such Men are
|
|
possessed of as much Land as they can purchase, it will then be their
|
|
Interest to have Money made Plentiful, because that will immediately
|
|
make Land rise in Value in _their_ Hands. Now it ought not to be
|
|
wonder'd at, if People from the Knowledge of a Man's Interest do
|
|
sometimes make a true Guess at his Designs; for, _Interest_, they
|
|
say, _will not Lie._
|
|
|
|
3. Lawyers, and others concerned in Court Business, will
|
|
probably many of them be against a plentiful Currency; because People
|
|
in that Case will have less Occasion to run in Debt, and consequently
|
|
less Occasion to go to Law and Sue one another for their Debts. Tho'
|
|
I know some even among these Gentlemen, that regard the Publick Good
|
|
before their own apparent private Interest.
|
|
|
|
4. All those who are any way Dependants on such Persons as are
|
|
above mentioned, whether as holding Offices, as Tenants, or as
|
|
Debtors, must at least _appear_ to be against a large Addition;
|
|
because if they do not, they must sensibly feel their present
|
|
Interest hurt. And besides these, there are, doubtless, many
|
|
well-meaning Gentlemen and Others, who, without any immediate private
|
|
Interest of their own in View, are against making such an Addition,
|
|
thro' an Opinion they may have of the Honesty and sound Judgment of
|
|
some of their Friends that oppose it, (perhaps for the Ends
|
|
aforesaid) without having given it any thorough Consideration
|
|
themselves. And thus it is no Wonder if there is a _powerful_ Party
|
|
on that Side.
|
|
|
|
On the other Hand, Those who are Lovers of Trade, and delight
|
|
to see Manufactures encouraged, will be for having a large Addition
|
|
to our Currency: For they very well know, that People will have
|
|
little Heart to advance Money in Trade, when what they can get is
|
|
scarce sufficient to purchase Necessaries, and supply their Families
|
|
with Provision. Much less will they lay it out in advancing new
|
|
Manufactures; nor is it possible new Manufactures should turn to any
|
|
Account, where there is not Money to pay the Workmen, who are
|
|
discouraged by being paid in Goods, because it is a great
|
|
Disadvantage to them.
|
|
|
|
Again, Those who are truly for the Proprietor's Interest (and
|
|
have no separate Views of their own that are predominant) will be
|
|
heartily for a large Addition: Because, as I have shewn above, Plenty
|
|
of Money will for several Reasons make Land rise in Value
|
|
exceedingly: And I appeal to those immediately concerned for the
|
|
Proprietor in the Sale of his Lands, whether Land has not risen very
|
|
much since the first Emission of what Paper Currency we now have, and
|
|
even by its Means. Now we all know the Proprietary has great
|
|
Quantities to sell.
|
|
|
|
And since a Plentiful Currency will be so great a Cause of
|
|
advancing this Province in Trade and Riches, and increasing the
|
|
Number of its People; which, tho' it will not sensibly lessen the
|
|
Inhabitants of _Great Britain_, will occasion a much greater Vent and
|
|
Demand for their Commodities here; and allowing that the Crown is the
|
|
more powerful for its Subjects increasing in Wealth and Number, I
|
|
cannot think it the Interest of _England_ to oppose us in making as
|
|
great a Sum of Paper Money here, as we, who are the best Judges of
|
|
our own Necessities, find convenient. And if I were not sensible
|
|
that the Gentlemen of Trade in _England_, to whom we have already
|
|
parted with our Silver and Gold, are misinformed of our
|
|
Circumstances, and therefore endeavour to have our Currency stinted
|
|
to what it now is, I should think the Government at Home had some
|
|
Reasons for discouraging and impoverishing this Province, which we
|
|
are not acquainted with.
|
|
|
|
It remains now that we enquire, _Whether a large Addition to
|
|
our Paper Currency will not make it sink in Value very much;_ And
|
|
here it will be requisite that we first form just Notions of the
|
|
Nature and Value of Money in general.
|
|
|
|
As Providence has so ordered it, that not only different
|
|
Countries, but even different Parts of the same Country, have their
|
|
peculiar most suitable Productions; and likewise that different Men
|
|
have Genius's adapted to Variety of different Arts and Manufactures,
|
|
Therefore _Commerce_, or the Exchange of one Commodity or Manufacture
|
|
for another, is highly convenient and beneficial to Mankind. As for
|
|
Instance, _A_ may be skilful in the Art of making Cloth, and _B_
|
|
understand the raising of Corn; _A_ wants Corn, and _B_ Cloth; upon
|
|
which they make an Exchange with each other for as much as each has
|
|
Occasion, to the mutual Advantage and Satisfaction of both.
|
|
|
|
But as it would be very tedious, if there were no other Way of
|
|
general Dealing, but by an immediate Exchange of Commodities; because
|
|
a Man that had Corn to dispose of, and wanted Cloth for it, might
|
|
perhaps in his Search for a Chapman to deal with, meet with twenty
|
|
People that had Cloth to dispose of, but wanted no Corn; and with
|
|
twenty others that wanted his Corn, but had no Cloth to suit him
|
|
with. To remedy such Inconveniences, and facilitate Exchange, Men
|
|
have invented MONEY, properly called a _Medium of Exchange_, because
|
|
through or by its Means Labour is exchanged for Labour, or one
|
|
Commodity for another. And whatever particular Thing Men have agreed
|
|
to make this Medium of, whether Gold, Silver, Copper, or Tobacco; it
|
|
is, to those who possess it (if they want any Thing) that very Thing
|
|
which they want, because it will immediately procure it for them. It
|
|
is Cloth to him that wants Cloth, and Corn to those that want Corn;
|
|
and so of all other Necessaries, it _is_ whatsoever it will procure.
|
|
Thus he who had Corn to dispose of, and wanted to purchase Cloth with
|
|
it, might sell his Corn for its Value in this general Medium, to one
|
|
who wanted Corn but had no Cloth; and with this Medium he might
|
|
purchase Cloth of him that wanted no Corn, but perhaps some other
|
|
Thing, as Iron it may be, which this Medium will immediately procure,
|
|
and so he may be said to have exchanged his Cloth for Iron; and thus
|
|
the general Exchange is soon performed, to the Satisfaction of all
|
|
Parties, with abundance of Facility.
|
|
|
|
For many Ages, those Parts of the World which are engaged in
|
|
Commerce, have fixed upon Gold and Silver as the chief and most
|
|
proper Materials for this Medium; they being in themselves valuable
|
|
Metals for their Fineness, Beauty, and Scarcity. By these,
|
|
particularly by Silver, it has been usual to value all Things else:
|
|
But as Silver it self is of no certain permanent Value, being worth
|
|
more or less according to its Scarcity or Plenty, therefore it seems
|
|
requisite to fix upon Something else, more proper to be made a
|
|
_Measure of Values_, and this I take to be _Labour._
|
|
|
|
By Labour may the Value of Silver be measured as well as other
|
|
Things. As, Suppose one Man employed to raise Corn, while another is
|
|
digging and refining Silver; at the Year's End, or at any other
|
|
Period of Time, the compleat Produce of Corn, and that of Silver, are
|
|
the natural Price of each other; and if one be twenty Bushels, and
|
|
the other twenty Ounces, then an Ounce of that Silver is worth the
|
|
Labour of raising a Bushel of that Corn. Now if by the Discovery of
|
|
some nearer, more easy or plentiful Mines, a Man may get Forty Ounces
|
|
of Silver as easily as formerly he did Twenty, and the same Labour is
|
|
still required to raise Twenty Bushels of Corn, then Two Ounces of
|
|
Silver will be worth no more than the same Labour of raising One
|
|
Bushel of Corn, and that Bushel of Corn will be as cheap at two
|
|
Ounces, as it was before at one; _caeteris paribus._
|
|
|
|
Thus the Riches of a Country are to be valued by the Quantity
|
|
of Labour its Inhabitants are able to purchase, and not by the
|
|
Quantity of Silver and Gold they possess; which will purchase more or
|
|
less Labour, and therefore is more or less valuable, as is said
|
|
before, according to its Scarcity or Plenty. As those Metals have
|
|
grown much more plentiful in _Europe_ since the Discovery of
|
|
_America_, so they have sunk in Value exceedingly; for, to instance
|
|
in _England_, formerly one Penny of Silver was worth a Days Labour,
|
|
but now it is hardly worth the sixth Part of a Days Labour; because
|
|
not less than Six-pence will purchase the Labour of a Man for a Day
|
|
in any Part of that Kingdom; which is wholly to be attributed to the
|
|
much greater Plenty of Money now in _England_ than formerly. And yet
|
|
perhaps _England_ is in Effect no richer now than at that Time;
|
|
because as much Labour might be purchas'd, or Work got done of almost
|
|
any kind, for 100 _l_. then, as will now require or is now worth 600
|
|
_l_.
|
|
|
|
In the next Place let us consider the Nature of _Banks_
|
|
emitting _Bills of Credit_, as they are at this Time used in
|
|
_Hamburgh_, _Amsterdam_, _London_ and _Venice_.
|
|
|
|
Those Places being Seats of vast Trade, and the Payment of
|
|
great Sums being for that Reason frequent, _Bills of Credit_ are
|
|
found very convenient in Business; because a great Sum is more easily
|
|
counted in Them, lighter in Carriage, concealed in less Room, and
|
|
therefore safer in Travelling or Laying up, and on many other
|
|
Accounts they are very much valued. The Banks are the general
|
|
Cashiers of all Gentlemen, Merchants and great Traders in and about
|
|
those Cities; there they deposite their Money, and may take out Bills
|
|
to the Value, for which they can be certain to have Money again at
|
|
the Bank at any Time: This gives the Bills a Credit; so that in
|
|
_England_ they are never less valuable than Money, and in _Venice_
|
|
and _Amsterdam_ they are generally worth more. And the Bankers
|
|
always reserving Money in hand to answer more than the common Run of
|
|
Demands (and some People constantly putting in while others are
|
|
taking out) are able besides to lend large Sums, on good Security, to
|
|
the Government or others, for a reasonable Interest, by which they
|
|
are paid for their Care and Trouble; and the Money which otherwise
|
|
would have lain dead in their Hands, is made to circulate again
|
|
thereby among the People: And thus the Running Cash of the Nation is
|
|
as it were doubled; for all great Payments being made in Bills, Money
|
|
in lower Trade becomes much more plentiful: And this is an exceeding
|
|
great Advantage to a Trading Country, that is not over-stock'd with
|
|
Gold and Silver.
|
|
|
|
As those who take Bills out of the Banks in _Europe_, put in
|
|
Money for Security; so here, and in some of the neighbouring
|
|
Provinces, we engage our Land. Which of these Methods will most
|
|
effectually secure the Bills from actually sinking in Value, comes
|
|
next to be considered.
|
|
|
|
Trade in general being nothing else but the Exchange of Labour
|
|
for Labour, the Value of all Things is, as I have said before, most
|
|
justly measured by Labour. Now suppose I put my Money into a Bank,
|
|
and take out a Bill for the Value; if this Bill at the Time of my
|
|
receiving it, would purchase me the Labour of one hundred Men for
|
|
twenty Days; but some time after will only purchase the Labour of the
|
|
same Number of Men for fifteen Days; it is plain the Bill has sunk in
|
|
Value one fourth Part. Now Silver and Gold being of no permanent
|
|
Value; and as this Bill is founded on Money, and therefore to be
|
|
esteemed as such, it may be that the Occasion of this Fall is the
|
|
increasing Plenty of Gold and Silver, by which Money is one fourth
|
|
Part less valuable than before, and therefore one fourth more is
|
|
given of it for the same Quantity of Labour; and if Land is not
|
|
become more plentiful by some proportionate Decrease of the People,
|
|
one fourth Part more of Money is given for the same Quantity of Land;
|
|
whereby it appears that it would have been more profitable to me to
|
|
have laid that Money out in Land which I put into the Bank, than to
|
|
place it there and take a Bill for it. And it is certain that the
|
|
Value of Money has been continually sinking in _England_ for several
|
|
Ages past, because it has been continually increasing in Quantity.
|
|
But if Bills could be taken out of a Bank in _Europe_ on a Land
|
|
Security, it is probable the Value of such Bills would be more
|
|
certain and steady, because the Number of Inhabitants continue to be
|
|
near the same in those Countries from Age to Age.
|
|
|
|
For as Bills issued upon Money Security are Money, so Bills
|
|
issued upon Land, are in Effect _Coined Land._
|
|
|
|
Therefore (to apply the Above to our own Circumstances) If Land
|
|
in this Province was falling, or any way likely to fall, it would
|
|
behove the Legislature most carefully to contrive how to prevent the
|
|
Bills issued upon Land from falling with it. But as our People
|
|
increase exceedingly, and will be further increased, as I have before
|
|
shewn, by the Help of a large Addition to our Currency; and as Land
|
|
in consequence is continually rising, So, in case no Bills are
|
|
emitted but what are upon Land Security, the Money-Acts in every Part
|
|
punctually enforced and executed, the Payments of Principal and
|
|
Interest being duly and strictly required, and the Principal _bona
|
|
fide_ sunk according to Law, it is absolutely impossible such Bills
|
|
should ever sink below their first Value, or below the Value of the
|
|
Land on which they are founded. In short, there is so little Danger
|
|
of their sinking, that they would certainly rise as the Land rises,
|
|
if they were not emitted in a proper Manner for preventing it; That
|
|
is, by providing in the Act _That Payment may be made, either in
|
|
those Bills, or in any other Bills made current by any Act of the
|
|
Legislature of this Province;_ and that the Interest, as it is
|
|
received, may be again emitted in Discharge of Publick Debts; whereby
|
|
circulating it returns again into the Hands of the Borrowers, and
|
|
becomes Part of their future Payments; and thus as it is likely there
|
|
will not be any Difficulty for want of Bills to pay the Office, they
|
|
are hereby kept from rising above their first Value: For else,
|
|
supposing there should be emitted upon mortgaged Land its full
|
|
present Value in Bills; as in the Banks in _Europe_ the full Value of
|
|
the Money deposited is given out in Bills; and supposing the Office
|
|
would take nothing but the same Sum in those Bills in Discharge of
|
|
the Land; as in the Banks aforesaid, the same Sum in their Bills must
|
|
be brought in, in order to receive out the Money: In such Case the
|
|
Bills would most surely rise in Value as the Land rises; as certainly
|
|
as the Bank Bills founded on Money would fall if that Money was
|
|
falling. Thus if I were to mortgage to a Loan-Office, or Bank, a
|
|
Parcel of Land now valued at 100 _l_. in Silver, and receive for it
|
|
the like Sum in Bills, to be paid in again at the Expiration of a
|
|
certain Term of Years; before which, my Land rising in Value, becomes
|
|
worth 150 _l_. in Silver: 'Tis plain, that if I have not these Bills
|
|
in Possession, and the Office will take nothing but these Bills, or
|
|
else what it is now become worth in Silver, in Discharge of my Land;
|
|
I say it appears plain, that those Bills will now be worth 150 _l_.
|
|
in Silver to the Possessor; and if I can purchase them for less, in
|
|
order to redeem my Land, I shall by so much be a Gainer.
|
|
|
|
I need not say any Thing to convince the Judicious that our
|
|
Bills have not yet sunk, tho' there is and has been some Difference
|
|
between them and Silver; because it is evident that that Difference
|
|
is occasioned by the Scarcity of the latter, which is now become a
|
|
Merchandize, rising and falling, like other Commodities, as there is
|
|
a greater or less Demand for it, or as it is more or less Plenty.
|
|
|
|
Yet farther, in order to make a true Estimate of the Value of
|
|
Money, we must distinguish between Money as it is Bullion, which is
|
|
Merchandize, and as by being coin'd it is made a Currency: For its
|
|
Value as a Merchandize, and its Value as a Currency, are two distinct
|
|
Things; and each may possibly rise and fall in some Degree
|
|
independent of the other. Thus if the Quantity of Bullion increases
|
|
in a Country, it will proportionably decrease in Value; but if at the
|
|
same Time the Quantity of current Coin should decrease, (supposing
|
|
Payments may not be made in Bullion) what Coin there is will rise in
|
|
Value as a Currency, _i. e._ People will give more Labour in
|
|
Manufactures for a certain Sum of ready Money.
|
|
|
|
In the same Manner must we consider a _Paper Currency_ founded
|
|
on Land; as it is Land, and as it is a Currency.
|
|
|
|
_Money as Bullion, or as Land, is valuable by so much Labour as
|
|
it costs to procure that Bullion or Land._
|
|
|
|
_Money, as a Currency, has an Additional Value by so much Time
|
|
and Labour as it saves in the Exchange of Commodities._
|
|
|
|
|
|
If, as a Currency, it saves one Fourth Part of the Time and
|
|
Labour of a Country; it has, on that Account, one Fourth added to its
|
|
original Value.
|
|
|
|
When there is no Money in a Country, all Commerce must be by
|
|
Exchange. Now if it takes one fourth Part of the Time and Labour of
|
|
a Country, to exchange or get their Commodities exchanged; then, in
|
|
computing their Value, that Labour of Exchanging must be added to the
|
|
Labour of manufacturing those Commodities: But if that Time or Labour
|
|
is saved by introducing Money sufficient, then the additional Value
|
|
on Account of the Labour of Exchanging may be abated, and Things sold
|
|
for only the Value of the Labour in making them; because the People
|
|
may now in the same Time make one Fourth more in Quantity of
|
|
Manufactures than they could before.
|
|
|
|
From these Considerations it may be gathered, that in all the
|
|
Degrees between having no Money in a Country, and Money sufficient
|
|
for the Trade, it will rise and fall in Value as a Currency, in
|
|
Proportion to the Decrease or Increase of its Quantity: And if there
|
|
may be at some Time more than enough, the Overplus will have no
|
|
Effect towards making the Currency, as a Currency, of less Value than
|
|
when there was but enough; because such Overplus will not be used in
|
|
Trade, but be some other way disposed of.
|
|
|
|
If we enquire, _How much_ per Cent. _Interest ought to be
|
|
required upon the Loan of these Bills;_ we must consider what is the
|
|
Natural Standard of Usury: And this appears to be, where the Security
|
|
is undoubted, at least the Rent of so much Land as the Money lent
|
|
will buy: For it cannot be expected that any Man will lend his Money
|
|
for less than it would fetch him in as Rent if he laid it out in
|
|
Land, which is the most secure Property in the World. But if the
|
|
Security is casual, then a kind of Ensurance must be enterwoven with
|
|
the simple natural Interest, which may advance the Usury very
|
|
conscionably to any height below the Principal it self. Now among
|
|
us, if the Value of Land is twenty Years Purchase, Five _per Cent._
|
|
is the just Rate of Interest for Money lent on undoubted Security.
|
|
Yet if Money grows scarce in a Country, it becomes more difficult for
|
|
People to make punctual Payments of what they borrow, Money being
|
|
hard to be raised; likewise Trade being discouraged, and Business
|
|
impeded for want of a Currency, abundance of People must be in
|
|
declining Circumstances, and by these Means Security is more
|
|
precarious than where Money is plenty. On such Accounts it is no
|
|
wonder if People ask a greater Interest for their Money than the
|
|
natural Interest; and what is above is to be look'd upon as a kind of
|
|
_Praemium_ for the Ensurance of those Uncertainties, as they are
|
|
greater or less. Thus we always see, that where Money is scarce,
|
|
Interest is high, and low where it is plenty. Now it is certainly
|
|
the Advantage of a Country to make Interest as low as possible, as I
|
|
have already shewn; and this can be done no other way than by making
|
|
Money plentiful. And since, in Emitting Paper Money among us, the
|
|
Office has the best of Security, the Titles to the Land being all
|
|
skilfully and strictly examined and ascertained; and as it is only
|
|
permitting the People by Law to coin their own Land, which costs the
|
|
Government nothing, the Interest being more than enough to pay the
|
|
Charges of Printing, Officers Fees, _&c._ I cannot see any good
|
|
Reason why Four _per Cent._ to the Loan-Office should not be thought
|
|
fully sufficient. As a low Interest may incline more to take Money
|
|
out, it will become more plentiful in Trade; and this may bring down
|
|
the common Usury, in which Security is more dubious, to the Pitch it
|
|
is determined at by Law.
|
|
|
|
If it should be objected, _That Emitting It at so low an
|
|
Interest, and on such easy Terms, will occasion more to be taken out
|
|
than the Trade of the Country really requires:_ It may be answered,
|
|
That, as has already been shewn, there can never be so much of it
|
|
emitted as to make it fall below the Land it is founded on; because
|
|
no Man in his Senses will mortgage his Estate for what is of no more
|
|
Value to him than That he has mortgaged, especially if the Possession
|
|
of what he receives is more precarious than of what he mortgages, as
|
|
that of Paper Money is when compared to Land: And if it should ever
|
|
become so plenty by indiscreet Persons continuing to take out a large
|
|
Overplus, above what is necessary in Trade, so as to make People
|
|
imagine it would become by that Means of less Value than their
|
|
mortgaged Lands, they would immediately of Course begin to pay it in
|
|
again to the Office to redeem their Land, and continue to do so till
|
|
there was no more left in Trade than was absolutely necessary. And
|
|
thus the Proportion would find it self, (tho' there were a Million
|
|
too much in the Office to be let out) without giving any one the
|
|
Trouble of Calculation.
|
|
|
|
It may perhaps be objected to what I have written concerning
|
|
the Advantages of a large Addition to our Currency, _That if the
|
|
People of this Province increase, and Husbandry is more followed, we
|
|
shall overstock the Markets with our Produce of Flower,_ &c. To this
|
|
it may be answered, that we can never have too many People (nor too
|
|
much Money) For when one Branch of Trade or Business is overstocked
|
|
with Hands, there are the more to spare to be employed in another.
|
|
So if raising Wheat proves dull, more may (if there is Money to
|
|
support and carry on new Manufactures) proceed to the raising and
|
|
manufacturing of _Hemp_, _Silk_, _Iron_, and many other Things the
|
|
Country is very capable of, for which we only want People to work,
|
|
and Money to pay them with.
|
|
|
|
Upon the Whole it may be observed, That it is the highest
|
|
Interest of a Trading Country in general to make Money plentiful; and
|
|
that it can be a Disadvantage to none that have honest Designs. It
|
|
cannot hurt even the Usurers, tho' it should sink what they receive
|
|
as Interest; because they will be proportionably more secure in what
|
|
they lend; or they will have an Opportunity of employing their Money
|
|
to greater Advantage, to themselves as well as to the Country.
|
|
Neither can it hurt those Merchants who have great Sums out-standing
|
|
in Debts in the Country, and seem on that Account to have the most
|
|
plausible Reason to fear it; _to wit_, because a large Addition being
|
|
made to our Currency, will increase the Demand of our Exporting
|
|
Produce, and by that Means raise the Price of it, so that they will
|
|
not be able to purchase so much Bread or Flower with 100 _l._ when
|
|
they shall receive it after such an Addition, as they now can, and
|
|
may if there is no Addition: I say it cannot hurt even such, because
|
|
they will get in their Debts just in exact Proportion so much the
|
|
easier and sooner as the Money becomes plentier; and therefore,
|
|
considering the Interest and Trouble saved, they will not be Losers;
|
|
because it only sinks in Value as a Currency, proportionally as it
|
|
becomes more plenty. It cannot hurt the Interest of _Great Britain_,
|
|
as has been shewn; and it will greatly advance the Interest of the
|
|
Proprietor. It will be an Advantage to every industrious Tradesman,
|
|
_&c._ because his Business will be carried on more freely, and Trade
|
|
be universally enlivened by it. And as more Business in all
|
|
Manufactures will be done, by so much as the Labour and Time spent in
|
|
Exchange is saved, the Country in general will grow so much the
|
|
richer.
|
|
|
|
It is nothing to the Purpose to object the wretched Fall of the
|
|
Bills in _New-England_ and _South-Carolina_, unless it might be made
|
|
evident that their Currency was emitted with the same Prudence, and
|
|
on such good Security as ours is; and it certainly was not.
|
|
|
|
As this Essay is wrote and published in Haste, and the Subject
|
|
in it self intricate, I hope I shall be censured with Candour, if,
|
|
for want of Time carefully to revise what I have written, in some
|
|
Places I should appear to have express'd my self too obscurely, and
|
|
in others am liable to Objections I did not foresee. I sincerely
|
|
desire to be acquainted with the Truth, and on that Account shall
|
|
think my self obliged to any one, who will take the Pains to shew me,
|
|
or the Publick, where I am mistaken in my Conclusions, And as we all
|
|
know there are among us several Gentlemen of acute Parts and profound
|
|
Learning, who are very much against any Addition to our Money, it
|
|
were to be wished that they would favour the Country with their
|
|
Sentiments on this Head in Print; which, supported with Truth and
|
|
good Reasoning, may probably be very convincing. And this is to be
|
|
desired the rather, because many People knowing the Abilities of
|
|
those Gentlemen to manage a good Cause, are apt to construe their
|
|
Silence in This, as an Argument of a bad One. Had any Thing of that
|
|
Kind ever yet appeared, perhaps I should not have given the Publick
|
|
this Trouble: But as those ingenious Gentlemen have not yet (and I
|
|
doubt never will) think it worth their Concern to enlighten the Minds
|
|
of their erring Countrymen in this Particular, I think it would be
|
|
highly commendable in every one of us, more fully to bend our Minds
|
|
to the Study of _What is the true Interest of PENNSYLVANIA;_ whereby
|
|
we may be enabled, not only to reason pertinently with one another;
|
|
but, if Occasion requires, to transmit Home such clear
|
|
Representations, as must inevitably convince our Superiors of the
|
|
Reasonableness and Integrity of our Designs.
|
|
_B. B._
|
|
|
|
_Philadelphia, April_ 3. 1729.
|
|
|
|
Philadelphia, New Printing-Office, 1729
|
|
|
|
_The Printer to the Reader_
|
|
|
|
The _Pennsylvania Gazette_ being now to be carry'd on by other
|
|
Hands, the Reader may expect some Account of the Method we design to
|
|
proceed in.
|
|
|
|
Upon a View of _Chambers_'s great Dictionaries, from whence
|
|
were taken the Materials of the _Universal Instructor in all Arts and
|
|
Sciences_, which usually made the First Part of this Paper, we find
|
|
that besides their containing many Things abstruse or insignificant
|
|
to us, it will probably be fifty Years before the Whole can be gone
|
|
thro' in this Manner of Publication. There are likewise in those
|
|
Books continual References from Things under one Letter of the
|
|
Alphabet to those under another, which relate to the same Subject,
|
|
and are necessary to explain and compleat it; these taken in their
|
|
Turn may perhaps be Ten Years distant; and since it is likely that
|
|
they who desire to acquaint themselves with any particular Art or
|
|
Science, would gladly have the whole before them in a much less Time,
|
|
we believe our Readers will not think such a Method of communicating
|
|
Knowledge to be a proper One.
|
|
|
|
However, tho' we do not intend to continue the Publication of
|
|
those Dictionaries in a regular Alphabetical Method, as has hitherto
|
|
been done; yet as several Things exhibited from them in the Course of
|
|
these Papers, have been entertaining to such of the Curious, who
|
|
never had and cannot have the Advantage of good Libraries; and as
|
|
there are many Things still behind, which being in this Manner made
|
|
generally known, may perhaps become of considerable Use, by giving
|
|
such Hints to the excellent natural Genius's of our Country, as may
|
|
contribute either to the Improvement of our present Manufactures, or
|
|
towards the Invention of new Ones; we propose from Time to Time to
|
|
communicate such particular Parts as appear to be of the most general
|
|
Consequence.
|
|
|
|
As to the _Religious Courtship_, Part of which has been retal'd
|
|
to the Publick in these Papers, the Reader may be inform'd, that the
|
|
whole Book will probably in a little Time be printed and bound up by
|
|
it self; and those who approve of it, will doubtless be better
|
|
pleas'd to have it entire, than in this broken interrupted Manner.
|
|
|
|
There are many who have long desired to see a good News-Paper
|
|
in _Pennsylvania_; and we hope those Gentlemen who are able, will
|
|
contribute towards the making This such. We ask Assistance, because
|
|
we are fully sensible, that to publish a good News-Paper is not so
|
|
easy an Undertaking as many People imagine it to be. The Author of a
|
|
_Gazette_ (in the Opinion of the Learned) ought to be qualified with
|
|
an extensive Acquaintance with Languages, a great Easiness and
|
|
Command of Writing and Relating Things cleanly and intelligibly, and
|
|
in few Words; he should be able to speak of War both by Land and Sea;
|
|
be well acquainted with Geography, with the History of the Time, with
|
|
the several Interests of Princes and States, the Secrets of Courts,
|
|
and the Manners and Customs of all Nations. Men thus accomplish'd
|
|
are very rare in this remote Part of the World; and it would be well
|
|
if the Writer of these Papers could make up among his Friends what is
|
|
wanting in himself.
|
|
|
|
Upon the Whole, we may assure the Publick, that as far as the
|
|
Encouragement we meet with will enable us, no Care and Pains shall be
|
|
omitted, that may make the _Pennsylvania Gazette_ as agreeable and
|
|
useful an Entertainment as the Nature of the Thing will allow.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, October 2, 1729
|
|
|
|
|
|
_"One Piles a Fidler"_
|
|
|
|
And sometime last Week, we are informed, that one Piles a
|
|
Fidler, with his Wife, were overset in a Canoo near Newtown Creek.
|
|
The good Man, 'tis said, prudently secur'd his Fiddle, and let his
|
|
Wife go to the Bottom.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, October 16,1729
|
|
|
|
_Fire and the Nature of Horses_
|
|
|
|
We hear from Trenton, that on Friday the 5th Instant, a good
|
|
new Stable belonging to Mr. John Severn, was burnt down to the
|
|
Ground, in which was consumed five Load of English Hay, and seven
|
|
Horses were burnt to Death; occasioned by the Carelessness of a
|
|
Servant, who let a Candle fall among the Hay.
|
|
|
|
About the same Time a Barn and Stable was burnt near
|
|
Allen's-Town: The Owner attempting to save a good Horse he had in the
|
|
Stable, very narrowly escap'd with his own Life; 'tis observed as
|
|
something unaccountable in the Nature of Horses, that they are so far
|
|
from endeavouring to avoid the Danger of Fire, as to stand
|
|
obstinately and suffer themselves to be burnt; nor will they be led
|
|
from it unless first made blindfold.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, December 16, 1729
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Trial and Reprieve of Prouse and Mitchel_
|
|
|
|
Last Week at a Court of Oyer and Terminer held in this City,
|
|
two Servants, James Prouse and James Mitchel (the same who broke
|
|
Prison some time since, and were retaken at Amboy) were tried for
|
|
Burglary. It appeared by the King's Evidence, that _Prouse_ entred
|
|
the House of Mr. _Sheed_, Barber, in Front-street, (being admitted by
|
|
a Servant of the Family) and there broke open a Desk, from whence he
|
|
took _Seven Pounds Ten Shillings_ in Paper Money, and some Copper
|
|
Half-pence; and that _Mitchel_ in the mean time waited without to
|
|
watch. It was proved that the Money lost was found upon _Prouse_
|
|
when he was taken; who only said in his Defence at the Bar, that it
|
|
was given him by Mr. _Sheed_'s Man to keep. _Mitchel_ in his Defence
|
|
said, that tho' he had been in Company with _Prouse_ and other
|
|
Servants drinking _Rum_ out of Town in the Day Time, being Sunday,
|
|
yet that he heard nothing of any Contrivance to Rob, or the like; and
|
|
that he was in Bed when the Fact was committed, from whence _Prouse_
|
|
afterwards call'd him to go and drink, but did not acquaint with what
|
|
had been done. The Jury brought them both in Guilty; and _Prouse_
|
|
being asked what he had to say why Sentence of Death should not pass
|
|
against him, answered, that he had nothing to say in his own Behalf,
|
|
but declared that _Mitchel_ was wholly innocent, and knew nothing of
|
|
the Fact. The Court passed Sentence on them both, but directed
|
|
_Mitchel_ to apply to His Honour the Governour for Mercy.
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Sheed_'s Servant (who in the above Trial was Evidence for
|
|
the King) is hereafter to be tried for Robbery; the Law not making it
|
|
Burglary in a Servant to open a Door in the Night time, tho' it be to
|
|
admit Thieves, _&c_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, December 23, 1729
|
|
|
|
We hear to Morrow is appointed for the Execution of _Prouse_
|
|
and _Mitchel_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, January 13, 1729/30
|
|
|
|
_We think our Readers will not be displeased to have the
|
|
following remarkable Transaction related to them in this particular
|
|
Manner._
|
|
|
|
Wednesday the 14th Instant, being the Day appointed for the
|
|
Execution of _James Prouse_ and _James Mitchel_ for Burglary,
|
|
suitable Preparations were accordingly made. The tender Youth of one
|
|
of them (who was but about 19) and the supposed Innocence of the
|
|
other as to the Fact for which they were condemned, had induced the
|
|
Judges (upon the Application of some compassionate People) to
|
|
recommend them to His Honour's known Clemency: But several
|
|
Malefactors having been already pardoned, and every Body being
|
|
sensible, that, considering the great Increase of Vagrants and idle
|
|
Persons, by the late large Importation of such from several Parts of
|
|
_Europe_, it was become necessary for the common Good to make some
|
|
Examples, there was but little Reason to hope that either, and less
|
|
that both of them might escape the Punishment justly due to Crimes of
|
|
that enormous Nature. About 11 o'Clock the Bell began to Toll, and a
|
|
numerous Croud of People was gathered near the Prison, to see these
|
|
unhappy young Men brought forth to suffer. While their Irons were
|
|
taken off, and their Arms were binding, _Prouse_ cry'd immoderately;
|
|
but _Mitchel_ (who had himself all along behaved with unusual
|
|
Fortitude) endeavoured in a friendly tender Manner to comfort him:
|
|
_Do not cry, Jemmy;_ (says he) _In an Hour or two it will be over
|
|
with us, and we shall both be easy_. They were then placed in a
|
|
Cart, together with a Coffin for each of them, and led thro' the Town
|
|
to the Place of Execution: _Prouse_ appear'd extreamly dejected, but
|
|
_Mitchel_ seemed to support himself with a becoming manly Constancy:
|
|
When they arriv'd at the fatal Tree, they were told that it was
|
|
expected they should make some Confession of their Crimes, and say
|
|
something by Way of Exhortation to the People. _Prouse_ was at
|
|
length with some Difficulty prevailed on to speak; he said, his
|
|
Confession had been taken in Writing the Evening before; he
|
|
acknowledged the Fact for which he was to die, but said, That
|
|
_Greyer_ who had sworn against him was the Person that persuaded him
|
|
to it; and declared that he had never wronged any Man beside Mr.
|
|
_Sheed_, and his Master. _Mitchel_ being desired to speak, reply'd
|
|
with a sober compos'd Countenance, _What would you have me to say? I
|
|
am innocent of the Fact_. He was then told, that it did not appear
|
|
well in him to persist in asserting his Innocence; that he had had a
|
|
fair Trial, and was found guilty by twelve honest and good Men. He
|
|
only answer'd, _I am innocent; and it will appear so before God;_ and
|
|
sat down. Then they were both bid to stand up, and the Ropes were
|
|
order'd to be thrown over the Beam; when the Sheriff took a Paper out
|
|
of his Pocket and began to read. The poor Wretches, whose Souls were
|
|
at that Time fill'd with the immediate Terrors of approaching Death,
|
|
having nothing else before their Eyes, and being without the least
|
|
Apprehension or Hope of a Reprieve, took but little Notice of what
|
|
was read; or it seems imagined it to be some previous Matter of Form,
|
|
as a Warrant for their Execution or the like, 'till they heard the
|
|
Words PITY and MERCY [_And whereas the said_ James Prouse _and_ James
|
|
Mitchel _have been recommended to me as proper Objects of Pity and
|
|
Mercy._] Immediately _Mitchel_ fell into the most violent Agony; and
|
|
having only said, _God bless the Governor_, he swooned away in the
|
|
Cart. Suitable Means were used to recover him; and when he came a
|
|
little to himself, he added; _I have been a great Sinner; I have been
|
|
guilty of almost every Crime; Sabbath-breaking in particular, which
|
|
led me into ill Company; but Theft I never was guilty of. God bless
|
|
the Governor; and God Almighty's Name be praised;_ and then swooned
|
|
again. _Prouse_ likewise seemed to be overwhelmed with Joy, but did
|
|
not swoon. All the Way back to the Prison, _Mitchel_ lean'd on his
|
|
Coffin, being unable to support himself, and shed Tears in abundance.
|
|
He who went out to die with a large Share of Resolution and
|
|
Fortitude, returned in the most dispirited Manner imaginable; being
|
|
utterly over-power'd by the Force of that sudden Turn of excessive
|
|
Joy, for which he had been no Way prepared. The Concern that
|
|
appeared in every Face while these Criminals were leading to
|
|
Execution, and the Joy that diffused it self thro' the whole
|
|
Multitude, so visible in their Countenances upon the mention of a
|
|
Reprieve, seems to be a pleasing Instance, and no small Argument of
|
|
the general laudable Humanity even of our common People, who were
|
|
unanimous in their loud Acclamations of _God bless the Governor for
|
|
his Mercy_.
|
|
|
|
The following are Copies of the Papers delivered out by
|
|
_Prouse_ and _Mitchel_ the Evening before, with little or no
|
|
Alteration from their own Words.
|
|
|
|
"I _James Prouse_ was born in the Town of _Brentford_ in
|
|
_Middlesex_ County in _Old England_, of honest Parents, who gave me
|
|
but little Education. My Father was a Corporal in the late Lord
|
|
_Oxford_'s Regiment of Horse, (then named the said Lord's Blues) and
|
|
I was for some Time in the Care of an Uncle who lived at _Eling_ near
|
|
_Brentford_ aforesaid, and who would have given me good Learning; but
|
|
I being young would not take his good Counsel, and in the 12th Year
|
|
of my Age came into _Philadelphia_, where I was recommended to one of
|
|
the best of Masters, who never let me want for any Thing: But I
|
|
minding the evil Insinuations of wicked People, more than the good
|
|
Dictates of my Master, and having not the Fear of God before my Eyes,
|
|
am deservedly brought to this wretched and shameful End. I
|
|
acknowledge I justly merit Death for the Fact which condemns me; but
|
|
I never had the least Design or Thought of the like, until often
|
|
press'd, and at length seduced to it by _John Greyer_, who was the
|
|
only Person that ruined me. He often solicited me to be guilty of
|
|
other Crimes of the like Nature, but I never was guilty of any such,
|
|
neither with him or any one else; neither did I ever wrong any Man
|
|
before, save my too indulgent Master; from whom I now and then
|
|
pilfer'd a Yard or the like of Cloth, in order to make Money to spend
|
|
with the said _Greyer_. As for _James Mitchel_ who dies for the same
|
|
Fact with me, as I hope to receive Mercy at the great Tribunal, he
|
|
the said _James Mitchel_ is intirely innocent, (*) and knew nothing
|
|
of the Fact until apprehended and taken. I am about Nineteen Years
|
|
of Age and die a Protestant.
|
|
_JAMES PROUSE_."
|
|
|
|
(*) N. B. _He declared the same Thing at the Bar just before he
|
|
received Sentence_.
|
|
|
|
_The Speech or Declaration of_ James Mitchel _written with his
|
|
own Hand_.
|
|
|
|
"I _James Mitchel_, was born, at _Antrim_ in the Kingdom of
|
|
_Ireland_, of good and honest Parents, and brought up with them until
|
|
the Age of 13 Years, and had a suitable Education given me, such as
|
|
being taught to read and write _English_, with some _Latin_; and
|
|
might have been further instructed, but at my earnest Request was
|
|
bound Apprentice to a Book-binder, and served 4 Years to that Trade;
|
|
after which I left the Kingdom and went for _England_ in order to be
|
|
further improved in my Business; but there had the Misfortune to be
|
|
press'd on board the _Berwick_ Man of War, commanded by the Honorable
|
|
_George Gordon_, and having been at several Parts abroad, returned to
|
|
_England_ in _Octob_. 1728. where I was by Sickness reduced to a very
|
|
sad Condition, through which I came over to this Country a Servant;
|
|
here I was it seems unfortunately led into bad Company, and one
|
|
Evening by _James Prouse_ was raised out of my Bed to go and drink
|
|
with him and one _Greyer_, the which _Greyer_ after parting gave to
|
|
the said _James Prouse_ Six-pence, which was all the Money I saw that
|
|
Night and till next Morning, and then _James Prouse_ took out of his
|
|
Pocket a 15 Shilling Bill, and desired me to get it changed for him,
|
|
in order to spend some of it; but coming unto Town I was apprehended
|
|
for the robbing of Mr. _George Sheed_, and now am to die for the
|
|
same. I die a Protestant.
|
|
_JAMES MITCHEL_."
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette,_ January 20, 1729/30
|
|
|
|
|
|
_A Gallant Duel and an Unhappy Man_
|
|
|
|
Saturday last, about nine o'Clock in the Morning two young
|
|
_Hibernian_ Gentlemen met on _Society Hill_, and fought a gallant
|
|
Duel before a Number of Spectators not very usual on such Occasions.
|
|
The Cause of their Quarrel is it seems unknown; and as they were
|
|
parted without much Difficulty, and neither of them received any
|
|
considerable Hurt, it is generally looked upon to be only a Piece of
|
|
_Theatrical Representation_.
|
|
|
|
The same Day an unhappy Man one _Sturgis_, upon some Difference
|
|
with his Wife, determined to drown himself in the River; and she,
|
|
(kind Wife) went with him, it seems, to see it faithfully performed,
|
|
and accordingly stood by silent and unconcerned during the whole
|
|
Transaction: He jump'd in near _Carpenter_'s Wharff, but was timely
|
|
taken out again, before what he came about was thoroughly effected,
|
|
so that they were both obliged to return home as they came, and put
|
|
up for that Time with the Disappointment.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, February 10, 1729/30
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Printer's Errors_
|
|
|
|
_To the Publisher of the_ Pennsylvania Gazette.
|
|
|
|
_Printerum est errare._
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
As your last Paper was reading in some Company where I was
|
|
present, these Words were taken Notice of in the Article concerning
|
|
Governor _Belcher_, [_After which his Excellency, with the Gentlemen
|
|
trading to New-England,_ died _elegantly at Pontack's_]. The Word
|
|
_died_ should doubtless have been _dined_, _Pontack_'s being a noted
|
|
Tavern and Eating-house in _London_ for Gentlemen of Condition; but
|
|
this Omission of the letter (_n_) in that Word, gave us as much
|
|
Entertainment as any Part of your Paper. One took the Opportunity of
|
|
telling us, that in a certain Edition of the Bible, the Printer had,
|
|
where _David_ says _I am fearfully and wonderfully made_, omitted the
|
|
Letter (_e_) in the last Word, so that it was, _I am fearfully and
|
|
wonderfully mad_; which occasion'd an ignorant Preacher, who took
|
|
that Text, to harangue his Audience for half an hour on the Subject
|
|
of _Spiritual Madness._ Another related to us, that when the Company
|
|
of Stationers in _England_ had the Printing of the Bible in their
|
|
Hands, the Word (_not_) was left out in the Seventh Commandment, and
|
|
the whole Edition was printed off with _Thou shalt commit Adultery_,
|
|
instead of _Thou shalt not_, &c. This material _Erratum_ induc'd the
|
|
Crown to take the Patent from them which is now held by the King's
|
|
Printer. The _Spectator_'s Remark upon this Story is, that he doubts
|
|
many of our modern Gentlemen have this faulty Edition by 'em, and are
|
|
not made sensible of the Mistake. A Third Person in the Company
|
|
acquainted us with an unlucky Fault that went through a whole
|
|
Impression of Common-Prayer-Books; in the Funeral Service, where
|
|
these Words are, _We shall all be changed in a moment, in the
|
|
twinkling of an Eye,_ &c. the Printer had omitted the (_c_) in
|
|
_changed_, and it read thus, _We shall all be hanged,_ &c. And
|
|
lastly, a Mistake of your Brother News-Printer was mentioned, in _The
|
|
Speech of_ James Prouse _written the Night before he was to have been
|
|
executed_, instead of _I die a Protestant_, he has put it, _I died a
|
|
Protestant_. Upon the whole you came off with the more favourable
|
|
Censure, because your Paper is most commonly very correct, and yet
|
|
you were never known to triumph upon it, by publickly ridiculing and
|
|
exposing the continual Blunders of your Contemporary. Which
|
|
Observation was concluded by a good old Gentleman in Company, with
|
|
this general just Remark, That whoever accustoms himself to pass over
|
|
in Silence the Faults of his Neighbours, shall meet with much better
|
|
Quarter from the World when he happens to fall into a Mistake
|
|
himself; for the Satyrical and Censorious, whose Hand is against
|
|
every Man, shall upon such Occasions have every Man's Hand against
|
|
him.
|
|
_I am, SIR, your Friend,_ &c.
|
|
J. T.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, March 13, 1729/30
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Letter of the Drum_
|
|
|
|
_To the Publisher of the_ GAZETTE.
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
I know well that the Age in which we live, abounds in
|
|
_Spinosists_, _Hobbists_, and _most impious Free-Thinkers_, who
|
|
despise _Revelation_, and treat the _most sacred Truths_ with
|
|
_Ridicule_ and _Contempt_: Nay, to such an Height of Iniquity are
|
|
they arrived, that they not only deny the _Existence_ of the _Devil_,
|
|
and of _Spirits_ in general, but would also persuade the World, that
|
|
the Story of _Saul_ and the _Witch of Endor_ is an Imposture; and
|
|
which is still worse, that no Credit is to be given to the so
|
|
well-attested One of the _Drummer_ of _Tedsworth._ I do, indeed,
|
|
confess that the Arguments of some of these unbelieving Gentlemen,
|
|
with whom I have heretofore conversed on the Subject of _Spirits_,
|
|
_Apparitions_, _Witches_, &c. carried with them a great Shew of
|
|
Reason, and were so specious, that I was strongly inclined to think
|
|
them in the Right; and for several Years past have lived without any
|
|
Fear or Apprehensions of _Daemons_ or _Hobgoblins_; but the Case is
|
|
quite alter'd with me now; and I who used to sleep without drawing my
|
|
Curtains, am now so fearful, that I pin them every Night I go to Bed
|
|
with corking Pins, and cover my self Head over Ears with the Clothes.
|
|
Now this Change is not owing, as you would imagine, to any frightful
|
|
Apparition I have seen, or uncommon Noise I have heard; but to a most
|
|
amazing Account I received the other Day from a Reverend Gentleman,
|
|
of a certain House's being haunted with the _D ------ l_ of a
|
|
Drummer, not a whit less obstreperous, than the _Tedsworthian_
|
|
Tympanist: This Gentleman, whose Veracity few People presume to call
|
|
in Question, told me, that he was not long since obliged to meet some
|
|
of his Brethren, at a certain Town about fifteen Miles below
|
|
_Philadelphia_, in order to settle some Affairs of the Church, and to
|
|
consult on proper Measures to prevent the _Growth of Atheism_; that
|
|
he was there joined by four of his Brethren; who insisting that it
|
|
was unpresidented to proceed to Business at their first Meeting, they
|
|
thereupon unanimously agreed to defer their Consultations 'till the
|
|
next Day; that they spent the Evening chearfully, yet soberly; that
|
|
about ten at Night they retired to repose themselves, but lodged in
|
|
separate Rooms; that he, with his Companion, were no sooner warm in
|
|
their Bed, than they heard a Drum beating very loud, now on the one
|
|
Side of their Bed, then on the other, and in a Moment after on the
|
|
Teaster; that sometimes they distinctly heard the _Scots Traveller_,
|
|
and at other Times the _Grenadiers March_; that the Noise continued
|
|
all Night, frighted them almost to Death, and yet, which is the most
|
|
surprizing and unaccountable Part of the Relation, disturbed no
|
|
Mortal in the House save themselves; that early in the Morning they
|
|
went into the next Room, where they found two of their Brethren
|
|
sleeping soundly; that they were amazed to find them so fast asleep
|
|
after such a terrible Night; that having awakened them, they asked
|
|
whether they had not been disturbed with the Noise of a Drum? that
|
|
they replied, They had rested well, and were surprized to hear them
|
|
ask such a Question, and hinted that they believed them to be out of
|
|
their Senses; upon which he related to them the Adventure of the
|
|
Night, so full of Horror, with all the Particulars I have mentioned,
|
|
and many more which I have omitted; That at first they seemed to give
|
|
little Credit to what he said; but upon his Bedfellow's affirming it
|
|
to be true, they appeared to be satisfied of the Reality of the Fact.
|
|
Then the Gentleman went on with his Story in this wise: That the next
|
|
Night he with his Companion went to Bed in the same Room, in which
|
|
they had been so terribly frighten'd; that they had not taken their
|
|
first Nap, before they heard an uncouth Noise under them; that his
|
|
Companion was shortly after seized violently and forcibly by the
|
|
great Toe, and in great Danger of being pulled out of the Bed; but
|
|
that upon the Beating of the Drum, which happen'd at the same
|
|
Instant, his Toe was released; and that to prevent any future
|
|
Attacks, they hoisted their Knees up to their very Noses; the Noise
|
|
still growing louder, they felt a most prodigious Weight on them,
|
|
heavier, as he said, than the _Night-Mare_; that by his Voice they
|
|
presently discovered it to be one of their Brethren, who had come
|
|
into their Room on purpose to scare them; either believing that they
|
|
had told him a Fib, or that they were under such potent Influences
|
|
the Night before, as made them imagine they heard a Drum, when in
|
|
Reality they did not; But mark, said the Relater to me; according to
|
|
the old Proverb, _Harm watch Harm catch_; for he was so frighted
|
|
himself, that he would not have ventured back to his own Room, though
|
|
he were sure to be made a Bishop; so that we were obliged to share
|
|
our Bed with him, in which we lay sweating, and almost dead with
|
|
Fear, 'till Morning. Thus he concluded his surprizing Relation,
|
|
which wrought so strongly on me, that I could no longer Doubt of the
|
|
_D ------ l_'s having plaid them this Prank; and to this Story only
|
|
my Timorousness is owing. Now, I know well enough, that some Folks
|
|
will be apt to say; it is all a Lye, a meer Forgery; in short, they
|
|
will raise an infinite Number of Objections to destroy its Credit;
|
|
for when I told it to a certain Person, he swore it could not be
|
|
true; because in a Piece of the learned _Greutzius_, which he had
|
|
read, _De examine Sagarum_, he found that all the Divines in
|
|
_Germany_ were clearly of Opinion, that the Devil never begins to
|
|
play his Pranks 'till after Midnight, and that no Spectres were seen
|
|
before that Time; and this Noise beginning between ten and eleven
|
|
both Nights, he was assured, for that Reason, that the Devil was no
|
|
Way concern'd in it; but he had almost staggered me, when he told me
|
|
this Story: _A certain Curate lived in the Island of_ Jamaica, _who
|
|
loved his Bottle, no Curate better; he chanced to be drinking in a
|
|
Tavern, when he was called upon to do the last Offices to a Brother
|
|
departed; upon which with great Reluctance he leaves his Company, but
|
|
told them he would return immediately: away he hies to the Place of
|
|
Burial, and, as is usual, reads over the Service for the Dead, 'till
|
|
he came to the Words,_ I heard a Voice from Heaven, saying, blessed,
|
|
_&c. at which he was interrupted by one of his Companions, who had
|
|
followed him from the Ale-house, with a `By G ------ that's a d
|
|
------ 'd Lye, for I have been drinking with you all Day at Mother
|
|
------ _'s, _and if you had heard the Voice, I should have heard it
|
|
too, for my Ears are as good as yours.'_ The Gentleman left me to
|
|
apply the Story.
|
|
|
|
Now, Sir, as I take you to be a Person of profound Learning and
|
|
Judgment, I desire you will set me to rights, by giving me your
|
|
Opinion candidly, whether I ought to give Credit to the above
|
|
Relation or not, altho' it be attested by two Reverend Fathers,
|
|
_I am, Sir, yours,_ &c.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 23, 1730
|
|
|
|
_On that Odd Letter of the Drum_
|
|
|
|
_To the Author of the_ Pennsylvania Gazette.
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_ _Burlington, April_ 27. 1730.
|
|
As I am your sincere Friend and Well-wisher, it is with a great
|
|
deal of Pleasure I have observed your prudent Management of the
|
|
News-Paper, in which, till last Week, there has been no one Thing
|
|
seen that might justly give Offence either to Church or State, or to
|
|
any private Person: But when I reflect how good a Judge you are of
|
|
what is or is not proper to be published in that manner, I am puzzled
|
|
to think what could induce you to insert that odd Letter of the
|
|
_Drum_ in your last _Gazette._ I am satisfied you know better than to
|
|
imagine that such a Thing would please the Generality of your
|
|
Readers, or that it might be instrumental in doing Good to any one
|
|
Creature living; I believe you have had no Reason to be piqu'd
|
|
against the Gentlemen there reflected on; and as to the Wit and
|
|
Humour which some Persons of reputed Taste pretend to discern in it,
|
|
I protest I can see none, and I think that true Wit and Humour cannot
|
|
be employ'd in ridiculing Things serious and sacred. Whoever was the
|
|
Writer of it, notwithstanding his seeming Reflection on _Spinosists_,
|
|
_Hobbists_, _and most impious Freethinkers_, his Design is apparent,
|
|
To bring the Dispensers of Religion among us into Contempt, and to
|
|
weaken our Belief of the Divine Writings; a Design, in my Opinion,
|
|
very unworthy an honest Man and a good Subject, even tho' he was of
|
|
no Religion at all. His depreciating the Holy Scriptures, by
|
|
insinuating that the Story of the Drummer of _Tedsworth_ is a better
|
|
attested One than that of _Saul_ and the Witch of _Endor_, as also
|
|
his satyrical Sneer at the Meeting of those Reverend Gentlemen _to
|
|
prevent the Growth of Atheism_, I pass over at present without any
|
|
further Remark; and as I apprehend that Arguments drawn from the
|
|
Truth of our Religion, will have but little Weight with this Writer,
|
|
in dissuading him from such a Way of indulging his satyrical Humour,
|
|
I would only request him to consider these Things seriously, _to
|
|
wit_, That wise Men have in all Ages thought Government necessary for
|
|
the Good of Mankind; and, that wise Governments have always thought
|
|
Religion necessary for the well ordering and well-being of Society,
|
|
and accordingly have been ever careful to encourage and protect the
|
|
Ministers of it, paying them the highest publick Honours, that their
|
|
Doctrines might thereby meet with the greater Respect among the
|
|
common People; And that if there were no Truth in Religion, or the
|
|
Salvation of Men's Souls not worth regarding, yet, in consideration
|
|
of the inestimable Service done to Mankind by the Clergy, as they are
|
|
the Teachers and Supporters of Virtue and Morality, without which no
|
|
Society could long subsist, prudent Men should be very cautious how
|
|
they say or write any thing that might bring them into Contempt, and
|
|
thereby weaken their Hands and render their Labours ineffectual. If
|
|
this Writer is a Man of good Sense, as I am willing to think he is, I
|
|
am persuaded this single Consideration will be sufficient to prevail
|
|
with him never more to employ his Pen in so unjustifiable a manner.
|
|
|
|
For my Part, I am entirely unacquainted with the Fact, the
|
|
Relation of which this Writer pretends to have at first believ'd,
|
|
till the Story of the _Jamaica_ Curate stagger'd his Faith. If he
|
|
really believ'd the Relation at first, I cannot see why that Story
|
|
should stagger his Faith in the least: For tho' one Man's Ears may be
|
|
as good as another's when both are awake and in Company, it does not
|
|
thence follow that one Man may not sleep sounder than another when in
|
|
Bed. Besides, as far as we know, _there is nothing absolutely
|
|
impossible in the Thing it self:_ We cannot be certain there are no
|
|
Spirits existing; it is rather highly probable that there are: But we
|
|
are sure that if Spirits do exist, we are very ignorant of their
|
|
Natures, and know neither their Motives nor Methods of Acting, nor
|
|
can we tell by what Means they may render themselves perceptible to
|
|
our Senses. Those who have contemplated the Nature of Animals seem
|
|
to be convinced that Spirit can act upon Matter, for they ascribe the
|
|
Motion of the Body to the Will and Power of the Mind. Anatomists
|
|
also tell us, that there are Nerves of Communication from all Parts
|
|
of the Body to the Brain: And Philosophers assure us, that the
|
|
Vibrations of the Air striking on the Auditory Nerves, give to the
|
|
Brain the Sensation of what we call Sound; and that the Rays of Light
|
|
striking on the optic Nerves, communicate a Motion to the Brain which
|
|
forms there the Image of that Thing from which those Rays were
|
|
reflected: We find that a sudden Blow upon the Eye shakes the visual
|
|
Nerve in the same Manner as when Light strikes it, and therefore we
|
|
think we see a Light, when there is no such Thing at that Time
|
|
visible without us, and no one standing by can see it, but the Person
|
|
that is struck alone. Now, how can we be assur'd that it is not in
|
|
the Power of a Spirit _without_ the body to operate in a like manner
|
|
on the Nerves of Sight, and give them the same Vibrations as when a
|
|
certain Object appears before the Eye, (tho' no such Object is really
|
|
present) and accordingly make a particular Man see the Apparition of
|
|
any Person or Thing at Pleasure, when no One else in Company can see
|
|
it? May not such a Spirit likewise occasion the same Vibrations in
|
|
the auditory Nerves as when the Sound of a Drum, or any other Sound,
|
|
is heard, and thereby affect the Party in the same manner as a real
|
|
Drum beating in the Room would do, tho' no one hears it but himself.
|
|
Perhaps I need not have said all this to a Person who believes _the
|
|
well-attested Story of the Drummer of Tedsworth_, since there are
|
|
many other Stories, equally incontestible with that, by which
|
|
reasonable Men are convinc'd that Spirits do not only actually exist,
|
|
but are able to make themselves sometimes both seen and heard.
|
|
|
|
In the Close of his Letter, after paying a Complement to your
|
|
_profound Learning and Judgment_, he requests _your Opinion, _whether
|
|
he ought to give Credit to the said Relation, tho' it be attested by
|
|
two Reverend Fathers_. Since you have not thought proper to say any
|
|
thing to it, I beg Leave to give the Gentleman my Opinion, which is,
|
|
_That he may very safely believe it_, and that for the following
|
|
Reasons.
|
|
|
|
1. Because, as I have shewn above, there is nothing absolutely
|
|
impossible in the Thing it self.
|
|
|
|
2. Because they were Men of Probity, Learning and sound good
|
|
Sense, who related this Fact to him upon their own Knowledge. If
|
|
they were not such, 'tis presum'd they would not have been thought
|
|
proper Persons to be made publick Instructors.
|
|
|
|
3. Because they both concur'd in the same Testimony; and it
|
|
cannot be imagin'd what Interest they should have in contriving
|
|
together to impose a Falshood of that Nature upon him; since they
|
|
could expect Nothing but to be ridicul'd for their Pains, both by him
|
|
and every other unthinking Sceptic in the Country.
|
|
|
|
If you insert this Epistle in your next Gazette, I shall
|
|
believe you did not approve of That I have been writing against, and
|
|
shall continue,
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
_Your real Friend and constant Reader,_
|
|
PHILOCLERUS.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, May 7, 1730
|
|
|
|
_An Unlucky She-Wrestler_
|
|
|
|
We have here an unlucky She-Wrestler who has lately thrown a
|
|
young Weaver, and broke his Leg, so that tis thought he will not be
|
|
able to tread the Treadles these two Months. In the mean Time,
|
|
however, he may employ himself in winding Quills.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, July 23, 1730
|
|
|
|
_Rules and Maxims for Promoting Matrimonial Happiness_
|
|
|
|
_Ver novum, ver jam canorum, vere natus Orbis est:
|
|
Vere concordant amores, vere nubent alites_ -- Catul.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Faelices ter, & amplius,
|
|
Quos irrupta tenet Copula: nec malis
|
|
Divulsis Querimoniis
|
|
Suprema citius solvet amor die_. Horat.
|
|
|
|
The happy State of Matrimony is, undoubtedly, the surest and
|
|
most lasting Foundation of Comfort and Love; the Source of all that
|
|
endearing Tenderness and Affection which arises from Relation and
|
|
Affinity; the grand Point of Property; the Cause of all good Order in
|
|
the World, and what alone preserves it from the utmost Confusion;
|
|
and, to sum up all, the Appointment of infinite Wisdom for these
|
|
great and good Purposes. Notwithstanding, such is the Perverseness
|
|
of human Nature, and so easy is it to misuse the best of Things, that
|
|
by the Folly and Ill-behaviour of those who enter into it, this is
|
|
very often made a State of the most exquisite Wretchedness and
|
|
Misery; which gives the wild and vicious Part of Mankind but too much
|
|
reason to rail against it, and treat it with Contempt. Wherefore, it
|
|
highly becomes the virtuous of both Sexes, by the Prudence of their
|
|
Conduct, to redeem this noble Institution from those unjust
|
|
Reproaches which it at present labours under, and restore it to the
|
|
Honour and Esteem it merits, by endeavouring to make each other as
|
|
happy as they can.
|
|
|
|
I am now about to lay down such Rules and Maxims as I think
|
|
most practicable and conducive towards the End and Happiness of
|
|
Matrimony. And these I address to all Females that would be married,
|
|
or are already so; not that I suppose their Sex more faulty than the
|
|
other, and most to want Advice, for I assure them, upon my Honour, I
|
|
believe the quite contrary; but the Reason is, because I esteem them
|
|
better disposed to receive and practice it, and therefore am willing
|
|
to begin, where I may promise myself the best Success. Besides, if
|
|
there is any Truth in Proverbs, _Good Wives_ usually make _Good
|
|
Husbands_.
|
|
|
|
_RULES and MAXIMS for promoting_ Matrimonial Happiness.
|
|
_Address'd to all_ Widows, Wives, _and_ Spinsters.
|
|
|
|
The likeliest Way, either to obtain a _good Husband_, or to
|
|
keep one _so_, is to be _Good_ yourself.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Never use a _Lover_ ill whom you design to make your _Husband_,
|
|
lest he either upbraid you with it, or return it afterwards: and if
|
|
you find, at any Time, an Inclination to play the Tyrant, remember
|
|
these two Lines of Truth and Justice.
|
|
|
|
_Gently shall those be_ rul'd, _who_ gently _sway'd;_
|
|
Abject _shall those_ obey, _who_ haughty _were_ obey'd.
|
|
|
|
Avoid, both before and after Marriage, all Thoughts of
|
|
_managing_ your Husband. Never endeavour to deceive or impose on his
|
|
Understanding: nor give him _Uneasiness_ (as some do very foolishly)
|
|
to _try_ his Temper; but treat him always beforehand with
|
|
_Sincerity_, and afterwards with _Affection_ and _Respect_.
|
|
|
|
Be not over sanguine before Marriage, nor promise your self
|
|
Felicity without Alloy, for that's impossible to be attain'd in this
|
|
present State of Things. Consider beforehand, that the Person you
|
|
are going to spend your Days with, is a Man, and not an Angel; and
|
|
if, when you come together, you discover any Thing in his Humour or
|
|
Behaviour that is not altogether so agreeable as you expected, _pass
|
|
it over as a humane Frailty_: smooth your Brow; compose your Temper;
|
|
and try to amend it by _Cheerfulness_ and Good-nature.
|
|
|
|
Remember always, that whatever Misfortunes may happen to
|
|
either, they are not to be charg'd to the Account of _Matrimony_, but
|
|
to the Accidents and Infirmities of humane Life, a Burthen which each
|
|
has engaged to assist the other in supporting, and to which both
|
|
Parties are equally expos'd. Therefore, instead of _Murmurs_,
|
|
_Reflections_, and _Disagreement_, whereby the _Weight_ is rendred
|
|
abundantly more _grievous_, readily put your Shoulders to the Yoke,
|
|
and make it easier to both.
|
|
|
|
Resolve every Morning to be _good-natur'd_ and CHEERFUL that
|
|
Day: and if any Accident should happen to break that Resolution,
|
|
suffer it not to put you out of Temper with every Thing besides, and
|
|
especially with your Husband.
|
|
|
|
Dispute not with him, be the Occasion what it will; but much
|
|
rather deny yourself the trivial Satisfaction of having your own
|
|
Will, or gaining the better of an Argument, than risk a Quarrel or
|
|
create an Heart-burning, which it's impossible to know the End of.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Be assured, a Woman's Power, as well as Happiness, has no other
|
|
Foundation but her Husband's Esteem and Love, which consequently it
|
|
is her undoubted Interest by all Means possible to preserve and
|
|
increase. Do you, therefore, study his Temper, and command your own;
|
|
enjoy his Satisfaction with him, share and sooth his Cares, and with
|
|
the utmost Diligence conceal his Infirmities.
|
|
|
|
Read frequently with due Attention the Matrimonial Service; and
|
|
take care in doing so, not to overlook the Word _Obey_.
|
|
|
|
In your Prayers be sure to add a Clause for Grace to make you a
|
|
good Wife; and at the same Time, resolve to do your utmost endeavour
|
|
towards it.
|
|
|
|
Always wear your Wedding Ring, for therein lies more Virtue
|
|
than usually is imagined. If you are ruffled unawares, assaulted
|
|
with improper Thoughts, or tempted in any kind against your Duty,
|
|
cast your Eyes upon it, and call to Mind, who gave it you, where it
|
|
was received, and what passed at that solemn Time.
|
|
|
|
Let the Tenderness of your conjugal Love be expressed with such
|
|
Decency, Delicacy and Prudence, as that it may appear plainly and
|
|
thorowly distinct from the designing Fondness of an Harlot.
|
|
|
|
Have you any Concern for your own Ease, or for your Husband's
|
|
Esteem? then, have a due Regard to his Income and Circumstances in
|
|
all your Expences and Desires: For if Necessity should follow, you
|
|
run the greatest Hazard of being deprived of both.
|
|
|
|
Let not many Days pass together without a serious Examination
|
|
how you have behaved as a Wife, and if upon Reflection you find your
|
|
self guilty of any Foibles or Omissions, the best Attonement is, to
|
|
be exactly careful of your future Conduct.
|
|
|
|
I am fully persuaded, that a strict Adherence to the foregoing
|
|
Rules would equally advance the Honour of Matrimony, and the _Glory_
|
|
of the _Fair Sex_: And since the greatest Part of them, with a very
|
|
little Alteration, are as proper for Husbands as for Wives to
|
|
practice, I recommend them accordingly to their Consideration, and
|
|
hope, in a short time, to receive Acknowledgments from _married
|
|
Persons_ of _both Sexes_ for the Benefit they receive thereby.
|
|
|
|
And now, in behalf of my _unlearned Readers_, I beg Leave of my
|
|
_learned Ones_, to conclude this Discourse with Mr. _Creech_'s
|
|
Translation of that Part of _Horace_ which I have taken for the
|
|
_Motto_ of this Paper.
|
|
|
|
_Thrice happy_ They, _that free from_ Strife,
|
|
_Maintain a_ Love _as long as Life:
|
|
Whose fixt and binding Vows,
|
|
No intervening_ Jealousy,
|
|
_No_ Fears _and no_ Debates _untye;
|
|
And_ Death _alone can loose_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, October 8, 1730
|
|
|
|
_A Witch Trial at Mount Holly_
|
|
|
|
_Burlington, Oct_. 12. Saturday last at _Mount-Holly_, about 8
|
|
Miles from this Place, near 300 People were gathered together to see
|
|
an Experiment or two tried on some Persons accused of Witchcraft. It
|
|
seems the Accused had been charged with making their Neighbours Sheep
|
|
dance in an uncommon Manner, and with causing Hogs to speak, and sing
|
|
Psalms, &c. to the great Terror and Amazement of the King's good and
|
|
peaceable Subjects in this Province; and the Accusers being very
|
|
positive that if the Accused were weighed in Scales against a Bible,
|
|
the Bible would prove too heavy for them; or that, if they were bound
|
|
and put into the River, they would swim; the said Accused desirous to
|
|
make their Innocence appear, voluntarily offered to undergo the said
|
|
Trials, if 2 of the most violent of their Accusers would be tried
|
|
with them. Accordingly the Time and Place was agreed on, and
|
|
advertised about the Country; The Accusers were 1 Man and 1 Woman;
|
|
and the Accused the same. The Parties being met, and the People got
|
|
together, a grand Consultation was held, before they proceeded to
|
|
Trial; in which it was agreed to use the Scales first; and a
|
|
Committee of Men were appointed to search the Men, and a Committee of
|
|
Women to search the Women, to see if they had any Thing of Weight
|
|
about them, particularly Pins. After the Scrutiny was over, a huge
|
|
great Bible belonging to the Justice of the Place was provided, and a
|
|
Lane through the Populace was made from the Justices House to the
|
|
Scales, which were fixed on a Gallows erected for that Purpose
|
|
opposite to the House, that the Justice's Wife and the rest of the
|
|
Ladies might see the Trial, without coming amongst the Mob; and after
|
|
the Manner of _Moorfields_, a large Ring was also made. Then came
|
|
out of the House a grave tall Man carrying the Holy Writ before the
|
|
supposed Wizard, &c. (as solemnly as the Sword-bearer of _London_
|
|
before the Lord Mayor) the Wizard was first put in the Scale, and
|
|
over him was read a Chapter out of the Books of _Moses_, and then the
|
|
Bible was put in the other Scale, (which being kept down before) was
|
|
immediately let go; but to the great Surprize of the Spectators,
|
|
Flesh and Bones came down plump, and outweighed that great good Book
|
|
by abundance. After the same Manner, the others were served, and
|
|
their Lumps of Mortality severally were too heavy for _Moses_ and all
|
|
the Prophets and Apostles. This being over, the Accusers and the
|
|
rest of the Mob, not satisfied with this Experiment, would have the
|
|
Trial by Water; accordingly a most solemn Procession was made to the
|
|
Mill-pond; where both Accused and Accusers being stripp'd (saving
|
|
only to the Women their Shifts) were bound Hand and Foot, and
|
|
severally placed in the Water, lengthways, from the Side of a Barge
|
|
or Flat, having for Security only a Rope about the Middle of each,
|
|
which was held by some in the Flat. The Accuser Man being thin and
|
|
spare, with some Difficulty began to sink at last; but the rest every
|
|
one of them swam very light upon the Water. A Sailor in the Flat
|
|
jump'd out upon the Back of the Man accused, thinking to drive him
|
|
down to the Bottom; but the Person bound, without any Help, came up
|
|
some time before the other. The Woman Accuser, being told that she
|
|
did not sink, would be duck'd a second Time; when she swam again as
|
|
light as before. Upon which she declared, That she believed the
|
|
Accused had bewitched her to make her so light, and that she would be
|
|
duck'd again a Hundred Times, but she would duck the Devil out of
|
|
her. The accused Man, being surpriz'd at his own Swimming, was not
|
|
so confident of his Innocence as before, but said, _If I am a Witch,
|
|
it is more than I know._ The more thinking Part of the Spectators
|
|
were of Opinion, that any Person so bound and plac'd in the Water
|
|
(unless they were mere Skin and Bones) would swim till their Breath
|
|
was gone, and their Lungs fill'd with Water. But it being the
|
|
general Belief of the Populace, that the Womens Shifts, and the
|
|
Garters with which they were bound help'd to support them; it is said
|
|
they are to be tried again the next warm Weather, naked.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, October 22, 1730
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Aurora Borealis_
|
|
|
|
Last Thursday Evening there was seen throughout this Province
|
|
in the N. East, a very bright Appearance of the _Aurora Borealis_, or
|
|
Northern Twilight. It seems this kind of Meteor never appears near
|
|
the Equator, and has therefore obtained the above Name. In 1716,
|
|
March 6. there was one visible to the West of _Ireland_, Confines of
|
|
_Russia_, and to the East of _Poland_; extending at least near 30
|
|
deg. of Longitude, and 50 deg. in Latitude, that is, over almost all
|
|
the North of _Europe_; it continued three Nights successively, and in
|
|
all Places at the same time it exhibited the like wondrous
|
|
Circumstances. In the Years 1707 and 1708, five small ones were
|
|
observ'd in little more than eighteen Months. But a sufficient
|
|
Number of Observations have not yet been made by the Curious, to
|
|
enable them to assign the Cause of this Phaenomenon with any
|
|
Certainty.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, October 29, 1730
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Earliest New-England Immigrants_
|
|
|
|
Sometime since, the following Lines were found stuck on the
|
|
outside of the Door of the Council Chamber.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Our Fathers pass'd the wide_ Atlantick _Sea,
|
|
And bless'd themselves when in the Desert Free:
|
|
And shall their Sons thro' Treachery and Fear,
|
|
Give up that Freedom which has cost so dear?
|
|
Whate'er Pretence our Enemies may frame,
|
|
The Man is alter'd, but the Cause the same.
|
|
From_ Caesar'_s Court should_ Cato _fawning come,
|
|
Be sure that_ Cato _is no Friend to_ Rome.
|
|
|
|
To which a Gentleman in _New-York_ has wrote the following Answer.
|
|
|
|
_Their Fathers crost the wide_ Atlantick Sea,
|
|
_To be in Desarts from their_ Deserts _free;
|
|
And shall their Sons with glaring Insolence
|
|
Support a Cause so void of common Sense?
|
|
What-e'er Pretence this stubborn People frame,
|
|
The Case is alter'd, but the Men the same.
|
|
From_ Caesar'_s Court should a new Ruler come,
|
|
Be sure they'll starve him, as they've others done._
|
|
|
|
Whatever Wit there may be in this Answer, it contains one
|
|
Reflection not altogether just: Since 'tis certain, that the greatest
|
|
Part of the Settlers of New-England removed thither on no other
|
|
Account than for the sake of enjoying their Liberty, especially their
|
|
religious Liberties, in greater Security: Being persecuted at home,
|
|
as _Puritans_ in the Reign of _James_ I. and among all other
|
|
Dissenters in the Reign of _Charles_ II.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, November 5, 1730
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Lying Shopkeepers_
|
|
|
|
_Veritas Luce clarior_.
|
|
|
|
A Friend of mine was the other Day cheapening some Trifles at a
|
|
Shopkeepers, and after a few Words, they agreed on a Price; at the
|
|
lapping up this Purchase, the Mistress of the Shop told him, People
|
|
were grown very hard, for she actually lost by every thing she sold:
|
|
How then is it possible, replied my Friend, that you can keep on your
|
|
Business? Indeed, Sir, answer'd she, I must of Necessity shut my
|
|
Doors, had I not a very great Trade. The Reason, said my Friend,
|
|
with a Sneer, is admirable.
|
|
|
|
There are a great many Retailers, who falsly imagine that being
|
|
_Historical_ (the modern Phrase for _Lying_) is much for their
|
|
Advantage; and some of them have a Saying, _That 'tis a Pity Lying is
|
|
a Sin, it is so useful in Trade_; tho', if they would examine into
|
|
the Reason why a Number of Shopkeepers raise considerable Estates,
|
|
while others, who have set out with better Fortunes have become
|
|
Bankrupts; they will find, that the former made up with Truth,
|
|
Diligence and Probity, what they wanted in Stock, and the latter have
|
|
been guilty of imposing on such Customers as they found had no Skill
|
|
in their Goods. The former's Character raises a Credit which
|
|
supplies the Want of Fortune, and their fair Dealing, brings them
|
|
Custom; whereas none will return to buy of him, by whom he has been
|
|
once defrauded. If People in Trade would judge rightly, we might buy
|
|
blindfold, and they would save, both to themselves and Customers, the
|
|
uneasiness of Haggling.
|
|
|
|
Though there are Numbers of Shopkeepers, who scorn that mean
|
|
Vice of _Lying_, and whose Word may very safely be relied on; yet
|
|
there are too many, who will endeavour to deceive, and, backing their
|
|
Falsities with Asseverations, pawn their Salvation to raise their
|
|
Price. As Example works more than Precept, and my sole View being
|
|
the Good and Interest of my Countrymen, whom I could wish without
|
|
Vice or Folly, I shall shew the Esteem of _Truth_, and the
|
|
Abbhorrence of _Falsity_ among the Antients.
|
|
|
|
_Augustus_ triumphing over _Mark Anthony_ and _Cleopatra_,
|
|
among other Captives, brought to _Rome_ a Priest about 60 Years old.
|
|
The Senate being inform'd that this Man was never detected in a
|
|
_Lie_, and thought never to have been guilty of one, not only
|
|
restored him to his Liberty, but made him a High Priest, and raised
|
|
him a Statue. This Priest thus honoured, was an _Aegyptian_, and an
|
|
Enemy to _Rome_, but this Virtue cover'd all Obstacles: Whereas
|
|
_Pamphilus_ was a _Roman_ Citizen, whose Body was deny'd Burial, his
|
|
Estate confiscated, his House raz'd, and his Wife and Children
|
|
banished the _Roman_ Territories, for his having been a noted and
|
|
irreclaimable _Liar_. Can there be a greater Demonstration of
|
|
Respect to Truth than this of the _Romans_, who raised an Enemy to
|
|
the greatest Honour, and exposed a Citizen's Family to the greatest
|
|
Contumely!
|
|
|
|
There is no Excuse for _Lying_, neither is there any equally
|
|
despicable and dangerous with a _Liar_, no Man being in Safety who
|
|
frequents his Company; for who will _lie_ (says the _English_
|
|
Proverb) will _swear_; and such an one may take away my Life, turn my
|
|
Family a begging, and ruin my Reputation, whenever he shall find it
|
|
for his Interest: For if a Man will _lie_ and _swear_ in his Shop to
|
|
get a Trifle, why should we question his doing of it, when he may
|
|
hope to make his Fortune by his _Perjury_! the Crime is in itself so
|
|
mean, that to call a Man a _Liar_, is every where esteem'd an Affront
|
|
not to be forgiven. If any have Lenity enough to allow the
|
|
_Dealer_'s Excuse for this base Practice, yet I believe they will
|
|
allow none for the _Gentleman_ who is addicted to this Vice, and must
|
|
look upon him as a Wretch undeserving the Name; and that the World
|
|
does so, is visible, by the Contempt with which he is mentioned
|
|
whenever there is Occasion to name him.
|
|
|
|
_Epimenides_ the Philosopher, gave the _Rhodians_ this
|
|
Definition of Truth, That she was Companion of the Gods, the Joy of
|
|
Heaven, the Light of the Earth, the Basis of Justice, and the
|
|
Foundation of good Policy. _Eschines_ told the same People, that
|
|
Truth was a Virtue, without which, Force was enfeebled, Justice
|
|
corrupted; Humility was Dissimulation, Patience intolerable, Chastity
|
|
dissembled, Liberty lost, and Pity superfluous. _Pharmacus_ the
|
|
Philosopher; told the _Romans_, that Truth was the Centre in which
|
|
all Things rested; a Chart to sail by, a Remedy for all Evils, and a
|
|
Light to the whole World. _Anaxarchus_ speaking of _Truth_, to the
|
|
_Lacedemonians_, said, It was Health incapable of Sickness; Life not
|
|
subject to Death; an Elixir which healeth all; a Sun not to be
|
|
obscur'd; a Moon without Eclipse; an Herb which never withereth; a
|
|
Gate that is never closed, and a Path which never fatigues the
|
|
Traveller.
|
|
|
|
But if we are blind to the Beauties of _Truth_, it's
|
|
astonishing that we should not open our Eyes to the Inconveniencies
|
|
of Falsities; for a Man given to Romance, must be always on his
|
|
Guard, for Fear of contradicting, and exposing himself to the
|
|
Derision of his Hearers: For the most _Historical_ would avoid the
|
|
odious Character; tho' 'tis impossible for any, with all their
|
|
Circumspection, to travel long in this Road, without being
|
|
discover'd; and then what Shame, what Confusion follows! he is
|
|
continually anxious to hide himself from the Knowledge of the World,
|
|
and loads his Memory with Trifles, for fear of being taken with his
|
|
own Words. Whereas, who is a Votary to _Truth_, never hesitates for
|
|
an Answer, never wrecks his Invention, to make the Sequel quadrate
|
|
with the foregoing Part of his Discourse; is not obliged to burden
|
|
his Memory with minute Circumstances, since Truth easily recollects
|
|
them, speaks openly, and will repeat the same Things often, without
|
|
varying; which a _Liar_ can hardly do, without that necessary Gift, a
|
|
good Memory.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, November 19, 1730
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Replies by "Betty Diligent" and "Mercator"_
|
|
|
|
_As a Nail sticketh fast between the Joinings of the Stones, so doth
|
|
Sin stick close between Buying and Selling._ Apocrypha.
|
|
|
|
We have received the two following Letters, relating to our
|
|
_Gazette_ of the 19th past. The first is from a _Shopkeeper_, and
|
|
the other from a _Merchant_.
|
|
|
|
_To the Author of the_ GAZETTE.
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
`I am a Shopkeeper in this City, and I suppose am the Person at
|
|
whom some Reflections are aimed in one of your late Papers. It is an
|
|
easy Matter for Gentlemen that can write, to say a great deal upon
|
|
any Subject, and to censure Faults of which perhaps they are as
|
|
guilty as other People. I cannot help thinking that Paper is wrote
|
|
with much Partiality, and is a very unfair Representation of Things.
|
|
Shopkeepers are therein accus'd of _Lying_, as if they were the only
|
|
Persons culpable, without the least Notice being taken of the general
|
|
Lying practis'd by _Customers_. _I am sure 'tis very ordinary at
|
|
that Price; I have bought much better at such a one's Shop for less
|
|
Money;_ are very common Falsities repeated on this Occasion, almost
|
|
worn threadbare; but some have even the Confidence to aver, _that
|
|
they have bought cheaper of me;_ when I know the Price they mention
|
|
is less than the Goods cost me. In short, they will tell a hundred
|
|
Lies to undervalue our Goods, and make our Demands appear
|
|
extravagant: So that the Blame of all the Lying properly belongs to
|
|
the Customers that come to buy; because if the Shopkeepers strain the
|
|
Truth a little now and then, they are forc'd to do it in their own
|
|
Defence. In hopes you will do us Justice in this Affair, I remain,
|
|
_Your Friend and Servant,_
|
|
Betty Diligent.'
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Gazetteer_,
|
|
`You have in a late Paper very justly taken Notice of, and
|
|
censur'd the too common Practice of Lying used by Shopkeepers in
|
|
_selling_ their Goods; but you have omitted just one half the Story,
|
|
_viz._ their Lying when they come to the Stores to _buy_. I believe
|
|
they think Lying full as convenient and beneficial in _buying_ their
|
|
Goods as selling them; for to my Knowledge some of them are most
|
|
egregiously guilty in this Particular.
|
|
_I am, Sir, Yours_, &c.
|
|
Mercator.'
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, December 3, 1730
|
|
|
|
|
|
_On the Providence of God in the Government of the World_
|
|
|
|
When I consider my own Weakness, and the discerning Judgment of
|
|
those who are to be my Audience, I cannot help blaming my self
|
|
considerably, for this rash Undertaking of mine, it being a Thing I
|
|
am altogether ill practis'd in and very much unqualified for; I am
|
|
especially discouraged when I reflect that you are all my intimate
|
|
Pot Companions who have heard me say a 1000 silly Things in
|
|
Conversations, and therefore have not that laudable Partiality and
|
|
Veneration for whatever I shall deliver that Good People commonly
|
|
have for their Spiritual Guides; that You have no Reverence for my
|
|
Habit, nor for the Sanctity of my Countenance; that you do not
|
|
believe me inspir'd or divinely assisted, and therefore will think
|
|
your Selves at Liberty to assent or dissent approve or disapprove of
|
|
any Thing I advance, canvassing and sifting it as the private Opinion
|
|
of one of your Acquaintance. These are great Disadvantages and
|
|
Discouragements but I am enter'd and must proceed, humbly requesting
|
|
your Patience and Attention.
|
|
|
|
I propose at this Time to discourse on the Subject of our last
|
|
Conversation: the Providence of God in the Government of the World.
|
|
I shall not attempt to amuse you with Flourishes of Rhetorick, were I
|
|
master of that deceitful Science because I know ye are Men of
|
|
substantial Reason and can easily discern between sound Argument and
|
|
the false Glosses of Oratory; nor shall I endeavour to impose on your
|
|
Ears, by a musical Accent in delivery, in the Tone of one violently
|
|
affected with what he says; for well I know that ye are far from
|
|
being superstitious or fond of unmeaning Noise, and that ye believe a
|
|
Thing to be no more true for being sung than said. I intend to offer
|
|
you nothing but plain Reasoning, devoid of Art and Ornament;
|
|
unsupported by the Authority of any Books or Men how sacred soever;
|
|
because I know that no Authority is more convincing to Men of Reason
|
|
than the Authority of Reason itself. It might be judg'd an Affront
|
|
to your Understandings should I go about to prove this first
|
|
Principle, the Existence of a Deity and that he is the Creator of the
|
|
Universe, for that would suppose you ignorant of what all Mankind in
|
|
all Ages have agreed in. I shall therefore proceed to observe: 1.
|
|
That he must be a Being of great Wisdom; 2. That he must be a Being
|
|
of great Goodness and 3. That he must be a Being of great Power.
|
|
That he must be a Being of infinite Wisdom, appears in his admirable
|
|
Order and Disposition of Things, whether we consider the heavenly
|
|
Bodies, the Stars and Planets, and their wonderful regular Motions,
|
|
or this Earth compounded of such an Excellent mixture of all the
|
|
Elements; or the admirable Structure of Animal Bodies of such
|
|
infinite Variety, and yet every one adapted to its Nature, and the
|
|
Way of Life it is to be placed in, whether on Earth, in the Air or in
|
|
the Waters, and so exactly that the highest and most exquisite human
|
|
Reason, cannot find a fault and say this would have been better so or
|
|
in another Manner, which whoever considers attentively and thoroughly
|
|
will be astonish'd and swallow'd up in Admiration.
|
|
|
|
2. That the Deity is a Being of great Goodness, appears in his
|
|
giving Life to so many Creatures, each of which acknowledge it a
|
|
Benefit by their Unwillingness to leave it; in his providing
|
|
plentiful Sustenance for them all, and making those Things that are
|
|
most useful, most common and easy to be had; such as Water necessary
|
|
for almost every Creature's Drink; Air without which few could
|
|
subsist, the inexpressible Benefits of Light and Sunshine to almost
|
|
all Animals in general; and to Men the most useful Vegetables, such
|
|
as Corn, the most useful of Metals as Iron, and the most useful
|
|
Animals, as Horses, Oxen and Sheep, he has made easiest to raise, or
|
|
procure in Quantity or Numbers: each of which particulars if
|
|
considered seriously and carefully would fill us with the highest
|
|
Love and Affection. 3. That he is a Being of infinite Power appears,
|
|
in his being able to form and compound such Vast Masses of Matter as
|
|
this Earth and the Sun and innumerable Planets and Stars, and give
|
|
them such prodigious Motion, and yet so to govern them in their
|
|
greatest Velocity as that they shall not flie off out of their
|
|
appointed Bounds nor dash one against another, to their mutual
|
|
Destruction; but 'tis easy to conceive his Power, when we are
|
|
convinc'd of his infinite Knowledge and Wisdom; for if weak and
|
|
foolish Creatures as we are, by knowing the Nature of a few Things
|
|
can produce such wonderful Effects; such as for instance by knowing
|
|
the Nature only of Nitre and Sea Salt mix'd we can make a Water which
|
|
will dissolve the hardest Iron and by adding one Ingredient more, can
|
|
make another Water which will dissolve Gold and render the most Solid
|
|
Bodies fluid -- and by knowing the Nature of Salt Peter Sulphur and
|
|
Charcoal those mean Ingredients mix'd we can shake the Air in the
|
|
most terrible Manner, destroy Ships Houses and Men at a Distance and
|
|
in an Instant, overthrow Cities, rend Rocks into a Thousand Pieces,
|
|
and level the highest Mountains. What Power must he possess who not
|
|
only knows the Nature of every Thing in the Universe, but can make
|
|
Things of new Natures with the greatest Ease and at his Pleasure!
|
|
|
|
Agreeing then that the World was at first made by a Being of
|
|
infinite Wisdom, Goodness and Power, which Being we call God; The
|
|
State of Things ever since and at this Time must be in one of these
|
|
four following manners, viz.
|
|
|
|
1. Either he unchangeably decreed and appointed every Thing
|
|
that comes to pass; and left nothing to the Course of Nature, nor
|
|
allow'd any Creature free agency. or
|
|
|
|
2. Without decreeing any thing, he left all to general Nature
|
|
and the Events of Free Agency in his Creatures, which he never alters
|
|
or interrupts. or
|
|
|
|
3. He decreed some Things unchangeably, and left others to
|
|
general Nature and the Events of Free agency, which also he never
|
|
alters or interrupts; or
|
|
|
|
4. He sometimes interferes by his particular Providence and
|
|
sets aside the Effects which would otherwise have been produced by
|
|
any of the Above Causes.
|
|
|
|
I shall endeavour to shew the first 3 Suppositions to be
|
|
inconsistent with the common Light of Reason; and that the 4th is
|
|
most agreeable to it, and therefore most probably true.
|
|
|
|
In the 1. place. If you say he has in the Beginning
|
|
unchangeably decreed all Things and left Nothing to Nature or free
|
|
Agency. These Strange Conclusions will necessarily follow; 1. That
|
|
he is now no more a God. 'Tis true indeed, before he had made such
|
|
unchangeable Decree, he was a Being of Power, Almighty; but now
|
|
having determin'd every Thing, he has divested himself of all further
|
|
Power, he has done and has no more to do, he has ty'd up his Hands,
|
|
and has now no greater Power than an Idol of Wood or Stone; nor can
|
|
there be any more Reason for praying to him or worshipping of him,
|
|
than of such an Idol for the Worshippers can be never the better for
|
|
such Worship. Then 2. he has decreed some things contrary to the
|
|
very Notion of a wise and good Being; Such as that some of his
|
|
Creatures or Children shall do all Manner of Injury to others and
|
|
bring every kind of Evil upon them without Cause; that some of them
|
|
shall even blaspheme him their Creator in the most horrible manner;
|
|
and, which is still more highly absurd that he has decreed the
|
|
greatest Part of Mankind, shall in all Ages, put up their earnest
|
|
Prayers to him both in private and publickly in great Assemblies,
|
|
when all the while he had so determin'd their Fate that he could not
|
|
possibly grant them any Benefits on that Account, nor could such
|
|
Prayers be any way available. Why then should he ordain them to make
|
|
such Prayers? It cannot be imagined they are of any Service to him.
|
|
Surely it is not more difficult to believe the World was made by a
|
|
God of Wood or Stone, than that the God who made the World should be
|
|
such a God as this.
|
|
|
|
In the 2. Place. If you say he has decreed nothing but left
|
|
all things to general Nature, and the Events of Free Agency, which he
|
|
never alters or interrupts. Then these Conclusions will follow; He
|
|
must either utterly hide him self from the Works of his Hands, and
|
|
take no Notice at all of their Proceedings natural or moral; or he
|
|
must be as undoubtedly he is, a Spectator of every thing; for there
|
|
can be no Reason or Ground to suppose the first -- I say there can be
|
|
no Reason to imagine he would make so glorious a Universe meerly to
|
|
abandon it. In this Case imagine the Deity looking on and beholding
|
|
the Ways of his Creatures; some Hero's in Virtue he sees are
|
|
incessantly indeavouring the Good of others, they labour thro vast
|
|
difficulties, they suffer incredible Hardships and Miseries to
|
|
accomplish this End, in hopes to please a Good God, and obtain his
|
|
Favour, which they earnestly Pray for; what Answer can he make them
|
|
within himself but this; _take the Reward Chance may give you, I do
|
|
not intermeddle in these Affairs;_ he sees others continually doing
|
|
all manner of Evil, and bringing by their Actions Misery and
|
|
Destruction among Mankind: What can he say here but this, _if Chance
|
|
rewards you I shall not punish you, I am not to be concerned._ He
|
|
sees the just, the innocent and the Beneficent in the Hands of the
|
|
wicked and violent Oppressor; and when the good are at the Brink of
|
|
Destruction they pray to him, _thou, O God, art mighty and powerful
|
|
to save; help us we beseech thee:_ He answers, _I cannot help you,
|
|
'tis none of my Business nor do I at all regard these things._ How is
|
|
it possible to believe a wise and an infinitely Good Being can be
|
|
delighted in this Circumstance; and be utterly unconcern'd what
|
|
becomes of the Beings and Things he has created; for thus, we must
|
|
believe him idle and unactive, and that his glorious Attributes of
|
|
Power, Wisdom and Goodness are no more to be made use of.
|
|
|
|
In the Third Place. If you say he has decreed some things and
|
|
left others to the Events of Nature and Free Agency, Which he never
|
|
alters or interrupts; Still you unGod him, if I may be allow'd the
|
|
Expression; he has nothing to do; he can cause us neither Good nor
|
|
Harm; he is no more to be regarded than a lifeless Image, than Dagon,
|
|
or Baall, or Bell and the Dragon; and as in both the other
|
|
Suppositions foregoing, that Being which from its Power is most able
|
|
to Act, from its Wisdom knows best how to act, and from its Goodness
|
|
would always certainly act best, is in this Opinion supposed to
|
|
become the most unactive of all Beings and remain everlastingly Idle;
|
|
an Absurdity, which when considered or but barely seen, cannot be
|
|
swallowed without doing the greatest Violence to common Reason, and
|
|
all the Faculties of the Understanding.
|
|
|
|
We are then necessarily driven into the fourth Supposition,
|
|
That the Deity sometimes interferes by his particular Providence, and
|
|
sets aside the Events which would otherwise have been produc'd in the
|
|
Course of Nature, or by the Free Agency of Men; and this is perfectly
|
|
agreeable with what we can know of his Attributes and Perfections:
|
|
But as some may doubt whether 'tis possible there should be such a
|
|
Thing as free Agency in Creatures; I shall just offer one Short
|
|
Argument on that Account and proceed to shew how the Duties of
|
|
Religion necessary follow the Belief of a Providence. You
|
|
acknowledge that God is infinitely Powerful, Wise and Good, and also
|
|
a free Agent; and you will not deny that he has communicated to us
|
|
part of his Wisdom, Power and Goodness; i.e. he has made us in some
|
|
Degree Wise, potent and good; and is it then impossible for him to
|
|
communicate any Part of his Freedom, and make us also in some Degree
|
|
Free? Is not even his _infinite_ Power sufficient for this? I
|
|
should be glad to hear what Reason any Man can give for thinking in
|
|
that Manner; 'tis sufficient for me to shew tis not impossible, and
|
|
no Man I think can shew 'tis improbable, but much more might be
|
|
offer'd to demonstrate clearly that Men are in some Degree free
|
|
Agents, and accountable for their Actions; however, this I may
|
|
possibly reserve for another separate Discourse hereafter if I find
|
|
Occasion.
|
|
|
|
Lastly If God does not sometimes interfere by his Providence
|
|
tis either because he cannot, or because he will not; which of these
|
|
Positions will you chuse? There is a righteous Nation grievously
|
|
oppress'd by a cruel Tyrant, they earnestly intreat God to deliver
|
|
them; If you say he cannot, you deny his infinite Power, which you at
|
|
first acknowledg'd; if you say he will not, you must directly deny
|
|
his infinite Goodness. You are then of necessity oblig'd to allow,
|
|
that 'tis highly reasonable to believe a Providence because tis
|
|
highly absurd to believe otherwise.
|
|
|
|
Now if tis unreasonable to suppose it out of the Power of the
|
|
Deity to help and favour us particularly or that we are out of his
|
|
Hearing or Notice or that Good Actions do not procure more of his
|
|
Favour than ill Ones. Then I conclude, that believing a Providence
|
|
we have the Foundation of all true Religion; for we should love and
|
|
revere that Deity for his Goodness and thank him for his Benefits; we
|
|
should adore him for his Wisdom, fear him for his Power, and pray to
|
|
him for his Favour and Protection; and this Religion will be a
|
|
Powerful Regulater of our Actions, give us Peace and Tranquility
|
|
within our own Minds, and render us Benevolent, Useful and Beneficial
|
|
to others.
|
|
|
|
1730
|
|
|
|
_Compassion and Regard for the Sick_
|
|
|
|
--------- _Mors sola fatetur
|
|
Quantula sunt hominum corpuscula _ ------ Juv.
|
|
_Post obitum bene facta manent, aeternaq; virtus
|
|
Non metuit Stygiis nec rapiatur aquis._
|
|
|
|
Among all the innumerable Species of Animals which inhabit the
|
|
Air, Earth and Water, so exceedingly different in their Production,
|
|
their Properties, and the Manner of their Existence, and so varied in
|
|
Form, that even of the same Kind it can scarce be said there are two
|
|
Individuals in all Respects alike; it is remarkable there are none,
|
|
within our Observation, distinguish'd from the rest by this
|
|
Particular, _that they are by Nature incapable of DISEASES_. The old
|
|
Poets, how extravagant soever in their Fictions, durst never offend
|
|
so far against Nature and Probability, as even to feign such a Thing;
|
|
and though they made _Achilles_ invulnerable from Head to Foot, and
|
|
clad him beside in impenetrable Armour forg'd by the Immortals, yet
|
|
they were oblig'd to leave one soft Place in his Heel, how small
|
|
soever, for Destruction to enter at. But though every Animal that
|
|
hath Life is liable to Death, Man of all other Creatures has the
|
|
greatest Number of _Diseases_ to his Share; whether they are the
|
|
Effects of our Intemperance and Vice, or are given us that we may
|
|
have a greater Opportunity of exercising towards each other that
|
|
Virtue which most of all recommends us to the Deity, I mean
|
|
_CHARITY._
|
|
|
|
The great Author of our Faith, whose Life should be the
|
|
constant Object of our Imitation, as far as it is not inimitable,
|
|
always shew'd the greatest Compassion and Regard for the _SICK_; he
|
|
disdain'd not to Visit and minister Comfort and Health to the meanest
|
|
of the People, and he frequently inculcated the same Disposition in
|
|
his Doctrine and Precepts to his Disciples. For this one Thing (in
|
|
that beautiful Parable of the Traveller wounded by Thieves) the
|
|
_Samaritan_, (who was esteemed no better than an Heretick or an
|
|
Infidel by the Orthodox of those Times) is prefer'd to the _Priest_
|
|
and the _Levite_; because he did not, like them, pass by regardless
|
|
of the Distress of his Brother Mortal, but when he came to the Place
|
|
where the half-dead Traveller lay, he _had Compassion on him, and
|
|
WENT TO HIM, and bound up his Wounds, pouring in Oyl and Wine, and
|
|
set him on his own Beast, and brought him to an Inn, and TOOK CARE OF
|
|
HIM_. The Rich Man also is represented as being excluded from the
|
|
Happiness of Heaven, because he fared sumptuously every Day, and had
|
|
Plenty of all Things, and yet neglected to comfort and assist his
|
|
poor Neighbour who was helpless and _full of Sores_, and might
|
|
perhaps have been revived and restored with small Care, _with the
|
|
Crums that fell from his Table_. -- _I was SICK and ye VISITED me_,
|
|
is one of the Terms of Admission into Bliss, and the contrary a Cause
|
|
of Exclusion: That is, as our Saviour himself explains it, _Ye have
|
|
visited, or ye have not visited, assisted and comforted those who
|
|
stood in need of it, even tho' they were the least or meanest of
|
|
Mankind._ This Branch of _Charity_ seems essential to the true Spirit
|
|
of Christianity; and it should be extended to all in general, whether
|
|
deserving or undeserving, as far as our Power reaches. Of the ten
|
|
Lepers that were cleansed, nine seem to have been much more unworthy
|
|
than the tenth, yet in respect of their Disease they equally shared
|
|
the Goodness of God. And when the great Physician sent forth his
|
|
Disciples, he always gave them a particular Charge, _that into
|
|
whatsoever City they entred, they should heal_ all _the Sick,_
|
|
without distinction.
|
|
|
|
Now tho' in these Days we cannot work Miracles, and are not all
|
|
Physicians; yet in this time of general Distress by Sickness, there
|
|
are few Persons that have their Health, but what have Opportunity
|
|
enough of exercising that humane and Christian Virtue, which teaches
|
|
a tender Regard for the Afflicted. It is thought by some, that in
|
|
the present Distemper, a greater Number have been heretofore lost for
|
|
want of suitable Care and Attendance, than thro' the natural
|
|
Malignity of the Disease. The Rich have Visitors enough, and Advice
|
|
enough; but perhaps there may be some poor Families, where not only
|
|
those few that are well, have their Health endanger'd by the constant
|
|
Fatigue of Watching Night and Day, but the Sick suffer much for want
|
|
of Friends to offer their Assistance. The good _Samaritan_ gave
|
|
_Money_ to the Host where he had lodg'd his Patient, and said, _TAKE
|
|
CARE OF HIM, and what thou spendest more, I will repay thee._ If our
|
|
Circumstances will not afford This, we may at least be helpful in
|
|
Visiting, Watching, and doing many other kind Things, which the Poor
|
|
have almost as much in their Power as the Wealthy.
|
|
|
|
Now if the Considerations of Religion and Humanity have not the
|
|
Effect they ought to have on the Minds of some, perhaps this
|
|
Observation, which generally holds true, may have its weight with the
|
|
Self-interested, _That there are no Kindnesses done by one Man to
|
|
another, which are remembred so long, and so frequently return'd with
|
|
Gratitude, as those received in Sickness, whether they are only
|
|
present Comforts, or assist in restoring Health_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, March 25, 1731
|
|
|
|
|
|
_English Officials for America_
|
|
|
|
We hear from _North-Carolina_, That Governor _Burrington_ is
|
|
arrived there, accompanied by several Gentlemen, who are to have the
|
|
chief Places of Profit and Trust in that Government.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, May 27, 1731
|
|
|
|
_Apology for Printers_
|
|
|
|
Being frequently censur'd and condemn'd by different Persons
|
|
for printing Things which they say ought not to be printed, I have
|
|
sometimes thought it might be necessary to make a standing Apology
|
|
for my self, and publish it once a Year, to be read upon all
|
|
Occasions of that Nature. Much Business has hitherto hindered the
|
|
execution of this Design; but having very lately given extraordinary
|
|
Offence by printing an Advertisement with a certain _N.B._ at the End
|
|
of it, I find an Apology more particularly requisite at this
|
|
Juncture, tho' it happens when I have not yet Leisure to write such a
|
|
thing in the proper Form, and can only in a loose manner throw those
|
|
Considerations together which should have been the Substance of it.
|
|
|
|
I request all who are angry with me on the Account of printing
|
|
things they don't like, calmly to consider these following
|
|
Particulars
|
|
|
|
1. That the Opinions of Men are almost as various as their
|
|
Faces; an Observation general enough to become a common Proverb, _So
|
|
many Men so many Minds._
|
|
|
|
2. That the Business of Printing has chiefly to do with Mens
|
|
Opinions; most things that are printed tending to promote some, or
|
|
oppose others.
|
|
|
|
3. That hence arises the peculiar Unhappiness of that Business,
|
|
which other Callings are no way liable to; they who follow Printing
|
|
being scarce able to do any thing in their way of getting a Living,
|
|
which shall not probably give Offence to some, and perhaps to many;
|
|
whereas the Smith, the Shoemaker, the Carpenter, or the Man of any
|
|
other Trade, may work indifferently for People of all Persuasions,
|
|
without offending any of them: and the Merchant may buy and sell with
|
|
Jews, Turks, Hereticks, and Infidels of all sorts, and get Money by
|
|
every one of them, without giving Offence to the most orthodox, of
|
|
any sort; or suffering the least Censure or Ill-will on the Account
|
|
from any Man whatever.
|
|
|
|
4. That it is as unreasonable in any one Man or Set of Men to
|
|
expect to be pleas'd with every thing that is printed, as to think
|
|
that nobody ought to be pleas'd but themselves.
|
|
|
|
5. Printers are educated in the Belief, that when Men differ in
|
|
Opinion, both Sides ought equally to have the Advantage of being
|
|
heard by the Publick; and that when Truth and Error have fair Play,
|
|
the former is always an overmatch for the latter: Hence they
|
|
chearfully serve all contending Writers that pay them well, without
|
|
regarding on which side they are of the Question in Dispute.
|
|
|
|
6. Being thus continually employ'd in serving all Parties,
|
|
Printers naturally acquire a vast Unconcernedness as to the right or
|
|
wrong Opinions contain'd in what they print; regarding it only as the
|
|
Matter of their daily labour: They print things full of Spleen and
|
|
Animosity, with the utmost Calmness and Indifference, and without the
|
|
least Ill-will to the Persons reflected on; who nevertheless unjustly
|
|
think the Printer as much their Enemy as the Author, and join both
|
|
together in their Resentment.
|
|
|
|
7. That it is unreasonable to imagine Printers approve of every
|
|
thing they print, and to censure them on any particular thing
|
|
accordingly; since in the way of their Business they print such great
|
|
variety of things opposite and contradictory. It is likewise as
|
|
unreasonable what some assert, _That Printers ought not to print any
|
|
Thing but what they approve;_ since if all of that Business should
|
|
make such a Resolution, and abide by it, an End would thereby be put
|
|
to Free Writing, and the World would afterwards have nothing to read
|
|
but what happen'd to be the Opinions of Printers.
|
|
|
|
8. That if all Printers were determin'd not to print any thing
|
|
till they were sure it would offend no body, there would be very
|
|
little printed.
|
|
|
|
9. That if they sometimes print vicious or silly things not
|
|
worth reading, it may not be because they approve such things
|
|
themselves, but because the People are so viciously and corruptly
|
|
educated that good things are not encouraged. I have known a very
|
|
numerous Impression of _Robin Hood's Songs_ go off in this Province
|
|
at 2_s_. per Book, in less than a Twelvemonth; when a small Quantity
|
|
of _David's Psalms_ (an excellent Version) have lain upon my Hands
|
|
above twice the Time.
|
|
|
|
10. That notwithstanding what might be urg'd in behalf of a
|
|
Man's being allow'd to do in the Way of his Business whatever he is
|
|
paid for, yet Printers do continually discourage the Printing of
|
|
great Numbers of bad things, and stifle them in the Birth. I my self
|
|
have constantly refused to print any thing that might countenance
|
|
Vice, or promote Immorality; tho' by complying in such Cases with the
|
|
corrupt Taste of the Majority, I might have got much Money. I have
|
|
also always refus'd to print such things as might do real Injury to
|
|
any Person, how much soever I have been solicited, and tempted with
|
|
Offers of great Pay; and how much soever I have by refusing got the
|
|
Ill-will of those who would have employ'd me. I have heretofore
|
|
fallen under the Resentment of large Bodies of Men, for refusing
|
|
absolutely to print any of their Party or Personal Reflections. In
|
|
this Manner I have made my self many Enemies, and the constant
|
|
Fatigue of denying is almost insupportable. But the Publick being
|
|
unacquainted with all this, whenever the poor Printer happens either
|
|
through Ignorance or much Persuasion, to do any thing that is
|
|
generally thought worthy of Blame, he meets with no more Friendship
|
|
or Favour on the above Account, than if there were no Merit in't at
|
|
all. Thus, as _Waller_ says,
|
|
|
|
_Poets loose half the Praise they would have got
|
|
Were it but known what they discreetly blot;_
|
|
|
|
Yet are censur'd for every bad Line found in their Works with
|
|
the utmost Severity.
|
|
|
|
I come now to the particular Case of the _N.B._
|
|
above-mention'd, about which there has been more Clamour against me,
|
|
than ever before on any other Account. -- In the Hurry of other
|
|
Business an Advertisement was brought to me to be printed; it
|
|
signified that such a Ship lying at such a Wharff, would sail for
|
|
_Barbadoes_ in such a Time, and that Freighters and Passengers might
|
|
agree with the Captain at such a Place; so far is what's common: But
|
|
at the Bottom this odd Thing was added, N.B. _No Sea Hens nor Black
|
|
Gowns will be admitted on any Terms._ I printed it, and receiv'd my
|
|
Money; and the Advertisement was stuck up round the Town as usual. I
|
|
had not so much Curiosity at that time as to enquire the Meaning of
|
|
it, nor did I in the least imagine it would give so much Offence.
|
|
Several good Men are very angry with me on this Occasion; they are
|
|
pleas'd to say I have too much Sense to do such things ignorantly;
|
|
that if they were Printers they would not have done such a thing on
|
|
any Consideration; that it could proceed from nothing but my abundant
|
|
Malice against Religion and the Clergy: They therefore declare they
|
|
will not take any more of my Papers, nor have any farther Dealings
|
|
with me; but will hinder me of all the Custom they can. All this is
|
|
very hard!
|
|
|
|
I believe it had been better if I had refused to print the said
|
|
Advertisement. However, 'tis done and cannot be revok'd. I have
|
|
only the following few Particulars to offer, some of them in my
|
|
Behalf, by way of Mitigation, and some not much to the Purpose; but I
|
|
desire none of them may be read when the Reader is not in a very good
|
|
Humour.
|
|
|
|
|
|
1. That I really did it without the least Malice, and imagin'd
|
|
the _N.B._ was plac'd there only to make the Advertisement star'd at,
|
|
and more generally read.
|
|
|
|
2. That I never saw the Word _Sea-Hens_ before in my Life; nor
|
|
have I yet ask'd the meaning of it; and tho' I had certainly known
|
|
that _Black Gowns_ in that Place signified the Clergy of the Church
|
|
of _England_, yet I have that confidence in the generous good Temper
|
|
of such of them as I know, as to be well satisfied such a trifling
|
|
mention of their Habit gives them no Disturbance.
|
|
|
|
3. That most of the Clergy in this and the neighbouring
|
|
Provinces, are my Customers, and some of them my very good Friends;
|
|
and I must be very malicious indeed, or very stupid, to print this
|
|
thing for a small Profit, if I had thought it would have given them
|
|
just Cause of Offence.
|
|
|
|
4. That if I have much Malice against the Clergy, and withal
|
|
much Sense; 'tis strange I never write or talk against the Clergy my
|
|
self. Some have observed that 'tis a fruitful Topic, and the easiest
|
|
to be witty upon of all others. I can print any thing I write at
|
|
less Charge than others; yet I appeal to the Publick that I am never
|
|
guilty this way, and to all my Acquaintance as to my Conversation.
|
|
|
|
5. That if a Man of Sense had Malice enough to desire to injure
|
|
the Clergy, this is the foolishest Thing he could possibly contrive
|
|
for that Purpose.
|
|
|
|
6. That I got Five Shillings by it.
|
|
|
|
7. That none who are angry with me would have given me so much
|
|
to let it alone.
|
|
|
|
8. That if all the People of different Opinions in this
|
|
Province would engage to give me as much for not printing things they
|
|
don't like, as I can get by printing them, I should probably live a
|
|
very easy Life; and if all Printers were every where so dealt by,
|
|
there would be very little printed.
|
|
|
|
9. That I am oblig'd to all who take my Paper, and am willing
|
|
to think they do it out of meer Friendship. I only desire they would
|
|
think the same when I deal with them. I thank those who leave off,
|
|
that they have taken it so long. But I beg they would not endeavour
|
|
to dissuade others, for that will look like Malice.
|
|
|
|
|
|
10. That 'tis impossible any Man should know what he would do
|
|
if he was a Printer.
|
|
|
|
11. That notwithstanding the Rashness and Inexperience of
|
|
Youth, which is most likely to be prevail'd with to do things that
|
|
ought not to be done; yet I have avoided printing such Things as
|
|
usually give Offence either to Church or State, more than any Printer
|
|
that has followed the Business in this Province before.
|
|
|
|
12. And lastly, That I have printed above a Thousand
|
|
Advertisements which made not the least mention of _Sea-Hens_ or
|
|
_Black Gowns_; and this being the first Offence, I have the more
|
|
Reason to expect Forgiveness.
|
|
|
|
I take leave to conclude with an old Fable, which some of my
|
|
Readers have heard before, and some have not.
|
|
|
|
"A certain well-meaning Man and his Son, were travelling
|
|
towards a Market Town, with an Ass which they had to sell. The Road
|
|
was bad; and the old Man therefore rid, but the Son went a-foot. The
|
|
first Passenger they met, asked the Father if he was not ashamed to
|
|
ride by himself, and suffer the poor Lad to wade along thro' the
|
|
Mire; this induced him to take up his Son behind him: He had not
|
|
travelled far, when he met others, who said, they were two unmerciful
|
|
Lubbers to get both on the Back of that poor Ass, in such a deep
|
|
Road. Upon this the old Man gets off, and let his Son ride alone.
|
|
The next they met called the Lad a graceless, rascally young
|
|
Jackanapes, to ride in that Manner thro' the Dirt, while his aged
|
|
Father trudged along on Foot; and they said the old Man was a Fool,
|
|
for suffering it. He then bid his Son come down, and walk with him,
|
|
and they travell'd on leading the Ass by the Halter; 'till they met
|
|
another Company, who called them a Couple of sensless Blockheads, for
|
|
going both on Foot in such a dirty Way, when they had an empty Ass
|
|
with them, which they might ride upon. The old Man could bear no
|
|
longer; My Son, said he, it grieves me much that we cannot please all
|
|
these People; Let us throw the Ass over the next Bridge, and be no
|
|
farther troubled with him."
|
|
|
|
Had the old Man been seen acting this last Resolution, he would
|
|
probably have been call'd a Fool for troubling himself about the
|
|
different Opinions of all that were pleas'd to find Fault with him:
|
|
Therefore, tho' I have a Temper almost as complying as his, I intend
|
|
not to imitate him in this last Particular. I consider the Variety
|
|
of Humours among Men, and despair of pleasing every Body; yet I shall
|
|
not therefore leave off Printing. I shall continue my Business. I
|
|
shall not burn my Press and melt my Letters.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 10, 1731
|
|
|
|
|
|
_"A certain St-n-c-tt-r"_
|
|
|
|
Friday Night last, a certain St-n-c-tt-r was, it seems, in a
|
|
fair way of dying the Death of a Nobleman; for being caught Napping
|
|
with another Man's Wife, the injur'd Husband took the Advantage of
|
|
his being so fast asleep, and with a Knife began very diligently to
|
|
cut off his Head. But the Instrument not being equal to the intended
|
|
Operation, much Struggling prevented Success; and he was oblig'd to
|
|
content himself for the present with bestowing on the Aggressor a
|
|
sound Drubbing. The Gap made in the Side of the St-n-c-tt-r's Neck,
|
|
tho' deep, is not thought dangerous; but some People admire, that
|
|
when the Person offended had so fair and suitable an Opportunity, it
|
|
did not enter into his Head to turn St-n-c-tt-r himself.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 17, 1731
|
|
|
|
_The Molasses Bill_
|
|
|
|
By way of Boston there is Advice, That a Bill for prohibiting
|
|
the Importation of Rum, Sugar and Mellasses from the French and Dutch
|
|
Plantations into the Northern Colonies in America, has pass'd both
|
|
Houses of Parliament, pursuant to a Petition from the Island of
|
|
Barbadoes. What Effect this will have, as to raising or falling the
|
|
Prices of those Commodities and of our Flour, &c. is left to the
|
|
Judicious to consider.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 17, 1731
|
|
|
|
_"A certain C-n-table"_
|
|
|
|
Sure some unauspicious cross-grain'd Planet, in Opposition
|
|
to _Venus_, presides over the Affairs of Love about this Time. For
|
|
we hear, that on Tuesday last, a certain C-n-table having made an
|
|
Agreement with a neighbouring Female, to _Watch_ with her that Night;
|
|
she promised to leave a Window open for him to come in at; but he
|
|
going his Rounds in the dark, unluckily mistook the Window, and got
|
|
into a Room where another Woman was in bed, and her Husband it seems
|
|
lying on a Couch not far distant. The good Woman perceiving
|
|
presently by the extraordinary Fondness of her Bedfellow that it
|
|
could not possibly be her Husband, made so much Disturbance as to
|
|
wake the good Man; who finding somebody had got into his Place
|
|
without his Leave, began to lay about him unmercifully; and 'twas
|
|
thought, that had not our poor mistaken Galant, call'd out manfully
|
|
for Help (as if he were commanding Assistance in the King's Name) and
|
|
thereby raised the Family, he would have stood no more Chance for his
|
|
Life between the Wife and Husband, than a captive L ------ between
|
|
two Thumb Nails.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 24, 1731
|
|
|
|
_"George is as good as de best"_
|
|
|
|
We are credibly inform'd, that the young Woman who not long
|
|
since petitioned the Governor, and the Assembly to be divorced from
|
|
her Husband, and at times industriously solicited most of the
|
|
Magistrates on that Account, has at last concluded to cohabit with
|
|
him again. It is said the Report of the Physicians (who in Form
|
|
examined his _Abilities_, and allowed him to be in every respect
|
|
_sufficient_,) gave her but small Satisfaction; Whether any
|
|
Experiments _more satisfactory_ have been try'd, we cannot say; but
|
|
it seems she now declares it as her Opinion, That _George is as good
|
|
as de best_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, July 29, 1731
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Fighting Bucks_
|
|
|
|
We hear from Hopewell in the Jerseys, that on the 4th past, two
|
|
Bucks were observed fighting near the new Meeting House there; one of
|
|
them extraordinary large, supposed to be a Roe-buck; the other small
|
|
and of the common sort. In company with them was a black Doe, who
|
|
stood by to see the Engagement. The small Buck proved a full match
|
|
for the great one, giving him many violent Punches in the Ribs, but
|
|
in the height of the Battle, they fastned their Horns so strongly
|
|
together, that they were not able with all their Strength to
|
|
disengage; and in that condition they were taken. The Doe retreated
|
|
into the Woods, but being pursued with several Beagle Hounds, she was
|
|
taken also alive, and they have put her and the large Buck into a
|
|
boarded Pasture together, in hopes to have a Breed, if the Sizes are
|
|
not too unsuitable. This is the second Brace of Bucks that have been
|
|
caught by the Horns this Fall. _Had they not better put 'em up
|
|
quietly in their Pockets?_
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, October 7, 1731
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Doctrine to be Preached_
|
|
|
|
Doct. to be preached
|
|
|
|
That there is one God Father of the Universe.
|
|
|
|
That he is infinitely good, Powerful and wise.
|
|
|
|
That he is omnipresent.
|
|
|
|
That he ought to be worshipped, by Adoration Prayer and
|
|
Thanksgiving both in publick and private.
|
|
|
|
That he loves such of his Creatures as love and do good to
|
|
others: and will reward them either in this World or hereafter.
|
|
|
|
That Men's Minds do not die with their Bodies, but are made
|
|
more happy or miserable after this Life according to their Actions.
|
|
|
|
That Virtuous Men ought to league together to strengthen the
|
|
Interest of Virtue, in the World: and so strengthen themselves in
|
|
Virtue.
|
|
|
|
|
|
That Knowledge and Learning is to be cultivated, and Ignnorance
|
|
dissipated.
|
|
|
|
That none but the Virtuous are wise.
|
|
|
|
That Man's Perfection is in Virtue.
|
|
|
|
1731
|
|
|
|
_Death of a Lion_
|
|
|
|
_Boston, Jan._ 3. Last Saturday Night, The LYON, King of
|
|
Beasts, who had travelled all over North America by Sea and Land,
|
|
died here in a Tan-yard. Like other Kings, his Death was often
|
|
reported, long before it happened.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, January 25, 1731/2
|
|
|
|
|
|
_A Burnt-Offering_
|
|
|
|
We hear from the Jersey side, that a Man near Sahaukan being
|
|
disordred in his Senses, protested to his Wife that he would kill her
|
|
immediately, if she did not put her Tongue into his Mouth: She
|
|
through Fear complying, he bit off a large Piece of it; and taking it
|
|
between his Fingers threw it into the Fire with these Words, _Let
|
|
this be for a Burnt-Offering_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, February 15, 1731/2
|
|
|
|
_Lost Money_
|
|
|
|
Lost last Saturday Night, in Market Street, about 40 or 50 s.
|
|
if the Finder will bring it to the Printer hereof, who will describe
|
|
the Marks, he shall have 10 s. Reward.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, March 30, 1732
|
|
|
|
_On Simplicity_
|
|
|
|
There is in Humane Nature a certain charming Quality, innate
|
|
and original to it, which is called SIMPLICITY. In latter Ages, this
|
|
has been almost universally exploded, and banished from amongst Men,
|
|
as the Characteristic of Folly; whilst _Cunning_ and _Artifice_ have
|
|
prevailed in its stead, and with equal Justice been dignified with
|
|
the Titles of Wisdom and Understanding. But I believe the juster
|
|
Account of the Matter is, that Simplicity is the homespun Dress of
|
|
Honesty, and Chicanery and Craft are the Tinsel Habits and the false
|
|
Elegance which are worn to cover the Deformity of Vice and Knavery.
|
|
|
|
In the first Ages of the World, when Men had no Wants but what
|
|
were purely natural, before they had refin'd upon their Necessities,
|
|
and Luxury and Ambition had introduced a Thousand fantastick Forms of
|
|
Happiness, Simplicity was the Dress and Language of the World, as
|
|
Nature was its Law. The little Cunning which was then in use, only
|
|
taught them to ensnare, or to make tame such Animals as were
|
|
necessary to their Support or their Convenience, and were otherwise
|
|
too swift or too strong for them; but since these Arts have attain'd
|
|
their utmost Perfection, Men have practised the same low Stratagems
|
|
upon one another, and by an infinite Variety of Disguises and
|
|
well-covered Treacheries, have long since instituted those little
|
|
Basenesses among the necessary Arts and Knowledges of Life, and
|
|
practised without Scruple, that which they have long owned without
|
|
Shame.
|
|
|
|
But if we look into the History of the World, and into the
|
|
Characters of those who have had the greatest Names in it, we shall
|
|
find, that this original Simplicity of Mind has gradually been worn
|
|
off in every Age, down to the present Time, when there is hardly any
|
|
Characters of it remaining undefaced. The old Greeks and Romans,
|
|
whose unperishable Writings have preserved to us the Actions and
|
|
Manners of their Countrymen, and who were so well studied in all the
|
|
Forms and reasonable Happinesses of Life, are so full of that just
|
|
and beautiful Stile and Sentiment, as seems to have been the only
|
|
proper Method of transcribing the frank and open Characters of the
|
|
Heroes they celebrate, and of making them and their Writers immortal.
|
|
|
|
To prove the natural Charm and Beauty there is in this
|
|
Simplicity, we need only, at this Day, as false as the World is
|
|
grown, retire but far enough from great Cities, the Scenes of all
|
|
worldly Business and Action; and, I believe, the most cunning Man
|
|
will be obliged to own, the high and sincere Pleasure there is in
|
|
conversing from the Heart, and without Design. What Relief do we
|
|
find in the simple and unaffected Dialogues of uncorrupted Peasants,
|
|
after the tiresome Grimace of the Town! The veriest Double-Dealer in
|
|
the World is ever hankering after an Opportunity to open his own
|
|
Heart, tho' perhaps he curseshimself after he has done it. We are
|
|
all forward enough to protest and complain against the Falshood and
|
|
Treachery of Mankind, tho' the Remedy be always in our own Power, and
|
|
each is at Liberty to reform himself.
|
|
|
|
But perhaps we need not be forced always to go into the Country
|
|
in search of this amiable Complexion of Mind, Simplicity; for I
|
|
believe it will be found sometimes, that the Men of the truest Genius
|
|
and highest Characters in the Conduct of the World, (as few of them
|
|
as rise in any Age) are observed to possess this Quality in the
|
|
highest Degree. They are Pretenders only, to Policy and Business,
|
|
who have recourse to Cunning, and the little Chicaneries thereof: for
|
|
Cunning is but the Ape of Wisdom, as Sheepishness is of Modesty,
|
|
Impudence of Courage, and Pedantry of Learning. -- Cunning, says my
|
|
Lord _Bacon_, is a sinister or crooked Wisdom, and Dissimulation but
|
|
a faint kind of Policy; for it asks a strong Wit and a strong Heart,
|
|
to know when to tell Truth and to do it; therefore they are the
|
|
weaker sort of Politicians, that are the greatest Dissemblers. And
|
|
certainly there is a great Difference between a cunning Man and a
|
|
wise One, not only in point of Honesty but in point of Ability; as
|
|
there are those that can pack the Cards, who cannot play the Game
|
|
well.
|
|
|
|
Cunning is a Vice purely personal, and is with the greatest
|
|
Difficulty practised in free and mixed Assemblies. A cunning Man is
|
|
obliged to hunt his Game alone, and to live in the dark; he is
|
|
uncapable of Counsel and Advice, for his dishonest Purpose dies upon
|
|
Discovery. A vertuous and an honourable Action only, will bear a
|
|
Conference and Freedom of Debate. And this is the Part of true
|
|
Wisdom, to be busy and assistant in a fair and worthy Design. None
|
|
but Fools are Knaves, for wise Men cannot help being honest. Cunning
|
|
therefore is the Wisdom of a Fool; one who has Designs that he dare
|
|
not own.
|
|
|
|
To draw these loose Thoughts towards an End. If Cunning were
|
|
any real Excellence in Human Nature, how comes it that the greatest
|
|
and ablest, the most amiable and worthy of Mankind, are often
|
|
entirely without it, and vastly above it; while Numbers of the weaker
|
|
Part are observed to be very expert therein; sordid and ignorant
|
|
Servants, and dishonest idle Vagabonds, often attain to the highest
|
|
Perfection in it. Simplicity we are sure is natural, and the highest
|
|
Beauty of Nature; and all that is excellent in Arts which Men have
|
|
invented, is either to demonstrate this native Simplicity and Truth
|
|
in Nature, or to teach us to transcribe and copy in every Thing from
|
|
it. Simplicity of Speech and Manners is the highest Happiness as
|
|
well as the greatest Ornament of Life; whereas nothing is so tiresome
|
|
to one's self, as well as so odious to others, as Disguise and
|
|
Affectation. Who was ever cunning enough to conceal his being so?
|
|
No Mask ever hid it self. In a Word, those cunning Men, tho' they
|
|
are not declared Enemies to the World, yet they are really Spies upon
|
|
it, and ought in the Justice of Things to be considered and treated
|
|
as such, whenever they are caught. And to what purpose is all this
|
|
Craft? To make themselves suspected and avoided by the World in
|
|
return, and to have never a Friend in it. A Knave cannot have a
|
|
Friend, any more than he can be one: An honest Man must discover him,
|
|
a Rascal will betray him. And by this Time I hope my Reader and I
|
|
are agreed, that Wisdom and Vertue are the same Thing, as Knavery and
|
|
Cunning are generally so too; and that for the future, we shall
|
|
resolve to be what we would seem, which is the only sure way not to
|
|
be afraid to seem what we really are.
|
|
|
|
Perhaps it is not necessary to add here, that by Simplicity is
|
|
not at all meant the Pretences to it, which are made now a-days, by
|
|
many good People, who I believe very honestly mistake the Thing, and
|
|
while they aim at Simplicity are guilty of very gross Affectation.
|
|
The Plainness and Integrity of Mind, which is here recommended, is
|
|
very little concerned in any Quaintness of Habit, or Oddness of
|
|
Behaviour: Nor is it at all of Importance to Vertue and Simplicity,
|
|
that great care is taken to appear unfashionable. Again, on the
|
|
other side, I know very well that the Word _Cunning_ did in the
|
|
ancient Sense of it imply Knowledge. The Word Ken may perhaps be
|
|
akin to it; it is of Saxon Original, and we are told the Word King is
|
|
derived from it. I have no Quarrel to this Construction of it; but
|
|
only against (what it now comes to signify) the little Subtilty of
|
|
base Minds, who are incapable of great and honest Actions; in which
|
|
Sense the Word is now commonly used.
|
|
|
|
After all, I am sensible this crooked Wisdom has established
|
|
itself by the Force of an unhappy Fashion, too firmly to be
|
|
immediately exploded; and though I could wish my Reader would be
|
|
ashamed to live in the World by such a wretched Method, yet I would
|
|
warn him to be well aware of those that do; and to be sure to arm
|
|
against them, not with the same Weapons, but those which are of much
|
|
better Proof, the Integrity of a wise Man, and the Wisdom of an
|
|
honest one.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 13, 1732
|
|
|
|
_"To melt the Pewter Button"_
|
|
|
|
From New-York, we hear, that on Saturday se'nnight, in the
|
|
Afternoon, they had there most terrible Thunder and Lightning, but no
|
|
great Damage done. The same Day we had some very hard Claps in these
|
|
Parts; and 'tis said, that in Bucks County, one Flash came so near a
|
|
Lad, as, without hurting him, to melt the Pewter Button off the
|
|
Wasteband of his Breeches. 'Tis well nothing else thereabouts, was
|
|
made of Pewter.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 19, 1732
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Anthony Afterwit_
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Gazetteer_,
|
|
I am an honest Tradesman, who never meant Harm to any Body. My
|
|
Affairs went on smoothly while a Batchelor; but of late I have met
|
|
with some Difficulties, of which I take the Freedom to give you an
|
|
Account.
|
|
|
|
About the Time I first address'd my present Spouse, her Father
|
|
gave out in Speeches, that if she married a Man he liked, he would
|
|
give with her 200 _l_. on the Day of Marriage. 'Tis true he never
|
|
said so to me, but he always receiv'd me very kindly at his House,
|
|
and openly countenanc'd my Courtship. I form'd several fine Schemes,
|
|
what to do with this same 200 _l_. and in some Measure neglected my
|
|
Business on that Account: But unluckily it came to pass, that when
|
|
the old Gentleman saw I was pretty well engag'd, and that the Match
|
|
was too far gone to be easily broke off; he, without any Reason
|
|
given, grew very angry, forbid me the House, and told his Daughter
|
|
that if she married me he would not give her a Farthing. However (as
|
|
he foresaw) we were not to be disappointed in that Manner; but having
|
|
stole a Wedding, I took her home to my House; where we were not in
|
|
quite so poor a Condition as the Couple describ'd in the Scotch Song,
|
|
who had
|
|
|
|
_Neither Pot nor Pan,
|
|
But four bare Legs together;_
|
|
|
|
for I had a House tolerably furnished, for an ordinary Man,
|
|
before. No thanks to Dad, who I understand was very much pleased
|
|
with his politick Management. And I have since learn'd that there
|
|
are old Curmudgeons (_so called_) besides him, who have this Trick,
|
|
to marry their Daughters, and yet keep what they might well spare,
|
|
till they can keep it no longer: But this by way of Digression; _A
|
|
Word to the Wise is enough_.
|
|
|
|
I soon saw that with Care and Industry we might live
|
|
tolerably easy, and in Credit with our Neighbours: But my Wife had a
|
|
strong Inclination to be a _Gentlewoman_. In Consequence of this, my
|
|
old-fashioned Looking-Glass was one Day broke, as she said, _No
|
|
Mortal could tell which way_. However, since we could not be without
|
|
a Glass in the Room, _My Dear_, says she, _we may as well buy a large
|
|
fashionable One that Mr_. Such-a-one _has to sell; it will cost but
|
|
little more than a common Glass, and will be much handsomer and more
|
|
creditable_. Accordingly the Glass was bought, and hung against the
|
|
Wall: But in a Week's time, I was made sensible by little and little,
|
|
_that the Table was by no Means sutable to such a Glass_. And a more
|
|
proper Table being procur'd, my Spouse, who was an excellent
|
|
Contriver, inform'd me where we might have very handsome Chairs _in
|
|
the Way_; And thus, by Degrees, I found all my old Furniture stow'd
|
|
up into the Garret, and every thing below alter'd for the better.
|
|
|
|
Had we stopp'd here, we might have done well enough; but my
|
|
Wife being entertain'd with _Tea_ by the Good Women she visited, we
|
|
could do no less than the like when they visited us; and so we got a
|
|
_Tea-Table_ with all its Appurtenances of _China_ and _Silver_. Then
|
|
my Spouse unfortunately overwork'd herself in washing the House, so
|
|
that we could do no longer without a _Maid_. Besides this, it
|
|
happened frequently, that when I came home at _One_, the Dinner was
|
|
but just put in the Pot; for, _My Dear thought really it had been but
|
|
Eleven:_ At other Times when I came at the same Hour, _She wondered I
|
|
would stay so long, for Dinner was ready and had waited for me these
|
|
two Hours._ These Irregularities, occasioned by mistaking the Time,
|
|
convinced me, that it was absolutely necessary _to buy a Clock_;
|
|
which my Spouse observ'd, _was a great Ornament to the Room!_ And
|
|
lastly, to my Grief, she was frequently troubled with some Ailment or
|
|
other, and nothing did her so much Good as _Riding_; And _these
|
|
Hackney Horses were such wretched ugly Creatures, that_ -- I bought a
|
|
very fine pacing Mare, which cost 20 _l_. And hereabouts Affairs
|
|
have stood for some Months past.
|
|
|
|
I could see all along, that this Way of Living was utterly
|
|
inconsistent with my Circumstances, but had not Resolution enough to
|
|
help it. Till lately, receiving a very severe Dun, which mention'd
|
|
the next Court, I began in earnest to project Relief. Last Monday my
|
|
Dear went over the River, to see a Relation, and stay a Fortnight,
|
|
because _she could not bear the Heat of the Town._ In the Interim, I
|
|
have taken my Turn to make Alterations, _viz_. I have turn'd away
|
|
the Maid, Bag and Baggage (for what should we do with a Maid, who
|
|
have (except my Boy) none but our selves.) I have sold the fine
|
|
Pacing Mare, and bought a good Milch Cow, with 3 _l_. of the Money.
|
|
I have dispos'd of the Tea-Table, and put a Spinning Wheel in its
|
|
Place, which methinks _looks very pretty_: Nine empty Canisters I
|
|
have stuff'd with Flax; and with some of the Money of the
|
|
Tea-Furniture, I have bought a Set of Knitting-Needles; for to tell
|
|
you a Truth, which I would have go no farther, _I begin to want
|
|
Stockings_. The stately Clock I have transform'd into an Hour-Glass,
|
|
by which I gain'd a good round Sum; and one of the Pieces of the old
|
|
Looking-Glass, squar'd and fram'd, supplies the Place of the Great
|
|
One, which I have convey'd into a Closet, where it may possibly
|
|
remain some years. In short, the Face of Things is quite changed;
|
|
and I am mightily pleased when I look at my Hour-Glass, _what an
|
|
Ornament it is to the Room_. I have paid my Debts, and find Money in
|
|
my Pocket. I expect my Dame home next Friday, and as your Paper is
|
|
taken in at the House where she is, I hope the Reading of this will
|
|
prepare her Mind for the above surprizing Revolutions. If she can
|
|
conform to this new Scheme of Living, we shall be the happiest Couple
|
|
perhaps in the Province, and, by the Blessing of God, may soon be in
|
|
thriving Circumstances. I have reserv'd the great Glass, because I
|
|
know her Heart is set upon it. I will allow her when she comes in,
|
|
to be taken suddenly ill with the _Headach_, the _Stomach-ach_,
|
|
_Fainting-Fits_, or whatever other Disorder she may think more
|
|
proper; and she may retire to Bed as soon as she pleases: But if I do
|
|
not find her in perfect Health both of Body and Mind the next
|
|
Morning, away goes the aforesaid Great Glass, with several other
|
|
Trinkets I have no Occasion for, to the Vendue that very Day. Which
|
|
is the irrevocable Resolution of, Sir,
|
|
Her loving Husband, _and_
|
|
Your very humble Servant,
|
|
_ANTHONY AFTERWIT_.
|
|
|
|
_Postscript,_ You know we can return to our former Way of
|
|
Living, when we please, if _Dad_ will be at the Expence of it.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, July 10, 1732
|
|
|
|
_Celia Single_
|
|
|
|
_My Correspondent Mrs._ Celia, _must excuse my omitting those
|
|
Circumstances of her Letter, which point at People_ too plainly; _and
|
|
content herself that I insert the rest as follows._
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Gazetteer_,
|
|
I must needs tell you, that some of the Things you print do
|
|
more Harm than Good; particularly I think so of my Neighbour the
|
|
Tradesman's Letter in one of your late Papers, which has broken the
|
|
Peace of several Families, by causing Difference between Men and
|
|
their Wives: I shall give you here one Instance, of which I was an
|
|
Eye and Ear Witness.
|
|
|
|
Happening last _Wednesday_ Morning to be in at Mrs. _C ------
|
|
ss_'s, when her Husband return'd from Market, among other Things
|
|
which he had bought, he show'd her some Balls of Thread. _My Dear,_
|
|
says he, _I like mightily those Stockings which I yesterday saw
|
|
Neighbour_ Afterwit _knitting for her Husband, of Thread of her own
|
|
Spinning: I should be glad to have some such Stockins my self: I
|
|
understand that your Maid_ Mary _is a very good Knitter, and seeing
|
|
this Thread in Market, I have bought it, that the Girl may make a
|
|
Pair or two for me._ Mrs. _Careless_ was just then at the Glass,
|
|
dressing her Head; and turning about with the Pins in her Mouth,
|
|
_Lord, Child_, says she, _are you crazy? What Time has_ Mary _to
|
|
knit? Who must do the Work, I wonder, if you set her to Knitting?_
|
|
Perhaps, my Dear, _says he_, you have a mind to knit 'em yourself; I
|
|
remember, when I courted you, I once heard you say you had learn'd to
|
|
knit of your Mother. _I knit Stockins for you,_ says she, _not I
|
|
truly; There are poor Women enough in Town, that can knit; if you
|
|
please you may employ them._ Well, but my Dear, _says he_, you know a
|
|
penny sav'd is a penny got, a pin a day is a groat a year, every
|
|
little makes a mickle, and there is neither Sin nor Shame in Knitting
|
|
a pair of Stockins; why should you express such a mighty Aversion to
|
|
it? As to _poor_ Women, you know we are not People of Quality, we
|
|
have no Income to maintain us, but what arises from my Labour and
|
|
Industry; methinks you should not be at all displeas'd, if you have
|
|
an Opportunity to get something as well as my self. _I wonder,_ says
|
|
she, _how you can propose such a thing to me; did not you always tell
|
|
me you would maintain me like a Gentlewoman? If I had married_ Capt.
|
|
------ , _he would have scorn'd even to mention Knitting of
|
|
Stockins._ Prithee, _says he_, _(a little nettled)_ what do you tell
|
|
me of your Captains? If you could have had him, I suppose you would;
|
|
or perhaps you did not very well like him: If I did promise to
|
|
maintain you like a Gentlewoman, I suppose 'tis time enough for that
|
|
when you know how to behave like one; mean while 'tis your Duty to
|
|
help make me able. How long d'ye think I can maintain you at your
|
|
present Rate of Living? _Pray_, says she, (somewhat fiercely, and
|
|
dashing the Puff into the Powder-Box) _don't use me after this
|
|
Manner, for I assure you I won't bear it. This is the Fruit of your
|
|
poison_ News-papers; _there shall come no more here, I promise you._
|
|
Bless us, _says he_, what an unaccountable thing is this! Must a
|
|
Tradesman's Daughter, and the Wife of a Tradesman, necessarily and
|
|
instantly be a Gentlewoman? You had no Portion; I am forc'd to work
|
|
for a Living; if you are too great to do the like, there's the Door,
|
|
go and live upon your Estate, if you can find it; in short, I don't
|
|
desire to be troubled w'ye. -- What Answer she made, I cannot tell;
|
|
for knowing that a Man and his Wife are apt to quarrel more violently
|
|
when before Strangers, than when by themselves, I got up and went out
|
|
hastily: But I understood from _Mary_, who came to me of an Errand in
|
|
the Evening, that they dined together pretty peaceably, (the Balls of
|
|
Thread that had caused the Difference, being thrown into the Kitchen
|
|
Fire) of which I was very glad to hear.
|
|
|
|
I have several times in your Paper seen severe Reflections upon
|
|
us Women, for Idleness and Extravagance, but I do not remember to
|
|
have once seen any such Animadversions upon the Men. If I were
|
|
dispos'd to be censorious, I could furnish you with Instances enough:
|
|
I might mention Mr. _Billiard_, who spends more than he earns, at the
|
|
Green Table; and would have been in Jail long since, were it not for
|
|
his industrious Wife: Mr. _Husselcap_, who often all day long leaves
|
|
his Business for the rattling of Halfpence in a certain Alley: Mr.
|
|
_Finikin_, who has seven different Suits of fine Cloaths, and wears a
|
|
Change every Day, while his Wife and Children sit at home half naked:
|
|
Mr. _Crownhim_, who is always dreaming over the Chequer-board, and
|
|
cares not how the World goes, so he gets the Game: Mr. _T'otherpot_
|
|
the Tavern-haunter; Mr. _Bookish_, the everlasting Reader; Mr.
|
|
_Tweedledum_, Mr. _Toot-a-toot_, and several others, who are mighty
|
|
diligent at any thing beside their Business. I say, if I were
|
|
dispos'd to be censorious, I might mention all these, and more; but I
|
|
hate to be thought a Scandalizer of my Neighbours, and therefore
|
|
forbear. And for your part, I would advise you, for the future, to
|
|
entertain your Readers with something else besides People's
|
|
Reflections upon one another; for remember, that there are Holes
|
|
enough to be pick'd in your Coat as well as others; and those that
|
|
are affronted by the Satyrs you may publish, will not consider so
|
|
much who _wrote_, as who _printed_: Take not this Freedom amiss, from
|
|
_Your Friend and Reader_,
|
|
CELIA SINGLE.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, July 24, 1732
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Praise for William Penn_
|
|
|
|
_Philadelphia, August_ 12. Yesterday Afternoon, our Governor
|
|
having received by Express the agreeable News of the Arrival of the
|
|
Honourable _THOMAS PENN_, Esq; our Proprietary, at _Chester_,
|
|
immediately dispatch'd his Secretary thither with his Compliments of
|
|
Congratulation; and next Morning, attended by the Council, and many
|
|
other Gentlemen, His Honour our Governor set out for _Chester_, where
|
|
great Numbers of People from the neighbouring Parts of the Country
|
|
were flocking together. After Dinner, our Honourable Proprietor,
|
|
with his Company which was now grown very numerous, set out for
|
|
_Philadelphia_, and passing the Ferry at _Skuylkill_, was met by the
|
|
Mayor, Recorder and Aldermen of this City, in whose Name _Andrew
|
|
Hamilton_, Esq; the Recorder, made the following congratulatory
|
|
Speech.
|
|
|
|
May it please our Honourable Proprietor,
|
|
_The Mayor and Commonalty of the city of_ Philadelphia, _do
|
|
most joyfully congratulate You, on your safe Arrival into your
|
|
Province of_ Pennsylvania.
|
|
|
|
_You are now entring into the Liberties of the City of_
|
|
Philadelphia, _the Capital of your Province, where You have been long
|
|
and impatiently expected: Be pleased, Sir, to accept from this
|
|
Corporation, the Acknowledgements due to a Son of its Honourable
|
|
Founder._
|
|
|
|
_That generous Charter which he gave this City, those wise and
|
|
just Laws which he gave to the People of_ Pennsylvania, _and above
|
|
all his religious Care in securing to all its Inhabitants that
|
|
natural Right_ Liberty of Conscience, _and Freedom from_ Spiritual
|
|
Tyranny, _will ever continue a Testimony of his great Wisdom and
|
|
Goodness, in framing a Constitution every way fitted to make a happy
|
|
People, and be a lasting Monument of his Benevolence to Mankind._
|
|
|
|
_But he is gone!_ -- _and to whom can we so properly own these
|
|
Obligations, as to the Descendants of that good Man, under whom, next
|
|
to our gracious Sovereign, the Inhabitants of_ Philadelphia _derive
|
|
and enjoy so many valuable Privileges._
|
|
|
|
_We are indeed strongly prejudiced in favour of a_ Son _of the
|
|
great Mr. PENN; We know you have the same Powers of Government, and
|
|
if You shall imitate his excellent Example, in using them for the
|
|
Good of the People, as that made his Memory dear to all who lived
|
|
under his Influence, so this will give you a peculiar Claim to Our
|
|
Duty and Affections, and lay the Citizens of_ Philadelphia _under the
|
|
strongest Obligations of doing you the most acceptable Services in
|
|
their Power._
|
|
|
|
To which our Honourable Proprietor gave the following Answer.
|
|
|
|
"I am oblig'd to the City of _Philadelphia_, for this Mark of
|
|
their Affection to me, and Regard for the Memory of my Father; and
|
|
shall be pleased with every Opportunity of doing your Corporation any
|
|
agreeable Service."
|
|
|
|
The _Proprietor_ then proceeding forwards, was welcomed to this
|
|
City with the Discharge of many Guns from the Ships in our River, and
|
|
the joyful Acclamations of a Multitude of People, who lined all the
|
|
Streets through which the Cavalcade (consisting of between Seven and
|
|
Eight Hundred Horse) passed; and alighting at our Governour's House,
|
|
was saluted with the Discharge of a large Battery of Cannon on
|
|
_Society_ _Hill._ The universal Joy and Satisfaction which appeared
|
|
on this Occasion, seems a just Tribute to a worthy Son of the Great
|
|
and Good Mr. _PENN_, whose Memory must ever remain dear to all those
|
|
who set a just Value on the ample Privileges and Liberties granted by
|
|
him, and at this Time fully enjoyed by all the Inhabitants of this
|
|
flourishing Colony.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, August 14, 1732
|
|
|
|
|
|
_On Censure or Backbiting_
|
|
|
|
_Impia sub dulci melle venena latent_. Ovid.
|
|
_Naturam expellas furca licet, usq; recurret_. Hor.
|
|
|
|
There is scarce any one Thing so generally spoke against, and
|
|
at the same time so universally practis'd, as _Censure_ or
|
|
_Backbiting_. All Divines have condemn'd it, all Religions have
|
|
forbid it, all Writers of Morality have endeavour'd to discountenance
|
|
it, and all Men hate it at all Times, except only when they have
|
|
Occasion to make use of it. For my part, after having frankly
|
|
declar'd it as my Opinion, that the general Condemnation it meets
|
|
with, proceeds only from a Consciousness in most People that they
|
|
have highly incurr'd and deserv'd it, I shall in a very fearless
|
|
impudent Manner take upon me to oppose the universal Vogue of Mankind
|
|
in all Ages, and say as much in Behalf and Vindication of this
|
|
decry'd Virtue, as the usual Vacancy in your Paper will admit.
|
|
|
|
I have call'd it a Virtue, and shall take the same Method to
|
|
prove it such, as we commonly use to demonstrate any other Action or
|
|
Habit to be a Virtue, that is, by shewing its Usefulness, and the
|
|
great Good it does to Society. What can be said to the contrary, has
|
|
already been said by every body; and indeed it is so little to the
|
|
purpose, that any body may easily say it: But the Path I mean to
|
|
tread, has hitherto been trod by no body; if therefore I should meet
|
|
with the Difficulties usual in tracing new Roads, and be in some
|
|
Places a little at loss, the Candour of the Reader will the more
|
|
readily excuse me.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The first Advantage I shall mention, arising from the free
|
|
Practice of _Censure_ or _Backbiting_, is, that it is frequently the
|
|
Means of preventing powerful, politick, ill-designing Men, from
|
|
growing too popular for the Safety of a State. Such Men are always
|
|
setting their best Actions to view, in order to obtain Confidence and
|
|
Trust, and establish a Party: They endeavour to shine with false or
|
|
borrow'd Merit, and carefully conceal their real Demerit: (that they
|
|
fear to be evil spoken of is evident from their striving to cover
|
|
every Ill with a specious Pretence;) But all-examining CENSURE, with
|
|
her hundred Eyes and her thousand Tongues, soon discovers and as
|
|
speedily divulges in all Quarters, every the least Crime or Foible
|
|
that is a part of their true Character. This clips the Wings of
|
|
their Ambition, weakens their Cause and Party, and reduces them to
|
|
the necessity of dropping their pernicious Designs, springing from a
|
|
violent Thirst of Honour and Power; or, if that Thirst is
|
|
unquenchable, they are oblig'd to enter into a Course of true Virtue,
|
|
without which real Grandeur is not to be attained.
|
|
|
|
Again, the common Practice of _Censure_ is a mighty Restraint
|
|
upon the Actions of every private Man; it greatly assists our
|
|
otherwise weak Resolutions of living virtuously. _What will the
|
|
World say of me, if I act thus?_ is often a Reflection strong enough
|
|
to enable us to resist the most powerful Temptation to Vice or Folly.
|
|
This preserves the Integrity of the Wavering, the Honesty of the
|
|
Covetous, the Sanctity of some of the Religious, and the Chastity of
|
|
all Virgins. And, indeed, when People once become regardless of
|
|
_Censure_, they are arrived to a Pitch of Impudence little inferior
|
|
to the Contempt of all Laws humane and divine.
|
|
|
|
The common Practice of _Censure_ is also exceedingly
|
|
serviceable, in helping a Man to _the Knowledge of himself_; a piece
|
|
of Knowledge highly necessary for all, but acquired by very few,
|
|
because very few sufficiently regard and value the Censure past by
|
|
others on their Actions. There is hardly such a Thing as a Friend,
|
|
sincere or rash enough to acquaint us freely with our Faults; nor
|
|
will any but an Enemy tell us of what we have done amiss, _to our
|
|
Faces_; and Enemies meet with little Credit in such Cases, for we
|
|
believe they speak from Malice and Ill-will: Thus we might always
|
|
live in the blindest Ignorance of our own Folly, and, while every
|
|
body reproach'd us in their Hearts, might think our Conduct
|
|
irreproachable: But Thanks be to Providence, (that has given every
|
|
Man a natural Inclination to backbite his Neighbour) we now hear of
|
|
many Things said _of_ us, that we shall never hear said _to_ us; (for
|
|
out of Goodwill to us, or Illwill to those that have spoken ill of
|
|
us, every one is willing enough to tell us how we are censur'd by
|
|
others,) and we have the Advantage of mending our Manners
|
|
accordingly.
|
|
|
|
Another vast Benefit arising from the common Practice of
|
|
_Backbiting_, is, that it helps exceedingly to a thorough _Knowledge
|
|
of Mankind_, a Science the most useful of all Sciences. Could we
|
|
come to know no Man of whom we had not a particular Experience, our
|
|
Sphere of Knowledge of this Sort would certainly be narrow and
|
|
confined, and yet at the same Time must probably have cost us very
|
|
dear. For the crafty tricking Villain would have a vast Advantage
|
|
over the honest undesigning Part of Men, when he might cheat and
|
|
abuse almost every one he dealt with, if none would take the Liberty
|
|
to characterize him among their Acquaintance behind his Back.
|
|
|
|
Without saying any more in its Behalf, I am able to challenge
|
|
all the Orators or Writers in the World, to show (with solid Reason)
|
|
that the few trifling Inconveniencies attending it, bear any
|
|
Proportion to these vast Benefits! And I will venture to assert to
|
|
their Noses, that nothing would be more absurd or pernicious than a
|
|
Law against Backbiting, if such a Law could possibly take Effect;
|
|
since it would undoubtedly be the greatest Encouragement to Vice that
|
|
ever Vice met with, and do more towards the encreasing it, than would
|
|
the Abolishing of all other Laws whatsoever.
|
|
|
|
I might likewise have mentioned the Usefulness of _Censure_ in
|
|
Society, as it is a certain and an equal Punishment for such Follies
|
|
and Vices as the common Laws either do not sufficiently punish, or
|
|
have provided no Punishment for. I might have observed, that were it
|
|
not for this, we should find the Number of some Sorts of Criminals
|
|
increased to a Degree sufficient not only to infest, but even to
|
|
overthrow all good and civil Conversation: But it is endless to
|
|
enumerate every particular Advantage arising from this glorious
|
|
Virtue! A Virtue, which whoever exerts, must have the largest Share
|
|
of Publick Spirit and Self-denial, the highest Benevolence and Regard
|
|
to the Good of others; since in This he entirely sacrifices his own
|
|
Interest, making not only the Persons he accuses, but all that hear
|
|
him, his Enemies; for all that deserve Censure (which are by far the
|
|
greatest Number) hate the Censorious;
|
|
|
|
_That dangerous Weapon, Wit,
|
|
Frightens a Million when a few you hit:
|
|
Whip but a Cur as you ride thro' a Town,
|
|
And strait his Fellow Curs the Quarrel own:
|
|
Each Knave or Fool that's conscious of a Crime,
|
|
Tho' he scapes now, looks for't another time._
|
|
|
|
A Virtue! decry'd by all that fear it, but a strong Presumption
|
|
of the Innocence of them that practise it; for they cannot be
|
|
encouraged to offend, from the least Prospect of Favour or Impunity;
|
|
their Faults or Failings will certainly meet with no Quarter from
|
|
others. And whoever practises the Contrary, always endeavouring to
|
|
excuse and palliate the Crimes of others, may rationally be suspected
|
|
to have some secret darling Vice, which he hopes will be excused him
|
|
in return. A Virtue! which however ill People may load it with the
|
|
opprobrious Names of _Calumny_, _Scandal_, and _Detraction_, and I
|
|
know not what; will still remain a Virtue, a bright, shining, solid
|
|
Virtue, of more real Use to Mankind than all the other Virtues put
|
|
together; and indeed, is the Mother or the Protectress of them all,
|
|
as well as the Enemy, the Destructress of all kinds of Vice. A
|
|
Virtue, innately, necessarily, and essentially so; for ------ But,
|
|
dear Reader, large Folio Volumes closely written, would scarce be
|
|
sufficient to contain all the Praises due to it. I shall offer you
|
|
at present only one more convincing Argument in its Behalf, _viz_.
|
|
that you would not have had the Satisfaction of seeing this Discourse
|
|
so agreeably short as I shall make it, were it not for the just Fear
|
|
I have of incurring your _Censure_, should I continue to be
|
|
troublesome by extending it to a greater Length.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, September 7, 1732
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Alice Addertongue_
|
|
|
|
_Mr. Gazetteer,_
|
|
I was highly pleased with your last Week's Paper upon SCANDAL,
|
|
as the uncommon Doctrine therein preach'd is agreeable both to my
|
|
Principles and Practice, and as it was published very seasonably to
|
|
reprove the Impertinence of a Writer in the foregoing Thursdays
|
|
_Mercury_, who at the Conclusion of one of his silly Paragraphs,
|
|
laments, forsooth, that the _Fair Sex_ are so peculiarly guilty of
|
|
this enormous Crime: Every Blockhead ancient and modern, that could
|
|
handle a Pen, has I think taken upon him to cant in the same
|
|
senseless Strain. If to _scandalize_ be really a _Crime_, what do
|
|
these Puppies mean? They describe it, they dress it up in the most
|
|
odious frightful and detestable Colours, they represent it as the
|
|
worst of Crimes, and then roundly and charitably charge the whole
|
|
Race of Womankind with it. Are they not then guilty of what they
|
|
condemn, at the same time that they condemn it? If they accuse us of
|
|
any other Crime, they must necessarily _scandalize_ while they do it:
|
|
But to _scandalize_ us with being guilty of _Scandal_, is in itself
|
|
an egregious Absurdity, and can proceed from nothing but the most
|
|
consummate Impudence in Conjunction with the most profound Stupidity.
|
|
|
|
This, supposing, as they do, that to scandalize is a Crime;
|
|
which you have convinc'd all reasonable People, is an Opinion
|
|
absolutely erroneous. Let us leave then these Ideot Mock-Moralists,
|
|
while I entertain you with some Account of my Life and Manners.
|
|
|
|
I am a young Girl of about thirty-five, and live at present
|
|
with my Mother. I have no Care upon my Head of getting a Living, and
|
|
therefore find it my Duty as well as Inclination, to exercise my
|
|
Talent at _CENSURE_, for the Good of my Country folks. There was, I
|
|
am told, a certain generous Emperor, who if a Day had passed over his
|
|
Head, in which he had conferred no Benefit on any Man, used to say to
|
|
his Friends, in Latin, _Diem perdidi_, that is, it seems, _I have
|
|
lost a Day_. I believe I should make use of the same Expression, if
|
|
it were possible for a Day to pass in which I had not, or miss'd, an
|
|
Opportunity to scandalize somebody: But, Thanks be praised, no such
|
|
Misfortune has befel me these dozen Years.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Yet, whatever Good I may do, I cannot pretend that I first
|
|
entred into the Practice of this Virtue from a Principle of Publick
|
|
Spirit; for I remember that when a Child, I had a violent Inclination
|
|
to be ever talking in my own Praise, and being continually told that
|
|
it was ill Manners, and once severely whipt for it, the confin'd
|
|
Stream form'd itself a new Channel, and I began to speak for the
|
|
future in the Dispraise of others. This I found more agreable to
|
|
Company, and almost as much so to my self: For what great Difference
|
|
can there be, between putting your self up, or putting your Neighbour
|
|
down? _Scandal_, like other Virtues, is in part its own Reward, as
|
|
it gives us the Satisfaction of making our selves appear better than
|
|
others, or others no better than ourselves.
|
|
|
|
My Mother, good Woman, and I, have heretofore differ'd upon
|
|
this Account. She argu'd that Scandal spoilt all good Conversation,
|
|
and I insisted that without it there could be no such Thing. Our
|
|
Disputes once rose so high, that we parted Tea-Table, and I concluded
|
|
to entertain my Acquaintance in the Kitchin. The first Day of this
|
|
Separation we both drank Tea at the same Time, but she with her
|
|
Visitors in the Parlor. She would not hear of the least Objection to
|
|
any one's Character, but began a new sort of Discourse in some such
|
|
queer philosophical Manner as this; _I am mightily pleas'd
|
|
sometimes,_ says she, _when I observe and consider that the World is
|
|
not so bad as People out of humour imagine it to be. There is
|
|
something amiable, some good Quality or other in every body. If we
|
|
were only to speak of People that are least respected, there is_ such
|
|
a one _is very dutiful to her Father, and methinks has a fine Set of
|
|
Teeth;_ such a one _is very respectful to her Husband;_ such a one
|
|
_is very kind to her poor Neighbours, and besides has a very handsome
|
|
Shape;_ such a one _is always ready to serve a Friend, and in my
|
|
Opinion there is not a Woman in Town that has a more agreeable Air
|
|
and Gait._ This fine kind of Talk, which lasted near half an Hour,
|
|
she concluded by saying, _I do not doubt but every one of you have
|
|
made the like Observations, and I should be glad to have the
|
|
Conversation continu'd upon this Subject._ Just at that Juncture I
|
|
peep'd in at the Door, and never in my Life before saw such a Set of
|
|
simple vacant Countenances; they looked somehow neither glad, nor
|
|
sorry, nor angry, nor pleas'd, nor indifferent, nor attentive; but,
|
|
(excuse the Simile) like so many blue wooden Images of Rie Doe. I in
|
|
the Kitchin had already begun a ridiculous Story of Mr. ------ 's
|
|
Intrigue with his Maid, and his Wife's Behaviour upon the Discovery;
|
|
at some Passages we laugh'd heartily, and one of the gravest of
|
|
Mama's Company, without making any Answer to her Discourse, got up
|
|
_to go and see what the Girls were so merry about:_ She was follow'd
|
|
by a Second, and shortly after by a Third, till at last the old
|
|
Gentlewoman found herself quite alone, and being convinc'd that her
|
|
Project was impracticable, came her self and finish'd her Tea with
|
|
us; ever since which _Saul also has been among the Prophets_, and our
|
|
Disputes lie dormant.
|
|
|
|
By Industry and Application, I have made my self the Center of
|
|
all the _Scandal_ in the Province, there is little stirring but I
|
|
hear of it. I began the World with this Maxim, _That no Trade can
|
|
subsist without Returns_; and accordingly, whenever I receiv'd a good
|
|
Story, I endeavour'd to give two or a better in the Room of it. My
|
|
Punctuality in this Way of Dealing gave such Encouragement, that it
|
|
has procur'd me an incredible deal of Business, which without
|
|
Diligence and good Method it would be impossible for me to go
|
|
through. For besides the Stock of Defamation thus naturally flowing
|
|
in upon me, I practice an Art by which I can pump Scandal out of
|
|
People that are the least enclin'd that way. Shall I discover my
|
|
Secret? Yes; to let it die with me would be inhuman. -- If I have
|
|
never heard Ill of some Person, I always impute it to defective
|
|
Intelligence; _for there are none without their Faults, no not one._
|
|
If she is a Woman, I take the first Opportunity to let all her
|
|
Acquaintance know I have heard that one of the handsomest or best Men
|
|
in Town has said something in Praise either of her Beauty, her Wit,
|
|
her Virtue, or her good Management. If you know any thing of Humane
|
|
Nature, you perceive that this naturally introduces a Conversation
|
|
turning upon all her Failings, past, present, and to come. To the
|
|
same purpose, and with the same Success, I cause every Man of
|
|
Reputation to be praised before his Competitors in Love, Business, or
|
|
Esteem on Account of any particular Qualification. Near the Times of
|
|
_Election_, if I find it necessary, I commend every Candidate before
|
|
some of the opposite Party, listning attentively to what is said of
|
|
him in answer: (But Commendations in this latter Case are not always
|
|
necessary, and should be used judiciously;) of late Years I needed
|
|
only observe what they said of one another freely; and having for the
|
|
Help of Memory taken Account of all Information & Accusations
|
|
received, whoever peruses my Writings after my Death, may happen to
|
|
think, that during a certain Term, the People of _Pennsylvania_ chose
|
|
into all their Offices of Honour and Trust, the veriest Knaves, Fools
|
|
and Rascals in the whole Province. The Time of Election used to be a
|
|
busy Time with me, but this Year, with Concern I speak it, People are
|
|
grown so good natur'd, so intent upon mutual Feasting and friendly
|
|
Entertainment, that I see no Prospect of much Employment from that
|
|
Quarter.
|
|
|
|
I mention'd above, that without good Method I could not go
|
|
thro' my Business: In my Father's Life-time I had some Instruction in
|
|
Accompts, which I now apply with Advantage to my own Affairs. I keep
|
|
a regular Set of Books, and can tell at an Hour's Warning how it
|
|
stands between me and the World. In my _Daybook_ I enter every
|
|
Article of Defamation as it is transacted; for Scandals _receiv'd
|
|
in_, I give Credit; and when I pay them out again, I make the Persons
|
|
to whom they respectively relate _Debtor_. In my _Journal_, I add to
|
|
each Story by Way of Improvement, such probable Circumstances as I
|
|
think it will bear, and in my _Ledger_ the whole is regularly posted.
|
|
|
|
I suppose the Reader already condemns me in his Heart, for this
|
|
particular of _adding Circumstances_; but I justify that part of my
|
|
Practice thus. 'Tis a Principle with me, that none ought to have a
|
|
greater Share of Reputation than they really deserve; if they have,
|
|
'tis an Imposition upon the Publick: I know it is every one's
|
|
Interest, and therefore believe they endeavour, to conceal _all_
|
|
their Vices and Follies; and I hold, that those People are
|
|
_extraordinary_ foolish or careless who suffer a _Fourth_ of their
|
|
Failings to come to publick Knowledge: Taking then the common
|
|
Prudence and Imprudence of Mankind in a Lump, I suppose none suffer
|
|
above _one Fifth_ to be discovered: Therefore when I hear of any
|
|
Person's Misdoing, I think I keep within Bounds if in relating it I
|
|
only make it _three times_ worse than it is; and I reserve to my self
|
|
the Privilege of charging them with one Fault in four, which, for
|
|
aught I know, they may be entirely innocent of. You see there are
|
|
but few so careful of doing Justice as my self; what Reason then have
|
|
Mankind to complain of _Scandal_? In a general way, the worst that
|
|
is said of us is only half what _might_ be said, if all our Faults
|
|
were seen.
|
|
|
|
But alas, two great Evils have lately befaln me at the same
|
|
time; an extream Cold that I can scarce speak, and a most terrible
|
|
Toothach that I dare hardly open my Mouth: For some Days past I have
|
|
receiv'd ten Stories for one I have paid; and I am not able to
|
|
ballance my Accounts without your Assistance. I have long thought
|
|
that if you would make your Paper a Vehicle of Scandal, you would
|
|
double the Number of your Subscribers. I send you herewith Account
|
|
of 4 _Knavish Tricks_, 2 _crackt M--n--ds_, 5 _Cu--ld--ms_, 3 _drub'd
|
|
Wives_, and 4 _Henpeck'd Husbands_, all within this Fortnight; which
|
|
you may, as Articles of News, deliver to the Publick; and if my
|
|
Toothach continues, shall send you more; being, in the mean time,
|
|
_Your constant Reader,_
|
|
ALICE ADDERTONGUE.
|
|
|
|
_I thank my Correspondent Mrs._ Addetiongue _for her Good-Will;
|
|
but desire to be excus'd inserting the Articles of News she has sent
|
|
me; such Things being in Reality_ no News at all.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, September 12, 1732
|
|
|
|
_Men are Naturally Benevolent as Well as Selfish_
|
|
|
|
_To the Printer of the_ GAZETTE.
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
It is the Opinion of some People, that Man is a Creature
|
|
altogether selfish, and that all our Actions have at Bottom a View to
|
|
private Interest; If we do good to others, it is, say they, because
|
|
there is a certain Pleasure attending virtuous Actions. But how
|
|
Pleasure comes to attend a virtuous Action, these Philosophers are
|
|
puzzled to shew, without contradicting their first Principles, and
|
|
acknowledging that Men are _naturally_ benevolent as well as selfish.
|
|
For whence can arise the Pleasure you feel after having done a
|
|
good-natured Thing, if not hence, that you had _before_ strong humane
|
|
and kind Inclinations in your Nature, which are by such Actions in
|
|
some Measure gratified?
|
|
|
|
I am told that a late ingenious Author, enquiring why we
|
|
approve and disapprove of Actions done many Ages since, which can no
|
|
way be suppos'd to affect our present Interest, conceives that we
|
|
have a certain internal _Moral Sense_, which tastes the Beauty of a
|
|
rational benevolent Action, and the Deformity of an ill-natured cruel
|
|
one; and that our consequent Judgment is as involuntary as when the
|
|
Tongue is apply'd to Aloes, and we can by no Act of the Will prevail
|
|
with the Mind to acknowledge it tastes like Honey. However this be,
|
|
the Fact is certain, that we do approve and disapprove of Actions
|
|
which cannot in the least influence our present Affairs. How could
|
|
this happen, if we did not in contemplating such Actions, find
|
|
something agreeable or disagreeable to our natural Inclinations as
|
|
Men, that is, to our benevolent Inclinations?
|
|
|
|
Let this serve as an Introduction to a short Story, which I
|
|
have translated from the French, for the Pleasure of your Readers,
|
|
who will therein find wherewith to exercise their _moral Sense_ of
|
|
Tasting, if such a Sense they have. The Writer delivers it as a
|
|
known Affair, transacted but a few Years since. It is as follows.
|
|
|
|
`A certain French Merchant, remarkable for his Honesty and
|
|
Uprightness, which had procured him the Confidence of the greatest
|
|
Traders in _Europe_, having suffered very considerable Losses at Sea,
|
|
followed by the Bankrupcy of several who were deeply in his Debt,
|
|
fell at length into so great Necessity, that he resolved to visit
|
|
_Paris_ in quest of Succours. He addressed himself to all his old
|
|
Correspondents, acquainted them with his Misfortunes, and prayed them
|
|
to help him in beginning the World again; assuring those to whom he
|
|
owed any thing, that he had no greater Desire than to pay them, and
|
|
that he should die contented if he might be so happy as to accomplish
|
|
it. All equally affected with his Condition, promised to assist him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
`One only inexorable, to whom he owed 1000 Crowns, took him
|
|
precisely in these Circumstances, and threw him into Prison,
|
|
absolutely resolved there to let him rot, rather than risque longer
|
|
what was his due.
|
|
|
|
`The Son of this Merchant, aged about two and twenty Years,
|
|
informed of the sorrowful Situation of his Father, arrives at
|
|
_Paris_, goes and throws himself at the Feet of the pitiless
|
|
Creditor, and there dissolving in Tears, intreats him by every Thing
|
|
that is most touching, to restore him his Father; protesting
|
|
solemnly, that if he would not thus make himself an Obstacle to their
|
|
Hopes of being re-establish'd in their Affairs, he should certainly
|
|
be the first payed.
|
|
|
|
`But if this fail'd to move, he conjures him to have Pity of
|
|
his Youth, and to be sensible to the Unhappiness of a Mother, charg'd
|
|
with seven or eight young Children, who are reduc'd to Beggary, and
|
|
perish: And in fine, if nothing was capable to touch him, at least
|
|
that he would permit him to put himself in his Father's Place, who by
|
|
his greater Skill in Business would probably sooner come to give him
|
|
entire Satisfaction. In uttering these last Words, he so tenderly
|
|
press'd his Knees in hope the Request would be granted, that this
|
|
Man, so hard and inflexible, struck with the Sight of so much Virtue
|
|
at his Feet, raised the young Man and embrac'd him in his Turn, with
|
|
Eyes all bathed in Tears: Ah! my Son, said he, your Father shall come
|
|
out. So much Love, and so much Respect for him, makes me even die
|
|
with Shame. I have resisted too long; let me efface forever the
|
|
Remembrance of it. I have one only Daughter, and she is worthy of
|
|
you. She would do as much for me as you for your Father. I give her
|
|
to you with all my Wealth, accept her; and let us run to your Father,
|
|
and demand his Consent.
|
|
|
|
`This tender Scene finished through all that the purest
|
|
Generosity might inspire on such Occasions, they ran to renew it at
|
|
the Dungeon of the poor Prisoner. But what was his Joy and his
|
|
Surprize! He saw his Son, of whose Arrival at _Paris_ he had not
|
|
known; and in the same Moment he saw him at the Top of Fortune and
|
|
Happiness. The Day of Marriage was fixed, all the Creditors were
|
|
payed by the Father-in-law, and the Merchant even in these so
|
|
delicate Circumstances, found himself free enough to take their
|
|
Receipts. In fine, they live all together, and their Union is
|
|
cemented on both sides with so much cordial hearty Love, that their
|
|
Happiness is perfect.'
|
|
|
|
A Friend of mine, to whom I show'd this Story in the Original,
|
|
altho' his Circumstances are very near as unfortunate as those of the
|
|
Merchant before the happy Change, yet could say upon reading it, That
|
|
he knew not whose Happiness was most to be envy'd, his whose Affairs
|
|
were so happily retriev'd, or his who had the Opportunity of giving
|
|
so much Pleasure to others. I believe my benevolent Friend spoke his
|
|
real Sentiments. I see Virtue in all those who were concern'd in the
|
|
Story, yet I know not whether their Virtue is more worthy of
|
|
Admiration than his.
|
|
_I am Your Friend and Reader,_ Y. Z.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, November 30, 1732
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Death of a Drunk_
|
|
|
|
Last Monday Morning a Woman who had been long given to
|
|
excessive Drinking, was found dead in a Room by her self, upon the
|
|
Floor. She could not be persuaded to go to Bed the Night before, but
|
|
would sit up alone, as was her frequent Custom. The Coroners Inquest
|
|
ascribe her Death to the too great Quantity of Liquor she took at one
|
|
Time. Her former Husband had many Times put several Sorts of odious
|
|
Physick into her Drink, in order to give her an Aversion to it, but
|
|
in vain; for who ever heard of a Sot reclaim'd? If there are any
|
|
such they are Miracles. People cannot be too cautious of the first
|
|
Steps that may lead them to be engaged in a Habit the most invincible
|
|
and the most pernicious of all others.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, December 7, 1732
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Counterfeits_
|
|
|
|
Last Monday se'nnight in the Evening, three Men went into the
|
|
Indian Prince Tavern, and having call'd for some Liquor, one of them
|
|
offer'd a new Twenty Shilling Bill to be chang'd for the Reckoning;
|
|
Mr. _R_. _Brockden_, Master of the House, suspecting it to be a
|
|
Counterfeit, went with it immediately to _A_. _Hamilton_, Esq; (under
|
|
Pretence of going out to get Change) who caused them presently to be
|
|
apprehended. Upon Examination, two of them appeared innocent, and
|
|
were discharged; the third, who offer'd to pass the Bill, being ask'd
|
|
how he came by it, answer'd that he brought Hogs to Town to sell, and
|
|
had taken it of a Woman unknown in the Market: Upon searching him,
|
|
two more of the same sort were found in his Pocket-book, all which he
|
|
said he had taken for Pork. From the Indian Prince he was carried
|
|
over to another Tavern, where he had put up his Horse, in order to
|
|
see if he had any Bags wherein more Bills might be found: While the
|
|
Examination was continuing there, a Woman Stranger in the outer Room
|
|
was observed to appear somewhat concern'd; upon which she was call'd
|
|
in, and ask'd, if she knew that Man: she answer'd Yes, he was her
|
|
Brother; being ask'd if she had any Money about her, the Man was seen
|
|
to wink at her, and she answer'd, No; but attempting to slide her
|
|
Hand into her Pocket, they prevented her, and brought the Woman of
|
|
the House to search her, who found in her Pocket twenty-three 20 _s_.
|
|
Bills of the same Sort. The Fellow finding the Story of the Hogs
|
|
would not answer, nor any other Shuffles avail him any thing, betook
|
|
himself at last to make an ingenuous Confession. He said that one
|
|
_Grindal_ who arrived this Summer in Capt. Blair from _Ireland_, got
|
|
600 20 _s_. Bills printed there from a Pattern he carried home last
|
|
Year; that when he came here, he admitted one _Watt_ into the Secret,
|
|
and gave him a Number of the Bills to pass and exchange in
|
|
_Pennsylvania_, while he went into the Jersies on the same Account,
|
|
altering his Name to _Thomson_ lest a Wife he had married at
|
|
New-Garden should hear of him; and that they were to meet next
|
|
Christmas at _Philadelphia_, and divide the Profits: That _Watt_ had
|
|
communicated the Thing to him, and given him Twenty-seven Bills to
|
|
pass, of which he was to have a Share for himself; telling him, to
|
|
persuade him to it, that it was no Sin, for it would make Money
|
|
plentier among poor People. He said he had as yet pass'd but one, of
|
|
which the Change 19 _s_. was found in his Pocket. He could not tell
|
|
where _Grindal_ might be at this Time in the Jersies, but he inform'd
|
|
that _Watt_ was at Eastown in Chester County. Officers were
|
|
immediately dispatch'd in quest of him, who rid all Night, surpriz'd
|
|
him in his Bed about Day-break, and guarded him to Town. After
|
|
Examination he was committed to Prison, to keep company with his
|
|
Friend the Pork-seller, who it seems has _brought his Hogs to a fine
|
|
Market_. Tis hoped that by Christmas we shall see _Grindal_ here
|
|
also, that he may (according to Agreement) _share the Profits with
|
|
'em_. The Bills they have attempted to counterfeit are of the last
|
|
Impression; the Counterfeits might pass with many People who do not
|
|
take much Notice, but they have imitated the Paper very ill, that of
|
|
the new Bills being thick and stiff, and the Counterfeits soft and
|
|
flimsy. What is most surprising is, that the Counterfeiters, with
|
|
all their care and exactness, have entirely omitted numbering their
|
|
Bills; at least none of those are number'd which are seiz'd. Was
|
|
this Infatuation, or were they afraid they should not number them
|
|
right?
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, December 19, 1732
|
|
|
|
Yesterday, being Market Day, Watt who was concern'd in the
|
|
Counterfeit Money, as mentioned in one of our late Papers, receiv'd
|
|
part of his Punishment, being whipt, pilloried and cropt. He behaved
|
|
so as to touch the Compassion of the Mob, and they did not fling at
|
|
him (as was expected) neither Snow-balls nor any Thing else. We hear
|
|
that Grindal, the Importer of the Bills, and chief Person concern'd,
|
|
was taken in the Jersies, but afterwards made his Escape. In his
|
|
Pocket-Book was found the Account of Charge, so much to the Printer,
|
|
so much for engraving the Plates, so much for Paper, &c.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, January 11, 1732/3
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Rules for a Club Formerly Established in Philadelphia_
|
|
|
|
Previous question, to be answer'd at every meeting.
|
|
|
|
Have you read over these queries this morning, in order to
|
|
consider what you might have to offer the Junto touching any one of
|
|
them? viz.
|
|
|
|
`1. Have you met with any thing in the author you last read,
|
|
remarkable, or suitable to be communicated to the Junto? particularly
|
|
in history, morality, poetry, physic, travels, mechanic arts, or
|
|
other parts of knowledge.
|
|
|
|
`2. What new story have you lately heard agreeable for telling
|
|
in conversation?
|
|
|
|
`3. Hath any citizen in your knowledge failed in his business
|
|
lately, and what have you heard of the cause?
|
|
|
|
`4. Have you lately heard of any citizen's thriving well, and
|
|
by what means?
|
|
|
|
`5. Have you lately heard how any present rich man, here or
|
|
elsewhere, got his estate?
|
|
|
|
`6. Do you know of any fellow citizen, who has lately done a
|
|
worthy action, deserving praise and imitation? or who has committed
|
|
an error proper for us to be warned against and avoid?
|
|
|
|
`7. What happy effects of intemperance have you lately observed
|
|
or heard? of imprudence? of passion? or of any other vice or folly?
|
|
|
|
`8. What happy effects of temperance? of prudence? of
|
|
moderation? or of any other virtue?
|
|
|
|
`9. Have you or any of your acquaintance been lately sick or
|
|
wounded? If so, what remedies were used, and what were their
|
|
effects?
|
|
|
|
`10. Who do you know that are shortly going voyages or
|
|
journies, if one should have occasion to send by them?
|
|
|
|
`11. Do you think of any thing at present, in which the Junto
|
|
may be serviceable to _mankind_? to their country, to their friends,
|
|
or to themselves?
|
|
|
|
`12. Hath any deserving stranger arrived in town since last
|
|
meeting, that you heard of? and what have you heard or observed of
|
|
his character or merits? and whether think you, it lies in the power
|
|
of the Junto to oblige him, or encourage him as he deserves?
|
|
|
|
`13. Do you know of any deserving young beginner lately set up,
|
|
whom it lies in the power of the Junto any way to encourage?
|
|
|
|
|
|
`14. Have you lately observed any defect in the laws of your
|
|
_country_, of which it would be proper to move the legislature for an
|
|
amendment? Or do you know of any beneficial law that is wanting?
|
|
|
|
`15. Have you lately observed any encroachment on the just
|
|
liberties of the people?
|
|
|
|
`16. Hath any body attacked your reputation lately? and what
|
|
can the Junto do towards securing it?
|
|
|
|
`17. Is there any man whose friendship you want, and which the
|
|
Junto or any of them, can procure for you?
|
|
|
|
`18. Have you lately heard any member's character attacked, and
|
|
how have you defended it?
|
|
|
|
`19. Hath any man injured you, from whom it is in the power of
|
|
the Junto to procure redress?
|
|
|
|
`20. In what manner can the Junto, or any of them, assist you
|
|
in any of your honourable designs?
|
|
|
|
`21. Have you any weighty affair in hand, in which you think
|
|
the advice of the Junto may be of service?
|
|
|
|
`22. What benefits have you lately received from any man not
|
|
present?
|
|
|
|
`23. Is there any difficulty in matters of opinion, of justice,
|
|
and injustice, which you would gladly have discussed at this time?
|
|
|
|
`24. Do you see any thing amiss in the present customs or
|
|
proceedings of the Junto, which might be amended?'
|
|
_______________________
|
|
|
|
Any person to be qualified, to stand up, and lay his hand on
|
|
his breast, and be asked these questions; viz.
|
|
|
|
`1. Have you any particular disrespect to any present members?
|
|
-- _Answer._ I have not.
|
|
|
|
`2. Do you sincerely declare that you love mankind in general;
|
|
of what profession or religion soever? -- _Answ._ I do.
|
|
|
|
`3. Do you think any person ought to be harmed in his body,
|
|
name or goods, for mere speculative opinions, or his external way of
|
|
worship? -- _Ans._ No.
|
|
|
|
`4. Do you love truth for truth's sake, and will you endeavour
|
|
impartially to find and receive it yourself and communicate it to
|
|
others? -- _Answ._ Yes.'
|
|
|
|
1732
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Proposals and Queries to be Asked the Junto_
|
|
|
|
Proposals
|
|
|
|
That P S and A N be immediately invited into the Junto.
|
|
|
|
That all New Members be qualified by the 4 qualifications and
|
|
all the old ones take it.
|
|
|
|
That these Queries be copied at the beginning of a Book and be
|
|
read distinctly each Meeting with a Pause between each while one
|
|
might fill and drink a Glass of Wine.
|
|
|
|
That if they cannot all be gone thro' in one Night we begin the
|
|
next where we left off, only such as particularly regard the Junto to
|
|
be read every Night.
|
|
|
|
That it be not hereafter the Duty of any Member to bring
|
|
Queries but left to his Discretion.
|
|
|
|
That an old Declamation be without fail read every Night when
|
|
there is no New One.
|
|
|
|
That Mr. Brientnals Poem on the Junto be read once a Month, and
|
|
hum'd in Consort, by as many as can hum it.
|
|
|
|
That once a Month in Spring, Summer and Fall the Junto meet of
|
|
a Sunday in the Afternoon in some proper Place cross the River for
|
|
Bodily Exercise.
|
|
|
|
That in the aforesaid Book be kept Minutes thus
|
|
Fryday June 30. 1732.
|
|
|
|
Present ABCDEF &c.
|
|
1. HP read this Maxim viz. or this Experiment viz or &c.
|
|
5. Lately arriv'd one ------ of such a Profession or such a
|
|
Science &c.
|
|
7. XY grew rich by this Means &c.
|
|
|
|
That these Minutes be read once a Year at the Anniversary.
|
|
|
|
That all Fines due be immediately paid in, and that penal Laws
|
|
for Queries and Declamations be abolish'd only he who is absent above
|
|
ten Times in the Year, to pay 10_s._ towards the Anniversary
|
|
Entertainment.
|
|
|
|
That the Secretary for keeping the Minutes be allow'd one
|
|
Shilling per Night, to be paid out of the Money already in his Hands.
|
|
|
|
That after the Queries are begun reading, all Discourse foreign
|
|
to them shall be deem'd impertinent.
|
|
|
|
When any thing from Reading an Author is mention'd, if it
|
|
excead___lines and the Junto require it; The Person shall bring the
|
|
Passage, or an Abstract of it, in Writing, the next Night, if he has
|
|
it not with him.
|
|
|
|
When the Books of the Library come: Every Member shall
|
|
undertake some Author, that he may not be without Observations to
|
|
communicate.
|
|
____________________
|
|
Queries to be ask'd the Junto
|
|
|
|
Whence comes the Dew that stands on the Outside of a Tankard
|
|
that has cold Water in it in the Summer Time?
|
|
|
|
Does the Importation of Servants increase or advance the Wealth
|
|
of our Country?
|
|
|
|
Would not an Office of Insurance for Servants be of Service,
|
|
and what Methods are proper for the erecting such an Office?
|
|
|
|
Qu. Whence does it proceed, that the Proselytes to any Sect or
|
|
Persuasion generally appear more zealous than those who are bred up
|
|
in it?
|
|
|
|
Answ. I Suppose that People _bred_ in different Persuasions are
|
|
nearly zealous alike. He that changes his Party is either sincere,
|
|
or not sincere; that is he either does it for the sake of the
|
|
Opinions merely, or with a View of Interest. If he is sincere and
|
|
has no View of Interest; and considers before he declares himself,
|
|
how much Ill will he shall have from those he leaves, and that those
|
|
he is about to go among will be apt to suspect his Sincerity: if he
|
|
is not really zealous he will not declare; and therefore must be
|
|
zealous if he does declare. If he is not sincere, He is oblig'd at
|
|
least to put on an Appearance of great Zeal, to convince the better,
|
|
his New Friends that he is heartily in earnest, for his old ones he
|
|
knows dislike him. And as few Acts of Zeal will be more taken Notice
|
|
of than such as are done against the Party he has left, he is
|
|
inclin'd to injure or malign them, because he knows they contemn and
|
|
despise him. Hence one Renegade is (as the Proverb says) worse than
|
|
10 Turks.
|
|
______________________
|
|
|
|
Qu. Can a Man arrive at Perfection in this Life as some
|
|
Believe; or is it impossible as others believe?
|
|
|
|
A. Perhaps they differ in the meaning of the Word Perfection.
|
|
|
|
|
|
I suppose the Perfection of any Thing to be only the greatest
|
|
the Nature of that Thing is capable of;
|
|
|
|
different Things have different Degrees of Perfection; and the
|
|
same thing at different Times.
|
|
|
|
Thus an Horse is more perfect than an Oyster yet the Oyster may
|
|
be a perfect Oyster as well as the Horse a perfect Horse.
|
|
|
|
And an Egg is not so perfect as a Chicken, nor a Chicken as a
|
|
Hen; for the Hen has more Strength than the Chicken, and the Chicken
|
|
more Life than the Egg: Yet it may be a perfect Egg, Chicken and Hen.
|
|
|
|
If they mean, a Man cannot in this Life be so perfect as an
|
|
Angel, it may be true; for an Angel by being incorporeal is allow'd
|
|
some Perfections we are at present incapable of, and less liable to
|
|
some Imperfections that we are liable to.
|
|
|
|
If they mean a Man is not capable of being so perfect here as
|
|
he is capable of being in Heaven, that may be true likewise. But
|
|
that a Man is not capable of being so perfect here, as he is capable
|
|
of being here; is not Sense; it is as if I should say, a Chicken in
|
|
the State of a Chicken is not capable of being so perfect as a
|
|
Chicken is capable of being in that State. In the above Sense if
|
|
there may be a p erfect Oyster, a perfect Horse, a perfect Ship, why
|
|
not a perfect Man? that is as perfect as his present Nature and
|
|
Circumstances admit?
|
|
______________________
|
|
|
|
Quest. Wherein consists the Happiness of a rational Creature?
|
|
|
|
Ans. In having a Sound Mind and a healthy Body, a Sufficiency
|
|
of the Necessaries and Conveniencies of Life, together with the
|
|
Favour of God, and the Love of Mankind.
|
|
|
|
Qu. What do you mean by a sound Mind?
|
|
|
|
A. A Faculty of reasoning justly and truly in searching after
|
|
and discovering such Truths as relate to my Happiness. Which Faculty
|
|
is the Gift of God, capable of being improv'd by Experience and
|
|
Instruction, into Wisdom.
|
|
|
|
Q. What is Wisdom?
|
|
|
|
A. The Knowledge of what will be best for us on all Occasions
|
|
and of the best Ways of attaining it.
|
|
|
|
Q. Is any Man wise at all Times, and in all Things?
|
|
|
|
|
|
A. No; but some are much more frequently wise than others.
|
|
|
|
Q. What do you mean by the Necessaries of Life?
|
|
|
|
A. Having wholesome Food and Drink wherewith to satisfie Hunger
|
|
and Thirst, Cloathing and a Place of Habitation fit to secure against
|
|
the inclemencies of the Weather.
|
|
|
|
Q. What do you mean by the Conveniencies of Life?
|
|
|
|
A. Such a Plenty [ ]
|
|
______________________
|
|
|
|
And if in the Conduct of your Affairs you have been deceived by
|
|
others, or have committed any Error your self, it will be a
|
|
Discretion in you to observe and note the same, and the Defailance,
|
|
with the Means or Expedient to repair it.
|
|
|
|
No Man truly wise but who hath been deceived.
|
|
|
|
Let all your observations be committed to writing every Night
|
|
before you go to Sleep.
|
|
______________________
|
|
|
|
Query, Whether it is worth a Rational Man's While to forego the
|
|
Pleasure arising from the present Luxury of the Age in Eating and
|
|
Drinking and artful Cookery, studying to gratify the Appetite for the
|
|
Sake of enjoying healthy Old Age, a Sound Mind and a Sound Body,
|
|
which a re the Advantages reasonably to be expected from a more
|
|
simple and temperate Diet.
|
|
|
|
Whether those Meats and Drinks are not the best, that contain
|
|
nothing in their natural Tastes, nor have any Thing added by Art so
|
|
pleasing as to induce us to Eat or Drink when we are not athirst or
|
|
Hungry or after Thirst and Hunger are satisfied; Water for Instance
|
|
for Drink and Bread or the Like for Meat?
|
|
|
|
Is there any Difference between Knowledge and Prudence?
|
|
|
|
If there is any, which of the two is most Eligible?
|
|
|
|
Is it justifiable to put private Men to Death for the Sake of
|
|
publick Safety or Tranquility, who have committed no Crime?
|
|
|
|
As in the Case of the Plague to stop Infection, or as in the
|
|
Case of the Welshmen here Executed.
|
|
______________________
|
|
|
|
Whether Men ought to be denominated Good or ill Men from their
|
|
Actions or their Inclinations?
|
|
|
|
|
|
If the Sovereign Power attempts to deprive a Subject of his
|
|
Right, (or which is the same Thing, of what he thinks his Right) is
|
|
it justifiable in him to resist if he is able?
|
|
|
|
What general Conduct of Life is most suitable for Men in such
|
|
Circumstances as most of the Members of the Junto are; Or, of the
|
|
many Schemes of Living which are in our Power to pursue, which will
|
|
be most probably conducive to our Happiness.
|
|
|
|
Which is best to make a Friend of, a wise and good Man that is
|
|
poor; or a Rich Man that is neither wise nor good? Which of the two
|
|
is the greatest Loss to a Country, if they both die?
|
|
|
|
Which of the two is happiest in Life?
|
|
|
|
Does it not in a general Way require great Study and intense
|
|
Application for a Poor Man to become rich and Powerful, if he would
|
|
do it, without the Forfeiture of his Honesty?
|
|
|
|
Does it not require as much Pains, Study and Application to
|
|
become truly Wise and strictly Good and Virtuous as to become rich?
|
|
|
|
Can a Man of common Capacity pursue both Views with Success at
|
|
the same Time?
|
|
|
|
If not, which of the two is it best for him to make his whole
|
|
Application to?
|
|
|
|
1732
|
|
|
|
|
|
_On Drunkenness_
|
|
|
|
_To the Printer of the_ GAZETTE.
|
|
|
|
I was much pleas'd with the short Caution you gave in one of
|
|
your late Papers, on Occasion of a Woman whose sudden Death the
|
|
Coroner's Inquest ascrib'd to the violent Effect of strong Drink; and
|
|
being my self related in the nearest manner to one, on whom that
|
|
Caution seem'd to have some good Effect, I could wish you would
|
|
pursue it further, in which perhaps you may oblige others beside me:
|
|
For it is now become the Practice of some otherwise discreet Women,
|
|
instead of a Draught of Beer and a Toast, or a Hunk of Bread and
|
|
Cheese, or a wooden Noggin of good Porridge and Bread, as our good
|
|
old English Custom is, or Milk and Bread boiled, or Tea and Bread and
|
|
Butter, or Milk-Coffee, &c. they must have their two or three DRAMS
|
|
in a Morning; by which, as I believe, their Appetite for wholesome
|
|
Food is taken away, and their Minds stupified, so that they have no
|
|
longer that prudent Care for their Family, to manage well the
|
|
Business of their Station, nor that regard for Reputation, which good
|
|
Women ought to have. And tho' they find their Husband's Affairs
|
|
every Day going backward thro' their Negligence, and themselves want
|
|
Necessaries; tho' there be no Bread in the House, and the Children
|
|
almost barefoot this cold Weather, yet, as if Drinking Rum were part
|
|
of their Religious Worship, they never fail their constant daily
|
|
Sacrifice. It is not long since I was present at the following
|
|
Scene. Enters one who was once a handsome Woman, but now with
|
|
bloated Face and swollen Legs, _How do you do, Neighbour?_
|
|
Indifferent. _Bless me, it's very cold, and I've no Wood at home;
|
|
but I'll go down to_ ------ , _and they'll help me to Wood; for they
|
|
have a penny to spend, and a penny to lend, and a penny to lay up.
|
|
Come, can't you give us a Dram?_ No, I wish I had one. _Come, I've
|
|
got a Penny._ And I've got but a Penny, if more would save my Life I
|
|
ha'nt it. _Come then, I've got two pence, and your Penny will fetch
|
|
half a Pint of Run; and you shall be two pence another time._ So away
|
|
goes the half-pint Bottle. _And you shall find Sugar, and a little
|
|
Bit of Butter, and that's pure good this cold Weather._ Judge you how
|
|
finely things are like to be carried on in the Families over which
|
|
such Women are placed. I for any part shall never more speak against
|
|
TEA; let those that like it enjoy it for ever: Tea will not take away
|
|
their Sense of Shame and of Duty, nor their Fear of Censure: Their
|
|
Pride in this Particular, may make them careful, and industrious, and
|
|
frugal in other Respects, that they may have wherewith to support
|
|
their Rank and Credit in the World. They may still preserve their
|
|
Modesty, and their natural Affection; But Drunkenness is utterly
|
|
inconsistent with any one of those Virtues which make Women amiable
|
|
or valuable to Men. _I am your Friend and Reader,_ &c.
|
|
|
|
|
|
______________________
|
|
Altho' it has happened, that of the four unfortunate Wretches,
|
|
who within these few Weeks have died suddenly in this County, by
|
|
excessive Drinking of strong Liquor, two were indeed Women; yet it
|
|
must be acknowledged, that this Kind of Intemperance is by far more
|
|
frequent among the Men than among them: And perhaps 'tis owing to the
|
|
general Moderation of Women in the Use of strong Drink, that the
|
|
present Race of Englishmen retain any considerable Degree of the
|
|
Health, Robustness, and Activity of their Ancestors. There are,
|
|
however, some, it seems, who, directly contrary to the Advice given
|
|
by the Angel to the Mother of the strongest Man, instead of
|
|
refraining all Drink that may intoxicate, are determin'd to drink
|
|
nothing else. Their Fault will be its own Punishment: But what
|
|
Crimes have their unhappy Offspring committed, that they are
|
|
condemn'd to bring Misery into the World with them, to be born with
|
|
the Seeds of many future Diseases in their Constitution.
|
|
|
|
The Practice of Drinking Drams is so general, and so well
|
|
establish'd in the World at present, that some People are apt to
|
|
wonder, and scarce think it possible, when they are told, that Men
|
|
formerly lived and performed their Labour without it; and that 'tis
|
|
scarce 50 Years since distill'd Spirits have been commonly used in
|
|
England. They were first only to be found in the Apothecary's Shop,
|
|
and prescrib'd by Physicians in extraordinary Cases, a _Drachm_ at a
|
|
time, whence we have the present Word _Dram_, but it signifies now
|
|
much more than the _eighth part of an Ounce._ Our Forefathers, 'tis
|
|
true, have had Beer many Ages; but within the Memory of Men,
|
|
Temperance in Drinking was so universal amongst them, especially in
|
|
the inland Country Places, that a good old Man not long since dead
|
|
with us, could speak it as an extraordinary Thing, _Verily, I tell
|
|
thee, Friend, I knew a Smith in aoer Toon, who would sometimes go to
|
|
th' Alehouse, when he had no other Business there, but to drink!_
|
|
Observe, it was _a Smith_, which is allow'd to be a thirsty Trade,
|
|
_and but one Smith!_ I am afraid we have never a modern Miracle on
|
|
the other side to match it; that is to say, _A Smith_, or indeed any
|
|
other Tradesman, _in our Town, who never goes to the Tavern_ but when
|
|
he has other Business there _beside Drinking_.
|
|
|
|
|
|
That decrying of _Drams_ may not be thought the Fancy of
|
|
whimsical particular Men, who love Singularity, and to talk against
|
|
every thing that is in Fashion; see the united Wisdom of the British
|
|
Nation, King, Lords, and Commons in Parliament assembled, condemning
|
|
that Practice, in the Act made in 1729, for restraining it. The
|
|
Preamble is worth transcribing. _Whereas the Drinking of Spirits and
|
|
strong Waters is become very common amongst the People of Inferior
|
|
Rank, and the constant Use thereof tends greatly to the Destruction
|
|
of th eir Healths, enervating them, and rendring them unfit for
|
|
useful Labour, intoxicating them, and debauching their Morals, and
|
|
leading them into all manner of Vices and Wickedness, the Prevention
|
|
whereof would be of the greatest publick Good and Benefit,_ &c. 'Tis
|
|
pity that Act had not fully its desired Effect.
|
|
|
|
I might cite the Opinions of our most famous Physicians, who
|
|
are universally against the Practice we are speaking of: but I have
|
|
not Room, and can only at present give a Paragraph or two from Dr.
|
|
_Allen's Synopsis of Physick_, lately published with considerable
|
|
Applause. In his Chapter of _POISONS_, having treated of mineral,
|
|
vegetable, and animal _Poisons_, he concludes with this.
|
|
|
|
DISTILLED POISONS.
|
|
`There is yet another Family of Poisons, to wit, _Vinous
|
|
Spirits_ and _distilled intoxicating Liquors_; for the too frequent
|
|
and plentiful devouring of these (as the ill Custom obtains) hath
|
|
killed as many Thousands of Men as there are Stars in the Skie; nay,
|
|
ten times ten hundred Thousands have died by these, more than by all
|
|
the rest of Poisons whatever, which is not in the least to be doubted
|
|
of; wherefore I usually call this pernicious Mischief, by way
|
|
excellence, THE HARM, whether in jest or earnest I need not say. It
|
|
not only occasions violent Distempers in a great many, but also
|
|
sometimes _sudden Death_ in some; for which Reason, if it does not
|
|
deserve the Name of _Poison_, what else it would be called I can
|
|
neither learn nor conjecture.
|
|
|
|
`An ungrateful Burthen lies upon generous Physicians. Those
|
|
who guzzle burning Spirits Night and Day, according to their
|
|
detestable Custom, perpetually tippling _liquid Fire_, when they have
|
|
extinguished all Concoctions, enervated all the Solids, and corrupted
|
|
the Liquids; and the Fabrick a long while staggering is now ready to
|
|
fall, then they seek our Help. What is to be done? The Office of a
|
|
Scavenger is to be performed; and perhaps when the Drain is made, and
|
|
by chance the Matter retrieved, they presently return to the same
|
|
Practice again, as a Dog to the Vomit, or a Sow to the Mire; and
|
|
prodigal of their Lives, they shorten the remaining part of their
|
|
Days. What must Physicians, or what can Divines do? Medicines can
|
|
be of no Service, and they will not hearken to Counsel. All Things
|
|
will be in vain, they rush into the Embraces of the wicked Poison,
|
|
they become stupid and blind, deafer to Reason and Counsel than
|
|
_Marpassus's Rocks_, they thirst forever, and drink as if bit by the
|
|
_Dipsas_, and the more they drink the more they covet of the _deadly
|
|
distilled Water_, with which, in as much Haste as they can, they
|
|
close the Scene, even at the Point of Death calling for the Bottle.
|
|
Most miserable! and deplorable!
|
|
|
|
`O happy Temperance! never too much to be praised! of the
|
|
_first_, which thou mad'st the _golden_ Age, _the Ornament and
|
|
Safeguard!_ thy own Persuasive and Value! worshipped and adored by
|
|
all pure and pious Souls in all Ages. Thou art, if any thing in the
|
|
Earth, _the true Composer of Archaeus_, and the Preserver of a sound
|
|
Mind in a sound Body. Thou lead'st thy Adorers right on the way to a
|
|
long and happy old Age, with a pleasant and youthful, graceful and
|
|
lovely Countenance. To conclude, thou art adorned with the Praises
|
|
even of thy Enemies, and art counted lovely by them, with whom, when
|
|
thou art cast off, there remains the Curse of _Satyricus_, _Let them
|
|
see this Virtue, and waste away, since they have forsaken it_.'
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, February 1, 1732/3
|
|
|
|
|
|
_A Meditation on a Quart Mugg_
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|
Wretched, miserable, and unhappy Mug! I pity thy luckless Lot,
|
|
I commiserate thy Misfortunes, thy Griefs fill me with Compassion,
|
|
and because of thee are Tears made frequently to burst from my Eyes.
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|
|
|
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|
How often have I seen him compell'd to hold up his Handle at
|
|
the Bar, for no other Crime than that of being empty; then snatch'd
|
|
away by a surly Officer, and plung'd suddenly into a Tub of cold
|
|
Water: Sad Spectacle, and Emblem of human Penury, oppress'd by
|
|
arbitrary Power! How often is he hurry'd down into a dismal Vault,
|
|
sent up fully laden in a cold Sweat, and by a rude Hand thrust into
|
|
the Fire! How often have I seen it obliged to undergo the
|
|
Indignities of a dirty Wench; to have melting Candles dropt on its
|
|
naked Sides, and sometimes in its Mouth, to risque being broken into
|
|
a thousand Pieces, for Actions which itself was not guilty of! How
|
|
often is he forced into the Company of boisterous Sots, who say all
|
|
their Nonsence, Noise, profane Swearing, Cursing, and Quarreling, on
|
|
the harmless Mug, which speaks not a Word! They overset him, maim
|
|
him, and sometimes turn him to Arms offensive or defensive, as they
|
|
please; when of himself he would not be of either Party, but would as
|
|
willingly stand still. Alas! what Power, or Place, is provided,
|
|
where this poor Mug, this unpitied Slave, can have Redress of his
|
|
Wrongs and Sufferings? Or where shall he have a Word of Praise
|
|
bestow'd on him for his Well-doings, and faithful Services? If he
|
|
prove of a large size, his Owner curses him, and says he will devour
|
|
more than he'll earn: If his Size be small, those whom his Master
|
|
appoints him to serve will curse him as much, and perhaps threaten
|
|
him with the Inquisition of the Standard. Poor Mug, unfortunate is
|
|
thy Condition! Of thy self thou wouldst do no Harm, but much Harm is
|
|
done with thee! Thou art accused of many Mischiefs; thou art said to
|
|
administer Drunkenness, Poison, and broken Heads: But none praise
|
|
thee for the good Things thou yieldest! Shouldest thou produce
|
|
double Beer, nappy Ale, stallcop Cyder, or Cyder mull'd, fine Punch,
|
|
or cordial Tiff; yet for all these shouldst thou not be prais'd, but
|
|
the rich Liquors themselves, which tho' within thee, twill be said to
|
|
be foreign to thee! And yet, so unhappy is thy Destiny, thou must
|
|
bear all their Faults and Abominations! Hast thou been industriously
|
|
serving thy Employers with Tiff or Punch, and instantly they dispatch
|
|
thee for Cyder, then must thou be abused for smelling of Rum. Hast
|
|
thou been steaming their Noses gratefully, with mull'd Cyder or
|
|
butter'd Ale, and then offerest to refresh their Palates with the
|
|
best of Beer, they will curse thee for thy Greasiness. And how,
|
|
alas! can thy Service be rendered more tolerable to thee? If thou
|
|
submittest thy self to a Scouring in the Kitchen, what must thou
|
|
undergo from sharp Sand, hot Ashes, and a coarse Dishclout; besides
|
|
the Danger of having thy Lips rudely torn, thy Countenance
|
|
disfigured, thy Arms dismantled, and thy whole Frame shatter'd, with
|
|
violent Concussions in an Iron Pot or Brass Kettle! And yet, O Mug!
|
|
if these Dangers thou escapest, with little Injury, thou must at last
|
|
untimely fall, be broken to Pieces, and cast away, never more to be
|
|
recollected and form'd into a Quart Mug. Whether by the Fire, or in
|
|
a Battle, or choak'd with a Dishclout, or by a Stroke against a
|
|
Stone, thy Dissolution happens; 'tis all alike to thy avaritious
|
|
Owner; he grieves not for thee, but for the Shilling with which he
|
|
purchased thee! If thy Bottom-Part should chance to survive, it may
|
|
be preserv'd to hold Bits of Candles, or Blacking for Shoes, or Salve
|
|
for kibed Heels; but all thy other Members will be for ever buried in
|
|
some miry Hole; or less carefully disposed of, so that little
|
|
Children, who have not yet arrived to Acts of Cruelty, may gather
|
|
them up to furnish out their Baby-Houses: Or, being cast upon the
|
|
Dunghill, they will therewith be carted into Meadow Grounds; where,
|
|
being spread abroad and discovered, they must be thrown to the Heap
|
|
of Stones, Bones, and Rubbish; or being left until the Mower finds
|
|
them with his Scythe, they will with bitter Curses be tossed over the
|
|
Hedge; and so serve for unlucky Boys to throw at Birds and Dogs;
|
|
until by Length of Time and numerous Casualties, they shall be
|
|
press'd into their Mother Earth, and be converted to their original
|
|
Principles.
|
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|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, July 19, 1733
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|
|
_Blackamore, on Mulatto Gentlemen_
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|
|
_Set a Beggar on Horseback,_ &c. Chesh.
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|
|
Mr. _Gazetteer_,
|
|
It is observed concerning the Generation of _Molattoes_, that
|
|
they are seldom well belov'd either by the Whites or the Blacks.
|
|
Their Approach towards Whiteness, makes them look back with some kind
|
|
of Scorn the Colour they seem to have left, while the Negroes, who do
|
|
not think them better than themselves, return their Contempt with
|
|
Interest: And the Whites, who respect them no Whit the more for the
|
|
nearer Affinity in Colour, are apt to regard their Behaviour as too
|
|
bold and assuming, and bordering upon Impudence. As they are next to
|
|
Negroes, and but just above 'em, they are terribly afraid of being
|
|
thought Negroes, and therefore avoid as much as possible their
|
|
Company or Commerce: and Whitefolks are as little fond of the Company
|
|
of _Molattoes_.
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|
|
|
When People by their Industry or good Fortune, from mean
|
|
Beginnings find themselves in Circumstances a little more easy, there
|
|
is an Ambition seizes many of them immediately to become
|
|
_Gentlefolks_: But 'tis no easy Thing for a Clown or a Labourer, on a
|
|
sudden to hit in all respects, the natural and easy Manner of those
|
|
who have been genteely educated: And 'tis the Curse of _Imitation_,
|
|
that it almost always either under-does or over-does.
|
|
|
|
The _true Gentleman_, who is well known to be such, can take a
|
|
Walk, or drink a Glass, and converse freely, if there be occasion,
|
|
with honest Men of any Degree below him, without degrading or fearing
|
|
to degrade himself in the least. For my Part, I am an ordinary
|
|
Mechanick, and I pray I may always have the Grace to know my self and
|
|
my Station. As little as I have learnt of the World, whenever I find
|
|
a Man well dress'd whom I do not know, and observe him mighty
|
|
cautious how he mixes in Company, or converses, or engages in any
|
|
kind of equal Affair with such as appear to be his Inferiors; I
|
|
always judge him, and I generally find him, to be some _new
|
|
Gentleman_, or rather _half Gentleman_, or _Mungrel_, an unnatural
|
|
Compound of Earth and _Brass_ like the Feet of _Nebuchadnezzar's_
|
|
Image. And if in the Way of my Business, I find some young Woman
|
|
Mistress of a newly fine furnished House, treating me with a kind of
|
|
Superiority, a distant sort of Freedom, and a high Manner of
|
|
Condescension that might become a Governor's Lady, I cannot help
|
|
imagining her to be some poor Girl that is but lately well married:
|
|
Or if I see something in her very haughty and imperious, I conclude
|
|
that 'tis not long since she was somebody's Servant Maid.
|
|
|
|
|
|
With Regard to the Respect shown them by the _true Gentry_ and
|
|
the _no Gentry_, our _half Gentry_ are exactly in the Case of the
|
|
_Mulattoes_ abovementioned. They are the Ridicule and Contempt of
|
|
both sides.
|
|
|
|
There is my former Acquaintance (but now he cannot speak to me)
|
|
the lumpish stupid _Jack Chopstick_, while he kept in his natural
|
|
Sphere, which (as that of all heavy Bodies) is the lowest, the Figure
|
|
he made among Acquaintance of his own Rank was well enough; none of
|
|
us envy'd him, 'tis true, nor none of us despis'd him: But now he has
|
|
got a little Money, the Case is exceedingly alter'd. Without
|
|
Experience of Men or Knowledge of Books, or even common Wit, the vain
|
|
Fool thrusts himself into Conversation with People of the best Sense
|
|
and the most polite. All his Absurdities, which were scarcely taken
|
|
Notice of among us, stand evident among them, and afford them
|
|
continual Matter of Diversion. At the same time, we below cannot
|
|
help considering him as a Monkey that climbs a Tree, the higher he
|
|
goes, the more he shows his Arse.
|
|
|
|
To conclude with the Thought I began; there are perhaps
|
|
_Molattoes_ in Religion, in Politicks, in Love, and in several other
|
|
Things; but of all sorts of _Molattoes_, none appear to me so
|
|
monstrously ridiculous as the _Molatto Gentleman_.
|
|
_I am Yours, &c._
|
|
BLACKAMORE.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, August 30, 1733
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Brave Men at Fires_
|
|
|
|
_To the Publisher of the_ GAZETTE.
|
|
|
|
An experienc'd Writer has said, there was never a great Man
|
|
that was not an industrious Man, and I believe that there never was a
|
|
good Man that was a lazy Man. This may serve to introduce a few
|
|
Thoughts I have had while meditating on the Circumstances of
|
|
Buildings on Fire, and the Persons there gather'd. Accidental Fires
|
|
in Houses are most frequent in the Winter and in the Night Time: But
|
|
neither Cold nor Darkness will deter good People, who are able, from
|
|
hastening to the dreadful Place, and giving their best Assistance to
|
|
quench the Flames; nor wicked People from making as much Haste to
|
|
pilfer; nor others to be idle Spectators. The two latter Sort are
|
|
not to be easily instructed and made good; and as it is not in my
|
|
Power to punish them otherwise than by despising them, as all good
|
|
People do, I shall here neglect to characterize them further.
|
|
|
|
The brave Men who at Fires are active and speedy with their
|
|
best Advice and Example, or the Labour of their Hands, are uppermost
|
|
in my Thoughts. This kind of Industry seems to me a great Virtue.
|
|
He that is afraid to leave a warm Bed, and to walk in the Dark, and
|
|
to dawb or tear his Clothes or his Skin; He that makes no Difference
|
|
between Virtue and Vice, and takes no Pleasure in Hospitality; and He
|
|
that cares not who suff ers, if he himself gains by it, or suffers
|
|
not; will not any one of them, be industriously concern'd (if their
|
|
own Dwellings are out of Danger) in preserving from devouring Flames
|
|
either private or publick Buildings.
|
|
|
|
But how pleasing must it be to a thinking Man to observe, that
|
|
not a Fire happens in this Town, but soon after it is seen and cry'd
|
|
out, the Place is crowded by active Men of different Ages,
|
|
Professions and Titles; who, as of one Mind and Rank, apply
|
|
themselves with all Vigilance and Resolution, according to their
|
|
Abilities, to the hard Work of conquering the increasing Fire. Some
|
|
of the chiefest in Authority, and numbers of good Housekeepers, are
|
|
ever ready, not only to direct but to labour, and are not seen to
|
|
shun Parts or Places the most hazardous; and Others who having scarce
|
|
a Coat in the World besides that on their Backs, will venture that,
|
|
and their Limbs, in saving of Goods surrounded with Fire, and in
|
|
rending off flaming Shingles. They do it not for Sake of Reward of
|
|
Money or Fame: There is no Provision of either made for them. But
|
|
they have a Reward in themselves, and they love one another. If it
|
|
were prudent to mention Names, and could Virtue be prais'd without
|
|
Danger of Envy and Calumny rising against her, I should rejoyce to
|
|
know a skilful Pen employ'd, to distinguish, in lively Expressions
|
|
and significant Language, Men so deserving.
|
|
|
|
|
|
This poor Paper shall praise them altogether; and while neither
|
|
its Author nor they are nam'd, Virtue will be its own Reward, and
|
|
Envy and Calumny have no Body to point at. Ye Men of Courage,
|
|
Industry, and Goodness, continue thus in well doing; and if you grow
|
|
not ostentatious, it will be thought by every good Man who sees your
|
|
Performances; here are brave Men, Men of Spirit and Humanity, good
|
|
Citizens, or Neighbours, capable and worthy of civil Society, and the
|
|
Enjoyment of a happy Government. We see where these Men are, and
|
|
what they are busy about; they are not snoring in their Beds after a
|
|
De bauch; they are not employ'd in any Crimes for Concealment whereof
|
|
the Vicious chuse the Night Season, nor do they prefer their own Ease
|
|
at Home to the Safety of other Peoples Fortunes or Lives. See there
|
|
a gallant Man who has rescu'd Children from the Flames! -- Another
|
|
receives in his Arms a poor scorch'd Creature escaping out at a
|
|
Window! -- Another is loaded with Papers and the best Furniture, and
|
|
secures them for the Owner. -- What daring Souls are cutting away the
|
|
flaming Roof to stop the Fires Progress to others! -- How vigorously
|
|
do these brave Fellows hand along the Water and work the Engines, and
|
|
assist the Ladders; and with what Presence of Mind, Readiness and
|
|
Clearness, do these fine Men observe, advise and direct. Here are
|
|
Heroes and effective Men fit to compose the Prime of an Army, and to
|
|
either lay or defend a Siege or Storm.
|
|
|
|
This little City, but esteem'd great of its Age, owes not more
|
|
at this Day for its long Streets and fair Stories, to Architects of
|
|
any kind, than to those worthy Inhabitants, who have always started
|
|
at the first Warning, to oppose and vanquish the Rage of Fire.
|
|
|
|
Besides the Pains freely taken by a great many good People in
|
|
putting out Fires, some are at the Expence of Buckets and Ladders;
|
|
without which the Business could not be done. And if it be a Duty
|
|
incumbent on all that can afford it, to provide such useful
|
|
Implements, I am of Opinion that it is most so on those, who being
|
|
decrepid or infirm, cannot assist in Person; or who wearing costly
|
|
Clothes, would not risque their being spoil'd. But such as can
|
|
neither advise nor labour, should not stand in the Way of others who
|
|
can, and are willing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
It is true indeed, as well among Men as Bees, that some Drones
|
|
are in every Hive or Swarm; but I hope there are few so void of
|
|
Consideration, and Regard to private and publick Safety, as a
|
|
vagabond Fellow at the late Fire, who, being smartly ask'd by an
|
|
industrious young Man, why he did not lend a Hand to the Buck ets,
|
|
answer'd, He car'd not if all the Houses in Town were o'Fire: For
|
|
which he receiv'd a Bucket of Water on his impudent Face. This was a
|
|
fit Reward, as it was near at Hand and took up a little Time to give
|
|
it, but I doubt not a large Majority of People think with me, that he
|
|
deserves a Punishment much greater and more exemplary.
|
|
_December_ 1. 1733. _Pennsilvanus_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, December 20, 1733
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Queries on a Pennsylvania Militia_
|
|
|
|
B. Franklin,
|
|
_Thee art desired to insert the following Queries in the_
|
|
Gazette, _for the Consideration of People_.
|
|
|
|
Whether it is not a great Disadvantage to the _French_, and a
|
|
great Discouragement to their Colonies on this Continent, that from
|
|
the Mouth of _Missisipi_ to St. _Lawrence_ they have no Ports to the
|
|
Sea, for the Benefit of Trade; but see them all in the Hands of the
|
|
_English_, for 1500 Miles; tho' they possess a fine Country back of
|
|
the same Extent?
|
|
|
|
Whether the Possession of the Governments of _N. Y. J. and P._
|
|
would not be very convenient for them, as well on Account of the
|
|
Plenty of Provisions raised here, as for our Rivers which run far
|
|
back towards their present Settlements?
|
|
|
|
Whether it is not possible for our Pilots to be compell'd to
|
|
bring armed Vessels up this River?
|
|
|
|
Whether Vessels do not oftentimes turn the Point in Sight of
|
|
this Town, before we hear of their being in the River?
|
|
|
|
Whether if this Town could be surpriz'd, there is not Plate,
|
|
Clocks, Watches and other rich Goods in it, sufficient to make it
|
|
worth their While that attempt?
|
|
|
|
Whether, considering our present Circumstances, any great
|
|
Number of Men would be necessary for such an Enterprize, or whether a
|
|
moderate Number would run any great Risque in it?
|
|
|
|
Whether they who are against fortifying their Coun try against
|
|
an Enemy, ought not, by the same Principle to be against shutting and
|
|
locking their Doors a Nights?
|
|
|
|
Whether it be not as just to shoot an Enemy who comes to
|
|
destroy my Country, and deprive the People of their Substance, Lives
|
|
and Liberties, as to sit (being either Judge or Juryman) and condemn
|
|
a Man to Death for breaking open a House, or taking a Purse?
|
|
|
|
Whether there was not formerly a People, who possessed a large
|
|
and good Land, where there was plenty of every Thing; and who lived
|
|
_after the Manner of the Zidonians, careless, quiet, and secure_?
|
|
Whether this was not an Invitation to an Enemy? And what was the
|
|
Consequence? See Judges 18.
|
|
|
|
Whether the _French_ Soldiers are a good, friendly, harmless
|
|
Sort of People; or whether they are not composed of the Scum, the
|
|
most profligate, wicked, and abandoned of the Nation?
|
|
|
|
Whether, if they were in Possession of these Governments, and
|
|
quarter'd upon the Inhabitants, they would out of Honesty and Scruple
|
|
of Conscience, forbear to take any Thing which was not their own?
|
|
And out of Modesty and Bashfulness, forbear to ravish any of our
|
|
Wives and Daughters? Or whether they would not do as they did, when
|
|
they overrun _Holland_ in 1675?
|
|
|
|
Whether we are sure that if they should attempt to abuse our
|
|
Women, our Men could be quiet and peaceable Witnesses of it; and that
|
|
Attempts to rescue and prevent, would not occasion frequent and daily
|
|
Murders here, as well as in _Holland_ aforesaid?
|
|
|
|
Whether they would not take as much Pride in deflouring
|
|
_Quaker_ Girls, as the _English_ did in the Nuns of the Town they
|
|
took in _Spain_?
|
|
|
|
Whether from the Purity of our Lives and the Sanctity of our
|
|
Manners, we have any more Reason to expect the immediate Protection
|
|
of Heaven than the rest of our Neighbours?
|
|
|
|
Whether the ancient Story of the Man, who sat down and prayed
|
|
his Gods to lift his Cart out of the Mire , hath not a very good
|
|
Moral?
|
|
|
|
|
|
Whether 500 disciplined Men well armed, are not able to beat an
|
|
unarm'd, unheaded, undisciplined, and affrighted Mob of 5000?
|
|
|
|
Whether, if it were known that we fortifyed and exercised
|
|
ourselves, it would not contribute towards discouraging an Enemy from
|
|
attacking us?
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, March 6, 1733/4
|
|
|
|
|
|
_On Constancy_
|
|
|
|
------ _Hi mores baec duri immota_ Catonis
|
|
_Secta fuit, servare modum, finemque tenere,
|
|
Naturamque sequi, patriaeque impendere vitam_. Lucan.
|
|
|
|
When I have sometimes observ'd Men of Wit and Learning, in
|
|
Spite of their excellent natural and acquir'd Qualifications, fail of
|
|
obtaining that Regard and Esteem with Mankind, which their Inferiors
|
|
in point of Understanding frequently arrive at, I have, upon a slight
|
|
Reflection, been apt to think, that it was owing to the ill Judgment,
|
|
Malice, or Envy of their Acquaintance: But of late two or three
|
|
flagrant Instances of this kind have put me upon thinking and
|
|
deliberating more maturely, and I find within the Compass of my
|
|
Observation the greatest part of those fine Men have been ruined for
|
|
want of _CONSTANCY_, a Virtue never too highly priz'd, and whose true
|
|
Worth is by few rightly understood.
|
|
|
|
A Man remarkably wavering and inconstant, who goes through with
|
|
no Enterprize, adheres to no Purpose that he has resolv'd on, whose
|
|
Courage is surmounted by the most trifling Obstacles, whose Judgment
|
|
is at any time byass'd by his Fears, whose trembling and disturb'd
|
|
Imagination will at every Turn suggest to him Difficulties and
|
|
Dangers that actually have no Existence, and enlarge those that have;
|
|
A Man, I say, of this Stamp, whatever natural and acquir'd Qual ities
|
|
he may have, can never be a truly useful Member of a Common-wealth, a
|
|
sincere or amiable Friend, or a formidable Enemy; and when he is once
|
|
incapable of bearing either of these Characters, 'tis no Wonder he is
|
|
contemn'd and disregarded by Men of all Ranks and Conditions.
|
|
|
|
Without Steadiness or Perseverance no Virtue can long subsist;
|
|
and however honest and well-meaning a Man's Principles may be, the
|
|
Want of this is sufficient to render them ineffectual, and useless to
|
|
himself or others. Nor can a Man pretend to enjoy or impart the
|
|
lasting Sweets of a strict and glorious Friendship, who has not
|
|
Solidity enough to despise the malicious Misrepresentations
|
|
frequently made use of to disturb it, and which never fail of Success
|
|
where a mutual Esteem is not founded upon the solid Basis of
|
|
Constancy and Virtue. An Intimacy of this sort, contracted by
|
|
chance, or the Caprice of an unstable Man, is liable to the most
|
|
violent Shocks, and even an intire Ruin, from very trifling Causes.
|
|
Such a Man's Incapacity for Friendship, makes all that know his
|
|
Character absolutely indifferent to him: His known Fickleness of
|
|
Temper renders him too inconsiderable to be fear'd as a Foe, or
|
|
caress'd as a Friend.
|
|
|
|
I may venture to say there never was a Man eminently famous but
|
|
what was distinguish'd by this very Qualification; and few if any can
|
|
live comfortably even in a private Life without it; for a Man who has
|
|
no End in View, no Design to pursue, is like an irresolute Master of
|
|
a Ship at Sea, that can fix upon no one Port to steer her to, and
|
|
consequently can call not one Wind favourable to his Wishes.
|
|
|
|
'Tis by his firm and unshaken Adherence to his Country's Cause,
|
|
his constant Bravery in her Defence, and his burying himself but in
|
|
her Ruins, that the rigid and severe _Cato_ shines thro' those
|
|
admirable Lines of _Lucan_, of which my Motto is a part, superior to
|
|
the learn'd and eloquent _Cicero_, the great and majestick _Pompey_,
|
|
or the mighty and invincible _Caesar_ himself. This is alone what
|
|
could move the Poet to set him in Competition with the Gods
|
|
themselves, and will transmit him down to latest Posterity with the
|
|
highest Veneration and Honour.
|
|
|
|
To come nearer to our own Times; 'Tis the extraordinary
|
|
Constancy of _Charles_ XII. of _Sweden_, which makes up the most
|
|
admirable and inimitable Part of his Character: His severe and
|
|
impartial Distribution of Justice in his Army, and that fierce and
|
|
resolute Speech with which he broke up his Council, _Gentlemen, I
|
|
have resolved never to engage in an unjust War, but never to finish
|
|
one that is founded upon Justice and Right, but by the Destruction of
|
|
my Enemies:_ these and such like Instances of his Steadiness and
|
|
Perseverance in the Pursuit of Justice, have deservedly made him
|
|
esteem'd the Wonder of his Age.
|
|
|
|
King _Charles_ II. of _England_, was doubtless a Man of great
|
|
Understanding: His acquir'd Qualities far surpass'd those of
|
|
_Cromwell_, and his natural Talents at least equal'd them: He came to
|
|
rule over a People, formidable to all _Europe_ for their Bravery, and
|
|
exceedingly prepossessed in his Favour; he had learn'd to bear
|
|
Misfortune by many Years Exile, and numerous Hazards and
|
|
Difficulties: With these Advantages how great and glorious might he
|
|
have made his Reign, by the Happiness, Content and Security of his
|
|
People! 'Tis however undeniable, that the _English_ never were less
|
|
happy, or less regarded by their Neighbours, than during his Reign.
|
|
The Reason is obvious; his Inconstancy and Indolence laid him open to
|
|
every trifling Project, every self-interested Scheme, that an
|
|
avaritious or revengeful Minister or Mistress could suggest to him
|
|
for their own sinister Ends. 'Tis this has given many Occasion to
|
|
think, that he acted thro'out his whole Reign upon no Principles and
|
|
Maxims, and had no one Design in View.
|
|
|
|
_Cromwel_ came to the supreme Authority with few of these
|
|
Advantages, and against the Will of the whole Nation, except a few
|
|
Fanaticks in the Army; but his constant and resolute Carriage, which
|
|
was the Effect of his keeping one principal End in view, surmounted
|
|
all Obstacles: 'Twas this, and this alone, which rais'd him so far
|
|
above the Malice of his Enemies, or the Expectation of his Friends;
|
|
and gain'd him that high Character from a judicious Historian, _That
|
|
never Man chose his Party with more Judgment, and executed his
|
|
Designs with more Constancy and Vigour_. By virtue of this Constancy
|
|
the _English_ Nation under him arriv'd to that Pitch of Grandeur, as
|
|
to become a Terror and Dread to their Enemies, and the greatest
|
|
Protection to their Allies. 'Tis this steady Perseverance that
|
|
render'd him the Center of the different Factions and Interests in
|
|
which _England_ was at that time embroil'd, that secur'd his former
|
|
Friends and Adherents to his Interest, and deter'd his Foes from
|
|
attempting to undermine his Authority.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 4, 1734
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Death of Infants_
|
|
|
|
_Ostendunt Terris hunc tantum Fata, neque ultra
|
|
Esse sinunt_. -------- Virgil.
|
|
|
|
It has been observ'd Sir _William Petty_ in his _Political
|
|
Arithmetick_, that one half of Mankind, which are born into this
|
|
World, die, before they arrive to the age of _Sixteen_, and that an
|
|
half of the remaining part never measure out the short Term of
|
|
_Thirty_ Years. That this Observation is pretty just, every
|
|
inquisitive Person may be satisfied by comparing the several Bills of
|
|
Mortality, published in _Europe_, for some Years past; even a cursory
|
|
View of any common Burial-place may, in a great measure evidence the
|
|
Truth of it.
|
|
|
|
Many Arguments, to prove a _Future State_, have been drawn from
|
|
the unequal Lot of good and bad Men upon Earth, but no one seems to
|
|
carry a greater Degree of Probability in it, than the foregoing
|
|
Observation. -- , To see Virtue languish and repine, to see Vice
|
|
prosperous and triumphant, to see a _Dives_ faring deliciously every
|
|
Day, and rioting in all the Excess of Luxury and Wantonness; to see a
|
|
_Lazarus_ poor, hungry, naked, and full of Sores, lying at his Door,
|
|
and denied even the Crumbs that fall from his Table, the Portion of
|
|
his Dogs, which Dogs are more charitable, more human than their
|
|
Master: Such a View, I confess, raises in us a violent Presumption
|
|
that there is another State of Retribution, where the Just and the
|
|
Unjust will be equally punished or rewarded by an impartial Judge.
|
|
On the other hand, when we reflect on the vast Numbers of Infants,
|
|
that just struggle into Life, then weep and die, and at the same time
|
|
consider, that it can be in no wise consistent with the Justice and
|
|
Wisdom of an infinite Being, to create to no end, we may very
|
|
reasonably conclude, that those animated Machines, those _Men_ in
|
|
_miniature_, who know no Difference between Good and Evil, who are
|
|
incapable of any good Offices towards their Fellow-Creatures, or of
|
|
serving their Maker, were made for good and wise Designs and
|
|
Purposes, which Purposes, and Designs transcend all the Limits of our
|
|
Ideas and all our present Capacities to conceive. Should an able and
|
|
expert Artificer employ all his Time and his Skill in contriving and
|
|
framing an exquisite Piece of _Clock-work_, which, when he had
|
|
brought it to the utmost Perfection Wit and Art were capable of, and
|
|
just set it a-going, he should suddenly dash it to pieces; would not
|
|
every wise Man naturally infer, that his intense Application had
|
|
disturb'd his Brain and impair'd his Reason?
|
|
|
|
Let us now contemplate the Body of an Infant, that curious
|
|
Engine of Divine Workmanship. What a rich and artful Structure of
|
|
Flesh upon the solid and well compacted Foundation of Bones! What
|
|
curious Joints and Hinges, on which the Limbs are moved to and fro!
|
|
What an inconceivable Variety of Nerves, Veins, Arteries, Fibres and
|
|
little invisible parts are found in every Member! What various
|
|
Fluids, Blood and Juices run thro' and agitate the innumerable
|
|
slender Tubes, the hollow Strings and Strainers of the Body! What
|
|
millions of folding Doors are fixed within, to stop those red or
|
|
transparent Rivulets in their course, either to prevent their Return
|
|
backwards, or else as a Means to swell the Muscles and move the
|
|
Limbs! What endless contrivances to secure Life, to nourish Nature,
|
|
and to propagate the same to future Animals! Can we now imagine
|
|
after such a Survey, that so wise, so good and merciful a Creator
|
|
should produce _Myriads_ of such exquisite Machines to no other End
|
|
or Purpose, but to be deposited in the dark Chambers of the Grave,
|
|
where each of the Dead lie in their cold Mansions, in Beds of
|
|
Darkness and Dust. The Shadows of a long Evening are stretch'd over
|
|
them, the Curtains of a deep Midnight are drawn around them, _The
|
|
Worm lies under them, and the Worm covers them_. No! the Notion of
|
|
Annihilation has in it something so shocking and absurd, Reason
|
|
should despise it; rather let us believe, that when they drop this
|
|
earthly Vehicle they assume an Aetherial one, and become the
|
|
Inhabitants of some more glorious Region. May they not help to
|
|
people that infinite Number of _Starry_ and _Planetary_ Worlds that
|
|
roll above us: may they not become our better _Genii_, our Guardian
|
|
Angels, watch round our Bed and our Couch, direct our wandring Paths
|
|
thro' the Maze and Labyrinth of Life, and at length conduct us safe,
|
|
even us, who were the Instruments of their passing thro' this
|
|
_Valley_ of Sorrow and Death, to a Land of Peace and the Mountains of
|
|
_Paradise_? -- But these are things that belong to the Provinces of
|
|
Light and immortality, and lie far beyond our mortal Ken. --
|
|
|
|
I was led into this Train of thinking by the Death of a
|
|
desireable Child, whose Beauty is now turning a pace into Corruption,
|
|
and all the Loveliness of its Countenance fled for ever. Death sits
|
|
heavy upon it, and the Sprightliness and Vigour of Life is perished
|
|
in every Feature and in every Limb. If the foregoing Reflections
|
|
should urge any one forward in the Paths of Vertue, or yield any
|
|
Consolation to those in the like Circumstances, and help to divert
|
|
the Stream of their Sorow into a better Channel, I shall hope my
|
|
Thoughts have been employ'd to good Purpose. When Nature gave us
|
|
Tears, she gave us leave to weep. A long Separation from those who
|
|
are so near a-kin to us in Flesh and Blood, will touch the Heart in a
|
|
painful Place, and awaken the tenderest Springs of Sorrow. The
|
|
Sluices must be allowed to be held open a little; _Nature_ seems to
|
|
demand it as a Debt to _Love_. When _Lazarus_ died, _Jesus_ groaned
|
|
and wept.
|
|
|
|
I shall only add by way of Conclusion an _Epitaph_ upon an
|
|
Infant: It is taken from a Tombstone in a little obscure Village in
|
|
_England_, that seems to have very little Title to any thing so
|
|
elegantly poetical, which renders it the more remarkable.
|
|
|
|
_Read this and weep -- but not for me;
|
|
Lament thy longer Misery:
|
|
My Life was short, my Grief the less;
|
|
Blame not my Hast to Happiness!_
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 20, 1734
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Parody and Reply to a Religious Meditation_
|
|
|
|
_By being too nice in the Choice of the little Pieces sent me
|
|
by my Correspondents to be printed, I had almost discouraged them
|
|
from writing to me any more. For the Time to come, and that my Paper
|
|
may become still more generally agreeable, I have resolved not to
|
|
regard my own Humour so much in what I print; and thereupon I give my
|
|
Readers the two following Letters_.
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Franklin_,
|
|
You gave us in your last a melancholy Account of Human Life, in
|
|
the Meditation upon that Subject. The gloomy and splenetick Part of
|
|
your Readers like it much; but as for me, I do not love to see the
|
|
dark Side of Things; and besides, I do not think such Reflections
|
|
upon Life altogether just. The World is a very good World, and if we
|
|
behave our selves well, we shall doubtless do very well in it. I
|
|
never thought even _Job_ in the right, when he repin'd that the Days
|
|
of a Man are _few_ and _full of Trouble_; for certainly both these
|
|
Things cannot be together just Causes of Complaint; if our Days are
|
|
full of Trouble, the fewer of 'em the better. But as for the Author
|
|
of the Meditation above-mention'd, besides what he says in common
|
|
with _Job_, he seems to complain in several respects very weakly, and
|
|
without the least shadow of Reason; in particular, That he cannot be
|
|
alive now, and ten Years ago, and ten Years hence, at the same time:
|
|
With very little Variation, as you shall see, his elegant Expressions
|
|
will serve for a Child who laments that he cannot eat his Cake and
|
|
have his Cake.
|
|
|
|
_All the few days we live are full of Vanity; and our
|
|
choicest Pleasures sprinkled with bitterness:_
|
|
|
|
All the few Cakes we have are puffed up with Yeast; and the
|
|
nicest Gingerbread is spotted with Flyshits!
|
|
|
|
_The time that's past is vanish'd like a dream; and that which
|
|
is to come is not yet at all:_
|
|
|
|
The Cakes that we have eaten are no more to be seen; and those
|
|
which are to come are not yet baked.
|
|
|
|
_The present we are in stays but for a moment, and then flies
|
|
away, and returns no more:_
|
|
|
|
The present Mouthful is chewed but a little while, and then is
|
|
swallowed down, and comes up no more.
|
|
|
|
_Already we are dead to the years we have liv'd; and shall
|
|
never live them over again:
|
|
|
|
Already we have digested the Cakes we have eaten, and shall
|
|
never eat them over again.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_But the longer we live, the shorter is our life; and in the
|
|
end we become a little lump of clay_.
|
|
|
|
And the more we eat, the less is the Piece remaining; and in
|
|
the end the whole will become Sir-reverence!
|
|
|
|
_O vain, and miserable world! how sadly true is all this
|
|
story!_
|
|
|
|
O vain and miserable Cake-shop! _&c_.
|
|
|
|
Away with all such insignificant Meditations. I am for taking
|
|
_Solomon_'s Advice, _eating Bread with Joy, and drinking Wine with a
|
|
merry Heart_. Let us rejoice and bless God, that we are neither
|
|
Oysters, Hogs, nor Dray-Horses; and not stand repining that He has
|
|
not made us Angels; lest we be found unworthy of that share of
|
|
Happiness He has thought fit to allow us.
|
|
_I am, Yours,_ &c.
|
|
S. M.
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
Seeing a very _melancholy_ Piece in your Paper of last Week,
|
|
asking your Pardon, I think we have enough of that Humour in the
|
|
World already, without your Addition: I have therefore written the
|
|
following few Lines in order to palliate it. And as that may be very
|
|
acceptable to some of your Readers, this may to some others, if you
|
|
think fit to give it a Place in your next.
|
|
_I am, Yours, &c_.
|
|
J. Anonymous.
|
|
|
|
_Most happy are we, the sons of men, above all other creatures,
|
|
who are born to behold the glorious rays of the sun, and to enjoy the
|
|
pleasant fruits of the earth_.
|
|
|
|
_With what pleasure did our parents first receive us, first to
|
|
hear us cry, then to see us smile, and afterwards to behold us
|
|
growing up and thriving in the world_.
|
|
|
|
_By their good examples and a vertuous education, they put us
|
|
in the right path to happiness, as all good parents do;_
|
|
|
|
_Then we, by making a right use of that share of reason with
|
|
which God hath endued us, spend our days in gaining and enjoying the
|
|
blessings of life, which are innumerable._
|
|
|
|
_If we meet with crosses and disappointments, they are but as
|
|
sowr sauce to the sweet meats we enjoy, and the one hath not a right
|
|
relish without the other._
|
|
|
|
|
|
_As time passes away, it carries our past pains with it, and
|
|
returns no more; and the longer we live the fewer misfortunes we have
|
|
to go through._
|
|
|
|
_If death takes us off in the heighth of our prosperity, it
|
|
takes us from the pains which may ensue._
|
|
|
|
_And a great blessing attends old age, for by that we are
|
|
naturally wean'd from the pleasures of youth, and a more solid
|
|
pleasure takes place, The thoughts of our having so far escaped all
|
|
the hazards that attend mankind, and a contemplation on all our
|
|
former good actions._
|
|
|
|
_And if we have done all the good we could, we have done all
|
|
that we ought, and death is no terror to a good man._
|
|
|
|
_And after we are far declined, with hearty praises and thanks
|
|
we recommend our soul to God, the eternal Being from whom we received
|
|
it._
|
|
|
|
_Then comes the grave, and the sweet sleep of death, pleasant
|
|
as a bed is to a weary traveller after a long journey_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, August 8, 1734
|
|
|
|
|
|
_A Thunderstorm_
|
|
|
|
Sunday last between 7 and 8 in the Evening we had the most
|
|
terrible Gust of Wind and Rain accompanied with Thunder and
|
|
Lightning, that can be remembred in these Parts: It blew down several
|
|
Stacks of Chimneys, uncovered several Houses, some wholly and others
|
|
in Part; and quite demolished some weak Buildings. The Violence of
|
|
it did not continue long, but the Storm was of wide Extent, for we
|
|
have heard of it from _Conestogoe_, from the Mouth of the Bay, and
|
|
from _New-York_: At _Conestogoe_ it was about half an hour before it
|
|
arrived here, but in the Bay it was at near Midnight.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, September 25, 1734
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Murder of a Daughter_
|
|
|
|
Saturday last, at a Court of Oyer and Terminer held here, came
|
|
on the Tryal of a Man and his Wife, who were indicted for the Murder
|
|
of a Daughter which he had by a former Wife, (a Girl of about 14
|
|
Years of Age) by turning her out of Doors, and thereby exposing her
|
|
to such Hardships, as afterwards produced grievous Sickness and
|
|
Lameness; during which, instead of supplying her with Necessaries and
|
|
due Attendance, they treated her with the utmost Cruelty and
|
|
Barbarity, suffering her to lie and rot in her Nastiness, and when
|
|
she cried for Bread giving her into her Mouth with a Iron Ladle, her
|
|
own Excrements to eat, with a great Number of other Circumstances of
|
|
the like Nature, so that she languished and at length died. The
|
|
Evidence against them was numerous, and in many Particulars positive;
|
|
but the Opinion of the Physician who had visited the Child, that
|
|
whatever Usage might be given her, the Distemper she laboured under
|
|
was such, as would of itself in all Probability have ended her Life
|
|
about the Time she died, it is thought weighed so much with the Jury,
|
|
that they brought in their Verdict only _Man-slaughter_. A Verdict
|
|
which the Judge, (in a short but pathetic Speech to the Prisoners
|
|
before the Sentence) told them was _extreamly favourable_; and that,
|
|
as the Relation of their hitherto unheard-of Barbarity had in the
|
|
highest Manner shocked all that were present; so, if they were not
|
|
perfectly stupified, the inward Reflection upon their own enormous
|
|
Crimes, must be more terrible and shocking to them, than the
|
|
Punishment they were to undergo: For that they had not only acted
|
|
contrary to the particular Laws of all Nations, but had even broken
|
|
the Universal Law of Nature; since there are no Creatures known, how
|
|
savage, wild, and fierce soever, that have not implanted in them a
|
|
natural Love and Care of their tender Offspring, and that will not
|
|
even hazard Life in its Protection and Defence. -- But this is not
|
|
the only Instance the present Age has afforded, of the
|
|
incomprehensible Insensibility Dram-drinking is capable of producing.
|
|
-- They were sentenced to be burnt in the Hand, which was accordingly
|
|
executed in Court, upon them both, but first upon the Man, who
|
|
offer'd to receive another Burning if so be his Wife might be
|
|
excused; but was told the Law would not allow it.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, October 24, 1734
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Variant Accounts of a Battle_
|
|
|
|
_As there is nothing more partial than the Accounts given of
|
|
Battles, all of them lessening or magnifying the Loss or Gain on
|
|
either Side, just as the Writers are affected; we find it necessary
|
|
to publish several Accounts on both Sides, when there has been any
|
|
important Action, that so the Reader may be the better enabled to
|
|
form a true Judgment: And therefore to the Relations we have already
|
|
publish'd of the late important Battle in_ Italy, _we shall add the
|
|
following._
|
|
|
|
_Guastalla, Sept_. 18. Long had the brave Count Koningsegg
|
|
meditated Revenge for the fatal Battle of Parma, and Relief for the
|
|
Honour of the Imperial Arms, by giving the Allies some desperate
|
|
Blow. He had made several Attempts, but was constantly betrayed; his
|
|
Designs always took Air, and he could never discover the Traitors: At
|
|
last, however, he has carried them into Execution. There is an old
|
|
Saying in Lombardy, That if a Man would execute any Grand Design, he
|
|
must take Care to possess himself of the Seraglio, (a Spot of Ground
|
|
between Mantua and the Po). Count Merci neglected this Advice; but
|
|
Count Koningsegg thought it very just and solid, and posted the 4000
|
|
Croatians there, supported by three Regiments of Horse under the
|
|
Command of General Berlinger, whom he ordered to act along the Oglio
|
|
as Opportunity should offer. On the 4th, Count Koningsegg ordered
|
|
the whole Army to be upon its Guard, and every Man in his Post, as if
|
|
he had received Notice that he should be attacked by the Allies.
|
|
About Five o'Clock in the Evening, he gave Orders, at the same time
|
|
that he discovered to them the Design he was going to execute. The
|
|
Guards were doubled, and Notice was given, that no Person should stir
|
|
out of the Camp without Leave. The Retreat was beat, as usual, that
|
|
they might hear it in the Enemy's Camp; and the Trumpets having
|
|
flourished as at other times, every one retired. At Midnight the
|
|
Army began its March in three Columns, and in Order of Battle, the
|
|
Soldiers only in their Wastecoats, without Coats or Knapsacks; _We
|
|
shall find enough in the Enemy's Camp_, said their Officers to them,
|
|
_if you have any Hearts_. 13,000 Foot and 6 Regiments of Horse
|
|
advanced first towards the Secchia above Quistello, and forded it,
|
|
there not being above three Foot Water. The Count de Waldebeck staid
|
|
with his Brigade facing Quistello, to make a faint Attack there, as
|
|
soon as he should hear that they had surprized the Head-Quarters at
|
|
Bondanello. The French had at Quistello, (which they had well
|
|
retrenched) 1000 Men and nine Pieces of Cannon; and they had at that
|
|
time above sixty Officers there. As soon as the Germans had passed
|
|
the Secchia, they fell upon the Marshal de Broglio's Quarters, who
|
|
was so sound asleep, that our Granadiers were in his Court-Yard,
|
|
before he was well awake: Fifty Men and the Officers of the Guard
|
|
made some Resistance, to give him Time to make his Escape at the back
|
|
Door in his Shirt, with his Breeches in one Hand, and his two Sons in
|
|
the other. The Guard then surrendered; and we advanced to the Bridge
|
|
over-against Quistello, and carried that Quarter; but here the Count
|
|
de Waldebeck was killed, greatly lamented. During these
|
|
Preliminaries, the Army advanced apace, and fell upon the Count de
|
|
Broglio's Body, which consisted of 28 or 30 Battalions, who fled in
|
|
their Shirts and left their very Arms behind them. The brave
|
|
Regiments of the King and Picardie were among these; every Man made
|
|
the best Shift he could for himself, and carried the Alarm to the
|
|
Right. The Marshal de Coigny made the Troops under his Command take
|
|
Arms, all in a Hurry and Disorder, and was advancing to the Right;
|
|
but perceiving that the Imperial Army was marching towards him in
|
|
three Columns, he halted and called a Council of War; and the
|
|
Imperialists just then moving towards their Left, it was imagined
|
|
that they would endeavour to cut off the Army's Retreat towards the
|
|
Bridge of Guastalla; and therefore it was instantly resolved to make
|
|
a Retreat that way in the best Order they could. Some Battalions
|
|
were left with Artillery in the neighbouring Cassines, to stop the
|
|
Enemy; but those Troops made but a very slender Resistance, and were
|
|
obliged to yield themselves Prisoners of War. Count Koningsegg
|
|
seeing the Enemy's Disorder on all Sides, sent 10,000 Men this way,
|
|
under the Command of Prince Lewis of Wirtemberg, and advanced towards
|
|
San Benedetto, where were the Head-Quarters of the Savoyards: The
|
|
King of Sardinia made his Escape in his Night-Gown and Slippers; but
|
|
two Regiments of his Troops were cut off from the rest and taken.
|
|
Some Squadrons of Dragoons and the Hussars broke and put into
|
|
Disorder the Enemy's Rear-Guard, who are divided into Bodies of 2 or
|
|
3000 Men each, most of them without Arms, Baggage or Artillery, which
|
|
we hope to cut off and take one after the other; for we are still
|
|
pursuing them. The Booty already taken, amounts to upwards of 15
|
|
Millions of Livres; for we have taken the Arms of one Third of the
|
|
Gallo-Sardinick Army, all the Artillery, 12 or 1500 Waggons, all the
|
|
Baggage, heavy and light, all the Tents; and between 6 and 8000
|
|
Prisoners. There were doubtless 1000 or 1200 of the Enemy killed.
|
|
Never was seen such Confusion. But the Generals who suffered
|
|
themselves to be thus surprized, how will they come off.
|
|
|
|
_Next here follows a more particular Account of the Second
|
|
Battle between the same Armies, which happened on the_ 19_th of_
|
|
Sept. _viz._
|
|
|
|
_Mantua, Sept._ 24. We have here the following Particulars of
|
|
the Battle fought the 19th near Guastalla. Count Konigsegg broke up
|
|
from Luzara the 16th about Nine in the Morning, and at Ten he ordered
|
|
the Enemy, who were posted under Guastalla, to be attack'd by seven
|
|
Battalions of Foot and 12 Companies of General Valpereve and
|
|
Colmenero, who made the Onset in a very brave and intrepid Manner.
|
|
The Enemy pour'd on fresh Troops continually; whereupon our Troops
|
|
were reinforc'd with 17 Companies of Grenadiers and 19 Battallions of
|
|
Foot: Then the Action became general in a Moment, and thereupon we
|
|
order'd 50 Squadrons to engage: The Enemy's Horse were then on a
|
|
Plain, where they were, most advantageously posted behind the
|
|
Cassines, very deep Ditches, and a great many Bushes, from whence
|
|
they made a terrible and constant Fire upon our Men, which prevented
|
|
our knowing their Number. The Generals Valpareve and Colmenero were
|
|
killed in the Beginning of this Attack, as were all the Field
|
|
Officers; so that only one Lieutenant-Colonel was at the Head of the
|
|
seven Battalions who began the Attack. The Prince of Wirtemberg was
|
|
killed in the Middle of this Action, when his Presence was most
|
|
necessary to lead on the Foot. Count Koningsegg then seeing that it
|
|
was impossible for him to break the Enemy's Cavalry, after a
|
|
continual Fire of about six Hours, order'd his Army to retire, which
|
|
they did in so good Order, that the Enemy durst not pursue him; and
|
|
he went and encamped at Luzara, where his Army was encamped the Day
|
|
before. Notwithstanding the great Loss of Officers above-mentioned,
|
|
whereby the Attack was something slackened, and our Troops brought
|
|
into some disorder, our Men did not retire or lose one Inch of
|
|
Ground, till they were ordered to draw off from the Field of Battle.
|
|
The Number of our killed and wounded Men amounts to between 4 and
|
|
6000. For six or seven Hours nothing was to be seen but Fire and
|
|
Sword, Dead and Wounded, and Rivulets of Blood. The Field of Battle
|
|
was indeed left to the Enemy, where they could find nothing to give
|
|
them Occasion to boast of a Victory; for as the Fire on both Sides
|
|
was equally strong and continual, we judge their Loss must be equal
|
|
to ours.
|
|
|
|
The Velt Marshal Konnigsegg has been join'd since the last
|
|
Battle by 4000 Croatians and three Regiments of Horse. His
|
|
Excellency is actually making new Dispositions for another Combat.
|
|
|
|
The Retreat of the Imperial Army was owing to the unhappy Loss
|
|
of the Prince of Wirtemberg, and the Wounds receiv'd by the Generals
|
|
Valpariso and Watchtendonck; most of the prime Officers were also
|
|
disabled, by which means none but Lieutenant-Colonel de Uhlenfeld was
|
|
left to command the seven Battalions engag'd in the heat of Action.
|
|
Our Loss amounts to between 4 or 5000 Men; that of the Enemy must be
|
|
as considerable, if not larger.
|
|
|
|
_Paris, Octo_. 6. By our last Account from Italy the Battle of
|
|
the 19th past was very bloody; for during the Combat wherein the
|
|
Enemy had between 12 and 13000 kill'd and wounded, they sent away 200
|
|
Waggons full of wounded Men; but towards the End, being press'd
|
|
closely, were oblig'd to leave 900 wounded in the Field, whom our
|
|
General had remov'd in order to be taken care of. We reckon between
|
|
6 and 7000 killed and wounded on our Side. After the Battle the
|
|
Enemy intrench'd themselves on the Banks of the Po, over-against
|
|
Burgo-Fort, where they have a Bridge to retire over into the Mantuan
|
|
in case of Occasion.
|
|
|
|
|
|
On the 3d Te Deum was sung in the Church of Notre Dame for the
|
|
signal Victory in Italy.
|
|
|
|
_London, Octo_. 5. Letters from Paris intimate, that his Most
|
|
Christian Majesty has been pleas'd to order 100,000 Crowns to be
|
|
distributed among the Officers who lost their Equipages, when Count
|
|
Koninsegg surpriz'd the Marshal de Broglio's Quarters; and at the
|
|
same Time sent Instructions to Marshal Coigny, to inform him of the
|
|
Number of Officers who had been kill'd in the Surprize, as well as at
|
|
the Battle, in order to settle Pensions upon their Widows and
|
|
Children.
|
|
|
|
A private Letter from Paris, dated the 29th, tells us, that the
|
|
Germans, on the 19th being Sunday, with uncommon Valour attack'd the
|
|
Allies in their Intrenchment at Guastalla. At 10 the whole Armies
|
|
were engaged, Sword in Hand. The Fight lasted till 5 in the
|
|
Afternoon, when the Germans retired, without being pursued, to
|
|
Luzara, and left behind them some Pieces of Cannon, and a few Colours
|
|
and Standards. That 15000 Men were kill'd on both Sides, among them
|
|
800 Officers. That Marshal de Coigny was wounded, M. d'Harcourt lost
|
|
one Arm. 'Tis agreed on all Hands, that the Allies were much
|
|
superior in Number, notwithstanding which, putting the two Actions
|
|
together, the Loss on both Sides was supposed to be equal.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, December 19, 1734
|
|
|
|
|
|
_On Protection of Towns from Fire_
|
|
|
|
_Mr. Franklin,_
|
|
Being old and lame of my Hands, and thereby uncapable of
|
|
assisting my Fellow Citizens, when their Houses are on Fire; I must
|
|
beg them to take in good Part the following Hints on the Subject of
|
|
Fires.
|
|
|
|
In the first Place, as _an Ounce of Prevention is worth a Pound
|
|
of Cure_, I would advise 'em to take Care how they suffer living
|
|
Brands-ends, or Coals in a full Shovel, to be carried out of one Room
|
|
into another, or up or down Stairs, unless in a Warmingpan shut; for
|
|
Scraps of Fire may fall into Chinks, and make no Appearance till
|
|
Midnight; when your Stairs being in Flames, you may be forced, (as I
|
|
once was) to leap out of your Windows, and hazard your Necks to avoid
|
|
being over-roasted.
|
|
|
|
And now we talk of Prevention, where would be the Damage, if,
|
|
to the Act for preventing Fires, by regulating Bakehouses and Coopers
|
|
Shops, a Clause were added to regulate all other Houses in the
|
|
particulars of too shallow Hearths, and the detestable Practice of
|
|
putting wooden Mouldings on each side the Fire Place, which being
|
|
commonly of Heart-of-Pine and full of Turpentine, stand ready to
|
|
flame as soon as a Coal or a small Brand shall roul against them.
|
|
|
|
Once more; If Chimneys were more frequently and more carefully
|
|
clean'd, some Fires might thereby be prevented. I have known foul
|
|
Chimneys burn most furiously a few Days after they were swept: People
|
|
in Confidence that they are clean, making large Fires. Every Body
|
|
among us is allow'd to sweep Chimneys, that please to undertake that
|
|
Business; and if a Chimney fires thro' fault of the Sweeper, the
|
|
Owner pays the Fine, and the Sweeper goes free. This Thing is not
|
|
right. Those who undertake Sweeping of Chimneys, and employ Servants
|
|
for that Purpose, ought to be licensed by the Mayor; and if any
|
|
Chimney fires and flames out 15 Days after Sweeping, the Fine should
|
|
be paid by the Sweeper; for it is his Fault.
|
|
|
|
We have at present got Engines enough in the Town, but I
|
|
question, whether in many Parts of the Town, Water enough can be had
|
|
to keep them going for half an Hour together. It seems to me some
|
|
Publick Pumps are wanting; but that I submit to better Judgments.
|
|
|
|
As to our Conduct in the Affair of Extinguishing Fires, tho' we
|
|
do not want Hands or Good-will, yet we seem to want Order and Method,
|
|
and therefore I believe I cannot do better than to offer for our
|
|
Imitation, the Example of a City in a Neigbouring Province. There
|
|
is, as I am well inform'd, a Club or Society of active Men belonging
|
|
to each Fire Engine; whose Business is to attend all Fires with it
|
|
whenever they happen; and to work it once a Quarter, and see it kept
|
|
in order: Some of these are to handle the Firehooks, and others the
|
|
Axes, which are always kept with the Engine; and for this Service
|
|
they are consider'd in an Abatement or Exemption in the Taxes. In
|
|
Time of Fire, they are commanded by Officers appointed by Law, called
|
|
_Firewards_, who are distinguish'd by a Red Staff of five Feet long,
|
|
headed with a Brass Flame of 6 Inches; And being Men of Prudence and
|
|
Authority, they direct the opening and stripping of Roofs by the
|
|
Ax-Men, the pulling down burning Timbers by the Hook-men, and the
|
|
playing of the Engines, and command the making of Lanes, &c. and they
|
|
are impowered to require Assistance for the Removing of Goods out of
|
|
Houses on fire or in Danger of Fire, and to appoint Guards for
|
|
securing such Goods; and Disobedience, to these Officers in any, at
|
|
such Times, is punished by a Fine of 40 s. or Ten Days Imprisonment.
|
|
These Officers, with the Men belonging to the Engine, at their
|
|
Quarterly Meetings, discourse of Fires, of the Faults committed at
|
|
some, the good Management in some Cases at others, and thus
|
|
communicating their Thoughts and Experience they grow wise in the
|
|
Thing, and know how to command and to execute in the best manner upon
|
|
every Emergency. Since the Establishment of this Regulation, it
|
|
seems there has been no extraordinary Fire in that Place; and I wish
|
|
there never may be any here. But they suffer'd before they made such
|
|
a Regulation, and so must we; for _Englishmen_ feel but cannot see;
|
|
as the _Italian_ says of us. And it has pleased God, that in the
|
|
Fires we have hitherto had, all the bad Circumstances have never
|
|
happened together, such as dry Season, high Wind, narrow Street, and
|
|
little or low Water: which perhaps tends to make us secure in our own
|
|
Minds; but if a Fire with those Circumstances, which God forbid,
|
|
should happen, we should afterwards be careful enough.
|
|
|
|
Let me say one thing more, and I will be silent. I could wish,
|
|
that either Tiles would come in use for a Covering to Buildings; or
|
|
else that those who build, would make their Roofs more safe to walk
|
|
upon, by carrying the Wall above the Eves, in the Manner of the new
|
|
Buildings in _London_, and as Mr. _Turner's_ House in _Front-Street_,
|
|
or Mr. _Nichols_'s in _Chesnut-Street_, are built; which I conceive
|
|
would tend considerably to their Preservation.
|
|
|
|
Let others communicate their Thoughts as freely as I have done
|
|
mine, and perhaps something useful may be drawn from the Whole.
|
|
_I am yours,_ &c.
|
|
_A. A._
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, February 4, 1734/5
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Self-Denial Not the Essence of Virtue_
|
|
|
|
To the Printer of the Gazette.
|
|
|
|
_That SELF-DENIAL is not the ESSENCE of VIRTUE_.
|
|
|
|
It is commonly asserted, that without _Self-Denial_ there is no
|
|
Virtue, and that the greater the _Self-Denial_ the greater the
|
|
Virtue.
|
|
|
|
If it were said, that he who cannot deny himself in any Thing
|
|
he inclines to, tho' he knows it will be to his Hurt, has not the
|
|
Virtue of _Resolution_ or _Fortitude_, it would be intelligible
|
|
enough; but as it stands it seems obscure or erroneous.
|
|
|
|
Let us consider some of the Virtues singly.
|
|
|
|
If a Man has no inclination to _wrong_ People in his Dealings,
|
|
if he feels no Temptation to it, and therefore never does it; can it
|
|
be said that he is not a just Man? If he is a just Man, has he not
|
|
the Virtue of Justice?
|
|
|
|
If to a certain Man, idle Diversions have nothing in them that
|
|
is tempting, and therefore he never relaxes his Application to
|
|
Business for their Sake; is he not an Industrious Man? Or has he not
|
|
the Virtue of Industry?
|
|
|
|
I might in like manner instance in all the rest of the Virtues:
|
|
But to make the Thing short, As it is certain, that the more we
|
|
strive against the Temptation to any Vice, and practise the contrary
|
|
Virtue, the weaker will that Temptation be, and the stronger will be
|
|
that Habit; 'till at length the Temptation has no Force, or entirely
|
|
vanishes: Does it follow from thence, that in our Endeavours to
|
|
overcome Vice, we grow continually less and less Virtuous; till at
|
|
length we have no Virtue at all?
|
|
|
|
If Self-Denial be the Essence of Virtue, then it follows, that
|
|
the Man who is naturally temperate, just, &c. is not virtuous; but
|
|
that in order to be virtuous, he must, in spight of his natural
|
|
Inclinations, wrong his Neighbours, and eat and drink, &c. to excess.
|
|
|
|
But perhaps it may be said, that by the Word _Virtue_ in the
|
|
above Assertion, is meant, _Merit_; and so it should stand thus;
|
|
Without Self-Denial there is no Merit; and the greater the
|
|
Self-Denial the greater the Merit.
|
|
|
|
The Self-denial here meant, must be when our Inclinations are
|
|
towards Vice, or else it would still be Nonsense.
|
|
|
|
By Merit is understood, Desert; and when we say a Man merits,
|
|
we mean that he deserves Praise or Reward.
|
|
|
|
We do not pretend to merit any thing of God, for he is above
|
|
our Services; and the Benefits he confers on us, are the Effects of
|
|
his Goodness and Bounty.
|
|
|
|
All our Merit then is with regard to one another, and from one
|
|
to another.
|
|
|
|
Taking then the Assertion as it last stands,
|
|
|
|
If a Man does me a Service from a natural benevolent
|
|
Inclination, does he deserve less of me than another who does me the
|
|
like Kindness against his Inclination?
|
|
|
|
If I have two Journeymen, one naturally industrious, the other
|
|
idle, but both perform a Days Work equally good, ought I to give the
|
|
latter the most Wages?
|
|
|
|
Indeed, lazy Workmen are commonly observ'd to be more
|
|
extravagant in their Demands than the Industrious; for if they have
|
|
not more for their Work, they cannot live so well: But tho' it be
|
|
true to a Proverb, _That Lazy Folks take the most Pains_, does it
|
|
follow that they deserve the most Money?
|
|
|
|
If you were to employ Servants in Affairs of Trust, would you
|
|
not bid more for one you knew was naturally honest, than for one
|
|
naturally roguish, but who had lately acted honestly? For Currents
|
|
whose natural Channel is damm'd up, (till the new Course is by Time
|
|
worn sufficiently deep and become natural,) are apt to break their
|
|
Banks. If one Servant is more valuable than another, has he not more
|
|
Merit than the other? And yet this is not on Account of Superior
|
|
Self-denial.
|
|
|
|
Is a Patriot not praise-worthy, if Publick Spirit is natural to
|
|
him?
|
|
|
|
Is a Pacing-Horse less valuable for being a natural Pacer?
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nor in my Opinion has any Man less Merit for having in general
|
|
natural virtuous Inclinations.
|
|
|
|
The Truth is, that Temperance, Justice, Charity, &c. are
|
|
Virtues, whether practis'd with or against our Inclinations; and the
|
|
Man who practises them, merits our Love and Esteem: And Self-denial
|
|
is neither good nor bad, but as 'tis apply'd: He that denies a
|
|
Vicious Inclination is Virtuous in proportion to his Resolution, but
|
|
the most perfect Virtue is above all Temptation, such as the Virtue
|
|
of the Saints in Heaven: And he who does a foolish, indecent or
|
|
wicked Thing, meerly because 'tis contrary to his Inclination, (like
|
|
some mad Enthusiasts I have read of, who ran about naked, under the
|
|
Notion of taking up the Cross) is not practising the reasonable
|
|
Science of Virtue, but is lunatick.
|
|
_New-Castle, Feb._ 5. 1734,5.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, February 18, 1734/5
|
|
|
|
|
|
_A Man of Sense_
|
|
|
|
_Mr. Franklin,_
|
|
`Being the other Day near the Meeting-House Corner with some
|
|
Gentlemen, in the open Street, I heard the following Piece of
|
|
Conversation; and penn'd it down as soon as I came home. I am
|
|
confident it varies scarce any thing from what really passed; and as
|
|
it pleased the By-standers, it may possibly please the Publick, if
|
|
you give it a Place in your Paper.
|
|
|
|
`It not being proper to name the Persons discoursing, I shall
|
|
call one of them _Socrates_, his manner of Arguing being in my
|
|
Opinion, somewhat like that of _Socrates_: And, if you please, the
|
|
other may be _Crito_.'
|
|
_I am Yours,_ &c.
|
|
A. A.
|
|
|
|
_Socrates._ Who is that well-dress'd Man that passed by just
|
|
now?
|
|
|
|
_Crito._ He is a Gentleman of this City, esteem'd a _Man of
|
|
Sense_, but not very honest.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_S._ The Appellation of _a Man of Sense _ is of late frequently
|
|
given, and seems to come naturally into the Character of every Man we
|
|
are about to praise: But I am at some Loss to know whether a Man who
|
|
_is not honest_ can deserve it.
|
|
|
|
_C._ Yes, doubtless; There are many vicious Men who are
|
|
nevertheless Men of very good Sense.
|
|
|
|
_S._ You are of Opinion, perhaps, that a Man of Knowledge is _a
|
|
Man of Sense_.
|
|
|
|
_C._ I am really of that Opinion.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Is the Knowledge of Push-pin, or of the Game at Ninepins,
|
|
or of Cards and Dice, or even of Musick and Dancing, sufficient to
|
|
constitute the Character of a Man of Sense?
|
|
|
|
_C._ No certainly; there are many silly People that understand
|
|
these Things tolerably well.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Will the Knowledge of Languages, or of Logic and Rhetoric
|
|
serve to make a Man of Sense.
|
|
|
|
_C._ I think not; for I have known very senseless Fellows to be
|
|
Masters of two or three Languages; and mighty full of their Logic, or
|
|
their Rhetoric.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Perhaps some Men may understand all the Forms and Terms of
|
|
Logic, or all the Figures of Rhetoric, and yet be no more able to
|
|
convince or to perswade, than others who have not learnt those
|
|
Things?
|
|
|
|
_C._ Indeed I believe they may.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Will not the Knowledge of the Mathematicks, Astronomy, and
|
|
Natural Philosophy, those sublime Sciences, give a Right to the
|
|
Character of _a Man of Sense_.
|
|
|
|
_C._ At first Sight I should have thought they might: But upon
|
|
Recollection I must own I have known some Men, Masters of those
|
|
Sciences, who, in the Management of their Affairs, and _Conduct of
|
|
their Lives_, have acted very weakly, I do not mean viciously but
|
|
foolishly; and therefore I cannot find in my Heart to allow 'em the
|
|
Character of _Men of Sense._
|
|
|
|
_S._ It seems then, that no Knowledge will serve to give this
|
|
Character, but the Knowledge of our _true Interest_; that is, of what
|
|
is best to be done in all the Circumstances of Humane Life, in order
|
|
to arrive at our main End in View, HAPPINESS.
|
|
|
|
_C._ I am of the same Opinion. And now, as to the Point in
|
|
Hand, I suppose you will no longer doubt whether a vicious Man may
|
|
deserve the Character of a Man of Sense, since 'tis certain that
|
|
there are many Men who _know_ their true Interest, &c. and are
|
|
therefore _Men of Sense_, but are nevertheless vicious and dishonest
|
|
Men, as appears from the whole Tenour of their Conduct in Life.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Can Vice consist with any Man's true Interest, or
|
|
contribute to his Happiness.
|
|
|
|
_C._ No certainly; for in Proportion as a Man is vicious he
|
|
loses the Favour of God and Man, and brings upon himself many
|
|
Inconveniences, the least of which is capable of marring and
|
|
demolishing his Happiness.
|
|
|
|
_S._ How then does it appear that those vicious Men have the
|
|
Knowledge we have been speaking of, which constitutes _a Man of
|
|
Sense_, since they act directly contrary?
|
|
|
|
_C._ It appears by their Discoursing perfectly well upon the
|
|
Subjects of Vice and Virtue, when they occur in Conversation, and by
|
|
the just Manner in which they express their Thoughts of the
|
|
pernicious Consequences of the one, and the happy Effects of the
|
|
other.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Is it the Knowledge of all the Terms and Expressions
|
|
proper to be used in Discoursing well upon the Subject of making a
|
|
good Shoe, that constitutes a Shoemaker; or is it the Knowing how to
|
|
go about it and do it?
|
|
|
|
_C._ I own it is the latter, and not the former.
|
|
|
|
_S._ And if one who could only _talk finely_ about Shoe-making,
|
|
were to be set to work, would he not presently discover his Ignorance
|
|
in that Art?
|
|
|
|
_C._ He would, I confess.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Can the Man who is only able to talk justly of Virtue and
|
|
Vice, and to say that "Drunkenness, Gluttony and Lewdness destroy a
|
|
Man's Constitution; waste his Time and Substance, and bring him under
|
|
many Misfortunes, (to the Destruction of his Happiness) which the
|
|
contrary Virtues would enable him to avoid;" but notwithstanding his
|
|
talking thus, continues in those Vices; can such a Man deserve the
|
|
Character of a Temperate and Chaste Man? Or does not that Man rather
|
|
deserve it, who having _a thorough Sense_ that what the other has
|
|
said is true, _knows_ also _how_ to resist the Temptation to those
|
|
Vices, and embrace Virtue with a hearty and steady Affection?
|
|
|
|
|
|
_C._ The latter, I acknowledge. And since Virtue is really the
|
|
true Interest of all Men; and some of those who talk well of it, do
|
|
not put it in Practice, I am now inclined to believe they speak only
|
|
by rote, retailing to us what they have pick'd out of the Books or
|
|
Conversation of wise and virtuous Men; but what having never enter'd
|
|
or made any Impression on their Hearts, has therefore no Influence on
|
|
the Conduct of their Lives.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Vicious Men, then, do not appear to have that Knowledge
|
|
which constitutes _the Man of Sense_.
|
|
|
|
_C._ No, I am convinced they do not deserve the Name. However,
|
|
I am afraid, that instead of _defining_ a Man of Sense we have now
|
|
entirely _annihilated_ him: For if the Knowlege of his true Interest
|
|
in all Parts of the Conduct of Life, and a constant Course of
|
|
Practice agreeable to it, are essential to his Character, I do not
|
|
know where we shall find him.
|
|
|
|
_S._ There seems no necessity that to be a Man of Sense, he
|
|
should never make a Slip in the Path of Virtue, or in Point of
|
|
Morality; provided he is sensible of his Failing and diligently
|
|
applys himself to rectify what is done amiss, and to prevent the like
|
|
for the future. The best Arithmetician may err in casting up a long
|
|
Account; but having found that Error, he _knows how_ to mend it, and
|
|
immediately does so; and is notwithstanding that Error, an
|
|
Arithmetician; But he who _always_ blunders, and cannot correct his
|
|
Faults in Accounting, is no Arithmetician; nor is the
|
|
habitually-vicious Man _a Man of Sense_.
|
|
|
|
_C._ But methinks 'twill look hard, that all other Arts and
|
|
Sciences put together, and possess'd by one Man in the greatest
|
|
Perfection, are not able to dignify him with the Title of _a Man of
|
|
Sense_, unless he be also a Man of Virtue.
|
|
|
|
_S._ We shall agree, perhaps, that one who is _a Man of Sense_,
|
|
will not spend his Time in learning such Sciences as, if not useless
|
|
in themselves, will probably be useless to him?
|
|
|
|
_C._ I grant it.
|
|
|
|
_S._ And of those which may be useful to him, that is, may
|
|
contribute to his Happiness, he ought, if he is a Man of Sense to
|
|
know how to make them so.
|
|
|
|
_C._ To be sure.
|
|
|
|
_S._ And of those which may be useful, he will not (if he is a
|
|
Man of Sense) acquire all, except that One only which is the most
|
|
useful of all, to wit, the Science of Virtue.
|
|
|
|
_C._ It would, I own, be inconsistent with his Character to do
|
|
so.
|
|
|
|
_S._ It seems to follow then, that the vicious Man, tho' Master
|
|
of many Sciences, must needs be an ignorant and foolish Man; for
|
|
being, as he is vicious, of consequence unhappy, either he has
|
|
acquired only the useless Sciences, or having acquired such as might
|
|
be useful, he knows not how to make them contribute to his Happiness;
|
|
and tho' he may have every other Science, he is ignorant that the
|
|
SCIENCE OF VIRTUE is of more worth, and of more consequence to his
|
|
Happiness than all the rest put together. And since he is ignorant
|
|
of what _principally_ concerns him, tho' it has been told him a
|
|
thousand Times from Parents, Press, and Pulpit, the Vicious Man
|
|
however learned, cannot be _a Man of Sense_, but is a Fool, a Dunce,
|
|
and a Blockhead.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, February 11, 1734/5
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Reply to a Piece of Advice_
|
|
|
|
_Mr. Franklin,_
|
|
In your Paper of the 18th past, some Verses were inserted, said
|
|
to be design'd as a PIECE OF ADVICE to a good Friend. As this _Piece
|
|
of Advice_, if it had been intended for a particular Friend alone,
|
|
might have been as well convey'd to him privately; I suppose the
|
|
Author by getting it publish'd, thinks it may be of Use to great
|
|
Numbers of others, in his Friend's Circumstances. The import of it
|
|
is, "That 'tis mighty silly for a single Man to change his State; for
|
|
assoon as his Wishes are crown'd, his expected Bliss dissolves into
|
|
Cares in Bondage, which is a compleat Curse; That only Fools in Life
|
|
wed, for every Woman is a Tyrant: That he who marries, acts contrary
|
|
to his Interest, loses his Liberty and his Friends, and will soon
|
|
perceive himself undone; and that the best of the Sex are no better
|
|
than a Plague." So ill-natur'd a Thing must have been written, either
|
|
by some forlorn old Batchelor, or some cast-away Widower, that has
|
|
got the Knack of drowning all his softer Inclinations in his Bowl or
|
|
his Bottle. I am grown old and have made abundance of Observations,
|
|
and I have had three Wives my self; so that from both Experience and
|
|
Observation I can say, that this Advice is wrong and untrue in every
|
|
Particular. It is wrong to assert _that tis silly in a single Man to
|
|
change his State_: For what old Batchelor can die without Regret and
|
|
Remorse, when he reflects upon his Death-bed, that the inestimable
|
|
Blessing of Life and Being has been communicated by Father to Son
|
|
through all Generations from _Adam_ down to him, but in him it stops
|
|
and is extinguished; and that _the Humane Race divine_ would be no
|
|
more, for any Thing he has done to continue it; he having, like the
|
|
wicked Servant, _wrapt up and hid his Talent in a Napkin_, (i. e. his
|
|
Shirt Tail,) while his Neighbours the Good and Faithful Servants, had
|
|
some of them produced _Five_ and some _Ten._ I say such an one shall
|
|
not only die with Regret, but he may justly fear a severe Punishment.
|
|
Nor is it true that _assoon as a Man weds, his expected Bliss
|
|
dissolves into slavish Cares and Bondage._ Every Man that is really a
|
|
Man is Master of his own Family; and it cannot be _Bondage_ to have
|
|
another submit to one's Government. If there be any Bondage in the
|
|
Case, 'tis the Woman enters into it, and not the Man. And as to the
|
|
_Cares_, they are chiefly what attend the bringing up of Children;
|
|
and I would ask any Man who has experienced it, if they are not the
|
|
most delightful Cares in the World; and if from that Particular
|
|
alone, he does not find the _Bliss_ of a double State much greater,
|
|
instead of being less than he expected. In short this _Bondage_ and
|
|
these _Cares_ are like the Bondage of having a beautiful and fertile
|
|
Garden, which a Man takes great Delight in; and the Cares are the
|
|
Pleasure he finds in cultivating it, and raising as many beautiful
|
|
and useful Plants from it as he can. And if common Planting and
|
|
Gardening be an Honourable Employment, (as 'tis generally allow'd,
|
|
since the greatest Heroes have practic'd it without any Diminution to
|
|
their Glory) I think _Human Planting_ must be more Honourable, as the
|
|
Plants to be raised are more excellent in their Nature, and to bring
|
|
them to Perfection requires the greater Skill and Wisdom.
|
|
|
|
As to the Adviser's next Insinuation, that _only Fools wed, and
|
|
every Woman is a Tyrant_; 'tis a very severe and undutiful Reflection
|
|
upon his own Father and Mother; and since he is most likely to know
|
|
best the Affairs of his own Family, I shall not contradict him in
|
|
that particular, so far as relates to his own Relations: for perhaps
|
|
his Aversion to a Wife arises from observing how his Mamma treated
|
|
his Daddy; for she might be a _Xantippe_ tho' he was no _Socrates_;
|
|
it being probable that a wise Man would have instill'd sounder
|
|
Principles into his Son. But in general I utterly dissent from him,
|
|
and declare, that I scarce ever knew a Man who knew how to command in
|
|
a proper Manner, but his Wife knew as well how to show a becoming
|
|
Obedience. And there are in the World infinitely more He-Tyrants
|
|
than She-Ones.
|
|
|
|
In the next Place he insinuates, that _a Man by marrying, acts
|
|
contrary to his Interest, loses his Liberty and his Friends, and soon
|
|
finds himself undone_. In which he is as much mistaken as in any of
|
|
the rest. A Man does not act contrary to his Interest by Marrying;
|
|
for I and Thousands more know very well that we could never thrive
|
|
till we were married; and have done well ever since; What we get, the
|
|
Women save; a Man being fixt in Life minds his Business better and
|
|
more steadily; and he that cannot thrive married, could never have
|
|
throve better single; for the Idleness and Negligence of Men is more
|
|
frequently fatal to Families, than the Extravagance of Women. Nor
|
|
does a Man _lose his Liberty_ but encrease it; for when he has no
|
|
Wife to take Care of his Affairs at Home, if he carries on any
|
|
Business there, he cannot go Abroad without a Detriment to that; but
|
|
having a Wife, that he can confide in, he may with much more Freedom
|
|
be abroad, and for a longer Time; thus the Business goes on
|
|
comfortably, and the good Couple relieve one another by turns, like a
|
|
faithful Pair of Doves. Nor does he _lose Friends_ but gain them, by
|
|
prudently marrying; for there are all the Woman's Relations added to
|
|
his own, ready to assist and encourage the new-married Couple; and a
|
|
Man that has a Wife and Children, is sooner trusted in Business, and
|
|
can have Credit longer and for larger Sums than if he was single,
|
|
inasmuch as he is look'd upon to be more firmly settled, and under
|
|
greater Obligations to behave honestly, for his Family's Sake.
|
|
|
|
I have almost done with our _Adviser_, for he says but one
|
|
thing more; to wit, _that the best of the Sex are no better than
|
|
Plagues._ Very hard again upon his poor Mother, who tho' she might be
|
|
the best Woman in the World, was, it seems, in her graceless Son's
|
|
Opinion, no better than a Pestilence. Certainly this Versifyer never
|
|
knew what a Woman is! He must be, as I conjectur'd at first, some
|
|
forlorn old Batchelor. And if I could conjure, I believe I should
|
|
discover, that his Case is like that of many other old He-Maids I
|
|
have heard of. Such senseless Advice as this can have no Effect upon
|
|
them; 'tis nothing like this, that deters them from marrying. But
|
|
having in some of their first Attempts upon the kinder Sort of the
|
|
Fair Sex, come off with Shame and Disgrace, they persuade themselves
|
|
that they are, (and perhaps they are) really Impotent: And so durst
|
|
not marry, for fear of those dishonourable Decorations of the Head,
|
|
which they think it the inevitable Fate of a Fumbler to wear. Then,
|
|
like the Fox who could not use his Tail, (but the Fox had really lost
|
|
it) they set up for _Advisers_, as the Gentleman I have been dealing
|
|
with; and would fain persuade others, that the Use of their own Tails
|
|
is more mischievous than beneficial. But I shall leave him to
|
|
Repentance; and endeavour to make the Reader some Amends for my
|
|
Scribble, by adding the following Verses from the two best English
|
|
Poets that ever were; only hinting, that by the first two Lines 'tis
|
|
plain from whence our Poetical Adviser had his Inspiration.
|
|
|
|
Our Maker bids increase; who bids abstain,
|
|
But our _Destroyer_, foe to GOD and Man?
|
|
Hail wedded Love! mysterious Law, true source
|
|
Of human Offspring, sole propriety
|
|
In Paradise! of all Things common else.
|
|
By thee adult'rous Lust was driv'n from Men,
|
|
Among the bestial Herds to range; by thee,
|
|
(Founded in Reason, loyal, just, and pure)
|
|
Relations dear, and all the Charities
|
|
Of Father, Son, and Brother, first were known.
|
|
Perpetual Fountain of domestic Sweets!
|
|
Whose Bed is undefil'd, and chaste, pronounc'd.
|
|
Here, Love his golden shafts employs; here lights
|
|
His constant Lamp; and waves his purple Wings;
|
|
Reigns here, and revels: not in the bought smile
|
|
Of harlots; loveless, joyless, un-endear'd;
|
|
Casual fruition! _Milton_.
|
|
|
|
BUT happy they! the happiest of their Kind!
|
|
Whom gentler Stars unite, and in one Fate
|
|
Their Hearts, their Fortunes, and their Beings blend.
|
|
'Tis not the courser Tie of human Laws,
|
|
Unnatural oft, and foreign to the Mind,
|
|
Which binds their Peace, but Harmony itself,
|
|
Attuning all their Passions into Love;
|
|
Where Friendship full-exerts his softest Power,
|
|
Perfect Esteem enliven'd by Desire
|
|
Ineffable, and Sympathy of Soul,
|
|
Thought meeting Thought, and Will preventing Will,
|
|
With boundless Confidence; for nought but Love
|
|
Can answer Love, and render Bliss secure.
|
|
------ those whom Love cements, in holy Faith,
|
|
And equal Transport, free as Nature, live,
|
|
Disdaining Fear; for what's the World to them,
|
|
It's Pomp, it's Pleasure, and it's Nonsense all!
|
|
Who in each other clasp whatever fair
|
|
High Fancy forms, and lavish Heart can wish,
|
|
Something than Beauty dearer, should they look
|
|
Or on the Mind, or mind-illumin'd Face;
|
|
Truth, Goodness, Honour, Harmony and Love,
|
|
The richest Bounty of indulgent _Heaven_.
|
|
Mean-time a smiling Offspring rises round,
|
|
And mingles both their Graces. By degrees,
|
|
The human Blossom blows; and every Day,
|
|
Soft as it rolls along, shows some new Charm,
|
|
The Father's Lustre, and the Mother's Bloom.
|
|
Then infant Reason grows apace, and calls
|
|
For the kind Hand of an assiduous Care;
|
|
Delightful Task! to rear the tender Thought,
|
|
To teach the young Idea how to shoot,
|
|
To pour the fresh Instruction o'er the Mind,
|
|
To breathe th' inspiring Spirit, and to plant
|
|
The generous Purpose in the glowing Breast.
|
|
Oh speak the Joy! You, whom the sudden Tear
|
|
Surprizes often, while you look around,
|
|
And nothing strikes your Eye but Sights of Bliss,
|
|
All various Nature pressing on the Heart,
|
|
Obedient Fortune, and approving _Heaven._
|
|
These are the Blessings of diviner Love;
|
|
And thus their Moments fly; the _Seasons_ thus,
|
|
As ceaseless round a jarring World they roll,
|
|
Still find them happy; and consenting SPRING
|
|
Sheds her own rosy Garland on their Head:
|
|
Till Evening comes at last, cool, gentle, calm;
|
|
When after the long vernal Day of Life,
|
|
Enamour'd more, as Soul approaches Soul,
|
|
Together, down they sink in social Sleep. _Thomson_.
|
|
|
|
_I am, Sir,
|
|
_Your most humble Servant_,
|
|
A. A.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, March 4, 1734/5
|
|
|
|
_On a Pertinacious Obstinacy in Opinion_
|
|
|
|
As a _pertinacious Obstinacy_ in Opinion, and confident
|
|
_Self-Sufficiency_, is possibly one of the greatest Vices, as well as
|
|
Weaknesses, that the human Mind is capable of; so on the contrary a
|
|
Readiness to give up a _loved Opinion_, upon due Conviction, is as
|
|
great a Glory, as well as Happiness, as we are here capable of
|
|
attaining: For as _Solomon_ justly observes, a _wise Man_ feareth;
|
|
he, conscious of his own Imperfections, and sensible of the
|
|
numberless Mistakes and Errors we are here subject and liable to,
|
|
submits to the Dictates of Truth and Wisdom, where-ever he finds
|
|
them, and thereby avoids the Evil, and attains the Glory. But the
|
|
_Fool_, the self-sufficient Man, who proudly arrogates all Knowledge
|
|
and Science to himself, rageth at Contradiction, and will not suffer
|
|
his Knowledge to be questioned; what wonder is it then, if he _fall
|
|
into Evil_ when he is thus _confident_?
|
|
|
|
It is a just Observation, that a love of Truth and Goodness is
|
|
not more essential to an honest Man than a Readiness to change his
|
|
Mind and Practice, upon Conviction that he is in the wrong: And
|
|
indeed, these two are inseparably connected in our present fallible
|
|
Condition; possibly those who are arrived at a better State, may get
|
|
clear of all their Mistakes, as well as their ill Habits immediately,
|
|
and yet be capable of an endless Improvement in Knowledge, by having
|
|
their Minds extended still to discover further Objects and new
|
|
Relations of Things which they had no Notions of before. Upon this
|
|
Supposition they may receive continual Additions to their Store, and
|
|
yet have no Occasion to change their former Sentiments, because they
|
|
were right as far as they went: But I am sure in this Life we find
|
|
frequent Reason _to give up mistaken Opinions_, as well as to take in
|
|
additional Light. We cannot but perceive ourselves liable to
|
|
innumerable Errors, even when we are most careful to avoid them,
|
|
either from our Ignorance in the Nature of Things, or in the Use and
|
|
Meaning of Words. We take up Opinions, or engage in Parties, thro'
|
|
the influence of Education, Friendship, and Alliances, or in the Heat
|
|
of Opposition and Prejudice, which cannot be maintained upon more
|
|
exact Enquiries, or in cool impartial Thoughts. _Prevailing
|
|
Opinions_ insensibly gain the Possession of our Minds, and have
|
|
commonly the Advantage of being Firstcomers: and yet are very often
|
|
no better than _prevailing Falshoods_, directly the Reverse of Truth.
|
|
We are all apt to be misled, where the Safety of our Interest, or
|
|
Peace with our Neighbours appear to depend upon a particular Sett of
|
|
Principles, or upon falling in with a Party. A Man can hardly
|
|
forbear wishing those Things to be true and right, which he
|
|
apprehends would be for his Conveniency to find so: And many
|
|
Perswasions, when they are looked into, plainly appear to have no
|
|
better a Foundation.
|
|
|
|
It must therefore be highly reasonable, to examine our
|
|
Sentiments, and always to _lie open to Conviction_ and farther Light
|
|
upon better Consideration of a Case, and to be willing to profit by
|
|
the Diligence and Enquiries, as well of other Men, as ourselves.
|
|
Without this, _Reason_ would be given us in vain, _Study_ and
|
|
_Converse_ wou'd be useless and unprofitable Things. It would be
|
|
much happier for us to have no Advantages for better Instruction, or
|
|
no Capacity to improve by them, if we must necessarily be staked down
|
|
to those Apprehensions of Things, either in _Religion_ or
|
|
_Politicks_, which we have happened to light upon.
|
|
|
|
That Man only, who is ready to change his Mind upon proper
|
|
Conviction, is in the Way to come at the Knowledge of Truth. He who
|
|
is neither _ashamed_ of his own Ignorance, nor _unwilling_ to receive
|
|
Help from any Quarter towards the better Information of his Mind, or
|
|
_afraid_ to discard an old and _favoured_ Opinion, upon better
|
|
Evidence; he, I say, will find Truth kindly open before him, and
|
|
freely offer it self to him: He will be surprized with the noble
|
|
Pleasure of a new Discovery, and his Knowledge will be always
|
|
progressive as long as he lives. But a Man _tenacious_ of his _first
|
|
Thoughts_ is necessarily concluded in Error, if ever he happens to
|
|
mistake: For when People once arrive to an Opinion of Infallibility,
|
|
they can never grow wiser than they already are.
|
|
|
|
It is an Argument indeed of _Levity_ and _Weakness_ of Mind, to
|
|
change our Opinion upon every slight Appearance, or to give it up to
|
|
the Authority of others: But it argues a _real Greatness_ of Soul, to
|
|
have always a regard for Truth, superiour to every other
|
|
Consideration, and to feel an undissembled Pleasure upon the
|
|
Discovery of it.
|
|
|
|
If Truth is _Divine_ and _Eternal_, 'tis the natural Homage of
|
|
a Reasonable Mind to yield to its powerful Light, and embrace its
|
|
lovely Form wherever it appears; 'tis _Superstition_ to be fond of an
|
|
old Opinion not supported by it; It is _Idolatry_ to adore the Image
|
|
and false Appearance of it: But it is open _Prophaness_, to neglect
|
|
and contemn it. The only acceptable Sacrifice here, is that of our
|
|
_darling Prejudice_, and the Offering of an upright Mind is like the
|
|
Perfume of Incense.
|
|
|
|
But a sincere and hearty Lover of Truth will not content
|
|
himself with a meer Change of his Sentiments upon Conviction,
|
|
concealed within his own Breast; but will ingenuously acknowledge his
|
|
Mistake, as freely and as publickly as he avowed it. The same
|
|
Frankness and Sincerity which make me declare myself of one Opinion
|
|
at one Time, will oblige me to declare myself of another afterwards,
|
|
if my Sentiments are really altered. We owe this Justice to Mankind
|
|
as well as Truth.
|
|
VERIDICUS.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, March 27, 1735
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Dialogue Between Two Presbyterians_
|
|
|
|
Mr. FRANKLIN,
|
|
_You are desired by several of your Readers to print the
|
|
following_ DIALOGUE. _It is between Two of the Presbyterian Meeting
|
|
in this City. We cannot tell whether it may not be contrary to your
|
|
Sentiments, but hope, if it should, you will not refuse publishing it
|
|
on that Account: nor shall we be offended if you print any thing in
|
|
Answer to it._ We are yours, _&c._ A.B.C.D.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Good Morrow! I am glad to find you well and abroad; for
|
|
not having seen you at Meeting lately, I concluded you were
|
|
indispos'd.
|
|
|
|
T. _Tis true I have not been much at Meeting lately, but that
|
|
was not occasion'd by any Indisposition. In short, I stay at home,
|
|
or else go to Church, because I do not like Mr._ H. _your new-fangled
|
|
Preacher._
|
|
|
|
_S._ I am sorry we should differ in Opinion upon any Account;
|
|
but let us reason the Point calmly; what Offence does Mr. _H._ give
|
|
you?
|
|
|
|
T. _Tis his Preaching disturbs me: He talks of nothing but the
|
|
Duties of Morality: I do not love to hear so much of Morality: I am
|
|
sure it will carry no Man to Heaven, and I do not think it fit to be
|
|
preached in a Christian Congregation_.
|
|
|
|
_S._ I suppose you think no Doctrine fit to be preached in a
|
|
Christian Congregation, but such as Christ and his Apostles used to
|
|
preach.
|
|
|
|
T. _To be sure I think so_.
|
|
|
|
_S._ I do not conceive then how you can dislike the Preaching
|
|
of Morality, when you consider, that Morality made the principal Part
|
|
of their Preaching as well as of Mr. _H_'s. What is Christ's Sermon
|
|
on the Mount but an excellent moral Discourse, towards the End of
|
|
which, (as foreseeing that People might in time come to depend more
|
|
upon their _Faith_ in him, than upon _Good Works_, for their
|
|
Salvation) he tells the Hearers plainly, that their saying to him,
|
|
_Lord, Lord_, (that is, professing themselves his Disciples or
|
|
_Christians_) should give them no Title to Salvation, but their
|
|
_Doing_ the Will of his Father; and that tho' they have prophesied in
|
|
his Name, yet he will declare to them, as Neglecters of Morality,
|
|
that he never knew them.
|
|
|
|
T. _But what do you understand by that Expression of Christ's,_
|
|
Doing the Will of my Father.
|
|
|
|
_S._ I understand it to be the Will of God, that we should live
|
|
virtuous, upright, and good-doing Lives; as the Prophet understood
|
|
it, when he said, _What doth the Lord require of thee, O Man, but to
|
|
do justly, love Mercy, and walk humbly with the Lord thy God._
|
|
|
|
T. _But is not Faith recommended in the New Testament as well
|
|
as Morality?_
|
|
|
|
_S._ Tis true, it is. Faith is recommended as a Means of
|
|
producing Morality: Our Saviour was a Teacher of Morality or Virtue,
|
|
and they that were deficient and desired to be taught, ought first to
|
|
_believe_ in him as an able and faithful Teacher. Thus Faith would
|
|
be a Means of producing Morality, and Morality of Salvation. But
|
|
that from such Faith alone Salvation may be expected, appears to me
|
|
to be neither a Christian Doctrine nor a reasonable one. And I
|
|
should as soon expect, that my bare Believing Mr. _Grew_ to be an
|
|
excellent Teacher of the Mathematicks, would make me a Mathematician,
|
|
as that Believing in Christ would of it self make a Man a Christian.
|
|
|
|
T. _Perhaps you may think, that tho' Faith alone cannot save a
|
|
Man, Morality or Virtue alone, may._
|
|
|
|
_S._ Morality or Virtue is the End, Faith only a Means to
|
|
obtain that End: And if the End be obtained, it is no matter by what
|
|
Means. What think you of these Sayings of Christ, when he was
|
|
reproached for conversing chiefly with gross Sinners, _The whole,_
|
|
says he, _need not a Physician, but they that are sick;_ and, _I come
|
|
not to call the Righteous, but Sinners, to Repentance:_ Does not this
|
|
imply, that there were good Men, who, without Faith in him, were in a
|
|
State of Salvation? And moreover, did he not say of _Nathanael_,
|
|
while he was yet an Unbeliever in him, and thought no Good could
|
|
possibly come out of Nazareth, _Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom
|
|
there is no Guile!_ that is, _behold a virtuous upright Man._ Faith
|
|
in Christ, however, may be and is of great Use to produce a good
|
|
Life, but that it can conduce nothing towards Salvation where it does
|
|
not conduce to Virtue, is, I suppose, plain from the Instance of the
|
|
Devils, who are far from being Infidels, _they believe_, says the
|
|
Scripture, _and tremble._ There were some indeed, even in the
|
|
Apostles' Days, that set a great Value upon Faith, distinct from Good
|
|
Works, they meerly idolized it, and thought that a Man ever so
|
|
righteous could not be saved without it: But one of the Apostles, to
|
|
show his Dislike of such Notions, tells them, that not only those
|
|
heinous Sins of Theft, Murder, and Blasphemy, but even _Idleness_, or
|
|
the Neglect of a Man's Business, was more pernicious than meer
|
|
harmless Infidelity, _He that neglects to provide for them of his own
|
|
House,_ says he, _is WORSE than an Infidel._ St. _James_, in his
|
|
second Chapter, is very zealous against these Cryers-up of Faith, and
|
|
maintains that Faith without Virtue is useless, _Wilt thou know, O
|
|
vain Man,_ says he, _that Faith without Works is dead;_ and, _shew me
|
|
your Faith without your Works, and I will shew you mine by my Works_.
|
|
Our Saviour, when describing the last Judgment, and declaring what
|
|
shall give Admission into Bliss, or exclude from it, says nothing of
|
|
_Faith_ but what he says against it, that is, that those who cry
|
|
_Lord, Lord_, and profess to have _believed_ in his Name, have no
|
|
Favour to expect on that Account; but declares that 'tis the
|
|
Practice, or the omitting the Practice of the Duties of Morality,
|
|
_Feeding the Hungry, cloathing the Naked, visiting the Sick,_ &c. in
|
|
short, 'tis the Doing or not Doing all the Good that lies in our
|
|
Power, that will render us the Heirs of Happiness or Misery.
|
|
|
|
T. _But if Faith is of great Use to produce a good Life, why
|
|
does not Mr._ H. _preach up Faith as well as Morality?
|
|
|
|
_S._ Perhaps it may be this, that as the good Physician suits
|
|
his Physick to the Disease he finds in the Patient, so Mr. _H_. may
|
|
possibly think, that though Faith in Christ be properly first
|
|
preach'd to Heathens and such as are ignorant of the Gospel, yet
|
|
since he knows that we have been baptized in the Name of Christ, and
|
|
educated in his Religion, and call'd after his Name, it may not be so
|
|
immediately necessary to preach _Faith_ to us who abound in it, as
|
|
_Morality_ in which we are evidently deficient: For our late Want of
|
|
Charity to each other, our Heart-burnings and Bickerings are
|
|
notorious. St. _James_ says, _Where Envying and Strife is, there is
|
|
Confusion and every evil Work:_ and where Confusion and every evil
|
|
Work is, _Morality_ and Good-will to Men, can, I think, be no
|
|
unsuitable Doctrine. But surely _Morality_ can do us no harm. Upon
|
|
a Supposition that we all have Faith in Christ already, as I think we
|
|
have, where can be the Damage of being exhorted to Good Works? Is
|
|
Virtue Heresy; and Universal Benevolence False Doctrine, that any of
|
|
us should keep away from Meeting because it is preached there.
|
|
|
|
T. _Well, I do not like it, and I hope we shall not long be
|
|
troubled with it. A Commission of the Synod will sit in a short
|
|
Time, and try this Sort of Preaching.
|
|
|
|
_S._ I am glad to hear that the Synod are to take it into
|
|
Consideration. There are Men of unquestionable Good Sense as well as
|
|
Piety among them, and I doubt not but they will, by their Decision,
|
|
deliver our Profession from the satyrical Reflection, which a few
|
|
uneasy People of our Congregation have of late given Occasion for,
|
|
_to wit_, That the _Presbyterians_ are going to persecute, silence
|
|
and condemn a good Preacher, for exhorting them to be honest and
|
|
charitable to one another and the rest of Mankind.
|
|
|
|
T. _If Mr._ H. _is a Presbyterian Teacher, he ought to preach
|
|
as Presbyterians use to preach; or else he may justly be condemn'd
|
|
and silenc'd by our Church Authority. We ought to abide by the_
|
|
Westminster _Confession of Faith; and he that does not, ought not to
|
|
preach in our Meetings._
|
|
|
|
_S._ The Apostacy of the Church from the primitive Simplicity
|
|
of the Gospel, came on by Degrees; and do you think that the
|
|
Reformation was of a sudden perfect, and that the first Reformers
|
|
knew at once all that was right or wrong in Religion? Did not
|
|
_Luther_ at first preach only against selling of Pardons, allowing
|
|
all the other Practices of the _Romish_ Church for good. He
|
|
afterwards went further, and _Calvin_, some think, yet further. The
|
|
Church of _England_ made a Stop, and fix'd her Faith and Doctrine by
|
|
39 Articles; with which the Presbyterians not satisfied, went yet
|
|
farther; but being too self-confident to think, that as their Fathers
|
|
were mistaken in some Things, they also might be in some others; and
|
|
fancying themselves infallible in _their_ Interpretations, they also
|
|
ty'd themselves down by the _Westminster Confession_. But has not a
|
|
Synod that meets in King GEORGE the Second's Reign, as much Right to
|
|
interpret Scripture, as one that met in _Oliver_'s Time? And if any
|
|
Doctrine then maintain'd, is, or shall hereafter be found not
|
|
altogether orthodox, why must we be for ever confin'd to that, or to
|
|
any, _Confession_?
|
|
|
|
T. _But if the Majority of the Synod be against any Innovation,
|
|
they may justly hinder the Innovator from Preaching._
|
|
|
|
_S._ That is as much as to say, if the Majority of the
|
|
Preachers be in the wrong, they may justly hinder any Man from
|
|
setting the People right; for a _Majority_ may be in the wrong as
|
|
well as the _Minority_, and frequently are. In the beginning of the
|
|
Reformation, the _Majority_ was vastly against the Reformers, and
|
|
continues so to this Day; and, if, according to your Opinion, they
|
|
had a Right to silence the _Minority_, I am sure the _Minority_ ought
|
|
to have been silent. But tell me, if the _Presbyterians_ in this
|
|
Country, being charitably enclin'd, should send a Missionary into
|
|
_Turky_, to propagate the Gospel, would it not be unreasonable in the
|
|
_Turks_ to prohibit his Preaching?
|
|
|
|
T. _It would, to be sure, because he comes to them for their
|
|
good._
|
|
|
|
_S._ And if the _Turks_, believing us in the wrong, as we think
|
|
them, should out of the same charitable Disposition, send a
|
|
Missionary to preach _Mahometanism_ to us, ought we not in the same
|
|
manner to give him free Liberty of preaching his Doctrine?
|
|
|
|
T. _It may be so; but what would you infer from that?_
|
|
|
|
_S._ I would only infer, that if it would be thought reasonable
|
|
to suffer a _Turk_ to preach among us a Doctrine diametrically
|
|
opposite to _Christianity_, it cannot be reasonable to silence one of
|
|
our own Preachers, for preaching a Doctrine exactly agreeable to
|
|
_Christianity_, only because he does not perhaps zealously propagate
|
|
all the Doctrines of an old _Confession_. And upon the whole, though
|
|
the _Majority_ of the Synod should not in all respects approve of Mr.
|
|
_H_'s Doctrine, I do not however think they will find it proper to
|
|
condemn him. We have justly deny'd the Infallibility of the _Pope_
|
|
and his _Councils_ and _Synods_ in their Interpretations of
|
|
Scripture, and can we modestly claim _Infallibility_ for our selves
|
|
or our _Synods_ in our way of Interpreting? Peace, Unity and Virtue
|
|
in any Church are more to be regarded than Orthodoxy. In the present
|
|
weak State of humane Nature, surrounded as we are on all sides with
|
|
Ignorance and Error, it little becomes poor fallible Man to be
|
|
positive and dogmatical in his Opinions. No Point of Faith is so
|
|
plain, as that _Morality_ is our Duty, for all Sides agree in that.
|
|
A virtuous Heretick shall be saved before a wicked Christian: for
|
|
there is no such Thing as voluntary Error. Therefore, since 'tis an
|
|
Uncertainty till we get to Heaven what true Orthodoxy in all points
|
|
is, and since our Congregation is rather too small to be divided, I
|
|
hope this Misunderstanding will soon be got over, and that we shall
|
|
as heretofore unite again in mutual _Christian Charity._
|
|
|
|
T. _I wish we may. I'll consider of what you've said, and wish
|
|
you well.
|
|
|
|
_S._ Farewell.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 10, 1735
|
|
|
|
_Women's Court_
|
|
|
|
We hear from Chester County, that last Week at a Vendue held
|
|
there, a Man being unreasonably abusive to his Wife upon some
|
|
trifling Occasion, the Women form'd themselves into a Court, and
|
|
order'd him to be apprehended by their Officers and brought to Tryal:
|
|
Being found guilty he was condemn'd to be duck'd 3 times in a
|
|
neighbouring Pond, and to have one half cut off, of his Hair and
|
|
Beard (which it seems he wore at full length) and the Sentence was
|
|
accordingly executed, to the great Diversion of the Spectators.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 17, 1735
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Advice to a Pretty Creature and Replies_
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Franklin_,
|
|
"Pray let the prettiest Creature in this Place know, (by
|
|
publishing this) That if it was not for her Affectation, she would be
|
|
absolutely irresistible."
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, November 20, 1735
|
|
|
|
_The little Epistle in our last, has produced no less than six,
|
|
which follow in the order we receiv'd 'em._
|
|
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Franklin_,
|
|
`I cannot conceive who your Correspondent means by _the
|
|
prettiest Creature_ in this Place; but I can assure either him or
|
|
her, that she who is truly so, has no Affectation at all.'
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
`Since your last Week's Paper I have look'd in my Glass a
|
|
thousand Times, I believe, in one Day; and if it was not for the
|
|
Charge of Affectation I might, without Partiality, believe myself the
|
|
Person meant.'
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Franklin_,
|
|
`I must own that several have told me, I am the prettiest
|
|
Creature in this Place; but I believe I shou'd not have been tax'd
|
|
with Affectation if I cou'd have thought as well of them as they do
|
|
of themselves.'
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
`Your Sex calls me pretty; my own affected. Is it from
|
|
Judgment in the one, or Envy in the other?'
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Franklin_,
|
|
`They that call me affected are greatly mistaken; for I don't
|
|
know that I ever refus'd a Kiss to any Body but a Fool.'
|
|
|
|
_Friend Benjamin,_
|
|
`I am not at all displeased at being charged with Affectation.
|
|
Thou know'st the vain People call Decency of Behaviour by that Name.'
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, November 27, 1735
|
|
|
|
|
|
_A Sea Monster_
|
|
|
|
From Bermuda, they write, that a Sea Monster has been lately
|
|
seen there, the upper part of whose Body was in the Shape and about
|
|
the Bigness of a Boy of 12 Years old, with long black Hair; the lower
|
|
Part resembled a Fish. He was first seen on shore, and taking to the
|
|
Water, was pursu'd by People in a Boat, who intended to strike him
|
|
with a Fishgig; but approaching him, the human Likeness surpris'd
|
|
them into Compassion, and they had not the Power to do it.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 29, 1736
|
|
|
|
_The Art of Saying Little in Much_
|
|
|
|
_Amplification_, or the Art of saying _Little in Much_, seems
|
|
to be principally studied by the Gentlemen Retainers to the Law.
|
|
'Tis highly useful when they are to speak at the Bar; for by its
|
|
Help, they talk a great while, and appear to say a great deal, when
|
|
they have really very little to say. But 'tis principally us'd in
|
|
Deeds and every thing they write. You must abridge their
|
|
Performances to understand them; and when you find how little there
|
|
is in a Writing of vast Bulk, you will be as much surpriz'd as a
|
|
Stranger at the Opening of a _Pumpkin_.
|
|
|
|
It is said, that in the Reign of _William_ the Conqueror, the
|
|
Conveyance of a large Estate, might be made in about half a dozen
|
|
short Lines; which was nevertheless in every Respect sufficiently
|
|
authentick. For several Hundred Years past, Conveyances and Writings
|
|
in the Law have been continually encreasing in Bulk, and when they
|
|
will come to their full Growth, no Man knows: For the Rule, _That
|
|
every thing past and present ought to be express'd, and every thing
|
|
future provided for_, (tho' one would think a large Writing might be
|
|
made by it) does not serve to confine us at present; since all those
|
|
things are not only to be express'd, but may (by the Modern License)
|
|
be express'd by all the _different Words_ we can think of. Probably
|
|
the Invention of Printing, which took from the Scribes great Part of
|
|
their former Employment, put them on the Contrivance of making up by
|
|
a Multitude of Words, what they wanted in real Business; hence the
|
|
plain and strong Expression, _shall be his own_, is now swoln into,
|
|
_shall and may at all Times hereafter forever, and so from time to
|
|
time, freely, quietly and peaceably, have, hold and enjoy, &c_. The
|
|
Lawyer, in one of _Steele_'s Comedies, instructs his Pupil, that
|
|
_Tautology_ is the first, second, and third Parts of his Profession,
|
|
that is to say, _the whole of it_: And adds, _That he hopes to see
|
|
the Time, when it will require as much Parchment to convey a Piece of
|
|
Land as will cover it_. That time perhaps is not far off: For I am
|
|
told, that the Deeds belonging to the Title of some small Lotts,
|
|
(which have gone thro' several Hands) are nearly sufficient for the
|
|
Purpose.
|
|
|
|
But of all the Writings I have ever seen, for the Multiplicity,
|
|
Variety, Particularity, and prodigious Flow of Expression, none come
|
|
up to the Petition of _Dermond O Folivey_, an Attorney of the Kingdom
|
|
of _Ireland_: As the Petition is curious in itself, and may serve as
|
|
a Precedent for young Clerks, when they would acquire a proper Stile
|
|
in their Performances, I shall give it to the Publick entire, as
|
|
follows.
|
|
|
|
To the Right Honourable _Sir William Asten_, Knight, and
|
|
Lord Judge of Assize of the _Munster_ Circuit.
|
|
_The humble_ Petition _of_ Dermond O Folivey _a well
|
|
and most accomplished Gentleman_.
|
|
|
|
`Most humbly, and most submissively, and most obediently,
|
|
and most dutifully, by shewing, and expressing, and declaring to your
|
|
Lordship, that whereby, and whereas, and wherein, the most major, and
|
|
most greater, and most bigger, and the most stronger Part of the most
|
|
best, and the most ablest, and the most mightiest Sort of the People
|
|
of the Barony of _Torrough_ and County of _Kerry_, finding, and
|
|
knowing, and certifying themselves, both hereafter, and the Time
|
|
past, and now, and then, and at the present time, to be very much
|
|
oppressed, and distressed, and overcharged in all Taxes, and
|
|
Quit-rents, and other Levies, and accidental Applotments, and
|
|
Collections, and Gatherings-together in the Barony of _Torrough_ and
|
|
County of _Kerry_ aforesaid, And for the future Prevention of all,
|
|
and every such, henceforth, hereafter, heretofore, and for the time
|
|
to come, and now, and then, and at this time, and forever, the
|
|
aforesaid most major, and most bigger, and most better, and most
|
|
stronger Part of the most best, and most ablest, and most mightiest
|
|
Sort of the People of _Torrough_ and County of _Kerry_ aforesaid,
|
|
HATH appointed, nominated, constituted, ordained, declared, elected,
|
|
and made me Mr. _Dermond O Folivey_ to solicite, and make mention to
|
|
your Lordship, looking upon me now, and then, and there, and here,
|
|
the said Mr. _Dermond O Folivey_, to be the fittest, the most
|
|
mightiest, and the most ablest, and the most best, and the most
|
|
accomplished, and the most eloquentest Spokesman within the said
|
|
Barony and County, their granded, and well beloved, and well
|
|
bestowed, and better merited Agent and Sollicitor, to represent
|
|
Oppression, and Suppression, and Extortion, for all such, and for all
|
|
much, and whereof, and whereby, and whereupon, your Petitioner
|
|
fairly, and finely, and honestly, and ingeniously, and deservedly
|
|
appointed, nominated, constituted, and ordained, and elected, and
|
|
approved, and made choice of me the said Mr. _Dermond O Folivey_ as
|
|
an Agent and Sollicitor, to undergo, and overgo, and under-run, and
|
|
over-run, and manage this much, big, and mighty Service.
|
|
|
|
`These are therefore to will, and to shall be, now, and then,
|
|
and there, and at this time, and at the time past, and heretofore,
|
|
and formerly, and at the present, and forever, the humble, and
|
|
special, and important, and mighty, and irrefatigable Request of me,
|
|
your Petitioner and Sollicitor-General aforesaid; THAT your Lordship
|
|
will be pleased, and satisfied, and resolved, to grant, and give, and
|
|
deliver, and bestow, upon me Mr. _Dermond O Folivey_, your before
|
|
recited, and nominated Petitioner and Sollicitor-General aforesaid,
|
|
an Order and Judgment, and Warrant, and Authority of Preference to my
|
|
Lord _Kerry_, and Mr. _Henry Punceby_, Esq; and Justice of the Peace
|
|
and Quorum, or to any four or five or more or less, or either or
|
|
neither of them, now, and then, and there, and here, and any where,
|
|
and every where, and somewhere, and no-where, to call and bring, and
|
|
fetch, and carry, before him, or them, or either of them, or neither,
|
|
or both, such Party or Parties as they shall imagine, and conceive,
|
|
and consider, and suppose, and assent, and esteem, and think fit, and
|
|
meet, and necessary, and decent, and convenient, all, and every, and
|
|
either, or neither of them, to call, to examine, and call to a strict
|
|
Account; and that Part, and most Part, Extortion; and then, and
|
|
there, when, and where, and whether, to establish, and elect, and
|
|
direct, and impower, and authorize all such, and all much, Bailiffs,
|
|
and under Receivers, and Collectors and Gatherers-together of Money,
|
|
as your Petitioner did, or do, or have, or had, or shall, or will, or
|
|
may, or might, or should, or could, or ought to chuse, or pitch upon
|
|
with, and punctually to desire my self Mr. _Dermond O Folivey_ that
|
|
they, them, and these, and every, and either, and neither of them,
|
|
that shall, and did, and have, and do, and will him in Peace, and
|
|
Unity, and Amity, and Concord, and Tranquility, henceforth, and for
|
|
the time to come, and hereafter, and for the time past, and not past,
|
|
and the time present, and now, and for everlasting; and especially
|
|
not to molest, or trouble, or hinder, or disturb, or hurt, or meddle
|
|
with the Petitioner, my self, Mr. _Dermond O Folivey_, in his
|
|
Possession of 72 Acres of Land in _Gertogolinmore_ in the Barony of
|
|
_Torrough_ and County of _Kerry_.'
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Dermond O Folivey._
|
|
_Given, and granted, and dated, and signed, and sealed by my
|
|
own Hand and with my own Hand, and for my own Hand, and under my own
|
|
Hand and Seal this -- Day of -- Anno Dom_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 17, 1736
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Drinker's Dictionary_
|
|
|
|
_Nothing more like a Fool than a drunken Man_.
|
|
Poor Richard.
|
|
|
|
'Tis an old Remark, that Vice always endeavours to assume the
|
|
Appearance of Virtue: Thus Covetousness calls itself _Prudence_;
|
|
_Prodigality_ would be thought _Generosity_; and so of others. This
|
|
perhaps arises hence, that Mankind naturally and universally approve
|
|
Virtue in their Hearts, and detest Vice; and therefore, whenever
|
|
thro' Temptation they fall into a Practice of the latter, they would
|
|
if possible conceal it from themselves as well as others, under some
|
|
other Name than that which properly belongs to it.
|
|
|
|
But DRUNKENNESS is a very unfortunate Vice in this respect. It
|
|
bears no kind of Similitude with any sort of Virtue, from which it
|
|
might possibly borrow a Name; and is therefore reduc'd to the
|
|
wretched Necessity of being express'd by distant round-about Phrases,
|
|
and of perpetually varying those Phrases, as often as they come to be
|
|
well understood to signify plainly that A MAN IS DRUNK.
|
|
|
|
Tho' every one may possibly recollect a Dozen at least of the
|
|
Expressions us'd on this Occasion, yet I think no one who has not
|
|
much frequented Taverns would imagine the number of them so great as
|
|
it really is. It may therefore surprize as well as divert the sober
|
|
Reader, to have the Sight of a new Piece, lately communicated to me,
|
|
entitled
|
|
|
|
The DRINKERS DICTIONARY.
|
|
|
|
A
|
|
He is Addled,
|
|
He's casting up his Accounts,
|
|
He's Afflicted,
|
|
He's in his Airs.
|
|
|
|
B
|
|
He's Biggy,
|
|
Bewitch'd,
|
|
Block and Block,
|
|
Boozy,
|
|
Bowz'd,
|
|
Been at Barbadoes,
|
|
Piss'd in the Brook,
|
|
Drunk as a Wheel-Barrow,
|
|
Burdock'd,
|
|
Buskey,
|
|
Buzzey,
|
|
Has Stole a Manchet out of the Brewer's Basket,
|
|
His Head is full of Bees,
|
|
Has been in the Bibbing Plot,
|
|
Has drank more than he has bled,
|
|
He's Bungey,
|
|
As Drunk as a Beggar,
|
|
He sees the Bears,
|
|
He's kiss'd black Betty,
|
|
He's had a Thump over the Head with Sampson's Jawbone,
|
|
He's Bridgey.
|
|
|
|
C
|
|
He's Cat,
|
|
Cagrin'd,
|
|
Capable,
|
|
Cramp'd,
|
|
Cherubimical,
|
|
Cherry Merry,
|
|
Wamble Crop'd,
|
|
Crack'd,
|
|
Concern'd,
|
|
Half Way to Concord,
|
|
Has taken a Chirriping-Glass,
|
|
Got Corns in his Head,
|
|
A Cup to much,
|
|
Coguy,
|
|
Copey,
|
|
He's heat his Copper,
|
|
He's Crocus,
|
|
Catch'd,
|
|
He cuts his Capers,
|
|
He's been in the Cellar,
|
|
|
|
|
|
He's in his Cups,
|
|
Non Compos,
|
|
Cock'd,
|
|
Curv'd,
|
|
Cut,
|
|
Chipper,
|
|
Chickery,
|
|
Loaded his Cart,
|
|
He's been too free with the Creature,
|
|
Sir Richard has taken off his Considering Cap,
|
|
He's Chap-fallen,
|
|
|
|
D
|
|
He's Disguiz'd,
|
|
He's got a Dish,
|
|
Kill'd his Dog,
|
|
Took his Drops,
|
|
It is a Dark Day with him,
|
|
He's a Dead Man,
|
|
Has Dipp'd his Bill,
|
|
He's Dagg'd,
|
|
He's seen the Devil,
|
|
|
|
E
|
|
He's Prince Eugene,
|
|
Enter'd,
|
|
Wet both Eyes,
|
|
Cock Ey'd,
|
|
Got the Pole Evil,
|
|
Got a brass Eye,
|
|
Made an Example,
|
|
He's Eat a Toad & half for Breakfast.
|
|
In his Element,
|
|
|
|
F
|
|
He's Fishey,
|
|
Fox'd,
|
|
Fuddled,
|
|
Sore Footed,
|
|
Frozen,
|
|
Well in for't,
|
|
Owes no Man a Farthing,
|
|
Fears no Man,
|
|
Crump Footed,
|
|
Been to France,
|
|
Flush'd,
|
|
Froze his Mouth,
|
|
Fetter'd,
|
|
Been to a Funeral,
|
|
His Flag is out,
|
|
Fuzl'd,
|
|
Spoke with his Friend,
|
|
Been at an Indian Feast.
|
|
|
|
G
|
|
He's Glad,
|
|
Groatable,
|
|
Gold-headed,
|
|
Glaiz'd,
|
|
Generous,
|
|
Booz'd the Gage,
|
|
As Dizzy as a Goose,
|
|
Been before George,
|
|
Got the Gout,
|
|
Had a Kick in the Guts,
|
|
Been with Sir John Goa,
|
|
Been at Geneva,
|
|
Globular,
|
|
Got the Glanders.
|
|
|
|
H
|
|
Half and Half,
|
|
Hardy,
|
|
Top Heavy,
|
|
Got by the Head,
|
|
Hiddey,
|
|
Got on his little Hat,
|
|
Hammerish,
|
|
Loose in the Hilts,
|
|
Knows not the way Home,
|
|
Got the Hornson,
|
|
Haunted with Evil Spirits,
|
|
|
|
|
|
Has Taken Hippocrates grand Elixir,
|
|
|
|
I
|
|
He's Intoxicated,
|
|
Jolly,
|
|
Jagg'd,
|
|
Jambled,
|
|
Going to Jerusalem,
|
|
Jocular,
|
|
Been to Jerico,
|
|
Juicy.
|
|
|
|
K
|
|
He's a King,
|
|
Clips the King's English,
|
|
Seen the French King,
|
|
The King is his Cousin,
|
|
Got Kib'd Heels,
|
|
Knapt,
|
|
Het his Kettle.
|
|
|
|
L
|
|
He's in Liquor,
|
|
Lordly,
|
|
He makes Indentures with his Leggs,
|
|
Well to Live,
|
|
Light,
|
|
Lappy,
|
|
Limber,
|
|
|
|
M
|
|
He sees two Moons,
|
|
Merry,
|
|
Middling,
|
|
Moon-Ey'd,
|
|
Muddled,
|
|
Seen a Flock of Moons,
|
|
Maudlin,
|
|
Mountous,
|
|
Muddy,
|
|
Rais'd his Monuments,
|
|
Mellow,
|
|
|
|
N
|
|
He's eat the Cocoa Nut,
|
|
Nimptopsical,
|
|
Got the Night Mare,
|
|
|
|
O
|
|
He's Oil'd,
|
|
Eat Opium,
|
|
Smelt of an Onion,
|
|
Oxycrocium,
|
|
Overset,
|
|
|
|
P
|
|
He drank till he gave up his Half-Penny,
|
|
Pidgeon Ey'd,
|
|
Pungey,
|
|
Priddy,
|
|
As good conditioned as a Puppy,
|
|
Has scalt his Head Pan,
|
|
Been among the Philistines,
|
|
In his Prosperity,
|
|
He's been among the Philippians,
|
|
He's contending with Pharaoh,
|
|
Wasted his Paunch,
|
|
He's Polite,
|
|
Eat a Pudding Bagg,
|
|
|
|
Q
|
|
He's Quarrelsome,
|
|
|
|
R
|
|
He's Rocky,
|
|
Raddled,
|
|
Rich,
|
|
Religious,
|
|
Lost his Rudder,
|
|
Ragged,
|
|
Rais'd,
|
|
|
|
|
|
Been too free with Sir Richard,
|
|
Like a Rat in Trouble.
|
|
|
|
S
|
|
He's Stitch'd,
|
|
Seafaring,
|
|
In the Sudds,
|
|
Strong,
|
|
Been in the Sun,
|
|
As Drunk as David's Sow,
|
|
Swampt,
|
|
His Skin is full,
|
|
He's Steady,
|
|
He's Stiff,
|
|
He's burnt his Shoulder,
|
|
He's got his Top Gallant Sails out,
|
|
Seen the yellow Star,
|
|
As Stiff as a Ring-bolt,
|
|
Half Seas over,
|
|
His Shoe pinches him,
|
|
Staggerish,
|
|
It is Star-light with him,
|
|
He carries too much Sail,
|
|
Stew'd
|
|
Stubb'd,
|
|
Soak'd,
|
|
Soft,
|
|
Been too free with Sir John Strawberry,
|
|
He's right before the Wind with all his Studding Sails out,
|
|
Has Sold his Senses.
|
|
|
|
T
|
|
He's Top'd,
|
|
Tongue-ty'd,
|
|
Tann'd,
|
|
Tipium Grove,
|
|
Double Tongu'd,
|
|
Topsy Turvey,
|
|
Tipsey,
|
|
Has Swallow'd a Tavern Token,
|
|
He's Thaw'd,
|
|
He's in a Trance,
|
|
He's Trammel'd,
|
|
|
|
V
|
|
He makes Virginia Fence,
|
|
Valiant,
|
|
Got the Indian Vapours,
|
|
|
|
W
|
|
The Malt is above the Water,
|
|
He's Wise,
|
|
He's Wet,
|
|
He's been to the Salt Water,
|
|
He's Water-soaken,
|
|
He's very Weary,
|
|
Out of the Way.
|
|
|
|
The Phrases in this Dictionary are not (like most of our Terms
|
|
of Art) borrow'd from Foreign Languages, neither are they collected
|
|
from the Writings of the Learned in our own, but gather'd wholly from
|
|
the modern Tavern-Conversation of Tiplers. I do not doubt but that
|
|
there are many more in use; and I was even tempted to add a new one
|
|
my self under the Letter B, to wit, _Brutify'd_: But upon
|
|
Consideration, I fear'd being guilty of Injustice to the Brute
|
|
Creation, if I represented Drunkenness as a beastly Vice, since, 'tis
|
|
well-known, that the Brutes are in general a very sober sort of
|
|
People.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, January 13, 1736/7
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Captain Farra_
|
|
|
|
The same Day arrived Capt.Farra, who has long been given over
|
|
for lost. In his Voyage from Jamaica hither, he was cast away in
|
|
Palachee Bay within Cape Florida, among the Cannibal Indians, who
|
|
were extreamly kind and assisted in saving the Cargo, Rigging, &c.
|
|
And News of the Wreck coming to Augustine, the Spaniards sent
|
|
Periagua's and other small Vessels round to take in what was sav'd,
|
|
and bring it to that Port; where Capt. Farra hir'd a Rhode-Island
|
|
Sloop to bring it hither. Had this English Vessel been forc'd ashore
|
|
on the civil, polite, hospitable, christian, protestant Coast of
|
|
Great-Britain, Query, _Might they have expected kinder Treatment from
|
|
their own Countrymen?_
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 2, 1737
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Upon the Talents Requisite in an Almanack-Writer_
|
|
|
|
_To the Author of the_ Pennsylvania Gazette.
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
As I am a great Lover of all Works of Ingenuity, and the
|
|
Authors of them, so more especially am I a great Reader and Admirer
|
|
of those _Labours of the Learned_, called _ALMANACKS._
|
|
|
|
As I am a considerable Proficient in this Sort of Learning; and
|
|
as at this time of the Year, Copies of Almanacks for the next Year
|
|
usually come to the Press, long before they are wanted: And as I have
|
|
laid out many a Six-pence among your Customers, the Profit whereof
|
|
has in a great Measure redounded to you: So I may reasonably hope to
|
|
be look'd on as a good Customer, and claim a favourable Place in your
|
|
Paper.
|
|
|
|
I have a large Volume in Manuscript by me, on the Important
|
|
Subject of _Almanack-making_, which I may in time communicate to the
|
|
Publick; but at present I am willing to oblige them, with only a
|
|
Taste of my Skill, which (if I have any Title to the Art of
|
|
Prognostication) will certainly make them long for the whole.
|
|
|
|
My present Design, is to give to you and the Publick, _a short
|
|
Essay_, upon the Talents requisite in _an Almanack-Writer_, by which
|
|
it will plainly appear, how much the Community is indebted to Men of
|
|
such _great and uncommon Parts and Sagacity_.
|
|
|
|
An _Almanack-Writer_, Sir, should be born one like a Poet; for
|
|
as I read among the Works of the learned, _Poeta nascitur non fit_;
|
|
so it is a Maxim with me, that _Almanackorum scriptor nascitur not
|
|
fit_. Gifts of Nature, Sir, compleated by Rules of Art, are
|
|
indispensably Necessary to make a great Man this way, as well as any
|
|
other.
|
|
|
|
The first Thing requisite in an _Almanack-Writer_, is, _That he
|
|
should be descended of a great Family, and bear a Coat of Arms_, this
|
|
gives Lustre and Authority to what a Man writes, and makes the common
|
|
People to believe, that _certainly this is a great Man_. I have
|
|
known Almanack-Writers so curious and exact in this particular, that
|
|
they have been at the Expence and Charge of a Wooden Cut in the
|
|
Frontispiece, with their Arms emblazon'd, and surrounded with a
|
|
Label, expressing the Name of the Family. This, Sir, made a great
|
|
Impression, I confess, upon myself and others, and made those Works
|
|
to go off well.
|
|
|
|
If the Author who was _born to be an Almanack-maker_, has the
|
|
Misfortune to be meanly descended, but yet, has a true Genius; if he
|
|
has by him, or can borrow a Book, entitul'd the Peerage of _England_,
|
|
he may safely borrow a Coat, (if there happens to be a Peer of his
|
|
own Name) by reason, we are so great a Way distant from the Earl
|
|
Marshal of that Part of _Great-Britain_ call'd _England_.
|
|
|
|
The next Talent requisite in the forming of _a compleat
|
|
Almanack-Writer_, is a Sort of Gravity, which keeps a due medium
|
|
between Dulness and Nonsence, and yet has a Mixture of both. Now you
|
|
know, Sir, that grave Men are taken by the common People always for
|
|
wise Men. Gravity is just as good a Picture of Wisdom, as Pertness
|
|
is of Wit, and therefore very taking. And to compleat an
|
|
Almanack-maker, in this particular, he shou'd write Sentences, and
|
|
throw out Hints, that neither himself, nor any Body else can
|
|
understand or know the Meaning of. And this is also a necessary
|
|
Talent. I will give you some Instances of this Way of Writing, which
|
|
are almost inimitable, such as these, _Leeds, Jan_. 23. 1736.
|
|
_Beware, the Design is suspected_. Feb. 23. _The World is bad with
|
|
somebody_. Mar. 27. _Crimes not remitted_. April 10. _Cully Mully
|
|
puff appears_. May 21 _The Sword of Satan is drawn_. June 7. _The
|
|
Cat eat the Candle_. Now, Sir, Why should the Sword of Satan be
|
|
drawn to kill the Cat on the 21st Day of _May_, when it plainly
|
|
appears in Print, that the Cat did not eat the Candle till the 7th of
|
|
_June_ following? This Question no Man but an Astrologer can
|
|
possibly answer.
|
|
|
|
In the next Place, I lay it down as a certain Maxim or
|
|
Position, that _an Almanack-Writer shou'd not be a finish'd Poet, but
|
|
a Piece of one_, and qualify'd to write, what we vulgarly call
|
|
Doggerel; and that his Poetry shou'd bear a near Resemblance to his
|
|
Prose. I must beg _Horace's_ and my Lord _Roscommon's_ Pardon, if I
|
|
dissent from them in this one particular. I will give you their Rule
|
|
in my Lord's English Translation, and save myself the Trouble of
|
|
transcribing the Latin of _Horace_.
|
|
|
|
_But no Authority of Gods nor Men
|
|
Allow of any Mean in Poesy."
|
|
|
|
This might for all I know be a Rule for Poetry among the
|
|
Ancients, but the Moderns have found it troublesome, and the most of
|
|
them, have wholly neglected it for that Reason. Witness the Authors
|
|
Verses, whose Praise I am now celebrating, _December_ 1736.
|
|
|
|
_Now is my_ 12 _Months Task come to conclusion,
|
|
_Lord free us from Hatred, Envy and Confusion_.
|
|
_All are not pleas'd, nor never will i'th' main_.
|
|
_Fewds and Discords among us will remain_.
|
|
_Be that as 'twill, however I'm glad to see,
|
|
Envy disappointed both at Land and Sea_.
|
|
|
|
|
|
I do not pretend to say, that this is like the Poetry of
|
|
_Horace_, or Lord _Roscommon_, but it is the Poesy of an Astrologer;
|
|
it is his own and not borrowed; It is occult and mysterious. It has
|
|
a due Degree of that Sort of Gravity, which I have mentioned: In
|
|
short, it is form'd upon the Rules which I have laid down in this
|
|
short Essay.
|
|
|
|
I could further prove to you, if I was to go about it, That _an
|
|
Almanack-Writer_ ought not only to be a Piece of a Wit, but a very
|
|
Wag; and that he shou'd have the Art also to make People believe,
|
|
that he is almost a Conjurer, &c. But these Things I reserve for my
|
|
greater Work, and in the mean time, until that appears, I desire to
|
|
remain,
|
|
_Sir,_
|
|
_Sept_. 27. 1737. _Your very humble Servant,_
|
|
PHILOMATH.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, October 20, 1737
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Compassion of Captain Croak_
|
|
|
|
On the 3d Inst. arrived here the _Rose_, of _London_, Capt.
|
|
_Croak_ Commander, from whom we have the following Relation, viz.
|
|
|
|
That on the 17th of _June_ last, being on his Voyage from
|
|
_Newfoundland_ to this Port, and in the Latitude of 41 Deg. N. and 48
|
|
Deg. of Longitude, he espied a Sail that made Signals of Distress;
|
|
whereupon he came up to her, and found her so near Sinking, that he
|
|
had only just Time to save the Persons belonging to her, (who were to
|
|
the Number of 61) for he had no sooner taken them on board his own
|
|
Vessel, but the other foundered in the Sea. The Persons thus
|
|
providentially saved, informed him:
|
|
|
|
That they were for the most part indented Servants and set Sail
|
|
from _Cork_ for _Boston_, the 29th of _March_ last, on board the said
|
|
Vessel, which was called the Speedwell, of which _William Stockdale_
|
|
had been Master. That about the 7th of _May_, their Water and Bread
|
|
beginning to fall short, they were obliged to touch at the Island of
|
|
St. _Michael_'s, and having lain there at Anchor, about 5 Days, a
|
|
boisterous and violent Wind, blowing S W (while the Captain and
|
|
Super-Cargo, and several others belonging to the Vessel were on
|
|
Shore) forced her out to Sea, leaving her Anchor and Cable behind.
|
|
That it was 21 Days before she could recover the Island, and being
|
|
arrived there, which was on a Friday, those on board were informed,
|
|
that the Master and those before mentioned, to have been left ashore,
|
|
had set Sail for _Lisbon_ the Friday before, on Board one Capt.
|
|
_Gillegan_. That thereupon the Persons, who had then the Care of the
|
|
Vessel, put to Sea in order to proceed on their Voyage to _Boston_.
|
|
That having met with a hard Gale of Wind, which caused the Vessel's
|
|
Larboard Quarter to give way, they were obliged to keep two Pumps a
|
|
going without Intermission, during the Space of three Days, when they
|
|
most providentially met with the _Rose_, that saved their Lives,
|
|
which otherwise were inevitably lost. _As it was running a Risque,
|
|
which few others have cared to do, it was therefore a more remarkable
|
|
Act of Humanity, in the Commander of the_ Rose, _to take so many
|
|
additional Mouths on Board, when he had only Provisions for his own
|
|
Company. This is such an Instance of a laudable Compassion, that it
|
|
is to be wished it may not be more admired than imitated on the like
|
|
Occasions.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, August 10, 1738
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Octuplets_
|
|
|
|
_Aug_. 5. We hear that the Wife of a Peasant in the District of
|
|
_Boisleduc_ was brought to Bed of eight Children, seven Girls and one
|
|
Boy, who were all living.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, November 24, 1738
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Obadiah Plainman Defends the Meaner Sort_
|
|
|
|
_To the Author of the Letter in the last_ Pennsylvania _Gazette._
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
On my first hearing of the Outcry that was raised against the
|
|
Paragraph, that related to the shutting up of the Concert Room, _&c_.
|
|
I immediately called for the _Gazette_; but, tho' I read the Article
|
|
over and over with the greatest Attention, I was not able to discover
|
|
in it the least injurious Reflection on the Characters of the
|
|
Gentlemen concerned. My ill Success, I then attributed to my
|
|
Stupidity, and concluded that the Abuse, tho' I could not see it,
|
|
must nevertheless be very perspicuous to the BETTER SORT, otherwise,
|
|
they would not have made so loud a Complaint against it, as it is
|
|
publickly known they did, _since it was in the publick Street_.
|
|
|
|
I comforted myself with the Hopes, that, on the Appearance of
|
|
your Letter, the Mist would have been dispelled from my Eyes. But, I
|
|
can't help declaring, that, notwithstanding all the Assistance you
|
|
have furnished me with, the Injury complained of, still remains to me
|
|
as great a Secret as ever.
|
|
|
|
You tell us _the Paragraph manifestly carries in it an
|
|
Insinuation,_ that _the Persons concerned in the Concert declin'd
|
|
meeting, as thinking it inconsistent with the Doctrine of the
|
|
Christian Religion_. But, with Submission, I think the Paragraph
|
|
manifestly insinuates the quite contrary. It mentions, that the
|
|
Gentlemen concerned in the Concert, _&c_. caused the Door to be
|
|
_broke open_, which was the strongest Evidence that could be given of
|
|
their Dislike to the Principles on which it had been shut up.
|
|
Therefore, tho' it immediately follows, that no Company came the last
|
|
Assembly Night, it was _most unnatural_ to suppose they should so
|
|
_suddenly_ have changed their Sentiments, and declined their
|
|
Diversions on any religious Consideration.
|
|
|
|
Let us admit for Argument's Sake (which, otherwise, can by no
|
|
Means be admitted) that the Words are guilty of the Insinuation,
|
|
which you are so fond it should be thought they are. Yet, how does
|
|
it appear that the Characters of the Gentlemen are injured by it?
|
|
You tell us, _They think so_. But, is that a Reason to induce _Us_
|
|
to believe it is _really_ so? Since you have appealed to the _Mob_
|
|
as _Judges_ of this IMPORTANT Controversy, I must inform you, that
|
|
the Assertion (and much less, _the Belief_) of any Man, never passes
|
|
for Argument at _Our_ impartial Tribunal. For my own Part (I speak
|
|
with an humble Deference to the rest of my Brethren) I cannot
|
|
conceive how any Person's Reputation can be prejudiced, tho' it
|
|
should be reported, that he has left off making of Legs, or cutting
|
|
of Capers.
|
|
|
|
Perhaps you will object, _that it is not the Fact, but the
|
|
Motive, which is controverted; That you admit the Company did not
|
|
meet; but deny, they declined meeting, for the Reason, which,_ as you
|
|
pretend, _is insinuated in the Gazette_. If this be the true State
|
|
of the Question, _we_ unanimously pronounce the Accusation to be
|
|
groundless. In Matters of such a Nature, no Man can judge of your
|
|
Thoughts but yourself: Therefore, your Denial of the Charge was a
|
|
sufficient, and indeed the _only_ proper Defence you could make.
|
|
|
|
But you were not contented to stop here, but must needs tell
|
|
_us_ incoherent Stories of Mr. _Whitefield_ and Mr. _Seward_, and,
|
|
under Pretence of a Vindication, foist into the News-Paper Invectives
|
|
against those two Gentlemen. You might with equal Propriety have
|
|
entertained _Us_ with the History of _Romulus_ and _Remus_, and
|
|
entituled it "an Argument to prove, that you did not _think_ Dancing,
|
|
or _idle_ Capering an unchristian Diversion."
|
|
|
|
I hope, Sir, from what I have said, you are now convinced, that
|
|
you have brought before _Us_ a most _ridiculous_ Complaint against an
|
|
_imaginary_ Abuse, and consequently you have been all this Time doing
|
|
nothing more than beating the Air, and _fighting without an
|
|
Adversary_.
|
|
|
|
In the next Place, I am to reprimand you, Sir, for your
|
|
disrespectful Behaviour to _Us_, whom you had chosen for your Judges.
|
|
_We_ take Notice, that you have ranked yourself under the
|
|
Denomination of the BETTER SORT of People, which is an Expression
|
|
always made use of in Contradistinction to the _meaner Sort_, _i.e._
|
|
the Mob, or the Rabble. Tho' _We_ are not displeased with such
|
|
Appellations when bestowed on _Us_ by our Friends, yet _We_ have ever
|
|
regarded them as Terms of outrageous Reproach, when applied to _Us_
|
|
by our Enemies; for in this (and so it is in many other Cases) the
|
|
Words are to receive their Construction from the _known_ Mind of the
|
|
Speaker: Your _Demosthenes'_ and _Ciceroes_, your _Sidneys_ and
|
|
_Trenchards_ never approached _Us_ but with Reverence: _The High and
|
|
Mighty Mob_, _The Majesty of the Rabble_, _The Honour and Dignity of
|
|
the Populace_, _Or_ such _like_ Terms of Respect, were frequent in
|
|
their Orations; and what a high Opinion they entertained of the
|
|
Accuracy of _Our_ Judgment, appears from those elaborate Compositions
|
|
they addressed to _Us_.
|
|
|
|
They never took upon them to make a Difference of Persons, but
|
|
as they were distinguished by their Virtues or their Vices. But now
|
|
our present Scriblers expect our Applause for reviling us to our
|
|
Faces. They consider us as a stupid Herd, in whom the Light of
|
|
Reason is extinguished. Hence every impertinent Babler thinks
|
|
himself qualified to harangue us, without Style, Argument or Justness
|
|
of Sentiment. Your gross Deficiency in the two latter Particulars I
|
|
have already given Instances of; and as to your Skill in Language you
|
|
have furnished _Us_ with the following notable Example: You affirm
|
|
_That Mr_. Whitefield's _Tenets are mischievous_: Therefore, on that
|
|
Supposition, it is impossible they should be contemptible; yet, with
|
|
the same Breath _you assure_ Us, _that you have them in the utmost
|
|
Contempt_. This is the merriest Gibberish I ever met with. Surely,
|
|
you have not published it as a Sample of the Stile of those polite
|
|
Folks, who by their own Authority, _"contrary to Law and Justice,
|
|
without any previous Application to or Consent first had"_ of their
|
|
Fellow-Citizens, have usurped the Title of the BETTER SORT.
|
|
|
|
Under these _gentle_ Reprehensions _We_ now dismiss you, hoping
|
|
you will make a proper Use of them, when you shall judge it
|
|
_convenient_ to appeal to _Us_ again.
|
|
_I am, _On Behalf of myself and the Rest of my
|
|
Brethren of the_ Meaner Sort,
|
|
Yours, _&c_.
|
|
OBADIAH PLAINMAN.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, May 15, 1740
|
|
|
|
_Obadiah Plainman to Tom Trueman_
|
|
|
|
_To_ TOM TRUEMAN.
|
|
|
|
_Dear Tommy,_
|
|
Tho' there are two Letters addressed to me, one in the
|
|
_Gazette_, and the other in the _Mercury_; yet, from the near
|
|
Conformity they bear to one another in Sentiment, Reasoning, and
|
|
_Similes_, I am apt to conclude they were wrote by the same Hand,
|
|
_Or_, if by different Persons, that they communicated their Thoughts
|
|
to one another, and then club'd them together for the Service of the
|
|
_Public_. On the latter Supposition, it would be unnecessary in my
|
|
Reply, to regard them as distinct Performances of several Writers; I
|
|
therefore address myself to you as the Author of both.
|
|
|
|
You tell me you have found out by my Letter, that I imagine
|
|
myself the Prince and Leader of a mighty People. I wonder how a
|
|
Genius so penetrating as yours could be led into so gross an Error:
|
|
For, alas! I am but a poor ordinary Mechanick of this City, obliged
|
|
to work hard for the Maintenance of myself, my Wife, and several
|
|
small Children. When my daily Labour is over, instead of going to
|
|
the Alehouse, I amuse myself with the Books of the Library Company,
|
|
of which I am an _unworthy_ Member. This Account of my
|
|
Circumstances, the Meanness of my Education, and my innocent Manner
|
|
of Life, I hope, will effectually remove those _groundless_
|
|
Suspicions, which you seemed to entertain, of my being in a Plot
|
|
against the State.
|
|
|
|
You are pleased to inform me, that _you are_ But _a young Man,
|
|
Country-born_. In Return for such an _important_ Discovery, I will
|
|
let you into another Secret of as great Consequence. -- "Hark in your
|
|
Ear," _I am_ But _an old Man not Country-born_. In Respect of Soil,
|
|
I presume neither of us will pretend to any Superiority; but the
|
|
Pre-eminence being on my Side in Regard to my Age, I shall make Use
|
|
of that Privilege to _Document_ you a little.
|
|
|
|
I shall first consider the argumentative Part of your Letter in
|
|
the Gazette. You there assert, _that from the first Facts alledged
|
|
in the Paragraph, supposing nothing more said, a Stranger would
|
|
unquestionably imagine that the Rooms were shut up by the Owners_.
|
|
This Assertion is granted you, _because_ you are so kind to allow
|
|
that It is absolutely _destroyed_ by the Remainder of the Article;
|
|
which says, _the Gentlemen caused the Door to be broke open again_.
|
|
Thus far we have travelled, thro' the Construction of the Paragraph,
|
|
with a mutual Agreement, and a wonderful Satisfaction on both Sides.
|
|
But now you ask, _What does the Author mean by informing the World
|
|
that no Company came the,_ then, _last Assembly Night?_ Ay, what does
|
|
he mean? This is the "plaguy" Difficulty that has so _strangely
|
|
puzzled_, and which still seems to _continue_ to puzzle the _Better
|
|
Sort_. You are however sure, for your Part, that his Words must be
|
|
intended to signify _Something_ or _NOTHING_. As I shall always be
|
|
ready to gratify you, when I can do it safely, I agree to your latter
|
|
Alternative. But then, how can those Words which, on your own
|
|
Concession, mean NOTHING, carry in them the _Insinuation_ you contend
|
|
for, or any Insinuation at all. This notwithstanding, you think
|
|
yourself so absolutely certain of the Truth of your Consequence, that
|
|
one would imagine you were ready to take your corporal Oath of it,
|
|
when required, tho' you acknowledge there is not the _least Shadow_
|
|
of any Premises from which it can be deduced. This is such strange
|
|
Reasoning, that _doubtless, it has been reserved to this Time,
|
|
solely,_ dear _Tommy,_ for a Head so singularly clear and logical as
|
|
yours. You desire I would show the World the Interpretation the
|
|
Words will bear. Your Request, my dear Child, is contrary to all
|
|
Laws of Argument, and therefore (tho' I am heartily sorry it should
|
|
happen so) I cannot comply with your Desire. If you advance an
|
|
Assertion, it is at your own Peril to support it with Proofs, which
|
|
if you fail in, every one has a Right to _reject it as false_.
|
|
|
|
In my first I did not give any Construction of the Paragraph,
|
|
for my Business was to defend it from the Insinuation with which it
|
|
unjustly stood accused; and therefore, from the Gentlemen's declared
|
|
Dislike of Mr. _Whitefield_'s Principles, I inferred it was unnatural
|
|
to suppose they should so suddenly have changed their Sentiments.
|
|
Against this Defence you object, _that the_ Followers of Mr.
|
|
_Whitefield_ would naturally believe so sudden a Conversion. Now,
|
|
that They should be capable of _Thinking_ so, whom, in the first
|
|
Colume of the _Gazette_, you regard as _irrational_ Creatures, and,
|
|
consequently, destitute of the Faculty of _Thinking_, is to me quite
|
|
incomprehensible.
|
|
|
|
I now proceed to your Complaint of the gross Misrepresentation,
|
|
as you imagine, of the Meaning of the Words, _Better Sort_, in your
|
|
first Letter. That _notable_ Epistle was published as the Sentiments
|
|
of the whole Company concerned in the Concert. Therefore (whether
|
|
the Fact be so or not; for that is entirely out of the Question) I
|
|
had NO RIGHT to consider it, but as Theirs, nor Them in any other
|
|
Light than as they there appeared, namely as Part of the _People_,
|
|
which always signifies the Governed, or _private Persons_. Tho' the
|
|
Stile be in the third Person, yet, without any Prejudice to the
|
|
Sense, it may be changed to the first, and then it will run thus, _We
|
|
think our Characters injured by the Paragraph, as tho' Mr_.
|
|
Whitefield _had met with great Success among us the_ BETTER SORT _of
|
|
People of Pennsilvania_. This Case has no Manner of Resemblance to
|
|
those which you have put, of Boys at Bandy-Wicket, young Fellows at
|
|
Foot-Ball, Magistrates on the Bench, Quakers with their Hats on, or
|
|
the Library Company with their Hats off or on, for all those Persons
|
|
are said to be OF the _Better Sort_, which does not exclude others
|
|
from the same Rank. But the Denomination of _Better Sort_ in your
|
|
first Letter (where the Particle _of_, as applied in the latter
|
|
Cases, cannot be found) is evidently engrossed by Those who, with
|
|
such a commendable Modesty, bestowed it on themselves. Now when
|
|
private Persons publickly stile themselves, exclusively of all
|
|
others, the BETTER SORT of People of the Province, can it be doubted
|
|
but that they look on the Rest of their Fellow Subjects in the same
|
|
Government with Contempt, and consequently regard them as Mob and
|
|
Rabble. For so gross an Insult on the People in general, I
|
|
endeavoured (but without respecting any Party in particular, as you
|
|
groundlessly insinuate) to turn the Writer into Ridicule; and
|
|
therefore made Use of the Words Mob and Rabble, to expose him more
|
|
effectually; but with very different Ideas annexed to them in my Mind
|
|
(of which I was careful to give Notice) from those they receive, when
|
|
deduced from that extraordinary Epistle. In my Animadversions on it
|
|
I personated the Public, which you charge as a Crime, tho' it is an
|
|
allowed Figure in Speech, frequently used, and particularly by those
|
|
great Assertors of _Public Liberty_, whose Names I mentioned at the
|
|
Time.
|
|
|
|
I imagined my Design lay so apparently on the Surface, that you
|
|
could not have overlooked it. However, I am far from imitating the
|
|
Example you have set me, and shall not attribute your Mistake of my
|
|
Intentions, to an impenetrable Stupidity; but I fairly place it on
|
|
the Obscurity of my Stile.
|
|
|
|
|
|
This, dear _Tommy_, will be esteem'd a very liberal Concession,
|
|
by those who consider your Unskilfulness in Language. You have not,
|
|
by your Answer, mended the Blunder I remarked in your first: Your
|
|
saying, that the same Person may be both mischievous and
|
|
contemptible, is nothing to the Purpose; for you must regard him in
|
|
different Views before you can properly affirm so differently of him:
|
|
But Mr. _Whitefield_'s Doctrine you represented simply as
|
|
mischievous, and, under that Appearance only, you pronounced it the
|
|
Object of your Contempt. It seems as if you would rather have it
|
|
believed a Fault in Sentiment than Language: So you admit you
|
|
understood the Word, but charge the wrong Application of it, to the
|
|
Defect of your Judgment. In my poor Opinion, you gain nothing by the
|
|
Change, to furnish Matter of Triumph.
|
|
|
|
Tho' your Absurdities and Mistakes are such, that no Writer was
|
|
ever guilty of before; yet, I question not, but you will inform the
|
|
World in your next, as you did in your last, that my Animadversions
|
|
on them are only _Extracts out of other Men's Works,_ viz. _those of
|
|
the Party-Writers in_ England. I have, more than once, told you,
|
|
that no Man has a Right to bring an Accusation before the Publick,
|
|
without bringing his _Proofs_ along with it. You have confined your
|
|
Evidence, which is to support this Charge, to the Party-Writers of
|
|
_Great Britain_. I will not limit you to them, but shall admit, that
|
|
there is a _Possibility_ of its being true, if you can produce any
|
|
Author, of any Age or Country, that ever was engaged in a Controversy
|
|
_of the like Nature_ with Ours. The Paragraph in Dispute contains
|
|
but five Lines. The Insinuation, deduced from it in your first, is
|
|
also comprized within five; in your second it takes up fifteen; I
|
|
_hope_ I shall live to see the Day, when It shall have swelled to a
|
|
large Volume in Folio: For so useful and edifying a Work, as that is
|
|
likely to be, must redound to the immortal Honour of that IMPORTANT
|
|
Article of News, in the Reputation and Defence of which I am so
|
|
_deeply_ interested.
|
|
|
|
As to the PERSONAL SCANDAL, in both your Letters, it is a
|
|
Commodity I never deal in; and therefore, cannot make you any Return
|
|
for those _flagrant_ UNMERITED _Civilities_, which I have received
|
|
from your _polite_ Hand. However, if you think that such delicate
|
|
_genteel_ Touches of Raillery will be of any Service to you, in the
|
|
farther Prosecution of this _worthy_ Argument, I shall be far from
|
|
objecting against your Use of them.
|
|
And so, _my dear_ Tommy, _for the present_,
|
|
_I bid you heartily Farewell_.
|
|
OBADIAH PLAINMAN.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, May 29, 1740
|
|
|
|
_Religious Mood in Philadelphia_
|
|
|
|
During the Session of the _Presbyterian_ Synod, which began on
|
|
the 28th of the last Month, and continued to the third of this
|
|
Instant, there were no less than 14 Sermons preached on
|
|
_Society-Hill_ to large Audiences, by the Rev. Messrs. the
|
|
_Tennents_, Mr. _Davenport_, Mr. _Rowland_ and Mr. _Blair_, besides
|
|
what were deliver'd at the _Presbyterian_ and _Baptist_ Meetings, and
|
|
Expoundings and Exhortations in private Houses. The Alteration in
|
|
the Face of Religion here is altogether surprizing. Never did the
|
|
People show so great a Willingness to attend Sermons, nor the
|
|
Preachers greater Zeal and Diligence in performing the Duties of
|
|
their Function. Religion is become the Subject of most
|
|
Conversations. No Books are in Request but those of Piety and
|
|
Devotion; and instead of idle Songs and Ballads, the People are every
|
|
where entertaining themselves with Psalms, Hymns and Spiritual Songs.
|
|
All which, under God, is owing to the successful Labours of the
|
|
Reverend Mr. _Whitefield_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 12, 1740
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Statement of Editorial Policy_
|
|
|
|
It is a Principle among Printers, that when Truth has fair
|
|
Play, it will always prevail over Falshood; therefore, though they
|
|
have an undoubted Property in their own Press, yet they willingly
|
|
allow, that any one is entitled to the Use of it, who thinks it
|
|
necessary to offer his Sentiments on disputable Points to the
|
|
Publick, and will be at the Expence of it. If what is thus publish'd
|
|
be good, Mankind has the Benefit of it: If it be bad (I speak now in
|
|
general without any design'd Application to any particular Piece
|
|
whatever) the more 'tis made publick, the more its Weakness is
|
|
expos'd, and the greater Disgrace falls upon the Author, whoever he
|
|
be; who is at the same Time depriv'd of an Advantage he would
|
|
otherwise without fail make use of, _viz_. of Complaining, _that
|
|
Truth is suppress'd, and that he could say MIGHTY MATTERS, had he but
|
|
the Opportunity of being heard._
|
|
|
|
The Printers of this City have been unjustly reflected on, as
|
|
if they were under some undue Influence, and guilty of great
|
|
Partiality in favour of the Preaching lately admir'd among us, so as
|
|
to refuse Printing any Thing in Opposition to it, how just or
|
|
necessary soever. A Reflection entirely false and groundless, and
|
|
without the least Colour of Fact to support it; which all will be
|
|
convinc'd of when they see the following Piece from one Press, and
|
|
the Rev. Mr. _Cummings_'s Sermons against the Doctrines themselves,
|
|
from the other.
|
|
|
|
_Englishmen_ thought it an intolerable Hardship, when (tho' by
|
|
an Act of their own Parliament) Thoughts, which should be free, were
|
|
fetter'd and confin'd, and an Officer was erected over the Nation,
|
|
call'd _a Licenser of the Press_, without whose Consent no Writing
|
|
could be publish'd. Care might indeed be taken in the Choice of this
|
|
Officer, that he should be a Man of great Understanding, profound
|
|
Learning, and extraordinary Piety; yet, as the greatest and best of
|
|
Men may have _some_ Errors, and have been often found averse to
|
|
_some_ Truths, it was justly esteem'd a National Grievance, that the
|
|
People should have Nothing to read but the Opinions, or what was
|
|
agreeable to the Opinions of _ONE MAN_. But should every petty
|
|
Printer (who, if he can read his Hornbook, may be thought to have
|
|
Learning enough to qualify him for his own Sphere) presume to erect
|
|
himself into an Officer of this kind, and arbitrarily decide what
|
|
ought and what ought not to be published, much more justly might the
|
|
World complain. 'Tis true, where Invectives are contain'd in any
|
|
Piece, there is no good-natur'd Printer but had much rather be
|
|
employ'd in Work of another kind: However, tho' many personal
|
|
Reflections be interwoven in the following Performance, yet as the
|
|
Author _(who has subscrib'd his Name)_ thought them necessary, to
|
|
vindicate his own Conduct and Character, it is therefore hoped, on
|
|
that Consideration, the Reader will excuse the Printer for publishing
|
|
them.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, July 24, 1740
|
|
|
|
_Essay on Paper-Currency,
|
|
Proposing a New Method for Fixing Its Value_
|
|
|
|
_To the Author of the_ GENERAL MAGAZINE.
|
|
|
|
It appears by the Resolutions of the Honourable the House of
|
|
Commons of _Great Britain_, that it is their Opinion, that the
|
|
Issuing Paper Currencies in the _American_ Colonies hath been
|
|
prejudicial to the Trade of _Great Britain_, by causing a Confusion
|
|
in Dealings, and lessening of Credit in those Parts; and that there
|
|
is Reason to apprehend, that some Measures will be fallen upon, to
|
|
hinder or restrain any future Emissions of such Currencies, when
|
|
those that are now extant shall be called in and sunk. But if any
|
|
Scheme could be formed, for fixing and ascertaining the Value of
|
|
Paper Bills of Credit, in all future Emissions, it may be presumed
|
|
such Restraints will be taken off, as the Confusion complained of in
|
|
Dealings would thereby be avoided. Something of this Kind is here
|
|
attempted, in hopes that it may be improved into a useful Project.
|
|
But I shall first set down a few plain Remarks touching the
|
|
Fluctuation of Exchange, and the Value of Gold and Silver in the
|
|
Colonies; with some Observations on the Ballance of Trade; in order
|
|
to render what follows the more clear and intelligible.
|
|
|
|
I. Every particular Man, that is concerned in Trade, whose
|
|
Imports and Exports are not exactly equal, must either _draw_ Bills
|
|
of Exchange on other Countries, or _buy_ Bills to send abroad to
|
|
ballance his Accounts.
|
|
|
|
II. The Exports and Imports in any Colony, may be managed by
|
|
different Hands, and the Number of those chiefly imployed in the
|
|
latter may greatly exceed the Number of those imployed in the former.
|
|
|
|
Hence it is evident there may sometimes be many Buyers and few
|
|
Sellers of Bills of Exchange, even whilst the Exports may exceed in
|
|
Value the Imports: And it is easy to conceive, that in this Case,
|
|
Exchange may rise.
|
|
|
|
III. The _British_ Merchants, who trade to the Colonies, are
|
|
often unacquainted with the Advantages that may be made by building
|
|
of Ships there, or by the Commodities of those Colonies carried to
|
|
the _West-Indies_, or to Foreign Markets: And for that Reason,
|
|
frequently order all their Remittances in Bills of Exchange, tho'
|
|
less advantageous; which must encrease the Demand for Bills, and
|
|
enhance the Price of them.
|
|
|
|
IV. A great Demand in _Europe_ for any of the Commodities of
|
|
the Colonies, and large Orders for those Commodities from the
|
|
_British_ Merchants to their Factors here, with Directions to draw
|
|
for the Value, may occasion Exchange to fall for a Time, even tho'
|
|
the Imports should be greater than the Exports.
|
|
|
|
V. Hence it appears, that a sudden great Demand for Bills in
|
|
the Colonies, may, at any time, advance the Exchange; and a sudden
|
|
great Demand abroad for their Commodities may fall the Exchange.
|
|
|
|
VI. Gold and Silver will always rise and fall, very near in
|
|
Proportion as Exchange rises and falls; being only wanted, in those
|
|
Colonies that have a Paper Currency, for the same Use as Bills of
|
|
Exchange, _viz._ for Remittances to _England_.
|
|
|
|
VII. When few People can draw on _England_, or furnish those
|
|
who want Remittances with Gold or Silver, Paper Currency may fall
|
|
with respect to Sterling-Money and Gold and Silver, (by which the
|
|
_British_ Merchants always judge of it) and yet keep up to its
|
|
original Value in Respect to all other Things.
|
|
|
|
VIII. From all these Considerations, I think, it appears that
|
|
the Rising or Falling of the Exchange can be no sure Rule for
|
|
Discovering on which Side the Ballance of Trade lies; because that
|
|
Exchange may be affected by various Accidents independent thereof.
|
|
But in order to determine this Point with more Certainty, it should
|
|
be considered;
|
|
|
|
IX. That whatever is imported, must, first or last, be paid for
|
|
in the Produce or Manufactures of the Country: If the Commodities
|
|
exported in one Year be not sufficient to pay for what is imported,
|
|
the Deficiency must be made up by exporting more in succeeding Years;
|
|
otherwise the Colony becomes Debtor for so much as the Deficiency is;
|
|
which at last must be discharged (if it is ever discharged) by their
|
|
Lands.
|
|
|
|
X. If this has been the Case with any Colony; or if the Debt of
|
|
the Colony to _Great Britain_ has been increasing for several Years
|
|
successively, it is a Demonstration that the Ballance of Trade is
|
|
against them: But on the Contrary, if the Debt to _Great Britain_ is
|
|
lessening yearly, or not increasing, it is as evident, that the
|
|
Ballance of Trade is not against them; notwithstanding the Currency
|
|
of that Colony may be falling gradually all the while.
|
|
|
|
I shall now proceed to the Scheme for fixing the Value of a
|
|
Paper Currency, _viz_.
|
|
|
|
XI. Let it be supposed, that in some one of the Colonies the
|
|
Sum of 110,000 in Bills of Credit was proposed to be struck, and all
|
|
other Currencies to be called in and destroyed; and that 133 _l_. 6
|
|
_s_. 8 _d_. in these Bills should be equivalent to 100 _l_. Sterling;
|
|
which likewise would make the said Bills equal to Foreign Coins, at
|
|
the Rates settled by the Act of Parliament made in the Sixth Year of
|
|
Queen Anne_. At which Rate, according to this Scheme, it may be as
|
|
well settled as at any other.
|
|
|
|
XII. Let _One Hundred Thousand Pounds_ be emitted on Loan, upon
|
|
good Securities, either in Land or Plate, according to the Method
|
|
used in _Pensylvania_, the Borrowers to pay _Five per Cent per Annum_
|
|
Interest, together with a _Twentieth_ Part of the Principal, which
|
|
would give the Government an Opportunity of sinking it by Degrees, if
|
|
any Alteration in the Circumstances of the Province should make it
|
|
necessary: But if no such Necessity appeared, so much of the
|
|
Principal as should be paid in, might be re-emitted on the same Terms
|
|
as before.
|
|
|
|
XIII. The other _Ten Thousand_ Pounds to be laid out in such
|
|
Commodities as should be most likely to yield a Profit at Foreign
|
|
Markets, to be ship'd off on Account of the Colony, in order to raise
|
|
a Fund or Bank in _England_: Which Sum, so laid out, would in two
|
|
Years time, be returned into the Office again by the Interest Money.
|
|
|
|
XIV. The Trustees or Managers of this Bank to be impowered and
|
|
directed to supply all Persons that should apply to them, with Bills
|
|
of Exchange, to be drawn on the Colony's Banker in _London_, at the
|
|
aforesaid Rate of 133 _l_. 6 _s_. 8 _d_. of the said Bills of Credit
|
|
for 100 _l_. Sterling. The Monies thus brought in, to be laid out
|
|
again as before, and replaced in _England_ in the said Bank with all
|
|
convenient Speed: And as these provincial Bills would have, at least,
|
|
as good a Credit as those of any private Person; every Man, who had
|
|
occasion to draw, would, of Course, be obliged to dispose of his
|
|
Bills at the same Rate.
|
|
|
|
|
|
XV. It is by Means of this Bank, that it is proposed to
|
|
regulate the Rate of Exchange; and therefore it would be necessary to
|
|
make it so large, or procure the Trustees such a Credit in _London_,
|
|
as should discourage and prevent any mischievous Combinations for
|
|
draining it and rendering the Design useless. I know of no
|
|
Inconvenience that could arise by allotting double the proposed Sum
|
|
for that Service, but that the annual Interest would be lessen'd;
|
|
which in some Governments has been found a useful Engine for
|
|
defraying the publick Expence. But if only a Credit should be
|
|
thought needful, over and above the said Sum, and upon some Emergency
|
|
Recourse should be had to it, the Interest-Money would soon afford
|
|
sufficient Means for answering that Credit.
|
|
|
|
XVI. The Trustees might further be impowered and directed, to
|
|
take in Foreign Coins, at the Rates prescribed by the Act of
|
|
Parliament, from those who wanted to change them for Paper Currency,
|
|
and to exchange for those who wanted Gold and Silver. This, it is
|
|
imagined, might reduce those Coins again to a Currency, which now are
|
|
only bought and sold as a Commodity. Or, if it should be judged more
|
|
advantageous to the Credit of the Paper-Currency, Part of the
|
|
Proceeds of what should be sent abroad, might be returned to the
|
|
Province in Gold and Silver, for creating a Fund here.
|
|
|
|
XVII. I hope it will appear upon examining into the
|
|
Circumstances of the Paper-Money-Colonies, by the Rule proposed
|
|
above, that the Ballance of Trade has not been so much against them
|
|
as is commonly imagined; but that the Fall of their Currencies, with
|
|
Respect to Sterling, and to Gold and Silver, has been chiefly
|
|
occasioned either by some such Accidents as are above shewed to
|
|
influence it; which by this Scheme will be all prevented: Or to their
|
|
being issued without any good Foundation for supporting their Credit,
|
|
such as a Land Security, _&c_. However that be, I think, there can
|
|
be no room, upon our Plan, to fear, that the Credit of the
|
|
Paper-Currency can be injur'd, even though the Ballance of Trade were
|
|
against the Colony, while their Bank in _London_ can be duely
|
|
supported.
|
|
|
|
From the sad Consequence of a losing Trade, _viz_. that of
|
|
having the Property of the Lands transferr'd to another Country, it
|
|
appears absolutely necessary for every Colony, that finds or suspects
|
|
that to be its own Case, to think timely of all proper Means for
|
|
preventing it; such as encouraging Iron-Works, Ship-building, raising
|
|
and manufacturing of Hemp and Flax, and all other Manufactures not
|
|
prohibited by their Mother Country. They might likewise save
|
|
considerable Sums, which are now sent to _England_, by setting up and
|
|
establishing an Insurance-Office. This, I think, might effectually
|
|
be done by an Act of Assembly for impowering the Trustees of the
|
|
Loan-Office to subscribe all Policies that should be brought to them,
|
|
on such Terms as should be settled by the said Trustees jointly with
|
|
a Committee of Assembly, at a Meeting for that Purpose, once a Month,
|
|
or oftner if necessary. Besides the saving to the Country in the
|
|
Article of Trade, it would probably yield a considerable yearly
|
|
Income towards the Support of Government; it being evident, that most
|
|
prudent Insurers are great Gainers upon the Whole of their
|
|
Insurances, after all Losses are deducted.
|
|
|
|
Upon the Execution of this Scheme, I am persuaded, two very
|
|
great Advantages must accrue; _First_, That the Export would be
|
|
increased, and consequently bring the Ballance of Trade more in
|
|
favour of the Province: And, _Secondly_, that the Rate of Exchange
|
|
would be fixed and ascertained; which, 'tis hoped, would effectually
|
|
remove the Prejudices which the Merchants in _England_ seem to have
|
|
conceived against a Paper Currency in the Colonies.
|
|
|
|
_The General Magazine_, February, 1741
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Letter from Theophilus,
|
|
Relating to the Divine Prescience_
|
|
|
|
_To the Author of the_ GENERAL MAGAZINE.
|
|
SIR,
|
|
There is a Question in the Schools, and I think generally
|
|
resolved in the Affirmative; _Whether God concurs with all human
|
|
Actions or not?_ That is, Whether he be the principal efficient Cause
|
|
of every Action we produce? This Question, I say, is generally
|
|
resolved in the Affirmative: And the _Reason_ they give is this;
|
|
_Because,_ say they, _if God did not concur with every Action that's
|
|
produc'd, then there would be an Action, and consequently some Being,
|
|
independent of God, which is absurd: Therefore,_ &c.
|
|
|
|
It hath been the Opinion of many great and learned Men, that
|
|
second Causes have no proper Activity of their own; but that God acts
|
|
directly and immediately in them and by them; that he produces all
|
|
the Acts of Thinking, and all the Volitions or Acts of Willing; and
|
|
that he has from all Eternity decreed, _That he will do with such and
|
|
such a Creature, at such a Time, such and such Acts;_ which shall
|
|
_infallibly_ come to pass, the contrary whereof could not fall out
|
|
from any Principle in the Creature; that the Creature neither can nor
|
|
ought to have any thing real, nor positively do any Act but what God
|
|
produces in it.
|
|
|
|
There is no Possibility, they think, of defending the Doctrine
|
|
of the _Divine Prescience_, if this be deny'd. For nothing can be
|
|
foreknown that is contingent in its own Nature; but every Action
|
|
depending upon the Will of an Agent, left at Liberty to do as it
|
|
pleases, is contingent, _i. e._ it may or may not happen, and
|
|
therefore cannot be foreknown: For when any Being knows that a Thing
|
|
will be, it must be, otherwise it could not be an Object of
|
|
Knowledge: It is absolutely impossible to know, that any Event _will_
|
|
come to pass, that _may not_ come to pass.
|
|
|
|
So that whoever denies God's immediate Concourse with every
|
|
Action we produce, must of Consequence deny God's Foreknowledge.
|
|
|
|
I should be glad therefore to see some Remarks made upon this
|
|
Subject; and knowing of no better Method to invite some proper Person
|
|
to undertake it, I make bold to desire you to insert the Contents
|
|
hereof in the _General Magazine_ for the Month of _March_, and you
|
|
will oblige
|
|
_Your constant Reader, and
|
|
most humble Servant,_
|
|
THEOPHILUS.
|
|
|
|
_The General Magazine_, March, 1741
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Obituary of Andrew Hamilton_
|
|
|
|
On the 4th Instant, died ANDREW HAMILTON, Esq; and was the next
|
|
Day inter'd at _Bush-Hill_, his Country Seat. His Corps was attended
|
|
to the Grave by a great Number of his Friends, deeply affected with
|
|
their own, but more with their Country's Loss. He lived not without
|
|
Enemies: For, as he was himself open and honest, he took pains to
|
|
unmask the Hypocrite, and boldly censured the Knave, without regard
|
|
to Station and Profession. Such, therefore, may exult at his Death.
|
|
He steadily maintained the Cause of Liberty; and the Laws made,
|
|
during the time he was Speaker of the Assembly, which was many Years,
|
|
will be a lasting Monument of his Affection to the People, and of his
|
|
Concern for the welfare of this Province. He was no Friend to Power,
|
|
as he had observed an ill use had been frequently made of it in the
|
|
Colonies; and therefore was seldom upon good Terms with Governors.
|
|
This Prejudice, however, did not always determine his Conduct towards
|
|
them; for where he saw they meant well, he was for supporting them
|
|
honourably, and was indefatigable in endeavouring to remove the
|
|
Prejudices of others. He was long at the Top of his Profession here,
|
|
and had he been as griping as he was knowing and active, he might
|
|
have left a much greater Fortune to his Family than he has done: But
|
|
he spent more Time in hearing and reconciling Differences in private,
|
|
to the Loss of his Fees, than he did in pleading Causes at the Bar.
|
|
He was just, where he sat as a Judge; and tho' he was stern and
|
|
severe in his Manner, he was compassionate in his Nature, and very
|
|
slow to punish. He was the Poor Man's Friend, and was never known to
|
|
with-hold his Purse or Service from the Indigent or Oppressed. He
|
|
was a tender Husband and a fond Parent: But -- these are Virtues
|
|
which Fools and Knaves have sometimes in common with the Wise and the
|
|
Honest. His free Manner of treating Religious Subjects, gave Offence
|
|
to many, who, if a Man may judge by their Actions, were not
|
|
themselves much in earnest. He feared God, loved Mercy, and did
|
|
Justice: If he could not subscribe to the Creed of any particular
|
|
Church, it was not for want of considering them All; for he had read
|
|
much on Religious Subjects. He went through a tedious Sickness with
|
|
uncommon Chearfulness, Constancy and Courage. Nothing of affected
|
|
Bravery or Ostentation appeared; But such a Composure and Tranquility
|
|
of Mind, as results from the Reflection of a Life spent agreeable to
|
|
the best of a Man's Judgment. He preserved his Understanding and his
|
|
Regard for his Friends to the last Moment. What was given as a Rule
|
|
for a Poet, upon another Occasion, may be justly apply'd to Him upon
|
|
this,
|
|
------ _Servetur ad imum
|
|
Qualis ab incepto processerit, & sibi constet._
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, August 6, 1741
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Obituary of James Merrewether_
|
|
|
|
On Sunday last died after a short Illness, JAMES MERREWETHER, a
|
|
Person somewhat obscure, and of an unpromising Appearance, but
|
|
esteem'd by those few who enjoy'd an Intimacy with him, to be one of
|
|
the honestest, best, and wisest Men in Philadelphia.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 22, 1742
|
|
|
|
|
|
_I Sing My Plain Country Joan_
|
|
|
|
Poor RICHARD's Description of his
|
|
Country WIFE JOAN.
|
|
|
|
_A_ SONG -- TUNE, _The Hounds are all out_.
|
|
|
|
1. Of their _Chloes_ and _Phyllises_ Poets may prate,
|
|
I will sing my plain COUNTRY JOAN;
|
|
Twice twelve Years my Wife, still the Joy of my Life:
|
|
Bless'd Day that I made her my own,
|
|
_My dear Friends._
|
|
Bless'd Day that I made her my own.
|
|
|
|
|
|
2. Not a Word of her Shape, or her Face, or her Eyes,
|
|
Of Flames or of Darts shall you hear:
|
|
Though I BEAUTY admire, 'tis VIRTUE I prize,
|
|
Which fades not in seventy Years.
|
|
|
|
3. In Health a Companion delightful and gay,
|
|
Still easy, engaging, and free;
|
|
In Sickness no less than the faithfullest Nurse,
|
|
As tender as tender can be.
|
|
|
|
4. In Peace and good Order my Houshold she guides,
|
|
Right careful to save what I gain;
|
|
Yet chearfully spends, and smiles on the Friends
|
|
I've the Pleasure to entertain.
|
|
|
|
5. Am I laden with Care, she takes off a large Share,
|
|
That the Burden ne'er makes me to reel;
|
|
Does good Fortune arrive, the Joy of my Wife
|
|
Quite doubles the Pleasure I feel.
|
|
|
|
6. She defends my good Name, even when I'm to blame,
|
|
Friend firmer to Man ne'er was given:
|
|
Her compassionate Breast feels for all the distress'd,
|
|
Which draws down the Blessings of Heaven.
|
|
|
|
7. In Raptures the giddy Rake talks of his Fair,
|
|
Enjoyment will make him despise.
|
|
I speak my cool Sense, which long Exper'ence
|
|
And Acquaintance has chang'd in no Wise.
|
|
|
|
8. The Best have some Faults, and so has My JOAN,
|
|
But then they're exceedingly small,
|
|
And, now I'm us'd to 'em, they're so like my own,
|
|
I scarcely can feel them at all.
|
|
|
|
9. Was the fairest young Princess, with Millions in Purse,
|
|
To be had in Exchange for My JOAN,
|
|
She could not be a better Wife, might be a worse,
|
|
So I'll stick to My JUGGY alone,
|
|
|
|
_A Proposal for Promoting Useful Knowledge Among the British
|
|
Plantations in America_
|
|
|
|
The _English_ are possess'd of a long Tract of Continent, from
|
|
_Nova Scotia_ to _Georgia_, extending North and South thro' different
|
|
Climates, having different Soils, producing different Plants, Mines
|
|
and Minerals, and capable of different Improvements, Manufactures,
|
|
_&c._
|
|
|
|
The first Drudgery of Settling new Colonies, which confines the
|
|
Attention of People to mere Necessaries, is now pretty well over; and
|
|
there are many in every Province in Circumstances that set them at
|
|
Ease, and afford Leisure to cultivate the finer Arts, and improve the
|
|
common Stock of Knowledge. To such of these who are Men of
|
|
Speculation, many Hints must from time to time arise, many
|
|
Observa-tions occur, which if well-examined, pursued and improved,
|
|
might produce Discoveries to the Advantage of some or all of the
|
|
_British_ Plantations, or to the Benefit of Mankind in general.
|
|
|
|
But as from the Extent of the Country such Persons are widely
|
|
separated, and seldom can see and converse or be acquainted with each
|
|
other, so that many useful Particulars remain uncommunicated, die
|
|
with the Discoverers, and are lost to Mankind; it is, to remedy this
|
|
Inconvenience for the future, proposed,
|
|
|
|
That One Society be formed of Virtuosi or ingenious Men
|
|
residing in the several Colonies, to be called _The American
|
|
Philosophical Society_; who are to maintain a constant
|
|
Correspondence.
|
|
|
|
That _Philadelphia_ being the City nearest the Centre of the
|
|
Continent-Colonies, communicating with all of them northward and
|
|
southward by Post, and with all the Islands by Sea, and having the
|
|
Advantage of a good growing Library, be the Centre of the Society.
|
|
|
|
That at _Philadelphia_ there be always at least seven Members,
|
|
_viz_. a Physician, a Botanist, a Mathematician, a Chemist, a
|
|
Mechanician, a Geographer, and a general Natural Philosopher, besides
|
|
a President, Treasurer and Secretary.
|
|
|
|
|
|
That these Members meet once a Month, or oftner, at their own
|
|
Expence, to communicate to each other their Observations,
|
|
Experiments, _&c._ to receive, read and consider such Letters,
|
|
Communications, or Queries as shall be sent from distant Members; to
|
|
direct the Dispersing of Copies of such Communications as are
|
|
valuable, to other distant Members, in order to procure their
|
|
Sentiments thereupon, _&c._
|
|
|
|
That the Subjects of the Correspondence be, All new-discovered
|
|
Plants, Herbs, Trees, Roots, _&c._ their Virtues, Uses, _&c._ Methods
|
|
of Propagating them, and making such as are useful, but particular to
|
|
some Plantations, more general. Improvements of vegetable Juices, as
|
|
Cyders, Wines, _&c_. New Methods of Curing or Preventing Diseases.
|
|
All new-discovered Fossils in different Countries, as Mines,
|
|
Minerals, Quarries, _&c_. New and useful Improvements in any Branch
|
|
of Mathematicks. New Discoveries in Chemistry, such as Improvements
|
|
in Distillation, Brewing, Assaying of Ores, _&c_. New Mechanical
|
|
Inventions for saving Labour; as Mills, Carriages, _&c_. and for
|
|
Raising and Conveying of Water, Draining of Meadows, _&c_. All new
|
|
Arts, Trades, Manufactures, _&c_. that may be proposed or thought of.
|
|
Surveys, Maps and Charts of particular Parts of the Sea-coasts, or
|
|
Inland Countries; Course and Junction of Rivers and great Roads,
|
|
Sit-uation of Lakes and Mountains, Nature of the Soil and
|
|
Productions, _&c_. New Methods of Improving the Breed of useful
|
|
Animals; Introducing other Sorts from foreign Countries. New
|
|
Improvements in Planting, Gardening, Clearing Land, _&c_. And all
|
|
philosophical Experiments that let Light into the Nature of Things,
|
|
tend to increase the Power of Man over Matter, and multiply the
|
|
Conveniencies or Pleasures of Life.
|
|
|
|
That a Correspondence already begun by some intended Members,
|
|
shall be kept up by this Society with the ROYAL SOCIETY of _London_,
|
|
and with the DUBLIN SOCIETY.
|
|
|
|
That every Member shall have Abstracts sent him Quarterly, of
|
|
every Thing valuable communicated to the Society's Secretary at
|
|
_Philadelphia_; free of all Charge except the Yearly Payment
|
|
hereafter mentioned.
|
|
|
|
That by Permission of the Postmaster-General, such
|
|
Communications pass between the Secretary of the Society and the
|
|
Members, Postage-free.
|
|
|
|
That for defraying the Expence of such Experiments as the
|
|
Society shall judge proper to cause to be made, and other contingent
|
|
Charges for the common Good, every Member send a Piece of Eight _per
|
|
Annum_ to the Treasurer, at _Philadelphia_, to form a Common Stock,
|
|
to be disburs'd by Order of the President with the Consent of the
|
|
Majority of the Members that can conveniently be consulted thereupon,
|
|
to such Persons and Places where and by whom the Experiments are to
|
|
be made, and otherwise as there shall be Occasion; of which
|
|
Disbursements an exact Account shall be kept, and communicated yearly
|
|
to every Member.
|
|
|
|
That at the first Meetings of the Members at _Philadelphia_,
|
|
such Rules be formed for Regulating their Meetings and Transactions
|
|
for the General Benefit, as shall be convenient and necessary; to be
|
|
afterwards changed and improv'd as there shall be Occasion, wherein
|
|
due Regard is to be had to the Advice of distant Members.
|
|
|
|
That at the End of every Year, Collections be made and printed,
|
|
of such Experiments, Discoveries, Improvements, _&c_. as may be
|
|
thought of publick Advantage: And that every Member have a Copy sent
|
|
him.
|
|
|
|
That the Business and Duty of the Secretary be, To receive all
|
|
Letters intended for the Society, and lay them before the President
|
|
and Members at their Meetings; to abstract, correct and methodize
|
|
such Papers, _&c_. as require it, and as he shall be directed to do
|
|
by the President, after they have been considered, debated and
|
|
digested in the Society; to enter Copies thereof in the Society's
|
|
Books, and make out Copies for distant Members; to answer their
|
|
Letters by Direction of the President, and keep Records of all
|
|
material Transactions of the Society, _&c_.
|
|
|
|
_Benjamin Franklin_, the Writer of this Proposal, offers
|
|
himself to serve the Society as their Secretary, 'till they shall be
|
|
provided with one more capable.
|
|
_Philadelphia, May_ 14. 1743.
|
|
|
|
Philadelphia, broadside, 1743
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Apology for the Young Man in Goal_
|
|
|
|
_An_ Apology _for the young Man in Goal, and in Shackles, for
|
|
ravishing an old Woman of_ 85 _at_ Whitemarsh, _who had only one Eye,
|
|
and that a red one_.
|
|
|
|
Unhappy Youth, that could not longer stay,
|
|
Till by old Age thy Choice had dy'd away;
|
|
A few Days more had given to thy Arms,
|
|
Free from the Laws, her aged Lump of Charms,
|
|
Which, tho' defunct, might feel not less alive
|
|
Than we imagine Maids of Eighty-five;
|
|
Or hadst thou staid till t'other Eye was gone,
|
|
Thou mightst have lov'd and jogg'd securely on.
|
|
Yet may thy Council urge this prudent Plea,
|
|
That by one Crime, thou has avoided three;
|
|
For had a Mare or Sow attack'd thy Love,
|
|
No human Form to save thy Life would move;
|
|
Or had thy Lust been offer'd to a Male,
|
|
All Vindications would and ought to fail;
|
|
Or hadst thou sought a blooming Virgin's Rape,
|
|
Thou shouldst not from the Penalty escape:
|
|
But when the Object is long past her Flow'r,
|
|
And brings no County-Charge, and wants no Dow'r;
|
|
Who, slighted all her Life, would fain be ravish'd,
|
|
Thou shouldst be pity'd for thy Love so lavish'd.
|
|
|
|
_The American Weekly Mercury_, September 15, 1743
|
|
|
|
_An Over-Masted Privateer_
|
|
|
|
Sunday last the Tartar, Capt. Mackey, sail'd down the Bay in
|
|
order to proceed on his Cruise, but being (as 'tis said) over-masted,
|
|
and not well ballasted, she was unfortunately overset, by a slight
|
|
Flaw of Wind, near the Capes, and sunk immediately in about 8 Fathom
|
|
Water. The Captain with about 60 Officers and Seamen were saved in
|
|
her Long-boat, and went ashore at the Cape; 14 were taken up by Capt.
|
|
Plasket in a Pilot Boat; and Capt. Claes, who was coming in from
|
|
Barbadoes, ran his Vessel near the Ship, and took up 47. The rest
|
|
perished. 'Tis expected she will soon be weigh'd, and with some
|
|
Alterations, fitted out again, as she is a most extraordinary Sailor;
|
|
so that we hope our Enemies will hardly hear of the Misfortune,
|
|
before they find they have no great Reason to rejoice at it.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, July 5, 1744
|
|
|
|
|
|
_American Privateers_
|
|
|
|
'Tis computed that there are and will be before Winter 113 Sail
|
|
of Privateers at Sea, from the _British American_ Colonies; most of
|
|
them stout Vessels and abundantly well mann'd. A Naval Force, equal
|
|
(some say) to that of the Crown of _Great-Britain_ in the Time of
|
|
Queen _Elizabeth_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, August 30, 1744
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Account of Louisburgh_
|
|
|
|
As the _CAPE-BRETON_ Expedition is at present the Subject of
|
|
most Conversations, we hope the following Draught (rough as it is,
|
|
for want of good Engravers here) will be acceptable to our Readers;
|
|
as it may serve to give them an Idea of the Strength and Situation of
|
|
the Town now besieged by our Forces, and render the News we receive
|
|
from thence more intelligible.
|
|
|
|
EXPLANATION.
|
|
|
|
1. The Island Battery, at the Mouth of the Harbour, mounting 34
|
|
Guns, ------ Pounders. This Battery can rake Ships
|
|
|
|
PLAN of the Town and Harbour of _LOUISBURGH_.
|
|
|
|
fore and aft before they come to the Harbour's Mouth, and take
|
|
them in the Side as they are passing in.
|
|
|
|
2. The Grand Battery, of 36 Forty-two Pounders, planted right
|
|
against the Mouth of the Harbour, and can rake Ships fore and aft as
|
|
they enter.
|
|
|
|
3. The Town N. East Battery, which mounts 18 Twenty-four
|
|
Pounders on two Faces, which can play on the Ships as soon as they
|
|
have entered the Harbour.
|
|
|
|
4. The Circular Battery, which mounts 16 Twenty four Pounders,
|
|
stands on high Ground, and overlooks all the Works. This Battery can
|
|
also gaul Ships, as soon as they enter the Harbour.
|
|
|
|
5. Three Flanks, mounting 2 Eighteen Pounders each.
|
|
|
|
6. A small Battery, which mounts 8 Nine Pounders. All these
|
|
Guns command any Ship in the Harbour.
|
|
|
|
|
|
7. The Fort or Citadel, fortified distinctly from the Town, in
|
|
which the Governor lives.
|
|
|
|
8. A Rock, called the Barrel.
|
|
T The Center of the Town. L The Light-House.
|
|
Every Bastion of the Town Wall has Embrasures or Ports for a
|
|
Number of Guns to defend the Land Side.
|
|
The black Strokes drawn from the several Batteries, shew the
|
|
Lines in which the Shot may be directed.
|
|
|
|
_CAPE-BRETON_ Island, on which _Louisburgh_ is built, lies on
|
|
the South of the Gulph of _St. Lawrence_, and commands the Entrance
|
|
into that River, and the Country of _Canada_. It is reckon'd 140
|
|
Leagues in Circuit, full of fine Bays and Harbours, extreamly
|
|
convenient for Fishing Stages. It was always reckon'd a Part of
|
|
_Nova-Scotia_. For the Importance of this Place see our _Gazette_,
|
|
No. 858. As soon as the French King had begun the present unjust War
|
|
against the English, the People of _Louisburgh_ attack'd the
|
|
_New-England_ Town of _Canso_, consisting of about 150 Houses and a
|
|
Fort, took it, burnt it to the Ground, and carried away the People,
|
|
Men, Women and Children, Prisoners. They then laid Siege to
|
|
_Annapolis Royal_, and would have taken it, if seasonable Assistance
|
|
had not been sent from _Boston_. Mr. _Duvivier_ went home to
|
|
_France_ last Fall for more Soldiers, _&c_. to renew that Attempt,
|
|
and for Stores for Privateers, of which they proposed to fit out a
|
|
great Number this Summer, being the last Year unprovided: Yet one of
|
|
their Cruisers only, took 4 Sail in a few Days, off our Capes, to a
|
|
very considerable Value. What might we have expected from a dozen
|
|
Sail, making each 3 or 4 Cruises a Year? They boasted that during
|
|
the War they should have no Occasion to cut Fire-Wood, for that the
|
|
Jackstaves of English Vessels would be a Supply sufficient. It is
|
|
therefore in their own NECESSARY DEFENCE, as well as that of all the
|
|
other _British_ Colonies, that the People of _New-England_ have
|
|
undertaken the present Expedition against that Place, to which may
|
|
the _GOD OF HOSTS_ grant Success. _Amen_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 6, 1745
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Old Mistresses Apologue_
|
|
|
|
My dear Friend, June 25. 1745
|
|
I know of no Medicine fit to diminish the violent natural
|
|
Inclinations you mention; and if I did, I think I should not
|
|
communicate it to you. Marriage is the proper Remedy. It is the
|
|
most natural State of Man, and therefore the State in which you are
|
|
most likely to find solid Happiness. Your Reasons against entring
|
|
into it at present, appear to me not well-founded. The
|
|
circumstantial Advantages you have in View by postponing it, are not
|
|
only uncertain, but they are small in comparison with that of the
|
|
Thing itself, the being _married and settled_. It is the Man and
|
|
Woman united that make the compleat human Being. Separate, she wants
|
|
his Force of Body and Strength of Reason; he, her Softness,
|
|
Sensibility and acute Discernment. Together they are more likely to
|
|
succeed in the World. A single Man has not nearly the Value he would
|
|
have in that State of Union. He is an incomplete Animal. He
|
|
resembles the odd Half of a Pair of Scissars. If you get a prudent
|
|
healthy Wife, your Industry in your Profession, with her good
|
|
Economy, will be a Fortune sufficient.
|
|
|
|
But if you will not take this Counsel, and persist in thinking
|
|
a Commerce with the Sex inevitable, then I repeat my former Advice,
|
|
that in all your Amours you should _prefer old Women to young ones_.
|
|
You call this a Paradox, and demand my Reasons. They are these:
|
|
|
|
1. Because as they have more Knowledge of the World and their
|
|
Minds are better stor'd with Observations, their Conversation is more
|
|
improving and more lastingly agreable.
|
|
|
|
2. Because when Women cease to be handsome, they study to be
|
|
good. To maintain their Influence over Men, they supply the
|
|
Diminution of Beauty by an Augmentation of Utility. They learn to do
|
|
a 1000 Services small and great, and are the most tender and useful
|
|
of all Friends when you are sick. Thus they continue amiable. And
|
|
hence there is hardly such a thing to be found as an old Woman who is
|
|
not a good Woman.
|
|
|
|
3. Because there is no hazard of Children, which irregularly
|
|
produc'd may be attended with much Inconvenience.
|
|
|
|
4. Because thro' more Experience, they are more prudent and
|
|
discreet in conducting an Intrigue to prevent Suspicion. The
|
|
Commerce with them is therefore safer with regard to your Reputation.
|
|
And with regard to theirs, if the Affair should happen to be known,
|
|
considerate People might be rather inclin'd to excuse an old Woman
|
|
who would kindly take care of a young Man, form his Manners by her
|
|
good Counsels, and prevent his ruining his Health and Fortune among
|
|
mercenary Prostitutes.
|
|
|
|
5. Because in every Animal that walks upright, the Deficiency
|
|
of the Fluids that fill the Muscles appears first in the highest
|
|
Part: The Face first grows lank and wrinkled; then the Neck; then the
|
|
Breast and Arms; the lower Parts continuing to the last as plump as
|
|
ever: So that covering all above with a Basket, and regarding only
|
|
what is below the Girdle, it is impossible of two Women to know an
|
|
old from a young one. And as in the dark all Cats are grey, the
|
|
Pleasure of corporal Enjoyment with an old Woman is at least equal,
|
|
and frequently superior, every Knack being by Practice capable of
|
|
Improvement.
|
|
|
|
6. Because the Sin is less. The debauching a Virgin may be her
|
|
Ruin, and make her for Life unhappy.
|
|
|
|
7. Because the Compunction is less. The having made a young
|
|
Girl _miserable_ may give you frequent bitter Reflections; none of
|
|
which can attend the making an old Woman _happy_.
|
|
|
|
8thly and Lastly They are _so grateful!!_
|
|
|
|
Thus much for my Paradox. But still I advise you to marry
|
|
directly; being sincerely Your affectionate Friend.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Antediluvians Were All Very Sober_
|
|
|
|
The Antediluvians were all very sober
|
|
For they had no Wine, and they brew'd no October;
|
|
All wicked, bad Livers, on Mischief still thinking,
|
|
For there can't be good Living where there is not good
|
|
Drinking.
|
|
Derry down
|
|
|
|
|
|
'Twas honest old Noah first planted the Vine,
|
|
And mended his Morals by drinking its Wine;
|
|
He justly the drinking of Water decry'd;
|
|
For he knew that all Mankind, by drinking it, dy'd.
|
|
Derry down.
|
|
|
|
From this Piece of History plainly we find
|
|
That Water's good neither for Body or Mind;
|
|
That Virtue and Safety in Wine-bibbing's found
|
|
While all that drink Water deserve to be drown'd.
|
|
Derry down
|
|
|
|
So For Safety and Honesty put the Glass round.
|
|
|
|
_Appreciation of George Whitefield_
|
|
|
|
On Sunday the 20th Instant, the Rev. Mr. _Whitefield_ preach'd
|
|
twice, tho' apparently much indispos'd, to large Congregations in the
|
|
New-Building in this City, and the next Day set out for New-York.
|
|
When we seriously consider how incessantly this faithful Servant (not
|
|
yet 32 Years old) has, for about 10 Years past, laboured in his great
|
|
Master's Vineyard, with an Alacrity and fervent Zeal, which an infirm
|
|
Constitution, still daily declining, cannot abate; and which have
|
|
triumphed over the most vigorous Opposition from whole Armies of
|
|
invidious Preachers and Pamphleteers; under whose Performances, the
|
|
Pulpits and Presses, of _Great-Britain_ and _America_, have groaned;
|
|
We may reasonably think with the learned Dr. Watts_, "That he is a
|
|
Man raised up by Providence in an uncommon Way, to awaken a stupid
|
|
and ungodly World, to a Sense of the important Affairs of Religion
|
|
and Eternity:" And the Lines of Mr. _Wesley_, concerning another
|
|
young Methodist, may justly be applied to his dear Friend
|
|
_Whitefield_ --
|
|
|
|
_Wise in his Prime, he waited not for Noon,
|
|
Convinc'd that Mortals never liv'd too soon;
|
|
As if foreboding here his little Stay,
|
|
He makes his Morning bear the Heat of Day.
|
|
No fair Occasion glides unheeded by,
|
|
Snatching the Golden Moments as they fly,
|
|
He by few fleeting Hours ensures Eternity._
|
|
|
|
His Sermons here this Summer have given general Satisfaction,
|
|
and plainly proved the great Ability of the Preacher. His rich
|
|
Fancy, sound and ripening Judgment, and extensive Acquaintance with
|
|
Men and Books of useful Literature, have been acknowledg'd by every
|
|
unprejudiced Person. Purity of Language, Perspicuity of Method, a
|
|
ready Elocution, an engaging Address, and an apt Gesture, peculiar to
|
|
this accomplish'd Orator, consider'd with his unspotted Character in
|
|
private Life, have added Force to the plain strong Arguments, and
|
|
pathetick Expostulations, wherewith his Discourses abounded. And, it
|
|
cannot be doubted, that many have been awaken'd to a Sense of the
|
|
Importance of Religion, and others have been built up in their most
|
|
holy Christian Faith under his Ministry.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, July 31, 1746
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Speech of Miss Polly Baker_
|
|
|
|
_The SPEECH of Miss_ Polly Baker, _before a Court of
|
|
Judicature, at_ Connecticut _in_ New England, _where she was
|
|
prosecuted the fifth Time for having a Bastard Child; which
|
|
influenced the Court to dispense with her Punishment, and induced one
|
|
of her Judges to marry her the next Day_.
|
|
|
|
May it please the Honourable Bench to indulge me a few Words: I
|
|
am a poor unhappy Woman; who have no Money to Fee Lawyers to plead
|
|
for me, being hard put to it to get a tolerable Living. I shall not
|
|
trouble your Honours with long Speeches; for I have not the
|
|
presumption to expect, that you may, by any Means, be prevailed on to
|
|
deviate in your Sentence from the Law, in my Favour. All I humbly
|
|
hope is, that your Honours would charitably move the Governor's
|
|
Goodness on my Behalf, that my Fine may be remitted. This is the
|
|
Fifth Time, Gentlemen, that I have been dragg'd before your Courts on
|
|
the same Account; twice I have paid heavy Fines, and twice have been
|
|
brought to public Punishment, for want of Money to pay those Fines.
|
|
This may have been agreeable to the Laws; I do not dispute it: But
|
|
since Laws are sometimes unreasonable in themselves, and therefore
|
|
repealed; and others bear too hard on the Subject in particular
|
|
Circumstances; and therefore there is left a Power somewhere to
|
|
dispense with the Execution of them; I take the Liberty to say, that
|
|
I think this Law, by which I am punished, is both unreasonable in
|
|
itself, and particularly severe with regard to me, who have always
|
|
lived an inoffensive Life in the Neighbourhood where I was born, and
|
|
defy my Enemies (if I have any) to say I ever wrong'd Man, Woman, or
|
|
Child. Abstracted from the Law, I cannot conceive (may it please
|
|
your Honours) what the Nature of my Offence is. I have brought Five
|
|
fine Children into the World, at the Risque of my Life: I have
|
|
maintained them well by my own Industry, without burthening the
|
|
Township, and could have done it better, if it had not been for the
|
|
heavy Charges and Fines I have paid. Can it be a Crime (in the
|
|
Nature of Things I mean) to add to the Number of the King's Subjects,
|
|
in a new Country that really wants People? I own I should think it
|
|
rather a Praise worthy, than a Punishable Action. I have debauch'd
|
|
no other Woman's Husband, nor inticed any innocent Youth: These
|
|
Things I never was charged with; nor has any one the least cause of
|
|
Complaint against me, unless, perhaps the Minister, or the Justice,
|
|
because I have had Children without being Married, by which they have
|
|
miss'd a Wedding Fee. But, can even this be a Fault of mine? I
|
|
appeal to your Honours. You are pleased to allow I don't want Sense;
|
|
but I must be stupid to the last Degree, not to prefer the honourable
|
|
State of Wedlock, to the Condition I have lived in. I always was,
|
|
and still am, willing to enter into it; I doubt not my Behaving well
|
|
in it, having all the Industry, Frugality, Fertility, and Skill in
|
|
Oeconomy, appertaining to a good Wife's Character. I defy any Person
|
|
to say I ever Refused an Offer of that Sort: On the contrary, I
|
|
readily Consented to the only Proposal of Marriage that ever was made
|
|
me, which was when I was a Virgin; but too easily confiding in the
|
|
Person's Sincerity that made it, I unhappily lost my own Honour, by
|
|
trusting to his; for he got me with Child, and then forsook me: That
|
|
very Person you all know; he is now become a Magistrate of this
|
|
County; and I had hopes he would have appeared this Day on the Bench,
|
|
and have endeavoured to moderate the Court in my Favour; then I
|
|
should have scorn'd to have mention'd it; but I must Complain of it
|
|
as unjust and unequal, that my Betrayer and Undoer, the first Cause
|
|
of all my Faults and Miscarriages (if they must be deemed such)
|
|
should be advanced to Honour and Power, in the same Government that
|
|
punishes my Misfortunes with Stripes and Infamy. I shall be told,
|
|
'tis like, that were there no Act of Assembly in the Case, the
|
|
Precepts of Religion are violated by my Transgressions. If mine,
|
|
then, is a religious Offence, leave it, Gentlemen, to religious
|
|
Punishments. You have already excluded me from all the Comforts of
|
|
your Church Communion: Is not that sufficient? You believe I have
|
|
offended Heaven, and must suffer eternal Fire: Will not that be
|
|
sufficient? What need is there, then, of your additional Fines and
|
|
Whippings? I own, I do not think as you do; for, if I thought, what
|
|
you call a Sin, was really such, I would not presumptuously commit
|
|
it. But how can it be believed, that Heaven is angry at my having
|
|
Children, when, to the little done by me towards it, God has been
|
|
pleased to add his divine Skill and admirable Workmanship in the
|
|
Formation of their Bodies, and crown'd it by furnishing them with
|
|
rational and immortal Souls? Forgive me Gentlemen, if I talk a
|
|
little extravagantly on these Matters; I am no Divine: But if you,
|
|
great Men, (*) must be making Laws, do not turn natural and useful
|
|
Actions into Crimes, by your Prohibitions. Reflect a little on the
|
|
horrid Consequences of this Law in particular: What Numbers of
|
|
procur'd Abortions! and how many distress'd Mothers have been driven,
|
|
by the Terror of Punishment and public Shame, to imbrue, contrary to
|
|
Nature, their own trembling Hands in the Blood of their helpless
|
|
Offspring! Nature would have induc'd them to nurse it up with a
|
|
Parent's Fondness. 'Tis the Law therefore, 'tis the Law itself that
|
|
is guilty of all these Barbarities and Murders. Repeal it then,
|
|
Gentlemen; let it be expung'd for ever from your Books: And on the
|
|
other hand, take into your wise Consideration, the great and growing
|
|
Number of Batchelors in the Country, many of whom, from the mean Fear
|
|
of the Expence of a Family, have never sincerely and honourably
|
|
Courted a Woman in their Lives; and by their Manner of Living, leave
|
|
unproduced (which I think is little better than Murder) Hundreds of
|
|
their Posterity to the Thousandth Generation. Is not theirs a
|
|
greater Offence against the Public Good, than mine? Compel them
|
|
then, by a Law, either to Marry, or pay double the Fine of
|
|
Fornication every Year. What must poor young Women do, whom Custom
|
|
has forbid to sollicit the Men, and who cannot force themselves upon
|
|
Husbands, when the Laws take no Care to provide them any, and yet
|
|
severely punish if they do their Duty without them? Yes, Gentlemen,
|
|
I venture to call it a Duty; 'tis the Duty of the first and great
|
|
Command of Nature, and of Nature's God, _Increase and multiply_: A
|
|
Duty, from the steady Performance of which nothing has ever been able
|
|
to deter me; but for it's Sake, I have hazarded the Loss of the
|
|
public Esteem, and frequently incurr'd public Disgrace and
|
|
Punishment; and therefore ought, in my humble Opinion, instead of a
|
|
Whipping, to have a Statue erected to my Memory.
|
|
|
|
(*) _Turning to some Gentlemen of the Assembly, then in Court.
|
|
|
|
_The Maryland Gazette_, August 11, 1747; first printed April
|
|
15, 1747
|
|
|
|
_Whitefield's Accounts_
|
|
|
|
_Extract of a Letter from the Reverend Mr._ Smith, _of_
|
|
Charles-Town, South-Carolina, _dated_ March 2. 1746-7.
|
|
|
|
"Mr. WHITEFIELD's excellent Parts, fine Elocution, and masterly
|
|
Address; His admirable Talent of opening the Scriptures, and
|
|
enforcing the most weighty Subjects upon the Conscience; His polite
|
|
and serious Behaviour; His unaffected and superior Piety; His
|
|
Prudence, Humility, and Catholick Spirit, are Things which must
|
|
silence and disarm Prejudice itself. By these Qualifications of the
|
|
_Orator_, the _Divine_, and the _Christian_, He has not only fixed
|
|
himself deeper in the Affections of his former Friends, but greatly
|
|
increased the Number wherever he has preached; and made his Way into
|
|
the Hearts of several, who, till this Visit, had said all the severe
|
|
Things against him that _Enmity_ itself seemed capable of. He now
|
|
seems to _reign_ over his Hearers, among whom are Gentlemen of the
|
|
best Figure and Estate we have, and has gained some, whose former
|
|
Prejudices one would have thought insuperable. As an Instance of our
|
|
Affection and Esteem, no sooner was the Motion started by some
|
|
particular Gentlemen, but, with the greatest Alacrity, and in a _very
|
|
short_ Time, we subscribed, and gave him, much above _Two Hundred
|
|
Pounds_ Sterling_; which we should not have done, but upon a firm
|
|
Persuasion of the Sincerity of his Intentions. We hope we have laid
|
|
an effectual Scheme for _tying_ him faster to _America_, which will
|
|
give us the Satisfaction of seeing a Man we so highly esteem the
|
|
oftener. These Things are so universally known in _this Town_, that
|
|
you have free Leave to publish them, and to affix the Name of,
|
|
_Dear Sir,_
|
|
_Your affectionate Friend and Servant,_
|
|
_JOSIAH SMITH_."
|
|
|
|
_Extract of another Letter from South-Carolina, dated March_
|
|
11_th_.
|
|
|
|
"It is with Pleasure I can now assure you, that the Rev. Mr.
|
|
_Whitefield_ has more Friends in _Charlestown_ among Gentlemen,
|
|
especially of Distinction and Substance, than ever heretofore. The
|
|
Orator in the Pulpit, and the Gentleman and the Christian, happily
|
|
united in Conversation, has triumph'd over a thousand Prejudices, and
|
|
is become the Admiration of several, who before had conceiv'd the
|
|
worst Idea of him imaginable. And since Actions are the best
|
|
Expositors of the Heart, we have not been content to court his
|
|
Company only, but, as a further Expression of our Esteem, have given
|
|
him between two and three hundred Pounds Sterling."
|
|
|
|
The above Extracts will, we doubt not, at once please the
|
|
Friends of the Reverend Mr. _Whitefield_, and convince every candid
|
|
Reader, that his Accounts of the Disposition of the Sums of Money
|
|
heretofore collected for the Use of his _Orphan House_ in _Georgia_
|
|
are just; since it cannot be conceived that Gentlemen, who live so
|
|
near to that House as _Charles-Town, South-Carolina_, and have daily
|
|
Opportunities of knowing how the Affair is conducted, should
|
|
contribute so generously to Mr. _Whitefield_, if they thought his
|
|
former Collections were not duly applied.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 23, 1747
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Verses on the Virginia Capitol Fire_
|
|
|
|
_Mr. Printer,_
|
|
It may entertain the curious and learned Part of your
|
|
Subscribers, if you give them the following genuine _Speech_ and
|
|
_Address_, which, for the _Importance_ of the _Subject_, _Grandeur_
|
|
of _Sentiment_, and _Elegance_ of _Expression_, perhaps exceed Any
|
|
they have hitherto seen. For the Benefit of more common Readers, I
|
|
have turn'd them, with some Paraphrase, into _plain English Verse_.
|
|
I am told by Friends, that my Performance is excellent: But I claim
|
|
no other Praise than what regards my _Rhyme_, and my _Perspicuity_.
|
|
All the other Beauties I acknowledge, are owing to the _Original_,
|
|
whose true Sense I have every where follow'd with a scrupulous
|
|
Exactness. If envious Critics should observe, that some of my Lines
|
|
are _too short_ in their Number of Feet, I own it; but then, to make
|
|
ample Amends, I have given _very good Measure_ in most of the others.
|
|
I am, Sir,
|
|
your constant Reader,
|
|
NED. TYPE.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
_The_ SPEECH _Versyfied_.
|
|
|
|
L --- d have Mercy on us! -- the CAPITOL! the CAPITOL!
|
|
is burnt down!
|
|
O astonishing Fate! -- which occasions this Meeting in
|
|
Town.
|
|
And this _Fate_ proves a _Loss_, to be deplored the more,
|
|
The said _Fate_ being th'_Effect_ of Malice and _Design_, to be
|
|
sure.
|
|
|
|
|
|
And yet 'tis hard to comprehend how a Crime of so
|
|
flagitious a Nature,
|
|
Should be committed, or even _imagined_, by any but an
|
|
_irrational_ Creature.
|
|
But when you consider, that the first _Emission of Smoke_ was
|
|
not from below,
|
|
And that Fires kindled by Accident _always burn slow_,
|
|
And not with half the Fury as when they _burn on Purpose_
|
|
you know
|
|
You'll be forced to ascribe it (with Hearts full of Sadness)
|
|
To the horrid Machinations of desperate Villains, instigated
|
|
by infernal Madness.
|
|
God forbid I should accuse or excuse any without just
|
|
Foundation,
|
|
Yet I may venture to assert, -- for our own Reputation,
|
|
That such superlative Wickedness never entred the Hearts of
|
|
_Virginians_, who are the CREAM of the _British_ Nation.
|
|
The Clerks have been examin'd, and clear'd by the May'r,
|
|
Yet are willing to be examin'd again by you, and that's fair.
|
|
And will prove in the Face of the Country, if requir'd,
|
|
That it was not by their _Conduct_ our Capitol was fir'd.
|
|
I must add, to do 'em Justice, that the Comfort we have,
|
|
In enjoying our authentic Registers, which those Clerks did
|
|
save,
|
|
Is owing to their Activity, Resolution and Diligence,
|
|
Together with Divine Providence.
|
|
All which would have been in vain, I protest,
|
|
If the Wind, at the bursting out of the Flames, had not
|
|
changed from _East_ to _Northwest_.
|
|
Our Treasury being low, and my Infirmities great,
|
|
I would have kept you prorogu'd till the Revisal of the Laws
|
|
was compleat;
|
|
But this Misfortune befalling the _Capitol_ of the Capital of
|
|
our Nation
|
|
Require your immediate Care and Assistance for its
|
|
_Instauration_.
|
|
To press you in a Point of such Usefulness manifest,
|
|
Would shew a Diffidence of your sincere Zeal for the public
|
|
Interest
|
|
For which you and I always make such a laudable Pother,
|
|
|
|
|
|
And for which we've so often _applauded one Another_.
|
|
The same public Spirit which within these Walls us'd to
|
|
direct you all,
|
|
Will determine you (as Fathers of your Country) to apply
|
|
Means effectual
|
|
For restoring the ROYAL FABRIC to its former Beauty
|
|
And Magnificence, according to your Duty;
|
|
With the like Apartments, elegant and spacious
|
|
For all the _weighty_ purposes of Government, so capacious.
|
|
Mean time the College and Court of Hustings our _Weight_
|
|
may sustain,
|
|
But pray let us speedily have our CAPITOL, our _important_
|
|
CAPITOL again.
|
|
|
|
_The COUNCIL's Answer_.
|
|
|
|
We the King's _best Subjects_, the Council of this
|
|
Dominion,
|
|
Are deeply affected (as is every true _Virginian_)
|
|
With the unhappy Occasion of our present Meeting:
|
|
------ In Troth we have but a sorry Greeting.
|
|
We are also not a little touch'd (in the Head) with the
|
|
same _Weakness_ as your Honour's,
|
|
And therefore think this raging Fire which consum'd our
|
|
_Capitol_, should incite us to reform our Manners:
|
|
The best _Expedient_ at present to avert the Indignation
|
|
divine,
|
|
And _nobly_ to express our _Gratitude_ for the _Justice_, which
|
|
(temper'd with Mercy) doth shine,
|
|
In _preserving_ our Records, tho' Red hot,
|
|
And like Brands pluck'd out of the Flames, in which they
|
|
were going to pot,
|
|
Without this _Expedient_ we shall be ruin'd quite. --
|
|
Besides, This FIRE puts us in Mind of NEW-LIGHT;
|
|
And we think it Heav'n's Judgment on us for tolerating the
|
|
Presbyterians,
|
|
Whose Forefathers drubb'd ours, about a hundred Year-hence.
|
|
We therefore resolve to abate a little of our Drinking,
|
|
Gaming, Cursing and Swearing,
|
|
|
|
|
|
And make up for the rest, by persecuting some itinerant
|
|
Presbyterian.
|
|
An _active Discharge_ of our _important_ Trusts, according to
|
|
your Honour's Desire,
|
|
Is the wisest _Project of Insurance_ that can be, of the Public
|
|
Safety, from the Attempts of such as would _set it
|
|
on fire_.
|
|
'Tis _a Project_ also for advancing the Honour and Interest of
|
|
our King and Nation,
|
|
And _a Project_ for engaging Heaven's Protection from
|
|
Generation to Generation.
|
|
We take this Opportunity, that we may not be suspected
|
|
of Malignity,
|
|
To congratulate you, Sir, on your Promotion to the
|
|
Baronet's Dignity;
|
|
A fresh Instance of just Regard to your long and faithful
|
|
Services we say,
|
|
Because from _Carthagena_ your Honour came safe away,
|
|
And you lent and sent such _great Assistance_ for reducing
|
|
CANADA.
|
|
|
|
_The BARONET's Reply_.
|
|
|
|
The just Sense you express for the Loss of our CAPITOL,
|
|
which to be sure was a fatal Mishap,
|
|
Your affectionate Concern for the _Infirmities of my Honour_,
|
|
And Joy at my new Title, of which our good K -- g is the
|
|
Donor,
|
|
Claim sincere Acknowledgments of Thankfulness,
|
|
And Gratitude, for this obliging Address.
|
|
And, (lest here and hereafter we're left in the Lurch)
|
|
To promote _true Religion_, (I mean our own Church)
|
|
I'll heartily concur with you, and lend a few Knocks
|
|
To suppress these confounding New Light Heterodox.
|
|
Then if from our Sins, we also refrain,
|
|
Perhaps we may have our CAPITOL! our dear CAPITOL!
|
|
our glorious ROYAL CAPITOL again.
|
|
|
|
_The New-York Gazette,_ June 1, 1747, supplement
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Necessity of Self-Defence_
|
|
|
|
Mr. _FRANKLIN_,
|
|
The absolute and obvious Necessity of Self-Defence, in the
|
|
present Conjuncture, occasioned me to consider attentively several
|
|
Passages in the New Testament, from whence some have endeavoured to
|
|
shew the Unlawfulness of Christians bearing Arms on any Account,
|
|
wherein I had made a small Progress before hearing Mr. _Tennent_'s
|
|
Sermon last _Thursday_ on that Occasion, which is so full and clear
|
|
on the Subject, so well supported by Strength of Argument, and
|
|
carried on with such masterly Judgment and Address, that I am of
|
|
Opinion, the Publication thereof may sufficiently answer the most
|
|
material Purposes in my View; wherefore I only now present you a few
|
|
Thoughts which lay ready, on one particular Passage, as an Amusement
|
|
to your Readers, till the above Sermon appears in Print, as I hear it
|
|
soon will.
|
|
|
|
When it is considered that some Kinds of War were held lawful
|
|
amongst the primitive Christians, as appears evidently from many of
|
|
the ancient Martyrs, who suffered Torture and Death, for their Faith
|
|
in Jesus, and Constancy to the Christian Religion, being at the Time
|
|
of such Martyrdom, actually in the Station of Soldiers, and this in
|
|
the early Ages of Christianity, while the Streams flow'd pure from
|
|
the Fountain, 'ere the Apostacy had crept in, or the holy Doctrines
|
|
of Jesus and his Apostles, were exchanged for the corrupt Traditions
|
|
of Men, being only a few Centuries from Christ, it may seem strange
|
|
that any Christians should now deny the Lawfulness of defensive War,
|
|
and attempt to infer from our Saviour's Answer and Command to the
|
|
Disciple who drew a Sword in his Defence, that the Use of Arms is in
|
|
all Cases forbid by Christ. For the better understanding this
|
|
Matter, observe what the several Evangelists say theron.
|
|
|
|
_Mark_ is very short: _One of them that stood by, drew a Sword,
|
|
and smote a Servant of the High Priest, and cut off his Ear,_ chap.
|
|
xiv. 47.
|
|
|
|
_Luke_ only says; _When they which were about him saw what
|
|
would follow, they said unto him, Lord, shall we smite with the
|
|
Sword? And one of them smote the Servant of the High Priest, and cut
|
|
off his right Ear. And Jesus answered and said, Suffer ye thus far,
|
|
and he touched his Ear, and healed him_, Chap. xx. 49-51.
|
|
|
|
This is all the Notice taken by _Mark_ and _Luke_, which
|
|
implies not so much as a Prohibition of Arms, even on this Occasion.
|
|
|
|
_John_ xviii. 10. writes; _Then Simon Peter having a Sword,
|
|
drew it, and smote the High Priest's Servant, and cut off his right
|
|
Ear. The Servant's Name was Malchus. Then said Jesus unto Peter,
|
|
Put up thy Sword into the Sheath:_ The Reason follows, not that the
|
|
Use of Arms is unlawful, but _The Cup which my Father hath given me,
|
|
shall I not drink it?_
|
|
|
|
_Matthew_ is most full on the Passage, Chap. xxvi. 51,-54. _And
|
|
behold one of them which were with Jesus, stretched out his Hand, and
|
|
drew a Sword, and struck a Servant of the High Priest's, and smote
|
|
off his Ear. Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy Sword into
|
|
his Place; for all they that take the Sword, shall perish with the
|
|
Sword. Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he
|
|
shall presently give me more than twelve Legions of Angels? But how
|
|
then shall the Scripture be fulfilled, that thus it must be?_
|
|
|
|
From whence neither will it follow, that the Use of Arms is
|
|
prohibited, since it must be granted, the Words, _All they that take
|
|
the Sword, shall perish with the Sword_, cannot be understood in an
|
|
absolute literal Sense, as to Individuals; it being evident that all
|
|
Men who have taken the Sword, have not perished by the Sword, but
|
|
many of them died in the common Course of Nature, by Diseases, or old
|
|
Age: Nor will any, 'tis presum'd, be so uncharitable to suppose, this
|
|
can be meant of the Souls of all those who have taken the Sword. The
|
|
Passage therefore by no Means determines this Point, whether to use a
|
|
Sword on any Occasion, be right or wrong; altho' it might have warned
|
|
People against attempting to propagate the Christian Religion by Fire
|
|
or Sword, and apparently tends to convince the _Jews_ of their great
|
|
Mistake, in expecting the Messiah with outward Pomp and Regal
|
|
Authority; also may be easily understood to illustrate the great
|
|
Difference between Christ's Kingdom and those of Princes. If Force
|
|
had been necessary to the former, an invincible Army of Angels would
|
|
assuredly have conquered all Opposition, the Disciples poor Help had
|
|
been quite needless: But the Defence of Christ's Kingdom not
|
|
depending on Men or Angels, could have no Support from their
|
|
Assistance, being neither liable to Change, or subject to
|
|
Dissolution. _The Word of the Lord endureth for ever; and this is
|
|
the Word which by the Gospel is preached unto you, 1 Pet. i. 24, 25.
|
|
On the other Hand, the above quoted Words of Christ may either
|
|
generally relate to the Revolutions and Periods of States, or in a
|
|
more limited Sense (as in this Case of the Disciples) only signify,
|
|
that all who persist in opposing their Swords, as private Men against
|
|
the legal Authority of the Magistracy, shall perish with the Sword.
|
|
Other Explications may be given, all _agreeing_ to demonstrate no
|
|
Inconsistency in the Passage, unless taken in an absolute literal
|
|
Sense, and without which, a total Prohibition or Discouragement of
|
|
bearing Arms will not follow. The Words, _Put up again thy Sword
|
|
into his Place_, convey an Idea very different to laying it aside for
|
|
ever as unlawful; do they not rather hint, The Sword, when in its
|
|
proper Place, is ready against a suitable Occasion. The Passage
|
|
might be enlarged upon; but, in my Apprehension, no Construction
|
|
appears more clear and easy, than the Text simply pointing out a
|
|
Contradistinction between the Kingdom of Christ, and those of
|
|
temporal Princes; carnal Weapons, tho' useful and necessary in the
|
|
latter, are not only unlawful, but improper and ineffectual for
|
|
establishing the former; and if Liberty may be taken to vary the
|
|
concise, comprehensive Stile of Scripture into a familiar Way of
|
|
Speech, the Sense of those Verses appears much the same as if Christ
|
|
had said, "_Peter_, put up thy Sword on this Occasion, it is no Time
|
|
now to use carnal Weapons; My Kingdom is not of this World, is
|
|
neither capable of being supported, or liable to be subverted by the
|
|
Sword, to the Dangers of which all earthly Kingdoms are continually
|
|
exposed: Mine stands on a more sure Foundation, in the De-fence
|
|
whereof, if Force availed, a most powerful Army of Angels would now
|
|
descend to my Assistance." But in the 54th Verse an immediate Reason
|
|
is given why our Saviour did not admit any kind of Defence to be made
|
|
in his Behalf: It would frustrate the End of his Coming, and prevent
|
|
the fulfilling of the Scriptures, which agrees with that given by St.
|
|
_John_; and the whole Passage appears plainly to have no Relation to
|
|
the Lawfulness or Unlawfulness of using the Sword in any other Case
|
|
than on the Score of Religion, but most particularly in preventing
|
|
Christ being delivered to the _Jews_. From whence follows this most
|
|
obvious Remark, That since Swords were by Christ commanded to be
|
|
procured, yet forbidden to be used on this Occasion, they were
|
|
certainly intended for some other Purpose: For the Injunction of
|
|
providing them will presently be shewn in the strongest Terms; and we
|
|
may here well use an Expression of _Cicero_ with redoubled Energy,
|
|
_Quid Gladii volunt? quos habere certi non liceret, si uti illis
|
|
nullo pacto liceret_. But in St. _Luke_, xxii. 35. we find very
|
|
plainly Christ's Opinion of the Necessity of having Swords in these
|
|
Words, _When I sent you without Purse, and Scrip, and Shoes, lacked
|
|
ye any Thing? And they said, Nothing_. This was when our Lord sent
|
|
his Disciples, Chapter x. 1. _Before his Face, into every City, and
|
|
Place, whither he himself would come._ But now, when the Lord is
|
|
about to be offered up, and his Disciples are to remain in the World,
|
|
it seems they are not to expect a miraculous Support and Defence: For
|
|
Christ says, Chapter xxii. 36. _But now, he that hath a Purse, let
|
|
him take it, and likewise his Scrip, and he that hath no Sword, let
|
|
him sell his Garment, and buy one._
|
|
|
|
_(He that hath a Purse, let him take it)_ Money, it seems, in
|
|
the tedious Journey of human Life was lawful and necessary _(and
|
|
likewise his Scrip)_ Provisions or Food were also; (_And he that hath
|
|
no Sword, let him sell his Garment, and buy one)_ But a Sword was
|
|
lawful, and still more necessary, even of greater Consequence than
|
|
our very Clothes; and the Experience of Christians from that Time
|
|
down to the present, may be appealed to, Whether Money and Provisions
|
|
have not been found very useful, and, in many Cases, the Defence of
|
|
Mens Lives and Liberties of greater Consequence than Food or Raiment;
|
|
agreeable to our Saviour's Words in another Place, _Is not the Life
|
|
more than Meat, and the Body than Raiment?_ Matth. vi. 25.
|
|
|
|
Yet how punctually do some Christians perform the first and
|
|
second Parts of this Injunction? Very diligently they provide Purse,
|
|
and Scrip, yet neglect that most necessary Provision, the Sword,
|
|
notwithstanding Food and Raiment are represented by Christ of so much
|
|
less Consequence than Life, which, under Providence, is protected and
|
|
defended by the Sword, and (on Account of its signal Use, no Doubt)
|
|
is commanded to be purchased at the Expence of our Garments: Wherefor
|
|
it is most plain some Use was to be made of Swords; but it has been
|
|
already shewn that Christianity was not to be forced upon People by
|
|
the Sword: What better Use then remains, than the Defence of our
|
|
Country, and the Protection of the Helpless and Innocent? If any can
|
|
be shewn more consistent with Christianity, or beneficial to Mankind,
|
|
it would be kind in the _Quakers_ to inform those, whose present
|
|
Measures of using Arms they condemn. Should some object, that on the
|
|
Answer, Verse 38. _Lord, Behold here are two Swords_, Christ said,
|
|
_It is enough_. Let them remember, that the same Proportion which
|
|
was adjusted for the Disciples, is enough in most well peopled
|
|
Countries.
|
|
_I am Yours,_ &c.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, December 29, 1747, supplement
|
|
|
|
_Devices and Mottoes of the Associators_
|
|
|
|
DEVICES and MOTTOES painted on some of the Silk Colours of the
|
|
Regiments of Associators_, in and near _Philadelphia_.
|
|
|
|
I. A Lion erect, a naked Scymeter in one Paw, the other holding
|
|
the _Pennsylvania_ Scutcheon. Motto, PRO PATRIA.
|
|
|
|
II. Three Arms, wearing different Linnen, ruffled, plain and
|
|
chequed; the Hands joined by grasping each the other's Wrist,
|
|
denoting the Union of all Ranks. Motto, UNITA VIRTUS VALET.
|
|
|
|
III. An Eagle, the Emblem of Victory, descending from the
|
|
Skies. Motto, A DEO VICTORIA.
|
|
|
|
IV. The Figure of LIBERTY, sitting on a Cube, holding a Spear
|
|
with the Cap of Freedom on its Point. Motto, INESTIMABILIS.
|
|
|
|
V. An armed Arm, with a naked Faulchion in its Hand. Motto,
|
|
DEUA ADJUVAT FORTES.
|
|
|
|
VI. An Elephant, being the Emblem of a Warrior always on his
|
|
Guard, as that Creature is said never to lie down, and hath his Arms
|
|
ever in Readiness. Motto, SEMPER PARATUS.
|
|
|
|
|
|
VII. A City walled round. Motto, SALUS PATRIAE, SUMMA LEX.
|
|
|
|
VIII. A Soldier, with his Piece recover'd, ready to present.
|
|
Motto, SIC PACEM QUERIMUS.
|
|
|
|
IX. A Coronet and Plume of Feathers. Motto, IN GOD WE TRUST.
|
|
|
|
X. A Man with a Sword drawn. Motto, PRO ARIS ET FOCIS. &c. &c.
|
|
|
|
Most of the above Colours, together with the Officers
|
|
Half-Pikes and Spontons, and even the Halberts, Drums, &c. have been
|
|
given by the good Ladies of this City, who raised Money by
|
|
Subscription among themselves for that Purpose.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, January 12, 1747/8
|
|
|
|
Continuation of Devices and Mottoes painted on some of the Silk
|
|
Colours of the Regiments of Associators in this City and Country
|
|
adjacent.
|
|
|
|
XI. Three of the Associators marching with their Muskets
|
|
shoulder'd, and dressed in different Clothes, intimating the
|
|
Unanimity of the different Sorts of People in the Association; Motto,
|
|
Vis Unita Fortior.
|
|
|
|
XII. A Musket and Sword crossing each other; Motto, Pro Rege &
|
|
Grege.
|
|
|
|
XIII. Representation of a Glory, in the Middle of which is
|
|
wrote _Jehovah_ _Nissi_, in English, The Lord our Banner.
|
|
|
|
XIV. A Castle, at the Gate of which a Soldier stands Centinel;
|
|
Motto, Cavendo Tutus.
|
|
|
|
XV. David, as he advanced against Goliah, and slung the Stone;
|
|
Motto, In Nomine Domini.
|
|
|
|
XVI. A Lion rampant, one Paw holding up a Scymiter, another on
|
|
a Sheaf of Wheat; Motto, Domine Protege Alimentum.
|
|
|
|
XVII. A sleeping Lion; Motto, Rouze me if you dare.
|
|
|
|
XVIII. Hope, represented by a Woman standing cloathed in blue,
|
|
holding one Hand on an Anchor; Motto, Spero per Deum vincere.
|
|
|
|
XIX. The Duke of Cumberland as a General; Motto, Pro Deo &
|
|
Georgio Rege.
|
|
|
|
XX. A Soldier on Horseback; Motto, Pro Libertate Patriae.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 16, 1748
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Advice to a Young Tradesman, Written by an Old One._
|
|
|
|
To my Friend _A_. _B_.
|
|
|
|
_As you have desired it of me, I write the following Hints,
|
|
which have been of Service to me, and may, if observed, be so to
|
|
you_.
|
|
|
|
Remember that TIME is Money. He that can earn Ten Shillings a
|
|
Day by his Labour, and goes abroad, or sits idle one half of that
|
|
Day, tho' he spends but Sixpence during his Diversion or Idleness,
|
|
ought not to reckon That the only Expence; he has really spent or
|
|
rather thrown away Five Shillings besides.
|
|
|
|
Remember that CREDIT is Money. If a Man lets his Money lie in
|
|
my Hands after it is due, he gives me the Interest, or so much as I
|
|
can make of it during that Time. This amounts to a considerable Sum
|
|
where a Man has good and large Credit, and makes good Use of it.
|
|
|
|
Remember that Money is of a prolific generating Nature. Money
|
|
can beget Money, and its Offspring can beget more, and so on. Five
|
|
Shillings turn'd, is _Six_: Turn'd again, 'tis Seven and Three Pence;
|
|
and so on 'til it becomes an Hundred Pound. The more there is of it,
|
|
the more it produces every Turning, so that the Profits rise quicker
|
|
and quicker. He that kills a breeding Sow, destroys all her
|
|
Offspring to the thousandth Generation. He that murders a Crown,
|
|
destroys all it might have produc'd, even Scores of Pounds.
|
|
|
|
Remember that Six Pounds a Year is but a Groat a Day. For this
|
|
little Sum (which may be daily wasted either in Time or Expence
|
|
unperceiv'd) a Man of Credit may on his own Security have the
|
|
constant Possession and Use of an Hundred Pounds. So much in Stock
|
|
briskly turn'd by an industrious Man, produces great Advantage.
|
|
|
|
Remember this Saying, _That the good Paymaster is Lord of
|
|
another Man's Purse_. He that is known to pay punctually and exactly
|
|
to the Time he promises, may at any Time, and on any Occasion, raise
|
|
all the Money his Friends can spare. This is sometimes of great Use:
|
|
Therefore never keep borrow'd Money an Hour beyond the Time you
|
|
promis'd, lest a Disappointment shuts up your Friends Purse forever.
|
|
|
|
The most trifling Actions that affect a Man's Credit, are to be
|
|
regarded. The Sound of your Hammer at Five in the Morning or Nine at
|
|
Night, heard by a Creditor, makes him easy Six Months longer. But if
|
|
he sees you at a Billiard Table, or hears your Voice in a Tavern,
|
|
when you should be at Work, he sends for his Money the next Day.
|
|
Finer Cloaths than he or his Wife wears, or greater Expence in any
|
|
particular than he affords himself, shocks his Pride, and he duns you
|
|
to humble you. Creditors are a kind of People, that have the
|
|
sharpest Eyes and Ears, as well as the best Memories of any in the
|
|
World.
|
|
|
|
Good-natur'd Creditors (and such one would always chuse to deal
|
|
with if one could) feel Pain when they are oblig'd to ask for Money.
|
|
Spare 'em that Pain, and they will love you. When you receive a Sum
|
|
of Money, divide it among 'em in Proportion to your Debts. Don't be
|
|
asham'd of paying a small Sum because you owe a greater. Money, more
|
|
or less, is always welcome; and your Creditor had rather be at the
|
|
Trouble of receiving Ten Pounds voluntarily brought him, tho' at ten
|
|
different Times or Payments, than be oblig'd to go ten Times to
|
|
demand it before he can receive it in a Lump. It shews, besides,
|
|
that you are mindful of what you owe; it makes you appear a careful
|
|
as well as an honest Man; and that still encreases your Credit.
|
|
|
|
Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, and of living
|
|
accordingly. 'Tis a mistake that many People who have Credit fall
|
|
into. To prevent this, keep an exact Account for some Time of both
|
|
your Expences and your Incomes. If you take the Pains at first to
|
|
mention Particulars, it will have this good Effect; you will discover
|
|
how wonderfully small trifling Expences mount up to large Sums, and
|
|
will discern what might have been, and may for the future be saved,
|
|
without occasioning any great Inconvenience.
|
|
|
|
In short, the Way to Wealth, if you desire it, is as plain as
|
|
the Way to Market. It depends chiefly on two Words, INDUSTRY and
|
|
FRUGALITY; _i. e._ Waste neither Time nor Money, but make the best
|
|
Use of both. He that gets all he can honestly, and saves all he gets
|
|
(necessary Expences excepted) will certainly become RICH; If that
|
|
Being who governs the World, to whom all should look for a Blessing
|
|
on their Honest Endeavours, doth not in his wise Providence otherwise
|
|
determine.
|
|
|
|
Philadelphia, B. Franklin and D. Hall, at the New-Printing-Office, 1748
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Proposals Relating to the Education of Youth in Pensilvania_
|
|
|
|
Advertisement to the Reader.
|
|
|
|
_It has long been regretted as a Misfortune to the Youth of
|
|
this Province, that we have no_ ACADEMY, _in which they might receive
|
|
the Accomplishments of a regular Education._
|
|
|
|
_The following Paper of_ Hints _towards forming a Plan for that
|
|
Purpose, is so far approv'd by some publick-spirited Gentlemen, to
|
|
whom it has been privately communicated, that they have directed a
|
|
Number of Copies to be made by the Press, and properly distributed,
|
|
in order to obtain the Sentiments and Advice of Men of Learning,
|
|
Understanding, and Experience in these Matters; and have determin'd
|
|
to use their Interest and best Endeavours, to have the Scheme, when
|
|
compleated, carried gradually into Execution; in which they have
|
|
Reason to believe they shall have the hearty Concurrence and
|
|
Assistance of many who are Wellwishers to their Country._
|
|
|
|
_Those who incline to favour the Design with their Advice,
|
|
either as to the Parts of Learning to be taught, the Order of Study,
|
|
the Method of Teaching, the Oeconomy of the School, or any other
|
|
Matter of Importance to the Success of the Undertaking, are desired
|
|
to communicate their Sentiments as soon as may be, by Letter directed
|
|
to_ B. Franklin, _Printer, in_ Philadelphia.
|
|
|
|
AUTHORS _quoted in this_ PAPER.
|
|
|
|
1. The famous _Milton_, whose Learning and Abilities are well
|
|
known, and who had practised some Time the Education of Youth, so
|
|
could speak from Experience.
|
|
|
|
2. The great Mr. _Locke_, who wrote a Treatise on Education,
|
|
well known, and much esteemed, being translated into most of the
|
|
modern Languages of _Europe_.
|
|
|
|
3. _Dialogues on Education_, 2 Vols. Octavo, that are much
|
|
esteem'd, having had two Editions in 3 Years. Suppos'd to be wrote
|
|
by the ingenious Mr. _Hutcheson_ (Author of _A Treatise on the
|
|
Passions_, and another on the _Ideas of Beauty and Virtue_) who has
|
|
had much Experience in Educating of Youth, being a Professor in the
|
|
College at _Glasgow_, &c.
|
|
|
|
4. The learned Mr. _Obadiah Walker_, who had been many Years a
|
|
Tutor to young Noblemen, and wrote a Treatise _on the Education of a
|
|
young Gentleman_; of which the Fifth Edition was printed 1687.
|
|
|
|
5. The much admired Mons. _Rollin_, whose whole Life was spent
|
|
in a College; and wrote 4 Vols. on Education, under the Title of,
|
|
_The Method of Teaching and Studying the Belles Lettres_; which are
|
|
translated into _English_, _Italian_, and most of the modern
|
|
Languages.
|
|
|
|
6. The learned and ingenious Dr. _George Turnbull_, Chaplain to
|
|
the present Prince of _Wales_; who has had much Experience in the
|
|
Educating of Youth, and publish'd a Book, Octavo, intituled,
|
|
_Observations on Liberal Education, in all its Branches_, 1742.
|
|
With some others.
|
|
|
|
The good Education of Youth has been esteemed by wise Men in
|
|
all Ages, as the surest Foundation of the Happiness both of private
|
|
Families and of Common-wealths. Almost all Governments have
|
|
therefore made it a principal Object of their Attention, to establish
|
|
and endow with proper Revenues, such Seminaries of Learning, as might
|
|
supply the succeeding Age with Men qualified to serve the Publick
|
|
with Honour to themselves, and to their Country. (* 1)
|
|
|
|
Many of the first Settlers of these Provinces, were Men who had
|
|
received a good Education in _Europe_, and to their Wisdom and good
|
|
Management we owe much of our present Prosperity. But their Hands
|
|
were full, and they could not do all Things. The present Race are
|
|
not thought to be generally of equal Ability: For though the
|
|
_American_ Youth are allow'd not to want Capacity; yet the best
|
|
Capacities require Cultivation, it being truly with them, as with the
|
|
best Ground, which unless well tilled and sowed with profitable Seed,
|
|
produces only ranker Weeds.
|
|
|
|
That we may obtain the Advantages arising from an Increase of
|
|
Knowledge, and prevent as much as may be the mischievous Consequences
|
|
that would attend a general Ignorance among us, the following _Hints_
|
|
are offered towards forming a Plan for the Education of the Youth of
|
|
_Pennsylvania_, viz.
|
|
|
|
It is propos'd,
|
|
THAT some Persons of Leisure and publick Spirit, apply for a
|
|
CHARTER, by which they may be incorporated, with Power to erect an
|
|
ACADEMY for the Education of Youth, to govern the same, provide
|
|
Masters, make Rules, receive Donations, purchase Lands, _&c._ and to
|
|
add to their Number, from Time to Time such other Persons as they
|
|
shall judge suitable.
|
|
|
|
That the Members of the Corporation make it their Pleasure, and
|
|
in some Degree their Business, to visit the Academy often, encourage
|
|
and (* 2) countenance the Youth, countenance and assist the Masters,
|
|
and by all Means in their Power advance the Usefulness and Reputation
|
|
of the Design; that they look on the Students as in some Sort their
|
|
Children, treat them with Familiarity and Affection, and when they
|
|
have behav'd well, and gone through their Studies, and are to enter
|
|
the World, zealously unite, and make all the Interest that can be
|
|
made to establish them (* 3), whether in Business, Offices,
|
|
Marriages, or any other Thing for their Advantage, preferably to all
|
|
other Persons whatsoever even of equal Merit.
|
|
|
|
And if Men may, and frequently do, catch such a Taste for
|
|
cultivating Flowers,ng, Grafting, Inoculating, and the like, as to
|
|
despise all other Amusements for their Sake, why may not we expect
|
|
they should acquire a Relish for that _more useful_ Culture of young
|
|
Minds. _Thompson_ says,
|
|
|
|
_'Tis Joy to see the human Blossoms blow,
|
|
When infant Reason grows apace, and calls
|
|
For the kind Hand of an assiduous Care;
|
|
Delightful Task! to rear the tender Thought,
|
|
To teach the young Idea how to shoot,
|
|
To pour the fresh Instruction o'er the Mind,
|
|
To breathe th' enliv'ning Spirit, and to fix
|
|
The generous Purpose in the glowing Breast._
|
|
|
|
That a House be provided for the ACADEMY, if not in the Town,
|
|
not many Miles from it; the Situation high and dry, and if it may be,
|
|
not far from a River, having a Garden, Orchard, Meadow, and a Field
|
|
or two.
|
|
|
|
That the House be furnished with a Library (if in the Country,
|
|
if in the Town, the Town (* 4) Libraries may serve) with Maps of all
|
|
Countries, Globes, some mathematical Instruments, and Apparatus for
|
|
Experiments in Natural Philosophy, and for Mechanics; Prints, of all
|
|
Kinds, Prospects, Buildings, Machines, _&c_. (* 5)
|
|
|
|
That the RECTOR be a Man of good Understanding, good Morals,
|
|
diligent and patient, learn'd in the Languages and Sciences, and a
|
|
correct pure Speaker and Writer of the _English_ Tongue; to have such
|
|
Tutors under him as shall be necessary.
|
|
|
|
That the boarding Scholars diet (* 6) together, plainly,
|
|
temperately, and frugally.
|
|
|
|
That to keep them in Health, and to strengthen and render
|
|
active their Bodies, they be frequently (* 7) exercis'd in Running,
|
|
Leaping, Wrestling, and Swimming (* 8) _&c_.
|
|
|
|
|
|
That they have peculiar Habits to distinguish them from other
|
|
Youth, if the Academy be in or near the Town; for this, among other
|
|
Reasons, that their Behaviour may be the better observed.
|
|
|
|
As to their STUDIES, it would be well if they could be taught
|
|
_every Thing_ that is useful, and _every Thing_ that is ornamental:
|
|
But Art is long, and their Time is short. It is therefore propos'd
|
|
that they learn those Things that are likely to be _most useful_ and
|
|
_most ornamental_. Regard being had to the several Professions for
|
|
which they are intended.
|
|
|
|
All should be taught to write a _fair Hand_, and swift, as that
|
|
is useful to All. And with it may be learnt something of (* 9)
|
|
_Drawing_, by Imitation of Prints, and some of the first Principles
|
|
of Perspective.
|
|
|
|
|
|
(* 10) _Arithmetick_, _Accounts_, and some of the first
|
|
Principles of _Geometry_ and _Astronomy_.
|
|
|
|
The (* 11) _English_ Language might be taught by Grammar; in
|
|
which some of our best Writers, as _Tillotson_, _Addison_, _Pope_,
|
|
_Algernoon Sidney_, _Cato_'s Letters, _&c_. should be Classicks: The
|
|
_Stiles_ principally to be cultivated, being the _clear_ and the
|
|
_concise_. Reading should also be taught, and pronouncing, properly,
|
|
distinctly, emphatically; not with an even Tone, which _under-does_,
|
|
nor a theatrical, which _over-does_ Nature.
|
|
|
|
To form their Stile, they should be put on Writing (* 12)
|
|
Letters to each other, making Abstracts of what they read; or writing
|
|
the same Things in their own Words; telling or writing Stories lately
|
|
read, in their own Expressions. All to be revis'd and corrected by
|
|
the Tutor, who should give his Reasons, explain the Force and Import
|
|
of Words, _&c_.
|
|
|
|
To form their (* 13) Pronunciation, they may be put on making
|
|
Declamations, repeating Speeches, delivering Orations, _&c_. The
|
|
Tutor assisting at the Rehearsals, teaching, advising, correcting
|
|
their Accent, _&c_.
|
|
|
|
But if (* 14) HISTORY be made a constant Part of their Reading,
|
|
such as the Translations of the _Greek_ and _Roman_ Historians, and
|
|
the modern Histories of antient _Greece_ and _Rome_, &c. may not
|
|
almost all Kinds of useful Knowledge be that Way introduc'd to
|
|
Advantage, and with Pleasure to the Student? As
|
|
|
|
GEOGRAPHY, by reading with Maps, and being required to point
|
|
out the Places _where_ the greatest Actions were done, to give their
|
|
old and new Names, with the Bounds, Situation, Extent of the
|
|
Countries concern'd, _&c_.
|
|
|
|
CHRONOLOGY, by the Help of _Helvicus_ or some other Writer of
|
|
the Kind, who will enable them to tell _when_ those Events happened;
|
|
what Princes were Cotemporaries, what States or famous Men flourish'd
|
|
about that Time, _&c_. The several principal Epochas to be first
|
|
well fix'd in their Memories.
|
|
|
|
ANTIENT CUSTOMS, religious and civil, being frequently
|
|
mentioned in History, will give Occasion for explaining them; in
|
|
which the (* 15) Prints of Medals, Basso Relievo's, and antient
|
|
Monuments will greatly assist.
|
|
|
|
MORALITY, (* 16) by descanting and making continual
|
|
Observations on the Causes of the Rise or Fall of any Man's
|
|
Character, Fortune, Power, _&c_. mention'd in History; the Advantages
|
|
of Temperance, Order, Frugality, Industry, Perseverance, _&c_. _&c_.
|
|
(* 17) Indeed the general natural Tendency of Reading good History,
|
|
must be, to fix in the Minds of Youth deep Impressions of the Beauty
|
|
and Usefulness of Virtue of all Kinds, Publick Spirit, Fortitude,
|
|
_&c_.
|
|
|
|
_History_ will show the wonderful Effects of ORATORY, in
|
|
governing, turning and leading great Bodies of Mankind, Armies,
|
|
Cities, Nations. When the Minds of Youth are struck with Admiration
|
|
at this, (* 18) then is the Time to give them the Principles of that
|
|
Art, which they will study with Taste and Application. Then they may
|
|
be made acquainted with the best Models among the Antients, their
|
|
Beauties being particularly pointed out to them. Modern Political
|
|
Oratory being chiefly performed by the Pen and Press, its Advantages
|
|
over the Antient in some Respects are to be shown; as that its
|
|
Effects are more extensive, more lasting, _&c_.
|
|
|
|
_History_ will also afford frequent Opportunities of showing
|
|
the Necessity of a _Publick Religion_, from its Usefulness to the
|
|
Publick; the Advantage of a Religious Character among private
|
|
Persons; the Mischiefs of Superstition, _&c_. and the Excellency of
|
|
the CHRISTIAN RELIGION above all others antient or modern (* 19).
|
|
|
|
_History_ will also give Occasion to expatiate on the Advantage
|
|
of Civil Orders and Constitutions, how Men and their Properties are
|
|
protected by joining in Societies and establishing Government; their
|
|
Industry encouraged and rewarded, Arts invented, and Life made more
|
|
comfortable: The Advantages of _Liberty_, Mischiefs of
|
|
_Licentiousness_, Benefits arising from good Laws and a due Execution
|
|
of Justice, _&c_. Thus may the first Principles of sound (* 20)
|
|
_Politicks_ be fix'd in the Minds of Youth.
|
|
|
|
On _Historical_ Occasions, Questions of Right and Wrong,
|
|
Justice and Injustice, will naturally arise, and may be put to Youth,
|
|
which they may debate in Conversation and in Writing (* 21). When
|
|
they ardently desire Victory, for the Sake of the Praise attending
|
|
it, they will begin to feel the Want, and be sensible of the Use of
|
|
_Logic_, or the Art of Reasoning to _discover_ Truth, and of Arguing
|
|
to _defend_ it, and _convince_ Adversaries. This would be the Time
|
|
to acquaint them with the Principles of that Art. _Grotius_,
|
|
_Puffendorff_, and some other Writers of the same Kind, may be used
|
|
on these Occasions to decide their Disputes. (* 22) Publick Disputes
|
|
warm the Imagination, whet the Industry, and strengthen the natural
|
|
Abilities.
|
|
|
|
When Youth are told, that the Great Men whose Lives and Actions
|
|
they read in History, spoke two of the best Languages that ever were,
|
|
the most expressive, copious, beautiful; and that the finest
|
|
Writings, the most correct Compositions, the most perfect Productions
|
|
of human Wit and Wisdom, are in those Languages, which have endured
|
|
Ages, and will endure while there are Men; that no Translation can do
|
|
them Justice, or give the Pleasure found in Reading the Originals;
|
|
that those Languages contain all Science; that one of them is become
|
|
almost universal, being the Language of Learned Men in all Countries;
|
|
that to understand them is a distinguishing Ornament, _&c_. they may
|
|
be thereby made desirous of learning those Languages, and their
|
|
Industry sharpen'd in the Acquisition of them. All intended for
|
|
Divinity should be taught the _Latin_ and _Greek_; for Physick, the
|
|
_Latin_, _Greek_ and _French_; for Law, the _Latin_ and _French_;
|
|
Merchants, the _French_, _German_, and _Spanish_: And though all
|
|
should not be compell'd to learn _Latin_, _Greek_, or the modern
|
|
foreign Languages; yet none that have an ardent Desire to learn them
|
|
should be refused; their _English_, Arithmetick, and other Studies
|
|
absolutely necessary, being at the same Time not neglected.
|
|
|
|
If the new _Universal History_ were also read, it would give a
|
|
_connected_ Idea of human Affairs, so far as it goes, which should be
|
|
follow'd by the best modern Histories, particularly of our Mother
|
|
Country; then of these Colonies; which should be accompanied with
|
|
Observations on their Rise, Encrease, Use to _Great-Britain_,
|
|
Encouragements, Discouragements, _&c_. the Means to make them
|
|
flourish, secure their Liberties, _&c_.
|
|
|
|
With the History of Men, Times and Nations, should be read at
|
|
proper Hours or Days, some of the best _Histories of Nature_ (* 23),
|
|
which would not only be delightful to Youth, and furnish them with
|
|
Matter for their Letters, _&c_. as well as other History; but
|
|
afterwards of great Use to them, whether they are Merchants,
|
|
Handicrafts, or Divines; enabling the first the better to understand
|
|
many Commodities, Drugs, _&c_. the second to improve his Trade or
|
|
Handicraft by new Mixtures, Materials, _&c_. and the last to adorn
|
|
his Discourses by beautiful Comparisons, and strengthen them by new
|
|
Proofs of Divine Providence. The Conversation of all will be
|
|
improved by it, as Occasions frequently occur of making Natural
|
|
Observations, which are instructive, agreeable, and entertaining in
|
|
almost all Companies. _Natural History_ will also afford
|
|
Opportunities of introducing many Observations, relating to the
|
|
Preservation of Health, which may be afterwards of great Use.
|
|
_Arbuthnot_ on Air and _Aliment_, _Sanctorius_ on Perspiration,
|
|
_Lemery_ on Foods, and some others, may now be read, and a very
|
|
little Explanation will make them sufficiently intelligible to Youth.
|
|
|
|
While they are reading Natural History, might not a little
|
|
_Gardening_, _Planting_, _Grafting_, _Inoculating_, &c. be taught and
|
|
practised; and now and then Excursions made to the neighbouring
|
|
Plantations of the best Farmers, their Methods observ'd and reason'd
|
|
upon for the Information of Youth. The Improvement of Agriculture
|
|
being useful to all (* 24), and Skill in it no Disparagement to any.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The History of _Commerce_, of the Invention of Arts, Rise of
|
|
Manufactures, Progress of Trade, Change of its Seats, with the
|
|
Reasons, Causes, _&c_. may also be made entertaining to Youth, and
|
|
will be useful to all. And this, with the Accounts in other History
|
|
of the prodigious Force and Effect of Engines and Machines used in
|
|
War, will naturally introduce a Desire to be instructed in (* 25)
|
|
_Mechanicks_, and to be inform'd of the Principles of that Art by
|
|
which weak Men perform such Wonders, Labour is sav'd, Manufactures
|
|
expedited, _&c. &c_. This will be the Time to show them Prints of
|
|
antient and modern Machines, to explain them, to let them be (* 26)
|
|
copied, and to give Lectures in Mechanical Philosophy.
|
|
|
|
With the whole should be constantly inculcated and cultivated,
|
|
that _Benignity of Mind_ (* 27), which shows itself in _searching
|
|
for_ and _seizing_ every Opportunity _to serve_ and _to oblige_; and
|
|
is the Foundation of what is called GOOD BREEDING; highly useful to
|
|
the Possessor, and most agreeable to all (* 28).
|
|
|
|
The Idea of what is _true Merit_, should also be often
|
|
presented to Youth, explain'd and impress'd on their Minds, as
|
|
consisting in an _Inclination_ join'd with an _Ability_ to serve
|
|
Mankind, one's Country, Friends and Family; which _Ability_ is (with
|
|
the Blessing of God) to be acquir'd or greatly encreas'd by _true
|
|
Learning_; and should indeed be the great _Aim_ and (* 29) _End_ of
|
|
all Learning.
|
|
|
|
(* 1) As some Things here propos'd may be found to differ a
|
|
little from the Forms of Education in common Use, the following
|
|
Quotations are to shew the Opinions of several learned Men, who have
|
|
carefully considered and wrote expresly on the Subject; such as
|
|
_Milton_, _Locke_, _Rollin_, _Turnbull_, and others. They generally
|
|
complain, that the _old Method_ is in many Respects wrong; but long
|
|
settled Forms are not easily changed. For us, who are now to make a
|
|
Beginning, 'tis, at least, as easy to set out right as wrong; and
|
|
therefore their Sentiments are on this Occasion well worth our
|
|
Consideration.
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Rollin_ says (_Belles Lett. p._ 249. speaking of the
|
|
Manner of Educating Youth) "Though it be generally a very wise and
|
|
judicious Rule to avoid all Singularity, and to follow the received
|
|
Customs, yet I question whether, in the Point we now treat of, this
|
|
Principle does not admit of some Exception, and whether we ought not
|
|
to apprehend the Dangers and Inconveniencies of blindly following the
|
|
Footsteps of those who have gone before us, so as to consult _Custom_
|
|
more than _Reason_, and the governing our Actions rather by what
|
|
others _do_, than by what they _should do_; from whence it often
|
|
happens, that an Error once established is handed down from Age to
|
|
Age, and becomes almost a certain Law, from a Notion, that we ought
|
|
to act like the rest of Mankind, and follow the Example of the
|
|
greatest Number. But human Nature is not so happy as to have the
|
|
greatest Number always make the best Choice, and we too frequently
|
|
observe the contrary."
|
|
|
|
(* 2) _Rollin_, Vol. 2. p. 371. mentions a _French_ Gentleman,
|
|
Mons. _Hersan_, who, "at his own Expence, built a School for the Use
|
|
of poor Children, one of the finest in the Kingdom; and left a
|
|
Stipend for the Master. That he himself taught them very often, and
|
|
generally had some of them at his Table. He clothed several of them;
|
|
and distributed Rewards among them from Time to Time, in order to
|
|
encourage them to study."
|
|
|
|
(* 3) Something seems wanting in _America_ to incite and
|
|
stimulate Youth to Study. In _Europe_ the Encouragements to Learning
|
|
are of themselves much greater than can be given here. Whoever
|
|
distinguishes himself there, in either of the three learned
|
|
Professions, gains Fame, and often Wealth and Power: A poor Man's Son
|
|
has a Chance, if he studies hard, to rise, either in the Law or the
|
|
Church, to gainful Offices or Benefices; to an extraordinary Pitch of
|
|
Grandeur; to have a Voice in Parliament, a Seat among the Peers; as a
|
|
Statesman or first Minister to govern Nations, and even to mix his
|
|
Blood with Princes.
|
|
|
|
(* 4) Besides the _English_ Library begun and carried on by
|
|
Subscription in _Philadelphia_, we may expect the Benefit of another
|
|
much more valuable in the Learned Languages, which has been many
|
|
Years collecting with the greatest Care, by a Gentleman distinguish'd
|
|
for his universal Knowledge, no less than for his Judgment in Books.
|
|
It contains many hundred Volumes of the best Authors in the best
|
|
Editions, among which are the _Polyglot_ Bible, and _Castel_'s
|
|
Lexicon on it, in 8 large Vols. _Aldus_'s Septuagint, Apocrypha and
|
|
New Testament, in _Greek_, and some other Editions of the same; most
|
|
of the Fathers; almost all the _Greek_ Authors from _Homer_ himself,
|
|
in divers Editions (and one of them in that of _Rome_, with
|
|
_Eustathius_'s Commentaries, in 4 Vols.) to near the End of the 4th
|
|
Century, with divers later, as _Photius_, _Suidas_, divers of the
|
|
_Byzantine_ Historians; all the old Mathematicians, as _Archimedes_,
|
|
_Apollonius_, _Euclid_, _Ptolomy_'s Geography and Almagest, with
|
|
_Theon_'s Commentaries and _Diophantus_, in the whole above 100 Vols.
|
|
in _Greek_ Folio's. All the old _Roman_ Classics without Exception,
|
|
and some of them in several Editions (as all _Tully_'s Works in four
|
|
Editions). All _Graevius_, _Gronovius_, _Salengre_'s and _Poleni_'s
|
|
Collections of _Roman_ and _Greek_ Antiquities, containing above Five
|
|
Hundred distinct Discourses in 33 Tomes, with some Hundreds of late
|
|
Authors in _Latin_, as _Vossius_, _Lipsius_, _Grotius_, &c. A good
|
|
Collection of Mathematical Pieces, as _Newton_ in all the three
|
|
Editions, _Wallis_, _Huygens_, _Tacquet_, _Dechales_, &c. in near 100
|
|
Vols. in all Sizes, with some _Orientals_, _French_ and _Italian_
|
|
Authors, and many more _English_, &c. A handsome Building above 60
|
|
Feet in front, is now erected in this City, at the private Expence of
|
|
that Gentleman, for the Reception of this Library, where it is soon
|
|
to be deposited, and remain for the publick Use, with a valuable
|
|
yearly Income duly to enlarge it; and I have his Permission to
|
|
mention it as an Encouragement to the propos'd Academy; to which this
|
|
noble Benefaction will doubtless be of the greatest Advantage, as not
|
|
only the Students, but even the Masters themselves, may very much
|
|
improve by it.
|
|
|
|
(* 5) See in _Turnbull_, p. 415. the Description of the
|
|
Furniture of the School called the _Instituto_ at _Bologna_, procur'd
|
|
by the Care and Direction of Count _Marsigli_, and originally at his
|
|
private Expence.
|
|
|
|
(* 6) Perhaps it would be best if none of the Scholars were to
|
|
diet abroad. _Milton_ is of that Opinion (_Tractate of Education_)
|
|
for that much Time would else be lost, and many ill Habits got.
|
|
|
|
(* 7) _Milton_ proposes, that an Hour and Half before Dinner
|
|
should be allow'd for Exercise, and recommends among other Exercises,
|
|
the handling of Arms, but perhaps this may not be thought necessary
|
|
here. _Turnbull_, p. 318. says, "Corporal Exercise invigorates the
|
|
Soul as well as the Body; let one be kept closely to Reading, without
|
|
allowing him any Respite from Thinking, or any Exercise to his Body,
|
|
and were it possible to preserve long, by such a Method, his Liking
|
|
to Study and Knowledge, yet we should soon find such an one become no
|
|
less soft in his Mind than in his outward Man. Both Mind and Body
|
|
would thus become gradually too relaxed, too much unbraced for the
|
|
Fatigues and Duties of active Life. Such is the Union between Soul
|
|
and Body, that the same Exercises which are conducive, when rightly
|
|
managed, to consolidate or strengthen the former, are likewise
|
|
equally necessary and fit to produce Courage, Firmness, and manly
|
|
Vigour, in the latter. For this, and other Reasons, certain hardy
|
|
Exercises were reckoned by the Antients an essential Part in the
|
|
Formation of a liberal Character; and ought to have their Place in
|
|
Schools where Youth are taught the Languages and Sciences."
|
|
|
|
(* 8) 'Tis suppos'd that every Parent would be glad to have
|
|
their Children skill'd in _Swimming_, if it might be learnt in a
|
|
Place chosen for its Safety, and under the Eye of a careful Person.
|
|
Mr. _Locke_ says, p. 9. in his _Treatise of Education_; "'Tis that
|
|
saves many a Man's Life; and the _Romans_ thought it so necessary,
|
|
that they rank'd it with Letters; and it was the common Phrase to
|
|
mark one ill educated, and good for nothing, that he had neither
|
|
learnt to read nor to swim; _Nec Literas didicit nec Natare_. But
|
|
besides the gaining a Skill which may serve him at Need, the
|
|
Advantages to Health by often Bathing in cold Water during the Heat
|
|
of the Summer, are so many, that I think nothing need be said to
|
|
encourage it."
|
|
|
|
'Tis some Advantage besides, to be free from the slavish
|
|
Terrors many of those feel who cannot swim, when they are oblig'd to
|
|
be on the Water even in crossing a Ferry.
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Hutchinson_, in his _Dialogues concerning Education_, 2
|
|
Vols. Octavo, lately publish'd, says, Vol. 2. p. 297. "I would have
|
|
the Youth accustomed to such Exercises as will harden their
|
|
Constitution, as Riding, Running, Swimming, Shooting, and the like."
|
|
|
|
_Charlemagne_, Founder of the _German_ Empire, brought up his
|
|
Sons hardily, and even his Daughters were inur'd to Industry.
|
|
_Henry_ the Great of _France_, saith Mons. _Rhodez_, "was not
|
|
permitted by his Grand-father to be brought up with Delicacy, who
|
|
well knew that _seldom lodgeth other than a mean and feeble Spirit in
|
|
an effeminate and tender Body._ He commanded that the Boy should be
|
|
accustomed to run, to leap, to climb the Rocks and Mountains; that by
|
|
such Means he might be inured to Labour, _&c_. His ordinary Food
|
|
also was of coarse Bread, Beef, Cheese and Garlick; his Cloathing
|
|
plain and coarse, and often he went barefoot and bareheaded."
|
|
_Walker_ of Education, p. 17, 18.
|
|
|
|
(* 9) Drawing_ is a kind of Universal Language, understood by
|
|
all Nations. A Man may often express his Ideas, even to his own
|
|
Countrymen, more clearly with a Lead Pencil, or Bit of Chalk, than
|
|
with his Tongue. And many can understand a Figure, that do not
|
|
comprehend a Description in Words, tho' ever so properly chosen. All
|
|
Boys have an early Inclination to this Improvement, and begin to make
|
|
Figures of Animals, Ships, Machines, _&c._ as soon as they can use a
|
|
Pen: But for want of a little Instruction at that Time, generally are
|
|
discouraged, and quit the Pursuit.
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Locke_ says, p. 234. "When your Son can write well and
|
|
quick, I think it may be convenient not only to continue the Exercise
|
|
of his Hand in Writing, but also to improve the Use of it further in
|
|
_Drawing_; a Thing very useful to a Gentleman on several Occasions;
|
|
but especially if he travel; as that which helps a Man often to
|
|
express in a _few Lines_ well put together, what a _whole Sheet of
|
|
Paper in Writing_ would not be able to represent and make
|
|
intelligible. How many Buildings may a Man see, how many _Machines_
|
|
and Habits meet with, the Ideas whereof would be easily retain'd, and
|
|
communicated by a little Skill in Drawing; which being committed to
|
|
Words, are in Danger to be lost, or at best but ill retained in the
|
|
most exact Descriptions? I do not mean that I would have him a
|
|
perfect Painter; to be that to any tolerable Degree, will require
|
|
more Time than he can spare from his other Improvements of greater
|
|
Moment. But so much Insight into Perspective and Skill in Drawing,
|
|
as will enable him to represent tolerably on Paper any Thing he sees,
|
|
except Faces, may, I think, be got in a little Time."
|
|
|
|
_Drawing_ is no less useful to a _Mechanic_ than to a
|
|
Gentleman. Several Handicrafts seem to require it; as the
|
|
Carpenter's, Shipwright's, Engraver's, Painter's, Carver's,
|
|
Cabinet-maker's, Gardiner's, and other Businesses. By a little Skill
|
|
of this kind, the Workman may perfect his own Idea of the Thing to be
|
|
done, before he begins to work; and show a Draft for the
|
|
Encouragement and Satisfaction of his Employer.
|
|
|
|
(* 10) Mr. _Locke_ is of Opinion, p. 269. that a Child should be
|
|
early enter'd in Arithmetick, Geography, Chronology, History and
|
|
Geometry. "Merchants Accounts, he says, if it is not necessary to
|
|
help a Gentleman to _get_ an Estate, yet there is nothing of more Use
|
|
and Efficacy to make him _preserve_ the Estate he has. 'Tis seldom
|
|
observ'd that he who keeps an Account of his Income and Expences, and
|
|
thereby has constantly under View the Course of his Domestic Affairs,
|
|
lets them run to Ruin: And I doubt not but many a Man gets
|
|
behind-hand before he is aware, or runs farther on when he is once
|
|
in, for want of this Care, or the Skill to do it. I would therefore
|
|
advise all Gentlemen to learn perfectly _Merchants Accounts_; and not
|
|
to think 'tis a Skill that belongs not to them, because it has
|
|
received its Name, and has been chiefly practis'd by Men of
|
|
Traffick." p. 316.
|
|
|
|
Not only the _Skill_, but the _Habit_ of keeping Accounts,
|
|
should be acquir'd by all, as being necessary to all.
|
|
|
|
(* 11) Mr. _Locke_, speaking of _Grammar_, p. 252. says, "That
|
|
to those the greatest Part of whose Business in this World is to be
|
|
done with their Tongues, and with their Pens, it is convenient, if
|
|
not necessary, that they should speak properly and correctly, whereby
|
|
they may let their Thoughts into other Mens Minds the more easily,
|
|
and with the greater Impression. Upon this Account it is, that any
|
|
sort of Speaking, so as will make him be understood, is not thought
|
|
enough for a Gentleman. He ought to study _Grammar_, among the other
|
|
Helps of Speaking well, but it _must be_ THE GRAMMAR OF HIS OWN
|
|
TONGUE, of the Language he uses, that he may understand his own
|
|
Country Speech nicely, and speak it properly, without shocking the
|
|
Ears of those it is addressed to with Solecisms and offensive
|
|
Irregularities. And to this Purpose _Grammar is necessary_; but it
|
|
is the Grammar _only_ of _their own proper Tongues_, and to those who
|
|
would take Pains in cultivating their Language, and perfecting their
|
|
Stiles. Whether all Gentlemen should not do this, I leave to be
|
|
considered, since the Want of Propriety and Grammatical Exactness is
|
|
thought very misbecoming one of that Rank, and usually draws on one
|
|
guilty of such Faults, the Imputation of having had a lower Breeding
|
|
and worse Company than suits with his Quality. If this be so (as I
|
|
suppose it is) it will be Matter of Wonder, why young Gentlemen are
|
|
forc'd to learn the Grammars of foreign and dead Languages, and are
|
|
never once told of the Grammar of their own Tongues. They do not so
|
|
much as know there is any such Thing, much less is it made their
|
|
Business to be instructed in it. Nor is their own Language ever
|
|
propos'd to them as worthy their Care and Cultivating, tho' they have
|
|
_daily Use_ of it, and are not seldom, in the future Course of their
|
|
Lives, judg'd of by their handsome or awkward Way of expressing
|
|
themselves in it. Whereas the Languages whose Grammars they have
|
|
been so much employed in, are such as probably they shall scarce ever
|
|
speak or write; or if upon Occasion this should happen, they should
|
|
be excused for the Mistakes and Faults they make in it. Would not a
|
|
_Chinese_, who took Notice of this Way of Breeding, be apt to
|
|
imagine, that all our young Gentlemen were designed to be Teachers
|
|
and Professors of the dead Languages of foreign Countries, and not to
|
|
be Men of Business in their own." Page 255. the same Author adds,
|
|
"That if Grammar ought to be taught at any Time, it must be to one
|
|
that can speak the Language already; how else can he be taught the
|
|
Grammar of it? This at least is evident from the Practice of the
|
|
wise and learned Nations among the Antients. They made it a _Part of
|
|
Education_ to cultivate _their own_, not foreign Tongues. The
|
|
_Greeks_ counted all other Nations barbarous, and had a Contempt for
|
|
their Languages. And though the _Greek_ Learning grew in Credit
|
|
amongst the _Romans_ towards the End of their Commonwealth, yet it
|
|
was the _Roman_ Tongue that was made the Study of their Youth: _Their
|
|
own_ Language they were to make Use of, and therefore it was _their
|
|
own_ Language they were _instructed_ and _exercised_ in." And p. 281.
|
|
"There can scarce be a greater Defect (says he) in a Gentleman, than
|
|
not to express himself well either in Writing or Speaking. But yet I
|
|
think I may ask the Reader, whether he doth not know a great many,
|
|
who live upon their Estates, and so, with the Name, should have the
|
|
Qualities of Gentlemen, who cannot so much as tell a Story as they
|
|
should, much less speak clearly and persuasively in any Business.
|
|
This I think not to be so much their Fault as the _Fault of their
|
|
Education_." Thus far _Locke_.
|
|
|
|
Mons. _Rollin_, reckons the Neglect of Teaching their own
|
|
Tongue a great Fault in the _French_ Universities. He spends great
|
|
Part of his first Vol. of _Belles Lettres_, on that Subject; and lays
|
|
down some excellent Rules or Methods of Teaching _French_ to
|
|
_Frenchmen_ grammatically, and making them Masters therein, which are
|
|
very applicable to our Language, but too long to be inserted here.
|
|
He practis'd them on the Youth under his Care with great Success.
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Hutchinson_, Dial. p. 297. says, "To perfect them in the
|
|
Knowledge of their Mother Tongue, they should learn it in the
|
|
Grammatical Way, that they may not only speak it purely, but be able
|
|
both to correct their own Idiom, and afterwards enrich the Language
|
|
on the same Foundation."
|
|
|
|
Dr. _Turnbull_, in his Observations on a liberal Education,
|
|
says, p. 262. "The _Greeks_, perhaps, made more early Advances in
|
|
the most useful Sciences than any Youth have done since, chiefly on
|
|
this Account, that they studied no other Language but their own.
|
|
This no Doubt saved them very much Time; but they _applied themselves
|
|
carefully_ to the Study of _their own_ Language, and were _early_
|
|
able to speak and write it in _the greatest Perfection_. The _Roman_
|
|
Youth, though they learned the _Greek_, did not neglect their own
|
|
Tongue, but studied it more carefully than we now do _Greek_ and
|
|
_Latin_, without giving ourselves any Trouble about our own Tongue."
|
|
|
|
Mons. _Simon_, in an elegant Discourse of his among the Memoirs
|
|
of the Academy of _Belles Lettres_ at _Paris_, speaking of the Stress
|
|
the _Romans_ laid on Purity of Language and graceful Pronunciation,
|
|
adds, "May I here make a Reflection on the Education we commonly give
|
|
our Children? It is very remote from the Precepts I have mentioned.
|
|
Hath the Child arrived to six or seven Years of Age, he mixes with a
|
|
Herd of ill-bred Boys at School, where under the Pretext of Teaching
|
|
him _Latin_, no Regard is had to his _Mother Tongue_. And what
|
|
happens? What we see every Day. A young Gentleman of eighteen, who
|
|
has had this Education, CANNOT READ. For to articulate the Words,
|
|
and join them together, I do not call _Reading_, unless one can
|
|
pronounce well, observe all the proper Stops, vary the Voice, express
|
|
the Sentiments, and read with a delicate Intelligence. Nor can he
|
|
speak a Jot better. A Proof of this is, that he cannot write ten
|
|
Lines without committing gross Faults; and because he did not learn
|
|
his own Language well in his early Years, he will never know it well.
|
|
I except a few, who being afterwards engaged by their Profession, or
|
|
their natural Taste, cultivate their Minds by Study. And yet even
|
|
they, if they attempt to write, will find by the _Labour_ Composition
|
|
costs them, what a _Loss it is_, not to have learned their Language
|
|
in the proper Season. Education among the _Romans_ was upon a quite
|
|
different Footing. Masters of Rhetoric taught them early the
|
|
Principles, the Difficulties, the Beauties, the Subtleties, the
|
|
Depths, the Riches of their own Language. When they went from these
|
|
Schools, they were perfect Masters of it, they were never at a Loss
|
|
for proper Expressions; and I am much deceived if it was not owing to
|
|
this, that they produced such excellent Works with so _marvellous
|
|
Facility_."
|
|
|
|
_Pliny_, in his Letter to a Lady on chusing a Tutor for her
|
|
Son, speaks of it as the most material Thing in his Education, that
|
|
he should have a good _Latin_ Master of Rhetoric, and recommends
|
|
_Julius Genitor_ for his _eloquent, open and plain Faculty of
|
|
Speaking_. He does not advise her to a _Greek_ Master of Rhetoric,
|
|
tho' the _Greeks_ were famous for that Science; but to a _Latin_
|
|
Master, because _Latin_ was the Boy's Mother Tongue. In the above
|
|
Quotation from Mons. _Simon_, we see what was the Office and Duty of
|
|
the Master of Rhetoric.
|
|
|
|
(* 12) This Mr. _Locke_ recommends, _Educ. p._ 284. and says,
|
|
"The Writing of Letters has so much to do in all the Occurrences of
|
|
human Life, that no Gentleman can avoid shewing himself in this Kind
|
|
of Writing. Occasions will daily force him to make this Use of his
|
|
Pen, which, besides the Consequences that, in his Affairs, the well
|
|
or ill managing it often draws after it, always lays him open to a
|
|
severer Examination of his Breeding, Sense and Abilities, than oral
|
|
Discourses, whose transient Faults dying for the most Part with the
|
|
Sound that gives them Life, and so not subject to a strict Review,
|
|
more easily escape Observation and Censure." He adds,
|
|
|
|
"Had the Methods of Education been directed to their right End,
|
|
one would have thought this so necessary a Part could not have been
|
|
neglected, whilst Themes and Verses in _Latin_, of no Use at all,
|
|
were so constantly every where pressed, to the Racking of Childrens
|
|
Inventions beyond their Strength, and hindring their chearful
|
|
Progress by unnatural Difficulties. But Custom has so ordained it,
|
|
and who dares disobey? And would it not be very unreasonable to
|
|
require of a learned Country Schoolmaster (who has all the Tropes and
|
|
Figures in _Farnaby_'s Rhetorick at his Finger's Ends) to teach his
|
|
Scholar to express himself handsomely in _English_, when it appears
|
|
to be so little his Business or Thought, that the Boy's Mother
|
|
(despised, 'tis like, as illiterate for not having read a System of
|
|
Logic or Rhetoric) outdoes him in it?
|
|
|
|
"To speak and write correctly, gives a Grace, and gains a
|
|
favourable Attention to what one has to say: And since 'tis _English_
|
|
that an _Englishman_ will have constant Use of, that is the Language
|
|
he should chiefly cultivate, and wherein most Care should be taken to
|
|
polish and perfect his Stile. To speak or write better _Latin_ than
|
|
_English_, may make a Man be talk'd of, but he will find it more to
|
|
his Purpose to express himself well in his own Tongue, that he uses
|
|
every Moment, than to have the vain Commendation of others for a very
|
|
insignificant Quality. This I find universally neglected, nor no
|
|
Care taken any where to improve young Men in their own Language, that
|
|
they may thoroughly understand and be Masters of it. If any one
|
|
among us have a Facility or Purity more than ordinary in his Mother
|
|
Tongue, it is owing to Chance, or his Genius, or any Thing, rather
|
|
than to his Education, or any Care of his Teacher. To mind what
|
|
_English_ his Pupil speaks or writes, is below the Dignity of one
|
|
bred up among _Greek_ and _Latin_, tho' he have but little of them
|
|
himself. These are the Learned Languages, fit only for Learned Men
|
|
to meddle with and teach: _English_ is the Language of the illiterate
|
|
Vulgar. Though the Great Men among the _Romans_ were daily
|
|
exercising themselves in their own Language; and we find yet upon
|
|
Record the Names of Orators who taught some of their Emperors
|
|
_Latin_, tho' it were their Mother Tongue. 'Tis plain the _Greeks_
|
|
were yet more nice in theirs. All other Speech was barbarous to them
|
|
but their own, and no foreign Language appears to have been studied
|
|
or valued amongst that learned and acute People; tho' it be past
|
|
Doubt, that they borrowed their Learning and Philosophy from abroad.
|
|
|
|
"I am not here speaking against _Greek_ and _Latin_. I think
|
|
_Latin_ at least ought to be well understood by every Gentleman. But
|
|
whatever foreign Languages a young Man meddles with, that which he
|
|
should critically study, and labour to get a Facility, Clearness and
|
|
Elegancy to express himself in, should be _his own_; and to this
|
|
Purpose _he should daily be_ EXERCISED in it."
|
|
|
|
To the same Purpose writes a Person of eminent Learning in a
|
|
Letter to Dr. _Turnbull_: "Nothing certainly (says he) can be of more
|
|
Service to Mankind than a right Method of Educating the Youth, and I
|
|
should be glad to hear ------ ------ to give an Example of the great
|
|
Advantage it would be to the _rising Age_, and to our Nation. When
|
|
our publick Schools were first establish'd, the Knowledge of _Latin_
|
|
was thought Learning; and he that had a tolerable Skill in two or
|
|
three Languages, tho' his Mind was not enlightened by any _real
|
|
Knowledge_, was a profound Scholar. But it is not so at present; and
|
|
People confess, that Men may have obtained a Perfection in these, and
|
|
yet continue _deeply ignorant_. The _Greek_ Education was of another
|
|
Kind [which he describes in several Particulars, and adds] They
|
|
studied to write their _own Tongue_ more accurately than we do
|
|
_Latin_ and _Greek_. But where is _English_ taught at present? Who
|
|
thinks it of Use to study correctly _that Language_ which he is to
|
|
use _every Day_ in his Life, be his Station ever so high, or ever so
|
|
insignificant. It is in _this_ the Nobility and Gentry defend their
|
|
Country, and serve their Prince in Parliament; in _this_ the Lawyers
|
|
plead, the Divines instruct, and all Ranks of People write their
|
|
Letters, and transact all their Affairs; and yet who thinks it worth
|
|
his learning to write _this_ even accurately, not to say politely?
|
|
Every one is suffer'd to form his Stile by Chance; to imitate the
|
|
first wretched Model which falls in his Way, before he knows what is
|
|
faulty, or can relish the Beauties of a just Simplicity. Few think
|
|
their Children qualified for a Trade till they have been whipt at a
|
|
_Latin_ School for five or six Years, to learn a little of that which
|
|
they are oblig'd to forget; when in those Years right Education would
|
|
have improv'd their Minds, and taught them to acquire Habits of
|
|
Writing _their own Language_ easily under right Direction; and this
|
|
would have been useful to them as long as they lived." _Introd. p. 3,
|
|
4, 5.
|
|
|
|
Since Mr. _Locke_'s Time, several good Grammars have been wrote
|
|
and publish'd for the Use of Schools; as _Brightland_'s,
|
|
_Greenwood_'s, &c.
|
|
|
|
(* 13) By Pronunciation is here meant, the proper Modulation of
|
|
the Voice, to suit the Subject with due Emphasis, Action, _&c_. In
|
|
delivering a Discourse in Publick, design'd to persuade, the
|
|
_Manner_, perhaps, contributes more to Success, than either the
|
|
_Matter_ or _Method_. Yet the two latter seem to engross the
|
|
Attention of most Preachers and other Publick Speakers, and the
|
|
former to be almost totally neglected.
|
|
|
|
(* 14) As nothing _teaches_ (saith Mr. _Locke_) so nothing
|
|
_delights_ more than HISTORY. The first of these recommends it to
|
|
the Study of grown Men, the latter makes me think it the _fittest_
|
|
for a young Lad, who as soon as he is instructed in Chronology, and
|
|
acquainted with the several Epochas in Use in this Part of the World,
|
|
and can reduce them to the _Julian_ Period, should then have some
|
|
History put into his Hand. _Educ. p._ 276.
|
|
|
|
Mons. _Rollin_ complains, that the College Education in
|
|
_France_ is defective in Teaching _History_, which he thinks may be
|
|
made of great Advantage to Youth. This he demonstrates largely in
|
|
his _Belles Lettres_, to the Satisfaction of all that read the Book.
|
|
He lays down the following Rules for Studying History, _viz_. 1. To
|
|
reduce the Study to Order and Method. 2. To observe what relates to
|
|
Usages and Customs. 3. To enquire particularly, and above all
|
|
Things, after the Truth. 4. To endeavour to find out the Causes of
|
|
the Rise and Fall of States, of the Gaining or Losing of Battles, and
|
|
other Events of Importance. 5. To study the Character of the Nations
|
|
and great Men mentioned in History. 6. To be attentive to such
|
|
Instructions as concern MORAL EXCELLENCY and the CONDUCT OF LIFE. 7.
|
|
Carefully to note every Thing that relates to RELIGION: _Vol._ 3.
|
|
_p._ 146.
|
|
|
|
(* 15) Plenty of these are to be met with in _Montfaucon_; and
|
|
other Books of Antiquities.
|
|
|
|
(* 16) For the Importance and Necessity of moral Instructions to
|
|
Youth, see the latter Notes.
|
|
|
|
(* 17) Dr. _Turnbull_, Liberal Education, _p._ 371, says, "That
|
|
the useful Lessons which ought to be inculcated upon Youth, are much
|
|
better taught and enforced from _Characters_, _Actions_, and
|
|
_Events_, developing the inward Springs of human Conduct, and the
|
|
different Consequences of Actions, whether with Respect to private or
|
|
publick Good, than by abstract Philosophical Lectures. History
|
|
points out in Examples, as in a Glass, all the Passions of the human
|
|
Heart, and all their various Workings in different Circumstances, all
|
|
the Virtues and all the Vices human Nature is capable of; all the
|
|
Snares, all the Temptations, all the Vicissitudes and Incidents of
|
|
human Life; and gives Occasion for Explaining all the Rules of
|
|
Prudence, Decency, Justice and Integrity, in private Oeconomy, and in
|
|
short all the Laws of natural Reason."
|
|
|
|
(* 18) "Rules are best understood, when Examples that confirm
|
|
them, and point out their Fitness or Necessity, naturally lead one,
|
|
as it were by the Hand, to take Notice of them. One who is persuaded
|
|
and moved by a Speech, and heartily admires its Force and Beauty,
|
|
will with Pleasure enter into a critical Examination of its
|
|
Excellencies; and willingly lay up in his Mind the Rules of Rhetoric
|
|
such an Example of Eloquence plainly suggests. But to teach Rules
|
|
abstractly, or without Examples, and before the agreeable Effects the
|
|
Observance of them tends to produce (which are in Reality their
|
|
Reason or Foundation) have been felt, _is exceedingly preposterous_."
|
|
_Turnbull_, p. 410.
|
|
|
|
"I have seldom or never observed any one to get the Skill of
|
|
Speaking handsomely, by Studying the Rules which pretend to teach
|
|
Rhetoric." _Locke_, p. 279.
|
|
|
|
(* 19) See _Turnbull_ on this Head, from p. 386 to 390. very
|
|
much to the Purpose, but too long to be transcribed here.
|
|
|
|
(* 20) Thus, as _Milton_ says, _Educ_. p. 381. should they be
|
|
instructed in the Beginning, End and Reasons of political Societies;
|
|
that they may not, in a dangerous Fit of the Commonwealth, be such
|
|
poor, shaken, uncertain Reeds, of such a tottering Conscience, as
|
|
many of our great Councellors have lately shewn themselves, but
|
|
stedfast Pillars of the State.
|
|
|
|
(* 21) After this, they are to dive into the Grounds of Law and
|
|
legal Justice; deliver'd first and with best Warrant by _Moses_; and
|
|
as far as human Prudence can be trusted, in those celebrated Remains
|
|
of the antient _Grecian_ and _Roman_ Lawgivers, _&c_. p. 382.
|
|
|
|
"When he has pretty well digested _Tully_'s Offices, says Mr.
|
|
_Locke_, p. 277. and added to it _Puffendorff de Officio Hominis &
|
|
Civis_, it may be seasonable to set him upon _Grotius, de Jure Belli
|
|
& Pacis_, or which perhaps is the better of the two, _Puffendorff de
|
|
Jure naturali & Gentium_; wherein he will be instructed in the
|
|
natural Rights of Men, and the Original and Foundations of Society,
|
|
and the Duties resulting from thence. This _general Part of Civil
|
|
Law_ and History are Studies which a Gentleman should not barely
|
|
touch at, but constantly dwell upon, and never have done with. A
|
|
virtuous and well-behaved young Man, that is well versed in the
|
|
_general Part of the Civil Law_ (which concerns not the Chicane of
|
|
private Cases, but the Affairs and Intercourse of civilized Nations
|
|
in general, grounded upon Principles of Reason) understands _Latin_
|
|
well, and can write a good Hand, one may turn loose into the World,
|
|
with great Assurance that he will find Employment and Esteem every
|
|
where."
|
|
|
|
(* 22) Mr. _Walker_, in his excellent Treatise of the Education
|
|
of young Gentlemen, speaking of _Publick and open Argumentation pro
|
|
and con_, says p. 124, 125. "_This is it_ which brings a Question to
|
|
a Point, and discovers the very Center and Knot of the Difficulty.
|
|
_This_ warms and _activates_ the Spirit in the Search of Truth,
|
|
excites Notions, and by replying and frequent Beating upon it,
|
|
_cleanseth_ it from the Ashes, and makes it shine and flame out the
|
|
clearer. Besides, it puts them upon a continual _Stretch_ of their
|
|
Wits to defend their Cause, it makes them quick in Replies, intentive
|
|
upon their Subject; where the _Opponent_ useth all Means to drive his
|
|
Adversary from his Hold; and the _Answerer_ defends himself
|
|
_sometimes_ with the Force of Truth, _sometimes_ with the Subtilty of
|
|
his Wit; and _sometimes_ also he escapes in a Mist of Words, and the
|
|
Doubles of a Distinction, whilst he seeks all Holes and Recesses to
|
|
shelter his persecuted Opinion and Reputation. This properly
|
|
belongeth to the Disputations which are Exercises of young Students,
|
|
who are by these Velitations and in this Palaestra brought up to a
|
|
more serious Search of Truth. And in them I think it not a Fault _to
|
|
dispute for Victory_, and to endeavour to save their Reputation; nor
|
|
that their Questions and Subjects are concerning Things of small
|
|
Moment and little Reality; yea, I have known some Governors that have
|
|
absolutely forbidden such Questions, where the Truth was of
|
|
Concernment, on purpose that the Youth might have the Liberty of
|
|
exerting their Parts to the uttermost, and that there might be no
|
|
Stint to their Emulation."
|
|
|
|
(* 23) _Rollin_, _Vol._ 4. _p._ 211. speaking of _Natural
|
|
Philosophy_, says, "That much of it falls within the Capacity of all
|
|
Sorts of Persons, even of Children. It consists in attending to the
|
|
Objects with which nature presents us, in considering them with Care,
|
|
and admiring their different Beauties, _&c_. Searching out their
|
|
secret Causes indeed more properly belongs to the Learned.
|
|
|
|
"I say that even Children are capable of Studying Nature, for
|
|
they have Eyes, and don't want Curiosity; they ask Questions, and
|
|
love to be informed; and here we need only awaken and keep up in them
|
|
the Desire of Learning and Knowing, which is natural to all Mankind.
|
|
Besides this Study, if it is to be called a Study, instead of being
|
|
painful and tedious, is pleasant and agreeable; it may be used as a
|
|
Recreation, and should usually be made a Diversion. It is
|
|
inconceivable, how many Things Children are capable of, if all the
|
|
Opportunities of Instructing them were laid hold of, with which they
|
|
themselves supply us.
|
|
|
|
"A Garden, a Country, a Plantation, are all so many Books which
|
|
lie open to them; but they must have been taught and accustomed to
|
|
read in them. Nothing is more common amongst us than the Use of
|
|
Bread and Linnen. How seldom do Children know how either of them are
|
|
prepared, through how many Operations and Hands the Corn and Flax
|
|
must pass, before they are turned into Bread and Linnen? The same
|
|
may be said of Cloth, which bears no Resemblance to the Wool whereof
|
|
it is formed, any more than Paper to the Rags which are picked up in
|
|
the Streets: And why should not Children be instructed in these
|
|
wonderful Works of Nature and Art which they every Day make Use of
|
|
without reflecting upon them?
|
|
|
|
"He adds, that a careful Master may in this Way enrich the Mind
|
|
of his Disciple with a great Number of useful and agreeable Ideas,
|
|
and by a properMixture of short Reflections, will at the same Time
|
|
take Care to form his Heart, and lead him by Nature to Religion."
|
|
|
|
_Milton_ also recommends the Study of _Natural Philosophy_ to
|
|
Youth, _Educ. p._ 380. "In this, says he, they may proceed leisurely
|
|
from the History of Meteors, Minerals, Plants and living Creatures,
|
|
as far as Anatomy; Then also in Course might be read to them out of
|
|
some not tedious Writer, the Institution of Physick; that they may
|
|
know the Tempers, the Humours, the Seasons, and how to manage a
|
|
Crudity; which he who can wisely and timely do, is not only a great
|
|
Physician to himself, and to his Friends, but also may at some Time
|
|
or other save an Army by this frugal and expenseless Means only; and
|
|
not let the healthy and stout Bodies of young Men rot away under him
|
|
for want of this Discipline, which is a great Pity, and no less a
|
|
Shame to the Commander."
|
|
|
|
Proper Books may be, _Ray_'s _Wisdom of God in the Creation_,
|
|
_Derham_'s _Physico-Theology_, _Spectacle de la Nature_, &c.
|
|
|
|
(* 24) _Milton_ would have the _Latin_ Authors on Agriculture
|
|
taught at School, as _Cato_, _Varro_ and _Columella_; "for the
|
|
Matter, says he, is most easy, and if the Language be difficult, yet
|
|
it may be master'd. And here will be an Occasion of _inciting_ and
|
|
_enabling_ them hereafter to improve the Tillage of their Country, to
|
|
recover the bad Soil, and to remedy the Waste that is made of Good;
|
|
for this was one of _Hercules'_ Praises." _Educ. p._ 379.
|
|
|
|
_Hutcheson_ (Dialogues on Educ. 303, 2d Vol.) says, "Nor should
|
|
I think it below the Dignity or Regard of an University, to descend
|
|
even to the general Precepts of _Agriculture_ and _Gardening_.
|
|
_Virgil_, _Varro_, and others eminent in Learning, tho't it not below
|
|
their Pen -- and why should we think meanly of that Art, which was
|
|
the Mother of Heroes, and of the Masters of the World."
|
|
|
|
_Locke_ also recommends the Study of Husbandry and Gardening,
|
|
as well as gaining an Insight in several of the manual Arts; _Educ.
|
|
p._ 309, 314, 315. It would be a Pleasure and Diversion to Boys to
|
|
be led now and then to the Shops of Artificers, and suffer'd to spend
|
|
some Time there in observing their Manner of Working. For the
|
|
Usefulness of Mechanic Skill, even to Gentlemen, see the Pages above
|
|
cited, to which much might be added.
|
|
|
|
(* 25) How many Mills are built and Machines constructed, at
|
|
great and fruitless Expence, which a little Knowledge in the
|
|
Principles of Mechanics would have prevented?
|
|
|
|
(* 26) We are often told in the Journals of Travellers, that
|
|
such and such Things are done in foreign Countries, by which Labour
|
|
is sav'd, and Manufactures expedited, _&c_. but their Description of
|
|
the Machines or Instruments used, are quite unintelligible for want
|
|
of good Drafts. Copying Prints of Machines is of Use to fix the
|
|
Attention on the several Parts, their Proportions, Reasons, Effects,
|
|
_&c_. A Man that has been us'd to this Practice, is not only better
|
|
able to make a Draft when the Machine is before him, but takes so
|
|
much better Notice of its Appearance, that he can carry it off by
|
|
Memory when he has not the Opportunity of Drawing it on the Spot.
|
|
Thus may a Traveller bring home Things of great Use to his Country.
|
|
|
|
(* 27) "Upon this excellent Disposition (says _Turnbull_, p.
|
|
326.) it will be _easy to build_ that amiable Quality commonly called
|
|
GOOD BREEDING, and upon _no other Foundation_ can it be raised. For
|
|
whence else can it spring, but from a general Good-will and Regard
|
|
for all People, deeply rooted in the Heart, which makes any one that
|
|
has it, careful not to shew in his Carriage, any Contempt,
|
|
Disrespect, or Neglect of them, but to express a Value and Respect
|
|
for them according to their Rank and Condition, suitable to the
|
|
Fashion and Way of their Country? 'Tis a Disposition to make all we
|
|
converse with easy and well pleased."
|
|
|
|
(* 28) It is this lovely Quality which gives true Beauty to all
|
|
other Accomplishments, or renders them useful to their Possessor, in
|
|
procuring him the Esteem and Good-will of all that he comes near.
|
|
Without it, his other Qualities, however good in themselves, make him
|
|
but pass for proud, conceited, vain or foolish. Courage, says an
|
|
excellent Writer, in an ill-bred Man has the Air, and escapes not the
|
|
Opinion of Brutality; Learning becomes Pedantry; Wit, Buffoonery;
|
|
Plainness, Rusticity; and there cannot be a good Quality in him which
|
|
Ill-breeding will not warp and disfigure to his Disadvantage."
|
|
_Turnbull_, p. 327.
|
|
|
|
(* 29) To have in View the _Glory_ and _Service of God_, as some
|
|
express themselves, is only the same Thing in other Words. For
|
|
_Doing Good to Men_ is the _only Service of God_ in our Power; and to
|
|
_imitate his Beneficence_ is to _glorify him_. Hence _Milton_ says,
|
|
"The _End_ of Learning is to repair the Ruins of our first Parents,
|
|
by regaining to _know God aright_, and out of that Knowledge to _love
|
|
him_, to _imitate_ him, to be _like him_, as we may the nearest by
|
|
possessing our Souls of true Virtue." _Educ. p._ 373. Mr.
|
|
_Hutcheson_ says, _Dial_. v. 2. _p._ 97. "The _principal End_ of
|
|
Education is, to _form us wise and good Creatures, useful to others,
|
|
and happy ourselves_. The whole Art of Education lies within a
|
|
narrow Compass, and is reducible to a very simple Practice; namely,
|
|
_To assist in unfolding those Natural and Moral Powers with which Man
|
|
is endowed, by presenting proper Objects and Occasions; to watch
|
|
their Growth that they be not diverted from their End, or disturbed
|
|
in their Operation by any foreign Violence; and gently to conduct and
|
|
apply them to all the Purposes of private and of public Life_." And
|
|
Mr. _Locke_ (p. 84. Educ.) says, "'Tis VIRTUE, then, direct VIRTUE,
|
|
which is to be _aim'd at_ in Education. All other Considerations and
|
|
Accomplishments are nothing in Comparison to this. This is the
|
|
_solid_ and _substantial_ Good, which Tutors should not only read
|
|
Lectures and talk of, but the _Labour_ and _Art of Education_ should
|
|
furnish the Mind with, and _fasten_ there, and never cease till the
|
|
young Man had a true Relish of it, and plac'd his _Strength_, his
|
|
_Glory_, and his _Pleasure_, in it." And Mons. _Rollin_, _Belles
|
|
Lettres_, Vol. 4. p. 249. to the same Purpose, "If we consult our
|
|
Reason ever so little, it is easy to discern that the END which
|
|
Masters should have in View, is not barely to teach their Scholars
|
|
_Greek_ and _Latin_, to learn them to make Exercises and Verses, to
|
|
charge their Memory with Facts and historical Dates, to draw up
|
|
Syllogisms in Form, or to trace Lines and Figures upon Paper. These
|
|
Branches of Learning I own are useful and valuable, but as _Means_,
|
|
and not as the _End_; when they conduct us to other Things, and not
|
|
when we stop at them; when they serve us as Preparatives and
|
|
Instruments for better Knowledge, without which the rest would be
|
|
useless. Youth would have Cause to complain, if they were condemned
|
|
to spend eight or ten of the best Years of their Life in learning, at
|
|
a great Expence, and with incredible Pains, one or two Languages, and
|
|
some other Matters of a like Nature, which perhaps they would seldom
|
|
have Occasion to use. The End of Masters, in the long Course of
|
|
their Studies, is to habituate their Scholars to serious Application
|
|
of Mind, to make them love and value the Sciences, and to cultivate
|
|
in them such a Taste, as shall make them thirst after them when they
|
|
are gone from School; to point out the Method of attaining them; and
|
|
make them thoroughly sensible of their Use and Value; and by that
|
|
Means dispose them for the different Employments to which it shall
|
|
please God to call them. Besides this, the _End_ of Masters should
|
|
be, _to improve their Hearts_ and Understandings, to protect their
|
|
Innocence, to _inspire_ them with Principles of _Honour_ and
|
|
_Probity_, to train them up to good Habits; to correct and subdue in
|
|
them by gentle Means, the ill Inclinations they shall be observed to
|
|
have, such as Pride, Insolence, an high Opinion of themselves, and a
|
|
saucy Vanity continually employed in lessening others; a blind
|
|
Self-love solely attentive to its own Advantage; a Spirit of Raillery
|
|
which is pleased with offending and insulting others; an Indolence
|
|
and Sloth, which renders all the good Qualities of the Mind useless."
|
|
|
|
Dr. _Turnbull_ has the same Sentiments, with which we shall
|
|
conclude this Note. If, says he, there be any such Thing as DUTY, or
|
|
any such Thing as HAPPINESS; if there be any Difference between right
|
|
and wrong Conduct; any Distinction between Virtue and Vice, or Wisdom
|
|
and Folly; in fine, if there be any such Thing as Perfection or
|
|
Imperfection belonging to the rational Powers which constitute moral
|
|
Agents; or if Enjoyments and Pursuits admit of Comparison; _Good
|
|
Education_ must of Necessity be acknowledged to mean, _proper Care_
|
|
to instruct early in the Science of Happiness and Duty, or in the Art
|
|
of Judging and _Acting aright_ in Life. Whatever else one may have
|
|
learned, if he comes into the World from his Schooling and Masters,
|
|
quite unacquainted with the Nature, Rank and Condition, of Mankind,
|
|
and the _Duties of human Life_ (in its more ordinary Circumstances at
|
|
least) he hath lost his Time; _he is not educated_; he is not
|
|
prepared for the World; he is not qualified for Society; he is not
|
|
fitted for discharging the _proper Business of Man_. The Way
|
|
therefore to judge whether Education be on a right Footing or not, is
|
|
to compare it with the END; or to consider what it does in order to
|
|
accomplish Youth for choosing and _behaving well_ in the various
|
|
Conditions, _Relations_ and Incidents, of Life. If Education be
|
|
calculated and adapted to furnish young Minds betimes with proper
|
|
Knowledge for their Guidance and Direction in the chief Affairs of
|
|
the World, and in the principal Vicissitudes to which human Concerns
|
|
are subject, then is it indeed _proper or right Education._ But if
|
|
_such Instruction_ be not the _principal Scope_ to which all other
|
|
Lessons are rendered subservient in what is called the _Institution
|
|
of Youth_, either _the Art of Living and Acting well_ is not Man's
|
|
_most important_ Business, or what ought to be the CHIEF END of
|
|
Education is neglected, and sacrificed to something of _far inferior_
|
|
Moment. _Observations on Liberal Education_, p. 175, 176.
|
|
|
|
Philadelphia, 1749
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Rules Proper to be Observed in Trade_
|
|
|
|
I. Endeavour to be perfect in the calling you are engaged in;
|
|
and be assiduous in every part thereof; INDUSTRY being the natural
|
|
means of acquiring _wealth_, _honour_, and _reputation_; as
|
|
_idleness_ is of _poverty_, _shame_, and _disgrace_.
|
|
|
|
II. Lay a good foundation in regard to principle: Be sure not
|
|
wilfully to over-reach, or deceive your neighbour; but keep always in
|
|
your eye the golden rule of _doing as you would be done unto_.
|
|
|
|
III. Be strict in discharging all legal debts: Do not evade
|
|
your creditors by any shuffling arts, in giving notes under your
|
|
hand, only to defer payment; but, if you have it in your power,
|
|
discharge all debts when they become due. Above all, when you are
|
|
straitened for want of money, be cautious of taking it up at an high
|
|
interest. This has been the ruin of many, therefore endeavour to
|
|
avoid it.
|
|
|
|
IV. Endeavour to be as much in your shop, or warehouse, or in
|
|
whatever place your business properly lies, as possibly you can:
|
|
Leave it not to servants to transact, for customers will not regard
|
|
them as yourself; they generally think they shall not be so well
|
|
served: Besides, mistakes may arise by the negligence, or
|
|
inexperience, of servants; and therefore, your presence will prevent,
|
|
probably, the loss of a good customer.
|
|
|
|
V. Be complaisant to the _meanest_, as well as greatest: You
|
|
are as much obliged to use good manners for a farthing, as a pound;
|
|
the one demands it from you, as well as the other.
|
|
|
|
VI. Be not too talkative, but speak as much as is necessary to
|
|
recommend your goods, and always observe to keep within the rules of
|
|
decency. If customers slight your goods, and undervalue them,
|
|
endeavour to convince them of their mistake, if you can, but not
|
|
affront them: Do not be pert in your answers, but with patience hear,
|
|
and with meekness give an answer; for if you affront in a small
|
|
matter, it may probably hinder you from a future good customer. They
|
|
may think that you are dear in the articles they want; but, by going
|
|
to another, may find it not so, and probably may return again; but if
|
|
you behave rude and affronting, there is no hope either of returning,
|
|
or their future custom.
|
|
|
|
VII. Take great care in keeping your accounts well: Enter every
|
|
thing necessary in your books with neatness and exactness; often
|
|
state your accounts, and examine whether you gain, or lose; and
|
|
carefully survey your stock, and inspect into every particular of
|
|
your affairs.
|
|
|
|
VIII. Take care, as much as you can, whom you trust: Neither
|
|
take nor give long credit; but, at the farthest, annually settle your
|
|
accounts. Deal at the fountain head for as many articles as you can;
|
|
and, if it lies in your power, for ready money: This method you will
|
|
find to be the most profitable in the end. Endeavour to keep a
|
|
proper assortment in your way, but not over-stock yourself. Aim not
|
|
at making a great figure in your shop, in unnecessary ornaments, but
|
|
let it be neat and useful: Too great an appearance may rather
|
|
prevent, than engage customers. Make your _business_ your pleasure,
|
|
and other entertainments will only appear necessary for relaxation
|
|
therefrom.
|
|
|
|
IX. Strive to maintain a _fair character_ in the world: That
|
|
will be the best means for advancing your credit, gaining you the
|
|
most flourishing trade, and enlarging your fortune. Condescend to no
|
|
mean action, but add a lustre to trade, by keeping up to the dignity
|
|
of your nature.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, February 20, 1749/50
|
|
|
|
_Rules for Making Oneself a Disagreeable Companion
|
|
|
|
RULES, _by the Observation of which, a Man of Wit and Learning
|
|
may nevertheless make himself a_ disagreeable _Companion_.
|
|
|
|
Your Business is to _shine_; therefore you must by all means
|
|
prevent the shining of others, for their Brightness may make yours
|
|
the less distinguish'd. To this End,
|
|
|
|
1. If possible engross the whole Discourse; and when other
|
|
Matter fails, talk much of your-self, your Education, your Knowledge,
|
|
your Circumstances, your Successes in Business, your Victories in
|
|
Disputes, your own wise Sayings and Observations on particular
|
|
Occasions, &c. &c. &c.
|
|
|
|
|
|
2. If when you are out of Breath, one of the Company should
|
|
seize the Opportunity of saying something; watch his Words, and, if
|
|
possible, find somewhat either in his Sentiment or Expression,
|
|
immediately to contradict and raise a Dispute upon. Rather than
|
|
fail, criticise even his Grammar.
|
|
|
|
3. If another should be saying an indisputably good Thing;
|
|
either give no Attention to it; or interrupt him; or draw away the
|
|
Attention of others; or, if you can guess what he would be at, be
|
|
quick and say it before him; or, if he gets it said, and you perceive
|
|
the Company pleas'd with it, own it to be a good Thing, and withal
|
|
remark that it had been said by _Bacon_, _Locke_, _Bayle_, or some
|
|
other eminent Writer; thus you deprive him of the Reputation he might
|
|
have gain'd by it, and gain some yourself, as you hereby show your
|
|
great Reading and Memory.
|
|
|
|
4. When modest Men have been thus treated by you a few times,
|
|
they will chuse ever after to be silent in your Company; then you may
|
|
shine on without Fear of a Rival; rallying them at the same time for
|
|
their Dullness, which will be to you a new Fund of Wit.
|
|
|
|
Thus you will be sure to please _yourself_. The polite Man
|
|
aims at pleasing _others_, but you shall go beyond him even in that.
|
|
A Man can be present only in one Company, but may at the same time be
|
|
absent in twenty. He can please only where he _is_, you where-ever
|
|
you are _not_.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, November 15, 1750
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Idea of the English School_
|
|
|
|
_Sketch'd out for the Consideration of the_ Trustees _of the_
|
|
PHILADELPHIA ACADEMY.
|
|
|
|
It is expected that every Scholar to be admitted into this
|
|
School, be at least able to pronounce and divide the Syllables in
|
|
Reading, and to write a legible Hand. None to be receiv'd that are
|
|
under Years of Age.
|
|
|
|
_First or lowest_ CLASS.
|
|
|
|
Let the first Class learn the _English Grammar_ Rules, and at
|
|
the same time let particular Care be taken to improve them in
|
|
_Orthography_. Perhaps the latter is best done by _Pairing_ the
|
|
Scholars, two of those nearest equal in their Spelling to be put
|
|
together; let these strive for Victory, each propounding Ten Words
|
|
every Day to the other to be spelt. He that spells truly most of the
|
|
other's Words, is Victor for that Day; he that is Victor most Days in
|
|
a Month, to obtain a Prize, a pretty neat Book of some Kind useful in
|
|
their future Studies. This Method fixes the Attention of Children
|
|
extreamly to the Orthography of Words, and makes them good Spellers
|
|
very early. 'Tis a Shame for a Man to be so ignorant of this little
|
|
Art, in his own Language, as to be perpetually confounding Words of
|
|
like Sound and different Significations; the Consciousness of which
|
|
Defect, makes some Men, otherwise of good Learning and Understanding,
|
|
averse to Writing even a common Letter.
|
|
|
|
Let the Pieces read by the Scholars in this Class be short,
|
|
such as _Croxall_'s Fables, and little Stories. In giving the
|
|
Lesson, let it be read to them; let the Meaning of the difficult
|
|
Words in it be explained to them, and let them con it over by
|
|
themselves before they are called to read to the Master, or Usher;
|
|
who is to take particular Care that they do not read too fast, and
|
|
that they duly observe the Stops and Pauses. A Vocabulary of the
|
|
most usual difficult Words might be formed for their Use, with
|
|
Explanations; and they might daily get a few of those Words and
|
|
Explanations by Heart, which would a little exercise their Memories;
|
|
or at least they might write a Number of them in a small Book for the
|
|
Purpose, which would help to fix the Meaning of those Words in their
|
|
Minds, and at the same Time furnish every one with a little
|
|
Dictionary for his future Use.
|
|
|
|
_The Second_ CLASS _to be taught_
|
|
|
|
Reading with Attention, and with proper Modulations of the
|
|
Voice according to the Sentiments and Subject.
|
|
|
|
Some short Pieces, not exceeding the Length of a _Spectator_,
|
|
to be given this Class as Lessons (and some of the easier
|
|
_Spectators_ would be very suitable for the Purpose.) These Lessons
|
|
might be given over Night as Tasks, the Scholars to study them
|
|
against the Morning. Let it then be required of them to give an
|
|
Account, first of the Parts of Speech, and Construction of one or two
|
|
Sentences; this will oblige them to recur frequently to their
|
|
Grammar, and fix its principal Rules in their Memory. Next of the
|
|
_Intention_ of the Writer, or the _Scope_ of the Piece; the Meaning
|
|
of each Sentence, and of every uncommon Word. This would early
|
|
acquaint them with the Meaning and Force of Words, and give them that
|
|
most necessary Habit, of Reading with Attention.
|
|
|
|
The Master then to read the Piece with the proper Modulations
|
|
of Voice, due Emphasis, and suitable Action, where Action is
|
|
required; and put the Youth on imitating his Manner.
|
|
|
|
Where the Author has us'd an Expression not the best, let it be
|
|
pointed out; and let his Beauties be particularly remarked to the
|
|
Youth.
|
|
|
|
Let the Lessons for Reading be varied, that the Youth may be
|
|
made acquainted with good Stiles of all Kinds in Prose and Verse, and
|
|
the proper Manner of reading each Kind. Sometimes a well-told Story,
|
|
a Piece of a Sermon, a General's Speech to his Soldiers, a Speech in
|
|
a Tragedy, some Part of a Comedy, an Ode, a Satyr, a Letter, Blank
|
|
Verse, Hudibrastick, Heroic, _&c_. But let such Lessons for Reading
|
|
be chosen, as contain some useful Instruction, whereby the
|
|
Understandings or Morals of the Youth, may at the same Time be
|
|
improv'd.
|
|
|
|
It is requir'd that they should first study and understand the
|
|
Lessons, before they are put upon reading them properly, to which End
|
|
each Boy should have an _English_ Dictionary to help him over
|
|
Difficulties. When our Boys read _English_ to us, we are apt to
|
|
imagine _they_ understand what _they_ read because _we_ do, and
|
|
because 'tis their Mother Tongue. But they often read as Parrots
|
|
speak, knowing little or nothing of the Meaning. And it is
|
|
impossible a Reader should give the due Modulation to his Voice, and
|
|
pronounce properly, unless his Understanding goes before his Tongue,
|
|
and makes him Master of the Sentiment. Accustoming Boys to read
|
|
aloud what they do not first understand, is the Cause of those even
|
|
set Tones so common among Readers, which when they have once got a
|
|
Habit of using, they find so difficult to correct: By which Means,
|
|
among Fifty Readers we scarcely find a good One. For want of good
|
|
Reading, Pieces publish'd with a View to influence the Minds of Men
|
|
for their own or the publick Benefit, lose Half their Force. Were
|
|
there but one good Reader in a Neighbourhood, a publick Orator might
|
|
be heard throughout a Nation with the same Advantages, and have the
|
|
same Effect on his Audience, as if they stood within the Reach of his
|
|
Voice.
|
|
|
|
_The Third_ CLASS _to be taught_
|
|
|
|
Speaking properly and gracefully, which is near of Kin to good
|
|
Reading, and naturally follows it in the Studies of Youth. Let the
|
|
Scholars of this Class begin with learning the Elements of Rhetoric
|
|
from some short System, so as to be able to give an Account of the
|
|
most usual Tropes and Figures. Let all their bad Habits of Speaking,
|
|
all Offences against good Grammar, all corrupt or foreign Accents,
|
|
and all improper Phrases, be pointed out to them. Short Speeches
|
|
from the _Roman_ or other History, or from our _Parliamentary
|
|
Debates_, might be got by heart, and deliver'd with the proper
|
|
Action, _&c_. Speeches and Scenes in our best Tragedies and Comedies
|
|
(avoiding every Thing that could injure the Morals of Youth) might
|
|
likewise be got by Rote, and the Boys exercis'd in delivering or
|
|
acting them; great Care being taken to form their Manner after the
|
|
truest Models.
|
|
|
|
For their farther Improvement, and a little to vary their
|
|
Studies, let them now begin to read _History_, after having got by
|
|
Heart a short Table of the principal Epochas in Chronology. They may
|
|
begin with _Rollin_'s _Antient and Roman Histories_, and proceed at
|
|
proper Hours as they go thro' the subsequent Classes, with the best
|
|
Histories of our own Nation and Colonies. Let Emulation be excited
|
|
among the Boys by giving, Weekly, little Prizes, or other small
|
|
Encouragements to those who are able to give the best Account of what
|
|
they have read, as to Times, Places, Names of Persons, _&c_. This
|
|
will make them read with Attention, and imprint the History well in
|
|
their Memories. In remarking on the History, the Master will have
|
|
fine Opportunities of instilling Instruction of various Kinds, and
|
|
improving the Morals as well as the Understandings of Youth.
|
|
|
|
The Natural and Mechanic History contain'd in _Spectacle de la
|
|
Nature_, might also be begun in this Class, and continued thro' the
|
|
subsequent Classes by other Books of the same Kind: For next to the
|
|
Knowledge of _Duty_, this Kind of Knowledge is certainly the most
|
|
useful, as well as the most entertaining. The Merchant may thereby
|
|
be enabled better to understand many Commodities in Trade; the
|
|
Handicraftsman to improve his Business by new Instruments, Mixtures
|
|
and Materials; and frequently Hints are given of new Manufactures, or
|
|
new Methods of improving Land, that may be set on foot greatly to the
|
|
Advantage of a Country.
|
|
|
|
_The Fourth_ CLASS _to be taught_
|
|
|
|
Composition. Writing one's own Language well, is the next
|
|
necessary Accomplishment after good Speaking. 'Tis the
|
|
Writing-Master's Business to take Care that the Boys make fair
|
|
Characters, and place them straight and even in the Lines: But to
|
|
_form their Stile_, and even to take Care that the Stops and Capitals
|
|
are properly disposed, is the Part of the _English_ Master. The Boys
|
|
should be put on Writing Letters to each other on any common
|
|
Occurrences, and on various Subjects, imaginary Business, _&c_.
|
|
containing little Stories, Accounts of their late Reading, what Parts
|
|
of Authors please them, and why. Letters of Congratulation, of
|
|
Compliment, of Request, of Thanks, of Recommendation, of Admonition,
|
|
of Consolation, of Expostulation, Excuse, _&c_. In these they should
|
|
be taught to express themselves clearly, concisely, and naturally,
|
|
without affected Words, or high-flown Phrases. All their Letters to
|
|
pass through the Master's Hand, who is to point out the Faults,
|
|
advise the Corrections, and commend what he finds right. Some of the
|
|
best Letters published in our own Language, as Sir _William
|
|
Temple_'s, those of _Pope_, and his Friends, and some others, might
|
|
be set before the Youth as Models, their Beauties pointed out and
|
|
explained by the Master, the Letters themselves transcrib'd by the
|
|
Scholar.
|
|
|
|
Dr. Johnson's _Ethices Elementa_, or first Principles of
|
|
Morality, may now be read by the Scholars, and explain'd by the
|
|
Master, to lay a solid Foundation of Virtue and Piety in their Minds.
|
|
And as this Class continues the Reading of History, let them now at
|
|
proper Hours receive some farther Instructions in Chronology, and in
|
|
that Part of Geography (from the Mathematical Master) which is
|
|
necessary to understand the Maps and Globes. They should also be
|
|
acquainted with the modern Names of the Places they find mention'd in
|
|
antient Writers. The Exercises of good Reading and proper Speaking
|
|
still continued at suitable Times.
|
|
|
|
_Fifth_ CLASS.
|
|
|
|
To improve the Youth in _Composition_, they may now, besides
|
|
continuing to write Letters, begin to write little Essays in Prose;
|
|
and sometimes in Verse, not to make them Poets, but for this Reason,
|
|
that nothing acquaints a Lad so speedily with Variety of Expression,
|
|
as the Necessity of finding such Words and Phrases as will suit with
|
|
the Measure, Sound and Rhime of Verse, and at the same Time well
|
|
express the Sentiment. These Essays should all pass under the
|
|
Master's Eye, who will point out their Faults, and put the Writer on
|
|
correcting them. Where the Judgment is not ripe enough for forming
|
|
new Essays, let the Sentiments of a _Spectator_ be given, and
|
|
requir'd to be cloath'd in a Scholar's own Words; or the
|
|
Circumstances of some good Story, the Scholar to find Expression.
|
|
Let them be put sometimes on abridging a Paragraph of a diffuse
|
|
Author, sometimes on dilating or amplifying what is wrote more
|
|
closely. And now let Dr. _Johnson_'s _Noetica_, or first Principles
|
|
of human Knowledge, containing a Logic, or Art of Reasoning, _&c_. be
|
|
read by the Youth, and the Difficulties that may occur to them be
|
|
explained by the Master. The Reading of History, and the Exercises
|
|
of good Reading and just Speaking still continued.
|
|
|
|
_Sixth_ CLASS.
|
|
|
|
In this Class, besides continuing the Studies of the preceding,
|
|
in History, Rhetoric, Logic, Moral and Natural Philosophy, the best
|
|
_English_ Authors may be read and explain'd; as _Tillotson_,
|
|
_Milton_, _Locke_, _Addison_, _Pope_, _Swift_, the higher Papers in
|
|
the _Spectator_ and _Guardian_, the best Translations of _Homer_,
|
|
_Virgil_ and _Horace_, of _Telemachus_, _Travels of Cyrus_, &c.
|
|
|
|
Once a Year, let there be publick Exercises in the Hall, the
|
|
Trustees and Citizens present. Then let fine gilt Books be given as
|
|
Prizes to such Boys as distinguish themselves, and excel the others
|
|
in any Branch of Learning; making three Degrees of Comparison; giving
|
|
the best Prize to him that performs best; a less valuable One to him
|
|
that comes up next to the best; and another to the third.
|
|
Commendations, Encouragement and Advice to the rest; keeping up their
|
|
Hopes that by Industry they may excel another Time. The Names of
|
|
those that obtain the Prizes, to be yearly printed in a List.
|
|
|
|
The Hours of each Day are to be divided and dispos'd in such a
|
|
Manner, as that some Classes may be with the Writing-Master,
|
|
improving their Hands, others with the Mathematical Master, learning
|
|
Arithmetick, Accompts, Geography, Use of the Globes, Drawing,
|
|
Mechanicks, _&c_. while the rest are in the _English_ School, under
|
|
the _English_ Master's Care.
|
|
|
|
Thus instructed, Youth will come out of this School fitted for
|
|
learning any Business, Calling or Profession, except such wherein
|
|
Languages are required; and tho' unaquainted with any antient or
|
|
foreign Tongue, they will be Masters of their own, which is of more
|
|
immediate and general Use; and withal will have attain'd many other
|
|
valuable Accomplishments; the Time usually spent in acquiring those
|
|
Languages, often without Success, being here employ'd in laying such
|
|
a Foundation of Knowledge and Ability, as, properly improv'd, may
|
|
qualify them to pass thro' and execute the several Offices of civil
|
|
Life, with Advantage and Reputation to themselves and Country.
|
|
|
|
Philadelphia, B. Franklin and D. Hall, at the Post-Office, 1751
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Course of Experiments_
|
|
|
|
Philadelphia, April 11, 1751.
|
|
Notice is hereby given to the CURIOUS, That on _Wednesday_
|
|
next, Mr. _Kinnersley_ proposes to begin a Course of Experiments on
|
|
the newly-discovered ELECTRICAL FIRE, containing not only the most
|
|
curious of those that have been made and published in _Europe_, but a
|
|
considerable Number of new Ones lately made in this City; to be
|
|
accompanied with methodical LECTURES on the Nature and Properties of
|
|
that wonderful Element, _viz_.
|
|
|
|
LECTURE I.
|
|
|
|
I. Of Electricity in General, giving some Account of the
|
|
Discovery of it.
|
|
|
|
II. That the Electric Fire is a real Element, and different
|
|
from those heretofore known and named, and _collected_ out of other
|
|
Matter (not created) by the Friction of Glass, _&c_.
|
|
|
|
III. That it is an extreamly subtile Fluid.
|
|
|
|
IV. That it doth not take up any perceptible Time in passing
|
|
thro' large Portions of Space.
|
|
|
|
V. That it is intimately mixed with the Substance of all the
|
|
other Fluids and Solids of our Globe.
|
|
|
|
VI. That our Bodies at all Times contain enough of it to set a
|
|
House on Fire.
|
|
|
|
VII. That tho' it will fire inflammable Matters, itself has no
|
|
sensible Heat.
|
|
|
|
VIII. That it differs from common Matter in this; Its Parts do
|
|
not mutually attract, but mutually repel each other.
|
|
|
|
IX. That it is strongly attracted by all other Matter.
|
|
|
|
X. An artificial Spider, animated by the Electric Fire, so as
|
|
to act like a live One.
|
|
|
|
XI. A perpetual Shower of Sand, which rises again as fast as it
|
|
falls.
|
|
|
|
XII. That common Matter in the form of Points attracts this
|
|
Fire more strongly than in any other Form.
|
|
|
|
XIII. A Leaf of the most weighty of Metals suspended in the
|
|
Air, as is said of _Mahomet_'s Tomb.
|
|
|
|
XIV. An Appearance like Fishes swimming in the Air.
|
|
|
|
|
|
XV. That this Fire will live in Water, a River not being
|
|
sufficient to quench the smallest Spark of it.
|
|
|
|
XVI. A Representation of the Sensitive Plant.
|
|
|
|
XVII. A Representation of the seven Planets, shewing a probable
|
|
Cause of their keeping their due Distances from each other, and from
|
|
the Sun in the Center.
|
|
|
|
XVIII. The Salute repulsed by the Ladies Fire; or Fire darting
|
|
from a Lady's Lips, so that she may defy any Person to salute her.
|
|
|
|
XIX. Eight musical Bells rung by an electrified Phial of Water.
|
|
|
|
XX. A Battery of eleven Guns discharged by Fire issuing out of
|
|
a Person's Finger.
|
|
|
|
LECTURE II.
|
|
|
|
I. A Description and Explanation of Mr. _Muschenbroek_'s
|
|
wonderful Bottle.
|
|
|
|
II. The amazing Force of the Electric Fire in passing thro' a
|
|
Number of Bodies at the same Instant.
|
|
|
|
III. An Electric Mine sprung.
|
|
|
|
IV. Electrified Money, which scarce any Body will take when
|
|
offer'd to them.
|
|
|
|
V. A Piece of Money drawn out of a Persons Mouth in spite of
|
|
his Teeth; yet without touching it, or offering him the least
|
|
Violence.
|
|
|
|
VI. Spirits kindled by Fire darting from a Lady's Eyes (without
|
|
a Metaphor.)
|
|
|
|
VII. Various Representations of Lightning, the Cause and
|
|
Effects of which will be explained by a more probable Hypothesis than
|
|
has hitherto appeared, and some useful Instructions given how to
|
|
avoid the Danger of it: How to secure Houses, Ships, _&c_. from being
|
|
hurt by its destructive Violence.
|
|
|
|
VIII. The Force of the Electric Spark making a fair Hole thro'
|
|
a Quire of Paper.
|
|
|
|
IX. Metal melted by it (tho' without any Heat) in less than the
|
|
thousandth Part of a Minute.
|
|
|
|
X. Animals killed by it instantaneously (if any of the Company
|
|
desire it, and will be pleased to send some for that Purpose.)
|
|
|
|
|
|
XI. Air issuing out of a Bladder set on Fire by a Spark from a
|
|
Person's Finger, and burning like a Volcano.
|
|
|
|
XII. A few Drops of electrified cold Water let fall on a
|
|
Person's Hand, supplying him with Fire sufficient to kindle a burning
|
|
Flame with one of the Fingers of his other Hand.
|
|
|
|
XIII. A Sulphureous Vapour kindled into Flame by Fire issuing
|
|
out of a cold Apple.
|
|
|
|
XIV. A curious Machine acting by means of the Electric Fire,
|
|
and playing Variety of Tunes on eight musical Bells.
|
|
|
|
XV. A Battery of eleven Guns discharged by a Spark, after it
|
|
has passed thro' ten Foot of Water.
|
|
|
|
As the Knowledge of Nature tends to enlarge the human Mind, and
|
|
give us more noble, more grand and exalted Ideas of the AUTHOR of
|
|
Nature, and if well pursu'd seldom fails producing something _useful_
|
|
to Man, 'tis hoped these Lectures may be thought worthy of Regard and
|
|
Encouragement.
|
|
|
|
_Tickets_ to be had at Mr. _Kinnersley_'s House in
|
|
_Arch-street_, Price _Seven Shillings_ and _Six-pence_ for each
|
|
Person to go thro' the Course. The Lectures to begin precisely at 4
|
|
in the Afternoon of each Day, in the same Room Mr. _Dove_ lately used
|
|
for his Course of Natural Philosophy.
|
|
|
|
_Note_, the Experiments succeed best when the Air is dry.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 11, 1751
|
|
|
|
_On Transported Felons_
|
|
|
|
From _Virginia_ we hear, that six Convicts, who were
|
|
transported for fourteen Years, and shipp'd at _Liverpool_, rose at
|
|
Sea, shot the Captain, overcame and confin'd the Seamen, and kept
|
|
Possession of the Vessel 19 Days; that coming in Sight of _Cape
|
|
Hatteras_, they hoisted out the Boat to go on shore; when a Vessel
|
|
passing by, a Boy they had not confin'd, hail'd her, and attempted to
|
|
tell their Condition, but was prevented; and then the Villains drove
|
|
a Spike up thro' his under and upper Jaws, and wound Spunyarn round
|
|
the End that came out near his Nose, to prevent his getting it out:
|
|
They then cut away the Sails from the Yards, left the Ship, and went
|
|
ashore. But a _New-England_ Sloop coming by soon after, and seeing a
|
|
Ship driving in the Sea in that Manner, boarded her, found Things as
|
|
above mentioned, and carried her into _North-Carolina_; from whence a
|
|
Hue and Cry went after the Villains, who had stroll'd along to
|
|
_Virginia_; they were taken at _Norfolk_, and one of them confess'd
|
|
the Fact; upon which they were order'd up, about two Weeks since, to
|
|
_Williamsburgh_, for Trial as Pyrates.
|
|
|
|
From _Maryland_ we hear, that a Convict Servant, about three
|
|
Weeks since, went into his Master's House, with an Ax in his Hand,
|
|
determin'd to kill his Mistress; but changing his Purpose on seeing,
|
|
as he expressed it, _how d ------ d innocent she look'd_, he laid his
|
|
Left-hand on a Block, cut it off, and threw it at her, saying, _Now
|
|
make me work, if you can_.
|
|
|
|
N. B. _'Tis said this desperate Villain is now begging in_
|
|
Pennsylvania, _and 'tis thought has been seen in this City; he
|
|
pretends to have lost his Hand by an Accident: The Publick are
|
|
therefore caution'd to beware of him_.
|
|
|
|
From _Bucks_ County we hear, that a Convict Servant, one _John
|
|
McCaulefd_, imported here last Fall, has broke open and robb'd
|
|
several Houses, of Goods to a considerable Value; but being
|
|
apprehended at a Ferry, is committed to Prison.
|
|
|
|
Yesterday the Trial of _Samuel Saunders_, for the Murder of
|
|
_Simon Girtie_, came on at the Supream Court, when the Jury return'd
|
|
their Verdict _Manslaughter_.
|
|
|
|
"When we see our Papers fill'd continually with Accounts of the
|
|
most audacious Robberies, the most cruel Murders, and infinite other
|
|
Villainies perpetrated by Convicts transported from _Europe_, what
|
|
melancholly, what terrible Reflections must it occasion! What will
|
|
become of our Posterity! -- These are some of thy Favours, BRITAIN!
|
|
Thou art called our MOTHER COUNTRY; but what good _Mother_ ever sent
|
|
_Thieves_ and _Villains_ to accompany her _Children_; to corrupt some
|
|
with their infectious Vices, and murder the rest? What _Father_ ever
|
|
endeavour'd to spread the _Plague_ in his Family! -- We do not ask
|
|
Fish, but thou givest us _Serpents_, and worse than Serpents! -- In
|
|
what can _Britain_ show a more Sovereign Contempt for us, than by
|
|
emptying their _Jails_ into our Settlements; unless they would
|
|
likewise empty their _Jakes_ on our Tables? -- What must we think of
|
|
that B ----- d, which has advis'd the Repeal of every Law we have
|
|
hitherto made to prevent this Deluge of Wickedness overwhelming us;
|
|
and with this _cruel_ Sarcasm, _That these Laws were against the_
|
|
Publick Utility, _for they tended to prevent the_ IMPROVEMENT _and_
|
|
WELL-PEOPLING _of the Colonies!_ -- And what must we think of those
|
|
Merchants, who for the sake of a little paltry Gain, will be
|
|
concern'd in importing and disposing of these abominable Cargoes?"
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, April 11, 1751
|
|
|
|
_Rattle-Snakes for Felons_
|
|
|
|
_To the Printers of the Gazette._
|
|
|
|
By a Passage in one of your late Papers, I understand that
|
|
the Government at home will not suffer our mistaken Assemblies to
|
|
make any Law for preventing or discouraging the Importation of
|
|
Convicts from Great Britain, for this kind Reason, _`That such Laws
|
|
are against the Publick Utility, as they tend to prevent the_
|
|
IMPROVEMENT _and_ WELL PEOPLING of the Colonies.'
|
|
|
|
Such a tender _parental_ Concern in our _Mother Country_ for
|
|
the _Welfare_ of her Children, calls aloud for the highest _Returns_
|
|
of Gratitude and Duty. This every one must be sensible of: But 'tis
|
|
said, that in our present Circumstances it is absolutely impossible
|
|
for us to make _such_ as are adequate to the Favour. I own it; but
|
|
nevertheless let us do our Endeavour. 'Tis something to show a
|
|
grateful Disposition.
|
|
|
|
In some of the uninhabited Parts of these Provinces, there are
|
|
Numbers of these venomous Reptiles we call RATTLE-SNAKES;
|
|
Felons-convict from the Beginning of the World: These, whenever we
|
|
meet with them, we put to Death, by Virtue of an old Law, _Thou shalt
|
|
bruise his Head._ But as this is a sanguinary Law, and may seem too
|
|
cruel; and as however mischievous those Creatures are with us, they
|
|
may possibly change their Natures, if they were to change the
|
|
Climate; I would humbly propose, that this general Sentence of
|
|
_Death_ be changed for _Transportation._
|
|
|
|
|
|
In the Spring of the Year, when they first creep out of their
|
|
Holes, they are feeble, heavy, slow, and easily taken; and if a small
|
|
Bounty were allow'd _per_ Head, some Thousands might be collected
|
|
annually, and _transported_ to Britain. There I would propose to
|
|
have them carefully distributed in _St. James_'s _Park_, in the
|
|
_Spring-Gardens_ and other Places of Pleasure about _London_; in the
|
|
Gardens of all the Nobility and Gentry throughout the Nation; but
|
|
particularly in the Gardens of the _Prime Ministers_, the _Lords of
|
|
Trade_ and _Members of Parliament_; for to them we are _most
|
|
particularly_ obliged.
|
|
|
|
There is no human Scheme so perfect, but some Inconveniencies
|
|
may be objected to it: Yet when the Conveniencies far exceed, the
|
|
Scheme is judg'd rational, and fit to be executed. Thus
|
|
Inconveniencies have been objected to that _good_ and _wise_ Act of
|
|
Parliament, by virtue of which all the _Newgates_ and _Dungeons_ in
|
|
_Britain_ are emptied into the Colonies. It has been said, that
|
|
these Thieves and Villains introduc'd among us, spoil the Morals of
|
|
Youth in the Neighbourhoods that entertain them, and perpetrate many
|
|
horrid Crimes: But let not _private Interests_ obstruct _publick
|
|
Utility._ Our _Mother_ knows what is best for us. What is a little
|
|
_Housebreaking_, _Shoplifting_, or _Highway Robbing_; what is a _Son_
|
|
now and then _corrupted_ and _hang'd_, a Daughter _debauch'd_ and
|
|
_pox'd_, a Wife _stabb'd_, a Husband's _Throat cut_, or a Child's
|
|
_Brains beat out_ with an Axe, compar'd with this `IMPROVEMENT and
|
|
WELL PEOPLING of the Colonies!'
|
|
|
|
Thus it may perhaps be objected to my Scheme, that the
|
|
_Rattle-Snake_ is a mischievous Creature, and that his changing his
|
|
Nature with the Clime is a mere Supposition, not yet confirm'd by
|
|
sufficient Facts. What then? Is not Example more prevalent than
|
|
Precept? And may not the honest rough British Gentry, by a
|
|
Familiarity with these Reptiles, learn to _creep_, and to
|
|
_insinuate_, and to _slaver_, and to _wriggle_ into Place (and
|
|
perhaps to _poison_ such as stand in their Way) Qualities of no small
|
|
Advantage to Courtiers! In comparison of which _Improvement_ and
|
|
_Publick Utility_,' what is a _Child_ now and then kill'd by their
|
|
venomous Bite, -- or even a favourite _Lap-Dog_?
|
|
|
|
I would only add, That this Exporting of Felons to the
|
|
Colonies, may be consider'd as a _Trade_, as well as in the Light of
|
|
a _Favour_. Now all Commerce implies _Returns_: Justice requires
|
|
them: There can be no Trade without them. And _Rattle-Snakes_ seem
|
|
the most _suitable Returns_ for the _Human Serpents_ sent by our
|
|
_Mother_ Country. In this, however, as in every other branch of
|
|
trade, she will have the Advantage of us. She will reap _equal_
|
|
Benefits without equal Risque of the Inconveniencies and Dangers.
|
|
For the _Rattle-Snake_ gives Warning before he attempts his Mischief;
|
|
which the Convict does not. I am
|
|
_Yours, &c._
|
|
AMERICANUS.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette,_ May 9, 1751
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Appeal for the Hospital_
|
|
|
|
_Post obitum benefacta manent, aeternaque Virtus
|
|
Non metuit Stygiis, nec rapiatur Aquis._
|
|
|
|
_I was sick, and ye visited me._ Matth. xxv.
|
|
|
|
Among all the innumerable Species of Animals which inhabit the
|
|
Air, Earth and Water, so exceedingly different in their Production,
|
|
their Properties, and the Manner of their Existence, and so varied in
|
|
Form, that even of the same Kind, it can scarce be said there are two
|
|
Individuals in all Respects alike; it is remarkable, there are none
|
|
within our Observation, distiinguish'd from the rest by this
|
|
Particular, that they are by Nature incapable of_ DISEASES. The old
|
|
Poets, how extravagant soever in their Fictions, durst never offend
|
|
so far against Nature and Probability, as even to feign such a Thing;
|
|
and therefore, tho' they made their _Achilles_ invulnerable from Head
|
|
to Foot, and clad him beside in impenetrable Armour, forg'd by the
|
|
Immortals, they were obliged to leave one soft unguarded Place in his
|
|
Heel, how small soever, for Destruction to enter at. -- But tho'
|
|
every Animal that hath Life is liable to Death, Man, of all other
|
|
Creatures, has the greatest Number of _Diseases_ to his Share;
|
|
whether they are the Effects of our Intemperance and Vice, or are
|
|
given us, that we may have a greater Opportunity of exercising
|
|
towards each other that Virtue, which most of all recommends us to
|
|
the Deity, I mean CHARITY.
|
|
|
|
The great Author of our Faith, whose Life should be the
|
|
constant Object of our Imitation, as far as it is not inimitable,
|
|
always shew'd the greatest Compassion and Regard for the SICK; he
|
|
disdain'd not to visit and minister Comfort and Health to the meanest
|
|
of the People; and he frequently inculcated the same Disposition in
|
|
his Doctrine and Precepts to his Disciples. For this one Thing, (in
|
|
that beautiful Parable of the Traveller wounded by Thieves) the
|
|
_Samaritan_ (who was esteemed no better than a _Heretick_, or an
|
|
_Infidel_ by the _Orthodox_ of those Times) is preferred to the
|
|
_Priest_ and the _Levite_; because he did not, like them, pass by,
|
|
regardless of the Distress of his Brother Mortal; but when he came to
|
|
the Place where the half-dead Traveller lay, _he had Compassion on
|
|
him, and went to him, and bound up his Wounds, pouring in Oil and
|
|
Wine, and set him on his own Beast, and brought him to an Inn, and
|
|
took Care of him._ -- _Dives_, also, the rich Man, is represented as
|
|
being excluded from the Happiness of Heaven, because he fared
|
|
sumptuously every Day, and had Plenty of all Things, and yet
|
|
neglected to comfort and assist his poor Neighbour, who was helpless
|
|
and _full of Sores_, and might perhaps have been revived and restored
|
|
with small Care, _by the Crumbs that fell from his Table_, or, as we
|
|
say, _with his loose Corns. -- I was Sick, and ye Visited me_, is one
|
|
of the Terms of Admission into Bliss, and the Contrary, a Cause of
|
|
Exclusion: That is, as our Saviour himself explains it, _Ye have
|
|
visited, or ye have not visited, assisted and comforted those who
|
|
stood in need of it, even tho' they were the least, or meanest of
|
|
Mankind._ This Branch of _Charity_ seems essential to the true Spirit
|
|
of Christianity; and should be extended to all in general, whether
|
|
Deserving or Undeserving, as far as our Power reaches. Of the ten
|
|
Lepers who were cleansed, _nine_ seem to have been much more unworthy
|
|
than the _tenth_, yet in respect to the Cure of their Disease, they
|
|
equally shared the Goodness of God. And the great Physician in
|
|
sending forth his Disciples, always gave them a particular Charge,
|
|
_that into whatsoever City they entered, they should heal_ ALL _the
|
|
Sick_, without Distinction.
|
|
|
|
When the good _Samaritan_ left his Patient at the Inn, _he gave
|
|
Money to the Host, and said,_ TAKE CARE OF HIM, _and_ _what thou
|
|
spendest more, I will repay thee._ We are in this World mutual Hosts
|
|
to each other; the Circumstances and Fortunes of Men and Families are
|
|
continually changing; in the Course of a few Years we have seen the
|
|
Rich become Poor, and the Poor Rich; the Children of the Wealthy
|
|
languishing in Want and Misery, and those of their Servants lifted
|
|
into Estates, and abounding in the good Things of this Life. Since
|
|
then, our present State, how prosperous soever, hath no Stability,
|
|
but what depends on the good Providence of God, how careful should we
|
|
be not to _harden our Hearts_ against the Distresses of our Fellow
|
|
Creatures, lest He who owns and governs all, should punish our
|
|
Inhumanity, deprive us of a Stewardship in which we have so
|
|
unworthily behaved, _laugh at our Calamity, and mock when our Fear
|
|
cometh._ Methinks when Objects of Charity, and Opportunities of
|
|
relieving them, present themselves, we should hear the Voice of this
|
|
_Samaritan_, as if it were the Voice of God sounding in our Ears,
|
|
TAKE CARE OF THEM, _and whatsoever thou spendest, I will repay thee._
|
|
|
|
But the Good particular Men may do separately, in relieving the
|
|
Sick, is small, compared with what they may do collectively, or by a
|
|
joint Endeavour and Interest. Hence the Erecting of Hospitals or
|
|
Infirmaries by Subscription, for the Reception, Entertainment, and
|
|
Cure of the Sick Poor, has been found by Experience exceedingly
|
|
beneficial, as they turn out annually great Numbers of Patients
|
|
perfectly cured, who might otherwise have been lost to their
|
|
Families, and to Society. Hence Infirmaries spread more and more in
|
|
Europe, new Ones being continually erected in large Cities and
|
|
populous Towns, where generally the most skilful Physicians and
|
|
Surgeons inhabit. And the Subscribers have had the Satisfaction in a
|
|
few Years of seeing the Good they proposed to do, become much more
|
|
extensive than was at first expected; for the Multitude and Variety
|
|
of Cases continually treated in those Infirmaries, not only render
|
|
the Physicians and Surgeons who attend them, still more expert and
|
|
skilful, for the Benefit of others, but afford such speedy and
|
|
effectual Instruction to the young Students of both Professions, who
|
|
come from different and remote Parts of the Country for Improvement,
|
|
that they return with a more ample Stock of Knowledge in their Art,
|
|
and become Blessings to the Neighbourhoods in which they fix their
|
|
Residence.
|
|
|
|
It is therefore a great Pleasure to all the Benevolent and
|
|
Charitable, who have been acquainted with these Things in other
|
|
Countries, to observe, that an Institution of the same Kind has met
|
|
with such Encouragement in _Pensilvania_, and is in such Forwardness,
|
|
that there is reason to expect it may be carried into Execution the
|
|
ensuing Year. May the Father of Mercies grant it his Blessing, and
|
|
Thousands of our unhappy Fellow Creatures, yet unborn, will have
|
|
Cause to bless him, for putting it into the Hearts of the generous
|
|
Contributors, and enabling them thus to provide for their Relief.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, August 8, 1751
|
|
|
|
_Homines ad Deos, nulla re propius accedunt, quam Salutem
|
|
Hominibus dando._ CICER. ORAT.
|
|
|
|
This Motto, taken from a _Pagan_ Author, expresses the general
|
|
Sense of Mankind, even in the earliest Ages, concerning that great
|
|
Duty and extensive Charity, the _administring Comfort and Relief to
|
|
the Sick._ If Men without any other Assistance than the Dictates of
|
|
natural Reason, had so high an Opinion of it, what may be expected
|
|
from Christians, to whom it has been so warmly recommended by the
|
|
best Example of human Conduct. To visit the Sick, to feed the
|
|
Hungry, to clothe the Naked, and comfort the Afflicted, are the
|
|
inseparable Duties of a christian Life.
|
|
|
|
Accordingly 'tis observable, that the Christian Doctrine hath
|
|
had a real Effect on the Conduct of Mankind, which the mere Knowledge
|
|
of Duty without the Sanctions Revelation affords, never produc'd
|
|
among the _Heathens_: For History shows, that from the earliest Times
|
|
of Christianity, in all well-regulated States where Christians
|
|
obtain'd sufficient Influence, publick Funds and private Charities
|
|
have been appropriated to the building of Hospitals, for receiving,
|
|
supporting and curing those unhappy Creatures, whose Poverty is
|
|
aggravated by the additional Load of bodily Pain. But of these Kind
|
|
of Institutions among the _Pagans_, there is no Trace in the History
|
|
of their Times.
|
|
|
|
That good Prince _Edward_ VI. was so affected at the Miseries
|
|
of his poor diseas'd Subjects, represented in a charity Sermon
|
|
preach'd to him on the Occasion, that he soon after laid the
|
|
Foundation of four of the largest Hospitals now in _London_, which
|
|
the Citizens finished, and have ever since maintain'd.
|
|
|
|
In _Hidepark_, at _Bath_, in _Edinburgh_, _Liverpool_,
|
|
_Winchester_, and in the County of _Devon_, and sundry other Places
|
|
in _Great-Britain_, large and commodious Infirmaries have been lately
|
|
erected, from trifling Beginnings of private Charities: And so
|
|
wonderfully does Providence favour these pious Institutions, that
|
|
there is not an Instance of any One's failing for want of necessary
|
|
charitable Contributions. (*)
|
|
|
|
(*) _Extract from the Tour thro'_ Great Britain, Vol. III. Pag.
|
|
293.
|
|
|
|
The Increase of poor diseas'd Foreigners and others, settled in
|
|
the distant Parts of this Province, where regular Advice and
|
|
Assistance cannot be procured, but at an Expence that neither they
|
|
nor their Townships can afford, has awaken'd the Attention of sundry
|
|
humane and well dispos'd Minds, to procure some more certain,
|
|
effectual and easy Methods for their Relief than have hitherto been
|
|
provided, and having represented the Affair to the Assembly, a Law
|
|
was pass'd, without one dissenting Voice, giving _Two Thousand
|
|
Pounds_ for building and furnishing a Provincial Hospital, on
|
|
Condition that _Two Thousand Pounds_ more should be rais'd by private
|
|
Donations, to be put out to Interest as Part of a perpetual Fund for
|
|
supporting it; and the Contributors were made a Body Corporate, with
|
|
all the Powers necessary on the Occasion. Since which, People of all
|
|
Ranks in this City have united zealously and heartily in promoting
|
|
this pious and excellent Design, and more than the Sum stipulated was
|
|
subscribed in a few Days only, and a much larger Sum will probably be
|
|
rais'd here if the Country chearfully contributes to the capital
|
|
Stock, which 'tis not to be doubted they will do, when they consider
|
|
how much they are interested in it.
|
|
|
|
The Difference between nursing and curing the Sick in an
|
|
Hospital, and separately in private Lodgings, with Regard to the
|
|
Expence, is at least as ten to one. For Instance, suppose a Person
|
|
under the Necessity of having a Limb amputated, he must have the
|
|
constant Attendance of a Nurse, a Room, Fire, &c. which cannot for
|
|
the first three or four Weeks be procured at less Expence than
|
|
_Fifteen Shillings_ a Week, and never after at less than _Ten._ If he
|
|
continues two Months his Nursing will be _Five Pounds_, his Surgeons
|
|
Fee, and other accidental Charges, commonly amounts to _Three
|
|
Pounds_, in the whole near _Ten Pounds_; whereas in an Hospital, one
|
|
Nurse, one Fire, &c. will be sufficient for ten Patients, the extra
|
|
Expences will be inconsiderable, and the Surgeon's Fees taken off,
|
|
which will bring the above Calculation within the Limits of Truth.
|
|
|
|
But the Difference with Regard to the unhappy Sufferer is still
|
|
greater. In an Hospital his Case will be treated according to the
|
|
best Rules of Art, by Men of Experience and known Abilities in their
|
|
Profession. His Lodgings will be commodious, clean and neat, in an
|
|
healthy and open Situation, his Diet will be well chosen, and
|
|
properly administred: He will have many other necessary Conveniencies
|
|
for his Relief, such as hot and cold Baths, sweating Rooms, chirurgic
|
|
Machines, Bandage, &c. which can rarely be procured in the best
|
|
private Lodgings, much less in those miserable loathsome Holes, which
|
|
are the common Receptacles of the diseas'd Poor that are brought to
|
|
this City. -- In short a Beggar in a well regulated Hospital, stands
|
|
an equal Chance with a Prince in his Palace, for a comfortable
|
|
Subsistence, and an expeditious and effectual Cure of his Diseases.
|
|
|
|
It is hoped therefore, that whoever will maturely consider the
|
|
inestimable Blessings that are connected to a proper Execution of the
|
|
present Hospital Scheme in this City, can never be so void of
|
|
Humanity and the essential Duties of Religion, as to turn a deaf Ear
|
|
to the numberless Cries of the Poor and Needy, and refuse for their
|
|
Assistance, a little of that Superfluity, which a bountiful
|
|
Providence has so liberally bestowed on them.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, August 15, 1751
|
|
|
|
_In the Year_ 1740, _on the Promotion of Dr._ Gilbert, _Dean of
|
|
this Church, to the Bishoprick of_ Landaff, _his Majesty was pleas'd
|
|
to confer the Deanery on Dr._ Alured Clarke, _who was installed in
|
|
the Month of_ January, _in that Year; and if we may be allowed to
|
|
judge from the pious Acts be began with in that Station, a more
|
|
worthy Man could not have been preferr'd thereto.
|
|
|
|
The House, an antient Building, belonging to that Dignity, had,
|
|
thro' the Remissness of its former Possessors, been too long
|
|
neglected; _wherefore his First Work was to set about altering and
|
|
repairing that, _which he did within Nine Months of his Instalment,
|
|
at an Expence of about_ 800_l_.
|
|
|
|
_Before this was perfected,_ viz. _in the Spring_ 1741, _he
|
|
drew up and published Proposals for founding an Hospital in this
|
|
City, for Lodging, Dieting, and Curing the Sick and Lame Poor
|
|
thereof, and of the County of_ Devon, _on the like Plan of that which
|
|
he had before founded at_ Winchester, _for the Benefit of that City,
|
|
and County of_ Hants. _A Design so good, recommended by the pious
|
|
Eloquence of a Divine so learned and judicious, on Views so visibly
|
|
disinterested, and so clearly abstracted from all Party Schemes or
|
|
Intentions, met with the general Applause and Assistance of the
|
|
Gentry and Clergy of all Parties, Sects and Denominations; who,
|
|
however different in Religion and Politicks, unanimously join'd in
|
|
this pious Undertaking: And a Subscription being opened in_ March,
|
|
_hath already_ (November 1741) _brought in about_ 2000 _l. of which
|
|
near_ 1500 _l. are annual Engagements, which, 'tis highly probable,
|
|
will be not only continued, but much augmented, so that 'tis hoped,
|
|
that_ 200 _Patients at a Time may be provided for._ John Tuckfield,
|
|
_of_ Raddon, _Esq; was pleased to accommodate the Governors with a
|
|
Plot of Ground near_ Southernhay, _without the City-walls, at a very
|
|
moderate Price, and to give_ 100 _l. towards carrying on the Building
|
|
for the intended Hospital, the Plan of which was commodiously
|
|
designed by the Direction of the Dean, and the first Stone thereof
|
|
laid by him, assisted by the Bishop of_ Exon, _Sir_ William
|
|
Courtenay, _Knight of the Shire, Sir_ Henry Northcote _and_ Humphry
|
|
Sydenham_, Esquires, the Citizens in Parliament, the Honourable_
|
|
Henry Rolle, _and_ John Tuckfield _Esq; attended by a great Number of
|
|
Clergy and Gentry, that are Subscribers, and Thousands of joyful
|
|
Spectators, on the_ 27_th of_ August 1741. _The Building contains
|
|
upwards of_ 300 _Feet in Length, and is already in a good
|
|
Forwardness.
|
|
|
|
_Observations Concerning the Increase of Mankind, Peopling of
|
|
Countries, &c._
|
|
|
|
1. Tables of the Proportion of Marriages to Births, of Deaths
|
|
to Births, of Marriages to the Numbers of Inhabitants, &c. form'd on
|
|
Observations made upon the Bills of Mortality, Christnings, &c. of
|
|
populous Cities, will not suit Countries; nor will Tables form'd on
|
|
Observations made on full settled old Countries, as _Europe_, suit
|
|
new Countries, as _America_.
|
|
|
|
2. For People increase in Proportion to the Number of
|
|
Marriages, and that is greater in Proportion to the Ease and
|
|
Convenience of supporting a Family. When Families can be easily
|
|
supported, more Persons marry, and earlier in Life.
|
|
|
|
3. In Cities, where all Trades, Occupations and Offices
|
|
arefull, many delay marrying, till they can see how to bear
|
|
theCharges of a Family; which Charges are greater in Cities, asLuxury
|
|
is more common: many live single during Life, and continue Servants
|
|
to Families, Journeymen to Trades, &c. hence Cities do not by natural
|
|
Generation supply themselves with Inhabitants; the Deaths are more
|
|
than the Births.
|
|
|
|
4. In Countries full settled, the Case must be nearly the same;
|
|
all Lands being occupied and improved to the Heighth; those who
|
|
cannot get Land, must Labour for others that have it; when Labourers
|
|
are plenty, their Wages will be low; by low Wages a Family is
|
|
supported with Difficulty; this Difficulty deters many from Marriage,
|
|
who therefore long continue Servants and single. -- Only as the
|
|
Cities take Supplies of People from the Country, and thereby make a
|
|
little more Room in the Country; Marriage is a little more incourag'd
|
|
there, and the Births exceed the Deaths.
|
|
|
|
5. _Europe_ is generally full settled with Husbandmen,
|
|
Manufacturers, &c. and therefore cannot now much increase in People:
|
|
_America_ is chiefly occupied by Indians, who subsist mostly by
|
|
Hunting. -- But as the Hunter, of all Men, requires the greatest
|
|
Quantity of Land from whence to draw his Subsistence, (the Husbandman
|
|
subsisting on much less, the Gardner on still less, and the
|
|
Manufacturer requiring least of all), The _Europeans_ found _America_
|
|
as fully settled as it well could be by Hunters; yet these having
|
|
large Tracks, were easily prevail'd on to part with Portions of
|
|
Territory to the new Comers, who did not much interfere with the
|
|
Natives in Hunting, and furnish'd them with many Things they wanted.
|
|
|
|
6. Land being thus plenty in _America_, and so cheap as that a
|
|
labouring Man, that understands Husbandry, can in a short Time save
|
|
Money enough to purchase a Piece of new Land sufficient for a
|
|
Plantation, whereon he may subsist a Family; such are not afraid to
|
|
marry; for if they even look far enough forward to consider how their
|
|
Children when grown up are to be provided for, they see that more
|
|
Land is to be had at Rates equally easy, all Circumstances
|
|
considered.
|
|
|
|
7. Hence Marriages in _America_ are more general, and more
|
|
generally early, than in _Europe_. And if it is reckoned there, that
|
|
there is but one Marriage per Annum among 100 Persons, perhaps we may
|
|
here reckon two; and if in _Europe_ they have but 4 Births to a
|
|
Marriage (many of their Marriages being late) we may here reckon 8,
|
|
of which if one half grow up, and our Marriages are made, reckoning
|
|
one with another at _20_ Years of Age, our People must at least be
|
|
doubled every 20 Years.
|
|
|
|
8. But notwithstanding this Increase, so vast is the Territory
|
|
of _North-America_, that it will require many Ages to settle it
|
|
fully; and till it is fully settled, Labour will never be cheap here,
|
|
where no Man continues long a Labourer for others, but gets a
|
|
Plantation of his own, no Man continues long a Journeyman to a Trade,
|
|
but goes among those new Settlers, and sets up for himself, &c.
|
|
Hence Labour is no cheaper now, in _Pennsylvania_, than it was 30
|
|
Years ago, tho' so many Thousand labouring People have been imported.
|
|
|
|
9. The Danger therefore of these Colonies interfering with
|
|
their Mother Country in Trades that depend on Labour, Manufactures,
|
|
&c. is too remote to require the Attention of _Great-Britain_.
|
|
|
|
10. But in Proportion to the Increase of the Colonies, a vast
|
|
Demand is growing for British Manufactures, a glorious Market wholly
|
|
in the Power of _Britain_, in which Foreigners cannot interfere,
|
|
which will increase in a short Time even beyond her Power of
|
|
supplying, tho' her whole Trade should be to her Colonies: Therefore
|
|
_Britain_ should not too much restrain Manufactures in her Colonies.
|
|
A wise and good Mother will not do it. To distress, is to weaken,
|
|
and weakening the Children, weakens the whole Family.
|
|
|
|
11. Besides if the Manufactures of _Britain_ (by Reason of the
|
|
_American_ Demands) should rise too high in Price, Foreigners who can
|
|
sell cheaper will drive her Merchants out of Foreign Markets; Foreign
|
|
Manufactures will thereby be encouraged and increased, and
|
|
consequently foreign Nations, perhaps her Rivals in Power, grow more
|
|
populous and more powerful; while her own Colonies, kept too low, are
|
|
unable to assist her, or add to her Strength.
|
|
|
|
12. 'Tis an ill-grounded Opinion that by the Labour of Slaves,
|
|
_America_ may possibly vie in Cheapness of Manufactures with
|
|
_Britain_. The Labour of Slaves can never be so cheap here as the
|
|
Labour of working Men is in _Britain_. Any one may compute it.
|
|
Interest of Money is in the Colonies from 6 to 10 per Cent. Slaves
|
|
one with another cost 30 pounds Sterling per Head. Reckon then the
|
|
Interest of the first Purchase of a Slave, the Insurance or Risque on
|
|
his Life, his Cloathing and Diet, Expences in his Sickness and Loss
|
|
of Time, Loss by his Neglect of Business (Neglect is natural to the
|
|
Man who is not to be benefited by his own Care or Diligence), Expence
|
|
of a Driver to keep him at Work, and his Pilfering from Time to Time,
|
|
almost every Slave being _by Nature_ a Thief, and compare the whole
|
|
Amount with the Wages of a Manufacturer of Iron or Wool in _England_,
|
|
you will see that Labour is much cheaper there than it ever can be by
|
|
Negroes here. Why then will _Americans_ purchase Slaves? Because
|
|
Slaves may be kept as long as a Man pleases, or has Occasion for
|
|
their Labour; while hired Men are continually leaving their Master
|
|
(often in the midst of his Business,) and setting up for themselves.
|
|
(Symbol omitted). 8.
|
|
|
|
13. As the Increase of People depends on the Encouragement of
|
|
Marriages, the following Things must diminish a Nation, _viz._ 1. The
|
|
being conquered; for the Conquerors will engross as many Offices, and
|
|
exact as much Tribute or Profit on the Labour of the conquered, as
|
|
will maintain them in their new Establishment, and this diminishing
|
|
the Subsistence of the Natives discourages their Marriages, & so
|
|
gradually diminishes them, while the Foreigners increase. 2. Loss of
|
|
Territory. Thus the _Britons_ being driven into _Wales_, and crowded
|
|
together in a barren Country insufficient to support such great
|
|
Numbers, diminished 'till the People bore a Proportion to the
|
|
Produce, while the _Saxons_ increas'd on their abandoned Lands; 'till
|
|
the Island became full of _English_. And were the _English_ now
|
|
driven into _Wales_ by some foreign Nation, there would in a few
|
|
Years be no more Englishmen in _Britain_, than there are now People
|
|
in _Wales_. 3. Loss of Trade. Manufactures exported, draw
|
|
Subsistence from Foreign Countries for Numbers; who are thereby
|
|
enabled to marry and raise Families. If the Nation be deprived of
|
|
any Branch of Trade, and no new Employment is found for the People
|
|
occupy'd in that Branch, it will also be soon deprived of so many
|
|
People. 4. Loss of Food. Suppose a Nation has a Fishery, which not
|
|
only employs great Numbers, but makes the Food and Subsistence of the
|
|
People cheaper: If another Nation becomes Master of the Seas, and
|
|
prevents the Fishery, the People will diminish in Proportion as the
|
|
Loss of Employ, and Dearness of Provision, makes it more difficult to
|
|
subsist a Family. 5. Bad Government and insecure Property. People
|
|
not only leave such a Country, and settling Abroad incorporate with
|
|
other Nations, lose their native Language, and become Foreigners; but
|
|
the Industry of those that remain being discourag'd, the Quantity of
|
|
Subsistence in the Country is lessen'd, and the Support of a Family
|
|
becomes more difficult. So heavy Taxes tend to diminish a People.
|
|
6. The Introduction of Slaves. The Negroes brought into the
|
|
_English_ Sugar _Islands_, have greatly diminish'd the Whites there;
|
|
the Poor are by this Means depriv'd of Employment, while a few
|
|
Families acquire vast Estates; which they spend on Foreign Luxuries,
|
|
and educating their Children in the Habit of those Luxuries; the same
|
|
Income is needed for the Support of one that might have maintain'd
|
|
100. The Whites who have Slaves, not labouring, are enfeebled, and
|
|
therefore not so generally prolific; the Slaves being work'd too
|
|
hard, and ill fed, their Constitutions are broken, and the Deaths
|
|
among them are more than the Births; so that a continual Supply is
|
|
needed from _Africa_. The Northern Colonies having few Slaves
|
|
increase in Whites. Slaves also pejorate the Families that use them;
|
|
the white Children become proud, disgusted with Labour, and being
|
|
educated in Idleness, are rendered unfit to get a Living by Industry.
|
|
|
|
14. Hence the Prince that acquires new Territory, if he finds
|
|
it vacant, or removes the Natives to give his own People Room; the
|
|
Legislator that makes effectual Laws for promoting of Trade,
|
|
increasing Employment, improving Land by more or better Tillage;
|
|
providing more Food by Fisheries; securing Property, &c. and the Man
|
|
that invents new Trades, Arts or Manufactures, or new Improvements in
|
|
Husbandry, may be properly called _Fathers_ of their Nation, as they
|
|
are the Cause of the Generation of Multitudes, by the Encouragement
|
|
they afford to Marriage.
|
|
|
|
15. As to Privileges granted to the married, (such as the _Jus
|
|
trium Liberorum_ among the _Romans_), they may hasten the filling of
|
|
a Country that has been thinned by War or Pestilence, or that has
|
|
otherwise vacant Territory; but cannot increase a People beyond the
|
|
Means provided for their Subsistence.
|
|
|
|
16. Foreign Luxuries & needless Manufactures imported and used
|
|
in a Nation, do, by the same Reasoning, increase the People of the
|
|
Nation that furnishes them, and diminish the People of the Nation
|
|
that uses them. -- Laws therefore that prevent such Importations, and
|
|
on the contrary promote the Exportation of Manufactures to be
|
|
consumed in Foreign Countries, may be called (with Respect to the
|
|
People that make them) _generative Laws_, as by increasing
|
|
Subsistence they encourage Marriage. Such Laws likewise strengthen a
|
|
Country, doubly, by increasing its own People and diminishing its
|
|
Neighbours.
|
|
|
|
17. Some _European_ Nations prudently refuse to consume the
|
|
Manufactures of _East-India_: -- They should likewise forbid them to
|
|
their Colonies; for the Gain to the Merchant, is not to be compar'd
|
|
with the Loss by this Means of People to the Nation.
|
|
|
|
18. Home Luxury in the Great, increases the Nation's
|
|
Manufacturers employ'd by it, who are many, and only tends to
|
|
diminish the Families that indulge in it, who are few. The greater
|
|
the common fashionable Expence of any Rank of People, the more
|
|
cautious they are of Marriage. Therefore Luxury should never be
|
|
suffer'd to become common.
|
|
|
|
19. The great Increase of Offspring in particular Families, is
|
|
not always owing to greater Fecundity of Nature, but sometimes to
|
|
Examples of Industry in the Heads, and industrious Education; by
|
|
which the Children are enabled to provide better for themselves, and
|
|
their marrying early, is encouraged from the Prospect of good
|
|
Subsistence.
|
|
|
|
20. If there be a Sect therefore, in our Nation, that regard
|
|
Frugality and Industry as religious Duties, and educate their
|
|
Children therein, more than others commonly do; such Sect must
|
|
consequently increase more by natural Generation, than any other Sect
|
|
in _Britain_. --
|
|
|
|
21. The Importation of Foreigners into a Country that has as
|
|
many Inhabitants as the present Employments and Provisions for
|
|
Subsistence will bear; will be in the End no Increase of People;
|
|
unless the New Comers have more Industry and Frugality than the
|
|
Natives, and then they will provide more Subsistence, and increase in
|
|
the Country; but they will gradually eat the Natives out. -- Nor is
|
|
it necessary to bring in Foreigners to fill up any occasional Vacancy
|
|
in a Country; for such Vacancy (if the Laws are good, (Symbol
|
|
omitted) 14,16) will soon be filled by natural Generation. Who can
|
|
now find the Vacancy made in _Sweden_, _France_ or other Warlike
|
|
Nations, by the Plague of Heroism 40 Years ago; in _France_, by the
|
|
Expulsion of the Protestants; in _England_, by the Settlement of her
|
|
Colonies; or in _Guinea_, by 100 Years Exportation of Slaves, that
|
|
has blacken'd half _America_? -- The thinness of Inhabitants in
|
|
_Spain_, is owing to National Pride and Idleness, and other Causes,
|
|
rather than to the Expulsion of the _Moors_, or to the making of new
|
|
Settlements.
|
|
|
|
22. There is in short, no Bound to the prolific Nature of
|
|
Plants or Animals, but what is made by their crowding and interfering
|
|
with each others Means of Subsistence. Was the Face of the Earth
|
|
vacant of other Plants, it might be gradually sowed and overspread
|
|
with one Kind only; as, for Instance, with Fennel; and were it empty
|
|
of other Inhabitants, it might in a few Ages be replenish'd from one
|
|
Nation only; as, for Instance, with _Englishmen_. Thus there are
|
|
suppos'd to be now upwards of One Million _English_ Souls in
|
|
_North-America_, (tho' 'tis thought scarce 80,000 have been brought
|
|
over Sea) and yet perhaps there is not one the fewer in _Britain_,
|
|
but rather many more, on Account of the Employment the Colonies
|
|
afford to Manufacturers at Home. This Million doubling, suppose but
|
|
once in 25 Years, will in another Century be more than the People of
|
|
_England_, and the greatest Number of _Englishmen_ will be on this
|
|
Side the Water. What an Accession of Power to the _British_ Empire
|
|
by Sea as well as Land! What Increase of Trade and Navigation! What
|
|
Numbers of Ships and Seamen! We have been here but little more than
|
|
100 Years, and yet the Force of our Privateers in the late War,
|
|
united, was greater, both in Men and Guns, than that of the whole
|
|
_British_ Navy in Queen _Elizabeth_'s Time. -- How important an
|
|
Affair then to _Britain_, is the present Treaty for settling the
|
|
Bounds between her Colonies and the _French_, and how careful should
|
|
she be to secure Room enough, since on the Room depends so much the
|
|
Increase of her People?
|
|
|
|
23. In fine, A Nation well regulated is like a Polypus; take
|
|
away a Limb, its Place is soon supply'd; cut it in two, and each
|
|
deficient Part shall speedily grow out of the Part remaining. Thus
|
|
if you have Room and Subsistence enough, as you may by dividing, make
|
|
ten Polypes out of one, you may of one make ten Nations, equally
|
|
populous and powerful; or rather, increase a Nation ten fold in
|
|
Numbers and Strength.
|
|
|
|
And since Detachments of _English_ from _Britain_ sent to
|
|
_America_, will have their Places at Home so soon supply'd and
|
|
increase so largely here; why should the _Palatine Boors_ be suffered
|
|
to swarm into our Settlements, and by herding together establish
|
|
their Language and Manners to the Exclusion of ours? Why should
|
|
_Pennsylvania_, founded by the _English_, become a Colony of
|
|
_Aliens_, who will shortly be so numerous as to Germanize us instead
|
|
of our Anglifying them, and will never adopt our Language or Customs,
|
|
any more than they can acquire our Complexion.
|
|
|
|
24. Which leads me to add one Remark: That the Number of purely
|
|
white People in the World is proportionably very small. All _Africa_
|
|
is black or tawny. _Asia_ chiefly tawny. _America_ (exclusive of
|
|
the new Comers) wholly so. And in _Europe_, the _Spaniards_,
|
|
_Italians_, _French_, _Russians_ and _Swedes_, are generally of what
|
|
we call a swarthy Complexion; as are the _Germans_ also, the _Saxons_
|
|
only excepted, who with the _English_, make the principal Body of
|
|
White People on the Face of the Earth. I could wish their Numbers
|
|
were increased. And while we are, as I may call it, _Scouring_ our
|
|
Planet, by clearing _America_ of Woods, and so making this Side of
|
|
our Globe reflect a brighter Light to the Eyes of Inhabitants in
|
|
_Mars_ or _Venus_, why should we in the Sight of Superior Beings,
|
|
darken its People? why increase the Sons of _Africa_, by Planting
|
|
them in _America_, where we have so fair an Opportunity, by excluding
|
|
all Blacks and Tawneys, of increasing the lovely White and Red? But
|
|
perhaps I am partial to the Complexion of my Country, for such Kind
|
|
of Partiality is natural to Mankind.
|
|
|
|
1751
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Kite Experiment_
|
|
|
|
As frequent Mention is made in the News Papers from _Europe_,
|
|
of the Success of the _Philadelphia_ Experiment for drawing the
|
|
Electric Fire from Clouds by Means of pointed Rods of Iron erected on
|
|
high Buildings, _&c._ it may be agreeable to the Curious to be
|
|
inform'd, that the same Experiment has succeeded in _Philadelphia_,
|
|
tho' made in a different and more easy Manner, which any one may try,
|
|
as follows.
|
|
|
|
Make a small Cross of two light Strips of Cedar, the Arms so
|
|
long as to reach to the four Corners of a large thin Silk
|
|
Handkerchief when extended; tie the Corners of the Handkerchief to
|
|
the Extremities of the Cross, so you have the Body of a Kite; which
|
|
being properly accommodated with a Tail, Loop and String, will rise
|
|
in the Air, like those made of Paper; but this being of Silk is
|
|
fitter to bear the Wet and Wind of a Thunder Gust without tearing.
|
|
To the Top of the upright Stick of the Cross is to be fixed a very
|
|
sharp pointed Wire, rising a Foot or more above the Wood. To the End
|
|
of the Twine, next the Hand, is to be tied a silk Ribbon, and where
|
|
the Twine and the silk join, a Key may be fastened. This Kite is to
|
|
be raised when a Thunder Gust appears to be coming on, and the Person
|
|
who holds the String must stand within a Door, or Window, or under
|
|
some Cover, so that the Silk Ribbon may not be wet; and Care must be
|
|
taken that the Twine does not touch the Frame of the Door or Window.
|
|
As soon as any of the Thunder Clouds come over the Kite, the pointed
|
|
Wire will draw the Electric Fire from them, and the Kite, with all
|
|
the Twine, will be electrified, and the loose Filaments of the Twine
|
|
will stand out every Way, and be attracted by an approaching Finger.
|
|
And when the Rain has wet the Kite and Twine, so that it can conduct
|
|
the Electric Fire freely, you will find it stream out plentifully
|
|
from the Key on the Approach of your Knuckle. At this Key the Phial
|
|
may be charg'd; and from Electric Fire thus obtain'd, Spirits may be
|
|
kindled, and all the other Electric Experiments be perform'd, which
|
|
are usually done by the Help of a rubbed Glass Globe or Tube; and
|
|
thereby the _Sameness_ of the Electric Matter with that of Lightning
|
|
compleatly demonstrated.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, October 19, 1752
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Join or Die_
|
|
|
|
Friday last an Express arrived here from Major Washington, with
|
|
Advice, that Mr. Ward, Ensign of Capt. Trent's Company, was compelled to
|
|
surrender his small Fort in the Forks of Monongahela to the French, on the
|
|
17th past; who fell down from Venango with a Fleet of 360 Battoes and Canoes,
|
|
upwards of 1000 Men, and 18 Pieces of Artillery, which they planted against
|
|
the Fort; and Mr. Ward having but 44 Men, and no Cannon to make a proper
|
|
Defence, was obliged to surrender on Summons, capitulating to march out with
|
|
their Arms, &c. and they had accordingly joined Major Washington, who was
|
|
advanced with three Companies of the Virginia Forces, as far as the New Store
|
|
near the Allegheny Mountains, where the Men were employed in clearing a Road
|
|
for the Cannon, which were every Day expected with Col. Fry, and the
|
|
Remainder of the Regiment. -- We hear farther, that some few of the English
|
|
Traders on the Ohio escaped, but 'tis supposed the greatest Part are taken,
|
|
with all their Goods, and Skins, to the Amount of near 20,000 pounds. The
|
|
Indian Chiefs, however, have dispatch'd Messages to Pennsylvania, and
|
|
Virginia, desiring that the English would not be discouraged, but send out
|
|
their Warriors to join them, and drive the French out of the Country before
|
|
they fortify; otherwise the Trade will be lost, and, to their great Grief, an
|
|
eternal Separation made between the Indians and their Brethren the English.
|
|
'Tis farther said, that besides the French that came down from Venango,
|
|
another Body of near 400, is coming up the Ohio; and that 600 French Indians,
|
|
of the Chippaways and Ottaways, are coming down Siota River, from the Lake,
|
|
to join them; and many more French are expected from Canada; the Design being
|
|
to establish themselves, settle their Indians, and build Forts just on the
|
|
Back of our Settlements in all our Colonies; from which Forts, as they did
|
|
from Crown-Point, they may send out their Parties to kill and scalp the
|
|
Inhabitants, and ruin the Frontier Counties. Accordingly we hear, that the
|
|
Back Settlers in Virginia, are so terrify'd by the Murdering and Scalping of
|
|
the Family last Winter, and the Taking of this Fort, that they begin already
|
|
to abandon their Plantations, and remove to Places of more Safety. -- The
|
|
Confidence of the French in this Undertaking seems well-grounded on the
|
|
present disunited State of the British Colonies, and the extreme Difficulty
|
|
of bringing so many different Governments and Assemblies to agree in any
|
|
speedy and effectual Measures for our common Defence and Security; while our
|
|
Enemies have the very great Advantage of being under one Direction, with one
|
|
Council, and one Purse. Hence, and from the great Distance of Britain, they
|
|
presume that they may with Impunity violate the most solemn Treaties
|
|
subsisting between the two Crowns, kill, seize and imprison our Traders, and
|
|
confiscate their Effects at Pleasure (as they have done for several Years
|
|
past) murder and scalp our Farmers, with their Wives and Children, and take
|
|
an easy Possession of such Parts of the British Territory as they find most
|
|
convenient for them; which if they are permitted to do, must end in the
|
|
Destruction of the British Interest, Trade and Plantations in America.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, May 9, 1754
|
|
|
|
|
|
_The Albany Plan of Union_
|
|
|
|
Plan of a Proposed Union of the Several Colonies of
|
|
Masachusets-bay, New Hampshire, Coneticut, Rhode Island, New York,
|
|
New Jerseys, Pensilvania, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and
|
|
South Carolina, For their Mutual Defence and Security, and for
|
|
Extending the British Settlements in North America.
|
|
|
|
That humble Application be made for an Act of the Parliament of
|
|
Great Britain, by Virtue of which, one General Government may be
|
|
formed in America, including all the said Colonies, within and under
|
|
which Government, each Colony may retain its present Constitution,
|
|
except in the Particulars wherein a Change may be directed by the
|
|
said Act, as hereafter follows.
|
|
|
|
President General
|
|
Grand Council.
|
|
That the said General Government be administred by a President
|
|
General, To be appointed and Supported by the Crown, and a Grand
|
|
Council to be Chosen by the Representatives of the People of the
|
|
Several Colonies, met in their respective Assemblies.
|
|
|
|
Election of Members.
|
|
That within Months after the passing of such Act, The House of
|
|
Representatives in the Several Assemblies, that Happen to be Sitting
|
|
within that time or that shall be Specially for that purpose
|
|
Convened, may and Shall Choose Members for the Grand Council in the
|
|
following Proportions, that is to say.
|
|
Masachusets-Bay . . . . . 7.
|
|
New Hampshire . . . . . . 2.
|
|
Conecticut . . . . . . . 5.
|
|
Rhode-Island . . . . . . 2.
|
|
New-York . . . . . . . . 4.
|
|
New-Jerseys . . . . . . . 3.
|
|
Pensilvania . . . . . . . 6.
|
|
Maryland . . . . . . . . 4.
|
|
Virginia . . . . . . . . 7.
|
|
North-Carolina . . . . . 4.
|
|
South-Carolina . . . . . 4
|
|
____
|
|
48
|
|
|
|
Place of first meeting.
|
|
Who shall meet for the first time at the City of Philadelphia,
|
|
in Pensilvania, being called by the President General as soon as
|
|
conveniently may be, after his Appointment.
|
|
|
|
New Election.
|
|
That there shall be a New Election of Members for the Grand
|
|
Council every three years; And on the Death or Resignation of any
|
|
Member his Place shall be Supplyed by a New Choice at the next
|
|
Sitting of the Assembly of the Colony he represented.
|
|
|
|
Proportion of Members after first 3 years.
|
|
That after the first three years, when the Proportion of Money
|
|
arising out of each Colony to the General Treasury can be known, The
|
|
Number of Members to be Chosen, for each Colony shall from time to
|
|
time in all ensuing Elections be regulated by that proportion (yet so
|
|
as that the Number to be Chosen by any one Province be not more than
|
|
Seven nor less than Two).
|
|
|
|
Meetings of Grand Council.
|
|
Call.
|
|
That the Grand Council shall meet once in every Year, and
|
|
oftner if Occasion require, at such Time and place as they shall
|
|
adjourn to at the last preceeding meeting, or as they shall be called
|
|
to meet at by the President General, on any Emergency, he having
|
|
first obtained in Writing the Consent of seven of the Members to such
|
|
call, and sent due and timely Notice to the whole.
|
|
|
|
Speaker.
|
|
Continuance.
|
|
That the Grand Council have Power to Chuse their Speaker, and
|
|
shall neither be Dissolved, prorogued nor Continue Sitting longer
|
|
than Six Weeks at one Time without their own Consent, or the Special
|
|
Command of the Crown.
|
|
|
|
Member's Allowance
|
|
That the Members of the Grand Council shall be Allowed for
|
|
their Service ten shillings Sterling per Diem, during their Sessions
|
|
or Journey to and from the Place of Meeting; Twenty miles to be
|
|
reckoned a days Journey.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Assent of President General.
|
|
His Duty.
|
|
That the Assent of the President General be requisite, to all
|
|
Acts of the Grand Council, and that it be His Office, and Duty to
|
|
cause them to be carried into Execution.
|
|
|
|
Power of President and Grand Council.
|
|
Peace and War.
|
|
Indian Purchases.
|
|
New Settlements.
|
|
Laws to Govern them.
|
|
That the President General with the Advice of the Grand
|
|
Council, hold or Direct all Indian Treaties in which the General
|
|
Interest or Welfare of the Colony's may be Concerned; And make Peace
|
|
or Declare War with the Indian Nations. That they make such Laws as
|
|
they Judge Necessary for regulating all Indian Trade. That they make
|
|
all Purchases from Indians for the Crown, of Lands not within the
|
|
Bounds of Particular Colonies, or that shall not be within their
|
|
Bounds when some of them are reduced to more Convenient Dimensions.
|
|
That they make New Settlements on such Purchases, by Granting Lands
|
|
in the Kings Name, reserving a Quit Rent to the Crown, for the use of
|
|
the General Treasury. That they make Laws for regulating and
|
|
Governing such new Settlements, till the Crown shall think fit to
|
|
form them into Particular Governments.
|
|
|
|
Raise Soldiers &c.
|
|
Lakes.
|
|
Not to Impress
|
|
Power to make Laws Duties &c.
|
|
That they raise and pay Soldiers, and build Forts for the
|
|
Defence of any of the Colonies, and equip Vessels of Force to Guard
|
|
the Coasts and Protect the Trade on the Ocean, Lakes, or Great
|
|
Rivers; But they shall not Impress Men in any Colonies, without the
|
|
Consent of its Legislature. That for these purposes they have Power
|
|
to make Laws And lay and Levy such General Duties, Imposts, or Taxes,
|
|
as to them shall appear most equal and Just, Considering the Ability
|
|
and other Circumstances of the Inhabitants in the Several Colonies,
|
|
and such as may be Collected with the least Inconvenience to the
|
|
People, rather discouraging Luxury, than
|
|
|
|
|
|
Treasurer.
|
|
Money how to Issue.
|
|
Loading Industry with unnecessary Burthens.
|
|
That they may Appoint a General Treasurer and a Particular
|
|
Treasurer in each Government, when Necessary, And from Time to Time
|
|
may Order the Sums in the Treasuries of each Government, into the
|
|
General Treasury, or draw on them for Special payments as they find
|
|
most Convenient; Yet no money to Issue, but by joint Orders of the
|
|
President General and Grand Council Except where Sums have been
|
|
Appropriated to particular Purposes, And the President General is
|
|
previously impowered By an Act to draw for such Sums.
|
|
|
|
Accounts.
|
|
That the General Accounts shall be yearly Settled and Reported
|
|
to the Several Assembly's.
|
|
|
|
Quorum.
|
|
Laws to be Transmitted.
|
|
That a Quorum of the Grand Council impower'd to Act with the
|
|
President General, do consist of Twenty-five Members, among whom
|
|
there shall be one, or more from a Majority of the Colonies. That
|
|
the Laws made by them for the Purposes aforesaid, shall not be
|
|
repugnant but as near as may be agreeable to the Laws of England, and
|
|
Shall be transmitted to the King in Council for Approbation, as Soon
|
|
as may be after their Passing and if not disapproved within Three
|
|
years after Presentation to remain in Force.
|
|
|
|
Death of President General.
|
|
That in case of the Death of the President General The Speaker
|
|
of the Grand Council for the Time Being shall Succeed, and be Vested
|
|
with the Same Powers, and Authority, to Continue until the King's
|
|
Pleasure be known.
|
|
|
|
Officers how Appointed.
|
|
That all Military Commission Officers Whether for Land or Sea
|
|
Service, to Act under this General Constitution, shall be Nominated
|
|
by the President General But the Approbation of the Grand Council, is
|
|
to be
|
|
|
|
|
|
Vacancies how Supplied.
|
|
Each Colony may defend itself on Emergency.
|
|
Obtained before they receive their Commissions, And all Civil
|
|
Officers are to be Nominated, by the Grand Council, and to receive
|
|
the President General's Approbation, before they Officiate; But in
|
|
Case of Vacancy by Death or removal of any Officer Civil or Military
|
|
under this Constitution, The Governor of the Province, in which such
|
|
Vacancy happens, may Appoint till the Pleasure of the President
|
|
General and Grand Council can be known. That the Particular Military
|
|
as well as Civil Establishments in each Colony remain in their
|
|
present State, this General Constitution Notwithstanding. And that
|
|
on Sudden Emergencies any Colony may Defend itself, and lay the
|
|
Accounts of Expence thence Arisen, before the President General and
|
|
Grand Council, who may allow and order payment of the same As far as
|
|
they Judge such Accounts Just and reasonable.
|
|
|
|
July 10, 1754
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Reasons and Motives for the Albany Plan of Union_
|
|
|
|
I. _Reasons and Motives on which the Plan of Union was formed._
|
|
|
|
The Commissioners from a number of the northern colonies being
|
|
met at _Albany_, and considering the difficulties that have always
|
|
attended the most necessary general measures for the common defence,
|
|
or for the annoyance of the enemy, when they were to be carried
|
|
through the several particular assemblies of all the colonies; some
|
|
assemblies being before at variance with their governors or councils,
|
|
and the several branches of the government not on terms of doing
|
|
business with each other; others taking the opportunity, when their
|
|
concurrence is wanted, to push for favourite laws, powers, or points
|
|
that they think could not at other times be obtained, and so
|
|
_creating_ disputes and quarrels; one assembly waiting to see what
|
|
another will do, being afraid of doing more than its share, or
|
|
desirous of doing less; or refusing to do any thing, because its
|
|
country is not at present so much exposed as others, or because
|
|
another will reap more immediate advantage; from one or other of
|
|
which causes, the assemblies of six (out of seven) colonies applied
|
|
to, had granted no assistance to _Virginia_, when lately invaded by
|
|
the _French_, though purposely convened, and the importance of the
|
|
occasion earnestly urged upon them: Considering moreover, that one
|
|
principal encouragement to the French, in invading and insulting the
|
|
British American dominions, was their knowledge of our disunited
|
|
state, and of our weakness arising from such want of union; and that
|
|
from hence different colonies were, at different times, extremely
|
|
harassed, and put to great expence both of blood and treasure, who
|
|
would have remained in peace, if the enemy had had cause to fear the
|
|
drawing on themselves the resentment and power of the whole; the said
|
|
Commissioners, considering also the present incroachments of the
|
|
French, and the mischievous consequences that may be expected from
|
|
them, if not opposed with our force, came to an unanimous resolution,
|
|
-- _That an union of the colonies is absolutely necessary for their
|
|
preservation._
|
|
|
|
The _manner_ of forming and establishing this union was the
|
|
next point. When it was considered that the colonies were seldom all
|
|
in equal danger at the same time, or equally near the danger, or
|
|
equally sensible of it; that some of them had particular interests to
|
|
manage, with which an union might interfere; and that they were
|
|
extremely jealous of each other; -- it was thought impracticable to
|
|
obtain a joint agreement of all the colonies to an union, in which
|
|
the expence and burthen of defending any of them should be divided
|
|
among them all; and if ever acts of assembly in all the colonies
|
|
could be obtained for that purpose, yet as any colony, on the least
|
|
dissatisfaction, might repeal its own act and thereby withdraw itself
|
|
from the union, it would not be a stable one, or such as could be
|
|
depended on: for if only one colony should, on any disgust withdraw
|
|
itself, others might think it unjust and unequal that they, by
|
|
continuing in the union, should be at the expence of defending a
|
|
colony which refused to bear its proportionable part, and would
|
|
therefore one after another, withdraw, till the whole crumbled into
|
|
its original parts. -- Therefore the commissioners came to another
|
|
previous resolution, viz. _That it was necessary the union should be
|
|
established by act of parliament._
|
|
|
|
They then proceeded to sketch out a _plan of union_, which they
|
|
did in a plain and concise manner, just sufficient to shew their
|
|
sentiments of the kind of union that would best suit the
|
|
circumstances of the colonies, be most agreeable to the people, and
|
|
most effectually promote his Majesty's service and the general
|
|
interest of the British empire. -- This was respectfully sent to the
|
|
assemblies of the several colonies for their consideration, and to
|
|
receive such alterations and improvements as they should think fit
|
|
and necessary; after which it was proposed to be transmitted to
|
|
_England_ to be perfected, and the establishment of it there humbly
|
|
solicited.
|
|
|
|
This was as much as the commissioners could do. [ ]
|
|
|
|
II. _Reasons against partial Unions_.
|
|
|
|
It was proposed by some of the Commissioners to form the
|
|
colonies into two or three distinct unions; but for these reasons
|
|
that proposal was dropped even by those that made it; _viz_.
|
|
|
|
1. In all cases where the strength of the whole was necessary
|
|
to be used against the enemy, there would be the same difficulty in
|
|
degree, to bring the several unions to unite together, as now the
|
|
several colonies; and consequently the same delays on our part and
|
|
advantage to the enemy.
|
|
|
|
2. Each union would separately be weaker than when joined by
|
|
the whole, obliged to exert more force, be more oppressed by the
|
|
expence, and the enemy less deterred from attacking it.
|
|
|
|
3. Where particular colonies have _selfish views_, as New York
|
|
with regard to Indian trade and lands; or are _less exposed_, being
|
|
covered by others, as New Jersey, Rhode Island, Connecticut,
|
|
Maryland; or have _particular whims and prejudices_ against warlike
|
|
measures in general, as Pensylvania, where the Quakers predominate;
|
|
such colonies would have more weight in a partial union, and be
|
|
better able to oppose and obstruct the measures necessary for the
|
|
general good, than where they are swallowed up in the general union.
|
|
|
|
4. The _Indian_ trade would be better regulated by the union of
|
|
the whole than by partial unions. And as _Canada_ is chiefly
|
|
supported by that trade, if it could be drawn into the hands of the
|
|
_English_, (as it might be if the Indians were supplied on moderate
|
|
terms, and by honest traders appointed by and acting for the public)
|
|
that alone would contribute greatly to the weakening of our enemies.
|
|
|
|
5. The establishing of new colonies westward on the _Ohio_ and
|
|
the lakes, (a matter of considerable importance to the increase of
|
|
_British_ trade and power, to the breaking that of the _French_, and
|
|
to the protection and security of our present colonies,) would best
|
|
be carried on by a joint union.
|
|
|
|
6. It was also thought, that by the frequent meetings-together
|
|
of commissioners or representatives from all the colonies, the
|
|
circumstances of the whole would be better known, and the good of the
|
|
whole better provided for; and that the colonies would by this
|
|
connection learn to consider themselves, not as so many independent
|
|
states, but as members of the same body; and thence be more ready to
|
|
afford assistance and support to each other, and to make diversions
|
|
in favour even of the most distant, and to join cordially in any
|
|
expedition for the benefit of all against the common enemy.
|
|
|
|
|
|
These were the principal reasons and motives for forming the
|
|
plan of union as it stands. To which may be added this, that as the
|
|
union of the [ ]
|
|
|
|
III. _Plan of a proposed Union of the several Colonies of_
|
|
Massachusett's Bay, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New
|
|
York, New Jersey, Pensylvania, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina,
|
|
_and_ South Carolina _for their mutual Defence and Security, and for
|
|
extending the_ British _Settlements in_ North America, _with the
|
|
Reasons and Motives for each Article of the Plan as far as could be
|
|
remembered.
|
|
|
|
It is proposed. -- That humble application be made for an act
|
|
of parliament of _Great Britain_, by virtue of which one general
|
|
government may be formed in _America_ including all the said
|
|
colonies, within and under which government each colony may retain
|
|
its present constitution, except in the particulars wherein a change
|
|
may be directed by the said act as hereafter follows.
|
|
|
|
_President General, and Grand Council._
|
|
|
|
That the said general government be administered by a President
|
|
General to be appointed and supported by the crown; and a Grand
|
|
Council to be chosen by the representatives of the people of the
|
|
several colonies met in their respective assemblies.
|
|
|
|
It was thought that it would be best the President General
|
|
should be supported as well as appointed by the crown; that so all
|
|
disputes between him and the Grand Council concerning his salary
|
|
might be prevented; as such disputes have been frequently of
|
|
mischievous consequence in particular colonies, especially in time of
|
|
public danger. The quit-rents of crown-lands in America, might in a
|
|
short time be sufficient for this purpose. -- The choice of members
|
|
for the grand council is placed in the house of representatives of
|
|
each government, in order to give the people a share in this new
|
|
general government, as the crown has its share by the appointment of
|
|
the President General.
|
|
|
|
|
|
But it being proposed by the gentlemen of the council of _New
|
|
York_, and some other counsellors among the commissioners, to alter
|
|
the plan in this particular, and to give the governors and council of
|
|
the several provinces a share in the choice of the grand council, or
|
|
at least a power of approving and confirming or of disallowing the
|
|
choice made by the house of representatives, it was said:
|
|
|
|
"That the government or constitution proposed to be formed by
|
|
the plan, consists of two branches; a President General appointed by
|
|
the crown, and a council chosen by the people, or by the people's
|
|
representatives, which is the same thing.
|
|
|
|
"That by a subsequent article, the council chosen by the people
|
|
can effect nothing without the consent of the President General
|
|
appointed by the crown; the crown possesses therefore full one half
|
|
of the power of this constitution.
|
|
|
|
"That in the British constitution, the crown is supposed to
|
|
possess but one third, the Lords having their share.
|
|
|
|
"That this constitution seemed rather more favourable for the
|
|
crown.
|
|
|
|
"That it is essential to English liberty, that the subject
|
|
should not be taxed but by his own consent or the consent of his
|
|
elected representatives.
|
|
|
|
"That taxes to be laid and levied by this proposed constitution
|
|
will be proposed and agreed to by the representatives of the people,
|
|
if the plan in this particular be preserved:
|
|
|
|
"But if the proposed alteration should take place, it seemed as
|
|
if matters may be so managed as that the crown shall finally have the
|
|
appointment not only of the President General, but of a majority of
|
|
the grand council; for, seven out of eleven governors and councils
|
|
are appointed by the crown:
|
|
|
|
"And so the people in all the colonies would in effect be taxed
|
|
by their governors.
|
|
|
|
"It was therefore apprehended that such alterations of the plan
|
|
would give great dissatisfaction, and that the colonies could not be
|
|
easy under such a power in governors, and such an infringement of
|
|
what they take to be _English_ liberty.
|
|
|
|
"Besides, the giving a share in the choice of the grand council
|
|
would not be equal with respect to all the colonies, as their
|
|
constitutions differ. In some, both governor and council are
|
|
appointed by the crown. In others, they are both appointed by the
|
|
proprietors. In some, the people have a share in the choice of the
|
|
council; in others, both government and council are wholly chosen by
|
|
the people. But the house of representatives is every where chosen
|
|
by the people; and therefore placing the right of choosing the grand
|
|
council in the representatives, is equal with respect to all.
|
|
|
|
"That the grand council is intended to represent all the
|
|
several houses of representatives of the colonies, as a house of
|
|
representatives doth the several towns or counties of a colony.
|
|
Could all the people of a colony be consulted and unite in public
|
|
measures, a house of representatives would be needless: and could all
|
|
the assemblies conveniently consult and unite in general measures,
|
|
the grand council would be unnecessary.
|
|
|
|
"That a house of commons or the house of representatives, and
|
|
the grand council, are thus alike in their nature and intention. And
|
|
as it would seem improper that the King or house of Lords should have
|
|
a power of disallowing or appointing members of the house of commons;
|
|
-- so likewise that a governor and council appointed by the crown
|
|
should have a power of disallowing or appointing members of the grand
|
|
council, (who, in this constitution, are to be the representatives of
|
|
the people.)
|
|
|
|
"If the governors and councils therefore were to have a share
|
|
in the choice of any that are to conduct this general government, it
|
|
should seem more proper that they chose the President General. But
|
|
this being an office of great trust and importance to the nation, it
|
|
was thought better to be filled by the immediate appointment of the
|
|
crown.
|
|
|
|
"The power proposed to be given by the plan to the grand
|
|
council is only a concentration of the powers of the several
|
|
assemblies in certain points for the general welfare; as the power of
|
|
the President General is of the powers of the several governors in
|
|
the same points.
|
|
|
|
"And as the choice therefore of the grand council by the
|
|
representatives of the people, neither gives the people any new
|
|
powers, nor diminishes the power of the crown, it was thought and
|
|
hoped the crown would not disapprove of it."
|
|
|
|
Upon the whole, the commissioners were of opinion, that the
|
|
choice was most properly placed in the representatives of the people.
|
|
|
|
_Election of Members._
|
|
|
|
That within months after the passing such act, the house of
|
|
representatives that happen to be sitting within that time, or that
|
|
shall be especially for that purpose convened, may and shall choose
|
|
members for the grand council, in the following proportion, that is
|
|
to say,
|
|
|
|
_Massachussett's Bay_ . . . . . 7
|
|
_New Hampshire_ . . . . . . . . 2
|
|
_Connecticut_ . . . . . . . . 5
|
|
_Rhode Island_ . . . . . . . . 2
|
|
_New York_ . . . . . . . . . . 4
|
|
_New Jerseys_ . . . . . . . . . 3
|
|
_Pensylvania_ . . . . . . . . . 6
|
|
_Maryland_ . . . . . . . . . . 4
|
|
_Virginia_ . . . . . . . . . . 7
|
|
_North Carolina_ . . . . . . . 4
|
|
_South Carolina_ . . . . . . . 4
|
|
____
|
|
48
|
|
|
|
It was thought that if the least colony was allowed two, and
|
|
the others in proportion, the number would be very great and the
|
|
expence heavy; and that less than two would not be convenient, as a
|
|
single person, being by any accident prevented appearing at the
|
|
meeting, the colony he ought to appear for would not be represented.
|
|
That as the choice was not immediately popular, they would be
|
|
generally men of good abilities for business, and men of reputation
|
|
for integrity; and that forty-eight such men might be a number
|
|
sufficient. But, though it was thought reasonable that each colony
|
|
should have a share in the representative body in some degree,
|
|
according to the proportion it contributed to the general treasury;
|
|
yet the proportion of wealth or power of the colonies is not to be
|
|
judged by the proportion here fixed; because it was at first agreed
|
|
that the greatest colony should not have more than seven members, nor
|
|
the least less than two: and the settling these proportions between
|
|
these two extremes was not nicely attended to, as it would find
|
|
itself, after the first election from the sums brought into the
|
|
treasury, as by a subsequent article.
|
|
|
|
_Place of first Meeting._
|
|
|
|
-- who shall meet for the first time at the city of
|
|
_Philadelphia_ in Pensylvania, being called by the President General
|
|
as soon as conveniently may be after his appointment.
|
|
|
|
_Philadelphia_ was named as being near the center of the
|
|
colonies and where the Commissioners would be well and cheaply
|
|
accommodated. The high-roads through the whole extent, are for the
|
|
most part very good, in which forty or fifty miles a day may very
|
|
well be and frequently are travelled. Great part of the way may
|
|
likewise be gone by water. -- In summer-time the passages are
|
|
frequently performed in a week from _Charles Town_ to Philadelphia
|
|
and New York; and from _Rhode Island_ to New York through the Sound
|
|
in two or three days; and from _New York_ to Philadelphia by water
|
|
and land in two days, by stage-boats and wheel-carriages that set out
|
|
every other day. The journey from _Charles Town_ to Philadelphia may
|
|
likewise be facilitated by boats running up Chesapeak Bay three
|
|
hundred miles. -- But if the whole journey be performed on horseback,
|
|
the most distant members, (_viz_. the two from _New Hampshire_ and
|
|
from _South Carolina_) may probably render themselves at Philadelphia
|
|
in fifteen or twenty-days; -- the majority may be there in much less
|
|
time.
|
|
|
|
_New Election._
|
|
|
|
That there shall be a new election of the members of the Grand
|
|
Council every three years; and on the death or resignation of any
|
|
member, his place shall be supplied by a new choice at the next
|
|
sitting of the assembly of the colony he represented.
|
|
|
|
Some colonies have annual assemblies, some continue during a
|
|
governor's pleasure; three years was thought a reasonable medium, as
|
|
affording a new member time to improve himself in the business, and
|
|
to act after such improvement; and yet giving opportunities, frequent
|
|
enough, to change him if he has misbehaved.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Proportion of Members after the first three Years._
|
|
|
|
That after the first three years, when the proportion of money
|
|
arising out of each colony to the general treasury can be known, the
|
|
number of members to be chosen for each colony shall from time to
|
|
time, in all ensuing elections, be regulated by that proportion (yet
|
|
so as that the number to be chosen by any one province be not more
|
|
than seven, nor less than two).
|
|
|
|
By a subsequent article it is proposed, that the general
|
|
council shall lay and levy such general duties as to them may appear
|
|
most equal and least burthensome, &c. Suppose, for instance, they
|
|
lay a small duty or excise on some commodity imported into or made in
|
|
the colonies, and pretty generally and equally used in all of them;
|
|
as rum perhaps, or wine: the yearly produce of this duty or excise,
|
|
if fairly collected, would be in some colonies greater, in others
|
|
less, as the colonies are greater or smaller. When the collectors
|
|
accounts are brought in, the proportions will appear; and from them
|
|
it is proposed to regulate the proportion of representatives to be
|
|
chosen at the next general election, within the limits however of
|
|
seven and two. These numbers may therefore vary in course of years,
|
|
as the colonies may in the growth and increase of people. And thus
|
|
the quota of tax from each colony would naturally vary with its
|
|
circumstances; thereby preventing all disputes and dissatisfactions
|
|
about the just proportions due from each; which might otherwise
|
|
produce pernicious consequences, and destroy the harmony and good
|
|
agreement that ought to subsist between the several parts of the
|
|
union.
|
|
|
|
_Meetings of the Grand Council, and Call._
|
|
|
|
That the Grand Council shall meet once in every year and
|
|
oftener if occasion require, at such time and place as they shall
|
|
adjourn to at the last preceding meeting, or as they shall be called
|
|
to meet at by the President General on any emergency; he having first
|
|
obtained in writing the consent of seven of the members to such call,
|
|
and sent due and timely notice to the whole.
|
|
|
|
|
|
It was thought, in establishing and governing new colonies or
|
|
settlements, regulating _Indian_ trade, _Indian_ treaties, &c. there
|
|
would be every year sufficient business arise to require at least one
|
|
meeting, and at such meeting many things might be suggested for the
|
|
benefit of all the colonies. This annual meeting may either be at a
|
|
time or place certain, to be fixed by the President General and grand
|
|
council at their first meeting; or left at liberty, to be at such
|
|
time and place as they shall adjourn to, or be called to meet at by
|
|
the President General.
|
|
|
|
In _time of war_ it seems convenient, that the meeting should
|
|
be in that colony, which is nearest the seat of action.
|
|
|
|
The power of calling them on any emergency seemed necessary to
|
|
be vested in the President General; but that such power might not be
|
|
wantonly used to harass the members, and oblige them to make frequent
|
|
long journies to little purpose, the consent of seven at least to
|
|
such call was supposed a convenient guard.
|
|
|
|
_Continuance._
|
|
|
|
That the Grand Council have power to choose their speaker; and
|
|
shall neither be dissolved, prorogued, nor continued sitting longer
|
|
than six weeks at one time; without their own consent or the special
|
|
command of the crown.
|
|
|
|
The speaker should be presented for approbation; it being
|
|
convenient, to prevent misunderstandings and disgusts, that the mouth
|
|
of the council should be a person agreeable, if possible, both to the
|
|
council and the President General.
|
|
|
|
Governors have sometimes wantonly exercised the power of
|
|
proroguing or continuing the sessions of assemblies, merely to harass
|
|
the members and compel a compliance; and sometimes dissolve them on
|
|
slight disgusts. This it was feared might be done by the President
|
|
General, if not provided against: and the inconvenience and hardship
|
|
would be greater in the general government than in particular
|
|
colonies, in proportion to the distance the members must be from
|
|
home, during sittings, and the long journies some of them must
|
|
necessarily take.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Members' Allowance._
|
|
|
|
That the members of the Grand Council shall be allowed for
|
|
their service ten shillings sterling _per diem_, during their session
|
|
and journey to and from the place of meeting; twenty miles to be
|
|
reckoned a day's journey.
|
|
|
|
It was thought proper to allow _some_ wages, lest the expence
|
|
might deter some suitable persons from the service; -- and not to
|
|
allow _too great_ wages, lest unsuitable persons should be tempted to
|
|
cabal for the employment for the sake of gain. -- Twenty miles was
|
|
set down as a day's journey to allow for accidental hinderances on
|
|
the road, and the greater expences of travelling than residing at the
|
|
place of meeting.
|
|
|
|
_Assent of President General and his Duty._
|
|
|
|
That the assent of the President General be requisite to all
|
|
acts of the Grand Council; and that it be his office and duty to
|
|
cause them to be carried into execution.
|
|
|
|
The assent of the President General to all acts of the grand
|
|
council was made necessary, in order to give the crown its due share
|
|
of influence in this government, and connect it with that of _Great
|
|
Britain_. The President General, besides one half of the legislative
|
|
power, hath in his hands the whole executive power.
|
|
|
|
_Power of President General and Grand Council.
|
|
Treaties of Peace and War._
|
|
|
|
That the President General, with the advice of the Grand
|
|
Council, hold or direct all _Indian_ treaties in which the general
|
|
interest of the colonies may be concerned; and make peace or declare
|
|
war with Indian nations.
|
|
|
|
The power of making peace or war with _Indian_ nations is at
|
|
present supposed to be in every colony, and is expressly granted to
|
|
some by charter, so that no new power is hereby intended to be
|
|
granted to the colonies. -- But as, in consequence of this power, one
|
|
colony might make peace with a nation that another was justly engaged
|
|
in war with; or make war on slight occasions without the concurrence
|
|
or approbation of neighbouring colonies, greatly endangered by it; or
|
|
make particular treaties of neutrality in case of a general war, to
|
|
their own private advantage in trade, by supplying the common enemy;
|
|
of all which there have been instances -- it was thought better to
|
|
have all treaties of a general nature under a general direction; that
|
|
so the good of the whole may be consulted and provided for.
|
|
|
|
_Indian Trade._
|
|
|
|
That they make such laws as they judge necessary for regulating
|
|
all Indian trade.
|
|
|
|
Many quarrels and wars have arisen between the colonies and
|
|
Indian nations, through the bad conduct of traders; who cheat the
|
|
Indians after making them drunk, &c. to the great expence of the
|
|
colonies both in blood and treasure. Particular colonies are so
|
|
interested in the trade as not to be willing to admit such a
|
|
regulation as might be best for the whole; and therefore it was
|
|
thought best under a general direction.
|
|
|
|
_Indian Purchases._
|
|
|
|
That they make all purchases from Indians for the crown, of
|
|
lands not now within the bounds of particular colonies or that shall
|
|
not be within their bounds when some of them are reduced to more
|
|
convenient dimensions.
|
|
|
|
Purchases from the Indians made by private persons, have been
|
|
attended with many inconveniences. They have frequently interfered,
|
|
and occasioned uncertainty of titles, many disputes and expensive
|
|
law-suits, and hindered the settlement of the land so disputed. Then
|
|
the Indians have been cheated by such private purchases, and
|
|
discontent and wars have been the consequence. These would be
|
|
prevented by public fair purchases.
|
|
|
|
Several of the colony charters in America extend their bounds
|
|
to the _South Sea_, which may be perhaps three or four thousand miles
|
|
in length to one or two hundred miles in breadth. It is supposed
|
|
they must in time be reduced to dimensions more convenient for the
|
|
common purposes of government.
|
|
|
|
Very little of the land in those grants is yet purchased of the
|
|
Indians.
|
|
|
|
|
|
It is much cheaper to purchase of them, than to take and
|
|
maintain the possession by force: for they are generally very
|
|
reasonable in their demands for land; and the expence of guarding a
|
|
large frontier against their incursions is vastly great; because all
|
|
must be guarded and always guarded, as we know not where or when _to
|
|
expect them_.
|
|
|
|
_New Settlements._
|
|
|
|
That they make new settlements on such purchases by granting
|
|
lands in the King's name, reserving a quit-rent to the crown for the
|
|
use of the general treasury.
|
|
|
|
It is supposed better that there should be one purchaser than
|
|
many; and that the crown should be that purchaser, or the union in
|
|
the name of the crown. By this means the bargains may be more easily
|
|
made, the price not inhanced by numerous bidders, future disputes
|
|
about private Indian purchases, and monopolies of vast tracts to
|
|
particular persons (which are prejudicial to the settlement and
|
|
peopling of a country) prevented; and the land being again granted in
|
|
small tracts to the settlers, the quit-rents reserved may in time
|
|
become a fund for support of government, for defence of the country,
|
|
ease of taxes, &c.
|
|
|
|
Strong forts on the lakes, the Ohio, &c. may at the same time
|
|
they secure our present frontiers, serve to defend new colonies
|
|
settled under their protection; and such colonies would also mutually
|
|
defend and support such forts, and better secure the friendship of
|
|
the far Indians.
|
|
|
|
A particular colony has scarce strength enough to extend itself
|
|
by new settlements, at so great a distance from the old: but the
|
|
joint force of the union might suddenly establish a new colony or two
|
|
in those parts, or extend an old colony to particular passes, greatly
|
|
to the security of our present frontiers, increase of trade and
|
|
people, breaking off the French communication between _Canada_ and
|
|
_Louisiana_, and speedy settlement of the intermediate lands.
|
|
|
|
The power of settling new colonies is therefore thought a
|
|
valuable part of the plan; and what cannot so well be executed by two
|
|
unions as by one.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Laws to govern them._
|
|
|
|
That they make laws for regulating and governing such new
|
|
settlements, till the crown shall think fit to form them into
|
|
particular governments.
|
|
|
|
The making of laws suitable for the new colonies, it was
|
|
thought would be properly vested in the President General and grand
|
|
council; under whose protection they will at first necessarily be,
|
|
and who would be well acquainted with their circumstances, as having
|
|
settled them. When they are become sufficiently populous, they may
|
|
by the crown, be formed into compleat and distinct governments.
|
|
|
|
The appointment of a Sub-president by the crown, to take place
|
|
in case of the death or absence of the President General, would
|
|
perhaps be an improvement of the plan; and if all the governors of
|
|
particular provinces were to be formed into a standing council of
|
|
state, for the advice and assistance of the President General, it
|
|
might be another considerable improvement.
|
|
|
|
_Raise Soldiers and equip Vessels,_ &c.
|
|
|
|
That they raise and pay soldiers and build forts for the
|
|
defence of any of the colonies, and equip vessels of force to guard
|
|
the coasts and protect the trade on the ocean, lakes, or great
|
|
rivers; but they shall not impress men in any colony without the
|
|
consent of the legislature.
|
|
|
|
It was thought, that quotas of men to be raised and paid by the
|
|
several colonies, and joined for any public service, could not always
|
|
be got together with the necessary expedition. For instance, suppose
|
|
one thousand men should be wanted in _New Hampshire_ on any
|
|
emergency; to fetch them by fifties and hundreds out of every colony
|
|
as far as _South Carolina_, would be inconvenient, the transportation
|
|
chargeable, and the occasion perhaps passed before they could be
|
|
assembled; and therefore that it would be best to raise them (by
|
|
offering bounty-money and pay) near the place where they would be
|
|
wanted, to be discharged again when the service should be over.
|
|
|
|
Particular colonies are at present backward to build forts at
|
|
their own expence, which they say will be equally useful to their
|
|
neighbouring colonies; who refuse to join, on a presumption that such
|
|
forts _will_ be built and kept up, though they contribute nothing.
|
|
This unjust conduct weakens the whole; but the forts being for the
|
|
good of the whole, it was thought best they should be built and
|
|
maintained by the whole, out of the common treasury.
|
|
|
|
In the time of war, small vessels of force are sometimes
|
|
necessary in the colonies to scour the coast of small privateers.
|
|
These being provided by the Union, will be an advantage in turn to
|
|
the colonies which are situated on the sea, and whose frontiers on
|
|
the land-side, being covered by other colonies, reap but little
|
|
immediate benefit from the advanced forts.
|
|
|
|
_Power to make Laws, lay Duties,_ &c.
|
|
|
|
That for these purposes they have power to make laws, and lay
|
|
and levy such general duties, imports, or taxes, as to them shall
|
|
appear most equal and just, (considering the ability and other
|
|
circumstances of the inhabitants in the several colonies,) and such
|
|
as may be collected with the least inconvenience to the people;
|
|
rather discouraging luxury, than loading industry with unnecessary
|
|
burthens.
|
|
|
|
The laws which the President General and grand council are
|
|
impowered to make, _are such only_ as shall be necessary for the
|
|
government of the settlements; the raising, regulating and paying
|
|
soldiers for the general service; the regulating of Indian trade; and
|
|
laying and collecting the general duties and taxes. (They should
|
|
also have a power to restrain the exportation of provisions to the
|
|
enemy from any of the colonies, on particular occasions, in time of
|
|
war.) But it is not intended that they may interfere with the
|
|
constitution and government of the particular colonies; who are to be
|
|
left to their own laws, and to lay, levy, and apply their own taxes
|
|
as before.
|
|
|
|
_General Treasurer and Particular Treasurer._
|
|
|
|
That they may appoint a General Treasurer and Particular
|
|
Treasurer in each government when necessary; and from time to time
|
|
may order the sums in the treasuries of each government into the
|
|
general treasury; or draw on them for special payments, as they find
|
|
most convenient.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The treasurers here meant are only for the general funds; and
|
|
not for the particular funds of each colony, which remain in the
|
|
hands of their own treasurers at their own disposal.
|
|
|
|
_Money how to issue._
|
|
|
|
Yet no money to issue but by joint orders of the President
|
|
General and Grand Council; except where sums have been appropriated
|
|
to particular purposes, and the President General is previously
|
|
impowered by an act to draw for such sums.
|
|
|
|
To prevent misapplication of the money, or even application
|
|
that might be dissatisfactory to the crown or the people, it was
|
|
thought necessary to join the President General and grand council in
|
|
all issues of money.
|
|
|
|
_Accounts._
|
|
|
|
That the general Accounts shall be yearly settled and reported
|
|
to the several assemblies.
|
|
|
|
By communicating the accounts yearly to each assembly, they
|
|
will be satisfied of the prudent and honest conduct of their
|
|
representatives in the grand council.
|
|
|
|
_Quorum._
|
|
|
|
That a quorum of the Grand Council impowered to act with the
|
|
President General, do consist of twenty-five members; among whom
|
|
there shall be one or more from a majority of the colonies.
|
|
|
|
The quorum seems large, but it was thought it would not be
|
|
satisfactory to the colonies in general, to have matters of
|
|
importance to the whole transacted by a smaller number, or even by
|
|
this number of twenty-five, unless there were among them one at least
|
|
from a majority of the colonies; because otherwise the whole quorum
|
|
being made up of members from three or four colonies at one end of
|
|
the union, something might be done that would not be equal with
|
|
respect to the rest, and thence dissatisfactions and discords might
|
|
rise to the prejudice of the whole.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Laws to be transmitted._
|
|
|
|
That the laws made by them for the purposes aforesaid shall not
|
|
be repugnant, but, as near as may be, agreeable to the laws of
|
|
_England_, and shall be transmitted to the King in council for
|
|
approbation as soon as may be after their passing; and if not
|
|
disapproved within three years after presentation, to remain in
|
|
force.
|
|
|
|
This was thought necessary for the satisfaction of the crown,
|
|
to preserve the connection of the parts of the _British_ empire with
|
|
the whole, of the members with the head, and to induce greater care
|
|
and circumspection in making of the laws, that they be good in
|
|
themselves and for the general benefit.
|
|
|
|
_Death of the President General._
|
|
|
|
That in case of the death of the President General, the speaker
|
|
of the Grand Council for the time being shall succeed, and be vested
|
|
with the same powers and authorities, to continue till the King's
|
|
pleasure be known.
|
|
|
|
It might be better, perhaps, as was said before, if the crown
|
|
appointed a Vice President, to take place on the death or absence of
|
|
the President General; for so we should be more sure of a suitable
|
|
person at the head of the colonies. On the death or absence of both,
|
|
the speaker to take place (or rather the eldest King's-governor) till
|
|
his Majesty's pleasure be known.
|
|
|
|
_Officers how appointed._
|
|
|
|
That all military commission officers, whether for land or sea
|
|
service, to act under this general constitution, shall be nominated
|
|
by the President General; but the approbation of the Grand Council is
|
|
to be obtained, before they receive their commissions. And all civil
|
|
officers are to be nominated by the Grand Council, and to receive the
|
|
President General's approbation before they officiate.
|
|
|
|
It was thought it might be very prejudicial to the service, to
|
|
have officers appointed unknown to the people, or unacceptable; the
|
|
generality of Americans serving willingly under officers they know;
|
|
and not caring to engage in the service under strangers, or such as
|
|
are often appointed by governors through favour or interest. The
|
|
service here meant, is not the stated settled service in standing
|
|
troops; but any sudden and short service, either for defence of our
|
|
own colonies, or invading the enemies country; (such as, the
|
|
expedition to _Cape Breton_ in the last war; in which many
|
|
substantial farmers and tradesmen engaged as common soldiers under
|
|
officers of their own country, for whom they had an esteem and
|
|
affection; who would not have engaged in a standing army, or under
|
|
officers from England.) -- It was therefore thought best to give the
|
|
council the power of approving the officers, which the people will
|
|
look upon as a great security of their being good men. And without
|
|
some such provision as this, it was thought the expence of engaging
|
|
men in the service on any emergency would be much greater, and the
|
|
number who could be induced to engage much less; and that therefore
|
|
it would be most for the King's service and general benefit of the
|
|
nation, that the prerogative should relax a little in this particular
|
|
throughout all the colonies in America; as it had already done much
|
|
more in the charters of some particular colonies, viz. _Connecticut_
|
|
and _Rhode Island_.
|
|
|
|
The civil officers will be chiefly treasurers and collectors of
|
|
taxes; and the suitable persons are most likely to be known by the
|
|
council.
|
|
|
|
_Vacancies how supplied._
|
|
|
|
But in case of vacancy by death, or removal of any officer
|
|
civil or military under this constitution, the governor of the
|
|
province in which such vacancy happens, may appoint till the pleasure
|
|
of the President General and Grand Council can be known.
|
|
|
|
The vacancies were thought best supplied by the governors in
|
|
each province, till a new appointment can be regularly made;
|
|
otherwise the service might suffer before the meeting of the
|
|
President General and grand council.
|
|
|
|
_Each Colony may defend itself on Emergency,_ &c.
|
|
|
|
That the particular military as well as civil establishments in
|
|
each colony remain in their present state, the general constitution
|
|
notwithstanding; and that on sudden emergencies any colony may defend
|
|
itself and lay the accounts of expence thence arising before the
|
|
President General and general council, who may allow and order
|
|
payment of the same as far as they judge such accounts just and
|
|
reasonable.
|
|
|
|
Otherwise the Union of the whole would weaken the parts,
|
|
contrary to the design of the union. The accounts are to be judged
|
|
of by the President General and grand council, and allowed if found
|
|
reasonable: this was thought necessary to encourage colonies to
|
|
defend themselves, as the expence would be light when borne by the
|
|
whole; and also to check imprudent and lavish expence in such
|
|
defences.
|
|
|
|
Remark, Feb. 9. 1789.
|
|
|
|
On Reflection it now seems probable, that if the foregoing Plan
|
|
or some thing like it, had been adopted and carried into Execution,
|
|
the subsequent Separation of the Colonies from the Mother Country
|
|
might not so soon have happened, nor the Mischiefs suffered on both
|
|
sides have occurred, perhaps during another Century. For the
|
|
Colonies, if so united, would have really been, as they then thought
|
|
themselves, sufficient to their own Defence, and being trusted with
|
|
it, as by the Plan, an Army from Britain, for that purpose would have
|
|
been unnecessary: The Pretences for framing the Stamp-Act would then
|
|
not have existed, nor the other Projects for drawing a Revenue from
|
|
America to Britain by Acts of Parliament, which were the Cause of the
|
|
Breach, and attended with such terrible Expence of Blood and
|
|
Treasure: so that the different Parts of the Empire might still have
|
|
remained in Peace and Union. But the Fate of this Plan was singular.
|
|
For tho' after many Days thorough Discussion of all its Parts in
|
|
Congress it was unanimously agreed to, and Copies ordered to be sent
|
|
to the Assembly of each Province for Concurrence, and one to the
|
|
Ministry in England for the Approbation of the Crown. The Crown
|
|
disapprov'd it, as having plac'd too much Weight in the democratic
|
|
Part of the Constitution; and every Assembly as having allow'd too
|
|
much to Prerogative. So it was totally rejected.
|
|
|
|
July, 1754; February 9, 1789
|
|
|
|
|
|
_No Taxation Without Representation:
|
|
Three Letters of_ 1754 _to Governor William
|
|
Shirley, with a Preface of_ 1766
|
|
|
|
_To the_ PRINTER _of the_ LONDON CHRONICLE.
|
|
|
|
SIR,
|
|
In July 1754, when from the encroachments of the French in
|
|
America on the lands of the crown, and the interruption they gave to
|
|
the commerce of this country among the Indians, a war was
|
|
apprehended, commissioners from a number of the colonies met at
|
|
Albany, to form a PLAN OF UNION for their common defence. The plan
|
|
they agreed to was in short this; `That a grand council should be
|
|
formed, of members to be chosen by the assemblies and sent from all
|
|
the colonies; which council, together with a governor general to be
|
|
appointed by the crown, should be empowered to make general laws to
|
|
raise money in all the colonies for the defence of the whole.' This
|
|
plan was sent to the government here for approbation: had it been
|
|
approved and established by authority from hence, English America
|
|
thought itself sufficiently able to cope with the French, without
|
|
other assistance; several of the colonies having alone in former wars
|
|
withstood the whole power of the enemy, unassisted not only by the
|
|
mother country, but by any of the neighbouring provinces. The plan
|
|
however was not approved here: but a new one was formed instead of
|
|
it, by which it was proposed, that `the Governors of all the
|
|
colonies, attended by one or two members of their respective
|
|
councils, should assemble, concert measures for the defence of the
|
|
whole, erect forts where they judged proper, and raise what troops
|
|
they thought necessary, with power to draw on the treasury here for
|
|
the sums that should be wanted; and the treasury to be reimbursed by
|
|
a tax laid on the colonies by act of parliament.' This new plan being
|
|
communicated by Governor _Shirley_ to a gentleman of Philadelphia,
|
|
then in Boston, (who hath very eminently distinguished himself,
|
|
before and since that time, in the literary world, and whose
|
|
judgment, penetration and candor, as well as his readiness and
|
|
ability to suggest, forward, or carry into execution every scheme of
|
|
publick utility, hath most deservedly endeared him not only to our
|
|
fellow subjects throughout the whole continent of North-America, but
|
|
to his numberless friends on this side the Atlantic) occasioned the
|
|
following remarks from him, which perhaps may contribute in some
|
|
degree to its being laid aside. As they very particularly show the
|
|
then sentiments of the Americans on the subject of a parliamentary
|
|
tax, _before_ the French power in that country was subdued, and
|
|
_before_ the late restraints on their commerce, they satisfy me, and
|
|
I hope they will convince your readers, contrary to what has been
|
|
advanced by some of your correspondents, that those particulars have
|
|
had no share in producing the present opposition to such a tax, nor
|
|
in the disturbances occasioned by it; which these papers indeed do
|
|
almost prophetically foretell. For this purpose, having accidentally
|
|
fallen into my hands, they are communicated to you by one who is, not
|
|
_partially_, but in the _most enlarged sense_,
|
|
A LOVER OF BRITAIN.
|
|
|
|
SIR, _Tuesday Morning_.
|
|
"I return the loose sheets of the plan, with thanks to your
|
|
Excellency for communicating them.
|
|
|
|
"I apprehend, that excluding the _People_ of the Colonies from
|
|
all share in the choice of the Grand Council, will give extreme
|
|
dissatisfaction, as well as the taxing them by Act of Parliament,
|
|
where they have no Representative. It is very possible, that this
|
|
general Government might be as well and faithfully administer'd
|
|
without the people, as with them; but where heavy burthens are to be
|
|
laid on them, it has been found useful to make it, as much as
|
|
possible, their own act; for they bear better when they have, or
|
|
think they have some share in the direction; and when any public
|
|
measures are generally grievous or even distasteful to the people,
|
|
the wheels of Government must move more heavily."
|
|
|
|
December 3, 1754
|
|
|
|
Sir, Boston. December 4. 1754
|
|
I mention'd it Yesterday to your Excellency as my Opinion, that
|
|
Excluding the People of the Colonies from all Share in the Choice of
|
|
the Grand Council would probably give extreme Dissatisfaction, as
|
|
well as the Taxing them by Act of Parliament where they have no
|
|
Representative. In Matters of General Concern to the People, and
|
|
especially where Burthens are to be laid upon them, it is of Use to
|
|
consider as well what they will _be apt_ to think and say, as what
|
|
they _ought_ to think: I shall, therefore, as your Excellency
|
|
requires it of me, briefly mention what of either Kind occurs at
|
|
present, on this Occasion.
|
|
|
|
First, they will say, and perhaps with Justice, that the Body
|
|
of the People in the Colonies are as loyal, and as firmly attach'd to
|
|
the present Constitution and reigning Family, as any Subjects in the
|
|
King's Dominions; that there is no Reason to doubt the Readiness and
|
|
Willingness of their Representatives to grant, from Time to Time,
|
|
such Supplies, for the Defence of the Country, as shall be judg'd
|
|
necessary, so far as their Abilities will allow: That the People in
|
|
the Colonies, who are to feel the immediate Mischiefs of Invasion and
|
|
Conquest by an Enemy, in the Loss of their Estates, Lives and
|
|
Liberties, are likely to be better Judges of the Quantity of Forces
|
|
necessary to be raised and maintain'd, Forts to be built and
|
|
supported, and of their own Abilities to bear the Expence, than the
|
|
Parliament of England at so great a Distance. That Governors often
|
|
come to the Colonies meerly to make Fortunes, with which they intend
|
|
to return to Britain, are not always Men of the best Abilities and
|
|
Integrity, have no Estates here, nor any natural Connections with us,
|
|
that should make them heartily concern'd for our Welfare; and might
|
|
possibly be sometimes fond of raising and keeping up more Forces than
|
|
necessary, from the Profits accruing to themselves, and to make
|
|
Provision for their Friends and Dependents. That the Councellors in
|
|
most of the Colonies, being appointed by the Crown, on the
|
|
Recommendation of Governors, are often of small Estates, frequently
|
|
dependant on the Governors for Offices, and therefore too much under
|
|
Influence. That there is therefore great Reason to be jealous of a
|
|
Power in such Governors and Councils, to raise such Sums as they
|
|
shall judge necessary, by Draft on the Lords of the Treasury, to be
|
|
afterwards laid on the Colonies by Act of Parliament, and paid by the
|
|
People here; since they might abuse it, by projecting useless
|
|
Expeditions, harrassing the People, and taking them from their Labour
|
|
to execute such Projects, and meerly to create Offices and
|
|
Employments, gratify their Dependants and divide Profits. That the
|
|
Parliament of England is at a great Distance, subject to be
|
|
misinform'd by such Governors and Councils, whose united Interests
|
|
might probably secure them against the Effect of any Complaints from
|
|
hence. That it is suppos'd an undoubted Right of Englishmen not to
|
|
be taxed but by their own Consent given thro' their Representatives.
|
|
That the Colonies have no Representatives in Parliament. That to
|
|
propose taxing them by Parliament, and refusing them the Liberty of
|
|
chusing a Representative Council, to meet in the Colonies, and
|
|
consider and judge of the Necessity of any General Tax and the
|
|
Quantum, shews a Suspicion of their Loyalty to the Crown, or Regard
|
|
for their Country, or of their Common Sense and Understanding, which
|
|
they have not deserv'd. That compelling the Colonies to pay Money
|
|
without their Consent would be rather like raising Contributions in
|
|
an Enemy's Country, than taxing of Englishmen for their own publick
|
|
Benefit. That it would be treating them as a conquer'd People, and
|
|
not as true British Subjects. That a Tax laid by the Representatives
|
|
of the Colonies might easily be lessened as the Occasions should
|
|
lessen, but being once laid by Parliament, under the Influence of the
|
|
Representations made by Governors, would probably be kept up and
|
|
continued, for the Benefit of Governors, to the grievous Burthen and
|
|
Discouragement of the Colonies, and preventing their Growth and
|
|
Increase. That a Power in Governors to march the Inhabitants from
|
|
one End of the British and French Colonies to the other, being a
|
|
Country of at least 1500 Miles square, without the Approbation or
|
|
Consent of their Representatives first obtain'd to such Expeditions,
|
|
might be grievous and ruinous to the People, and would put them on a
|
|
Footing with the Subjects of France in Canada, that now groan under
|
|
such Oppression from their Governor, who for two Years past has
|
|
harrass'd them with long and destructive Marches to the Ohio. That
|
|
if the Colonies in a Body may be well governed by Governors and
|
|
Councils appointed by the Crown, without Representatives, particular
|
|
Colonies may as well or better be so governed; a Tax may be laid on
|
|
them all by Act of Parliament, for Support of Government, and their
|
|
Assemblies be dismiss'd as a useless Part of their Constitution.
|
|
That the Powers propos'd, by the Albany Plan of Union to be vested in
|
|
a Grand Council representative of the People, even with Regard to
|
|
Military Matters, are not so great as those the Colonies of
|
|
Rhode-Island and Connecticut are intrusted with, and have never
|
|
abused; for by this Plan the President-General is appointed by the
|
|
Crown, and controlls all by his Negative; but in those Governments
|
|
the People chuse the Governor, and yet allow him no Negative. That
|
|
the British Colonies, bordering on the French, are properly Frontiers
|
|
of the British Empire; and that the Frontiers of an Empire are
|
|
properly defended at the joint Expence of the Body of People in such
|
|
Empire. It would now be thought hard, by Act of Parliament, to
|
|
oblige the Cinque Ports or Sea Coasts of Britain to maintain the
|
|
whole Navy, because they are more immediately defended by it, not
|
|
allowing them, at the same Time, a Vote in chusing Members of
|
|
Parliament: And if the Frontiers in America must bear the Expence of
|
|
their own Defence, it seems hard to allow them no Share in Voting the
|
|
Money, judging of the Necessity and Sum, or advising the Measures.
|
|
That besides the Taxes necessary for the Defence of the Frontiers,
|
|
the Colonies pay yearly great Sums to the Mother Country unnotic'd:
|
|
For Taxes, paid in Britain by the Land holder or Artificer, must
|
|
enter into and increase the Price of the Produce of Land, and of
|
|
Manufactures made of it; and great Part of this is paid by Consumers
|
|
in the Colonies, who thereby pay a considerable Part of the British
|
|
Taxes. We are restrain'd in our Trade with Foreign Nations, and
|
|
where we could be supplied with any Manufactures cheaper from them,
|
|
but must buy the same dearer from Britain, the Difference of Price is
|
|
a clear Tax to Britain. We are oblig'd to carry great Part of our
|
|
Produce directly to Britain, and where the Duties there laid upon it
|
|
lessens its Price to the Planter, or it sells for less than it would
|
|
in Foreign Markets, the Difference is a Tax paid to Britain. Some
|
|
Manufactures we could make, but are forbid, and must take them of
|
|
British Merchants; the whole Price of these is a Tax paid to Britain.
|
|
By our greatly increasing the _Consumption_ and _Demand_ of British
|
|
Manufactures, their Price is considerably rais'd of late Years; the
|
|
Advance is clear Profit to Britain, and enables its People better to
|
|
pay great Taxes; and much of it being paid by us is clear Tax to
|
|
Britain. In short, as we are not suffer'd to regulate our Trade, and
|
|
restrain the Importation and Consumption of British Superfluities,
|
|
(as Britain can the Consumption of Foreign Superfluities) our whole
|
|
Wealth centers finally among the Merchants and Inhabitants of
|
|
Britain, and if we make them richer, and enable them better to pay
|
|
their Taxes, it is nearly the same as being taxed ourselves, and
|
|
equally beneficial to the Crown. These Kind of Secondary Taxes,
|
|
however, we do not complain of, tho' we have no Share in the Laying
|
|
or Disposing of them; but to pay immediate heavy Taxes, in the Laying
|
|
Appropriation or Disposition of which, we have no Part, and which
|
|
perhaps we may know to be as unnecessary as grievous, must seem hard
|
|
Measure to Englishmen, who cannot conceive, that by hazarding their
|
|
Lives and Fortunes in subduing and settling new Countries, extending
|
|
the Dominion and encreasing the Commerce of their Mother Nation, they
|
|
have forfeited the native Rights of Britons, which they think ought
|
|
rather to have been given them, as due to such Merit, if they had
|
|
been before in a State of Slavery.
|
|
|
|
These, and such Kind of Things as these, I apprehend will be
|
|
thought and said by the People, if the propos'd Alteration of the
|
|
Albany Plan should take Place. Then, the Administration of the Board
|
|
of Governors and Council so appointed, not having any Representative
|
|
Body of the People to approve and unite in its Measures, and
|
|
conciliate the Minds of the People to them, will probably become
|
|
suspected and odious. Animosities and dangerous Feuds will arise
|
|
between the Governors and Governed, and every Thing go into
|
|
confusion. Perhaps I am too apprehensive in this Matter, but having
|
|
freely given my Opinion and Reasons, your Excellency can better judge
|
|
whether there be any Weight in them. And the Shortness of the Time
|
|
allow'd me will I hope, in some Degree, excuse the Imperfections of
|
|
this Scrawl.
|
|
|
|
With the greatest Respect and Fidelity, I am, Your Excellency's
|
|
most obedient and most humble Servant.
|
|
|
|
|
|
SIR, _Boston, Dec_. 22, 1754.
|
|
"Since the conversation your Excellency was pleased to honour
|
|
me with, on the subject of uniting the Colonies more intimately with
|
|
Great Britain, by allowing them Representatives in Parliament, I have
|
|
something further considered that matter, and am of opinion, that
|
|
such an Union would be very acceptable to the Colonies, provided they
|
|
had a reasonable number of Representatives allowed them; and that all
|
|
the old Acts of Parliament restraining the trade or cramping the
|
|
manufactures of the Colonies, be at the same time repealed, and the
|
|
British Subjects on this side the water put, in those respects, on
|
|
the same footing with those in Great Britain, 'till the new
|
|
Parliament, representing the whole, shall think it for the interest
|
|
of the whole to reenact some or all of them: It is not that I imagine
|
|
so many Representatives will be allowed the Colonies, as to have any
|
|
great weight by their numbers; but I think there might be sufficient
|
|
to occasion those laws to be better and more impartially considered,
|
|
and perhaps to overcome the private interest of a petty corporation,
|
|
or of any particular set of artificers or traders in England, who
|
|
heretofore seem, in some instances, to have been more regarded than
|
|
all the Colonies, or than was consistent with the general interest,
|
|
or best national good. I think too, that the government of the
|
|
Colonies by a Parliament, in which they are fairly represented, would
|
|
be vastly more agreeable to the people, than the method lately
|
|
attempted to be introduced by Royal Instructions, as well as more
|
|
agreeable to the nature of an English Constitution, and to English
|
|
Liberty; and that such laws as now seem to bear hard on the Colonies,
|
|
would (when judged by such a Parliament for the best interest of the
|
|
whole) be more chearfully submitted to, and more easily executed.
|
|
|
|
"I should hope too, that by such an union, the people of Great
|
|
Britain and the people of the Colonies would learn to consider
|
|
themselves, not as belonging to different Communities with different
|
|
Interests, but to one Community with one Interest, which I imagine
|
|
would contribute to strengthen the whole, and greatly lessen the
|
|
danger of future separations.
|
|
|
|
"It is, I suppose, agreed to be the general interest of any
|
|
state, that it's people be numerous and rich; men enow to fight in
|
|
its defence, and enow to pay sufficient taxes to defray the charge;
|
|
for these circumstances tend to the security of the state, and its
|
|
protection from foreign power: But it seems not of so much importance
|
|
whether the fighting be done by John or Thomas, or the tax paid by
|
|
William or Charles: The iron manufacture employs and enriches British
|
|
Subjects, but is it of any importance to the state, whether the
|
|
manufacturers live at Birmingham or Sheffield, or both, since they
|
|
are still within its bounds, and their wealth and persons at its
|
|
command? Could the Goodwin Sands be laid dry by banks, and land
|
|
equal to a large country thereby gain'd to England, and presently
|
|
filled with English Inhabitants, would it be right to deprive such
|
|
Inhabitants of the common privileges enjoyed by other Englishmen, the
|
|
right of vending their produce in the same ports, or of making their
|
|
own shoes, because a merchant, or a shoemaker, living on the old
|
|
land, might fancy it more for his advantage to trade or make shoes
|
|
for them? Would this be right, even if the land were gained at the
|
|
expence of the state? And would it not seem less right, if the
|
|
charge and labour of gaining the additional territory to Britain had
|
|
been borne by the settlers themselves? And would not the hardship
|
|
appear yet greater, if the people of the new country should be
|
|
allowed no Representatives in the Parliament enacting such
|
|
impositions? Now I look on the Colonies as so many Counties gained
|
|
to Great Britain, and more advantageous to it than if they had been
|
|
gained out of the sea around its coasts, and joined to its land: For
|
|
being in different climates, they afford greater variety of produce,
|
|
and materials for more manufactures; and being separated by the
|
|
ocean, they increase much more its shipping and seamen; and since
|
|
they are all included in the British Empire, which has only extended
|
|
itself by their means; and the strength and wealth of the parts is
|
|
the strength and wealth of the whole; what imports it to the general
|
|
state, whether a merchant, a smith, or a hatter, grow rich in _Old_
|
|
or _New_ England? And if, through increase of people, two smiths are
|
|
wanted for one employed before, why may not the _new_ smith be
|
|
allowed to live and thrive in the _new Country_, as well as the _old_
|
|
one in the _Old_? In fine, why should the countenance of a state be
|
|
_partially_ afforded to its people, unless it be most in favour of
|
|
those, who have most merit? and if there be any difference, those,
|
|
who have most contributed to enlarge Britain's empire and commerce,
|
|
encrease her strength, her wealth, and the numbers of her people, at
|
|
the risque of their own lives and private fortunes in new and strange
|
|
countries, methinks ought rather to expect some preference.
|
|
|
|
"With the greatest respect and esteem I have the honour to be
|
|
Your Excellency's most obedient
|
|
and most humble servant."
|
|
|
|
_The London Chronicle_, February 8, 1766
|
|
|
|
_A Dialogue Between X, Y, and Z, Concerning the Present State
|
|
of Affairs in Pennsylvania_
|
|
|
|
_X_. Your Servant, Gentlemen; I am glad to see you at my House.
|
|
Is there any thing new To-day?
|
|
|
|
_Y_. We have been talking of the Militia Act; have you seen it?
|
|
|
|
_X_. Yes; I have read it in the Papers.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. And what do you think of it?
|
|
|
|
_X_. The more I consider it, the better I like it. It appears
|
|
to me a very good Act, and I am persuaded will be of good Use, if
|
|
heartily carried into Execution.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. Ay, that may be; but who is to carry it into Execution?
|
|
It says the People may form themselves into Companies, and chuse
|
|
their own Officers; but there is neither Time nor Place appointed for
|
|
this Transaction, nor any Person directed or impowered to call them
|
|
together.
|
|
|
|
_X_. 'Tis true; but methinks there are some Words that point
|
|
out the Method pretty plain to willing Minds. And it seems to me
|
|
that we who joined so sincerely in the Petitions for a Militia Law,
|
|
and really thought one so absolutely necessary for the Safety of our
|
|
Country, should, now we have obtained the Law, rather endeavour to
|
|
_explain_, than _invent_, Difficulties in the Construction of it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_Y_. What are those Words you mention?
|
|
|
|
_X_. Here is the Act itself, I'll read that Part of it. ``From
|
|
and after the Publication of this Act, it shall and may be lawful for
|
|
the Freemen of this Province to form themselves into Companies, _as
|
|
heretofore they have used in time of War without Law_, and for each
|
|
Company, by Majority of Votes, in the Way of Ballot, to chuse its own
|
|
Officers, _&c_." The Words I meant are these, _as heretofore they
|
|
have used in Time of War_. Now I suppose we have none of us forgot
|
|
the Association in the Time of the last War; 'tis not so long since,
|
|
but that we may well enough remember the Method we took to form
|
|
ourselves into Companies, chuse our Officers, and present them to the
|
|
Governor for Approbation and Commissions; and the Act in question
|
|
says plainly, we may now _lawfully do_ in this Affair, what we then
|
|
did _without Law_.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. I did not before take so much Notice of those Words, but
|
|
to be sure the Thing is easy enough; for I remember very well how we
|
|
managed at that Time; and indeed 'tis easier to effect it now than it
|
|
was then: For the Companies and Regiments, and their Districts, _&c_.
|
|
were then all to form and settle; but now, why may not the Officers
|
|
of the old Companies call the old Associators together, with such
|
|
others in the District of each Company as incline to be concerned,
|
|
and proceed immediately to a new Choice by Virtue of the Act? Other
|
|
new Companies may in other Places be formed as the associated
|
|
Companies were.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. You say right. And if this were all the Objection to the
|
|
Act, no Doubt they would do so immediately. But 'tis said there are
|
|
other Faults in it.
|
|
|
|
_X_. What are they?
|
|
|
|
_Z_. The Act is so loose, that Persons who never intend to
|
|
engage in the Militia, even _Quakers_ may meet and vote in the Choice
|
|
of the Officers.
|
|
|
|
_X_. Possibly; -- but was any such thing observed in the
|
|
Association Elections?
|
|
|
|
_Z_. Not that I remember.
|
|
|
|
_X_. Why should it be more apprehended now, than it was at that
|
|
Time? Can they have any Motives to such a Conduct now, which they
|
|
had not then?
|
|
|
|
_Z_. I cannot say.
|
|
|
|
|
|
_X_. Nor can I. If a Militia be necessary for the Safety of
|
|
the Province, I hope we shall not boggle at this little Difficulty.
|
|
What else is objected?
|
|
|
|
_Z_. I have heard this objected, That it were better the
|
|
Governor should appoint the Officers; for the Choice being in the
|
|
People, a Man very unworthy to be an Officer, may happen to be
|
|
popular enough to get himself chosen by the undiscerning Mob.
|
|
|
|
_X_. 'Tis possible. And if all Officers appointed by Governors
|
|
were always Men of Merit, and fully qualified for their Posts, it
|
|
would be wrong ever to hazard a popular Election. It is reasonable,
|
|
I allow, that the Commander in Chief should not have Officers
|
|
absolutely forced upon him, in whom, from his Knowledge of their
|
|
Incapacity, he can place no Confidence. And, on the other Hand, it
|
|
seems likely that the People will engage more readily in the Service,
|
|
and face Danger with more Intrepidity, when they are commanded by a
|
|
Man they know and esteem, and on whose Prudence and Courage, as well
|
|
as Good-will and Integrity, they can have Reliance, than they would
|
|
under a Man they either did not know, or did not like. For supposing
|
|
Governors ever so judicious and upright in the Distribution of
|
|
Offices, they cannot know every Body, in every Part of the Province,
|
|
and are liable to be imposed on by partial Recommendations; but the
|
|
People generally know their Neighbours. And to me, the Act in
|
|
question seems to have hit a proper Medium, between the two Modes of
|
|
appointing: The People chuse, and if the Governor approves, he grants
|
|
the Commission; if not, they are to chuse a second, and even a third
|
|
Time. Out of three Choices, 'tis probable one may be right; and
|
|
where an Officer is approved both by Superiors and Inferiors, there
|
|
is the greater Prospect of those Advantages that attend a good
|
|
Agreement in the Service. This Mode of Choice is moreover agreeable
|
|
to the Liberty and Genius of our Constitution. 'Tis similar to the
|
|
Manner in which by our Laws Sheriffs and Coroners are chosen and
|
|
approved. And yet it has more Regard to the Prerogative than the
|
|
Mode of Choice in some Colonies, where the military Officers are
|
|
either chosen absolutely by the Companies themselves, or by the House
|
|
of Representatives, without any Negative on that Choice, or any
|
|
Approbation necessary from the Governor.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. But is that agreeable to the _English_ Constitution?
|
|
|
|
_X_. Considered in this Light, I think it is; _British_
|
|
Subjects, by removing into _America_, cultivating a Wilderness,
|
|
extending the Dominion, and increasing the Wealth, Commerce and Power
|
|
of their Mother Country, at the Hazard of their Lives and Fortunes,
|
|
ought not, and in Fact do not thereby lose their native Rights.
|
|
There is a Power in the Crown to grant a Continuance of those Rights
|
|
to such Subjects, in any Part of the World, and to their Posterity
|
|
born in such new Country; and for the farther Encouragement and
|
|
Reward of such Merit, to grant _additional_ Liberties and Privileges,
|
|
not used in _England_, but suited to the different Circumstances of
|
|
different Colonies. If then the Grants of those additional Liberties
|
|
and Privileges may be regularly made under an _English_ Constitution,
|
|
they may be enjoyed agreeable to that Constitution.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. But the Act is very short, there are numberless
|
|
Circumstances and Occasions pertaining to a Body of armed Men, which
|
|
are not as they ought to have been expressly provided for in the Act.
|
|
|
|
_X_. 'Tis true, there are not express Provisions in the Act for
|
|
all Circumstances; but there is a Power lodged by the Act in the
|
|
Governor and Field Officers of the Regiments, to make all such
|
|
Provisions, in the Articles of War, which they may form and
|
|
establish.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. But can it be right in the Legislature by any Act to
|
|
delegate their Power of making Laws to others?
|
|
|
|
_X_. I believe not, generally; but certainly in particular
|
|
Cases it may. Legislatures may, and frequently do give to
|
|
Corporations, Power to make By-Laws for their own Government. And in
|
|
this Case, the Act of Parliament gives the Power of making Articles
|
|
of War for the Government of the Army to the King alone, and there is
|
|
no Doubt but the Parliament understand the Rights of Government.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. Are you sure the Act of Parliament gives such Power?
|
|
|
|
_X_. This is the Act. The Power I mention is here in Section
|
|
LV. "Provided always, That it shall and may be lawful to and for his
|
|
Majesty, to form, make and establish Articles of War for the better
|
|
Government of his Majesty's Forces, and for bringing Offenders
|
|
against the same to Justice; and to erect and constitute Courts
|
|
Martial, with Power to try, hear, and determine any Crimes or
|
|
Offences by such Articles of War, and inflict Penalties by Sentence
|
|
or Judgment of the same." And here you see bound up with the Act, the
|
|
Articles of War, made by his Majesty in Pursuance of the Act, and
|
|
providing for every Circumstance.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. It is so, sure enough. I had been told that our Act of
|
|
Assembly was impertinently singular in this Particular.
|
|
|
|
_X_. The G ------ r himself, in a Message to the House,
|
|
expresly recommended this Act of Parliament for their Imitation, in
|
|
forming the Militia Bill.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. I never heard that before.
|
|
|
|
_X_. But it is true. -- The Assembly, however (considering that
|
|
this Militia would consist chiefly of Freeholders) have varied a
|
|
little from that Part of the Act of Parliament, in Favour of Liberty;
|
|
they have not given the sole Power of making those Articles of War
|
|
_to the Governor_, as that Act does _to the King_; but have joined
|
|
with the Governor, for that Purpose, a Number of Officers to be
|
|
chosen by the People. The Articles moreover are not to be general
|
|
Laws, binding on all the Province, nor on any Man who has not first
|
|
approved of them, and voluntarily engaged to observe them.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. Is there no Danger that the Governor and Officers may make
|
|
those Articles too severe?
|
|
|
|
_X_. Not without you can suppose them Enemies to the Service,
|
|
and to their Country: For if they should make such as are unfit for
|
|
Freemen and _Englishmen_ to be subjected to, they will get no
|
|
Soldiers; no body will engage. In some Cases, however, if you and I
|
|
were in actual Service, I believe we should both think it necessary
|
|
for our own Safety that the Articles should be pretty severe.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. What Cases are they?
|
|
|
|
_X_. Suppose a Centinel should betray his Trust, give
|
|
Intelligence to the Enemy, or conduct them into our Quarters.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. To be sure there should be severe Punishments for such
|
|
Crimes, or we might all be ruined.
|
|
|
|
_X_. Chuse reasonable Men for your Officers, and you need not
|
|
fear their making reasonable Laws; and if they make such, I hope
|
|
reasonable Men will not refuse to engage under them.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. But here is a Thing I don't like. By this Act of
|
|
Assembly, the _Quakers_ are neither compelled to muster, nor to pay a
|
|
Fine if they don't.
|
|
|
|
_X_. It is true; nor could they be compelled either to muster
|
|
or pay a Fine of that Kind by any Militia Law made here. They are
|
|
exempted by the Charter and fundamental Laws of the Province.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. How so?
|
|
|
|
_X_. See here; it is the first Clause in the Charter. I'll
|
|
read it. "Because no People can be truly happy, though under the
|
|
greatest Enjoyment of civil Liberties, if abridged of the Freedom of
|
|
their Consciences, as to their _Religous Profession_ and Worship: And
|
|
Almighty God being the only Lord of Conscience, Father of Lights and
|
|
Spirits, and the Author as well as Object of all divine Knowledge,
|
|
Faith and Worship, who only doth enlighten the Minds, and persuade
|
|
and convince the Understandings of People, I do hereby grant and
|
|
declare, That no Person or Persons inhabiting in this Province or
|
|
Territories, who shall confess and acknowledge one Almighty God, the
|
|
Creator, Upholder and Ruler of the World; and profess him or
|
|
themselves obliged to live quietly under the civil Government, shall
|
|
be, IN ANY CASE, MOLESTED or PREJUDICED in his or their PERSON or
|
|
ESTATE, because of his or their _conscientious Persuasion_ or
|
|
Practice, nor be compelled to frequent or maintain any religious
|
|
Worship, Place or Ministry, contrary to his or their Mind, or to DO
|
|
or SUFFER any OTHER ACT or THING, contrary to their religious
|
|
Persuasion." And in the eighth Section of the same Charter, you see a
|
|
Declaration, that "neither the Proprietor, nor his Heirs or Assigns,
|
|
shall procure or do any Thing or Things, whereby the Liberties in
|
|
this Charter contained or expressed, nor any Part thereof, shall be
|
|
infringed or broken; and if any Thing shall be procured or done by
|
|
_any Person or Persons_, contrary to these Presents, it shall be held
|
|
of NO FORCE OR EFFECT." This Liberty of Conscience granted by
|
|
Charter, is also established by the first Law in our Book, and
|
|
confirmed by the Crown. -- And moreover, the Governor has an express
|
|
Instruction from the Proprietaries, that in case of making any
|
|
Militia Law, he shall take especial Care that the Charter be not
|
|
infringed in this Respect. Besides, most of our Petitions for a
|
|
Militia from the moderate Part of the People, requested particularly
|
|
that due Regard might be had to scrupulous and tender Consciences.
|
|
When Taxes are raised however, for the King's Service, the _Quakers_
|
|
and _Menonists_ pay their Part of them, and a great Part; for as
|
|
their Frugality and Industry makes them generally wealthy, their
|
|
Proportion is the greater compared with their Numbers. And out of
|
|
these Taxes those Men are paid who go into actual Service. As for
|
|
Mustering and Training, no Militia are any where paid for that. It
|
|
is by many justly delighted in as a manly Exercise. But those who
|
|
are engaged in actual Service for any Time, ought undoubtedly to have
|
|
Pay.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. There is no Provision in this Militia Act to pay them.
|
|
|
|
_X_. There is a Provision that no Regiment, Company, or Party,
|
|
though engaged in the Militia, shall be obliged "to more than three
|
|
Days March, _&c_. without an Express Engagement for that Purpose
|
|
first voluntarily entred into and subscribed by every Man so to march
|
|
or remain in Garrison." And 'tis to be supposed that no Man will
|
|
subscribe such particular Engagement without reasonable Pay, or other
|
|
Encouragement.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. But where is that Pay to come from?
|
|
|
|
_X_. From the Government to be sure; and out of the Money
|
|
struck by the Act for granting pounds 60,000.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. Yes; but those who serve must pay their Share of the Tax,
|
|
as well as those who don't.
|
|
|
|
_X_. Perhaps not. 'Tis to be supposed that those who engage in
|
|
the Service for any Time, upon Pay, will be chiefly single Men, and
|
|
they are expresly exempted from the Tax by the 60,000 pounds Act.
|
|
Consequently those who do not serve, must pay the more; for the Sum
|
|
granted must be made up.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. I never heard before that they were exempted by that Act.
|
|
|
|
_X_. It is so, I assure you.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. But there is no Provision in the Militia Act for the
|
|
Maimed.
|
|
|
|
_X_. If they are poor, they are provided for by the Laws of
|
|
their Country. There is no other Provision by any Militia Law that I
|
|
know of. If they have behaved well, and suffered in their Country's
|
|
Cause, they deserve moreover some grateful Notice of their Service,
|
|
and some Assistance from the common Treasury; and if any particular
|
|
Township should happen to be overburthened, they may, on Application
|
|
to the Government, reasonably expect Relief.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. Though the _Quakers_ and others conscientiously scrupulous
|
|
of bearing Arms, are exempted, as you say, by Charter; they might,
|
|
being a Majority in the Assembly, have made the Law compulsory on
|
|
others. At present, 'tis so loose, that no body is obliged by it,
|
|
who does not voluntarily engage.
|
|
|
|
_X_. They might indeed have made the Law compulsory on all
|
|
others. But it seems they thought it more equitable and generous to
|
|
leave to all as much Liberty as they enjoy themselves, and not lay
|
|
even a seeming Hardship on others, which they themselves declined to
|
|
bear. They have however granted all we asked of them. Our Petitions
|
|
set forth, that "we were freely willing and ready to defend ourselves
|
|
and Country, and all we wanted was legal Authority, Order and
|
|
Discipline." These are now afforded by the Law, if we think fit to
|
|
make use of them. And indeed I do not see the Advantage of
|
|
compelling People of any Sect into martial Service merely for the
|
|
Sake of raising Numbers. I have been myself in some Service of
|
|
Danger, and I always thought Cowards rather _weakened_, than
|
|
_strengthened_, the Party. Fear is contagious, and a Pannick once
|
|
begun spreads like Wildfire, and infects the stoutest Heart. All Men
|
|
are not by Nature brave: And a few who are so, will do more effectual
|
|
Service by themselves, than when accompanied by, and mixed with, a
|
|
Multitude of Poltroons, who only create Confusion, and give Advantage
|
|
to the Enemy.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. What signifies what _you thought_ or think? Others think
|
|
differently. And all the wise Legislatures in the other Colonies
|
|
have thought fit to compel all Sorts of Persons to bear Arms, or
|
|
suffer heavy Penalties.
|
|
|
|
_X_. As you say, what I _thought_ or _think_ is not of much
|
|
Consequence. But a wiser Legislator than all those you mention put
|
|
together, and who better knew the Nature of Mankind, made his
|
|
military Law very different from theirs in that Respect.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. What Legislator do you mean?
|
|
|
|
|
|
_X_. I mean God himself, who would have no Man led to Battle
|
|
that might rather wish to be at home, either from Fear or other
|
|
Causes.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. Where do you find that Law?
|
|
|
|
_X_. 'Tis in the 20th Chapter of _Deuteronomy_, where are these
|
|
Words, _When thou goest out to Battle against thine Enemies,_ -- _the
|
|
Officers shall speak unto the People, saying, What Man is there that
|
|
hath built a new House, and hath not dedicated it? let him go and
|
|
return to his House, lest he die in the Battle, and another Man
|
|
dedicate it. And what Man is he that hath planted a Vineyard, and
|
|
hath not yet eaten of it? let him also go, and return unto his House,
|
|
lest he die in the Battle, and another Man eat of it. And what Man
|
|
is there that hath betrothed a Wife, and hath not taken her? let him
|
|
go and return unto his House, lest he die in Battle, and another Man
|
|
take her_. -- _And_ --
|
|
|
|
_Z_. These all together could not be many; and this has no
|
|
Relation to Cowardice.
|
|
|
|
_X_. If you had not interrupted me, I was coming to that Part,
|
|
Verse 8. _And the Officers shall speak farther unto the People, and
|
|
they shall say, What Man is there that is_ FEARFUL _and_
|
|
FAINTHEARTED? let him go and return unto his House; lest his
|
|
Brethrens Heart faint as well as his Heart;_ that is, lest he
|
|
communicate his Fears, and his brave Brethren catch the Contagion, to
|
|
the Ruin of the whole Army. Accordingly we find, that under this
|
|
military Law, no People in the World fought more gallantly, or
|
|
performed greater Actions than the _Hebrew_ Soldiery. -- And if you
|
|
would be informed what Proportion of the People would be discharged
|
|
by such a Proclamation, you will find that Matter determined by an
|
|
actual Experiment made by General _Gideon_, as related in the seventh
|
|
Chapter of _Judges_: For he having assembled 32,000 Men against the
|
|
_Midianites_, proclaimed, according to Law (Verse the third)
|
|
_Whosoever is_ FEARFUL _and_ AFRAID, _let him return and depart early
|
|
from_ Mount Gilead.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. And pray how many departed?
|
|
|
|
_X_. The Text says, there departed 22,000, and there remained
|
|
but 10,000. A very great Sifting! and yet on that particular
|
|
Occasion a farther Sifting was required. Now it seems to me, that
|
|
this Militia Law of ours, which gives the Brave all the Advantages
|
|
they can desire, of Order, Authority, Discipline, and the like, and
|
|
compels no Cowards into their Company, is such a Kind of Sieve, as
|
|
the _Mosaic_ Proclamation. For with us, not only every Man who has
|
|
built a House, or planted a Vineyard, or betrothed a Wife, or is
|
|
afraid of his Flesh; but the narrow Bigot, filled with _Sectarian_
|
|
Malice (if such there be) who hates _Quakers_ more than he loves his
|
|
Country, his Friends, his Wife or Family, may say: _I won't engage,
|
|
for I don't like the Act;_ or, _I don't like the Officers that are
|
|
chosen;_ or, _I don't like the Articles of War;_ and so we shall not
|
|
be troubled with them, but all that engage will be hearty.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. For my Part, I am no Coward; but hang me if I'll fight to
|
|
save the _Quakers_.
|
|
|
|
_X_. That is to say, you won't pump Ship, because 'twill save
|
|
the Rats, -- as well as yourself.
|
|
|
|
_Y_. You have answered most of the Objections I have heard
|
|
against the Act, to my Satisfaction; but there is one remaining. The
|
|
Method of carrying it into Execution seems so round about, I am
|
|
afraid we cannot have the Benefit of it in any reasonable Time.
|
|
|
|
_X_. I cannot see much in that Objection. The several
|
|
Neighbourhoods out of which Companies are formed may meet and chuse
|
|
their Company-Officers in one and the same Day; and the Regiments may
|
|
be formed, and the Field Officers chosen in a Week or ten Days after,
|
|
who may immediately proceed to consider the several Militia Laws of
|
|
_Britain_ and the Colonies, and (with the Governor) form out of them
|
|
such Articles, as will appear most suitable for the Freemen of this
|
|
Province, who incline to bear Arms voluntarily; and the Whole may be
|
|
in Order in a Month from the first Elections, if common Diligence be
|
|
used. -- And indeed, as the Colonies are at present the Prize
|
|
contended for between _Britain_ and _France_, and the latter, by the
|
|
last Advices, seems to be meditating some grand Blow, Part of which
|
|
may probably fall on _Pennsylvania_, either by Land or Sea, or both,
|
|
it behoves us, I think, to make the best Use we can of this Act, and
|
|
carry it immediately into Execution both in Town and Country. If
|
|
there are material Defects in it, Experience will best discover them,
|
|
and show what is proper or necessary to amend them. -- The
|
|
approaching Winter will afford us some Time to arm and prepare, and
|
|
more Leisure than other Seasons for Exercising and Improving in good
|
|
Discipline.
|
|
|
|
_Z_. But if this Act should be carried into Execution, prove a
|
|
good One, and answer the End; what shall we have to say against the
|
|
_Quakers_ at the next Election?
|
|
|
|
_X_. O my Friends, let us on this Occasion cast from us all
|
|
these little Party Views, and consider ourselves as _Englishmen_ and
|
|
_Pennsylvanians_. Let us think only of the Service of our King, the
|
|
Honour and Safety of our Country, and Vengeance on its Murdering
|
|
Enemies. -- If Good be done, what imports it by whom 'tis done? --
|
|
The Glory of serving and saving others, is superior to the Advantage
|
|
of being served or secured. Let us resolutely and generously unite
|
|
in our Country's Cause (in which to die is the sweetest of all
|
|
Deaths) and may the God of Armies bless our honest Endeavours.
|
|
|
|
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, December 18, 1755
|
|
|
|
|
|
_A Parable Against Persecution_
|
|
|
|
CHAP. XXVII
|
|
|
|
1. And it came to pass after these Things, that Abraham sat in
|
|
the Door of his Tent, about the going down of the Sun.
|
|
|
|
2. And behold a Man, bowed with Age, came from the Way of the
|
|
Wilderness, leaning on a Staff.
|
|
|
|
3. And Abraham arose and met him, and said unto him, Turn in, I
|
|
pray thee, and wash thy Feet, and tarry all Night, and thou shalt
|
|
arise early on the Morrow, and go on thy Way.
|
|
|
|
4. And the Man said, Nay, for I will abide under this Tree.
|
|
|
|
5. But Abraham pressed him greatly; so he turned, and they went
|
|
into the Tent; and Abraham baked unleavend Bread, and they did eat.
|
|
|
|
6. And when Abraham saw that the Man blessed not God, he said
|
|
unto him, Wherefore dost thou not worship the most high God, Creator
|
|
of Heaven and Earth?
|
|
|
|
7. And the Man answered and said, I do not worship the God thou
|
|
speakest of; neither do I call upon his Name; for I have made to
|
|
myself a God, which abideth alway in mine House, and provideth me
|
|
with all Things.
|
|
|
|
8. And Abraham's Zeal was kindled against the Man; and he
|
|
arose, and fell upon him, and drove him forth with Blows into the
|
|
Wilderness.
|
|
|
|
9. And at Midnight God called unto Abraham, saying, Abraham,
|
|
where is the Stranger?
|
|
|
|
10. And Abraham answered and said, Lord, he would not worship
|
|
thee, neither would he call upon thy Name; therefore have I driven
|
|
him out from before my Face into the Wilderness.
|
|
|
|
11. And God said, Have I born with him these hundred ninety and
|
|
eight Years, and nourished him, and cloathed him, notwithstanding his
|
|
Rebellion against me, and couldst not thou, that art thyself a
|
|
Sinner, bear with him one Night?
|
|
|
|
12. And Abraham said, Let not the Anger of my Lord wax hot
|
|
against his Servant. Lo, I have sinned; forgive me, I pray Thee:
|
|
|
|
13. And Abraham arose and went forth into the Wilderness, and
|
|
sought diligently for the Man, and found him, and returned with him
|
|
to his Tent; and when he had entreated him kindly, he sent him away
|
|
on the Morrow with Gifts.
|
|
|
|
14. And God spake again unto Abraham, saying, For this thy Sin
|
|
shall thy Seed be afflicted four Hundred Years in a strange Land:
|
|
|
|
15. But for thy Repentance will I deliver them; and they shall
|
|
come forth with Power, and with Gladness of Heart, and with much
|
|
Substance.
|
|
|
|
1755
|
|
|
|
|
|
_A Parable on Brotherly Love_
|
|
|
|
1 In those days there was no Worker of Iron in all the Land,
|
|
And the Merchants of Midian passed by with their Camels, bearing
|
|
Spices, and Myrrh, and Balm, and Wares of Iron. And Reuben bought an
|
|
Ax from the Ishmaelite Merchants, which he prized highly, for there
|
|
were none in his Father's house.
|
|
|
|
2 And Simeon said unto Reuben his Brother, lend me I pray thee,
|
|
thine Ax: But he refused, and would not.
|
|
|
|
3 And Levi also said unto him, My Brother, lend me thine Ax.
|
|
And he refused him also.
|
|
|
|
4 Then came Judah unto Reuben and entreated him, saying, Lo,
|
|
thou lovest me, and I have always loved thee do not refuse me the use
|
|
of thine Ax, for I desire it earnestly.
|
|
|
|
5 But Reuben turned from him, and refused him Like-wise.
|
|
|
|
6 Now it came to pass that Reuben hewed Timber on the Bank of
|
|
the River, and the Ax fell therein, and he could by no means find it.
|
|
|
|
7 But Simeon, Levi and Judah, had sent a Mesenger after the
|
|
Ishmaelites with money and had bought for each of them an Ax also.
|
|
|
|
8 Then came Reuben unto Simeon, and said unto him, Lo, I have
|
|
lost mine Ax, and my work is unfinished, lend me thine I pray thee.
|
|
|
|
9 And Simeon answered, saying, Thou wouldst not lend me thine
|
|
Ax, therefore will I not lend thee mine.
|
|
|
|
10 Then went he unto Levi, and said unto him, My Brother, thou
|
|
knowest my Loss and my Necessity; lend me, I pray thee, thine Ax.
|
|
|
|
11 And Levi reproached him, saying, Thou wouldest not lend me
|
|
thine when I desired it, but I will be better than thee, and will
|
|
lend thee mine.
|
|
|
|
12 And Reuben was grieved at the Rebuke of Levi; and being
|
|
ashamed, turned from him, and took not the Ax; but sought his Brother
|
|
Judah.
|
|
|
|
13 And as he drew near, Judah beheld his Countenance as it were
|
|
confused with Grief and shame; and he prevented him, saying, My
|
|
Brother, I know thy Loss, but why should it grieve thee? Lo, have I
|
|
not an Ax that will serve both thee and me? take it I pray thee, and
|
|
use it as thine own.
|
|
|
|
14 And Reuben fell on his Neck, and kissed him with Tears,
|
|
saying, Thy Kindness is great, but thy Goodness in forgiving me is
|
|
greater. Lo thou art indeed a Brother, and whilst I live will I
|
|
surely love thee.
|
|
|
|
|
|
15 And Judah said, Let us also love our other Brethren; Behold,
|
|
are we not all of one Blood.
|
|
|
|
16 And Joseph saw these Things, and reported them to his Father
|
|
Jacob.
|
|
|
|
17 And Jacob said, Reuben did wrong but he repented, Simeon
|
|
also did wrong, and Levi was not altogether blameless.
|
|
|
|
18 But the Heart of Judah is princely. Judah hath the Soul of
|
|
a King. His Fathers Children shall bow down before him, and he shall
|
|
rule over his Brethren, nor shall the Sceptre depart from his house,
|
|
nor a Lawgiver from between his Feet, until Shiloh come.
|
|
|
|
1755
|
|
|
|
|
|
LETTERS
|
|
|
|
"I CONCLUDED TO SEND YOU A SPINNING WHEEL"
|
|
|
|
_To Jane Franklin_
|
|
|
|
DEAR SISTER, _Philadelphia, January_ 6, 1726-7.
|
|
I am highly pleased with the account captain Freeman gives me
|
|
of you. I always judged by your behaviour when a child that you
|
|
would make a good, agreeable woman, and you know you were ever my
|
|
peculiar favourite. I have been thinking what would be a suitable
|
|
present for me to make, and for you to receive, as I hear you are
|
|
grown a celebrated beauty. I had almost determined on a tea table,
|
|
but when I considered that the character of a good housewife was far
|
|
preferable to that of being only a pretty gentlewoman, I concluded to
|
|
send you a _spinning wheel_, which I hope you will accept as a small
|
|
token of my sincere love and affection.
|
|
|
|
Sister, farewell, and remember that modesty, as it makes the
|
|
most homely virgin amiable and charming, so the want of it infallibly
|
|
renders the most perfect beauty disagreeable and odious. But when
|
|
that brightest of female virtues shines among other perfections of
|
|
body and mind in the same person, it makes the woman more lovely than
|
|
an angel. Excuse this freedom, and use the same with me. I am, dear
|
|
Jenny, your loving brother,
|
|
|
|
"TOO SEVERE UPON HOBBES"
|
|
|
|
_To James Logan_
|
|
|
|
Having read the Chapter on Moral Good or Virtue, with all the
|
|
Attention I am Capable of, amidst the many little Cares that
|
|
Continually infest me, I shall, as the Author Condescends to desire,
|
|
give my Opinion of it, and that with all Sincerity and Freedom,
|
|
neither apprehending the Imputation of Flattery on the one hand, nor
|
|
that of Ill Manners on the other.
|
|
|
|
I think the Design excellent -- and the Management of it in the
|
|
Main, good; a short Summary of the Chapter plac'd at the Beginning,
|
|
and little Summaries of each Paragraph in the Margin being only
|
|
necessary, and what will in my Opinion sufficiently remove any
|
|
Disgust that the Authors dilate Manner of Writing may give to some
|
|
Readers; And the whole is so curious and entertaining, that I know
|
|
not where any thing can be spared.
|
|
|
|
It seems to me that the Author is a little too severe upon
|
|
Hobbes, whose Notion, I imagine, is somewhat nearer the Truth than
|
|
that which makes the State of Nature a State of Love: But the Truth
|
|
perhaps lies between both Extreams.
|
|
|
|
I think what is said upon Musick, might be enlarg'd to
|
|
Advantage by showing that what principally makes a Tune agreeable, is
|
|
the Conformity between its Air or Genius, and some Motion, Passion or
|
|
Affection of the Mind, which the Tune imitates.
|
|
|
|
I should have been glad to have seen the Virtues enumerated,
|
|
distinguish'd, and the proper Ideas affix'd to each Name; which I
|
|
have not yet seen, scarce two Authors agreeing therein, some annexing
|
|
more, others fewer and different Ideas to the Same Name. But I think
|
|
there is some Incorrectness of Sentiment in what the Author has said
|
|
of Temperance concerning which I have not time to explain myself in
|
|
writing.
|
|
|
|
1737?
|
|
|
|
|
|
"OPINIONS SHOULD BE JUDG'D OF BY THEIR INFLUENCES"
|
|
|
|
_To Josiah and Abiah Franklin_
|
|
|
|
Honour'd Father and Mother April 13. 1738
|
|
I have your Favour of the 21st of March in which you both seem
|
|
concern'd lest I have imbib'd some erroneous Opinions. Doubtless I
|
|
have my Share, and when the natural Weakness and Imperfection of
|
|
Human Understanding is considered, with the unavoidable Influences of
|
|
Education, Custom, Books and Company, upon our Ways of thinking, I
|
|
imagine a Man must have a good deal of Vanity who believes, and a
|
|
good deal of Boldness who affirms, that all the Doctrines he holds,
|
|
are true; and all he rejects, are false. And perhaps the same may be
|
|
justly said of every Sect, Church and Society of men when they assume
|
|
to themselves that Infallibility which they deny to the Popes and
|
|
Councils. I think Opinions should be judg'd of by their Influences
|
|
and Effects; and if a Man holds none that tend to make him less
|
|
Virtuous or more vicious, it may be concluded he holds none that are
|
|
dangerous; which I hope is the Case with me. I am sorry you should
|
|
have any Uneasiness on my Account, and if it were a thing possible
|
|
for one to alter his Opinions in order to please others, I know none
|
|
whom I ought more willingly to oblige in that respect than your
|
|
selves: But since it is no more in a Man's Power _to think_ than _to
|
|
look_ like another, methinks all that should be expected from me is
|
|
to keep my Mind open to Conviction, to hear patiently and examine
|
|
attentively whatever is offered me for that end; and if after all I
|
|
continue in the same Errors, I believe your usual Charity will induce
|
|
you rather to pity and excuse than blame me. In the mean time your
|
|
Care and Concern for me is what I am very thankful for.
|
|
|
|
As to the Freemasons, unless she will believe me when I assure
|
|
her that they are in general a very harmless sort of People; and have
|
|
no principles or Practices that are inconsistent with Religion or
|
|
good Manners, I know no Way of giving my Mother a better Opinion of
|
|
them than she seems to have at present, (since it is not allow'd that
|
|
Women should be admitted into that secret Society). She has, I must
|
|
confess, on that Account, some reason to be displeas'd with it; but
|
|
for any thing else, I must entreat her to suspend her Judgment till
|
|
she is better inform'd, and in the mean time exercise her Charity.
|
|
|
|
My Mother grieves that one of her Sons is an Arian, another an
|
|
Arminian. What an Arminian or an Arian is, I cannot say that I very
|
|
well know; the Truth is, I make such Distinctions very little my
|
|
Study; I think vital Religion has always suffer'd, when Orthodoxy is
|
|
more regarded than Virtue. And the Scripture assures me, that at the
|
|
last Day, we shall not be examin'd what we _thought_, but what we
|
|
_did_; and our Recommendation will not be that we said _Lord, Lord_,
|
|
but that we did GOOD to our Fellow Creatures. See Matth. 26.
|
|
|
|
We have had great Rains here lately, which with the Thawing of
|
|
Snow in the Mountains back of our Country has made vast Floods in our
|
|
Rivers, and by carrying away Bridges, Boats, &c. made travelling
|
|
almost impracticable for a Week past, so that our Post has entirely
|
|
mist making one Trip.
|
|
|
|
I know nothing of Dr. Crook, nor can I learn that any such
|
|
Person has ever been here.
|
|
|
|
I hope my Sister Janey's Child is by this time recovered. I am
|
|
Your dutiful Son
|
|
|
|
READING JONATHAN EDWARDS
|
|
|
|
_To Jane Mecom_
|
|
|
|
Dearest Sister Jenny Philada. July 28. 1743
|
|
I took your Admonition very kindly, and was far from being
|
|
offended at you for it. If I say any thing about it to you, 'tis
|
|
only to rectify some wrong Opinions you seem to have entertain'd of
|
|
me, and that I do only because they give you some Uneasiness, which I
|
|
am unwilling to be the Occasion of. You express yourself as if you
|
|
thought I was against Worshipping of God, and believed Good Works
|
|
would merit Heaven; which are both Fancies of your own, I think,
|
|
without Foundation. I am so far from thinking that God is not to be
|
|
worshipped, that I have compos'd and wrote a whole Book of Devotions
|
|
for my own Use: And I imagine there are few, if any, in the World, so
|
|
weake as to imagine, that the little Good we can do here, can _merit_
|
|
so vast a Reward hereafter. There are some Things in your New
|
|
England Doctrines and Worship, which I do not agree with, but I do
|
|
not therefore condemn them, or desire to shake your Belief or
|
|
Practice of them. We may dislike things that are nevertheless right
|
|
in themselves. I would only have you make me the same Allowances,
|
|
and have a better Opinion both of Morality and your Brother. Read
|
|
the Pages of Mr. Edward's late Book entitled SOME THOUGHTS CONCERNING
|
|
THE PRESENT REVIVAL OF RELIGION IN NE. from 367 to 375; and when you
|
|
judge of others, if you can perceive the Fruit to be good, don't
|
|
terrify your self that the Tree may be evil, but be assur'd it is not
|
|
so; for you know who has said, _Men do not gather Grapes of Thorns or
|
|
Figs of Thistles._ I have not time to add but that I shall always be
|
|
Your affectionate Brother
|
|
|
|
P S. It was not kind in you to imagine when your Sister
|
|
commended Good Works, she intended it a Reproach to you. 'Twas very
|
|
far from her Thoughts.
|
|
|
|
"MORE DEPENDENCE ON WORKS, THAN ON FAITH"
|
|
|
|
_To John Franklin_
|
|
|
|
Philadelphia, 1745.
|
|
-- Our people are extremely impatient to hear of your success
|
|
at Cape Breton. My shop is filled with thirty inquiries at the
|
|
coming in of every post. Some wonder the place is not yet taken. I
|
|
tell them I shall be glad to hear that news three months hence.
|
|
Fortified towns are hard nuts to crack; and your teeth have not been
|
|
accustomed to it. Taking strong places is a particular trade, which
|
|
you have taken up without serving an apprenticeship to it. Armies
|
|
and veterans need skilful engineers to direct them in their attack.
|
|
Have you any? But some seem to think forts are as easy taken as
|
|
snuff. Father Moody's prayers look tolerably modest. You have a
|
|
fast and prayer day for that purpose; in which I compute five hundred
|
|
thousand petitions were offered up to the same effect in New England,
|
|
which added to the petitions of every family morning and evening,
|
|
multiplied by the number of days since January 25th, make forty-five
|
|
millions of prayers; which, set against the prayers of a few priests
|
|
in the garrison, to the Virgin Mary, give a vast balance in your
|
|
favor.
|
|
|
|
If you do not succeed, I fear I shall have but an indifferent
|
|
opinion of Presbyterian prayers in such cases, as long as I live.
|
|
Indeed, in attacking strong towns I should have more dependence on
|
|
_works_, than on _faith_; for, like the kingdom of heaven, they are
|
|
to be taken by force and violence; and in a French garrison I suppose
|
|
there are devils of that kind, that they are not to be cast out by
|
|
prayers and fasting, unless it be by their own fasting for want of
|
|
provisions. I believe there is Scripture in what I have wrote, but I
|
|
cannot adorn the margin with quotations, having a bad memory, and no
|
|
Concordance at hand; besides no more time than to subscribe myself,
|
|
&c.
|
|
|
|
May? 1745
|
|
|
|
|
|
"ALL WIVES ARE IN THE RIGHT"
|
|
|
|
_To James Read_
|
|
|
|
DEAR J ------ , _Saturday morning, Aug. 17. '45.
|
|
I have been reading your letter over again, and since you
|
|
desire an answer, I sit me down to write you one; yet, as I write in
|
|
the market, will, I believe, be but a short one, tho' I may be long
|
|
about it. I approve of your method of writing one's mind, when one
|
|
is too warm to speak it with temper: but being myself quite cool in
|
|
this affair, I might as well speak as write, if I had an opportunity.
|
|
Your copy of _Kempis_, must be a corrupt one, if it has that passage
|
|
as you quote it, _in omnibus requiem quaesivi, sed non inveni, nisi
|
|
in angulo cum libello_. The good father understood pleasure
|
|
(requiem) better, and wrote, _in angulo cum puella_. Correct it
|
|
thus, without hesitation. I know there is another reading, _in
|
|
angulo puellae_; but this reject, tho' more _to the point_, as an
|
|
expression too indelicate.
|
|
|
|
Are you an attorney by profession, and do you know no better,
|
|
how to chuse a proper court in which to bring your action? Would you
|
|
submit to the decision of a husband, a cause between you and his
|
|
wife? Don't you know, that all wives are in the right? It may be
|
|
you don't, for you are yet but a young husband. But see, on this
|
|
head, the learned Coke, that oracle of the law, in his chapter _De
|
|
Jus Marit. Angl_. I advise you not to bring it to trial; for if you
|
|
do, you'll certainly be cast.
|
|
|
|
Frequent interruptions make it impossible for me to go thro'
|
|
all your letter. I have only time to remind you of the saying of
|
|
that excellent old philosopher, Socrates, _that in differences among
|
|
friends, they that make the first concessions are the_ WISEST; and to
|
|
hint to you, that you are in danger of losing that honour in the
|
|
present case, if you are not very speedy in your acknowledgments;
|
|
which I persuade myself you will be, when you consider the sex of
|
|
your adversary.
|
|
|
|
Your visits never had but one thing disagreeable in them, that
|
|
is, they were always too short. I shall exceedingly regret the loss
|
|
of them, unless you continue, as you have begun, to make it up to me
|
|
by long letters. I am dear J ------ , with sincerest love to our
|
|
dearest Suky,
|
|
Your very affectionate friend and cousin,
|
|
|
|
|
|
ATLANTIC SHIP CROSSINGS AND THE MOTION OF THE EARTH
|
|
|
|
_To Cadwallader Colden_
|
|
|
|
Sir
|
|
I receiv'd yours with others enclos'd for Mr. Bertram and Mr.
|
|
Armit, to which I suppose the enclos'd are Answers. The Person who
|
|
brought yours said he would call for Answers, but did not; or, if he
|
|
did, I did not see him.
|
|
|
|
I understand Parker has begun upon your Piece. A long Sitting
|
|
of our Assembly has hitherto hinder'd me from beginning the
|
|
Miscellany. I shall write to Dr. Gronovius as you desire.
|
|
|
|
I wish I had Mathematics enough to satisfy my self, Whether the
|
|
much shorter Voyages made by Ships bound hence to England, than by
|
|
those from England hither, are not in some Degree owing to the
|
|
Diurnal Motion of the Earth; and if so, in what Degree? 'Tis a
|
|
Notion that has lately entred my Mind; I know not if ever any
|
|
other's. Ships in a Calm at the Equator move with the Sea 15 Miles
|
|
per minute; at our Capes suppose 12 Miles per Minute; in the British
|
|
Channel suppose 10 Miles per Minute: Here is a Difference of 2 Miles
|
|
Velocity per Minute between Cape Hinlopen and the Lizard! no small
|
|
Matter in so Weighty a Body as a laden Ship swimming in a Fluid! How
|
|
is this Velocity lost in the Voyage thither, if not by the Resistance
|
|
of the Water? and if so, then the Water, which resisted in part, must
|
|
have given Way in part to the Ship, from time to time as she
|
|
proceeded continually out of Parallels of Latitude where the Earths
|
|
Motion or Rotation was quicker into others where it was slower. And
|
|
thus as her Velocity tends eastward with the Earth's Motion, she
|
|
perhaps makes her Easting sooner. Suppose a Vessel lying still in a
|
|
Calm at our Cape, could be taken up and the same Instant set down in
|
|
an equal Calm in the English Channel, would not the Difference of
|
|
Velocity between her and the Sea she was plac'd in, appear plainly by
|
|
a violent Motion of the Ship thro' the Water eastward? I have not
|
|
Time to explain my self farther, the Post waiting, but believe have
|
|
said enough for you to comprehend my Meaning. If the Reasons hinted
|
|
at should encline you to think there is any Thing in this Notion, I
|
|
should be glad of an Answer to this Question, (if it be capable of a
|
|
precise Answer) viz.
|
|
|
|
Suppose a Ship sails on a N. East Line from Lat. 39 to Lat. 52
|
|
in 30 Days, how long will she be returning on the same Line, Winds,
|
|
Currents, &c. being equal?
|
|
|
|
Just so much as the East Motion of the Earth helps her Easting,
|
|
I suppose it will hinder her Westing.
|
|
|
|
Perhaps the Weight and Dimensions or Shape of the Vessel should
|
|
be taken into the Consideration, as the Water resists Bodies of
|
|
different Shapes differently.
|
|
|
|
I must beg you to excuse the incorrectness of this Scrawl as I
|
|
have not time to transcribe. I am Sir Your most humble Servant
|
|
|
|
February, 1746
|
|
|
|
REFUTATION OF ANDREW BAXTER'S "ENQUIRY INTO THE NATURE OF THE
|
|
HUMAN SOUL"
|
|
|
|
_To [Thomas Hopkinson?]_
|
|
|
|
According to my Promise I send you _in Writing_ my Observations
|
|
on your Book. You will be the better able to consider them; which I
|
|
desire you to do at your Leisure, and to set me right where I am
|
|
wrong.
|
|
|
|
I stumble at the Threshold of the Building, and therefore have
|
|
not read farther. The Author's _Vis Inertiae essential to_ _Matter_,
|
|
upon which the whole Work is founded, I have not been able to
|
|
comprehend. And I do not think he demonstrates at all clearly (at
|
|
least to me he does not) that there is really any such Property in
|
|
Matter.
|
|
|
|
He says, No. 2. "Let a given Body or Mass of Matter be called
|
|
A, and let any given Celerity be called C: That Celerity doubled,
|
|
tripled, &c. or halved, thirded, &c. will be 2C, 3C &c. or 1/2 C, 1/3
|
|
C &c. respectively. Also the Body doubled, tripled or halved,
|
|
thirded; will be 2A, 3A, or 1/2 A, 1/2 A, respectively." Thus far is
|
|
clear. But he adds, "Now to move the Body A with the Celerity C,
|
|
requires a certain Force to be impressed upon it; and to move it with
|
|
a Celerity as 2C, requires twice that Force to be impressed upon it,
|
|
&c." Here I suspect some Mistake creeps in occasioned by the Author's
|
|
not distinguishing between a _great_ Force apply'd _at once_, and a
|
|
_small_ one _continually_ apply'd, to a Mass of Matter, in order to
|
|
move it. I think 'tis generally allow'd by the Philosophers, and for
|
|
aught we know is certainly true, That there is no Mass of Matter how
|
|
great soever, but may be moved by any Force how small soever (taking
|
|
Friction out of the Question) and this small Force continued will in
|
|
Time bring the Mass to move with any Velocity whatsoever. Our Author
|
|
himself seems to allow this towards the End of the same No. 2 when he
|
|
is subdividing his Celerities and Forces: For as in continuing the
|
|
Division to Eternity by his Method of 1/2 C, 1\3 C, 1/4 C, 1\5 C, &c.
|
|
you can never come to a Fraction of Celerity that is equal to 0C, or
|
|
no Celerity at all; so dividing the Force in the same Manner, you can
|
|
never come to a Fraction of Force that will not produce an equal
|
|
Fraction of Celerity. Where then is the mighty _Vis Inertiae,_ and
|
|
what is its Strength when the greatest assignable Mass of Matter will
|
|
give way to or be moved by the least assignable Force? Suppose two
|
|
Globes each equal to the Sun and to one another, exactly equipoised
|
|
in Jove's Ballance: Suppose no Friction in the Center of Motion in
|
|
the Beam or elsewhere: If a Musketo then were to light on one of
|
|
them, would he not give Motion to them both, causing one to descend
|
|
and the other to rise? If 'tis objected, that the Force of Gravity
|
|
helps one Globe to descend: I answer, The same Force opposes the
|
|
other's Rising: Here is an Equality, that leaves the whole Motion to
|
|
be produc'd by the Musketo, without whom those Globes would not be
|
|
moved at all. What then does Vis Inertiae do in this Case? And what
|
|
other Effect could we expect if there were no such Thing? Surely if
|
|
it was any Thing more than a Phantom, there might be enough of it in
|
|
such vast Bodies to annihilate, by its Opposition to Motion, so
|
|
trifling a Force?
|
|
|
|
Our Author would have reason'd more clearly, I think, if, as he
|
|
has us'd the Letter A for a certain Quantity of Matter, and C for a
|
|
certain Degree of Celerity, he had employ'd one Letter more, and put
|
|
F (perhaps) for a certain Quantity of Force. This let us suppose to
|
|
be done; and then, as it is a Maxim that the Force of Bodies in
|
|
Motion is equal to the Quantity of Matter multiply'd by the Celerity,
|
|
or F = C x A; and as the Force received by and subsisting in Matter
|
|
when it is put in Motion, can never exceed the Force given; so if F
|
|
move A with C, there must needs be required (See No. 3) 2F to move A
|
|
with 2C; for A moving with 2C would have a Force equal to 2F, which
|
|
it could not receive from 1F; and this, not because there is such a
|
|
Thing as Vis Inertiae, for the Case would be the same if that had no
|
|
Existence; but, _because nothing can give more than it hath._ And now
|
|
again, if a Thing can give what it hath; if 1F can to 1A give 1C,
|
|
which is the same thing as giving it 1F; i.e. if Force apply'd to
|
|
Matter at Rest, can put it in Motion, and give it _equal_ Force;
|
|
Where then is Vis Inertiae? If it existed at all in Matter, should
|
|
we not find the Quantity of its Resistance subtracted from the Force
|
|
given?
|
|
|
|
In No. 4. our Author goes on and says, "The Body A requires a
|
|
certain Force to be impressed on it, to be moved with a Celerity as
|
|
C, or such a Force is necessary; and therefore it makes a certain
|
|
Resistance, &c. A Body as 2A, requires _twice_ that Force to be
|
|
moved with the same Celerity, or it makes _twice_ that Resistance,
|
|
and so on." This I think is not true, but that the Body 2A moved by
|
|
the Force 1F, (tho' the Eye may judge otherwise of it) does really
|
|
move with the same Celerity as 1A did when impell'd by the same
|
|
Force: For 2A is compounded of 1A + 1A; And if each of the 1A's or
|
|
each Part of the Compound were made to move with 1C, (as they might
|
|
be by 2F) then the whole would move with 2C, and not with 1C as our
|
|
Author Supposes. But 1F apply'd to 2A makes each A move with 1/2 C,
|
|
and so the Whole moves with 1C, exactly the same as 1A was made to do
|
|
by 1F before. What is _equal Celerity_ but a Measuring of the same
|
|
Space by moving Bodies in the same Time? Now if 1A impell'd by 1F
|
|
measures 100 Yards in a Minute; and in 2A impell'd by 1F, each A
|
|
measures 50 Yards in a Minute, which added make 100, are not the
|
|
Celerities as well as the Forces equal? And since Force and Celerity
|
|
in the same Quantity of Matter are always in _Proportion_ to each
|
|
other, why should we, when the Quantity of Matter is doubled, allow
|
|
the Force to continue unimpair'd, and yet suppose one Half of the
|
|
Celerity to be lost? I wonder the more at our Author's Mistake in
|
|
this Point, since in the same No. I find him observing, "We may
|
|
easily conceive that a Body as 3A, 4A, &c. would make 3 or 4 Bodies
|
|
equal to once A, each of which would require once the first Force to
|
|
be moved with the Celerity C." If then in 3A, each A require once the
|
|
first Force F to be moved with the Celerity C, would not each move
|
|
with the Force F, and Celerity C; and consequently the whole be 3A
|
|
moving with 3F, and 3C? After so distinct an Observation, how could
|
|
he miss of the Consequence, and imagine that 1C and 3C were the same?
|
|
Thus as our Author's Abatement of Celerity in the Case of 2A moved by
|
|
1F, is imaginary, so must be his additional Resistance. And here
|
|
again I am at a Loss to discover any Effect of the Vis Inertiae.
|
|
|
|
In No. 6 he tells us, "That all this is likewise certain when
|
|
taken the contrary way, viz. from Motion to Rest; For the Body A
|
|
moving with a certain Velocity as C requires a certain Degree of
|
|
Force or Resistance to stop that Motion, &c. &c." That is, in other
|
|
Words, equal Force is necessary to destroy Force. It may be so; but
|
|
how does that discover a Vis Inertiae? Would not the Effect be the
|
|
same if there were no such Thing? A Force 1F strikes a Body 1A, and
|
|
moves it with the Celerity 1C, i.e. with the Force 1F. It requires,
|
|
even according to our Author, only an opposing 1F to stop it. But
|
|
ought it not, (if there were a Vis Inertiae) to have not only the
|
|
Force 1F, but an additional Force equal to the Force of Vis Inertiae,
|
|
that _obstinate Power, by which a Body endeavours with all its Might
|
|
to continue in its present State, whether of Motion or Rest_? I say,
|
|
ought there not to be an opposing Force equal to the Sum of these?
|
|
The Truth however is, that there is no Body how large soever, moving
|
|
with any Velocity how great soever, but may be stopped by any
|
|
opposing Force how small soever, continually apply'd. At least all
|
|
our modern Philosophers agree to tell us so.
|
|
|
|
Let me turn the Thing in what Light I please, I cannot discover
|
|
the Vis Inertiae nor any Effect of it. Tis allowed by all that a
|
|
Body 1A, moving with a Velocity 1C, and a Force 1F, striking another
|
|
Body 1A at Rest, they will afterwards move on together, each with 1/2
|
|
C, and 1/2 F; which, as I said before, is equal in the Whole to 1C
|
|
and 1F. If Vis Inertiae as in this Case neither abates the Force nor
|
|
the Velocity of Bodies, What does it, or how does it discover itself?
|
|
|
|
I imagine I may venture to conclude my Observations on this
|
|
Piece, almost in the Words of the Author, "That if the Doctrines of
|
|
the Immateriality of the Soul, and the Existence of God, and of
|
|
Divine Providence are demonstrable from _no plainer_ Principles, the
|
|
_Deist_ hath a desperate Cause in Hand." I oppose my _Theist_ to his
|
|
_Atheist_, because I think they are diametrically opposite and not
|
|
near of kin, as Mr. Whitefield seems to suppose where (in his
|
|
Journal) he tells us, _Mr. B. was a Deist, I had almost said an
|
|
Atheist._ That is, _Chalk_, I had almost said _Charcoal_.
|
|
|
|
Shall I hazard a Thought to you that for aught I know is new,
|
|
viz. If God was before all Things, and fill'd all Space; then, when
|
|
he form'd what we call Matter, he must have done it out of his own
|
|
Thinking immaterial Substance. The same, tho' he had not fill'd all
|
|
Space; if it be true that _Ex nihilo nihil fit._ From hence may we
|
|
not draw this Conclusion, That if any Part of Matter does not at
|
|
present act and think, 'tis not from an Incapacity in its Nature but
|
|
from a positive Restraint. I know not yet what other Consequences
|
|
may follow the admitting of this position and therefore I will not be
|
|
oblig'd to defend it. [ ] 'tis with some Reluctance that I either [
|
|
] in the metaphysical Way. The great Uncertainty I have found in
|
|
that Science; the wide Contradictions and endless Disputes it
|
|
affords; and the horrible Errors I led my self into when a young Man,
|
|
by drawing a Chain of plain Consequences as I thought them, from true
|
|
Principles, have given me a Disgust to what I was once extreamly fond
|
|
of.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Din of the Market encreases upon me, and that, with
|
|
frequent Interruptions, has, I find, made me say some things twice
|
|
over, and I suppose forget some others I intended to say. It has,
|
|
however, one good Effect, as it obliges me to come to the Relief of
|
|
your Patience, with Your Humble Servant
|
|
|
|
October 16, 1746
|
|
|
|
|
|
"THE NATURE OF BOYS"
|
|
|
|
_To Jane Mecom_
|
|
|
|
DEAR SISTER, Philadelphia,
|
|
I received your letter, with one for Benny, and one for Mr.
|
|
Parker, and also two of Benny's letters of complaint, which, as you
|
|
observe, do not amount to much. I should have had a very bad opinion
|
|
of him, if he had written to you those accusations of his master,
|
|
which you mention; because, from long acquaintance with his master,
|
|
who lived some years in my house, I know him to be a sober, pious,
|
|
and conscientious man; so that Newport, to whom you seem to have
|
|
given too much credit, must have wronged Mr. Parker very much in his
|
|
accounts, and have wronged Benny too, if he says Benny told him such
|
|
things, for I am confident he never did.
|
|
|
|
As to the bad attendance afforded him in the smallpox, I
|
|
believe, if the negro woman did not do her duty, her master or
|
|
mistress would, if they had known it, have had that matter mended.
|
|
But Mrs. Parker was herself, if I am not mistaken, sick at that time,
|
|
and her child also. And though he gives the woman a bad character in
|
|
general, all he charges her with in particular, is, that she never
|
|
brought him what he called for directly, and sometimes not at all.
|
|
He had the distemper favorably, and yet I suppose was bad enough to
|
|
be, like other sick people, a little impatient, and perhaps might
|
|
think a short time long, and sometimes call for things not proper for
|
|
one in his condition.
|
|
|
|
As to clothes, I am frequently at New York, and I never saw him
|
|
unprovided with what was good, decent, and sufficient. I was there
|
|
no longer ago than March last, and he was then well clothed, and made
|
|
no complaint to me of any kind. I heard both his master and mistress
|
|
call upon him on Sunday morning to get ready to go to meeting, and
|
|
tell him of his frequently delaying and shuffling till it was too
|
|
late, and he made not the least objection about clothes. I did not
|
|
think it any thing extraordinary, that he should be sometimes willing
|
|
to evade going to meeting, for I believe it is the case with all
|
|
boys, or almost all. I have brought up four or five myself, and have
|
|
frequently observed, that if their shoes were bad, they would say
|
|
nothing of a new pair till Sunday morning, just as the bell rung,
|
|
when, if you asked them why they did not get ready, the answer was
|
|
prepared, "I have no shoes," and so of other things, hats and the
|
|
like; or if they knew of any thing that wanted mending, it was a
|
|
secret till Sunday morning, and sometimes I believe they would rather
|
|
tear a little, than be without the excuse.
|
|
|
|
As to going on petty errands, no boys love it, but all must do
|
|
it. As soon as they become fit for better business, they naturally
|
|
get rid of that, for the master's interest comes in to their relief.
|
|
I make no doubt but Mr. Parker will take another apprentice, as soon
|
|
as he can meet with a likely one. In the mean time I should be glad
|
|
if Benny would exercise a little patience. There is a negro woman
|
|
that does a great many of those errands.
|
|
|
|
I do not think his going on board the privateer arose from any
|
|
difference between him and his master, or any ill usage he had
|
|
received. When boys see prizes brought in, and quantities of money
|
|
shared among the men, and their gay living, it fills their heads with
|
|
notions, that half distract them, and put them quite out of conceit
|
|
with trades, and the dull ways of getting money by working. This I
|
|
suppose was Ben's case, the Catherine being just before arrived with
|
|
three rich prizes; and that the glory of having taken a privateer of
|
|
the enemy, for which both officers and men were highly extolled,
|
|
treated, presented, &c. worked strongly upon his imagination, you
|
|
will see, by his answer to my letter, is not unlikely. I send it to
|
|
you enclosed. I wrote him largely on the occasion; and though he
|
|
might possibly, to excuse that slip to others, complain of his place,
|
|
you may see he says not a syllable of any such thing to me. My only
|
|
son, before I permitted him to go to Albany, left my house unknown to
|
|
us all, and got on board a privateer, from whence I fetched him. No
|
|
one imagined it was hard usage at home, that made him do this. Every
|
|
one, that knows me, thinks I am too indulgent a parent, as well as
|
|
master.
|
|
|
|
I shall tire you, perhaps, with the length of this letter; but
|
|
I am the more particular, in order, if possible, to satisfy your mind
|
|
about your son's situation. His master has, by a letter this post,
|
|
desired me to write to him about his staying out of nights, sometimes
|
|
all night, and refusing to give an account where he spends his time,
|
|
or in what company. This I had not heard of before, though I
|
|
perceive you have. I do not wonder at his correcting him for that.
|
|
If he was my own son, I should think his master did not do his duty
|
|
by him, if he omitted it, for to be sure it is the high road to
|
|
destruction. And I think the correction very light, and not likely
|
|
to be very effectual, if the strokes left no marks.
|
|
|
|
His master says farther, as follows; -- "I think I can't charge
|
|
my conscience with being much short of my duty to him. I shall now
|
|
desire you, if you have not done it already, to invite him to lay his
|
|
complaints before you, that I may know how to remedy them." Thus far
|
|
the words of his letter, which giving me a fair opening to inquire
|
|
into the affair, I shall accordingly do it, and I hope settle every
|
|
thing to all your satisfactions. In the mean time, I have laid by
|
|
your letters both to Mr. Parker and Benny, and shall not send them
|
|
till I hear again from you, because I think your appearing to give
|
|
ear to such groundless stories may give offence, and create a greater
|
|
misunderstanding, and because I think what you write to Benny, about
|
|
getting him discharged, may tend to unsettle his mind, and therefore
|
|
improper at this time.
|
|
|
|
I have a very good opinion of Benny in the main, and have great
|
|
hopes of his becoming a worthy man, his faults being only such as are
|
|
commonly incident to boys of his years, and he has many good
|
|
qualities, for which I love him. I never knew an apprentice
|
|
contented with the clothes allowed him by his master, let them be
|
|
what they would. Jemmy Franklin, when with me, was always
|
|
dissatisfied and grumbling. When I was last in Boston, his aunt bid
|
|
him go to a shop and please himself, which the gentleman did, and
|
|
bought a suit of clothes on my account dearer by one half, than any I
|
|
ever afforded myself, one suit excepted; which I don't mention by way
|
|
of complaint of Jemmy, for he and I are good friends, but only to
|
|
show you the nature of boys.
|
|
|
|
The letters to Mr. Vanhorne were sent by Mr. Whitfield, under
|
|
my cover.
|
|
|
|
I am, with love to brother and all yours, and duty to mother,
|
|
to whom I have not time now to write, your affectionate brother,
|
|
|
|
June, 1748
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE EXAMPLE OF CONFUCIUS
|
|
|
|
_To George Whitefield_
|
|
|
|
Dear Sir, Philadelphia, July 6, 1749.
|
|
Since your being in England, I have received two of your
|
|
favours, and a box of books to be disposed of. It gives me great
|
|
pleasure to hear of your welfare, and that you purpose soon to return
|
|
to America.
|
|
|
|
We have no kind of news here worth writing to you. The affair
|
|
of the building remains in _statu quo_, there having been no new
|
|
application to the Assembly about it, nor any thing done in
|
|
consequence of the former.
|
|
|
|
I have received no money on your account from Mr. Thanklin, or
|
|
from Boston. Mrs. Read, and your other friends here in general, are
|
|
well, and will rejoice to see you again.
|
|
|
|
I am glad to hear that you have frequent opportunities of
|
|
preaching among the great. If you can gain them to a good and
|
|
exemplary life, wonderful changes will follow in the manners of the
|
|
lower ranks; for, _ad Exemplum Regis, &c._ On this principle
|
|
Confucius, the famous eastern reformer, proceeded. When he saw his
|
|
country sunk in vice, and wickedness of all kinds triumphant, he
|
|
applied himself first to the grandees; and having by his doctrine won
|
|
them to the cause of virtue, the commons followed in multitudes. The
|
|
mode has a wonderful influence on mankind; and there are numbers that
|
|
perhaps fear less the being in Hell, than out of the fashion! Our
|
|
more western reformations began with the ignorant mob; and when
|
|
numbers of them were gained, interest and party-views drew in the
|
|
wise and great. Where both methods can be used, reformations are
|
|
like to be more speedy. O that some method could be found to make
|
|
them lasting! He that shall discover that, will, in my opinion,
|
|
deserve more, ten thousand times, than the inventor of the
|
|
longtitude.
|
|
|
|
My wife and family join in the most cordial salutations to you
|
|
and good Mrs. Whitefield. I am, dear Sir, your very affectionate
|
|
friend, and most obliged humble servant,
|
|
|
|
MOVEMENT OF HURRICANES
|
|
|
|
_To Jared Eliot_
|
|
|
|
Dear Sir Philada. Feb. 13. 1749,50
|
|
You desire to know my Thoughts about the N.E. Storms beginning
|
|
to Leeward. Some Years since there was an Eclipse of the Moon at 9
|
|
in the Evening, which I intended to observe, but before 8 a Storm
|
|
blew up at N E. and continued violent all Night and all next Day, the
|
|
Sky thick clouded, dark and rainy, so that neither Moon nor Stars
|
|
could be seen. The Storm did a great deal of Damage all along the
|
|
Coast, for we had Accounts of it in the News Papers from Boston,
|
|
Newport, New York, Maryland and Virginia. But what surpriz'd me, was
|
|
to find in the Boston Newspapers an Account of an Observation of that
|
|
Eclipse made there: For I thought, as the Storm came from the N E. it
|
|
must have begun sooner at Boston than with us, and consequently have
|
|
prevented such Observation. I wrote to my Brother about it, and he
|
|
inform'd me, that the Eclipse was over there, an hour before the
|
|
Storm began. Since which I have made Enquiries from time to time of
|
|
Travellers, and of my Correspondents N Eastward and S. Westward, and
|
|
observ'd the Accounts in the Newspapers from N England, N York,
|
|
Maryland, Virginia and South Carolina, and I find it to be a constant
|
|
Fact, that N East Storms begin to Leeward; and are often more violent
|
|
there than farther to Windward. Thus the last October Storm, which
|
|
with you was on the 8th. began on the 7th in Virginia and N Carolina,
|
|
and was most violent there. As to the Reason of this, I can only
|
|
give you my Conjectures. Suppose a great Tract of Country, Land and
|
|
Sea, to wit Florida and the Bay of Mexico, to have clear Weather for
|
|
several Days, and to be heated by the Sun and its Air thereby
|
|
exceedingly rarified; Suppose the Country North Eastward, as
|
|
Pensilvania, New England, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, &c. to be at the
|
|
same time cover'd with Clouds, and its Air chill'd and condens'd.
|
|
The rarified Air being lighter must rise, and the Dense Air next to
|
|
it will press into its Place; that will be follow'd by the next
|
|
denser Air, that by the next, and so on. Thus when I have a Fire in
|
|
my Chimney, there is a Current of Air constantly flowing from the
|
|
Door to the Chimney: but the beginning of the Motion was at the
|
|
Chimney, where the Air being rarified by the Fire, rising, its Place
|
|
was supply'd by the cooler Air that was next to it, and the Place of
|
|
that by the next, and so on to the Door. So the Water in a long
|
|
Sluice or Mill Race, being stop'd by a Gate, is at Rest like the Air
|
|
in a Calm; but as soon as you open the Gate at one End to let it out,
|
|
the Water next the Gate begins first to move, that which is next to
|
|
it follows; and so tho' the Water proceeds forward to the Gate, the
|
|
Motion which began there runs backwards, if one may so speak, to the
|
|
upper End of the Race, where the Water is last in Motion. We have on
|
|
this Continent a long Ridge of Mountains running from N East to S.
|
|
West; and the Coast runs the same Course. These may, perhaps,
|
|
contribute towards the Direction of the winds or at least influence
|
|
them in some Degree, [ ]. If these Conjectures do not satisfy you, I
|
|
wish to have yours on the Subject.
|
|
|
|
I doubt not but those Mountains which you mention contain
|
|
valuable mines which Time will discover. I know of but one valuable
|
|
Mine in this country which is that of Schuyler's in the Jerseys.
|
|
This yields good Copper, and has turn'd out vast Wealth to the
|
|
Owners. I was at it last Fall; but they were not then at Work; the
|
|
Water is grown too hard for them; and they waited for a Fire Engine
|
|
from England to drain their Pits; I suppose they will have that at
|
|
Work next Summer; it costs them pounds 1000 Sterling.
|
|
|
|
Col. John Schuyler, one of the Owners, has a Deer Park 5 Miles round,
|
|
fenc'd with Cedar Logs, 5 Logs high, with chocks of Wood between; it contains
|
|
variety of Land high and Low, woodland and clear. There are a great many
|
|
Deer in it; and he expects in a few Years to be able to kill 200 head a Year,
|
|
which will be a profitable Thing. He has likewise 600 Acres of Meadow, all
|
|
within Bank. The Mine is not far from Passaic Falls, which I went also to
|
|
see. They are very curious: the Water falls 70 foot perpendicular, as we
|
|
were told; but we had nothing to measure with. It gives me great Pleasure
|
|
that your Sentiments are in accord with mine. I like your Notion [ ]ming;
|
|
and tho' perhaps it [ ]n prudent, as we are circumstanced [ ] them in the
|
|
Proposals; I doubt not that they will in time become Part of the [ ]. It
|
|
will be agreable to you to hear, and therefore I inform you, that our
|
|
Subscription goes on with great Success, and we suppose will exceed pounds
|
|
5000 of our Currency: We have bought for the Academy, the House that was
|
|
built for Itinerant Preaching, which stands on a large Lot of Ground capable
|
|
of receiving more Buildings to lodge the Scholars, if it should come to be a
|
|
regular Colledge. The House is 100 foot long and 70 wide, built of Brick;
|
|
very strong; and sufficiently high for three lofty Stories: I suppose it did
|
|
not cost less than pounds 2000 building; but we bought it for pounds 775
|
|
18_s_. 11 3/4_d_: tho' it will cost us 3 or perhaps 400 more to make the
|
|
Partitions and Floors, and fit up the Rooms. I send you enclos'd a Copy of
|
|
our present Constitutions; but we expect a Charter from our Proprietaries
|
|
this Summer, when they may prob'ly receive considerable Alterations. The
|
|
Paper admonishes me that 'tis Time to conclude. I am, Sir, Your obliged
|
|
humble Servant
|
|
|
|
"SECURING THE FRIENDSHIP OF THE INDIANS"
|
|
|
|
_To James Parker_
|
|
|
|
Dear Mr. _Parker_, Philadelphia, March 20, 1750,1.
|
|
I have, as you desire, read the Manuscript you sent me; and am
|
|
of Opinion, with the publick-spirited Author, that securing the
|
|
Friendship of the _Indians_ is of the greatest Consequence to these
|
|
Colonies; and that the surest Means of doing it, are, to regulate the
|
|
_Indian_ Trade, so as to convince them, by Experience, that they may
|
|
have the best and cheapest Goods, and the fairest Dealing from the
|
|
_English_; and to unite the several Governments, so as to form a
|
|
Strength that the _Indians_ may depend on for Protection, in Case of
|
|
a Rupture with the _French_; or apprehend great Danger from, if they
|
|
should break with us.
|
|
|
|
This Union of the Colonies, however necessary, I apprehend is
|
|
not to be brought about by the Means that have hitherto been used for
|
|
that Purpose. A Governor of one Colony, who happens from some
|
|
Circumstances in his own Government, to see the Necessity of such an
|
|
Union, writes his Sentiments of the Matter to the other Governors,
|
|
and desires them to recommend it to their respective Assemblies.
|
|
They accordingly lay the Letters before those Assemblies, and perhaps
|
|
recommend the Proposal in general Words. But Governors are often on
|
|
ill Terms with their Assemblies, and seldom are the Men that have the
|
|
most Influence among them. And perhaps some Governors, tho' they
|
|
openly recommend the Scheme, may privately throw cold Water on it, as
|
|
thinking additional publick Charges will make their People less able,
|
|
or less willing to give to them. Or perhaps they do not clearly see
|
|
the Necessity of it, and therefore do not very earnestly press the
|
|
Consideration of it: And no one being present that has the Affair at
|
|
Heart, to back it, to answer and remove Objections, _&c._ 'tis easily
|
|
dropt, and nothing is done. -- Such an Union is certainly necessary
|
|
to us all, but more immediately so to your Government. Now, if you
|
|
were to pick out half a Dozen Men of good Understanding and Address,
|
|
and furnish them with a reasonable Scheme and proper Instructions,
|
|
and send them in the Nature of Ambassadors to the other Colonies,
|
|
where they might apply particularly to all the leading Men, and by
|
|
proper Management get them to engage in promoting the Scheme; where,
|
|
by being present, they would have the Opportunity of pressing the
|
|
Affair both in publick and private, obviating Difficulties as they
|
|
arise, answering Objections as soon as they are made, before they
|
|
spread and gather Strength in the Minds of the People, _&c. &c._ I
|
|
imagine such an Union might thereby be made and established: For
|
|
reasonable sensible Men, can always make a reasonable Scheme appear
|
|
such to other reasonable Men, if they take Pains, and have Time and
|
|
Opportunity for it; unless from some Circumstances their Honesty and
|
|
good Intentions are suspected. A voluntary Union entered into by the
|
|
Colonies themselves, I think, would be preferable to one impos'd by
|
|
Parliament; for it would be perhaps not much more difficult to
|
|
procure, and more easy to alter and improve, as Circumstances should
|
|
require, and Experience direct. It would be a very strange Thing, if
|
|
six Nations of ignorant Savages should be capable of forming a Scheme
|
|
for such an Union, and be able to execute it in such a Manner, as
|
|
that it has subsisted Ages, and appears indissoluble; and yet that a
|
|
like Union should be impracticable for ten or a Dozen _English_
|
|
Colonies, to whom it is more necessary, and must be more
|
|
advantageous; and who cannot be supposed to want an equal
|
|
Understanding of their Interests.
|
|
|
|
Were there a general Council form'd by all the Colonies, and a
|
|
general Governor appointed by the Crown to preside in that Council,
|
|
or in some Manner to concur with and confirm their Acts, and take
|
|
Care of the Execution; every Thing relating to Indian Affairs and the
|
|
Defence of the Colonies, might be properly put under their
|
|
Management. Each Colony should be represented by as many Members as
|
|
it pays Sums of Hundred Pounds into the common Treasury for the
|
|
common Expence; which Treasury would perhaps be best and most
|
|
equitably supply'd, by an equal Excise on strong Liquors in all the
|
|
Colonies, the Produce never to be apply'd to the private Use of any
|
|
Colony, but to the general Service. Perhaps if the Council were to
|
|
meet successively at the Capitals of the several Colonies, they might
|
|
thereby become better acquainted with the Circumstances, Interests,
|
|
Strength or Weakness, _&c_. of all, and thence be able to judge
|
|
better of Measures propos'd from time to time: At least it might be
|
|
more satisfactory to the Colonies, if this were propos'd as a Part of
|
|
the Scheme; for a Preference might create Jealousy and Dislike.
|
|
|
|
I believe the Place mention'd is a very suitable one to build a
|
|
Fort on. In Times of Peace, Parties of the Garrisons of all Frontier
|
|
Forts might be allowed to go out on Hunting Expeditions, with or
|
|
without Indians, and have the Profit to themselves of the Skins they
|
|
get: By this Means a Number of Wood-Runners would be form'd, well
|
|
acquainted with the Country, and of great Use in War Time, as Guides
|
|
of Parties and Scouts, _&c_. -- Every Indian is a Hunter; and as
|
|
their Manner of making War, _viz_. by Skulking, Surprizing and
|
|
Killing particular Persons and Families, is just the same as their
|
|
Manner of Hunting, only changing the Object, Every Indian is a
|
|
disciplin'd Soldier. Soldiers of this Kind are always wanted in the
|
|
Colonies in an Indian War; for the _European_ Military Discipline is
|
|
of little Use in these Woods.
|
|
|
|
Publick Trading Houses would certainly have a good Effect
|
|
towards regulating the private Trade; and preventing the Impositions
|
|
of the private Traders; and therefore such should be established in
|
|
suitable Places all along the Frontiers; and the Superintendant of
|
|
the Trade, propos'd by the Author, would, I think, be a useful
|
|
Officer.
|
|
|
|
The Observation concerning the Importation of _Germans_ in too
|
|
great Numbers into _Pennsylvania_, is, I believe, a very just one.
|
|
This will in a few Years become a _German_ Colony: Instead of their
|
|
Learning our Language, we must learn their's, or live as in a foreign
|
|
Country. Already the _English_ begin to quit particular
|
|
Neighbourhoods surrounded by _Dutch_, being made uneasy by the
|
|
Disagreeableness of disonant Manners; and in Time, Numbers will
|
|
probably quit the Province for the same Reason. Besides, the _Dutch_
|
|
under-live, and are thereby enabled to under-work and under-sell the
|
|
_English_; who are thereby extreamly incommoded, and consequently
|
|
disgusted, so that there can be no cordial Affection or Unity between
|
|
the two Nations. How good Subjects they may make, and how faithful
|
|
to the _British_ Interest, is a Question worth considering. And in
|
|
my Opinion, equal Numbers might have been spared from the _British_
|
|
Islands without being miss'd there, and on proper Encouragement would
|
|
have come over. I say without being miss'd, perhaps I might say
|
|
without lessening the Number of People at Home. I question indeed,
|
|
whether there be a Man the less in _Britain_ for the Establishment of
|
|
the Colonies. An Island can support but a certain Number of People:
|
|
When all Employments are full, Multitudes refrain Marriage, 'till
|
|
they can see how to maintain a Family. The Number of Englishmen in
|
|
_England_, cannot by their present common Increase be doubled in a
|
|
Thousand Years; but if half of them were taken away and planted in
|
|
_America_, where there is Room for them to encrease, and sufficient
|
|
Employment and Subsistance; the Number of _Englishmen_ would be
|
|
doubled in 100 _Years_: For those left at home, would multiply in
|
|
that Time so as to fill up the Vacancy, and those here would at least
|
|
keep Pace with them.
|
|
|
|
Every one must approve the Proposal of encouraging a Number of
|
|
sober discreet Smiths to reside among the _Indians_. They would
|
|
doubtless be of great Service. The whole Subsistance of _Indians_,
|
|
depends on keeping their Guns in order; and if they are obliged to
|
|
make a Journey of two or three hundred Miles to an English Settlement
|
|
to get a Lock mended; it may, besides the Trouble, occasion the Loss
|
|
of their Hunting Season. They are People that think much of their
|
|
temporal, but little of their spiritual Interests; and therefore, as
|
|
he would be a most useful and necessary Man to them, a Smith is more
|
|
likely to influence them than a Jesuit; provided he has a good common
|
|
Understanding, and is from time to time well instructed.
|
|
|
|
I wish I could offer any Thing for the Improvement of the
|
|
Author's Piece, but I have little Knowledge, and less Experience in
|
|
these Matters. I think it ought to be printed; and should be glad
|
|
there were a more general Communication of the Sentiments of
|
|
judicious Men, on Subjects so generally interesting; it would
|
|
certainly produce good Effects. Please to present my Respects to the
|
|
Gentleman, and thank him for the Perusal of his Manuscript.
|
|
I am,
|
|
Yours affectionately.
|
|
|
|
|
|
A FLEXIBLE CATHETER
|
|
|
|
_To John Franklin_
|
|
|
|
Dear Brother Philada. Dec. 8. 1752
|
|
Reflecting yesterday on your Desire to have a flexible
|
|
Catheter, a Thought struck into my Mind how one might possibly be
|
|
made: And lest you should not readily conceive it by any Description
|
|
of mine, I went immediately to the Silversmith's, and gave Directions
|
|
for making one, (sitting by 'till it was finish'd), that it might be
|
|
ready for this Post. But now it is done I have some Apprehensions
|
|
that it may be too large to be easy: if so, a Silversmith can easily
|
|
make it less, by twisting it on a smaller Wire, and putting a smaller
|
|
Pipe to the End, if the Pipe be really necessary. This Machine may
|
|
either be cover'd with a small fine Gut first clean'd and soak'd a
|
|
Night in a Solution of Alum and Salt in Water, then rubb'd dry which
|
|
will preserve it longer from Putrefaction: then wet again, and drawn
|
|
on, and ty'd to the Pipes at each End where little Hollows are made
|
|
for the Thread to bind in and the Surface greas'd: Or perhaps it may
|
|
be used without the Gut, having only a little Tallow rubb'd over it,
|
|
to smooth it and fill the Joints. I think it is as flexible as could
|
|
be expected in a thing of the kind, and I imagine will readily comply
|
|
with the Turns of the Passage, yet has Stiffness enough to be
|
|
protruded; if not, the enclos'd Wire may be us'd to stiffen the
|
|
hinder Part of the Pipe while the fore Part is push'd forward; and as
|
|
it proceeds the Wire may be gradually withdrawn. The Tube is of such
|
|
a Nature, that when you have Occasion to withdraw it its Diameter
|
|
will lessen, whereby it will move more easily. It is also a kind of
|
|
Scrue, and may be both withdrawn and introduc'd by turning.
|
|
Experience is necessary for the right using of all new Tools or
|
|
Instruments, and that will perhaps suggest some Improvements to this
|
|
Instrument as well as better direct the Manner of Using it.
|
|
|
|
I have read Whytt on Lime Water. You desire my Thoughts on
|
|
what he says. But what can I say? He relates Facts and Experiments;
|
|
and they must be allow'd good, if not contradicted by other Facts and
|
|
Experiments. May not one guess by holding Lime Water some time in
|
|
one's Mouth, whether it is likely to injure the Bladder?
|
|
|
|
I know not what to advise, either as to the Injection, or the
|
|
Operation. I can only pray God to direct you for the best, and to
|
|
grant Success.
|
|
|
|
I am, my dear Brother Yours most affectionately
|
|
|
|
I find Whytt's Experiments are approv'd and recommended by Dr.
|
|
Mead.
|
|
|
|
"I NOW SEND YOU THE ARITHMETICAL CURIOSITY"
|
|
|
|
_To Peter Collinson_
|
|
|
|
_SIR,_
|
|
According to your request, I now send you the Arithmetical
|
|
Curiosity, of which this is the history.
|
|
|
|
Being one day in the country, at the house of our common
|
|
friend, the late learned Mr. _Logan_, he shewed me a folio _French_
|
|
book, filled with magic squares, wrote, if I forget not, by one M.
|
|
_Frenicle_, in which he said the author had discovered great
|
|
ingenuity and dexterity in the management of numbers; and, though
|
|
several other foreigners had distinguished themselves in the same
|
|
way, he did not recollect that any one _Englishman_ had done any
|
|
thing of the kind remarkable.
|
|
|
|
I said, it was, perhaps, a mark of the good sense of our
|
|
_English_ mathematicians, that they would not spend their time in
|
|
things that were merely _difficiles nugae_, incapable of any useful
|
|
application. He answered, that many of the arithmetical or
|
|
mathematical questions, publickly proposed and answered in _England_,
|
|
were equally trifling and useless. Perhaps the considering and
|
|
answering such questions, I replied, may not be altogether useless,
|
|
if it produces by practice an habitual readiness and exactness in
|
|
mathematical disquisitions, which readiness may, on many occasions,
|
|
be of real use. In the same way, says he, may the making of these
|
|
squares be of use. I then confessed to him, that in my younger days,
|
|
having once some leisure, (which I still think I might have employed
|
|
more usefully) I had amused myself in making these kind of magic
|
|
squares, and, at length, had acquired such a knack at it, that I
|
|
could fill the cells of any magic square, of reasonable size, with a
|
|
series of numbers as fast as I could write them, disposed in such a
|
|
manner, as that the sums of every row, horizontal, perpendicular, or
|
|
diagonal, should be equal; but not being satisfied with these, which
|
|
I looked on as common and easy things, I had imposed on myself more
|
|
difficult tasks, and succeeded in making other magic squares, with a
|
|
variety of properties, and much more curious. He then shewed
|
|
meseveral in the same book, of an uncommon and more curious kind; but
|
|
as I thought none of them equal to some I remembered to have made, he
|
|
desired me to let him see them; and accordingly, the next time I
|
|
visited him, I carried him a square of 8, which I found among my old
|
|
papers, and which I will now give you, with an account of its
|
|
properties.
|
|
|
|
The properties are,
|
|
1. That every strait row (horizontal or vertical) of 8 numbers
|
|
added together, makes 260, and half each row half 260.
|
|
|
|
2. That the bent row of 8 numbers, ascending and descending
|
|
diagonally, _viz._ from 16 ascending to 10, and from 23 descending to
|
|
17; and every one of its parallel bent rows of 8 numbers, make 260.
|
|
-- Also the bent row from 52, descending to 54, and from 43 ascending
|
|
to 45; and every one of its parallel bent rows of 8 numbers, make
|
|
260. -- Also the bent row from 45 to 43 descending to the left, and
|
|
from 23 to 17 descending to the right, and every one of its parallel
|
|
bent rows of 8 numbers make 260. -- Also the bent row from 52 to 54
|
|
descending to the right, and from 10 to 16 descending to the left,
|
|
and every one of its parallel bent rows of 8 numbers make 260. --
|
|
Also the parallel bent rows next to the above-mentioned, which are
|
|
shortened to 3 numbers ascending, and 3 descending, _&c._ as from 53
|
|
to 4 ascending, and from 29 to 44 descending, make, with the 2 corner
|
|
numbers, 260. -- Also the 2 numbers 14, 61 ascending, and 36, 19
|
|
descending, with the lower 4 numbers situated like them, _viz._ 50,
|
|
1, descending, and 32, 47, ascending, make 260. -- And, lastly, the 4
|
|
corner numbers, with the 4 middle numbers, make 260.
|
|
|
|
So this magical square seems perfect in its kind. But these
|
|
are not all its properties; there are 5 other curious ones, which, at
|
|
some other time, I will explain to you.
|
|
|
|
Mr. _Logan_ then shewed me an old arithmetical book, in quarto,
|
|
wrote, I think, by one _Stifelius_, which contained a square of 16,
|
|
that he said he should imagine must have been a work of great labour;
|
|
but if I forget not, it had only the common properties of making the
|
|
same sum, _viz._ 2056, in every row, horizontal, vertical, and
|
|
diagonal. Not willing to be out-done by Mr _Stifelius_, even in the
|
|
size of my square, I went home, and made, that evening, the following
|
|
magical square of 16, which, besides having all the properties of the
|
|
|
|
_A Magic Square of Squares_.
|
|
|
|
foregoing square of 8, _i.e._ it would make the 2056 in all the
|
|
same rows and diagonals, had this added, that a four square hole
|
|
being cut in a piece of paper of such a size as to take in and shew
|
|
through it, just 16 of the little squares, when laid on the greater
|
|
square, the sum of the 16 numbers so appearing through the hole,
|
|
wherever it was placed on the greater square, should likewise make
|
|
2056. This I sent to our friend the next morning, who, after some
|
|
days, sent it back in a letter, with these words: -- "I return to
|
|
thee thy astonishing or most stupendous piece of the magical square,
|
|
in which" -- but the compliment is too extravagant, and therefore,
|
|
for his sake, as well as my own, I ought not to repeat it. Nor is it
|
|
necessary; for I make no question but you will readily allow this
|
|
square of 16 to be the most magically magical of any magic square
|
|
ever made by any magician. (_See the Plate_.)
|
|
|
|
I did not, however, end with squares, but composed also a
|
|
magick circle, consisting of 8 concentric circles, and 8 radial rows,
|
|
filled with a series of numbers, from 12 to 75, inclusive, so
|
|
disposed as that the numbers of each circle, or each radial row,
|
|
being added to the central number 12, they made exactly 360, the
|
|
number of degrees in a circle; and this circle had, moreover, all the
|
|
properties of the square of 8. If you desire it, I will send it; but
|
|
at present, I believe, you have enough on this subject.
|
|
_I am, &c._
|
|
|
|
1752?
|
|
|
|
|
|
"I NOW SEND YOU THE MAGICAL CIRCLE"
|
|
|
|
_To Peter Collinson_
|
|
|
|
_SIR_,
|
|
I am glad the perusal of the magical squares afforded you any
|
|
amusement. I now send you the magical circle.
|
|
|
|
Its properties, besides those mentioned in my former, are
|
|
these.
|
|
|
|
Half the number in any radial row, added with half the
|
|
|
|
_A Magic Circle of Circles._
|
|
|
|
central number, make 180, equal to the number of degrees in a
|
|
semi-circle.
|
|
|
|
Also half the numbers in any one of the concentric circles,
|
|
taken either above or below the horizontal double line, with half the
|
|
central number, make 180.
|
|
|
|
And if any four adjoining numbers, standing nearly in a square,
|
|
be taken from any part, and added with half the central number, they
|
|
make 180.
|
|
|
|
There are, moreover, included four other sets of circular
|
|
spaces, excentric with respect to the first, each of these sets
|
|
containing five spaces. The centers of the circles that bound them,
|
|
are at A, B, C, and D. Each set, for the more easy distinguishing
|
|
them from the first, are drawn with a different colour'd ink, red,
|
|
blue, green, and yellow.
|
|
|
|
These sets of excentric circular spaces intersect those of the
|
|
concentric, and each other; and yet the numbers contained in each of
|
|
the twenty excentric spaces, taken all around, make, with the central
|
|
number, the same sum as those in each of the 8 concentric, _viz._
|
|
360. The halves, also of those drawn from the centers A and C, taken
|
|
above or below the double horizontal line, and of those drawn from
|
|
centers B and D, taken to the right or left of the vertical line, do,
|
|
with half the central number, make just 180.
|
|
|
|
It may be observed, that there is not one of the numbers but
|
|
what belongs at least to two of the different circular spaces; some
|
|
to three, some to four, some to five; and yet they are all so placed
|
|
as never to break the required number 360, in any of the 28 circular
|
|
spaces within the primitive circle.
|
|
|
|
These interwoven circles make so perplexed an appearance, that
|
|
it is not easy for the eye to trace every circle of numbers one would
|
|
examine, through all the maze of circles intersected by it; but if
|
|
you fix one foot of the compasses in either of the centers, and
|
|
extend the other to any number in the circle you would examine
|
|
belonging to that center, the moving foot will point the others out,
|
|
by passing round over all the numbers of that circle successively.
|
|
_I am, &c._
|
|
|
|
1752?
|
|
|
|
|
|
SPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS
|
|
|
|
_To John Perkins_
|
|
|
|
Dear Sir Philada. Feb. 4. 1753
|
|
I ought to have wrote to you long since, in Answer to yours of
|
|
Oct. 16. concerning the Water Spout: But Business partly, and partly
|
|
a Desire of procuring further Information by Inquiry among my
|
|
Seafaring Acquaintance, induc'd me to postpone Writing from time to
|
|
time, till I am now almost asham'd to resume the Subject, not knowing
|
|
but you may have forgot what has been said upon it.
|
|
|
|
Nothing certainly can be more improving to a Searcher into
|
|
Nature, than Objections judiciously made to his Opinions, taken up
|
|
perhaps too hastily: For such Objections oblige him to restudy the
|
|
Point, consider every Circumstance carefully, compare Facts, make
|
|
Experiments, weigh Arguments, and be slow in drawing Conclusions.
|
|
And hence a sure Advantage results; for he either confirms a Truth,
|
|
before too slightly supported; or discovers an Error and receives
|
|
Instruction from the Objector.
|
|
|
|
In this View I consider the Objections and Remarks you sent me,
|
|
and thank you for them sincerely: But how much soever my Inclinations
|
|
lead me to philosophical Inquiries, I am so engag'd in Business
|
|
public and private, that those more pleasing pursuits are frequently
|
|
interrupted, and the Chain of Thought necessary to be closely
|
|
continu'd in such Disquisitions, so broken and disjointed, that it is
|
|
with Difficulty I satisfy myself in any of them. And I am now not
|
|
much nearer a Conclusion in this Matter of the Spout, than when I
|
|
first read your Letter.
|
|
|
|
Yet hoping we may in time sift out the Truth between us, I will
|
|
send you my present Thoughts with some Observations on your Reasons,
|
|
on the Accounts in the Transactions, and other Relations I have met
|
|
with. Perhaps while I am writing some new Light may strike me -- for
|
|
I shall now be oblig'd to consider the Subject with a little more
|
|
Attention. I agree with you, that by means of a Vacuum in a
|
|
Whirlwind, Water cannot be suppos'd to rise in large Masses to the
|
|
Region of the Clouds: For the Pressure of the surrounding Atmosphere
|
|
could not force it up in a continu'd Body or Column to a much greater
|
|
Height than thirty feet: But if there really is a Vacuum in the
|
|
Center or near the Axis of Whirlwinds, then I think Water may rise in
|
|
such Vacuum to that Height or to less Height as the Vacuum may be
|
|
less perfect.
|
|
|
|
I had not read Stuart's Account in the Transactions for many
|
|
Years before the receipt of your Letter and had quite forgot it; but
|
|
now, on Viewing his Drafts, and considering his Descriptions, I think
|
|
they seem to favour _my Hypothesis_; For he describes and draws
|
|
Columns of Water of various Heights, terminating abruptly at the Top,
|
|
exactly as Water would do when forc'd up by the Pressure of the
|
|
Atmosphere into an exhausted Tube.
|
|
|
|
I must, however, no longer call it _my Hypothesis_, since I
|
|
find Stuart had the same Thought tho' somewhat obscurely express'd,
|
|
where he says, "he imagines this Phaenomenon may be solv'd by Suction
|
|
(improperly so call'd) or rather Pulsion, as in the Application of a
|
|
Cupping Glass to the Flesh, the Air being first voided by the kindled
|
|
Flax."
|
|
|
|
In my Paper, I supposed a Whirlwind and a Spout, to be the same
|
|
Thing, and to proceed from the same Cause; the only Difference
|
|
between them being, that the one passes over Land, the other over
|
|
Water. I find also, in the Transactions, that Mr. de la Pryme was of
|
|
the same Opinion; for he there describes two Spouts as he calls them,
|
|
which were seen at different Times at Hatfield in Yorkshire, whose
|
|
Appearances in the Air were the same with those of the Spouts at Sea,
|
|
and Effects the same with those of real Whirlwinds.
|
|
|
|
Whirlwinds have generally a progressive as well as a circular
|
|
Motion; so had what is called the Spout at Topsham; See the Account
|
|
of it in the Transactions; which also appears by its Effects
|
|
described to have been a real Whirlwind. Water Spouts have likewise
|
|
a progressive Motion. Tho' this is sometimes greater and sometimes
|
|
less, in some violent, in others barely perceivable. The Whirlwind
|
|
at Warrington continu'd long in Acrement Close.
|
|
|
|
Whirlwinds generally arise after Calms and great Heats: The
|
|
same is observ'd of Water Spouts, which are therefore most frequent
|
|
in the warm Latitudes. The Spout that happen'd in Cold Weather in
|
|
the Downs, describ'd by Mr. Gordon, in the Transactions, was for that
|
|
reason thought extraordinary, but he remarks withal, that the Weather
|
|
tho' cold when the Spout appeared, was soon after much colder; as we
|
|
find it commonly less warm after a Whirlwind.
|
|
|
|
You agree that the Wind blows every way towards a Whirlwind
|
|
from a large Space round; An intelligent Whaleman of Nantucket,
|
|
informed me, that three of their Vessels which were out in search of
|
|
Whales, happening to be becalmed lay in Sight of each other at about
|
|
a League distance if I remember right nearly forming a Triangle;
|
|
after some time a Water Spout appeared near the Middle of the
|
|
Triangle, when a brisk Breeze of Wind also sprang up; and every
|
|
Vessel made Sail and then it appeared to them all by the Setting of
|
|
the Sails and the Course each Vessel stood, that the Spout was to
|
|
Leeward of every one of them, and they all declar'd it to have been
|
|
so when they happen'd afterwards in Company and came to confer about
|
|
it. So that in this Particular likewise, Whirlwinds and Waterspouts
|
|
agree.
|
|
|
|
But if that which appears a Water Spout at Sea, does sometimes
|
|
in its progressive Motion, meet with and pass over Land, and there
|
|
produce all the Phenomena and Effects of a Whirlwind, it should
|
|
thence seem still more evident that a Whirlwind and Spout are the
|
|
same. I send you herewith a Letter from an ingenious Physician of my
|
|
Acquaintance, which gives one Instance of this, that fell within his
|
|
Observation.
|
|
|
|
A Fluid moving from all Points horizontally towards a Center,
|
|
must at that Center either ascend or descend. Water being in a Tub,
|
|
if a Hole be open'd in the Middle of the Bottom, will flow from all
|
|
Sides to the Center, and there descend in a Whirl. But Air flowing
|
|
on and near the Surface of Land or Water from all Sides toward a
|
|
Center, must at that Center ascend; the Land or Water hindering its
|
|
Descent.
|
|
|
|
If these concentring Currents of Air be in the upper Region,
|
|
they may indeed descend in the Spout or Whirlwind; but then when the
|
|
united Current reach'd the Earth or Water it would spread and
|
|
probably blow every way _from_ the Center: There may be Whirlwinds of
|
|
both kinds, but from the common observ'd Effects, I suspect the
|
|
Rising one to be the most common; and that when the upper Air
|
|
descends, tis perhaps in a greater Body, extending wider and without
|
|
much whirling as in our Thunder Gusts. When Air descends in a Spout
|
|
or Whirlwind, I should rather expect it would press the Roof of a
|
|
House inwards, or force in the Tiles, Shingles or Thatch; force a
|
|
Boat down into the Water, or a Piece of Timber into the Earth than
|
|
that it would lift them up and carry them away.
|
|
|
|
It has so happen'd that I have not met with any Accounts of
|
|
Spouts, that certainly descended. I suspect they are not frequent.
|
|
Please to communicate those you mention. The apparent dropping of a
|
|
Pipe from the Clouds towards the Earth or Sea, I will endeavour to
|
|
explain hereafter.
|
|
|
|
The Augmentation of the Cloud, which, as I am inform'd is
|
|
generally if not always the case during a Spout, seems to show an
|
|
Ascent rather than a Descent of the Matter of which such Cloud is
|
|
composed. For a descending Spout one would expect should diminish a
|
|
Cloud. I own, however, that descending cold Air, may by Condensing
|
|
the Vapours of a lower Region form and increase Clouds, which I think
|
|
is generally the Case in our common Thunder Gusts, and therefore do
|
|
not lay great Stress on this Argument.
|
|
|
|
Whirlwinds and Spouts are not always tho' most commonly in the
|
|
Day-time. The terrible Whirlwind which damag'd a great Part of Rome
|
|
June 11. 1749 happen'd in the Night of that Day. The same was
|
|
supposed to have been first a Spout, for it is said to be beyond
|
|
doubt that it gathered in the neighbouring Sea, as it could be
|
|
tracked from Ostia to Rome. I find this in Pere Boschovich's Account
|
|
of it, as abridg'd in the Monthly Review for December 1750.
|
|
|
|
In that Account the Whirlwind is said to have appear'd as a
|
|
very black long and lofty Cloud, (discoverable notwithstanding the
|
|
Darkness of the Night by its continually lightning or emitting
|
|
Flashes on all Sides) pushing along with a surprizing Swiftness, and
|
|
within 3 or 4 feet of the Ground. Its general Effects on Houses,
|
|
were stripping off the Roofs, blowing away Chimneys, breaking Doors
|
|
and Windows, _forcing up the Floors, and unpaving the Rooms_: [Some
|
|
of these Effects seem to agree well with a supposed Vacuum in the
|
|
Center of the Whirlwind;] and the very Rafters of the Houses were
|
|
broke and dispersed, and even hurled against Houses at a considerable
|
|
Distance, &c.
|
|
|
|
It seems by an Expression of Pere Boschovich's as if the Wind
|
|
blew from all sides towards this Whirlwind for having carefully
|
|
observ'd its Effects he concludes of all Whirlwinds "that their
|
|
Motion is circular, and their Action _attractive_."
|
|
|
|
He observes on a Number of Histories of Whirlwinds &c. "that a
|
|
common Effect of them is to carry up into the Air, Tiles, Stones and
|
|
Animals themselves, which happen to be in their Course, and all kinds
|
|
of Bodies unexceptionally, throwing them to a considerable Distance,
|
|
with great Impetuosity." Such Effects seem to show a rising Current
|
|
of Air.
|
|
|
|
I will endeavour to explain my Conceptions of this Matter, by
|
|
Figures, representing a Plan and an Elevation of a Spout or
|
|
Whirlwind.
|
|
|
|
I would only first beg to be allowed two or three Positions
|
|
mentioned in my former Paper.
|
|
|
|
1st. That the lower Region of Air is often more heated and so
|
|
more rarified, than the upper; consequently specifically lighter.
|
|
The Coldness of the upper Region is manifested by the Hail which
|
|
sometimes falls from it in a hot Day:
|
|
|
|
2dly. That heated Air may be very moist, and yet the Moisture
|
|
so equally diffus'd and rarified, as not to be visible, till colder
|
|
Air mixes with it, when it condenses and becomes visible. Thus our
|
|
Breath, invisible in Summer, becomes visible in Winter.
|
|
|
|
Now let us suppose a Tract of Land or Sea of perhaps 60 Miles
|
|
square unscreen'd by Clouds and unfann'd by Winds during great Part
|
|
of a Summer's Day, or it may be for several Days successively till
|
|
'tis violently heated, together with the lower Region of Air in
|
|
Contact with it, so that the said lower Air becomes specifically
|
|
lighter than the superincumbent higher Region of the Atmosphere, in
|
|
which the Clouds commonly float. Let us suppose also, that the Air
|
|
surrounding this Tract has not been so much heated during those Days,
|
|
and therefore remains heavier. The Consequence of this should be, as
|
|
I imagine that the heated lighter Air being press'd on all Sides must
|
|
ascend, and the heavier descend; and as this Rising cannot be in all
|
|
Parts or the whole Area of the Tract at once, for that would leave
|
|
too extensive a Vacuum, the Rising will begin precisely in that
|
|
Column that happens to be the lightest or most rarified; and the warm
|
|
Air will flow horizontallyfrom all Points to this Column, where the
|
|
several Currents meeting and joining to rise, a Whirl is naturally
|
|
formed, in the same Manner as a Whirl is formed in the Tub of Water
|
|
by the descending Fluid flowing from all Sides of the Tub to the Hole
|
|
in the Center.
|
|
|
|
And as the several Currents arrive at this central rising
|
|
Column with a considerable Degree of horizontal Motion, they cannot
|
|
suddenly change it to a vertical Motion, therefore as they gradually
|
|
in approaching the Whirl decline from right to curve or circular
|
|
Lines, so having join'd the Whirl they _ascend_ by a spiral Motion;
|
|
in the same Manner as the Water _descends_ spirally thro' the Hole in
|
|
the Tub before-mentioned.
|
|
|
|
Lastly, as the lower Air and nearest the Surface, is most
|
|
rarified by the Heat of the Sun, that Air is most acted on by the
|
|
Pressure of the surrounding cold and heavy Air which is to take its
|
|
Place, consequently its Motion towards the Whirl is swiftest, and so
|
|
the force of the lower Part of the Whirl or Trump strongest, and the
|
|
Centrifugal Force of its Particles greatest; and hence the Vacuum
|
|
round the Axis of the Whirl should be greatest near the Earth or Sea,
|
|
and be gradually diminish'd as it approaches the Region of the
|
|
Clouds, till it ends in a Point, as at A in Fig II. forming a long
|
|
and sharp Cone.
|
|
|
|
In Fig I. which is a Plan or Ground Plot of a Whirlwind, the
|
|
Circle V represents the central Vacuum.
|
|
|
|
Between aaaa and bbbb I suppose a Body of Air condens'd
|
|
strongly by the Pressure of the Currents moving towards it from all
|
|
sides without, and by its Centrifugal Force from within; moving round
|
|
with prodigious Swiftness, (having as it were the Momenta of all the
|
|
Currents --_ --_ --_ --_ united in itself) and with a Power equal to
|
|
its Swiftness and Density.
|
|
|
|
It is this whirling Body of Air between aaaa and bbbb that
|
|
rises spirally. By its Force it tears Buildings to Pieces, twists up
|
|
great Trees by the Roots, &c. and by its spiral Motion raises the
|
|
Fragments so high till the Pressure of the surrounding and
|
|
approaching Currents diminishing can no longer confine them to the
|
|
Circle, or their own centrifugal Force
|
|
|
|
encreasing grows too strong for such Pressure, when they fly
|
|
off in Tangent Lines as Stones out of a Sling, and fall on all Sides
|
|
and at great Distances.
|
|
|
|
If it happens at Sea, the Water between aaaa and bbbb will be
|
|
violently agitated and driven about, and parts of it raised with the
|
|
spiral Current, and thrown about so as to form a Bushlike Appearance.
|
|
|
|
This Circle is of various Diameters, sometimes very large.
|
|
|
|
If the Vacuum passes over Water the Water may rise in it in a
|
|
Body or Column to near the Height of 32 feet. If it passes over
|
|
Houses, it may burst their Windows or Walls outwards, pluck off the
|
|
Roofs and blow up the Floors, by the Sudden Rarefaction of the Air
|
|
contain'd within such Buildings, the outward Pressure of the
|
|
Atmosphere being suddenly taken off; So the stop'd Bottle of Air
|
|
bursts under the exhausted Receiver of the Air Pump.
|
|
|
|
Fig II. is to represent the Elevation of a Water Spout; wherein
|
|
I suppose PPP to be the Cone, at first a Vacuum till WW the rising
|
|
Column of Water has fill'd so much of it. SSSS the Spiral Whirl of
|
|
Air surrounding the Vacuum and continu'd higher in a close Column
|
|
after the Vacuum ends in the Point P. till it reach the cool Region
|
|
of the Air. B.B. the Bush describ'd by Stuart, surrounding the Foot
|
|
of the Column of Water.
|
|
|
|
Now I suppose this Whirl of Air will at first be as invisible
|
|
as the Air itself tho' reaching in reality from the Water to the
|
|
Region of cool Air in which our low Summer Thunder Clouds commonly
|
|
float; but presently it will become visible at its Extremities. _At
|
|
its lower End_ by the Agitation of the Water, under the Whirling Part
|
|
of the Circle, between P and S. forming Stuart's Bush, and by the
|
|
Swelling and Rising of the Water in the beginning Vacuum, which is at
|
|
first a small low broad Cone whose Top gradually rises and sharpens
|
|
as the Force of the Whirl increases. _At its upper End_, it becomes
|
|
visible by the Warm Air brought up to the cooler Region, where its
|
|
Moisture begins to be condens'd into thick Vapour by the Cold, and is
|
|
seen first at A. the highest Parts, which being now cool'd, condenses
|
|
what rises next at B. which condenses that at C; and that condenses
|
|
what is rising at D. The Cold operating by the Contact of the
|
|
Vapours faster in a right Line downwards, than the Vapours themselves
|
|
can climb in a spiral Line upwards; they climb however, and as by
|
|
continual Addition they grow denser and consequently their
|
|
centrifugal Force greater, and being risen above the concentrating
|
|
Currents that compose the Whirl, they flie off, spread and form a
|
|
Cloud.
|
|
|
|
It seems easy to conceive, how by this successive Condensation
|
|
from above the Spout appears to drop or descend from the Cloud, tho'
|
|
the Materials of which it is composed are all the while ascending.
|
|
|
|
The Condensation of the Moisture contain'd in so great a
|
|
Quantity of warm Air as may be suppos'd to rise in a short Time in
|
|
this prodigiously rapid Whirl, is perhaps sufficient to form a great
|
|
Extent of Cloud, tho' the Spout should be over Land as those at
|
|
Hatfield; and if the Land happens not to be very dusty, perhaps the
|
|
lower Part of the Spout will scarce become visible at all; Tho' the
|
|
upper or what is commonly call'd the descending Part be very
|
|
distinctly seen.
|
|
|
|
The same may happen at Sea, in case the Whirl is not violent
|
|
enough to make a high Vacuum and raise the Column, &c. In such Case
|
|
the upper Part ABCD only will be visible, and the Bush perhaps below.
|
|
|
|
But if the Whirl be strong, and there be much Dust on the Land,
|
|
or the Column WW be rais'd from the Water; then the lower Part
|
|
becomes visible, and sometimes even united to the upper Part. For
|
|
the Dust may be carried up in the Spiral Whirl till it reach the
|
|
Region where the Vapour is condens'd, and rise with that even to the
|
|
Clouds. And the Friction of the Whirling Air on the Sides of the
|
|
Column WW may detach great Quantities of its Water, break it into
|
|
Drops and carry them up in the Spiral Whirl mix'd with the Air; the
|
|
heavier Drops may indeed fly off, and fall in a Shower round the
|
|
Spout; but much of it will be broken into Vapour, yet visible; and
|
|
thus in both Cases, by Dust at Land, and by Water at Sea, the whole
|
|
Tube may be darkned and render'd visible.
|
|
|
|
As the Whirl weakens, the Tube may (in Appearance) separate in
|
|
the Middle; the Column of Water subsiding, and the superior condens'd
|
|
Part drawing up to the Cloud. Yet still the Tube or Whirl of Air may
|
|
remain entire, the middle only becoming invisible, as not containing
|
|
visible Matter.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dr. Stuart says, "it was observable of all the Spouts he saw,
|
|
but more perceptible of the great One; that towards the End it began
|
|
to appear like a hollow Canal, only black in the Borders but white in
|
|
the Middle, and tho' at first it was altogether black and opaque, yet
|
|
now one could very distinctly perceive the Sea Water to fly up along
|
|
the Middle of this Canal, as Smoak up a Chimney." And Dr. Mather
|
|
describing a Whirlwind says, "a thick dark small Cloud arose, with a
|
|
Pillar of Light in it, of about 8 or 10 foot Diameter and passed
|
|
along the Ground in a Tract not wider than a Street, horribly tearing
|
|
up Trees by the Roots, blowing them up in the Air like Feathers, and
|
|
throwing up Stones of great Weight to a considerable Height in the
|
|
Air, &c."
|
|
|
|
These Accounts, the one of Water Spouts, the other of a
|
|
Whirlwind, seem in this particular to agree; what one Gentleman
|
|
describes as a Tube black in the Borders, and white in the middle;
|
|
the other calls a black Cloud with a Pillar of Light in it; the
|
|
latter Expression has only a little more of the marvellous, but the
|
|
Thing is the same. And it seems not very difficult to understand.
|
|
When Dr. Stuarts Spouts were full charg'd; that is, when the whirling
|
|
Pipe of Air was filled, between aaaa and bbbb [Fig. I], with
|
|
Quantities of Drops and Vapour torn off from the Column WW [Fig. II],
|
|
the whole was render'd so dark as that it could not be seen thro',
|
|
nor the spiral ascending Motion discover'd; but when the Quantity
|
|
ascending lessen'd, the Pipe became more transparent, and the
|
|
ascending Motion visible. For by Inspection of this Figure in the
|
|
Margin representing a Section of our Spout with the Vacuum in the
|
|
Middle, it is plain, that if we look at such a hollow Pipe in the
|
|
Direction of the Arrows, and suppose opacous Particles to be equally
|
|
mix'd in the Space between the two circular Lines, both the Part
|
|
between the Arrows a and b and that between the Arrows c and d, will
|
|
appear much darker than that between b and c; as there must be many
|
|
more of those opaque Particles in the Line of Vision across the Sides
|
|
than across the Middle. It is thus, that a Hair in a Microscope
|
|
evidently appears to be a Pipe, the Sides shewing darker than the
|
|
Middle. Dr. Mather's Whirl was probably fill'd with Dust; the Sides
|
|
were very dark, but the Vacuum within rendering the Middle more
|
|
transparent he
|
|
|
|
calls it a Pillar of Light. It was in this more transparent
|
|
Part between b and c that Stuart could see the spiral Motion of the
|
|
Vapours, whose Lines on the nearest and farthest Side of this
|
|
transparent Part crossing each other, represented Smoke ascending in
|
|
a Chimney; for the Quantity being still too great in the Line of
|
|
Sight thro' the Sides of the Tube, the Motion could not be discover'd
|
|
there, and so they represented the solid Sides of the Chimney.
|
|
|
|
When the Vapours reach in the Pipe from the Clouds near to the
|
|
Earth, it is no Wonder now to those who understand Electricity, that
|
|
Flashes of Lightning should descend by the Spout, as in that at Rome.
|
|
|
|
But you object, If Water may be thus carried into the Clouds,
|
|
why have we no salt Rains? The Objection is strong and reasonable;
|
|
and I know not whether I can answer it to your Satisfaction. I never
|
|
heard but of one Salt Rain, and that was where a Spout passed pretty
|
|
near a Ship, so I suppose it to be only the Drops thrown off from the
|
|
Spout by the centrifugal Force, (as the Birds were at Hatfield) when
|
|
they had been carried so high as to be above or to be too strongly
|
|
centrifugal for the Pressure of the concurring Winds surrounding it.
|
|
And indeed I believe there can be no other kind of Salt Rain; for it
|
|
has pleased the Goodness of God so to order it, that the Particles of
|
|
Air will not attract the Particles of Salt; tho' they strongly
|
|
attract Water. Hence tho' all Metals, even Gold, may be united with
|
|
Air and render'd volatile, Salt remains fix'd in the Fire, and no
|
|
Heat can force it up to any considerable Height or oblige the Air to
|
|
hold it; Hence when Salt rises as it will a little Way into Air with
|
|
Water, there is instantly a Separation made; the Particles of Water
|
|
adhere to the Air, and the Particles of Salt fall down again, as if
|
|
repell'd and forc'd off from the Water by some Power in the Air: Or
|
|
as some Metals dissolv'd in a proper Menstruum will quit the Solvent
|
|
when other matter approaches, and adhere to that, so the Water quits
|
|
the Salt and embraces the Air but Air will not embrace the Salt and
|
|
quit the Water. Otherwise, our Rains would indeed be salt, and every
|
|
Tree and Plant on the Face of the Earth be destroy'd, with all the
|
|
Animals that depend on them for Subsistence. He who hath
|
|
proportioned and given proper Qualities to all Things, was not
|
|
unmindful of this. Let us adore him with Praise and Thanksgiving!
|
|
|
|
By some Accounts of Seamen, it seems the Column of Water WW
|
|
sometimes falls suddenly, and if it be as some say 15 or 20 Yards
|
|
Diameter it must fall with great Force, and they may well fear for
|
|
their Ships. By one Account in the Transactions of a Spout that fell
|
|
at Coln in Lancashire one would think the Column is sometimes lifted
|
|
off from the Water, and carried over Land, and there let fall in a
|
|
Body; but this I suppose happens rarely.
|
|
|
|
Stuart describes his Spouts as appearing no bigger than a Mast!
|
|
and sometimes less: but they were at a League and half Distance.
|
|
|
|
I think I formerly read in Dampier, or some other Voyager, that
|
|
a Spout in its progressive Motion went over a Ship becalmed on the
|
|
Coast of Guinea: and first threw her down on one Side, carrying away
|
|
her Foremast; then suddenly, whipt her up, and threw her down on the
|
|
other Side, carrying away her Mizen Mast; and the whole was over in
|
|
an Instant. I suppose the first Mischief was done by the foreside of
|
|
the Whirl, the latter by the hinder Side, their Motion being
|
|
contrary.
|
|
|
|
I suppose a Whirlwind or Spout may be stationary when the
|
|
concurring Winds are equal; but if unequal, the Whirl acquires a
|
|
progressive Motion, in the direction of the Strongest Pressure.
|
|
|
|
Where the Wind that gives the progressive Motion becomes
|
|
stronger below than above, or above than below, the Spout will be
|
|
bent, and the Cause ceasing, straiten again.
|
|
|
|
Your Queries towards the End of your Paper, appear judicious
|
|
and worth considering. At present I am not furnish'd with Facts
|
|
sufficient to make any pertinent Answer to them. And this Paper has
|
|
already a sufficient Quantity of Conjecture.
|
|
|
|
Your manner of accommodating the Accounts to your Hypothesis,
|
|
of descending Spouts, is I own ingenious; and perhaps that Hypothesis
|
|
may be true: I will consider it farther; but as yet I am not
|
|
satisfy'd with it, tho' hereafter I may be. Here you have my Method
|
|
of Accounting for the principal Phaenomena, which I submit to your
|
|
candid Examination. If my Hypothesis is not the Truth itself, it is
|
|
least as naked: For I have not with some of our learned Moderns
|
|
disguis'd my Nonsense in Greek, cloth'd it in Algebra, or adorn'd it
|
|
with Fluxions. And as I now seem to have almost written a Book
|
|
instead of a Letter, you will think it high time I should conclude,
|
|
which I beg Leave to do with assuring you that I am most sincerely,
|
|
Dear Sir Your obliged Friend and humble Servant.
|
|
|
|
ELECTRICITY, THE TRANSIT OF MERCURY, AND A NORTHWEST PASSAGE
|
|
|
|
_To Cadwallader Colden_
|
|
|
|
Dear Sir Philada. Feb. 28. 1753
|
|
I return you herewith Professor Kanster's Remarks. As far as I
|
|
am able to judge, the Translation is just, and your Answer a good
|
|
one. I am pleas'd with the Omission of that part of a Paragraph
|
|
relating to the German and Pensilvanian Electricians, and have
|
|
corrected the Copy as you direct. I have but one other Alteration to
|
|
propose, which is, to omit some Part of the last Paragraph, and read
|
|
the rest thus; -- "After all, Mr. Colden must think himself obliged
|
|
to the Professor, for exposing the Difficulties his Treatise lies
|
|
under in the Opinion of others, as thereby an Opportunity is given of
|
|
explaining his Doctrine more fully to their Satisfaction." For it
|
|
seems to me not so proper to make Acknowledgement for his Translating
|
|
your Piece, as if it were a Favour, when he tells the World he did it
|
|
by Command: And I apprehend it unnecessary, and that it may look like
|
|
too great a Fondness for Complement, to draw one from him by
|
|
Consequence; viz. _That he did not think it a trifling Performance,
|
|
or he would not have taken the Trouble, &c._ since he himself freely
|
|
says, _that the many new, good and just Thoughts contain'd in it,
|
|
made him willingly undertake the Task enjoin'd him._ Besides that it
|
|
is not clear he could have refus'd to obey the Command he received,
|
|
whatever might have been his private Sentiments. The Ship I intended
|
|
to forward these Papers by to Mr. Collinson, has stay'd much longer
|
|
than I expected, and now I am told will not sail before the End of
|
|
next Month, so that I may possibly receive your Directions concerning
|
|
this propos'd Alteration before she sails.
|
|
|
|
I find I was not wrong in my Apprehensions that your Book would
|
|
be incorrectly printed. I hope however, that the Errata will be in
|
|
England time enough to be published with the Work; and I thank you
|
|
for sending them to me. I have corrected the Book accordingly, and
|
|
given it one Reading; but it is not a Piece to make sudden Remarks
|
|
on, as one might of a Poem or other Performance on common Subjects.
|
|
I must read and consider it yet more attentively; at present I can
|
|
only tell you, that some Things in it please me exceedingly; some I
|
|
do not yet clearly understand; and one or two Positions I think
|
|
wrong; of all which you shall hear more fully in my next. On the
|
|
whole it gives me great Satisfaction, when I consider it as a Work
|
|
that will not only improve Philosophy, but do Honour to America.
|
|
|
|
I am sorry I have not, as you expect, anything new to
|
|
communicate to you on the Subject of Electricity. My Time and
|
|
Thoughts have of late been much engag'd in other Matters: And ever
|
|
since I heard of your being furnish'd with an Apparatus, I have hoped
|
|
rather to receive Information of new Discoveries from you, than
|
|
expected to send you any. If your other philosophical Pursuits do
|
|
not prevent your Application to the Experiments you propos'd to make
|
|
on various Salts, &c. I shall still hope it. Your Skill and
|
|
Expertness in Mathematical Computations, will afford you an Advantage
|
|
in these Disquisitions, that I lament the want of, who am like a Man
|
|
searching for something in a dark Room, where I can only grope and
|
|
guess; while you proceed with a Candle in your Hand.
|
|
|
|
We are preparing here to make accurate Observations on the
|
|
approaching Transit of Mercury over the Sun. You will oblige us much
|
|
by sending the Account you have received from Lord Macclesfield of
|
|
his great mural Quadrant. I congratulate you on your Discovery of a
|
|
new Motion in the Earth's Axis: You will, I see, render your Name
|
|
immortal.
|
|
|
|
I believe I have not before told you, that I have procur'd a
|
|
Subscription here of pounds 1500 to fit out a Vessel in Search of a NWest
|
|
Passage: she sails in a few Days, and is called the Argo, commanded
|
|
by Mr. Swaine, who was in the last Expedition in the California,
|
|
Author of a Journal of that Voyage in two Volumes. We think the
|
|
Attempt laudable, whatever may be the Success: if he fails, _Magnis
|
|
tamen excidit ausis._
|
|
|
|
With great Esteem, I am, Dear Sir, Your most humble Servant
|
|
|
|
THE SUPPORT OF THE POOR
|
|
|
|
_To Peter Collinson_
|
|
|
|
Sir Philadelphia May 9th. 1753
|
|
I received your Favour of the 29th. August last and thank you
|
|
for the kind and judicious remarks you have made on my little Piece.
|
|
Whatever further occurs to you on the same subject, you will much
|
|
oblige me in communicating it.
|
|
|
|
I have often observed with wonder, that Temper of the poor
|
|
English Manufacturers and day Labourers which you mention, and
|
|
acknowledge it to be pretty general. When any of them happen to come
|
|
here, where Labour is much better paid than in England, their
|
|
Industry seems to diminish in equal proportion. But it is not so
|
|
with the German Labourers; They retain the habitual Industry and
|
|
Frugality they bring with them, and now receiving higher Wages an
|
|
accumulation arises that makes them all rich.
|
|
|
|
|
|
When I consider, that the English are the Offspring of Germans,
|
|
that the Climate they live in is much of the same Temperature; when I
|
|
can see nothing in Nature that should create this Difference, I am
|
|
apt to suspect it must arise from Institution, and I have sometimes
|
|
doubted, whether the Laws peculiar to England which compel the Rich
|
|
to maintain the Poor, have not given the latter, a Dependance that
|
|
very much lessens the care of providing against the wants of old Age.
|
|
|
|
I have heard it remarked that the Poor in Protestant Countries
|
|
on the Continent of Europe, are generally more industrious than those
|
|
of Popish Countries, may not the more numerous foundations in the
|
|
latter for the relief of the poor have some effect towards rendering
|
|
them less provident. To relieve the misfortunes of our fellow
|
|
creatures is concurring with the Deity, 'tis Godlike, but if we
|
|
provide encouragements for Laziness, and supports for Folly, may it
|
|
not be found fighting against the order of God and Nature, which
|
|
perhaps has appointed Want and Misery as the proper Punishments for,
|
|
and Cautions against as well as necessary consequences of Idleness
|
|
and Extravagancy.
|
|
|
|
Whenever we attempt to mend the scheme of Providence and to
|
|
interfere in the Government of the World, we had need be very
|
|
circumspect lest we do more harm than Good. In New England they once
|
|
thought Black-birds useless and mischievous to their corn, they made
|
|
Laws to destroy them, the consequence was, the Black-birds were
|
|
diminished but a kind of Worms which devoured their Grass, and which
|
|
the Black-birds had been used to feed on encreased prodigiously; Then
|
|
finding their Loss in Grass much greater than their saving in corn
|
|
they wished again for their Black-birds.
|
|
|
|
We had here some years since a Transylvanian Tartar, who had
|
|
travelled much in the East, and came hither merely to see the West,
|
|
intending to go home thro' the spanish West Indies, China &c. He
|
|
asked me one day what I thought might be the Reason that so many and
|
|
such numerous nations, as the Tartars in Europe and Asia, the Indians
|
|
in America, and the Negroes in Africa, continued a wandring careless
|
|
Life, and refused to live in Cities, and to cultivate the arts they
|
|
saw practiced by the civilized part of Mankind. While I was
|
|
considering what answer to make him; I'll tell you, says he in his
|
|
broken English, God make man for Paradise, he make him for to live
|
|
lazy; man make God angry, God turn him out of Paradise, and bid him
|
|
work; man no love work; he want to go to Paradise again, he want to
|
|
live lazy; so all mankind love lazy. Howe'er this may be it seems
|
|
certain, that the hope of becoming at some time of Life free from the
|
|
necessity of care and Labour, together with fear of penury, are the
|
|
main-springs of most peoples industry.
|
|
|
|
To those indeed who have been educated in elegant plenty, even
|
|
the provision made for the poor may appear misery, but to those who
|
|
have scarce ever been better provided for, such provision may seem
|
|
quite good and sufficient, these latter have then nothing to fear
|
|
worse than their present Conditions, and scarce hope for any thing
|
|
better than a Parish maintainance; so that there is only the
|
|
difficulty of getting that maintainance allowed while they are able
|
|
to work, or a little shame they suppose attending it, that can induce
|
|
them to work at all, and what they do will only be from hand to
|
|
mouth.
|
|
|
|
The proneness of human Nature to a life of ease, of freedom
|
|
from care and labour appears strongly in the little success that has
|
|
hitherto attended every attempt to civilize our American Indians, in
|
|
their present way of living, almost all their Wants are supplied by
|
|
the spontaneous Productions of Nature, with the addition of very
|
|
little labour, if hunting and fishing may indeed be called labour
|
|
when Game is so plenty, they visit us frequently, and see the
|
|
advantages that Arts, Sciences, and compact Society procure us, they
|
|
are not deficient in natural understanding and yet they have never
|
|
shewn any Inclination to change their manner of life for ours, or to
|
|
learn any of our Arts; When an Indian Child has been brought up among
|
|
us, taught our language and habituated to our Customs, yet if he goes
|
|
to see his relations and make one Indian Ramble with them, there is
|
|
no perswading him ever to return, and that this is not natural to
|
|
them merely as Indians, but as men, is plain from this, that when
|
|
white persons of either sex have been taken prisoners young by the
|
|
Indians, and lived a while among them, tho' ransomed by their
|
|
Friends, and treated with all imaginable tenderness to prevail with
|
|
them to stay among the English, yet in a Short time they become
|
|
disgusted with our manner of life, and the care and pains that are
|
|
necessary to support it, and take the first good Opportunity of
|
|
escaping again into the Woods, from whence there is no reclaiming
|
|
them. One instance I remember to have heard, where the person was
|
|
brought home to possess a good Estate; but finding some care
|
|
necessary to keep it together, he relinquished it to a younger
|
|
Brother, reserving to himself nothing but a gun and a match-Coat,
|
|
with which he took his way again to the Wilderness.
|
|
|
|
Though they have few but natural wants and those easily
|
|
supplied. But with us are infinite Artificial wants, no less craving
|
|
than those of Nature, and much more difficult to satisfy; so that I
|
|
am apt to imagine that close Societies subsisting by Labour and Arts,
|
|
arose first not from choice, but from necessity: When numbers being
|
|
driven by war from their hunting grounds and prevented by seas or by
|
|
other nations were crowded together into some narrow Territories,
|
|
which without labour would not afford them Food. However as matters
|
|
now stand with us, care and industry seem absolutely necessary to our
|
|
well being; they should therefore have every Encouragement we can
|
|
invent, and not one Motive to diligence be subtracted, and the
|
|
support of the Poor should not be by maintaining them in Idleness,
|
|
But by employing them in some kind of labour suited to their
|
|
Abilities of body &c. as I am informed of late begins to be the
|
|
practice in many parts of England, where work houses are erected for
|
|
that purpose. If these were general I should think the Poor would be
|
|
more careful and work voluntarily and lay up something for themselves
|
|
against a rainy day, rather than run the risque of being obliged to
|
|
work at the pleasure of others for a bare subsistence and that too
|
|
under confinement. The little value Indians set on what we prize so
|
|
highly under the name of Learning appears from a pleasant passage
|
|
that happened some years since at a Treaty between one of our
|
|
Colonies and the Six Nations; when every thing had been settled to
|
|
the Satisfaction of both sides, and nothing remained but a mutual
|
|
exchange of civilities, the English Commissioners told the Indians,
|
|
they had in their Country a College for the instruction of Youth who
|
|
were there taught various languages, Arts, and Sciences; that there
|
|
was a particular foundation in favour of the Indians to defray the
|
|
expense of the Education of any of their sons who should desire to
|
|
take the Benefit of it. And now if the Indians would accept of the
|
|
Offer, the English would take half a dozen of their brightest lads
|
|
and bring them up in the Best manner; The Indians after consulting on
|
|
the proposal replied that it was remembered some of their Youths had
|
|
formerly been educated in that College, but it had been observed that
|
|
for a long time after they returned to their Friends, they were
|
|
absolutely good for nothing being neither acquainted with the true
|
|
methods of killing deer, catching Beaver or surprizing an enemy. The
|
|
Proposition however, they looked on as a mark of the kindness and
|
|
good will of the English to the Indian Nations which merited a
|
|
grateful return; and therefore if the English Gentlemen would send a
|
|
dozen or two of their Children to Onondago the great Council would
|
|
take care of their Education, bring them up in really what was the
|
|
best manner and make men of them.
|
|
|
|
I am perfectly of your mind, that measures of great Temper are
|
|
necessary with the Germans: and am not without Apprehensions, that
|
|
thro' their indiscretion or Ours, or both, great disorders and
|
|
inconveniences may one day arise among us; Those who come hither are
|
|
generally of the most ignorant Stupid Sort of their own Nation, and
|
|
as Ignorance is often attended with Credulity when Knavery would
|
|
mislead it, and with Suspicion when Honesty would set it right; and
|
|
as few of the English understand the German Language, and so cannot
|
|
address them either from the Press or Pulpit, 'tis almost impossible
|
|
to remove any prejudices they once entertain. Their own Clergy have
|
|
very little influence over the people; who seem to take an uncommon
|
|
pleasure in abusing and discharging the Minister on every trivial
|
|
occasion. Not being used to Liberty, they know not how to make a
|
|
modest use of it; and as Kolben says of the young Hottentots, that
|
|
they are not esteemed men till they have shewn their manhood by
|
|
beating their mothers, so these seem to think themselves not free,
|
|
till they can feel their liberty in abusing and insulting their
|
|
Teachers. Thus they are under no restraint of Ecclesiastical
|
|
Government; They behave, however, submissively enough at present to
|
|
the Civil Government which I wish they may continue to do: For I
|
|
remember when they modestly declined intermeddling in our Elections,
|
|
but now they come in droves, and carry all before them, except in one
|
|
or two Counties; Few of their children in the Country learn English;
|
|
they import many Books from Germany; and of the six printing houses
|
|
in the Province, two are entirely German, two half German half
|
|
English, and but two entirely English; They have one German
|
|
News-paper, and one half German. Advertisements intended to be
|
|
general are now printed in Dutch and English; the Signs in our
|
|
Streets have inscriptions in both languages, and in some places only
|
|
German: They begin of late to make all their Bonds nad other legal
|
|
Writings in their own Language, which (though I think it ought not to
|
|
be) are allowed good in our Courts, where the German Business so
|
|
encreases that there is continual need of Interpreters; and I suppose
|
|
in a few years they will be also necessary in the Assembly, to tell
|
|
one half of our Legislators what the other half say; In short unless
|
|
the stream of their importation could be turned from this to other
|
|
colonies, as you very judiciously propose, they will soon so out
|
|
number us, that all the advantages we have will not in My Opinion be
|
|
able to preserve our language, and even our Government will become
|
|
precarious. The French who watch all advantages, are now themselves
|
|
making a German settlement back of us in the Ilinoes Country, and by
|
|
means of those Germans they may in time come to an understanding with
|
|
ours, and indeed in the last war our Germans shewed a general
|
|
disposition that seems to bode us no good; for when the English who
|
|
were not Quakers, alarmed by the danger arising from the defenceless
|
|
state of our Country entered unanimously into an Association within
|
|
this Government and the lower Countries raised armed and Disciplined
|
|
near 10,000 men, the Germans except a very few in proportion to their
|
|
numbers refused to engage in it, giving out one among another, and
|
|
even in print, that if they were quiet the French should they take
|
|
the Country would not molest them; at the same time abusing the
|
|
Philadelphians for fitting out Privateers against the Enemy; and
|
|
representing the trouble hazard and Expence of defending the
|
|
Province, as a greater inconvenience than any that might be expected
|
|
from a change of Government. Yet I am not for refusing entirely to
|
|
admit them into our Colonies: all that seems to be necessary is, to
|
|
distribute them more equally, mix them with the English, establish
|
|
English Schools where they are now too thick settled, and take some
|
|
care to prevent the practice lately fallen into by some of the Ship
|
|
Owners, of sweeping the German Goals to make up the number of their
|
|
Passengers. I say I am not against the Admission of Germans in
|
|
general, for they have their Virtues, their industry and frugality is
|
|
exemplary; They are excellent husbandmen and contribute greatly to
|
|
the improvement of a Country.
|
|
|
|
I pray God long to preserve to Great Britain the English Laws,
|
|
Manners, Liberties and Religion notwithstanding the complaints so
|
|
frequent in Your public papers, of the prevailing corruption and
|
|
degeneracy of your People; I know you have a great deal of Virtue
|
|
still subsisting among you, and I hope the Constitution is not so
|
|
near a dissolution, as some seem to apprehend; I do not think you are
|
|
generally become such Slaves to your Vices, as to draw down that
|
|
_Justice_ Milton speaks of when he says that
|
|
|
|
------ sometimes Nations will descend so low
|
|
From reason, which is virtue, that no Wrong,
|
|
But Justice, and some fatal curse annex'd
|
|
Deprives them of their _outward_ liberty,
|
|
Their _inward_ lost. Parad: lost.
|
|
|
|
In history we find that Piety, Public Spirit and military
|
|
Prowess have their Flows, as well as their ebbs, in every nation, and
|
|
that the Tide is never so low but it may rise again; But should this
|
|
dreaded fatal change happen in my time, how should I even in the
|
|
midst of the Affliction rejoice, if we have been able to preserve
|
|
those invaluable treasures, and can invite the good among you to come
|
|
and partake of them! O let not Britain seek to oppress us, but like
|
|
an affectionate parent endeavour to secure freedom to her children;
|
|
they may be able one day to assist her in defending her own --
|
|
Whereas a Mortification begun in the Foot may spread upwards to the
|
|
destruction of the nobler parts of the Body.
|
|
|
|
I fear I have already extended this rambling letter beyond your
|
|
patience, and therefore conclude with requesting your acceptance of
|
|
the inclosed Pamphlet from Sir Your most humble servant
|
|
|
|
DOING GOOD AND RELIGIOUS BIGOTS
|
|
|
|
_To Joseph Huey_
|
|
|
|
Sir, Philada. June 6. 1753
|
|
I received your kind Letter of the 2d Inst. and am glad to hear
|
|
that you increase in Strength; I hope you will continue mending till
|
|
you recover your former Health and Firmness. Let me know whether you
|
|
still use the cold Bath, and what Effect it has.
|
|
|
|
As to the Kindness you mention, I wish it could have been of
|
|
more Service to you. But if it had, the only Thanks I should desire
|
|
is, that you would always be equally ready to serve any other Person
|
|
that may need your Assistance, and so let good Offices go round, for
|
|
Mankind are all of a Family.
|
|
|
|
For my own Part, when I am employed in serving others, I do not
|
|
look upon my self as conferring Favours, but as paying Debts. In my
|
|
Travels and since my Settlement I have received much Kindness from
|
|
Men, to whom I shall never have any Opportunity of making the least
|
|
direct Return. And numberless Mercies from God, who is infinitely
|
|
above being benefited by our Services. These Kindnesses from Men I
|
|
can therefore only return on their Fellow-Men; and I can only show my
|
|
Gratitude for those Mercies from God, by a Readiness to help his
|
|
other Children and my Brethren. For I do not think that Thanks, and
|
|
Compliments, tho' repeated Weekly, can discharge our real Obligations
|
|
to each other, and much less those to our Creator.
|
|
|
|
You will see in this my Notion of Good Works, that I am far
|
|
from expecting (as you suppose) that I shall merit Heaven by them.
|
|
By Heaven we understand, a State of Happiness, infinite in Degree,
|
|
and eternal in Duration: I can do nothing to deserve such Reward: He
|
|
that for giving a Draught of Water to a thirsty Person should expect
|
|
to be paid with a good Plantation, would be modest in his Demands,
|
|
compar'd with those who think they deserve Heaven for the little Good
|
|
they do on Earth. Even the mix'd imperfect Pleasures we enjoy in
|
|
this World are rather from God's Goodness than our Merit; how much
|
|
more such Happiness of Heaven. For my own part, I have not the
|
|
Vanity to think I deserve it, the Folly to expect it, nor the
|
|
Ambition to desire it; but content myself in submitting to the Will
|
|
and Disposal of that God who made me, who has hitherto preserv'd and
|
|
bless'd me, and in whose fatherly Goodness I may well confide, that
|
|
he will never make me miserable, and that even the Afflictions I may
|
|
at any time suffer shall tend to my Benefit.
|
|
|
|
The Faith you mention has doubtless its use in the World; I do
|
|
not desire to see it diminished, nor would I endeavour to lessen it
|
|
in any Man. But I wish it were more productive of Good Works than I
|
|
have generally seen it: I mean real good Works, Works of Kindness,
|
|
Charity, Mercy, and Publick Spirit; not Holiday-keeping,
|
|
Sermon-Reading or Hearing, performing Church Ceremonies, or making
|
|
long Prayers, fill'd with Flatteries and Compliments, despis'd even
|
|
by wise Men, and much less capable of pleasing the Deity. The
|
|
Worship of God is a Duty, the hearing and reading of Sermons may be
|
|
useful; but if Men rest in Hearing and Praying, as too many do, it is
|
|
as if a Tree should value itself on being water'd and putting forth
|
|
Leaves, tho' it never produc'd any Fruit.
|
|
|
|
Your great Master tho't much less of these outward Appearances
|
|
and Professions than many of his modern Disciples. He prefer'd the
|
|
Doers of the Word to the meer Hearers; the Son that seemingly refus'd
|
|
to obey his Father and yet perform'd his Commands, to him that
|
|
profess'd his Readiness but neglected the Works; the heretical but
|
|
charitable Samaritan, to the uncharitable tho' orthodox Priest and
|
|
sanctified Levite: and those who gave Food to the hungry, Drink to
|
|
the Thirsty, Raiment to the Naked, Entertainment to the Stranger, and
|
|
Relief to the Sick, &c. tho' they never heard of his Name, he
|
|
declares shall in the last Day be accepted, when those who cry Lord,
|
|
Lord; who value themselves on their Faith tho' great enough to
|
|
perform Miracles but have neglected good Works shall be rejected. He
|
|
profess'd that he came not to call the Righteous but Sinners to
|
|
Repentance; which imply'd his modest Opinion that there were some in
|
|
his Time so good that they need not hear even him for Improvement;
|
|
but now a days we have scarce a little Parson, that does not think it
|
|
the Duty of every Man within his Reach to sit under his petty
|
|
Ministrations, and that whoever omits them offends God. I wish to
|
|
such more Humility, and to you Health and Happiness, being Your
|
|
Friend and Servant
|
|
|
|
"KISSES IN THAT WIND"
|
|
|
|
_To Catharine Ray_
|
|
|
|
Dear Katy, Philada. March 4. 1755
|
|
Your kind Letter of January 20. is but just come to hand, and I
|
|
take this first Opportunity of acknowledging the Favour.
|
|
|
|
It gives me great Pleasure to hear that you got home safe and
|
|
well that Day. I thought too much was hazarded, when I saw you put
|
|
off to Sea in that very little Skiff, toss'd by every Wave. But the
|
|
Call was strong and just, a sick Parent. I stood on the Shore, and
|
|
look'd after you, till I could no longer distinguish you, even with
|
|
my Glass; then returned to your Sister's, praying for your safe
|
|
Passage. Towards Evening all agreed that you must certainly be
|
|
arriv'd before that time, the Weather having been so favourable;
|
|
which made me more easy and chearful, for I had been truly concern'd
|
|
for you.
|
|
|
|
I left New England slowly, and with great Reluctance: Short
|
|
Days Journeys, and loitering Visits on the Road, for three or four
|
|
Weeks, manifested my Unwillingness to quit a Country in which I drew
|
|
my first Breath, spent my earliest and most pleasant Days, and had
|
|
now received so many fresh Marks of the People's Goodness and
|
|
Benevolence, in the kind and affectionate Treatment I had every where
|
|
met with. I almost forgot I had a Home; till I was more than
|
|
half-way towards it; till I had, one by one, parted with all my New
|
|
England Friends, and was got into the western Borders of Connecticut,
|
|
among meer Strangers: then, like an old Man, who, having buried all
|
|
he lov'd in this World, begins to think of Heaven, I begun to think
|
|
of and wish for Home; and as I drew nearer, I found the Attraction
|
|
stronger and stronger, my Diligence and Speed increas'd with my
|
|
Impatience, I drove on violently, and made such long Stretches that a
|
|
very few Days brought me to my own House, and to the Arms of my good
|
|
old Wife and Children, where I remain, Thanks to God, at present well
|
|
and happy.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Persons subject to the Hyp, complain of the North East Wind as
|
|
increasing their Malady. But since you promis'd to send me Kisses in
|
|
that Wind, and I find you as good as your Word, 'tis to me the gayest
|
|
Wind that blows, and gives me the best Spirits. I write this during
|
|
a N. East Storm of Snow, the greatest we have had this Winter: Your
|
|
Favours come mixd with the Snowy Fleeces which are pure as your
|
|
Virgin Innocence, white as your lovely Bosom, -- and as cold: -- But
|
|
let it warm towards some worthy young Man, and may Heaven bless you
|
|
both with every kind of Happiness.
|
|
|
|
I desired Miss Anna Ward, to send you over a little Book I left
|
|
with her; for your Amusement in that lonely Island. My Respects to
|
|
your good Father and Mother, and Sister unknown. Let me often hear
|
|
of your Welfare, since it is not likely I shall ever again have the
|
|
Pleasure of seeing you. Accept mine, and my Wife's sincere Thanks
|
|
for the many Civilities I receiv'd from you and your Relations; and
|
|
do me the Justice to believe me, Dear Girl, Your affectionate
|
|
faithful Friend and humble Servant
|
|
|
|
My respectful Compliments to your good Brother Ward, and
|
|
Sister; and to the agreable Family of the Wards at Newport when you
|
|
see them. Adieu.
|
|
|
|
"ONE OF GODS NOBILITY"
|
|
|
|
_To Joshua Babcock_
|
|
|
|
Dear Sir Philada. Sept. 1. 1755
|
|
I beg Leave to introduce to you the Revd. Mr. Allison Rector of
|
|
our Academy; a Person of great Ingenuity and Learning, a catholic
|
|
Divine, and what is more, an _Honest Man_; For as Pope says
|
|
|
|
A Wit's a Feather, and a Chief's a Rod;
|
|
An honest Man's the _noblest_ Work of God.
|
|
|
|
By Entertaining then this Gent. with your accustomed
|
|
Hospitality and Benevolence, you will Entertain one of the Nobility.
|
|
I mean one of _Gods_ Nobility; for as to the _Kings_, there are many
|
|
of them not worthy your Notice.
|
|
|
|
Do me the Favour to make my Compliments acceptable to your good
|
|
Lady, Sisters and Children in whose most agreeable Company I passed
|
|
those Chearful Winter Evenings, which I remember with high Pleasure.
|
|
I am, with the greatest Esteem and Respect, Dear Sir Your most
|
|
Obedient and Most humble Servant
|
|
|
|
ADDITION, SUBTRACTION, AND MULTIPLICATION
|
|
|
|
_To Catharine Ray_
|
|
|
|
Dear Katy Philadelphia Oct. 16. 1755
|
|
Your Favour of the 28th of June came to hand but the 28th of
|
|
September, just 3 Months after it was written. I had, two Weeks
|
|
before, wrote you a long Chat, and sent it to the Care of your
|
|
Brother Ward. I hear you are now in Boston, gay and lovely as usual.
|
|
Let me give you some fatherly Advice. Kill no more Pigeons than you
|
|
can eat. Be a good Girl, and don't forget your Catechise. Go
|
|
constantly to Meeting -- or Church -- till you get a good Husband;
|
|
then stay at home, and nurse the Children, and live like a Christian.
|
|
Spend your spare Hours, in sober Whisk, Prayers, or learning to
|
|
cypher. You must practise _Addition_ to your Husband's Estate, by
|
|
Industry and Frugality; _Subtraction_ of all unnecessary Expences;
|
|
_Multiplication_ (I would gladly have taught you that myself, but you
|
|
thought it was time enough, and wou'dn't learn) he will soon make you
|
|
a Mistress of it. As to _Division_, I say with Brother Paul, _Let
|
|
there be no Divisions among ye._ But as your good Sister Hubbard (my
|
|
Love to her) is well acquainted with _The Rule of Two_, I hope you
|
|
will become as expert in the _Rule of Three_; that when I have again
|
|
the Pleasure of seeing you, I may find you like my Grape Vine,
|
|
surrounded with Clusters, plump, juicy, blushing, pretty little
|
|
rogues, like their Mama. Adieu. The Bell rings, and I must go among
|
|
the Grave ones, and talk Politicks. Your affectionate Friend
|
|
|
|
|
|
P.S. The Plums came safe, and were so sweet from the Cause you
|
|
mention'd, that I could scarce taste the Sugar.
|
|
|
|
"THE QUANTITY OF HUMAN IGNORANCE"
|
|
|
|
_To William Shipley_
|
|
|
|
Philada. Nov. 27. 1755.
|
|
I have just received your very obliging Favour of the 13th.
|
|
September last; and as this Ship sails immediately, have little more
|
|
time than to thank you cordially for communicating to me the Papers
|
|
relating to your most laudable Undertaking, and to assure you, that I
|
|
should esteem the being admitted into such a Society as a
|
|
corresponding Member, a very great Honour, which I should be glad I
|
|
could in the least deserve, by promoting in any Degree so useful an
|
|
Institution. But tho' you do not require your Correspondents to bear
|
|
any Part of your Expence, you will I hope permit me to throw my Mite
|
|
into your Fund, and accept of 20 Guineas I purpose to send you
|
|
shortly, to be apply'd in Premiums for some Improvement _in Britain_,
|
|
as a grateful, tho' small, Return for your most kind and generous
|
|
Intentions of Encouraging Improvements _in America._ I flatter
|
|
myself, from that Part of your Plan, that those Jealousies of her
|
|
Colonies, which were formerly entertained by the Mother Country,
|
|
begin to subside. I once wrote a little Paper, tending to show that
|
|
such Jealousies with Regard to Manufactures were ill-founded. It was
|
|
lately printed in Boston at the End of a Pamphlet which I take the
|
|
Liberty to send you. Never be discouraged by any Apprehension that
|
|
Arts are come to such Perfection in England, as to be incapable of
|
|
farther Improvement. As yet, the Quantity of Human Knowledge bears
|
|
no Proportion to the Quantity of Human Ignorance. The Improvements
|
|
made within these 2000 Years, considerable as they are, would have
|
|
been much more so, if the Ancients had possess'd one or two Arts now
|
|
in common Use, I mean those of Copper Plate- and Letter-Printing.
|
|
Whatever is now exactly delineated and describ'd by those, can
|
|
scarcely (from the Multitude of Copies) be lost to Posterity. And
|
|
the Knowledge of small Matters being preserv'd, gives the Hint and is
|
|
sometimes the Occasion of great Discoveries, perhaps Ages after.
|
|
|
|
The French War, which came on in 1744, took off our Thoughts
|
|
from the Prosecution of my Proposal for Promoting useful Knowledge in
|
|
America; and I have ever since the Peace been so engag'd in other
|
|
Schemes of various kinds and in publick Affairs, as not to find
|
|
Leisure to revive that useful and very practicable Project. But if I
|
|
live to see our present Disturbances over in this Part of the World,
|
|
I shall apply my self to it with fresh Spirit, as beside the Good
|
|
that may be done, I hope to make myself thereby a more valuable
|
|
Correspondent.
|
|
|
|
You will greatly oblige me by the Communication of the
|
|
Inventions and Improvements you mention. And as it is a Maxim in
|
|
Commerce, That there is no Trade without Returns, I shall be always
|
|
endeavouring to ballance Accounts with you, tho' probably never able
|
|
to accomplish it.
|
|
|
|
I am, Sir, Your most obedient humble Servant
|
|
|
|
"WE ARE SPIRITS"
|
|
|
|
_To Elizabeth Hubbart_
|
|
|
|
DEAR CHILD, PHILADELPHIA, February 22, 1756.
|
|
I condole with you, we have lost a most dear and valuable
|
|
relation, but it is the will of God and Nature that these mortal
|
|
bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to enter into real life; 'tis
|
|
rather an embrio state, a preparation for living; a man is not
|
|
completely born until he be dead: Why then should we grieve that a
|
|
new child is born among the immortals? A new member added to their
|
|
happy society? We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while
|
|
they can afford us pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, or
|
|
doing good to our fellow creatures, is a kind and benevolent act of
|
|
God -- when they become unfit for these purposes and afford us pain
|
|
instead of pleasure -- instead of an aid, become an incumbrance and
|
|
answer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is
|
|
equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by which we may
|
|
get rid of them. Death is that way. We ourselves prudently choose a
|
|
partial death. In some cases a mangled painful limb, which cannot be
|
|
restored, we willingly cut off -- He who plucks out a tooth, parts
|
|
with it freely since the pain goes with it, and he that quits the
|
|
whole body, parts at once with all pains and possibilities of pains
|
|
and diseases it was liable to, or capable of making him suffer.
|
|
|
|
Our friend and we are invited abroad on a party of pleasure --
|
|
that is to last forever -- His chair was first ready and he is gone
|
|
before us -- we could not all conveniently start together, and why
|
|
should you and I be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and
|
|
we know where to find him. Adieu,
|
|
|
|
HEAT AND COLD
|
|
|
|
_To John Lining_
|
|
|
|
Sir, New-York, April 14. 1757.
|
|
It is a long Time since I had the Pleasure of a Line from you.
|
|
And indeed the Troubles of our Country, with the Hurry of Business, I
|
|
have been engag'd in on that Account, have made me so bad a
|
|
Correspondent, that I ought not to expect Punctuality in others.
|
|
|
|
But being just taking Passage for England, I could not leave
|
|
the Continent, without paying my Respects to you, and at the same
|
|
Time taking Leave to introduce to your Acquaintance a Gentleman of
|
|
Learning and Merit, Col. Henry Bouquet, who does me the Favour to
|
|
present you this Letter, and with whom I am sure you will be much
|
|
pleased.
|
|
|
|
Mr. Professor Simpson of Glasgow, lately communicated to me
|
|
some curious Experiments of a Physician of his Acquaintance, by which
|
|
it appeared that an extraordinary Degree of Cold, even to Freezing,
|
|
might be produced by Evaporation. I have not had Leisure to repeat
|
|
and examine more than the first and easiest of them, viz. Wet the
|
|
Ball of a Thermometer by a Feather dipt in Spirit of Wine, which has
|
|
been kept in the same Room, and has of Course the same Degree of Heat
|
|
or Cold. The Mercury sinks presently 3 or 4 Degrees, and the quicker
|
|
if during the Evaporation you blow on the Ball with Bellows; a second
|
|
Wetting and Blowing when the Mercury is down, carries it yet lower.
|
|
I think I did not get it lower than 5 or 6 Degrees from where it
|
|
naturally stood, which was at that time 60. But it is said, that a
|
|
Vessel of Water being plac'd in another somewhat larger containing
|
|
Spirit, in such a Manner that the Vessel of Water is surrounded with
|
|
the Spirit, and both plac'd under the Receiver of an Air-pump, on
|
|
Exhausting the Air, the Spirit evaporating leaves such a Degree of
|
|
Cold as to freeze the Water, tho' the Thermometer in the open Air
|
|
stands many Degrees above the Freezing Point.
|
|
|
|
I know not how this Phenomenon is to be accounted for, but it
|
|
gives me Occasion to mention some loose Notions relating to Heat and
|
|
Cold, which I have for some Time entertain'd, but not yet reduc'd
|
|
into any Form. Allowing common Fire as well as the Electrical, to be
|
|
a Fluid, capable of permeating other Bodies, and seeking an
|
|
Equilibrium, I imagine some Bodies are better fitted by Nature to be
|
|
Conductors of that Fluid than others; and that generally those which
|
|
are the best Conductors of the Electrical Fluid, are also the best
|
|
Conductors of this; and e contra. Thus a Body which is a good
|
|
Conductor of Fire readily receives it into its Substance, and
|
|
conducts it thro' the Whole to all the Parts; as Metals and Water do;
|
|
and if two Bodies, both good Conductors, one heated, the other in its
|
|
common State, are brought into Contact with each other, the Body
|
|
which has most Fire, readily communicates of it to that which had
|
|
least; and that which had least readily receives it, till an
|
|
Equilibrium is produced. Thus, if you take a Dollar between your
|
|
Fingers with one Hand, and a Piece of Wood of the same Dimensions
|
|
with the other, and bring both at the same Time to the Flame of a
|
|
Candle, you will find yourself obliged to drop the Dollar before you
|
|
drop the Wood, because it conducts the Heat of the Candle sooner to
|
|
your Flesh. Thus, if a Silver Teapot had a Handle of the same Metal,
|
|
it would conduct the Heat from the Water to the Hand, and become too
|
|
hot to be used; we therefore give to a Metal Teapot a Handle of Wood,
|
|
which is not so good a Conductor as Metal. But a China or Stone
|
|
Teapot being in some Degree of the Nature of Glass, which is not a
|
|
good Conductor of Heat, may have a Handle of the same Stuff. Thus
|
|
also a damp moist Air shall make a Man more sensible of Cold, or
|
|
chill him more than a dry Air that is colder, because a moist Air is
|
|
fitter to receive and conduct away the Heat of his Body. This Fluid
|
|
entring Bodies in great Quantity, first expands them by separating
|
|
their Parts a little, afterwards by farther separating their Parts,
|
|
it renders solids fluid, and at length dissipates their Parts in Air.
|
|
Take this Fluid from melted Lead, or from Water, the Parts cohere
|
|
again, the first grows solid, the latter becomes Ice. And this is
|
|
soonest done by the Means of good Conductors. Thus, if you take (as
|
|
I have done) a square Bar of Lead, 4 Inches long, and 1 Inch thick,
|
|
together with 3 Pieces of Wood planed to the same Dimensions, and lay
|
|
them as in the Margin, on a smooth Board, fix'd so as not to be
|
|
easily separated or moved, and pour into the square Cavity they form
|
|
as much melted Lead as will fill it, you will see the melted Lead
|
|
chill and become firm on the Side next the Leaden Bar, some Time
|
|
before it chills on the other three Sides in Contact with the Wooden
|
|
Bars; tho' before the Lead was poured in, they might all be supposed
|
|
to have the same Degree of Heat or Coldness, as they had been exposed
|
|
in the same Room to the same Air. You will likewise observe, that
|
|
the leaden Bar, as it has cooled the melted Lead more than the wooden
|
|
Bars have done, so it is itself more heated by the melted Lead.
|
|
There is a certain Quantity of this Fluid, called Fire, in every
|
|
living human Body, which Fluid, being in due Proportion, keeps the
|
|
Parts of the Flesh and Blood at such a just Distance from each other,
|
|
as that the Flesh and Nerves are suple, and the Blood fit for
|
|
Circulation. If Part of this due Proportion of Fire be conducted
|
|
away by Means of a Contact with other Bodies, as Air, Water, or
|
|
Metals, the Parts of our Skin and Flesh that come into such Contact,
|
|
first draw more near together than is agreeable, and give that
|
|
Sensation which we call Cold, and if too much be conveyed away, the
|
|
Body stiffens, the Blood ceases to flow, and Death ensues. On the
|
|
other Hand, if too much of this Fluid be communicated to the Flesh,
|
|
the Parts are separated too far, and Pain ensues as when they are
|
|
separated by a Pin or Lancet. The Sensation that the Separation by
|
|
Fire occasions, we call Heat, or Burning. My Desk, on which I now
|
|
write, and the Lock of my Desk, are both expos'd to the same
|
|
Temperature of the Air, and have therefore the same Degree of Heat
|
|
and Cold; yet if I lay my Hand successively on the Wood and on the
|
|
Metal, the latter feels much the Coldest; not that it is really so,
|
|
but being a better Conductor, it more readily than the Wood takes
|
|
away and draws into it self the Fire that was in my Skin.
|
|
Accordingly, if I lay one Hand, Part on the Lock, and Part on the
|
|
Wood, and after it has lain so some Time I feel both Parts with my
|
|
other Hand, I find the Part that has been in Contact with the Lock,
|
|
very sensibly colder to the Touch than the Part that lay on the Wood.
|
|
How a living Animal obtains its Quantity of this Fluid called Fire,
|
|
is a curious Question. I have shown that some Bodies (as Metals)
|
|
have a Power of Attracting it stronger than others, and I have
|
|
sometimes suspected that a living Body had some Power of Attracting
|
|
out of the Air or other Bodies the Heat it wanted. Thus Metal
|
|
hammer'd or repeatedly bent, grows hot in the bent or hammered Part.
|
|
But when I consider'd that Air in contact with the Body cools it;
|
|
that the surrounding Air is rather heated by its Contact with the
|
|
Body; that every Breath of cooler Air drawn in, carries off Part of
|
|
the Body's Heat when it passes out again: That therefore there must
|
|
be in the Body a Fund for producing it, or otherwise the Animal would
|
|
soon grow cold: I have been rather enclin'd to think that the Fluid,
|
|
_Fire_, as well as the Fluid, _Air_, is attracted by Plants in their
|
|
Growth, and becomes consolidated with the other Materials of which
|
|
they are formed, and makes a great Part of their Substance. That
|
|
when they come to be digested, and to suffer in the Vessels a Kind of
|
|
Fermentation, Part of the Fire as well as Part of the Air, recovers
|
|
its fluid Active State again, and diffuses itself in the Body
|
|
digesting and separating it. That the Fire so reproduc'd by
|
|
Digestion and Separation, continually leaving the Body, its Place is
|
|
supply'd by fresh Quantities arising from the continual Separation.
|
|
That whatever quickens the Motion of the Fluids in an Animal,
|
|
quickens the Separation, and reproduces more of the Fire, as
|
|
Exercise. That all the Fire emitted by Wood and other Combustibles
|
|
when burning, existed in them before in a solid State, being only
|
|
discovered when separating. That some Fossils, as Sulphur, Seacoal,
|
|
&c. contain a great deal of solid Fire; that Gunpowder is almost all
|
|
solid Fire: And that, in short, what excapes and is dissipated in the
|
|
Burning of Bodies, besides Water and Earth, is generally the Air and
|
|
Fire that before made Parts of the solid. Thus I imagin that Animal
|
|
Heat arises by or from a Kind of Fermentation in the Juices of the
|
|
Body, in the same Manner as Heat arises in the liquors preparing for
|
|
Distillation; wherein there is a Separation of the spirituous from
|
|
the watry and earthy Parts. And it is remarkable, that the Liquor in
|
|
the Distiller's Vat, when in its highest and best State of
|
|
Fermentation, shows by the Thermometer, as I have been informed, the
|
|
same Degree of Heat with the human Body, that is about 94 or 96.
|
|
Thus, as by a constant Supply of Fuel in a Chimney, you keep a warm
|
|
Room, so by a constant Supply of Food in the Stomach, you keep a warm
|
|
Body. Only where little Exercise is used, the Heat may possibly be
|
|
conducted away too fast, in which Case such Materials are to be used
|
|
for Cloathing and Bedding, against the Effect of an immediate Contact
|
|
of the Air, as are in themselves bad Conductors of Heat, and
|
|
consequently prevent its being communicated thro' their Substance to
|
|
the Air. Hence what is called _Warmth_ in Wool, and its Preference
|
|
on that Account to Linen; Wool not being so good a Conductor. And
|
|
hence all the natural Coverings of Animals to keep them warm, are
|
|
such, as retain and confine the natural Heat in the Body, by being
|
|
bad Conductors; such as Wool, Hair, Feathers, and the Silk by which
|
|
the Silk-worm in its tender embrio State is first cloathed.
|
|
Cloathing, thus considered, does not make a Man warm, by _giving_
|
|
Warmth, but by preventing the too quick Dissipation of the Heat
|
|
produc'd in his Body, and so occasioning an Accumulation.
|
|
|
|
|
|
There is another curious Question I will just venture to touch
|
|
upon, viz. Whence arises the sudden extraordinary Degree of Cold,
|
|
perceptible on mixing some Chymical Liquors, and even on mixing Salt
|
|
and Snow, where the Composition appears colder than the coldest of
|
|
the Ingredients? I have never seen the chymical Mixtures made, but
|
|
Salt and Snow I have often mixed myself, and am fully satisfied that
|
|
the Composition feels much colder to the Touch, and lowers the
|
|
Mercury in the Thermometer more than either Ingredient would do
|
|
separately. I suppose with others, that Cold is nothing more than an
|
|
Absence of Heat or Fire. Now if the Quantity of Fire before
|
|
contain'd or diffus'd in the Snow and Salt, was expell'd in the
|
|
Uniting of the two Matters, it must be driven away either thro' the
|
|
Air or the Vessel containing them. If it is driven off thro' the
|
|
Air, it must warm the Air, and a Thermometer held over the Mixture
|
|
without touching it, would discover the Heat by the Rising of the
|
|
Mercury, as it must and always does in warmer Air. This indeed I
|
|
have not try'd; but I should guess it would rather be driven off
|
|
thro' the Vessel, especially if the Vessel be Metal, as being a
|
|
better Conductor than Air, and so one should find the Bason warmer
|
|
after such Mixture. But on the contrary the Vessel grows cold, and
|
|
even Water in which the Vessel is sometimes plac'd for the
|
|
Experiment, freezes into hard Ice on the Bason. Now I know not how
|
|
to account for this otherwise than by supposing, that the Composition
|
|
is a better Conductor of Fire than the Ingredients separately, and
|
|
like the Lock compar'd with the Wood, has a stronger Power of
|
|
Attracting Fire, and does accordingly attract it suddenly from the
|
|
Fingers or a Thermometer put into it, from the Bason that contains
|
|
it, and from the Water in contact with the Outside of the Bason, so
|
|
that the Fingers have the Sensation of extream Cold, by being
|
|
depriv'd of much of their natural Fire; the Thermometer sinks, by
|
|
having part of its Fire drawn out of the Mercury; the Bason grows
|
|
colder to the Touch, as by having its Fire drawn into the Mixture, it
|
|
is become more capable of drawing and receiving it from the Hand; and
|
|
thro' the Bason the Water loses its Fire that kept it fluid, so it
|
|
becomes Ice. One would expect, That from all this attracted
|
|
Acquisition of Fire to the Composition, it should become warmer; and
|
|
in fact, the Snow and Salt dissolves at the same Time into Water
|
|
without freezing.
|
|
|
|
I doubt whether in all this I have talked intelligibly; and
|
|
indeed how should a Man do so, that does not himself clearly
|
|
understand the Thing he talks of. This I confess to be my present
|
|
Case. I intended to amuse you, but I fear I have done more, and
|
|
tired you. Be so good as to excuse it, and believe me, with sincere
|
|
Esteem and Respect, Sir, Your most obedient humble Servant
|
|
|
|
"OLD FOLKS AND OLD TREES"
|
|
|
|
_To Jane Mecom_
|
|
|
|
Dear Sister New York, April 19. 1757
|
|
I wrote a few Lines to you yesterday, but omitted to answer
|
|
yours relating to Sister Douse: As _having their own Way_, is one of
|
|
the greatest Comforts of Life, to old People, I think their Friends
|
|
should endeavour to accommodate them in that, as well as in any thing
|
|
else. When they have long liv'd in a House, it becomes natural to
|
|
them, they are almost as closely connected with it as the Tortoise
|
|
with his Shell, they die if you tear them out of it. Old Folks and
|
|
old Trees, if you remove them, tis ten to one that you kill them. So
|
|
let our good old Sister be no more importun'd on that head. We are
|
|
growing old fast ourselves, and shall expect the same kind of
|
|
Indulgencies. If we give them, we shall have a Right to receive them
|
|
in our Turn.
|
|
|
|
And as to her few fine Things, I think she is in the right not
|
|
to sell them, and for the Reason she gives, that they will fetch but
|
|
little. When that little is spent, they would be of no farther use
|
|
to her; but perhaps the Expectation of Possessing them at her Death,
|
|
may make that Person tender and careful of her, and helpful to her,
|
|
to the amount of ten times their Value. If so, they are put to the
|
|
best Use they possibly can be.
|
|
|
|
I hope you visit Sister as often as your Affairs will permit,
|
|
and afford her what Assistance and Comfort you can, in her present
|
|
Situation. _Old Age_, _Infirmities_, and _Poverty_, join'd, are
|
|
Afflictions enough; the _Neglect and Slight_ of Friends and near
|
|
Relations, should never be added. People in her Circumstances are
|
|
apt to suspect this sometimes without Cause; _Appearances_ should
|
|
therefore be attended to, in our Conduct towards them, as well as
|
|
_Realities._
|
|
|
|
I write by this Post to Cousin Williams, to continue his Care,
|
|
which I doubt not he will do.
|
|
|
|
We expect to sail in about a Week, so that I can hardly hear
|
|
from you again on this Side the Water. But let me have a Line from
|
|
you now and then while I am in London. I expect to stay there at
|
|
least a 12 month. Direct your Letters to be left for me at the
|
|
Pensilvania Coffee House in Birchin Lane London. My Love to all,
|
|
from Dear Sister, Your affectionate Brother
|
|
|
|
PS. April 25. We are still here, and perhaps may be here a
|
|
Week longer, Once more Adieu my dear Sister.
|
|
|
|
"THEY EXPECT TOO MUCH OF ME"
|
|
|
|
_To Jane Mecom_
|
|
|
|
DEAR SISTER, _New York, May_ 30, 1757.
|
|
I have before me yours of the 9th and 16th instant: I am glad
|
|
you have resolved to visit sister Dowse oftener; it will be a great
|
|
comfort to her, to find she is not neglected by you, and your example
|
|
may, perhaps, be followed by some other of her relations.
|
|
|
|
As Neddy is yet a young man, I hope he may get over the
|
|
disorder he complains of, and in time wear it out. My love to him
|
|
and his wife and the rest of your children. It gives me pleasure to
|
|
hear that Eben is likely to get into business at his trade. If he
|
|
will be industrious and frugal, 'tis ten to one but he gets rich, for
|
|
he seems to have spirit and activity.
|
|
|
|
I am glad that Peter is acquainted with the crown soap
|
|
business, so as to make what is good of the kind. I hope he will
|
|
always take care to make it faithfully, never slight manufacture, or
|
|
attempt to deceive by appearances. Then he may boldly put his name
|
|
and mark, and in a little time it will acquire as good a character as
|
|
that made by his late uncle, or any other person whatever. I believe
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his aunt at Philadelphia, can help him to sell a good deal of it; and
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I doubt not of her doing every thing in her power to promote his
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interest in that way. Let a box be sent to her (but not unless it be
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right good) and she will immediately return the ready money for it.
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It was beginning once to be in vogue in Philadelphia, but brother
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John sent me one box, an ordinary sort, which checked its progress.
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I would not have him put the Franklin arms on it; but the soapboilers
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arms he has a right to use, if he thinks fit. The other would look
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|
too much like an attempt to counterfeit. In his advertisements, he
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|
may value himself on serving his time with the original maker, but
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|
put his own mark or device on the papers, or any thing he may be
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|
advised to as proper; only on the soap, as it is called by the name
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|
of crown soap, it seems necessary to use a stamp of that sort, and
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|
perhaps no soapboiler in the king's dominions has a better right to
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|
the crown than himself.
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|
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Nobody has wrote a syllable to me concerning his making use of
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|
the hammer, or made the least complaint of him or you. I am sorry
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|
however that he took it without leave. It was irregular, and if you
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|
had not approved of his doing it, I should have thought it
|
|
indiscreet. _Leave_ they say is _light_, and it seems to me a piece
|
|
of respect that was due to his aunt to ask it, and I can scarce think
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|
she would have refused him the favour.
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|
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|
I am glad to hear Jamey is so good and diligent a workman; if
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|
he ever sets up at the goldsmith's business, he must remember that
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|
there is one accomplishment without which he cannot possibly thrive
|
|
in that trade, (i. e. _to be perfectly honest_). It is a business
|
|
that though ever so uprightly managed, is always liable to suspicion;
|
|
and if a man is once detected in the smallest fraud it soon becomes
|
|
public, and every one is put upon their guard against him; no one
|
|
will venture to try his hands, or trust him to make up their plate;
|
|
so at once he is ruined. I hope my nephew will therefore establish a
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|
character as an _honest_ and faithful, as well as _skilful_ workman,
|
|
and then he need not fear employment.
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|
|
|
And now as to what you propose for Benny I believe he may be,
|
|
as you say, well enough qualified for it, and when he appears to be
|
|
settled, if a vacancy should happen, it is very probable he may be
|
|
thought of to supply it; but it is a rule with me, not to remove any
|
|
officer that behaves well, keeps regular accounts, and pays duly; and
|
|
I think the rule is founded on reason and justice. I have not shown
|
|
any backwardness to assist Benny, where it could be done without
|
|
injuring another. But if my friends require of me to gratify not
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|
only their inclinations, but their resentments, they expect too much
|
|
of me. Above all things I dislike family quarrels, and when they
|
|
happen among my relations, nothing gives me more pain. If I were to
|
|
set myself up as a judge of those subsisting between you and
|
|
brother's widow and children, how unqualified must I be, at this
|
|
distance, to determine rightly, especially having heard but one side.
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|
They always treated me with friendly and affectionate regard, you
|
|
have done the same. What can I say between you, but that I wish you
|
|
were reconciled, and that I will love that side best that is most
|
|
ready to forgive and oblige the other. You will be angry with me
|
|
here, for putting you and them too much upon a footing, but I shall
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|
nevertheless be,
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|
Dear sister, your truly
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|
Affectionate brother,
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|
.
|