1. Temperance
Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.
2. Silence
Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid
trifling conversation.
3. Order
Let all your things have their places; let each part of your
business have its time.
4. Resolution
Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail
what you resolve.
5. Frugality
Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e.,
waste nothing.
6. Industry
Lose no time; be always employ'd in something useful; cut
off all unnecessary actions.
7. Sincerity
Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you
speak, speak accordingly.
8. Justice
Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that
are your duty.
9. Moderation
Avoid extreams; forbear resenting injuries so much as you
think they deserve.
10. Cleanliness
Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation.
11. Tranquillity
Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.
12. Chastity
Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dulness,
weakness, or the injury of your own or another's peace or
reputation.
13. Humility
Imitate Jesus and Socrates.
My intention being to acquire the habitude of all these virtues,
I judg'd it would be well not to distract my attention by attempting
the whole at once, but to fix it on one of them at a time; and,
when I should be master of that, then to proceed to another, and
so on, till I should have gone thro' the thirteen; and, as the
previous acquisition of some might facilitate the acquisition of
certain others, I arrang'd them with that view, as they stand
above. Temperance first, as it tends to procure that coolness
and clearness of head, which is so necessary where constant
vigilance was to be kept up, and guard maintained against the
unremitting attraction of ancient habits, and the force of perpetual
temptations. This being acquir'd and establish'd, Silence
would be more easy; and my desire being to gain knowledge at
the same time that I improv'd in virtue, and considering that in
conversation it was obtain'd rather by the use of the ears than of
the tongue, and therefore wishing to break a habit I was getting
into of prattling, punning, and joking, which only made me
acceptable to trifling company, I gave Silence the second place.
This and the next, Order, I expected would allow me more
time for attending to my project and my studies. Resolution,
once become habitual, would keep me firm in my endeavours to
obtain all the subsequent virtues; Frugality and Industry freeing
me from my remaining debt, and producing affluence and independence,
would make more easy the practice of Sincerity
and Justice, etc., etc. Conceiving then, that, agreeably to the
advice of Pythagoras in his Golden Verses, daily examination
would be necessary, I contrived the following method for conducting
that examination.
I made a little book,[12] in which I allotted a page for each of
the virtues. I rul'd each page with red ink, so as to have seven
columns, one for each day of the week, marking each column
with a letter for the day. I cross'd these columns with thirteen
red lines, marking the beginning of each line with the first letter
of one of the virtues, on which line, and in its proper column,
I might mark, by a little black spot, every fault I found upon
examination to have been committed respecting that virtue upon
that day.
Form of the Pages
| TEMPERANCE. |
EAT NOT TO DULNESS.
DRINK NOT TO ELEVATION. |
| | S. | M. | T. | W. | T. | F. | S. |
| T. | | | | | | | |
| S. | * | * | | * | | * | |
| O. | * * | * | * | | * | * | * |
| R. | | | * | | | * | |
| F. | | * | | | * | | |
| I. | | | * | | | | |
| S. | | | | | | | |
| J. | | | | | | | |
| M. | | | | | | | |
| C. | | | | | | | |
| T. | | | | | | | |
| C. | | | | | | | |
| H. | | | | | | | |
I determined to give a week's strict attention to each of the
virtues successively. Thus, in the first week, my great guard
was to avoid every the least offence against Temperance, leaving
the other virtues to their ordinary chance, only marking every
evening the faults of the day. Thus, if in the first week I could
keep my first line, marked T, clear of spots, I suppos'd the habit
of that virtue so much strengthen'd, and its opposite weaken'd,
that I might venture-extending my attention to include the next,
and for the following week keep both lines clear of spots. Proceeding
thus to the last, I could go thro' a course compleat in
thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. And like him who,
having a garden to weed, does not attempt to eradicate all the
bad herbs at once, which would exceed his reach and his strength,
but works on one of the beds at a time, and, having accomplish'd
the first, proceeds to a second, so I should have, I hoped,
the encouraging pleasure of seeing on my pages the progress I
made in virtue, by clearing successively my lines of their spots,
till in the end, by a number of courses, I should be happy in
viewing a clean book, after a thirteen weeks' daily examination.
This my little book had for its motto these lines from Addison's
Cato:
Here will I hold. If there's a power above us
(And that there is, all nature cries aloud
Thro' all her works), He must delight in virtue;
And that which he delights in must be happy.
Another from Cicero,
O vitæ Philosophia dux! O virtutum indagatrix expultrixque
vitiorum! Unus dies, bene et ex præceptis tuis actus, peccanti
immortalitati est anteponendus.
Another from the Proverbs of Solomon, speaking of wisdom
or virtue:
Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches
and honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her
paths are peace.—iii. 16, 17.
And conceiving God to be the fountain of wisdom, I thought
it right and necessary to solicit his assistance for obtaining it;
to this end I formed the following little prayer, which was prefix'd
to my tables of examination, for daily use.
O powerful Goodness! bountiful Father! merciful Guide! Increase
in me that wisdom which discovers my truest interest.
Strengthen my resolutions to perform what that wisdom dictates.
Accept my kind offices to thy other children as the only return in
my power for thy continual favours to me.
I used also sometimes a little prayer which I took from
Thomson's Poems, viz.:
Father of light and life, thou Good Supreme!
O teach me what is good; teach me Thyself!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low pursuit; and fill my soul
With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure;
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss!
The precept of Order requiring that every part of my business
should have its allotted time, one page in my little book contain'd
the following scheme of employment for the twenty-four hours
of a natural day.
The Morning.
Question. What good shall I do this day? |
bracket left
5 6
7bracket right |
Rise, wash, and address Powerful Goodness! Contrive day's business,
and take the resolution of the day; prosecute the present study, and breakfast. |
| |
8 9
10
11
bracket left |
Work. |
| Noon. |
bracket left
12 1
bracket right |
Read, or overlook my accounts, and dine. |
| |
2 3 4 5
bracket left |
Work. |
Evening.
Question. What good have I done to-day? |
bracket left
6 7 8 9bracket right |
Put things in their places. Supper.
Music or diversion, or conversation.
Examination of the day. |
| Night. |
bracket left
10
11
12 1 2 3 4bracket right |
Sleep. |
I enter'd upon the execution of this plan for self-examination,
and continu'd it with occasional intermissions for some time.
I was surpris'd to find myself so much fuller of faults than I had
imagined; but I had the satisfaction of seeing them diminish.
To avoid the trouble of renewing now and then my little book,
which, by scraping out the marks on the paper of old faults to
make room for new ones in a new course, became full of holes,
I transferr'd my tables and precepts to the ivory leaves of a memorandum
book, on which the lines were drawn with red ink,
that made a durable stain, and on those lines I mark'd my faults
with a black-lead pencil, which marks I could easily wipe out
with a wet sponge. After a while I went thro' one course only
in a year, and afterward only one in several years, till at length
I omitted them entirely, being employ'd in voyages and business
abroad, with a multiplicity of affairs that interfered; but I always
carried my little book with me.
My scheme of Order gave me the most trouble; and I found
that, tho' it might be practicable where a man's business was
such as to leave him the disposition of his time, that of a journeyman
printer, for instance, it was not possible to be exactly observed
by a master, who must mix with the world, and often receive
people of business at their own hours. Order, too, with
regard to places for things, papers, etc., I found extreamly difficult
to acquire. I had not been early accustomed to it, and, having
an exceeding good memory, I was not so sensible of the
inconvenience attending want of method. This article, therefore,
cost me so much painful attention, and my faults in it vexed
me so much, and I made so little progress in amendment, and
had such frequent relapses, that I was almost ready to give up
the attempt, and content myself with a faulty character in that
respect, like the man who, in buying an ax of a smith, my
neighbour, desired to have the whole of its surface as bright as
the edge. The smith consented to grind it bright for him if he
would turn the wheel; he turn'd, while the smith press'd the
broad face of the ax hard and heavily on the stone, which made
the turning of it very fatiguing. The man came every now and
then from the wheel to see how the work went on, and at length
would take his ax as it was, without farther grinding. "No,"
said the smith, "turn on, turn on; we shall have it bright by-and-by;
as yet, it is only speckled." "Yes," says the man, "but I
think I like a speckled ax best." And I believe this may have been
the case with many, who, having, for want of some such means
as I employ'd, found the difficulty of obtaining good and breaking
bad habits in other points of vice and virtue, have given up
the struggle, and concluded that "a speckled ax was best"; for
something, that pretended to be reason, was every now and
then suggesting to me that such extream nicety as I exacted of
myself might be a kind of foppery in morals, which, if it were
known, would make me ridiculous; that a perfect character
might be attended with the inconvenience of being envied and
hated; and that a benevolent man should allow a few faults in
himself, to keep his friends in countenance.
In truth, I found myself incorrigible with respect to Order;
and now I am grown old, and my memory bad, I feel very sensibly
the want of it. But, on the whole, tho' I never arrived at the
perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but fell far short
of it, yet I was, by the endeavour, a better and a happier man
than I otherwise should have been if I had not attempted it; as
those who aim at perfect writing by imitating the engraved
copies, tho' they never reach the wish'd-for excellence of those
copies, their hand is mended by the endeavour, and is tolerable
while it continues fair and legible.
It may be well my posterity should be informed that to this
little artifice, with the blessing of God, their ancestor ow'd the
constant felicity of his life, down to his 79th year in which this
is written. What reverses may attend the remainder is in the
hand of Providence; but, if they arrive, the reflection on past
happiness enjoy'd ought to help his bearing them with more
resignation. To Temperance he ascribes his long-continued
health, and what is still left to him of a good constitution; to
Industry and Frugality, the early easiness of his circumstances
and acquisition of his fortune, with all that knowledge that enabled
him to be a useful citizen, and obtained for him some degree
of reputation among the learned; to Sincerity and Justice,
the confidence of his country, and the honorable employs it
conferred upon him; and to the joint influence of the whole mass
of the virtues, even in the imperfect state he was able to acquire
them, all that evenness of temper, and that cheerfulness in conversation,
which makes his company still sought for, and agreeable
even to his younger acquaintance. I hope, therefore, that
some of my descendants may follow the example and reap the
benefit.
It will be remark'd that, tho' my scheme was not wholly
without religion, there was in it no mark of any of the distinguishing
tenets of any particular sect. I had purposely
avoided them; for, being fully persuaded of the utility and excellency
of my method, and that it might be serviceable to people
in all religions, and intending some time or other to publish it,
I would not have any thing in it that should prejudice any one,
of any sect, against it. I purposed writing a little comment on
each virtue, in which I would have shown the advantages of
possessing it, and the mischiefs attending its opposite vice; and
I should have called my book The Art of Virtue,[E] because
it would have shown the means and manner of obtaining virtue,
which would have distinguished it from the mere exhortation
to be good, that does not instruct and indicate the means, but is
like the apostle's man of verbal charity, who only, without
showing to the naked and hungry how or where they might
get clothes or victuals, exhorted them to be fed and clothed.—James
ii. 15, 16.
But it so happened that my intention of writing and publishing
this comment was never fulfilled. I did, indeed, from time
to time, put down short hints of the sentiments, reasonings, etc.,
to be made use of in it, some of which I have still by me; but the
necessary close attention to private business in the earlier part of
my life, and public business since, have occasioned my postponing
it; for, it being connected in my mind with a great and extensive
project, that required the whole man to execute, and which
an unforeseen succession of employs prevented my attending
to, it has hitherto remain'd unfinish'd.
In this piece it was my design to explain and enforce this doctrine,
that vicious actions are not hurtful because they are forbidden,
but forbidden because they are hurtful, the nature of
man alone considered; that it was, therefore, every one's interest
to be virtuous who wish'd to be happy even in this world;
and I should, from this circumstance (there being always in the
world a number of rich merchants, nobility, states, and princes,
who have need of honest instruments for the management of
their affairs, and such being so rare), have endeavoured to convince
young persons that no qualities were so likely to make
a poor man's fortune as those of probity and integrity.
My list of virtues contain'd at first but twelve; but a Quaker
friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought
proud; that my pride show'd itself frequently in conversation;
that I was not content with being in the right when discussing
any point, but was overbearing, and rather insolent, of which he
convinc'd me by mentioning several instances; I determined
endeavouring to cure myself, if I could, of this vice or folly
among the rest, and I added Humility to my list, giving an extensive
meaning to the word.
I cannot boast of much success in acquiring the reality of this
virtue, but I had a good deal with regard to the appearance of it.
I made it a rule to forbear all direct contradiction to the sentiments
of others, and all positive assertion of my own. I even
forbid myself, agreeably to the old laws of our Junto, the use of
every word or expression in the language that imported a fix'd
opinion, such as certainly, undoubtedly, etc., and I adopted, instead
of them, I conceive, I apprehend, or I imagine a thing to be
so or so; or it so appears to me at present. When another asserted
something that I thought an error, I deny'd myself the
pleasure of contradicting him abruptly, and of showing immediately
some absurdity in his proposition; and in answering I began
by observing that in certain cases or circumstances his
opinion would be right, but in the present case there appear'd
or seem'd to me some difference, etc. I soon found the advantage
of this change in my manner; the conversations I engag'd
in went on more pleasantly. The modest way in which I
propos'd my opinions procur'd them a readier reception and
less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found to
be in the wrong, and I more easily prevail'd with others to give
up their mistakes and join with me when I happened to be in
the right.
And this mode, which I at first put on with some violence to
natural inclination, became at length so easy, and so habitual to
me, that perhaps for these fifty years past no one has ever heard
a dogmatical expression escape me. And to this habit (after my
character of integrity) I think it principally owing that I had
early so much weight with my fellow-citizens when I proposed
new institutions, or alterations in the old, and so much influence
in public councils when I became a member; for I was but a bad
speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my
choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally
carried my points.
In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions so
hard to subdue as pride. Disguise it, struggle with it, beat it
down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive,
and will every now and then peep out and show itself; you will
see it, perhaps, often in this history; for, even if I could conceive
that I had compleatly overcome it, I should probably be proud
of my humility.[13]...
Having mentioned a great and extensive project which I had
conceiv'd, it seems proper that some account should be here
given of that project and its object. Its first rise in my mind
appears in the following little paper, accidentally preserv'd, viz.:
Observations on my reading history, in Library, May 19th,
1731.
"That the great affairs of the world, the wars, revolutions,
etc., are carried on and affected by parties.
"That the view of these parties is their present general interest,
or what they take to be such.
"That the different views of these different parties occasion
all confusion.
"That while a party is carrying on a general design, each man
has his particular private interest in view.
"That as soon as a party has gain'd its general point, each
member becomes intent upon his particular interest; which,
thwarting others, breaks that party into divisions, and occasions
more confusion.
"That few in public affairs act from a meer view of the good
of their country, whatever they may pretend; and, tho' their
actings bring real good to their country, yet men primarily
considered that their own and their country's interest was
united, and did not act from a principle of benevolence.
"That fewer still, in public affairs, act with a view to the
good of mankind.
"There seems to me at present to be great occasion for raising
a United Party for Virtue, by forming the virtuous and good
men of all nations into a regular body, to be govern'd by suitable
good and wise rules, which good and wise men may probably
be more unanimous in their obedience to, than common
people are to common laws.
"I at present think that whoever attempts this aright, and is
well qualified, can not fail of pleasing God, and of meeting with
success.
B. F."
Revolving this project in my mind, as to be undertaken hereafter,
when my circumstances should afford me the necessary
leisure, I put down from time to time, on pieces of paper, such
thoughts as occurr'd to me respecting it. Most of these are lost;
but I find one purporting to be the substance of an intended
creed, containing, as I thought, the essentials of every known
religion, and being free of every thing that might shock the
professors of any religion. It is express'd in these words,
viz.:
"That there is one God, who made all things.
"That he governs the world by his providence.
"That he ought to be worshiped by adoration, prayer, and
thanksgiving.
"But that the most acceptable service of God is doing good
to man.
"That the soul is immortal.
"And that God will certainly reward virtue and punish vice,
either here or hereafter."
My ideas at that time were, that the sect should be begun and
spread at first among young and single men only; that each person
to be initiated should not only declare his assent to such
creed, but should have exercised himself with the thirteen
weeks' examination and practice of the virtues, as in the before-mention'd
model; that the existence of such a society should be
kept a secret, till it was become considerable, to prevent solicitations
for the admission of improper persons, but that the members
should each of them search among his acquaintance for ingenuous,
well-disposed youths, to whom, with prudent caution,
the scheme should be gradually communicated; that the members
should engage to afford their advice, assistance, and support
to each other in promoting one another's interests, business, and
advancement in life; that, for distinction, we should be call'd The
Society of the Free and Easy: free, as being, by the general practice
and habit of the virtues, free from the dominion of vice; and
particularly by the practice of industry and frugality, free from
debt, which exposes a man to confinement, and a species of slavery
to his creditors.
This is as much as I can now recollect of the project, except
that I communicated it in part to two young men, who adopted
it with some enthusiasm; but my then narrow circumstances, and
the necessity I was under of sticking close to my business, occasion'd
my postponing the further prosecution of it at that time;
and my multifarious occupations, public and private, induc'd
me to continue postponing, so that it has been omitted till I
have no longer strength or activity left sufficient for such an
enterprise; tho' I am still of opinion that it was a practicable
scheme, and might have been very useful, by forming a great
number of good citizens; and I was not discourag'd by the
seeming magnitude of the undertaking, as I have always thought
that one man of tolerable abilities may work great changes, and
accomplish great affairs among mankind, if he first forms a good
plan, and, cutting off all amusements or other employments that
would divert his attention, makes the execution of that same
plan his sole study and business.
In 1732 I first publish'd my Almanack, under the name of
Richard Saunders; it was continu'd by me about twenty-five
years, commonly call'd Poor Richard's Almanack. I endeavour'd
to make it both entertaining and useful, and it accordingly came
to be in such demand, that I reap'd considerable profit from it,
vending annually near ten thousand.[14] And observing that it
was generally read, scarce any neighborhood in the province
being without it, I consider'd it as a proper vehicle for conveying
instruction among the common people, who bought scarcely
any other books; I therefore filled all the little spaces that occurr'd
between the remarkable days in the calendar with proverbial
sentences, chiefly such as inculcated industry and frugality,
as the means of procuring wealth, and thereby securing
virtue; it being more difficult for a man in want, to act
always honestly, as, to use here one of those proverbs, it is hard
for an empty sack to stand upright.
These proverbs, which contained the wisdom of many ages
and nations, I assembled and form'd into a connected discourse
prefix'd to the Almanack of 1757, as the harangue of a wise old
man to the people attending an auction. The bringing all these
scatter'd counsels thus into a focus enabled them to make greater
impression. The piece, being universally approved, was copied
in all the newspapers of the Continent; reprinted in Britain on a
broad side, to be stuck up in houses; two translations were
made of it in French, and great numbers bought by the clergy
and gentry, to distribute gratis among their poor parishioners
and tenants. In Pennsylvania, as it discouraged useless expense
in foreign superfluities, some thought it had its share of influence
in producing that growing plenty of money which was
observable for several years after its publication.
I considered my newspaper, also, as another means of communicating
instruction, and in that view frequently reprinted in
it extracts from the Spectator, and other moral writers; and
sometimes publish'd little pieces of my own, which had been
first compos'd for reading in our Junto. Of these are a Socratic
dialogue, tending to prove that, whatever might be his parts and
abilities, a vicious man could not properly be called a man of
sense; and a discourse on self-denial, showing that virtue was
not secure till its practice became a habitude, and was free from
the opposition of contrary inclinations. These may be found in
the papers about the beginning of 1735.[15]
In the conduct of my newspaper, I carefully excluded all
libelling and personal abuse, which is of late years become so
disgraceful to our country. Whenever I was solicited to insert
any thing of that kind, and the writers pleaded, as they generally
did, the liberty of the press, and that a newspaper was like a
stage-coach, in which any one who would pay had a right to a
place, my answer was, that I would print the piece separately if
desired, and the author might have as many copies as he pleased
to distribute himself, but that I would not take upon me to
spread his detraction; and that, having contracted with my subscribers
to furnish them with what might be either useful or
entertaining, I could not fill their papers with private altercation,
in which they had no concern, without doing them manifest
injustice. Now, many of our printers make no scruple of gratifying
the malice of individuals by false accusations of the fairest
characters among ourselves, augmenting animosity even to the
producing of duels; and are, moreover, so indiscreet as to print
scurrilous reflections on the government of neighboring states,
and even on the conduct of our best national allies, which may
be attended with the most pernicious consequences. These
things I mention as a caution to young printers, and that they
may be encouraged not to pollute their presses and disgrace
their profession by such infamous practices, but refuse steadily,
as they may see by my example that such a course of conduct
will not, on the whole, be injurious to their interests.
I had begun in 1733 to study languages; I soon made myself
so much a master of the French as to be able to read the books
with ease. I then undertook the Italian. An acquaintance, who
was also learning it, us'd often to tempt me to play chess with
him. Finding this took up too much of the time I had to spare
for study, I at length refus'd to play any more, unless on this
condition, that the victor in every game should have a right to
impose a task, either in parts of the grammar to be got by heart,
or in translations, etc., which tasks the vanquish'd was to perform
upon honour, before our next meeting. As we play'd
pretty equally, we thus beat one another into that language. I
afterwards with a little painstaking, acquir'd as much of the
Spanish as to read their books also.
I have already mention'd that I had only one year's instruction
in a Latin school, and that when very young, after which I
neglected that language entirely. But, when I had attained an
acquaintance with the French, Italian, and Spanish, I was surpriz'd
to find, on looking over a Latin Testament, that I understood
so much more of that language than I had imagined,
which encouraged me to apply myself again to the study of it,
and I met with more success, as those preceding languages had
greatly smooth'd my way.
From these circumstances, I have thought that there is some
inconsistency in our common mode of teaching languages. We
are told that it is proper to begin first with the Latin, and, having
acquir'd that, it will be more easy to attain those modern languages
which are deriv'd from it; and yet we do not begin with
the Greek, in order more easily to acquire the Latin. It is true
that, if you can clamber and get to the top of a staircase without
using the steps, you will more easily gain them in descending;
but certainly, if you begin with the lowest you will with
more ease ascend to the top; and I would therefore offer it to
the consideration of those who superintend the education of our
youth, whether, since many of those who begin with the Latin
quit the same after spending some years without having made
any great proficiency, and what they have learnt becomes almost
useless, so that their time has been lost, it would not have been
better to have begun with the French, proceeding to the Italian,
etc.; for, tho', after spending the same time, they should quit
the study of languages and never arrive at the Latin, they
would, however, have acquired another tongue or two, that,
being in modern use, might be serviceable to them in common
life.
Our club, the Junto, was found so useful, and afforded such
satisfaction to the members, that several were desirous of introducing
their friends, which could not well be done without exceeding
what we had settled as a convenient number, viz.,
twelve. We had from the beginning made it a rule to keep our
institution a secret, which was pretty well observ'd; the intention
was to avoid applications of improper persons for admittance,
some of whom, perhaps, we might find it difficult to refuse.
I was one of those who were against any addition to our
number, but, instead of it, made in writing a proposal, that every
member separately should endeavour to form a subordinate
club, with the same rules respecting queries, etc., and without
informing them of the connection with the Junto. The advantages
proposed were, the improvement of so many more young
citizens by the use of our institutions; our better acquaintance
with the general sentiments of the inhabitants on any occasion,
as the Junto member might propose what queries we should
desire, and was to report to the Junto what pass'd in his separate
club; the promotion of our particular interests in business by
more extensive recommendation, and the increase of our influence
in public affairs, and our power of doing good by spreading
thro' the several clubs the sentiments of the Junto.
The project was approv'd, and every member undertook to
form his club, but they did not all succeed. Five or six only
were compleated, which were called by different names, as the
Vine, the Union, the Band, etc. They were useful to themselves,
and afforded us a good deal of amusement, information, and
instruction, besides answering, in some considerable degree, our
views of influencing the public opinion on particular occasions,
of which I shall give some instances in course of time as they
happened.
I began now to turn my thoughts a little to public affairs,[16]
beginning, however, with small matters. The city watch was
one of the first things that I conceiv'd to want regulation. It
was managed by the constables of the respective wards in turn;
the constable warned a number of housekeepers to attend him
for the night. Those who chose never to attend, paid him six
shillings a year to be excus'd, which was suppos'd to be for hiring
substitutes, but was, in reality, much more than was necessary
for that purpose, and made the constableship a place of
profit; and the constable, for a little drink, often got such ragamuffins
about him as a watch, that respectable housekeepers did
not choose to mix with. Walking the rounds, too, was often
neglected, and most of the nights spent in tippling. I thereupon
wrote a paper to be read in Junto, representing these irregularities,
but insisting more particularly on the inequality of this six-shilling
tax of the constables, respecting the circumstances of
those who paid it, since a poor widow housekeeper, all whose
property to be guarded by the watch did not perhaps exceed the
value of fifty pounds, paid as much as the wealthiest merchant,
who had thousands of pounds' worth of goods in his stores.
On the whole, I proposed as a more effectual watch, the hiring
of proper men to serve constantly in that business; and as a more
equitable way of supporting the charge, the levying a tax that
should be proportion'd to the property. This idea, being approv'd
by the Junto, was communicated to the other clubs, but
as arising in each of them; and though the plan was not immediately
carried into execution, yet, by preparing the minds of people
for the change, it paved the way for the law obtained a few
years after, when the members of our clubs were grown into
more influence.
About this time I wrote a paper (first to be read in Junto, but
it was afterward publish'd) on the different accidents and carelessnesses
by which houses were set on fire, with cautions
against them, and means proposed of avoiding them. This was
much spoken of as a useful piece, and gave rise to a project,
which soon followed it, of forming a company for the more
ready extinguishing of fires, and mutual assistance in removing
and securing of goods when in danger. Associates in this scheme
were presently found, amounting to thirty. Our articles of
agreement oblig'd every member to keep always in good order,
and fit for use, a certain number of leather buckets, with strong
bags and baskets (for packing and transporting of goods),
which were to be brought to every fire; and we agreed to meet
once a month and spend a social evening together, in discoursing
and communicating such ideas as occurred to us upon the
subject of fires, as might be useful in our conduct on such occasions.
The utility of this institution soon appeared, and many more
desiring to be admitted than we thought convenient for one
company, they were advised to form another, which was accordingly
done; and this went on, one new company being formed
after another, till they became so numerous as to include most
of the inhabitants who were men of property; and now, at the
time of my writing this, tho' upward of fifty years since its
establishment, that which I first formed, called the Union Fire
Company, still subsists and flourishes, tho' the first members
are all deceas'd but myself and one, who is older by a year than
I am. The small fines that have been paid by members for absence
at the monthly meetings have been apply'd to the purchase
of fire-engines, ladders, fire-hooks, and other useful implements
for each company, so that I question whether there is a
city in the world better provided with the means of putting a
stop to beginning conflagrations; and, in fact, since these institutions,
the city has never lost by fire more than one or two houses
at a time, and the flames have often been extinguished before the
house in which they began has been half consumed.
In 1739 arrived among us from Ireland the Reverend Mr.
Whitefield, who had made himself remarkable there as an itinerant
preacher. He was at first permitted to preach in some of
our churches; but the clergy, taking a dislike to him, soon refus'd
him their pulpits, and he was oblig'd to preach in the fields.
The multitudes of all sects and denominations that attended his
sermons were enormous, and it was matter of speculation to me,
who was one of the number, to observe the extraordinary influence
of his oratory on his hearers, and how much they admir'd
and respected him, notwithstanding his common abuse of them,
by assuring them they were naturally half beasts and half devils.
It was wonderful to see the change soon made in the manners of
our inhabitants. From being thoughtless or indifferent about
religion, it seem'd as if all the world were growing religious,
so that one could not walk thro' the town in an evening without
hearing psalms sung in different families of every street.
I happened soon after to attend one of his sermons, in the
course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collection,
and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I
had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver
dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded I began
to soften, and concluded to give the coppers. Another stroke of
his oratory made me asham'd of that, and determin'd me to give
the silver; and he finish'd so admirably, that I empty'd my pocket
wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. At this sermon
there was also one of our club, who, being of my sentiments respecting
the building in Georgia and, suspecting a collection
might be intended, had, by precaution, emptied his pockets before
he came from home. Towards the conclusion of the discourse,
however, he felt a strong desire to give, and apply'd to a
neighbour, who stood near him, to borrow some money for the
purpose. The application was unfortunately [made] to perhaps
the only man in the company who had the firmness not to be
affected by the preacher. His answer was, "At any other time,
Friend Hopkinson, I would lend to thee freely; but not now, for
thee seems to be out of thy right senses."
He [Rev. Whitefield] us'd, indeed, sometimes to pray for my
conversion, but never had the satisfaction of believing that his
prayers were heard. Ours was a mere civil friendship, sincere
on both sides, and lasted to his death.[17]
The following instance will show something of the terms on
which we stood. Upon one of his arrivals from England at
Boston, he wrote to me that he should come soon to Philadelphia,
but knew not where he could lodge when there, as he understood
his old friend and host, Mr. Benezet was removed to Germantown.
My answer was, "You know my house, if you can make
shift with its scanty accommodations, you will be most heartily
welcome." He reply'd, that if I made that kind offer for Christ's
sake, I should not miss of a reward. And I returned, "Don't let
me be mistaken, it was not for Christ's sake, but for your sake."
One of our common acquaintance jocosely remark'd, that,
knowing it to be the custom of the saints, when they received any
favour, to shift the burden of the obligation from off their own
shoulders, and place it in heaven, I had contriv'd to fix it on
earth.
The last time I saw Mr. Whitefield was in London, when he
consulted me about his Orphan House concern, and his purpose
of appropriating it to the establishment of a college.
He had a loud and clear voice, and articulated his words and
sentences so perfectly, that he might be heard and understood at
a great distance, especially as his auditories, however numerous,
observ'd the most exact silence. He preach'd one evening from
the top of the Court-house steps, which are in the middle of
Market-street, and on the west side of Second-street, which
crosses it at right angles. Both streets were fill'd with his hearers
to a considerable distance. Being among the hindmost in
Market-street, I had the curiosity to learn how far he could be
heard, by retiring backwards down the street towards the
river; and I found his voice distinct till I came near Front-street,
when some noise in that street obscur'd it. Imagining then a
semicircle, of which my distance should be the radius, and that
it were fill'd with auditors, to each of whom I allow'd two square
feet, I computed that he might well be heard by more than thirty
thousand. This reconcil'd me to the newspaper accounts of his
having preach'd to twenty-five thousand people in the fields,
and to the antient histories of generals haranguing whole armies,
of which I had some times doubted.
I had, on the whole, abundant reason to be satisfied with my
being established in Pennsylvania. There were, however, two
things that I regretted, there being no provision for defense,
nor for a compleat education of youth; no militia, nor any college.
I therefore, in 1743, drew up a proposal for establishing
an academy; and at that time, thinking the Reverend Mr. Peters,
who was out of employ, a fit person to superintend such an institution,
I communicated the project to him; but he, having
more profitable views in the service of the proprietaries, which
succeeded, declin'd the undertaking; and, not knowing another
at that time suitable for such a trust, I let the scheme lie a while
dormant. I succeeded better the next year, 1744, in proposing
and establishing a Philosophical Society. The paper I wrote for
that purpose will be found among my writings, when collected.
Peace being concluded, and the association business therefore
at an end, I turn'd my thoughts again to the affair of establishing
an academy. The first step I took was to associate in the design
a number of active friends, of whom the Junto furnished a
good part; the next was to write and publish a pamphlet, entitled
Proposals Relating to the Education of Youth in Pennsylvania.
This I distributed among the principal inhabitants gratis,
and as soon as I could suppose their minds a little prepared by
the perusal of it, I set on foot a subscription for opening and
supporting an academy; it was to be paid in quotas yearly for
five years; by so dividing it, I judg'd the subscription might be
larger, and I believe it was so, amounting to no less, if I remember
right, than five thousand pounds.
In the introduction to these proposals, I stated their publication,
not as an act of mine, but of some publick-spirited gentlemen,
avoiding as much as I could, according to my usual rule,
the presenting myself to the publick as the author of any scheme
for their benefit.
The subscribers, to carry the project into immediate execution,
chose out of their number twenty-four trustees, and appointed
Mr. Francis, then attorney-general, and myself to draw
up constitutions for the government of the academy; which
being done and signed, a house was hired, masters engag'd, and
the schools opened, I think, in the same year, 1749.
In 1746, being at Boston, I met there with a Dr. Spence, who
was lately arrived from Scotland, and show'd me some electric
experiments. They were imperfectly perform'd, as he was not
very expert; but, being on a subject quite new to me, they equally
surpris'd and pleased me. Soon after my return to Philadelphia,
our library company receiv'd from Mr. P. Collinson, Fellow of
the Royal Society of London, a present of a glass tube, with
some account of the use of it in making such experiments. I
eagerly seized the opportunity of repeating what I had seen at
Boston; and, by much practice, acquir'd great readiness in performing
those, also, which we had an account of from England,
adding a number of new ones. I say much practice, for my
house was continually full, for some time, with people who
came to see these new wonders.
To divide a little this incumbrance among my friends, I
caused a number of similar tubes to be blown at our glass-house,
with which they furnish'd themselves, so that we had at length
several performers. Among these, the principal was Mr. Kinnersley,
an ingenious neighbor, who, being out of business, I
encouraged to undertake showing the experiments for money,
and drew up for him two lectures, in which the experiments
were rang'd in such order, and accompanied with such explanations
in such method, as that the foregoing should assist in
comprehending the following. He procur'd an elegant apparatus
for the purpose, in which all the little machines that I had
roughly made for myself were nicely form'd by instrument-makers.
His lectures were well attended, and gave great satisfaction;
and after some time he went thro' the colonies, exhibiting
them in every capital town, and pick'd up some money. In the
West India Islands, indeed, it was with difficulty the experiments
could be made, from the general moisture of the air.
Oblig'd as we were to Mr. Collinson for his present of the
tube, etc., I thought it right he should be inform'd of our success
in using it, and wrote him several letters containing accounts
of our experiments. He got them read in the Royal Society,
where they were not at first thought worth so much notice
as to be printed in their Transactions. One paper, which I
wrote for Mr. Kinnersley, on the sameness of lightning with
electricity, I sent to Dr. Mitchel, an acquaintance of mine, and
one of the members also of that society, who wrote me word
that it had been read, but was laughed at by the connoisseurs.
The papers, however, being shown to Dr. Fothergill, he thought
them of too much value to be stifled, and advis'd the printing
of them. Mr. Collinson then gave them to Cave for publication
in his Gentleman's Magazine; but he chose to print them
separately in a pamphlet, and Dr. Fothergill wrote the preface.
Cave, it seems, judged rightly for his profit, for by the additions
that arrived afterward they swell'd, to a quarto volume, which
has had five editions, and cost him nothing for copy-money.
It was, however, some time before those papers were much
taken notice of in England. A copy of them happening to fall
into the hands of the Count de Buffon, a philosopher deservedly
of great reputation in France, and, indeed, all over Europe, he
prevailed with M. Dalibard to translate them into French, and
they were printed at Paris. The publication offended the Abbé
Nollet, preceptor in Natural Philosophy to the royal family, and
an able experimenter, who had form'd and publish'd a theory of
electricity, which then had the general vogue. He could not at
first believe that such a work came from America, and said it
must have been fabricated by his enemies at Paris, to decry his
system. Afterwards, having been assur'd that there really existed
such a person as Franklin at Philadelphia, which he had
doubted, he wrote and published a volume of Letters, chiefly
address'd to me, defending his theory, and denying the verity
of my experiments, and of the positions deduc'd from them.
I once purpos'd answering the abbé, and actually began the
answer; but, on consideration that my writings contain'd a description
of experiments which any one might repeat and verify,
and if not to be verifi'd, could not be defended; or of observations
offer'd as conjectures, and not delivered dogmatically,
therefore not laying me under any obligation to defend them;
and reflecting that a dispute between two persons, writing in
different languages, might be lengthened greatly by mistranslations,
and thence misconceptions of one another's meaning,
much of one of the abbé's letters being founded on an error in
the translation, I concluded to let my papers shift for themselves,
believing it was better to spend what time I could spare
from public business in making new experiments, than in disputing
about those already made. I therefore never answered
M. Nollet, and the event gave me no cause to repent my silence;
for my friend M. le Roy, of the Royal Academy of Sciences,
took up my cause and refuted him; my book was translated into
the Italian, German, and Latin languages; and the doctrine it
contain'd was by degrees universally adopted by the philosophers
of Europe, in preference to that of the abbé; so that he
lived to see himself the last of his sect, except Monsieur B——,
of Paris, his élève and immediate disciple.
What gave my book the more sudden and general celebrity,
was the success of one of its proposed experiments, made by
Messrs. Dalibard and De Lor at Marly, for drawing lightning
from the clouds. This engag'd the public attention every where.
M. de Lor, who had an apparatus for experimental philosophy,
and lectur'd in that branch of science, undertook to repeat what
he called the Philadelphia Experiments; and, after they were performed
before the king and court, all the curious of Paris
flocked to see them. I will not swell this narrative with an account
of that capital experiment, nor of the infinite pleasure I
receiv'd in the success of a similar one I made soon after with a
kite at Philadelphia, as both are to be found in the histories of
electricity.
Dr. Wright, an English physician, when at Paris, wrote to a
friend, who was of the Royal Society, an account of the high
esteem my experiments were in among the learned abroad, and
of their wonder that my writings had been so little noticed in
England. The Society, on this, resum'd the consideration of
the letters that had been read to them; and the celebrated Dr.
Watson drew up a summary account of them, and of all I had
afterwards sent to England on the subject, which he accompanied
with some praise of the writer. This summary was then
printed in their Transactions; and some members of the Society
in London, particularly the very ingenious Mr. Canton, having
verified the experiment of procuring lightning from the clouds
by a pointed rod, and acquainting them with the success, they
soon made me more than amends for the slight with which they
had before treated me. Without my having made any application
for that honour, they chose me a member, and voted that I
should be excus'd the customary payments, which would have
amounted to twenty-five guineas; and ever since have given me
their Transactions gratis. They also presented me with the gold
medal of Sir Godfrey Copley for the year 1753, the delivery of
which was accompanied by a very handsome speech of the president,
Lord Macclesfield, wherein I was highly honoured.
DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. I
(From Monday March 26. to Monday April 2. 1722.)
To the Author of the New-England Courant.
Sir,
It may not be improper in the first Place to inform your
Readers, that I intend once a Fortnight to present them, by the
Help of this Paper, with a short Epistle, which I presume will
add somewhat to their Entertainment.
And since it is observed, that the Generality of People, now a
days, are unwilling either to commend or dispraise what they
read, until they are in some measure informed who or what the
Author of it is, whether he be poor or rich, old or young, a Scollar
or a Leather Apron Man, &c. and give their Opinion of the
Performance, according to the Knowledge which they have of
the Author's Circumstances, it may not be amiss to begin with
a short Account of my past Life and present Condition, that the
Reader may not be at a Loss to judge whether or no my Lucubrations
are worth his reading.
At the time of my Birth, my Parents were on Ship-board in
their Way from London to N. England. My Entrance into this
troublesome World was attended with the Death of my Father,
a Misfortune, which tho' I was not then capable of knowing, I
shall never be able to forget; for as he, poor Man, stood upon
the Deck rejoycing at my Birth, a merciless Wave entred the
Ship, and in one Moment carry'd him beyond Reprieve. Thus
was the first Day which I saw, the last that was seen by my
Father; and thus was my disconsolate Mother at once made both
a Parent and a Widow.
When we arrived at Boston (which was not long after) I was
put to Nurse in a Country Place, at a small Distance from the
Town, where I went to School, and past my Infancy and Childhood
in Vanity and Idleness, until I was bound out Apprentice,
that I might no longer be a Charge to my Indigent Mother, who
was put to hard Shifts for a Living.
My Master was a Country Minister, a pious good-natur'd
young Man, & a Batchelor: He labour'd with all his Might to
instil vertuous and godly Principles into my tender Soul, well
knowing that it was the most suitable Time to make deep and
lasting Impressions on the Mind, while it was yet untainted with
Vice, free and unbiass'd. He endeavour'd that I might be instructed
in all that Knowledge and Learning which is necessary
for our Sex, and deny'd me no Accomplishment that could
possibly be attained in a Country Place, such as all Sorts of
Needle-Work, Writing, Arithmetick, &c. and observing that I
took a more than ordinary Delight in reading ingenious Books,
he gave me the free Use of his Library, which tho' it was but
small, yet it was well chose, to inform the Understanding rightly
and enable the Mind to frame great and noble Ideas.
Before I had liv'd quite two Years with this Reverend Gentleman,
my indulgent Mother departed this Life, leaving me as it
were by my self, having no Relation on Earth within my
Knowledge.
I will not abuse your Patience with a tedious Recital of all the
frivolous Accidents of my Life, that happened from this Time
until I arrived to Years of Discretion, only inform you that I
liv'd a chearful Country Life, spending my leisure Time either
in some innocent Diversion with the neighbouring Females, or
in some shady Retirement, with the best of Company, Books.
Thus I past away the Time with a Mixture of Profit and Pleasure,
having no Affliction but what was imaginary and created in
my own Fancy; as nothing is more common with us Women,
than to be grieving for nothing, when we have nothing else to
grieve for.
As I would not engross too much of your Paper at once, I will
defer the Remainder of my Story until my next Letter; in the
mean time desiring your Readers to exercise their Patience, and
bear with my Humours now and then, because I shall trouble
them but seldom. I am not insensible of the Impossibility of
pleasing all, but I would not willingly displease any; and for
those who will take Offence where none is intended, they are
beneath the Notice of
Your Humble Servant,
Silinc Dogood.
As the Favour of Mrs. Dogood's Correspondence is acknowledged
by the Publisher of this Paper, lest any of her Letters should
miscarry, he desires they may for the future be deliver'd at his
Printing-House, or at the Blue Ball in Union-Street, and no
Questions shall be ask'd of the Bearer.
DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. IV
(From Monday May 7. to Monday May 14. 1722.)
An sum etiam nunc vel Græcè loqui vel Latinè docendus?
Cicero.
To the Author of the New-England Courant.
Sir,
Discoursing the other Day at Dinner with my Reverend
Boarder, formerly mention'd, (whom for Distinction sake we
will call by the Name of Clericus,) concerning the Education of
Children, I ask'd his Advice about my young Son William,
whether or no I had best bestow upon him Academical Learning,
or (as our Phrase is) bring him up at our College: He perswaded
me to do it by all Means, using many weighty Arguments with
me, and answering all the Objections that I could form against
it; telling me withal, that he did not doubt but that the Lad
would take his Learning very well, and not idle away his Time
as too many there now-a-days do. These words of Clericus gave
me a Curiosity to inquire a little more strictly into the present
Circumstances of that famous Seminary of Learning; but the
Information which he gave me, was neither pleasant, nor such
as I expected.
As soon as Dinner was over, I took a solitary Walk into my
Orchard, still ruminating on Clericus's Discourse with much
Consideration, until I came to my usual Place of Retirement
under the Great Apple-Tree; where having seated my self, and
carelessly laid my Head on a verdant Bank, I fell by Degrees into
a soft and undisturbed Slumber. My waking Thoughts remained
with me in my Sleep, and before I awak'd again, I
dreamt the following Dream.
I fancy'd I was travelling over pleasant and delightful Fields
and Meadows, and thro' many small Country Towns and
Villages; and as I pass'd along, all Places resounded with the
Fame of the Temple of Learning: Every Peasant, who had
wherewithal, was preparing to send one of his Children at least
to this famous Place; and in this Case most of them consulted
their own Purses instead of their Childrens Capacities: So that
I observed, a great many, yea, the most part of those who were
travelling thither, were little better than Dunces and Blockheads.
Alas! Alas!
At length I entred upon a spacious Plain, in the Midst of
which was erected a large and stately Edifice: It was to this that
a great Company of Youths from all Parts of the Country were
going; so stepping in among the Crowd, I passed on with them,
and presently arrived at the Gate.
The Passage was Kept by two sturdy Porters named Riches
and Poverty, and the latter obstinately refused to give Entrance
to any who had not first gain'd the Favour of the former; so that
I observed, many who came even to the very Gate, were obliged
to travel back again as ignorant as they came, for want of this
necessary Qualification. However, as a Spectator I gain'd Admittance,
and with the rest entred directly into the Temple.
In the Middle of the great Hall stood a stately and magnificent
Throne, which was ascended to by two high and difficult Steps.
On the Top of it sat Learning in awful State; she was
apparelled wholly in Black, and surrounded almost on every
Side with innumerable Volumes in all Languages. She seem'd
very busily employ'd in writing something on half a Sheet of
Paper, and upon Enquiry, I understood she was preparing a
Paper, call'd, The New-England Courant. On her Right Hand
sat English, with a pleasant smiling Countenance, and handsomely
attir'd; and on her left were seated several Antique Figures
with their Faces vail'd. I was considerably puzzl'd to guess
who they were, until one informed me, (who stood beside me,)
that those Figures on her left Hand were Latin, Greek, Hebrew,
&c. and that they were very much reserv'd, and seldom or never
unvail'd their Faces here, and then to few or none, tho' most of
those who have in this Place acquir'd so much Learning as to
distinguish them from English, pretended to an intimate Acquaintance
with them. I then enquir'd of him, what could be
the Reason why they continued vail'd, in this Place especially:
He pointed to the Foot of the Throne, where I saw Idleness,
attended with Ignorance, and these (he informed me) were they,
who first vail'd them, and still kept them so.
Now I observed, that the whole Tribe who entred into the
Temple with me, began to climb the Throne; but the Work;
proving troublesome and difficult to most of them, they withdrew
their Hands from the Plow, and contented themselves to
sit at the Foot, with Madam Idleness and her Maid Ignorance,
until those who were assisted by Diligence and a docible Temper,
had well nigh got up the first Step: But the Time drawing
nigh in which they could no way avoid ascending, they were
fain to crave the Assistance of those who had got up before
them, and who, for the Reward perhaps of a Pint of Milk, or a
Piece of Plumb-Cake, lent the Lubbers a helping Hand, and sat
them in the Eye of the World, upon a Level with themselves.
The other Step being in the same Manner ascended, and the
usual Ceremonies at an End, every Beetle-Scull seem'd well
satisfy'd with his own Portion of Learning, tho' perhaps he was
e'en just as ignorant as ever. And now the Time of their Departure
being come, they march'd out of Doors to make Room
for another Company, who waited for Entrance: And I, having
seen all that was to be seen, quitted the Hall likewise, and went
to make my Observations on those who were just gone out
before me.
Some I perceiv'd took to Merchandizing, others to Travelling,
some to one Thing, some to another, and some to Nothing;
and many of them from henceforth, for want of Patrimony,
liv'd as poor as church Mice, being unable to dig, and asham'd to
beg, and to live by their Wits it was impossible. But the most
Part of the Crowd went along a large beaten Path, which led to
a Temple at the further End of the Plain, call'd, The Temple of
Theology. The Business of those who were employ'd in this
Temple being laborious and painful, I wonder'd exceedingly to
see so many go towards it; but while I was pondering this Matter
in my Mind, I spy'd Pecunia behind a Curtain, beckoning to
them with her Hand, which Sight immediately satisfy'd me for
whose Sake it was, that a great Part of them (I will not say all)
travel'd that Road. In this Temple I saw nothing worth mentioning,
except the ambitious and fraudulent Contrivances of
Plagius, who (notwithstanding he had been severely reprehended
for such Practices before) was diligently transcribing
some eloquent Paragraphs out of Tillotson's Works, &c. to
embellish his own.
Now I bethought my self in my Sleep, that it was Time to be
at Home, and as I fancy'd I was travelling back thither, I reflected
in my Mind on the extream Folly of those Parents, who,
blind to their Childrens Dulness, and insensible of the Solidity
of their Skulls, because they think their Purses can afford it, will
needs send them to the Temple of Learning, where, for want
of a suitable Genius, they learn little more than how to carry
themselves handsomely, and enter a Room genteely, (which
might as well be acquir'd at a Dancing-School,) and from
whence they return, after Abundance of Trouble and Charge,
as great Blockheads as ever, only more proud and self-conceited.
While I was in the midst of these unpleasant Reflections,
Clericus (who with a Book in his Hand was walking under the
Trees) accidentally awak'd me; to him I related my Dream with
all its Particulars, and he, without much Study, presently interpreted
it, assuring me, That it was a lively Representation of
Harvard College, Etcetera.
I remain, Sir,
Your Humble Servant,
Silence Dogood.
DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. V
(From Monday May 21. to Monday May 28. 1722.)
Mulier Muliere magis congruet.—Ter.
To the Author of the New-England Courant.
Sir,
I shall here present your Readers with a Letter from one, who
informs me that I have begun at the wrong End of my Business,
and that I ought to begin at Home, and censure the Vices and
Follies of my own Sex, before I venture to meddle with your's:
Nevertheless, I am resolved to dedicate this Speculation to the
Fair Tribe, and endeavour to show, that Mr. Ephraim charges
Women with being particularly guilty of Pride, Idleness, &c.
wrongfully, inasmuch as the Men have not only as great a Share
in those Vices as the Women, but are likewise in a great Measure
the Cause of that which the Women are guilty of. I think it will
be best to produce my Antagonist, before I encounter him.